Proper 7/Pentecost 5/Ordinary Time 12
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VII, Cycle C
Object:
Theme For The Day
The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of freedom.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Kings 19:1-4 (5-7) 8-15a
Elijah Struggles With Burnout
Not long after vanquishing the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel (see 1 Kings 18:20-39, the reading for Proper 4), Elijah finds himself on the run from the soldiers of the enraged Queen Jezebel, patroness of the Baal prophets. He collapses in despair under a broom tree, and asks God to take his life. Twice angels come to him and offer him food, to strengthen him for the journey that awaits. Strengthened by the angels' food, Elijah travels forty days and forty nights to Mount Horeb, which of course is where God had given Moses the law. Evidently he is seeking to return to the very source of the faith, to find a way out of his despair. It is in a small cave on the side of Mount Horeb that Elijah meets God -- and God does not seem too pleased that he is there. "What are you doing here?" God asks (v. 9). Elijah responds with a rather self-possessed lament (v. 10). The Lord responds by directing Elijah to stand outside, after which God passes by, bringing earthquake, wind, and fire. After these fearsome manifestations of power, Elijah experiences something the NRSV translates as "a sound of sheer silence" (vv. 11-12). Again, God asks Elijah what he is doing there, Elijah responds with the same sob story, and God assures him that he is not the only faithful one left in Israel. God commands Elijah to return to his prophetic work. In an almost comical way, Elijah continues to miss obvious signs of God's supportive presence, until God has no choice but to awe him with a display of signs he simply could not miss. This is a parable for all who worry that they may be "burning out" in their chosen vocation: the message is, things are never as bad as they think. Elijah was looking for a thundering theophany such as the Lord used to deliver with some regularity in former days. His experience of the "sound of sheer silence" is typical of the sort of quiet theophany we are more likely to experience.
New Testament Lesson
Galatians 3:23-29
All Are One In Christ Jesus
Why do Christians need the law? It's a fair question, in light of justification by grace through faith. Paul answers that question in this passage. "The law was our disciplinarian until Christ came," restricting and confining a recalcitrant people (v. 24). ("Disciplinarian" is paidagogos, or pedagogue -- a specialized sort of Greek slave, usually an older man, who would serve as a guardian for well-to-do children, escorting them to school and keeping them out of serious trouble.) Yet now that Christ has come, we are all "children of God through faith" (v. 26) -- we have attained that degree of maturity in which a disciplinarian is no longer needed. Furthermore, there is no longer any qualitative division among us. "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ" (v. 27). Like the newly baptized who donned new clothing on the other side of the baptismal pool, we have taken on a whole new way of being human. The old labels -- Jew, Greek, slave, free, male, female -- no longer make any difference (v. 28). All who belong to Christ are heirs of Abraham (v. 29).
The Gospel
Luke 8:26-39
Jesus Heals The Gerasene Demoniac
In the country of the Gerasenes (a Gentile Greek territory), Jesus is approached by a raving madman, who lives a tortured existence among the tombs. The demon who possesses this man immediately recognizes Jesus, and shouts out, addressing him as "Son of the Most High God" (v. 28). This is a title no one else has yet used of Jesus; presumably, the demon knows who he really is. Jesus asks the demon his name, and he responds "Legion" (for in fact, the man is possessed by many demons). Jesus commands the demons to enter a nearby herd of pigs, and they rush over a cliff into a lake and are drowned (v. 33). Summoned by the bewildered swineherds, the local populace gathers, and is amazed to see the healed madman clothed and in his right mind. The crowd, fearful of Jesus' power, asks him to leave their country, but the former madman continues to testify to what Jesus has done for him (vv. 37-39). According to Jewish Law (which, as a Gentile, did not apply to him -- although it would have been familiar enough to Luke's readers) the madman was unclean on many levels: he was a Gentile, he was mad, he lived naked and homeless among the tombs, he lived near a herd of pigs. Not only does this story demonstrate Jesus' power over the forces of evil, but it also makes the point that no one is irredeemable, beyond the reach of his healing touch. Thus, it foreshadows the eventual mission to the Gentiles.
Preaching Possibilities
It's a tradition at many colleges and universities. When the graduation ceremonies are ended, the senior class president, or some other student leader, stands up before the crowd, removes the mortarboard cap from his or her head, and hurls it into the air. Moments later, the entire senior class follows suit. Suddenly, arcing through the air, is a cloud of academic caps, like so many huge pieces of confetti.
Freedom! It's what the seniors are celebrating. Freedom is a theme that runs right down the middle of graduations -- freedom from school and its rules, freedom to step out and make your own way in the world, freedom to do whatever you want to do.
In today's New Testament Lesson, Paul speaks of a certain sort of freedom. He says that, before faith came, we were imprisoned -- by the law. The law was our disciplinarian.
That's the word the NRSV uses. Other translations have used the word "tutor" or "teacher." Yet the Greek word on which all these translations are based has a very particular meaning. The word is paidagagos.
Scrabble players or crossword puzzle fans may recognize that word. It's come over directly into the English language as the word "pedagogue." But we should be careful here: Paul doesn't mean the same thing by the word as we do today. Look up "pedagogue" in a dictionary, and you'll find that its modern meaning is listed as "teacher." Yet in the ancient Greek world, a pedagogue was not a teacher, but a slave.
The job of the pedagogue was to serve as overseer and moral guide for a young, upper-class boy (in Greek society, it was only the boys who were educated). And only the oldest, most trusted of slaves was set apart for this "pedagogical" duty. The pedagogue didn't teach anything, in a formal sense -- not reading and writing, or any other subject. Most pedagogues didn't even know how to read. Their job was to watch over the young boy, to keep him out of trouble. The pedagogue was something like a male nanny or governess. He was a moral authority, a guide, a companion.
Yet, this relationship was not forever. There came a time, in the life of every well-to-do Greek boy, when he had to leave the pedagogue behind. There came a time for spreading his wings, for venturing into the world, for making his own mistakes, for a change. The ancient Greek students, at the conclusion of their studies, didn't throw caps into the air with a big war-whoop, but surely they must have felt the same sense of release as today's graduates. Their day of independence was just as much a rite of passage, a moment of exhilarating freedom.
In Galatians 3, Paul teaches that our relationship to the law requires the same kind of liberation. Paul knows there are some in the Galatian church who are preaching that the way to become a Christian is through a kind of super-obedience -- to become so learned in the law of Moses, and in the teachings of Jesus, that you approach, one day, a state of moral perfection.
Paul has no patience for this. He says to the Galatians that the law is like that childhood servant, the pedagogue. Christians have got to leave dependence on the law behind them, if they are to attain spiritual maturity. Not that the law isn't to be honored and respected -- it's still the only foundation for right living. Yet there is a difference between respect for the law and legalism. The Christian gospel is a gospel of freedom. It's throwing your cap into the air!
There are times we all fall into legalism -- when our lives become an unhealthy mass of "oughts" and "shoulds," when we feel hemmed in by impossible expectations (our own or someone else's). Sometimes the voice of some authority figure from the past echoes so loudly in our heads -- even well into adulthood -- that we have little real freedom.
We may even attribute this authoritarian voice to God, or rather, to our peculiar impression of what God is like -- a great police officer in the sky, waiting to punish all wrongdoing. The Bible tells us "God is love," but there's not much that seems loving about a cruel and capricious God, the flinger of thunderbolts. Paul's purpose in writing this Galatians passage is to set us free from all that.
We are "heirs according to the promise," Paul says. We have been adopted into the family of God. May we all come to claim our position in the family, recognizing that we are freed to live!
Prayer For The Day
The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure,
enduring for ever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
and drippings of the honeycomb.
-- Psalm 19:7-10
To Illustrate
One place where many of us need liberation from the law is our relationship with money. There's hardly any other area of life that is so burdened with legalism as this one. Just look at some of the questions people ask about Christian stewardship:
• What am I expected to give?
• Isn't ten percent too much to give? Shouldn't we take care of the needs at home first?
• Is a tithe before or after taxes?
• What guarantees do I have that the money will be used for exactly what our church leaders say it will be used for?
Good questions, all -- and they need to be asked. But they are all questions that have to do with rules and regulations, with "shoulds" and "oughts." If only we could be free to make our giving decisions without first trying to assess what the law compels us to do! If only we could learn to give from the heart!
***
In the popular religious consciousness, the Ten Commandments have somehow become burdens, weights, and heavy obligations. For many, the commandments are encumbrances placed on personal behavior. Most people cannot name all ten, but they are persuaded that at the center of each one is a finger wagging "thou shalt not." For others, the commandments are heavy yokes to be publicly placed on the necks of a rebellious society.... We've forgotten that the Babylonians' gods were heavy idols that had to be trucked around. "These things you carry," Isaiah jabbed, "are loaded as burdens on weary animals" (Isaiah 46:1).
Understanding the Decalogue as a set of burdens overlooks something essential, namely that they are prefaced not by an order -- "Here are ten rules. Obey them!" -- but instead by a breathtaking announcement of freedom: "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (Exodus 20:2). We will probably always refer to the declarations that follow as the "Ten Commandments," but we can also think of them as descriptions of the life that prevails in the zone of God's liberation. "Because the Lord is your God," the Decalogue affirms, "you are free not to need any other gods. You are free to rest on the seventh day; free from the tyranny of lifeless idols; free from murder, stealing, and covetousness as ways to establish yourself in the land."
The Decalogue begins with the good news of what the liberating God has done and then describes the shape of the freedom that results. If we want to symbolize the presence of the Ten Commandments among us, we would do well to hold a dance. The good news of the God who set people free is the music; the commandments are the dance steps of those who hear it playing. The commandments are not weights, but wings that enable our hearts to catch the wind of God's Spirit and to soar. As Luther wisely advised, 'With practice one can take the Ten Commandments on one day, a psalm or chapter of Holy Scripture the next day, and use them as flint and steel to kindle a flame in the heart.' "
-- Thomas G. Long, "Living By the Word," in the Christian Century, March 7, 2006
***
It's the supreme art of the devil that he can make the law out of the gospel.
-- Martin Luther
***
New Testament scholar, Ernst Kasemann, shares a story at the beginning of his book, Jesus Means Freedom. The story is about a Dutch parish, in which the people felt strictly bound to obey God's commandments, and therefore to keep the sabbath holy. One Sunday, a storm came, threatening the dike that held the seawater out. Clearly, something had to be done to strengthen the dike, and it couldn't wait until Monday.
The local police went to the pastor for his opinion on the question. He found himself in a dilemma: Should he call out the people of the parish, and set them to the necessary work, if it meant profaning the sabbath? Finding the burden of decision making too much for him, he summoned the church council to issue a ruling.
The debate ebbed and flowed, but in the end this argument prevailed: "We live to carry out God's will. God -- being omnipotent -- can choose to perform a miracle with the wind and waves. Our duty is obedience, whether in life or in death."
The pastor then reminded the council how Jesus himself had broken the fourth commandment when his disciples needed to pick grain in order to eat. The Lord declared, on that occasion, that the sabbath is made for humankind, not humankind for the sabbath.
Whereupon a venerable old man stood up, and said, "I have always been troubled, pastor, by something that I have never yet ventured to say publicly. Now I must say it. I have always had the feeling that our Lord Jesus was just a bit of a liberal."
The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of freedom.
Old Testament Lesson
1 Kings 19:1-4 (5-7) 8-15a
Elijah Struggles With Burnout
Not long after vanquishing the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel (see 1 Kings 18:20-39, the reading for Proper 4), Elijah finds himself on the run from the soldiers of the enraged Queen Jezebel, patroness of the Baal prophets. He collapses in despair under a broom tree, and asks God to take his life. Twice angels come to him and offer him food, to strengthen him for the journey that awaits. Strengthened by the angels' food, Elijah travels forty days and forty nights to Mount Horeb, which of course is where God had given Moses the law. Evidently he is seeking to return to the very source of the faith, to find a way out of his despair. It is in a small cave on the side of Mount Horeb that Elijah meets God -- and God does not seem too pleased that he is there. "What are you doing here?" God asks (v. 9). Elijah responds with a rather self-possessed lament (v. 10). The Lord responds by directing Elijah to stand outside, after which God passes by, bringing earthquake, wind, and fire. After these fearsome manifestations of power, Elijah experiences something the NRSV translates as "a sound of sheer silence" (vv. 11-12). Again, God asks Elijah what he is doing there, Elijah responds with the same sob story, and God assures him that he is not the only faithful one left in Israel. God commands Elijah to return to his prophetic work. In an almost comical way, Elijah continues to miss obvious signs of God's supportive presence, until God has no choice but to awe him with a display of signs he simply could not miss. This is a parable for all who worry that they may be "burning out" in their chosen vocation: the message is, things are never as bad as they think. Elijah was looking for a thundering theophany such as the Lord used to deliver with some regularity in former days. His experience of the "sound of sheer silence" is typical of the sort of quiet theophany we are more likely to experience.
New Testament Lesson
Galatians 3:23-29
All Are One In Christ Jesus
Why do Christians need the law? It's a fair question, in light of justification by grace through faith. Paul answers that question in this passage. "The law was our disciplinarian until Christ came," restricting and confining a recalcitrant people (v. 24). ("Disciplinarian" is paidagogos, or pedagogue -- a specialized sort of Greek slave, usually an older man, who would serve as a guardian for well-to-do children, escorting them to school and keeping them out of serious trouble.) Yet now that Christ has come, we are all "children of God through faith" (v. 26) -- we have attained that degree of maturity in which a disciplinarian is no longer needed. Furthermore, there is no longer any qualitative division among us. "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ" (v. 27). Like the newly baptized who donned new clothing on the other side of the baptismal pool, we have taken on a whole new way of being human. The old labels -- Jew, Greek, slave, free, male, female -- no longer make any difference (v. 28). All who belong to Christ are heirs of Abraham (v. 29).
The Gospel
Luke 8:26-39
Jesus Heals The Gerasene Demoniac
In the country of the Gerasenes (a Gentile Greek territory), Jesus is approached by a raving madman, who lives a tortured existence among the tombs. The demon who possesses this man immediately recognizes Jesus, and shouts out, addressing him as "Son of the Most High God" (v. 28). This is a title no one else has yet used of Jesus; presumably, the demon knows who he really is. Jesus asks the demon his name, and he responds "Legion" (for in fact, the man is possessed by many demons). Jesus commands the demons to enter a nearby herd of pigs, and they rush over a cliff into a lake and are drowned (v. 33). Summoned by the bewildered swineherds, the local populace gathers, and is amazed to see the healed madman clothed and in his right mind. The crowd, fearful of Jesus' power, asks him to leave their country, but the former madman continues to testify to what Jesus has done for him (vv. 37-39). According to Jewish Law (which, as a Gentile, did not apply to him -- although it would have been familiar enough to Luke's readers) the madman was unclean on many levels: he was a Gentile, he was mad, he lived naked and homeless among the tombs, he lived near a herd of pigs. Not only does this story demonstrate Jesus' power over the forces of evil, but it also makes the point that no one is irredeemable, beyond the reach of his healing touch. Thus, it foreshadows the eventual mission to the Gentiles.
Preaching Possibilities
It's a tradition at many colleges and universities. When the graduation ceremonies are ended, the senior class president, or some other student leader, stands up before the crowd, removes the mortarboard cap from his or her head, and hurls it into the air. Moments later, the entire senior class follows suit. Suddenly, arcing through the air, is a cloud of academic caps, like so many huge pieces of confetti.
Freedom! It's what the seniors are celebrating. Freedom is a theme that runs right down the middle of graduations -- freedom from school and its rules, freedom to step out and make your own way in the world, freedom to do whatever you want to do.
In today's New Testament Lesson, Paul speaks of a certain sort of freedom. He says that, before faith came, we were imprisoned -- by the law. The law was our disciplinarian.
That's the word the NRSV uses. Other translations have used the word "tutor" or "teacher." Yet the Greek word on which all these translations are based has a very particular meaning. The word is paidagagos.
Scrabble players or crossword puzzle fans may recognize that word. It's come over directly into the English language as the word "pedagogue." But we should be careful here: Paul doesn't mean the same thing by the word as we do today. Look up "pedagogue" in a dictionary, and you'll find that its modern meaning is listed as "teacher." Yet in the ancient Greek world, a pedagogue was not a teacher, but a slave.
The job of the pedagogue was to serve as overseer and moral guide for a young, upper-class boy (in Greek society, it was only the boys who were educated). And only the oldest, most trusted of slaves was set apart for this "pedagogical" duty. The pedagogue didn't teach anything, in a formal sense -- not reading and writing, or any other subject. Most pedagogues didn't even know how to read. Their job was to watch over the young boy, to keep him out of trouble. The pedagogue was something like a male nanny or governess. He was a moral authority, a guide, a companion.
Yet, this relationship was not forever. There came a time, in the life of every well-to-do Greek boy, when he had to leave the pedagogue behind. There came a time for spreading his wings, for venturing into the world, for making his own mistakes, for a change. The ancient Greek students, at the conclusion of their studies, didn't throw caps into the air with a big war-whoop, but surely they must have felt the same sense of release as today's graduates. Their day of independence was just as much a rite of passage, a moment of exhilarating freedom.
In Galatians 3, Paul teaches that our relationship to the law requires the same kind of liberation. Paul knows there are some in the Galatian church who are preaching that the way to become a Christian is through a kind of super-obedience -- to become so learned in the law of Moses, and in the teachings of Jesus, that you approach, one day, a state of moral perfection.
Paul has no patience for this. He says to the Galatians that the law is like that childhood servant, the pedagogue. Christians have got to leave dependence on the law behind them, if they are to attain spiritual maturity. Not that the law isn't to be honored and respected -- it's still the only foundation for right living. Yet there is a difference between respect for the law and legalism. The Christian gospel is a gospel of freedom. It's throwing your cap into the air!
There are times we all fall into legalism -- when our lives become an unhealthy mass of "oughts" and "shoulds," when we feel hemmed in by impossible expectations (our own or someone else's). Sometimes the voice of some authority figure from the past echoes so loudly in our heads -- even well into adulthood -- that we have little real freedom.
We may even attribute this authoritarian voice to God, or rather, to our peculiar impression of what God is like -- a great police officer in the sky, waiting to punish all wrongdoing. The Bible tells us "God is love," but there's not much that seems loving about a cruel and capricious God, the flinger of thunderbolts. Paul's purpose in writing this Galatians passage is to set us free from all that.
We are "heirs according to the promise," Paul says. We have been adopted into the family of God. May we all come to claim our position in the family, recognizing that we are freed to live!
Prayer For The Day
The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure,
enduring for ever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
and drippings of the honeycomb.
-- Psalm 19:7-10
To Illustrate
One place where many of us need liberation from the law is our relationship with money. There's hardly any other area of life that is so burdened with legalism as this one. Just look at some of the questions people ask about Christian stewardship:
• What am I expected to give?
• Isn't ten percent too much to give? Shouldn't we take care of the needs at home first?
• Is a tithe before or after taxes?
• What guarantees do I have that the money will be used for exactly what our church leaders say it will be used for?
Good questions, all -- and they need to be asked. But they are all questions that have to do with rules and regulations, with "shoulds" and "oughts." If only we could be free to make our giving decisions without first trying to assess what the law compels us to do! If only we could learn to give from the heart!
***
In the popular religious consciousness, the Ten Commandments have somehow become burdens, weights, and heavy obligations. For many, the commandments are encumbrances placed on personal behavior. Most people cannot name all ten, but they are persuaded that at the center of each one is a finger wagging "thou shalt not." For others, the commandments are heavy yokes to be publicly placed on the necks of a rebellious society.... We've forgotten that the Babylonians' gods were heavy idols that had to be trucked around. "These things you carry," Isaiah jabbed, "are loaded as burdens on weary animals" (Isaiah 46:1).
Understanding the Decalogue as a set of burdens overlooks something essential, namely that they are prefaced not by an order -- "Here are ten rules. Obey them!" -- but instead by a breathtaking announcement of freedom: "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (Exodus 20:2). We will probably always refer to the declarations that follow as the "Ten Commandments," but we can also think of them as descriptions of the life that prevails in the zone of God's liberation. "Because the Lord is your God," the Decalogue affirms, "you are free not to need any other gods. You are free to rest on the seventh day; free from the tyranny of lifeless idols; free from murder, stealing, and covetousness as ways to establish yourself in the land."
The Decalogue begins with the good news of what the liberating God has done and then describes the shape of the freedom that results. If we want to symbolize the presence of the Ten Commandments among us, we would do well to hold a dance. The good news of the God who set people free is the music; the commandments are the dance steps of those who hear it playing. The commandments are not weights, but wings that enable our hearts to catch the wind of God's Spirit and to soar. As Luther wisely advised, 'With practice one can take the Ten Commandments on one day, a psalm or chapter of Holy Scripture the next day, and use them as flint and steel to kindle a flame in the heart.' "
-- Thomas G. Long, "Living By the Word," in the Christian Century, March 7, 2006
***
It's the supreme art of the devil that he can make the law out of the gospel.
-- Martin Luther
***
New Testament scholar, Ernst Kasemann, shares a story at the beginning of his book, Jesus Means Freedom. The story is about a Dutch parish, in which the people felt strictly bound to obey God's commandments, and therefore to keep the sabbath holy. One Sunday, a storm came, threatening the dike that held the seawater out. Clearly, something had to be done to strengthen the dike, and it couldn't wait until Monday.
The local police went to the pastor for his opinion on the question. He found himself in a dilemma: Should he call out the people of the parish, and set them to the necessary work, if it meant profaning the sabbath? Finding the burden of decision making too much for him, he summoned the church council to issue a ruling.
The debate ebbed and flowed, but in the end this argument prevailed: "We live to carry out God's will. God -- being omnipotent -- can choose to perform a miracle with the wind and waves. Our duty is obedience, whether in life or in death."
The pastor then reminded the council how Jesus himself had broken the fourth commandment when his disciples needed to pick grain in order to eat. The Lord declared, on that occasion, that the sabbath is made for humankind, not humankind for the sabbath.
Whereupon a venerable old man stood up, and said, "I have always been troubled, pastor, by something that I have never yet ventured to say publicly. Now I must say it. I have always had the feeling that our Lord Jesus was just a bit of a liberal."
