sermon notesA collection of resources, background information, and periodic reflections on the scripture readings in worship from Pr Josh Ehrler. Archives
July 2018
|
Back to Blog
Wanderlust in Matthew 16.21-288/30/2017 Our reflection is on Matthew 16.21-28
One of the fundamental rules that a new wilderness hiker learns is simple enough: when you are separated from others, stay where you are. Do not move around, do not try to find your way back, stay and you will be found. Wander and you’ll get lost. The fundamental symbol of our faith as Christians is the cross. Jesus tells us to stay near the cross. Peter, who speaks for all of us, wants to wander off. And for his want, he quickly gets lost. Matthew opens our reading with his comic book style transition, “from that time on,” implying that the tone of his book is changing in the next few verses. This is the first of four Passion announcements that Jesus makes in Matthew, each one more direct and tangible than the last (17.22-23; 20.17-19; 26.2). For the disciples, this is a relatively new topic of discussion, even if Jesus had implied this outcome back in chapter 10 (“sheep in the midst of wolves”-v.16, “do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul”-v.28). It is no surprise, then, that Peter leaps from his seat, pulls Jesus off to one side, and rebukes him. Besides this being a stark offense that a student would dare speak so sharply to his teacher, Jesus gives us the deeper issue of this exchange. Peter has revealed the devil in his heart and its reaching for Jesus. Though Jesus has confronted and cast out many demons already in Matthew, this time it’s different. This specific moment has happened before. Michael Joseph Brown, True to Our Native Land, takes us back to the wilderness of chapter 4 and suggests that Peter is a test of Jesus’ loyalty to God. The first test with the devil was to challenge Jesus’ identity as the Son of God. We know and the devil knows that Jesus is fully capable of going his own way, leaving the burdens of this world in the dust and caring for himself. In chapter 16, the same old thinking returns through our brother Peter, who is trying to get Jesus to wander away from the cross and protect himself. Jesus doesn’t really need to die on some Roman tool of death to bring forth the promise of the kingdom (p.107). What Peter is asking is what we’re all asking in our pews when we hear this: do we really need to pick up a cross to be with Jesus? For one, Jesus is Jesus. Not to be crass, but he has already died on the cross. He broke the bounds of life and death and grants us hope and Grace through his Resurrection. He has destroyed the power of sin and every force of this world that works against God. We are set free. We are a new Creation. We are one with Christ. And another thing, Jesus. Why a cross? Why not use those divine powers that God has poured into you to pour out your kingdom here and now? Jesus has been telling us in Matthew that “the kingdom of heaven is near.” And still, our neighbors suffer. Our friends are starving. Our African American brothers and sisters are persecuted, abused and declared unworthy of life in our streets. Powerful people are using their power to mightily crush God’s presence revealed through the presence of clerics and voices for hope. We do not need another martyr on a cross, Jesus, we need a savior. The temptation of the devil is in us all, convincing us daily to leave the cross and make our way back to safety. At least, what we define as safety. Daniel J Harrington, Sacra Pagina: The Gospel of Matthew, defines Jesus’ words about “the whole world” in terms we understand: financial, social, political and food security. Back to the wilderness of chapter 4, the temptations the devil throws at Jesus are as old as humanity and as fresh as our fears from the morning news (p.249). Jesus tells us that the cross gives us life. We, like Peter before us, are trying to convince Jesus of what that life is supposed to be. We keep trying to get away from the cross. It terrifies us. It speaks of violent ends and tragic outcomes and silence in the night. The cross is destruction and loss and the eradication of everything we know and everything our people know about us. The cross wipes the slate clean and casts us from the earth, never to be seen or heard again. The cross is final, there is nothing else. And this is the Grace we find in this weapon of human devastation. It is our end. The devil cannot cross over to life through the cross, it will always die by the nails. The sins of our humanity can never reach the kingdom of God, they will only be buried under stone and dirt. The assumptions of this world that we must protect ourselves are silenced by God’s Word, proclaimed through wood and steel and reverberated across every tree and stream. The abuse and violence of this world is hammered out, never to be known again. God is our source of life. God provides our every need. God is our protection and care, our end and our beginning. Dietrich Bonhoeffer speaks from the foot of the cross when reminds that it is the “beginning of our communion with Christ” (The Cost of Discipleship, p.89). The holy meal that binds us in worship does not come from the pantry, it is offered by Christ who has died at our hands and gives us his life for ours. Suffering through the cross is not an accident and it is not tragic, it is necessary. It is our call and our response to Christ, who leads us where we are needed (p.88). From the table, Christ takes us to the feet of our neighbors who are suffering, our friends who are lost and abandoned, our people who are denied hope for the color of their skin, the ways they love, the amount of money in their pockets. The cross bears the marks of our sin and the sign of our forgiveness. Jesus hands the cross to us and tells us that, if we want to bear his name, we must bear these marks ourselves for our people. Because, as Bonhoeffer writes, “the Church stands before God as the representative of the world” (p. 92). For the kingdom of heaven to be revealed, this world must come to an end. The cross is the only way to destroy suffering. There is never enough money, never enough power or military might, never enough intellect and innovation to silence and eradicate the sin rooted in our lives. We keep hoping that we can drift from the cross and find a more perfect way to save our people. With each new turn, we get lost and the despair only grows. Jesus finds us in the wilderness and calls out the devil within us, releasing us from our fears and returning us to the cross and life.
0 Comments
read more
Back to Blog
Faith, Not Skill in Matthew 14.22-338/8/2017 Our reflection is for Matthew 14.22-33.
The human body has a density of 0.98 compared to water, meaning we are designed to float. Not always well or with much style, yet our nature is created to bob on the surface of the water. Maybe Peter needed scientific knowledge more than faith and he would have made it. Our gospel may be one of the most famous, or at least one of the most utilized images, in human culture. Walking on water is a euphemism, it’s a command, it’s a denial of ability, and it creates 49 M hits on a Google search. This one phrase, and its derivatives, has been the title of countless books, movie posters and even this memorable hit from 80’s power ballad master, Eddie Money. Eddie Money asks the right question, “If I could walk on water would you believe in me? My love is so true.” However, his question is a little off angle from what Jesus might be attempting to reveal to the disciples. Jesus isn’t putting their faith to the test by conducting a parlor trick. Instead, he is asking them to remember his love for them and their love for him and that through this love, faith is revealed. Douglas RA Hare, Interpretation: Matthew, makes an interesting observation that the disciples out boating on the sea are “far from land and being tortured by the waves.” (p.169) This translation is harsher than most Bibles use, yet he’s working off the Greek word that is dynamic and implies more than mere hard work. Matthew uses the word three times in his gospel. The first is 8.6, where we hear a Roman soldier confront Jesus with a plea that his son be healed because he is “paralyzed, in terrible distress.” The second comes from a pair of demons Jesus finds in a cemetery at 8.29. They push back against him, begging to not be “tormented before the time.” All this is to note that the disciples are not simply tired, they are suffering. The storm that has come upon them is violent, thrashing, and unmanageable. They could very well drown because they are helpless. And because of that, Jesus leaves his private space of prayer and heads out on the storming waves. Hare wants us to consider the notion that Jesus, ever the Savior in Matthew’s gospel, is going toward them to reveal his love for them (p.169). This story takes a turn, however, that Mark and Luke do not, and Peter is given a key role. Quite possibly the role of his lifetime that could propel this story from Biblical lore to cultural mythology. Matthew tells us that Peter wants to try out water walking and Jesus invites him out. Though it’s tempting to hear Jesus’ response, “Come,” as a command, its not. Its closer to a statement of response. As in, “Go for it,” or “Let’s see how this goes.” At first glance, Matthew seems to put Peter’s failure to walk squarely on his shoulders, which makes Jesus’ question-after immediately rescuing Pete-“You of little faith, why did you doubt?” sound like a rebuke. That will happen between Jesus and Peter later, chapter 16 (the famous “Get behind me Satan” exchange) but this time he's not so harsh. Jesus has revealed a few moments earlier his love for his disciples despite their doubt. They’ve been wrestling with the limitations of God’s kingdom for most of their ministry with Jesus. Their colleague, John the Baptizer is dead. The powers of their world are beginning to rise up and confront them in public. They were not so sure there was enough bread and fish to feed a flash mob of 15,000. Now they’re getting nearly thrown out of their boat on seas they’ve otherwise known all their lives. Whether they voice it or Jesus is merely reading body language, he’s been responding to their questions and their frustrations and their doubt with his presence. He keeps showing up and sticking around. He keeps reaching his arm out toward them as they bounce and rock and hang on for dear life. He does not stop saving them. Peter was eager to be like Jesus and that didn’t work out so well. Because we’re not Jesus. We need Jesus to walk on water in the midst of our storms and come for us when we cannot get ourselves to shore. Jesus did not walk on water to impress them or turn them from disbelievers to determined disciples. They were already in the boat and in the crowds and by his side. They are slowly starting to recognize that he is more than a cool rabbi with awesome hair. As they proclaim for the first time in the gospel, they are beginning to recognize him as the “Son of God.” (14.33) With that, they will continue to notice the nearness of God and the movement of God’s kingdom through their lives, their community and the crowds they consistently encounter. Peter was never going to walk on water, and he was never going to drown, either. Besides the physics of density, Jesus was with him the entire time. Whether Pete could see Jesus as he is or simply as a ghost hovering nearby, Jesus’ action was not dependent on Peter’s vision. Jesus was going to grab him up out of the water and get him back in the boat. Jesus was going to silence the winds and calm the waves. Jesus already knew their helpless suffering and with his compassion deep, he went to them. Maybe there were no more boats on shore. Maybe the disciples needed to witness the power of God moving through Jesus. Maybe there was no time. Jesus walked on water out of love for his disciples. He continues to walk on water for you and me who are getting violently thrown about in our boats, unsure and feeling unsafe. He comes to us if we call and he shows up when we can’t. Doubt is a sign of being human. Faith is revealed through Christ’s love and compassion for us wherever we find ourselves. |