12-3-17 “I Believe in the Sun” - The “I Believe, Even When…” Series

12-3-17  “I Believe in the Sun” - The “I Believe, Even When…” Series

   PBS is broadcasting a new documentary film from Ron Howard about the Beatles, called “Eight Days a Week: The Touring Years.” We saw it a couple of weeks ago, and I have to say, as a lifelong Beatles fan, it’s one of the best if not THE best Beatles documentary I’ve ever seen. If you haven’t caught it yet on PBS look for it - if you’re a fan at all you’ll enjoy it. 

   Among the the more poignant images in the film is to see how Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr have aged while John Lennon and George Harrison, both of whom died fairly early, remain eternally young. I remember reading in a Beatles fan magazine as a teenager a piece titled “When I’m 64” which offered artists’ renderings of how the Fab Four might look at that age. 

We’ll never know with John and George, but for Ringo and Paul, as I recall, it was pretty spot on. 

Especially for Paul.

   When you see Paul he’s clearly aged, but aged well, 

I think. He has developed jowls that were only hinted at earlier, he has crows feet around his eyes, and his hair 

is thinning and graying - but whose isn’t. 

But the so-called “cute Beatle” is 75 years old now. 

He can’t always hit the high notes in his songs anymore, but you know what he can do? He can still sell out stadium concerts in mere minutes.

   I got to thinking about Paul McCartney and the Beatles after seeing that documentary, but also as I was studying today’s scripture. That was a long reading today - the entire first chapter of the gospel of Luke- and there’s a lot in there to consider. Thanks to our readers for making it come alive for us. But think about the key things that happen in Luke 1:

• There are two angel visitations in the first chapter. 
• Two very different responses to those visitations. 
• There’s the subject of barrenness -  introduced in our last series with Sarah that is revisited with Elizabeth this time. 
• There’s Zacharias’ loss of his voice in the midst of performing the service in the Temple that he has trained for, waited for, his entire professional life - which could suggest a message on being heard, or who in our society isn’t being heard or has had their voice taken? There’s some really good stuff here. 

   Then there’s the whole shame issue at play with both Elizabeth and Mary - the one because she is old and has never been able to conceive a child - a sign that she has lost favor with or has even been cursed by God - and the other shamed because she is a teen age girl, unmarried but engaged, who is pregnant but Joseph ain’t the daddy! But it’s Mary's response, framed by Luke in the gospel as a song, that I want us to consider today. And what does she say? Let it be. Let it be with me according to your word. Let it be. 

McCartney put it this way:

When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom,

"Let it be."

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom,

"Let it be."

   So, amidst the cornucopia of potential messages in 

this passage, I want us to think about Mary today. Mary is venerated, that is, not worshiped but given a reverential respect by many Christians, especially by our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters. Conversely, many Protestants and Evangelicals act as if she doesn’t exist - you NEVER hear about her. But the truth is, Mary is the first disciple, displaying radical faith and trust in God. 

   Marcia McFee invites us to think about it this way. Perhaps you’ve heard the phrase “‘dark night of the soul,’ “a phrase often used to describe moments in our lives when light, understanding, and hope seems to elude us.” 

Well McFee points out that Mary, maybe fourteen years old at most, is “a young woman barely out of childhood [who] receives the message that she would bear a son out of wedlock - something that could have doomed her circumstances for her entire life.”  And we should remember, that angel didn’t come to her to ask her if this would be okay, the angel came to pronounce, fancy word for “tell” her that this was going to happen - the same thing the angel did with Zacharias. This wasn’t a consult, there was no negotiation. The only “negotiable” here, if you will, was how Mary would respond. And we see that she didn’t have a lot of time to think about it either. She didn’t get sleep on it, it was just there. Which makes her response all the more incredible, and genuine. The way she responds to this call of God on her life reflects who she was, and how she was. 

   And McFee suggests that it pushes this question onto us: 

“When things that seem irreparable happen in our lives, how can we turn perceived doom into a belief in an opportunity for rebirth?” More than “making lemonade out of life’s lemons,” or looking at the glass as “half full,” we’re talking about a kind of death and resurrection here. How do we allow God to transform the difficult, even unthinkable things that happen to us in that dark night, the consequences of our actions or decisions, or just life in general, into something that goes beyond us, something bigger than us, something that brings new life and new hope out of some kind of death or despair? 

How do we find the faith to go forward in the midst of life-altering circumstances?

   Unlike Zacharias, who, make no mistake, is a good 

and faithful man, Mary doesn’t express doubt. She never suggests that she doesn’t believe the angel in this annunciation like Zacharias does. She only asks the question, “how can this be?” And as Ken Carter puts it,  “The call of God is to an ordinary woman, and yet the call is to do something extraordinary. God chose an ordinary human being—Mary—to be the vessel through which the Son of God would be born.” And when the angel tells her, reminds her, assures her that nothing is impossible for God, her response is the purest, most honest profession of faith that, perhaps, has ever been spoken, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be with me just as you have said.”

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom,

“Let it be.”

   As a result of this trust in God, Mary became a very special person in the life of the church. But in the moment, in the time leading up to this annunciation, Mary was just a normal person, going about her everyday life, doing the things that normal people did in that day. So in this busy time of the year, when we and others like us scurry about to get done the normal things that life brings to us at this time of year, it’s important to gain some clarity about what this message means for us. God calls, God uses normal everyday people, to accomplish God’s desires in the world, people like you and me. This is how God has always worked.

   In Paul’s first letter to the church at Corinth he talks about this, saying, 

“Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But . . . God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are” (1 Corinthians 1:26-28).

   Or consider the series we just completed, about how God provides a way out of no way. God calls Abraham and Sarah, an elderly childless couple, to be the parents of a nation. Nobody saw that coming! 

Or Moses, who when called by God responded more like Zacharias than Mary, suggesting he was not a good public speaker and that his brother would be better candidate. And we find this throughout scripture, not just in our passage today. God calls ordinary, everyday people - Mary, you, me  - and makes extraordinary things happen when we respond in faith.

   Mary’s response is exactly that, a response of faith in the midst of almost tragic uncertainty. She understands, “I am an ordinary person. I am not perfect.” 

As Ken Carter says, 

“The good news of the gospel is that when God begins 

to search for us, God is not seeking perfection. 

God chooses the ordinary. God loves the unlovable. 

In fact, God reverses just about every expectation we might have of how the Lord would enter into this world and save it. 

Does God flatter the proud? No, God scatters the proud. 

Does God seek an invitation from the throne? No, God brings those from thrones down, and lifts up the lowly. Does God hang out at the finest restaurants? No, God throws a banquet for the poor. Does God choose a queen or a princess to be the mother of Jesus? No, God chooses [an unwed teenager,] Mary. Does God choose the wise, the noble, and the powerful in this world to accomplish the divine will? No, God chooses [murderers, adulterers, fishermen, tax collectors] you, and me. Does God love those who are lovable? Yes, and God loves the unlovable; God forgives the imperfect; God reaches out to the lost. Christmas is really all about this attribute of God, who loves us, who reaches out, down to us, who stoops to our weakness.” Who becomes one of us.

“And when the brokenhearted people

Living in the world agree

There will be an answer,

Let it be.

And though they may be parted

There is still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer,

Let it be.”

   In the first chapter of his gospel, Luke retells the ongoing unfolding of God’s salvation history with the world, but he does it with both “drama and simplicity,” as Travis Franklin referred to it. “In a nutshell,” he offers, “God acts in life. Humans are encouraged to listen, question, seek understanding, and dialogue, but ultimately respond with trust and faith to what it is God is seeking to do.”

   And so in Advent, as we make our annual journey to the manger this story invites us to respond to God’s call once again. God comes to us, maybe not with the flash and flurry of the angel Gabriel, but in other ways that, if we are open and present to them, we will recognize. How does God come to us? Maybe it’s in a message like this, or in a song, or at Christ’s table. Perhaps God’s angel is the homeless person we meet on the street, or while serving at the free store, or in the food panty. Or maybe God’s angel is the person in the car in front of us that we honked at because they didn’t go fast enough when the light turned green. Maybe God intrudes on your life through a book or a movie or a poem. Or maybe God’s call to faith comes in the midst of a tough diagnosis, or when you’ve just learned that you’re going to be laid off, or when tragedy visits you or your family. Such intrusions by the God who is always present with us often catch us off guard in these moments, when we’ve been trained to look for mighty angels or chubby cherubs with wings and trumpets making bold proclamations. Still, such intrusions into life, even when hidden in the still small voice of God, always call for a response from us. 

   These moments in life, depending on how we respond, can strengthen us in our faith, or they can destroy us. When Lynn’s brother Bob and his wife Louann died in their accident three years ago, it would have been very easy to get lost in anger or worse towards the young man whose carelessness led to their death. 

Sadly, that’s how many on Louann’s side of the family have responded. And we can all understand that reaction to some degree because that seems like the response that our culture, our society, often breeds. Lynn’s side of the family, though, realizing early that hating this young man would only hold them captive but do nothing to him, chose to respond with a grace born of their faith. Was it challenging? Absolutely it was. But even as it took little time for them to get there - it was a natural ultimate response for them because that’s how they are.

   The poem that inspires this series, written by an unknown prisoner and found on the wall of a German concentration camp in World War II, speaks to the kind of faith that carries a person through the most difficult of times, the kind of faith that Mary exhibited as a way of life: 

“I believe in the sun

even when it is not shining

And I believe in love,

even when there’s no one there.

And I believe in God,

even when he is silent.

I believe through any trial,

there is always a way.

But sometimes in this suffering

and hopeless despair

My heart cries for shelter,

to know someone’s there.

But a voice rises within me, saying hold on

my child, I’ll give you strength,

I’ll give you hope. Just stay a little while.”

   It’s this kind of faith, I believe, that leads God to Mary in the first place because God knew Mary’s heart, knew Mary’s faith. And her response is one of ultimate trust in God. She had no way of knowing what was going to happen, but she understood the stigma, the public shaming this would place on her. 

And she had to understand that this would be difficult for Joseph as well. But in order to say “yes, let it be with me as you say,” she also had to trust that God was at work in Joseph as well. 

   And the passage says that she immediately went up to the hill country to see her cousin Elizabeth, who, the angel had just told her, was also having a baby. And the Holy Spirit is present in this moment as these two mothers-to-be and these two holy children come together. And in this moment, Mary’s response takes on an even deeper meaning as she embraces what God is doing in and through her and her yet unborn child.

"My soul lifts up the Lord! 

    My spirit celebrates God, my Liberator!

    For though I’m God’s humble servant,

        God has noticed me.

    Now and forever,

        I will be considered blessed by all generations. 

    For the Mighty One has done great things for me;

        holy is God’s name!

    From generation to generation,

        God’s loving kindness endures

        for those who revere Him. 

    God’s arm has accomplished mighty deeds.

        The proud in mind and heart,

        God has sent away in disarray. 

    The rulers from their high positions of power,

        God has brought down low.

    And those who were humble and lowly,

        God has elevated with dignity.

    The hungry—God has filled with fine food.

        The rich—God has dismissed with nothing in their hands.

    To Israel, God’s servant,

        God has given help,

    As promised to our ancestors,

        remembering Abraham and his descendants in mercy forever."

   As Rev. Alan Brehm points out, “While Mary’s song is a song of hope and joy, there’s just no way to avoid the fact that there is a barb in the good news that God is working to restore the human family. That barb is this—most of us fall into the category of the “full” and the “rich” who will be sent away hungry and empty-handed. Mary’s song of hope is a joyful one for those who are lowly, humble and humiliated, the least and the last. And yet, even here there is good news—the future Mary looked forward to is a vision of hope and of the restoration of the whole human family.  She saw in the birth of her son the establishment of the justice that makes it possible for all people to thrive, to reach their God-given potential, to experience the joy and the vibrancy that God intends for us all."

  "What that means for those of us who are “full” and “rich” here and now is that the only way for us to sing Mary’s song with the same kind of joy—the joy of the “lowly” being lifted up—is if we actually engage in God’s work of restoration. The only way for us to sing Mary’s song with joy and hope is for us to work at lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry, and restoring those who are disenfranchised. 

That was what Jesus came to do—to begin God’s work of making all things new, of setting right the wrongs and lifting the burdens we all carry.  That’s why we celebrate Advent and Christmas.  It is a time for us to focus our attention on God’s work in this broken world. It is a time of looking for the salvation that God has promised, and a time of singing for joy over what God is already doing among us.  It is a time to celebrate the work of restoration God is carrying out in the human family—the whole human family. And it is a time for us to join that work.”

   Mary’s faith allows her to look beyond what’s right in front of her to God’s preferred future. Her faith is such that, even if she doesn’t understand what God wants to do in and through her, she trusts implicitly in God’s goodness and faithfulness. Even when her immediate future appears cloudy she believes firmly in the God who promised to turn the world upside down. 

   The issue for us always, however, is can we, like Mary, just let it be as God desires? Often, we need to know what’s next and be in control. Can we simply let go and let God, as they say? Mary’s faithful response provides us with a living illustration of how to be as we, too, ponder the Bethlehem stable. Without seeking to control or glamorize or add or overanalyze, can we just let the story be what it is this Christmas? Can we allow God to say what needs to be said through this simple birth? 

Can we step back in awe and wonder of a child and just ponder these things in our hearts and allow God to do what God needs to do with us, in us, and through us?

 Can we, when we don’t know what the future holds, when we don’t know how God will bring about good, can we believe in the sun even when it isn’t shining? Can we just let it be? Amen.

11-26-17 Sermon Notes “A Way Out of Now Way: Serving”

11-26-17 Sermon Notes “A Way Out of Now Way: Serving”

   The events of today’s reading occur decades after last week’s about the Ten Commandments. At the end of the Book of Deuteronomy Moses dies and the mantle of leadership passes to Joshua. It was Joshua, not Moses, who led the people of Israel across the Jordan River and into the land God had given. So in our reading today, Joshua, now an old man, is approaching death. 

And just as Moses, at the end of Deuteronomy, left final instructions with Joshua about what the people were to do - reminding them of the journey they had made with God to that point - so we now find Joshua, at the end of the book that bears his name, doing the same thing.

   He reminds Israel of the promise, given first to Abram as he was called from beyond the Euphrates, then passed on through his once unimaginable (even inconceivable) heirs, that God would bless them to be a blessing to others, and that God would give them this land that, 

by Joshua’s time, they finally possess. 

   There’s only one problem…or ten of them. Those pesky commandments keep getting in the way. Especially those first couple about having no other gods or no images of gods. The people of Israel keep messing up on those two in particular - the others as well, but those two are the ones that are particularly worrisome to Joshua. So at the conclusion of today’s passage, Joshua, frustrated by their ongoing failure, says to them, 

“Choose the gods whom your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you live. But my family and I will serve the Lord.”

   What a Hallmark moment, right? Other translations phrase it more poetically, “as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord,” which presents much nicer for the pillows, wallhangings, and cross-stitch patterns on which we usually see this line emblazoned. But unlike other little snatches of scripture that, when taken out of their larger contexts sometimes don’t always hold up as well, this one can stand on it’s own. We can be certain of what this statement means, what it commits the proclaimer to, even without reading the rest of the book. 

Joshua proclaims loudly and clearly, “We will follow the Lord!”

   But listen to this. Here’s how this reading, which almost always ends with this well known phrase, continues - what Paul Harvey would have called the rest of the story:

   Then the people answered, “God forbid that we ever leave the Lord to serve other gods! The Lord is our God. He is the one who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage. 

He has done these mighty signs in our sight. He has protected us the whole way we’ve gone and in all the nations through which we’ve passed. The Lord has driven out all the nations before us, including the Amorites who lived in the land. We too will serve the Lord, because he is our God.”

   Well Joshua is skeptical to say the least. These people haven’t shown that they could successfully follow God to the end of the block, first under Moses’ and then Joshua’s leadership. So when I read this next piece, in my mind, I heard it as though spoken by Tom Hanks with that “there’s no crying in baseball’ voice from A League of Their Own:

“You can’t serve the Lord, because [God] is a holy God…a jealous God. [God] won’t forgive your rebellion and your sins. If you leave the Lord and serve foreign gods, then [God] will turn around and do you harm and finish you off, in spite of having done you good in the past.”

   But the people persist - they’re sure they can do this. 

  “No! The Lord is the one we will serve.”

   So Joshua said to them, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen to serve the Lord.”

They said, “We are witnesses!”

   So Joshua says, “…put aside the foreign gods that are among you. Focus your hearts on the Lord, the God of Israel.”

The people said to Joshua, “We will serve the Lord our God and will obey him.”

   So Joshua writes a covenant for the people in the instruction scroll that Moses had passed on. 

Then, the passage says, 

“he took a large stone and put it up there under the oak in the sanctuary of the Lord. Joshua said to all the people, “This stone will serve as a witness against us, because it has heard all the Lord’s words that he spoke to us. It will serve as a witness against you in case you aren’t true to your God.”  Then Joshua sent the people away to each one’s legacy.”

   So Joshua calls the people out. Fine, he suggests, you can SAY you’re going to follow the Lord, but everything you say and do can and will be held against you in a court of law… as it were. And if you read on into the next book, Judges, you find that yes indeedy doody, as Joshua suspected, the people couldn’t do it - they turned to their “other gods,” their little hand crafted gods, their carved stone gods, their fired ceramic gods, and if they’d had them their blow mold plastic gods as well. The people of Israel fell like snowflakes. They fell like a house of cards. They dropped like rocks. They collapsed like all the male politicians, journalists, comedians, actors, and celebrities who are dropping all across the spectrum these days amidst various sexual abuse accusations. 

   Oh, those “other gods” are tempting aren’t they? 

And who knew they wielded so much power? 

Certainly they are false gods, there is no other God but the one True God…but these little gods of paganism, chauvinism or whatever isms, still seduce men with power, pleasure, and entitlement and then raise their ugly heads and bite some men right in the…ego. And I say men because it is nearly always men. 

And I have to admit that I cringe when the people I like or support have been caught up in this moment, and I have smiled when the people I don’t like have been ensnared. And honestly, I think this is just beginning - this has a long way to go before it’s over - and that might be a good thing. 

   Jim Wallis, the Evangelical writer and theologian once described racism as America’s original sin. That may be the case. I think the events unfolding, nearly every day before us now though, indicate that this sexist-misogynist-patriarchal power trip mess could be the world’s original sin. And here’s why I say that.

   We know from our previous study that the entire Bible largely reflects the patriarchal culture in which it was written. And by patriarchy we mean a society organized according to the idea of the supremacy of men, of rule by male descent, or where power and control are predominantly held by males.  For example, historically many traditions in the church at large, owing to that patriarchal slant, ascribe blame for the presence of Sin in the world to the woman Eve, when even a cursory reading of that text reveals that the man Adam was right there next to her being seduced by the same temptation and said nothing. That, along with various passages of scripture that we have talked about here before, that seem to limit or diminish the role of women, have created an atmosphere and a skewed point of view in what is primarily but not exclusively the Evangelical branches of the larger church, that have led to women being held in a diminished role or value, of servitude, and at the extremes even of sexual and other forms of slavery, and of being considered property of lesser value than cattle, which has only fed into this cancer of male-power, male-dominance that has persisted for centuries. In some Evangelical traditions those beliefs persist and are reinforced even today, and reflect a centuries-long church supported patriarchy that we see playing out in the news. 

When Jesus came along he very dramatically rejected patriarchy and many patriarchal and otherwise marginalizing practices, and it got him killed. 

Within two to three centuries after his crucifixion, the elevated roles women had gained in what would become the church of his followers that developed immediately afterwards, were quashed and patriarchy was again the norm. As it has been ever since. 

   So Joshua’s question to the people of Israel - which gods will you follow - is as much a question for the church today as it was then. Which gods will we follow? As we said last week with the Ten Commandments, we all have “other gods” that we kneel down to in one way or another. Whether that god is one of the isms - racism, sexism, nationalism, militarism, consumerism, materialism, or another - or whether that god is a social, economic, or political philosophy, we all have  “other gods” that tempt us, that nag at us to be worshiped, 

to be sacrificed to, that seek to come between us and the One True God. 

   Now Joshua’s response to the people - that if they pledge their allegiance to God and then turn back to these “other gods” that God will harm them - I find problematic, not because I don’t like it or because I’m “soft on sin,” but because I don’t believe that it reflects the nature of God as revealed in Jesus Christ. 

That may very well be how Joshua thought about God, but on the other side of the Christ experience I think we have a different, more grace-filled understanding of who and how God is. But if we understand Joshua’s warning to mean that there will be natural consequences to these decisions we make and that because of our free will God will not prevent those chickens from coming home to roost, then I would certainly agree with that. You see, when we say we are going to follow God by following Jesus, that we’re a Christian, we’ve set a bar, a standard. As followers of Jesus Christ - which we all profess to be - the bar that we’ve set, the standard we’ve created, not only precludes following these other gods but also commits us to following the standard Christ set for us of what is right and what is wrong. Jesus Christ, in his life and in his teachings, drew a line - a line tempered by grace, I agree - but a line nonetheless, of what it means to be one of his followers, a disciple. When we are baptized into the faith, whether as an infant or as an adult, a commitment is made to begin a journey toward that ideal of being a follower of Jesus. When a profession of faith is made on our own, we commit to that ideal. It is an understanding of what is right, of what is wrong, of how we are to be in relationship with God and with one another. And even more, as part of our profession of faith, in all Christian traditions, we vow to not only renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness and reject the evil powers of this world, but also to accept the power God gives us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression, in whatever forms they present themselves. 

   Unfortunately, much of the world, and with it many Christians, seem to have lost track of that ideal. When the sins of celebrities or others who lay no claim to a faith are exposed I’m saddened but not overly surprised. But when an Alabama Senatorial candidate who made a name for himself by advocating for the public display of the same Ten Commandments he now makes a mockery of is revealed to have abused, assaulted, and molested women and girls - 

and then is defended and excused by self-proclaimed followers of Christ, despite the overwhelming evidence against him, I’m appalled. 

   You see, that whole “as for me and my house, we will follow the Lord” thing is not just a kitschy slogan to hang on a wall and dust off in time for family at Thanksgiving. It’s a pledge of allegiance to God, and Joshua warns we best not say it if we don’t mean it, or if we don’t intend to at least try to follow it. Who we follow, who we serve, how we relate to God and to one another isn’t something to be considered lightly. Yes, we’re all going to fail in some ways; 

I fall short in some way every day, but God knew we would, and that’s why God surrounds us in grace. But we can’t sit back, assume that we have the right - as men or women - to hurt or oppress someone else, to exercise our power to whatever degree we have it, for our own pleasure, our own satisfaction, or our own gain, or at the expense of others,and then try to claim to be a follower of Christ.

     Theologian Robert Cornwall writes of this passage, 

“What Joshua is doing here is asking for the undivided loyalty of the people to God. In this conversation, the issue is whether they will serve Yahweh, or the other gods served by their neighbors and their ancestors. 

But what about us? Do we have divided loyalties? Is our faith compromised by loyalties to nation or culture? Does our faith define our politics, or does our politics define our faith?”

   And I think that’s an important question - does our faith define our politics, or does our politics define our faith? For years now, in Washington and in political capitals around the nation and around the world, the question of what is right and what is wrong has been subverted by what is politically expedient. 

That is, what helps “my people” - be they Democrats or Republicans - obtain or maintain political power. The Governor of Alabama, a woman, said the other day that the accusations against Roy Moore are deeply disturbing and that the accusers seem credible, but that she would still vote for him because they need to keep that Senate seat in Republican hands. The President’s response suggests that he believes it would be better to have an accused child molester in the Senate than a Democrat. 

   And this is not new - it didn’t start with Roy Moore, or Bill Clinton, or John Kennedy - it goes back to the very beginning of our country, even to the beginning of time. People have always sought to exert power and influence at every level of society for their own benefit, rightness or wrongness be damned. It happens all through scripture from Genesis to Revelation. 

It happened in the early church and it happens in the church today. It happens in every nation, on every continent, all around the globe. Why? 

Because we choose to serve other gods. We choose to allow these “other gods” to have greater influence in our lives and in our decision-making than the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ. And we do it because it’s easier, because the bar is set lower. So what are we to do?

   Theologian and writer Bob Ekblad asks in his comments on this passage: “What are some of the belief systems, attachments, and allegiances that compromise our full allegiance to God and the divine realm? Have we too readily believed our ancestors’ stories that attribute success to hard work, human intelligence, capital, ethnic, or national superiority?” [Preaching God’s Transforming Justice, p. 478]. What are the ideologies that draw us away from our allegiance to God? What are the enticements of this world that lead us away from God’s vision for creation? I have written a book on the Lord’s Prayer, in which I argue that the Lord’s Prayer is our pledge of ultimate allegiance to God and God’s realm. How seriously do we take that prayer? Is it something we say by rote, or do we mean it?”

   So, I think the first step is for us to decide who it is that we will follow? We need to take the time to truly consider individually and collectively, in our homes, in our families, in our workplaces, in our church, what are those ideologies or enticements that draw us away from who and what God calls us to be and to do. And I think we need to seriously consider, in light of all that is going on with the sexual abuse scandal and in other ways, does our faith shape our politics or does our politics shape our faith? 

   As Bob Cornwall writes, 

   “Joshua wants to make sure that the people of Israel have thought deeply about their own allegiances. He reminds them that they have not always been consistent. They have been enticed by other gods. They have been susceptible to powers other than God. So now, as Joshua sees the end of his term as leader drawing near, he wants to make sure the people are committed to God and to God’s covenant…It is time once again to reaffirm that promise, which is now embodied in Israel. Joshua has made his commitment. In stewardship terms, he’s turned in his pledge card. The question is, will the rest of the people do the same?”

   "And the people of Israel wholeheartedly say, [Yes! We will serve God!] “And Joshua asks are you sure? Are you willing to pay the price? [Membership has its privileges, but failure has its costs - not just individually but for the society at large.] Joshua makes it clear that allegiance to God and God’s realm must be more than lip service. It requires our full attention, our full embodied attention. That’s difficult for us. Our allegiances do get split. It’s easier to go along with the culture. It’s easier to embrace nation than God’s realm because nation is so much more tangible. Yet, here is the call of God. Whom will you serve?”

   In Advent, which begins our new liturgical year next Sunday, we anticipate the coming of Christ and the new covenant that he brings. But on this Sunday, Reign of Christ Sunday, the final Sunday of the current liturgical year, we celebrate Christ’s presence, his birth, his life, his teaching, his death, his resurrection, and his eternal reign - all of it - TODAY! 

   We worship a God revealed to us in Jesus Christ who, when it seems like all is lost, when it seems like evil has the upper hand, always, ALWAYS, provides a way out, a way through, a way out of no way. When the floodwaters of life and all that we face appear on the verge of overwhelming us, God saves us. 

When the future as we see it laid out before us seems hopeless, God blesses us. When danger, toil, and snares threaten to engulf us, God protects us. 

When we feel lost and don’t know how to proceed, God delivers us. And when we wonder who we are, why we are, and how we are to be, God consecrates us as beloved children of God and provides us with a way out of no way. And after all that God has done for us, after all that God has promised us, it falls to us to make a decision, to answer the question, who will we serve? Of all the temptations that face us, of all the “other gods” who seek to seduce us into their web, who will we follow? 

   Following Jesus Christ offers us a way to know and be known by God that will shape and reshape the world more closely to the dream that God had for us when we were created. Making the wrong choice, following the wrong gods is dragging down people and societies all around the world, with more on the news every night. Being a follower of Jesus Christ doesn’t provide us an easy life, but it does provide us a life filled with hope. And it provides us with the strength to face down the “other gods” who would entice us into living by a lower standard that hurts and demeans other people, and in turn hurts and demeans the world. 

The difference between right and wrong that Christ helps us struggle with is not a question of political expediency - it’s a moral question. It’s an ethical question. 

And it’s a question we answer each and every day, many times a day, in whether we live like Christ, and love like Christ, or whether we live as the world lives. The Christ who reigns forever offers us strength, that we might not allow the world’s lesser gods to entice us into a lesser standard than the love God as shown through Jesus Christ.  Amen.