Proper 24-A 10/19/2008
St. Paul’s
Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22

Whose head is this, and whose title?

I remember in the 1970s, a lot of people advocated not paying the federal tax on our phone bills, because that federal phone tax went right to the military. Tax resistance was one way people could resist war, and this passage from Matthew was often cited on both sides of that debate. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” No, said the tax resisters, Christians should not pay unlawful war taxes. Yes, said others. Taxes are of this world, and Jesus said we had a duty to support the rulers of this world, even with our taxes, even if our true loyalties lie with God.

I don’t know where you would land on the war tax resistance debate, but the point is, this passage is not about whether religious people should pay taxes; people in 1st century Palestine paid a lot of taxes. Jews had to pay the Temple tax – 21 percent! Everyone had to pay customs taxes on what goods they traded. If you were a farmer (and 90 percent of the population were farmers), two-thirds of what you earned went to the Roman and Jewish elite, through a combination of how much you were taxed and who owned the land you farmed. In those days, they really ensured that the rich got rich and the poor got poorer. But with this coin with the face of Caesar – this was really offensive to Jews, to all Jews, who lived by God’s commandment not to make graven images (remember last week’s story of the golden calf?). This coin with the face of Caesar had to be used to pay the tribute tax to the Roman Empire. If you used this coin with the graven image to pay the tribute tax, you were breaking one of the Commandments handed down by God to Moses. If you did not use this coin – if you did not pay the tax – the Romans would lock you up for sedition, and that is much worse than being audited by the IRS.

Just about everyone who reads this passage from Matthew acknowledges that Jesus knows that his opponents are trying to trick him with this question, and so he cleverly avoids the trap. He dismisses the problem with the coin as not a theological one at all: this coin obviously belongs to Caesar, so give it back to him. So what? It’s only money.

Then he lays out the theological problem: Give to God what belongs to God.

In our lives, what does belong to our equivalent to Caesar? In our lives, what does belong to God? Most of us, most of the time, pay taxes. “Caesar” has to know how much money we have, or how much we spend, in order to tax us, and here in the United States, many people spend a lot of money, both legally and under the table, to avoid paying taxes. A lot of people aren’t even “rendering unto Caesar” but shaving a little (or a lot) off the top before Caesar knows what’s happening.

So what do we do with that money that is NOT rendered unto Caesar? With that money that, in the United States at least, does not go into fixing the roads on which we all drive, or the emergency services we all hope will be there when we need them, or the schools where we learned to read and write? How many people seem to exercise a “preferential option for middle class living over living the gospel?” If we’re not giving to Caesar what is Caesar’s, are we giving to God what is God’s?

Think about it: What is God’s? What do we owe God?

Our good friends the Sisters of St. Margaret are here today to talk about the work they are doing with the people in Haiti whose lives, livelihoods and homes were destroyed or damaged by hurricanes, floods and landslides. I think many people in Haiti were very poor already, like those poor farmers in 1st century Palestine, and like 1st century Palestine, those who own the land and collect the taxes in Haiti get the first cut of whatever the people earn.

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s; give to God what is God’s.

Brockton is not a wealthy community. Many of us in this congregation depend on the kindness of others to get through the week. Many of us count on that meal at St. Paul’s Table. Many of us know what it is like to have our homes threatened or even taken from us. Many of us know what it is to lose our jobs or not to be able to make a living. Many of us know the worry of not being able to take care of our children. Some of us cheat a little bit to evade paying taxes, and for others of us, Caesar is very harsh indeed.

We, more than many people, know what the people of Haiti have gone through. We also know how hard it is to offer care and food and shelter day after day to the people who have very little left after Caesar has extracted his due.

We thank you, sisters, for being here today, to remind us that the world is a very small place, and to remind us that as harsh as Caesar can be, this world, and all of us in it, belong to God. Thank you for helping us give to God what is God’s.

Whose image is this?

Proper 24-A

10/19/2008

St. Paul’s

Exodus 33:12-23,Psalm 99, 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10, Matthew 22:15-22

I started out the sermon by passing out coins, and asking the congregation,

Whose head is this, and whose title?

I remember in the 1970s, a lot of people advocated not paying the federal tax on our phone bills, because that federal phone tax went right to the military. Tax resistance was one way people could resist war, and this passage from Matthew was often cited on both sides of that debate. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” No, said the tax resisters, Christians should not pay unlawful war taxes. Yes, said others. Taxes are of this world, and Jesus said we had a duty to support the rulers of this world, even with our taxes, even if our true loyalties lie with God.

I don’t know where you would land on the war tax resistance debate, but the point is, this passage is not about whether religious people should pay taxes; people in 1st century Palestine paid a lot of taxes. Jews had to pay the Temple tax – 21 percent! Everyone had to pay customs taxes on what goods they traded. If you were a farmer (and 90 percent of the population were farmers), two-thirds of what you earned went to the Roman and Jewish elite, through a combination of how much you were taxed and who owned the land you farmed. In those days, they really ensured that the rich got rich and the poor got poorer.

But with this coin with the face of Caesar – this was really offensive to Jews, to all Jews, who lived by God’s commandment not to make graven images (remember last week’s story of the golden calf?). This coin with the face of Caesar had to be used to pay the tribute tax to the Roman Empire. If you used this coin with the graven image to pay the tribute tax, you were breaking one of the Commandments handed down by God to Moses. If you did not use this coin – if you did not pay the tax – the Romans would lock you up for sedition, and that is much worse than being audited by the IRS.

Just about everyone who reads this passage from Matthew acknowledges that Jesus knows that his opponents are trying to trick him with this question, and so he cleverly avoids the trap. He dismisses the problem with the coin as not a theological one at all: this coin obviously belongs to Caesar, so give it back to him. So what? It’s only money.

Then he lays out the theological problem: Give to God what belongs to God.

In our lives, what does belong to our equivalent to Caesar? In our lives, what does belong to God?

Most of us, most of the time, pay taxes. “Caesar” has to know how much money we have, or how much we spend, in order to tax us, and here in the United States, many people spend a lot of money, both legally and under the table, to avoid paying taxes. A lot of people aren’t even “rendering unto Caesar” but shaving a little (or a lot) off the top before Caesar knows what’s happening.

So what do we do with that money that is NOT rendered unto Caesar? With that money that, in the United States at least, does not go into fixing the roads on which we all drive, or the emergency services we all hope will be there when we need them, or the schools where we learned to read and write? How many people seem to exercise a “preferential option for middle class living over living the gospel?”

If we’re not giving to Caesar what is Caesar’s, are we giving to God what is God’s?

Then I handed out pieces of paper and pencils, and asked,

Think about it: What is God’s? What do we owe God?

Does anyone want to share with the rest of us what you think?

Our good friends the Sisters of St. Margaret are here today to talk about the work they are doing with the people in Haiti whose lives, livelihoods and homes were destroyed or damaged by hurricanes, floods and landslides. I think many people in Haiti were very poor already, like those poor farmers in 1st century Palestine, and like 1st century Palestine, those who own the land and collect the taxes in Haiti get the first cut of whatever the people earn.

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s; give to God what is God’s.

Brockton is not a wealthy community. Many of us in this congregation depend on the kindness of others to get through the week. Many of us count on that meal at St. Paul’s Table. Many of us know what it is like to have our homes threatened or even taken from us. Many of us know what it is to lose our jobs or not to be able to make a living. Many of us know the worry of not being able to take care of our children. Some of us cheat a little bit to evade paying taxes, and for others of us, Caesar is very harsh indeed.

We, more than many people, know what the people of Haiti have gone through. We also know how hard it is to offer care and food and shelter day after day to the people who have very little left after Caesar has extracted his due.

We thank you, sisters, for being here today, to remind us that the world is a very small place, and to remind us that as harsh as Caesar can be, this world, and all of us in it, belong to God. Thank you for helping us give to God what is God’s.

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Notes: From Marcus Borg, “What belongs to God?” http://www.beliefnet.com/Faiths/2000/04/What-Belongs-To-God.aspx

From the Rev. Patrick Brennan, “30 Good Minutes,” http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/brennan_3711.htm

www.ssmbos.org

Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth: Economics in 2008

Proper23-A 10/12/2008 St. Paul’s

Exodus 32:1-14 Psalm 106

Philippians 4:1-9 Matthew 22:1-14

There is a party, at the bank. The bank president has mortgages to give out. He wants people to own their own homes. For some reason, the people he calls on first – people with good credit, with money in the bank – aren’t interested. They don’t come to the mortgage party. So the bank president sends the tellers out and they bring in all sorts of people, some with good credit and some with bad credit, people who had never owned homes, people who were new to American life and to American banking, as well as old timers, people who had all their paperwork in order and people who could not read or write English. All these people were called in, good and bad, and invited to get a mortgage. Then the bank president sees one of these unprepared people, no papers filled out, no credit, not much of a job, and he singles him out. “Friend, how did you get in here without papers?” The man was speechless. Then the bank president said to the security guards, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called to own a home and get a mortgage, but few are chosen.”

There is another party. This one is on Wall Street. This time the chairman of the Federal Reserve invites all the bank presidents, good and bad: the ones who loaned money to people with good credit, to people who could pay their mortgages, and the ones who loaned money to everyone, to people with no papers, no credit, no money. The ones who cared about people who wanted to own their own homes, even if they didn’t have too much money, the ones who wanted to help people, as well as the bad bank presidents, who just took advantage of people who didn’t have too much money. The chairman of the Federal Reserve looked around at the bank presidents, good and bad, and saw which ones were the best prepared for the party, which ones had made the most money. And then he grabbed one of the bank presidents by the scruff of the neck and said to him, “Friend, how did you get in here without hedge funds or derivatives, without mortgage-backed securities or sub-prime loans?” And the bank president was speechless. Then the chairman of the Federal Reserve said to the Securities and Exchange Commission, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called but few are chosen.”

Someone has been having a party in the desert with our money. Someone has taken all our jewelry and our homes and our retirement accounts and our nest eggs, and melted them down into a big golden calf. And we were invited to this party, and we all went, the good and the bad. And just like thousands of years ago in that far off desert at the foot of Mt. Sinai, God is angry. God is ready to throw everybody into the outer darkness – more than weeping and gnashing of teeth: this time God’s wrath will consume us like a hot fire.

What lessons these are for an anxious time. Are we headed into a depression? Will we all be turned out into the streets? Are we nothing but sinners in the hand of an angry God?

Are these two stories, one from Exodus and one from the Gospel of Matthew, about God’s wrath? Or God’s judgment? Or is that the same thing?

Many people do believe that God is a punishing God, that God’s judgment means we can never measure up, that we have disobeyed, that God is angry, and that that is the end of us.

Look again at what Moses did. Moses is himself pretty angry with this golden calf-fest. He sees this seemingly irreparable division between God and God’s people – between God’s expectations for their living the way God would have them live and the people’s gold-crazed worship of something else – and Moses steps right into that breach. Moses asks God to change his mind, to turn away from that justifiable anger and remember how much God loves these people, however wayward and selfish and whiny and stiff-necked they are. Moses reminds God of the promise GOD made to these very same people, and God changes his mind. There could be no worse sinners than those people who took all their money, their future, their assets, their gold, all that they had, and dumped it into something as foolish as a golden calf. There are no worse sinners than these – but the hand that holds them is the hand of a God who loves them and who keeps his promises. The story of the golden calf is a story not of God’s wrath but of God’s grace.

When Jesus tells this very troubling story of the wedding banquet, the illustrations he uses – the kingdom of heaven, the king, the slaves, the guests the wedding, the wedding garment – these are not religious images. Today we think they are religious, because we have read them for 2000 years in the Bible. But in Jesus’ day they were illustrations from the secular world. People would recognize the powerful and capricious king, the kind of ruler who had absolute control over their lives. They would recognize the arrogant ones who refused to show up, the thugs who would follow violent, death-dealing orders without question, the slaves and poor people who would cower in fear, not understanding what was going on and not knowing what would happen next. And so is this a story of God’s wrath? Or of God’s judgment? And is there any difference?

This is a story full of symbols. The kingdom of heaven represents the way the world operates when God is in charge. The wedding banquet represents the abundance of God’s grace. Who gets invited in? Everybody: the good and the bad. Even after the first guests refuse to attend, God does not seek out only the good ones – God still invites everyone in. In the kingdom of heaven there is always enough to go around. Even though all is provided – not only food but wedding clothes as well – and even at that late hour, someone is not ready. Someone does not accept the full invitation. Someone still refuses God’s grace. Someone still doesn’t get it about how God wants us to live.

The people to whom Jesus preached lived in difficult times. They lived lives of insecurity and fear, under the threat of violence and in a land where powerful people called the shots. From the point of view of life in these United States this week, we can resonate with that kind of life.

When Jesus spoke to people around him about the kingdom of heaven, he didn’t mean something far off, pie in the sky by and by. He used language that described their current reality – a reality of fear and powerlessness and insecurity – and told them that the world did not have to be like that. He told them that God was on their side. That the king would throw the scalawags out, the ones not prepared to accept God’s invitation to live as God would have them live.

Yes, this is a story of God’s judgment, but it is a story of hope. There are things that God will just not put up with, Jesus says. The world as it is – of greed, and homelessness, and violence, and fear – is not the way it has to be.

When I was preparing this sermon, and first read over the lessons, I thought that Philippians lesson -- I can’t preach on that. Too simplistic, too happy for the news of the week. But now I think just the opposite. The Philippians passage is what the wedding banquet is all about. The Philippians passage describes the life God invites us to share, for the abundance of the wedding banquet is all around us. Rejoice, God says. Be gentle. The Lord is near. Don’t worry. Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, whatever is excellent, whatever is praiseworthy: think on THESE things. In times like this, this may pass all understanding, but this truly is the peace of God.

God's Economy

Proper 22-A Oct. 5, 2008 St. Paul’s
Exodus 20:1-4,7-9,12-20 Philippians 3:4-14 Psalm 19 Matthew 21:33-46

What if the Federal Reserve, or the U.S. Treasury, or the House Banking Committee, ran by God’s rules? God cares a lot about the economy, if the Gospels are any measure of God’s interests and activities. So think about it: in this perplexing and violent parable – sometimes titled “the wicked husbandman” – Jesus is making the case that God cares about what we do with what we have been given. “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”
What if God said that to the Federal Reserve? To the U.S. Treasury? To the lenders of sub-prime mortgages? To derivatives traders and hedge fund managers – who ever they are and whatever they do?

“God’s economy” means the way God organizes God’s household, and so what are the rules for living in God’s household? This text reminds us that the penalty is pretty stiff for breaking them – “a miserable death” – so let’s look a little closer at what we have here. If God’s household is this vineyard, then one of the crisis points in the year is the time of harvest. The crop has ripened at once, and there is not a moment to lose to get in all in. Such a crisis is fraught with opportunity and peril. “The harvest is plentiful,” Matthew has Jesus say elsewhere, “but the laborers are few.”

The vineyard, in Biblical imagery, represents sacred land, God’s land, the symbolic place where the people live in obedience to God, to the Torah, the comprehensive way of life that marks what it is to be a Jew. The Torah, or the Law, begins with those 10 Commandments God gave to Moses, and you could say that for a faithful Jew – a faithful Jew like Jesus, or his disciple, Matthew – obedience to the Law is like living always in God’s sacred vineyard. Outside the vineyard, beyond the hedge, is the land of the unfaithful, the wicked, the disobedient, the alien.

But as we read this story, God is not pleased with those who were given the vineyard, who were given the great gift of this relationship with God, this great abundance of the goodness of life. They have squandered all these opportunities. The grapes are sour, wild, useless; all will be laid to waste, the laborers sent “to a miserable death.” All that privilege, all that power, all those riches – all will be taken away from the original tenants and given to those who know the rules of God’s economy, to people who will produce “the fruits of the kingdom.”

Another word for the “kingdom” or “reign” of God is “commonwealth.” It came into English usage around the time of the reformation, the 16th century, and refers to the welfare, or wealth or weal, held in common by all the people. The Massachusetts Bay Colony was indeed that kind of “commonwealth.”

When we talk about the kingdom of God, or the reign of God, we know who is on top, who is King of kings, Lord of lords. But the more I think about it, the more I find the word “commonwealth” gets to the heart of what God has in mind for us. God has a created the world, which the people of God hold in common. We are all stewards of this common wealth. The vineyard is an especially rich and blessed part of this commonwealth, and God sends some stewards in just to care for it. But they have neglected their duty to the common good. They have squandered the resources, or kept the wealth to themselves, rather than producing the fruits to be shared for the general welfare of all the people.

When we think of this world as a “kingdom,” our lines of responsibility or accountability only go up, to God. Or take the more modern image of “corporation,” where the managers are accountable only to the shareholders and their bottom line. But by using the word “commonwealth,” those ties of accountability and responsibility reach out to all the community, as well as up to the one who has created this wonderful world we all share.

Maybe this is where “secular” economists have gotten into trouble. They were hoarding this wealth as “theirs alone,” rather than understanding that the wealth belongs to God, and that the uses to which we put this wealth should be God’s uses, for God’s people, for the restoration of the vineyard, for the repair of God’s broken world. I have a hymn from that “commonwealth” tradition in England, a hymn that I think should be the theme song of the people during this time of crisis: when we see people thrown out of their homes, the value of their retirement savings crashing, jobs disappearing, city and state governments not able to pay their bills:

God is the only landlord: a response to the mortgage crisis

4. God is the only Landlord
To whom our rents are due.
God made the earth for everyone
And not for just a few.
The four parts of creation --
Earth, water, air, and fire --
God made and ranked and stationed
For everyone's desire.

5. God made the earth for freedom
And God alone is Lord,
And we will win our birthright
By truth's eternal sword;
And all the powers of darkness
And all the hosts of pride
Shall pass and be forgotten
For God is by our side.

Life is NOT fair

Proper 20-A
Sept. 21, 2008
Exodus 16:2-15; Psalm 105; Philippians 1:21-20; Matthew 20:1-16

Some of us here are old enough to remember when Jimmy Carter was president. Among the many things that Carter said that no one seemed to like was this comment about a woman on public assistance complaining that she was not getting something due her: “Life is not fair,” Carter said. The press went ballistic. Here was this Baptist, famous for being a born-again Christian, and he says to a poor woman, “Life is not fair.”

The Israelites, wandering in the wilderness, were convinced that life was not fair. Oh, they longed for the fleshpots of Egypt – captivity was better, thought some, than this wandering, lost and hungry, in the desert. They were beginning to doubt that Moses could come through on the promise from God, that he would lead these people to the Promised Land. If we had it bad before, we have it worse now; life is not fair.

So what does God do with these grumblers, these whiners who say life is not fair? God gives them bread – not just a fair portion of bread, but more bread than they can eat. More bread than they deserve. Manna from heaven. Bread upon bread upon bread; life is not fair.
That’s what Jesus is saying in this parable of the workers in the vineyard. Well, maybe he’s saying, Life is partly fair. The workers who labored all day get their full wages. That’s fair. The workers who only put in an hour get a full day’s wages, too. That’s not fair. Life is not fair, but sometimes you get more than you should.

There are a couple ways to look at this parable. The workers in the vineyard live on the bottom rung of the social ladder. Their daily wage, scholars think, was just enough to feed and shelter their families for one day. Jesus is therefore not implying that the landowner is paying his workers extravagantly. He is, however, generous and merciful to all these poor workers, even those who have not put in a full day’s work. Even they will get enough to live on. In the kingdom of heaven, therefore, everyone will get enough. There are no distinctions based on how much you earn; everyone who hears the call to go to the vineyard gets what each deserves, which is, enough. “Acceptance of that invitation – not worthiness to receive it – is all that matters.”

Another way to look at this parable is to place it in what some would say is its original context. Many people – Jewish leaders, Pharisees – criticized Jesus for spending time and eating with disreputable sinners. You can read this parable as Jesus’ making a case for his behavior against the pious who condemned him. If God (the landowner) is merciful to the poor, then I am just doing what God would do. Are you envious because I – because God – is generous? You have enough to meet your needs; why should I not care about these poor?
Both interpretations, slightly different, take us to the same place. In the kingdom of heaven, a different economic system operates. There is always enough to go around. You can’t get ahead, not matter how hard you work or how skilled you are. Your degree or your skill or your work experience don’t matter; in the kingdom of heaven, life is not fair.

I find it hard to live by these far out kingdom of heaven rules. For several years now we have had a few little sayings, printed nicely, framed and posted around the house, in hopes of inspiring our children to more responsible behavior. “Boredom is a matter of choice, not circumstance.” And “Shirkers get paid what they are worth.” These moral messages did not sink in very deeply with my children, who continue to scatter candy wrappers around, not pick up their dirty dishes, slack off on their homework and expect me to fund their excursions to some place where they can have fun! It sounds like they think they’re already in the kingdom of heaven, and I don’t think they’ve earned it! Why, the next time they complain about being hungry, God might just drop down some manna from heaven, just when I was trying to teach them a lesson about duty and responsibility!

If the kingdom of heaven is not fair, it is just, at least as God defines justice. God’s justice is merciful, abundant, generous, with compassion especially for those who do not appear to deserve it. Those of us who have more than we need don’t always like to hear God’s version of who should get what and how much is “enough.”

On the other hand, perhaps the “work” that is needed in the vineyard of the Lord has nothing to do anyway with what we think is important. Perhaps we are not the good “do-bees” we think we are after all. Perhaps the work Jesus wants us to do mirrors his behavior – his compassion, his mercy, forgiveness. Perhaps those things we think are important just don’t matter to Jesus, and by those standards, we are the shirkers. We are those lazy workers who come in at the end of the day, the ones who really have not put in our time laboring in the fields of the Lord. If we look at it from that point of view, God is being very generous to us who have not done our part. God is not fair.

These parables of the kingdom turn the world upside down. They offer a counter-cultural standard to what our world says is important. Shirkers do get paid what they are worth, but in the kingdom, they are worth very much indeed.

WWJD????

Proper 19-A

September 14, 2008

Exodus 14:19-31; Ps. 114; Romans 14:1-12; Matthew 18:21-35

Do you remember the little slogan, “WWJD” or “What Would Jesus Do?” woven into friendship bracelets or embroidered on backpacks? Some people resonate with it, of course; perhaps they are VERY sure what Jesus would do in any situation and equally sure that they would do it, too. Others kind of cringe, recoiling from what they think smacks of fundamentalism and a simplistic reading of the Gospel.

Actually, I think it is a very good question, a proper and even an easy question to ask. It is, however, not such an easy question to answer, or to hear the answer Jesus might make.

Peter’s question to Jesus is a version of “WWJD.” Just how far should my forgiveness go when someone has really been bad to me? What would you do, Jesus?

As is the case with many of the parables in Matthew, Jesus tells a story to illustrate his position. The story comes from one world – the everyday world of economics, of right and wrong, of do’s and don’ts – but the meaning of the story lies in quite a different world, the world of unlimited, abundant, overflowing, embarrassing, foolish mercy and grace. The master is willing to forgive every last cent of debt owed him by the slave, but the slave does not learn this lesson well. This time, the master’s mercy turns to wrath. If Jesus is the master, we can then understand what Jesus would do when asked to forgive: he would forgive abundantly. It seems pretty clear that the one forgiven should also do as Jesus did: forgive the debts owed him. What does Jesus do then? I’m afraid it’s not a pretty picture.

Forgiveness is possible, easy, even, on the micro level. That’s what Peter was referring to, the church: how do we live in community with our sisters and brothers? Here, the ability to forgive is essential. But what about on the macro level? Do we dare take what we have learned “at home” and apply it to the “real world?”

Take a very current example: the foreclosure crisis. Lots of people got in over their heads in loans that they, in the long run, could not afford. Some people would say, these poor souls reached out for more than should have, they took out loans from shaky creditors, they bought more of a house than they should have, it’s too bad, but they will have to take the consequences. Others say, those mortgage holders were the victims of predatory lenders, who took advantage of the eagerness to own their own home, their unfamiliarity with how mortgage financing worked. No one should be thrown out of their home; the government should step in and help them keep their houses. What would Jesus do? If he were a banker? Or the Secretary of the Treasury? Forgive the debt? Force the one who made the mistake to pay?

Last week we talked about how Jesus the rabbi applied the concept of “binding” or “loosing” a commandment. We talked about how Jesus never advocated breaking a commandment – some, such as love of God and love of neighbor, would actually be strengthened – but the interpretation of others would be loosened. Forgiveness is more important than the amount of debt owed. The sabbath is made for man, not man for the sabbath. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

What would Jesus do? It’s a very good question. The answers, however, I think come from the commandments that emphasize relationships over hard and fast rules. The answers are best formulated in a community, in the push and pull of friendships and commitments, where what we think is the “right” answer is challenged by someone else’s opposite version of the “right” answer. What would Jesus do about the foreclosure crisis? What would Jesus do about health care? What would Jesus do about immigration reform? I might think I have the answer, but I just might learn more about what Jesus would do from the answer you have, or from the opinion you have formed from reading the gospel, or from the facts you bring to the table from your experience or point of view.

That’s life in community. We don’t check out brains at the doors of this church, because we realize the gospel presents us with some real challenges for our lives. In order to rise to those challenges, we have to be a community where all of us can ask hard questions and hear some answers, in the context of our conversations, our relationships, our listening to not only what Jesus would do but what Jesus would have us do.

Binding and Loosing, Part 2

Proper 18A
Sept. 7, 2008
Exodus 12:10-14;Psalm 149; Romans 13:8-14; Matthew 18:15-20

Even the pastor of Sarah Palin’s church in Wasilla, Alaska, confesses to having a diverse congregation. The Bible is the Word of God, Pastor Kroon was reported saying in a newspaper article about the Wasilla Baptist Church[i]. “The task of believers is to ponder and analyze the book for meaning – including scrutiny, he said, for errors and mistranslations over the centuries that may have obscured the original intent.”

Oh, the Wasilla Baptist Church is definitely a socially and theologically conservative congregation, but even there, in that small town that a week ago none of us had heard of but that today is the bellwether for the “real America,” even there at the Wasilla Baptist Church, even that much latitude to discover what the words of the Bible really mean to us today, is too tight a fit for some people. People in Wasilla, like people everywhere, are searching for meaning, and wondering how their story fits with God’s story, or Jesus’ story, but many people can go only so far.

Mr. Kroon said the Alaskan spirit of go-it-alone individuality gives the church a mix of joiners and resolute nonjoiners. The church offers full-emersion water baptism, which some people want and others do not.

“I have people who’ve been here since I got here [30 years ago], and they still say don’t put me on the membership roll,” he said. “There’s definitely a cultural element.”

Just what does the Bible mean to us today, and just how much of it do we have to take as, you should pardon the expression, “Gospel truth?”

Now the Gospel of Matthew, our first Gospel in the New Testament, is in many ways the most Jewish of the Gospels. Reading it from cover to cover, as it were, we can discern that Matthew sees the community around Jesus as a community of disciples around a rabbi – a substantially different rabbi, for Jesus truly is the manifestation of God on earth – Emmanuel – God with us – but a rabbi nonetheless. A teacher who stands in the tradition of generations of teachers, and who is well versed in how scripture has been read for generations. A teacher who, like all the other rabbis, knows how to make a good argument.

For thousands of years, people have been wrestling with what the Bible means for them in their lives. The people at the Wasilla Baptist Church have no corner on that. And like the pastor at the Wasilla Baptist Church, people have been struggling to figure out what the words in the Bible originally meant, and what has been added on over time, and how to apply what the words in the Bible originally meant to today, where we live, light years away from the people who originally heard those words.

Our Gospel lesson today is a little déjà vu from our lesson of two weeks ago. Both passages have a lot in common. In both passages we find the only time “the church” is mentioned in Gospels. In both passages, we hear Jesus talking about “binding” and “loosing.” So these passages are important. They say something about the character of Christian community, something about how Jesus wants his disciples to live.

Today, Jesus is talking about how to resolve conflicts. He lays out some rules, which some people and some churches take quite literally. If church members disagree in some churches, this is what they have to do, to the point of expelling the one who resists this “Christian” method of conflict resolution. But then Jesus says,

Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on early will be loosed in heaven. If two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

Binding and loosing. For generations rabbis had debated about the law. All of the law is sacred, every jot and tittle, which means every comma and squiggle of punctuation. But in some circumstances, the strict application of the law can be loosened a bit, and Jesus was famous for that. Take, for example, the commandment to love your neighbor. Remember Jesus’ summary of the law: “to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and to love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” When the question arose about, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus bound that law, strengthened it, tied it, to a universal understanding of neighbor that included even enemies. “‘You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” Similarly, starting from those two commandments – love of God and love of neighbor as self – Jesus, the rabbi, would loose the law, such as the law prohibiting work on the Sabbath. If people are hungry and it is the Sabbath and they have no food, or if someone is in need of healing, then they may loose the law and do those works. That does not break the law, for it is still forbidden to work on the Sabbath – but the demands of the circumstances – the time, the place, the burning need of the neighbor – demand that the observance of the law be stretched on this occasion.[ii]

And so how does Jesus want us to interpret the Word of God? Do we do everything he says? Do we have to work out our conflicts just like this? St. Paul lays out some of the original 10 Commandments given to Moses as part of Exodus story: “You shall not commit adultery. You shall not commit murder. You shall not steal. You shall not covet.” But then Paul, himself a rabbi, loosens those commandments, even as he binds the one that is more important: “’Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.”

We may not agree with what the Bible means to, say, the people of the Wasilla Baptist Church. Even within this congregation we may find that the words of the Bible mean different things to different people. If the wisdom of generations of rabbis is any clue, these differences of opinion are nothing new. We are able to disagree – even when two or three of us are gathered together – because we are embraced in unity and in love by the one who has gathered us together, the one who is Emmanuel, God-with-us, the One who insists that we follow his commandment of love.

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[i] “In Palin’s Worship and Politics, a Desire to Follow God’s Will” by Kirk Johnson and Kim Severson (The New York Times, September 6, 2008, p. 1,A12)

[ii] Mark Allan Powell, “Binding and loosing: a paradigm for ethical discernment from the Gospel of Matthew;” Currents in Theology and Mission, 2003