Our Dilemma And Delight
Sermon
Fringe, Front and Center
Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third)
For the past five Sundays the lectionary has assigned gospels from John. Now the lectionary takes us back to Mark. Five Sundays have stressed divine perfection. This Sunday points up our human imperfection. But a "perfection/imperfection" contrast does not quite express the intense difference which is illustrated between the divine and the human. The Sunday gospels from John were about the irruption of the divine into this world. Today's gospel is about the corruption of humans in the world. Sick at heart, that is the way our Lord describes us. "It is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come." All of us have come apart at the heart, apart from God. Jesus cites the passage from Isaiah: "This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me."
The thrust of this Sunday's teaching, however, is not condemning; it is not critical. Rather it is challenging. It does not so much tell us again what we can't do, but it urges us to realize what we can do. James urges us: "Rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness" (James 1:21). Weeds there are, rank weeds; but we can weed our own patch. In a well-known passage from Ephesians we are told: "Be strong in the Lord ... Take up the whole armor of God so that you may be able to withstand ... to stand firm." We are engaged in "war without" and against "foes within." Within are "enemies of blood and flesh." The war without is against "the wiles of the devil." Reasons enough to put on "the whole armor of God." And back of it all, back of us, is the power of God which will enable us to be sure that we can, indeed, stand firm.
Focus first on the foes within. The heart of our danger is that we tend to be in favor of our foes. That is the significance of the phrases Jesus utters: "Their hearts are far from me" and "Evil intentions come from within, from the human heart." The word "heart" connotes the center of our reason, of our will. What we want, what we desire, what we wish for, these things originate at the center of our existence; they reveal what we are really like at the center of our being. And the heart's desire becomes the hands' deeds: "Fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly -- all these evil things come from within, and they defile a person."
However, we are not only in favor of our foes -- we also fight them. We don't want to do these things that we must confess we do want to do. As confusing as that is, as much as that reveals about our split personalities, it is tremendously good news. What is good about it is that it reveals how close God has deliberately come to our human hearts that are far from him. Paul described our dilemma and our delight in his own case like this: "I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own action. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing that I hate." Our dilemma. Now our delight. "I delight in the law of God in my inmost self ... Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Romans 7:14-25). Our dilemma -- a heart in us defiled. Our delight -- a heart devoted to God who has rescued us.
Think again of how the dilemma of our evil desiring has been bracketed by our delight in the law of God. We can't think of what God has done for us as a heart transplant. Like a person who has had a heart attack, we live on with a permanently damaged center of our will. How can we describe what God has done for us through Jesus Christ our Lord? God performed his own divine heart transplant. God conceived a human heart into himself, into the divine Being, when the Son of God was conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the virgin Mary. But as much like us as Jesus was when he was born, when he grew up, even when he died, he was completely different at the heart of his matter, at the center of his being. He was without sin. He had no heart problem. He was God's delight, with none of sinful humanity's dilemma.
What could God in Christ do then to make us different? Think of us as realistically, as physically, as Jesus described us. In words which the lectionary skips, he speaks of what we eat going into our stomachs and out into the sewer. Equally blunt language can best describe our inner defilement. We were defiled in the very gut of our being. With such a diagnosis of our sick selves, what would be the prescription for our cure? If we could only turn ourselves inside out, if only all our defilement within could be flushed out, if our sin could be removed and we be given a new "delight in the law of God in our inmost self," if only the prayer could be answered, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me."
Behold the Man! "Ecce Homo." Pilate's words point us to God's solution. Jesus was whole man, was holy as man. And Jesus opened himself up completely. He fully revealed his inmost being to us. He turned himself inside out for us. By what he did as by what he said, he revealed to us what life should be like, revealed to us the perfect life. But more than that. A "model of the godly life," an example of perfect living by itself would only underscore our dilemma and drive us to despair. God's solution was that the Savior would also be "a sacrifice for sin." We cannot adequately explain to ourselves how a perfect life and an undeserved death could take the place of our millions of imperfect lives and deserved deaths. God is the one owed, and God has agreed to the coin. To replace our inner defilement, our Savior turned his nature inside out for us. He made himself to be sin for us, though he had no sin. Then God-in-Christ let all the inner evil of humanity happen to him. The sins he warned us against were turned against him. "The things that come out are what defile," he said. Those sins came out of those who rose up against Jesus. They did not defile him, they did not destroy him, they did not deter him, but they terribly damaged him, they caused his death. Number them, name them, and remember how they struck mortal blows against him. The folly! "You killed the prince of life!" The pride! "Prophesy to us! Hail, King of the Jews!" The slander: "We found this man perverting our nation." The envy: even Pilate realized that "it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over." The licentiousness! They accused him, "This man is a glutton and a wine bibber." The deceit: "Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard his blasphemy!" The wickedness, the avarice, the adultery, the fornication, the theft -- all the sins of all the world of all the ages -- he took the death wage of our sins upon himself. The murder: Pilate said to them, "What do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?" They shouted back, "Crucify him!" Then the Roman soldiers took him to Golgatha, and they crucified him.
Then, of course, the resurrection! No! Not "of course." He, this Jesus, fought to the death "the rulers, the authorities, the cosmic power of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" and he "quenched all the flaming arrows of the evil one" (Ephesians 6:12-16). What seemed at first to his despairing disciples to be a Pyrrhic victory, one that took the Lord's life as he tried to save our lives, turned out to be a cosmic victory. God re-created his own world. His was the ultimate "generous act of giving." This perfect gift of forgiven life was given to us "from above, coming down from the Father of lights." Nor was it an abstract gift existing as some sort of accounting ploy, some use of double accounting books. No -- it was a gift given to each of us. "He gave us birth by the word of truth so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures" (James 1:17-18).
It was God's way of solving our dilemma. Our hearts were far from him. In Christ Jesus God came very near to us. We are near to the heart of God. God raised Jesus from the dead, his glorified heart began beating again, and he drew near to us anew. He remains with us always. We are in Christ. Christ abides in us. His heart is so close even our feeble hearts are no longer far from God. For the giant foes that remain for us to fight, he equips us with "the whole armor of God" -- and it fits! We can fight the good fight, fight in the "war without" and against the "foes within."
With high delight
Let us unite
In songs of sweet jubilation.
You pure in heart,
Each take your part,
Sing Jesus Christ,
Our salvation!
("With High Delight Let Us Unite" by Georg Vetter)
Nor has God failed to provision his armed followers. God knows his army travels on heavenly food.
The thrust of this Sunday's teaching, however, is not condemning; it is not critical. Rather it is challenging. It does not so much tell us again what we can't do, but it urges us to realize what we can do. James urges us: "Rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness" (James 1:21). Weeds there are, rank weeds; but we can weed our own patch. In a well-known passage from Ephesians we are told: "Be strong in the Lord ... Take up the whole armor of God so that you may be able to withstand ... to stand firm." We are engaged in "war without" and against "foes within." Within are "enemies of blood and flesh." The war without is against "the wiles of the devil." Reasons enough to put on "the whole armor of God." And back of it all, back of us, is the power of God which will enable us to be sure that we can, indeed, stand firm.
Focus first on the foes within. The heart of our danger is that we tend to be in favor of our foes. That is the significance of the phrases Jesus utters: "Their hearts are far from me" and "Evil intentions come from within, from the human heart." The word "heart" connotes the center of our reason, of our will. What we want, what we desire, what we wish for, these things originate at the center of our existence; they reveal what we are really like at the center of our being. And the heart's desire becomes the hands' deeds: "Fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly -- all these evil things come from within, and they defile a person."
However, we are not only in favor of our foes -- we also fight them. We don't want to do these things that we must confess we do want to do. As confusing as that is, as much as that reveals about our split personalities, it is tremendously good news. What is good about it is that it reveals how close God has deliberately come to our human hearts that are far from him. Paul described our dilemma and our delight in his own case like this: "I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own action. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing that I hate." Our dilemma. Now our delight. "I delight in the law of God in my inmost self ... Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Romans 7:14-25). Our dilemma -- a heart in us defiled. Our delight -- a heart devoted to God who has rescued us.
Think again of how the dilemma of our evil desiring has been bracketed by our delight in the law of God. We can't think of what God has done for us as a heart transplant. Like a person who has had a heart attack, we live on with a permanently damaged center of our will. How can we describe what God has done for us through Jesus Christ our Lord? God performed his own divine heart transplant. God conceived a human heart into himself, into the divine Being, when the Son of God was conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the virgin Mary. But as much like us as Jesus was when he was born, when he grew up, even when he died, he was completely different at the heart of his matter, at the center of his being. He was without sin. He had no heart problem. He was God's delight, with none of sinful humanity's dilemma.
What could God in Christ do then to make us different? Think of us as realistically, as physically, as Jesus described us. In words which the lectionary skips, he speaks of what we eat going into our stomachs and out into the sewer. Equally blunt language can best describe our inner defilement. We were defiled in the very gut of our being. With such a diagnosis of our sick selves, what would be the prescription for our cure? If we could only turn ourselves inside out, if only all our defilement within could be flushed out, if our sin could be removed and we be given a new "delight in the law of God in our inmost self," if only the prayer could be answered, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me."
Behold the Man! "Ecce Homo." Pilate's words point us to God's solution. Jesus was whole man, was holy as man. And Jesus opened himself up completely. He fully revealed his inmost being to us. He turned himself inside out for us. By what he did as by what he said, he revealed to us what life should be like, revealed to us the perfect life. But more than that. A "model of the godly life," an example of perfect living by itself would only underscore our dilemma and drive us to despair. God's solution was that the Savior would also be "a sacrifice for sin." We cannot adequately explain to ourselves how a perfect life and an undeserved death could take the place of our millions of imperfect lives and deserved deaths. God is the one owed, and God has agreed to the coin. To replace our inner defilement, our Savior turned his nature inside out for us. He made himself to be sin for us, though he had no sin. Then God-in-Christ let all the inner evil of humanity happen to him. The sins he warned us against were turned against him. "The things that come out are what defile," he said. Those sins came out of those who rose up against Jesus. They did not defile him, they did not destroy him, they did not deter him, but they terribly damaged him, they caused his death. Number them, name them, and remember how they struck mortal blows against him. The folly! "You killed the prince of life!" The pride! "Prophesy to us! Hail, King of the Jews!" The slander: "We found this man perverting our nation." The envy: even Pilate realized that "it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over." The licentiousness! They accused him, "This man is a glutton and a wine bibber." The deceit: "Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard his blasphemy!" The wickedness, the avarice, the adultery, the fornication, the theft -- all the sins of all the world of all the ages -- he took the death wage of our sins upon himself. The murder: Pilate said to them, "What do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?" They shouted back, "Crucify him!" Then the Roman soldiers took him to Golgatha, and they crucified him.
Then, of course, the resurrection! No! Not "of course." He, this Jesus, fought to the death "the rulers, the authorities, the cosmic power of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" and he "quenched all the flaming arrows of the evil one" (Ephesians 6:12-16). What seemed at first to his despairing disciples to be a Pyrrhic victory, one that took the Lord's life as he tried to save our lives, turned out to be a cosmic victory. God re-created his own world. His was the ultimate "generous act of giving." This perfect gift of forgiven life was given to us "from above, coming down from the Father of lights." Nor was it an abstract gift existing as some sort of accounting ploy, some use of double accounting books. No -- it was a gift given to each of us. "He gave us birth by the word of truth so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures" (James 1:17-18).
It was God's way of solving our dilemma. Our hearts were far from him. In Christ Jesus God came very near to us. We are near to the heart of God. God raised Jesus from the dead, his glorified heart began beating again, and he drew near to us anew. He remains with us always. We are in Christ. Christ abides in us. His heart is so close even our feeble hearts are no longer far from God. For the giant foes that remain for us to fight, he equips us with "the whole armor of God" -- and it fits! We can fight the good fight, fight in the "war without" and against the "foes within."
With high delight
Let us unite
In songs of sweet jubilation.
You pure in heart,
Each take your part,
Sing Jesus Christ,
Our salvation!
("With High Delight Let Us Unite" by Georg Vetter)
Nor has God failed to provision his armed followers. God knows his army travels on heavenly food.
