Isaiah 25.6-10; Mark 2.13-22
Russ Dean, January 29, 2012

Several years ago, a friend introduced me to Phyllis Tickle’s book, The Great Emergence, and I have been thoroughly convinced. Every 500 years, Tickle says, the world gets a face lift. Political, economic, social, and ecclesiastical systems, for reasons unknown, experience gale force winds – and these disparate forces come together in a period of upheaval that inevitably feels apocalyptic. It isn’t the end – or at least none of the previous “great emergences” has been – the world and the Church will weather the storm, but not before giving birth to systems and world views and philosophies heretofore undreamed of.

There was Jesus – and the Christianity that changed the world. Half a millennium later the Roman Empire crumbled, and in another 500 years Roman Catholicism was born out of Eastern Orthodoxy. (Or Orthodoxy was born out of the mother church in Rome. It depends on whom you ask!) Five centuries later Martin Luther nailed a letter of complaint on a church door in Germany and the Protestant Reformation began. And according to Phyllis Tickle the winds of change are blowing again. We have felt those winds, in a housing collapse at home and financial meltdown abroad, an Arab spring offering democracy throughout the middle east and a Church in global crisis – not from Islamic terrorists but from another division within, namely, a separation over how to read the Bible. A host of social questions issue into what has been called “the culture wars,” but you can caricature that division on the face of two issues: abortion and gay marriage. These two issues are representative of a divide, perhaps irreconcilably deep. Perhaps a new Christianity will emerge as a result. A “Great Emergence,” the next sequel.

But last week at Sir Edmund Halley’s English pub, Dr. Gerardo Marti, a sociologist from Davidson College who specializes in American Religion, told a table full of inquisitive Baptists that Tickle’s theory is, well… bunk. Devoid of substance. “No way,” he said. That’s an artificial construct that she made up to sell books. (He loves Phyllis Tickle, he insists – “You just want to take her home… she’s so nice!” He just doesn’t agree that God swoops in every half-millennium, like clockwork, to roll out the next chapter of the world’s history.)

The sociologist – who is a great, great, great nephew of the Cuban revolutionary hero, Jose Marti – may be right. Maybe in every age… in any century or decade or year… at any given moment, in any given place… a revolution of some kind is taking place. Gerardo said if you did your homework you could find “great emergences” at any interval you looked.

Either way – and the good professor agreed – the Church is in the midst of upheaval. The winds of controversy are blowing – just as they were in Jesus’ day. And if Jesus were here today, I think he might handle it like he did in his day. He might say to his disciples, “Let’s have a drink and talk it over!” And just like in his day, the properly religious would have sighed in righteous indignation. No, I’m not trying to be crass. I don’t want to glamorize alcohol as our culture does. We have too many alcohol-related problems as it is. But as I look at the life of Jesus, where he taught, how he entertained, with whom he associated, why he drew such attention from the religious crowd… It is not out of character to suggest that if he were here, Jesus might be a frequent guest across the street at Sir Ed’s – always with a crowd of ears. A crowd of rag-tag disciples, eager to learn.

We live in a confusing and frustrating time. There are tensions threatening every corner of peace. We do seem to be in a particularly fragile moment, with so much to worry us, from so many angles. But Dr. Marti is obviously right: about what point in human history, could this not be said? So the 21st century followers of Jesus ought to ask, as did his first ones: How did Jesus
respond to crisis? How did he lead? How would he lead us?

I think Jesus would lead us, again, to an upper room. Maybe a second-floor hall at an old, uptown hotel. If the biblical narratives are accurate, there would be good food, and there would be good drink. There would be a gathering of friends, and there would be spirited conversation all around. If you elbowed your way through that scene, you might overhear only snippets of the dialogue: “And she said, ‘One time… and you called a therapist!?’” And you would hear raucous laughter erupt – at least from the corner where the Baptists were sitting.

If it sounds to your ears like my theoretical, “if Jesus were here,” just spilled over into reality… you would be right. I’d been reading Isaiah and Mark, and thinking about Jesus sitting with unexpected people and gathering in unexpected places – those places where preachers shouldn’t be seen on a Saturday night. So as Amy and I walked into the Dunhill Hotel in uptown Charlotte last night, I knew I was walking into a sermon illustration! Jesus said the kingdom of

God is like… a wedding banquet! He said this because this is what they told him. His parents. Those men at the Temple who became his teachers while mother Mother Mary looked frantically for her boy. His rabbi said so. And his mentor, John the Baptist. Jesus said, “With what shall the Kingdom of God be compared?” (see Luke 13.18) And they all answered, in turn, but in unison, “The Prophet Isaiah said there will be a great banquet…”

This idea flourished in first-century Judaism. It became known as the Messianic Banquet, the Great Feast. It was often compared to the exuberant celebration after a wedding! And it came to bear eschatological overtones – one day, that day, in that “great, getting’ up morning,” as the Black preacher might say it, God will set the table for us. God will spread the feast before us. God will fellowship with us. On the Mount of Zion, the place of the Holy City, the site of the Temple, on that day, the food will be sumptuous and the wine will run free. The idea wasn’t new to Jesus’ contemporaries. They had heard the scroll of Isaiah read just as he had. And they were waiting for that day. So real was the thirst for this Day of the Lord, and all that it would bring, that their tongues watered. The idea wasn’t new. The imagery of this feast had fed the appetite of ancient Israel for more than 500 years. What was new… and what most weren’t prepared for (how could they not have been prepared after 500 years!?)… What they weren’t ready for was for someone, someone who looked just like them, to sit among them and say: This is it! This is the banquet. This is the celebration. This is the Kingdom of God. Right here. With Erin and Brett. At the Dunhill!

In a world of hurt. In a season of anxiety. In times that caused many to look to the sky with anxious eyes, Jesus called a band of unconventional followers to lead an unconventional movement. While so many others fretted themselves over keeping the conventional rules, learning the conventional wisdom, Jesus said… the Kingdom of God is at hand… Let’s
Celebrate! In her commentary on the text, Pheme Perkins says, “Jesus defends [his actions] by insisting that the conventional rules do not apply.” We would do well today to follow his unconventional lead.

Our world no less than Jesus’ world, is filled with anxiety. Wars-without-end and an economy which can’t find a beginning and a fractured, broken government and a planet perhaps tottering on the brink of ecological melt-down and religious incivilities between, you know, the religious elites and the narrow-minded fundamentalists. What should we do? Jesus said we ought
to celebrate. Invite some friends over. Splurge for the filet mignon. Break out an extra bottle.

This won’t make the problems go away. And the idea isn’t to bury our heads in the sand and pretend everything is hunky-dory. But worry will get us nowhere. Jesus said that, too. In this perpetually anxious world, learning to celebrate a little more freely may be just what we need to feed in us an image of what can be. Maybe sharing in a kingdom that looks like a wedding party will help convince us that this is the reality God intends – not just for some eschatological “one day.” But for today. Not superficial happiness. Certainly not drunken carousing. But sharing in God’s kingdom, already among us, can teach us of abundance… lavish generosity… the medicine of laughter.

And learning to celebrate may also feed our courage to be unconventional, which is needed in our anxious times just as much as it was needed to shake up Jesus’ uptight world. A British pastor named William Russell Maltby boiled discipleship down to three things: Fearlessness. Happiness. Trouble! “Jesus promised his disciples… that they would be entirely fearless.” Being convinced that God is with us, that the Kingdom has already arrived, should do that. As the Psalmist said, If God is with us… who can be against us!? (Romans 8.31) What are you afraid of? Why?

Being a disciple of Jesus also means being “absurdly happy.” Absurdly – because the fears and anxieties are real. Happy – because faith is real, too… and faith will not disappoint us (Romans 5.5), because it is built on hope. Hence the celebration. Are you happy? Really happy? Why not?

Being a disciple of Jesus also means “getting into trouble.” Too many of Jesus so-called followers have none of these characteristics. Too much of the Church is characterized by great fear. Fear of illegal immigrants and Islamic terrorists and activist judges and the homosexual agenda and liberal education. Too much of the Church still fears God. I don’t mean respects or reveres God, I mean that too much of the Church’s theology is still based on the fear of divine power, not on the joy of divine love.

Too many of Jesus so-called followers express no obvious contentment with life. No deep happiness. No intrinsic joy. Too much of the Church’s theology has convinced Christians that this life is about struggle and sacrifice – that joy is just for heaven. Or, as Dr. Ken Chafin once said it, “Too many Christians are ready to die, but aren’t ready to live yet.” Maybe Kool and the Gang had it right, after all, when they said in that 1980’s dance song, “There’s a party going on ‘round here. A celebration to last throughout the year.” (I asked Anne if she could find a nice arrangement of that for our choir, and we looked for something in maybe a baroque setting, but came up empty-handed!) There are struggles. Sacrifice will be required. But those should deepen our joy, not take it from us. If Christian truth is any truth at all, it will teach us that God is With us. And if this does nothing else for us, it should give us a sense of deep and abiding joy – come what may in this world.

And too many of Jesus followers have no idea what it means to “get in trouble” with Jesus – which may just mean that many aren’t really “followers” at all. Jesus was fearless, and he was happy, and he certainly stirred up a lot of trouble. Some things never change in this world, and the longing for easy answers through conventional wisdom is one of them. But “conventional rules” have never moved our world forward. It has always taken visionaries, revolutionaries, dedicated disciples, committed to unconventional truth to do that. Are you stirring up trouble? I hope so!

What your anxious world might actually need most, ironically, paradoxically, may be a little stirring up. Maybe you need to express your concern about the growing disparity between the rich and the poor in this country. The haves and the have-nots. May be you need to stake your claim where Jesus staked his – with the least of these among us (Matthew 25). This may not be welcome language in the break room of the office, but Jesus said, “Follow me.”

Maybe you need to speak out against an amendment that will come to referendum in May, which would further alienate homosexuals in our families and churches and communities, put children at risk, and re-introduce discrimination by law into a state which has already known this injustice, an amendment which would ask the State to defend the Church. Maybe you need to reaffirm your Baptist values by standing against all of those possible outcomes.

There are plenty of places to stir up a little trouble in this world which has always longed for the false peace of convenient wisdom. The paradoxical truth of Jesus’ Way is that only unconventional wisdom and unrestrained courage will bring unconditional unconditional shalom. Real peace.

It will take new wine – and new wine skins. New ways of thinking and acting and being Christian in a world that is ever-evolving. And this is as it should be, for scripture reminds us: God is [always] doing a new thing (Isaiah 43.19).

I don’t know where you need to speak. When, exactly you need to a stand. How, specifically, you need to respond. But I do know why. The world needed the uncomfortable challenge Jesus brought – and it needs yours – because we don’t know what kind of world is emerging right before our eyes. But the example of Jesus would instruct his disciples not to ride the tide, fearful of where it is taking us – but to lead by following his unconventional Way.

And all along the way, let us celebrate, for God is with us.

May it be so!

Note: We are still in the process of uploading our Sermon Archives. If you would like a specific sermon that is not currently on the web site, please e-mail Russ.

Deuteronomy 8.1-3, 6.16-18; Psalm 91.1-3, 11-12; Luke 4.1-15
Russ Dean, January 22, 2012

Preaching is not an easy task. I continue to be daunted by it, even after more than 300 sermons, more than 1,500 manuscript pages in print. Apparently experience doesn’t help! I love it more and more but continue to be overwhelmed by the responsibility, and humbled by the fact that you listen – as if I have anything to say that might in any way be regarded as a word worth listening to – much less a word from God. I continue to struggle – as anyone who takes the task seriously does – in how to preach with intellectual integrity, with scriptural fidelity, with spiritual and faithful clarity. And I’ll have to just be perfectly honest and tell you that while I have absolutely no ego need to preach to tens of thousands, or even to be the pastor of one of our local mega-popular, mega-churches, I do think a good bit about my task – in competitive terms! Why is it that Joel Olsteen fills up a coliseum week after week, preaching what virtually all of his commentators (fans and his critics alike), call feel-good messages and self-help motivation? And why is it that after more than a decade we’ve still got plenty of growing room?

I’m never an uninterested by-stander when the subject of “my church” comes up in conversation. Those words always perk my ears a bit, and as I listen to people comment about their church, a word that is frequently mentioned as the highest of accolades is “relevant.” As in, “His sermons (almost always it’s ‘his’) are so… relevant.”

I guess that’s a compliment. Good sermons can be part of a life of disciplined faith, and disciplined faith ought to help us live in the real world. But “relevant” means, by definition, “bearing upon or connected with the matter at hand,” and Jesus said the “matter at hand,” that good news which he came preaching, was the already-but-not-yet Kingdom of God (see Mark 1.14-15). Fundamentally, being relevant means being oriented to the world and what is important in the world – but Jesus could hardly have cared less about the world and what is important in it. Jesus’ life was not oriented to the world. It was oriented to God. Jesus’ ethic was not relevant to the Pax Romana, the “Peace of Rome,” which dominated and oppressed Israel for all of his lifetime. Jesus’ spirituality was not even relevant to the religion with which he was identified. “Bearing up [and being] connected with…” God, and God alone, made Jesus about as irrelevant as you can get.

Now, you’d think that the powers that be, the people who run the relevant world, would leave you alone if you’re not… but there’s something disturbingly disquieting about being fundamentally connected to an entirely different set of values, being oriented to an entirely different world-view. No… rather than leaving you alone, being irrelevant might just get you killed.

He was a priest who became a noted scholar, and he spent twenty years in the halls of academia, holding positions at Notre Dame and Yale and Harvard. He was connected. He was respected. He was in touch. He had played by the rules of the game, and he had made it to the top of his profession. He was relevant. And he was miserable.

By an unpredicted set of circumstances, after years of relevant work, in a relevant world, working with some of this country’s best and brightest students, and engaged in the challenging but fulfilling work of academia, Henri Nouwen found himself the priest of a community called “Daybreak.” He would spend the rest of his years as a pastor, living and working in this institution, which was a home for the severely disabled. It was a re-orienting life. None of the residents had ever heard of Professor Nouwen. They could not read any of his academic texts – nor even comprehend their themes, in his field of psychology. What a change of pace it must have been to have left the revered halls of Harvard University and entered the halls of Daybreak, where the smells and sounds and conversations were completely different. At lunch one day, as Nouwen was serving the meal, he offered the meat to one of the residents, when across the table another member of this disabled community piped up, “Don’t give him meat. He can’t eat meat. He’s a Presbyterian!”

What a waste of a life. Day after day, in conversation with people who don’t know the difference in vegetarians and Presbyterians – some who hardly even know they’re in the world. Cleaning up after their messes. Feeding them. Tolerating their outbursts. I can’t imagine anything more irrelevant. But Henri Nouwen says he found his soul at Daybreak. Because he didn’t have to be relevant anymore. He just had to be real.

Nouwen sas the temptation of Jesus was the temptation to relevance. And Jesus rejected it. Just as Professor, Dr. Henri Nouwen found the soul he had lost in a rat-race world of getting to the top, when he gave himself to life through the most mundane tasks of serving broken humanity, Jesus also came to know his identity in saying no to the lure of relevance.

Can you imagine anything better than being able to turn stones to bread? In two-and-ahalf hours one night over Christmas, 200 of us prepared 50,164 meals which were shipped to Ghana, Africa. An amazing feat, when you think of it – 50,000 meals for hungry children. But what if you could just walk along and pick up rocks, and when you put them in someone’s
hungry hand, it became rye or dill or pumpernickel? Imagine that… with that sort of magic, we could feed the whole world.

What Jesus apparently knew, though, is that we do not need magic to feed the world. According to the good folks at Stop Hunger Now, there is enough food in the world, right now, to give every person who is alive four pounds of food – a day! What we need isn’t the magic of turning stones to bread, we need the miracle of turning hearts of stone, as the Prophet Jeremiah said, into hearts of flesh. And it is the conviction of faith that no amount of relevance can do that for us. Only our connection to the source of all that is good and true – only a life oriented to God, not one that is relevant in the eyes of the world. Only God can make us truly human.

Jesus had no magic in his hands. My professor of systematic theology at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary shocked his class one day by teaching us that Jesus could not, in fact, have turned the stoned to bread – even had he tried. As soon as he would have reached toward the ground, said Dr. Tupper, he would have ceased to be, from all time, the One Christians affirm him to be: the One and Only. As soon as he had given in to the temptation, the power of magic would have left him. The power that has never left him is the power to change lives. And one stone cold heart after another, he does that, still. As we turn from relevance to relationship, from power to people, from convenience to conviction – the power of miracle, not the power of magic, comes in our hands, too.

“Turn these stones to bread” – Jesus knew the temptation of relevance. “Throw yourself down… the angels will save you” – Jesus knew the temptation to do something spectacular. “All these worlds I will give you” – Jesus knew the temptation to claim power and wealth. We have known these temptations, too. But if magic and spectacle and power were not Jesus’ for the taking – then neither are they ours.

But you would never know it by listening to some people pray, would you? And you certainly cannot hear it by listening to some who preach. Those temptations continue to come, regularly, from some of the loudest pulpits in the land. “God want to bless you,” they say – and by that they continue to feed the masses on the hysteria of the quick fix, the magic… stones to bread… intervening angels… worlds and wealth. Too many pulpits around the land continue to offer the blessing of God – in the world’s terms: health and wealth and prosperity and power and fame and fortune. All of which will make you relevant in our world.

None of which will make you human.

Nouwen says,

[Living at Daybreak] forced me to rediscover my true identity. These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self – the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things – and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I am completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments.

I hope you don’t tell anyone this week that your pastors preach sermons that are relevant. I hope you will tell someone about your church, and I hope you will tell them that at your church we preach sermons that are faithful. And my prayer for you and for me and for this community of faith that I dearly love is that we will hear the call of God in Jesus Christ, amid all the voices of temptation, and that we will hold so steadfast to the Good News of Jesus’ completely irrelevant truth, that with his example as our guide, we might just change the world.

May it be so!

Note: We are still in the process of uploading our Sermon Archives. If you would like a specific sermon that is not currently on the web site, please e-mail Russ.

Friday, January 13, 2012

I have spent the morning answering several more letters regarding the Lowe’s issue. I thought I’d post this reponse, to “John.” He wrote, accusing me of ignoring all the violence and rape and murder of Muslims around the world and, strangely, of failing to express “concern at the cointnued assualts on the simple expression of ‘Merry Chrstmas.’” (Where did that come from?) Here’s my response…

Dear “John,”

I am sorry that I am just now responding to your letter of December 20. Christmas is a busy season for us, and I am just now digging out. Despite the condescending tone of your letter, it was a Merry Christmas, and I trust yours was as well. I wished many Merry Christmases this season, as I do every season.

I have read and re-read your letter, and I don’t honestly know how to respond, yet I appreciate you taking the time to write and wanted to respond in kind. Respectful discourse is a key to our society’s success, and I trust you will receive my letter in that spirit.

Many in the religious community were concerned about the decision by Lowes – because it was perceived as an act that discriminated against one religious community in this country, or because it was perceived that they were pressured to act by one religious group, speaking out against another. The officials at Lowes greeted our delegation respectfully, and we dialogued openly for more than an hour. It was the kind of civil discourse that is woefully missing from our public life – and when it was over both the religious leaders and the Lowe’s officials celebrated the discourse as a success. In that hour the officials at Lowe’s reiterated their support of American Muslims, and people of all faiths, and no faith. Their statement and defense of diversity is quite vigorous and a core value of their corporation. In fact, Lowe’s knew that the show, “All American Muslim,” was part of the advertising block they had purchased – and they saw no need to block it, because they support the Muslim community in this country. It was only after listening to the social media “chatter” which came to surround the show that they made an advertising decision (not a religious or ethical one) to pull their advertising. The officials admitted to us that their response to the rising controversy had been handled “clumsily” (this was their language). They admitted that they had allowed the small group in Florida to claim a religious victory in pressuring Lowe’s to pull their advertising. So, Lowe’s admitted that their handling of the issue allowed it to become a perceived act of religious intolerance. Over and over they defended their values statements, their belief in religious toleration, their support of American Muslims, and adherents of all other faiths.

You do not know me, John, so you have no right to accuse me as you have. I have not ignored the abuses of Islam around the world, as you suggest. I am quite aware of these issues. But neither have I ignored the countless atrocities committed in the name of Christ in the last 2,000 years. Unfortunately, no religion is free from the idolatry of violence. So I am acutely aware, and deeply concerned about religious violence in this world – regardless the perpetrator, and regardless the victim – and I am deeply concerned about the hostility between religions, which I believe only increases the tensions, and inevitably leads to more violence. It was for this reason, and because I am a Baptist, that I chose to speak with Lowes about our concerns.

Baptists were founded as a protest to the tyranny of State Religion. Roger Williams, the first Baptist in American, was exiled to Providence, Rhode Island, because of his unyielding insistence that “papists, Jews, and Turks” be allowed to worship as the saw fit. This dissenter’s voice was not popular in 1639, and the voices of religious tolerance are still not accepted. (As I have been reminded so keenly in the last few weeks!) Roger Williams did not agree with all of the tenets of the Turks (Muslims), nor of the Native Americans, who practice animism, nor of the atheists, who practiced not at all – but he was convinced in the urgency of “liberty of conscience” – that only religion affirmed, free of coercion, could be true. Out of that conviction he willingly defended even those whose religions were in degrees of opposition to his own. In that regard I am Baptist to the core, and will continue to defend the rights of Americans to practice the religion of their choosing , or no religion at all – and without coercion, and without violence, and without the discriminatory condescension that so many cast on the religion of another.

Finally, you say that the separation of church and state is nowhere to be found in the constitution, yet the very first amendment to the constitution ensconces this separation – in both the “establishment clause” and the “free exercise clause.” The Bill of Rights became law in 1791, the work of most of the same founding fathers who created our beloved Constitution, which had become law only four years earlier. Just as the second amendment is “gospel truth” for so many in this country (and I support second amendment rights), the first amendment, guaranteeing the freedom of religion for all in this great land (which sounds pretty Baptist to me!), is a core principle of this nation.

Believing that this nation was founded to be free from state tyranny over religion, and believing that the nation was founded on the value of pluralism – an openness to people of every creed and culture (“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”), I will continue in my defense of religious liberty.

It is too late to wish you a Merry Christmas, but in a spirit of religious conviction and of liberty of conscience…

Grace and Peace,

Russ

A Baptist Response to a Baptist Resolution

In 2011 fall convocation of the NC Baptist State Convention, a resolution was passed in support of the so-called “marriage amendment” to the NC State Constitution. I have written a rather lengthy response to this resolution. I will include my entire response, but since it is so lengthy, I will break it into three separate blog posts.

January, 2012

The full text of a resolution, approved by messengers in the annual meeting of the Baptist State Convention of NC (fall of 2011), is printed below. I have no particular grievance with the BSC of NC. I am choosing to respond to their resolution only because it provides a venue to voice all of my concerns about the amendment.

My opposition to the amendment is not based on its impact relative to homosexuality. The treatment of homosexuals, however, especially should the amendment carry, is a serious concern, so I will respond as appropriate to statements in the resolution which denigrate homosexuals. My overriding concern is simply the way the amendment is framed and the overarching logic being used to support its passage. My responses will highlight the faulty logic and the non-sequiturs that are often employed in a “biblical justification” for marriage and against homosexuality. (My comments are interspersed between each “whereas” of the resolution.)

***
WHEREAS, In the first primary election of 2012, North Carolina will hold a statewide referendum on a proposed amendment to the North Carolina Constitution that recognizes marriage as the union of one man and one woman.

RESPONSE
Though it is preferable that the referendum on the amendment not be tied to the presidential election in the fall of 2012, it is not to be denied that the action of the NC Baptist convention is explicitly political, and the work of the NC legislature explicitly manipulative of religion for political purpose. Baptists should always decry the abuse of religion for political purpose and the dependence on politics for religious purpose.

An issue of key importance, and a critical concern of the opponents of the amendment, is the wording of the amendment – which does not simply define marriage as between one man and one woman. The wording of the amendment goes much beyond a defining of marriage when it says “[the amendment is] to provide that marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this state” (emphasis added). The concern should be self-evident, but will be explicitly stated, below.

***
WHEREAS From the beginning, the Bible established the basis for sexuality by declaring that human being are created in God’s image as “male and female” (Genesis 1.26-27); and

RESPONSE:
Yes. God created them male and female – but what does this have to do with homosexuality, heterosexuality, marriage, or other “marriage substitutes”? Homosexual people are male or female just as heterosexuals are. Homosexuality does not deny the gender base of the creation narrative. Females are made in the image of God, as are males, whether married or single, homosexual or heterosexual.

***
WHEREAS Marriage originated from God, established in the order of creation to be a permanent union of one man with one woman (Genesis 12.28 and 2.24); and God ordained that “a man leaves his father and mother and bonds with his wife, and they become one flesh” (Genesis 2.24); and marriage is therefore first and foremost a divine institution (Matthew 19.6) and is only recognized as a cultural and civil institution having a pre-existing definition; and

WHEREAS, Jesus reaffirmed the origin of marriage in the order of creation and declared marriage to be a sacred, monogamous, and life-long institution joining one man with one woman (Matthew 19.4-6); and

WHEREAS, Marriage between a husband and a wife is the beautiful allegory of Christ’s union with his bride, the church (Ephesians 5.25-32), and the sacredness of it must be protected; and

RESPONSE:
There should be no doubt that marriage is sacred. There should be no doubt that the Bible affirms that when a man chooses to be married, he clings to his wife in a mystical union beautifully imaged as “one flesh.” But what does “a permanent union” mean? Many Christians have come to recognize that divorce is an unfortunate fact of life, regardless the religious commitment of those who enter marriage. Most marriages (as the statistics now show) end in divorce. To base an understanding of marriage on such a woodenly-literal interpretation is to implicate the majority of Christian marriages in a condemning fashion. This part of the resolution upholds a view of marriage that is pristine – and while ideals are important for us – the failure to recognize the reality of marriage in its current context compounds the heartbreak of a failed relationship by adding to it the judgment of God. I make this point to show that the resolution fails to recognize the state of marriage in its current context. (Anyone who might object, claiming the timelessness of God’s truth, need only be reminded that not so long ago in the state of NC there was hardly a Christian to be found who did not believe slavery was an institution ordained of God, and ensconced in the timelessness of God’s Truth, i.e., in the literal words of scripture.)

The resolution shows little recognition that the Bible hardly endorses “marriage” as envisioned by NC Baptists. The nuclear family was hardly the norm in biblical context, and we are hard-pressed to find in the Bible a marriage which follows that definition (one mother, one father, and children born to these parents). To cite only two examples, polygamy was the norm in much of the ancient world, and “levirate marriage” was a common practice (taking the widow of a deceased brother as one’s wife – regardless how many other wives a man had). I believe in the nuclear family, and I support traditional marriage (“traditional” by our definition!), but it is unfair to the text to impose on the biblical text the imagery and cultural understandings of the 21st century Western world.

While the Bible clearly endorses the relationship between a man and a woman, there is nothing in Genesis 2.24, on its face, to indicate the marriage of “one man to one woman” is the only relationship which God might support. In other words, the text does not say the man shall cling only to this one wife. In a culture supporting polygamy, for example, this text might very well have been used to indicate God’s support for each wife the man takes (with the man and each wife becoming “one flesh.”) And, while the text does not mention homosexual relationships, again, strictly on its face, there is nothing in the text to deny such a relationship either. While there are biblical texts that speak directly to the homosexual relationship, this one does not. That “a man shall… cling to his wife” does not, in and of itself, necessarily exclude other relationships.

Finally, the resolution is correct to assert that marriage is “first and foremost a divine institution,” and to recognize this “pre-existing definition.” Why, then, does the Church need the protection of the State for a divinely sanctioned institution? The Church does not ask the State to define baptism, nor seek governmental assistance in determining whom we can and cannot admit into membership or ordain to ministry or bury. The Church does not need the government’s intervention – or its interference – in ecclesial matters. Sacred marriage is clearly in the purview of the Church to define and defend.

Isaiah 52.7-10; Luke 2.25-38
Russ Dean, January 1, 2012

If you’ve not been there, I hope you get a chance to visit Jerusalem. It is a beautiful, fascinating city. It is one of the world’s most important cities because of our global, political and religious climate – and because of its centrality to the biblical narrative, Jerusalem is an essential destination for pilgrims. My trip this July was my second, and though it had been 26 years since I first saw The Holy City, Jerusalem had not changed at all.

If I had a lasting impression 26 years ago, it was, ironically, the un-holiness of it all. While I knew I had “walked today where Jesus walked,” the excessive commercialism, the gaudy sentimentalism, and the religious exceptionalism left a disappointed taste in my mouth. And if I had to caricature my 2011 trip by one experience, I might say that the Jewishness of all of Israel will stay with me this time. I hope you hear the irony. The Jewishness of Israel! (Before a recent trip made by members of our family, Amy talked about the strong Muslim and Jewish presence she had experienced in Jerusalem, and one family member said, “Oh, I’ve never thought about Jerusalem as a Jewish city!” Perhaps only an evangelical Christian from the conservative U.S. South could make such a statement!) Yes, Jerusalem is a Jewish city – The Jewish city, and all of the land is Jewish. Everywhere you go: black cloaks, black hats, ear-locks, Kosher menus, Hebrew writing… It is strange to be in that culture. Protestant ministers are part of our landscape, markers of this culture, an expected, accepted, appreciated presence in this
land. But we’re about as foreign in Jerusalem as a barbeque sandwich!

But what a helpful experience: To be a foreigner. An outsider. A minority. Modern Judaism is not the religion of Jesus. Modern Jerusalem, not what Jesus experienced. But that culture is certainly more like his culture than the culture of Southpark Mall. Wow! We were there yesterday, and what a slice of the American experience. Affluence and hip hop and urban adolescence and American materialism… just amazing. And to be in Jerusalem on a Friday night, for a protestant pastor from North Carolina? Another experience, altogether.

The Western Wall is the holiest ground on the planet for Jewish worshipers – and though many Jews spoke warmly to us – this was a weird experience. There’s no anti-Semitism in that statement. It wasn’t weird because Jews are weird – that is not what I said – it’s just that that place and that moment was so foreign to my experience of culture and worship and spirituality. You know, religious people can be weird. Jews and Christians and Hare Krishnas and Jehovah’s Witnesses. There are fanatics in all religions. But even as a Baptist (who are thought of as pretty religious!), and even as a minister, I felt like a fish out of water: the religious garb… the singing… the dancing… the Hebrew prayers… Weird!

And Simeon and Anna were right there!

If it’s possible to imagine, the ground on which I stood that Friday night, was even holier 2,000 years ago than it is today. At the top of that wall is a plaza on which Solomon’s Temple stood. It was built about 900 years before Christ, and housed a room called the Holy of Holies, and at the center of that center, the very presence of Yahweh. God’s presence resided in a box, which contained the tablets of the Ten Commandments. The Western Wall is all that is left of the Temple compound – and if a 3,000 year-old retaining wall (which is all that the Western Wall was, originally) can represent the presence of God, causing some people to act so strangely – imagine how they would act in very presence of God! The Temple attracted all sorts. The devout.  The curious. The cynic. The believer. The traveler. They all came. And there were those few, those religiously-weird fanatics, who made the Temple their home. Like Simeon. Like Anna.

Simeon was there. Waiting. Day after day. Waiting. The consolation of Israel was at stake. The Almighty was going to do something – something dramatic. There – right there. And Simeon was convinced he was going to see it. So he was going nowhere, even though at his age it was more and more difficult just to get out of bed. But he was there. And so was Anna. Think worn, weary, old woman. Waiting, too. For the redemption of Israel. Two religious fanatics. They believed. They were there. Day and night. Waiting. Believing. And, finally… seeing!

God’s salvation. They saw it. In a child. Their experience has been the confirmation of Christians for 20 centuries. Now my eyes have seen your salvation. In this child. Jesus. Salvation.

But, Simeon… may we talk about that sentence!? My sons just laughed a little because that’s their grandfather’s favorite way to correct your grammar. We’ve all heard it on more than one occasion: “Russ, may we talk about that sentence!?” So… Simeon, may we talk about that sentence? Now my eyes have seen your salvation… May we talk about pronouns? I’m shocked every day at the number of educated Americans who can’t use pronouns. “Me and Jim are going to the game.” May we talk about that sentence? Jim and I are going. “Mary and her are going, too.” May we talk about that sentence? “Mary and she are going.” The best lesson my father taught me about pronouns is this: drop the other person’s name, and just use the pronoun. You would never say, “Her is going to the game” – so don’t say, “Mary and her is going…” Now Simeon’s error was not so egregious, but I still want to say, “Can we talk about that sentence?” Now my eyes have seen your salvation. Simeon… isn’t it our salvation!?

The Hebrew word is yash’a, to save. It’s the word from which we get Jesus’ own name.

Yash’a becomes yeshua becomes Joshua becomes Jesus: one who saves.
From The Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament hear these words:

Yash’a and its derivatives are used 353 times. (It’s obviously an important Old Testament concept.) The root meaning in Arabic is “make wide” or “make sufficient’; this root is in contrast to sarar “narrow,” which means “be restricted” or “cause distress.” That which is wide connotes freedom from distress and the ability to pursue one’s own objectives. To move from distress to safety requires deliverance. Generally the deliverance must come from somewhere outside the party oppressed.

Salvation: to make wide. Yes. “Freedom from distress and the ability to pursue one’s own objectives.” Jesus saves? Yes. The book of Hebrews says, “let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles…” (Hebrew 12.1). That which entangles us, keeps us from pursuing our own objectives, that which restricts true freedom – is sin. And in Jesus’ way of love there is liberation – a wideness that saves us from all that entangles. Jesus saves us by teaching us to live in the freedom which God created for us. The beautiful hymn says it well:n“There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea.”

Can you see it? Simeon and Anna saw it, in Jesus. It was a revelation. Those who walked in darkness have seen a great light (Isaiah 9.2). Epiphany is this coming Friday. Old Christmas some call it, the twelfth day of Christmas. We generally read the story of the Magi on Epiphany – for that story conveys the idea that Jesus was revealed not only to Israel, but to all the nations, and those wise men from the East… represent the nations. We celebrate Epiphany today, with the eye-opening revelation to Simeon and Anna. Who had waited.

The story says to us: your waiting is over. God’s salvation is our salvation. And it is with us, already. It is our point of departure – and it is our destination: Thy kingdom come, on earth…(Matthew 6.10). Salvation is a wide path of mercy and grace and justice and love. When you have seen hospitality – open doors of warmth and welcome – you have seen salvation. When you have seen inclusion and acceptance – the making of community – you have seen salvation. When you have seen forgiveness offered, forgiveness received – the restoration of relationships – you have seen salvation. When you have seen justice – in random acts of kindness or whole systems turning to the right – you have seen salvation. When you have seen peace – in the end of wars and the end of petty grudges held among friends – you have seen salvation. When you have seen someone set free, whether from mental illness or physical pain, whether from a dead-end career
or low self-esteem, whether from the powers without or the forces within… when you have seen someone set free from anything that entangles them, hinders them from becoming all they could be… you have seen someone set free from the power of sin.

You have seen our salvation.

Jesus said, don’t wait for it. It won’t come with the signs of the times. It won’t be “here” or “there” (Luke 17.21). There’s no cataclysmic, apocalyptic kingdom to come – only the eschatology of a world, changed, one salvation at a time. Pat Jobe was a friend of Charlie
Milford, and he had the same iconoclastic spirit. He lives in the mountains, and his words speak appropriately:

… never doubt for a second that we have been saved; and that this is a deeply
personal and liberating salvation. Like a child pulled from a hole in the ice, like a rescue from a burning building, like an almost-bobbled play in baseball, like an account saved from a competitor, we are saved.
Even though there is always danger of wasting what has been freely given, the reckless indulgence of a spoiled child, the salvation is absolute, nonnegotiable. It is a light at the end of every tunnel, comfort at the end of the longest nights, even in the midst of the longest nights, it is complete, unconditional, thorough, soaking to the bone, filling bellies, wetting throats, curing diseases, bringing peace.

Salvation is real. It is for today. And Seeing Our Salvation… is the right way to start a new year!

May it be so!

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