Sunday, 3 July 2016

July 3, 2016 sermon - A Different Way Of Looking At The World

Those who want to impress people by means of the flesh are trying to compel you to be circumcised. The only reason they do this is to avoid being persecuted for the cross of Christ. Not even those who are circumcised keep the law, yet they want you to be circumcised that they may boast about your circumcision in the flesh. May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. Neither circumcision nor uncircumcision means anything; what counts is the new creation. Peace and mercy to all who follow this rule - to the Israel of God.
(Galatians 6:12-16)

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     Galileo was right! Everybody knows that now. But in the 17th century? Well, that was a different story. Galileo, of course, advanced the theory that the earth was not the centre of the universe, and that instead the earth revolved around the sun. This wasn't revolutionary; the idea had been around for a long time – but Galileo became its most prominent public advocate. He battled the church for years, until finally in 1633, after being ordered by the Pope to stand trial before the inquisition, he was condemned as a heretic and ordered into house arrest – where he spent the last nine years of his life. As I did a bit of research about the controversy between Galileo I came across a book called “Galileo, Science and the Church,” written by a former Roman Catholic priest named Jerome Langford. Langford wrote – and I found this funny, I have to admit – that it was “claimed that Galileo and his followers were attempting to reinterpret the Bible, which was seen as a violation of the Council of Trent and looked dangerously like Protestantism.” (Gasp!!!!) The “reinterpretation of the Bible” revolved around Psalm 93:1, which says that God “has established the world; it shall never be moved.” Therefore, said the church, the earth cannot circle the sun. Instead, everything must circle the earth, because the earth cannot move. It's said that at one of his early appearances before the inquisition, Galileo agreed to recant his theory and said that, in fact, the sun revolved around the earth – but once away from the inquisitors he stamped his foot on the ground and said “and yet it moves” - meaning the earth. The story may be apocryphal, but if Galileo did say it - well – he was right: the earth moves! We know that now. But it was only in 1992 (not quite 25 years ago) that Pope John Paul II admitted that a mistake had been made by the Council that finally condemned Galileo as a heretic. And so the great physicist Stephen Hawking can now write that “In less than a hundred years, we have found a new way to think of ourselves. From sitting at the centre of the universe, we now find ourselves orbiting an average-sized sun, which is just one of millions of stars in our own Milky Way galaxy.” We've come a long way. We have an entirely different way of looking at our world.

     The debate between Galileo and the church of course wasn't really a scientific debate. Galileo proposed a scientific theory that should have been tested, and the church reacted with dismissal because it challenged their worldview. The irony of the thing is that Galileo understood what God had created far better than the church understood what God had created. The worldview of the church shouldn't have anything to do with whether the earth revolves around the sun, and it shouldn't be based on a misuse of a single verse of Scripture such as Psalm 93:1 to condemn someone who challenges it. The worldview of the church should be based on Scripture, and it should reflect our own relationship with the God we've come to know through our lives of faith. And since the God we know is a God who constantly calls us to new ways and to be a new creation – God is the God “who has created and is creating,” after all – then we should be always open to different ways of looking at the world.

     Galatians 6:14 shows us that followers of Christ should have a different way of looking at the world – not from the scientific perspective but from the spiritual perspective. Paul says that he boasts in the cross of Christ. From a worldly perspective, the obvious response to that would be: why? Why boast in the cross? It's an instrument of torture and death, and we're believers and Jesus died on the thing. Why would we boast in the cross? From a worldly perspective it literally makes no sense at all. If you're going to boast, after all, you boast about something postive and uplifting – and usually about something that you've done yourself. But like that scientific debate about whether the earth revolves around the sun or vice versa, it seems to me that the church sometimes forgets the unique perspective it's supposed to bring to issues.

     Of course, we're welcoming our friends from St. Andrews here today and I can't speak with any real knowledge of the Presbyterian Church, so maybe this isn't an issue there – but I have noticed over the years that in the United Church at least we don't boast about the cross of Christ – actually, more often, we have a lot of difficulty talking about the cross of Christ. And I don't think that's just a problem in the United Church. I can say that in the last two pastorates I served before coming here we used to have joint services on Good Friday with our Presbyterian friends, because so many of our regular congregants couldn't be bothered coming to a Good Friday service that we brought both congregations together to try to make at least one of the buildings seem relatively full. Maybe it was because people preferred doing other things on a long weekend – or maybe it was because they knew that a Good Friday service would be about the cross of Christ! And it's an uncomfortable topic for all the reasons I mentioned – and generally speaking we don't want to be uncomfortable in church; we want to be comforted in church. That's the difference between us and Paul, perhaps. Paul knew that the message of Christ could provide great comfort, but he also knew that the message of Christ was more than that. The message of Christ contains a challenge – and that challenge is contained in the cross and what it represents.

     Paul sees the crucifixion as more than just the death of Jesus. He sees it as the beginning of something new and bold. He sees it as a radical turn in God's relationship to the world. God no longer seeks obedience to the law, God now seeks faithfulness to Christ. The cross puts an end to what was – enslavement to the law – and brings a beginning to something else – the freedom of God's grace: freedom not to sin, but to joyfully serve. If we were to read back to Galatians 3:28, we would find Paul's argument that in the community of those who are in Christ there is no longer a distinction between Jew and Greek (or slave or free, or male or female, or, for that matter, probably not even between United and Presbyterian!) All that matters is being in Christ. In the context of this letter the issue was circumcision. Paul had a mission to the Gentiles, who weren't circumcised. He told them they didn't have to be, and then others came after him saying that - no, if they wanted to be Christians they had to be circumcised. Circumcision was a stumbling block that was put in the path of Gentiles who wanted to come to Christ - and we remember, I'm sure, what Jesus said about those who put stumbling blocks in front of people - and circumcision represented the entire Jewish law. Do you have to follow it or not? Paul’s position was clear: the law ended with the crucifixion. The cross put an end to the law - or at least to its power. Paul isn't saying that being circumsized doesn't save a person or that not being circumsized does. He's saying that circumcision – and, by extension, the law - doesn't really matter, because the law cannot save; the law can only condemn by creating lawbreakers. It is Christ crucified who saves; it is Christ crucified who reconciles us to God; it is Christ crucified who changes everything, and the change is what Paul calls a new creation: an utterly new way of life for those in Christ, whose crucifixion makes them right with God and set free to be and to live in a new way.

     Many people don't get that. Christians and non-Christians alike mistake the Christian faith as being only a new and revamped set of rules and regulations designed to make you right with God. But Paul understood that laws and rules and regulations don't make you right with God – they simply condemn you by telling you that you're not right with God. And the church falls into that trap over and over again. We set up the rules, we establish the laws, we decide what others must do or not do or what others must believe or not believe, we take away their Christ-won freedom to approach God themselves and let God speak to them, we turn the church into a place not that celebrates God but rather into a place that condemns sin, and woe to anyone who doesn't buy in – like Galileo, for example, and like many today who still feel condemned by the church rather than welcomed by the church.

     The cross should be a remedy to that, because at the cross everyone is equal and, of course, Christians see the cross differently. For Christians the cross should be positive and uplifting. It's the place where evil was defeated – because, in the end, perhaps the most evil act ever couldn't hold Jesus. So far from being about torture and death, the cross becomes (for Christians) about victory and life. And just as Christians see the cross differently, so should Christians see the world differently – and, because of that, Christians should have a different relationship with the world. We shouldn't be tailoring our message to suit the expectations of the world, we should be proclaiming God's grace in all situations and to all people. How the world (or even those who want Christian faith to be just a new set of rules and regulations and laws) responds to us and to what we believe and to what we proclaim is now immaterial – because “the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.” What I do I no longer do for the world or to please the world, nor do I refuse to do it because of the world, or because the world might disagree. What my faith calls me to do, which is to proclaim and live the gospel (not necessarily in that order) I now do for God. It's of benefit to the world – it is good news for all – but I do it for God. We have new priorities, and a new way of relating to the world and those around us. Because of Christ crucified, we have a different way of looking at the world.

Monday, 27 June 2016

A Thought For The Week Of June 27, 2016

"And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:19) So many people - even among those who consider themselves to be Christians - have trouble it seems in differentiating between wants and needs. Perhaps it has to do with the growth of what's come to be known as the "entitlement society." We just feel as if the world and society owe us something and we should just get it. In fact, even asking is sometimes considered a burden. We should just get what we want. Several years ago I was serving in Newfoundland. I remember watching the news one night. There had been a debate going on in St. John's City Council - it was, I believe, a part of the budget process, and citizens were making statements. One man stood up and said "the government should just give us stuff." And sometimes that's the attitude. I, of course, do believe that the government and society have a responsibility to provide for people's basic needs, but there has to be a difference between needs and wants. It's even more of a struggle when people of faith fall into this trap. For some people God becomes useful only to the extent that God gives us stuff. People will pray to God for flippant things - like winning a lottery - and of course sometimes for important things - like healing - but some of those who pray treat God like a cosmic Santa Claus - one who should give me everything I want, no questions asked. And when they don't get everything they want they give up on God. Which, of course, misses a basic principle of Scripture summed up perfectly in this verse - God supplies our needs, but doesn't just deliver all our wants. No doubt it can sometimes be hard to distinguish between wants and needs. Is healing a want or a need for example? But ultimately, God does supply our needs - and our biggest need, in my opinion, is a sense of security and peace and hope for the future, and, indeed, for eternity. These things God provides in great abundance!

Sunday, 26 June 2016

June 26, 2016 sermon: Sometimes Silence Isn't Golden

He said to me, O mortal, eat what is offered to you; eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel. So I opened my mouth, and he gave me the scroll to eat. He said to me, Mortal, eat this scroll that I give you and fill your stomach with it. Then I ate it; and in my mouth it was as sweet as honey. He said to me: Mortal, go to the house of Israel and speak my very words to them.
(Ezekiel 3:1-4)

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     It's not a biblical proverb, but it is a very old proverb: “silence is golden.” Apparently this proverb may go back to the time of ancient Egypt. Perhaps Pharaoh, dealing with the incessant demand of Moses to “let the people go,” looked at him and said, “Moses, silence is golden,” or whatever the ancient Egyptian version of the proverb was, in an attempt to shut him up. In English, the words “silence is golden” first appeared in a writing by the poet Thomas Carlyle. He actually translated the phrase from a work in German called Sartor Resartus in 1831. In that work, the words are put on the lips of a character who speaks at great length about the virtues of staying silent:

Silence is the element in which great things fashion themselves together; that at length they may emerge, full-formed and majestic, into the daylight of Life, which they are thenceforth to rule. ... Speech is too often ... the art ... of quite stifling and suspending Thought, so that there is none to conceal. Speech too is great, but not the greatest. As the Swiss Inscription says: Sprecfien ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden (Speech is silvern, Silence is golden); or as I might rather express it: Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity."

     Silence does have its virtues. Of that I have no doubt. Silence is sometimes – and perhaps even most often – how we encounter God most powerfully. But silence can also be a way of avoiding tough issues; of staying away from those things that make us squirm. Because of the M&S Service two weeks ago and last Sunday's Father's Day service led by the Men's Group, this is the first Sunday that I've preached since the horrible mass shooting in Orlando, Florida. On the morning that it happened, I had only heard that there had been a shooting in Orlando, and without any of the details I'm sorry to say that my first response was “another one” - a common reaction I admit to the regular cycle of mass shootings in the United States. At church that morning, Ruth Webster offered a prayer for the victims but it wasn't until I got home later in the day that I discovered the details of what had happened. And I wondered – what would I have done or said in church if I had known about it and been leading the service? Probably, I suspect, exactly what Ruth did so well: remember the victims in our prayers and then move on. After all, Orlando is a long way away, and this is Canada – such things don't happen here. But it kept pecking away at me. We should say something. This needs to be addressed in some way. This needs to be spoken about. And I was especially taken with the words of Katherine Clark, a member of the United States House of Representatives from Massachussetts, who refused to take part in a moment of silence on the House floor, and explained her decision this way: “a moment of silence is an empty gesture that accomplishes nothing.” She's right. And staying silent accomplishes even less, perhaps – or may even add to the problem by giving the impression that no one cares. In this case, silence isn't golden. We have to have something to say. The church has to have something to say. The people of God have to have something to say. If we can’t speak out against one of the most horrific acts of hatred ever against an obviously targeted group, then something’s seriously wrong. And then I thought about the Prophet Ezekiel.

     I love the Prophet Ezekiel’s equation of the word of God with honey. I think there’s an important comparison to be made there. Unfortunately, I think most people in the modern world don’t really understand what Ezekiel was saying. We tend to think of honey as simply a sweetener. Sometimes I put it on toast or bagels, or in a cup of tea. And because of that we sometimes interpret Ezekiel’s words to mean that the word of God is simply sweet and pleasant and unchallenging and shouldn’t disturb us too much. It should just make us happy and comfortable. It should be nothing more than a feel-good word. And, yes, Ezekiel does say that the scroll he was given (which would have been a part of the word of God) tasted as sweet as honey. But sweetness wasn’t the only thing that mattered about honey in the ancient world. That image of honey would have brought forth a lot of images in people’s minds in Ezekiel's day. In the ancient world there was something called “mad honey.” It was made by bees from certain types of plants and it would affect the brain and the central nervous system of those who ate it. So it wasn’t uncommon for ancient armies to put enticing looking chunks of mad honeycomb in the path of their enemies – who, after consuming them, would be virtually paralyzed and helpless. Mad honey was also used in small amounts by prophets who would use it essentially to get high, which would enhance their prophetic utterances. (Not that I’m accusing Ezekiel of that!) Setting mad honey aside, regular honey was commonly used as a medicine in the ancient world. It has anti-bacterial properties, so smearing honey on cuts and wounds is actually still a useful thing to do. Raw unprocessed honey was also a major source of nutrition for many people in the ancient world. It’s full of vitamins and minerals, and honeycomb back then was relatively easy to find. The other great thing about honey is that it literally doesn’t spoil. Not long ago archaeologists opened an ancient Egyptian tomb and found honey that was over three thousand years old – and was still edible! So honey had a lot of uses. When Ezekiel makes the connection between the word of God and honey, he’s not simply saying that the word of God is sweet and comforting. He’s saying that it’s challenging; it can defeat the forces arrayed against us; it can push us to speak the word of God; it can strengthen us and heal us; it is eternal and ever-lasting. This is honey and this is the word of God. This is what we need when hatred raises its ugly head.

     If my comments today are inspired by the Orlando shooting, I want to make sure that we don’t become complacent and think that hatred and violence and groups being targeted is just an “American thing.” In 2013 there were 186 hate crimes against the LGBT community recorded by police in Canada, and just in the news over the last few days there was a report of a pig’s head being left at the door of a mosque in Quebec City and of a Muslim woman wearing a hijab who was shopping with her four month old son in London only to suddenly and without provocation be spit upon and punched out by an angry white woman who apparently didn’t care much for Muslims. When people hate and they start to target others because of their hate then the powerful, inspiring, strengthening and eternal word of God needs to confront the haters. And all sorts of groups get targeted in our society. Muslims are called terrorists; gays are called perverts; blacks are carded by police; aboriginals are dismissed as drunks; the poor are blamed for being lazy; women are told they asked for it when they get sexually assaulted. And too often the church stays silent and does nothing except perhaps offer a few prayers for the victims. I’m a big believer in the power of prayer but I think we have to be a lot more outspoken when confronting hatred and when standing alongside those who find themselves targeted by haters. But too often Christians can find ways to avoid that responsibility and to simply stay silent at best because it's the easy thing to do or to encourage the hatred at worst because there are some who warp the teachings of Jesus to serve evil ends.

     It always astonishes me that there are Christians who seem to think that when Jesus said “love your neighbour,” he only meant the neighbours that you like and agree with and get along with. It never ceases to amaze me that there are Christians who seem to think that when Jesus said “love your enemies,” he must have been misquoted. It never ceases to amaze me that after everything Jesus taught about love, and after John wrote in his first letter that “God is love,” there are Christians who seem to believe that those teachings about love give them the right to hate those they disagree with. Jesus must sometimes weep bitter tears when he looks at his church and sees at least some of his people engaging in the most vile acts and speaking the most vicious and hate-filled words. There were preachers after the Orlando shooting who expressed the opinion that the only bad thing that happened was that the shooter didn’t finish the job he had started of mowing down gay people with a semi-automatic rifle. And the infamous Westboro Baptist Church brought their vile message of hatred to Orlando, as they picketed the funerals of some who had been killed, hoping to scream at grieving family members that their loved ones were hated by God and had gone to hell. (Thankfully, those families were shielded from this obnoxious group that shouldn't even be called a “church” by some who chose not to simply be silent.)

     Where does such hatred come from? How does such a warped understanding of the gospel take possession of people’s hearts? It surely comes from hearts that have hardened themselves to the truth of God’s word and to the reality of God’s love to the point at which, in an Orwellian sort of turn, hate becomes love; hate becomes what God is about.

     But it isn’t. God is love. Always. That is not conditional. God is love. And we are to love. Jesus taught love. That was not conditional, either. And real love isn’t easy. We need all of the strength and help of the honey-like word of God that Ezekiel wrote of to enable us to truly love and to encourage us to speak out. After the Orlando shooting, the National Council of Canadian Muslims released a statement that said in part “As Canadians we stand united against violence and discrimination against any human being.” And the Reverend Rob Oliphant, a United Church minister and also a Member of Parliament, said that “Hate has to be met with love.” And the point is that love cannot be silent. Love must be spoken; love must be expressed; love must be acted upon. When we – any of us – see or hear hatred being directed at people we – individually or as a community – need to speak up and speak out, because we we who believe in a God who is love must find ways to actively love those who are the targets of hatred, discrimination, oppression, fear-mongering and violence. And if there are those who don’t like us doing that and who prefer to wallow in either hate or indifference toward the hatred we sometimes see around us – well, that’s tough! We must loosen our tongues and be heard.


     In 1382, John Wyclif translated the Bible into the English of the day for the very first time. His translation of Revelation 8 included the words, “silence is maad in heuen” – meaning in modern English: silence is made in heaven. Perhaps, but this isn't heaven, and the things that happen in the world around us aren't always heavenly. And when those unheavenly things happen, the people of God need to speak up and to speak out and to be heard loud and clear, lest our own faith be drowned out by the voices of hatred that so often surround us.

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

A Thought For The Week Of June 20,2016

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." (Galatians 3:28) What shines through for me from this verse and from the larger passage of which it's a part is the unity of the Christian community. We are all one in Christ Jesus. There is no Jew or Gentile, no slave and free, no male and female. We are all simply in Christ. I don't think that Paul meant that to be an exhaustive list of the divisions that Christ has overcome either. Any opportunity we've discovered that allows us to divide ourselves up has been overcome by Christ. To the above list, we might add rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight. The possibilities are endless, and the point is that if you are in Christ then you are one with Christ and with Christ's people - even though the Christian community might not always do such a good job of bringing people together because we spend far too much time emphasizing our differences. But, ultimately, the divisions that we establish mean nothing in the face of the unity of Christ. This passage is generally linked to baptism, but at least one translation I've come across doesn't use the word baptism, so that rather than being "baptized" into Christ, it refers to those who are "immersed" in Christ. That's a helpful way to think of Christian unity. If we emphasize baptism, then we're giving the impression that the unity of Christ depends on a human ritual. But to speak of being immersed in Christ has a much different connotation. To me, being immersed in Christ implies a surrendering of myself. It suggests that my life is now a part of the life of Jesus - which, for now at least, is being lived out collectively by his followers. All the things that divide us have been submerged into Christ, and Christ is all we're left with. That's a helpful way for me to think of what it means to be "one in Christ Jesus."

Monday, 13 June 2016

A Thought For The Week Of June 13, 2016

"Hatred stirs up conflict, but love covers over all wrongs." (Proverbs 10:12, NIV) The Bible speaks a lot more about love than it does about hate - probably with good reason. I'm writing this the day after the horrible act of hate that took place in Orlando, Florida. The current reports say that 49 people died and more than that were wounded. It's being called either the deadliest mass shooting in American history, or the deadliest terrorist attack in the United States since 9/11. Either way, the shooting was an act of hate - motivated by hatred of the west combined with hatred of the LGBTQ community. And there was certainly some religious motive. The attacker has claimed allegiance to ISIS, and so Islamic extremism played a role in this. Religious extremism is always a problem, and has always been a problem. As Christians, we should remember that the crucifixion of Jesus was motivated at least in part by the religious extremism of the religious leaders of his community who opposed his teachings, and we need to remember that there are also Christian extremists, who have done everything from murder doctors who perform abortions to destroying entire cultures to imposing their agenda on some third world countries which have made homosexuality a crime punishable by death. There's Jewish extremism; there's Sikh extremism; there's Hindu extremism; there's even Buddhist extremism. Extremism arises when we become so convinced of our rightness, our righteousness and our superiority that we feel the right to impose our beliefs on others, and to punish them if they don't accept what we accept. It's no surprise, then, that an extremist group like ISIS targets other Muslims as much as anyone else, because so many Muslims don't agree with their extremist agenda. As I read through the news, I've already seen the inevitable suggestion that "religion" should be banned, because it only leads to hatred. Which isn't true, of course. The vast, vast majority of people of faith (any faith) that I know are loving and peaceful people. But we shouldn't deny that in general terms "religion" does seem by its very nature to breed extremism. But is the answer to give up on our faith? Of course it isn't. "Religion" isn't going to go away. The problem of religious extremism of any kind isn't going to be countered by getting rid of religion, simply because that won't happen. I am a person of Christian faith because I believe in Jesus Christ as the incarnation of God. Neither examples of deranged people killing and hating in the name of Christ or any other religion, nor the arguments that religion is bad because of that, will change that fundamental conviction in my mind. Nor will it change the views of devout Muslims or Hindus or Jews or anyone else. The only real solution is for people of faith - all faiths - to start living by the principles of love that are at the centre of all faiths. We may not agree with each other. We may strongly disagree on many things. But people of all faiths have a common core of love behind their beliefs. In spite of the words of Proverbs 10:12, this love may not cover all wrongs. The hurt and pain inflicted on members of the LGBTQ community by the events in Orlando and by so many others who have been targeted by religious extremists will take a long time to heal, and expressions and acts of love may not be enough. But they are a start. People of faith need to begin living by love rather than talking about love. If the vast, vast majority of people of faith who reject extremism would go that one extra step to actually living in and by love, and be emboldened by that love to openly counter extremism and hatred wherever it appears - that would make a huge difference to the world. Deepest condolences to the victims of Orlando and their families, and to victims of religious violence wherever it rears its ugly head.

Monday, 6 June 2016

A Thought For The Week Of June 6, 2016

"With God’s power working in us, he can do much, much more than anything we can ask or think of." (Ephesians 3:20) I presided at a wedding this past Saturday. This verse (along with v.21) forms the basis of the typical benediction that I use at the end of a wedding service. Having said that, I must confess that I've never really given much thought to how this particular biblical benediction is related to marriage or to weddings. There's no doubt that they make a beautiful benediction that can be used for pretty much any occasion, but there's nothing that is really related directly to weddings. So why do I use it? What is it that at some point in my ministry made me link this benediction with marriage? God, of course, is constantly engaging in the work of creating and re-creating. According to the Bible, that's basically what God does - God creates and God re-creates. God created the universe, God created the world, God created life and God created us. God creates. God does something that we can't do. Certainly, we are creative beings. Surely that's a part of what it means to be created in the image of God. But we are merely creative. God actually creates. We use raw materials to create, but God brings forth from nothing. God created life where there was no life. Perhaps this is what the verse is referring to when it says that God "can do much, much more than anything we can ask or think of." And when we think of creating and re-creating, and of God bringing forth that which did not exist before, isn't that basically what marriage is? Marriage is like the creation of a new life. In marriage, two lives are joined together to create a new life; two people are joined together to be one, even though they remain distinctly two. Here is God's creative power at work. Marriage is the bringing forth of new life, just as surely as new life was brought forth in the creation story of Genesis. God creates. And God re-creates. We are all constantly being re-created; transformed day by day into what God desires us to be. Marriage is one part of that divine creative process at work. The mystical union of two lives to create one life is a reflection of God's ability to "do much, much more than anything we can ask or think of."

Sunday, 5 June 2016

June 5, 2016 sermon: What Glorifies God?

You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus. Then after three years I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas and stayed with him fifteen days; but I did not see any other apostle except James the Lord’s brother. In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie! Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, and I was still unknown by sight to the churches of Judea that are in Christ; they only heard it said, “The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy.” And they glorified God because of me.
 (Galatians 1:13-24

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     He sounds so boastful and full of himself. I've preached from this passage before, and read it countless times, and every time I deal with it that's one of the first things that comes into my mind. Seriously. "They glorified God because of me." What? "Because of me"? Are you serious, Paul? It just sounds like you're maybe a little bit full of yourself. In a way I suppose I could understand it. Paul does seem to have been a pretty impressive figure with a conversion story that beats all conversion stories. In the end, not even Jesus' apostles could turn him away. But still - "they glorified God because of me." It sounds just a little bit arrogant. But then I started to reflect on the words a little bit more. Was Paul really being arrogant, or was he really just teaching the Galatians (and us as well) about what our own priority should be: to glorify God through our works and through our witness. Essentially isn't that what a life of faith is about after all? To glorify God.

     It seems to me that “why? Is a big question for a lot of people. We all ask that question from time to time. Why? Something bad happens, and we ask “why?” Things don't turn out the way we want them to or the way we think they should and we ask, “why?” “Why?” is a question that traps us and holds us hostage because more often than not there's no answer to it. In fact, more often than not I think we ask the “why?” question because we know that there's no answer. It's often an expression of frustration more than faith; anger more than devotion. But sometimes the “why?” question can be a productive one as well. I like to think of it as a challenge question; as a question that pushes us to reflect more deeply. In fact, I believe that people misunderstand and misinterpret Scripture because they approach Scripture with the wrong question in mind. Some people want the Bible to function as a history book, answering the question of what happened and when it happened. Others want to Bible to serve as a science textbook, answering the question of how things happened. Either way, we then have to force the Bible into strange sizes and shapes to try to make it answer questions that it's not really addressing in the first place. The Bible – and our faith in general – doesn't really address the questions of what happened, or when things happened or how things happened. The Bible is a “why?” kind of book. The Bible goes deeper than history or science. The Bible addresses purpose. Why are we here? What are we called to do? These are the real questions of our faith when everything is boiled down to its essence. God created us – but why? What was the point? Do our lives mean more than just the relatively few years (speaking in cosmic terms) that we draw air into our lungs? That's the issue for people of faith. Why? Our “why” question isn't a lament or a complaint. Our “why” question is a quest for meaning and a search for purpose.

     Almost 400 years ago the Church of England tried to answer that “why?” question with what’s now known as the Westminster Confession. The first question and answer of the Cathechism based on that confession, in the dated language of that era, is to the point: “What is the chief end of man? Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.” To put it in more modern and accessible language, we might today say, “What is the main purpose of humanity? Humanity’s main purpose is to glorify God and to rejoice in God forever!” Either way, the point is to glorify God. Paul said in our reading today that the Christians of Galatia “glorified God because of me.” Perhaps he wasn’t being arrogant. Perhaps he was trying to set an example for the Galatians of what a life of faith would look like – any life of faith (Paul’s or anyone else’s) should glorify God.

     No. I don’t think Paul was trying to brag about himself. Paul gets a bit of a bad rap in the church today. People read some of what he wrote about women or homosexuals and they think he was anti-woman or anti-gay, but they don’t understand the historical context of his writing. In fact, Paul was a pretty egalitarian type of guy. And in this case I really don’t think he’s boasting. He’s simply proclaiming the truth about a fundamental change that’s happened in his life – a change so extraordinary and so unexpected to everyone (including himself) that it had to have come about because of God’s intervention in his life. The one who once persecuted the faithful now proclaims that very faith. The one who once depended on earthly credentials as justification for persecuting the church now claimed only the call of God as reason to preach the gospel. The very fact that Paul was preaching in Galatia said something. By earthly standards he didn’t belong in Galatia. By all rights he should have stayed in Jerusalem with the other apostles. Do you remember the theme song from the old TV show “The Beverly Hillbillies”? It said, in part, “Well, the first thing you know old Jed’s a millionaire, the kinfolk said, ‘Jed, move away from there.’ They said “Californy is the place you oughta be.’ So they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly.” Why did Jed’s kinfolk tell him to move to California? Because he was now rich. He didn’t belong in the backwoods of the Appalachian Mountains. He should be surrounded by other rich people. But Jed never really fit in California - and Paul didn’t really belong in Galatia. It was a bit of a backwater. He was a learned man with impeccable credentials. He should have been hobnobbing with the apostles in Jerusalem! But he followed God – and however boastful “they glorified God because of me” might sound to our ears, the truth is that they were glorifying God simply because this man – who could have been doing something much more impressive by earthly standards – had given up a comfortable life for the uncertainties of following God – and if there’s one thing that people of faith should know, God doesn’t always call us to comfort.

     So, I wondered: what actually glorifies God? Well, I’m familiar with an old gospel song that includes the words “seek not ease nor the approval of men.” The language again is dated, but the point is pretty clear. It seems to me that our lives glorify God when we stop seeking credit or glory for ourselves. It seems to me that our lives glorify God when we do the unexpected - things no one else would expect us to do – because we’re convinced that God is calling us to do them. What glorifies God is when we allow our faith to change the very direction of our lives, and when we are transformed from what we were into that new creation that God calls us to be. What glorifies God is not seeking the approval of others but rather giving oneself for others. What glorifies God is when we seek not to be puffed up with pride but to be emptied in humble service. What glorifies God is when we choose not to turn away from those who are otherwise excluded or oppressed or looked down upon but rather to embrace them and welcome them as part of the family.

     We are reminded of that truth every time we approach the table and find ourselves welcomed – sometimes in spite of ourselves. In prayer, Jesus said to his Father in John 17, just before his crucifixion, that “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.” Whatever work God has given to each of us to do, may we also glorify God by finishing it, and may our approach to the table this morning truly be a time in which we remember Jesus by re-committing ourselves anew to glorifying God through the humble service we offer.