September 13, 2015 - Lose Your Life for the Sake of the Gospel

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”

Well, here we are. One of these famous Bible passages that we’ve all heard so often, and yet one that we hide away in the back of the closet underneath the winter clothes because we don’t want to look at it. This is the passage that causes us to look down into our laps and pretend that our fingernails have all of a sudden become very interesting and hope that nobody notices us. Imagine sitting in a room with a bunch of people and someone from Revenue Canada comes in and asks, “Who wants to be the first to have their taxes audited?” or a nurse comes in and asks, “Who wants to be the first to get their flu shot?” Nobody puts their hand up. Jesus comes along and says, “Who wants to deny themselves and take up their cross and lose their life?” We all sort of close in on ourselves and hope that he doesn’t pick us.

And yet, this is what Jesus is asking. Or rather, not even asking. Telling. Jesus is telling us, flat out, that if we want to be Christians - and that is, after all, what we say we are - if we want to follow Christ, then we have to deny ourselves and lose our lives for Jesus’ sake and the sake of the Gospel. And there is no way to get out from under the seriousness of this command. There is no way to interpret this passage so that we can wiggle out from the extremes that it puts before us. I talked last time about how historical backgrounds and contexts shape our interpretation of the Bible, but I’m sorry to say - the historical background and context of this text don’t change what Jesus is saying. Jesus is very clearly telling us that our job as Christians is to lose ourselves in following Jesus. 

And Jesus calls us to follow him in serving others - healing the sick, feeding the hungry, standing up for the oppressed. Jesus’ life was a life of service, and that is how we are to follow him. We are to serve Jesus by serving others, even if it means dying. We are to serve, not survive. Jesus is telling us that we’re to stop asking, “How can I keep living? How can we keep living?” Instead, Jesus is telling us to ask ourselves, “How can I die for others? How can we die for others?” For those who want to keep living, those who want to survive, those who want to save their lives, will lose them. And those who want to die for others, those who want to serve, those who want to lose their lives for Jesus’ sake and for the sake of the gospel - the message that God loves the world - will save them.

But this isn’t easy. This is, in fact, probably the most difficult thing that Jesus tells us to do. Because it’s simply not in our nature to think this way. Biologically, we are geared to survival, and every structure in our society, from family set-up, to social mores, to financial systems, to the business world - they all operate on the belief that we’re supposed to live, and that we’re supposed to grow. And so we spend all of our time and energy, encouraged by those around us, on figuring out how we can keep going. How can we prolong our lives? How can we stay in our homes as long as possible? What medical care will keep us breathing? What will keep us in our church? How can we keep the congregation running?

And we make choices that ensure that we are the ones who survive. It is a very utilitarian, and a very self-centred, and as Luther points out, a very sinful and selfish, way of living in the world. Just think about your own lives, and the choices you have made about what jobs you will take and which you will refuse, and about whom you will marry, and about how many kids you will have, and where you will live. I’m not trying to get down on the choices that everybody makes in life. This is what we do. This is certainly what I have done. We make choices that put ourselves and our survival first, and we call these choices practical, and realistic, and pragmatic. We make choices that give us good careers, and successful families, and prospering churches.

And we are rewarded - at least in this world - for these choices. We get accolades, we get thanks, we get praise. This is also what Jesus received. When he performed all the miracles leading up to this point in our story in Mark, he was praised and lauded and even glorified. He healed the sick, he fed thousands, and the disciples called him the Messiah - the anointed one of the Lord. He was on a path to glory, and his disciples were happy to follow him. It’s a good path - healing the sick and feeding the hungry and receiving the gratefulness of the crowds. Peter, like us, was perfectly happy to follow Jesus along it. Peter, like us, was not at all keen to give that path up. And when Jesus said that it was time to follow him along the next section of that path - a section that would involve shame, and suffering, and death, Peter stopped. Peter did not want to die - he wanted to keep living, just as we do. Peter, and I have great compassion for Peter, did not want shame - he wanted glory. Peter, just like us, did not want to serve - he wanted to survive.

But ultimately, Peter did follow Jesus. Peter did actually give up his life for the sake of Jesus and the Gospel. He focused on serving, instead of surviving, and on dying for others instead of living for himself. He brought the gospel to thousands of people and was one of the founders of the Christian church. And yes, he died, as Jesus did, crucified by Emperor Nero. He took Jesus’ challenge and he became a follower of Jesus, and he gave up his life for the sake of the Gospel, and he saved it.

But how? How did Peter manage to change from the man who stood in Jesus’ way to the disciple who truly followed him to the cross? More to the point, how can we change from being people who make the most practical decision, and who focus on survival, to being people who follow Jesus and make decisions to serve those in need and to die so that others may live?

Well, to be honest, it did take Peter some time. He didn’t experience a miraculous epiphany. Even after Jesus’ moving speech, Peter still tried to kill the centurion who came to arrest Jesus, and Peter still denied him in the courtyard of Pontius Pilate’s house. Peter, at that point, was still trying to survive, not to serve. But what Peter came to realize later, what he realized only after Jesus had died and was raised again, was that Jesus’ words were actually true. They were impractical, and radical, and totally unrealistic, and true. You see, Jesus Christ gave his life for us. For Peter, too. He chose to serve, instead of survive. He chose to give his life for the sake of the Gospel, so that we might live. He chose death so that we might have life. And what Peter realized, and what we as Christians come to realize, is that we have this new life now. We live, because Jesus has already served us. We have the life of the risen Christ, given to us in baptism and Holy Communion, a life that frees us from worrying about survival because it has nothing to do with survival. We have already been given a new life that is not threatened by death, a new life that is not threatened by service. We have been given the life of Christ, a life that enables us to serve, and to die, and to put others before ourselves. As individuals, and as a congregation, and in our families at home, and in our church family, we have been given this new life that proves to us that the life truly worth living, the life that brings actual life, is the one that serves instead of survives. That chooses to die instead of live. The new, resurrected, God-given life of Jesus Christ. God is already walking with us as we follow Christ along this path.

Of course, we are easily distracted. And it is very very easy to fall back into the old way of living, where we opt for self-preservation instead of selflessness. Every day we are faced with decisions about which path to follow - every day we are confronted with the choice between serving those in need or ensuring our own survival, whether it’s in our own lives or in the church’s life. For example, as a congregation, we are currently facing the question of this church’s future. And we ask ourselves frequently, “Are we going to survive? How can we keep going? What can we do to keep this church alive?” But, because we are Christians, Jesus’ words remind us to ask ourselves different questions. To ask, “Is this decision about surviving or about serving?” “Are we focused on living for ourselves, or are we focused on dying for others?” For example, as we consider finances and survival, I want to offer you an alternative vision of life, and I want to frame it in the context of the current refugee crisis we are witnessing in the world right now, because if there is anyone who is in desperate need right, now, it’s these women and children. So. If we look at the life of this congregation, the yearly cost for physically maintaining this building is equivalent to the cost of sponsoring four or five refugees a year. The yearly cost of my salary and benefits is equivalent to sponsoring seven or eight refugees - or three families - every year. The total yearly cost for this congregation to survive - building costs and salaries - equals sponsoring fifteen refugees. The amount of money that it takes for this congregation to survive every year would bring in six families a year. Over the next five years, the money spent on this congregation’s survival would sponsor thirty refugee families, or seventy-five individuals. Over the next ten years, the money spent on survival would sponsor 150 refugees, or 60 families. And not to focus on St John alone, but if every Lutheran congregation in Calgary closed except for one - if we all amalgamated into one Lutheran congregation in the city of Calgary, we could sponsor over 1500 individual refugees over the next ten years. Instead of surviving as eleven separate congregations, we could serve over 600 refugee families. Instead of saving the lives of eleven Lutheran congregations, we could lose those lives, and in doing so give life to more than 2,000 women and children who would otherwise starve, or drown, or be bombed, or shot, or suffer the trauma of war. Experiences that many of the first members of this church were themselves escaping when they came to Canada seeking new life. And I know that what I’m saying is impractical, and unrealistic, and that you may want to take me aside and rebuke me. (And if you do, I promise I won’t call you Satan.) But, nevertheless, Jesus calls me to say it. Do with it what you will.

And if even entertaining the suggestion that God might be calling us to lose our life so that others may life is making you anxious, remember - God has already given you new life - and does so constantly, in every moment. God, through Christ, gives you the life that comes with service, not survival. This life brings joy, and happiness, and love to others, and to you. It is a life that God has already given you, in bits and pieces, here and there. I know you’ve felt it, because you’re here today. You’ve received this new life of God when others have served you, and prayed for you, and offered their time and energy to you. Some of you experienced this new life when you yourselves came over to this country as refugees, as my father and my grandparents did. Others of you have experienced this new life in other ways. But these moments have filled you up in ways that the struggle for survival has not. So you know that the path Christ calls us to follow is real, and can be done, and does bring new life. And you know that as hard as it is to follow Jesus along this path, that ultimately, this is the new life that God has already given us and invites us to share with others; and that we can, like Jesus, like Peter, like the Christians who have gone before us, follow Christ and lose our lives for his sake, and gain new life in return. Thanks be to God. Amen.

August 30, 2015 - Context Is Everything

Earlier this week, I was sitting at my kitchen table working on my computer, reading an article on gun safety and thinking - unrelatedly - about when our landlord was going to fix our fridge. And from behind me, my husband, who was washing up the dishes, said, “Is this dishwasher safe?” And I thought, “That’s weird - there’s nothing wrong with the dishwasher.” And just as I was turning to ask him why he thought the dishwasher was unsafe, I noticed that he was holding up a plastic container. And in a flash, it hit me that he wasn’t asking if the dishwasher was safe, he was asking, “Is *this* dishwasher-safe?” And of course I started laughing, because only I could make a mistake like that.

What came to mind at that moment, and what is extremely important for understanding our readings today, is the saying, “Context is everything.” Context really is everything. The circumstances surrounding the saying or the writing of particular words is what gives them meaning. And unless we know what those circumstances are - unless we know the context of the person saying or writing them - we can’t properly interpret them. When we see an adult who is horribly afraid of dogs, do we think they are overreacting when a large dog passes them on the street? Or, do we know their context - that they were severely bitten as a child and needed surgery and stitches? When we see a teenage girl panhandling on the street, do we think, “Kids these days! Why doesn’t she go home and get a job?” Or, do we know her context - that even the streets are better than being sexually abused night after night by her father and his friends? When I say, “I can’t stand my kids anymore!” do I mean that I want Child Protective Services to come and take them away forever, or do I mean they’re fighting over who dropped the glitter glue on the carpet and it’s only two more days until school starts and boy, I could sure use that break and I love them dearly? Context is everything. Is this dishwasher safe? Or is *this* dishwasher-safe? 

In the church, we see the need to understand context particularly when it comes to trying to interpret God’s commands to us. Our reading from Deuteronomy tells us that God’s commands are not to be changed or added to or subtracted in any way, yet in the Gospel we seem to hear Jesus, an observant Jew, saying to put the Law aside. Our reading from James tells us that only those who *act* on their faith are true Christians while Luther’s interpretation of the letters of Paul tell us that we are to rely on *faith alone.* We can only hold these contradictions together if we know the context behind their writing, and each book in our Bible has different ones.

But, you might say, isn’t God the same from day to day, from beginning to end, from now until eternity? Doesn’t that mean that God’s Word is the same no matter what the context? Well, yes, God is the same, in that our God is the Creator, and sent the Redeemer, and comes to us in the Sanctifier. But, our God is also the living God who is in relationship with us. And, as we know from also being living beings who are in relationships, this means that God changes. Our relationships with people changes us. Have you ever had a relationship with someone that, over time, changed some deeply-held opinion you had on a particular issue, whether for good or for bad? We change because we are responsive to those around us, and they change because they are responsive to us. And it’s the same with the living God who is in relationship with us. We change because the Holy Spirit lives in us, and God, too, changes from being in relationship with us. If you believe that prayer has the power to change things, it’s because deep down you believe that God is responsive and God changes. God repented of making humans in Noah’s time, and then God repented of flooding the world. Jesus changed his mind about not sharing the Gospel with the Samaritan woman after she challenged him. There’s a long explanation for why Christians have come to believe that God doesn’t change, which I won’t get into now, but the Scriptures don’t reflect that belief. Scripture tells us that God is living, and shows us that God changes, and most importantly, emphasizes that God responds to our contexts.

Which is why God’s commands to us change. Jesus said it himself when asked about divorce. He said, “Moses gave you this command because of your hard hearts, but I tell you...” Jesus understood that God had given a law through Moses at one time, in one particular context, that God was changing through Jesus at another time, because of a different context. God is responsive to our context. God is responsive to God’s relationship with us.

Now, I wouldn’t blame you if you are starting to feel a bit unmoored and as if you are floating at sea without an anchor. How on earth are we supposed to understand what God wants for us if there is no standard, enduring truth to the text? Well, for one thing, I’m not saying that there is no truth. The enduring truth of our Scriptures is that, out of love, God created us, that Jesus Christ redeems us, and that the Holy Spirit sanctifies us. The truth is that, out of love, God comes to us in the water of baptism and claims us as God’s children, and God comes to us in the bread and wine of communion and strengthens us for our journey. It’s what we do after that that is up for interpretation. How we live our lives as Christians *after* that depends on our context.

And here’s the thing - each person’s context is different. Which means that the way each Christian lives out their life is different. God’s word to each Christian is different, and each Christian holds a different interpretation of what God’s commands are. They all fall within that truth I just mentioned, and that’s how we know if they’re God’s words or not, but apart from that, they’re all different. But one Christian’s interpretation of God’s commands is no less valid than another’s, because one Christian’s context, and their relationship with God, is no less valid than another’s. Are Catholics less valid Christians than we are because they don’t ordain women based on what they see in Scripture? Are we less valid Christians than they are because we do? Are Christians from the Reformed Church less Christian because they don’t allow infant baptism? Are Anglicans less Christian because they do? Pride Week is next week - am I less Christian because I’ve marched in the San Francisco Pride Parade as a clergy ally based on my interpretation of Scripture? Are my dear colleagues in Calgary less Christian because they won’t? We come to our understandings of how God commands us to live because of our contexts. A Catholic’s context is no less valid than a Lutheran’s is no less valid than a Reformed Church member’s is no less valid than an Anglican’s is no less valid than an LGBT ally is no less valid than someone who is not. How I interpret God’s word depends on my context - my past and present experiences - and so it will be different than yours. And your interpretation depends on your context - your past and present experiences -  and therefore it will be different from the person sitting next to you, and from the person sitting in front of you, and the person sitting behind you.

Because God is in relationship with each of us. God is in relationship with you, and the person next to you, and in front and behind. More than that, God *loves* you, and the person next to you, and in front and behind. In love, God considers your context when God sends the Holy Spirit to you, and when God tells you to do or not do certain things. In love, God responds to your needs as you are in your particular situation, differently from how God responds to others, because our God is a living God who is in relationship with God’s creation. God is in relationship with the person afraid of dogs, and with the teenage girl on the street, and with my children, and with me. God is in relationship with Catholics and Lutherans and Anabaptists and Anglicans. God is in relationship with LGBT allies and with those who aren’t. God is in relationship with millions of people and is responsive to millions of contexts, which means that God has millions of words for each of these individuals. Which means that within God’s very large community, there are millions of interpretations of God’s word, and sometimes even contradictory ones, because people have very different, and sometimes even opposite contexts.

The Bible itself contains multiple interpretations of God’s word, which is why it is such a source of strength and insight to so many who don’t share the same experiences in life. The Bible says that God is a judge. It also says that God is merciful. The Bible says that God is a shepherd. It also says that God is a mother hen. The Bible mostly calls God “He,” but there are a few places here and there where God is called “She.” (Yeah.)  The Bible says that the guilty will be condemned. The Bible says that the guilty will be forgiven. The Bible says that Christians should follow Jewish law. The Bible says that Christians should not. Context is everything. The Bible says that Christians should follow Jewish Law because that portion was written at a time when Christians were trying to remain in fellowship with the Jewish community. The Bible says that Christians should not because that portion was written at a time when Christians were trying to differentiate themselves from the Jewish community. The Bible says that Christians shouldn’t eat meat from idol worship. The Bible says that it doesn’t matter, go ahead if you want to. And that’s in the same passage! Context is everything.

Now I understand if you might be feeling that this is a bit too much ambiguity. Am I talking about a safe dishwasher, or am I talking about whether something is safe for the dishwasher? It’s okay, though, to be unsure. Our God is big enough and deep enough and strong enough and loving enough to hold all of those millions of interpretations at the same time, because God loves each of us at the same time. God’s word to each one of you is different, but God holds the community together in love, and God’s love is, above all, what we cling to. The love shown to us in Christ Jesus, a love that goes deeper than interpretation and deeper than context, a love that created us, redeems us, and sanctifies us. Context *is* everything, and our God is even more than that. Thanks be to God. Amen.