Christians in the Reformed tradition have long recognized the dual nature of our life together as a faith community. On the one hand, you have churches that exist as religious institutions. On the other hand, you have the Church that lives as the Body of Christ, the spiritual fellowship of God’s covenant people.
Heinrich Bullinger, writing in 1561, observed:
Again, not all that are reckoned in the number of the Church are saints, and living and true members of the Church. For there are many hypocrites, who outwardly hear the Word of God, and publicly receive the sacraments, and seem to pray to God through Christ alone, to confess Christ to be their only righteousness, and to worship God, and to exercise the duties of charity, and for a time to endure with patience in misfortune. And yet they are inwardly destitute of true illumination of the Spirit, of faith and sincerity of heart, and of perseverance to the end… And therefore the Church of God is rightly compared to a net which catches fish of all kinds, and to a field, in which both wheat and tares are found (Matt. 13:24 ff., 47 ff.).
The Westminster divines identified this duality by referring to the visible church, which is “a society made up of all such as in all ages and places of the world do profess the true religion, and of their children” and the invisible church, which is “the whole number of the elect, that have been, are, or shall be gathered into one under Christ the head.”
Writing over three centuries later, the authors of the Confession of 1967 noted,
The church in its mission encounters other religions and in that encounter becomes conscious of its own human character as a religion… The Christian religion, as distinct from God’s self-revelation, has been shaped throughout its history by the cultural forms of its environment… But the reconciling word of the gospel is God’s judgment upon all forms of religion, including the Christian.
Earlier today, as I was praying for my church, the image of an egg came to mind. When people glance at an egg, they tend to notice the hard and plain exterior shell. Most people don’t think about the baby chick inside. They just see an egg. But if they could somehow get inside, they would immediately notice the disparate chick-to-shell ratio. There’s a lot more bird than egg in there!
As cracks start to appear, many throw up their hands in mourning (or celebration) that the egg is now broken, ruined, and not long for this world. In one sense, they may be right. However, I wonder whether those who focus exclusively on this fact might be forgetting about the amazing new life that lurks just beneath the surface. The cracks signify, not the failure, but the success of life that has grown too big for its shell. The cracks mean that the shell has done its job and life is now ready to burst forth into the world.
I think the church is like that egg. It looks rather rigid, plain, and fragile from the outside. The cracks in our institutional shell are obvious and appear at both congregational and denominational levels. Here are just a few examples:
Lackluster theology
Biblical illiteracy
Indifference to social justice
Cliques
Power-plays
Denominational schisms
Liberal/conservative conspiracy theories (take your pick)
Not enough/too much inclusivity (take your pick)
Worship is too traditional/contemporary (take your pick)
Obsession with church property
Dwindling financial resources
Declining membership
I could keep going…
With all these cracks, it looks like our egg is falling apart. That’s because it is falling apart. It’s supposed to fall apart. Ecclesia reforma, semper reformanda. Our ancestors gave us this shell in order to safeguard the precious treasure of life within it. Just as they hatched from their own institutional shells (think Calvin during the Reformation), life dictates that we must hatch from ours. What’s more is that we will most likely hand our spiritual progeny another shell from which they too will one day break. The shell’s job is to protect and nurture life. Its breakage during times of change is a sign of success not failure.
There’s a lot more bird than egg in our church. There is new life waiting to be born. The future will not look like the past. The decline of mainline Protestant churches doesn’t bother me. I think God is coaxing our churches out of their collective shell so that we can take up the prophetic mantle once again. We are not dying; we are being born.
For some this will mean questioning “the way we’ve always done it” and reforming our denominational or congregational structures from within. For others it will mean abandoning traditional denominations or congregations altogether. Whatever new thing they come up with will not be the end-all/be-all perfect solution forever. It will one day be broken and discarded by their descendants. As Jesus warned his disciples, “Not one stone will be left on top of another.”
Whatever path we feel called to follow, let’s let our focus be on the new life that God is bringing to birth from within the cracking shell of our churches. Let’s be open to the vibrant and prophetic future into which we are being led. Let’s move forward in faith, not fear. For some of us, the chicks hatching from our eggs will be hens who produce new eggs with shells that will nurture and protect the next generation until those chicks are ready to break out. For others of us, the chicks hatching from our eggs will be roosters who climb to the rooftops and sing up sun, announcing the arrival of a new dawn.
Here’s an inspiring passage I found in on pages 19-20 in Douglas F. Ottati’s book, Theology for Liberal Presbyterians and Other Endangered Species (Geneva: 2006).
Will the mainline churches in America hold together or split apart? Will liberal Protestants criticize the excesses and the idols of contemporary American culture but also remain open to the lessons and wisdom that nevertheless seem present in the wider society and culture? Will liberal Protestants simply disappear? Will the United States find positive, realistic, and responsible ways to exercise power in a multilateral world? What shall we say and do about racism, sexism, and homophobia; about urban policy, transportation, and education; about matters of war and peace? Can we ever become stewards of our natural environment?
These are among the important questions we face. Nevertheless, for Christians and their communities, the more basic question is this: How shall we center a faithful witness? The function of Christian theology is to help us answer this question, and I propose that we answer it in a single sentence: We belong to the God of grace.
Once we are clear about this, a number of things follow. First, we live in assurance, refuse to set limits on the extent of God’s faithfulness, and refuse to exclude anyone from the scope of grace and redemption. We then work for an inclusive church, support a ministry of reconciliation, and invite everyone everywhere to lay hold of the assurance and confidence that come with the knowledge of a gracious God. Second, we acknowledge the human fault and, without losing hope, maintain a realistic attitude toward the present age and its daunting challenges. Finally, we affirm that all people have worth, and we commit ourselves to public practices, policies, and leadership that respect persons, pursue equitable opportunities for the poor, and care for those in need.
We belong to the God of grace. This simple confession will enable us to interpret the many threats and conflicts and issues and promises of our day in a definite theological frame of reference.
Star Trek's George Takei (Mr. Sulu). Image by Gage Skidmore.
Did you know that there’s a civil war going on in our country right now? I’m serious. There is. It’s been happening for over thirty years. Unlike the last Civil War, this one isn’t between the North and South. You might be thinking, “He means the war between the political Right and the political Left.” Nope. Black and White? Nope. Haves and Have-nots? Not even close. Right now, I’m talking about the bitter divide that exists between Star Trek fans and Star Wars fans. The geeks and nerds community is a house divided against itself. My fellow Americans, this cannot be!
I feel so torn in this conflict. The fight between Star Trek and Star Wars runs right through the center of my own heart. I dream of one day being beamed aboard the starship Enterprise so that I too can “boldly go where no one has gone before.” At the same time, I also fantasize about trained as a Jedi by Obi Wan Kenobi. How can they ask me to choose sides between these two epic artifacts of science fiction lore?
Fortunately, there is one person out there who has issued a call for “Star Peace” and it’s none other than George Takei, the original Mr. Sulu on Star Trek. He’s calling for a “Star Alliance” of fans from Star Trek and Star Wars who are willing to put aside their differences and fight the real threat to good science fiction: Twilight. You may have seen the Twilight books and films being advertised in recent years. For those who haven’t experienced it, Twilight, in George Takei’s own words, is all about “Vampires who sparkle and mope and go to high school.” In Twilight, according to Takei, there is no “sense of heroism, camaraderie, and epic battle… There are no great stories, characters, or profound life lessons to be had… In Twilight, the only message that rings through loud and clear is: ‘Does my boyfriend like me?’”
Now, I don’t actually care if people like Twilight. So why am I telling you this? Why am I taking time out of my sermon to drag you down this wormhole into the darkest depths of the nerd kingdom? Because I’m very intrigued by the way in which Mr. Takei has criticized Twilight. Let me give it to you again in his words:
Gone is any sense of heroism, camaraderie, or epic battle. In its place we have vampires that sparkle and mope and go to high school… there are no great stories, characters, or profound life lessons to be had in Twilight. No. In Twilight, the only message that rings through loud and clear is: ‘Does my boyfriend like me?’
What Mr. Takei is saying, in so many words, is that good stories are always bigger than the people in them.
As it is in science fiction, so it is in real life. Imagine those who live entirely selfish lives with no connection to anyone or anything other than that which maximizes their own personal profit. The thrill of financial stability lasts for a little while, but wears thin eventually. Who can’t think of tabloid headlines depicting any number of celebrity scandals brought on by conspicuous consumption and wanton indulgence? Despite its material benefits, I think most of us can agree that such a life does not sound ultimately appealing. Something deep within us longs to be part of a bigger story than that of our own little lives.
We’ve been talking about the Elements of Worship these past few weeks at our church. On the first week, we talked about the Word of God as an Element of Worship. Last week we talked about Prayer. If you missed either of those sermons, you can listen to them on our website at www.fpcboonville.org. In coming weeks, we will discuss Sacrament and Relationship as Elements of Worship. This week, we’re talking about Service as an Element of Worship.
“Service” is a word that we use a lot. If you go out to a restaurant where the staff is friendly and the refills keep coming, you’re probably going to say, “Wow! This place has really good service!” And what will you do next? You’ll probably leave a bigger tip. Isn’t that interesting? A waiter brings his whole self to work, welcomes customers with genuine personal warmth, and people just naturally respond with generosity. Remember that point because it will become important later. Here’s another example: When a person is a soldier or sailor in some branch of our country’s armed forces, we say that she is “in the service.” In other words, she dedicates her whole self to the cause of national defense by risking her life in a combat zone. We tend to respect that, don’t we? A lot of people wear yellow ribbons that say, “Support the Troops.”
In the same way, when we talk about service as an Element of Worship, we’re talking about more than this one-hour-per-week ritual that we do on Sunday mornings in this building. We’re talking about more than the cash we fork over in the collection plate. We’re even talking about more than the time and energy that so many of you tirelessly volunteer for our various church projects during the year. Just like that waiter or soldier, real service happens when you offer your whole self to something bigger than you. Service, as an Element of Worship, is a self-offering.
As Christians, we see our self-offering as connected to and growing out of the self-offering of Jesus. His life, death, and resurrection provide us with a lens through which we can come to understand what it means to give ourselves as an offering.
First, his life. Jesus gave himself as an offering in two ways. He offered himself to God and he offered himself to others. These two ideas cannot be separated. Jesus believed that God is Love, therefore you can’t love God with your whole heart, soul, mind, and strength without loving your neighbor as yourself. If you try to do one without the other, you’re going to end up very confused about what love is.
Jesus’ commitment to love (in this dual sense) got him into trouble on more than one occasion. He exposed the hypocrisy of the powers that be. He threatened the security of religious and political authorities in ways that no terrorist ever could. Leaders in the public and private sectors alike were so frightened by what Jesus stood for that they even temporarily put aside their mutual hatred for each other in a grand conspiracy to have him killed.
Under these circumstances, no one would have blamed Jesus for mounting a defensive strategy in order to ensure his own survival, but that’s not what he does. It says in today’s reading from the gospel according to Matthew: “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Jesus walks straight into the belly of the beast, knowing full-well what the beast is about to do to him.
Jesus was not so caught up in his own ego that he wasn’t willing to offer himself. He knew that his personal story was part of the universe’s bigger story. Sure, he could pick up a sword and fight for his own survival, but he knew that survival isn’t everything. His fellow Jews were fighting for their survival every day and, ironically, it was killing them. “Those who live by the sword die by the sword,” he said.
So, instead of the path of survival, Jesus opted for the path of self-offering. He lived his life of love as an offering to God and others. When that love brought him into conflict with powerful forces that wanted to kill him, he walked the way of the cross and let them do their worst. But that’s not the end of the story.
What happens next is the best part. We celebrate it every year at Easter time. The offering turned into a miracle. Early in the morning, on the first day of the week, three women found an empty tomb. And an angel asked them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. He is risen!” This is where the big story really gets going. Death itself starts to unravel like an ugly old sweater. The powers that be were vanquished by the power of love. Christians remember this event annually as our most sacred holiday. We celebrate it weekly in order to remind ourselves of what we really believe in. As Christians, we don’t believe in survival; we believe in resurrection. That is the true meaning of service (self-offering) as an Element of Worship. Jesus taught us that.
What does this look like for us? That’s a great story about Jesus, but how can we live lives of self-offering and resurrection today? Jesus said to his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” The way of the cross is a path, not just for Jesus, but for all of us as well. We who claim to follow him must decide whether we will choose survival (like the world) or resurrection (like Jesus).
When we choose to follow the way of the cross, we become part of a story that’s bigger than us. We say that we are willing to jeopardize our survival for something more important. It’s a dangerous move to make, but if we move in faith, we see miracles. I once heard someone say that, until you find something worth dying for, you’re not really living. Are we really living? Are you? What are you willing to die for? What is this church willing to die for? When we find an answer to that question, we’ll learn what resurrection is really all about. Like George Takei was saying: there we will find heroism, camaraderie, and epic battles. There there are great stories, characters, and profound life lessons to be had.
I heard a story this week from Rev. Marlin Lavanhar, the senior minister at All Souls’ Unitarian Church in Tulsa, OK. He said their church made a rather controversial decision several years ago. They decided to take all the money that came into the church through their collection plate (about $20,000 per year) and give it away. People were scared because that’s a lot of money. The church depended on that money for their operating costs. But they decided it was the right thing to do, so they amended their budget and went for it. In that first year, rather than the $20,000 that usually came in through the collection plate, they raised $150,000 and gave it all away. Now, you might say, “That’s great, but it’s too bad that they couldn’t meet their budget.” Actually, according to Marlin, they did meet their budget that year. They even took in about 10% more than they needed. “Generosity begets generosity,” Marlin said. Remember what I said about the waiter? When somebody serves from the heart and offers him/herself, aren’t you just naturally inclined to leave a bigger tip? Generosity begets generosity.
Let’s find another example, maybe one that’s a little closer to home. I’ve mentioned this already, but I can’t help bragging on you folks again. You remember this past Christmas Eve, right? We heard about a crisis in our community where the county government was cutting funding to daycare programs. Hundreds of kids were being affected and some of the most reputable and affordable daycare agencies were in danger of closing. And the elders of our church voted unanimously to take the collection from Christmas Eve, our single biggest worship service of the year, and send the whole thing to one of those struggling daycare agencies. Did you know that, with what came in that night, our little country church was able to cut a check for $1,000 to Thea Bowman House? We’ve never taken up a Christmas Eve collection that big! Generosity begets generosity. Did you know that there are people in the community who noticed what we did and decided to join our church because of it? That’s resurrection in action.
One more story about you folks. Last summer, controversy was in the air as New York state was making a decision about legalizing same-sex marriage. I drove down to Albany that week and stood in the halls of the state capitol building. I saw the crowds of people shouting and holding signs with Bible verses about hellfire and damnation. During that time, our little church took a stand. We stood up and said, “All God’s children are created equal: black or white, male or female, gay or straight.” At a church supper only two weeks before that happened, one of our own long-time church members came out of the closet to us at a church supper. He shared his story with us. And I remember the first thing that anybody said, after a long silence, was, “Well, God don’t make no junk!” Our church took a stand. We made a statement that this is a welcoming church. We told the world that this church is a place where the law of love trumps the letter of the law.
Sure, it was a controversial thing to do. It still is. Our survival instinct might tell us to keep quiet and not rock the boat, because we don’t want to lose church members to controversy. But you all chose resurrection instead of survival. Did you know that people in the community noticed what we did? On the very next Sunday after the legislation passed in Albany, a news crew surprised us during our morning worship. They had TV news cameras set up right here in the sanctuary. People heard about our little country church and said, “What? A church that accepts and welcomes gay and lesbian people? A church that believes that God loves everybody? We’ve got to check this out!” In the past few months, families have driven in from as far away as Utica to visit our church. We didn’t lose people by being controversial, we gained them! That’s resurrection in action!
And let me tell you what: we’re going to keep doing it. We’re going to open the doors of this church so wide that the whole world will know it’s welcome here. There are a lot of churches in Boonville, but there’s not very many where people can go and know they’ll be loved and accepted no matter who they are. But people know they’re welcome here. This sermon is being played on the radio, so even more people will know after this week. I know it’s controversial but I don’t care (and neither should you). Just like Jesus, we are offering ourselves to God and our neighbors. We are choosing resurrection over survival.
When we go downstairs after worship today, we’ll be hearing our annual reports from all our different church committees. We’ll be voting on this year’s budget and deciding our thoughts together for 2012. As you look at the paperwork and hear the reports, I want you to remember what service and self-offering are really all about. I want to invite you to look past your ego-driven instinct for survival and look to your God-given faith in resurrection. That, more than anything else, will make a difference for the future of our church. Like George Takei was saying: here we will find heroism, camaraderie, and epic battles. Here there are great stories, characters, and profound life lessons to be had.
Here is a video of George Takei’s call for Star Peace:
I am writing you with the request that you share these thoughts with my brothers and sisters in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.):
It is incumbent upon all of God’s children to speak out against injustice. It is sometimes equally important to speak in solidarity when justice has been done. For that reason I am writing to affirm my belief that in making room in your constitution for gay and lesbian Christians to be ordained as church leaders, you have accomplished an act of justice.
I realize that among your ecumenical partners, some voices are claiming that you have done the wrong thing, and I know that you rightly value your relationship with Christians in other parts of the world. Sadly, it is not always popular to do justice, but it is always right. People will say that the ones you are now willing to ordain are sinners. I have come to believe, through the reality shared with me by my scientist and medical friends, and confirmed to me by many who are gay, that being gay is not a choice. Like skin color or left-handedness, sexual orientation is just another feature of our diversity as a human family. How wonderful that God has made us with so much diversity, yet all in God’s image! Salvation means being called out of our narrow bonds into a broad place of welcome to all.
You are undoubtedly aware that in some countries the church has been complicit in the legal persecution of lesbians and gays. Individuals are being arrested and jailed simply because they are different in one respect from the majority. By making it possible for those in same-gender relationships to be ordained as pastors, preachers, elders, and deacons, you are being a witness to your ecumenical partners that you believe in the wideness of God’s merciful love.
For freedom Christ has set us free. In Christ we are not bound by old, narrow prejudice, but free to embrace the full humanity of our brothers and sisters in all our glorious differences. May God bless you as you live into this reality, and may you know that there are many Christians in the world who continue to stand by your side.
God bless you.
Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu (Cape Town, South Africa)
One of the scariest things about the Bible is how people can take one small part literally and out-of-context in order to make it say some pretty strange things. We’re used to this in some ways. Who hasn’t seen “John 3:16” posted on billboards or bumper stickers around town? Thank goodness nobody (so far) has put Leviticus 26:29 on their bumper sticker: “You shall eat the flesh of your sons, and you shall eat the flesh of your daughters.” Personally, that verse alone is enough to make me think twice before eating at any place that calls itself a “family restaurant”!
What would it be like if we took things that literally in our love poetry?
“Oh darling, your face reminds me of the morning sun!”
“Are you calling me a giant ball of gas?!”
It wouldn’t work!
And it doesn’t work with the Bible either. The Bible is not a magic book filled with easy answers that can never be wrong. Yet some Christians still seem to treat it as such.
I have a good friend who has struggled with clinical depression for over a decade. Folks at church would tell her things like, “You should just remember what it says in Nehemiah 8:10: ‘the joy of the Lord is your strength.’” These folks sincerely meant well, but their words did more harm than good.
My friend responded, “Ordering me around with Bible verses about joy will only make me feel more distant from God than I already do!”
Again, the Bible is not a magic book that’s full of easy and infallible answers. It’s complicated and often confusing. The divine Word comes to us in the midst of these human words. You have to listen for it. And sometimes, it can be very hard to hear.
Nowhere in the Bible is this truer than in the passage we read this morning from Genesis. This is the real end of the Noah’s Ark story. It’s the part they probably didn’t teach you about in Sunday school. It’s pretty dark and disturbing, isn’t it? There’s no divine intervention or moral to the story. All we have is the image of Noah getting blackout drunk, Ham committing an unspeakable act of abuse against his father, and Noah then cursing his grandson Canaan for all time. This story doesn’t lend itself to simplistic interpretation.
Many biblical scholars see this as a story that was made up in order to explain the origins of a certain international conflict. In the ancient Middle East, there was an intense rivalry between Israelites and Canaanites. They were competitors for the same piece of land (not unlike the modern-day conflict between Israelis and Palestinians). Undoubtedly, young Hebrews would eventually come to the point of asking, “Why do we hate them so much, anyway?” So the tribal elders produced this story as an answer to that question. You may have noticed that Noah’s cursed grandson is named “Canaan”, just like the nation that was then in conflict with the Israelites.
Canaan was the son of Ham, who had other sons. If you look at the list of their descendants in Genesis 10, you’ll see some other familiar names: Egypt, Babylon, Assyria, and the Philistines. All of these (along with the Canaanites) were the ancient enemies of Israel. And (according to the story) they all had Noah’s son Ham as their common ancestor. The Israelites, on the other hand, claimed Noah’s other son, Shem, as their ancestor. By the way, that’s where we get the words “Semitic” and “Anti-Semitic” in reference to Jewish people. “Semitic” is derived from the name “Shem”.
So, for the purposes of this story, all of Israel’s national enemies are lumped into one convenient ethnic basket. They can all be traced back to one person: Ham son of Noah. You can see why the Israelite storytellers then had a vested interest in making this individual out to be as nasty and evil as possible. So they have him commit this horrible act of violence against a member of his own family (who also happens to be a member of Israel’s family, according to the mythological genealogy in Genesis).
The text tells us that Ham “saw the nakedness of his father”. This is more than just accidentally walking in on someone in the shower. It’s a Hebrew euphemism that typically refers to some kind of shameful abuse. Thankfully, the text spares us the gory details.
Ham, the ancestor of Israel’s enemies, is a perverted deviant while Shem, the ancestor of Israel, is the hero who tries to help his father. As a result, Noah proclaims, “Cursed be Canaan [son of Ham]” and “Blessed by Yahweh my God be Shem”. So, an ancient Hebrew reading this story would come away with the notion that “we are the good guys” and “they (our enemies) are the bad guys”. The purpose of this story is to justify the hatred of one’s enemies. It paints the ancestor of one’s rival as a monster who was less than human. This hardly seems consistent with the ethic of love that Jesus taught!
What’s even more disturbing is the way this text was interpreted by Christians for several centuries. You’re looking at the primary biblical text that was used to justify the institution of slavery until the 19th century. Early commentators portrayed Ham as the ancestor of African people. His African descendants, they said, bore the weight of Noah’s curse and were thus doomed to be the “lowest of slaves”. Christians bought this line of twisted theology for hundreds of years. Our African brothers and sisters suffered and died under the yoke of slavery because of it. It wasn’t until the 19th century that Christians in the abolitionist movement came up with a new way to read and interpret the Bible. Thankfully, many Christians in that day followed this new guiding light from the Holy Spirit. In fact, some of them lived right here in our own community. We know from historical records that the Underground Railroad ran right through our little village of Boonville as escaped slaves made their way toward freedom.
You may notice that, while I’ve said a lot about how this passage should not be interpreted, I haven’t said much about how this passage should be interpreted. I’ll be honest: I’m not going to. This is a difficult passage that defies easy answers. If I were to make an attempt at interpreting this passage, it might go something like this:
This is a warning passage. The hateful rhetoric in the book of Genesis eventually gave rise to brutal genocide of Canaanites in the book of Joshua. In the same way, the Anti-Semitism of Adolf Hitler in the 1930s eventually gave rise to the Holocaust in the 1940s. I might ask a question: What words are we using today that might become the basis for atrocities in the future? But, like I said, I’m not going to give this particular Genesis passage a full treatment in this sermon. Instead, I’m using it as a springboard to launch us into a discussion about how we understand and use the Bible itself.
If we treat the Bible like a magic book with easy and infallible answers, then we are bound to end up in some strange ideological territory. This text alone has been used to justify everything from slavery to genocide. The good news is that this is not the only way to read the Bible. If we come to the text with open minds and hearts, we can trust that the Holy Spirit can and does still speak to us through these ancient words. Even though the Bible was used to uphold the institution of slavery, let’s not forget that the abolitionists also drew their inspiration from the same Bible. They just read it differently!
How can we be sure that we won’t end up reading the Bible in a way that oppresses and dehumanizes our fellow human beings? What kinds of tools are out there to help us listen for the divine Word as it comes to us in midst of these human words? There are several.
To name a few, I’m going to pull from a paper published by the Presbyterian Church back in in 1982. It sets forth some general guidelines for understanding the authority and interpretation of the Bible. These guidelines are printed on an insert in your bulletin. I invite you to take it home with you and look it over in greater detail. In the meantime, let’s read these guidelines out loud together as our Affirmation of Faith this morning:
BIBLICAL AUTHORITY AND INTERPRETATION
The United Presbyterian Church in the USA, 1982
Recognize that Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, is the center of Scripture. The redemptive activity of God is central to the entire Scripture. The Old Testament themes of the covenant and the messiah testify to this activity. In the center of the New Testament is Jesus Christ: the Word made flesh, the fulfillment of Israel’s messianic hope, and the promise of the Kingdom. It is to Christ that the church witnesses. When interpreting Scripture, keeping Christ in the center aids in evaluating the significance of the problems and controversies that always persist in the vigorous, historical life of the church.
Let the focus be on the plain text of Scripture, to the grammatical and historical context, rather than to allegory or subjective fantasy.
Depend on the guidance of the Holy Spirit in interpreting and applying God’s message.
Be guided by the doctrinal consensus of the church, which is the rule of faith.
Let all interpretations be in accord with the rule of love, the two-fold commandment to love God and to love our neighbor.
Remember that the interpretation of the Bible requires earnest study in order to establish the best text and to interpret the influence and cultural context in which the divine message has come.
Seek to interpret a particular passage of the Bible in light of all the Bible.
Posted below is the sermon, which was written and delivered by my dear friend (and fellow Trekkie), the Reverend Naomi Kelly. Naomi serves as pastor of Forest Presbyterian Church in Lyons Falls, NY. This sermon is reprinted with her permission.
Her text is the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:1-12.
I’m sure that you’ve watched many Star Trek episodes, and I’m sure you’re familiar with the Episode from Star Trek: The Next Generation where Captain Picard becomes a little boy, there is some kind ionic cloud and passes over the shuttle craft and he, Guinan and Ensign Ro are genetically altered to the time just before puberty, they are pre-teens is you will. Captain Picard is very happy that he has hair, and when the antidote seems impossible and the he will be young and grow up again, and be given another chance to go through life, he begins to imagine what he can become, he was already a Star Ship Captain, maybe this time he will be an archaeologist, another one of his passions. But soon the ship is in danger and young or not he must act, he must do something to save his ship. It was very difficult for him not being able to command his ship the way he used to. He still has all his skills, only in a younger body. And he finds that when he changes his perspective and begins to see with the eyes of a child he is able to do great things, he is able to use his childishness to save the ship. His perspective is changed as he figures out what he needs to do in order to succeed at his calling. When Jean Luc was able to humble himself, to become vulnerable, to allow the child that he’d become to direct his actions, he was able to do great things. Star Trek always has the ability to give us new and fresh perspectives on our culture by taking us outside ourselves just enough so that we can see where we fall short, where we need work, what we can do better.
Jesus does that too, (you see Star Trek always copies Jesus) Jesus gives us new perspectives on life, like His Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes give us one such twist. Seasons of the Spirit, a commentary on “Year A January 30, 2011 says: “In these saying, Jesus turns human notions of happiness upside down. What kind of living brings God’s blessing? Jesus teaches that the blessed ones are those who are humble of heart, who are gentle, who show mercy, who hunger and thirst for God’s ways. Those who mourn will be comforted; those who make peace will be called God’s children. Those who are persecuted in the cause of justice will find themselves part of God’s transforming reality.”
The Beatitudes give us a beautiful vision of what the world can be like. It is a vision that allows us to see the world from a different perspective. Like Paul says in the letter to the Philippians we need to be humble as Jesus was humble, to be more Christ like- that gentle merciful nature that is part of us, that we hide away, because we think it makes us vulnerable is what Jesus reminds us to show to the world. The kind of power that we’re used to, is not God’s idea of power.
These stories are revealing of the church in a way, they remind us that at one time the church took itself too seriously, that we began to want more power and influence in the world, and now all the mainline denominations are struggling, perhaps we lost the vision of Jesus’ teachings, perhaps the world doesn’t need what we have to offer anymore. I don’t know about you, but I often think I know better than God, I have all the answers, this kind of attitude leaves us inflexible, and not humble at all.
It is time for new a perspective again, it is time to reform and always be reforming, it is time to read the words that we have had handed down to us with new eyes, in a new light, and see where we need to change our perspective. The Spirit of Christ enables us to do that, gives us the insight and vision to change. Just as the young Jean Luc was able to change his perspective and use the skills of a pre-teen to save his ship, we are able to open to new ways of being church to make a difference in our world. And we can say, Blessed are the weak because when we are weak then God is strong and can influence and change our lives and our behavior. Blessed are the flexible for they will survive the changes that come along.
Blessed are the young at heart for they will able to transform the church to serve the world and each other.
Today I descend into the world of self-absorbed bloggerhood and obscure historical references.
Hadrian’s Wall is a structure built by the Romans in the second century AD. It marks the boundary between England and Scotland. I am using it as a metaphor for what’s going on in my life right now. I am currently transferring my ordination credentials from an historically English denomination (Free Episcopal) to an historically Scottish denomination (Presbyterian). Hence, I am “hopping over Hadrian’s Wall”.
My reasons for making this journey are highly personal and I’d rather not discuss them publicly. I am grateful to the people of the Free Episcopal Church for their friendship, nurture, and support over the past four years. I hope to continue those friendships for many years to come. Theirs is an incredible vision for ministry among the most marginalized members of society. Free Episcopal clergy and lay ministers can be found in jails, drug rehabs, hospice care, and nursing homes. Mainline churches would be wise to take note of the Free Episcopal model of ministry, as it may provide more creative and sustainable options for the future.
As my attention turns toward making a new home for myself in the Presbyterian Church (USA), I am preparing to take a battery of ordination exams in late January/early February. Please pray for me as I hone my skills in Reformed theology, Presbyterian polity, and biblical exegesis.
I am also branching into congregational ministry for the first time at First Presbyterian Church of Boonville, NY. I work there part-time, while I continue my ministry on the street and my teaching at Utica College. Until I pass the ordination exams, I am officially “Temporary Supply” at Boonville. This means that I preach three times a month and am on-call for pastoral emergencies. I can’t do weddings, baptisms, or communion for now.
St. James Mission is in the process of reorganizing itself as an ecumenical outreach ministry in downtown Utica. Our work will continue, although its form may change somewhat. For now, we’re continuing to meet every Thursday evening for Bible study in the chapel at First Presbyterian Church of Utica. Worship starts at 6pm. Everyone’s welcome!
So that’s the news from me. See you on the other side of Hadrian’s Wall!