justice

The Way of the Cross: The Foolish Power of God

These past few weeks, we have been working our way through the opening of Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthians.

In today’s installment, Paul asks a question that always piques my interest: “Where is the debater of this age?” See, I used to do debate, sometimes called policy debate or cx debate, in high school and college, traveling all over the country to tournaments. So, when Paul talks about debaters, I notice.

His question here, however, is not a serious question. In the Roman world and the Greek world before it, debate was popular, all forms of oratory were. And all educated people, of which Paul is certainly one, would have been trained in the art of debate. Paul knows exactly where to go to find a debater in that age. No, this is not a serious question, it is a rhetorical question designed to mock. Ultimately, he is trying to set up an argument for why the faith we proclaim is better than the values of the world.

Debate is ultimately about wins and losses, and you are to strive for the wins. Victory and success. The whole point is to convince the audience or judge or judges that you are right and that your opponent is wrong. This was as true then; it still is today. In debate, there are winners and losers.

To win, to persuade people of your rightness, every debater would have used Aristotle’s three-fold approach to persuasion, found in the book Rhetoric. Everyone would have read this book in school, Paul most certainly read this book in school. In Rhetoric, Aristotle argues that you need to use some combination of your own ethos (your presence, expertise, position), the pathos of your audience (their worries, fears, anxieties), and your logos (your words, the carefully structured logic – logos/logic – the carefully structured logic of your words). Ethos, pathos, and logos.

But the logos Paul really cares about is not the logos of our arguments, but the Logos of God. Logos means Word. In the beginning was the Word, the Logos, and the Logos became flesh and lived among us. Paul points to the true Logos. Not the debater’s logos, not Aristotle's logos, but the true and ultimate Logos, the incarnate Logos, the incarnate Word: Jesus Christ.

And the image of the logos with which Paul starts the argument of this letter is the Logos hanging there on the cross. "The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to those who are being saved it is the power of God." This is counter to everything that the debater - of Paul's age, of our age, of every age - cares about. Losing instead of winning; failure instead of success.

The cross: that shameful tool of execution of the Roman State, designed to make a point to the whole body politic by publicly humiliating the victim. The cross: the ancient equivalent of the electric chair or the lynching tree or the gun used in a summary execution by an agent of the state on the street.

The Cross - this horrendous thing - is the foundation of true wisdom, true knowledge, true discernment, true boasting. The cross is the foundation of Paul's argument – remember we are just starting this letter, he is still laying the foundation for his argument that will unfold – the cross is the foundation of the argument that is going to take him into his wild claims later in the letter about what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ, a baptized member of the Body of Christ - when he will claim that even the weakest, lowliest member is not only necessary, but often the most valuable - and his audacious claims about the primacy of love over every other gift.

This argument is an echo what Jesus proclaimed from the mountain that we heard in the Gospel today: blessed are the poor, the mourners, the meek, the hungry, the thirsty, the merciful, the pure, the peacemakers, the persecuted. Jesus lifts up the lowly and proclaims that they are blessed.

What kind of blessings are these? Certainly not blessings as the world understands blessing. These are not things that the typical debater is going to use as evidence of blessing. But these are the way of Jesus. These are the blessings of the way of the cross. "Foolishness to those who are perishing, but to those who are being saved it is the power of God."

Winning is seductive. Success pulls at us constantly. Power is like the siren calling out to Odysseus. And yet, as Paul reminds us, winning, success, and power are nothing compared to God. The foolishness of God is greater than our wisdom; the weakness of God greater than our strength. Winning, success, and power are all useless in the light of the cross.

This argument is also an echo of Micah in our first reading trying to plead his case before the mountains. And yet, proclaim he must and proclaim we must, to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God.

What foolishness it is to do these three things in our world that seems to delight in injustice, to love meanness, and to run arrogantly from our God, run arrogantly as if we were God. All foolishness. But it is the foolish wisdom of God. And we have to keep proclaiming this foolish wisdom.

Keep proclaiming justice, kindness, and humility. Keep proclaiming the love taught in the words of the Beatitudes. Keep proclaiming the cross. These are the way of Jesus. Do not weary of this of this proclamation. Even as the world calls you foolish for prioritizing service over power, humility over arrogance, love over fear. Do not weary. For that power of God will carry you through to the end. Amen.

Salt and Light

In today’s gospel, we continue the story of Jesus teaching his disciples on the mountain. Jesus began his public ministry with the call to metanoia, a changing of heart, mind, and action. And he declared that God’s kingdom, (which remember for Jesus this kingdom is in contrast to the kingdoms of the world, whose ways of ruling emphasize power over others, in this kingdom that Jesus proclaims, governance is more equal, more relational, more connected, with everyone working together as kin, so Jesus’ kingdom is more of a kindom), and this kingdom slash kindom that he declared, was very near, and in fact, was being created in their midst through Jesus’ works of healing and love. And Jesus invited everyone to help create this kindom.

To read Ryan’s entire sermon, click “Read More.”

A Holy Earworm -- This Little Light of Mine

"Then your light shall break forth like the dawn."
"Then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like noonday."
"Light shines forth in the darkness for the upright."
"You are the light of the world... let your light shine before others."

 Do you know what an ear worm is? It's a song that you just can't get out of your head, no matter how hard you try. I have had an ear worm in my mind all week as I have been reflecting on these lessons and preparing this sermon.

 🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶     Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.     🎶

 Over and over and over again. I cannot get it out of my head.

 This trinity, trilogy, trifecta of seasons we are in - Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany - are all about light.

 In Advent, we prepared for the light to come. In Christmas, we welcomed and we celebrated the light born in the manger. In Epiphany, we have been seeing that light go out into the world. And throughout these three seasons of light, we have been hearing a lot from Isaiah as our first reading. Not every week, but the vast majority of them: 9 out of last 11 Sundays have included a reading from Isaiah! And we read from Isaiah, because Isaiah knew a lot about darkness and light. As we talked about back in December, so we won't go over all of it again, just a little refresher, Isaiah was writing in a time of great darkness. The people had been exiled from their homes. Everything they knew, everything they understood about the world, had been uprooted, and the people now suffered greatly under a ruler that they did not want. "By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept," the psalmist wrote at this time. This period of time was a time of great, deep darkness. And Isaiah in the midst came to bring hope from God, to bring light in the midst of the darkness.

 In Advent, we expectantly, hopefully heard those words from Isaiah of a future light: "In days to come the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; and all the nations shall stream to it... come, let us walk in the light of the Lord." In Christmas, we heard of that light now come: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light." Notice: have seen, not will see. "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness -- on them light has shined... For a child has been born for us, a son given for us." On Christmas, we now understand those words to be referring for us to the birth of the baby born in a manager, Jesus Christ, our Lord.

 This light we waited for in Advent arrived in Christmas, and in Epiphany, that light shined out into the world. "A light to the nations," we heard Isaiah say on both the First and Second Sundays of this season. A light to the nations, a light to the ends of the earth, a light for every dark nook and cranny of this world.

 In our reading from Isaiah today, though, we get a slightly different take on the light. It is not the light that God is shining that Isaiah speaks of today, at least not the light that God is shining directly, but our light. "Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... then your light shall rise in the darkness." And we hear Jesus echoing Isaiah's words in our Gospel reading today: "You are the light of the world... No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light all in the house, in the same way, let your light shine before others."

 Oh, that bushel. Here comes that ear worm again!

🎶        Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine     🎶

🎶        Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine     🎶

🎶        Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine     🎶

🎶     Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.      🎶

That light that we waited for in Advent, and celebrated in Christmas, and watched go forth in Epiphany is now our responsibility to shine.

 We who are the Body of Christ - by virtue of our baptism, we became a part of that body - are now tasked with shining forth the light of Christ. Let your light shine before others, Jesus says.

 🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶       Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.              🎶

 And how do we let our light shine? Isaiah tells us today. It is quite clear. "Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... If you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday."

 We let our light shine through our actions of justice, mercy, grace, truth, peace, and love. We let our light shine when we bring nourishment to places of hunger, and refreshment to places of thirst, and dignity to places of shame, and hope to places of despair. That will let our light shine.

We are trying to do that here as a community, as the people of St. Mary's, through our many ministries of feeding the hungry, and housing the homeless, and welcoming the refugee. We are letting our light shine before others.

 But it is also the task of each one of us as we go out into the world today and every day. In our schools, offices, and homes. To let our light shine in the work that we are doing, in the relationships in which we engage. It means that the doctor lets her light shine by offering dignity to her patients: a kind smile, an extra minute, a sense of compassion for the pain and struggle that the patient is encountering. It means that the teacher lets his light shine by offering respect to his students: remembering that he, too, was once in that seat. It means that the lawyer lets her light shine by caring for the downtrodden and seeking the truth. It means that the husband lets his light shine by loving his spouse and treating his spouse as an equal partner. It means that each and every one of us, in whatever place we find ourselves, begins to recognize the image of God found in those whom we encounter, and we start asking ourselves, how can I honor that image of God in that person? That will shine our light out into the world.

That's not the end of the song though, is it? It isn't just about shining our light, and keeping it out from under that bushel. There is that other verse:

 🎶        Ain't nobody gonna blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine          🎶

🎶        Ain't nobody gonna blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine          🎶

🎶        Ain't nobody gonna blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine          🎶

🎶 Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.  🎶

That is the hardest part, isn't it? In the midst of so much darkness in this world - and there is so much darkness out there - to not get discouraged and disappointed. To not let them blow out your light. When the forces of pain and evil get the upper hand for a while, when it seems like love is losing, it is easy to get discouraged and let that darkness overtake. It is hard to resist the darkness that wants to blow out our lights. And it is hard to resist the flip side: isolating ourselves to avoid the darkness, which in turn will just extinguish our light by suffocation as we hide our light under the bushel, preventing the light from getting needed oxygen.

And so, we have to keep letting this light shine. We have to muster the courage to keep going out into the darkness, and letting our light shine. We have to let our light break forth like the dawn, we have to let it rise in the darkness, and turn our darkest hours into noonday. We have to join Christ in taking this light to the darkest corners of our lives, to the darkest corners of this world. We have to let this song become not only an ear worm, which I hope it will be for you this week, but I hope it is more than that, I hope it is a daily call to engage in justice, peace, mercy, grace, truth, and love.

 That is our task. That is our work. To keep shining the light of Christ. And so, my sisters and brothers in Christ, why don't you join me? Pull out those lights ☝️and join me in singing this song. I know it is a bit silly, a bit childish, I know it is not the reserved Episcopal/Anglican thing to do, but be not afraid, be not ashamed: pull out those lights and let that light shine before others.

 🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶                    Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.                🎶

🎶        Hide it under a bushel? No! I'm gonna let it shine     🎶

🎶 🎶 🎶

 🎶        Ain't nobody gonna blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine          🎶

🎶 🎶 🎶

 🎶        This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine            🎶

🎶 🎶 🎶

 

 

Sermon for 5 Epiphany, Year A

February 5, 2017

Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 112:1-10

Matthew 5:13-20