Showing posts with label the apostle Paul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the apostle Paul. Show all posts

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Love Builds Up - A Sermon for the 4th Sunday after the Epiphany 1-29-2012

A Sermon for the 4th Sunday after the Epiphany (RCL B) 1-29-2012
Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Deuteronomy 18:15-20; Psalm 111; 1 Corinthians 8:1-13; Mark 1:21-28
Themes:         perception, responsibility for others, social stigma
Title:               Love Builds Up

“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge, but anyone who loves God is known by him” (1 Corin. 8:1b-2).

And so, my sisters and brothers, we are introduced this morning to the apostle Paul’s long and intricate discussion concerning the eating of food sacrificed to idols. This conversation spans all of the next three chapters in this letter.

And so we may be justified as we wonder: Why so much time and attention given to this topic? Clearly, eating food sacrificed to idols was a major part of the social fabric in Greek cities, and the new Christians there were struggling to know how to handle this. Some thought it right to eat; others felt it was wrong, and the apostle – as usual – needed to have his say.

Thankfully, this is not an important topic of consideration for us today, but the contours of this discussion are important, and what matters most for us today is this one over-arching principle that guided the apostle’s thought: because of love, we have a responsibility to build up those around us.

What this means for each one of us who calls ourselves by the name of Christian is that we must give careful thought to how our example is perceived by those around us.

“Therefore,” Paul wrote, “if food is a cause of [my brother’s or sister’s] falling, I will never eat meat, so that I may not cause one of them to fall” (1 Corin. 8:13).

Now, let’s be very clear about one thing: there is a WORLD of difference between this concern for how one is perceived which grows out of true love and care, and that concern for how one is perceived which grows out of fear and anxiety.

Our politicians are masters of this second type of concern, aren’t they? Political leaders and those with power consider how they are perceived by others because of their selfish concern – because of their intense need to be praised and honored and respected by others. How will it reflect on them? How will others think and feel about them? This seems particularly to be true today when the matter being discussed is faith and God.

As a leader in the church, I hear our politicians give thanks to God or ask for God’s blessing, and one side of me thinks, “This is a good thing. After all, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”

But then the smarter side of me speaks up and says, “You know that they are only saying this to win votes, right? Their image handlers have told them exactly what to say to garner support for their campaign.”  

Now, we know that this kind of perception awareness is spiritually destructive. At its core, sin is self-centeredness: placing ourselves at the center of all things, keeping ourselves at the center of our thoughts, making the protection of ourselves the goal of all our actions.

But to be liberated from sin then means precisely the opposite: because we are cared for and loved and nurtured forever by the strong hand of God, we are free to forget about ourselves. We are free then to focus upon the other.

When we live set free by the love of God, then we consider how we are perceived out of love and respect for the other. Does my example benefit the other in any way? How will others be strengthened and encouraged by my actions?

St. Augustine had this to say about our responsibility to care for one another:

“It is the very law of Christ that we bear one another’s burdens. Moreover, by loving Christ we easily bear the weakness of another, even him whom we do not yet love for the sake of his own good qualities, for we realize that the one whom we love is someone for whom the Lord has died” (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: 1-2 Corinthians, P. 77).

If we are willing to take our responsibility seriously, then this way of consciousness applies to every single aspect of life. It applies to what kind of house I live in, what foods I eat, to how I drive my car.

It applies to the way in which I conduct my daily business, to how fully I recycle and how I conserve our natural resources. It applies to how I dress, and to how I speak about others. It applies to how I spend my free time on Friday and Saturday nights, and to how I act when I’m down the shore in the summertime.

Whatever the circumstance, and whatever the action, this love-centered consciousness means that I am always asking myself the question: does my action right now help those around me to lead a fuller, healthier, more abundant life, or does it hinder? Does my example build them up and strengthen them?  Does it lead those around me toward deeper trust in the goodness of God?

It is not always easy to have this awareness. What many among us want is a new law, a new book of guidelines which tells us what to do. As a Christian, “You can do this, but not that. You can say this, but not that. You can read this, but not that.”

That would be much easier, but God never provides that kind of law, because what God is after is the creation of a community of people who live every moment with this deeper love-centered consciousness, an awareness of the needs of those around us.

Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I am not suggesting that we must adopt the kind of attitude which believes, in regards to anything that might seem unbecoming, that prudish abstinence is the only sure path to follow. Not at all.

On Friday night, Erin and I had the opportunity to attend the 53rd Annual Bishop’s Ball at the Cathedral in Trenton. We were there as chaperones for our daughter, Se’, some of her friends and a group of teenagers from Trinity Church in Moorestown.

I had some uncertainty beforehand about what I should wear. This was a Diocesan Youth Ministry dance with the Bishop at the Cathedral, after all. So perhaps I ought to wear my clerical collar, I thought, to show the Bishop that I’m a serious priest who is dedicated to our youth ministry.

But then my better sense got a hold of me. Erin and I were going to dance and to eat some food and hang out with teenagers. A button down shirt and some khakis would do just fine.

Of course, there were a number of other clergy present in their suits and collars, even though Bishop George himself was not in uniform. (That made me feel a bit better, you know!). And, of course, it was those clergy in their collars who never touched the dance floor! No way! They just sat around the periphery of the room and watched!

How boring! Erin and I were the only adults who were out on the floor dancing the whole time!

And I have to say, as I looked around the room and observed the setting, I wondered: what kind of witness did these very proper priests give to the teenagers dancing at that ball?

How did these young people perceive these leaders? Do you honestly think that any of those teenagers looked around at their clergy elders sitting along the periphery of the room with their arms crossed, silently watching, and thought, “Man, I hope that I can be one of them some day!” 

I don’t think so! And do we wonder why so few of our young people imagine a future life for themselves in the ordained leadership of the church?

When our Lord Jesus walked through Galilee preaching and teaching and healing, Mark’s Gospel says that “his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region” (Mark 1:28). People could see in his actions, in his words, in his manner of life, a hope for a better future, a better life if lived in relationship with him.  

My sisters and brothers: let us be awake, let us be aware that people see us and watch us, and let us know that our actions, our words, our manner of life has an influence on them, perhaps for better or for worse.

Not being anxious to protect our honor or our reputation or our social standing, but being eager to provide an influence for good in everything that we do.

And so, let us practice love, the kind of love that seeks to build up each other, to lift one another to a more fruitful, more faithful, more abundant life in Christ. May it always be so among us. Amen.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Nothing Without Your Consent

Sermon for Proper 18 C RCL (9/5/2010), Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Jeremiah 18:1-11; Psalm 139:1-5, 13-17; Philemon 1-21; Luke 14:25-33


My sisters and brothers: we have the great privilege this morning of hearing and meditating upon this tiny little letter from Saints Paul and Timothy to Philemon and Apphia. Only 25 verses long, 335 Greek words in total, in most Bibles it occupies only a single page. And yet, what a page it is! How remarkable it is that we can find so many crucial insights into the practical meaning of the Gospel for our everyday lives here in this brief letter.

This is one of the undisputed letters by Paul. And the purpose of the letter is very clear and precise: Paul is asking Philemon to forgive his runaway slave named Onesimus and to free him. Of course the obvious question is: what is the slave’s offence? And why is Paul involved in this domestic dispute?

While we are not told exactly what happened, by inference we can piece together this backstory. As we see in the greeting, there was a church meeting in the home of Philemon and Apphia. It seems that Paul is likely to have founded this church and he may have been a frequent visitor to that congregation. Onesimus, who must have met and heard Paul in his preaching, ran away for reasons unknown, and eventually encountered Paul again in the city where Paul was being held as prisoner, most likely to be Rome. When they met and talked in the city, Onesimus professed his faith in Jesus Christ and became a regular helper for Paul. And as Paul mentored and discipled him, surely they discussed the reality that Onesimus would soon have to return to Philemon to make things right. Can you imagine the young man’s anxiety and trepidation at this prospect? But the apostle does not send him back defenseless. Rather, Onesimus returns home with this powerful and persuasive little letter in hand as his one hope to avert the severe punishment due a runaway slave under the law.

How does he do it? How does Paul approach this task of persuasion?

First of all, observe how he opens his appeal. This is the only place where Paul first identifies himself as a “prisoner of Christ Jesus”. What a small descriptive title, but what radical importance lies behind it! Do you see how the apostles were willing and able to take pride in their imprisonments and their suffering for the sake of the Gospel? Sure, Philemon is a man of wealth and influence, with a large home and slaves to manage it for him. But who is the one worthy of the most honor and respect among the believers? Not the man of wealth and privilege, but rather the poor prisoner who is willing to do what Christ spoke of in the Gospel: to “carry the cross” and follow him at all costs.

It may sound obvious to us who gather here regularly, but in fact it is a peculiar and remarkable aspect of the church that sets us apart from the world around us. You see, it is not normal, nor to be expected in any way, that we would celebrate those who are apparent failures as though they are true victors and heroes! God teaches us that it is not success that is worthy of our honor and respect, but rather commitment and devotion.

After his greetings, Paul launches directly into his appeal on behalf of Onesimus. To use a colloquial phrase, the first thing that Paul does is to “butter him up”. Just look at how generous he is with his praise of Philemon! “The hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother” (Philemon 7b).

There is wisdom here. Have you not seen in your own experience how such giving of compliments and praise opens up a door so that a difficult request can be received more positively? My wife, Erin, always tells me that my life would be much better if I could just get into the habit of giving her at least two genuine compliments every day. “Is it that hard,” she asks, “to find two simple compliments for me?” Well… actually it is! Just because my brain doesn’t work that way. But I know for a fact that “it is meet and right so to do”. Genuine praise, recognition and compliments help to open doors to improve the quality of our relationships.

After the compliments, Paul moves right into the meat of the matter. But notice here, please, how the apostle makes his request. What we see highlighted here in this request is the voluntary principle which lies squarely at the heart of the teaching of Jesus.

As St. Clement of Alexandria stated so well, “Compulsion is repugnant to God.” Rather than compulsion of any sort, within the kingdom of God everything depends upon voluntary assent, even though God has the knowledge and power and ability to coerce certain actions from us. And even though St. Paul has the consensual authority of the church to demand certain actions (“to command you to do your duty”, as he puts it), yet he prefers to lay this aside in order to ask, to seek and to knock.

Out of deference to Christ, the apostle prefers to make a humble request on the basis of mutual love and concern, “in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced” (Philemon 14). Everything within the realm of the spirit relies upon this voluntary principle. We cannot over-emphasize this fact.

But, wait! There is still more in this little letter. Paul urges Philemon to “welcome him (Onesimus) as you would welcome me” (Philemon 17b). There is a deep message here.

In many places throughout the New Testament Epistles, we can find passages which speak of the proper behavior of Christians relative to their place in society: husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and slaves. But here in this letter, we are given a glimpse of something entirely different. Here we can see clearly that the apostle Paul was unwilling to simply validate the typical roles of Roman society as he found them.

As the slave master, Philemon had rights under Roman law over Onesimus, the runaway slave. However, under the law of Christ, within the realm of God, Onesimus is now a child of the apostle and so has become a beloved brother to Philemon in the Lord.

Here is the revolutionary message of the Gospel made real in practical life! These family relations in the church trump any of the expected roles of human-made society! Within the church, all are brothers and sisters, equal under the Gospel.

Without declaring it directly, the apostle in essence is saying, “Forget about slavery! Forget about who possesses what, who owns whom! Forget about your rights under the law or your petty grievances! Forget about all of that stuff that belongs to the old way of life, and begin to embrace this new way! Start to practice forgiveness, reconciliation, and true brotherhood and sisterhood in the kingdom of God!”

Without stating it directly, the apostle lays the groundwork right here for dismantling the entire institution of slavery. To do that work was not his calling. After all, historians estimate that nearly one-third of the entire population of the Roman Empire lived in some form of slavery. To tackle that social structure was not his task. But it was his task – and it is ours as well – to call people to a new kind of life in Jesus Christ, one where all known social boundaries are irrelevant.

It didn’t take the Church too long to figure this out. By the fourth century, the great St. John Chrysostom, then the Bishop of Constantinople, the second-highest ranking bishop at the time, could stand in his pulpit and preach these words: “Slavery is an abomination. It is quite wrong that one person should buy another, and that such a purchase has the protection of the law. A person does not even possess his own life; so how can he possess another person’s life?” (On Living Simply: The Golden Voice of John Chrysostom, p.26).

Of course, Chrysostom was sent into exile by the Emperor for his insolence. St. Paul was imprisoned and killed for his preaching. But the seeds were already sown, and by the grace of God we continue to harvest the fruit of their faithful labors.

Thanks be to God for the wisdom and remarkable vision of the apostle Paul, who can still teach us so much from a brief little letter written so long ago on behalf of a runaway slave named Onesimus. Amen.