Sunday, February 6, 2011

CHANGE ALONG 'THE WAY'

February 6, 2011
Epiphany 5
1st Corinthians 2:1-12
Matthew 5:13-20
(prayer)
Modern disciples of Jesus owe a debt of gratitude to Saul of Tarsus. He made a significant change in his life. His first reaction to members of the Jesus movement and their message was not positive. He was an active persecutor of the people of ‘The Way’ (as it was called). Saul had a change of mind and heart (a conversion) and went from persecutor to proclaimer. As a jew and a roman citizen he was well-versed in the traditions which surrounded Jesus’ ministry and the wider world context into which the message of Jesus was spreading. Saul’s evangelical emphasis was to share the good news of Jesus to the world: people beyond Judah and Galilee (to the gentiles). Symbolic of that, Saul began to use the greek version of his name: Paul.
The Apostle Paul is the direct author of at least seven of the letters (epistles) of the New Testament. Indirectly, his mission work and teachings influenced six other NT letters. Paul was pretty good in paper.
Yet he was the first to admit that he wasn’t necessarily the most dynamic preacher in the world. In fact, there are hints in some of the letters that other Christian leaders (for example, a man named: Apollos) had developed quite a following because of their ability to speak the gospel.
In the passage from the first Corinthian letter we heard today, Paul addresses that issue head on. He admits that speaking with lofty words is not his forte, but he notes that his weakness is countered by the strength of the Spirit of God and the power of the message of Jesus Christ. For Paul, it is the classic case of trying to make sure that substance wins out over style.
The Corinthian Christians to whom he is writing are a relatively established church at this time. The correspondence is part of Paul’s desire to take them deeper into issues of faith. Much of the letter seems to be in response to questions the Corinthians have asked Paul. In chapter two, we are seeing Paul lay the groundwork for those later discussions. We heard Paul taking about moving into a maturity of faith. Part of that journey is to begin with an admission that God is mysterious and that one of the realities of a life of faith is to try and grow into that mystery: to discover more and more about the gifts of the Spirit that are part of our lives.
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Changing gears a bit, let’s look at the imagery in Jesus’ words from Matthew, chapter five: salt, light, torah (law).
The metaphors are pretty straight forward, I think. Salt: a flavouring agent – it changes the experience by enhancing what is already there. It brings to mind a measure of purpose and control – too little and the impact will be negligible; too much and it hides what it is meant to enhance (not to mention unwanted side effects like high blood pressure, etc.)
Lamp light: its purpose is to shine; to illuminate a dark space. To cover up a lit lamp is to defeat its purpose.
Jesus is inviting the crowd (including us through the record of the gospels) to let the love and compassion of God be shown in what they/we do. Our work and actions can give glory to God as much as any words we might say. In fact, the old adage probably applies here: actions speak louder than words. That is certainly true when the actions are in opposition to the words. Jesus spoke more than once against hypocrisy.
Jesus wants his followers to enhance the life experiences of others. We are invited to constantly be renewing ourselves so that we can be fresh and exciting examples of God’s light in the word.
The ancient hearers of the parable may have gotten that last point easier that we might. We are used to refined salt that flows easily from salt shakers. Jesus uses the language of salt losing its saltiness. For us, salt is salt. Even old salt can still curl our toes if we put it on our tongue. But imagine the ancient world, where salt was sometimes harvested off beaches at low tide. Some salt-ladened sand would be tied up in a cloth. To salt a broth, that bag would be placed in the water and salt would leach into the mixture – similar to the way we use a tea bag. Eventually, the salt would be used up and the bag would only contain sand (the salt-bag had lost its saltiness). Relying on the old bag, past its prime, was not enhancing the experience of the meal at all. Jesus doesn’t want us to be complacent in our own vibrancy as people of faith. How can we ‘salt’ others if we ourselves have lost our own flavour.
Our purpose, Jesus seems to be saying is to let our vibrant, visible actions reflect an experience of God for people.
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By the time the gospel of Matthew is being written (some forty, forty-five years after Jesus’ lifetime), the early church was made up of a wide variety of people from various religious and cultural backgrounds. That is a stark difference to the life experience of Jesus, where he was immersed in his own Hebrew traditions. It is one of the strange realities of our Christian faith, that our founder, Jesus, himself, was not Christian. He was a Jew; raised and schooled in the pharisaic tradition. The late first century readers of Matthew’s gospel would have included people with no history with the Jewish Torah (the Hebrew law code for faithful living). In fact, even for the Jewish Christians in the time of the writing of the gospels, there were already tensions around their place within the synagogues: leading eventually to exclusion.
The author of Matthew is not so quick to turn away from the traditions of Jesus’ faith. More than any of the other gospels, Matthew works hard to connect Jesus to the Hebrew faith: to its laws and practices. I suspect that this would have been extremely welcoming to the Jewish Christians of the eighth decade of the first century.
[In a couple of weeks, we’ll read what Jesus thought about an overly simplistic and ultra-literal interpretation of the Law and how some actually felt justified in limiting their responsibilities to each other. That’s an important conversation, wait two weeks.]
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In our readings today, both Jesus and Paul seem concerned with ‘where’ we get our inspiration from. You may be familiar with the acronym GIGO [slide]. What’s it stand for? Garbage In – Garbage Out [slide].
Jesus and Paul both teach us today that our own grounding in the Spirit, our own saltiness (passion) for the gospel is key to the impact we can have on other. If we don’t start at a good point, how can we expect good results? [slide]
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So, it seems that is important for us to find ways to be grounded in the Spirit. This is true for each one of us, whether we have been a long-time follower of Jesus; or if this faith thing is a new exploration for us; And everyone in between!
Each of our individual journeys of faith has our entry point – that experience where we decided to venture a little deeper - for some, you may have had several such experiences.
 Maybe, you were invited to come with a friend to church (or you just wandered in on your own) and that experience got you thinking about issues of existence and faith.
 For others, perhaps you were drawn to the church for recognition of a significant time – a wedding, the death of someone you loved, the birth of a child, an illness and that experience got you thinking about issues of existence and faith.
 Still others, perhaps you were drawn to a social ministry of the church: you came to a church supper, or wanted to help out with the food co-op.
 Or maybe, you simply were motivated by a mysterious yearning that wouldn’t go away and you thought you might see if the church could help you explore that a bit.
However it has been for you, an entry point has brought you into a movement. That’s a good word because the ‘Jesus Movement’ pre-dates us all. When we jump on board, we are jumping on something that is moving – dynamic, evolving, maturing, changing...
If you have ever had the physical experience of stepping on to something that is moving (an escalator, a merry-go-round, an airport moving sidewalk), the first step can be a bit fearful. Faith can be kind of like that. Faith, by its very definition, involves mystery and the unknown. Fear and uncertainty are normal and expected!
Even once we settle ourselves within this vast and varied movement, we realize that faith is seldom static. In our journey of faith, we mix our yearnings, our experiences, our learnings and we develop beliefs: things that come from our tradition and things that come from our hearts (what feels right) and minds (what makes sense). This dynamism happens over time as we grow our faith.
Paul hints at using the life span of a person as a metaphor for faith. Faith can parallel a life – there is a childhood (where we are guided, where we know less that we sometimes desire); there is a time of learning, of education, of challenge and development; there are times of transition where we delve into the deeper questions and the dilemmas; where we question and rediscover, maybe even rebel; somewhere along the way, we may also discover a paradox of faith - that we are (at the same time) both student and teacher, both follower and leader; and for some, there can come a plateau of maturity, where mind, body and spirit seem reasonably balanced much of the time.
Of course a limitation of the metaphor is that this pattern may not be experienced linearly. We don’t always progress; sometimes, we digress (often for wonderful reasons); and we can get stuck, comfortable in our routines and what has worked for us before.
When that happens we might do well to remember what Jesus said about the need for fresh salt from time to time and the silliness of trying to cover up a lamp that might help us explore a new place.
I suppose a way to sum this up would be to say: that if we are to mature in our faith, we need to be open to change, to transition, to transformation. And that will involve working hard at keeping our faith, fresh.
A song I have enjoyed listening to lately speaks to me in this way. As we listen notice how the singer, invites us to risk moving out of our comfortable havens that might have served us at one time, but not to get stuck there. Think of the image of plaster – both in a medical cast and to adorn the walls of a house of faith.
Cast Off” by David Wilcox
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We don’t want to have a static faith: there is always more. We are salt and light. But in the wonderful double speak of faith, so is God. God is our illumination, our flavour, our source of excitement and purpose. We gain our strength to venture beyond where we are from God. God wants us to see room for growth and maturing. If comes from God, and in us, we serve God: another wonderful paradox of faith.
Maybe we can revisit the GIGO acronym [slide].
[slide]
Grace In – Grace Out!

God In - God Out!//
[slide]
We are ‘where’ we are, and that is a good thing. As we are able to tune into the Spirit, we begin to see the endless possibilities of where we might go from here; how we might offer the impact of our experience to others, so that the love of God is shared and known widely and lives are changed: including our own.
 
Let us pray;
Holy Source of Life;
Illumine our lives, so that we can be lights to the world. Flavour our experience, so that we can be salt of the earth. Be with us all along The Way. Amen.
**offering**

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