I Need a Light

1 Corinthians 2:1-16     2When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. ²For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. ³And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. ⁴My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, ⁵so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.

⁶Yet among the mature we do speak wisdom, though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to perish. ⁷But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. ⁸None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. ⁹But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him”— ¹⁰these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. ¹¹For what human being knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. ¹²Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. 

Matthew 5:13-20    ¹³“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. ¹⁴“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. ¹⁵No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.¹⁶In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

¹⁷“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. ¹⁸For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. ¹⁹Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. ²⁰For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

+++

“How do you know when you are being a good example?”  This was the question asked at the sermon roundtable this week.  As we enter the second week of our series, Keeping It Simple, we thought about what it is to lead a Christian life. 

Jesus tells his disciples, and I count myself as one, that we are salt of the earth and light to the world.  And to let our light shine before others so they may see our good works and give glory to God.  Clearly, it would seem, that being a light to the world involves showing the world through our actions – our good works – the good news. 

But I heard some uncharacteristic resistance to the notion of good works – uncharacteristic because I have found it more common for Presbyterians to embrace good works, even at the expense of God’s grace.  Many devout Presbyterians approach their deathbed worrying about whether they have personally contributed enough to the kingdom for God to feel satisfied with them.  Without asking it directly, they seem to want to ask, “Have I truly earned my salvation?”  The answer, of course, is no.  Because it is the wrong question.

We wrestle with these dual doctrines: our justification and our sanctification.  We are able to tie ourselves in knots over them, trying to figure out which comes first.  But why was there some resistance to the idea that Jesus expects us to not only believe in the kingdom, but to act for the kingdom? 

Part of the answer may lie in this: we know where this is going.  We have read ahead and heard Jesus wrap up this chapter with a concise, Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.  It’s quite intimidating. 

Does our performance anxiety cause us to resist the Bible’s encouragement to be light to the world?  Does our fear of falling short lead to our self-justifications for not trying to be better? For not trying to be a good example?

I have some thoughts about the idea of perfection, which I will share later.  But for now I will just say that the word hangs over us like a threatening shadow, coloring Jesus words. 

It might be a good time to turn back to Paul’s message to the Corinthians – a message of humility and grace.  I came to you in weakness and fear and trembling.  I came to you wanting to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified. 

Setting himself apart from the crowded field of apostles by boasting of his foolishness and weakness doesn’t seem like a plan for success.  But this kind of surrender, if you will, may be the best way to allow the power and wisdom of the Spirit of God to shine through. 

To be light to the world.

Remembering our Baptism

Psalm 29   Ascribe to the Lord, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.  Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name; worship the Lord in holy splendor.  The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters.  The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.  The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon.  He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox.  The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.  The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.  The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, “Glory!”  The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord sits enthroned as king forever.  May the Lord give strength to his people! May the Lord bless his people with peace!

Matthew 3:13-17        Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

+++

At the Sermon Roundtable this week we discussed the selected texts for this Sunday, which marks The Baptism of the Lord.  Some questions that seem to always come up in this context were raised:  Why was Jesus baptized?  Does it mean the same thing as our Christian baptism?  Was there a Jewish tradition of baptism predating this?  And, of course, did anyone else hear that voice from heaven?

The Psalm was selected for this Sunday because of the image of God’s power over the waters.  I like to put baptism in the perspective of the myriad water images in the scriptures.  Water is primordial chaos.  It is powerful and destructive.  But the Lord’s power over the water is awesome.  In God’s hands, water becomes salvific.

I was reminded in our session of the value in reading aloud.  As we read the psalm responsively, we all became acutely aware of the voice of the Lord in this psalm.  We wondered together about the significance of this, noting that in the ancient world a voice was the means by which people learned so much.  The voice was powerful.  Does a voice still carry as much power?

In our discussion of the gospel text, we considered those questions noted above, and we also considered our own baptisms.  As we shared the stories of our own baptisms, we realized that each one is unique.  Each one carries its own personal meaning in addition to the shared meaning we invest in it. 

One recalled being told by a priest, “I would not baptize your bastard son,” because their marriage had taken place outside the Catholic church. 

I recalled a line from the story Lila, by Marilynne Robinson, which we read recently in our book group.  Lila was abandoned as a child, and cared for by a homeless woman, whose real name Lila never knew.  As an adult, Lila became concerned about getting baptized.  She said to the Reverend Ames, “Nobody seen to it for me,” when she was small.  This failure of anyone to do this for her seemed to be a great concern. 

It made me wonder what baptism says about our care for one another.  Whether or not we “see to it” for our children, whether or not we extend this gift to others, what criteria we use to decide who gets it and who doesn’t.  Do these things say anything about how well we care for one another?  Or not?

It is most likely unfair to assume that there is a lack of care involved when baptism is denied.  Each case is unique, each family is unique.  But I will think about baptism and care this week, just the same.  What do you think?