A second Sunday in our summer Sundays “home away from home” here at the
Hicks Memorial Chapel of the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. It is good to be here, to continue to enjoy
the neighborly hospitality of our PTS friends, and to have this sacramental
opportunity to read scripture and sing and pray together. Checking the latest photos
of our church renovations out in the entry, and with the prayer that as
wonderful old St. Andrew’s is being renewed this summer, beginning with the new
floor in the nave and the accessible passageway from the North Transept to the
Parish House, so we also might with open eyes and ears and minds and hearts
also find this a season of personal and corporate renewal and
transformation.
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And to say again this
week, thank you for coming to this service in this new place, and as we move on
into the days of summer, may this be a season of blessings and refreshment.
Last week we listened to St. Paul in the opening sentences
of his letter to the Galatian churches.
And you’ll remember I wanted to post up as a guiding thematic lead the
quotation attributed to Steven Covey, who wrote “The Seven Habits of Highly
Effective People.” This great line, certainly memorable: The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. In this context Paul concerned that the
message he had proclaimed to these new Christians about Jesus was being diluted
and even undermined by people who were promoting the view that in addition to
having faith in and loyalty to Christ these gentile Christians of Asia Minor also
needed to observe the ceremonies and rituals of Judaism. Circumcision.
Kosher dietary laws, the Sabbath, and so on. With the idea I guess that the better you got
at these observances, the more deserving you would be of God’s grace. What you need in order to be “first class”
Christians.
This idea Paul absolutely opposes.
He calls it an effort to “pervert the gospel of Christ,” turning to a
“different gospel.” And in the
following section this morning we can see that he uses his own life story as an
example. Describing himself as “advanced
in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age,” and “zealous for the
tradition of my ancestors.” And then
giving an account of how all of that had made him not a friend of God, but an
enemy, “violently persecuting the church of God.” Until that great moment that we call the
“Road to Damascus” moment. Paul had no
desire to know Christ. He wasn't seeking
him in the scriptures, praying for illumination. Quite the opposite. And
yet out there on that highway while he was burning with fury as God’s enemy,
Jesus came to meet him, to address him by name.
To "knock him off his horse" and set him in a new direction. To reveal to him the reality of God’s
presence and power and the purpose of his own life, his vocation. “Through his grace” he “was pleased to reveal
his Son to me.”
I like the J.B. Phillips translation of Paul from the third chapter of
the Letter to the Philippians, written to another church on a similar topic of concern: “Yet every advantage that I had gained I considered lost for Christ’s
sake. Yes, and I look upon everything as loss compared with the overwhelming
gain of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord. For his sake I did in actual fact suffer
the loss of everything, but I considered it useless rubbish compared with being
able to win Christ. For now my place is in him, and I am not dependent upon any
of the self-achieved righteousness of the Law. God has given me that genuine
righteousness which comes from faith in Christ.”
The richness of this
contrast. “The overwhelming gain of
knowing Jesus Christ my Lord.” And every
other claim to holiness, righteousness, spiritual authority, religious prestige.
All his theological education, his zeal
for good works. “Useless rubbish.” And for these brand new Christians of the
Galatian churches, vulnerable, easy to be diverted. Led astray. To be led not deeper into a life-giving relationship
with Christ, but instead into these complicated rites and ceremonies that give
the illusion of spirituality and holiness and righteousness while in reality leading away
from the one thing the Spirit has truly to give. The life of Jesus, his death, his one
oblation of himself, once offered. The
Cross. The empty tomb. The Spirit’s invitation to the New Creation.
Last week at the beginning
of Luke 7 we saw the slave of the Roman centurion restored to health so far as
we can tell even before he ever had heard of Jesus. This morning, the mother of that dead young
man is marching with her tears in the sad parade of mourners to the cemetery,
when a stranger steps out of the crowd and says “weep no more,” and brings her
son to life again. She didn't even ask. His love comes first.
There is just something very
seductive for us about the image of the spiritual quest. Climbing toward the mountaintop. Working our way into God’s presence. Perhaps it gives us a sense of control.
But again, Paul in
Romans, in the very familiar passage. “While we were yet lost in our
sin, Christ died for us” Pure gift. To keep that fresh, in our minds, our
hearts. Emphasize that for us on this
summer Sunday. Again, if we love him, as we do if we're here this morning. Which is why we are here this morning. We love
him because he first loved us.
The words of the Psalm: You
have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sack-cloth and clothed
me with joy. Therefore my heart sings to
you without ceasing; O Lord my God, I will give you thanks for ever.
The main thing is to keep the
main thing the main thing. Christian
life not about the one whom we find
in our imagined journey up to some mountaintop, but about the one who finds us as we are wandering lost in the dark of night. This is his nature. The angel said, you shall call his name Emmanuel, which means God with
us.” Remember what we read together way
last Christmas Eve with those flickering midnight candles all around: “In him
was life, and the life was the light of men.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome
it.” About that great moment of
amazement, gratitude, relief. All those
things I used to think were so important fade into nothing. I once was lost, but now am found, was
blind, but now I see.
Speaking of Christmas Eve and Emmanuel, and just as a parting note as
we prepare for communion, perhaps you've noticed that during December our
friends down Hampton Street at St. Raphael’s in Morningside have a big sign out
in front of their church right next to the nativity scene that says, “Jesus is
the reason for the season.” Always a
good reminder in December, with the deluge of seasonal customs and festivities,
holiday parties and reindeer and all the rest.
But we might think about how great it would be to leave that sign up
all year round. Never not a good
reminder. The reason for the season, Jesus, the
main thing, summer and fall, winter and spring.
Why we’re here on this summer Sunday morning.
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