The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Give to God's People the Things that are God's
Matthew 22:15-22

Today’s Gospel passage concludes with probably one of the most widely known passages in Scripture. From the old King James translation: Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and unto God the things that are God. This passage is frequently used to justify the separation of church and state or as a prod to generous stewardship. But this passage begins with the Pharisees. Historians and religious scholars don’t seem to know a lot about the Pharisees: who they really were, how important they were, what their role or purpose was.

The Gospel writers portray them as active opponents of Jesus. And that gets my attention. When I think of the lack of discipleship in our contemporary society it seems to me to come from indifference, and maybe some selfishness, but not active opposition.

But the Pharisees actively sought to discredit and defeat Jesus. And not just the Pharisees. In today’s passage, Matthew says that the Herodians have come to challenge Jesus as well. It’s easy to read right past that phrase, but we shouldn’t. Here’s what one commentator says about the Herodians in this story: “Now the Pharisees have brought members of the Herodians along. These are the courtiers and clients of Herod, Rome’s puppet king. They represent not only the Jewish ruling authority in Judaea outside the city of Jerusalem, but also the threat of Roman intervention in Jesus’ public ministry. Notoriously, Herod and his followers accommodated the Roman occupying power. So when the Herodians show up to listen to Jesus, the authority of Caesar has now entered the scene” (Angela V. Askew, Sermons that Work).

In the Gospels the Pharisees represent, not so much Judaism overall, but the entrenched structure and power of the temple authorities. And the Herodians represent the political power structure of the day. They represent Caesar and the Roman empire.

In the Adult Ed class last year one of the curricula we used was titled “Eclipsing Empire.” Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan presented the material. Their primary thesis is that God’s Kingdom, as it was presented and manifest in Jesus, directly threatened to eclipse the Roman Empire. Borg and Crossan stress that talking about Jesus without talking about the Roman Empire is like talking about Martin Luther King without talking about racism in America. And yet in church we very often talk about Jesus without any mention of the Roman Empire. They stress that we really need that historical matrix to understand and interpret Jesus’ words and actions.

This certainly seems a valid point with this Gospel passage. In this passage Jesus is reacting. Jesus’ words are said in reaction to provocation from the Pharisees and representatives of the Roman Empire.
Borg and Crossan emphasize how Jesus was an explicit threat to the Empire. For example, Caesar’s public titles at the time included: “Divine, Son of God, God, God from God, Lord, Liberator, Redeemer, and Savior of the World.” When equivalent claims and status are attributed to Jesus, they come into direct conflict.

Also, the Kingdom of God and the Roman Empire offered contrasting ways to order society, to bring peace and stability, to establish right relationship between citizens. In the Roman Empire peace is achieved through victory. Civic relationships are characterized by a differential of power and this maintains security and stability.

In the Kingdom of God peace is achieved through justice… the sort of justice which is called distributive justice. Right relationship between citizens in the Kingdom of God is characterized by a just distribution of God’s blessing and abundance.

Peace through the victory of the powerful. Peace through the just distribution of God’s abundance. Empire versus the Kingdom of God.

We do well to ask ourselves today: What is the coinage of our relationships with others in society, in the world. What is the coinage of our relationships with other human beings? Is it power? Or is it the just distribution of God’s gifts? Are we on the side of Empire or the Kingdom of God?
I think it is hard to deny that in the global world of nations we live in a world of empire, a world where relationships are characterized by power.

A very superficial Wikipedia search suggested that in a recent year, the United States’ budget for military spending was over 650 billion. In the same time frame, non military foreign aid was around 30 billion. That’s 5% on sharing, compared to power. I know this kind of statement tends to generate knee jerk reactions from people on all parts of the political spectrum. Hold those knee jerks. It occurred to me in passing as I was thinking about these things that knee jerk reactions and kneeling are mutually incompatible activities. You can’t have a knee jerk reaction and kneel at the same time.

I know these are complicated issues. I only mean to illustrate a reality that I think is very hard to deny. We live in a world of empire. We live in a world that maintains, or seeks to maintain peace and stability by the use of power.

We also live in a world that lacks distributive justice. Some of you drive through Ford Heights on your way to church. And there are all of the occupy Wall Street, occupy Chicago, occupy everywhere protests that are going on right now. I haven’t really given these much careful thought. And the issues here, too, are complicated. I am sympathetic to the critics who point out that the protestors are complicit in the systems they criticize and that their goals are vague. But it seems to me that this movement arises out of the unarguable reality that distributive justice is not present in our world. Our world is not characterized by a just distribution of God’s gifts.

We live in a world of empire. And just as he did 2000 years ago when he challenged the Roman Empire, I think Jesus challenges the world of empire in which we live.

I do believe that Jesus calls us to citizenship and advocacy for a world of distributive justice. The Kingdom of God is a place where God’s blessing and bountiful gifts are justly distributed. Even the Pharisees when they were speaking to Jesus noted that Jesus did not treat people with partiality. And our baptismal covenant, our Episcopal articulation of faith and mission, speaks of our call to work for justice and to respect the full and equal dignity of every human being.

Yes, on a global or national scale in the political sphere, these issues are complex. But we must ask ourselves: If we affirm that all good comes from God… all good comes from God… the bounty of the earth, the abundance of blessing, the opportunity for joy and wonder… the rich resources of creation… If all good comes from God, how can we act to help justly distribute God’s good gifts? We must act that question at every stage of our civil and political involvement. How can my action, my voice, my vote, help in the just distribution of God’s gifts?

And the choice between empire and the Kingdom of God is ours also on a more immediate or personal level. Every time you encounter a person in need and you have resources in your possession share, distribute. It’s that simple. Every time you have been blessed with something good or beautiful, share.

A few other examples come to mind. A ministry colleague of mine is involved in a program called the National Parks Project. This is not a government program. It’s a program that works to provide opportunities for kids with limited opportunities to experience our country’s National Parks. It’s a way to share with others the wondrous beauty of God’s creation found in our National Parks. That’s Kingdom of God distributive justice work.

Another program. Chicago Opera Theater (Chicago’s other opera company) has a program called Opera for all. It’s an outreach program in the schools. Lots of cultural institutions do something like this, taking the arts to the schools, and these are all good programs, but this one is special. This is about much more than the formation of future audiences. They go to four elementary schools in Chicago where exposure to the arts is limited. And they don’t just go for one concert; they stay for the whole year. They perform music, yes, but they also work with the students to help the kids write their own operas. I doubt that the finished product has much in common with traditional grand opera, but the kids have the opportunity to be creative. It’s a sharing of God’s gift of creativity. Distributing the glorious gift of creative endeavor more justly.

As Christians, we often talk about how everything comes from God. With that comes the general sense of obligation that we probably ought to be giving more to the church than we are as a way of giving back to God. But God doesn’t need our gifts. And I think we forget that God is not present just in the church, but in the hearts and souls and lives of every human being. God is present in God’s people. To give to God’s people is to give to God.

So maybe we should hear Jesus’ words in this morning’s Gospel like this: Give to God’s people the good things that are God’s. As citizens of the Kingdom of God, we are to work for the just distribution of God’s good gifts. Give to the people of God the abundant goodness that is God’s.

The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

Our Grace Field
Collect of the Day (proper 23)

The “Propers” are that portion of our Sunday service that is specific to this particular Sunday on the church calendar. As you might imagine, this includes the Scripture readings appointed for this day. The propers also include the collect of the day. And the collect appointed for this day is one that strikes me every year when it comes around.

“Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us.” This prayer is found in a manuscript of liturgical prayers known as the Gregorian sacramentary, which dates from the late 8th century. So Christians have been praying this collect for a very long time.

“Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us.” It always conjures up for me visual images of God’s grace. One image is of the Peanuts character Pigpen. Remember him? Everywhere he went (everywhere!) he was preceded and followed by a great cloud of dust. Or sometimes, with my interest in science fiction, I see a Star Trek image of a personal force field, surrounding an individual. But it’s not a force field, it’s a grace field.

We are surrounded by a field of grace.

What does this grace field do for us? This may sound really obvious, but it’s important. It enables us to be grace-full.

It enables us to be graceful. Full of grace. Many of you are familiar with the prayer known as the Hail Mary. “Hail, Mary, full of grace…” Ave Maria, gratia plena… Part of what this collect says is that “full of grace” isn’t just for Mary anymore. It is for all of us.

God’s grace makes us grace-full. Not, unfortunately in the physical sense. God’s grace won’t get us a place on dancing with the stars. It makes us spiritually grace-full.

As Anglicans, we affirm that the sacraments are a “sure and certain” way through which God bestows grace upon us. But they are not the only way. God pours out his grace with abundance. I like this image of being surrounded by grace throughout our daily lives. We are not just filled with grace; we are surrounded by grace. God’s grace is always near at hand. Similarly Paul, writing from prison, reassures the Philippians: “The Lord is near.”

For theologians, grace is the lynchpin of Christian theology. It is how God shares God’s self with us. Grace is where our lives and God’s lives intersect.

Theologians have written many, many words describing how that intersection takes place. And those descriptions don’t all agree, but all do agree that grace comes to us as an unearned and unmerited gift. Unearned and unmerited.

One way I understand the effect of God’s grace is that it enables us to be better than our best. With God’s grace we, literally, are inspired to be better than the absolute best we could possibly be on our own. An old ad campaign used to claim that in the Army you could be all that you can be. God’s grace enables us to be more than we can be.

God’s grace offers us a share in God’s own life and God’s own power.

I like the image of a grace-field. Although God’s grace does not act like an impenetrable force field. It does not protect us from all physical harm. But I like the idea of God’s grace being outside of us, around us in the space in which we act. God’s grace does not only fill our hearts and affect our feelings. God’s grace empowers our actions. And I like to think that when we act grace-fully that grace-field stretches out to encompass and surround those whom we touch and help.

This grace field enables us to be better than our best. It gives us compassion and the courage and will to act upon that compassion. It inspires us to good works, all good works, as the collect says. Good works even beyond the best of our human nature. God’s grace enables us to forgive the unforgivable.
It is a resource beyond ourselves offering comfort, courage and hope in times of trial. More than we could muster ourselves. God’s grace gives us the gift of wonder… a particularly divine gift… the awe and joy to wonder at the majesty and mystery of God’s creation. And, as St. Paul says in today’s epistle, God’s grace pours peace into hearts… peace beyond all human understanding to guard our hearts and souls.

In the collect we pray that God’s grace field will precede and follow us. Why do we pray that it may follow us? Why do we need God’s grace behind us?

For one thing, to pick up after us. To clean up the messes and hurts we leave behind in our lives. Like a long-suffering parent picking up the trail of a child’s life, God’s grace picks up after us. Grace is the substance of forgiveness and reconciliation. It is grace that makes forgiveness and reconciliation possible. We pray that God’s grace will follow behind us to bring forgiveness and reconciliation to the messes and hurts we leave behind in life.

I have one other thought on the value of God’s grace following behind us. Psalm 139 is probably familiar to many of you. Listen to these verses as the psalmist cries out to God:

Where can I flee from your presence? If I climb up to heaven, you are there; if I make the grave my bed, you are there also. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea (as far away as humanly possible), even there your hand will lead me and your right hand hold me fast. If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will cover me, and the light around me turn to night,’ Darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day; darkness and light to you are both alike (Psalm 139:6b-11).

Even if we turn away and try to flee from God, God’s grace will still be there behind us. Even in those times when we turn our back on God, God’s grace is still with us. It’s like trying to outrun your shadow. You can’t.

Roman Catholic theologians have written a lot about grace. They talk about actual grace, cooperating grace, efficacious grace, irresistible grace, prevenient grace, sanctifying grace (which is the same as habitual grace), and sufficient grace.

I’m talking about inescapable grace. God’s inescapable field of grace which fills and surrounds us all, enabling us to be better than our best. Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us.

The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

The Ten Words
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

This morning’s reading from the Hebrew Scriptures includes what we often call the Ten Commandments. The only time they are mentioned by title within the Scriptures themselves, they are called the Ten Words. Not the Ten Commandments, but the ten words. And when we refer to them as the Decalogue, as we do in the Prayer Book, we are using a Greek word that means “ten words.” Decalogue. The ten words.

I like calling them the ten words. Words communicate. Commandments control. The last few days I’ve been wandering around a relatively random sample of references on the Ten Commandments. One point that many commentators make is that these words are much more about identity than regulation. They are words, God’s words, meant to communicate a peoples’ identity, not a set of commandments meant to regulate a society’s behavior. To say they are words about identity does not diminish their significance. I think it makes them even more important, even more foundational.

I want to share a few general observations about the ten words, and then focus on what we usually call the Third Commandment. In today’s reading it was translated: “You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God.” The Book of Common Prayer presents it in two translations. One is probably the most familiar: “Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.” Within the context of the Rite 2 service, the Prayer Book translates it: “You shall not invoke with malice the Name of the Lord your God.” The third commandment.

First a few general observations.

You all know, of course, as important as we consider the Ten Commandments to be, that they appear twice in the Hebrew Scriptures. The content in the two places is very similar. The first list, which we heard this morning, does not mention any stone tablets. That’s in a later version of the story, told by the Deuteronomist.

Several commentators point out that there are only ten. Only ten words. With lots of room in between for freedom and grace to intersect.

It occurs to me that if we insist upon casting these words in stone, and we have been doing that for millennia, since the time of the Deuteronomic editor… if we are going to cast these words in stone, it should be a very large stone. A stone of the expanse of a human life, or perhaps even stretching as large as all human culture. A stone that large with just ten words written upon it and lots of space in between. Space where freedom and grace can intersect. But we don’t usually present the ten words that way. Usually we leave no room in between.

Also, if we are going to cast these words in stone, we should bear in mind that there has long been a difference of opinion on how to exactly delineate the ten words.

The Jews count what we would call the introduction as the first word.

Lutherans and Roman Catholics (and that’s a lot of Christians) combine what we would call one and two into one single commandment and then split the tenth. There are always ten. One for each finger, a helpful mnemonic. But the numbering of the ten varies.

So, if you do feel inclined to cast them unchangeably in stone… you need to get your denominational affiliation straight first. Maybe we aren’t meant to cast them in stone. But cherish them in our hearts and lives.

These words are a gift. A gift to be cherished indeed, given from God directly to the people. That’s rare in the Hebrew Scriptures! God speaks directly to the people. With the gift of these words.

God’s first words are: I am the Lord your God. That’s the starting point. We are God’s people. That’s established at the beginning. God does not say: Here is a list of regulations for your behavior. If you manage to follow these regulations, then you can be my people. God starts out. I am the Lord your God. I give you these words as a gift to help you build your identity as my own people, my beloved.

As I browsed the literature on the Ten Commandments, I found a lot of articles on the one about keeping the Sabbath holy. It’s interesting that this one has attracted so much attention, when it is probably the most widely ignored these days. But all those articles reveal something else. This commandment really requires interpretation. It can’t be taken just at face value. But remember it is a description of identity, rather than a regulation of behavior. It identifies us as a people who value the holiness of the Sabbath. But we must interpret what that means for us in our time. Every faith community has had to interpret this “commandment” within the context of their own place and time.

These ten words are an incredibly important foundation upon which we can build our own identity as God’s people, God’s beloved. God’s words are just the starting point. We must do the work of interpreting and building.

The commandment about the Sabbath is one that clearly requires interpretation. But that is really true of all of them. What we call the third commandment also requires interpretation.

Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain.

At some point American civil religion took this word of God’s and turned it into a general prohibition against swearing. This interpretation is really both too limited and too sweeping. Too limited in that being people who revere God’s Name is about a lot more than swearing. And too sweeping in that it has come to be implied—in American civil religion—that the Ten Commandments prohibit all swearing, even the earthier forms of oaths that do not mention God. I’m not advocating vulgar language, but I don’t see how it has anything to do with the Third Commandment.

So how do we interpret this third word in our time, in our lives?

For one thing, remember that names are important. Our own names are important. We value our names. We want people to spell them correctly, to pronounce them correctly. To know someone’s name is to have some level of intimacy or power over them. The telephone caller who knows your name has more power over you than the one who doesn’t. For those of us in relationship with God, God’s Name is important. Don’t use it casually.

Personally, I am much less concerned by the occasional, emotional oath which may name God, than I am by the pervasive casual use in our culture of OMG. OMG. It’s become an acronym, thrown away in casual speech like used tissues. In our day and time using God’s name blasphemously is much less significant than using God’s name indifferently. Do not use God’s Name casually.

Do not take the Lord’s Name in vain. “In vain” in contemporary English usage means futile. Without success. He tried in vain to achieve a world’s record. His efforts were in vain. Without success. Our purposes fail when they are not God’s purposes. One interpretation of using the Lord’s Name in vain would be to seek personal success by using God’s Name. “Branding” our efforts with God’s Name. Do not take your vanity and name it as God’s will. Do not take projects or goals that are your own and call them God’s.

This is tricky, because, of course we do seek to do God’s will, and it’s not always easy to discern what is God’s will and what is ours. We are called to be people whose efforts are offered in God’s name. Which is why it is so important to differentiate our own goals from God’s. Difficult, but important. This commandment requires us to take that task of discernment very seriously.

I gather that the Hebrew word translated “in vain” has to do with something that lacks reality or truth. So in the lives of the early Hebrew people, this third word was interpreted to prohibit perjury. Do not speak words with no truth. And also to prohibit magic. Do not do things that are not real.
One commentator, writing in a dusty version of the Interpreter’s Bible that I have from the 50’s talks about magic and the Third Commandment. The fifties were quite a while ago now, but his words are worth pondering.

"We still are subject to [this] temptation, to belief in the [magical] power of sacred names…. Every minister is tempted to cater to the primitive urge on the part of some in the congregation to hear over and over again certain magic formulas which seem to them to guarantee soundness of faith and comfortable doctrine. Whether the phrase is “the blood of Jesus” or “the brotherhood of man,” it is merely magical when it is used as a spell. Religion for many people consists in the good feeling aroused by the repetition of certain beloved formulas. This type of piety can be recognized by its extreme harshness in the denunciation of those who do not use them. (Or, I might add, in vehement resistance to any change in the formulas.) Its sin is disobedience to the Third Commandment, which forbids the cheap and easy use of the divine name to cover up poverty of real thought and feeling.” (J. Coert Rylaarsdam, Exegesis of Exodus, The Interpreter's Bible, 1952).

Do not use the Lord’s name as a magic talisman to conjure up religious feeling. Do not use the Lord’s Names as a placebo in place of a true relationship with God.

Another writer, an ethicist, writing on this third word: This commandment is “particularly designed to prevent the misuse of the power of religion, the numinous power of the holy, to further one’s own ends at the expense of the life or welfare of others. Like the commandment against idolatry, it provides a check against authoritarian priestcraft, and especially against the use of fear to compel allegiance to religious demands.” (Walter Harrelson, "Decalogue," The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Ethics).

He’s not speaking exclusively of ordained priests. Priestcraft connotes a position of power over others. So this prohibits the use of the Lord’s name as an implement of power, to compel others to your purposes. Do not use the Lord’s name as a weapon.

So, a few ways we might interpret the third word of the Decalogue in our own time.

Do not use the Lord’s name casually.
Do not take your own purpose, your will, and slap God’s name on it.
Do not use the Lord’s name as a magical talisman, as a placebo in place of true religion.
Do not use the Lord’s name (including the Decalogue) as a weapon to compel anyone to do anything.

We cling to the Decalogue because it seems so clear, so easy. It is a wonderful gift, but it is just the beginning. It is the foundation upon which we can build an identity as God’s own, God’s beloved. But we must do the work to build a faithful life upon the foundation God has given us.

But as we do that work, remember the first words God said to his people: I am the Lord, your God. I am the Lord, your God.