They Were Afraid of the Crowd -Pentecost 16A

The religious authorities, the chief priests and the elders come to Jesus and ask: By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?

Of whom do we – as a mainline church, as Bishops, Synod Council, pastors, church councils, communities of faith -  ask this question?

Is it a question we ask others when they articulate or act out Christian practice in a way different than our own? Perhaps to the religious who burn Korans, or those who promote gender inequality, restrict participation of only some, or those who embrace a prosperity Gospel.

 Is it a question we ask of new immigrant populations growing in Canada – who said you can do that, or believe that, or build your temple or mosque? By whose authority do you speak your mother tongue and not an official Canadian language?

Do we ask it of our politicians? Questioning Bills and decisions – for instance on issues of the environment, the immigration of refugees, honouring treaties with First Nation’s People, providing basic necessities whether that is money for disability pensions or potable water in North? Do we ask the question when federal funding is cut to CIDA, KAIROS, or prison chaplaincy?

Do we ask, “by who’s authority,” to schools allowing Winter concerts as long as there are no Christmas carols, to Universities who refuse students based on sexual orientation, or to institutions imposing dress codes for out of school activities?

The asking of the question is not so much about an answer, as it is posed to have the one asked to reflect on what they are doing or not doing. Often with the hope that the question will have the other come to a realization that they are outside of their authority and would then desist in their current operating procedure.

Jesus deflects the question by asking a similar one of authority of the religious leaders themselves. Jesus asks them a question that was simple in the fact that it could easily be answered with one word; but oh so complicated in the context of the situation.  “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The religious authorities should have the authority to answer this question.  Yet the ownership and conveyor of authority in any instance is fickle.

In this instance religious authority chooses their action and response when speaking to an authority they deem might just be from God, and when confronted with the authority of a crowd who have the potential to rebel based on their response and in so doing incite the ruling authority of the Romans, to revert to a stand based on fear.  THEY WERE AFRAID OF THE CROWD – so the answer given to Jesus was,  “we do not know.”

Are we afraid of the crowd? What people will say or think about us? What the powers that be might do to us or take away?

Say too much and your non-profit might be audited, or your charity number be taken away so you cannot issue tax receipts. What ministry doesn’t happen because we are afraid of getting sued – perhaps our services are too loud.

This is Back to Church Sunday, where the lead up weeks encouraged and reminded members to invite friends, family, co-workers, and neighbours to church. Did you invite someone? Do you invite - - - or are you afraid of the crowd so to speak?

Feltzen South’s anniversary Sunday, Resurrection’s 100^th next year, in our history we were the crowd – the people who went out to be baptized by John, those outside the main church of the day. We were a group of immigrant people starting over, surviving and growing, keeping culture, language, hymns, ethnic tradition, and food through potluck. In the beginning we were the other, a place to go that was not British or French.  We tried to avoid being asked “by whose authority do you do these things?”

But times change, some of us still hide out as if we are the other when really we are a full part of the mainline church. We are a fixed institution. How is it that we relate to the question, “by whose authority?”

As a church – a National church – as a member of the Lutheran World Federation – a federation that includes 69 million Lutherans around the world. The church is daring to ask the question...

By whose authority...

There comes a point in the life of God’s people when their religious institutions die because they will not confront the question of authority. And far too often are afraid of the crowd so will not take a stand.

By whose authority do we do what we do?... God’s, the church hierarchy, the church rules and operating procedures, church councils, our own, or does our authority come from baptism within a community, where we are named a beloved child of God, empowered by the Holy Spirit, fed and nourished, and participants in a liturgy of the people for the healing of the world.

The ELCIC has chosen to confront authority that acts outside and in opposition to society’s understanding of the kindom of God. Letters are written to parliament hill; demonstrations and protests are attended; relationships are forged with indigenous peoples; peoples and refugees from around the world are welcomed; resources are sent to the Evangelical Lutheran church of Jordan and the Holy Land; statements are made on social, moral, and ethical issues; support is given to displaced people in places like Kakuma and Za’atari; prayers are offered for countries ravished by Ebola, decimated by war, or devastated by natural disaster.

There is a sense in this church in which we belong, that hiding out is not the intended plan for the next 10 yrs. Over the past decade and a half there has been a particular focus on being a church that is in mission for others – decisions made are made looking through this lens.  The plan is to live into and out of the promises of baptism/confirmation – to embrace the prayers said on each of us in that moment; to live by the grace freely given in the Holy Supper.  We are about giving ourselves away as bread for the hungry.  As we live into our mission statement, it has meant that the church has chosen to take a stand, to be a voice; to not be afraid of the crowd, or whichever crowd holds authority.  We plan to play an active role in bringing the Kindom by transforming the world around us to live by the principles offered in the parables of the vineyard presented the past couple of weeks – where the first end up last and the last first, where a land owner is lavishly generous and it matters not on merit or what people think is fair.

This week I have a day in ON with a group of pastors who for the past 3 years have been engaged in leadership development. The event is at Crief Hills – a rustic Presbyterian retreat centre. When I was a little girl my family tented at this facility and participated in a weekend event.  I was 5 and was so pleased that one afternoon the older kids invited me to play hide and seek.  To make a long story short, I went through a wooden gate, walked through the tall field grass, went over a rise and I was lost.  Disoriented.  Scared. I found a fence and followed it; I crawled under the fence when there was a space to do so and followed the road – more scared - when a police car came by I thought I was rescued.  Terror set in when he passed me by.  I have never been that scared.  I turned around to follow where the police car went, crying, alone, lost.  As I went over the rise in the road there was the entrance to the camp.  I felt like I had been lost forever, no one really seemed to notice, until they saw the distress I was in.

What I realized with the reading for today and the memory of Crief Hills, when they collided; what really scares me is not the changing face of the church, people judging me because I go to church and believe in God; I’m not afraid of losing taxable donation credits, being embarrassed because someone might say “no” when I invite them to church; it is not fear of what might happen if the church says too much on issues of importance, or pushes the authorities of the day to adverse consequences; I’m not afraid of persecution or death because of the stand I or the church takes to bring God’s kingdom to earth --- what scares me the most is being lost alone.

Back to Church Sunday and Church anniversaries are a reminder that we are not alone, we are community of people centred around the Christ event, empowered as a community through sacrament – God’s grace – freely given so that we might be bread for the hungry, be a different kind of authority that is not embarrassed to seek to build the kingdom of God; a community that invites all to come along and be part of the journey, where there is bread in abundance and more to share.

This week you are encouraged to reflect on the phrase, “by whose authority?” Apply the question to your understandings and your actions.  Consider the question in relation to the church – to Resurrection (to St.John’s by the sea). What do we do and by whose authority to we do it?   Ponder - of whom, are we as a community of faith, to ask this question.

Amen.

To Let Go or Not To Let Go - Romans 14

To let go or not to let go – that is the question

Whether ‘tis nobler to judge or forgive;

To bite one’s tongue, take a stand; to be pointedly right, to respectfully hold a plethora of truth...

                 

Visiting Germany, years ago, I was shocked into a new understanding of what reformation within the church really meant. Walking into St.Lorenz Kirche, a Lutheran Church in Nuremburg, I was not prepared for the sanctuary decor.  Above the altar hangs a larger than life artistic rosary wreath. Created in metal, ten large roses, with miniatures in between, form a round frame around the golden image of St. Anne holding the Virgin Mary as a child.  Both are crowned and sit enthroned in heaven.  Not the typical art found in a reformed church.

In the 1500’s all the churches in Germany were Roman Catholic, as was the rest of the Holy Roman Empire. As Princes supported the Reformers and adhered to new understandings of God, the Church, faith, scripture, and so on, churches within their jurisdictions simply became the Evangelical Church – now called Lutheran.  The buildings didn’t change right away or at all, the service sounded pretty close to the same, some started to use vernacular language and hymns.  Luther wrote catechisms for the people to teach their children and a larger  catechism to teach Roman priests new understandings as they were now no longer Roman priests but over night became Evangelical pastors.  Imagine the turmoil and chaos; the debates; what was right and what was wrong... what to let go, or not to let go – that was the question.

Go back a century and a bit more and you have Paul in Rome facing a group of faithful people dedicated to God and living according to God’s will ... but, it was not one unified group.  It was observant Jews confronted with a group of Jews claiming the Messiah had come.  It was non-Jews, God-fearers, who converted to Judaism to enter into a life of following Christ.  It was gentiles following Christ without picking up the entirety of Jewish law.  It was a debate of what was right and what was wrong; it was a constant crisis and conversation of what to let go, or not to let go – that was the question.

Move forward to the past couple of weeks. I journeyed to my mom’s house for my dad’s funeral and to help go through dad’s things.  My brother also traveled to Elliot Lake.  Now my brother and I have not lived under one roof for a very long time; and when we did I was a little older, a little taller, and a whole lot more bossy.  I like to think that I usually got my way.  As adults the dynamic changed.  We are both fairly opinionated people, with definitely different orders of operations, lifestyles, and fundamental ethos.  Our time together was one of living with the action of:  to let go, or not to let go; to bite one’s tongue, or take a stand; to be pointedly right; or respectfully hold a plethora of truth.

Despite what we judged some of the other’s decisions to be, there was no fighting and no hard feelings.  The reason - outside of loving each other- was that we were bound together with a common purpose behind our decisions and thoughts and actions.  Our common bond, the fundamental principle was that we were there to help/support/encourage our mom.  In the end nothing else mattered.

James Dunn, an academic who has spent his life working with Paul and particularly the book of Romans, comments that in the early church there was only one fundamental principle, and that the principle had the power to hold the community in Rome and around the world in unity.  The early Christian fundamental operating principle was Christ and the Christ event (life, death, and life). 

The problems experienced in the growing community, as outlined by Paul, were created by adding more fundamental principles to the only principle required.  It was the adding of fundamentals that led to conservative factions, fractions, and frictions.  So today’s reading goes on about those judged to be weak, those judged for what they eat or don’t eat... where Paul’s argument is going is that in Christ and the Christ event alone, there is unity.

Dunn goes on to argue that by holding to the one fundamental principle of Christ, it allows for a vast diversity within the community of faithful – and this leads to a clearer and fuller expression of God because God cannot be expressed in God’s entirety by any one group of people.  Paul’s argument in the beginning of chapter 14 of Romans, challenges the traditionalists by suggesting that their definition of Christianity is too small; the last half of the chapter points the same finger at the liberal contingent in the community. Paul’s overarching concern is that the church should be able to sustain a diversity of opinion and lifestyle and that this is an integral part of common life.

In Paul’s experience at Rome, the community struggled in its ability: To let go or not to let go –

Whether ‘tis nobler to judge or forgive; to bite one’s tongue, take a stand; to be pointedly right, or respectfully hold a plethora of truth.  The case was the same during the Reformation and counter-reformations to follow.  The case is the same in the church today and in our personal everyday lives. God’s people in all walks and dimensions of our lives should be able to sustain a diversity of opinion and lifestyle for this is an integral part of common life.

I’ve had some time to begin reflecting on my relationship with my dad.  It was a really good relationship.  As I grew up though, I was glad that I was pastoring churches farther than a few hours drive away.  It meant that I felt a freedom to say and be an expression of faith different from that of my father.  We held diverse opinions on many subjects particularly those that I consider fall into the realms of social ethics and Post-Modern philosophy, rather than into the domain of categorizing sin and corruption of the Word.  What it meant inside our relationship as father and daughter was a certain amount of respect.  I knew what my dad thought, and I suspect that he had an idea of my thought; we both knew that we held to one underlying principle Christ and the Christ event.  So I choose for the goodness of relationship –and I am sure he did as well -  to let go, to bite-my-tongue, to live with a plethora of truth.  Arguing would not have changed either of our thoughts or beliefs; and could have destroyed our relationship.

The examples I’ve shared can be transposed on the church today.

Many of us have either been a part of or heard stories of churches that implode or explode  --- imploding by adding extra fundamental principles; exploding by letting go and not letting go or people pointedly “being right.” The Romans text speaks to faithful communities throughout time to remind us and refocus our core principal. Paul writes of ways for the community to get back in shape – meaning in relationship with each other.

I like what Gaugler a New Testament scholar says reflecting on Paul’s argument in Romans, he says “correct faith immediately becomes wrong when it violates love.”  Can that not hold true to all our words and actions in any relationship – whether at church, work, or with family?

James Dunn also holds to a similar thought for the church of all times and in all places commenting that: In order for me be to be right, it does not necessitate that you are wrong.  General respect is being willing to stand up for the others and even uphold their belief (not necessarily do it or believe it), but hold that their view is valid and as acceptable to God as my own. 

Finally this morning I wonder if Paul’s idea of holding to one fundamental principle – Christ – with all else being a greater expression of God, if this thought relates to Jesus’ understanding of forgiveness.  Could our mutual acceptance (rather than judgement) of the others’ belief and practice be a form of forgiveness?

Ancient ideology held that the number seven was one of fullness and perfection – for it is a combination of the number three, representing divinity; and the number 4 recalling the corners of the earth (remember that the earth was considered flat).  For Jesus to combine seven and seven he illustrates a grand scheme of multiplying the number of total perfection; a grand scheme of the vast realm and grace of God.

For the community of Paul’s day, the people living in the time of the Reformation, for my relationship with my brother, my father, and for the church today --- unity is found in being bound by one principle --- and continually struggling for total perfection in relationship; a continued struggle from Jesus’ time through to today and into tomorrow.

To let go or not to let go – that is the question.  Take comfort that neither is to be judged right or wrong, rather, live into perfection, into forgiveness; into the main event -Christ; for whether you choose to let go or not let go, if done in honour of the Lord and in giving thanks to God, it is acceptable.

Eugene Petersen sums up this section of Romans this way:

What’s important in all this is that if you keep a holy day, keep it for God’s sake; if you eat meat, eat it to the glory of God and thank God for prime rib; if you’re a vegetarian, eat vegetables to the glory of God and thank God for broccoli.  None of us are permitted to insist on our own way in these matters.  It’s God we are answerable to --- all the way from life to death and everything in between --- not each other.  That’s why Jesus lived and died and then lived again: so that he could be our Master across the entire range of life and death, and free us from the petty tyrannies of each other.   ...so tend to your knitting. You’ve got your hands full just taking care of your own life before God.+