Fools for Christ or just plain fools?
Commentary
Object:
In 1993 brothers Tom and David Gardner began a financial information service they named The Motley Fool. Dressed in their trademark court jester hats, the motley fools can be seen and heard offering their advice and warnings concerning the stock market on a variety of talk shows and financial news channels. According to their official website, their name "derives from Elizabethan drama where only the court jester (the 'fool') could tell the king the truth without getting his head lopped off." In offering their advice, Tom and David promise not to lie, but they do "reserve the right to be wrong, stupid, or even foolish."
Tom and David Gardner seem to be willing to take a chance few believers are willing to take -- the risk of appearing foolish. There are other attributes that rate higher for believers in their public personae -- attributes like acceptability, reasonableness, caution, conformity. The problem is that these attributes often do not mesh well with living out a biblical faith. The ethic that Jesus calls his followers to is one that demands risk-taking -- actions that may seem to others to be unreasonable, wrong, stupid, or even foolish.
What we fail to realize is the impossibility of avoiding the fool label. By being obedient to the gospel's demands, one runs the risk of being a fool for Christ. By ignoring the gospel's demands, one runs the risk of being just a plain fool.
Micah 6:1-8
There is an old saying, which may have fallen into disuse, that goes, "I've got a bone to pick with you." I don't know its derivation, but it means that you have done something that has offended me and we've got to talk about it. In this passage God is saying to Israel, "I've got a bone to pick with you." So what was the problem?
Reading between the lines, it would seem that the problem was twofold. First, worship had become routine (v. 3). Routine worship can be caused by several different factors such as taking God's presence for granted -- assuming that because God has been present in the past, he will continue to be present in the future. Israel assumed that God was some sort of divine butler waiting for her to make her wishes known so that God could hurry to their fulfillment.
For us, the omnipresence of God is not the issue -- the presumption one makes about that omnipresence is the issue. Another cause might be that one does not expect much from God's presence. Going through the ritual of worship week-in and week-out without the expectation that somehow, someway God would manifest himself in a powerful way inevitably leads to a worship that becomes routine. Worship can develop into a routine by becoming an end unto itself rather than the means by which one meets God. Routine worship is not just an ancient phenomenon. Worship today can leave the impression that its practitioners are weary of God.
The second problem was that Israel had forgotten the basis of its relationship with God. This relationship was established first of all on the saving acts of God (vv. 3-5). This was God's doing -- deeds taken at God's initiative -- a demonstration of God's benevolent grace. Israel had forgotten her history and God's place in that history. In addition, Israel's relationship with God was based on Israel acting in ways that were pleasing to God, but Israel had forgotten what it was that did indeed please God. Israel's inability to remember what God expected of her led Israel into an attitude of religious cynicism (vv. 6-7). When one forgets the history of God's saving acts and forgets what it means to live in ways pleasing to God, no relationship is possible.
Fortunately, God was not content merely to express his anger. God also provided the way to renewed relationship and meaningful worship. That way was the doing of justice, the loving of kindness, and the walking in humility before God.
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Some years ago Francis Schaeffer wrote a book titled No Little People. The thesis was that in the out-working of God's plans and purposes, no one is unimportant. One could easily borrow Schaeffer's title and apply it to Paul's discourse in today's lesson. In a world where knowledge is king and wisdom is the prime minister, those who are judged to be lacking in either knowledge or wisdom are discounted at best and ignored or ridiculed at worst.
Such was the world of Paul's day. It was the orator who attracted the paparazzi, the debater who was invited to appear on the late-night talk shows, and the wise whose op-ed pieces established the agenda for societal dialogue. Into this world of cerebral hubris entered the gospel proclamation of a crucified redeemer -- a most irrational concept.
According to Jewish expectation, when the Messiah arrived he would usher in the Day of the Lord. Present injustices would be set right. The rich and poor would experience a reversal of fortunes. The yoke of the oppressed would be lifted and God's purposes would reign supreme. In other words, the Messiah of God would be known by these signs of fulfilled expectations.
Already in the first century there had arisen charismatic claimants to the messianic mantle, but these had proven to be imposters. Why? Because the appropriate messianic indicators did not materialize. This was no less true for the ministry of Jesus when judged by the same criteria. Thus the proclamation of Jesus as Messiah was a "stumbling block" to the Jews.
For the Greeks, the gospel did not pass the "straight face" test. The idea that one's redemptive power would be demonstrated through a public execution and subsequent claims of resurrection was folly, even laughable. But Paul's assessment is even more ominous. The word translated "foolishness" (v. 23) is skandalon (scandal) and it means "the cause for destruction." The refusal of the wise to recognize the wisdom of God was the cause of their own undoing.
By contrast God's wisdom -- Jesus Christ -- chose a path that circumvented the normal channels of expectation. God chose the powerless to become the channels of his transformative power. God chose the lowborn to proclaim the joy of being heaven-born. God chose the impractical, the irrational, the foolish to manifest a wisdom more profound than the wisdom of the sage. God chose those who did not count for much to represent that which counted the most.
Might it be possible that he continues to do so even today? Might not Jesus more readily be found in the poverty of the inner city than in the ornate structures constructed in his honor? Might not his voice more likely be heard in the cries of despair than in the voices of choirs? Might not his face stare back at us from the cardboard-box house beneath the overpass more genuinely than from the stained-glass window on the city's hill? Is it possible that God continues to withhold his wisdom from the wise -- even the religiously wise?
Matthew 5:1-12
The interpreter knows by now that Matthew is presenting an account of the ministry of Jesus that is patterned after the experiences of Moses. No place is this approach clearer than in chapters 5-7, commonly known as the Sermon on the Mount. Just as Moses ascended Mount Sinai to receive the commandments of God for the life of the people, likewise Jesus is presented as going up a mountain to deliver a form of commandment for the life of the people. The phrase, "You have heard it said... but I say unto you," is Matthew's way of comparing and contrasting Jesus and Moses as well as demonstrating Jesus' fulfillment of the Torah's intent.
Our focus today is that portion of the Sermon on the Mount known as the Beatitudes. The word "beatitude" is the Latin form of the word translated in the English Bible as "blessed." The force of this word can be captured in the phrase, "to be congratulated!" Those for whom these attributes are a reality are to be congratulated because the practical result of these attributes is to be brought nearer to God's view of reality.
Matthew seems to be moving in the right direction with his Beatitudes, but his end product doesn't seem to reflect modern priorities. He speaks of the kingdom of heaven when we are much more interested in the kingdoms of this world. He talks about being comforted, but our preference is invincibility. He speaks of inheriting the earth. Forget the earth, we would rather inherit the estate and preferably without the accompanying taxes. Matthew would wish for us to be filled, but being filled is not enough -- we want to be satiated to the point of gluttony. Matthew's interest is that we receive mercy, but we would trade mercy any day for a good dose of justice. He holds out the hope of our seeing God, but we are much more interested in seeing the success of our own efforts. Matthew invites us into the security of the parental embrace, but our desire is for autonomous lives unencumbered by parental supervision.
Just as our goals are different than Matthew's, so are our means of attaining those goals different. The only way to survive among the kingdoms of this world is through an exercise of power. If someone comes at you with a big stick, you go at him with a bigger stick. If there are those who refuse to play by the rules you have established, you eliminate them from the game. It may seem at times like a Darwinian nightmare, but if one wants to survive, one must be the fittest.
If the goal is invincibility, then one must refuse to show weakness. Receiving comfort when you mourn is good -- never having to mourn is better. To show weakness is to leave oneself vulnerable and vulnerability is the Achilles' heel of self-sufficiency. One simply must never show weakness.
If one wants to inherit the estate, one must be aggressive -- at least more aggressive than the other claimants. If the goal is to be satiated, then the word "enough" must be removed from one's vocabulary. Whether it is wealth or power or possessions or the means for achieving them, one's hunger and thirst must never be satisfied. If the goal is justice, it must be exercised in a manner that is swift and sure. Mercy is the name of the hospital where we send those on whom we have demonstrated justice. If our goal is to see the success of our efforts, then we dare not allow ourselves the luxury of emotional attachment or moral squeamishness. An unrocked boat, a steady course and a refusal to be sidetracked by ethical niceties will go far in achieving the success we desire. Finally, if our goal is autonomous lives, then peacekeeping is to be prized above peacemaking, for the messy entanglements of interpersonal intervention would rob us of time and energy better spent on ourselves.
Yet, after years and years of pursuing these goals, we find ourselves feeling more frightened, confused, insecure, and helpless than we can ever remember. Into this moment steps Jesus Christ reminding us that (to borrow a Neil Diamond phrase) he has looked at life from both sides and that we are following an illusion -- we really don't know life at all. He invites us to sit with him on the hillside as he tells us of a better way -- the way of blessedness.
* Blessed are you who are experiencing the crushing, cowering poverty of spirit, for you now know that power has its limits. Through that realization the kingdom of heaven is open to you.
* Blessed are you whose hearts can only sing a dirge and whose tears are dried with a shroud. You have lost your sense of invincibility, but you have gained a comforter.
* Blessed are you who have discovered that strength is not always defined by muscle, nor courage by aggression. To you the earth will yield its promise.
* Blessed are you whose bread and water is the very presence of God. As deep calls to deep, you will not be lacking in any good thing.
* Blessed are you who are aware that an open hand is more powerful than a closed fist. To you the hand of God will come as a gentle embrace.
* Blessed are you whose heart, undivided by competing loyalties, seeks the heart of love. Not even the darkest of nights will blind you to the presence of God.
* Blessed are you who do the things that make for peace. You truly are your Father's child.
Application
Remember the traumatic events of September 11, 2001? Grief, fear, shock, confusion, anger? There was a certainty that not one of us would ever be the same again.
Questions were raised about the theological significance of the terrorist attack. Did God cause this tragedy? Is this some sort of punishment by God? If so, why? Punishment for what? If God did not cause the tragedy, then why did he let it happen? Why could God not have stopped it? Why did so many innocent ones have to suffer? What would God have us learn from this devastating trauma?
Some of these questions were clearly a product of emotion than reflection, but some of them were not so easily dismissed and will continue to nag every one of us.
We heard words of revenge and vengeance. These words hold theological significance. For the most pressing question for those who take seriously their Christian commitment is, "What ought to be the response of faith?" Is revenge an option for the follower of Jesus Christ? Is there a place for retaliation in the Christian ethic? Is not the task of forgiveness in times like this nothing short of traitorous?
It seems to me that if the Christian faith is inoperable in the face of such evil, then the Christian faith has no value at all. Jesus said, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Jesus said, "If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also." Jesus said, "When you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you... first be reconciled to your brother or sister." Jesus said, "If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."
What are we to say to this? Are these words of Jesus only for minor offenses, but have no currency for great offenses? Are they only for personal slights, but have no legitimacy for wrongs done against a nation? Are these words mere theory devoid of practicality; spiritual niceties that will not work in the real world; valid only in times of peace but not in times of war?
The events of September 11 have presented the church with a theological crisis. Are we willing to implement the teachings of Jesus even when rationality, solidarity, and patriotism demand a different response? Are we willing to allow the wisdom of God to overrule the wisdom of this age in our actions? Are we willing to be fools for Christ or just plain fools?
Alternative Applications
Micah 6:1-8. God requires three things of those with whom he is in relationship: justice, kindness, humility. What are the meanings of these words? Is justice more like compassion or judgment? More like fairness or equal treatment? More like doing what is right for the individual or doing what is in the best interest of the group? More like a halfway house or a prison cell? Is kindness more heart than head or more head than heart? More like good deeds or good attitude? More like a casual benevolence or a committed caring? More what one does for God or what one does for others? Is humility more docile or self-assertive? More like confidence or self-abasement? More what one is or how one acts? More the downplaying of strengths or the exercise of one's gifts?
1 Corinthians 1:18-31; Matthew 5:1-12. Both of these passages serve to remind the reader that one thing that we can always expect from God is the unexpected. This understanding could be reinforced for the worshiper by an overview of God's acts within the New Testament. From the birth narratives to Jesus' teaching to take the unexpected initiative in Matthew, from Jesus' encounters with the outcasts and marginalized to God's selection of the kind of people he chooses for his service (1 Corinthians), from the instructions Jesus gave his disciples that to live one must die to his demonstration of this truth in the passion narratives, God is acting in unexpected ways. Perhaps there are illustrations of this characteristic of God in your own congregation that could be added to this list. The point of all of this is to prepare the congregation to expect the unexpected and to look for God daily in places where they might least expect to find him.
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 15
The church sign on the front of the building loudly proclaimed that "Everyone is welcome at this church. Everyone." And the person who was maligning and angry, yelling and spreading negative energy everywhere she went, was quick to point this out to everyone. When someone gently tried to point out the person's behavior was not helpful, the woman would bristle and say, "Oh, I see. Everyone's welcome but me!" It was an ongoing and most unpleasant circumstance.
Finally, someone in the community mustered the courage to confront the woman.
Squaring off with her, this usually quiet man said, "Dear friend, everyone is welcome in this Christian church, but not all behavior is tolerated. Everyone is welcome, but we have a standard of excellence that we adhere to in our behavior toward one another. If you cannot rise to that standard, then we invite you to return to where you can."
The woman was chagrinned, to be sure. But she ceased her destructive behavior and did not return until some time later, and then with a much changed attitude. "Who," the psalm asks, "may abide in the tents of the Lord?" Well, it turns out that the answer, as it was with our church friend, is behavioral. You get to live in the tents of the Lord if you play nice, if you tell the truth, and if you do not slander or trash talk other people. Read this brief psalm. It's quite clear.
The problem with Christian churches across the land is that they are not clear about this.
Who's welcome? Everyone, of course. We're all nice, smiling Christians. How often, though, does this broad welcome invite and even excuse horrible behavior? How often is abusive and slanderous behavior tolerated because "nice" Christians won't be clear about our behavioral expectations?
Why is it that such clarity is hard to locate? It isn't complicated, and it really isn't too difficult. Love well and love abundantly. There shall be no gossiping, no snide remarks or nasty comments; no judging, of others or angry outbursts. In Christian community of all places, this should be clear. Yet sadly, it is not. Who can live in the tents of the Lord? The psalmist is clear. Perhaps the church can follow suit and find some clarity as well?
Tom and David Gardner seem to be willing to take a chance few believers are willing to take -- the risk of appearing foolish. There are other attributes that rate higher for believers in their public personae -- attributes like acceptability, reasonableness, caution, conformity. The problem is that these attributes often do not mesh well with living out a biblical faith. The ethic that Jesus calls his followers to is one that demands risk-taking -- actions that may seem to others to be unreasonable, wrong, stupid, or even foolish.
What we fail to realize is the impossibility of avoiding the fool label. By being obedient to the gospel's demands, one runs the risk of being a fool for Christ. By ignoring the gospel's demands, one runs the risk of being just a plain fool.
Micah 6:1-8
There is an old saying, which may have fallen into disuse, that goes, "I've got a bone to pick with you." I don't know its derivation, but it means that you have done something that has offended me and we've got to talk about it. In this passage God is saying to Israel, "I've got a bone to pick with you." So what was the problem?
Reading between the lines, it would seem that the problem was twofold. First, worship had become routine (v. 3). Routine worship can be caused by several different factors such as taking God's presence for granted -- assuming that because God has been present in the past, he will continue to be present in the future. Israel assumed that God was some sort of divine butler waiting for her to make her wishes known so that God could hurry to their fulfillment.
For us, the omnipresence of God is not the issue -- the presumption one makes about that omnipresence is the issue. Another cause might be that one does not expect much from God's presence. Going through the ritual of worship week-in and week-out without the expectation that somehow, someway God would manifest himself in a powerful way inevitably leads to a worship that becomes routine. Worship can develop into a routine by becoming an end unto itself rather than the means by which one meets God. Routine worship is not just an ancient phenomenon. Worship today can leave the impression that its practitioners are weary of God.
The second problem was that Israel had forgotten the basis of its relationship with God. This relationship was established first of all on the saving acts of God (vv. 3-5). This was God's doing -- deeds taken at God's initiative -- a demonstration of God's benevolent grace. Israel had forgotten her history and God's place in that history. In addition, Israel's relationship with God was based on Israel acting in ways that were pleasing to God, but Israel had forgotten what it was that did indeed please God. Israel's inability to remember what God expected of her led Israel into an attitude of religious cynicism (vv. 6-7). When one forgets the history of God's saving acts and forgets what it means to live in ways pleasing to God, no relationship is possible.
Fortunately, God was not content merely to express his anger. God also provided the way to renewed relationship and meaningful worship. That way was the doing of justice, the loving of kindness, and the walking in humility before God.
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Some years ago Francis Schaeffer wrote a book titled No Little People. The thesis was that in the out-working of God's plans and purposes, no one is unimportant. One could easily borrow Schaeffer's title and apply it to Paul's discourse in today's lesson. In a world where knowledge is king and wisdom is the prime minister, those who are judged to be lacking in either knowledge or wisdom are discounted at best and ignored or ridiculed at worst.
Such was the world of Paul's day. It was the orator who attracted the paparazzi, the debater who was invited to appear on the late-night talk shows, and the wise whose op-ed pieces established the agenda for societal dialogue. Into this world of cerebral hubris entered the gospel proclamation of a crucified redeemer -- a most irrational concept.
According to Jewish expectation, when the Messiah arrived he would usher in the Day of the Lord. Present injustices would be set right. The rich and poor would experience a reversal of fortunes. The yoke of the oppressed would be lifted and God's purposes would reign supreme. In other words, the Messiah of God would be known by these signs of fulfilled expectations.
Already in the first century there had arisen charismatic claimants to the messianic mantle, but these had proven to be imposters. Why? Because the appropriate messianic indicators did not materialize. This was no less true for the ministry of Jesus when judged by the same criteria. Thus the proclamation of Jesus as Messiah was a "stumbling block" to the Jews.
For the Greeks, the gospel did not pass the "straight face" test. The idea that one's redemptive power would be demonstrated through a public execution and subsequent claims of resurrection was folly, even laughable. But Paul's assessment is even more ominous. The word translated "foolishness" (v. 23) is skandalon (scandal) and it means "the cause for destruction." The refusal of the wise to recognize the wisdom of God was the cause of their own undoing.
By contrast God's wisdom -- Jesus Christ -- chose a path that circumvented the normal channels of expectation. God chose the powerless to become the channels of his transformative power. God chose the lowborn to proclaim the joy of being heaven-born. God chose the impractical, the irrational, the foolish to manifest a wisdom more profound than the wisdom of the sage. God chose those who did not count for much to represent that which counted the most.
Might it be possible that he continues to do so even today? Might not Jesus more readily be found in the poverty of the inner city than in the ornate structures constructed in his honor? Might not his voice more likely be heard in the cries of despair than in the voices of choirs? Might not his face stare back at us from the cardboard-box house beneath the overpass more genuinely than from the stained-glass window on the city's hill? Is it possible that God continues to withhold his wisdom from the wise -- even the religiously wise?
Matthew 5:1-12
The interpreter knows by now that Matthew is presenting an account of the ministry of Jesus that is patterned after the experiences of Moses. No place is this approach clearer than in chapters 5-7, commonly known as the Sermon on the Mount. Just as Moses ascended Mount Sinai to receive the commandments of God for the life of the people, likewise Jesus is presented as going up a mountain to deliver a form of commandment for the life of the people. The phrase, "You have heard it said... but I say unto you," is Matthew's way of comparing and contrasting Jesus and Moses as well as demonstrating Jesus' fulfillment of the Torah's intent.
Our focus today is that portion of the Sermon on the Mount known as the Beatitudes. The word "beatitude" is the Latin form of the word translated in the English Bible as "blessed." The force of this word can be captured in the phrase, "to be congratulated!" Those for whom these attributes are a reality are to be congratulated because the practical result of these attributes is to be brought nearer to God's view of reality.
Matthew seems to be moving in the right direction with his Beatitudes, but his end product doesn't seem to reflect modern priorities. He speaks of the kingdom of heaven when we are much more interested in the kingdoms of this world. He talks about being comforted, but our preference is invincibility. He speaks of inheriting the earth. Forget the earth, we would rather inherit the estate and preferably without the accompanying taxes. Matthew would wish for us to be filled, but being filled is not enough -- we want to be satiated to the point of gluttony. Matthew's interest is that we receive mercy, but we would trade mercy any day for a good dose of justice. He holds out the hope of our seeing God, but we are much more interested in seeing the success of our own efforts. Matthew invites us into the security of the parental embrace, but our desire is for autonomous lives unencumbered by parental supervision.
Just as our goals are different than Matthew's, so are our means of attaining those goals different. The only way to survive among the kingdoms of this world is through an exercise of power. If someone comes at you with a big stick, you go at him with a bigger stick. If there are those who refuse to play by the rules you have established, you eliminate them from the game. It may seem at times like a Darwinian nightmare, but if one wants to survive, one must be the fittest.
If the goal is invincibility, then one must refuse to show weakness. Receiving comfort when you mourn is good -- never having to mourn is better. To show weakness is to leave oneself vulnerable and vulnerability is the Achilles' heel of self-sufficiency. One simply must never show weakness.
If one wants to inherit the estate, one must be aggressive -- at least more aggressive than the other claimants. If the goal is to be satiated, then the word "enough" must be removed from one's vocabulary. Whether it is wealth or power or possessions or the means for achieving them, one's hunger and thirst must never be satisfied. If the goal is justice, it must be exercised in a manner that is swift and sure. Mercy is the name of the hospital where we send those on whom we have demonstrated justice. If our goal is to see the success of our efforts, then we dare not allow ourselves the luxury of emotional attachment or moral squeamishness. An unrocked boat, a steady course and a refusal to be sidetracked by ethical niceties will go far in achieving the success we desire. Finally, if our goal is autonomous lives, then peacekeeping is to be prized above peacemaking, for the messy entanglements of interpersonal intervention would rob us of time and energy better spent on ourselves.
Yet, after years and years of pursuing these goals, we find ourselves feeling more frightened, confused, insecure, and helpless than we can ever remember. Into this moment steps Jesus Christ reminding us that (to borrow a Neil Diamond phrase) he has looked at life from both sides and that we are following an illusion -- we really don't know life at all. He invites us to sit with him on the hillside as he tells us of a better way -- the way of blessedness.
* Blessed are you who are experiencing the crushing, cowering poverty of spirit, for you now know that power has its limits. Through that realization the kingdom of heaven is open to you.
* Blessed are you whose hearts can only sing a dirge and whose tears are dried with a shroud. You have lost your sense of invincibility, but you have gained a comforter.
* Blessed are you who have discovered that strength is not always defined by muscle, nor courage by aggression. To you the earth will yield its promise.
* Blessed are you whose bread and water is the very presence of God. As deep calls to deep, you will not be lacking in any good thing.
* Blessed are you who are aware that an open hand is more powerful than a closed fist. To you the hand of God will come as a gentle embrace.
* Blessed are you whose heart, undivided by competing loyalties, seeks the heart of love. Not even the darkest of nights will blind you to the presence of God.
* Blessed are you who do the things that make for peace. You truly are your Father's child.
Application
Remember the traumatic events of September 11, 2001? Grief, fear, shock, confusion, anger? There was a certainty that not one of us would ever be the same again.
Questions were raised about the theological significance of the terrorist attack. Did God cause this tragedy? Is this some sort of punishment by God? If so, why? Punishment for what? If God did not cause the tragedy, then why did he let it happen? Why could God not have stopped it? Why did so many innocent ones have to suffer? What would God have us learn from this devastating trauma?
Some of these questions were clearly a product of emotion than reflection, but some of them were not so easily dismissed and will continue to nag every one of us.
We heard words of revenge and vengeance. These words hold theological significance. For the most pressing question for those who take seriously their Christian commitment is, "What ought to be the response of faith?" Is revenge an option for the follower of Jesus Christ? Is there a place for retaliation in the Christian ethic? Is not the task of forgiveness in times like this nothing short of traitorous?
It seems to me that if the Christian faith is inoperable in the face of such evil, then the Christian faith has no value at all. Jesus said, "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Jesus said, "If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also." Jesus said, "When you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you... first be reconciled to your brother or sister." Jesus said, "If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."
What are we to say to this? Are these words of Jesus only for minor offenses, but have no currency for great offenses? Are they only for personal slights, but have no legitimacy for wrongs done against a nation? Are these words mere theory devoid of practicality; spiritual niceties that will not work in the real world; valid only in times of peace but not in times of war?
The events of September 11 have presented the church with a theological crisis. Are we willing to implement the teachings of Jesus even when rationality, solidarity, and patriotism demand a different response? Are we willing to allow the wisdom of God to overrule the wisdom of this age in our actions? Are we willing to be fools for Christ or just plain fools?
Alternative Applications
Micah 6:1-8. God requires three things of those with whom he is in relationship: justice, kindness, humility. What are the meanings of these words? Is justice more like compassion or judgment? More like fairness or equal treatment? More like doing what is right for the individual or doing what is in the best interest of the group? More like a halfway house or a prison cell? Is kindness more heart than head or more head than heart? More like good deeds or good attitude? More like a casual benevolence or a committed caring? More what one does for God or what one does for others? Is humility more docile or self-assertive? More like confidence or self-abasement? More what one is or how one acts? More the downplaying of strengths or the exercise of one's gifts?
1 Corinthians 1:18-31; Matthew 5:1-12. Both of these passages serve to remind the reader that one thing that we can always expect from God is the unexpected. This understanding could be reinforced for the worshiper by an overview of God's acts within the New Testament. From the birth narratives to Jesus' teaching to take the unexpected initiative in Matthew, from Jesus' encounters with the outcasts and marginalized to God's selection of the kind of people he chooses for his service (1 Corinthians), from the instructions Jesus gave his disciples that to live one must die to his demonstration of this truth in the passion narratives, God is acting in unexpected ways. Perhaps there are illustrations of this characteristic of God in your own congregation that could be added to this list. The point of all of this is to prepare the congregation to expect the unexpected and to look for God daily in places where they might least expect to find him.
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 15
The church sign on the front of the building loudly proclaimed that "Everyone is welcome at this church. Everyone." And the person who was maligning and angry, yelling and spreading negative energy everywhere she went, was quick to point this out to everyone. When someone gently tried to point out the person's behavior was not helpful, the woman would bristle and say, "Oh, I see. Everyone's welcome but me!" It was an ongoing and most unpleasant circumstance.
Finally, someone in the community mustered the courage to confront the woman.
Squaring off with her, this usually quiet man said, "Dear friend, everyone is welcome in this Christian church, but not all behavior is tolerated. Everyone is welcome, but we have a standard of excellence that we adhere to in our behavior toward one another. If you cannot rise to that standard, then we invite you to return to where you can."
The woman was chagrinned, to be sure. But she ceased her destructive behavior and did not return until some time later, and then with a much changed attitude. "Who," the psalm asks, "may abide in the tents of the Lord?" Well, it turns out that the answer, as it was with our church friend, is behavioral. You get to live in the tents of the Lord if you play nice, if you tell the truth, and if you do not slander or trash talk other people. Read this brief psalm. It's quite clear.
The problem with Christian churches across the land is that they are not clear about this.
Who's welcome? Everyone, of course. We're all nice, smiling Christians. How often, though, does this broad welcome invite and even excuse horrible behavior? How often is abusive and slanderous behavior tolerated because "nice" Christians won't be clear about our behavioral expectations?
Why is it that such clarity is hard to locate? It isn't complicated, and it really isn't too difficult. Love well and love abundantly. There shall be no gossiping, no snide remarks or nasty comments; no judging, of others or angry outbursts. In Christian community of all places, this should be clear. Yet sadly, it is not. Who can live in the tents of the Lord? The psalmist is clear. Perhaps the church can follow suit and find some clarity as well?
