Their Sunday in Lent
Commentary
Until I sat at the feet of Dr. Carl A. Anderson, my professor of Old Testament nearly forty years ago, I thought of the Ten Commandments exclusively in terms of demand and response. A rather fierce and stern God made the demand; a weak and stumbling believer was trying to do his best to respond. Anderson suggested that there was a better way to look at the Decalogue. He proposed that the text of Exodus 20 be understood, not as an imperative command, but as an indicative.
This shift from imperative to indicative makes all the difference in the world. Now the Ten Commandments come through as the words of one who sets free and then calls into a relationship of love, trust, and willing obedience. From this perspective, the initiative of God is the key to the Decalogue. The accent is first and foremost on the One who frees from slavery, whether it be Egypt, social ills, or personal bondage. We do not begin with the question, "What can I do to please God?" but, rather, "What has God done to set me free?"
The order -- first our relationship with God and then our relationship with neighbor -- is critical. "It is important to 'get it right' about Yahweh," writes Walter Bruggemann, "in order to 'get it right' about neighbor" ... "the way of attending to God determines our ways of attending to neighbor and vice versa. It is precisely the worship of ... God ... that provides the ... passionate imagination to reshape human relations in healing, liberating ways." (Walter Bruggemann, The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. I. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994, pp. 839, 840.)
As for the commandments themselves, some no doubt reflect codes of conduct common to other ancient peoples, especially those of more advanced civilizations. One might even make a case for the idea that these are a part of those laws which Paul says are "written on the heart" and that we are "without excuse" when we disobey them. The problem with making those suggestions, however, is that we edge away from the larger context of Exodus 20 where they are given as part of the revelation of a God who calls us to responsible living. For the Christian believer, the basis for moral living is in our relationship with Christ: "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Galatians 2:20).
1 Corinthians 1:18-25
"Hit a long ball" a friend suggested to me just before a recent service where I was the preacher for the day. His word of encouragement was appreciated. I could wish that every sermon of mine was a home run, or at least a double. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Most are singles at best -- and I can't count the number of times I've struck out.
I think Paul would understand. Judging from his letter to the Corinthian congregation we would have to believe that he had more than his share of times when he wondered why God had called him to be a preacher of the Gospel. As much as we admire Paul and marvel at the impact of his preaching, it is clear from the verses that precede and follow this section that Paul does not consider himself to be an erudite preacher. "Christ did not send me ... to proclaim the gospel ... with eloquent words of wisdom" (1:17). "I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words of wisdom" (2:1). Those verses are like bookends framing what Paul has to say in today's lesson. To those who had placed too high a value on wisdom, Paul speaks a plain word: It is not wisdom that saves; it is the power of the Gospel.
Wisdom can always seem to do better than a strange word about a cross and a resurrection. Why dwell on things that seem so odd and unbelievable -- that a single death can save all from sin and that the resurrection of One from the dead gives hope to all -- why dwell on that when we can speak so eloquently about right living, moral ideals, and ways to improve the world? Paul knows what we so easily forget: namely, that there is no lack of those who want to lay before us an ideal way to live. But Paul also knows what we should never forget: namely, that it is only the preaching of the foolishness of the cross that can finally set our hearers free from the shackles of sin and give them hope for this life and beyond this life. Those who "ask for signs" and "seek wisdom" (v. 23) are resisting the very thing that can set them free, and that is to trust God when there are no signs and when wisdom fails. Our inclination, as someone has said, is to want to "speculate our way up to God." The heart of the Gospel is that God has come down to us, right where we are and as we are. That is the folly of the Gospel. That is why we stumble over the cross. It gets in our way the moment we think there is some other way to come to God.
John 2:13-22
This text presents us with some questions that need not be a part of our sermon, but which the preacher should be aware of. John places this incident of the temple cleansing at the beginning of Jesus' ministry, in contrast to the Synoptics where it comes at the beginning of his final passion. Were there two cleansings? Or is John placing it here for some symbolic purpose? We note, for example, that there are several "transformation" stories in this part of John: Water to wine at Cana; the temple to the body of Christ in the temple cleansing; the flesh to the Spirit in the exchange with Nicodemus. In each of these accounts we see Jesus boldly breaking with established patterns of life among his people and preparing them for the new age that he ushers in with his coming.
We also ask why Jesus was so incensed with the sale of sacrificial animals and birds. Was he in fundamental opposition to the whole sacrificial system? Or was it simply a matter of being upset with the apparent abuse of the poor that was being carried out by those who changed Roman coinage into the Tyrian shekels or half-shekels that were required for the temple tax? In another place Jesus cites approvingly the word from Hosea that God desires "mercy and not sacrifice." In his exchange with the woman of Samaria in John 4 Jesus also speaks of a time when the sacrificial system would be supplanted by a community that will worship God "in spirit and truth" (John 4:23). Is he preparing them for that day -- from his perspective, that inevitable day -- when the temple will be destroyed and they will be able to sacrifice no more, to say nothing of buying and selling in the temple area?
In the exchange between Jesus and his opponents there is an interesting contrast between 46 years and three days. At that time a construction project as large as the temple would be seen as a project covering many decades. And given its massive dimensions, how could one conceive of its destruction? Jesus is able to see that the seeds of destruction, so apparent in the commercialization of the temple, were everywhere in the land and that they would have a sorry outcome.
John, of course, is writing with the advantage of the lens of history. By this time the temple is already in ruins. Judaism as it had been known in Jesus' time was in shambles. Now it is only those who heard his word of promise that the temple of his body would rise from the dead who can live on in hope.
Suggestions For Preaching
All of the lessons for this Sunday point to the importance of substance over style. In the season of Lent many try to take on personal disciplines which may be well and good in themselves but which become empty form when disconnected from the heart of the Gospel. The substance of the Ten Commandments is not in slavish attention to the law, but in a relationship with God that issues in grateful obedience to God. The substance of effective preaching is not in lofty words of wisdom, but in the faithful proclamation of the cross and the resurrection. The substance of the mission of Christ is not in the perpetuation of a system that kept believers in bondage, but in a word about resurrection to new life.
In the midst of the Season of Lent, even as we focus on the passion of Christ, we are never far from the "three days" and the promise of the resurrection. "His rule," writes Moltmann, "is his raising of the dead and consists in calling into being things that are not, and choosing things which are not, to bring to nothing things which are." (Jurgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, New York: Harper & Row, 1965, p. 221.) This is what Jesus promised. This is what Paul preached. This is the substance of what we have to say.
FIRST LESSON FOCUSBy James A. Nestingen
Exodus 20:1-17
For all the ways the Ten Commandments get packaged, their down-to-earth, bare-naked goodness still has a way of showing through. Then they make sense in the deepest way.
Exodus itself offers some dramatic wrapping: Moses on the mountaintop, face-to-face with God; the people below, alternately exhilarated and terrified; earthquakes, thunder and lightning. The event has all the earmarks of an epiphany.
Christians have had their own packages. The first major quarrel in the Church involved the law of Israel. According to Acts 15, the apostles agreed that the commandments had been suspended in Christ, that Christians henceforth simply needed to honor one another. But the decision of the first Jerusalem Council hasn't prevented later Christians from bringing the commandments back in other packing: as the original way of salvation, the basis for moral order, definitions of the new life or whatever. Then the commandments generally get lost in all the paper that covers them.
In fact, once out of the packages -- religious, theological, ethical, whatever -- when they are allowed to stand on their own, the commandments show a tender touch for the defining realities of life.
Just look at the first four of them, as the commandments are biblically numbered. Each deals with a basic dimension of living in relationship with God. God forbids other gods because God alone bestows life; false gods are death dealing. Graven images substitute abstractions for the reality of God -- a danger Catholics and Lutherans can recognize even if they disagree with Protestants about preserving this commandment for the church. God's name gives access to God, a basic reason for using it properly. When a person knows what God does, it is possible to take a day off, a real sabbath rest.
Similarly, each of the commandments of the second table protects some essential dimension of life. In parental relationships, the basic trust necessary to healthy living is formed. The prohibition of killing extends God's protection over us as we go out the door, into the neighborhood. Enjoining adultery protects sexuality, freeing for the deep self-giving of love by protecting against sexual predation.
So, too, the remaining commandments of the second table extend God's protection to the things necessary to life: some property, however minimal; truthfulness and a good name; the confidence necessary to living in a community.
Packaging aside, standing bare, the commandments rib life to the center, to God and the neighbor. Only Christ Jesus, encompassing both, could be more basic.
This shift from imperative to indicative makes all the difference in the world. Now the Ten Commandments come through as the words of one who sets free and then calls into a relationship of love, trust, and willing obedience. From this perspective, the initiative of God is the key to the Decalogue. The accent is first and foremost on the One who frees from slavery, whether it be Egypt, social ills, or personal bondage. We do not begin with the question, "What can I do to please God?" but, rather, "What has God done to set me free?"
The order -- first our relationship with God and then our relationship with neighbor -- is critical. "It is important to 'get it right' about Yahweh," writes Walter Bruggemann, "in order to 'get it right' about neighbor" ... "the way of attending to God determines our ways of attending to neighbor and vice versa. It is precisely the worship of ... God ... that provides the ... passionate imagination to reshape human relations in healing, liberating ways." (Walter Bruggemann, The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. I. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994, pp. 839, 840.)
As for the commandments themselves, some no doubt reflect codes of conduct common to other ancient peoples, especially those of more advanced civilizations. One might even make a case for the idea that these are a part of those laws which Paul says are "written on the heart" and that we are "without excuse" when we disobey them. The problem with making those suggestions, however, is that we edge away from the larger context of Exodus 20 where they are given as part of the revelation of a God who calls us to responsible living. For the Christian believer, the basis for moral living is in our relationship with Christ: "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Galatians 2:20).
1 Corinthians 1:18-25
"Hit a long ball" a friend suggested to me just before a recent service where I was the preacher for the day. His word of encouragement was appreciated. I could wish that every sermon of mine was a home run, or at least a double. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Most are singles at best -- and I can't count the number of times I've struck out.
I think Paul would understand. Judging from his letter to the Corinthian congregation we would have to believe that he had more than his share of times when he wondered why God had called him to be a preacher of the Gospel. As much as we admire Paul and marvel at the impact of his preaching, it is clear from the verses that precede and follow this section that Paul does not consider himself to be an erudite preacher. "Christ did not send me ... to proclaim the gospel ... with eloquent words of wisdom" (1:17). "I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words of wisdom" (2:1). Those verses are like bookends framing what Paul has to say in today's lesson. To those who had placed too high a value on wisdom, Paul speaks a plain word: It is not wisdom that saves; it is the power of the Gospel.
Wisdom can always seem to do better than a strange word about a cross and a resurrection. Why dwell on things that seem so odd and unbelievable -- that a single death can save all from sin and that the resurrection of One from the dead gives hope to all -- why dwell on that when we can speak so eloquently about right living, moral ideals, and ways to improve the world? Paul knows what we so easily forget: namely, that there is no lack of those who want to lay before us an ideal way to live. But Paul also knows what we should never forget: namely, that it is only the preaching of the foolishness of the cross that can finally set our hearers free from the shackles of sin and give them hope for this life and beyond this life. Those who "ask for signs" and "seek wisdom" (v. 23) are resisting the very thing that can set them free, and that is to trust God when there are no signs and when wisdom fails. Our inclination, as someone has said, is to want to "speculate our way up to God." The heart of the Gospel is that God has come down to us, right where we are and as we are. That is the folly of the Gospel. That is why we stumble over the cross. It gets in our way the moment we think there is some other way to come to God.
John 2:13-22
This text presents us with some questions that need not be a part of our sermon, but which the preacher should be aware of. John places this incident of the temple cleansing at the beginning of Jesus' ministry, in contrast to the Synoptics where it comes at the beginning of his final passion. Were there two cleansings? Or is John placing it here for some symbolic purpose? We note, for example, that there are several "transformation" stories in this part of John: Water to wine at Cana; the temple to the body of Christ in the temple cleansing; the flesh to the Spirit in the exchange with Nicodemus. In each of these accounts we see Jesus boldly breaking with established patterns of life among his people and preparing them for the new age that he ushers in with his coming.
We also ask why Jesus was so incensed with the sale of sacrificial animals and birds. Was he in fundamental opposition to the whole sacrificial system? Or was it simply a matter of being upset with the apparent abuse of the poor that was being carried out by those who changed Roman coinage into the Tyrian shekels or half-shekels that were required for the temple tax? In another place Jesus cites approvingly the word from Hosea that God desires "mercy and not sacrifice." In his exchange with the woman of Samaria in John 4 Jesus also speaks of a time when the sacrificial system would be supplanted by a community that will worship God "in spirit and truth" (John 4:23). Is he preparing them for that day -- from his perspective, that inevitable day -- when the temple will be destroyed and they will be able to sacrifice no more, to say nothing of buying and selling in the temple area?
In the exchange between Jesus and his opponents there is an interesting contrast between 46 years and three days. At that time a construction project as large as the temple would be seen as a project covering many decades. And given its massive dimensions, how could one conceive of its destruction? Jesus is able to see that the seeds of destruction, so apparent in the commercialization of the temple, were everywhere in the land and that they would have a sorry outcome.
John, of course, is writing with the advantage of the lens of history. By this time the temple is already in ruins. Judaism as it had been known in Jesus' time was in shambles. Now it is only those who heard his word of promise that the temple of his body would rise from the dead who can live on in hope.
Suggestions For Preaching
All of the lessons for this Sunday point to the importance of substance over style. In the season of Lent many try to take on personal disciplines which may be well and good in themselves but which become empty form when disconnected from the heart of the Gospel. The substance of the Ten Commandments is not in slavish attention to the law, but in a relationship with God that issues in grateful obedience to God. The substance of effective preaching is not in lofty words of wisdom, but in the faithful proclamation of the cross and the resurrection. The substance of the mission of Christ is not in the perpetuation of a system that kept believers in bondage, but in a word about resurrection to new life.
In the midst of the Season of Lent, even as we focus on the passion of Christ, we are never far from the "three days" and the promise of the resurrection. "His rule," writes Moltmann, "is his raising of the dead and consists in calling into being things that are not, and choosing things which are not, to bring to nothing things which are." (Jurgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, New York: Harper & Row, 1965, p. 221.) This is what Jesus promised. This is what Paul preached. This is the substance of what we have to say.
FIRST LESSON FOCUSBy James A. Nestingen
Exodus 20:1-17
For all the ways the Ten Commandments get packaged, their down-to-earth, bare-naked goodness still has a way of showing through. Then they make sense in the deepest way.
Exodus itself offers some dramatic wrapping: Moses on the mountaintop, face-to-face with God; the people below, alternately exhilarated and terrified; earthquakes, thunder and lightning. The event has all the earmarks of an epiphany.
Christians have had their own packages. The first major quarrel in the Church involved the law of Israel. According to Acts 15, the apostles agreed that the commandments had been suspended in Christ, that Christians henceforth simply needed to honor one another. But the decision of the first Jerusalem Council hasn't prevented later Christians from bringing the commandments back in other packing: as the original way of salvation, the basis for moral order, definitions of the new life or whatever. Then the commandments generally get lost in all the paper that covers them.
In fact, once out of the packages -- religious, theological, ethical, whatever -- when they are allowed to stand on their own, the commandments show a tender touch for the defining realities of life.
Just look at the first four of them, as the commandments are biblically numbered. Each deals with a basic dimension of living in relationship with God. God forbids other gods because God alone bestows life; false gods are death dealing. Graven images substitute abstractions for the reality of God -- a danger Catholics and Lutherans can recognize even if they disagree with Protestants about preserving this commandment for the church. God's name gives access to God, a basic reason for using it properly. When a person knows what God does, it is possible to take a day off, a real sabbath rest.
Similarly, each of the commandments of the second table protects some essential dimension of life. In parental relationships, the basic trust necessary to healthy living is formed. The prohibition of killing extends God's protection over us as we go out the door, into the neighborhood. Enjoining adultery protects sexuality, freeing for the deep self-giving of love by protecting against sexual predation.
So, too, the remaining commandments of the second table extend God's protection to the things necessary to life: some property, however minimal; truthfulness and a good name; the confidence necessary to living in a community.
Packaging aside, standing bare, the commandments rib life to the center, to God and the neighbor. Only Christ Jesus, encompassing both, could be more basic.
