Homily: Yr C P9, June 2 2013, St. Albans
Readings: 1 Kings 18.20-39; Ps 96; Gal 1.1-12; Lk
7.1-10
Have
you ever picked up a car from an airport car rental agency? If you have, one of the things that you might
have noticed is that just as your drive out of the rental car parking lot,
there’s a set of big spikes in the road.
Have you seen them? They’re sharp
metal spikes that angle away from you, and as you exit the rental lot and drive
over them, your tires push them down into the road and you can drive over top
and exit the parking lot no problem. If
however, you were ever to drive into the lot going the wrong direction, then of
course the spikes wouldn’t push out of the way, instead they’d go right into
your car tires and tear them to shreds.
Now,
I don’t know about you, but I often find that renting a car at the airport is
quite confusing. Oh it’s ok while you’re
still in the rental parking lot, after all, within the lot there are lots of
arrows painted on the ground and signs to tell you which way to go to the exit,
and there are even some rental company employees who can direct you if you
still can’t figure out which way to go.
No, the moment that I find challenging is right at the place where I’ve
just exited the rental lot and I’m still getting used to the car and all of a
sudden the highway is right in front of me and the cars are zipping past and I
can’t figure out which way to turn or where I want to go or which lane to take.
And
I know I’m not the only one who finds this a challenge. One time I saw this guy drive out of the
rental lot, right over the spikes and then stop. He looked like didn’t know which way to turn,
and he must have forgotten to take a map or get directions. So he shifted the car into reverse, the tail
lights come on, and he looks back over his shoulder and starts to back up. And just before he gets to the spikes, this
rental company employee comes running up yelling and screaming at him, “What
are you doing, are you crazy, don’t back up, stop!”
That’s
Paul in the letter to the Galatians that we just heard read this morning. No “Hi, how are you, I’m fine, hope you are
well”. No, he instead he screams at them
“I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are
turning to a different gospel.” Or, in
other words, “What are you doing? Are
you crazy, what are you doing going backwards, you’re going to hit the spikes!”
So
why is Paul so agitated? What’s got him
so upset that he writes in such an abrasive and rude manner? What is this false gospel that has taken hold
of the Galatians?
Well
it’s this: Someone, presumably someone
from the early church, someone has come into Galatia after Paul and said to
them, “Galatians, you’re not good enough, and in order to be good enough, you
have to do this.” That’s the false
gospel that has Paul in a tizzy.
Have
you ever been told this? Mary, you’re
not good enough, and in order to be good enough, you have to do this.” Of course you have. We’ve all heard those voices, there are so
many of them in our society. Just watch
TV for a few hours. All you have to do
to be good enough is to drink this beer, or have cleaner clothes by using this
detergent, or have fresher breathe by chewing this gum. Or, spend a bit of time listening to what we
parents, with the best of intentions, tell our children. You need to do well in school. You need to behave yourself. You need to get a job. Or, listen to so many of the other voices
around us, telling us if only we dressed a bit better, or worked a little
harder, or stopped doing drugs, or saved more money, well, then we’d be good.
Or,
spend some time at church. How many have
ever heard voices telling you that in order to be good with God, you have to do
something: say this prayer inviting
Jesus into your heart, go to confession, be baptized, attend church every week,
and on and on it goes. How often in our
lives do we hear this false gospel that says “you’re not good enough yet, but I
have good news for you: in order to be
good enough all you have to do is this”
The
Galatians would have been familiar with this sort of gospel. They lived after all, in a time 2000 years
ago in the Roman Empire when life was pretty religious. They believed that pretty much everything
that happened was caused by the gods or the spirit world. Illness, bad weather, earthquakes, lightning,
all these things were attributable to the gods.
And as a result, in a world where life expectancy was in the 40s and
infant mortality rates approached 50%, being good with God wasn’t just a nice
to have, it was a matter of life and death.
One of the most important questions of anyone’s life was what he or she
had to do to be good with God, to be blessed with God’s favour. And so people did all sorts of things in an
effort to be good with God, to be worthy of God’s blessing. They offered sacrifice and prayers, they
performed rituals, they visited shrines, they appealed to priests and
magicians.
And
then along came Paul, proclaiming a gospel that was completely different from
anything they had ever heard. Something
that was incredibly good news. According
to Paul, you’re already good with God.
Everything that needs to be done has already been done by Jesus
Christ. You’ve already been made right
with God through Jesus death on the cross.
And not only are you good with God, you are a child of God. God loves you and cares for you and nothing
you or anyone else can do will ever separate you from the love of God. And as a
result of that, you’re free. Free of all
conditions, free from the need to please God or other people, free from all the
strings that so many in society try to tie you down with, free from all the
voices that tell you you’re not good enough.
That
is the Gospel of Jesus Christ that Paul proclaimed, the awesome good news that
the Galatians initially heard and received with amazing joy.
The
challenge for the Galatians, the challenge for us, is to hear this good news
and to believe it, to trust it, to hang on to it in the midst of all the other
voices that tell us that we’re not good enough, that in order to be good enough
we have to do this or that. In the case
of the Galatians, not long after Paul spent time with them, other voices came
along preaching a different gospel. Well
Galatians, they said, you know it’s not quite as simple as Paul was making
out. Yes, God is ready to love you, to
make you his people, but in order for that to happen, you have to be
circumcised, because that’s the sign of the covenant that God gave to Abraham. And then of course you’ll have to follow
these rules about food, because, you know, that’s the way we Jews have always
done it.
And
the Galatians fell for it, because, well, because that’s what they were used
to, that’s what they expected, a kind of exchange economy if you like where
I’ll do this for you if you do that for me.
After all that’s the way the world has always worked, and why should our
relationship with God be any different.
You
see, we’re used to living in a world of exchange, a tit for tat world where you
constantly have to prove your worth and when you do you hope to get what you
deserve.
We
see it in today’s Gospel reading from Luke, when the Jewish elders come up to
Jesus to try to convince him to help the Centurion. “You should help him,” they tell Jesus,
“because he’s worthy of having you do this for him, after all he loves our
people and it is he who built our synagogue for us.” Isn’t that the sort of argument we expect to
hear, an argument we’re used to hearing?
We
live in a world of exchange. But Paul is
calling us to live in a new world, a new creation he calls it. A world in which there are no conditions, no
tit for tat, no strings attached. A
world of grace.
But
the world of grace is unfamiliar territory to many of us. It’s like we’re moving out of the rental car
parking lot, with all its signs and direction arrows and employees to help us
and all of a sudden we’re confronted with an unfamiliar highway and we’re not
sure what way to go. It’s kind of
unsettling, this world of freedom.
That’s
why it’s so easy to return to the false gospel that tells us what we have to do
to be good enough. In a previous parish
I was in, I used to visit an elderly woman who was house-bound. She was a wonderful woman, she was devoted to
her faith and her family, and she’d surmounted numerous challenges in her long
life. And near the end, as she faced
death, she confided in me one day that she was afraid. She was afraid that she hadn’t been good
enough, and that as a result she didn’t know what was going to happen to her
after she died. I was surprised and I
was saddened, and my only thing I could think of was to tell her the same thing
that Paul proclaimed to the Galatians, the gospel of Jesus Christ. You are good enough because everything that
could possibly be needed to make you right with God and good in his sight has
already been done by Jesus on the cross.
You are a child of God, God loves you and nothing that you or anyone
else has done or could ever do will ever separate you from the love of God.
The
letter to the Galatians has been called Paul’s freedom manifesto. It’s a new world. You are a new creation. You have been born as a child of God. The old rules don’t apply anymore. You’re free!
But freedom is
unsettling. Even as I was preparing this
sermon I had to keep resisting the temptation to put conditions on the freedom
we’ve been given in Christ. I kept
hearing these voices saying “Be careful. What if they actually believe
you? Maybe they’ll stop coming to
church!” Well, so be it.
Because we’re good enough, we’re
good with God. Just the way we are. Nothing to be done, no conditions, no strings
attached. We are free from all
that. For freedom, Christ has set us
free. That may be unsettling. That may be new territory for us. We may want directions, we may want some sort
of road map. We’ll talk about that in the coming weeks as we work our way
through Galatians. But for now, whatever
you do, resist the temptation and ignore those voices that are telling you to
put it into reverse and drive back over the spikes.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment