Sermons Online ...
Sermon: The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost (A) - 25th September 2011
St Alban's Anglican Church Epping 7, 8 and 10 am
Readings: Exodus 17:1-17 Psalm 78:1-4, 11-16 Philippians 2 Matthew 21:23-32
Last month on the 21 st August, I spoke about the question of none of us ever having all the answers. Again today a similar question as to the one raised by Jesus when he said “But, who do you say that that I am?” This week the question is asked by the chief priests and elders, of Jesus himself, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus replies with a question about John the Baptist, and the questioners respond with, ”We do not know”.
"We don't know" can be a legitimate religious response. Believers, even teachers of theology, have no vocation or commission to know all the answers. Even disciples who have been given the mysteries of the kingdom do not know the secrets of the future and cannot claim to know more than they do. Even Paul, who was not hesitant to declare his own opinions, emphasized that, inspired apostle or not, he did not claim to know such religious fundamentals as "how to pray" and the nature of visions he had experienced himself. This was not feigned modesty, but a confession of the limited nature of human knowledge as such, for Paul and for every Christian. He writes in 1 Corinthians 13:12: “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known”.
"We do not know" can be a very Christian confession of faith, but not in this instance of Jesus’ encounter. The ambiguity of religious experience and theological truth should not veil a refusal to make a decision. We will never have all the answers and doubt will remain. In this instance the religious authorities are confronted with the different ministries of John and Jesus. They had, in fact, rejected both as authentic messengers from God. Yet when the yes or no question is asked, they take refuge in "we don't know". Honest searching and struggle for the truth must finally decide, take a stand, even if one in some abstract sense still doesn't "know”. The Jesus who taught his disciples to ask, seek, knock also promised to be with them in the struggle: “And remember I am with to the end of the age”. Although Matthew does not so say it himself, he would agree that those who want to do God's will can and must "know" that the message of Christ comes from God.
As we answer that Jesus is the Logos of God, the Messiah, we must recognize that the story of our salvation stands radically over and against the philosophy of upward mobility. The great paradox which Scripture reveals to us is that real and total freedom can only be found through downward mobility. The Word of God came down to us and lived among us as a slave. The divine way is indeed the downward way.
In the centre of our faith as Christians stands the mystery that God chose to reveal his divinity to us by submitting himself unreservedly to the downward pull. God not only chose an insignificant people to carry the Word of salvation through the centuries, not only chose a small remnant of these people to fulfill his promises, not only chose a humble girl in an unknown town in Galilee to become the temple of the Word, but God also chose to manifest the fullness of divine love in a man whose life led to a humiliating death outside the walls of the city.
This mystery was so deeply ingrained in the minds and hearts of the early Christians that they sang in the hymn of Christ:
“who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:6-8)
Indeed, the one who was from the beginning with God and who was God revealed himself as a small, impotent child; as a refugee in Egypt; as an obedient adolescent and inconspicuous adult; as a penitent disciple of the Baptizer; as a preacher from Galilee followed by some simple fishermen; as a man who ate with sinners and talked with strangers; as an outcast, a criminal, a threat to his people. He moved from power to powerlessness, from greatness to smallness, from success to failure, from strength to weakness, from glory to ignominy. The whole life of Jesus of Nazareth was a life in which all upward mobility was resisted.
Some people wanted to make him king. They wanted him to show power. They wanted to share in his influence and sit on thrones with him. They wanted someone of power and influence in whom to believe. But Jesus consistently said "no" to all these desires and pointed to the downward way. "The son of man has to suffer... can you drink the cup?" Even after his death, when his followers spoke of him as a defeated freedom fighter and said, "Our own hope had been that he would be the one to set Israel free", he had to remind them again of the downward way, "Was it not ordained that the Christ should suffer and so enter into his glory?”
Jesus leaves little doubt that the way he lived is the way he offers to his followers: "The disciple is not superior to his teacher, nor the slave to his master". With great persistence he points out the downward way: "Anyone who wants to be great among you must be your slave, just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve". The downward way is the way of the cross: "Anyone who does not take his cross and follow in my footsteps is not worthy of me. Anyone who finds his life will lose it; anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it".
The disciple is the one who follows Jesus on his downward path and thus enters with him into new life. The gospel radically subverts the presuppositions of our upwardly mobile society. It is a jarring and unsettling challenge.
Yet, when we have carefully looked into the eyes of the poor, the oppressed, and the lowly, when we have paid humble attention to their ways of living, and when we have listened gently to their observations and perceptions, we might have already a glimpse of the truth Jesus spoke about. It is the glimpse of the "grace-healed eyes" the early Church father, Tertullian spoke about.
Somewhere deep in our heart we already know that success, fame, influence, power, money and answers do not give us the inner joy and peace for which we crave. Somewhere we can even have a certain envy of those who have shed all their ambitions and live their lives in simple obedience. Yes, somewhere we can even get a taste of that mysterious joy in the smile of those who have nothing to lose.
Then we realize that the downward road is not the road to hell, but the road to heaven. Keeping this in mind can help us accept the fact that in the kingdom of God the poor are the messengers of the good news.
These understandings and insights reveal that something in us is already suspicious about the upward way. But still the radical response of Jesus remains shocking. We are quite willing to say that we should not forget the poor, that we should share our gifts with the less fortunate, and that we should give up some of our extras for the many who have not made it.
But are we willing to confess that the ones whom we should not forget who are less fortunate and do not make it, are the blessed ones in the kingdom of God, the ones who call us to downward mobility as Jesus did? It all sounds pretty sad, unless we come to know that following Jesus on the downward road means entering into a new life, the life of the Spirit of Jesus himself, for we are the body of Christ in the world.
This sermon prepared using the facilities of http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=magazine.article&issue=soj8106&article=810612&mode=sermon_prep&week=A_Proper_21#PTWProper21A, The Selfless Way Of Christ. by Henri J.M. Nouwen. Sojourners Magazine, June 1981, and The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VIII, Abingdon Press, Nashville, 1995.