Faith? Or religion?

from signoftherose.org

     Our texts this week are all about the rubber meeting the road, practicing what you preach, talking the talk AND walking the walk.  Starting from our first lesson from Deuteronomy 4, where Moses tells us to obey the law, to our lesson from James 1 where the author tells us to be doers of the word, not just hearers, to the gospel from Mark 7 where Jesus gets on the Pharisees for their hypocrisy, the texts are all about being faithful followers of Christ.
     You see, the thing is that the Pharisees from Mark were following Moses' command.  They were remembering the laws that Moses had set down.  They were following them diligently so as to show others their wisdom and discernment.  They were doing what Moses told them to do.  So why did Jesus get upset and call them hypocrites?  I believe it has to do with the last verse from our Deuteronomy reading:

But take care and watch yourselves closely, so as neither to forget the things that your eyes have seen nor to let them slip from your mind all the days of your life. ~ Deuteronomy 4.9

Instead of watching themselves closely, they were watching others.  Instead of remembering the reason for the laws, they remembered the laws themselves.  And most importantly, I believe that they let slip from their mind what they had seen - the salvation of the people Israel by the merciful hand of God.
     Remember, these Deuteronomy texts were written RIGHT AFTER God had saved the Israelites from Pharaoh in Egypt.  God had sent manna and quail in the desert.  God had provided safety, deliverance, and salvation.  And God had promised to be the God, the saving God, of this people forever.  That is why the people received the laws.  They were the laws that bound them to God and God to them.  It was a covenant, an agreement, that by following the law God would continue to be their God because God wanted to save them.
     Which is why Jesus quoted from the prophet Isaiah when he said:

You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition. ~ Mark 7.8

The law had become the religion.  The law had become the thing for which the people lived.  It was no longer faith.  They didn't live to be in relationship with God, they lived to be bound to a teaching, a way of living, a club where you were either in or out based on your ability to follow the rules.
     For many in the United States, this is the perception of Christianity.  It is a bunch of people who believe certain teachings, who live a certain way, and who live in a club where people are in or out based on their behavior.  Instead of faith it is religion.  Instead of freedom it is bondage.  Instead of life it is death.
     But it doesn't have to be this way.  As Martin Luther said, "Faith is a living, daring confidence in God's grace, so sure and certain that [one] could stake [their] life on it a thousand times."  I would much rather stake my life on a God who loves me than on rules which bind me.  I would much rather stake my life on the fact that the creator of the world sent Jesus to save than on the fact that we are supposed to pray and read the Bible every day.  I would much rather stake my life on the life of Jesus than the rules of tradition.
     And in so doing, in living with a faith in Christ, living by the law becomes a joy rather than a burden.  Loving others as Christ loves me becomes a way of life rather than a list of to-dos.  Praying and reading Scripture becomes just another conversation with the savior of the world rather than a drudgery of slogging through meaningless words.
     Therefore, take care and watch yourselves closely, so as neither to forget that God loves you and sent Jesus to save you.  Be doers of the word and not merely hearers, for it is what is within a person that shows their true character.
     So what will it be for you?  Faith?  Or religion?

Why do you stay?

       One. Last. Week. Of bread, that is.  It's been a long four weeks, and as one of our young people said on Sunday, "we've already talked about this!" So this Sunday we have yet one last text from John 6.  It is the conclusion to this month-long teaching about Jesus, the bread of life.  We have a bit of overlap from last Sunday, beginning with the last few verses last week: John 6.56-69. 
      In this week's conclusion of our 5-week series, we come to a pinnacle, a contentious climax of this radical teaching to eat Jesus' flesh and drink Jesus' blood.  It is a turning point - literally for some - in Jesus' ministry.  You see, some found Jesus' teaching so difficult, so offensive, so hard to comprehend, that they turned away. 

"Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him."

     Many of us have these turning points in our lives. Something happens in a relationship - words are said, something is forgotten, or feelings are hurt and we come to a turning point.  Stick it out or leave.  This is true for relationships of all kinds - your relationship with your spouse, sister or brother, coworker, favorite grocery store, and church.
     I can't tell you how many stories I have heard of a church offending families.  A pastor said something at a funeral; a member made some comment; a decision was made that they didn't agree with.  It all boiled down to one thing: they were offended.
 
  So they leave.  Like the earliest disciples, they decide they don't need to take the offense and take off.  Many unfortunately don't ever return to church.  But here's the thing I notice in our text.

It wasn't just the ones who left that were offended.  EVERYONE was offended.  Some chose to go and others chose to stay.

What is the difference, then, between those who stayed and those who didn't?  Both were equally offended.  Both found Jesus' teaching equally difficult.  Both probably wanted to leave.  So what is it?  The key is in their response to Jesus asking if they wanted to leave, too:

Lord, to whom can we go?  YOU have the words of eternal life.

I have a feeling these disciples knew the truth of the matter - as hard, as offensive, as radical as his teaching, Jesus really did have the answer.  Who else was there? What else was there?  They had lived long enough to know that everything they had tried hadn't satisfied them.  So, offended or not, they were in it for good. 

Why do you stay?

Work that isn't work?

     Our second week of bread texts takes us further into John 6.  We skip a few verses and get a section from verse 24-35, getting a section about the Israelite history: manna in the desert.  The crowd, who had just been fed to being satisfied, continued looking for Jesus.  Jesus again sees that their hunger is not just a physical hunger, but a hunger for something more existential.  And he names it right out:
        Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate
        your fill of the loaves.  Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for
        eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.
I find this an incredibly interesting statement - we are supposed to work for something which the Son of Man will give?  Isn't this a little contradictory?  Working for a gift?
     In a church that so fiercely stands by grace alone (that is, God's forgiveness, mercy, and love given freely, without any works on our part) what do we do with a statement like Jesus'?  But then Jesus saves us, once again.  For his answer gives it away:

This is the work of God: that you believe in him whom he has sent.

     Believing in Jesus, the one whom God sent, is the work that endures for eternal life.  John' gospel emphasizes belief, trust, and salvation, all of which are synonymous in these chapters.  After pondering this for many years, I have come to wonder if the real work is actually believing that we don't have to work at all.
     Yesterday we heard about the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000.  I stated that the real miracle is in the sitting and being together - with each other and with Jesus.  That was again a case in which we didn't have to do anything but clear the schedule for a little down time.  Jesus does the work in us, if we believe and make room for him.
     Work that isn't work?  Well, if that's all it takes I will work hard at not working, a thing more difficult than you would think.  But it is only this work that isn't work that lasts for eternal life - love, mercy, forgiveness, grace.  These are things that cannot be earned, bargained for, or attained by any other means other than the goodness of the person giving them.  So it is with Christ.
     He is the giver.  The Spirit works in each of us to help us actually believe that Christ works for us, so that the work we do isn't actually work at all, but is simply being.  Believing that God loves us, knowing that Christ died for us, trusting that the Spirit helps us.  Work that isn't work?  Sign me up.
    

How often do we sit?

     Wow.  Woah.  There aren't words to describe it, no metaphors that come close to conveying, no substitute for the experience of gathering with 33,309 people to worship, sing, dance, and listen.  The reverberations of "and also with you" are still ringing in my chest.  My feet are still jumping, and my hands are still raised, I can still see the waves (literally) of arms moving up and down in a sea of disciples, citizens with the saints.
     The week in New Orleans was amazing, tiring, Spirit-filled, and transformative.  To have that many people gathered together hearing about what it means to be citizens with the saints; to practice peace, justice, and discipleship; to stand up and declare together that they will make a change; to feel God's spirit rain down upon us is like nothing else in the entire world, and I feel as if I am on a high, excited and encouraged to keep on keeping on.
     In short, the week fed my soul.  Hearing from people who are citizens with us but who were (or still are) on the margins is powerful.  Witnessing people from all over, from mixed socioeconomic places, from all around the United States and beyond, talking with a survivor of the Rwandan genocide, with a peacemaker from Malaysia, painting, playing, and eating, fed my soul.  It was a week full of Christ's presence in more tangible ways, perhaps because we were looking for it, perhaps because when that many people gathered the power of Christ is more easily seen, perhaps just because we expected Christ to show up.  And he did.  In the people we met, in the people we passed, in the rain puddles and trash bag swag (ask the kids), in the Holy Spirit filling and inspiring us all. 
     But perhaps the most inspiring, powerful, and God filled moment was when we all gathered around God's table of communion.  33,309 people, all beloved children of God, gathered around the Holy Feast in what was a glimpse of God's kingdom where all people are fed, loved, accepted, and welcome at the eternal table in God's grace.  It took over 1,000 communion assistants, 2,400 loaves of bread, and who knows how many bottles of wine.  We sang for a full 20 minutes as the whole of the gathering put aside differences, made peace, prayed, and ate at God's table.
     If this was an amazing feat in 2012, just imagine what a miracle it would have been in 30 CE.  We are starting a 5-week series on the bread of life taken from John 6.  This week we are focusing on John 6.1-21, a story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 with 5 loaves of barley bread and two fish. In this miracle Christ multiplies and shares the bread and fish with the crowd and there is so much left over they fill twelve baskets full.
     This is a story of abundance, and generosity, fellowship and service, and it is a story about community.  It is a great miracle that Jesus fed so many.  Indeed for such a small amount of food to go such a long way speaks of Christ's desire to feed people, to provide abundance in the seeming scarcity, to praise God for God's grace and love. 
     Now perhaps this is just because I have just come from spending a week with a great crowd, but I am amazed that the disciples manage to get that many people to sit down all at once.  Yes, we all managed to sit in the Superdome, but there were big screens and people with microphones and state-of-the-art sound systems so that we could hear.  This was Galilee.  In the first century.  No stadium seating, no microphones, just twelve disciples charged with making the people to sit.
     And in the sitting together the miracle happened.  All 5,000 were united with the common goal of sharing in a meal.  This makes me wonder.  Do we take the time to sit together?  In our every day lives we become so terribly busy, focused on our own schedules, lives, and events that we forget the significance of taking time to simply sit down together.  Worship is one of the places where we as a faith family sit down and experience the goodness of God - abundance, generosity, fellowship, and most of all grace.
     You see, we do sit down together in many other places but it is only at the table of God that we are truly welcome just as we are - no uniforms, fees, expectations, rules, or responsibilities.  Just an open invitation for all who are hungry to come and experience the goodness of God's love.  When is the last time you took time to simply sit down together?