A revelation revolution
Luke 23: 33-43
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
November 20, 2016
The Christian church has
a problem; more specifically, the progressive Christian church has a
problem. Within the last 50 or so years
we’ve talked ourselves out of a faith in Christ. We say we follow Jesus rather than “Christ”,
the Greek word for messiah or “anointed one”.
We’ve allowed the name “Christian” to be defined and used almost
exclusively by the religious right and pejoratively by the media. The
Church doesn’t have the cultural or social justice capital it used to
have.
Wearing a cross has rarely meant that we Christians are safe people outside of our own small circle. We’ve taken the two
central events in the Christian faith, the crucifixion and the resurrection,
and turned them into memorial experiences—to remind us how we became Church rather than why we are Church.
Anglican bishop and
author N.T. Wright wrote, “[It] is very difficult for us…to get the balance
right between cross and resurrection. I
think the only way you can really do it is by making sure that whenever you
talk about the cross you remind yourself that we’re talking about the cross of
the one who was subsequently raised from the dead…”[i]
But
if we have no room in our post-modern minds for the resurrection, if Jesus
being raised from the dead is a stumbling block for us, why then would we ever
pick up the cross? Why would we ever
make sacrifices, take bold risks, go out on a limb for those on the margins,
for justice, for what others deem as hopeless?
Why would we ever need to be Church, if not for the transformation of
human lives, even our own?
A
transformed life, a saved life is one in which there is no room for hate or
fear; a life that is lived in service of others for the sake of joy; a life in
which the cross is carried not because of evidence or certainty of resurrection
but rather because of the hope and promise of resurrection. Before the end of his life Dietrich
Bonhoeffer wrote from a German prison, “What do we really believe? I mean, believe in such a way that our lives
depend on it?" What does it really
mean to be a Christian? Is it what we
believe or rather how we live? Do the
cross and the empty tomb take precedence in the way we live? What else is on the altar of our hearts and
minds?
As
our society becomes more secure and less violent, as we have unobstructed
access to food, clean water, education, jobs, housing, healthcare, as we are
reassured by our privilege, it has generally been observed that society becomes
more secular and our commitment to organized religion weakens. This is a broad stroke that can’t be taken
universally, but there is still truth in it.
In our secularization we can forget that at the heart of the world
religions is not only the common good but the welfare of the most vulnerable
among us, those whom Jesus called “the least of these”.
I
don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say our nation and the world have never
needed Church—people who live the cross and the resurrection—more than they do
now. Maybe we’re still reeling from
shock, but we can’t afford to when a white supremacist has been named the
president-elect’s chief strategist; when the internment of Japanese-Americans
is given as precedent for registering American Muslims; when hate crimes and
violent protests are our current modes of public discourse; when a climate
change denier is placed in charge of the transition for the EPA; when “draining
the swamp” really means swapping the deck chairs for life jackets on the
Titanic.
It
has been said that this election has revealed an ugly underbelly in our
national psyche, a capacity for invective and vitriol accompanied by harassment
and violence that resides in all of us.
It’s always been there but now it seems all bets are off, leaving many
of us more than anxious as to what the not-too-distant future will bring. For this we need not only a teacher, a guru,
a master, or even a brother and friend.
We need a savior.
But
some savior he is. Some messiah he
turned out to be. He can’t even save
himself from dying on the cross. The
cross is the inevitable, the non-negotiable of life. None of us are getting out of this alive. Not even Canada can save us from this. The cross looks like the losing side, like
failure, humiliation, and if we follow, we play the fools. The cross is too much risk. The cross asks too much of us.
For
many in this world and for some of us the cross doesn’t ask—it’s not a free choice. It is life and life’s circumstances thrust
and heaped upon us. It’s the choice of
the powerful over the choice of the powerless.
It’s prejudice and oppression and sex trafficking and generational
poverty and drug addiction and mass incarceration and stigma and shame—all for
the sake of profit.
All
of this has the makings of a revolution, as the divide between the powerful and
the powerless increases. And that’s
where the cross is, is in that divide, and that’s where the Church is called to
stand, and not only stand, but forgive, and not only forgive but reconcile, and
not only reconcile but heal, and not only heal, but restore justice, and not
only restore justice but bring wholeness, resurrection. It is for such as time as this that the
Church needs to reveal who it truly is, that Christians names themselves not
only friends of Jesus, but as those whose lives have been transformed and
continue to be engaged by the cross and by the resurrection.
Pastor
and blogger John Pavlovitz wrote a piece in October about the kind of Christian
he refuses to be. Instead he wants to be
a Christian that is humble and forgiving.
A Christian that has a heart to serve and to bring healing. A Christian that is compassionate and
merciful and generous. A Christian that
turns the other cheek, loves one’s enemies, takes the lower place, loves one’s
neighbor as oneself. A Christian who
goes where the poor and the marginalized and the hurting and the forgotten
are. A Christian who makes a gracious space for
those who worship differently. A
Christian who lives by expectation-defying grace and counterintuitive love[ii]—all
of which and more made Jesus a criminal, an enemy of the state and led him to
the cross, and yet it did not take away his fervent hope of the resurrection.
And
it is this kind of revolution, this revelation that is worth our
investment. In the Church we say time,
talent, and treasure. We say it that way
because what Jesus is asking for is even more than that. Are we willing to invest our lives for the
sake of the Beloved Community? Are we
the Church willing to reveal what it really means to be a Christian, to follow
Christ where Christ leads?
For
the past three years, David and I have pledged separately, in that each of us decided
what we would give and then paid our own pledge. This year we are pledging together. We discussed what we would give and then I
asked David if it was okay with him if I shared with all of you what our pledge
will be. I do this because first, I’m your
pastor and one of our leaders. Second, I
believe in transparency. And third, I do
this not to boast but to inspire you, not to embarrass or shame you. I know we all have our own struggles about
money and church and have differing abilities when it comes to giving. I respect that. And yet I believe the Church is facing yet
another challenge to its mission of the cross and the resurrection. It’s time to reveal who we really are as
Christians.
For
2017 David and I will be pledging $12,000.
We can do this only because you are faithful in compensating your
pastor. We can do this only because
David is employed at the level he is. We
can do this only because of certain choices we make. We do this because giving is a spiritual
discipline, like worship and prayer and study and mission; because we believe
the Church is one of the best hopes we have for standing in that breach between
the powerful and the powerless; because we have witnessed the power of the
cross and the power of the resurrection in places like Oaxaca, Mexico and the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation and Pipestem, WV, and in churches that are
Open and Affirming like this one, and in interfaith relationships, and at Hope Dining Room
and Code Purple and Habitat for Humanity, and in the wider United Church ofChrist.
The
Church more often than not resembles the losing team. The world judges the cross as failure and
resurrection looks like a pipe dream. And yet: “For those who want to save their
life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake
of the gospel, will save it”, and it is precisely in this way that Jesus Christ
is savior and Lord. And it is this kind of
love that the world needs most right now, in you and in me. Jackson Browne says it this way:
And though
the earth may tremble and cast our works aside
And though our efforts resemble the fluctuating tide
We rise and fall with the trust and belief
That love redeems us each
And bend our backs and hearts together standing in the breach
You don't know why it's such a far cry
From the world this world could be
You don't know why but you still try
For the world you wish to see
You don't know how it will happen now
After all that's come undone
But you know the change the world needs now
Is there, in everyone
And though our efforts resemble the fluctuating tide
We rise and fall with the trust and belief
That love redeems us each
And bend our backs and hearts together standing in the breach
You don't know why it's such a far cry
From the world this world could be
You don't know why but you still try
For the world you wish to see
You don't know how it will happen now
After all that's come undone
But you know the change the world needs now
Is there, in everyone
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