"The Truth That Sets Us Free". A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Reformation Sunday 2017.

"The Truth That Sets Us Free"

John 8:31-36

This weekend a lot of people are celebrating Halloween.  But many Christians are remembering another day—one that marks the beginning of the Protestant Reformation. 

Five hundred years ago, on October 31, 1517, Martin Luther, an Augustinian monk and theology professor in the university town of Wittenberg, published his Ninety-Five Theses by nailing them to the door of the Castle Church.  In those days, the church door served as a community bulletin board. 

The 95 Theses were in the form of an invitation to debate about traditional church doctrine and practice, that, in Luther’s mind, needed to be reexamined and reformed.  Luther was advocating for reform within the Catholic church, but before it was over Luther would be excommunicated from the church and branded an outlaw by the Holy Roman Emperor.

As John Buchanan describes it, “violence ensued, wars were fought, martyrs on both sides were tortured and executed.  Luther’s followers and their churches were called ‘Lutherans’ in derision, but during the next century large portions of northern Germany, France, the Netherlands, Hungary, all the way to the Italian Alps and the Scottish Highlands, separated from Rome and organized themselves into Reformed churches.”[1]

            Five centuries later, as we commemorate Luther and the Ninety-Five Theses, we are reminded that the Protestant Reformation was a development that took place slowly, over time, and that it is an ongoing process. 

            Reformation Sunday can be a time for giving thanks, but also for remembering that God is always doing a new thing, though we don’t always perceive it. God’s salvation story truly is God’s salvation story. Our time in the church’s history-- like the time of Luther and Calvin and Knox-- is a chapter in a story that we didn’t create and can’t control.  

            Five hundred years after the Protestant Reformation, we’re living in a difficult and challenging time to be the church.  Back in 2008, Phyllis Tickle started talking about how the North American church was going through an every-500-years “rummage sale.” She and some other church scholars have been telling us that, when we look at the big picture, it’s something we could have predicted.  

            Tickle predicted that it will take around 100 years to work through and to find a new normal as humans, as Christians, as people who are re-learning how to love and recognize the image of God in one another.  We’re in the “chaos” phase of this process of “becoming,” and it’s going to take a while, so we need to learn to live faithfully in the tension.[2]

            I think this 500^th anniversary of Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses is a good time to listen, with new ears, to Jesus’ amazing announcement to his followers: “You will know the truth and the truth will make you free.”

            These words should startle us as much as they did the Jewish followers who heard Jesus say them the first time. Some of them were offended. “We’re the descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free?’” I don’t think these people suffered from amnesia. Recounting the saving act of God bringing the people out of bondage in Egypt was one of the basic confessions of faith for the Jews. But it seems they had come to trust more in “Abraham being their ancestor” than in their history of slavery in Egypt and the Exodus and the liberating promises of God. I wonder if we’re very different, when we forget the truth of God and God’s promises.

            As often happens in the gospel of John, Jesus makes a startling statement and it leads to more questions.  “What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free?’      For a moment, the people are shocked enough to open up enough to hear a new thing. 

            On this 500^th commemoration of the Reformation and in the days to come, I hope that we’ll be shocked enough that God’s word can burn through the fog of familiarity and become fresh good news to us.

            The good news of the gospel is that God has done for us in Christ what we cannot do for ourselves. We are “justified”—made right with God—not by our own efforts to earn our salvation by keeping a lot of rules, but by God’s free grace in coming to us.  Salvation is not a prize to be won or earned by our good works, but a gracious gift for us to accept by faith.

            The good news of the gospel is that we are valuable and worthy because God our creator and redeemer says so.  We are creatures made in the image of God.  We are children of God, persons for whom Jesus Christ suffered, died, and was raised again, persons in whom the Spirit of God is at work.  Because of all of this, we are somebody.  That is the basis of our dignity, our worth, our human rights, and our human responsibilities.   

            Shirley Guthrie explains it so well when he writes, “We don’t have to try to earn God’s love and acceptance, because we are already loved and accepted by God—unconditionally.”[3]

           

            On Reformation Sunday, we are reminded that we are justified by God’s grace, through faith.

The question of the day is:   how shall we live, in response to God’s gracious gift?  That’s where sanctification comes in. “Sanctification” is a theological word for how we grow in the Christian life, as we are taught and led further into the truth and empowered by the Holy Spirit.

            Sanctification is a life-long process, as we are gradually freed from our fears and doubts and brokenness-- to love and serve God and our neighbors as Christ does. As we grow in Christian faith, as we open ourselves to be surprised and transformed by God’s word, we come to “know the truth.”

            One sign of growing in the Christian life is maturing in love for and solidarity with all of God’s children-- especially with those who are poor and marginalized.

            In a blog post a few years ago, church historian Diana Butler Bass writes: “It strikes me as interesting that those who followed the teaching of the new reform movement did not come to be known as ‘Reformists.’  Rather, the moniker that stuck was ‘Protestant.’  Luther and his associates were protesters rather than reformers—they stood up against the religious conventions of the day, arguing on behalf of those suffering under religious, social, and economic oppression.  These religious protesters accused the church of their day of being too rich, too political, in thrall to kings and princes, having sold its soul to the powerful.   The original Protestants preached, taught, and argued for freedom—spiritual, economic, and political—and for God’s justice to be embodied in the church and the world.”  Diana goes on to say, “It is time to put the protest back in Protestantism.”[4]

I agree with Diana when she says that at the heart of Protestantism is the courage to challenge injustice and to give voice to those who have no voice.   Protestantism opened access for all people to experience God’s grace and God’s bounty, not only spiritually-- but actually. 

The early Protestants believed that they were not only creating a new church-- but they were creating a new world, one that would resemble more fully God’s desire for humanity.   The original Protestant impulse was to resist powers of worldly dominion and domination, in favor of the power of God’s spirit to transform human hearts and society.  The early Protestants were not content with the status quo.   They felt a deep discomfort within.  They knew things were not right.  And they set out to change the world.     

We live in a time of great change and anxiety, perplexity and possibility, in the church and in the world.   In 2017, as the world groans under flame and flood, as families are left shattered by sprays of bullets and the devastation of war, in this time of pluralism and materialism and secularism, of brokenness in human relationships, I believe God is working to do a new thing in our time. 

I believe we are living in a time of new reformation and that God is working to create a new church, in and through us.  I believe that God wants to use us as instruments of justice and reconciliation in the world.

            So—on this Reformation Sunday—we can be thankful for the Reformation of the 16^th century and for the gospel truth that is setting us free... and for this great adventure of growing in faith.

            On this Reformation Sunday, and in the days to come, let us be praying that we may respond to the challenges of our time with joy and eagerness to carry out Christ’s mission. 

“In gratitude to God, empowered by the Spirit, may we strive to serve Christ in our daily tasks, and to live holy and joyful lives.”[5] 

            Amen!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

October 29, 2017

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[1] John M. Buchanan, “Values Worth Fighting For,” at his blog Hold to the Good. https://jmbpastor.wordpress.com/2017/10/16/values-worth-fighting-for/

[2]  Britney Winn Lee, “Not Yet on Shore: An American Church in Tension”/

   https://sojo.net/articles/not-yet-shore-american-church-tension

[3] Shirley Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, Rev. Ed., p. 319.

[4] Diana Butler Bass, “Putting the Protest Back in Protestantism.” http://www.patheos.com/blogs/dianabutlerbass/2011/10/putting-the-protest-back-in-protestant/

[5] “Brief Statement of Faith” of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 1991. https://www.presbyterianmission.org/what-we-believe/brief-statement-of-faith/

"Courage for New Vision". A sermon on Mark 10:46-52 and Isaiah 43:18-21 for Reformation Sunday at Littlefield Presbyterian Church.

"Courage for New Vision"

Isaiah 43:18-21; Mark 10:46-52

One of the major themes in Mark's gospel is how spiritually blind the disciples were.  Last week we heard Mark's account of how James and John were so spiritually blind that, in their grasping for worldly privilege, they asked Jesus to let them sit on his right and left sides in glory.  They didn't seem to know there was anything wrong with their vision.

            In today’s gospel lesson, we find Bartimaeus sitting by the side of the road, begging for his living.  He doesn't have a perfect understanding of who Jesus is.  But he knows what he needs.  Even though Bartimaeus is physically blind, he's clearly focused on what he wants more than anything else in the world.  He wants to be able to see.   And so, when he hears that Jesus of Nazareth is coming down the road, Bartimaeus calls out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

            Now, in asking to be healed,  Bartimaeus is taking  a risk.  It'll be the end of his old life.  If he regains his sight, he won't be able to sit by the road and beg for a living.  He might see some things he won't want to see.  His new life will be strange and new. 

           

            Mark holds Bartimaeus up as a model of faith.   He knew what he needed and wanted more than anything else in the world.  He had the courage to see strange, new things.  He believed that Jesus could heal him.  So—even though there were people trying to discourage him, telling him to be quiet-- Bartimaeus dared to cry out to Jesus--  over and over--  and ask for vision.   "Let me SEE again."

            And just like that.  Just words.  No mud or spittle this time, like the last time Mark told about Jesus healing a blind man.[1]  Not even a touch.  In the blinking of an eye, Bartimaeus can see!  His faith has made him well!

            "Go your way,"  Jesus tells him.  But Bartimaeus doesn't go his way.  Right then he decides that Jesus' way will be his way, and he chooses to walk with Jesus, on the way.  His faith and his new vision enable him to follow Jesus as his disciple.

            "Go your way,"   Jesus says.   Jesus doesn't force or coerce us.  He invites us to choose freely which way we go. 

            After years of blindness, I imagine there were places Bartimaeus might have wanted to go...  things he wanted to see.  Yet it's clear in the story that immediately Bartimaeus becomes a disciple   and follows Jesus on the way.  It’s as if—once he can really see--  there's no other way.

           

            From earliest times in the church, restoring of sight has been a metaphor for the new life experienced in Christ   and for spiritual discernment.  In the early days of the church, the act of baptism was referred to in Greek as “enlightenment.”  The story of the man born blind and the story of blind Bartimaeus became part of the curriculum of instruction for new church members.  

            When we open ourselves to Christ’s healing grace, we begin to see things differently.  As we begin to see the world through Christ’s eyes--  the eyes of love--  our values are changed...  and our priorities are re-ordered.  We’re re- formed.

           

            Today on Reformation Sunday, we remember our history as a church...  to remember that our Reformed tradition is a living tradition. One of the great watchwords of the Reformed tradition is “Semper Reformanda":  The church Reformed, always being reformed, by the Holy Spirit, according to the word of God.

            Reformation Sunday commemorates the occasion in 1517 when Martin Luther posted his 95 theses on the church door in Wittenberg, Germany.  Just as God worked through the reformers who came before Martin Luther and John Calvin--  Jan Hus and the Czech Brethren, the Waldensians, John Wycliffe, and the Hussites,  as well as those who came after them--  Zwingli, John Knox, and others,   God has continued to work through the Spirit during the whole sweep of Christian history. 

            In several recent books, Phyllis Tickle describes the time we live in now as “The Great Emergence,” and offers a big-picture theory of how Christianity is changing and why.  In her book The Great Emergence, Tickle observed that about every 500 years the church cleans out its attic and has a “rummage sale.” 

            Going backward in time 500 years before our time is the Great Reformation.  Five hundred years prior to the Great Reformation is the Great Schism, around 1054, when the Greek or Eastern Orthodox branch of Christianity and the Roman branch separated. 

            Five hundred years prior to that takes us back to Gregory the Great, who became pope in a time of total upheaval following the fall of the Roman Empire… a time of bitter dissension, when the Oriental branch of Christianity—Coptic, Ethiopian, Armenian, and Syrian-- was separated from both Western and Eastern Christianity.  Pope Gregory is known as “Great” because he was able to build on the work of St. Benedict in the monastic movement in building a kind of church-political coherence of monasteries and convents that were centers of learning and service, and that would protect, preserve, and characterize the Christian movement for the next five centuries through the Dark Ages.

            If we look back approximately 500 years before that, we’re looking at what Tickle and others call the Great Transformation 2,000 years ago--  the age that gave us the Christian faith in the first place.

            I’m grateful to Tickle for her big-picture framework of how the Spirit of God has worked over the centuries to reform the Christian faith, and for how she shows how the re-formation in the church has always been related to the political, economic, and social upheavals that were also taking place.

            Tickle and others point to historical forces that combined to produce the Great Reformation:  the invention of the printing press, the rise of nation-states, corruption in religious institutions, and the emergence of an educated elite.  Every religion is tied to the culture in which it exists, just as it informs the society.  Five hundred years after the Great Reformation, we are experiencing corresponding challenges in communications, politics, religion, and scholarship.[2]  Think of the changes in our society in just the past few decades!

            This is a whole new time in the church, and for a lot of people it can be scary.  In a major study released earlier this year, the Pew Research Center describes a “changing U.S. Religious Landscape,” in which Christians have been delining sharply as a share of the population, while unaffiliated and other faiths continue to grow.         

            This is the context we live in.   I agree with Diana Butler Bass  when she writes: in this new context, “we need to know who we are with great clarity and personal commitment.   At the same time, we need to be able to love our neighbors and work beyond faith boundaries to create a new shared sense of common good.  This will call for a different sort of church than the one we knew in the centuries that came before.”[3]

            The church is being called to a new way of life.  We’re being called to re-create our identity building on the wisdom of the past, and to embrace the questions of an emerging future in which Christians may be a minority in a pluralistic society.  Part of the good news of this is that Christians have often been more faithful and creative when we are not in charge of the society.

            On this Reformation Sunday, we could celebrate what happened 500 years ago…and then hold on for dear life to the way we’re comfortable with doing church.  We could do that.  But I don’t think that’s a faithful way to celebrate the church’s journey in faith.

            We live in a broken and fearful world, and we could find so much to be afraid of.  As a congregation, we could retreat into our familiar ways of doing church, and try to find comfort and security in being a nice and friendly little congregation. 

            Or we can ask Jesus to give us the ability to see things in new, fresh ways.  We can hear the call to “take heart”—to have courage—and follow Jesus gratefully into new opportunities and possibilities. 

            We can remember how God spoke to faithful people in a hard time, saying, “Look.  I’m doing something new.  Don’t you perceive it?”

            God is still working on us, leading us further into the truth.  The church does make progress.  It comes through the painful process of repentance...  changing our minds...  and correcting our practice.

            The good news is that--  in God’s presence--  miracles do happen.  And so, my friends, take heart.  Do we have the courage to see? 

            Jesus offers us the gift of vision, so we can see to follow him.  He  invites us to come and see the world through HIS eyes...  to see new possibilities...  and have new values and priorities, both as individuals and as the church.    He invites us to have our eyes opened to the truth of God’s redeeming love...  and to follow him in an adventure of faith.

            And so, my friends, take heart!

            Amen.

             

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
October 26, 2015

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[1] Mark 8:22-25

[2] Diana Butler Bass, A People’s History of Christianity: The Other Side of the Story (Harper One, 2009), p. 154.

[3] Diana Butler Bass, “What Can the Church Become?”    Posted October 25, 2012 at http://seaburynext.wordpress.com/