Sermon: 'Become Who You Are'

As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. 

—Col. 2:6-7

One of my favorite sections of any magazine is the Letters to the Editor section. Reading other readers' reactions to magazine articles often gives me insights that I might not have gotten otherwise. Readers often say that they enjoyed an article, but want to point out the omission of something they felt was important; other readers point out faulty research; all too often, there are readers who claim the article shouldn't have been written at all; occasionally readers actually write a letter to the editor just to to say, “Good job!” In just about every letter, the writer starts out with a positive statement, such as, “Thank you for including John Q. Public's article on contemporary Mongolian cabinetry in the last edition of Cabinetry Today,” or “I enjoyed reading Mary Doe's thoughts on the yellow pages in the September 1 edition of The Phone Book Journal.” But writers of these letters always have a point to make that isn't reflected in these opening compliments, so there's just about always a transition... and the transition is usually pretty obvious. You know you've hit it when you reach certain key words, such as However, or Nevertheless, or Be that as it may. Occasionally, the transition is more positive, and is indicated by a phrase such as, For this reason.

It's this last kind of transition that the Apostle Paul makes in his letter to the Colossians. He's spent the opening with his usual greetings, and he goes on to tell them how hard he's working on their behalf, and that he's with them in spirit, even though he's physically absent. In the final part of his opening words, he tells them how happy to see how firm their faith is. Then he gets to the meat of his message by using a transition word. It's not negative, like a But or a However, but one of those positive, supportive transition words—Therefore: “Therefore, just as you've received Jesus as your Lord, keep living your lives with that in mind.”

The Colossians Are in Danger of Being Led Astray

These are not empty words. Paul has gotten wind that things in Colossae aren't all peaches and cream. The simple message of the Gospel is having to compete in that church with a very different message. Because the letter as we've received it is written to real people in a specific place and time, there's a lot left out. Paul didn't write this letter so that others in later centuries and in unheard-of countries could understand it. He wrote it so that the Colossians could understand it. And the Colossians were fully aware of their own state of affairs and had no need to slog through a complete summary of all they already knew.

Picture it this way. What would it be like if there were no junk mail, and no bills, and no e-mail, but every piece of mail was a treasured letter from someone we knew and loved and had been waiting to hear from? It's a happy coïncidence today that Cherie's our lay reader, because she's also the church secretary. But imagine if at every worship service, the church secretary opened the mail in our presence and announced to us all who it was from, and then paused to let us all murmur our oohs and aahs as we quietly rejoiced to hear from a far-away brother or sister. And after we'd gotten that out of our system, then read it to us from start to finish, while we listened as intently as we possibly could.

Remember, there were no copiers, mimeograph machines, or even printing presses back then. Every document had to be carefully handwritten. So the only copy of the letter in the church would be the copy being read to us aloud. There would be no need to make us sit through a recitation of all that we already knew. And that's why Paul doesn't tell the Colossians everything that's happening in their church—they already knew it. If we don't, then it's just something that's to remain a mystery to us.

But what we can glean from Paul's letter to the Church at Colossae is that there's some sort of a religious or philosophical system being mixed with Colossian Christianity that tells people Christ is not enough, that they need to ask for the mediation of angels, too. The philosophy also seems to say that God isn't sovereign, but that people are also at the mercy of the stars and the planets, and need to live their lives with a view to other heavenly bodies.

We, Too, Are Easily Led Astray

I'm not sure what kind of letter Paul might write to us. But I am sure that he'd start off by being positive. In addition to a greeting, I suspect he'd also give a summary of the Good News that we've received in Jesus Christ. And unless things were really, really bad here (and I don't think they are), I suspect that he'd keep things positive—even if he had some gentle criticism to share with us. As the 19th-century Congregational minister Henry Ward Beecher put it, “You can gain [people] easily if you get round their prejudices and put truth in their minds. But never if you attack prejudice” itself.[1] In other words, the best way to address somebody's errors is to reïnforce all the stuff they do right, in hopes that they'll concentrate on those things more and more, until the wrong withers on the vine for lack of attention.

And let's face it. There is error in this place and at this time. And, just as in Paul's day, the error often has to do with our willingness to pay attention to competing messages. We believe in God, and yet we're eager to place our future in the hands of other human beings. We attend a church that repeats over and over again the message that God loves us for who we are, and yet we are all to willing to allow ourselves to be divided according to language, or nationality, or political beliefs, or ethnic background, or sexual orientation, or educational background, or the amount of money we make. We may not think of these as theological questions. But if we allow them to take precedence over the Good News that we've received and on which we should take our stand, then that's precisely what we've made them into. Our god becomes something other than the God who made us and loves us, and our Savior something other than Jesus Christ who's united us and shown us what love is.

The Colossians Already Have What It Takes

Paul has confidence that, no matter how difficult things may seem to be, the Colossians know who their God is and have indeed taken their stand with Jesus Christ. And so he begins addressing their problems with a positive Therefore, and then proceeds for the bulk of the rest of the letter to make a whole series of statements about who they are as followers of Christ, interspersed with imperatives: Live! and, See to it! and, Do not let! In this way, he reminds them of who they are, all the while telling them to live that reality. In other words, he tells them, “Become who you are!”[2]

The Good News that Paul shares with them is that, in Christ, we are a new creation—the old ways no longer control us (see 2 Cor. 5:17). Paul tells the Colossians not to listen to voices that reminded them of all their past mistakes—the person who did those things isn't the person listening to this letter! And he told them not to obey people who teach them that the only way to earn God's love is through self-punishment and humiliation—Christ took on that punishment and that humiliation, and now we are free to love and to grow.

Paul's message wasn't just a personal one for each individual Colossian, but was even more importantly a message to all Colossians together. Though each person was a member of the church, it was all of them jointly who were the body of Christ—and it's the whole body that Christ strengthens and nourishes. The church's future, Paul reminded them, was already a reality in the eyes of God, because God can have nothing but love for the body of Christ.

In God's Eyes, We Have Integrity

And that's definitely a message we need to hear as well. Let me paraphrase a few sentences from this morning's lesson:

Don't listen to anybody who puts you down over things that don't matter, such as diet and church music and worship schedule. Those things are just a shadow cast by the body of Christ. Don't let anybody else run your life, insisting that you share their vision and their interpretation of the Gospel. We're all members of the same body, and together we're all nourished by the same Lord.

Christ has taken away our shame and made us a part of his royal family. Though none of us is perfect, together we complete one another's shortcomings. This leaves us free to hear one another out, assuming the best of each other. As long as we're in this world, we'll probably be surrounded by voices that point out our differences. But let's remember: Those are the shadow. The body of Christ of which we are a part is what's important. Though the shadow it casts may seem to shift and may even grow indistinct, God looks on the body casting the shadow, and that body is solid and strong.

And just as we ourselves are free of shame, it’s even more important that we remain free from giving it. When we speak and listen, knowing that no shame can be transferred and that no obligation can be laid on us by another, then we know we haven’t given in to the shadows, but are standing strong in Christ.

So let’s become who we already are in God’s eyes. In Christ we have a reminder of precisely who that is: New men and women, people of integrity, generosity, and honesty. God has already transformed us. May the words that we speak to one another be shared in love. And may the way we receive one another’s words also be in love, knowing that a brother or sister in Christ can only strengthen us and can only nourish us, as long as we look for our common life to Jesus Christ, the head of the body. Amen.

—©2010 Sam L. Greening, Jr.

1. Debby Applegate, The Most Famous Man in America (New York: Three Leaves, 2007), p. 150.
2. Andrew Lincoln, The Letter to the Colossians, The New Interpreter's Bible, Vol. XI (Nashville: Abingdon, 2000) p. 620.

'The Best Part'

There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.  

—Luke 10:42

Go and Do
We all know the story of the Good Samaritan. It's a story Jesus tells to a Bible scholar who asks him, "Who is my neighbor." Rather than just tell him who his neighbor is, Jesus lets him figure it out on his own by telling him about three people who encountered a man who needed their help. The first two—both of them leaders in the lawyer's own religion—pretended not to see the man so that they wouldn't have to help. The third—a member of a despised minority—did everything humanly possible to care for the injured man. After Jesus got the scholar to admit that it was the third man who truly understood what the word "neighbor" in the Bible meant, he ended the conversation by saying, "Go and do likewise."

Immediately after this parable—and in the same chapter—Luke tells us another story that's supposed to break down barriers... but different barriers, and in a different way. It's a simple little story about two sisters named Mary and Martha. The story isn't repeated in any of the other gospels, but the sisters are mentioned in John... and the personalities definitely match.

Luke tells us that, on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus stopped by Martha’s house. That’s no big deal to us, of course. But In that first little sentence, Luke has introduced something revolutionary into the Bible: Jesus visits a home that appears to belong to a woman. Women didn’t normally own property in that time and place, and if they did, they were probably held in suspect by the community. But just as Jesus blessed a wedding in Cana of Galilee simply by his presence, so we must also say that Jesus blessed the home of a single woman simply by visiting it.

Mary Sits and Listens
There were probably several people in Martha's house that evening, but Luke focuses on only three: Jesus, Mary, and Martha. As was his custom, Jesus sat in the living room and shared the Good News with those who had followed him there. Mary was fascinated by every word, and sat there like one of the guests, taking it all in.

Martha, on the other hand, was the perfect hostess. It may have been unusual that she was a property owner, but she fit the mold of the traditional woman in most other respects. As Jesus taught in the public area of her house, she was busy behind closed doors cooking and cleaning up and arranging things so that the guests would feel comfortable. No one was interested in whether or not she was enjoying Jesus’ company. She was a woman, and a woman’s place was in the kitchen. And believe me, her kitchen was nothing like most of our kitchens. There was no such thing as an “open floor plan” back in those days. There was no breakfast bar separating the work area from the entertainment area to enable the cook to enjoy the guests’ company even as the meal was being prepared. In Martha’s house, the kitchen would have been separated from the living area by a solid wall, and a door which was to remain closed. Nobody in the living room cared what the kitchen looked like; and it’s highly doubtful that Martha had new stainless steel appliances and an elegant granite countertop to show off anyway.

As Martha slaved away over a hot stove, she began to notice that something was missing that evening. The “something” that was missing was her sister Mary. This was probably the biggest event in Martha’s life, and it was important that everything be absolutely perfect. Messiah was in the house, and her sister had gone missing in action.

As Martha stirred a pot with one hand while getting out her best serving dishes with the other, she thought she remembered seeing Mary out in the living room with the men, but that was impossible. Mary just sitting there, listening to Jesus as though she were some sort of rabbinical student? Clearly Martha was simply too busy to even think straight.

But when she shoved open the door to the living room with her elbow while juggling two trays full of her irresistible treats, she was so dumbfounded that she nearly let the door swing back and knock her over. There was her sister, shirking her duty by just sitting there, and embarrassing her by acting like a lazy man. No woman had a right to learn at the teacher’s feet. That privilege was reserved for future teachers. And all teachers—future, present, and past—were men.

“Lord,” she blurted out, not even caring if she interrupted Jesus, “doesn’t it bother you that my sister is sitting here like a man, while I’m serving you and the other men all by myself?” Martha was worried about several things at once, not least of which was getting the work done and keeping up respectable appearances. Mary had always been a bit more sociable with guests than she was, but this was taking things too far. Duty was duty, and decent people do not shirk their responsibilities!

We, Too, Are Distracted
Being distracted is part of the human condition. Most of us feel (or at least witness) its frustrations every day. As I attempt to cross the streets of La Jolla by foot, for example, I often feel bad for the poor souls who are talking on their cell phones, but are distracted by the inconvenient nuisance of simultaneously operating a motor vehicle.

Because most of us know more about distractions than we really want to, I think we can definitely relate to the conflict between the two sisters. It seems to describe many of our relationships, doesn’t it? One person in a relationship is focused, the other scattered. One person gets things done, while the other is a “people person,” happy to waste time in conversation instead of helping out at a dinner party.

But even more to the point, I suspect that the conflict between doing our duty and slacking off is more of an inner conflict. How does distraction most often take shape in your life? You have serious work that has to get done, but you’re also tempted to stop, take it easy, and chat with your neighbor. You have a deadline to meet, and you’re making serious headway on the project at hand. Then the phone rings, and you find it’s a call you have to take, losing your momentum.

Distractions take many forms—one of the most common ones in my own life is reading. I usually have at least two books by my bedside on any given night: One a serious book about theology or preaching that I really need to read, and the other a novel that I really want to read. When it comes to bedtime reading, I’m distracted by the siren song of the novel more nights than I care to admit.

Martha, of course, would read the professional journal and forego the novel. Though Martha might want to chat with her guests, she knows that if she doesn’t stick to the cooking and cleaning, there can be no dinner party. Martha would ignore the phone and finish her project at work. Mary, on the other hand, would read the novel, enjoy the guests’ company, and happily take a phone call when she really should be typing away at the computer.

Jesus Reprimands the Wrong Sister
Jesus, of course, notices Mary’s tendency to forego duty, and sets her on the right track, right?

Well, maybe not. Let’s get back to Martha’s question: “Lord, doesn’t it bother you that my sister is sitting here like a man, while I’m serving you and the other men all by myself?” It would appear that Jesus had every reason to agree with Martha: “Well, Martha, now that you mention it, it does bother me!” he should’ve said; or “You’re right, Martha, who does she think she is, anyway?” Hadn’t he just finished his last parable with the words, “Go and do”? And here was Mary, sitting and listening. It’s our duty as Christians to serve. Moreover, both scripture and tradition insisted that a woman’s place was not the same as a man’s—that women weren’t eligible to learn to be teachers.

And make no mistake: That’s exactly what the Bible implies when it says that Mary was sitting at the teacher’s feet. “Sitting at Jesus’ feet” did not imply a status of fawning inferiority, but of learning under the Master’s tutelage. One sat at a rabbi’s feet in order to become a teacher. Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet didn’t just tell us that she was shirking her duty to work in the kitchen, but also that she was being prepared to be an apostle.

This is why Martha’s embarrassment is so profound, and why Jesus’ answer to her question is so surprising. For as it turns out, it wasn’t Mary who was distracted after all, but Martha. It wasn’t the sister who was sitting and listening who was doing the wrong thing, but the one who was getting up and working. In other words, Jesus reprimands the wrong sister.

“Martha, Martha,” he sighs, “it’s obvious that you’ve chosen to worry about a lot of different things, and that you’re very distracted. But there’s really only one thing worthy of occupying your mind. Your sister has made the best choice, and what she’s learning this evening is something that can’t be taken from her.”

In case you’re concerned that Jesus’ counsel to Mary and Martha contradicts his commandment to the scholar who asked him who his neighbor was, we’ll need to go back to see his original conversation with Jesus. He wants to know what he must do to inherit eternal life, so Jesus asks him what the scriptures say. “They tell me to love God with all my being,” he says, and continues, “and to love my neighbor as myself.” Jesus’ instincts tell him that it’s the “neighbor” thing that’s got him hung up, so that’s what Jesus talks to him about. But Jesus’ encounter with Mary and Martha really addresses the first part of the requirement the scholar quoted: to love God with everything we’ve got. Loving our neighbors can truly come about only after we’ve addressed our first, our deepest need: a relationship with God. Service to others needs the firm foundation of God’s love if it’s to be truly effective.

From Reprimand to Invitation
And so the answer Martha got was a gentle reprimand; but more than that, it was an invitation: Jesus basically told her that he had come to her house not to check the corners for dust, and not to taste the delicacies she placed on the table. He’d come because he wanted to spend time with her and her sister.

I think that many of the duties in our lives are there by design: They keep us from thinking too much. They keep us from asking the deep questions. By being engaged in our constant activity, it’s easy to forget that our relationship with God is not one of duty, but of grace. Jesus would rather spend time with us than task us. The parable of the Good Samaritan answers an important question about how to love our neighbor by telling us to “go and do.” But the story of Mary and Martha answers an even more important question about how to love God by telling us to sit and listen.

Please note that Jesus’ reprimand of Martha wasn’t a condemnation. Nor did he even try to dissuade her from her method of loving her neighbor as herself. He simply opened her eyes to see that Mary had chosen differently, and that Mary’s choice was actually the better of the two. Luke doesn’t tell us whether Martha put down her trays and sat at Jesus’ feet to learn from him, or if she went on with the tasks of a hostess. But one thing I think we can assume is that, through Jesus, Mary and Martha became more aware of each other, and of each other’s way of loving God and serving their neighbor.

Some of us here today are Martha, and some of us are Mary. If we learn nothing else from the story of the two sisters, let us remember that it takes both Mary and Martha to make a church complete. But we should also take Jesus’ admonition seriously, that Mary’s way of being a follower of Jesus is the better choice—at least for a time. In order to serve our neighbor, we must first sit at the feet of our Teacher, and learn what it means to love God, and accept what is sometimes so difficult to accept: That no matter who we are, or what’s in our past, or where we are on life’s journey, Jesus wants to spend time with us.

We Are Human Beings, Not Human Doings
Each of us has a different relationship with God, and I cannot decide for you whether or not Jesus’ advice to Martha should change your own way of being a disciple. But I do know that busyness is sometimes a distraction I choose to avoid meaningful questions, and the distraction of doing frequently keeps me from being—being with those with whom I should spend more time, being alone with myself, and being at Jesus’ feet in prayer and in meditating on the scriptures. I suspect I’m not the only one.

Perhaps the rule of thumb is to ask ourselves who is in the driver’s seat. Martha clearly wanted control over her life and her home. Mary placed her trust in Jesus. Martha felt it necessary to tell Jesus what he should say and do. Mary was happy to listen to what Jesus had to say.

We are human beings, not human doings. As human beings, let us be content to be, and to let God guide our doings, rather than to do, and only then to turn to God for affirmation of decisions we tried to make independent of God. In Christ, God invites us to let go of all our distractions and simply be in the presence of the Divine. There are many parts of our humanity that we can choose to emphasize, but, as Jesus reminded Martha, this is the best part, and God’s presence is the one thing that cannot be taken from us.

—©2010 Sam L. Greening, Jr.

Down & Dirty with the Dutch

Because I've spent quite a bit of time on the job in the Netherlands, I've always been sympathetic toward the Dutch. But Holland's soccer displays in the 2010 World Cup in South Africa caused me, in the end, to support Spain in the championship game. I was thrilled when the Spanish won 1-0 in the second period of overtime.

Watching the Dutch play was not a pretty sight, and the best way to describe it comes from Johan Cruyf, a 60's-era member of the Dutch national team, in a SportingLife interview. He was asked if the Dutch could beat the Spanish in the same way that Inter Milan won the Champions League earlier this year. His response: "No, no way at all – not because I hate this style, [but] because I thought that my country wouldn't dare to and would never renounce their style. Without having great players like those of the past, the team has its own style."

He continued, "I was wrong. Of course I'm not hanging all 11 of them by the same rope, but almost. They didn't want the ball. And regrettably, sadly, they played very dirty"

When complaining about officiating in sports, most people complain when the side they support is treated too harshly, when calls go against them. But Cruyf did just the opposite. He complained that the Dutch weren't treated harshly enough. "They should have been down to nine immediately, then they made two [such] ugly and hard tackles that even I felt the damage."

He said Nigel de Jong should've been sent off for his karate kick to Xabi Alonso, and that Robben should've received a second yellow card for kicking the ball away. It wasn't until the second overtime period that John Heitinga was finally sent off after receiving a second yellow.

Cruyf summed up the Dutch performance with these harsh words: "This ugly, vulgar, hard, hermetic, hardly eye-catching, hardly football style, yes it served the Dutch to unsettle Spain. If with this they got satisfaction, fine, but they ended up losing. They were playing anti-football."

In the end, this Dutch team will be forgotten by everyone outside the Netherlands. But let's hope the Dutch remember... that it didn't work in the end.

Link to original interview