A Sermon For The Fourth Sunday After Pentecost

Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

Bible readings: Galatians 6:1-16, Luke 10:1-20

I By My Works Will Show You My Faith

(Just Tell Them That Your Church Does “Disaster Relief Ministry”!)

I have a confession to begin this sermon: Martin Luther would not be happy with my sermon title. “I by my works will show you my faith.” Do you recognize the source of those words? They come from the Letter of James in the Bible. Martin Luther called the Letter of James the “epistle of straw.” Not a glowing review! His concern with James was that it bordered on works righteousness, not on grace by faith. James wrote, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you?” Uhh…Martin Luther would say, “Absolutely, James! Faith alone saves us. Not works.” Maybe by the end of this sermon, with some contextual unpacking, I can get myself back on Brother Martin’s good side!

For reasons that I will share with you, I have been thinking about one of the most painful times in all my years of ministry. It was 2009, a year of controversy and tumult for the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. At the Churchwide Assembly that year – our highest governing body – we approved a social statement titled Human Sexuality: Gift and Trust. Some of you may remember the firestorm that followed. It was a comprehensive social statement dealing with a variety of subjects: marriage, family, sexuality, relationships, dignity, trust, community, and neighbor love. Unfortunately, all of the focus in the public square was on same-gender relationships, gay marriage, and the ordination of gay clergy. The national media created a frenzy for our Church.

The social statement acknowledged that we were not all of one mind on this subject and it left room for each of us to hold to our bound convictions. Nevertheless, the ELCA lost a splinter group of five percent of our congregations and members. In my congregation in Cincinnati, I had members who said they would leave our church if the vote was “no” and other members who said they would leave if the vote was “yes.” And they did leave. As I recall, we lost about seven families. It was painful. I loved all of them.

Further pain for me was that I had a retired Missouri Synod pastor who was helping me because the ministry of that church had outgrown my ability to pastor it with care. He was a good preacher, sound theologian, personable, well-liked, and was living out his call in retirement as I am now with Trinity. After the decision on the social statement, he said that he could not find biblical support for it and had to disassociate with our church.

There was even greater pain for me; the pain that my members experienced. Many of my members told me that they did not know how to explain the decision to their family, friends, neighbors, and co-workers who thought that our Church had gone apostate. Do you know that word, apostate? It means to abandon one’s faith. Despite years of study, my members were not equipped to respond to the challenges and criticism. I had a whole shelf of resources in my library – videos, books, and study guides, but none of them would have satisfied or convinced the critics of the basis of the decisions. And I understood the criticism – after all, our Church was overturning two thousand years or orthodox Christian tradition and teaching.

My members felt shamed by their loved ones. That which was of utmost importance to them – their faith in God – was being challenged as heresy! They were the sheep…and as shepherd of the flock, I was invested in their pain!

Do any of you remember that history and can you resonate with it?... I don’t think that my congregation and members’ pain were unique. I suspect that at some level Trinity also experienced that pain…and it continues. I still meet or know people who do not understand how our Church can perform gay marriages and ordain gay clergy. It is painful when you are misunderstood about something so intimate as your faith! In 2009, I spent a lot of time praying about how I could provide pastoral counsel and comfort to my members amid controversy, shame, and pain. Eventually, the Spirit showed me a way.

I counseled my members that when somebody challenged their faith and criticized our Church they should just tell them that our church goes on “disaster relief trips.”… Note the air quotes, our church does “disaster relief ministry.” By 2009, my congregation in Cincinnati had already made five trips to New Orleans. Everybody remembered the horror of Hurricane Katrina. Everybody respected that our church rebuilt homes and church buildings, that we sat alongside people who had suffered great loss, that we prayed with them, that we shared the love of Christ with them, and that we gave them hope because they knew that somebody cared about them when it felt like their government and their local leaders had abandoned them. Everybody is intrigued, dare I say even impressed with people who do disaster relief work. No matter your political affiliation, your race, your dwelling place – city, suburb, rural - your culture, your religion or your lack of religion, everybody supports disaster relief ministry!

Tell the critics that your church does “disaster relief ministry.” That is my code word for mission and loving the neighbor. Maybe it looks like feeding hungry people, or confronting racism, or hosting Vacation Bible School, or welcoming immigrants. I counseled my members to talk about our church’s mission.

That response would stop the critics in their tracks because too many of them belonged to churches that were confined inside of the four walls of their building on Sunday morning and lobbed “religious hand grenades” at others, telling them what they must believe…while practicing nothing! Weaponizing and thumping their Bibles…while excluding those who didn’t believe exactly what they did. It is ironic that people outside of the Church recognize the hypocrisy of that kind of judgmentalism!

I by my works will show you my faith. After decades of reflection, it occurs to me that the Bible can be interpreted in two ways; as a rule book or as a role book. Those who criticized the ELCA were part of rule-book legalism – right thinking. I believe that the Bible is essentially a role book – teaching us how to live, how to emulate Jesus, and how to be a disciple; right living…modeling the Kingdom of God. (see below) My mentor, the great scholar, Walter Brueggemann was fond of saying that the Church, regrettably, often “majors in minors.” For example, making the Bible a rule book.

St. Paul travelled throughout the region of Galatia, Asia Minor, proclaiming the good news of Jesus. When he left the area, opponents that scholars call “the Judaizers,” came along and told the Galatians that they had to be circumcised and live by the Jewish law before they could become Christians. Paul was anti-legalism and pro-grace. He emphatically reminded the Galatians of how to live by faith, the verses that are bolded in your worship folder: “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ…So let us not grow weary in doing what is right…Work for the good of all.”… Tell them that your church does “disaster relief ministry.”

Disaster relief ministry is code for mission. I appreciate these posters from our Church Council which give light to our most recent mission efforts. I appreciate how we are doing mission locally, nationally, and globally…and that our mission is growing!

I also want you to be aware that as a denominational church, we are part of a much larger mission. After a small revolution, the Living Lutheran magazine is now back in print. We are part of a Church that has mission in virtually every corner of the world. Think about it; when you put your offering in the plate (or give electronically) each Sunday, you are sharing the gospel and funding neighbor love throughout the world!

Our disaster relief trip to Tennessee was very rich. There were many God moments. You might read the reflection at the end of the worship folder (see below) to get a taste of what I am talking about. The quote posits that there may not be a word in the English vocabulary to describe the emotions of disaster relief ministry.

Our team will share the experience in worship on July 20. You will want to be present! I encourage you to invite everybody that you know. For our members who could not journey to Tennessee, this is how you can participate in the trip from home. This should be an easy ask for Lutherans because twenty years after Katrina, everybody is still interested in disaster relief work. I’m not interested in converting your friends in other churches to Lutheranism. I am interested in inspiring them. They can do this work too! Invite them on July 20. As for your unchurched friends, I want them to know this is what discipleship means. My vision is that every seat in this sanctuary will be filled two weeks from now. Not for our glory, but for the glory of God! Jesus sent them out as disciples, mission-aries. That practice is integral to our faith.

As for that Missouri Synod pastor who was assisting me. It has been sixteen years since 2009. He is now frail, limited, and seeking Word and Sacrament as a priority over the implications of a social statement. He and his wife are worshiping at my former congregation!

As for Luther, he didn’t like the Letter of James because it smacked of works righteousness. But he was fond of a saying of Jesus, “a good tree produces good fruit.” (Move passed the posters) Good Tree, Good Fruit. Trinity Lutheran Church, we by our works are showing the world our faith. Your church goes on “disaster relief trips.” Come and hear about it on July 20…and bring a friend! Amen.

Further readings:

Do the Math

We hear Jesus say “Follow me” eighty-seven times in the four Gospels. How many times does he say, Worship me? Zero. Name a religion after me? Zero Recite a creed about me? Zero. Erect buildings in my name? Zero. That’s not to say these things are wrong, but succeeding at them without actually forming followers of Christ is like climbing a ladder that’s leaning against the wrong building.

Similarly, the word disciple appears in the New Testament more than 250 times, while Christian appears three times, and Christianity, zero.

Imagine what would happen if for the next five hundred years, our churches put as much energy into the formation of generous, Christlike disciples as we have put into getting people to believe certain things or show up at certain buildings or observe certain taboos or support certain political or economic ideologies or keep certain buildings open and people gainfully employed…. Imagine!

Brian D. McLaren, The Great Spiritual Migration, Convergent Books © 2016.

Falling Together

When that (San Francisco Bay Area) earthquake shook the central California coast on October 17, 1989, I was surprised to find that the person I was angry at no longer mattered. The anger had evaporated along with everything else abstract and remote, and I was thrown into an intensely absorbing present. I was more surprised to realize that most of the people I knew and met in the Bay Area were also enjoying immensely the disaster that shut down much of the region for several days, the Bay Bridge for months, and certain unloved elevated freeways forever – if enjoyment is the right word for that sense of immersion in the moment and solidarity with others caused by the rupture in everyday life, an emotion graver than happiness but deeply positive. We don’t even have a language for this emotion, in which the wonderful comes wrapped in the terrible, joy in sorrow, courage in fear. We cannot welcome disaster, but we can value the response, both practical and psychological.

For weeks after the big earthquake of 1989, friendship and love counted for a lot, long-term plans and old anxieties for very little. Life was situated in the here and now, and many inessentials had been pared away. The earthquake was unnerving, as were the aftershocks that continued for months. Most of us were at least a little on edge, but many of us were enriched rather than impoverished, overall, at least emotionally. A more somber version of that strange pleasure in disaster emerged after September 11, 2001, when many Americans seemed stirred, moved, and motivated by the newfound sense of urgency, purpose, solidarity, and danger they had encountered. They abhorred what had happened, but they clearly relished who they briefly became.

Rebecca Solnit, A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster, Viking, © 2009.