Saint Alban's Episcopal Church, Redmond, OR

SERMONS ‘By What Authority …’ September 25, 2011 Sermon by the Rev. Charles Christopher They say that confession is good for the soul. I grew up as the middle of three boys. My older brother (2 years older than I) and I had a sort of truce: “Don’t hassle me and I won’t hassle you.” But my younger brother was a great target for me to learn leadership skills. I did it by ordering him around. I’d tell him to eat his breakfast or pick up his room and would do so ‘til Mom got fed up with me and would intervene, her hand on her hip, and say, “Just exactly who do you think you are?” The problem with snippets of text on a Sunday morning is that we miss the full picture without the context. This sounds like a pretty tame scene, but it isn’t. The day before this event, Jesus had entered Jerusalem as a king – we all know what that means, the beginning of the end. He went right to the temple and in a fit of righteous indignation, threw the money-changers out of the temple. The next morning, on his way back into town, he sees a fig tree that’s not bearing fruit. He curses it and it withers then he uses it as an opportunity to teach about faithfulness. He then has the temerity to go back to the temple and teach. This group of Pharisees wasn’t the debate club. They were upset and came to him (just like my Mom!) with their hands on their hips saying, “Just exactly who do you think you are?” A side note here. Matthew’s primary gospel concern is that his audience (mostly Jews) understand without a doubt who Jesus is. Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed or “christos” one. The Pharisees’ question about authority is fundamental to Matthew’s listeners. Jesus responds by looking them straight in the eye and challenging them right back by putting them over a barrel concerning John the Baptist. Their rules, regulations and politics leave them in a dilemma, so they say they don’t know. So Jesus keeps his end of the bargain by not telling them the source of his authority. Yet he really does tell them, but through a parable. The story is simple; it features one son who said “no” to his father and then did “yes” and another son who said “yes” and then did “no,” followed by a question about which did the father’s will. Clearly the answer is the one given; the one who said “no” and later thought differently about it and so did “yes” was the one who did the father’s will. The answer to Jesus’ question is obvious – but not his response. Whatever you may think, this isn’t a story about actions speaking louder than words, nor is it one of faith vs. works. I am an ordained clergyman, which means that I’ve spent my whole adult life working for the kingdom of God. I spent years of educational preparation, and have been working in kingdom service for 40 years. That means that I, as a clergyperson, am the quintessential insider. I have been tight with the Lord for many, many decades now. Many of you are too. On any given Sunday, in most congregations, only about a third of church members are in church. Church attendance is said to be the most important single indicator of spiritual vitality. So, since this little congregation’s attendance is around 85-90% each week, it’s an indicator that you’re insiders too. Jesus is the troublesome outsider who clashes with the keepers-of-the-status-quo insiders. Jesus’ critics, who are all authorities on scripture, ecclesiastical policy, and other sacred matters, have criticized Jesus’ words and deeds. And in response Jesus replies, “Tax collectors and harlots (that is, two of the most despised, outcast groups in society of that day) go into the kingdom of God before you insiders.” That statement (“tax collectors and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you”) could be heard as one of the meanest, sharpest, harshest words that Jesus ever spoke – particularly if you are an insider! Here I am, having given my life in service to the kingdom, studying, working, only to be told that these outsiders (who presumably know nothing about biblical interpretation) get to go into the kingdom before me! Yet, if any of you just happen to be here as an outsider, then these words of Jesus that I hear as harsh and abrasive just may be heard by you as good news! There is a trap for all of us who are insiders. It’s that the very things about the life of our community that are meaningful to us – our worship, the music, the BCP, our piety, our theology – can become the standards by which we see the world. Our mission can easily become one of preserving those standards. The highest priority becomes survival. But even worse, those standards become the means of determining who is right and who is wrong – who’s righteous and who’s a sinner. That’s where Jesus was headed with this.		Both brothers were indecisive to the point of lying. Yes, one did the right thing, but he still initially rejected the father’s request. The important point here is that the one who was at best indifferent to the father chose to honor the request anyway. In the terms of faith, he believed in the father. All too often we miss the point when we talk about faith and belief. We tend to think of belief as an intellectual process through which we adhere to a particular doctrine and/or religion. Actually, it only secondarily means that. The primary meaning has to do with where we place our feet; where we hang out; how we live in community. It has to do with participation, belonging, common union, communion. Those Pharisees believed in their sacred texts, their laws, their temple, their traditions, their basic teachings, but failed to participate in the Kingdom, even as it stood before them. Not so for the tax collectors (one of whom was the author of this gospel), the hookers, the homeless, the folks wearing chains and tattoos, the little, the last, the least and the lost. They’re the ones who simply saw Jesus for who he was and followed because he offered what they couldn’t find in the world around them – acceptance, wholeness, freedom. For the last 50 years, the so-called “mainline” churches have been shedding members like trees in the late fall. At least one of the reasons this is true is that the internal jostling over doctrine and practice aren’t very attractive to folks who are seeking the Kingdom. Churches that claim no denominational affiliation are doing the best. This last week I had coffee with one of the pastors at SCF whose background is Conservative Baptist. He told me that his own seminary – the place where the insiders are trained for the continuation and support of the institution – has dropped both the words “conservative” and “Baptist” from their name and their literature. He said it was because most of the students weren’t Conservative Baptist, many were from more liberal evangelical traditions, and because they’d discovered that the wrangling within both the Southern Baptist and Conservative Baptist denominations was keeping students away. The shedding of denominational identity seems to have a positive effect on most folks. At SCF there are 3 Episcopal, 2 Presbyterian, 2 Lutheran, one Disciple of Christ, one American Baptist, and one Conservative Baptist clergy persons in the membership and staff. In talking with these quintessential insiders, the universal comment has been how freeing it is to be part of a community that can’t get entangled in any denominational issues simply because it has a larger vision. I suspect that the fundamental reason that sort of a model is doing so well across mainline churches is that in order to be in community, they have to come to a simpler way of talking about faith. That’s where Paul was going with today’s reading from Philippians and it’s well for us to note it. This was a credal hymn – a basic statement of belief – that those who were committing themselves to Christ spoke. Every knee bowed and every tongue confessed those words. There is an old story about three clergy who were debating a theological point with one another at the local ministerial association meeting. The Catholic priest began his argument with, “The latest encyclical clearly teaches that...” Not to be outdone, the Baptist minister thundered, “Listen, the Bible says...” The Episcopalian piped up, “Well, it’s always seemed to me...” What is it that forms the core of our faith? One author wryly commented that she distrusts any statement that begins with “I like to think of God as...” Such sentiments are likely to be just that: sentiment – personal ideas, relevant only to the speaker. As it turns out, confession is not only good for the soul, it’s good for the body – the body of Christ! The only true confession strong enough to bind us together as one, now and for eternity, is the truth of who Jesus Christ is what he is doing: incarnate, crucified, risen, ascended, and coming again. The Rev. Charles Christopher

SERMONS

‘By What Authority …’
September 25, 2011 Sermon by the Rev. Charles Christopher

They say that confession is good for the soul. I grew up as the middle of three boys. My older brother (2 years older than I) and I had a sort of truce: “Don’t hassle me and I won’t hassle you.” But my younger brother was a great target for me to learn leadership skills. I did it by ordering him around. I’d tell him to eat his breakfast or pick up his room and would do so ‘til Mom got fed up with me and would intervene, her hand on her hip, and say, “Just exactly who do you think you are?”

The problem with snippets of text on a Sunday morning is that we miss the full picture without the context. This sounds like a pretty tame scene, but it isn’t. The day before this event, Jesus had entered Jerusalem as a king – we all know what that means, the beginning of the end. He went right to the temple and in a fit of righteous indignation, threw the money-changers out of the temple. The next morning, on his way back into town, he sees a fig tree that’s not bearing fruit. He curses it and it withers then he uses it as an opportunity to teach about faithfulness. He then has the temerity to go back to the temple and teach. This group of Pharisees wasn’t the debate club. They were upset and came to him (just like my Mom!) with their hands on their hips saying, “Just exactly who do you think you are?”

A side note here. Matthew’s primary gospel concern is that his audience (mostly Jews) understand without a doubt who Jesus is. Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed or “christos” one. The Pharisees’ question about authority is fundamental to Matthew’s listeners.

Jesus responds by looking them straight in the eye and challenging them right back by putting them over a barrel concerning John the Baptist. Their rules, regulations and politics leave them in a dilemma, so they say they don’t know. So Jesus keeps his end of the bargain by not telling them the source of his authority. Yet he really does tell them, but through a parable.

The story is simple; it features one son who said “no” to his father and then did “yes” and another son who said “yes” and then did “no,” followed by a question about which did the father’s will. Clearly the answer is the one given; the one who said “no” and later thought differently about it and so did “yes” was the one who did the father’s will. The answer to Jesus’ question is obvious – but not his response. Whatever you may think, this isn’t a story about actions speaking louder than words, nor is it one of faith vs. works.

I am an ordained clergyman, which means that I’ve spent my whole adult life working for the kingdom of God. I spent years of educational preparation, and have been working in kingdom service for 40 years.

That means that I, as a clergyperson, am the quintessential insider. I have been tight with the Lord for many, many decades now. Many of you are too. On any given Sunday, in most congregations, only about a third of church members are in church. Church attendance is said to be the most important single indicator of spiritual vitality. So, since this little congregation’s attendance is around 85-90% each week, it’s an indicator that you’re insiders too. Jesus is the troublesome outsider who clashes with the keepers-of-the-status-quo insiders.

Jesus’ critics, who are all authorities on scripture, ecclesiastical policy, and other sacred matters, have criticized Jesus’ words and deeds. And in response Jesus replies, “Tax collectors and harlots (that is, two of the most despised, outcast groups in society of that day) go into the kingdom of God before you insiders.”

That statement (“tax collectors and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you”) could be heard as one of the meanest, sharpest, harshest words that Jesus ever spoke – particularly if you are an insider!

Here I am, having given my life in service to the kingdom, studying, working, only to be told that these outsiders (who presumably know nothing about biblical interpretation) get to go into the kingdom before me! Yet, if any of you just happen to be here as an outsider, then these words of Jesus that I hear as harsh and abrasive just may be heard by you as good news!

There is a trap for all of us who are insiders. It’s that the very things about the life of our community that are meaningful to us – our worship, the music, the BCP, our piety, our theology – can become the standards by which we see the world. Our mission can easily become one of preserving those standards. The highest priority becomes survival. But even worse, those standards become the means of determining who is right and who is wrong – who’s righteous and who’s a sinner. That’s where Jesus was headed with this.

Both brothers were indecisive to the point of lying. Yes, one did the right thing, but he still initially rejected the father’s request. The important point here is that the one who was at best indifferent to the father chose to honor the request anyway. In the terms of faith, he believed in the father.

All too often we miss the point when we talk about faith and belief. We tend to think of belief as an intellectual process through which we adhere to a particular doctrine and/or religion. Actually, it only secondarily means that. The primary meaning has to do with where we place our feet; where we hang out; how we live in community. It has to do with participation, belonging, common union, communion.

Those Pharisees believed in their sacred texts, their laws, their temple, their traditions, their basic teachings, but failed to participate in the Kingdom, even as it stood before them. Not so for the tax collectors (one of whom was the author of this gospel), the hookers, the homeless, the folks wearing chains and tattoos, the little, the last, the least and the lost. They’re the ones who simply saw Jesus for who he was and followed because he offered what they couldn’t find in the world around them – acceptance, wholeness, freedom.

For the last 50 years, the so-called “mainline” churches have been shedding members like trees in the late fall. At least one of the reasons this is true is that the internal jostling over doctrine and practice aren’t very attractive to folks who are seeking the Kingdom. Churches that claim no denominational affiliation are doing the best.

This last week I had coffee with one of the pastors at SCF whose background is Conservative Baptist. He told me that his own seminary – the place where the insiders are trained for the continuation and support of the institution – has dropped both the words “conservative” and “Baptist” from their name and their literature. He said it was because most of the students weren’t Conservative Baptist, many were from more liberal evangelical traditions, and because they’d discovered that the wrangling within both the Southern Baptist and Conservative Baptist denominations was keeping students away.

The shedding of denominational identity seems to have a positive effect on most folks. At SCF there are 3 Episcopal, 2 Presbyterian, 2 Lutheran, one Disciple of Christ, one American Baptist, and one Conservative Baptist clergy persons in the membership and staff. In talking with these quintessential insiders, the universal comment has been how freeing it is to be part of a community that can’t get entangled in any denominational issues simply because it has a larger vision.

I suspect that the fundamental reason that sort of a model is doing so well across mainline churches is that in order to be in community, they have to come to a simpler way of talking about faith. That’s where Paul was going with today’s reading from Philippians and it’s well for us to note it. This was a credal hymn – a basic statement of belief – that those who were committing themselves to Christ spoke. Every knee bowed and every tongue confessed those words.

There is an old story about three clergy who were debating a theological point with one another at the local ministerial association meeting. The Catholic priest began his argument with, “The latest encyclical clearly teaches that...” Not to be outdone, the Baptist minister thundered, “Listen, the Bible says...” The Episcopalian piped up, “Well, it’s always seemed to me...”

What is it that forms the core of our faith? One author wryly commented that she distrusts any statement that begins with “I like to think of God as...” Such sentiments are likely to be just that: sentiment – personal ideas, relevant only to the speaker.

As it turns out, confession is not only good for the soul, it’s good for the body – the body of Christ! The only true confession strong enough to bind us together as one, now and for eternity, is the truth of who Jesus Christ is what he is doing: incarnate, crucified, risen, ascended, and coming again.

The Rev. Charles Christopher