A Doctrine of Cringe

Cringe is an instinctive recoil from something you don’t want to be associated with. Usually because of embarrassment. There are associated categories. Camp is something done in a flagrantly flamboyant way. It would be cringe, except that everyone knows it is being done for a joke. Tyler Perry’s Madea or the long history of men dressing up as women is camp. When you lose the joke and someone thinks it is serious, it is cringe inducing.  And everyone just wants to get away from the uncomfortable situation.  There flip sides to cringe and camp.  Something that is venerable might be the opposite to camp. The Lord’s Supper is venerable.  Simple vestments on a minister – the purpose of which are to disguise the actual man under the mantle of office – are venerable. At various times and places people have tried to turn them into camp. But sadly only the church itself seems to be able to do that when it stops treating the sacrament with veneration it becomes camp.  And anyone associated with the church growth movement of the past 20-30 years probably knows the word winsome. It is the opposite of cringe. A winsome witness is one that attracts. Which was the entire goal of that movement.

The Bible and hence the church has a number of teachings, call them doctrines or dogmas.  And these teachings really never change. The creeds are a summation of some of them: Creation and providence, the person of Christ and justification, Sanctification and means of the Holy Spirit.  The catechism or the service itself adds the practice and administration of the Sacraments.  There are other doctrines that grow out of the life of faith.  And it is interesting to me how in each era of the church can treat certain doctrines as cringe and others as venerable, some as winsome while others as camp.

For example, the late middle ages had a thing for bridal imagery. You can hear Reformation echoes of it in many hymns.  The Bridegroom Soon Will Call Us (LSB 514) or Soul, Adorn Yourself with Gladness (LSB 636) – “Hasten as a bride to meet him, and with loving rev’rence greet Him…”  And such bridal language is solid biblical teaching. But in our sexually confused era many of these – especially if you go beyond the hymns and read for example Bernard of Cluny’s devotional writings – it dips into cringe.  At least for men.  Cringe at the level of “Jesus is My Boyfriend” songs.

Paul in our epistle reading today (1 Corinthians 12:1-11) is talking about a deeper teaching that causes the widest range of reactions. “Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed.”  To many high enlightenment academically trained theologians you have entered the realm of cringe. So much so that that many churches stopped teaching this doctrine.  They developed their own doctrine called cessationism.   A strict Calvinist would simply say 1 Corinthians 12 is a dead letter for all of us outside of the apostolic generation, because spiritual gifts have ceased.  At the same time you have the largest modern Christian movement – Pentecostalism – which is completely centered around spiritual gifts and their use. 

That division, much of Old Mainline Protestantism being cessationist, if not formally in reality, while many Christians being driven by their experiences into Pentecostal type churches, is exactly what Paul is trying to address. Most of the letter of 1 Corinthians is addressing various divisions. To the people that might find spiritual gifts as cringe, Paul straightforwardly says. “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.” Don’t quench the Spirit. To the people who find them the only interesting thing, be aware of the danger. First Paul seems to pair them up. “To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge.” The flashier gifts find their balance in the more grounded.  And these are all from the same Spirit. Don’t get haughty about your experience.

Paul’s point is that the one body has many members, and we all need each other. And if our era thinks hands are cringey, it would still be foolish to cut them off. Likewise, something might be very venerable, but if that is the only thing the church does, “if the whole body were an eye, where is the sense of hearing? (1 Corinthians 12:17).”  If we let our era’s reactions, be they cringe or veneration, decide on the validity of doctrines, we probably find ourselves hacking up the body of the church. Instead we should seek out how the Spirit is “manifesting for the common good (1 Corinthians 12:7).”

Through Water and Fire

Biblical Text: Luke 3:15-22, Isaiah 43:1-7, Romans 6:1-11

The day on the church year was the Baptism of Our Lord. The theme of the readings for the day is officially baptism, but the real theme is Fire and Water. Which seemed a little on the nose for this week of the California fires. It was a week of too much fire and too little water. But what the readings would urge us to see is both what the fire manifests and the water that we have been given. All the world is on fire. We only occasionally recognize it. And when we do, we can’t lose the moment. Don’t lose the moment to ask for the living water. That’s what this sermon explores. Walking through the fire by means of the living water.

The Flames

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. – Isaiah 43:2

We’ve probably all been watching the California fires.  The reaction to these seems a bit subdued if anything.  If I was taking a guess, it’s because they are somewhat unimaginable. Comprehending Pasadena burning or the Hollywood Hills is just not something that seemed possible. The search for Mrs. O’Leary’s cow will be impressive. (The apocryphal cause of the Great Chicago Fire.) So imagine turning to the assigned texts for Sunday and finding the above verse. The lectionary is way more topical than it has any right to be.

The Pacific Southwest District of the LCMS has eight (8) congregations in the area.  As of Thursday morning all of them are still standing. Lots of evacuation.  Some reports of members houses burned and further of students.  Fairly universal power outages.  But Trinty in Simi Valley’s report seems to summarize, “In ‘the eye of the storm’ with lots of wind but no smoke or fire.”  Prayers are requested.  But jumping immediately to a divine deliverance proclamation is too simple, even if that is what we would like.  It would be nice if there was a divine hedge around us protecting us from the unimaginable.  But that really isn’t what Isaiah is saying.  What God is telling us here is better.

I’d suggest you read Isaiah 42 and 43 together if you have the time. Isaiah 42 is one of the “Servant Songs” which might be familiar. It starts off extolling the servant who “a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench. (Isaiah 42:3).” It proceeds through a call to “Sing to the LORD a new song, his praise from the ends of the earth (42:10).” But then it turns. Israel does not accept the Lord’s Servant. God does these things and does not forsake them, but “they say to metal images, ‘you are our gods’ (42:17).” Having turned from God they receive their due.  “This is a people plundered and looted, they are all of them trapped in holes and hidden in prisons (42:22).” Isaiah is prophesying to those in exile attempting to understand their situation. Chapter 42 concludes that God has “set him (the servant) on fire all around, but he did not understand; it burned him up, but he did not take it to heart (42:25).”

The servant is both Israel as type and Christ as fulfillment. Israel failed, Christ is Israel reduced to one who succeeds. He takes our deserved baptism of fire. And that is where Chapter 43 begins.  “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine (43:1).”  Being God’s people doesn’t exempt us from the floods and fires of this life.  It doesn’t take us out of a fallen world groaning for the revelation. We still pass through the waters.  The rivers still rise. Fires still blaze. But the promise is that “I will be with you (43:2).” The promise is that this life “will not consume you (43:2).” And the “you” is “everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made (43:7).”  We have a savior.  The LORD our God, the Holy One of Israel.  “Before me no god was formed, nor shall there be any after me. I, I am the LORD, and besides me there is no savior (43:10-11).”

The disasters of this life, far from being reasons to deny God, which is what the world wants us to do, are the opportunities to realize that God has drawn near to us. That in the midst of the fires, God is with us.  And we shall not be consumed. That even if everything is lost, in my flesh I shall see God.  The LORD makes a path in the sea.  The waters of baptism now save you.  The chariot and horse, the army and warrior, the wars and rumors of war that threaten to consume, “they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick (Isaiah 43:17).” And this is done so that we might be his witnesses (43:10), “that they might declare my praise (43:21).”

Israel would not do this.  “Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob; but you have been weary of me, O Israel (43:22).” Yet God is faithful. “I will not remember your sins (43:25).”  Which leaves it to us. Are we willing to witness. That even in the midst of disaster God is with us.  Are we willing to praise? That Christ has saved us eternally. Fear not, for the LORD shall gather all his people, “bring my sons from afar, and my daughters from the ends of the earth (43:6).”  For this we were made, to glorify God our savior.

Growing in Wisdom/Knowing the Time

Biblical Text: Luke 2:40-52

It comes from stanza 3 of Once in Royal David’s City. “For He is our childhood’s pattern.” That hymn applies it in the more common way that Jesus experienced everything we did. Which is meaningful for what the Athanasian creed would call “the assumption of the humanity into God.” That is Christ the new Adam who saves all humanity. But I think our Gospel lesson today asks us to think about that pattern in another way. How is this story of the late childhood of Jesus a pattern for our spiritual life?

I don’t think it is a shocking statement to say that spiritual maturity doesn’t move at the same rate as physical maturity. We can’t do anything about aging. But spiritual maturity comes about through trial. It comes about through learning to recognize the time. But also learning that unlike in mortal life which “flies forgotten as a dream” no time is ever really lost in Christ. Twelve year old Jesus is presented with a time. A Passover in Jerusalem leading to a highly flattering role as prodigy guru. Or a return to nowhere Nazareth in submission to parents. And in submission to a very different Passover in Jerusalem.

This sermon attempts to meditate on this pattern for maturity in the Spiritual life. The role of submission. Learning to know the time. Developing the heart to will the walk toward the cross. It is a very different sermon. It isn’t doctrinal, at least not in a typical dogmatic way. It isn’t straight proclamation of Christ, although that is present. It isn’t a sermon without it. It inhabits that space of practical theology. How does one grow in wisdom and stature and favor? You have to attempt to write something like this occasionally. But you are left with an awfully mystical feeling after. Because you don’t exactly know the reason why. They are mere containers for the Holy Spirit to do what He does.

Epiphany Stories

Epiphany – which on the calendar is always January 6th, the 13th day after Christmas, the Christmas season having 12 days – has a few Bible stories that are associated with it.  The alternate name for Epiphany used by the Eastern Church, Theophany, might help in understanding.  It all relates to a God showing forth. It is a sudden manifestation of our recognition of God in our midst.  Christmas isn’t necessarily an Epiphany because nobody other than Mary and Joseph, the angels and the shepherds, recognized that this was God in our midst. The Epiphany is when we recognize who Jesus is. This is also how the word Epiphany crosses over to our general usage which is something like the personal recognition of a large truth. But the largest often hidden truth is the Godhood of Jesus Christ. 

The stories associated with Epiphany are first the Magi and the star.  God was shown forth by those wise men and their gifts.  They traveled to find the King of the Jews, most likely guided by their astrological star sign.  And then arriving at the Jewish palace, they are guided by a moving star – probably an angel – and their dreams to Nazareth, a town not even on the maps. God started to make himself known to those far off.  And those gentiles bring him gold, signifying a kingly crown, frankincense, signifying a priestly calling, and myrrh signifying a prophetic purpose. Jesus manifest early as prophet, priest and king.

The second story associated with Epiphany is our gospel lesson today- the boy Jesus in the temple. The teachers of the law, the Jewish sages of that day, taking notes from a 12 year old amazed at his understanding and answers. But it might be the Epiphany missed that is more open to meditation.  Said of Mary, “they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them.” That saying being “I must be in my Father’s house” to Mary’s chastisement of Jesus.  His time was not yet. And so he returned and was submissive to them.

Which leads to the third story, the Wedding at Cana.  It is a story that reverses the child in the Temple. Mary comes to Jesus about the problem with the wine.  She knows now who he is and what he can do. Jesus says “It’s not my time.” But he then turns the water into wine performing “the first of the signs.” No longer submissive to Mary, Mary indicates it might be his time and tells everyone to do what he says. There is a very human interplay of the child desiring to move on early and the mother not ready morphing into the young man not wanting to set out and the good mother saying it is time.

The final story of Epiphany in the Baptism of Jesus. You get the full Theophany – God shining forth – in the voice of the Father, the descending dove of the Spirit and the Son exiting the waters.  “This is my Son with whom I am well pleased.” The gospel retellings are interesting. Matthew tells the theophany as being audible and visible to all. Mark tells it as Jesus alone heard and saw.  John holds that he Baptist gave witness to the voice and the dove (John 1:32-34).  And Luke our gospel this year? Luke drily reports that it happened without any comment. There is something of every Epiphany in there.  Not everyone sees and hears the same thing.  At least not at first.  We all grow into real Epiphanies.  They take time to process.

All these stories are early.  All are before Jesus begins his active ministry.  They are hints of what is to come, but to the attentive it is all there. Which I tend to think is exactly how God works in the this world.  When he reveals himself, it is all there. God does not withhold himself. But we are only able to process so much at any one time. Some Epiphanies are probably too big for our one life. We will be pondering them in our hearts until the resurrection. Other parts are made clear early. It is part of the grace of God that he reveals himself to far away magi and very close mothers. And in that grace is his steadfast love, that wherever we are at, we might come to know Him more fully.

The Current Thing

Biblical Text: Luke 2:34-35 (Luke 2:22-40)

The Current Thing is internet slang for whatever is being fought over right now but is ultimately meaningless. Nothing will change, and in a short time a new current thing will engulf everyone.

When Joseph and Mary are taking care of everything they need to legally due for purification after childbirth, they run into Simeon and Anna. And Simeon has a bunch of prophetic words. The longest being what the church calls the Nunc Demitis, Now let your servant depart in peace. But this sermon reflects on what he says to Mary directly about Jesus. The child is a sing of contradiction. And that sign is destined for the falling and rising of many, not sparing even Mary herself. It’s a deep and complex prophecy, but at the same time the eternal experience of the church. If the current thing is ultimately meaningless, Jesus is the eternal thing. People fight over and deny exactly what this sign is. But unlike the current thing, the eternal thing doesn’t move on. The eternal thing has real apocalyptic consequences. That is what this sermon for Christmas develops. We have been given a sign. A sign for the falling and rising.

Christmas Day

Biblical Texts: Isaiah 52:7-10, Deuteronomy 4:34

There are two phrases that the bible uses that form this meditation: Signs and Wonders and Baring His Arm. The way they are used initially is seen in the Deuteronomy verse: judgement, war, plagues and straight ahead power. But what Isaiah announces and what Christmas Day reveals is a much different wonder. God has bared his arm in a completely new way. Instead of judgement, grace. Instead of war, peace. Instead of power, the meekness of a baby in the manger. The Chirst child is a sign and wonder of a new thing. Not God’s judgement, but His salvation.

Christmas Eve 2024

2024 feels like to me the year gambling took over everything. That’s something of the theme of this homily. It is possible to look at the biblical story through gambler’s eyes. It’s even on old tradition in Pascal’s wager. But that really isn’t the biblical story. It is not a gamble, it’s a gift. It’s the will of God that you are his child. The child in a manger is not God rolling the dice over your soul. He is the light in the midst of the darkness. He is the love of God for you. Evermore and Evermore.

World Turned Upside Down

Biblical Text: Luke 1:29-56

There is a story about a Song that Lord Cornwallis had played at Yorktown – The World Turned Upside Down. That’s the opening story of this sermon. The biblical text is Mary’s Magnificat. And that psalm of the blessed virgin is the pinnacle song of the world turned upside down. There is a history of Hebrew women singing such songs. Miriam’s at the exodus. Hannah’s at having Samuel. But the best, the fulfillment is the mother of our Lord.

And the story of the world turned upside down is the reversing of everything you thought was true. In this case the world hold out that man must find god – the religious quest, the heroes journey. But that was never the way of the God of the Bible. He isn’t cruel and that quest is cruel. Because man can never find God. Which is why God came to man. And the World Turned Upside Down.

The Christmas Promise of Security?

And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth.  And he shall be their peace. – Micah 5:4

Out of my finance background the primary question was always the balance of risk and return.  And the best answer for almost everybody is that you are not Warren Buffet.  You will not beat the market. Accept the market return and minimize your cost through some type of passive index fund.  You will not get rich quick.  Depending upon how much you save, you might never get rich.  But if you start putting away 10% of your income in the typical S&P 500 index when in your 20’s, you’ll be more than comfortable by retirement.  And if you aren’t, it is because everything went to hell and nobody is comfortable.  The psychological fact of finance is that it is all comparative. In fact if you stop saving after 10 years, you will have more than someone who did nothing during those 10 years but starts in their 30’s and does it every year all the way until retirement.  Compound interest is a massive force.  Of course the real question for the young and financial is: How do I get stinking rich?  And all the good advice – diversification, index, low cost, compound interest – all that goes out the window. If you want to get stinking rich, you have to find the one golden egg and put everything you have in that one basket.  Find the one tree that grows straight to heaven.

When I think about preaching the gospel and various biblical metaphors for it, I love the commercial ones: debt, redemption, forgiveness. Most Lutherans hang out in the legal ones: Justification, Adoption, Inheritance. I try and stretch myself to the deliverance ones – liberation, victory – because those are the way out of the pit.  Those are the ones that speak to the black dog. There are others.  God’s word is surprisingly robust in the various ways it speaks about what Jesus does for us. But one that I have trouble with is the core of Micah’s passage – security.

My trouble comes from a couple of items.  The security is in the promise and the one who promises.  It is on the far side of the victory. We can certainly know that security now, but it is less realized than redemption or forgiveness.  The cross has a historical reality that makes real redemption.  We have all given and received forgiveness. 

Sometimes for terrible deeds. But right now, We Walk in Danger All the Way. Security seems so far away. The other reason is the financial idea I started off with.  The security of God doesn’t come from diversifying.  The security of God comes from the dramatic act of faith. It comes from putting all the eggs into the manger. That this babe, born in Bethlehem Ephrathah, too little to be among the tribes of Judah, is the ruler of Israel.  And more than Israel, that Jesus is in fact God incarnate, who sits at the right hand of God Almighty and will judge the quick and the dead – to the ends of the earth. The request of God is faith.  All our eggs in the manger.

Security, it’s dangerous.  People want it almost as bad as young finance guys want to get rich quick. As Franklin warned, don’t trade liberty for security because you will get neither. Although fear always seems like the best motivator. But power and fear are not what God chose.  God put all his eggs for saving mankind in the manger. He chose the weakest form. He showed up as a baby.  And the security is a promise.  The Kingdom of Heaven is near and it is in your midst. Today it hides in grace and mercy.  Today the violent can take it by force.  But their time is short. For soon our sad divisions cease.  And the Christ shall raise his scepter, decreeing endless peace.  And we shall dwell securely.