Reformation Freedom

Texts: Romans 3:19–28 and John 8:31–36
Preacher: Pastor Seitz

Today we celebrate the Reformation and we remember our denomination’s name-sake, Martin Luther.

The story of Luther is well known among many of us but just to highlight a couple of his accomplishments lets start with the verse attributed with starting the Reformation. It is the last verse from the Second lesson, Romans 3:28 “For we hold that a man is justified by faith apart from works of the law.”

This verse was a complete contradiction of the time. The Catholic church was teaching that salvation (or justification) was only attainable through works. You had to do what the church told you in order to be saved. One reason for this was that the Bible was only available in Latin and the church services we held in Latin. And most people did not know Latin so they relied on what the church leaders told them was necessary for salvation.

One of the first things Luther did as a result of discovering this verse that led to his theological revelation was to decide that it was not enough for him to be able to read the promises laid out for us in scripture. But that everyone should be able to read it for themselves so he translated the Bible from Latin to common German.

Well this is where the theological revelation moved into a social revolution. In Luther’s efforts to reform the Catholic church – he taught that any Christian is as close to God as any priest. And that almost every Christian was closer to God than the Pope whom Luther often referred to as the Devil.

Through the Word of God as revealed through scripture, every Christian could be and should be pursuing their own faith journey with Jesus. That everyone should be a leader in church as followers of Christ.

Now the Gospel text for today, Jesus says, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

And the Jews who were listening to him responded to Jesus saying, “We are descendants of Abraham, and have never been in bondage to anyone, how is it that you say, “you will be made free?””

I am only a pastor and not a true Biblical Scholar, but it seems to me that the Jews who respond to Jesus are missing something. What is wrong with this statement? Anyone? Uh, now again just speaking as a common pastor, isn’t there something in the Bible about Moses, the Pharoh, the Egyptians, and an Exodus? Jesus doesn’t like to argue but it seems like he could have just mentioned this in his response.

Now the reason we have this Gospel text attached to our celebration of the Reformation is that Luther showed us freedom in Christ in ways we were not aware of before. Through having scripture in our own language and sermons and services in our own language – we know that, as Luther taught and we still teach today, through Jesus we are free from Sin, Death, and the Devil. We are free to live without guilt, without fear, and without mortal grief. We know through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, that our sins are forgiven, that death has no hold on us, and that the Devil is powerless against us as those who follow Jesus.

We are FREE! Free to live guilt free stress free fear free lives! Hallelujah!

If somebody said to us, you are not free - you are all slaves. Like those responding to Jesus, we could say, we are Americans and the patriots of our country died so that we could have freedom. Slavery was abolished – we have freedom of religion and democracy. We could say that we are the most free people in the world! Not only do we have secular and religious freedom but as followers of Jesus we have freedom from Sin, Death, and the Devil. We could not be more free!

But how many of us feel free?

Speaking as a thirtysomething-year-old: as a representative of my generation and those coming up behind us: we work more hours than any generation before us, have more families where both parents are working full time, we have less vacation, we have more student loans, more credit card debt, less comprehensive health insurance, less job security, higher morgages and more stress than any generation before us. And lets not forget a whole list of other things like the recession, politics, corporate corruption, and war.

Now I hate to mention this in my sermon but I have to because today is Reformation Sunday.

Now speaking as a pastor, I can tell you, in reality – even for someone who dedicates their life and career to walking with Jesus; there are really only two times when I truly feel free.

One is whenever I get to relax with my beautiful wife and our son and none of us is watching the clock because soon one of us has to go. So, for at least a little while many evenings and some days I feel free. Because when I am with my family, and we are relaxing together, I am not worried about income or debt, not car nor house, or any other thing or situation that I am tied to that causes me stress.

The other time I feel free, and this is the Gospel truth, is right here and now. Whenever I get to spend time with my family of Faith and we get to worship and sing and pray together.

And our children are running around together and we stand young and old from all our different backgrounds and journies – and together we gather around the table that Jesus has set for us and we stand and kneel side by side under the cross of Christ together – in this 100 year old building together – whenever I get a chance to be here and share in this community I am not worried about income or debt, not car not house, or any other thing or situation that I am tied to that causes me stress.

In my family at home and at Faith when we come together I feel supported and I remember why I work hard and manage all the stressors in my life. When we come together I feel free and that I am a child of God who is blessed and blessed again. And when we come together we each remember who we are and that we are not alone in our struggles or our stresses.

For it is only when we are alone in our struggles and our stresses that we cannot feel our true freedom. From the very beginning we were made to be in community. When God made the first human, and he had the world and all the animals, he was lonely. So God made a companion for Adam, because as God put it, it is not good for him to be alone.

Now today in the Gospel, Jesus says, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

Well thanks to Luther, we have been invited to continue in God’s word for 500 years. And Jesus tells us that those who continue in his Word are not just his followers, but truly his disciples.

Now sometimes we see the disciples in scripture as an insular little band of 12 followers. But I commend to you today that they were more than just followers. Jesus said to each one, follow me, and they followed. But eventually he says, now go and do likewise.

Feed my sheep, be laborers in the field of the Lord, heal the sick, comfort those who mourn, preach the good news, bring good news to the poor and set the captives free!

Jesus teaches us to be servants and more than servants! He teaches us, as his true disciples, to be servant leaders. Eventually the disciples went out and did as Jesus taught them – the very fact the church exists today is evidence of that fact. At some point the disciples did more than answer the call: follow me. They extended the call to those around them and said to others: follow me.

Now on Reformation Sunday celebrate that Luther put the power in our hands so that we could be like priests ourselves, be leaders ourselves, and not wait for other leaders in the church to tell us what to do. And Jesus says “if you continue in my word you are truly my disciples, and the truth will make you free.” And God designed us to be in community so that we are supported in our lives and can feel our freedom.

We also remember on Reformation Sunday that the reformation is not over – not for us, not for the church, and not for this congregation. The next step in our own reformation is to move forward as disciples: as servant leaders and go to those in need – not waiting for others but embracing our Lutheran heritage and our Lord’s teaching and living as servant leaders ourselves. By moving forward and helping those in need and saying to those around us – be they our family at home or our family here or people just standing around and saying to them, Follow Me. We don’t have to go out by ourselves – we should go out as a community to those who feel alone. We are called to serve all those around us who may never feel their freedom because they feel alone in their struggles and stresses.

There are people all around us who need our help. We don’t have to wait for someone else to find a service opportunity and invite us - they may be waiting for us to invite them. Who among us would say no if any one of us said I am going to help someone right now – follow me!

I will close with something useful I heard at the Bishop’s Convocation this week. The keynote speaker said, “It is easier to act our way into a new way of thinking than it is to think our way into a new way of acting.”

So let us go forth as servants of Christ, as Lutherans, and as disciples who are servant leaders – acting in ways that not only help us to feel our own freedom but setting others free by showing them they are not alone in their struggles and that we are all in one community as children of God. Because Jesus says, “So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” So let us be free indeed!

Money and Abundance

Text: Mark 10:17-31

A man approaches Jesus and tells him in so many words that he would like to live a good and Godly life. A noble goal. Since the man was already righteous, meaning he was following the rules of his faith, he no doubt expected a little mild coaching, or a tip of the day. Instead, Jesus tells the man he has to sell all he owns and give the proceeds to the poor. It is hard to follow Jesus. The man, who comes to Jesus eager and confident, leaves distressed, saddened, and uncertain. The story does not tell us what he does. Only that he leaves, not so much shocked as we heard today, but disheartened, downhearted. Having heard Jesus, whether he kept all he had or sold it all, his choices were discouraging.

Money is powerful. It is not even a real thing, but it demands our attention even so. It is a convention based on trust among people that lets us do things in life that are essential or frivolous. Because it is without meaning itself, it can stand for all that we need, hope for, are afraid of. The fear of being without money is closely tied to the fear of death. No food, no shelter, no health care. Hardly anyone thinks that money is unnecessary. Yet “sell all you have and give to the poor,” Jesus said to the man.

Money seems inescapable. A newsletter sent this past week to leaders of Lutheran churches claimed that its topic was stewardship. Stewardship means taking care of things. It does not necessarily have to do with money. But the newsletter was all about money and how to get it and how to keep it. The lead article was titled “practical help in a fluid economy.” It had little to do with Jesus. It could have appeared in USA Today.

When Jesus talks to the man, Jesus looks him in the eye, it says, face to face. And Jesus loved him. Jesus knows, I’m sure, that what he is about to say will be hard words to hear. He knows that the things we hold onto so tightly hold us in turn. That the thing we grasp so tightly grasp us even harder. Anything that we desire to keep, keeps us. All the things we own, our favorite things, demand attention, and love, and loyalty, and protection from us. How much of our lives are devoted to caring for what we own?

We celebrate the 100th anniversary of this building next week. It has been a place that has protected and nurtured people praising God and being fed by God. It is place whose purpose is to gather people who care for and celebrate each other and others in the community. It is place, as our motto says, of spirit, joy, reverence, and service. At the same time, it is a burden. One that we gladly bear, but one nonetheless. It demands time, money, and energetic thought. It is our responsibility, which requires tending.

The man cannot give up his possessions without much grieving, for he loves them so. They have given him much that is good and fine and safe.

But it is not just what we own that owns us. We are connected to many things by little strings of responsibility and affection and common purpose. The man is disheartened when he hears what Jesus says. But the disciples are more than perplexed, as it says. They are astonished and terrified. For when Peter explains that he and the others have given up everything for Jesus, Jesus speaks to them about leaving their “house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields.” That is, everything that has any hold on them. Not only on their stomachs, but on their hearts. Which means not just things and loves and responsibilities, but also plans and schemes and dreams.

What Jesus promises is freedom. He offers a light-traveling nomadic life that has a spiritual clarity. A kind of life in which a person is transparent, the same inside oneself as outside. Both unencumbered and therefore undisguised. Without guile, as Jesus once said of Nathanael. Without any need to dissemble or to worry about what face is forward. And with this freedom we are able to hear God more clearly and we are able to act for God’s world nimbly and with more courage.

I used to think, and preached, that this passage told us what we should do. That Jesus was telling us what to do. After all, the man says to Jesus, “what must I do?” If we wanted Christian freedom then we had to let things go. And that was that. Just let go of all that you hold dear, and everything will work out fine. So, go ahead. Go on. Let me know how things work out. As if it were easy. As if it were possible.

But now I see in the eyes of Jesus nothing but compassion. As Jesus looks, eye to eye, loving the man, Jesus knows what is happening inside this person. It is no doubt true that all that we grasp onto diminishes us. And that our tight grip harms the world. Jesus’ analysis of the problem is correct. But we can hardly do otherwise. We hold onto what we have for dear life.

The man goes away gloomy. What Jesus asks for is impossible. He says so himself. Mortals cannot do it. So where does that leave those—the man, us—who wish to be disciples of Jesus? Is it OK if we hedge our bets? Do things work out if we cling to our possessions, or is it all or nothing, a binary theology? Can we keep a little? How much is too much? Or is it like exercise: any little thing we can let go of helps? Can the man be a disciple of Jesus—follow me, Jesus says—if he does not do exactly what Jesus tells him to?

With God, all things are possible, Jesus tells his disciples. Do we believe that to be so? Do we believe what Jesus says here? Not believe in Jesus, but believe him. Is God trustworthy? If we give up all we possess—and those things that therefore possess us—will God take care of us? Do we trust God to do that?

Trust is not something that just arrives, like a package in the mail. It is a result of many encounters and experiences. Many tentative proposals, most with favorable responses. Many little experiments. Even for people who are vouched for by another (your best friend tells you: “she’s a great person”), trust is built gradually. Even when you fall head over heels in love with someone, trust comes over time. So it seems it is with us and God. Even if God is vouched for by scripture and teachings and by the testimony of other’s experiences. Even if you fall in love with God. Trust takes take and trials.

One reason we follow Jesus is because the promise he makes of a good and abundant life strikes us as real. And his analysis of the power of money and other possessions, material or otherwise, to interfere with that life strikes us as correct. We know he is right about this.

This does not mean to go hungry or become destitute. (Give to the poor, Jesus says; it is not good to be poor.) Or to sever ties with each other, or to deny our interdependency, or to spurn the love of others, or hesitate to ask for help. But it does mean we do not rely on our stuff for healing, protection, and guidance, or for the good life.

The story of the man ends in uncertainty, as do ours. We do not know how he interpreted the words of Jesus, how he acted, what decisions he made. Do we want to spend the hours of our short lives tending our possession and under their power?

Jesus looks into our lives—and to the heart of the world—with compassion and love. There is a better way.

Once Upon a Time Things Were Bigger

Text: Psalm 8

Once upon a time we were bigger. A lot bigger.

In the time of Moses, in the time of Jesus, even up to the time of Martin Luther, we were bigger. Human beings could walk from one end of the universe to the other. One end being the west coasts of Africa and Britain, the other end being the east coasts of Asia. Humans could cross the universe on foot in less than a year. And did. Luke tells us in the book of Acts that people came to Palestine to hear about Jesus from every place under heaven

Once upon a time we were younger. A lot younger.

In the time of Moses, Jesus, and Luther, we could count back through the generations of humankind to the very beginning of the universe. Your grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather’s … and so forth … was Adam. Lots of generations, but numerable. Possible. Traceable. They are listed in the Bible—if you allow for a little glitch here and a little nip and tuck there— from Adam to Jesus. If you lay all these generations end to end, you get to about 6,000 years for the age of the universe, or about 300 grandparent’s grandparents. Not so many. We could celebrate its anniversary without feeling too foolish.

The world was old, but not that old. The heavens were far, but not that far. The cosmos was big, but not that big. It was all sort of human-sized. Something humans could feel comfortable with. Awe-inspiring, magnificent, but comprehensible. Roomy.

How big, in this universe, could God be? How far away could God be? Not too big, not too far. Big enough to serve you, small enough to know you. Small enough to wander about in the garden of Eden. Small enough to have conversations with Abraham and Moses. Small enough to make a deal, a covenant, with a wandering tribe of nomads and freed slaves. Big enough to fill every space; but space was little. Ageless enough to be of all time; but long ago was not so long ago.

What are mere mortals that you should be mindful of them, human beings that you should care for them? The psalm asks. We share our grandparents’ sense of wonder at this. We seem to be especially blessed by our creator. We are a little confused these days about what it means to have dominion (not domination) over the animals and things of the earth, but we cannot deny that we are the beneficiaries of what seems to be a benevolent and generous giver. Other creatures have given up their lives and their coats for us. We do speak and name things and by language gain control over things. Human beings have prospered so far, and there are many of us. The world has been good to us. Why is that? God of the heavens and the moon and the stars is mindful of us and cares for us, so the psalm says. Why is that? God was powerful, and God was caring. But there was not so much on God’s plate as there is now.

We know now that everything is bigger and older than we can imagine. We can talk about it, but we cannot imagine it. And in the scale of the universe, we are much closer to the smallest thing than the largest thing. And the whole history of human beings is not as long as a click in a symphony. If you were distracted for an instant, in the life and breadth of the universe, you would miss us. We can talk about that too, but we cannot imagine it.

What are mere mortals that you should be mindful of them, human beings that you should care for them? In the face of our tiny-ness, we can agree with the psalm that it is amazing and we can praise God that God should mind and care for us. But now that we know how much there is, it seems sometimes to us that the effort God makes to do so is also unimaginable. God knows all there is to know. It seems too much.

So, in response some people deny that God exists. And some declare that even if God does exist, God is not, cannot be, mindful of us. And some say they it doesn’t matter what they think because it will not affect how they live one way or the other.

Followers of Jesus say that God became human. Became human while remaining God. Immanuel, we say, God with us. Human-sized and short-lived. But I’m not sure that that helps with this particular quandary. Does God become other things in other places in the wide universe? Is there a Jesus-like God for the fish and for the proteins in a cell and for the galaxies. And if not, why do we alone get Jesus?

Abraham Joshua Heschel, a wonderful and faithful thinker, says that the start or the ground of our relationship with God begins with our sense of the ineffable. Indescribable and inexpressible. We stand in awe in the universe—a Psalm 8 sized one or a modern gigantic one—and we are amazed. We marvel at our own existence and the blessing we seem to have. We are filled with wonder and we are filled with thanksgiving. We agree with the pslam. What are mere mortals that we should be blessed? That we should have life at all?

In one sense, in this sense, the nature of God is not really our concern. The size of the universe and the God that creates, fills, and runs it is not germane. The psalm does not ask, What is God that God should be mindful of us? It asks, who are we? I spoke at funeral yesterday and started out saying that I wanted to talk about me. I didn’t mean to say this—it just kind of popped out—and it was a little embarrassing, as it was not about me, as we say. It was about Alma. But what I meant was that it was about my response to her. I couldn’t really say what was going on from her point of view in our relationship. Just my point of view. That she was gracious to me and kind and attentive and make me feel cared for. When we talk about God, we can talk only about ourselves. What are mere mortals that God should be mindful of us?

When the disciples turn away the little children, Jesus gets upset. Do not stop the children, he says. Let them come. To come to God as children does not mean we have to be uncritical and unquestioning or be especially lovable. Children are often critical, skeptical, and hard to take. But children are rightly the center of their own universe. They are grateful and demanding in one package. Everything for them is ineffable.

Of course we will try to understand how God is and works. But how we imagine God changes in the course of our lives as well as in the course of history in the world. We can get all tied up in knots if we try to base our faith on that understanding. What we know for certain is what the children knew when they approached Jesus. God invites us in. And we are blessed.