Sunday, January 29, 2017

January 29, 2017 - Epiphany 4A


In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            In Ephesians, Paul writes “by grace you have been saved.” The Epistle of James states that “So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” And therein you can see the foundation being laid for the debate over what faith is all about. Are we saved by Christ’s faithfulness, regardless of our own thoughts and practices? Are we saved by thinking the right things? Are we saved by doing the right things and not doing the wrong things? It’s the classic case of grace and works.

            To put this question into more tangible terms, can salvation come to someone who has never heard of God or has rejected God, but has lived a moral, generous, and compassionate life? Can someone who has been Baptized and is regular in church attendance get away with lying, stealing, and violence? Put another way, is faith something that we think, or something that we do? Yes, it is. It’s a false dichotomy. God’s grace is not in competition with our actions. Faith and works are not in opposition to each other. Faith is about all of our lives – our words and deeds. We can’t be saved through our deeds, nor will our faith ever be real if it remains but the figment of our imagination.
            Faith is always incarnate, as it is the intersection of our intellect and our action. True faith changes us, and so there will always be things that we do and say because of our faith. And if we don’t do those things, it probably is right to question whether or not faith is at work. Instead of thinking in terms of “are you saved,” I’d much prefer us to think in terms of “How are you being transformed in Christ?” Faith is an going process. Faith is about God’s grace towards us, while at the same time faith is also about the way in which this grace transforms us and becomes manifest in our thoughts, words, and actions.
            Rather than a dichotomy of grace and works which sets up an artificial contest between the two, it’s more helpful to think of a duality of grace and works, realizing that both are a part of the equation, and the equation will be unbalanced if either is missing. When our reading from Matthew and Micah are put in dialogue with each other, we see how both God’s grace, which is unearned, is central to our faith, as well as the transformation of our lives.
            Our reading from Matthew this morning is one of the better known passages from any of the gospels. We call these verses the “Beatitudes” because in Latin, “blessed” is beatitudo. These sayings of Jesus commence his first public teaching, in a larger speech called “The Sermon on the Mount.” It’s not accidental that Jesus’ first public teaching isn’t about rallying the troops, giving an overview of the plan, or telling King Herod that he’s coming for him. Rather, Jesus begins with a rebuke to those who think that following him will be easy or pleasant.
            The Beatitudes are not instructions about how to live or requirements for following Jesus. That’s not how Jesus meant those words, and it has not been the tradition of the Church to interpret the words that way. Rather, the Beatitudes are a statement of God’s solidarity with us. They tell us that God is with us. They remind us that God blesses us at the outset, there is nothing to earn. And if we don’t have to earn God’s love or favor, then it also means that we can never lose those things.
Generally, when you are poor in spirit, in mourning, are meek, or are persecuted, you might be described as weak or as being a loser. Even today, we tend to think of blessings as signs of divine favor and approval. So those in poverty are seen as morally suspect and those with gainful employment are seen as “having done something right.” But Jesus’ first words make it clear that this isn’t how God operates, and that’s not what his ministry is based on. Success isn’t going to be measured by wealth, by power, or by winning. The very first word that Jesus speaks in his initial teaching is “blessed.” It is a reminder that you are already sufficient. You don’t have to earn God’s favor or love.
The Beatitudes tell us and remind us that God blesses, not on the basis of our actions or merits, but on the basis of God’s unconditional love and solidarity with us. That is the first part of the duality of our faith – that our faith is built upon God’s action toward us, and there is nothing that we need to do in order to receive it, deserve it, or keep it. There are no conditions put on God’s ability to bless, redeem, or save. That being said, when God’s grace becomes rooted in our lives, it necessarily changes us. It’s not that knowledge about God changes us, it’s not that thinking certain things or holding particular opinions transforms us, it’s not that pouring water on someone makes God decide to love and accept them. But it is when God’s grace is firmly planted within us that transformation happens. But just like a seed, faith must be nurtured.
This is why coming to church regularly is so important, why reading Scripture is crucial, why prayer is vital, why doing justice is central, why having a community of faith is indispensable – these things all nurture the seeds of God’s grace which are planted in us all. In Baptism, God’s transforming grace is put in us. Baptism unites us to Christ’s Death and Resurrection. The goal though isn’t to have just a seed of faith, but to be as fruitful as possible. When God’s grace is planted within us, a valid question is “How has God’s grace transformed your life?” In this season of Epiphany, it’s a question of how the love, mercy, and grace of God is manifest in your life. Just as we turned to Matthew to consider how it is that God is the initiator of grace, we turn to Micah to consider how it is that our transformation is the response to this grace.
The Prophet Micah says “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.” It’s a very famous Biblical passage, and the context really is fascinating. As it was read this morning, I hope that you had the “Law and Order” theme in your head, because this passage is a courtroom drama. The Lord says “rise and plead your case.” We’ve been indicted of crime against God. God instructs the mountains to be the jury, as the Lord has a suit to bring against us.
In the opening argument, God says “O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me!” Though, before we’re given a chance to answer, God, rather sarcastically, responds by listing the so-called “offences” that God has done to us – saving us from Egypt, giving us Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, and saving us from other nations. By now, we realize that we have no rebuttal. We become aware of God’s grace – how God has created us, redeemed us, and sustains us. We are guilty as charged – God has blessed us and graced us, and yet that grace is not evident in our lives.
Micah posits our reply: “With what shall I come before the Lord?” In other words, how do we make amends for this? Oh, I know. How about the perfect offering, a year old calf. No, no, even better, how about a thousand rams, that’s my entire farm. Ooh, even better, how about ten thousand rivers of oil, what else could show my remorse and the transformation of my soul. Oh, I don’t like it, but I’ll even sacrifice my firstborn child, O Lord, won’t that show my commitment to you?
It’s worth pointing out that some of the kings of Israel had been doing just that. Child sacrifice was something that they tried in order to make amends for their sins. God never asked for that, but the people thought that it might work, so they tried it.
Micah doesn’t tell us who speaks next, but we assume it is the mountains, who are serving as the jury for this case. They say to us “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” In other words, God isn’t asking for a child sacrifice, God has no need for rivers of oil, the transformation that God seeks for us isn’t a heap of sacrificed goats. No, rather the fruit of God’s grace in us is justice, mercy, and devotion. That last phrase “walk humbly with God” really is an uncertain translation. That word isn’t used anywhere else in the Bible, so it’s hard to know exactly what Micah meant. But scholars tell us that based on other languages that are related to Hebrew, that it means something like “intentionally” or “deliberately.” The sense is that our actions are to be consistent with the one with whom we walk, God.
The result of this divine courtroom drama is clear – God expects that there will be a response of transformation to God’s grace and favor towards us. The Beatitudes in Matthew show us God’s saving grace towards us and Micah conveys the intended manifestation of that grace in our lives. There is grace and then there is transformation. That might be a working definition for what a Sacrament is. Our Book of Common Prayer defines a Sacrament as an “outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.”
This is what Baptism is all about – both a reminder of God’s grace that is always with us and a catalyst for transformation and growth in Christ. As we prepare the water for Baptism, we will hear of the ways in which God has saved and sustained us through the generations. We did nothing to earn our creation or salvation, rather it was given to us as grace. And yet this grace summons a response from us. In the Baptismal Covenant, we are called upon to live transformed lives by stating our intention to resist evil, be faithful in worship, seek and serve Christ in all people, and strive the justice and dignity of all people. Just as there is a “both-and” included in faith being about both faith and action, so too is there a duality in Baptism. Baptism both bestows both a blessing and also expects a response.
Our Episcopal tradition and heritage is well suited to approach to faith. Our theology is comfortable with an array of meanings around Sacraments and faith. Anglican theology is incarnational, meaning it is about lived experience. And so, it is quite possible, and plausible, that faith is first and foremost about what God has done for us. We call this grace. And at the same time, faith is also about our response to and growth in that faith. We call this discipleship or transformation. Grace and works don’t need to be in competition with each other, rather they can both be allowed to be a part of God’s blessing upon us. For those of us who have been Baptized, may we continue to know of God’s constant love for us and continue our work of growing into the full stature of Christ. For those who will be Baptized in just a few moments, may God’s grace be poured about abundantly on them today, that they continue forever in God’s grace. Amen.