Security Concerns
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
Security has become big business in our world. Burglar and smoke alarms are wired directly from private homes to police and fire stations. Automobiles give forth major noises in the parking lots of shopping malls because some owner has inadvertently pushed the wrong button on a key pad. High school students walk through metal detectors to enter their school buildings. Even business phones and credit cards are "protected" by a user's password or "PIN" number. So pervasive is the concern for security that a whole new mentality animates parents who tour college campuses with their teenagers, seeking to make a choice among various institutions. No longer do such parents ask questions about the faculty, living accommodations, library, or dining hall. The questions have changed during the past decade:
"Will my child be safe here?"
"Where are your call boxes located and how many do you have?"
"How many cases of date rape do you have per year?"
"Are your parking lots patrolled?"
"Do you have a student volunteer escort service?"
A concern with assaults from demonic powers seems to be an ever-present reality in our world. Parents want to make certain that their children have at their disposal all that is needed to help them resist an attack on their well being.
Ephesians chapter 6 has never been a favorite biblical text for many preachers. They do not like to mix strident military metaphors with talk about the Prince of Peace. They sometimes point out that all the armament listed by the author of the text is mainly defensive armor needed for survival rather than attack.
Yet we still must admit that for all our theological double-speak, the realities of our world throw us back often to possessing a kindred spirit with this text. While many of us live in "gated" communities and have key pads on our homes, there is much organized evil to be concerned about that we cannot avoid. We can't stay home forever. Even those children who have been "home schooled" or immersed in the trend toward "Christian" high schools, find their spiritual immaturity leaving them vulnerable and defenseless in a pluralistic world.
The tone of today's text contains an acceptance of real life in every age. The author intends to warn Christians that some frightening things are happening in the world. The Christian task is not to reflect these things but to answer them. This clarion call is a call that shivers its way to us. We seldom hear from "significant" pulpits these days talk about heaven, hell, the Kingdom of God, taking up the cross of Jesus, absolutely yielding one's existence to the Spirit of God or submitting to the rigorous demands of the Christian life.1 It's like the more sophisticated we become, the more wealthy and polished and educated we become, the more God is pushed out.2 We become totally trapped by our personal problems to the point there is a huge silence about public affairs. It's like the God of Israel has become a free therapist for our individual problems. People come away from church with the feeling they have been to a civic club to hear an encouraging talk about personal adjustment instead of having been challenged to reframe their ways of approaching life. We wrestle with personal problems. We hear sermons like "How to Cope with a Sense of Inadequacy," "How to Conquer Anxiety," and "How to Have Self-esteem." Sin has been reduced to a personal psychological problem. In an unbrave world, in which people have much to lose, we preach that people can enjoy the happiness of God if they just accept themselves and have some self-esteem. All they have to do is take a plunge into Jesus.
It's almost like Jesus can save our inner selves, but he's not much use for the world in which we live. To be blunt, it's as if Jesus Christ is a half-savior. He can bring relief to the burdened heart, but he is obviously helpless when it comes to the powers that be -- we have to look elsewhere to capitalism or conservative or liberal politicians or the government for that.3
Yet look at the Bible. Amos, Jeremiah, Moses, Jesus, and Paul rather dramatically insist that we not only wrestle with personal problems but also "against the principalities, against the powers, against darkness," against systems and hallowed patterns of life which trap us. The letter to the Ephesians is clear: "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12).
Like the Ephesians, you and I have to fight principalities and powers that have us in sway. Our advertised lusts, which are bolstered by a high standard of living, trap many of us into a kind of dark bondage. To find security we must turn to the available resources from God. The text points to a defense that must watch the forces it is up against. Consider the Christian countermeasures against the dark world: "truth, faith, the gospel of peace, and all kinds of prayers and requests." Indeed, the greater the forces of darkness, the greater the moral demands. The author clearly states that the whole armor of God is needed, for there are huge powers that threaten us. A bow and arrow conscience cannot match the moral demands of our increasingly complex world. As our powerful world has progressed in its secular capacity for evil, our moral armament must stay in step.
Early humans learned how to use a club in self-defense. As humanity developed its destructive capacity, warfare extended from the club through the bow and arrow, gun powder, and the gasoline engine up to and beyond the jet-propelled plane and the atomic bomb. With each new development, we Christians have had to adjust our minds and spirits to each new power. Howard Thurman perceptively noted that with each new power we have been forced to find a scheme of life that would keep us from destroying ourselves. Difficult as this adjustment has been for our minds, it has been infinitely more difficult for our spirits.4 The security concerns raised by the writer to the Ephesians, encouraging Christians to "put on the full armor of God," offer relevant advice for our own age. We must match the amazing power created by our mastery over nature with an equally amazing spiritual and moral maturity.
In the face of immense security concerns, we are not encouraged to withdraw from the world. To the contrary, we are called to reflect God and live. We need armor to challenge the forces in our world because the Church was never meant to hibernate its way into the future. The writer of Ephesians assumes that the social teachings of Jesus will not be watered down to encourage passivity and meekness. Certainly the writer could have never conceived of a Church that would withdraw from vigorous social action and turn its attention to physical improvement and institutional expansion.
The hard hitting narrative, that the armor of God can protect us as we engage with the social and spiritual powers of the world, applies to every onslaught that threatens to hold the Church of Jesus Christ hostage. Consider even the applicability of this passage to the pervasive habits of membership and leadership roles that threaten the Church. Women labor under what is often called the "cult of domesticity," outnumbering the men in the pews, in the church schools, and behind the scenes. Yet the ecclesiastical climate is often chilly toward them when it comes to the role of being a clergy person. Surely the armor of God is sufficient to enable a heightened role for capable women in professional positions within Christ's Church.
New Testament scholar Helmut Koester decades ago served as guest preacher in a Congregational Church in East Walpole, Massachusetts. Preceding the sermon, the ordinance of baptism was observed. As the young family of the infant being baptized stood around the font, one member of the family became frightened. Five-year-old Benjie, brother of the candidate for baptism, crawled up under the altar table with the cross on top. Benjie would not come out. The plaintive cries of his parents, the church's pastor, and a few choir members could not convince Benjie to move. Such only caused him to withdraw deeper under the table in full view of the congregation. As the congregants snickered and laughed at the bizarre scene, the pastor finally turned to the audience, shrugged his shoulders, and motioned for the service to continue.
Slowly and deliberately Koester mounted the pulpit. He turned around and in a clear voice spoke to the table under which the lad had found his security: "That's all right, Benjie, for centuries humans have taken refuge under the cross. You are not the first. You will not be the last."5
There is no greater security than that which enables us to walk the earth in the midst of our fellow humans with simple reverence and grace. When the day of evil comes, the armor of God proves sufficient. That knowledge should greatly strengthen our moral conscience.
____________
1. John Killinger, "Mainline Preaching's Changed Pulpit," The Christian Ministry (September -- October, 1987), pp. 7-9.
2. Thomas H. Conley, "A Mandate: Take Time Out!" Northside Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, October 9, 1988.
3. This insight is found in David Buttrick, "Preaching In An Unbrave New World," The Spire, Vanderbilt University Divinity School and Oberlin Graduate School of Theology, Vol. 13, no. 1, Summer/Fall, 1988.
4. Howard Thurman, For the Inward Journey: the Writings of Howard Thurman, selected by Anne Spencer Thurman (Richmond, Indiana: Friends United Meeting, 1984), pp. 4-5. Thurman's essay is titled, "The Conscientious Demand."
5. The service took place in Union Congregational Church where I was assistant minister. Helmut Koester was speaking at my invitation.
"Will my child be safe here?"
"Where are your call boxes located and how many do you have?"
"How many cases of date rape do you have per year?"
"Are your parking lots patrolled?"
"Do you have a student volunteer escort service?"
A concern with assaults from demonic powers seems to be an ever-present reality in our world. Parents want to make certain that their children have at their disposal all that is needed to help them resist an attack on their well being.
Ephesians chapter 6 has never been a favorite biblical text for many preachers. They do not like to mix strident military metaphors with talk about the Prince of Peace. They sometimes point out that all the armament listed by the author of the text is mainly defensive armor needed for survival rather than attack.
Yet we still must admit that for all our theological double-speak, the realities of our world throw us back often to possessing a kindred spirit with this text. While many of us live in "gated" communities and have key pads on our homes, there is much organized evil to be concerned about that we cannot avoid. We can't stay home forever. Even those children who have been "home schooled" or immersed in the trend toward "Christian" high schools, find their spiritual immaturity leaving them vulnerable and defenseless in a pluralistic world.
The tone of today's text contains an acceptance of real life in every age. The author intends to warn Christians that some frightening things are happening in the world. The Christian task is not to reflect these things but to answer them. This clarion call is a call that shivers its way to us. We seldom hear from "significant" pulpits these days talk about heaven, hell, the Kingdom of God, taking up the cross of Jesus, absolutely yielding one's existence to the Spirit of God or submitting to the rigorous demands of the Christian life.1 It's like the more sophisticated we become, the more wealthy and polished and educated we become, the more God is pushed out.2 We become totally trapped by our personal problems to the point there is a huge silence about public affairs. It's like the God of Israel has become a free therapist for our individual problems. People come away from church with the feeling they have been to a civic club to hear an encouraging talk about personal adjustment instead of having been challenged to reframe their ways of approaching life. We wrestle with personal problems. We hear sermons like "How to Cope with a Sense of Inadequacy," "How to Conquer Anxiety," and "How to Have Self-esteem." Sin has been reduced to a personal psychological problem. In an unbrave world, in which people have much to lose, we preach that people can enjoy the happiness of God if they just accept themselves and have some self-esteem. All they have to do is take a plunge into Jesus.
It's almost like Jesus can save our inner selves, but he's not much use for the world in which we live. To be blunt, it's as if Jesus Christ is a half-savior. He can bring relief to the burdened heart, but he is obviously helpless when it comes to the powers that be -- we have to look elsewhere to capitalism or conservative or liberal politicians or the government for that.3
Yet look at the Bible. Amos, Jeremiah, Moses, Jesus, and Paul rather dramatically insist that we not only wrestle with personal problems but also "against the principalities, against the powers, against darkness," against systems and hallowed patterns of life which trap us. The letter to the Ephesians is clear: "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12).
Like the Ephesians, you and I have to fight principalities and powers that have us in sway. Our advertised lusts, which are bolstered by a high standard of living, trap many of us into a kind of dark bondage. To find security we must turn to the available resources from God. The text points to a defense that must watch the forces it is up against. Consider the Christian countermeasures against the dark world: "truth, faith, the gospel of peace, and all kinds of prayers and requests." Indeed, the greater the forces of darkness, the greater the moral demands. The author clearly states that the whole armor of God is needed, for there are huge powers that threaten us. A bow and arrow conscience cannot match the moral demands of our increasingly complex world. As our powerful world has progressed in its secular capacity for evil, our moral armament must stay in step.
Early humans learned how to use a club in self-defense. As humanity developed its destructive capacity, warfare extended from the club through the bow and arrow, gun powder, and the gasoline engine up to and beyond the jet-propelled plane and the atomic bomb. With each new development, we Christians have had to adjust our minds and spirits to each new power. Howard Thurman perceptively noted that with each new power we have been forced to find a scheme of life that would keep us from destroying ourselves. Difficult as this adjustment has been for our minds, it has been infinitely more difficult for our spirits.4 The security concerns raised by the writer to the Ephesians, encouraging Christians to "put on the full armor of God," offer relevant advice for our own age. We must match the amazing power created by our mastery over nature with an equally amazing spiritual and moral maturity.
In the face of immense security concerns, we are not encouraged to withdraw from the world. To the contrary, we are called to reflect God and live. We need armor to challenge the forces in our world because the Church was never meant to hibernate its way into the future. The writer of Ephesians assumes that the social teachings of Jesus will not be watered down to encourage passivity and meekness. Certainly the writer could have never conceived of a Church that would withdraw from vigorous social action and turn its attention to physical improvement and institutional expansion.
The hard hitting narrative, that the armor of God can protect us as we engage with the social and spiritual powers of the world, applies to every onslaught that threatens to hold the Church of Jesus Christ hostage. Consider even the applicability of this passage to the pervasive habits of membership and leadership roles that threaten the Church. Women labor under what is often called the "cult of domesticity," outnumbering the men in the pews, in the church schools, and behind the scenes. Yet the ecclesiastical climate is often chilly toward them when it comes to the role of being a clergy person. Surely the armor of God is sufficient to enable a heightened role for capable women in professional positions within Christ's Church.
New Testament scholar Helmut Koester decades ago served as guest preacher in a Congregational Church in East Walpole, Massachusetts. Preceding the sermon, the ordinance of baptism was observed. As the young family of the infant being baptized stood around the font, one member of the family became frightened. Five-year-old Benjie, brother of the candidate for baptism, crawled up under the altar table with the cross on top. Benjie would not come out. The plaintive cries of his parents, the church's pastor, and a few choir members could not convince Benjie to move. Such only caused him to withdraw deeper under the table in full view of the congregation. As the congregants snickered and laughed at the bizarre scene, the pastor finally turned to the audience, shrugged his shoulders, and motioned for the service to continue.
Slowly and deliberately Koester mounted the pulpit. He turned around and in a clear voice spoke to the table under which the lad had found his security: "That's all right, Benjie, for centuries humans have taken refuge under the cross. You are not the first. You will not be the last."5
There is no greater security than that which enables us to walk the earth in the midst of our fellow humans with simple reverence and grace. When the day of evil comes, the armor of God proves sufficient. That knowledge should greatly strengthen our moral conscience.
____________
1. John Killinger, "Mainline Preaching's Changed Pulpit," The Christian Ministry (September -- October, 1987), pp. 7-9.
2. Thomas H. Conley, "A Mandate: Take Time Out!" Northside Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, October 9, 1988.
3. This insight is found in David Buttrick, "Preaching In An Unbrave New World," The Spire, Vanderbilt University Divinity School and Oberlin Graduate School of Theology, Vol. 13, no. 1, Summer/Fall, 1988.
4. Howard Thurman, For the Inward Journey: the Writings of Howard Thurman, selected by Anne Spencer Thurman (Richmond, Indiana: Friends United Meeting, 1984), pp. 4-5. Thurman's essay is titled, "The Conscientious Demand."
5. The service took place in Union Congregational Church where I was assistant minister. Helmut Koester was speaking at my invitation.
