July 8, 2012, "Violence and Grace"

2 Samuel 5.1-4

The news is all around us.

The evening news, a mid-day report on our favorite radio station, the LA Times, the internet … journals and magazines …

No end to the stories, and most of them sad:

• Giant corporations manipulate stock prices.
• Famous movie star gets a divorce.
• Unrest all around the world.
• Muslims blow up a church.
• Christians burn down a mosque.

We shake our heads.

Shed our tears.

Offer up a prayer:

Have mercy on our troubled world, O God.

Bear with us, we pray.

Keep loved ones safe.

Bless our leaders with patience and vision.

Deliver us from evil.

An excellent book about Los Angeles in the 20^th Century … L.A. Noir … by John Buntin … weaves a tale of violence and grace around two characters: Chief of Police, William Parker and Mobster, Mickey Cohen (some of you remember their names and the headlines they generated).

My daughter gave me the book because she knows how much I’m interested in the places where I live … I’ve always made an effort to understand how and why a town looks and feels and lives like it does … and every place is different … and every place has its story!

Yet there’s a common thread to every story; certain themes emerge all the time: violence and grace … the dark side of life, and the bright light of hope … things going to hell in a handbasket and folks joining hands to make things better.

Violence and grace.

Mobster, Mickey Cohen, would kill without a second thought - it was a part of doing business.

He said in an interview years later, I killed no men that in the first place didn’t deserve killing.

Cohen’s nemesis was Chief of Police, William Parker. If you drive downtown, you may well pass the Parker Center, named after Chief Parker.

Cohen and Parker battled for the soul of the city.

As I read Buntin’s book, I kept saying to my wife, What a sad story.

At every turn of the page, graft, corruption, greed, people playing for power.

Movie studios and actors, mobsters, reporters, politicians, attorneys and bankers, and the police - everyone in someone’s pocket … everyone buying or selling influence … no one clean.

Mickey Cohen was kind to friends, generous with folks who worked for him, and he loved dogs. 

Chief William Parker was often mean-spirited, bigoted, and given to heavy drinking.

Even the worst are not always bad … and even the best are not always good.

But here we are.

I love Los Angeles … I ride the trains and take the bus … an amazing city of many cultures and languages, hopes and dreams.

From the ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier to the tall pines in Big Bear - we live in an amazing city.

I suppose we could say It’s a miracle that Los Angeles survived as it did.

What with all the violence, grace abounds!

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.

In 1853, seven years before the Civil War, the Rev. Dr. Theodore Parker, an abolitionist working to free this nation from the evils of slavery, wrote: I do not pretend to understand the moral universe; the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways; I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.

These words were likely the inspiration for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who said: The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

The Bible is honest … 

And always hopeful.

Images of hope abound:

• Let my people go.
• The Promised Land.
• The lion and the lamb lay down together.
• A child leads them.
• Justice rolls down like water.
• The new heaven and the new earth.
• Perfect light and no more tears.

Paul the Apostle writes to the Christians in Rome: where sin increased, grace abounded all the more [Romans 5.20].

God is not going to be defeated!

God’s purpose prevails.

The arc of history bends toward justice … to what is good and true and right … that which sets us free and gives us life … out of the house of bondage, out of the land of Egypt … through the wilderness, mana in the morning, water from a rock … until we find our way home!

That’s the story Samuel tells - grace, like a golden thread, woven into the dark tapestry of history … grace, like a cold beer on a hot day … grace, like a loved one’s smile at the end of a tough week … grace, like the love of our LORD Jesus born into dangerous times.

The opening chapters of 2 Samuel are neck-deep in blood.

The death of Saul.

The young mercenary killed by David’s servant.

War between Israel and Judah.

Abner murdered by Joab.

Saul’s son, Israel’s king, murdered by his own men.

They bring his head to David, and meet the same fate.

2 Samuel 3 says: The war between Saul’s house and David’s house was long and drawn out. 

Is there is any hope in any of this?

Any light?

Any grace?

2 Samuel 3 … a grace note: David kept getting stronger, while Saul’s house kept getting weaker.

It has to be David.

He’s not perfect … far from it … David sins with the best of them.

But he’s a man after God’s own heart.

David remains a man of deep loyalty.

If ANYTHING can be said about God, God is loyal.

Loyal to the creation God loves so dearly.

Loyal to the creature that bears God’s image.

Loyal to the dream that one day this creature will get it right.

So loyal, that God will do anything to make it work … even die on a Roman Cross, despised by his enemies, abandoned by his friends.

In the long and terrible drama of redemption, the loyalty of God … 

God doesn’t give up, no matter the cost.

God’s loyalty on every page of the Bible.

We call that loyalty Grace.

Amazing Grace … the purest grace of all.

When the Son of David is born in David’s little town … angels sing to shepherds in the hills; wise men from the east follow a star … the Anointed One is born.

The Anointed One renders unto the Father a great loyalty … the loyalty of love … a love rich and pure, a love big enough to fill every dark hole in the universe with light.

A love I can never give to the Father, so Jesus gives this love to the Father on my behalf.

For all of humanity … every last one of us - and even more: for all creatures, great and small … 

The Leviathan of the Deep, and the creepy-crawly critters of the night … 

The hawk flying high in the morning sky, and the zebra dancing across the plain … 

For all of creation - the Son of David is born.

Yes, there is violence, and plenty of it.

And there is grace, even more.

Grace, mercy and peace.

Glory to God.

And to the Son of David, eternal praise.

Amen and Amen!

Passion - August 3, 2008

Romans 9:1-5

I like the Apostle Paul.

He’s my middle name.

I’ve often joked that my parents gave me the perfect name … Thomas Paul … Thomas the Doubter; Paul the Believer … and I’m somewhere in between: “LORD, I believe; help my unbelief.”

Believing always includes pieces of unbelief … and unbelief always flirts with believing … Thomas Paul … the Doubter, the Believer … for me, it’s a good combination … and I’ve always been grateful.

I’ve always been glad to share Paul’s name, and I’m glad to share in Paul’s vocation.

He’s a pastor …
He’s a missionary …
He’s a teacher …

Utterly humbled by his Damascus Road experience …

Paul is patient …
Paul is a man of Good News …
A preacher of grace … passionate about grace.

Paul is real … he frets and fusses like we all do … he gets angry, has regrets; he defends himself and then apologizes for being defensive; he’s at a loss for words, and he’s eloquent; he’s tender and he’s testy … in other words, just like you and me, he’s a sinner saved by grace.

I like Paul.

His credentials make him a voice worth listening to.
No armchair philosopher.
His faith is forged on the anvil of suffering.
Paul puts himself on the line again and again.
Paul knows the pain and humiliation of a Roman lash.
The filth of a prison in Philippi.
He’s been shipwrecked and robbed.
Beaten and belittled.
He’s been hungry and cold.

At one point, Paul asks, “Am I doing this for human approval?” If so, I must be nuts. But what I do I do for God [Galatians 1:10; 1 Thessalonians 2:4].

Does Paul understanding everything there is to understand about the Gospel? … not at all, and he’d be the first to say so.
Should we take everything Paul writes with unquestioned literalness? … Paul would say like any good theologian – “Let’s talk about this. Let’s think deeply about Jesus. Let’s talk about grace.”

“I’m not the issue,” Paul would say.
“Jesus is the issue.”

Paul believes that God did something profound in Jesus …

For a moment, we have to put on our thinking caps … we have to remember that Paul is a Jew … when Paul talks about God, it’s the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob … the God who led the children of Israel out of slavery, through the wilderness to the Promised Land … the God of King David and the God of the Prophets … the God who sent His people into exile and then brought them home again …

Paul believes that the whole story was headed for the moment when Jesus was born … that all the hopes and fears of humankind are focused in that Bethlehem babe … Jesus of Nazareth, the man of sorrows.

Paul believes that Jesus is the fulcrum on which the whole world is balanced – Jew and Gentile, free and slave, male and female; past, present and future – the whole world, the universe …
In Jesus, God is at work, reconciling the world to Himself.
Doing for humankind what humankind could never do for itself … to shoulder the burden and pay the price … to lift up the weary and heal the sick … to give sight to the blind and set the oppressed free.

Paul’s letter to the Romans is often dense and difficult … Paul is writing to a community he’s never visited … but he knows a few of them … Paul hopes one day to visit Rome and then travel on to Spain.

Paul never stops thinking about the world.
Paul’s vision is large.
Paul cares about the spiritual wellbeing of people … because God loves the world … God’s grace and mercy are present and obvious everywhere … yet Paul sees the terrible confusion that fogs the mind and heart of humankind.
Paul is passionate about people.

Paul lives in the Roman Empire … he’s a Roman citizen … he’s no one’s fool … Paul has seen the world and he’s seen it all.

Roman says, “Caesar is lord” … Paul says, “Jesus is LORD.”
The world expects salvation from Rome … Paul says, “The hope of the world is Jesus.”
Folks called Caesar savior … Paul replies, “Jesus saves!”

The end of Paul’s life is not recorded … the last we hear of him, he’s in Rome, imprisoned … under house arrest of sorts, with a guard. He’s free to have visitors, free to write his letters …

Tradition is murky at this point … but everything suggests execution … this is what Rome did to anyone who challenged its authority, who created a disturbance, and Paul created lots of disturbance wherever he went.
Paul is passionate about truth.

Our reading today is a fascinating piece of a very large puzzle …

[read text …]

Putting it as simply as we can, folks wondered if something had gone terribly wrong with God’s plan of salvation.

If Jesus is from the Jews, by the Jews, for the Jews, then why have only a few Jews acknowledged Jesus as LORD and Savior?

And if something has gone wrong, could Paul be wrong?
And if Paul is wrong, is the gospel wrong?
Have we gotten it wrong?
Have we bet on the wrong horse?
Have we hung our hat on the wrong peg?

People were putting their lives on the line for the gospel … so folks wanted to know: Is Jesus the One?

Is Jesus is the long awaited Messiah?
If Jesus is the way, the truth and the life?
Is Jesus is everything you claim Him to be, Paul?
Then why have so few of His own welcomed Him?

Paul was caught between an expectation of how things might to work and how things were really working.

Who hasn’t been there a time or two? Caught between expectation and reality.

We’ve made our plans, figured it out, put pencil to paper – googled it and talked it out with friends and family, and everyone says, “Yup, that’s a good idea.”
Then life takes an unexpected turn – events unfold in their own chaotic way, and who would’ve guessed.
Monday morning quarterbacks tell us we should’ve done it differently.
We find ourselves saying, “If I knew then when I know now, I would have made different decisions. I would have gone in another direction.”

That’s the hard edge for Paul …
Paul is caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

Let’s step back for a moment … and think a bit more about Paul!

Paul is brilliant and well-trained.
He knows the story of Israel inside out and backwards.
He’s has spent a lifetime with God.

With a life-changing moment on the Damascus Road.

You know the story:
A blinding light hurls him into the dust of the road …
A voice addresses him, using his Jewish name, Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Who are you, LORD? Paul replies.
I’m not persecuting you.
I’m defending you.
I’m on your side.
I’m doing what’s right.
I’m living my faith.
And I’m persecuting you?

In a blinding moment of realization, Paul’s certainty is shaken to the core.
The world, as he knows it, is suddenly turned upside down.
Everything up for grabs.
The story Paul knew so well suddenly grows strange.
This is an unexpected twist.
A turn he didn’t see.

Who are you, LORD?

I am Jesus!

But you’re not the one!
We tried you in our courts and found you wanting.
The Roman Empire charged you with sedition and executed you.
You’re dead and buried.
We put you away.
We’re done with all of this.
And I’m doing what I can to stamp out the remnants of this distorted movement.

Who are you, LORD?
I am Jesus!

There are some sidebars to this story.

The voice asks, Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?
Ring any bells?
Of course … King Saul … Israel’s first king … from the tribe of Benjamin, just like Paul is from the tribe of Benjamin – like two folks discovering they’re both from Westchester.
Saul, Saul.

Echoes here of King Saul’s intent to kill David … the young shepherd boy, David, is hired to play the harp to soothe Saul’s depression, but in a fit of rage, Saul hurls a spear at David hoping to pin him to the wall.

David escapes … and the inevitable begins to unfold … David’s popularity eclipses that of Saul … time and again, Saul fails; David succeeds … Saul fusses and fumes and embarks upon a campaign to kill David, chasing David through the wilderness, persecuting David.

Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?

In this remarkable moment on the Damascus Road, Paul sees his murderous rage for what is - misdirected and ill-conceived … it’s all wrong.
Paul suddenly sees through fog of his own convictions and traditions – Jesus is the LORD God of Israel.
Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus of the Cross … Jesus, son of Mary and Joseph … the LORD God of Israel.

The man on the road thought he knew so much, but now asks the simplest of questions: Who are you, LORD?

There’s a second element here … remember the call of Moses?
Moses the shepherd in Midian.
When off to the side, one day, Moses sees a burning bush … in the middle of nowhere.
I’d better check this out, thinks Moses.
And when he’s near to the bush, God calls him, Moses, Moses.

Twice named … just to be sure.
Saul, Saul, why do your persecute me?

When God commissions Moses to return to Egypt and lead the people to the Promised Land, Moses asks, Who are you, LORD? Do you have a name?

God replies, I Am Who I Am – Yahweh – I Am Who I Am.
When the people ask you, tell them “I Am has sent me.”

God’s name, I Am, Yahweh …
The sacred name … so sacred, Israel didn’t say it – they said, Adonai instead, and Adonai means LORD.

The LORD God Almighty … Yahweh … creator of the heavens and the earth … the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob … the God of the Prophets …

On the Damascus Road, Paul realizes that Jesus is the LORD God Almighty … that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is Jesus of Nazareth.

Who are you, LORD?
I am Jesus!

And with that, Jesus says to Paul, Now get up and get on your way; I’ve got work for you to do.

And work Paul did.
To tell the story … now with a twist.
To tell the old, old story, with a new chapter.

What God started in Abraham has come to pass in Jesus.
Yes, we killed Him.
But God the raised Him from the dead and crowned Him LORD of lords and King of kings.

This is not what I expected, says Paul.
But who can guess the mind of God?
The ways of love are beyond our grasp.

A story to tell to the nations … a story of goodness and hope … a story to set nations free and liberate the soul from superstition and idolatry … to break the chains of sin and sorrow.

But it wasn’t long before Paul realized that others didn’t see it as he did.
Have you ever been convinced of something, tried to explain it to someone else, only to have them scratch their head and say “huh?”

The question plagues Paul:
If I have seen this, why can’t my brothers and sisters see it?

Could I be wrong?
Again?
I was wrong before.
Might I be wrong again?

Our text today has to be read in the light of the whole book.
Paul remains clear – all things work together for good, all things for the glory of God and welfare of creation.

Though my heart breaks for my own people, I know that God’s love for them remains intact … there will be a day when the barriers come down.

Paul is passionate.
He would trade his salvation for the sake of his own people.

Like a parent at a child’s hospital bedside, “I’d take my child’s place if I could.”
“I would suffer in their stead.”

So says Paul about his own people.
If I could, I’d change places with them.

But Paul doesn’t lose his confidence in the goodness of God … Paul knows that it will end well.

All things work together for good.
God is faithful.
The covenant God made with Abraham and Sarah remains … if there’s a strange twist to the story, so be it.

Stories have a way of taking a strange twist.
But God’s love remains.
The hope is right.
The vision secure.

I like Paul.
He’s a man of passion.

He met Jesus and followed Him to the end of his days.

I’m glad to share Paul’s name.

And with all of you, to know the Damascus LORD, our LORD Jesus Christ.

Amen and Amen!