Isaiah 9:1-4, Psalm 27:1, 4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23
(look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)
credit: www.providencecpc.org |
These past three weeks we've been following the Gospel story of the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, and the interactions he's had with his long-lost cousin, John the Baptist--who has had quite the public ministry himself, heralding the arrival of the Messiah he did not immediately recognize, and sent his followers to see if he was really 'the One,' then Jesus came out to John to be baptized in the Jordan, and the heavens parted to anoint Jesus for this public ministry. Next, John began proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, and sent his own followers to become some of Jesus' first disciples. And now, John has been arrested, his own public ministry coming to an end, and Jesus begins to proclaim: 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near.'
The Gospel goes on to say that Jesus went about Galilee teaching the good news of the kingdom of God, and calling more people to become his disciples.
Now, to be honest, even as a pastor, the words, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near," do not immediately strike me as good news. Actually, it sounds like maybe slightly scary news. Maybe you even grew up feeling the same way. Part of this, I think, is in the word 'repent.' Repent means to turn away from one thing, and turn towards something else.
Since the kingdom of heaven is good news, to repent means to turn away from the bad news! But what bad news could that be? Given the time and place in which Jesus was speaking, I could imagine several things: believing it's a dog-eat-dog world, that there's not enough to go around, that the future is hopeless, that your past mistakes condemn you to a life of shame; and even just the basic human divisions among religious and ethnic groups and nationalities in the Mediterranean crescent. Also, there was the military occupation of the Roman empire, the reality of slavery, having your country overthrown and ending up in exile, ongoing wars, and so forth.
The good news, by contrast, is love: God is a loving, involved, forgiving God, and we can live in a world where we treat one another with love!
Now, the very idea that you might love someone outside your own ethnic or religious group, let alone a total stranger, not from your own tribe or town--or even an enemy with some threat of violence towards you, such as a Roman soldier--the very idea is enormously revolutionary!
And it makes all the sense in the world, these past few weeks as we've studied the relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus, and John's followers who are now becoming Jesus' disciples--it makes sense that the followers of John would be suspicious of another traveling teacher coming to town. After all, in the Greco-Roman world, it wasn't only John the Baptist and Jesus, but hundreds of wandering philosophers spouting advice and making proclamations, usually in exchange for money. This economic enterprise was so pervasive in the society that even after the death and resurrection of Jesus, even within the Christian community, Paul is still trying to address the problem. In Corinth, there are divisions among those who have been baptized by different early church leaders. However, the baptism is in Christ, and the community is in Christ--and this ties back into the story of the original reconciliation of followers between John and Jesus.
That was a long time ago, and yet I think this can be tough for us even today. This past week has been the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, which is not always the best-publicized Christian festival, but no less necessary. How often do we say, "I belong to the Presbyterian church, the Lutheran church, the UCC, the Baptists, the Catholics, etc?" Yet, we belong to the Christian church. We are one body in Christ.
That's not to say that there aren't multiple valid ways of teaching and preaching and ministering to one another within the Christian community; not that there aren't multiple versions even of the Gospel stories--each varies from one another at least a little, and really, that's alright. Unity is not uniformity. Unity is not the absence of difference. Difference does not have to mean division, retreating into one's own little camps and eyeing anyone else with suspicion.
Yet, it's so easy to fall into this trap, that we have to keep reminding ourselves of the bigger picture, the gift of love, a love large enough to cast out fear. Love is not naivete; love holds one another accountable, but does not exact revenge or even pettiness. Love listens, even in times of disagreement. Love realizes that the other people involved are also children of God.
One last thing. I've been thinking today about these passages which talk about light: The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? Or, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, a light greater than the depths of darkness they have seen in their lifetimes--even such despair that it seemed like the shadow of death, as the Gospel says.
This light is love. Love transforms the darkness and dispels fear. Love encourages building bridges, seeking understanding, healing hurts, and reconciling old divisions. It is not always easy to see the light, and look at each other through the lens of love, but when we do, we are able to forgive. We let go of our fear, and we might even find joy in love--just as God has first loved us.
Thanks be to God!