Religion Without Guile
Sermon
A God For This World
Gospel Sermons For Advent/Christmas/Epiphany
It was one of those delightful stories out of the American Frontier. Many Easterners are unaware of the formative influences of the American Frontier as chronicled in the writings of many historians, especially those of Frederick Jackson Turner.
Very often immigrants to the eastern part of the country clustered first in the ghetto, and then with mastery of English or new skills, gradually moved out of the ghetto and sometimes to the suburbs -- but often not "Out West" -- meaning anything west of the Hudson River. Chicago was out there somewhere and not far beyond it lay San Francisco. And in between were mostly cowboys and Indians, sod huts and American Gothic farmers.
The classic magazine cover of The New Yorker depicting the average New Yorker's vision of America said it beautifully. Beyond the Hudson was Chicago, and in the distance a skyscraper of San Francisco, with little in between!
But for most Americans the frontier was a formative influence. Leaving behind the support of one's own group, advancing into vast spaces and developing a strong sense of self-reliance and independence, coupled with a radical egalitarianism, many Americans owe much to the "frontier experience."
That was also true in religion. Many had left behind particular denominations of their "old world" country. The denominational divisions of the past, often based on national, ethnic, linguistic, and regional rivalries, seemed irrelevant in the vast regions of the new world frontier. But religion itself was not irrelevant. Instead, America was greatly influenced by the Great Awakening of the 1700s led by Congregationalism's Jonathan Edwards and Methodism's George Whitefield.
And in the 1800s, revivalism swept across all of America -- from Brooklyn on to the far reaches of the Midwest and West. Religious revivals and theological debates abounded. Religious enthusiasm and intellectual inquiry seemed to go hand in hand.
One delightful story comes out of the American Midwest of the early 1800s. One man, called to enter the ministry, prepared himself with the requisite philosophical, Biblical, historical, and theological studies. The time came for him to be ordained. And after he had presented his required theological position paper, the austere ordination committee interrogated him intensely.
They especially wanted to know more about his views on the Trinity -- the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. They were unclear about his beliefs and wanted him to be more specific and precise.
The ministerial candidate was in a dilemma, because he knew his views on the Trinity did not agree with the orthodox teachings of that denomination. He knew that if he spoke somewhat ambiguously and abstractly, embroidering here and there, he might be able to pass the examination. On the other hand, he knew if he told them what he really believed, they would disqualify him for the ministry.
This was his dilemma. Should he tell a lie and be ordained, or should he tell the truth and be kicked out? He chose the latter, and was indeed kicked out. He decided upon a religion without guile, a religion without deceit or hypocrisy, a religion without deception or falsehood. He opted to stand by his convictions of truth and be rejected, rather than falsifying his beliefs for the sake of acceptance. (By the way, he was later ordained in a denomination which espoused more intellectual liberty.)
Most all of us, in one way or another, have faced similar dilemmas. Should we tell the truth and be kicked out, or support the lie and remain in? Should we express our doubts openly and risk censure, or just cross our fingers when we say the creeds and remain approved? Should we blow the whistle on fraud and deception in religion or business, government or profession? Or should we just go along with the corruption everyone knows about so as not to disturb the status quo? And should we not, of all things, expect religion to be without guile? Of course we should.
I
A religion without guile will have the courage to stand for the truth.
That may be what attracted Jesus to Nathanael, a man he described as an Israelite with no guile, no deceit or fraud or hypocrisy. Only John's Gospel mentions Nathanael, whose name means "gift of God." And at first glance, Nathanael comes off as a bit of a snob.
When asked by Philip to come meet Jesus of Nazareth, whom they believed was the Messiah, Nathanael scoffed with the bias of his fellow citizens of Cana (a rival city of Nazareth), saying, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" And rather than argue with Nathanael, Philip merely replies, "Come and see."
The other officially religious people of his time, as depicted by John's Gospel, were not nearly as ready to explore new truth. Content in their traditions and self-righteous in their conclusions, they presumed they knew all the essential truth. So they were not receptive to Jesus or his teachings. But Nathanael was -- an Israelite in whom there was no self-justifying deceptiveness, no guile.
Jesus saw Nathanael sitting under the fig tree -- a place where rabbis and others often sat to study, to meditate, to pray for the messianic age, and to teach. With divine intuition, Jesus perceives him to be a seeker, a man open to new truth, a person willing to face the future with the courage of his convictions. Rather than perpetuate the fraud of commonly accepted lies and delusions, Nathanael had courage to move on to new truths and convictions.
Charles Krauthammer, a popular author and essayist for Time magazine, wrote recently of his experience upon being admitted to the hospital. After the usual questions in the admitting office, he was asked his religious preference. Of course, the hospital wanted to know whether to call a minister, priest, rabbi, or mullah in case of emergency, said Krauthammer. But it struck him that many people think of religion in that way -- as a matter of preference rather than conviction, as a matter of personal taste rather than eternal value or meaning.
Do you like your coffee black or with milk or cream? Would you like sugar? Do your prefer your eggs scrambled or over easy? Would you like home fries or French fries? Do you prefer Islam, Judaism, or Christianity? It's a matter of consumer taste, bemoaned Krauthammer.
More than that, in our secular culture, tolerance abounds except for anyone who is openly and sincerely religious, says Krauthammer. In a democratic society all kinds of political arguments are acceptable, except those based in sincere faith. "Call on Timothy Leary or Chairman Mao, fine. Call on Saint Paul, and all hell breaks loose," said Krauthammer. (Time, June 15, 1998, p. 92)
Yale University Law School professor, Dr. Stephen Carter, lamented much the same in his book, The Culture of Disbelief. He says much of contemporary secular culture treats religion as if it were a mere consumer choice, a mere matter of private preference and personal taste. God is treated more or less as a personal hobby, and religion is an activity of personal preference, which has little or nothing to do with public life and behavior.
In our secular culture, "Taking religion seriously," says Professor Carter, "is something only those wild-eyed zealots do ..." (p. 24). In other words, sincerely religious people are an implied threat to the prevailing authorities and accepted truths and politically correct dogmas. Sincerely religious people, believing in a transcendent reality, are always open to a new way of seeing which may severely threaten the accepted way of seeing. As Dr. Carter puts it, "A religion is at its heart a way of denying the authority of the rest of the world" (op. cit., p. 41).
Jesus admired Nathanael as a man of courageous faith in whom there was no fraud, no cringing acquiescence to the political correctness police of the left or right, no unthinking groveling before the herd psychology or mob instinct, no rigid, opinionated, agnostic cynic who was too lazy to read new challenges to his thought.
No, here was a man who responded to Philip's invitation to "come and see." And Nathanael went and saw and believed, and so must we, if our religion is to be without guile.
II
A religion without guile will also affect morals and ethics and behavior. A religion without guile will practice what it preaches.
I am reminded of a Mexican bandit who robbed a Laredo, Texas, bank and was apprehended on a busy street by a U.S. marshal a few days later.
The marshal spoke no Spanish and the Mexican spoke no English, so a passing Mexican was asked to be the interpreter. The marshal poked a gun in the bandit's belly and said to the interpreter, "Ask him if his name is Gonzales." The interpreter said, "He says, si, he is Manuel Gonzales." "Ask him if he was in Laredo at the First National Bank." The interpreter said, "He says he was and he admits he robbed the bank."
The marshal pushed the gun further into the bandit's belly. "Now tell him I'm going to pull the trigger if he doesn't tell me where the money is." With sweat pouring down his face the thief stammered in Spanish, "Don't shoot! I got a wife and four kids at home. The money is in the well behind the house."
The interpreter said to the marshal, "He says you one big mouth. You no scare him. Go ahead and shoot!" When it comes to applying our religion to our ethics and behavior, many of us are like that interpreter!
Some of Jesus' harshest criticism was of those whose religious beliefs did not make a difference in their practice. And while we might expect promises and performance to be contradictory in politicians, it is especially odious when religious leaders violate the essential teachings of their religion.
Consider, for example, the recent indictment by state and federal authorities of the minister who is the President of the National Baptist Convention, USA. Reverend Henry Lyons has been named in 56 counts including extortion, fraud, and tax evasion. Federal authorities claim he cheated corporations out of five million dollars, to purchase cars, jewelry, trips, country club memberships, and a Florida beachfront house for his alleged mistress. If convicted, Reverend Lyons could be sentenced to a maximum of 815 years in prison and 25 million dollars in fines. If the charges are true, Reverend Lyons is a blatant contradiction of the religion he espouses.
The late Christopher Lasch once asked what accounted for our society's wholesale defection "from the standards of personal conduct -- civility, industry, self-restraint -- that were considered indispensable to democracy." His answer was the "decay of religion." Religion, he observed, had come to be a matter of indifference to many and was left out of public debate. It became less and less relevant to public behavior (quoted in Robert Bork, Slouching Towards Gomorrah, p. 274).
While many Americans -- over ninety percent -- say they believe in God, and while nearly half say they pray every day, and while forty percent say they attend religious services once a week -- while many profess belief, it often does not follow through in ethical behavior.
Indeed, many religious people -- especially from the right -- are suspect if they enter the public arena with religious convictions. But historically speaking, the American Revolution, the abolition of slavery, women's suffrage, the temperance movement, on down to the civil rights movement led by Martin Luther King, Jr. -- all these political movements for freedom, equality, justice, and ethics had a strong religious core and emphasis. Indeed, the Great Awakening of the eighteenth century and the Revivalism of the nineteenth century often fueled these great social reformations.
A religion without guile will not only talk of freedom and justice and equality, it will act for them. A religion without guile will not only preach against corruption in business and government, it will advocate publicly for honesty. A religion without guile will not just be a privatized, personalized activity of consumer taste; it will be a bastion of conviction against all the insidious power which would exploit our true humanity.
Jesus, at the beginning of his ministry, said of Nathanael, "Behold an Israelite without guile," because he was willing to "come and see" to enter the frontier of new truth.
However, we don't hear much about Nathanael again until the very last chapter of John's Gospel, where after Jesus' death Nathanael goes fishing on the Sea of Galilee with some of the other disciples. It was there, after the resurrection, that Nathanael and the others experienced yet another frontier -- the presence of the Risen Christ in their breakfast on the beach.
After their miraculous catch of fish they came to shore. And the risen Jesus was there, beside a charcoal fire on the beach, with fish being cooked on it. "Come and have breakfast," he invited them.
And they did. And Nathanael saw the glory of the Son of Man -- now manifested in the Risen One -- the glory promised when first he believed. He saw and believed and acted because his was a religion without guile.
Prayer
Almighty God, who has created the universe in majesty and mystery, and who has brought forth humanity in your image to manifest your love and glory, we thank you for all the wonders we behold and the opportunities we have been given. All life and living is a gift from you. We give you thanks and praise.
We come before you, O God, for a cleansing of the soul. Jesus has promised, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." So we come to you for purity of heart. Help us always to come to the truth about ourselves and our relationships. Give us clarity and insight so we might be rid of self-deception and be cleansed of lingering guilt. Save us from self-rationalization and self-justification which fortify the self against coming clean with you. Cleanse our hearts of all unrighteousness and forgive our sins, that we might behold you in all your beauty and purity.
We pray for our church and the Church throughout the world. Strengthen us to act with purer motive and to do with good conscience the works of righteousness of your Kingdom. Keep us from falsehood, from deceit and arrogance. Grant that with integrity we might be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Strengthen and bless your Church with purity of heart and a renewed faith from a vision of your holiness. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Very often immigrants to the eastern part of the country clustered first in the ghetto, and then with mastery of English or new skills, gradually moved out of the ghetto and sometimes to the suburbs -- but often not "Out West" -- meaning anything west of the Hudson River. Chicago was out there somewhere and not far beyond it lay San Francisco. And in between were mostly cowboys and Indians, sod huts and American Gothic farmers.
The classic magazine cover of The New Yorker depicting the average New Yorker's vision of America said it beautifully. Beyond the Hudson was Chicago, and in the distance a skyscraper of San Francisco, with little in between!
But for most Americans the frontier was a formative influence. Leaving behind the support of one's own group, advancing into vast spaces and developing a strong sense of self-reliance and independence, coupled with a radical egalitarianism, many Americans owe much to the "frontier experience."
That was also true in religion. Many had left behind particular denominations of their "old world" country. The denominational divisions of the past, often based on national, ethnic, linguistic, and regional rivalries, seemed irrelevant in the vast regions of the new world frontier. But religion itself was not irrelevant. Instead, America was greatly influenced by the Great Awakening of the 1700s led by Congregationalism's Jonathan Edwards and Methodism's George Whitefield.
And in the 1800s, revivalism swept across all of America -- from Brooklyn on to the far reaches of the Midwest and West. Religious revivals and theological debates abounded. Religious enthusiasm and intellectual inquiry seemed to go hand in hand.
One delightful story comes out of the American Midwest of the early 1800s. One man, called to enter the ministry, prepared himself with the requisite philosophical, Biblical, historical, and theological studies. The time came for him to be ordained. And after he had presented his required theological position paper, the austere ordination committee interrogated him intensely.
They especially wanted to know more about his views on the Trinity -- the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. They were unclear about his beliefs and wanted him to be more specific and precise.
The ministerial candidate was in a dilemma, because he knew his views on the Trinity did not agree with the orthodox teachings of that denomination. He knew that if he spoke somewhat ambiguously and abstractly, embroidering here and there, he might be able to pass the examination. On the other hand, he knew if he told them what he really believed, they would disqualify him for the ministry.
This was his dilemma. Should he tell a lie and be ordained, or should he tell the truth and be kicked out? He chose the latter, and was indeed kicked out. He decided upon a religion without guile, a religion without deceit or hypocrisy, a religion without deception or falsehood. He opted to stand by his convictions of truth and be rejected, rather than falsifying his beliefs for the sake of acceptance. (By the way, he was later ordained in a denomination which espoused more intellectual liberty.)
Most all of us, in one way or another, have faced similar dilemmas. Should we tell the truth and be kicked out, or support the lie and remain in? Should we express our doubts openly and risk censure, or just cross our fingers when we say the creeds and remain approved? Should we blow the whistle on fraud and deception in religion or business, government or profession? Or should we just go along with the corruption everyone knows about so as not to disturb the status quo? And should we not, of all things, expect religion to be without guile? Of course we should.
I
A religion without guile will have the courage to stand for the truth.
That may be what attracted Jesus to Nathanael, a man he described as an Israelite with no guile, no deceit or fraud or hypocrisy. Only John's Gospel mentions Nathanael, whose name means "gift of God." And at first glance, Nathanael comes off as a bit of a snob.
When asked by Philip to come meet Jesus of Nazareth, whom they believed was the Messiah, Nathanael scoffed with the bias of his fellow citizens of Cana (a rival city of Nazareth), saying, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" And rather than argue with Nathanael, Philip merely replies, "Come and see."
The other officially religious people of his time, as depicted by John's Gospel, were not nearly as ready to explore new truth. Content in their traditions and self-righteous in their conclusions, they presumed they knew all the essential truth. So they were not receptive to Jesus or his teachings. But Nathanael was -- an Israelite in whom there was no self-justifying deceptiveness, no guile.
Jesus saw Nathanael sitting under the fig tree -- a place where rabbis and others often sat to study, to meditate, to pray for the messianic age, and to teach. With divine intuition, Jesus perceives him to be a seeker, a man open to new truth, a person willing to face the future with the courage of his convictions. Rather than perpetuate the fraud of commonly accepted lies and delusions, Nathanael had courage to move on to new truths and convictions.
Charles Krauthammer, a popular author and essayist for Time magazine, wrote recently of his experience upon being admitted to the hospital. After the usual questions in the admitting office, he was asked his religious preference. Of course, the hospital wanted to know whether to call a minister, priest, rabbi, or mullah in case of emergency, said Krauthammer. But it struck him that many people think of religion in that way -- as a matter of preference rather than conviction, as a matter of personal taste rather than eternal value or meaning.
Do you like your coffee black or with milk or cream? Would you like sugar? Do your prefer your eggs scrambled or over easy? Would you like home fries or French fries? Do you prefer Islam, Judaism, or Christianity? It's a matter of consumer taste, bemoaned Krauthammer.
More than that, in our secular culture, tolerance abounds except for anyone who is openly and sincerely religious, says Krauthammer. In a democratic society all kinds of political arguments are acceptable, except those based in sincere faith. "Call on Timothy Leary or Chairman Mao, fine. Call on Saint Paul, and all hell breaks loose," said Krauthammer. (Time, June 15, 1998, p. 92)
Yale University Law School professor, Dr. Stephen Carter, lamented much the same in his book, The Culture of Disbelief. He says much of contemporary secular culture treats religion as if it were a mere consumer choice, a mere matter of private preference and personal taste. God is treated more or less as a personal hobby, and religion is an activity of personal preference, which has little or nothing to do with public life and behavior.
In our secular culture, "Taking religion seriously," says Professor Carter, "is something only those wild-eyed zealots do ..." (p. 24). In other words, sincerely religious people are an implied threat to the prevailing authorities and accepted truths and politically correct dogmas. Sincerely religious people, believing in a transcendent reality, are always open to a new way of seeing which may severely threaten the accepted way of seeing. As Dr. Carter puts it, "A religion is at its heart a way of denying the authority of the rest of the world" (op. cit., p. 41).
Jesus admired Nathanael as a man of courageous faith in whom there was no fraud, no cringing acquiescence to the political correctness police of the left or right, no unthinking groveling before the herd psychology or mob instinct, no rigid, opinionated, agnostic cynic who was too lazy to read new challenges to his thought.
No, here was a man who responded to Philip's invitation to "come and see." And Nathanael went and saw and believed, and so must we, if our religion is to be without guile.
II
A religion without guile will also affect morals and ethics and behavior. A religion without guile will practice what it preaches.
I am reminded of a Mexican bandit who robbed a Laredo, Texas, bank and was apprehended on a busy street by a U.S. marshal a few days later.
The marshal spoke no Spanish and the Mexican spoke no English, so a passing Mexican was asked to be the interpreter. The marshal poked a gun in the bandit's belly and said to the interpreter, "Ask him if his name is Gonzales." The interpreter said, "He says, si, he is Manuel Gonzales." "Ask him if he was in Laredo at the First National Bank." The interpreter said, "He says he was and he admits he robbed the bank."
The marshal pushed the gun further into the bandit's belly. "Now tell him I'm going to pull the trigger if he doesn't tell me where the money is." With sweat pouring down his face the thief stammered in Spanish, "Don't shoot! I got a wife and four kids at home. The money is in the well behind the house."
The interpreter said to the marshal, "He says you one big mouth. You no scare him. Go ahead and shoot!" When it comes to applying our religion to our ethics and behavior, many of us are like that interpreter!
Some of Jesus' harshest criticism was of those whose religious beliefs did not make a difference in their practice. And while we might expect promises and performance to be contradictory in politicians, it is especially odious when religious leaders violate the essential teachings of their religion.
Consider, for example, the recent indictment by state and federal authorities of the minister who is the President of the National Baptist Convention, USA. Reverend Henry Lyons has been named in 56 counts including extortion, fraud, and tax evasion. Federal authorities claim he cheated corporations out of five million dollars, to purchase cars, jewelry, trips, country club memberships, and a Florida beachfront house for his alleged mistress. If convicted, Reverend Lyons could be sentenced to a maximum of 815 years in prison and 25 million dollars in fines. If the charges are true, Reverend Lyons is a blatant contradiction of the religion he espouses.
The late Christopher Lasch once asked what accounted for our society's wholesale defection "from the standards of personal conduct -- civility, industry, self-restraint -- that were considered indispensable to democracy." His answer was the "decay of religion." Religion, he observed, had come to be a matter of indifference to many and was left out of public debate. It became less and less relevant to public behavior (quoted in Robert Bork, Slouching Towards Gomorrah, p. 274).
While many Americans -- over ninety percent -- say they believe in God, and while nearly half say they pray every day, and while forty percent say they attend religious services once a week -- while many profess belief, it often does not follow through in ethical behavior.
Indeed, many religious people -- especially from the right -- are suspect if they enter the public arena with religious convictions. But historically speaking, the American Revolution, the abolition of slavery, women's suffrage, the temperance movement, on down to the civil rights movement led by Martin Luther King, Jr. -- all these political movements for freedom, equality, justice, and ethics had a strong religious core and emphasis. Indeed, the Great Awakening of the eighteenth century and the Revivalism of the nineteenth century often fueled these great social reformations.
A religion without guile will not only talk of freedom and justice and equality, it will act for them. A religion without guile will not only preach against corruption in business and government, it will advocate publicly for honesty. A religion without guile will not just be a privatized, personalized activity of consumer taste; it will be a bastion of conviction against all the insidious power which would exploit our true humanity.
Jesus, at the beginning of his ministry, said of Nathanael, "Behold an Israelite without guile," because he was willing to "come and see" to enter the frontier of new truth.
However, we don't hear much about Nathanael again until the very last chapter of John's Gospel, where after Jesus' death Nathanael goes fishing on the Sea of Galilee with some of the other disciples. It was there, after the resurrection, that Nathanael and the others experienced yet another frontier -- the presence of the Risen Christ in their breakfast on the beach.
After their miraculous catch of fish they came to shore. And the risen Jesus was there, beside a charcoal fire on the beach, with fish being cooked on it. "Come and have breakfast," he invited them.
And they did. And Nathanael saw the glory of the Son of Man -- now manifested in the Risen One -- the glory promised when first he believed. He saw and believed and acted because his was a religion without guile.
Prayer
Almighty God, who has created the universe in majesty and mystery, and who has brought forth humanity in your image to manifest your love and glory, we thank you for all the wonders we behold and the opportunities we have been given. All life and living is a gift from you. We give you thanks and praise.
We come before you, O God, for a cleansing of the soul. Jesus has promised, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." So we come to you for purity of heart. Help us always to come to the truth about ourselves and our relationships. Give us clarity and insight so we might be rid of self-deception and be cleansed of lingering guilt. Save us from self-rationalization and self-justification which fortify the self against coming clean with you. Cleanse our hearts of all unrighteousness and forgive our sins, that we might behold you in all your beauty and purity.
We pray for our church and the Church throughout the world. Strengthen us to act with purer motive and to do with good conscience the works of righteousness of your Kingdom. Keep us from falsehood, from deceit and arrogance. Grant that with integrity we might be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Strengthen and bless your Church with purity of heart and a renewed faith from a vision of your holiness. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
