Although
I thought Hebrews a weird place from which to preach stewardship last week, it
seems to have resonated. I have been
engaged in a number of follow up conversations in Bible studies and other
groups as well as individual conversations.
I have been particularly pleased to hear that most folks have not
focused on the money side of our thankfulness, that people understood what I
thought God was calling me to teach last week, that we are to respond to
everything in our lives in love and thanksgiving for the work He has
accomplished on our behalf. Financial
stewardship is an easy way to measure such thankfulness, but folks certainly
have other ways of living as a true counter-cultural herald of the Gospel. In that sense, it has been a great week.
Unfortunately for both of us, the world rolls on, as does the
lectionary. As much as we might want to
bask in the glow of thankful giving, we are thrust ahead in the stories of
Scripture. In our OT reading, we get the
story of Hannah, a faithful woman who is unable to get pregnant for many years,
who bears a son and prophet named Samuel to the glory of God, in spite of the
men around her, including a priest, who are indifferent to or misunderstand her
plight.
In our
Gospel lesson, we get the so-called prophesy of Jesus that tells of the
destruction of the Temple. The disciples
are impressed by the size of the Temple.
Only those who lived during the splendor of Solomon’s Temple to God
would have been unimpressed! The
disciple points out to Jesus the magnificence and permanence of the Temple only
to have Jesus tell him that all of it will be destroyed. The apostles, of course, ask for a bit more
information. Jesus tells them to listen
to His teaching and ignore the voices of the false teachers that will follow. All these things, He tells them, are but
birth pangs of the Kingdom of God. For
those of you who know history, Jesus was correct. Rome attacked Judea again in 66AD. The result of that war was the utter
destruction of Israel and the obliteration of the Temple in 70AD.
Since I
have acknowledged two of the four readings, you’ve no doubt figured out I will
likely be preaching on Hebrews again this week.
Given the conversations this week, and in particular on the system of
sacrifice in the Temple, it seemed an obvious place to go. People have argued with me that repentance
and forgiveness are too easy, ignoring that looming fact that Jesus suffered
and died for our sins to make it “easy” for us.
I wonder, naturally, how easy it really is for us. If it is so easy, why do not more people take
Him or the Church up on His offer? Put a
bit more practically, what is lost following Jesus if we are wrong? What is lost if rejecting Jesus is wrong? Ouch.
Too deep this early on a Sunday?
I have
had a number of great conversations on the mechanics of worship under the
sacrificial Temple system. Suffice it to
say, most Adventers are not thrilled at the prospect of slaughtering their own
animals for their sins. I have teased a
few that they should give more since the sacrifice of money has replaced the
sacrifice of life in the blood in the new system, but I get their unease. I have also recommended Nathan’s book on
temple worship for those who are looking for the connections between the
Temple, our worship, and what is happening in God’s holy Temple to those who
really want to spend time in various rabbit holes.
I have
even had a few conversations about the relative ease of being a priest in the
Church versus being a priest in the OT days.
As a couple Adventers put it, I don’t have to worry, really worry, about
God zapping me because I do stuff wrong.
Imagine my fear and trembling if I had to wear bells and a rope. I have reminded people that Jesus Himself
tightened that noose for us clergy and pastors.
Those who are called to be pastors and teachers and warned by our Lord
that the millstone around our neck would be a better outcome than what He has
planned for us, if we cause members of the flock to stumble. I have even reminded people that they are
free to move from church to church as their whims move them. I am charged by God to pastor all His flock,
even the ones who hate me and work hard against me, and get them all to His
Holy City. The path, it is true, is made
plain by Jesus, but it is left for us pastors to coax the sheep who stubbornly
want to take a shortcut through a valley of death or bramble patch to get them
and keep them on the right road. And if
I ever get to the point where I encourage such sheep to go their own way, I run
the risk of that worse punishment. I
know. Y’all thought this job was working
for a couple hours on Sunday mornings and full of glory and privilege. It’s quite a bit different than you think. At least we are compensated as if people
value the cure of their souls.
Ouch! A stewardship zinger close
to Thanksgiving? That hardly seems fair!
I was,
though, drawn back to Hebrews this week.
Part of the draw was that four letter word in the new church, atonement,
and its importance to us. In
conversations with those Adventers who wondered whether their sins were covered
by Jesus in the aftermath of our quick sojourn through Job and in conversations
this week about what has been accomplished for us by Christ, the discussion of
atonement came up. I had to chuckle as
some wider Episcopal forums in which I participate were also discussing whether
such teaching was “in error” or “out of touch with the world,” as if we should
ever worry that our teachings are out of touch with the world. Guess what, our teachings are supposed to be
“in touch” with God, no matter what the world thinks. And, as we begin to speed toward the feast of
the Incarnation, St. John will repeatedly remind us that the world rejects the
One who created and redeemed it, but that’s a sermon for next month.
What has
been done for us, why is it important, and what are the consequence of what has
been done for us?—All our questions with which you and I should struggle. Last week, particularly in conversations in
my office and in Bible studies, we reflected on the life of a sincere believer
during OT times. Were you and I living
in the time between Solomon and Jesus, barring the Exile, we would be expected
to offer animal sacrifice for our sins.
We would evaluate our lives, assuming we were faithful and not
“cultural” Jews like folks who claim to be “cultural” Christians, and figure
out what sins we had committed since our last sacrifice. In the beginning, we would walk or carry our
appropriate animal to the Temple to be sacrificed. The priest would hold or bind the animal
accordingly and we would kill it. The
priest would butcher the animal, burning the appropriate sacrifice, and then we
would be given part of the meat back and sent out into the world to share in our
joy at our forgiveness. I compared it
once to the greatest potluck or tailgating experience the earth has ever know. And this all took place in an age when meat
was a sign of wealth and opulence. There
was no McDonald’s to get meatish products into the mouths and stomachs of the
hoi polloi. We knew the cost of our
forgiveness. We had taken the life from
the blood of the animal that dies in our place.
And we were sent out with that meat to proclaim our joy and to invite
others to share in our wonder and joy and being made righteous before God.
Now, as
Christians (and so did the Jews), we understand the offering was not because
God like the smell of burnt flesh or because we needed to make ourselves holy
in His eyes again. It was a type and
shadow of the cost of our true righteousness, of our true deliverance. Paul, perhaps, understood this best of all,
how many times does St. Paul remind us that he was righteous under the
law. Paul is not bragging, nor is he
mistaken. He sinned. But he fulfilled the obligation of atoning
for those sins under the law. In the
moments between that sacrifice and his next sin, Paul was righteous. Of course, we also know it was Paul’s faith
in God and God’s system that truly caused God to judge him as righteous, but
that is another sermon for another time.
Think of
that life, though. Imagine we lived in
OT days. Day after day you would bring
doves and goats and lambs and oxen, during those particularly bad periods of
your lives. You would sacrifice the
animal for your sins, and I would butcher the animal and pronounce you righteous
under the law . . . again. And we would
repeat that ritual as long as you lived and I was priest. Imagine the blood. Imagine the loss of life. How much more would we mourn the loss of that
life when it came from our own herds?
What
happens now, though when we gather? What
sacrifice are you and I offering? That’s
a real question. What sacrifice are we
offering to God during the Eucharist?
That’s right! A sacrifice of
praise and thanksgiving! What makes that
sacrifice acceptable to God? The fact
that Jesus offered Himself for our sins.
Think
back to the little you know about the sacrificial system of the OT. What is usually offered? Good!
Unblemished, first born lambs!
That’s a great place to start, since Jesus in the Lamb. Maybe that imagery makes a bit more sense to
you now than a few weeks ago. The
animals offered did have to be without blemish, though. More costly sins required first born, but
some sins required only an unblemished animal.
In what way was Jesus unblemished?
Wow! You guys are engaged today. That’s right!
He did not sin. What makes Jesus
the appropriate sacrifice for the worst of sins? Unblemished and first born! See how the OT system points to the need for
the atonement of Jesus? Paul actually
understood what he was talking about.
His three years wrestling with what he thought he knew and the fact that
he had encountered the Risen Jesus pointed him to this.
Look at
our author of Hebrews today and how he or she picks up on that. Every day every priest makes the same
sacrifices. Can those sacrifices take
away sin? No. But Jesus, being the firstborn and with
blemish can. Because He lived a life in
perfect submission to the will of God, His sacrifice is of infinitely more
valuable than anything you and I can offer.
What livestock could we offer in His place? How much money is such an offering
worth? In light of such magnificence and
uniqueness, what can we truly offer by comparison other than praise and
thanksgiving?
Our
editors, unfortunately, skip over the next four verses. They are rather important in the author’s
understanding of Christ’s work. The
author takes the reader back to Jeremiah , in particular, and reminds each one
of us that God intended all along to write His laws on our hearts and in our
minds. That authoring is made possible
only through the flesh and blood of Jesus.
Only through Jesus’ obedience unto death are you and I made ready to
receive His law on our hearts and in our minds.
Until that point in salvation history, His torah is an external
evaluator. Now, though, through the
indwelling Holy Spirit, the torah is written on our hearts and on our
minds. We may not study the torah very
much, but the presence of the Holy Spirit in our minds and hearts makes us look
like rabbinical or scribal experts!
And
because Jesus’ offering for sins was perfect—because He was the Firstborn Son
and the Son without blemish, there is no need for further offerings on our
part. So when we gather week in and week
out to remind ourselves what He has done, we give Him thanks and praise.
Last week
I spoke a bit about the fear and trembling of faithful people and priests
during the Day of Atonement. If we were
truly trying to live a life pleasing to God, we would be worried about those
sins unknown and those things left undone that were beneath our notice. Conscientious priests and people likely truly
worried each and every time the Day of Atonement came around. What if the priest forgot part of the
ritual? What if another member of the
people forgot to offer the appropriate sacrifices? What if this was the time where God declares
He is sick and tired of our stiff-necks?
The pulling back of that curtain of the Holy of Holies served as a
public and visible reminder of the mercy of God. For a few minutes each year, all could see
the Mercy Seat and be reminded of the Lord who had called them into relationship
with Him and each other!
After a
few minutes, of course, the high priest would instruct the others to close the
curtain. God does not tolerate sin. The longer the curtain remained pulled back,
the greater the increasing danger. Now,
of course, we are under the blessing of the great High Priest, Jesus
Christ. Now we know we share eternally
in His righteousness and holiness. To
use the language of our Baptist brothers and sisters, we have been washed in
the Blood of the Lamb. To use the language
of our worship and baptism and the language of the author of Hebrews, we have
been washed clean with pure water and our hearts and consciences sprinkled
clean! Now we can approach boldly. We can ask of God anything, because He knows
us and loves us and is proud of us in His Son our Lord Christ. That curtain, that veil, has been torn
aside! And you and I can approach God
boldly, assuredly.
Make no
mistake, brothers and sisters, it is an incredible promise. Because of Him, you and I have full
assurance. Because of His work, you and
I have full communion with our Lord God.
And it is a promise of which we need to be reminded from time to
time. I heard it the last couple weeks
and over our stroll through Job, that specific sins were too much or that
repentance and forgiveness were too easy.
In wider church forums the discussions were worried that the focus of
atonement meant salvation was too much about Jesus and not enough about
us. Even our author reminds us that
there is a danger, when we do not remind ourselves of God’s promise and God’s
truth, that we can be misled. One of the
reasons we come together to worship God is to remind ourselves of those
promises, of His enduring faithfulness, and of our need for Him. But in that quest for reminding ourselves, we
should also discover something far more important to us. To make this all possible, to make it
possible for you and I to enter boldly and assuredly into His presence, our Lord
had to make that possible. In human
terms, we would say that He had to figure out how to balance His righteousness,
His justice, His mercy, His wrath toward sin, and all those other characteristics
about God that we so lovingly admire. Of
course, before the foundation of the world He knew this was the plan of
salvation, but you get the idea. The
chasm that existed between us because of our sins could not be overcome by
anything we did or had to offer. It
could only be overcome by our Lord Christ, the Son of God and architect of our
salvation.
And that “easy”
thing that you and I do, where we are baptized into His death and Resurrection,
that easy thing where we accept His blood and His flesh as the atoning
sacrifice for our sins? That easy thing
for us is His enduring testimony to us of His love for us! How can we approach His throne boldly and
assuredly? How do we know that He has
made us worthy to stand before Him, to use our Eucharist language? Because He willed Himself to accept the
humiliation, the pain, and the death.
Had Christ Jesus wished the suffering over, it would have ended. Had Christ Jesus thought to Himself that the
angels needed to rescue Him, they would have.
But He willed Himself to His purpose.
And while the benefits of His death and Resurrection are still unimaginable
to us, we have that ultimate testimony of His love for each one of us in what
we call the Passion and death of Christ.
While we did not yet believe, still He died for us, and not just for us,
but for all those in the world with us.
The
internal and external struggles regarding the fancy word we call atonement are
understandable. On an internal level who
wants to think that our life cost the life of another animal, let alone the Son
of God? Who really wants to acknowledge that
our sins are messy, filthy, disgusting?
We like to pretend we are the ones who cost Jesus a whisker pull or
maybe a blindfolded punch. We like to
pretend we can clean up all the messes we make.
On an external level, who really wants to remind people that they are
messy, that their way of living often puts them in opposition to the Lord and
Creator? It’s not exactly the best
marketing plan.
Yet that
was precisely His plan of salvation from the beginning of the world. He knew before He made us that we would not
trust Him. He knew before He made us
that we would dishonor Him and hurt one another. Yet, because of His love for each of us, He
made it possible for us to return to His Fatherly arms. He made possible what was most impossible in
the work and person of His Son our Lord.
Brothers and sisters, you are dearly loved by our Lord. You and I were redeemed at the ultimate cost
to Him. And just as He loves us He loves
all those around us. And so, as the
author this morning reminds, let us always approach Him boldly and assuredly with
whatever concerns that prick our consciences, and let us exhort one another to
good deeds and sacrificing love as first modeled for us in Christ Jesus, even
as we long, absolutely long, for that Day of His appearing!
In Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
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