Question me an answer
Commentary
There is an old show tune, made popular by Bobby Van, whose chorus goes like this:
Question me an answer bright and clear.
I will answer with a question clear and bright.
Even though your answer may be wrong,
My question will be right.
The "Question Me an Answer" approach has been made more popular by the game show, Jeopardy. Answers are revealed on a money board and the contestants try to be the quickest to respond with the correct question. As with Bobby Van's song, oftentimes the contestant's question does not match the predetermined answer.
That can also happen when one tries to interpret a biblical text. This is especially true when the interpreter arrives at the text's answer before he/she asks the appropriate questions of the text or when the questions are shaped to support a predetermined conclusion.
Today's texts offer the interpreter an opportunity to question some answers even as she/he answers some questions posed by the scripture passages. Remember, let the questions guide the conclusions. For even though your answer may be wrong, your question will be right.
Genesis 12:1-4a
Don't you just love a good mystery? There is something about the tension between knowing some things, but not knowing everything; between the art of misdirection and the clues being hidden in plain sight that make mysteries such fun to read. In today's Genesis lesson we are presented with the opening chapter of a marvelous mystery.
The major characters of this mystery are Abram (Abraham), Sarai (Sarah) and God. There is a whole host of supporting characters, each of whom add to the story a complication to the mystery's unraveling. The plot is fairly simple -- God calls from a family of Mesopotamian wanderers one individual, Abram. To Abram God makes three promises: a promise of land, a promise of offspring and a promise of blessing. The land represents more than real estate -- it is the hope of rootedness and belonging. The offspring represent more than a headcount for the family reunion -- they are the guarantee that one's name, indeed one's self, will live on beyond mortality. The blessing represents more than a divine rabbit's foot -- it is the promise that one's life will have significance.
The mystery is this: Will the promises of God find fulfillment? One after the other, in circumstance after circumstance, the survivability of the promises are threatened. Will God remain true to his word? Will Abram give up before he gives out? Will the mystery be solved in a way that provides hope for the reader?
As every mystery reader knows, the best way to enjoy the story is to live with it as it unfolds and to not read the last page prematurely. To receive the blessing offered by this Genesis mystery, the reader may need to suspend her/his knowledge of the story's conclusion and live with it in all its twists and turns. The promise of blessing, of immortality and of significance still await a faith-filled discovery.
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
Amidst the crude and suggestive comments and drawings on the public restroom wall was some soul's attempt to introduce the profound into the profane. "Christ is the answer" was the scrawled message. Someone other, who was a wit by a half, could not refrain from adding, "Really, so what's the question?"
In spite of this attempt at irreverence, the point raised is an important one. It is difficult, especially for the interpreter, to satisfactorily arrive at an answer without knowing the question being asked. Equally important is asking the right question, because if one asks the wrong question of the text then the answer will not coincide with the author's intent. Adding to the difficulty are the layers of tradition and (mis-?) interpretation through which the interpreter must sift in order to ask the most appropriate question.
Paul's letter to the Roman Christians is a prime example of the importance of asking the appropriate question. Interpretations abound over what exactly it is Paul is trying to say. Traditionally, questions are asked of the letter to the Romans, which result in an answer that pits Jewish belief and practice against Christian belief and practice. When asked, "What does Paul mean by the term 'law'?" the answer comes back equating law with legalism and both with Jewish practice, and therefore receiving Paul's condemnation.
What I am suggesting that the interpreter do with today's text is to spend time trying to decipher the question being asked before rushing forward with an answer that may not be the most appropriate for the text. Is the question being addressed one that challenges the law's validity? Not according to Romans 3:31. Is the question one that excludes the Jew from the promises of God? Not according to Romans 4:16. Is the question such that faith is the only thing that matters and that how one expresses that faith (works) is of little consequence? Such an answer would be in conflict with other portions of scripture.
So, what is the question? Let me offer a suggestion (you are of course free to disagree). The question is: Upon what basis is a relationship with God established? The two options Paul considers are faith and works. By "faith" Paul means that unmerited acceptance which God offers an individual based solely on the desire and character of God. By "works" Paul means any individual effort that seeks to establish a quid pro quo arrangement with God.
Paul's example that best illustrates his understanding of faith is the Abraham-God encounter. Abraham was counted as righteous based solely on God's grace -- nothing more, nothing less. Paul's example that illustrates his understanding of works is anyone who relies on obedience to a set of doctrines as the means toward acceptance by God.
Is Paul charging the Jewish faith with a righteousness based on works? I don't think so. Paul is not arguing specific cases of Jew vs. Christian, but is saying that right standing before God for Jew or Gentile is the result of God's grace and that either Jew or Gentile is misguided if they believe that God's favor can in any sense be earned.
God's grace is the answer, but the question really does matter.
John 3:1-17
The story of the encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus is a familiar one. The storyline (with variations) goes like this: Nicodemus, a member of the Jewish ruling council known as the Sanhedrin, came to Jesus under the cover of darkness so as not to be discovered by his co-religionists. He attempts to engage Jesus in conversation, using flattery as an icebreaker. Jesus, who sees through Nicodemus' intentions, cuts through the small talk and raises the central issue of Nicodemus' need for a rebirth. Nicodemus is either innately obtuse or else is pretending not to understand to avoid facing the obvious implications of Jesus' words. So Jesus makes another attempt to explain to Nicodemus what is necessary for entrance into the kingdom of God. Once again Nicodemus seems not to understand and thus betrays not only his own lack of knowledge, but also the intellectual and spiritual bankruptcy of other teachers of Israel (like himself). Finally, Jesus confirms that Nicodemus (and with him the Jewish religion) is spiritually dense. The passage concludes with an affirmation of God's love and a proclamation of God's willingness to receive whomsoever comes to the Divine in the appropriate way.
If this summary appears a bit harsh, I would argue that it is no less harsh than John's intention. Usually the interpreter approaches this text as an honest dialogue between Jesus and a seeker. If so, it seems like a strange way to carry on a conversation. Rather than engaging in communication, Jesus and Nicodemus appear to be talking past each other. And by taking this encounter as an honest dialogue, the interpreter is left to explain the oddities of the text in a somewhat similar way to what I have done above.
I suggest that the interpreter look at this familiar text in an unfamiliar way. Begin with the assumption that John is not presenting an honest dialogue, but a dishonest dialogue. Nicodemus, then, is not a genuine seeker, but rather a foil against whom John is making his theological points. (Another way of looking at this is that if a true seeker is a type, then Nicodemus is an anti-type.) If this is seen, then, as a dishonest dialogue in the way I have suggested, it seems that the interpreter could gain fresh insights by focusing on the dialogue of Nicodemus.
If John were using Nicodemus to represent the negative side of faith, what would be the positive side of faith? Let me offer a few suggestions, which, I hope, will aid your own thinking. Nicodemus begins with a statement (v. 2) affirming God's activity in Jesus' actions. This affirmation is based on the observable "signs" witnessed by Nicodemus and others. Jesus' rebuff might be John's way of saying that reliance on the supernatural is an insufficient basis for faith. The next speech of Nicodemus is in the form of a question (v. 4) challenging the possibility of a re-natal experience. John's point here might be that faith's reality will not always fit neatly within the bounds of the theological or the rational. Nicodemus' final words, again in the form of a question (v. 9), are an expression of bafflement. Perhaps the truth here is that faith that can be explained ceases to be faith.
To consider that John is using dishonest dialogue is not to diminish the story, but simply to ask different questions of a familiar text.
Application
Moses had been leading the Israelite wanderers for almost 40 years and hardly a week had gone by without some element of the people complaining about something. Usually the complaining had to do with either not enough food or an insufficient water supply. When the people complained to Moses, Moses turned to God and God would instruct Moses about what needed to be done. The complaint about a lack of water produced what became a routine response. The people said to Moses, "No water." Moses said to God, "No water." God said to Moses, "Strike the rock with the rod in your hand." Moses struck the rock, water came forth, and everybody was happy.
One day, God changed things up just to see if anyone was paying attention. The people said to Moses, "No water." Moses said to God, "No water." God said to Moses, "Speak to the rock." Moses having been through the drill so many times and knowing the answer before he asked the question, did not listen carefully to God's command and struck the rock. According to the text, Moses' presumption was a pivotal factor in his being forbidden to enter the Promised Land.
Presumption is a cancerous attitude. It was for Moses. It is for the police officers who presume the likelihood of one's guilt or innocence based on racial characteristics. It is for the nationalist who presumes the character of the immigrant or foreigner. It is for husbands and wives who presume the disaffection of the other and begin their own withdrawal based on that presumption. It is for the reader of scripture who approaches a text presuming to know its meaning without engaging in a careful reading of the text.
Presumption is a close cousin to clairvoyance and is about as reliable. Presumption forestalls communication. Presumption renders listening unnecessary. Presumption gives answers before the question is asked.
Because we know the end of Abraham's story from the beginning, we feel no need to live within its mystery. We feel no need to share in its drama. We feel no need to reflect carefully on the text. Our presumptions about the text keep us from realizing that the issues at stake in the text are really issues that speak to the heart of our existence.
Because we presume to know that Paul's theology was one of Jewish rejection and Christian supersessionism, we have no reason to question the text concerning Paul's relationship to his religious heritage. We shape the questions to fit the answers we have presumed to be correct in the first place. The most difficult texts in all of scripture are the ones most familiar to us. The presumptions we make about the "truth" of the text inhibit our freedom to ask creative and fresh questions about the text and prevent us from hearing a new word from God.
Because we have heard the story of Nicodemus so many times we have presumed an understanding of it that may work to hinder the Spirit moving as it chooses within our lives. To question the text anew without the presumption of an answer may lead to a rebirth of heart and mind.
Laying our presumptions aside, let each of us as faithful interpreters approach every text as though we are reading it for the first time. Only then will a true dialogue with the text occur -- only then will we avoid striking the rock of sameness.
Alternative Applications
1) Genesis 12:1-4a: In every community there are ministry needs that go unmet because either no one has recognized the need or having recognized it, no one has done anything about it. One novel approach to this text would focus on God's sending of Abram into the unknown. To give the congregation a flavor of what that sending was all about, the pastor could prepare mission assignments for the congregation, place the written assignments in unmarked letter envelopes and at the end of the sermon, distribute the assignments to each member present. This could be called their Abraham Adventure. During the week the congregants are to journey into the unknown by completing their mission assignments. The following week time could be allotted in the service for members to report back on how God used their call to the unknown to bring about a blessing.
2) Romans 4:1-5, 13-17: In proclamation, oftentimes the concepts of grace and works are pitted against each other. If a Pauline text is used, then grace is emphasized over works. If a James text is used, then works is emphasized. Seldom are these two concepts brought together in a creative tension in one sermon. If our right standing (righteousness) with God is a consequence of God's grace, how is that right standing lived out on a day-by-day basis? If works are a demonstration of faithful obedience to God, is grace no longer a part of the equation? If Paul is unwilling to overthrow the law by means of faith (3:31), what then is the appropriate relationship between the two? A sermon that weds these two biblical concepts with creativity would perform a needed service to a congregation serious about its relationship to God.
3) John 3:1-17: A careful reading of this text reveals that Jesus never gave a direct answer to Nicodemus' questions. If we were the one asking the questions, would we be satisfied with the answers Jesus gave? Was Jesus being purposefully vague? If so, why? Is there something about faith that invites our questions, but leaves us with incomplete answers? Are incomplete answers the nature of faith? Are complete answers in some sense faith inhibitors? Are our strivings after answers acts of faithlessness? What does it mean to live with the ambiguity of God's vague responses to life's questions?
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
Genesis 12:1-4a
"For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:17). From the very beginning of biblical history, God's intention is to save us. That is as true in the Old Testament as it is in the New, and with our text for the morning from Genesis, we find God beginning to fulfill that intention. But why is that salvation necessary?
Genesis 12 has a preface that explains the reason. The preface is made up of the first 11 chapters of Genesis, and in that preface, the Bible tells us a lot about the character of God and of human beings like you and me. It affirms that the Lord created this world "very good." It says that he gave all sorts of wonderful gifts to human beings -- the gifts of beauty and food, of meaningful and creative work, of nature filled with creatures of every kind, and above all, the gifts of joyful human marital relations and of community. Indeed, Genesis 1 even confesses that God created you and me in his own image, to have an unbreakable relationship with him, and then he set us in a world that is sustained in its regular order by his faithfulness.
But the preface found in Genesis 1-11 also tells us that something dreadful happened to God's good creation. We creatures corrupted it. We tried to deny our God-given image and to do without the Lord in running our own lives. So we spoiled every one of God's good gifts -- and we spoil them still today. We turn beauty into ugliness and trash the natural world. In the place of meaningful work, we substitute laborious toil and greed. We break up marital relations and ruin children with infidelity and selfishness. We mar community with power struggles and hatred and war. And we act as if we are autonomous, self-made persons unrelated to our Creator and responsible only for our own deeds and future. Christian doctrine calls that the "fall," our fall into sin, and every single one of us contributes to or participates in that corruption. As a result, every single one of us is also going to die, for "the wages of sin is death" apart from the Creator of life, and all of us have sinned.
As our text for the morning from Genesis 12 begins, however, it tells us about the love of God, for the Lord God will not let us simply perish in our self-made fallen state. He loves us too much for that. And so in about 1750 B.C., our God begins a long history that has as its purpose to save us, to save us from death and the consequences of our sinful foolishness. God begins a history in which he will restore his creation to the goodness that he intended for it and for all of us in the beginning. God calls one man named Abraham, along with his family, out of their home in northern Mesopotamia, and he gives that man a promise. Leave everything behind you, he tells Abraham -- your country, your kin, your lodging, your occupation -- and set out on a journey toward a land that I will show you. Then follows the promise.
"I will make of you a great nation." Now that seems pretty silly, because we are told in a passage just before our text that Abram's wife, Sarai, is barren (Genesis 11:30). Nevertheless, God is going to give an aged Abraham and Sarah many descendants.
"I will make your name great." If we read back in chapter 11, verse 4, we see that the ambition of human beings always has been to make their own name great, and that's always been pretty much our ambition too, has it not -- to have an honored place in our social circle or business or society or nation? But now, in this promise to Abraham, it's only God who can make anyone honored.
"I will bless those who bless you, and him who curses you I will curse." So God is making the destiny of each one of us dependent on our attitude toward his work in Abraham.
"And by you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." And there we come to the nitty-gritty of the whole tale. God has set out to reverse the cursed existence that we have brought on ourselves and our world by our sin. He has begun a history of salvation that will turn the curse into blessing. And he will work out that history through the man named Abraham and his descendants.
It can only be a source of rejoicing for us that the final sentence in our text says, "So Abram went, as the Lord had told him." No questions asked on the part of Abram, no hesitation on his part. As our epistle lesson for the morning says, Abram believed God's word, Abram acted by faith. Goodness only knows what Sarai thought of the whole affair, uprooting the household like that again! And of course nephew Lot got dragged along in the bargain. But "Abram went," and so there starts the long history of God's work toward our salvation.
But to what pains the Lord goes to work salvation for you and me and for our neighbor down the street and indeed for all people! In the stories that follow, the Lord overcomes every obstacle to the working out of his love. He gives a son and then many descendants to an aged Abraham and Sarah, and those children eventually become the 12 tribes of Israel. He delivers Israel when they have fallen into slavery in Egypt. He enters into covenant with them and promises that he will be their God, instructing them how to walk in his covenant law. He feeds and clothes and guides them through the terrors of a desert wilderness. He enables their heirs to cross over the Jordan into a land to call their own. He constantly defends them against their enemies. And he raises up a Davidic king and prophets and priests to lead them. All through the years, the Lord God struggles and defends, admonishes and weeps, forgives and delivers his chosen people, and in every act he reveals what a merciful and loving God he is, manifesting to the world that he is the one true Lord of all.
Finally, in the fullness of time, he takes on the flesh of his Jewish people, doing for them what they never do and cannot do for themselves. In the person of his Son, he dies the death for their sin and then rises victorious over it, granting to every one of us forgiveness and eternal life in his company. Yes, the Lord God took infinite trouble and infinite pain through 17 centuries to bring salvation to his world. And now he simply offers to us, through faith in his work, that salvation.
If God had not called Abraham, you and I would not be sitting in this church this morning. If he were not a God of incredible deeds, none of the history would have taken place. But God acted to save you and me simply because he loves us. He asks now that we trust his love in return.
PREACHING THE PSALM
Psalm 121
This is a hymn of praise. The psalm is easily understandable even without knowing the circumstances of ancient Israel. It straightforwardly says, "The Lord is my helper." Preaching possibilities include:
1) Knowing where our help comes from. A pastor had built a church with a freestanding altar placed so that he could look up through a translucent window, at mountains rising beyond. He said, "Isn't it wonderful to be able to say, 'I lift my eyes to the hills' when I preach and pray?" But he missed the question mark in the Hebrew construction of verse 1. Do I lift up my eyes to the hills that my help should come from there? No. My help comes from the Lord who has made the hills, not from nature itself. The majesty of the natural world can lift our sights, but only God can bring help.
2) Looking for the highest help. The great preacher of an earlier era, Phillips Brooks, preached a sermon on this psalm called "Help from the Hills," which despite its misleading title, urged his hearers to seek their help from the highest place. While acknowledging other sources of help, Brooks, said, "The real relief, the only final comfort, is God" and that we should "refuse to let ourselves be satisfied with any supply but him."
3) Being kept by God. In the NRSV, this psalm uses the word "keep" four times and "keeper" once. It is worthwhile to juxtapose this psalm with Cain's excuse in Genesis 4:9, "Am I my brother's keeper?" What does it show about the character of God that he allows himself to be identified as the keeper of Israel, and by extension, our keeper as well? Another parallel could be drawn to Jesus' identification of himself as the gatekeeper of the sheepfold (John 10:3).
Question me an answer bright and clear.
I will answer with a question clear and bright.
Even though your answer may be wrong,
My question will be right.
The "Question Me an Answer" approach has been made more popular by the game show, Jeopardy. Answers are revealed on a money board and the contestants try to be the quickest to respond with the correct question. As with Bobby Van's song, oftentimes the contestant's question does not match the predetermined answer.
That can also happen when one tries to interpret a biblical text. This is especially true when the interpreter arrives at the text's answer before he/she asks the appropriate questions of the text or when the questions are shaped to support a predetermined conclusion.
Today's texts offer the interpreter an opportunity to question some answers even as she/he answers some questions posed by the scripture passages. Remember, let the questions guide the conclusions. For even though your answer may be wrong, your question will be right.
Genesis 12:1-4a
Don't you just love a good mystery? There is something about the tension between knowing some things, but not knowing everything; between the art of misdirection and the clues being hidden in plain sight that make mysteries such fun to read. In today's Genesis lesson we are presented with the opening chapter of a marvelous mystery.
The major characters of this mystery are Abram (Abraham), Sarai (Sarah) and God. There is a whole host of supporting characters, each of whom add to the story a complication to the mystery's unraveling. The plot is fairly simple -- God calls from a family of Mesopotamian wanderers one individual, Abram. To Abram God makes three promises: a promise of land, a promise of offspring and a promise of blessing. The land represents more than real estate -- it is the hope of rootedness and belonging. The offspring represent more than a headcount for the family reunion -- they are the guarantee that one's name, indeed one's self, will live on beyond mortality. The blessing represents more than a divine rabbit's foot -- it is the promise that one's life will have significance.
The mystery is this: Will the promises of God find fulfillment? One after the other, in circumstance after circumstance, the survivability of the promises are threatened. Will God remain true to his word? Will Abram give up before he gives out? Will the mystery be solved in a way that provides hope for the reader?
As every mystery reader knows, the best way to enjoy the story is to live with it as it unfolds and to not read the last page prematurely. To receive the blessing offered by this Genesis mystery, the reader may need to suspend her/his knowledge of the story's conclusion and live with it in all its twists and turns. The promise of blessing, of immortality and of significance still await a faith-filled discovery.
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
Amidst the crude and suggestive comments and drawings on the public restroom wall was some soul's attempt to introduce the profound into the profane. "Christ is the answer" was the scrawled message. Someone other, who was a wit by a half, could not refrain from adding, "Really, so what's the question?"
In spite of this attempt at irreverence, the point raised is an important one. It is difficult, especially for the interpreter, to satisfactorily arrive at an answer without knowing the question being asked. Equally important is asking the right question, because if one asks the wrong question of the text then the answer will not coincide with the author's intent. Adding to the difficulty are the layers of tradition and (mis-?) interpretation through which the interpreter must sift in order to ask the most appropriate question.
Paul's letter to the Roman Christians is a prime example of the importance of asking the appropriate question. Interpretations abound over what exactly it is Paul is trying to say. Traditionally, questions are asked of the letter to the Romans, which result in an answer that pits Jewish belief and practice against Christian belief and practice. When asked, "What does Paul mean by the term 'law'?" the answer comes back equating law with legalism and both with Jewish practice, and therefore receiving Paul's condemnation.
What I am suggesting that the interpreter do with today's text is to spend time trying to decipher the question being asked before rushing forward with an answer that may not be the most appropriate for the text. Is the question being addressed one that challenges the law's validity? Not according to Romans 3:31. Is the question one that excludes the Jew from the promises of God? Not according to Romans 4:16. Is the question such that faith is the only thing that matters and that how one expresses that faith (works) is of little consequence? Such an answer would be in conflict with other portions of scripture.
So, what is the question? Let me offer a suggestion (you are of course free to disagree). The question is: Upon what basis is a relationship with God established? The two options Paul considers are faith and works. By "faith" Paul means that unmerited acceptance which God offers an individual based solely on the desire and character of God. By "works" Paul means any individual effort that seeks to establish a quid pro quo arrangement with God.
Paul's example that best illustrates his understanding of faith is the Abraham-God encounter. Abraham was counted as righteous based solely on God's grace -- nothing more, nothing less. Paul's example that illustrates his understanding of works is anyone who relies on obedience to a set of doctrines as the means toward acceptance by God.
Is Paul charging the Jewish faith with a righteousness based on works? I don't think so. Paul is not arguing specific cases of Jew vs. Christian, but is saying that right standing before God for Jew or Gentile is the result of God's grace and that either Jew or Gentile is misguided if they believe that God's favor can in any sense be earned.
God's grace is the answer, but the question really does matter.
John 3:1-17
The story of the encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus is a familiar one. The storyline (with variations) goes like this: Nicodemus, a member of the Jewish ruling council known as the Sanhedrin, came to Jesus under the cover of darkness so as not to be discovered by his co-religionists. He attempts to engage Jesus in conversation, using flattery as an icebreaker. Jesus, who sees through Nicodemus' intentions, cuts through the small talk and raises the central issue of Nicodemus' need for a rebirth. Nicodemus is either innately obtuse or else is pretending not to understand to avoid facing the obvious implications of Jesus' words. So Jesus makes another attempt to explain to Nicodemus what is necessary for entrance into the kingdom of God. Once again Nicodemus seems not to understand and thus betrays not only his own lack of knowledge, but also the intellectual and spiritual bankruptcy of other teachers of Israel (like himself). Finally, Jesus confirms that Nicodemus (and with him the Jewish religion) is spiritually dense. The passage concludes with an affirmation of God's love and a proclamation of God's willingness to receive whomsoever comes to the Divine in the appropriate way.
If this summary appears a bit harsh, I would argue that it is no less harsh than John's intention. Usually the interpreter approaches this text as an honest dialogue between Jesus and a seeker. If so, it seems like a strange way to carry on a conversation. Rather than engaging in communication, Jesus and Nicodemus appear to be talking past each other. And by taking this encounter as an honest dialogue, the interpreter is left to explain the oddities of the text in a somewhat similar way to what I have done above.
I suggest that the interpreter look at this familiar text in an unfamiliar way. Begin with the assumption that John is not presenting an honest dialogue, but a dishonest dialogue. Nicodemus, then, is not a genuine seeker, but rather a foil against whom John is making his theological points. (Another way of looking at this is that if a true seeker is a type, then Nicodemus is an anti-type.) If this is seen, then, as a dishonest dialogue in the way I have suggested, it seems that the interpreter could gain fresh insights by focusing on the dialogue of Nicodemus.
If John were using Nicodemus to represent the negative side of faith, what would be the positive side of faith? Let me offer a few suggestions, which, I hope, will aid your own thinking. Nicodemus begins with a statement (v. 2) affirming God's activity in Jesus' actions. This affirmation is based on the observable "signs" witnessed by Nicodemus and others. Jesus' rebuff might be John's way of saying that reliance on the supernatural is an insufficient basis for faith. The next speech of Nicodemus is in the form of a question (v. 4) challenging the possibility of a re-natal experience. John's point here might be that faith's reality will not always fit neatly within the bounds of the theological or the rational. Nicodemus' final words, again in the form of a question (v. 9), are an expression of bafflement. Perhaps the truth here is that faith that can be explained ceases to be faith.
To consider that John is using dishonest dialogue is not to diminish the story, but simply to ask different questions of a familiar text.
Application
Moses had been leading the Israelite wanderers for almost 40 years and hardly a week had gone by without some element of the people complaining about something. Usually the complaining had to do with either not enough food or an insufficient water supply. When the people complained to Moses, Moses turned to God and God would instruct Moses about what needed to be done. The complaint about a lack of water produced what became a routine response. The people said to Moses, "No water." Moses said to God, "No water." God said to Moses, "Strike the rock with the rod in your hand." Moses struck the rock, water came forth, and everybody was happy.
One day, God changed things up just to see if anyone was paying attention. The people said to Moses, "No water." Moses said to God, "No water." God said to Moses, "Speak to the rock." Moses having been through the drill so many times and knowing the answer before he asked the question, did not listen carefully to God's command and struck the rock. According to the text, Moses' presumption was a pivotal factor in his being forbidden to enter the Promised Land.
Presumption is a cancerous attitude. It was for Moses. It is for the police officers who presume the likelihood of one's guilt or innocence based on racial characteristics. It is for the nationalist who presumes the character of the immigrant or foreigner. It is for husbands and wives who presume the disaffection of the other and begin their own withdrawal based on that presumption. It is for the reader of scripture who approaches a text presuming to know its meaning without engaging in a careful reading of the text.
Presumption is a close cousin to clairvoyance and is about as reliable. Presumption forestalls communication. Presumption renders listening unnecessary. Presumption gives answers before the question is asked.
Because we know the end of Abraham's story from the beginning, we feel no need to live within its mystery. We feel no need to share in its drama. We feel no need to reflect carefully on the text. Our presumptions about the text keep us from realizing that the issues at stake in the text are really issues that speak to the heart of our existence.
Because we presume to know that Paul's theology was one of Jewish rejection and Christian supersessionism, we have no reason to question the text concerning Paul's relationship to his religious heritage. We shape the questions to fit the answers we have presumed to be correct in the first place. The most difficult texts in all of scripture are the ones most familiar to us. The presumptions we make about the "truth" of the text inhibit our freedom to ask creative and fresh questions about the text and prevent us from hearing a new word from God.
Because we have heard the story of Nicodemus so many times we have presumed an understanding of it that may work to hinder the Spirit moving as it chooses within our lives. To question the text anew without the presumption of an answer may lead to a rebirth of heart and mind.
Laying our presumptions aside, let each of us as faithful interpreters approach every text as though we are reading it for the first time. Only then will a true dialogue with the text occur -- only then will we avoid striking the rock of sameness.
Alternative Applications
1) Genesis 12:1-4a: In every community there are ministry needs that go unmet because either no one has recognized the need or having recognized it, no one has done anything about it. One novel approach to this text would focus on God's sending of Abram into the unknown. To give the congregation a flavor of what that sending was all about, the pastor could prepare mission assignments for the congregation, place the written assignments in unmarked letter envelopes and at the end of the sermon, distribute the assignments to each member present. This could be called their Abraham Adventure. During the week the congregants are to journey into the unknown by completing their mission assignments. The following week time could be allotted in the service for members to report back on how God used their call to the unknown to bring about a blessing.
2) Romans 4:1-5, 13-17: In proclamation, oftentimes the concepts of grace and works are pitted against each other. If a Pauline text is used, then grace is emphasized over works. If a James text is used, then works is emphasized. Seldom are these two concepts brought together in a creative tension in one sermon. If our right standing (righteousness) with God is a consequence of God's grace, how is that right standing lived out on a day-by-day basis? If works are a demonstration of faithful obedience to God, is grace no longer a part of the equation? If Paul is unwilling to overthrow the law by means of faith (3:31), what then is the appropriate relationship between the two? A sermon that weds these two biblical concepts with creativity would perform a needed service to a congregation serious about its relationship to God.
3) John 3:1-17: A careful reading of this text reveals that Jesus never gave a direct answer to Nicodemus' questions. If we were the one asking the questions, would we be satisfied with the answers Jesus gave? Was Jesus being purposefully vague? If so, why? Is there something about faith that invites our questions, but leaves us with incomplete answers? Are incomplete answers the nature of faith? Are complete answers in some sense faith inhibitors? Are our strivings after answers acts of faithlessness? What does it mean to live with the ambiguity of God's vague responses to life's questions?
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
Genesis 12:1-4a
"For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:17). From the very beginning of biblical history, God's intention is to save us. That is as true in the Old Testament as it is in the New, and with our text for the morning from Genesis, we find God beginning to fulfill that intention. But why is that salvation necessary?
Genesis 12 has a preface that explains the reason. The preface is made up of the first 11 chapters of Genesis, and in that preface, the Bible tells us a lot about the character of God and of human beings like you and me. It affirms that the Lord created this world "very good." It says that he gave all sorts of wonderful gifts to human beings -- the gifts of beauty and food, of meaningful and creative work, of nature filled with creatures of every kind, and above all, the gifts of joyful human marital relations and of community. Indeed, Genesis 1 even confesses that God created you and me in his own image, to have an unbreakable relationship with him, and then he set us in a world that is sustained in its regular order by his faithfulness.
But the preface found in Genesis 1-11 also tells us that something dreadful happened to God's good creation. We creatures corrupted it. We tried to deny our God-given image and to do without the Lord in running our own lives. So we spoiled every one of God's good gifts -- and we spoil them still today. We turn beauty into ugliness and trash the natural world. In the place of meaningful work, we substitute laborious toil and greed. We break up marital relations and ruin children with infidelity and selfishness. We mar community with power struggles and hatred and war. And we act as if we are autonomous, self-made persons unrelated to our Creator and responsible only for our own deeds and future. Christian doctrine calls that the "fall," our fall into sin, and every single one of us contributes to or participates in that corruption. As a result, every single one of us is also going to die, for "the wages of sin is death" apart from the Creator of life, and all of us have sinned.
As our text for the morning from Genesis 12 begins, however, it tells us about the love of God, for the Lord God will not let us simply perish in our self-made fallen state. He loves us too much for that. And so in about 1750 B.C., our God begins a long history that has as its purpose to save us, to save us from death and the consequences of our sinful foolishness. God begins a history in which he will restore his creation to the goodness that he intended for it and for all of us in the beginning. God calls one man named Abraham, along with his family, out of their home in northern Mesopotamia, and he gives that man a promise. Leave everything behind you, he tells Abraham -- your country, your kin, your lodging, your occupation -- and set out on a journey toward a land that I will show you. Then follows the promise.
"I will make of you a great nation." Now that seems pretty silly, because we are told in a passage just before our text that Abram's wife, Sarai, is barren (Genesis 11:30). Nevertheless, God is going to give an aged Abraham and Sarah many descendants.
"I will make your name great." If we read back in chapter 11, verse 4, we see that the ambition of human beings always has been to make their own name great, and that's always been pretty much our ambition too, has it not -- to have an honored place in our social circle or business or society or nation? But now, in this promise to Abraham, it's only God who can make anyone honored.
"I will bless those who bless you, and him who curses you I will curse." So God is making the destiny of each one of us dependent on our attitude toward his work in Abraham.
"And by you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." And there we come to the nitty-gritty of the whole tale. God has set out to reverse the cursed existence that we have brought on ourselves and our world by our sin. He has begun a history of salvation that will turn the curse into blessing. And he will work out that history through the man named Abraham and his descendants.
It can only be a source of rejoicing for us that the final sentence in our text says, "So Abram went, as the Lord had told him." No questions asked on the part of Abram, no hesitation on his part. As our epistle lesson for the morning says, Abram believed God's word, Abram acted by faith. Goodness only knows what Sarai thought of the whole affair, uprooting the household like that again! And of course nephew Lot got dragged along in the bargain. But "Abram went," and so there starts the long history of God's work toward our salvation.
But to what pains the Lord goes to work salvation for you and me and for our neighbor down the street and indeed for all people! In the stories that follow, the Lord overcomes every obstacle to the working out of his love. He gives a son and then many descendants to an aged Abraham and Sarah, and those children eventually become the 12 tribes of Israel. He delivers Israel when they have fallen into slavery in Egypt. He enters into covenant with them and promises that he will be their God, instructing them how to walk in his covenant law. He feeds and clothes and guides them through the terrors of a desert wilderness. He enables their heirs to cross over the Jordan into a land to call their own. He constantly defends them against their enemies. And he raises up a Davidic king and prophets and priests to lead them. All through the years, the Lord God struggles and defends, admonishes and weeps, forgives and delivers his chosen people, and in every act he reveals what a merciful and loving God he is, manifesting to the world that he is the one true Lord of all.
Finally, in the fullness of time, he takes on the flesh of his Jewish people, doing for them what they never do and cannot do for themselves. In the person of his Son, he dies the death for their sin and then rises victorious over it, granting to every one of us forgiveness and eternal life in his company. Yes, the Lord God took infinite trouble and infinite pain through 17 centuries to bring salvation to his world. And now he simply offers to us, through faith in his work, that salvation.
If God had not called Abraham, you and I would not be sitting in this church this morning. If he were not a God of incredible deeds, none of the history would have taken place. But God acted to save you and me simply because he loves us. He asks now that we trust his love in return.
PREACHING THE PSALM
Psalm 121
This is a hymn of praise. The psalm is easily understandable even without knowing the circumstances of ancient Israel. It straightforwardly says, "The Lord is my helper." Preaching possibilities include:
1) Knowing where our help comes from. A pastor had built a church with a freestanding altar placed so that he could look up through a translucent window, at mountains rising beyond. He said, "Isn't it wonderful to be able to say, 'I lift my eyes to the hills' when I preach and pray?" But he missed the question mark in the Hebrew construction of verse 1. Do I lift up my eyes to the hills that my help should come from there? No. My help comes from the Lord who has made the hills, not from nature itself. The majesty of the natural world can lift our sights, but only God can bring help.
2) Looking for the highest help. The great preacher of an earlier era, Phillips Brooks, preached a sermon on this psalm called "Help from the Hills," which despite its misleading title, urged his hearers to seek their help from the highest place. While acknowledging other sources of help, Brooks, said, "The real relief, the only final comfort, is God" and that we should "refuse to let ourselves be satisfied with any supply but him."
3) Being kept by God. In the NRSV, this psalm uses the word "keep" four times and "keeper" once. It is worthwhile to juxtapose this psalm with Cain's excuse in Genesis 4:9, "Am I my brother's keeper?" What does it show about the character of God that he allows himself to be identified as the keeper of Israel, and by extension, our keeper as well? Another parallel could be drawn to Jesus' identification of himself as the gatekeeper of the sheepfold (John 10:3).
