In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
You’ve probably heard the advice “dress for success” or “dress for the job you want.” And that’s generally good advice. While clothes don’t make the man, or woman, they do have an impact. I remember when I was a kid, when I would wear my Ken Griffey, Jr. baseball jersey, it seemed as if I was more confident as I stepped up to the plate than when I wore a regular t-shirt. What we wear does send a message – it sends a message to the world about how we present ourselves and it sends a message to ourselves, as clothing is an extension of ours self-image and priorities.
Though we might not think of the tunic-wearing St. Paul as an expert on fashion, he understands the importance of what we wear. Here in the 13th chapter of Romans, Paul is moving towards the conclusion of this letter and as he does so, he moves from abstract theological ideas to concrete exhortations about Christian living. And he writes “Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” When he writes “lay aside,” it could, perhaps, more effectively be translated as “take off.” Paul concludes this section by saying “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” What we wear matters, and putting on Christ is central to Paul’s message.
Before he gets to this metaphor of clothing though, Paul writes about the importance of love saying “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” But that verb, “to owe,” seems like a rather strange one to use. When we talk about love, rarely do we talk about “owing” love to anyone. Rather we speak about showing love, or acting lovingly, or spreading love. To get what’s going on in Paul’s mind, we have to back up just a few verses.
You’ll notice that our reading today started at verse 8 of chapter 13, and what happens in those first 7 verses is important. Chapter 13 begins with “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities.” The lectionary, understandably, doesn’t want preachers to fall into the trap of dealing with the complexities and implications for such a statement. Then a few verses later, Paul writes “For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants.” Pay your taxes or not, I’m not getting into that; but do, please, pay your pledge.
But then in the verse right before today’s reading begins, Paul writes “Pay to all what is due them- taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due.” And that’s the key to understanding why love is something that we owe one another. There’s a difference between paying and owing. When Paul says that we are to pay taxes, revenue, respect, or honor, the word “pay” means to “return,” “give back,” or “render.” When you pay people for things or you pay them respect, it’s a transaction, and once you’ve paid, you’re settled up. There’s no on-going relationship required. But owing is different.
When you owe something it means that you’re indebted to someone, that you’re bound to each other, that there is an on-going relationship of mutuality. Paul is helping us to think through the ways we are to live with each other. So sure, we have to give respect to the governing authorities, but we don’t owe them a thing. We may have to pay taxes to the Emperor, but the Empire doesn’t own us. Rather, the only debt that we have, the only obligation that is never paid-off is that of loving each other.
This difference between rendering payment and being bound to each other in love is crucial for Paul, and us as his readers. Love is not a noun, not something that is traded for favors or given. Love isn’t currency because there’s no limit to how much love there can be in circulation. Though we often refer to love as an emotion, Christian love is not something you feel, rather it is something that you do. When we say “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” we don’t mean “God had warm fuzzies towards humanity;” no, we mean that God came, lived, and died out of love for the world. This is why love is not something to be given, but rather is a debt that is owed. For Paul, it’s a debt that will never be fully paid-off, as love is the work of a lifetime.
But this is also a very liberating sort of debt because it’s the only thing you owe. If you’re a workaholic, you don’t owe your life to your job. If you worry about your reputation, you don’t owe what others think of you your anxiety. If you worry about having enough, you don’t owe your fear all of your waking focus. You don’t owe your attention to your phone, you don’t owe your rage to politics, and you don’t owe your doubts to skepticism. The only thing that you owe is love to yourself, love to your neighbor, and love to God. As Paul has written throughout Romans, you are free to love and serve the Lord, and you owe nothing and are slaves to nothing except the love of God, because God’s love is the only thing with a claim on you.
It is this sort of love that Paul has in mind when he tells us to take off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light and the love of God. This is deeply Baptismal language. Often in Baptism, we speak both literally and figuratively of putting on Christ. Earlier in Romans, Paul wrote that through Baptism, we die to Sin, Death, and ourselves and are reborn into the grace, power, and love of Christ’s Resurrection.
In the early Church, those who were baptized, in order to build on the image of “new birth,” were baptized naked and then clothed with a pristine, white garment upon coming out of a baptismal font that looked something like a coffin. Don’t worry though, as much as I’d love to have richer imagery involved in Baptism, I don’t plan to start offering naked baptisms.
This image is so rich though – you literally strip off the clothes of your old self, old life, old ways and then you put on a new garment which symbolizes Jesus’ Resurrection. That’s what the Christian life is all about – a total transformation of how we live, how we move, how we think, how we act. Instead of owing our emotions, our stress, our lives to the things of this world, we owe only love. Imagine how liberating it could be to only worry about “How can I love others and God today?” This is the sort of transformation that comes as we live more fully into our Baptism and more fully put on Christ.
You may have heard, but perhaps not, that there are conversations across The Episcopal Church about revising our Book of Common Prayer. The previous General Convention in 2015 directed a study to be done prior to the 2018 convention about what a process of revision might look like. Obviously, no one knows what the outcome of these conversations will be, but the committee overseeing this process has come up with four possible paths. One is beginning a wholesale process of revision. Another option is to keep the current book in place and add more supplemental books. Option three is further discussion at the next General Convention. And option four is “stepping back from liturgical revision and a commitment to exploring the theology of the current prayer book in greater depth.” At least in the Episcopal circles that I run in, it’s that last option about living more fully into the current Prayer Book that has gained the most traction.
The two primary Sacraments of the Church are Baptism and Eucharist, and the 1979 revision of the 1928 book dramatically reimagined the role of these Sacraments in the life of the Church, largely by returning to more ancient and traditional ways of understanding Baptism and Eucharist. Prior to 1979, Baptisms were commonly done in private on Saturdays. This has shifted radically – now Baptisms are properly done exclusively in the company of the entire congregation, as we understand that it’s as much about the Body of Christ as it is the person being Baptized. The practice of Eucharist has also undergone significant changes – as Eucharist used to be celebrated once a month, and sometimes only at the early service even then. Now, Eucharist is the rule, not the exception. We’ve come to recognize the power of being a Eucharistically shaped people.
These were both big changes for which the full impact will not be known for generations. While there are some things that need to be amended and supplemented in our current Prayer Book, I think the wider Church is on to something by suggesting that what we need is diving deeper into our understanding and practicing of Baptism and Eucharist.
That is the invitation that we are offered this morning by St. Paul – to consider more deeply and fully what it means to “put on Christ.” So I invite you to ponder that question this week – how do you put on Christ? Do you wear your faith on your sleeve? How does being a follower of Jesus affect the decisions you make, the way you manage your money, the way you structure your schedule?
What sort of garment does Christ feel like? Is it a bit scratchy, suggesting that maybe it’s a garment that hasn’t been worn enough to feel right? Is it an undershirt that no one else sees? Has it perhaps gotten too comfortable and gotten some holes in it that need to be addressed? Is it one of those garments that sits in the closet, always being passed over?
And there are some ways you might put on the garment of your Baptismal identity. You might “try on” coming to one service of either Morning or Evening Prayer each week in addition to Sunday worship. You might “put on” the practice of giving of your time and money to organizations and people that you care about. We recently ordered some t-shirts with St. Luke’s name on them because as we’re out working at the Dental Clinic or at Rowan Helping Ministries, we want people to know that we’re there because we’re responding to the love of God that we’ve experienced here at St. Luke’s. So you might put on one of these shirts as you’re out and about in this town doing the work of love.
The only thing that is required of you, the only debt that you owe is paid by love. God is love, which means that through love, anything is possible. Know that God has splendidly clothed you with the garment of salvation in your Baptism. So, how will you wear this garment of love this week?
