Re-Conciliation -- Sermon for Christ Lutheran Church Romans 5:6-11

So this scene -- If you haven’t seen the movie “Goonies,” I guess it doesn’t make much sense.  But if you HAVE seen the movie Goonies – well, let’s be real, it might not make very much sense either…

Chunk and Sloth… best names ever… they’re just so different.  I mean, so much so that it doesn’t really need to be said, right?  Sweet white kid from the suburbs – poked fun of because he has had too much food available in his life… Versus man born with extreme birth defects into an evil family who has kept him chained up and starving…

When they first meet, Chunk is terrified, of course – at the end of the movie, Chunk vows to bring him into his family. 

Even in a story, how can people this different be reconciled together into family?

So Chunk and Sloth are so different that reconciliation together seems impossible – but they are both human beings.  How different, then, is God from us?  We are created in their image – but we are definitely not God!  The distance is probably even beyond our comprehension. 

And we humans – well, sometimes we are not very good at “different.”  Not good at it, but oh how we LOVE different --  We embrace it with outright glee sometimes. 

Giants fans versus – well, everyone else…

Country music versus pop fans… Team Edward vs Team Jacob… Coke versus Pepsi…

And one of my personal favorites – Chicago Theological Seminary vs, say… Luther….

Some of these are fun, no doubt.  But what about when they’re just not?

What about “conservatives” and “liberals?”  CNN vs Fox?  Light skinned versus dark skinned?  Latino immigrant vs European immigrant?  Sleeping on a bed vs sleeping on the street?  Sick or healthy?  College educated versus trade school educated?  Poor vs Rich?  My family…. vs your family?

Yeah.  We love differences.

Sometimes that enjoyment is surface and all in good fun – And sometimes we embrace it as our very core, as our birthright – this is ME and MINE – and that is THEM. 

But God – God does something else.  RADICAL, even. 

He sees our incredibly other-ness and loves that other-ness.  And not only this, but Paul writes that he reconciled with us while we were GOD’S ENEMIES. 

Enemies.  An enemy actively works against another person. 

Yet it is when we, you and I, are actively working against God’s purposes that Jesus loves us and dies for us.  Jesus refuses to enter into the “US vs THEM.”  Jesus says “WE” and then proves his commitment to that “we” through his death.  

And maybe that should have been the end of it, right?   It is shocking, radical – I mean, really – it’s straight up nuts –

Jesus walked into rival gang territory and said “no more division” – all the while completely knowing that he was going to be killed on sight. 

That sounds pretty futile.  Was it a useless gesture?  Jesus laying his life down for God’s enemies?

It may be obvious by the fact that I’m standing up here that MY answer to that is a hard “no” – and with Paul I’m also very willing to argue that that isn’t the end of the conversation.  In fact, Paul goes on to say that we are reconciled by Jesus death – and that we are saved by his life.

Now if you’d like to have a conversation about all the cool twisty and turny ways of thinking about that statement, I am definitely your girl and I will meet you in my Starbucks office any time…

But, as much as I would love that as conversational fun, I think the real point is a lot simpler.  I think the point is that God is at peace with us – but Jesus give us clues during his life of how to live into that peace and fulfill God’s vision of what that looks like.

  And Jesus tells us a lot of ways to do that, but there is one way that he says is the very first, and that no way is greater – “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

We can hear this in a lot of ways – and those ways are influenced by where we were born and where we live – independent individualism is highly valued in our culture—and this passage can trip people up because of that.  In fact, I heard in a group this week, “some days I hate myself, why would God want me to think of others like that?” 

But I would suggest that this is not the way we should look at this statement.  Jesus wasn’t speaking to a person with our individualism values – in fact, he was quoting a much more ancient text – Leviticus.  And Leviticus 19:18 in the Hebrew reads “Do not bear grudges against other tribes but love your neighbors as if they are yourselves.”

Not singular.  Plural.  Love your neighbor as yourselves.  Love people of a neighboring tribe as if they are YOUR tribe. 

Love the people next door as if they are the people living in your house. 

Wait – what?  Who says I have to be responsible for my next door neighbors like I am for my family?  I mean, one side is easy – it’s the Walthers, and they ARE part of my church family – but the other side?  Who are they?  I mean, they’re not unfriendly – but they are NOT family. 

But Jesus says love the people that are not family as if they are your family.  Care for the people outside your tribe as you do the people inside your tribe. 

If you’re a Giants fan – love the non-Giants fans as if they are.

Love the Buddhists as if they are Lutherans.

Love the Colombian or Syrian as if they are Americans.

This is the first, foremost, greatest commandment, according to Jesus Christ.

I would say – and maybe this is too bold, but it is my perception—that right now our culture is experiencing a descent into protective tribalism.  Divisions – angry divisions – seem to characterize our discourse.

I am not talking about disagreements.  Or even criticism.  Healthy disagreements and vigorous conversations about them is one way we progress as individual people and as a culture.

But that’s not what I’m seeing.  I’m seeing that we are in a hamster wheel of vilifying those who disagree – simply deciding that those who hold different views on politics or religious or social issues are evil and maybe not even as human as we are. 

That is creating an oversimplified us and them.  We are dividing along tribal lines and losing a sense of unity and community.  It’s true that God doesn’t tell us not to have tribes – as I said earlier, I think God knows how much we love them – but we are not treating other tribes the way God commands us. 

In fact, it seems more to be the case right now that if you are not part of my tribe, I am free to treat you with disrespect, or with violence, or as less than human – using dehumanizing language in public spaces such as “illegals,” or “deplorables,” – “Drumpsters,” – “Libtards” – This is not healthy disagreement or productive criticism.  This is separating my tribe of human beings from your tribe – not human beings. 

God knows that this is in us.  But the first commandment – and Jesus never says this about anything else – the first, he says, and none is greater – the commandment that should be the very top of our list – before pray, before confess, before show up at church, before “do this in remembrance of me..” –

First, the Lord your God commands you – love the other tribe as if it is your tribe. 

Easy words – extremely difficult actions, right?  I mean, I dare you – next time you’re at Rawhide, sit with all your local fan friends and cheer super loud for the opposing team.  That’s going to be really fun, right?  And when it’s something that you feel is deeply important for the future of your country, or your church, or your children – well, it gets exponentially harder. 

But the good news is that Jesus doesn’t command us to monitor other people’s actions or obey this commandment for anyone but ourselves.  He commands us to do it.  And there are small changes even in our hearts and thought patterns that obey this commandment.  We are given opportunities in which we are confronted with other tribes constantly.  How will we respond? 

David Frederickson, who is one of my favorite professors at Luther, said something during my summer class that I haven’t been able to shake in the six weeks since I was there – he said, “If you want to experience God in your life, find the radically excluded and stick to them like barnacles.  That’s where you will find God.”

“If you want to experience God in your life, find the radically excluded and stick to them like barnacles – that’s where you will find God.”

I think he’s right.  I think Jesus is telling us this when he tells us to seek out and love those who are outside our tribe.  He echoes it when he tells us that when we feed the hungry or clothe the naked or visit the sick that we are doing all those things TO HIM – when we treat those outside our family like they are our family we will find God. 

And we want that, right?  How many of us have struggled with times when God has seemed distant?  How many of us long for closeness with Jesus Christ?  And here, right here, he gives us a road map with a big giant X on the treasure.  Find the excluded, the ones outside your tribe – love them and you will find God.  A promise with no conditions on it.  “Here I am,” says Christ.  Come and love me.

Reconciliation.  Reuniting, bringing together; fence-mending; understanding, peace, concord.

God loves us as if we are family.  God commands us to love others as if they are family. 

And with that command comes a promise that when we do, we will find and experience God. 

May that experience be the deepest desire of our hearts.  Amen

 

Paradox -- 2 Corinthians 12: 2-10 -- Portions of sermon for St. James Lutheran

2 I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows. 3 And I know that such a person—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows— 4 was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat. 5 On behalf of such a one I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. 6 But if I wish to boast, I will not be a fool, for I will be speaking the truth. But I refrain from it, so that no one may think better of me than what is seen in me or heard from me, 7 even considering the exceptional character of the revelations. Therefore, to keep[a] me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated.[b] 8 Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, 9 but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power[c] is made perfect in weakness.” So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. 10 Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.

(2 Corinthians 12:2-10)

Something weird about me and certainly a few other people in this world is that I enjoy paradox.  Those things that may seem logical but lead to an impossible conclusion – or situations that combine things that contradict each other and themselves – they make my brain hurt, and it feels so good when it does – and even that is a paradox!!!
Have you heard the one about the impossibility of motion?  That to get somewhere you must always go halfway, and then halfway again and again and again – therefore never actually reaching your destination?

Or the question – if a person says “I always lie” is that statement true or false?  Heh yeah, just think about that one for a moment!   Doesn’t it hurt so good?

But my very favorite paradox is right in this passage from 2 Corinthians...We usually remember Paul’s conversion story as told by the author of Luke-Acts – riding the horse, bright light, voice of Jesus, blindness – but here in Second Corinthians is Paul telling us his version.  He was caught up – and he tells us two times that he doesn’t know if he was in the body or out of the body as a vision – into the third heaven, into paradise.

And there he heard wordless words – some translations say “inexpressible” or “unspeakable,” but the Greek has “word” in both – wordless words – now THAT’s a paradox to make my heart go pitter pat, but it gets even better!!  The next thing he says is that these wordless words are not permitted for people to speak – and then he spends the rest of his life trying to communicate them.  Epic paradox, even if we don’t go on to power found in weakness and the rest of this incredible passage.

I think the reason that I love this particular paradox so much is because I think that it encapsulates all of what ministry is – trying to communicate these wordless words that can’t be spoken – because they hold a message of life and joy and salvation.  These wordless words tell us about God, about us, about the mysteries of life and death – and I would say that there is no way to adequately communicate these ideas.  So instead, pastors take snapshots.  Try to communicate a tiny piece – in a sermon, a prayer, a hospital visit, in communion, in an encouraging word.  We hold this incredible infinite jewel and try to communicate one tiny facet at a time that points to the whole.  It’s impossible.  It’s a paradox, trying to communicate something infinite and unspeakable in finite moments and in words.

Paul was comfortable with paradox.  Wordless words, communicating the unspeakable, power in weakness – and I think Paul’s paradoxes were beyond the human mind but solvable not because of who he was but whose he was.

The thing about pastors, ministry, and churches, is that the “who” changes an awful lot.  But what never changes is the “whose.”  We are in a state of constant transition with infinite stability.  And that stability is provided not by us or anything we do, but by God.  The church is not defined by who is in it but by whose they are.
  But even in that there is an incredible, glorious paradox – you see, the church may not be defined by you and me and our pastors or our neighbors in the pews – but what we do is incredibly important.  It is desperately important for us and for the world that we are here.  It means something.
Yes, in a hundred years, there is almost a 100% guarantee that none of us in this room will still be living this life – but the church will still be, and what WE do makes a difference.  What we do today in this church makes a difference in how the love of God is communicated to future generations.  What we do makes a difference in how the church is perceived and received in the world.

What we do as people of God matters.  Sometimes in small ways as we encourage people, but sometimes in huge ways that we don’t even realize make an impact.

One of the things that I do at Christ Lutheran is lead what I call “Reconciliation Groups” – they are basically small discussion groups for CLC host members and members of our community who are gay or transgender who have been hurt by the church at large.  They have stories to tell, we have a willingness to ask for forgiveness on behalf of the Christian church.  It’s powerful, it’s healing.

One of the things that has been most difficult for me in leading these groups is hearing stories of abuse to young people that are attached to “I’m doing this because God loves you and doesn’t want you to go to hell.”  This abuse ranges from psychological and isolation to beatings to systematic sexual abuse to show people that “they aren’t gay.”  I have to be honest, I was naïve.  I had no idea when I started this ministry what would come up.  That stuff, if I even conceived it, was “out there” somewhere, and not in my community.  Not sitting with me and my church family trying to figure out how God’s love is present in all of this awfulness.

But I told you all of that to tell you THIS.  Every one of the abuse and trauma survivors say that they are on a journey to becoming healthy and whole people because someone intervened along the way.  And the ways of intervention can be seemingly microscopic.  Someone who asked if they were having a bad day, whether or not they answered honestly.  Someone who told them, even in a small way, that they had worth, that they deserved love, or that they were loved.  Someone who believed them when they tried to tell them what was happening, even if that person was powerless to stop it.

Every single one of these individuals has a story of a small way in which their story was re-written by another person.  They say that those small moments are what prevented them from staying in the pattern and becoming abusers themselves.  The people who gave them those moments usually have no idea.  But the ripples of healing and are incredible.  Not only for these people but in those they interact with, their families, and the pathway into breaking the cycle of abuse.

Whose we are and how we behave, what we do because of that has an eternal impact.  It is another paradox.  The church may not be defined by the individuals within it but when those individuals act upon their identity as followers in Jesus Christ they then define what the church will be for future generations.

Whose we are matters.  Whose we are means that we can bring love to individuals and to our community.  Whose we are means that at all times we are part of a bigger picture, an epic story, and an eternal plan.  Whose we are never changes though all around us might.

So I encourage you to enjoy times of transition.  Enjoy your stability in all the changes.  Enjoy the paradox!  For the rest, my friends, rejoice, be restored, be encouraged, have purpose together and be at peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.  Amen.