June 23, 2013, "What the Bible Teaches"

Psalm 105.1-5

Photo taken by D - Northern CA

1 Corinthians 16.13-14

Last week, at the end of our service

Our choir sang, Jesus loves me, this I know,

For the Bible tells me so.

For some reason, and who knows why

It struck me … what does the Bible tell us?

Certainly it tells us many things.

Or, at least offers many things:

For example, 

If someone has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father and mother, who does not heed them when they discipline him, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the gate of that place. They shall say to the elders of his town, “This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious. He will not obey us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.” Then all the men of the town shall stone him to death ~ Deuteronomy 21.18-21.

If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death. The man who lies with his father’s wife has uncovered his father’s nakedness; both of them shall be put to death; their blood is upon them. If a man lies with his daughter-in-law, both of them shall be put to death; they have committed perversion, their blood is upon them. If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death; their blood is upon them. If a man takes a wife and her mother also, it is depravity; they shall be burned to death ~ Leviticus 20.10-14.

In the New Testament:

women should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as the law also says. ³⁵If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church ~ 1 Corinthians 14.34-35.

Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. ¹²I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; ¹⁴and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor ~ 1 Timothy 2.11 - 13.

silly women, overwhelmed by their sins and swayed by all kinds of desires ~2 Timothy 3.6,

These passages have been used to deny women a place in church and society … passages that seem to imply the inferiority of women, the weakness of women, the unreliability of women, that women should keep silent in the church, and so on and so forth.

In the United States, when women were seeking the right to vote, Scripture was cited to prove that women just weren’t capable of making sound decisions, women couldn’t be trusted with such weighty matters.

Women couldn’t be pastors, nor could they be elders or deacons … women weren’t fit for such things.

Behind some of the rhetoric these days about abortion and equal pay for women at work, we hear some of the same language - women cannot fully make their own decisions, but need a man to oversee them, subjugate them, keep them in line, behaving themselves.

The Bible offers many things ...

But the choir sang, Jesus loves me, 

This I know.

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to him belong.

They are weak.

But he is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

For the Bible tells me so.

Does the Bible have a central message?

A great theme?

An overarching idea?

One thought, one message, one image greater than all the rest?

That takes precedence over everything else?

In the light of which, everything else is read?

Interpreted?

Understood?

Preached and taught?

Some have said that everything in the Bible has equal weight …

Everything? like stoning a rebellious son.

Or burning to death an adulterer.

Or keeping women out of the pulpit.

I think we have to be very careful!

Now I don’t know about you.

But for me, there is a central message in the Bible.

A theme that stands out above all other ideas.

An image that transcends all other stories.

The life and love of Jesus the Christ.

Jesus the anointed one.

The holy one of God.

The Word of God Incarnate.

The Son of God.

The Lamb of God.

Who takes away the sins of the world.

Call it mercy.

Call it love.

Call it the final reality.

The ultimate purpose.

The overarching theme that calls all other themes to itself … the criteria by which we read the rest of the Bible.

Paul writes to the Corinthians: Let all that you do be done in love.

And what is love?

Paul says it best of all:

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. 

Let all that you do be done in love.

Without love, it’s not real.

Without love, it can only hurt.

Without love, it has no value.

No endurance.

No lasting place in the kingdom of God.

Paul says it so well:

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Paul writes at the end of his letter:

Keep alert, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong.

Good words, for sure.

But Paul adds, just to be sure: Whatever you do, do it with love.

Be alert, but do with it love.

Stand firm in your faith, but do it with love.

Be courageous, but do it with love.

Be strong, but do it with love.

Alertness, without love, will only tire us out.

Standing firm in our faith, without love, will only make us stubborn and hard-headed.

Courage, without love, quickly becomes thoughtless grandstanding and showing off.

Strength, without love, quickly turns into domination and bullying.

Love is the preeminent idea that runs throughout all the Bible.

Love builds up.

Love makes all things new.

Love tends to forgive a lot.

Love seeks new beginnings.

So we no longer stone unruly sons.

We no longer burn to death adulterers.

Doors have been opened to women … though we still have a way to go … women in the workplace need to be free of sexual harassment … women deserve equal pay for equal work … and equal opportunity for advancement.

Love is all about open doors.

Opportunity.

Advancement.

Invitation and welcome.

Love is real … 

Love meets the challenges of life.

On Thursday, I took the bus downtown to visit Nick at the Detention Center - he’s doing well, and gives his greetings and love to everyone here … and he asks for our prayers.

While on the bus, I saw some rowdy people … walking a few blocks through downtown LA, I heard three arguments … two in English, and one in a language I didn’t understand … but I didn’t need to understand it … raised voices, intonation, inflection, demeanor, cast of the body, fingers pointing … 

Human beings all argue in the same way …

Human beings are a tough bunch … a strange bunch of critters we are … we argue, because we misunderstand … we fight, because we’re afraid … we go to war to protect ourselves … we hate with ease, and we hurt someone without blinking an eye … our mouths speak trash … our hearts conceive of terrible things … and sometimes we commit terrible deeds … human beings are a tough bunch.

And that’s why love is essential.

Love is the only thing that can conquer the dark spirits of the human soul … love and love alone can shine a bright light of hope on the human predicament … love reminds all of us that we can do better, and we must.

Do we realize the fullness of love?

Sometimes we do.

Do we live every day in love.

Sometimes we do.

Do we turn to love when we’re tempted to go the other way?

Sometimes we do.

And that’s the point of the gospel … keep on trying … and sometimes we succeed, sometimes we really do it, and do it right …

So, never give up, dear friends.

Stay with it.

For the Spirit of God assists us.

And, yes, we can love.

Sometimes.

And that’s enough to get the job done.

For God loves all the time.

And God joins God’s love to our love.

Our love …

With God’s love, becomes love, all the time.

Amen and Amen!

Nasty

2 Samuel 11:1-15

One of my all-time favorite films, “Rain” – from Somerset Maugham’s story of the same title, starring Joan Crawford as a women of questionable reputation – and her fellow passengers stuck on a dumpy island in the Pacific because of cholera.
With all the usual suspects.
In the bar, one evening, some unpleasant conversation about the woman … but the bartender says, “We’ve all crossed thresholds we’re not proud of.”

Who hasn’t?
Who doesn’t have a closet full of junk; a shoebox full of shame?

Maybe that’s why Jesus said to the mob with stones in their hands, Let the one without sin cast the first stone.
How we love the feel of the stone in our hand; eager to throw it, hard and fast, at someone caught, relieved that it’s them, not us!
But the Bible cautions us … and tells us stories about the great and the not so great, and the travails of life … no one has it easy … we can all stand against one another (that’s the easy choice), or we can stand with one another in the fellowship of grace.

Teaching an adult Bible one Sunday morning, I told the story of David and Bathsheba.
Before I finished, a class member slapped her hand hard onto the table and shouted, “Where did you get that filthy story about David?”

This is the kind of stuff we don’t learn in 5th grade Sunday School.
And that’s okay for 5th graders …
There’s plenty of stuff for children to learn … but what we learn in Sunday School is only a small part of the biggest story every told … stretching all the way from creation to the new heaven and the new earth … a story of greatness and sadness … the best and the brightest; the worst and the ugliest … all the thresholds we’ve crossed … and then some.

We all love little Davy defeating Goliath; but we need to pay attention to the whole story – even the nasty stuff.

The text begins simply enough, though with a clear wink of humor – it’s spring time – hehe …
When kings flex their muscles and set their eyes on fields of battle.
David is no different.
After a long drizzly winter, as the sun stretches broader on the horizon, the smell of wild flowers in the air, David says, Let’s go to war.

Does this make sense?
Of course not.
It’s not supposed to make any sense.

So off to war they go.
Not David, of course.
He’s too much of a king now.
He only gives the orders.
His generals go to war.
And the young men who do the fighting.
Does it ever change?

And late one afternoon – I love the image … when the sun is setting … everything golden … the magic hour if you have a camera in hand – every color brighter, richer … the end of the day … a stroll on the roof of the palace – a mighty man surveying his mighty city …

I wonder how often David strolled the ramparts.

I wonder, how often Bathsheba noticed the king … this powerful man … and what did Kissenger say, “power is an aphrodisiac”?

So David surveys his kingdom.
Maybe a little bored.
After all, his men are out looting and pillaging, ravaging the land … having all the fun, and David is stuck at home.

Lethargic, board … daydreaming …
Dozing all afternoon.
What’s a great and powerful king to do with so much time on his hands?
But lay around.
Take a nap.
A man of leisure.
Finally he rises …

I have this image … stretching, yawning, rubbing his eyes … What’s next? Solitaire? Maybe some dancers? Eat a little goat stew?

I know what I’ll do.
I’ll go to the roof …
Always something to see … who knows what I’ll see today.

In that fateful moment, in that rooftop stroll, he sees a woman bathing … leisurely, languorously, here an arm, there a leg … ah, look at the marvelous hair …
Anything more needed?
And maybe it could have ended there.
This man, after God’s own heart, might have just turned away.
But he’s a powerful man.
He sees what he wants, and he wants what he sees.
Who is she? He wonders.
Might she be available?

David sends someone to find out.
Powerful people do that.
Hey, servant-boy, run over to that neighboring house will ya? Find out who owns those arms and legs.

So the report comes back.
It’s Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam,
Wife of Uriah the Hittite.

It might have ended then and there.
But it didn’t.
Things like this rarely end when they should.

David doesn’t waste any time.
He sends for her.

And what’s a loyal subject to do, but accept the king’s invitation?
And it might have ended then and there.
But it didn’t.

The text gives the impression of royal prerogative.
No pleasantries.
Not courting.
No jokes.
Not even a drink.

The text is otherwise full of rich detail in the rest of the story, but not here.
No conversation, no caring, not a shred of tenderness.
No love … just desire.
Right into bed.
And when it’s done, it’s done.
She leaves.

Well, that’s that.
Or so we would hope.

But things like this are never neat and clean.
The word comes to David, I’m pregnant.

Those fateful words have changed human history a few times, haven’t they?

Now what?
Even a powerful king like David wants to cover things up.

So David sends orders to his commander, Send Uriah to me.

Uriah comes home from the front.
He and David engage in a little manly-man talk – about soldiering and looting and who was winning.

Uriah, you’re a good man.
Loyal soldier that you are.
Why don’t ya’ head on home for a little R & R with your wife, why don’t you wash your feet … wink, wink.
A couple of guys … some barroom banter …
“Wash your feet” – I think all of you can figure that one out – a euphemism for something a bit more … and maybe no one will raise the question of paternity.

But Uriah the Hittite, the foreigner, the mercenary, refuses.
How can I go home to enjoy the pleasures of life,
When my buddies are out in the field, taking risks,
Terrible risks …
For a war they didn’t make,
For a king they dearly love.
I can’t do that.

So Uriah camps out by David’s front door.

The next day, David invites Uriah in for a drink.
Just a couple of guys.
Just a few beers.
A little more banter, some bawdy jokes.
A few more beers.
Losen things up.
A few more beers.
Let’s get drunk.

But Uriah refuses to go home.
This guy can’t be bought for love or money!

The next morning, David writes a letter to his commander in the field – no words minced:
Put Uriah on point.
When the fighting gets rough,
Pull back; beat a hasty retreat.
Leave Uriah there; alone.
And he’ll be struck down and die.

This is a mean and nasty story about a powerful man who uses his power to get what he wants, destroying those who could blow his cover.
The kind of story we might well see on the evening news.

The kind of story we know all too well.

So what’s it doing in the Bible?
What’s the point?

Should we just shake our heads, cluck our tongues at such outrageous behavior.
Look down our nose and congratulate ourselves for “never having done anything like that”?
Or maybe we’re just glad we were never caught, or if we were, we breath a sigh of relief that we scraped through it like David did.

What’s the point? Why this wretched story about King David?

It’s life … life pure, plain and simple … when life isn’t pure, and never plain and hardly simple.
Who can choose life in bits and pieces?
Who can choose only the sunny side of the street?
Sometimes we walk on the dark side of things.
Ply our trade in the dark materials.
Sometimes we’re leading the way.
Sometimes we’re caught up in someone else’s maelstrom, like Uriah was …

The Bible tells us that life is life.
There are thresholds we’ve crossed we’re not proud of.
Stories we’d just as soon forget.
There’s no picking and choosing the chapters.

It’s just life.
In all of its glory and all of its grittiness.
Thick and thin.
Sick and sin.

The Bible reminds us:
No need to pretend.
And pretending has long been a part of the Christian story … from the tales of the saints to all of those glorious conversion stories told by TV evangelists.

But we all know it’s not true.
It’s just hard to wade through the hype.
The church in America is particularly susceptible to pretending.
Pews are full of people who could never tell their story, for fear of being thrown out on their ear, and they’re right. They’d be thrown out.
Conversionist Christianity has been particularly cruel at this point – “now that I have Jesus, it’s all sunshine and roses. I used to do and I used to be” … fill in the blanks with all the dirt and grime of life, the sin of the month, “but Jesus came into my life, and now my bad complexion cleared up, I got a million-dollar job, and I live in a fine home. All because of Jesus.”
Sure, I’m exaggerating.
But the point is this: American Christianity loves success and victory and power and overcoming and all things made new.
There is something to all of that, God be praised.
The Holy Spirit is real.
The love of Christ makes a difference.
A life soaked in the love of Christ, a life devoted to things of God, a life filled with faith, hope and love is a life categorically different than a life live in anger and greed, fear and lust, the relentless self-interest that only the Spirit of God can challenge and defeat in our lives.
But sin never goes away.
Life has its roses, but the bloom can quickly fad.
Life has its sunshine, but the night is just a stroke of the clock away.
Like the sea in Holland – the dikes and canals keep the water at bay, but the threat is always there.

Scripture reminds us:
God has saved us.
Again and again.
God builds all kinds of dikes and canals to keep the deluge away …
But everyone in Holland knows that a 100-year storm might do it … that a failure in all the complicated controls might do it … that the angry waters of the cold Atlantic might one day breech the defenses.

They know that.
So they’re prepared.
They’re vigilant.
They’re ready.
They’re on guard.

Maybe that’s the point.
Be mindful of your own soul.
Be careful and prayerful.

Jesus said it well:
Pay attention to the log in your own eye before you mess around with the speck in your neighbor’s eye.

Be kind to one another.
Because some of us are not running too swiftly.
Some of us are just limping along right now.

Maybe we’re the man beset by robbers and left for dead beside the road.
Maybe we’re the priest or Levite – good and decent folk, but unsure of getting involved …
And maybe we’re the good Samaritan today – our heart is full of kindness, and we do the right thing.

Maybe we’re David.
Maybe we’re Bathsheba.
Maybe we’re Uriah.
Maybe we’re the messenger.
Maybe we’re the commander.
Maybe all of them, and then some.

Good and bad, bad and good.
Moment by moment.

And through it all, grace.
God’s grace, twisting and turning the story for a better ending … like clay in a potter’s hand.
A remarkable God who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.
God never gives up on the human project.

And if God doesn’t give up,
Why should we?

Don’t give up hope.
Don’t stop trying.

Forgive big time – seven times seventy.
And for heaven’s sake, forgive yourself.

Don’t get caught up in pretending.
Life is tough enough.

Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another.
And you’ll be healed, says James.
Maybe he’s talking about honesty.
Plain old honesty.
Because honesty heals.

The Bible says:
Tell the truth.
And if the truth hurts, tell it carefully.
Maybe no one needs to know, but you … and God.
But tell the truth to yourself, for sure.
And let others tell the truth, too.
Life is tough enough for everyone.

Love welcomes the truth, even when the truth is sad!
That’s the heart of the story.
Love bears all things … Love never fails.

Amen and Amen.