Sermon delivered Sunday, Feb. 5, 2017 (Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany, Year A) at St. Cuthbert's Episcopal Church, Oakland, CA, as part five of a seven-week preaching series on baptism and the Baptismal Covenant.
Sermon Text(s): Isaiah 58:1-9a, Matthew 5:13:20, Baptismal Covenant Question #1
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.” (Matthew 5:17)
Today’s scripture readings raise questions about what it means to keep tradition. Jesus’s words in the Sermon on the Mount about not coming to abolish the law but to fulfill it may sound surprising to some Christians, who tend to think the Jewish law is irrelevant for us. The early church decided that Gentile converts to the faith did not have to keep the entirety of the Jewish law, and many Reformation-era theologians wrote volumes on how the law was a prison from which Jesus released us, drawing mostly on Paul’s thought. But Jesus himself kept the Jewish law and observed Jewish traditions. He criticized those who focused on the letter of the law at the expense of the spirit behind the law; those who were so concerned about not breaking a commandment that they wouldn’t help someone in need because doing work was forbidden on the Sabbath, for instance. But he never advocated for entirely throwing out the traditions and law of his religion.
“I have come not to abolish but to fulfill,” he says, “For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.” (Matthew 5:17-18)
Our reading from the Hebrew scriptures today also speaks to the question of what it means to keep tradition. The people are questioning why God is not responding to their fasting:
“Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” (Isaiah 58:3a)
And God’s answer, coming through the prophet Isaiah, is that the people may be keeping the letter of the law, going through the motions of the correct rituals, but their behavior is not in line with God’s ethical commandments:
"Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day,
and oppress all your workers.
Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high…
Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?” (Isaiah 58:3b-4, 6)
Now, God has previously commanded them to do just the things they were doing: to “lie in sackcloth and ashes” and to humble themselves. So when he dismisses their actions, saying that is not the fast he chooses, that the fast he chooses is to “loose the bonds of injustice,” he’s not saying that he doesn’t want them to ever observe ritual fasting. He’s not saying lying in sackcloth and ashes and humbling oneself is a BAD thing – he’s just saying that without the ethical behavior it is intended to bring about, it’s worthless. If ALL you do is lie in sackcloth and ashes and don’t help your brothers and sisters in need, your fasting is worthless and God’s not going to take your piety seriously – because you’ve shown by your actions that you don’t really get it.
As we enter week five of this preaching series on baptism, these themes in our readings today invite us to consider the first question of our Baptismal Covenant:
“Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?”
At its core, this question is about keeping tradition, about “following the law,” to the extent that Christians have a concept of religious law. Will you keep teaching what the apostles taught, keep meeting together as the apostles met, keep breaking bread together in the holy meal of the Eucharist as the apostles did, and keep praying as the apostles prayed?
This vow actually comes directly from Scripture – the Book of Acts tells us that after the Gentiles received the Spirit of God at Pentecost and Peter preached to them explaining the significance of all they had heard and seen, about three thousand people were baptized. Acts 2:42 says of these new converts, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
It is significant that this call to keep tradition comes directly from the description of what the earliest converts to Christianity did right after they were baptized. Even the words used to ask this question are part of church tradition!
So what is it exactly that we’re being asked to keep and pass along? What is “the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers?”
The “apostles teaching” refers to the message about Jesus’s birth, life, death, and resurrection that we talked about a few weeks ago, that “good news of God in Christ” that we are called to proclaim: that Jesus is raised from the dead and has defeated death. It is summarized in the Creeds, and the church has continued to expand upon these foundational beliefs through its doctrine and teaching throughout the centuries. When we vow to “continue in the apostles’ teaching,” we are vowing to study the church’s teaching, both what it has taught historically and the way that is taking shape in our own day, and to pass that teaching on to a new generation. When you come to Bible study, when you instruct children in the faith, when you read scripture or books about Christian history or theology, you are “continuing in the apostles’ teaching.”
What about the “apostles’ fellowship”? The church has always been clear that you cannot be a Christian by yourself. Fellowship, community, connection with other Christians is of utmost importance. The apostles came together on a regular basis to encourage one another in their faith and to worship together, and Christians have continued to do that throughout the ages. Even monastics who choose a cloistered life, away from “the world,” have shared the community of other monks or nuns, with only very few choosing a life of solitary hermitage, and even those who did choose that life were connected in some way to a larger praying community. Fellowship is critical. We cannot do this faith thing alone. We need each other.
“The breaking of the bread” is the celebration of the Eucharist – the ceremonial meal that Jesus commanded us to continue “in remembrance of him” until he comes again. It is the central act of worship of the church, and when we are baptized we make a vow to continue in that tradition, to regularly attend and receive Eucharist.
And finally, “the prayers” are the prayers the church has taught us – the Lord’s Prayer, the various litanies and liturgies that the church has passed down to us – as well as individual, personal prayers offered up to God spontaneously from our hearts. We vow to maintain an active prayer life as part of our commitment at our baptism.
This vow – to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers – this vow to preserve and pass on the rituals and traditions of the Christian faith – is foundational to what we vow to do when we are baptized. It is the first question we are asked after we recite the Creed. But it does not stand alone. It is grouped with the other four baptismal vows to show that observing ritual and “maintaining tradition” alone are not enough. This affirms the message of Jesus and the prophets: that ritual observance without proper ethical behavior is meaningless. We can teach the doctrines of the church and come to Eucharist all day long and say all the right prayers, but if we’re not also “seeking and serving Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves,” and “striving for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being,” then we’ve entirely missed the point.
Unfortunately, much of our society has seen too much of the ritual observance and too little of the ethical behavior from the church and has thrown the baby out with the bathwater, assuming that the only important thing is the ethical behavior piece. “What has ritual behavior done for anyone except make them hypocrites? Just ‘strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being’ and you’ve pretty much got it covered.”
But from the church’s perspective, it’s not a question of either/or, but of both/and. It’s not ritual observance OR ethical behavior, it’s ritual observance AND ethical behavior. We can do ethical behavior without ritual observance, sure, but it’s a lot more likely to lead to burnout if we do. Because the ritual observances of the church are there to feed us, to guide us, to sustain us as we do that ethical behavior we’re called to do. We come to Eucharist not just for the sake of coming to Eucharist, not just to blindly obey a rule of the church, but to be renewed and recharged for the work God calls us to do in the world. We read the scripture and church theology not because the church gave us a homework assignment, but because the teachings of the church inspire and motivate us to work for justice and peace, and connect us with the saints who have gone before us, who have walked this path before, who know something about standing up against injustice. In our current day, the voices of Christians who have stood up against injustice in the past: from the earliest apostles who said to the Roman courts, “We must obey God rather than any human authority” (Acts 5:29) to the modern-day prophets like Dietrich Bonhoeffer in 1930s Germany, who challenged his church’s complicity in the Nazis’ rise to power, can inform our own struggles in this new era of American history, providing us with a sense that we are not alone in this work.
We gather in community with other Christians, we receive the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist, and we study the teachings of Christians who have gone before us to support and facilitate the hard work of ethical living and advocating for justice that God calls us to in our own day. Because if ALL we do is come to church and receive Eucharist and study scripture and we don’t offer sanctuary to refugees or feed the hungry or advocate for just governance in our land, our tradition is worthless and God’s not going to take our piety seriously – because we will have shown by our actions that we don’t really get it.
Showing posts with label actions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label actions. Show all posts
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Sunday, December 4, 2016
"Let every heart prepare him room" through repentance during Advent
Sermon delivered Sunday, Dec. 4, 2016 (Second Sunday of Advent, Year A), at St. Cuthbert's Episcopal Church, Oakland, CA.
Sermon Text(s): Matthew 3:1-12, Isaiah 11:1-10
Repentance and joy. They may sound like opposites, but the season of Advent pushes them together in close proximity, making a connection between the serious soul-searching of repentance and the ability to celebrate with abandon, to be free enough to experience true joy.
As we wait expectantly for the coming of Christ – both for our annual celebration of his birth at Christmas and for his Second Coming which is yet to come, we take time to prepare our hearts to receive him. Part of that preparation involves repentance. It involves conducting a “searching and fearless moral inventory” of our lives, in order that we might make amends where amends are necessary and be at peace with ourselves, with others, and with God, so that, as the preface for Advent in our Eucharistic prayer says, when he “come[s] again in power and great triumph to judge the world, we may without shame or fear rejoice to behold his appearing.”
In today’s Gospel reading, John the Baptist, that great prophet who prepared the way for Jesus to begin his preaching and teaching ministry, reminds us that we all need to repent, even those who are sure they are already part of God’s people and have found favor with God.
“Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor;’” John tells the Jewish leaders of his day, “for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.”
John reminds any who might have felt that their lineage as sons and daughters of Abraham entitled them to a sort of “free pass” at the last judgment, who might have thought that they were worthy just by virtue of the fact that they were part of God’s “chosen people,” that they must also live an authentic life of faith that bears visible fruit in their actions. “Bear fruits worthy of repentance,” he tells them. Being a son or daughter of Abraham means nothing, he says, if your life does not bear witness to God’s justice and love.
According to John, bearing fruit is the standard by which we will be judged, not our membership within a particular religious community. We will be judged not by what we’ve said we believed, but by the testimony of our hearts and our lives.
I’m sure that at some point in your life you’ve heard someone comment on the good deeds and sound life of someone who professes no faith at all. The statement usually goes something like this: “I know some atheists who are better Christians than some Christians I know!” What they are pointing to is the issue of bearing fruit. They see many people who say they believe in Christ judging others, saying one thing and doing another, going to church on Sunday but engaging in corrupt business practices or questionable moral behavior during the week – while they see many people who say they have no religious faith feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, working for justice – the very things Christians are called to do. And so, they sigh and say, “Some atheists are better Christians than some Christians I know!”
That’s actually a very biblical statement. It’s essentially what John the Baptist was saying to the first-century Jewish community, and what Jesus would wind up saying to them as well. “Tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you,” Jesus said to the religious leaders of his day (Matthew 21:31). In other words, the supposedly “unfaithful” can actually be more faithful than the faithful at times. This is why the prophets continually call us to repentance, and remind us that bearing fruit is of utmost importance.
But lest we think that “bearing fruit” is simply a matter of doing the right things, the prophets also remind us that doing the right things without the right intentions is equally as empty as trusting in the fact that you were born into the “right” religious community. “Bear fruits worthy of repentance,” John the Baptist says. Repentance is a matter of the heart, of the inner orientation and intentions underlying our actions. Not only is it not enough to be children of Abraham, but it is also not enough to observe the right rituals if our hearts are not in the right place.
“For you have no delight in sacrifice,” writes the psalmist, “if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:16-17). The prophet Amos brings this word of God to the people: “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them… but let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:21-22, 24). The prophet Hosea said God desires mercy, not sacrifice (Hosea 6:6), and Jesus quoted this in his teachings.
In all these passages, the issue is not that the rituals themselves were bad – the people believed God had commanded them to do them – but that the people were doing them without the proper intentions in their hearts, and their lives were not bearing the proper fruit. The apostle Paul echoed this theme in his first letter to the Corinthians, when he insisted that without love – without one’s heart being in the right place – all the most praiseworthy actions on behalf of spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ were utterly worthless. “If I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing,” he wrote (1 Corinthians 13:2). This is a common theme, from the earliest of the Hebrew prophets all the way through the New Testament. Although our faith engages our heads – in our assent to certain beliefs or doctrines – and our hands and feet – in our actions in the world – at the end of the day, the life of faith is ultimately a matter of the heart.
This is why we pray the Collect for Purity at the beginning of every Eucharist: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your Holy Name, through Christ our Lord.” Today’s passage from Isaiah tells us that that “branch from the root of Jesse” that Christians understand to be referring to Jesus will “not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear,” but will judge “with righteousness,” the kind of righteousness that comes from knowing what is in one’s heart. So when we come to church, we might appear to be doing all the “right” things by being here, participating in a ritual that we believe Jesus commanded his followers to continue in his name, but if our hearts are not in the right place, our actions will not please God. And so we pray in the Collect for Purity for God’s assistance in orienting ourselves toward God and cleansing our hearts of any sin within them so that our worship of God may be an authentic expression of love and praise.
The word “Advent” means “coming,” and the early church fathers spoke of three “advents” in the Christian religion: the first coming of Christ, in his birth at Bethlehem in the first century, the second coming of Christ to judge the world at the end of time, and the daily coming of Christ into the hearts of individual believers. Without that third advent, the first and second advents won’t have much meaning to us. In the season of Advent, we do not only remember what has already been and wait for what is to come, but celebrate what currently is: the presence of Christ with us every day in our hearts -- and in the hearts of believers around the world.
“Let every heart prepare him room,” says the Christmas hymn “Joy to the World,” and that is indeed the work of Advent, the work of examining our hearts and opening them to receive the coming of Christ that is available to us every day. It is through the heart-cleansing work of repentance that we might be able to experience the joy of Christ’s presence among us.
Sermon Text(s): Matthew 3:1-12, Isaiah 11:1-10
Repentance and joy. They may sound like opposites, but the season of Advent pushes them together in close proximity, making a connection between the serious soul-searching of repentance and the ability to celebrate with abandon, to be free enough to experience true joy.
As we wait expectantly for the coming of Christ – both for our annual celebration of his birth at Christmas and for his Second Coming which is yet to come, we take time to prepare our hearts to receive him. Part of that preparation involves repentance. It involves conducting a “searching and fearless moral inventory” of our lives, in order that we might make amends where amends are necessary and be at peace with ourselves, with others, and with God, so that, as the preface for Advent in our Eucharistic prayer says, when he “come[s] again in power and great triumph to judge the world, we may without shame or fear rejoice to behold his appearing.”
In today’s Gospel reading, John the Baptist, that great prophet who prepared the way for Jesus to begin his preaching and teaching ministry, reminds us that we all need to repent, even those who are sure they are already part of God’s people and have found favor with God.
“Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor;’” John tells the Jewish leaders of his day, “for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.”
John reminds any who might have felt that their lineage as sons and daughters of Abraham entitled them to a sort of “free pass” at the last judgment, who might have thought that they were worthy just by virtue of the fact that they were part of God’s “chosen people,” that they must also live an authentic life of faith that bears visible fruit in their actions. “Bear fruits worthy of repentance,” he tells them. Being a son or daughter of Abraham means nothing, he says, if your life does not bear witness to God’s justice and love.
According to John, bearing fruit is the standard by which we will be judged, not our membership within a particular religious community. We will be judged not by what we’ve said we believed, but by the testimony of our hearts and our lives.
I’m sure that at some point in your life you’ve heard someone comment on the good deeds and sound life of someone who professes no faith at all. The statement usually goes something like this: “I know some atheists who are better Christians than some Christians I know!” What they are pointing to is the issue of bearing fruit. They see many people who say they believe in Christ judging others, saying one thing and doing another, going to church on Sunday but engaging in corrupt business practices or questionable moral behavior during the week – while they see many people who say they have no religious faith feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, working for justice – the very things Christians are called to do. And so, they sigh and say, “Some atheists are better Christians than some Christians I know!”
That’s actually a very biblical statement. It’s essentially what John the Baptist was saying to the first-century Jewish community, and what Jesus would wind up saying to them as well. “Tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you,” Jesus said to the religious leaders of his day (Matthew 21:31). In other words, the supposedly “unfaithful” can actually be more faithful than the faithful at times. This is why the prophets continually call us to repentance, and remind us that bearing fruit is of utmost importance.
But lest we think that “bearing fruit” is simply a matter of doing the right things, the prophets also remind us that doing the right things without the right intentions is equally as empty as trusting in the fact that you were born into the “right” religious community. “Bear fruits worthy of repentance,” John the Baptist says. Repentance is a matter of the heart, of the inner orientation and intentions underlying our actions. Not only is it not enough to be children of Abraham, but it is also not enough to observe the right rituals if our hearts are not in the right place.
“For you have no delight in sacrifice,” writes the psalmist, “if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:16-17). The prophet Amos brings this word of God to the people: “I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them… but let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:21-22, 24). The prophet Hosea said God desires mercy, not sacrifice (Hosea 6:6), and Jesus quoted this in his teachings.
In all these passages, the issue is not that the rituals themselves were bad – the people believed God had commanded them to do them – but that the people were doing them without the proper intentions in their hearts, and their lives were not bearing the proper fruit. The apostle Paul echoed this theme in his first letter to the Corinthians, when he insisted that without love – without one’s heart being in the right place – all the most praiseworthy actions on behalf of spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ were utterly worthless. “If I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing,” he wrote (1 Corinthians 13:2). This is a common theme, from the earliest of the Hebrew prophets all the way through the New Testament. Although our faith engages our heads – in our assent to certain beliefs or doctrines – and our hands and feet – in our actions in the world – at the end of the day, the life of faith is ultimately a matter of the heart.
This is why we pray the Collect for Purity at the beginning of every Eucharist: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your Holy Name, through Christ our Lord.” Today’s passage from Isaiah tells us that that “branch from the root of Jesse” that Christians understand to be referring to Jesus will “not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear,” but will judge “with righteousness,” the kind of righteousness that comes from knowing what is in one’s heart. So when we come to church, we might appear to be doing all the “right” things by being here, participating in a ritual that we believe Jesus commanded his followers to continue in his name, but if our hearts are not in the right place, our actions will not please God. And so we pray in the Collect for Purity for God’s assistance in orienting ourselves toward God and cleansing our hearts of any sin within them so that our worship of God may be an authentic expression of love and praise.
The word “Advent” means “coming,” and the early church fathers spoke of three “advents” in the Christian religion: the first coming of Christ, in his birth at Bethlehem in the first century, the second coming of Christ to judge the world at the end of time, and the daily coming of Christ into the hearts of individual believers. Without that third advent, the first and second advents won’t have much meaning to us. In the season of Advent, we do not only remember what has already been and wait for what is to come, but celebrate what currently is: the presence of Christ with us every day in our hearts -- and in the hearts of believers around the world.
“Let every heart prepare him room,” says the Christmas hymn “Joy to the World,” and that is indeed the work of Advent, the work of examining our hearts and opening them to receive the coming of Christ that is available to us every day. It is through the heart-cleansing work of repentance that we might be able to experience the joy of Christ’s presence among us.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Always be ready to make your defense for the hope that is in you...
Sermon delivered Sunday, May 25, 2014 (at the 7:30 a.m. and 6 p.m. services; bishop's annual visitation at 8:45 and 11:00 meant the bishop was preaching) at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Franklin, TN
6th Sunday of Easter, Year A
(Acts 17:22-31, 1 Peter 3:13-22, John 14:15-21)
“Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3:15-16)
This line from our reading from 1 Peter today is one of my favorite scriptures on the topic of evangelism.
Now, I know that the subject of evangelism can make some of us in the Episcopal Church uncomfortable – we tend to associate evangelism with the street corner preacher telling everyone to “repent or perish,” with people who bring a message of “I’m right and you’re wrong.” We tend to think that evangelism is synonymous with that triumphalist message that Ann was talking about in her sermon last week – a message that says Christians have the market cornered on knowledge of God and everyone else is damned.
Many of us who are not cradle Episcopalians chose this church because we liked the fact that it is not about using the Bible as a weapon and shoving our faith down other people’s throats, so whenever the topic of evangelism comes up, we get a little squirmy. Maybe we thought we left that behind with those “other” churches. But evangelism doesn’t have to be synonymous with those negative images. Evangelism simply means sharing the good news – the good news of Jesus’s resurrection and the content of his teachings. Evangelism is about bringing a positive message, a liberating message, a message of love and reconciliation. Evangelism is about sharing with others the reason for the hope that is in us, as 1 Peter says.
Many Episcopalians think about sharing their faith through their actions rather than through words. We certainly don’t want to be the street corner preacher, and we don’t want to push our faith on anyone else, so we figure we’ll just share our faith by example through the good deeds we do in the world. I’ve heard many people within the Episcopal Church – myself included! – reference St. Francis of Assisi’s famous statement on evangelism to describe their approach: “Preach the Gospel at all times; if necessary, use words.” While there is deep wisdom in that statement about allowing our lives to be our testimonies, sometimes we hear that statement as an excuse never to use words. Instead of “Preach the Gospel at all times; if necessary, use words,” we hear it as, “Preach the Gospel at all times; it’s not necessary to use words.” But that’s not what St. Francis was saying. It is necessary to use words sometimes. We lose something when, in our desire to not be like those overbearing street preachers, we go to the opposite extreme of never talking about our faith to others. For one thing, we cede the market to the street corner preachers because theirs are the only voices being heard. Our voices are silenced because we’re so focused on feeding the hungry and working for justice that we forget to talk about why we’re feeing the hungry and working for justice – what the faith is that motivates us to do this work.
If we don’t talk about why we’re living our lives the way we are, we really are not distinguishable from any number of other people who may be doing similar things. People of many other faiths and none can and do feed the hungry and work for justice – so those things do not make us unique as Christians, nor are they the definition of what it means to be Christian. What defines us as Christians is our faith in Jesus, and our commitment to follow him as our Lord. Yes, that commitment is fleshed out by the way we live our lives, but our actions in and of themselves cannot express the specific words of our faith. Our actions, by themselves, cannot literally say, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” We must use words to do that. In our baptismal covenant, we promise to “proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ” (BCP 305) – notice that it says “by word and example” – not just “by example.”
We are reminded of this call to use words to share the content of our faith especially during this Easter season when we recall how the church spread throughout the Mediterranean world in the first century – all through people speaking to others about their faith, sharing the news of Jesus’s resurrection. The tradition of reading through the book of Acts during Easter season reminds us of the evangelism of the early church and how they spread the faith throughout their entire known world.
In today’s reading from Acts, we have Paul’s famous speech to the Athenians, persuading them of the truth of the Christian message and inviting them to join the church. This speech has long been considered a model evangelism speech, because Paul meets the people where they are, acknowledging the truth in their own tradition, quoting some of their own poets, and working to rationally persuade them of the truth of his faith. While Paul certainly had his share of arrogance and triumphalism, tending to think his way was the only right way – whether he was persecuting the church or advocating for it – in this passage we see Paul at least willing to concede that others might have had some glimpse of the truth before Paul came on the scene, and presenting his argument in a way that is framed as good news – “I come to bring you more full knowledge of something that you yourselves have said you do not fully know.”
But even though Paul’s speech has been held up as a model for evangelism, I still prefer the approach in 1 Peter. “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3:15-16) The assumption behind this statement is that we are always ready to explain our faith to others, but in general, we wait for them to ask. And, it also assumes that they’re asking because of the way we’re living, because of something about us that is different, because of something they see in us that they wish they had. The impetus behind us sharing our faith comes not from our desire to “fix” others, but from others’ curiosity at how we can live our lives with such hope and faith.
Although Paul was a wonderful wordsmith, even he recognized that all the words in the world are worthless if they are not backed up by actions. “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal,” he says in 1 Corinthians (1 Cor. 13:1). And Jesus says in our Gospel today that if we love him, we will keep his commandments (John 14:15). In another passage, in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, Jesus says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven” (Matthew 7:21). Words by themselves are not enough, just as actions by themselves are not enough. The way I read this statement from 1 Peter, we have to be truly “walking the walk” in order to earn the privilege of speaking about our faith. To me, this seems like a good recipe for ensuring a healthy balance between evangelism by word and evangelism by example. If we want to speak about our faith to others, our lives have to be saying something loudly enough that someone asks for us to translate.
But it also requires that we have done the intentional work of thinking about why we have faith, why we have hope – so that when someone asks us, we have an answer ready. Just because our usual modus operandi is to share our faith through our actions rather than through our words doesn’t mean that we therefore have no words to explain why we do what we do. When someone asks us about our faith, we should be ready to explain it to them. And we should be living in such a way that compels people to ask.
So what is the hope that is in you? What would you say if someone asked you how you can believe in God, about why Jesus is so important to you, about how you can live with faith and hope? Are you ready to give an account for the hope that is in you?
If you feel like you’re not sure what you’d say, or worry that you aren’t the most eloquent speaker in the world, remember that many of our biblical leaders felt the same way. Jesus reassures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will be with them, to lead them into all truth and to give them the words to say. So when someone asks, take a deep breath, ask for guidance from the Spirit, and tell them about your faith.
6th Sunday of Easter, Year A
(Acts 17:22-31, 1 Peter 3:13-22, John 14:15-21)
“Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3:15-16)
This line from our reading from 1 Peter today is one of my favorite scriptures on the topic of evangelism.
Now, I know that the subject of evangelism can make some of us in the Episcopal Church uncomfortable – we tend to associate evangelism with the street corner preacher telling everyone to “repent or perish,” with people who bring a message of “I’m right and you’re wrong.” We tend to think that evangelism is synonymous with that triumphalist message that Ann was talking about in her sermon last week – a message that says Christians have the market cornered on knowledge of God and everyone else is damned.
Many of us who are not cradle Episcopalians chose this church because we liked the fact that it is not about using the Bible as a weapon and shoving our faith down other people’s throats, so whenever the topic of evangelism comes up, we get a little squirmy. Maybe we thought we left that behind with those “other” churches. But evangelism doesn’t have to be synonymous with those negative images. Evangelism simply means sharing the good news – the good news of Jesus’s resurrection and the content of his teachings. Evangelism is about bringing a positive message, a liberating message, a message of love and reconciliation. Evangelism is about sharing with others the reason for the hope that is in us, as 1 Peter says.
Many Episcopalians think about sharing their faith through their actions rather than through words. We certainly don’t want to be the street corner preacher, and we don’t want to push our faith on anyone else, so we figure we’ll just share our faith by example through the good deeds we do in the world. I’ve heard many people within the Episcopal Church – myself included! – reference St. Francis of Assisi’s famous statement on evangelism to describe their approach: “Preach the Gospel at all times; if necessary, use words.” While there is deep wisdom in that statement about allowing our lives to be our testimonies, sometimes we hear that statement as an excuse never to use words. Instead of “Preach the Gospel at all times; if necessary, use words,” we hear it as, “Preach the Gospel at all times; it’s not necessary to use words.” But that’s not what St. Francis was saying. It is necessary to use words sometimes. We lose something when, in our desire to not be like those overbearing street preachers, we go to the opposite extreme of never talking about our faith to others. For one thing, we cede the market to the street corner preachers because theirs are the only voices being heard. Our voices are silenced because we’re so focused on feeding the hungry and working for justice that we forget to talk about why we’re feeing the hungry and working for justice – what the faith is that motivates us to do this work.
If we don’t talk about why we’re living our lives the way we are, we really are not distinguishable from any number of other people who may be doing similar things. People of many other faiths and none can and do feed the hungry and work for justice – so those things do not make us unique as Christians, nor are they the definition of what it means to be Christian. What defines us as Christians is our faith in Jesus, and our commitment to follow him as our Lord. Yes, that commitment is fleshed out by the way we live our lives, but our actions in and of themselves cannot express the specific words of our faith. Our actions, by themselves, cannot literally say, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” We must use words to do that. In our baptismal covenant, we promise to “proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ” (BCP 305) – notice that it says “by word and example” – not just “by example.”
We are reminded of this call to use words to share the content of our faith especially during this Easter season when we recall how the church spread throughout the Mediterranean world in the first century – all through people speaking to others about their faith, sharing the news of Jesus’s resurrection. The tradition of reading through the book of Acts during Easter season reminds us of the evangelism of the early church and how they spread the faith throughout their entire known world.
In today’s reading from Acts, we have Paul’s famous speech to the Athenians, persuading them of the truth of the Christian message and inviting them to join the church. This speech has long been considered a model evangelism speech, because Paul meets the people where they are, acknowledging the truth in their own tradition, quoting some of their own poets, and working to rationally persuade them of the truth of his faith. While Paul certainly had his share of arrogance and triumphalism, tending to think his way was the only right way – whether he was persecuting the church or advocating for it – in this passage we see Paul at least willing to concede that others might have had some glimpse of the truth before Paul came on the scene, and presenting his argument in a way that is framed as good news – “I come to bring you more full knowledge of something that you yourselves have said you do not fully know.”
But even though Paul’s speech has been held up as a model for evangelism, I still prefer the approach in 1 Peter. “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” (1 Peter 3:15-16) The assumption behind this statement is that we are always ready to explain our faith to others, but in general, we wait for them to ask. And, it also assumes that they’re asking because of the way we’re living, because of something about us that is different, because of something they see in us that they wish they had. The impetus behind us sharing our faith comes not from our desire to “fix” others, but from others’ curiosity at how we can live our lives with such hope and faith.
Although Paul was a wonderful wordsmith, even he recognized that all the words in the world are worthless if they are not backed up by actions. “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal,” he says in 1 Corinthians (1 Cor. 13:1). And Jesus says in our Gospel today that if we love him, we will keep his commandments (John 14:15). In another passage, in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, Jesus says, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only one who does the will of my Father in heaven” (Matthew 7:21). Words by themselves are not enough, just as actions by themselves are not enough. The way I read this statement from 1 Peter, we have to be truly “walking the walk” in order to earn the privilege of speaking about our faith. To me, this seems like a good recipe for ensuring a healthy balance between evangelism by word and evangelism by example. If we want to speak about our faith to others, our lives have to be saying something loudly enough that someone asks for us to translate.
But it also requires that we have done the intentional work of thinking about why we have faith, why we have hope – so that when someone asks us, we have an answer ready. Just because our usual modus operandi is to share our faith through our actions rather than through our words doesn’t mean that we therefore have no words to explain why we do what we do. When someone asks us about our faith, we should be ready to explain it to them. And we should be living in such a way that compels people to ask.
So what is the hope that is in you? What would you say if someone asked you how you can believe in God, about why Jesus is so important to you, about how you can live with faith and hope? Are you ready to give an account for the hope that is in you?
If you feel like you’re not sure what you’d say, or worry that you aren’t the most eloquent speaker in the world, remember that many of our biblical leaders felt the same way. Jesus reassures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will be with them, to lead them into all truth and to give them the words to say. So when someone asks, take a deep breath, ask for guidance from the Spirit, and tell them about your faith.
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