What is Asked of Us?

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you – 1 Peter 5:6

We are probably all cognizant of the 7 deadly sins even if we could not list them (Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Envy and Wrath).  Counter that list of vices have been lists of virtues. Paul’s list of the gifts of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). Stretching back further the pagan cardinal virtues: prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance.  Which were expanded to the magic number seven by the three theological virtues: faith, hope and love. I don’t know where along the way but when I memorized the cardinal virtues – and it had to be something that was taught because as big of a nerd as I can be I can’t imagine committing them to memory without – but when I memorized the cardinal virtues my list had substituted patience for justice (Prudence, Patience, Fortitude and Temperance). Which I only noticed many years later when someone called out my switch, and how different it made the list.  Not that justice or righteousness depending upon how you wish to emphasize it isn’t Christian, but the idea that I can make myself more just or righteous is foreign. I can act with justice toward my neighbor.  I have a freedom in civil righteousness.  But before God, my virtue counts for nothing. Which is probably why that forgotten teacher substituted it with patience.  And patience is a peculiarly Christian virtue.  Even Captain Picard said something like that once. Talking with his Klingon officer Worf, “Patience is a human virtue, it is no such thing to a Klingon. (Season 5, Ep23)” as Worf was confronted with a problem of honor. Patience rests uneasily with Pagan or Klingon virtues. Maybe cunning Odysseus would use it, but to the Pagan there is a reason Achilles is the Hero of Heroes; Picard is good, but Captain Kirk is still the mold.

Some of this came to mind when cultural commentator Ross Douthat wrote this week about struggling with the line “why would you bring kids into this *&$3-ed up world.” His struggle was that as governments and institutions grapple with the birth dearth, “at the macro level this never comes up, yet in conversation you hear it all the time.” (And if you don’t know what I mean about birth dearth it is simply that in the US, which is not as bad as some, the number of kids has fallen to 1.62 per woman.  2.1 is considered replacement.  And over 30% of adults without children currently say they don’t want any.)  And while thinking through today’s Epistle lesson, and preparing for the Joshua Bible Study, something struck me about Mr. Douthat’s puzzle and the virtue of patience.

At least one political ideology at play in the United States is deeply tied to a cluster of ideas.  That cluster rests on two planks: utopian in that we can make this world substantially better and atheist in that this world is all there is. Sometimes that combination produces some amazing change.  The fierce urgency of now meeting a problem whose time has come. But it also curdles. When the arc of the universe doesn’t bend fast enough. Or a skeptic might say when the progress aimed for isn’t progress at all.  Or when a source of hope – a theological virtue after all – is not immediately present.  “Why bring kids into this messed up world?” 

Christian teaching should be something of an inoculation against such thinking. Given the fact of our fallen natures, this old world is never going to be a Utopia. Although I would simply point out that we live at a fantastic time. Not that there aren’t problems, and in some ways worse because they are spiritual in nature, but materially there is no comparison.  We are relieved from the burden of “making the eschaton immanent” – it is not our job to bring the New Jerusalem down.  God will do this in his own good time.  What is asked of us is hope, and faith and a bit of patience. Hope that the promises of God are true.  That he will certainly “exalt us.”  Faith that we might “humble ourselves” and accept our daily bread.  Faith that blessings, like children, are blessings. And a bit of patience. The Lord knows your frame.  “Christ will himself restore, confirm, strengthen and establish you (1 Peter 5:10).”

Mars Hill

Biblical Text: Acts 17:16-31, 32-34

There are sermons that bubble up from things that take place during the week. Even the day before you commit them to paper. And then there are those that are the considered reflection of a long span of time. This one might have been sprung on me late in the week, but it is one of the second type. The text is Paul in Athens. And Paul in Athens is such a rich text. Why this is one of those long simmering preparation sermons is because the way this text has influenced the church that I have spent most of my adult life in I am convinced has been dramatically wrong. If you just say “Mars Hill” in church-y circles, there is an assumed theology. And just because two places that adopted the name blew-up, doesn’t mean the theology met its end.

The sermon examines that theology. Attempts to point out its fatal flaw. Proclaims what the necessary corrective is. But also must admit that in the conflict with the world, the world can be very attractive. People of their own volition can choose the world. And that maybe they want to. It’s a bit complicated, but I believe it can be meaningful to those who have turned away from the world and toward the Spirit.

A Place Called Hell

“in which He [Christ] went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison” 1 Peter 3:19

That verse from our Epistle Lesson is the typical scriptural basis for what was happening in the Apostle’s Creed line “he descended into hell.”  Ephesians 4:8-10 also contains the idea.  If both Peter and Paul hadn’t preached something like that, there is no way that line ends up in the creed. You will notice how the Nicene Creed gingerly steps around a couple of things that the Apostle’s takes head on. The Nicene states “he suffered and was buried” avoiding the apostle’s one word “died.” Like the Nicene skips right to the third day.  No mention of a harrowing of hell.  Confessionally, this all ends up in the Formula of Concord Article 9, https://bookofconcord.cph.org/en/formula-of-concord-epitome/ix_the_descent_of_christ_to_hell/. Personally, this is a doctrine that the artists get right. I have a soft spot for the cartoon-y picture nearby. Satan bound and speared by the cross. Christ leading the souls out of death’s mouth who reaches for them with that too short t-rex arm. The 2nd Adam extending his hand to help the first Adam who himself is leading Eve. If you google “harrowing of hell” and put it on image search you will see picture after picture and icon after icon very similar. The Harrowing of Hell is a triumph parade of Saints exiting what in Hebrew is Sheol.

My mind has been on Hell for a bit. Not because I’m wishing someone there.  Or even because my sins are pressing on me. Like most of these things it started with a study prep. The Augsburg Confession study with the Young Adults (does anyone like being called that? I usually say 20-somethings.  Oh to be 20-something and have all your joints still working.), anyway, the Augsburg Confession article 17 doesn’t tip-toe around anything. “He will condemn ungodly people and the devils to be tormented without end.”  It came up a 2nd time in an offhand conversation.  And in the way the algorithm works – my phone must have overheard that conversation – the next day Amazon recommends a new book which just happens to be about a modern decent into hell (R.F. Kuang’s Katabasis, which 200 pages into it is really good). And thinking a bit more, it’s a doctrine that you never hear directly preached from the pulpit.  For all the cliches about fire and brimstone preaching, I’ve never heard one on the doctrine itself, nor do I remember preaching one.  Which probably reflects the emphasis of seminary – “stick to the gospel.”

But if you take that advice to the extreme – ignoring confessions, creeds and Jesus himself – you end up with a weak universalism. “God’s too good of a guy to send anyone to hell.  Hell has to be empty, well, maybe except for Hitler.” This is not the strong form of apokatastatis, the philosophical idea that all things will eventually be reconciled to God in Christ, even Satan. The church has never completely condemned that, but she also has never preached it. It isn’t in the bible. We can’t preach it.  And if Jesus, the only man who has ever been there and returned, says things like “I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him! (Lk. 12:5 ESV)” philosophical reflection doesn’t give the comfort. Do you really want to spend untold ages in torment waiting for the final reconciliation of all things?  Today is the day of grace. Believe in Christ, today.

I see that my word count is at the end.  I had intended a bit more about history and concept of: Sheol, the bosom of Abraham, the underworld, the distinctions between Hades and Tartarus. An abode of the dead is a universal idea. It is a vanishingly small number of people, all from the last 200 years, that would say “sorry, this is it.” Even the ancient materialists would say it all comes back, it is all an eternal return. But maybe not knowing much about hell beyond – “you don’t want to find yourself there” – is all we really need. And if you don’t want to find yourself there, I have good news. Christ has won.  And he’s given you the victory. Satan’s arrows broken lie, destroyed hell’s fiercest weapon. The gates of Heaven are open. Today.

The Continuing Works

Biblical Text: John 14:1-14

The text ends with what I personally think is one of the toughest sayings in the bible. “You will do greater works than these” along with the promise to ask anything and it will be given. Any fair presentation has to establish what works are being talked about such that the promise could be true. The question about prayer is a little easier and most people will accept answers like “well, if you ask for a knife, because you are going to kill someone, that isn’t likely to be answered yes by God.” But saying that those who believe will do greater works than Jesus is much tougher.

The lead up to this saying is about who exactly Jesus is and what works – or maybe I should say work – he is doing. And that work is primarily filling up his Father’s house. The work Jesus is doing is calling people back into a right relationship with God – with the Father. And that is where the sermon starts. And it builds from there through the conversation that Jesus has with Thomas and Philip. A conversation that I think is almost natural and deeply enlightening. As well as full of good news.

Social Media and Martyrdom

An internet acquaintance (How do you really talk about para-social relationships?  People you don’t really know in real life, but with whom you interact with over social media almost daily?  I know they say there is nothing new under the sun, but that really might be something new.  Of course you could just not have them, which is probably much smarter, but when have we ever been morally smart? Sometimes I try to imagine Jesus in a social media world and it just doesn’t work.) Anyway, an internet acquaintance observed that he thought the Protestant and Catholic understanding of martyrdom had drifted apart.  And of course the first reading for this week is the martyrdom of Stephen, the first martyr.  Call it providence.

The conversation came about from a silly “trolley problem” type question that took over social media. There are two buttons: red and blue.  Everyone in the world must press one of them.  If 50% or more press blue, everyone lives.  If 50% or more press red, those who press red live, those who pressed blue die. And a great argument arose. Of course if everyone just pushes red, everyone is ok. Everyone has it within their power to be safe.  Yet, lots of people insisted that blue was the only moral choice. You must stand with staving everyone because toddlers and others might not understand what they are pressing.

It really is an ingenious hypothetical question. Do you throw yourself into a blender hoping that at least 50% of people jump in the blender also so it doesn’t get turned on, or do you just not jump in the blender?  And that restatement helps, but I don’t think it really gets at the core.  Pressing blue/jumping the blender is taking on the vocation of Christ. I will save the world by doing this. And that gets at the question of the role of martyrdom. Can one actively choose martyrdom or is martyrdom something that chooses you?

And this was my internet acquaintance’s observation.  Modern Roman Catholicism puts forward people like Maxmillian Kolbe. If you know the story it is definitely inspiring. Kolbe was a Franciscan priest in Auschwitz. Another man was picked for an experimental death by starvation, and Kolbe volunteered himself to take his place. If you don’t know the rest I’d recommend looking it up.  And the way that modern Roman Catholicism puts forward martyrs like this is as in persona Christi – in the person of Christ.  Pressing the blue button is putting oneself in persona Christi.

My observation in return had three points which I think are very Protestant.  The first is that none of us are called to be Christ. There in one Christ. And his one sacrifice for all. We do not re-sacrifice Christ as certain strains of Roman eucharistic theology would say. And putting yourself into that space is just as likely to be a vainglorious usurpation as a noble deed. The second observation is that martyrdom is forced upon us, it is not chosen. You don’t have another choice that gets you out with your soul intact. Now in the case of Kolbe, you can easily say that he could not see his soul intact if he did not volunteer. Likewise you could argue that for pushing the blue button. And while I would not put this on Kolbe, there is a sneaky pride in this. By saying “I push the blue button” I am asserting I am a moral person and care about others. But that is not a pure “good work.” You are not doing it for your neighbor so much as doing it to look good in the eyes of your neighbor. In the problem nobody needs to be a martyr.  Just push the red button. Stephen is martyred just for going about his call as a deacon.  They stoned him because he spoke the truth.  But lying would have cost his soul.

The last observation might sound like a close shave, but instead of being in persona Christi, a protestant understanding of martyrdom is a sharing in the sufferings of Christ (Philippians 3:10, 1 Peter 4:13). It would be a making full the sufferings of Christ (Colossian 1:24). The world hated him, and it will hate his people. Sometimes unto death. A protestant martyr isn’t a second Christ or an image of Christ, but a witness to the power of the resurrection. And that is the original meaning of martyr – witness. You might kill this body.  But I do not fear you.  I fear the one who can kill the soul.

Voice Evangelism

Biblical Text: John 10:1-10

Easter 4 is Good Shepherd sunday. The readings always come from John 10. In year A we get the first part of it. Two “Amen. Amen” or “Truly. Truly” sayings of Jesus. The sheep are present and there is talk about shepherds, but it’s a long chapter. This early part is a bit more polemical. There are shepherds and their are thieves and robbers who only want to kill and destroy. There are those who hear the voice of the shepherd, and unremarked but the binary demands it, there are those who follow the voice of strangers who are not the sheep.

So this ends up being something of a meditation on evangelism. In Jesus’ framing evangelism is simply the voice of the shepherd – the true shepherd, eventually the good shepherd. And the sheep – the true sheep – know the voice of the shepherd. Evangelism is a proclamation. And that is what this sermon meditates on a bit. How it is the proclamation to each individual. “Your sins are many and great. But I have paid them. Follow me.” And you either know that voice, or your don’t.

The Biblical Case for Communism?

Our first reading – in the season of Easter readings from The Acts of the Apostles replace the Old Testament lesson – our first reading is often jokingly picked up as the biblical argument for communism.  “All who believed were together and had all things in common…they were distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need (Acts 2:44-45).”  But to do that moves the power or causation in the wrong way.  A lot of those 18th and 19th century “-isms” that never seem to die tend to be Christian heresies.

Communism is an attempt to create just the providence of the Kingdom of Heaven without the King.  It is an attempt to pull the glory of the Kingdom into this old world not by spiritual means but by means of the flesh.  And so, if you follow the biblical case for communism a bit further in acts you eventually find that the flesh is still too much with us in this old world.  They continue to hold everything in common (Acts 4:32ff), but immediately after is the biblical horror story of Ananias and Sapphira who want to be a part, but also want to keep a part.  And eventually full biblical communism runs into a real problem when Greek speaking Jews get neglected in the distribution (Acts 6:1). The Apostle’s appoint deacons and that is the last notice of everything in common.

But I believe the lesson remains for us a wholistic picture of goodness of the kingdom. The first thing to notice is that the entire community is not formed from the will of any many or anything material.  It is formed around four things: “the apostle’s teaching, fellowship, the breaking of the bread and prayers (Acts 2:42).” The kingdom of God expressed in this church immediately after Pentecost is a Spiritual reality.  It is brought into being by the Word of God – the apostle’s teaching. And it is sustained in this world by the practices of the community. The sacramental practice of the breaking of the bread.  The spiritual practice of prayer.  The human practice of fellowship.

Within this spiritual community “wonders and signs were being done (Acts 2:43).” Now there are many times that I wish the wonders of signs the apostle’s performed were much more prevalent. But even Jesus in his teaching tended to downplay the miracles.  “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek me not because of the sigs, but because you had your fill of bread (John 6:26ff).” It is not that the miracles are nothing, but seeing them created a desire for more bread that you didn’t work for, not a faith in the one who provided. The greatest miracle performed was the creation of the community itself – the community of the forgiven.  The church is absolutely unique in this. It’s promise is simply the promise of Christ.  Your sins are forgiven.  Yes, there is other business that often happens at churches.  And there are people, at least there used to be, who joined churches for those opportunities. But the church itself, unlike every other institution of man, exists to forgive sinners. It is purely an institution of faith.

The last note from this picture is that they “had favor with all the people (Acts 2:47).” As a rightly ordered community of love the church is attractive. “The LORD added to their number day by day.” Now as Peter would comment it is still possible for the same people who “see your good deeds and glorify God” because of them to at the same time “speak against you as evildoers (1 Peter 2:11-12).”  But that is not the only experience. The community of love which the church is called to be can look inward focused as it gathers around teaching and fellowship and sacraments and prayer, but paradoxically that inward focus on the things of God also creates an outward drive of evangelism.  God is creating his people.  The LORD is gathering is Kingdom. Day by Day he adds to their number.  And it is a Kingdom where we receive exactly what we need from the storehouses of the King. 

Wesley at Emmaus

Biblical Text: Luke 24:13-35

The Road to Emmaus is one of the most evocative stories in scripture. It has some echoes of the Old Testament and the “Messianic Secret” in the line “their eyes were kept from recognizing him.” It also fits in perfectly with Luke’s love of travel narratives. We are always on the way somewhere. But for me – and liturgically coming on Easter 3 it plays into this – it is a post-resurrection appearance that deals with knowing. How do we know? In that way it can be something of a Lukan Thomas story. Except where as John’s answer is the beatitude – “blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” – which plays into John’s love of sight metaphors, Luke’s answer has some layers. I pull in John Wesley’s quadrilateral which in the way it gets used might be the most misused theological framework. I touch on that in the sermon a bit. Wesley had an answer to “How do you know?” It was roughly: Revelation, Tradition, Experience and Reason. And at least how I think it should be taken that order is a hierarchy. Scripture or Revelation is the bedrock. Tradition, something that is ever growing, is the witness of the saints and ages. It illumines the fullness of scripture. Experience is how these intersect with our lives. And the last, reason, is really teaching our fallen self to see God at work. They aren’t separate ways of knowing that are weighed against each other. They work together. And as the sermon develops the text, Jesus walks the pair on the road to Emmaus from experience through tradition and back to the Scriptures. And then they are prepared to see.

Just War & Jesus

So, it’s beginning to feel like the 15th century.  Emperors beefing with popes over some deep theology that has immediate real world consequences.  Now in 700 words, I’m not going to really solve anything. Nor when Emperors and Popes are yelling at each other does a parish pastor have much standing.  But I do think it is worth trying to think through something in writing.  There is a long Christian history of teaching that comes under the title “Just War” which goes back to Augustine. There is also just as long a history of magistrates ignoring it.

First, let’s look at the most compact form of that teaching possible.  It is from paragraph 2309 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Like Luther’s small catechism, and like all classical catechisms, is structured around: The Creed, The Sacraments, The Law, and Prayer. Paragraph 2309 on Just War is from the section on the law, subsection on the Fifth Commandment (“Thou Shall Not Kill”), further subsection on Jesus’ teaching “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” As a Lutheran, setting this in the section on the law, would tell us: 1) This is how God intends things to be (Civil Use), 2) It shows us where we sin (Religious Use), and 3) It sets for the Christian Life a standard for sanctification. Let me quote this paragraph in full.

2309 The strict conditions for legitimate defense by military force require rigorous consideration. the gravity of such a decision makes it subject to rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy. At one and the same time: – the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain; – all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective; – there must be serious prospects of success; – the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. the power of modem means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.

These are the traditional elements enumerated in what is called the “just war” doctrine. The evaluation of these conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment of those who have responsibility for the common good.

Now let’s summarize. 1) There is no such thing as a just war of aggression. 2) Even if you are aggressed against, there must be a serious cause (“lasting, grave and certain”). 3) It must be a last resort (“all other means…impractical or ineffective”). 4) Probability of success. 5) What is typically called proportionality. (“not produce evils and disorders greater than the evil to be eliminated”).

This is a Mark Brown conclusion, yours may certainly and probably does differ, but using that as a grading scale, probably WW2 and the First Gulf War are the only ones that pass the test.  It is the line on proportionality that is probably most easily crossed.  For example, saying that we will destroy an entire civilization probably crosses that line. But that moves into what I think is something truly new in Just War theory, the reality of nuclear weapons. Since WW2 increasing number of states have had the ability to destroy all life on the planet, or if not all life to make the Roman’s “salting the earth” look like child’s play.  In the current conflict, if you get past the aggression line with the reasoning that Iran has been attacking “The Great Satan” and “The Little Satan” by proxies and other means for decades, you still hit the 2nd line.  Has anything Iran done to us crossed the “lasting, grave and certain” line?  The threat of a state getting a nuclear weapon definitely crosses that line.

And that might be where the last sentence is the wisest.  “The evaluation of these conditions…belongs to the prudential judgement of those who have responsibility for the common good.”  One gets the feeling that the Pope doesn’t trust the prudential judgement of the current President, or his ability to see the common good.  The current President returns the distrust in rejecting the Pope’s reasonability in seeing the common good. A common conservative critique of progressive answers, fine intentions but guaranteed to hurt everyone.

Now as you can see from that entire summary discussion, the biblical text beyond the 5th commandment hasn’t entered into it at all. Just War doctrine is a philosophical argument.  And it is largely persuasive.  I wish this is how the nations of the earth ruled themselves.  But the Bible itself is grittier. Jesus himself seems more realist.

“But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. (Matt. 20:25 ESV)” It is just a statement of fact.  The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must. That is how this fallen world often works.  And in fact, if you read Romans 13 or 1 Peter 2:13ff, the apostles tend to think that this is probably for the good of the world.  They say to obey the rulers.  If the rulers are terrible and you can’t follow them for the sake of Christ, and they strike you, it is not a call to rebellion, but to rejoice in your sufferings for the sake of Christ.  Those rulers are present for God’s reasons. Even if we don’t know them.

Jesus then continues, “It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matt. 20:26-28 ESV)”  This old world and the church just operate by different rules.  States are not judged by individual morality.  You, me, everyone who desires to follow Christ, must pick up this cross. We are strangers in this world or as Peter would call us “elect exiles.”

You can see why Anabaptists usually don’t vote and never hold office.  They view any such authority as incompatible with the Christian life. The standard reply of the church was “no, the wheat and weeds together.”  Often referencing John the Baptist’s advice to the solider, “Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (Lk. 3:14 ESV)” If there was someone who was going to say “separate yourselves” you’d imagine the Baptist would be it.  But he does not.  His advice is don’t abuse the office but carry out your duties.

The Bible’s ultimate answer is that we await the return of the King. There is one who will rule justly. Right now he sits at the right hand of the Father. And one day shall return in power and great glory. Until then, “the kingdom suffers violence, and the violent bear it away (Matthew 11:12).”

Maturing Faith

Biblical Text: John 20:19-31

The 2nd Sunday of Easter always has the Gospel Text of the Apostle Thomas. There are two things that you can preach from this text. 1) The Office of the Keys. And I touch on that at the start. 2) Figure out something to say about doubt. And that is the tougher one. Mainline Protestantism – which the LCMS is both part of and not part of – for a generation plus has glorified doubt. Which is a terrible misreading of this text and what the bible consistently has to say about it. It is not that the Bible denies doubt. In fact as I’ll build in the sermon, it isn’t just Thomas. Everyone has some significant doubt. But doubt is a childish thing. If you are going to accomplish anything – if you are going to have life – you are going to have faith. They, faith and doubt, aren’t opposites. Doubt is a valid starting point that must give way when proof is offered. It could give way to knowledge. It could give way to accomplishment. It can give way to faith. Doubt is the starting childish position that matures into something real. The Introit for the day really starts off with the theme – “Like Newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up to salvation.” (In Latin that is Quasimodogenidi, the famed Hunchback was born on this Sunday and so called Quasimodo.) Jesus tells Thomas to “stop being faithless and believe.” That is a maturing faith. One that stops with childish things and believes.