Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts

Sunday, February 12, 2017

"I Will Praise God with an Upright Heart" - Feb. 12, 2017, Palms Westminster Presbyterian Church


Deuteronomy 30.15-18; Psalm 119.1-8; Matthew 5.21-37
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I will praise you with an upright heart, says the Psalmist.

I will turn to you, O God, with thanksgiving and devotion.

Praise is simply saying: 
To you, O LORD, I belong.
And how grateful I am.

Though sometimes we’re not so grateful to belong to the LORD.

Jeremiah regretted it.
Lots of others along the way, as well.

Because faith takes us into serious territory.

And we quickly learn: faith can be a burden.

This year, 2017, we celebrate the Birth of the Reformation.
Martin Luther nailed a few papers to the castle door in Wittenberg, Germany, to announce a disputation, a debate … and on those papers, 95 ideas, about faith, the church, and what it means to trust in the love of God.

Luther had no idea where it would all go.
But it didn’t take long for things to go bad.

And when it went bad, it was really bad.
The Pope condemned Luther for heresy.
The Emperor issued a death warrant.

The Pope and the Emperor called on Luther to recant.
Give it up.
Be quiet … go away.
We’ll be friends again.

Some of Luther’s friends gave him the same counsel.
Is it worth it Martin, to go through of all of this?
The brightest minds of the church say you’re wrong.
The emperor wants you dead; the Pope wants you back.
After a thousand years, Martin Luther, how can you now say that the Church has been wrong?
Are you not being a little arrogant about all of this?

Luther had times of great depression, Anfechtung in German - the very word sounds bad, doesn’t it? Anfectung!

Luther was no happy camper in the midst of so many struggles. 
Yes, he had joy, too - joy when he married, joy with his children, and good food and beer. 
He took comfort in the gospel, the pure love of God that can always be trusted … 

A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing …

But no one is an Iron Man.
No one is impervious to fear and doubt.
Luther did not always know “the joy of the LORD” … 
His faith took him to serious places … his work required huge burdens … 

Luther knew that somehow or other he was right.
But he didn’t have to be happy and sappy and clappy all the time. 
He didn’t have to sing praise jingles and put on a smile.
He didn’t have to fake it.
Or pretend that everything was wonderful.

My soul is heavy, he said.
My life is burdened.

The burdens of confronting the powers-that-be.
The death of two children.
The death of friends.
And the constant threat of arrest and execution.

But Luther knew he had to do what he was doing.
He was the man of the hour.
Upon whom the mantle of leadership had fallen.

Dear Christian friends, there is joy in knowing the grace of God and the love of our LORD Jesus Christ.

But like it or not, there’s more than one note in the symphony of God’s story.

There is also the discomfort and sting of the cross.
Take up your cross, says Jesus.
Be ready for enemies … ready for hard times.
What they’ve done to me, they’re likely to do to you, too.

Families will be upset.
People of your own household with turn against one another.

It helps to know something of church history.
To be mindful of those for whom the way of Christ has been a hard and difficult road.
American Christianity is far too eager to be happy.
To put on a smily face and play the game, “let’s pretend.”
In churches across America, preachers have become cheerleaders and crowd managers … whipping up the joy noise … and people go home having praised the LORD, but I’ll say to you, they praised without an upright heart … 

Jesus never pretended such nonsense.
And neither did Paul the Apostle, or any of the other great women and men who took up the cross and followed Christ.

Think of the Presbyterian Missionaries who traveled the Trail of Tears with the Cherokee.
Missionaries in far away lands, and day-by-day servants of the LORD, doing good, bearing burdens, feeding the hungry, caring for the poor, visiting those in prison, defending the unjustly accused, standing up for civil rights and justice.

Martin Luther, the Reformer.
Martin Luther King, Jr. on Petus Bridge.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer conspiring to take Hitler’s life.

Our own John Calvin in Geneva.
And a host of others who tackled the big stuff.
And paid a big price.

So, let’s be clear.
To praise God with an upright heart is to be real.
Authentic, engaged.
Devoted, ready.

Ready to offer the whole of our lives.
A sweet offering unto God.

As best we can.
From day-to-day, and,
Over the years.

Wholeheartedly.
And then, sometimes, not so much.
And then, sometimes.
Maybe not at all.

But God remains faithful - that’s the gospel.
Always and forever faithful.
Faithful to us.
Faithful to the ultimate purpose of God’s love - to restore creation, give life, set the captives free, give sight to the blind, healing to the sick … 

God keeps going.
And, then, in some miraculous way, so do we.

God’s grace at work.
The Holy Spirit within us, around us.
Through the life of the church.
And the life of all who dare to think deeply.

In the novel, “All the Light We Cannot See,” author Anthony Doerr tells the tale of a girl gone blind by age 6 … she lives with her father, a widower.
The father builds a miniature of the neighborhood, and she learns how to feel every little street and every little house with her finger tips, and then she walks with her father, with her cane, feeling the sidewalk, the buildings, the gutter drains, learning her neighborhood.
The father takes her out one day on their usual walk, and then, he turns her around several times and says, “Take us home, Marie-Laurie.”
With bumps and bruises, and busy folks bumping into her, she drops her cane and begins to cry.
Her father lifts her up and hugs her tightly.
“It’s so big,” she whispers.
“You can do this Marie.”

At first she can’t.
And then one day …

And for us, too … by the Holy Spirit:
We try, and try again.
People bump into us … we lose our way … 
It’s so big, we cry.
And it is.
And sometimes we can’t.
But in time, something good happens.

We grow in the grace of God.
We learn the power of prayer.
We give and receive love.
We engage and serve.
We weep and we laugh.
We lament and we try again.

Because it is so big.

Jesus speaks of big things:

Murder and judgment.
Adultery and love.
Oath making and truthfulness.

Serious stuff, is it not?

Many years ago, I showed a film to my session, produced by physicians against nuclear war … a stirring presentation of our need to work for peace and oppose war.

Afterward, one of the elders came to me and said, “Well, Tom, if there’s a nuclear war, and we all die, we just go to heaven. What’s wrong with that?”

I don’t know what I said then - I don’t think I managed that one very well.

So the question bounced around in my head for a long time until I came up with a story, of a man who dreamed of going to heaven.

And when the man stood by the pearly gates, St. Peter said to him: “You didn’t care about God’s earth; what makes you think you’ll care about God’s heaven.” And the man was turned away.

Nothing is more important to God then how we live with one another, and how we take care of God’s earth. 

It’s all so big, we cry!
And so it is.
But we can learn to do it.

Because we have to.

For the truth … our own survival, God’s green earth … 

To hear some Christians yak about it, you’d think God didn’t care about the snails and the minnows … but God cares deeply … all living creatures … when the Bible says, God so loved the world, that ain’t just you and me … it’s all of God’s creatures, great and small … the whole shebang, all of it … and that’s the truth … the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The truth that sets us free.
To have an upright heart.
Honest and real.
Serious about the things of God.
Serious about how we live with one another and how we care for God’s creation.

I will praise you with an upright heart.


Amen and Amen.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

September 2, 2012, "Careful Listening, Deep Loving"

First in a series of messages from the Book of James.

James 1.19-27



I have come to the Book of James late in my life.

I’ve quoted from the Book of James throughout my ministry - the famous line, faith without works is dead, but it’s only in the last 5 or 6 years that I’ve come to read and love the whole Book of James; to spend time with it … to appreciate the fullness, the breadth and depth, of the message of James …

It’s a small book with big ideas.

Wisdom - ask God for it, and God will give it to us.

Never doubt God’s good intentions.

Wealth - wealth is dangerous.

And to the wealthy, some of the toughest words in all the Bible.

Prayer is powerful.

Patience in hard times.

Be honest with ourselves and honest with one another.

Do not let anger take hold.

Watch the tongue … it’s small, and it’s mighty … like a tiny rudder on a large ship … or a small flame and a forest fire.

Be quick to listen, slow to speak.

Pure and undefiled religion: caring for widows and orphans.

My son tells the story of a 16-year old orphan boy - parents dead from AIDS … no one to pay for his schooling; schooling in Swaziland isn’t free. And he lives where he can.

He took art lessons as part of my son’s last project … the young man learned how to mix colors and use brushes, so he could do mural work on a social center.

Part of the training was to encourage artistic talent in a culture where art is largely missing; to encourage them use art as a profession, that it’s possible to make a living from art, and these lessons were given by professional artists.
Students were also given bristol board with supplies to take home for practice.

My son gave the young man a GI Joe comic book, and the young man did a large rendition of the cover - he had to mix his own colors, but he did it … Josh will show it to you now.

And, by the way, Josh will have a chance to chat with you after the service … and at a later date, will give a report on his Peace Corps work in Swaziland - many thanks to Calvary on the Boulevard and your generous assistance for my son’s work.

But for now, an orphan boy with talent.

And a reminder from James: pure religion, the religion God desires, the love God wants us to share - to care for orphans and widows in the their difficulty … 

Who are the orphans and widows in our world here and now … in Los Angeles … Southern California … the Southwest … or Chicago, Miami or Baltimore, and a thousand other places around the world?

In Los Angeles, how many children live on the streets?

How many widows live on a small Social Security check … eking by, day-by-day?

Some Christians say: Preacher, tell me how to get to heaven. That’s what I need to know. What will it take for me to get to heaven? What must I know? What must I believe?

James tells us:

We get to heaven by loving what God loves here and now … and doing what God does.

James knows full well that we CAN love what God loves … and we CAN do what God does.

Martin Luther, the great Reformer of the 16th Century, called James, an epistle of straw.

Luther doubted the book of James because James reminds us that good works are a reflection of real faith.

Faith in the LORD Jesus Christ, if it’s real, rolls up its sleeves and gets to work.

We have to be kind to Luther.

Luther suspected James because Luther saw what Medieval Christianity had become - a religion of works-anxiety - have I done enough to go to heaven when I die?

Medieval religion was all about going to heaven, and if you didn’t do things rights, you would go to hell, and if you didn’t go to hell, you would at least spend millions of years in purgatory, because even the really good weren’t that good, and fire-time in Purgatory was necessary to purify the soul so that some day the soul could get to heaven.

Life in the Middles Ages was short, dark and damp … so getting to heaven was everything … 

The church used this to manipulate people with fear.

Luther knew this firsthand.

His early spiritual life was filled with anxiety.

Have I done enough to merit god’s favor?

Have I confessed my sins, all of them?

Will I ever know peace with God?

Luther could see no way out … until he read the Book of Romans and learned that those who are right in the eyes of God live by faith … faith alone … faith in what Jesus has done … to cover our sin, and pave the way for our entrance into heaven, free and clear.

When Luther read the Book of James, Luther was suspicious of anything that smacked of law … anything that would compromise the power of faith.

We might well learn from Luther what troubled him about “good works.”

Luther saw folks trying to be good … not for the sake of being good, but in order to save their own necks!

Luther rightly understood - a deed done for another human being to further our own spiritual standing isn’t a good a deed at all.

The hungry may be fed, and that’s good.

The naked might be clothed, and that’s good, too.

But the giver is damned, for there is no love in such deeds … for the giver loves only herself … the hungry and the cold are used to further the spiritual status of the giver.

We can read James and grow in our faith-understanding … and realize, full and clear: Faith gives birth to works.

Faith in God is our love for what God loves.

Faith in God is our effort to do what God does.

To live a life pleasing in the sight of God!

Quick to listen, writes James.

Slow to anger.

Because anger cannot produce God’s righteousness.

Put away evil, says James.

And what is the evil we’re invited to put away?

Moral filth, as the Common English Bible says.

When it comes to filth, don’t be misled by the last 150 years of fundamentalist preaching.

It’s not about sex and alcohol or card-playing and dancing, or swearing and cussing - as some have preached.

It’s a failure to listen to one another.

A failure to care for one another regardless of social status.

It’s playing favorites with social status - give the wealthy man the best seat in the house, and tell the poor man to stand against the wall or sit at the feet of the wealthy.

It’s the adulation of wealth and the condemnation of the poor … a spirit of carelessness and selfishness.

To counter this moral filth … to resist the contamination of our spirit, James writes: Welcome the word deep inside of you.

And what is that word?

The royal law, says James: Love your neighbor as yourself.

James takes us to Jesus.

And it’s Jesus who takes us to the Father.

And it’s the Father who says to us, This is my son, the chosen one, listen to him.

James has listened well to Jesus.

And it does us well to listen to James.

For in James, we see Jesus.

In the words of James, we hear the Word of God.

Amen and Amen!