|
Full Sermon Texts “The Creativity of Law and Love”
Shalom Mennonite Congregation, Harrisonburg, VA—May 24, 2009
Emily North
John 15:8-17
John 15:9-17 9As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. 10If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. 12 ‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command you. 15I do not call you servants * any longer, because the servant * does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. 16You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. 17I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.
The first time I read through this passage I was struck by how these two words didn’t belong together: command and love. What are your initial reactions to these words? For me, command leaves impressions of lists, things written down, right and wrong, justice and fairness, clear and unquestionable. The other leaves impressions of soft, warm feelings that can be tangible and intangible, compassion, relationship, and what makes the world go round, all you need is love, as the saying goes.
I am a person who doesn’t like the idea of commandments or laws very much as a way to understand Christianity. I think it has to do with my generation or maybe my personality. For me, if I don’t see a direct reason why there is a particular rule or if there too many rules I have a hard time taking them seriously. If rules don’t make sense to me or they seem created more to keep people in line and are restrictive I react negatively. But love, well, love I get. I’ve fallen in and out of love many times. As a mother, friend, wife, and daughter I have experienced love in many wonderful and challenging ways. One of the most important defining moments of my life was when I really got deep inside that God loves me just as I am; all my strengths and weaknesses. But commandment and love? My heart doesn’t sing nor do I feel particularly inspired when I think of those together.
However, we see in this passage that Jesus makes a creative and important connection between law and love that help us understand more fully what kind of world God intends. Holding law and love together gives us a wholistic framework for our lives as a community following Christ that brings peace and justice to our world.
Before we look at this passage I want to read another place in the gospels where these two ideas, law and love, appear in Jesus’ teaching. Matthew 22:34-40 “When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. This phrase, “on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets” reminded me of wind chimes. In order for these bars of metal to make musical notes they need to be hanging from something that is stable and strong. I think of these 2 commandments to love God and love your neighbor as yourself as this platform from which all the rest of the laws hang and what animates all the laws is love which is this hanging wooden ball in the midst of the metal bars. What makes these laws give a community life and vitality is the force of love. But you have to have both the platform and hanging wooden ball to make the music.
I’d like to first look at this passage and put it in context of Jesus’ ministry. This passage comes towards the end of Jesus’ life. It’s one of his last teachings to his disciples. He had pretty much alienated the religious leaders by this point, there was not much love going around for Jesus in these circles. So he knew he probably wasn’t going to be around much longer and he needed the disciples to be empowered to continue his work. They had to know from the inside out that they were being called to embody this compassion, forgiveness, and inclusivity that Jesus taught and lived. In this teaching, Jesus creatively linked commandment and love to help the disciples know the kind of relationship that they could have with God, and how to live together even after Jesus was gone.
If we look at the whole of chapter 15, Jesus is describing the kind of relationship that is possible when the disciples choose to follow him. He uses the poetic imagery of vine and branches and abiding in him, in verses 1-7. He shows that the relationship he has with God is possible also for the disciples. When we tend and nurture our relationship with God our lives bear fruit. In the verses we are looking at today Jesus is expanding this command to include love for each other. This love and relationship that God showed to us through Christ has no boundaries. It is expansive, it reaches out to all and draws all people to it.
As we look at this command to love it’s helpful to look at this in Jesus’ religious context. The Jewish faith is based in God’s commandments and law. God communicated directly to them through the giving of the law. The story of God freeing them from slavery in Egypt is central to their understanding of God’s love and care for them and the story of Moses receiving the law on Mt. Sinai made them into a people, a nation. The law was part of God’s covenant with the Jews. If the people follow God’s commandments, God will be with them, leading and guiding them, making their lives meaningful and fulfilling. The commandments are the very heart of their religion, the core of their identity as a people. The priests and students of the law lived and breathed this law. It was their very life blood. It gave life meaning and it was the way this community functioned and how it lasted.
However, during the 1st century the outside world was so threatening that they started doing everything they could to shore up their identity; emphasizing what made them unique and set apart from those who wished to take over. Greek and Roman culture threatened Jewish identity and Roman occupation threatened their very existence. They became more and more restrictive on how the law was interpreted and it became more legalistic. I wonder if it is similar to how the Anabaptists, out of their experience of persecution, separated themselves from the broader culture hoping to preserve their identity and remain faithful to their vision of the Kingdom of God. Being a faithful disciple of Jesus started to include how one dressed and how different one could be from the “world” that threatened their faith and life.
When we feel attacked or our world is uncertain it is hard to remember to love. When all we want to do is protect ourselves we feel a need to know very clearly who is in and who is out. Who is to be trusted and who must we guard against. So we create rules to make those definitions as distinct as possible in order to preserve what we want to protect.
The only problem with this way of survival is that it set up very sharp boundaries of who is out and who is in; who is chosen and who is not. By linking command and love, Jesus broke open this calcified perspective and said, The law is not about just following the right rules, it’s about being in relationship with God and doing it with love. It’s commandment and it’s love because love is what holds us, love is what ultimately should be our guide in and through the law. If you live that way then you are connected to me, you are connected to God, you are connected to each other. In fact if you can hold these two together, when you really get this connection, then you are no longer a slave, you no longer do it because it’s what you’re supposed to do or you’re being forced to, but you are now a friend because you do it for love.
Another way to look at it is that all sense of creativity has been squeezed out of the law. It had become so rigid it had become lifeless and humorless. We need artists and clowns and folks who can help us hold more lightly the law and our lives. We need people who can take the ordinary experiences and problems of our lives and reflect them back to us in new ways. We need the artists’ eye to breathe fresh air and understanding into what it means to be present to our lives and the world. Then we can see past our own limited view points to see all the possibilities for love.
One of the most amazing thing to me about Jesus as a person was his ability to know his tradition inside and out, respect it, uphold it, be dedicated to it and yet hold it lightly enough that he could see the possibility for pushing the boundaries, for seeing the law in new, fresh ways. He creatively lived it in a way that gave his tradition depth and vitality and we see this here in this passage. Jesus taught his disciples that law should be infused with love because God has invited us into a relationship. This relationship demands no less than laying down one’s life but it also is what gives life fullness and joy.
This deep, inner joy comes from giving of ourselves to each other out of love. We sometimes hold impartiality or objectivity above love and I think there needs to be justice, fairness, and impartiality as part of it too. But Jesus says that love is indespensible. If you really want to follow me, if you really want to be partners with God and me in creating God’s reign you have to figure out what it means to follow the law and to do it in love. Then you’ll really get what God is trying to do in this world.
What really inspires you to love? Who has demonstrated this love? When has that kind of love been extended to you? When have you extended that love to others?
We all act out our love most of the time. We love our families, friends, community and we show that love constantly in concrete ways. But what happens when we don’t’ feel love in the case of injustices or when people mistreat us? How do we live out love then?
Many of you may remember last year Angelina Atyam from Uganda told her story to us. She participated in the Summer Peacebuilding Institute. For many years rebels in Uganda have kidnapped children to make them into soldiers or sex slaves. Angelina’s daughter, Charlotte was one such child. Immediately after her daughter was kidnapped, Angela started getting together with other parents’ whose children were kidnapped. They started to organize to talk to the government as well as the rebel leaders to negotiate their childrens’ release. As the parents influence gained momentum the rebel leader sent a message to Angelina. He told her they would release her daughter if she would stop organizing the parents. Angelina sent him a message back and said no. She will only stop organizing the parents and protesting, when the rebels return all the children and promise not to kidnap any more. Her daughter was not released and Angelina kept working to help free the kidnapped children. 5 years later her daughter was able to escape captivity with her two sons and they were re-united with Angelina. She continues to organize this parents group and share her story with people around the world, trying to raise awareness about what’s going on and bring reconciliation between the rebels and the government so the kidnapping will stop.
That in itself is an amazing story, but there’s another story that’s behind this that gave Angelina the strength and courage to do this. When Angelina and these parents first got together every week they would fast together and pray for their children’s release. They always ended their time with the Lord’s prayer. The part of the prayer that says, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” was very difficult to pray. This was a counter-intuitive command. How in the world could they possibly forgive the rebels for stealing and killing children? But they continued to pray and wrestle with this idea and command to forgive. And the most extraordinary thing began to happen. The more they prayed to forgive, the more they realized their own need for forgiveness. The more they opened themselves to their own need for forgiveness the more they could see the way to forgive. The deeper they allowed this relationship between each other and with God to unfold the more they were able to see themselves as extending forgiveness and love to even their worst enemies. This is how Angelina could find the strength to stay in solidarity with the other parents even though it meant that her daughter would not be immediately released. This is how the parents group can continue to say to the government and the global community; we want reconciliation with the rebels, not retribution.
This is what Jesus is talking about. God’s commands are not to be seen as simply rules to follow. Slaves who have no power are expected to do this. But when we can live into the love that God offers us and that Christ embodied, then these commands can become life giving guidelines for all our relationships and provide real ground for peace and justice in our world. Then we truly are God’s friends and co-creators of a household of love and peace. AMEN
"Is Pacifism Ever An Idol"
Shalom Mennonite Congregation, Harrisonburg, VA—May 17, 2009
Ted Grimsrud
Exodus 20:1-7; Matthew 22:34-40; 1 John 4:18-21
My sermon today is about “idolatry.” Before I share my thoughts, though, I would like to start with word associations from you after I read three passages that speak of idols and of God’s priorities. As I read, think about what you think of when you think of “idolatry.” What are “idols?” How do we know if something is an “idol”? Exodus 20:1-7 : I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of slavery in Egypt; you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make idols, nothing in the form of any created entity. You shall not worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, there will be consequences to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me, but I will show steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses the Lord’s name.
Matthew 22:34-40
: One of the Pharisees, a lawyer, tested Jesus with a question. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ Jesus answered, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
1 John 4:18-21 : There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. We love because God first loved us. Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their neighbors are liars; for those who do not love a neighbor whom they have seen, cannot love God who they have not seen. The commandment we have from Jesus is this: those who love God must love their neighbors also.
So, “idolatry”—what do you associate with idolatry?…
Pacifism as an “Idol”?
One of the last things I would have expected to see associated with idolatry would be pacifism—especially among Mennonites. But life is full of surprises. This month is now thirty-three years since I first found a strong sense of clarity and realized that I could never participate in war. That clarity was followed by discovering the writings of John Howard Yoder a few months later—theology that helped me understand my new commitment as biblically and intellectually valid. And that was followed a couple of years later by discovering the small Mennonite fellowship in Eugene, Oregon. Kathleen and I still talk about our first encounters with that congregation—Christian pacifists with a strong tradition to back them up. So after a time at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary studying with Yoder and others, an experience that deepened our sense of at-homeness with the Mennonite tradition, we were ready to throw in our lot with this peace-oriented community.
Then my eyes were opened a bit in my first experience of preaching in a Mennonite congregation other than Eugene. I was asked to talk about a pacifist response to nuclear weapons—and my sermon set off a bitter debate among some church members, a few of whom found my pacifism and its critical stance toward US militarism to be offensive.
A number of years later, when we moved to South Dakota and I preached on peace I was quickly warned not to push this theme too hard—“remember, we have proud military veterans in our congregation and we don’t want to offend them.” Then, we ended up among the Mennonites in Virginia and not long after moving here we learned of congregations leaving the Mennonite Church, in part, they said, because the church had made pacifism an idol.
The impetus for this particular sermon came a few months ago. A review of my book, Embodying the Way of Jesus, came out and the reviewer wrote that my discussion of God and pacifism “comes perilously close to idolatry.” I thought, wow, what’s going on here? I am challenged to ask, is pacifism ever an idol?
One way to address this question is to go back to the Bible and to try to think carefully about what we might have in mind when we talk both about “pacifism” and about “idolatry.” I believe when we carefully define both pacifism and idolatry, and look at them in light of the Bible’s core message, we will be led to conclude that, no, pacifism (when properly understood) can never be an idol.
Pacifism as Boundary-less Love
We need to start by defining “pacifism.” We could go on and on about this—as I do every year in my “History and Philosophy of Nonviolence” class. Several years ago a bright student suggested we try to change the pronunciation from “passive-ism” to “pach-ifism” since the root word is the Latin term for peace, pacem. But this hasn’t caught on yet—and I’m not sure a mere pronunciation change would solve that much.
But this is what I believe “pacifism” means: The belief that no value or conviction or cause ever makes it morally acceptable to act violently toward another person. The best way to talk about what pacifism means is to speak in terms of basic human rights or basic respect for others or the kind of compassion and concern we call love.
The point pacifism makes is that we place no boundaries on what kind of people deserve these rights, this respect, this love. Other ways of thinking allow for some kind of boundary, under some circumstances, regarding to whom we owe love—like, maybe we don’t owe love to our nation’s enemies, convicted murderers, people of the wrong age, gender, ethnicity, or sexual identity. A pacifist simply says that every person under every circumstance retains their value and humanity—and thus must not be treated with violence.
We see this boundary-less love in the costly welcome Christian pacifists gave Jewish refugees in LeChambon, France, during World War II. We see it in the Rev. James Lawson’s life of active pacifism—from working to integrate Nashville fifty years ago to very recent witness against the war on Iraq.
Now, it could be, I suppose, that pacifism understood in this way might become an idol—if we discover something more important than love for each person. Pacifism might be an idol if our pacifist commitment causes us to minimize something that is more important to God than love. But is there such a thing?
Idols and the Commandments
Let’s look at a few texts from the Bible that talk about idolatry and God’s priorities. The passage from Exodus 20, the beginning of the Ten Commandments, may perhaps be the most fundamental statement about idolatry in all of the Bible. But before we get to the commands we must notice what we learn about the God who is contrasted with the idols. God here is characterized in quite specific terms—this is the God who liberated the Hebrew people from slavery.
The commands do tell us about this God being supreme, a jealous God, in fact. But, we must remember this is not a God above and separate from life on earth. This God is not apolitical, one who relativizes all human concerns and convictions.
In at least some of the talk about pacifism as idolatry, one gets the sense of a basic contrast between worshiping a God who opposes all violence and oppression and worshiping what we could call an autonomous God, separated from human interests.
Well, the God who begins these great commands by forbidding the making of idols is very much an engaged, committed God. You listen to this God, you offer this God your basic loyalty, because this God liberates you from slavery. This God takes sides—over against the injustice and violence of the Pharaoh, on the side of the vulnerable and oppressed.
The very first command God gives, “You shall not make idols.” This command tells us that the problem with idols is that they compete for loyalty with the God who liberates and brings healing to brokenness. We learn as the story goes on what the competing gods are like—the idols underwrite kings’ land grabs that drive people off the land, the idols stand with the rulers of empires who conquer and dominate, and—ultimately—the idols transform Israel itself from a community of liberated slaves to a place following all too closely the injustices of the nations. We see the problem in the book of Amos—when the people go to worship, they sin. They can’t worship the true God and oppress the vulnerable at the same time.
The Old Testament commands work this way—first, God brings salvation, frees slaves, gives them Torah to guide their live, gives them the land where they may embody the healing work of God among humanity. Then, in response, the people offer this God their highest loyalty. They prove their loyalty when they follow the commands to care for vulnerable ones, and to maintain a society that practices genuine justice for all.
The Greatest Command According to Jesus
When Jesus comes onto the scene, he does not (contrary to what all too many Christians have assumed) turn away from Torah and proclaim a new beginning. Very succinctly, our words from Matthew make clear that Jesus understood himself to be firmly in line with Torah and the prophets.
What’s the greatest command? We could reword this question in light of our reflections on idolatry—how do we avoid idolatry and follow the true God? In a word, we love. We love God. And remember, as Jesus’ entire ministry makes very clear, to love God is not to love a disengaged spirit being who takes us away from the nitty gritty of real life. Jesus says it this way: “A second command is like the first”—or maybe, we could say, the command that is the greatest includes both to love God and to love neighbor. And Jesus insists this is the same command that Moses reported from God on Mt. Sinai and the same command the prophets challenged Israel to follow amidst their violences and injustices.
We get a fuller sense of Jesus’ understanding of this great commandment when the gospel of Luke reports on a similar encounter. Jesus plays like Socrates and gets his questioner to supply the answer—the central command, the one that leads to eternal life, involves whole-hearted love for God and joins that with love for neighbor.
The lawyer zeroes in. He knows that to love God means to love the neighbor—and that how one carries this out determines one’s salvation. So, who’s my neighbor? he asks. How is it, in particular, that I am being asked to love God? How might I commit myself to God and not to an idol?
Jesus answers with the story of the Good Samaritan. He makes it painfully clear to the lawyer that to love God means to love the neighbor—and the neighbor to be loved is the person in need, the victim of violence, the vulnerable and oppressed person. And the model of this kind of love is a Samaritan—the enemy of faithful Jews.
Jesus tells us here that there is nothing as important as love for the neighbor—and that the neighbor includes the enemy. Nothing is as important as this—it is the command upon which salvation rests. Let’s go back to our definition of pacifism. No boundaries mark off who deserves our love. First-century Jews and Samaritans, believed there was a boundary—loyalty to the truth about where and how God is to be worshiped was more important than loving those who disagree. Jesus’ response to the question about the greatest commandment undercuts that kind of boundary.
Paul and John on What Matters Most
So, we get a clear sense that the greatest command centered on love of neighbor. In Romans, Paul leaves the “love God” part only implied and zeroes in on the part that matters most: “The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law” (13:9-10).
Paul quotes Exodus 20’s commandments. Though he doesn’t mention the first commandment about idolatry, he clearly directly links all the commands with the call to love. The clearest and one reliable criterion that tells us when we cross the line into idolatry is when we fail to love. We may think something takes priority over the call to love. We may think something justifies placing boundaries for what kind of people toward whom we show kindness, compassion, and respect. But when we do so, we have almost certainly crossed the line into idolatry.
Paul, like Jesus, denies the possibility that pacifism can ever be an idol. Pacifism, in fact, when we understand it as meaning simply that we don’t place boundaries on who deserves our kindness and respect, may be seen as our most helpful and clear criterion to help us understand idolatry.
Let me add one more voice. The verses from 1 John 4:18-21 make the same kinds of points, actually more or less summarizing what we have seen in Exodus, Amos, Matthew, Luke, and Romans.
“We love because God first loved us.”
Exodus 20 begins the commands with the affirmation that first God loved the Hebrews enough from liberate them from slavery. Everything that follows stems from that first love of God.
“Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their neighbors are liars.”
We cannot separate the call to love God and to love neighbor. Any claim or desire to love God that allows one to practice disrespect, violence, or even disregard toward our fellow human beings is actually an act of idolatry. We may claim to love God but our actions and attitudes show that we do not.
“Those who do not love a neighbor whom they have seen, cannot love God who they have not seen.”
This is why we need to see that Jesus’ love command states that the only way we can love God is to love our fellow human beings. God as unseen spirit, an autonomous God, is an abstraction, a principle, a mere figment of the human imagination. This kind of God cannot be loved. The way we love God is most centrally to love our neighbors—who we see, the people with whom we share life.
“The commandment we have from Jesus is this: those who love God must love their neighbors also.”
And, as we saw, Jesus insists that this is the commandment we have from Moses as well. The antidote to idolatry is to love God—the way to love God is to love the neighbor.
Pacifism and Idolatry
So, is pacifism ever an idol? I think not. In fact, pacifism should be the Christian’s measure for discernment concerning idolatry. If we seek to worship the true God, we find ourselves with this basic choice. Will we see this worship leading us directly to love of others, without boundaries, recognizing the value and worth of each person? Will we understand our worship of God to lead us to affirm the sacredness of each human life? Or is worship of God something self-contained, an end in itself, the worship of a disembodied, non-engaged spirit?
Well, I have, of course, only touched on a few small passages from the Bible. I find it highly ironic, though, to think of some of the people I have encountered who portray pacifism as perilously close to idolatry. They critique pacifism in the name of the Bible. They accuse pacifists of being unbiblical.
Well, I find the evidence to point in precisely the opposite direction. We seek to read the Bible front to back, hold the pieces together, and understand the story to culminate in Jesus. Then, we see that loving our neighbor without boundaries is precisely the one thing that can never be an idol. Let us worship the true God—and seek genuine freedom from any idol that would lead us to compromise that worship by placing boundaries on who and when we love.
"Living Outside the Box: A Sequel"
Shalom Mennonite Congregation, Harrisonburg, VA—May 10, 2009 Last Sunday Emily North invited us to "live outside the box" and thus gain a "new understanding of what God is doing in the world." I quote from her conclusion: "Christ’s resurrection jump started a community that was devastated by their own limited thinking of what was possible." Thus our source of inspiration for living outside the box can be found in the life of Jesus, but if you forgot your Bible this morning, let's open our laptops to see what Wikipedia tells us about this subject.
I am quoting or paraphrasing Wikipedia: According to Martin Kihn, consultants of the 1970s and 1980s tried to make their prospective clients feel inferior by presenting them with a puzzle in which the challenge was to connect nine dots by drawing four straight, continuous lines. The puzzle is easily solved, but only if you draw the lines outside of the confines of the square area defined by the nine dots themselves. Thus, the phrase "thinking outside the box" was born.
"Thinking outside of the box" was not a concept I associate with the sermons I heard as a boy at West Union Mennonite Church in southeastern Iowa. My mother judged them on the preacher's ability to quote scripture, his courage to castigate sin and his faithfulness in upholding traditional values that included nonconformity, nonresistance, care of the land, humility, honesty and hard work: all important values, but not presented in a very creative or prophetic way.
From all those messages I remember only one and that because I felt embarrassed for my grandfather, Harvey M. Yoder. As a deacon and retired farmer, he preached occasionally, perhaps once a month. One Sunday morning he opened his Bible to Isaiah to expound on the prophet's vision. I don't remember which passage he chose, but I do know that he compared Isaiah's vision to a modern and obviously inferior invention--television which made it possible for people to see at a distance. My own inner conflict etched the sermon in my memory. Although I respected and loved my grandfather, I was fascinated by the forbidden fruit of television. Some ten years ago I drew upon those contradictory feelings for part of a larger work of fiction. The young boy Darrell discovers that Clayton, his Sunday school teacher, owns a television set. While the incident and the teacher are figments of my imagination, I believe the following excerpt captures some of the feelings I had as a child.
Clayton's bedroom upstairs did not look like the farm. Nothing was out of place--not even a book or stray sock. The top of the dresser held only a crocheted doily and a television set.
"You didn't know I had a TV?" Picking up his flashlight where it belonged in the top dresser drawer beside a pocket knife, Clayton had seen at a glance the surprise in Darrell's eyes.
How could Darrell have known? His teacher had never spoken of that other world whose door opened at the click of a switch. In Sunday School class not once had he begun an illustration with, "What I saw on TV last night reminds me of. . . " It was hard to imagine how he could have simply passed over so much magic, never making reference to quiet evenings wrapped in the intimacy of a soft, flickering light. It was all so unlike Lonnie who each week reviewed the latest I Love Lucy show for Darrell's benefit. So vivid were Lonnie's descriptions of what he had seen that Darrell was able to follow the TV talk of the Williams kids at school.
"I always watch the news; it's educational." Not sure if Darrell's silence indicated disapproval or envy, Clayton continued. "I don't watch a lot of movies."
In his last sermon Grandpa had preached about television--God's television. "My text this morning is from Acts--Acts 16:9." A flutter of thin leaves turning. Behind the microphone, tilted
down so it no longer hid part of his face and bald head, Grandpa had paused so that everybody could follow his reading. "And a vision appeared to Paul in the night; There stood a man of Macedonia, and prayed him, saying, Come over into Macedonia, and help us." Mama, Darrell knew, would be marking the verse, writing in the date and sermon title in tiny red letters that would not spoil her Bible.
"Television is seeing from afar," Grandpa announced. "Paul saw a man at a distance. He heard him speaking. He had television. Christians don't need the world's television. We have something better." And Grandpa went on, comparing God's television to the modern trash that some people were bringing into their homes. Frustrated by Christians who knew better than to darken the doors of movie theaters, the devil found other ways of attacking the righteous. Now there were drive-ins and television. And some people hid their aerials in an attic, bothered to see their homes marked by the sign of worldly pleasure. Not once did Grandpa attack directly--call the box a sin. It had not become a test of membership. Darrell knew of at least three families at Hickory Creek, who had TV. It was different with the Conservative Mennonites. At South Union no one was allowed a radio, much less TV, and when Peter Bontrager bought his used Mercury with a radio already in it, the aerial came off before Sunday morning.
A TV! Darrell wasn't upset with Clayton. Surprised, but not upset. "I'll bet you watch TV every night." He found his hand reaching out to touch the sleek plastic cover, fondling a friend he recognized from the Sears and Roebuck catalog. Clayton's TV looked exactly like the picture--the half-hidden loudspeaker with the RCA insignia on the bottom, two knobs on the side, a big thirteen-inch screen that was almost square--not dwarfed by the large console of the older models. In the catalog two fighters filled the screen because boxing was a sport made for television. The glass of Clayton's TV was blank, reflecting only Darrell's head and the window panes behind him.
"Not every evening--the news maybe, but sometimes I have to work late and I like to read." Not every evening. Darrell tried to imagine the freedom that lay behind his teacher's casual response. To decide whether to watch or not to watch in his own room! It was all so different from the short snatches which he stole at Sears in Iowa City as he waited for Papa and Mama to finish their shopping. When the Hawkeye quarterback, faked with such cleverness Darrell found himself fooled on almost every play, seeing little more than a blind radio listener.
I understood why my grandfather would favor spiritual visions over electronic entertainment, but I was embarrassed because he had no firsthand experience. People who listened to sermons on Sunday morning and watched TV the rest of the time knew that television easily trumped biblical visions. They must have been amused rather than persuaded by Grandpa's condemnation.
Now I see a lot of my grandfather in myself. To demonstrate my ability to think outside the box, I have criticized everything from word processing, white boards, video games, science fiction, email, text messaging to smart classrooms, answering machines, CB radios, cell phones and various building projects. I have confused prophetic visions with ordinary conservatism.. Like my grandfather I have expounded upon the worthlessness of things not yet experienced.
According to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, a visionary is one "whose ideas or projects are impractical" or one who has "unusual foresight and imagination.". You might say that a visionary is a religious prophet who sees into the future because of superior spiritual insight or is a scientist who has the ability to understand the implications of cutting edge technology. That said, false prophets abound whether they be end-times fundamentalists or capitalistic preachers of economic prosperity. Neither foresaw our current economic chaos, global warming or the consequences of war. Both our religious preachers and our priests of science and technology, come as messengers of hope and despair. That should not surprise us. Throughout the book of Isaiah, the writer alternates between these two visions.
Chapters one and two are typical. First Isaiah warns of "wounds and welts and open sores, not cleansed or bandaged or soothed with oil. . . Your country is desolate, your cities burned with fire; your fields are being stripped by foreigners right before you . . . "
Then in chapter two the promise of agricultural productivity trumps war itself. God "will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. They will beat their swords into plow and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. Come, O house of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the Lord."
These words of hope and despair from Isaiah remind us of our own contradictory views of the future. Are we ushering in economic, environmental and moral disasters or a new era of peace? Both perspectives are necessary because the future is open. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus open up new connections that are reinforced, not contradicted by the growth of human knowledge.
My grandfather's limited knowledge kept him from seeing the potential value of television. He also had a narrow view of the negative side effects of this "cool distraction." For me, television and all things digital that make it possible for us to see at a distance will always be something of a paradox not unlike our definition of a visionary.
Despite my grandfather's ignorance, his commitment to the way of Jesus was evident; he did not always think or see outside of the box, but he often lived that way, faithful to his Anabaptist heritage and community.
By changing the expression "thinking outside the box" to "living outside the box" Emily reminds us that visions by themselves are of little value if we do not act upon them. The importance of a obedience is stressed in yet another passage of Isaiah. I am reading from Isaiah 56:4-8:
"This is what the LORD says: I will remember the castrated men who keep my days of worship, choose what pleases me, and faithfully observe the conditions of my promise. Inside my house and within my walls, I will give them something better than sons and daughters. I will give them a monument and a name. I will give them a permanent name that will not be forgotten.
And I will remember the foreigners who have joined the LORD to worship him, to love the LORD's name, and to be his servants. All of them will keep the day of worship from becoming unholy and will faithfully observe the conditions of my promise.
Then I will bring them to my holy mountain and make them happy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, because my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.
The Almighty LORD, who gathers the scattered people of Israel, declares, "I will gather still others besides those I have already gathered."
I like this vision from Isaiah because it takes us out of the box of a narrow Zionism. Those who keep the days of worship and observe the conditions of God's promise will receive a a monument and a permanent name. Money, power and descendants are not required. That holy and happy gathering will include foreigners and others who have not yet been gathered. May God give us the courage and compassion to live outside the box. May we ascend God's holy mountain to claim a view that extends throughout the earth and beyond, a vision limited by neither time nor space.
That sounded like the last sentence of a sermon, but I need to add a P.S. to take care of this TV that may have been a distraction. (Reference is to a TV with a sign taped to it: "A Cool Distraction.") A few weeks ago Lisa Schirch reminded the children that people go to the desert to escape distractions; she used TV as an example That drew a quick response from one of the boys: "TV is a cool distraction." His reaction sums up part what I have been trying to convey in my message. Television, all things digital, technology and scientific knowledge themselves are really cool. They help us to understand ourselves and the natural world and must be taken seriously. They are also a distraction, allowing us to see at a distance without requiring obedience to the ways of God as they are interpreted through the life of Jesus.
"Living Outside the Box"
When I was about 3 years out of college, I was struggling with my social work job. I thought this was what I should be doing but I couldn’t see the goodness, all I could see was the poverty, chaos, violence, sadness. So I quit. I wasn’t sure what I would do but I enjoyed sewing, so I walked into my favorite fabric store and filled out an application. Measuring, cutting, and folding fabric, consulting with customers, and making clothes for myself and others put me on a path of healing my soul. Working in retail was nothing great, but walking into a building everyday that was filled with colors and textures that invited my imagination and creativity was almost breathtaking for me. Even though that’s obviously not what I do for a living I recognize the need in my life for creativity: activities and things that spark in me new ideas, that take me out of old patterns or habits to help me see my life in new ways.
I think of Easter as a time for healing our souls and for seeing our lives and the world through new eyes because of Jesus’ resurrection. God invites us to make new, creative connections to things that seemed disjointed, out of sync, and maybe even hopelessly lifeless. These conversations and interactions between the disciples and Jesus after his death, helped jump start their imaginations to see Jesus’ life and ministry in a new light. This led them out of their despair into believing that the power of hope and love was indeed resurrected and they were invited to be part of this movement.
I’d like us to think today about what helps us see outside the box. What creative moments, places, and people help us make the connections to see our lives in new ways? What spurs us on to live in tune with our deeper selves? What give us the energy and inspiration to be people of peace, hope and compassion?
And I especially want to encourage the graduates among us to think about what in the last 4 years has helped you to think and act creatively? Who and what needs to be in your life to remind you of your highest values and keep you connected to Christ’s resurrection power? And what do you want to take with you in this next chapter of your life?
Let’s look at this story and see what things Jesus did and said that helped open the disciples’ eyes to this new reality. This passage begins shortly after the women ran from Jesus’ empty tomb. A few hours later 2 disciples were deep in disbelief and fear. I imagine they were overwhelmed with grief from their teacher’s execution. In the midst of this they received the news that the women who went to Jesus’ tomb found his body was gone. Not only that but they were told he was raised from the dead. What could this possibly mean? What really happened? Out of this turmoil and anguish they headed out from Jerusalem towards Emmaus. On the road, a stranger came up to them and they told him their story. This supposed stranger was able to connect what Jesus said and did to what their scriptures had described as the messiah. The words he spoke, the connections he made helped them see that something bigger than they imagined was possible and was happening.
This man intrigued them so they convinced him to have supper with them. They wanted to hear more. When they sat down to eat, Jesus blessed the bread and suddenly their eyes were opened and they realized it was Jesus. The gestures and words that Jesus used at their last meal together rang true. The words revealed to them that their teacher and friend was with them, teaching them just as he did when he was alive. I like the two phrases that are used when they had their aha moments, “their eyes were opened” and “their hearts were burning within them”. They really got it, not just with their minds but with their whole being: their bodies and hearts.
They ran back to Jerusalem to tell the rest of the disciples. It was when they were gathered and recounted this conversation and meal with Jesus that he appeared again. He greeted them and then offered his body to them to touch and feel that indeed he was alive, and then he asked for food to eat. He then again talked with them about how the Scriptures point to something new happening, a new understanding of what God is doing in the world.
What a gift to the disciples. Despite their betrayal and desertion, Jesus offered them acceptance and love. Jesus appeared to them, blessed them, blessed their bodies, their humanity, their need for each other, the need for food. It’s out of that recognition of God’s love for humanity that Jesus showed who they were and who God called them to do. Even though we experience so poignantly our weaknesses there is always forgiveness and love. God’s love for humanity keeps animating us, keeps forming us into people of compassion.
This sharing and eating reminds me of the central role eating together can have to connect us to each other and help us think beyond ourselves. When I think of the best conversations in my life they were at dinner tables, whether it was with extended family around giant tables at holidays, dinner tables at college, or friends’ homes. I think of our potlucks here and the excellent connecting conversations that happen when we sit down to eat. There’s something about eating and drinking with others that opens space for a different connection. An intimacy is possible maybe because our basic needs are met in that moment. We feel safe enough to be vulnerable, to dream, and to be known.
At the same time sometimes we can see most clearly a new way of thinking by hearing the truth that we know from a stranger. In this story it took a supposed stranger to make the connections that Jesus repeatedly made while he was alive. How many times did Jesus quote the prophets or tell parables and the disciples were not enlightened? Every time he talked about the possibility of his death the disciples could not fathom why it would happen. The only time they did understand Jesus was when he took them aside and spelled it out for them. There was something about the state they were in after his death and how the stranger spoke about the scripture that woke the disciples up to something new and different. And sometimes it takes a stranger saying the truth we’ve heard time and again to waken to the truth in a new way. I’m reminded of the Rumi quote:
"Today, like every other day, we wake up empty The disciples were trapped in their limited thinking. They couldn’t see beyond the absolutely hopeless situation. There was no doubt Jesus died. All their hopes and dreams came crashing down. They remembered and held close their memories in what Jesus said and did. Their encounter with Jesus on the road to Emmaus opened their eyes to understand their lives differently. Jesus took what was the heart of their faith and gave them new eyes to see what his life was all about. They were able to see connections, draw lines that re-named the meaning of the possibilities for their lives.
The power of creativity is not just thinking but living outside the box. It also opens us to miracles, opens us to the doubts and faith, to beauty and pain. It unleashes our creativity to see past what seems to be the only way to do things or understand things.
I am reminded of the women of Chile who gathered together in the plaza everyday, mourning the disappearance of their sons and husbands. It was this daily gathering together, seeing that they were not alone, that gave them the inspiration and courage to organize and protest the government’s role in the disappearances of so many men. They also started weaving into their traditional tapestries or arpilleras the stories of the injustices of the Pinochet government. As they created and shared their tapestries, they started workshops and schools to both teach the craft of these tapestries as well as empower and speak up for women’s rights.
Creativity speaks to a truth that gets covered up by convention, busy living, and apathy. It can speak to a truth about pain and suffering, or joy and celebration. It illuminates or amplifies our human experience in ways that help us see our lives in a new way. . I am grateful for the creativity at Shalom. The music, art, how we teach our kids, how we make church happen in a non-traditional space speak to the wonderful gifts and creativity of us all. Because I preach about every 3 weeks, we often hear different voices, different perspectives, different stories. You are open to different ways to worship and to everyone participating. All of these activate our creativity to keep re-seeing re-membering, re-thinking what it means to be followers of Jesus. I am grateful for all of you who have and are willing to talk from this podium despite your lack of confidence or worry that you’re too unorthodox or too orthodox. We need to hear from each other. We need to see different people in front of us. What we do here is a source of inspiration for how we live the rest of the week.
At the same time I’d like to challenge us to more creativity. What do we see among us that is giving us new ideas for how we want to be a community of faith? Who or what is among us that is sparking our imagination about how we do worship? How we use our space or what new space we might need? What inspired conversations do we need to connect the dots for new ways being a faith community?
Christ’s resurrection jump started a community that was devastated by their own limited thinking of what was possible. May we be open to this same resurrection creativity among us.
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |