Freedom, Truth, and Luther

 Jeremiah 31:31-34; Romans 3:19-28; John 8:31-36

There is a television program called “This is Us” which has become quite popular in the past couple of years, but until recently I had never watched any of its episodes. Lately, however, curiosity has had me watching the first couple of seasons through a streaming app. This week I watched an episode in which one of the characters talks about the first time he got glasses with corrective lenses in them.

Before he could get the glasses of course, came the exam with what he calls the “Better Machine.”

Anyone who has had optical refraction is familiar with that machine. (Refraction is what they call it when they check to see how much – or how little correction your eyes might need to attain your best possible vision).

So, the “best machine” is the one where the doctor or optical technician flicks through combinations of varying strengths of lenses on a machine that you look through to read the chart on the wall. As lenses are changed, the patient is asked over and over, “Which is better, one or two?” click, click, “now which is better – one or two?” click, click, “two or one?”

The patient goes through a series of trial lenses in this way, while the world goes from blurry to clear and back to blurry again, until you finally arrive at the combination that provides the best correction you can attain to see the world.

I remember walking out of the optician’s office with my first pair of glasses when I was in fourth or fifth grade. I was amazed that the grassy lawn contained millions of individual blades of grass – and was not just the sea of green I had become accustomed to seeing. That’s what I remember most of that first step out into a vision-corrected world – individual blades of grass.

Today we commemorate Reformation Sunday, when we remember with gratitude the work of Martin Luther and the rest of the reformers, who gave us a clearer vision of God’s grace through their work with the Scriptures. We celebrate how, through the Reformation, our faith came to contain millions of beautiful blades of grass as we see God’s presence throughout our world, no longer a simple one-or-two-dimensional sea of green.

Luther and his friends never intended to split the church, or to create a new denomination in the Christian faith. They simply wished to share with the masses what they, through the power of the Holy Spirit, had come to understand more clearly; that what God has done in Jesus Christ, on the cross, is to pour our grace sufficient for new life for us all.

They wanted to devise better ways to teach the faithful that God’s unmerited, perfect grace is already accomplished for us all. They were, in a lot of ways, like the “better machine.”

They kept writing, studying, arguing and debating with each so that they could best understand and then convey the truth of Christ’s Word that is life-giving and not oppressive, as Jesus himself is life-giving and liberating.

In so doing, they looked through a variety of lenses and asked the question over and over, “which is clearer, one or two? two or one”? As they worked, their vision went from blurry to clear, back to blurry again, and then clearer than ever before, through reading Scriptures like those ones we just read.

Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you keep on living in my truth, you are really, truly my disciples; and you will know the Truth, and the Truth will make you free.”

The disciples answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone.”

Somehow, I don’t think the disciple are on the same page as Jesus.

·         Jesus is speaking of spiritual truth; of eternal truth; of divine truth. This is the truth that will outlive every human-constructed world or cultural reality. He is speaking of truth and freedom as infinite possibilities that are known only through him – through God’s almighty grace.

·         They are relying on the finite history and stories of the path trod by their ancestors.

·         Jesus is the embodiment of God’s love and mercy to all the fallen world, but despite having recently declared that they believe he is the Messiah, they still identify themselves through their traditional Jewish heritage, where their identity is found in Abraham, the father of the faith. The trouble is, in this way they give their association with Abraham priority over their relationship with Jesus.

·         Jesus challenges them to own their new identity as Christ-followers, saved now by God’s grace apart from any Law that has bound them in the past, but they worry that he is equating them with slaves.

·         They associate freedom with the physical removal of the shackles of enslavement in Egypt, while Jesus is talking about a much more profound and lasting liberation, where the heart itself is set free from that which binds it so that it can grow in the new, unalienable life that God gives us.

As Lutherans commemorate the Reformation, we remember that freedom was a crucial element in faith for Luther and the other Reformers. The big question they were driven to answer was, where and how are truth, freedom, and new life to be found? What is the truth about our salvation? What is necessary for eternal life?

Those questions burned for those who live in the Middle Ages of Luther’s world. There was an urgency to such understanding that is lost to those of us living in the 21^st century.

          Their world was dark and dangerous, with death from plague, starvation, disease and poverty literally just around the corner in a way that we comfortable Americans cannot fathom; life was beyond hard.

          The desperate hope and desire of the people therefore, was that the life that awaited them when they departed this mortal coil would be better than the one they traveled in this life.  They were desperate to know that they and the loved ones who had passed on before them would not languish in a continual cycle of suffering, but that they had believed correctly or done enough or lived a sufficiently good life to be assured that they were heaven-bound. They desperately needed the assurance that God would judge them worthy of a sweet eternal life after this world of infernal suffering.

As the reformers studied and debated the Scriptures together, the core belief that God’s Word of forgiveness and grace won through the cross of Christ alone as the ultimate power to save us, became their battle cry against the forces of darkness.

They were convinced that this essential truth had been lost in the medieval pietistic teachings and indulgences of the church of their time. Determined to share the Word that only belief in Jesus Christ could save, that only God’s grace could save, and that on the cross, God’s determination of salvation was accomplished for the whole world, they turned to passage like the ones we read today.

This Word of God has the authority to grant perfect vision to all people by conveying to us the truth and light of God’s steadfast love and mercy for all God’s creation.

The world today may be different from that of the reformers of over 500 years ago. Faith is no longer deemed as essential to life as it used to be. The conviction that our salvation comes from God alone has been lost to the masses – even the need for salvation by Christ is questioned by so many people around us.

The thing that hasn’t changed is that there is still vast suffering in the world. The past week has exemplified this truth: children senselessly die and people are maimed in car accidents, bombs sent through mail terrorize us, faithful worshipers and first responders are gunned down in a worship place – a synagogue; millions of children suffer the evil and pain of starvation in a war-torn land, and gang violence drives thousands from their homes to seek the refuge which just a few of them will receive in time. There are times when the dimness of our vision may be fueled by our despair and hopelessness.

Yet, here we gather today, by the will of the Holy Spirit. Together we confess the faith of our baptism, the same faith that four young people will affirm during the Rite of Confirmation.

We are so much like the disciples – while we may not locate our identity in Abraham any longer, our faith and our trust in Jesus’ words still need to be clarified so that our vision of God’s grace might be renewed, and we might be freed to live in the light of Christ.

The lenses our world offers us can blur our vision. But God restores it. As Lutherans we confess that we are at the same time sinner (by our response to the temptations and pull of the world) and saint (by the sweet gift of God’s grace).

We are not saved by our own understanding but by the mercy of a God who loves us so much that despite our blurry understanding, despite our indistinct vision of grace, despite our frequent blindness, God forgives us and renews us over and over again for the sake of Jesus Christ.

Jesus makes it possible for us to grasp the new life we are given at baptism – the new life our confirmands claim as their own this day.

And so today and every day, let us offer our thanks and praise to God for the “better machine” of our faith – for the corrective lenses that give us not perfect faith or perfect life – only God can to that – but the best vision of which we are capable, until that day when God perfectly restores our vision and our understanding with the fine heavenly vision given all the saints in light. Amen.

Expect the Unexpected

Isaiah 11:1-10 ~ Advent II ~ December 8, 2013

 “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”

The Lord sent to Isaiah a vision. And in this vision, what Isaiah saw was a stump - a dead, decaying stump, or perhaps a hardened, petrified stump, but either way, once a glorious tree, this stump has lain for years, hard, utterly dead, utterly lifeless – for a generation, in fact. Once, this stump formed the trunk and foundation for a huge, beautiful and strong tree. The tree was powerful. It provided shelter and food and pleasures for the people who rested under it, who lived under it, and depended on it. Under kings like David and Solomon this tree had thrived.

Once, the people for whom Isaiah writes, the people of Israel, were a proud, strong, vital people. They were people of promise. They were powerful, confident, and sheltered under the mighty arm of their king. That was a glorious time. But that was before. That was before the mighty tree faltered and was infected by disease that grew from within, disease that corrupted it and weakened it, leaving it vulnerable to assaults from without. And then it had been cut down; and now all that remains is this useless piece of wood – this old stump, and those glorious years and stories of grandeur are but rings upon its surface.

Isaiah writes of the stump, all that is left of Israel, the former envy of the nations, now lifeless. Its temple lies in ruin, the best and the brightest of its people exiled to Babylon where they languish, the rest in slavery from the occupying forces. Her people live in despair and darkness and hopelessness. But this is not the end of Isaiah’s image; Isaiah brings a new word, sent by God, that this is not the end of Israel’s story. Look!

The prophet describes a vision in which the unimaginable happens. Out of that lifeless stump sprouts the unexpected, unmistakable sign of new life - a green shoot appears. Out of the hopelessly bound roots, a branch springs forth and it grows. “How can it be?” we ask.

Can you see it? Can you see the green shoot coming from the stump where nothing could have been expected to come? Where nothing should have grown??

This shoot is small. It is surprising. And with the news of its advent, Isaiah gives us a new image, the image of a kingdom in which death and hopelessness and despair are transformed by hope, through the promise of a messiah who is powerful and steadfast, who will usher in a new reality for God’s creation.

Here is another image, like the first. It is the photo of a hard, impenetrable, cold rock face. From the angle of the picture, it looks like it might be the side of a mountain or cliff, surely an inhospitable place. Surely, this rock, wherever it is, is not a place for life of any kind to take root and grow. And yet look at what has not only sprung forth, but has even thrived, obviously existing and growing for many seasons out of ­­­that rock, because it is more than just a sapling. Surely, the first shoot, then the branch, and now that tree should not have been able to grow there.

I’m sure there are scientific explanations for how it might be that something like a tree can possibly grow in this place where it should not, or a shoot spring forth from a long-dead stump. But it doesn’t matter. It is still a miraculous thing that has happened. What Isaiah saw and the reality he names is that while you would never expect such a thing to happen, it indeed does happen. Isaiah receives this vision from God and he tells those people who have been living and dying and waiting in exile for oh so long, “God has spoken” - expect the unexpected; expect new life to spring up where you never would have thought that could happen.

It seems to me that these are words that mean something to us today as well, we who are still waiting for peace, who are still waiting for relief from sorrow and pain and warfare, we who are still waiting for the glory of the Lord to appear - “expect the unexpected” – for new life will come for you as well. And suddenly, there is reason to hope, because if we take a look around us, we find sign-posts of God doing the unexpected, the surprising, the inexplicable.

We all probably have stories that we could relate here. I wonder where have you seen new life springing from unexpected seemingly impossible places?

I saw it this week in the story of Harrison Odjegba Okene, where new life came at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Okene was a cook on a tugboat serving the Nigerian oil-fields when suddenly, without warning, the tugboat flipped over, trapping Okene in a small air pocket of the submerged vessel in 100 feet of water. The other 11 seamen aboard the boat died, and indeed it was believed that all had perished. So it was that three days later divers were recovering the bodies of the seamen, when suddenly, as one of those divers grabbed the hand of one of the victims, the hand grabbed him back! Okene had been waiting for three long days, hoping and praying for a miracle, expecting and waiting for death. He never really expected to be rescued and the divers certainly never expected to find anyone alive. How could anyone survive in that frigid, unforgiving water, trapped in that watery tomb, 100 feet under the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, quickly running out of oxygen? And yet, it happened.

This week the world observed the passing of Nelson Mandela, a man who believed in this vision of a peaceable kingdom, even in his homeland, which bore the inhospitable stump of racism, poverty and inequality under the policies of apartheid. During 27 long, desert years of imprisonment, Mandela clung to the shoot of hope for a better future for his country. And after he was freed he worked tirelessly to bring about positive change in his country, and he taught the world something about giving peace a chance.

It has long been understood that people cannot live without hope. Words and visions of hope held the people of Israel up through the long, long years of captivity and slavery. Today, now, in this season of Advent, these words from Isaiah urge us not only to expect the unexpected, but they serve as an invitation for us to hope, as well.

The seed of hope that sprouted from the stump began as something small. It was hidden within the stump where it germinated and grew until it burst forth out of that dead stump. It was surprising to see it coming forth from a place seemingly devoid of life. It began as something fragile, but it was tenacious and stubborn and it grew and as it grew it got stronger and stronger.

That is how God’s Advent word comes to us in this text today. It reminds us that our God is a hope-inducing God who has promised great things for us, because God delights in taking that which is broken and lifeless and breathing new life into it. This same God delights also in surprising us.

These words reveal the good news of a future where eternal life-giving things, like love, and peace, and justice, and reconciliation, and healing, and joy will be a reality for all of us, breaking through the hardness of our disbelief where faith sits, germinating within our hearts. We need this word of hope, we need to see what Isaiah saw in these seemingly impossible pairings – the wolf and the lamb, the leopard and the kid, the calf and the lion, all at peace with one another and led by a little child.

There are times when an accident or diagnosis turns our world upside down and leaves us gasping for air. When hope seems cut off. Relationships falter and fail. There may be times when work concerns or family concerns overwhelm us. There may be times when we yearn for the age a long time ago when the tree flourished, and we despair of ever realizing the promise of Isaiah for the coming of the peaceable kingdom, where these beautiful words express more than images on a page but instead describe the reality of peace, equity, justice, harmony, and mercy.

Isaiah’s image of the stump and our image of the rock invite us to embrace the hope of Advent. God sent Isaiah a vision, with images that brought hope and comfort to a people in exile. God sent to us a savior, through whose life, death and resurrection God defeated death once and for all and through whom we receive grace upon grace upon grace, ensuring our hope is not in vain. Hope inspired Mary and Joseph to believe that God’s plan included them in a way that was unexpected, unimaginable, and demanded trust and faith that in God what was seemingly impossible would come to pass.

By the power of the spirit, hope grows in the hearts of people who are told that they can never be “good enough”; or that no one could survive three days in a watery grave at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean; or that a life sentence in prison is sure to silence one who imagines a better world and speaks out against the powers of oppression and injustice.

Hope grows in every circumstance where faith longs to break through the hardness of our disbelief and makes room for a future where expecting the unexpected is the norm, where God will prevail in all the earth, and where God’s vision of peace and harmony in all creation is a reality.  

Let us pray. God grant us the vision to see your spirit at work all around us, granting us hope, strengthening our faith, and causing new life to spring forth in the most unexpected of places, especially the dead places all around. Open our eyes, soften our hearts, and instill in us the knowledge of the Lord that brings peace, harmony, justice and mercy.

Amen.