"Spiritual but not religious?" Let's be the kind of "religious" Jesus was

Sermon delivered Sunday, Jan. 31, 2016 (4th Sunday After the Epiphany, Year C), at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Fremont, CA (where I was filling in as a supply priest). Audio (but no video) posted below on Vimeo.

(1 Corinthians 13:1-13, Luke 4:21-30)

Our Gospel passage from Luke today describes Jesus’s return to his hometown of Nazareth after beginning his ministry in other parts of Galilee. The homecoming does not end well: while the people are initially impressed with his preaching, the story ends with them running him out of town and trying to throw him off a cliff! Jesus observes, in a now oft-quoted statement: “no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown.”

But it’s not just in his hometown that Jesus is rejected; he offends lots of people and almost gets attacked in several different stories throughout the Gospels, and of course, ultimately ends up crucified. It was not just his childhood friends and neighbors who found Jesus’s teachings hard to accept or threatening, it was many, many people – and most of them highly religious people.

In reading commentaries on today’s Gospel text, I came across an article titled, “Why Religious People Reject Christ.” Why Religious People Reject Christ. The author points to the fact that today, as in the time of Jesus, “most opposition [to the work of God] comes from the religious crowd, not from those outside.”[1] It’s always the people who are the most passionate about and devoted to their faith who are the most threatened by any criticism of it, even when that criticism is well-deserved.

“Religious people” don’t fare too well in the Gospel texts. It’s the religious leaders and the highly devout who reject Jesus, and ultimately come to call for his execution. Most of the prophets throughout the Hebrew Bible are rejected and scorned by “religious people” as well. Prophets come to remind the faithful of what it truly means to follow God, but they are met with resistance from those who think they already have it all figured out. In today’s particular example, the people of Nazareth are so offended by Jesus reminding them – with stories from their own scriptures, by the way – that God can and does work outside of the people of Israel that they almost kill him. They are so sure that they alone are deserving of God’s favor that the very idea that God would neglect lepers and widows in need in Israel while blessing and healing people who would normally be considered enemies of Israel – a leper who is a commander of the Syrian army and a widow who is a Canaanite, one of the people the Israelites had been commanded to drive out of the land so they could possess it – sends them into a rage. How dare God show mercy on anyone other than us? And how dare you suggest that somehow that has something to do with the fulfillment of God’s purpose?

This kind of thinking is alive and well today, as we all know. There’s a modern “parable” that says that a public sinner was excommunicated and forbidden entry to the church. So he takes his case to God in protest: ‘They won’t let me in, Lord, because I am a sinner,’ he says. ‘What are you complaining about?’ God responds. ‘They won’t let me in either.’[2]

It’s likely because of those kinds of “religious people” that an increasing number of Americans are rejecting organized religion – the latest surveys show that up to 20% of the population now does not claim any particular religious affiliation. [3] When asked, many of them will tell you they are “spiritual but not religious.” Perhaps you’ve heard that line before; perhaps you’ve even said it yourself at some point. Because being “religious” has gotten a bad rep because the “religious” people are the ones who are so often uptight about things, the ones who draw lines around who’s in and who’s out, the ones who manage to take the fun out of everything.

People who say they are “spiritual but not religious” often point out the hypocrisy within organized religion and the ways in which it is used to control or exploit people. They take issue with any group of people thinking that God chooses or prefers them over others, and point out that when people think they have all the answers, not only do they shut out God, but they shut out other people, in the most extreme cases leading to dehumanization and violence.

This critique of religion is really nothing new – in an interesting twist, these modern religiously unaffiliated people are echoing the words of the biblical prophets!

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus says to the “religious people” of his day. “For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven. For you do not go in yourselves, and when others are going in, you stop them. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you cross sea and land to make a single convert, and you make the new convert twice as much a child of hell as yourselves.” (Matthew 23:13-15)

Before Jesus, John the Baptist called out any within the Jewish faith who might have felt that their lineage as “sons and daughters of Abraham” entitled them to a kind 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.” He says to them (you might remember this from a few Sundays ago during Advent):

“Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” (Luke 3:8-9)

John calls them to “bear fruits worthy of repentance,” to live an authentic life of faith that bears visible fruit in their actions. Being a son or daughter of Abraham means nothing, John says, if your life does not bear witness to God’s justice and love.

Reaching back into the Hebrew Bible, the prophet Amos brought this word of God to the people: “Because you trample on the poor and take from them levies of grain… you… afflict the righteous, … take a bribe, and push aside the needy in the gate… 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” (Amos 5:11a, 12b, 21-22a).

Prophets always remind religious people that the correct observance of rituals means nothing if their hearts are not in the right place. You can say all your prayers and go to services every week, but if you do that while people are suffering from injustice and hunger all around you and do nothing to help, you’ve entirely missed the point. And that’s pretty much what the “spiritual but not religious” people are saying as well.

What’s frustrating to me is when people reject religion entirely when they encounter religious hypocrisy and abuses of power, when they see all the things that are wrong with “religious people.” Because what they’re rejecting isn’t actually an authentic representation of religion. It’s a twisted version, filtered through the lens of sinful humanity. The prophets rejected that kind of religion, too, and yet they were all deeply “religious!”

There’s a common misperception among many people, Christian and non-Christian alike, that Jesus’s message carried with it a rejection of “religion.” They see in Jesus’s critiques of Jewish ritual practice and his scathing rebukes of the religious leaders of his day a rejection of religion altogether. I've heard folks say, "Christianity isn't a religion -- it's a relationship." But Jesus didn’t reject religion; Jesus was a devout Jew. He followed all the rituals and traditions of his faith. As we read in last week’s Gospel, “he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom” (Luke 4:16). He knew the scriptures of his tradition well enough to quote them from memory on a regular basis. He observed the Passover. He did all the things that a “good Jewish boy” of his day would have done. He just didn’t let the observance of those rituals blind him to the meaning behind why they were set up in the first place.

Jesus didn’t reject religion, he rejected a certain kind of religiosity, one that puts ritual observance above love of neighbor, one that puts the letter of the law above the spirit of the law. He rejected the kind of religiosity that would allow someone to die on the Sabbath because it is forbidden to do “work” on the Sabbath and healing them would be considered “work.” He rejected the kind of religiosity that makes people think God owes them something, instead of acknowledging that everything is a gift from God, the kind of religiosity that talks about “birthrights” instead of gifts, about righteousness instead of grace. He rejected the same kind of religiosity that “spiritual but not religious” people reject today.

What Jesus and the prophets came to remind us is that that kind of religiosity is not really being “religious,” it’s being self-righteous. It’s not worshipping God, it’s worshipping self. And it’s condemned in all the major world religions.

“This is the fast that I choose,” God says to the people through the prophet Isaiah; this is what he tells them it means to be “religious”:

“to loose the bonds of injustice…

to let the oppressed go free…

to share your bread with the hungry,

and bring the homeless poor into your house” (Isaiah 58:6-7).

I get the critique of the “spiritual but not religious” folks. I do. It’s easy to want to walk away when you encounter hypocrisy and corruption in any institution. But let’s not let that define what it means to be “religious.” Instead of rejecting religion, let’s be the kind of religious Jesus was. The kind of religious that comes to “bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” – that passage from Isaiah that Jesus quoted in the synagogue in his hometown and said he came to fulfill (Isaiah 61:1-2, quoted in Luke 4). Let's be the kind of religious that reminds us that God can and does work through Canaanites and Syrians as well as Israelites. The kind of religious that acknowledges that “we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part” (1 Corinthians 13:9), that only God knows the full truth. The kind of religious that cultivates humility, not pride, and remembers Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians, that “if I do not love, I am nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:2).

Perhaps if we were all that kind of “religious,” people would be drawn to religion instead of repelled by it. Religion could be a part of the solution instead of part of the problem. In our collect for today, we pray for God to “hear the supplications of your people, and in our time grant us your peace” – but we have to play a part in making peace as well. Perhaps God might respond to our prayer with a prayer of his own, that might go something like this:

“O finite and limited human beings, you are indebted to me for all things both in heaven and on earth: Mercifully hear the supplications of my prophets, so that in your time I may use you to bring peace.” Amen.

---

[1] Steven J. Cole, “Why Religious People Reject Christ.” From the series “Luke,” on Bible.org. Published 6 June 2013 https://bible.org/seriespage/lesson-16-why-religious-people-reject-christ-luke-414-30 Accessed Jan 28 2016.

[2] Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel.

[3] As cited by the 2014 Pew Research Forum survey of religion in American life. Article on the results of that story here: "America's Changing Religious Landscape," published May 12, 2015. http://www.pewforum.org/2015/05/12/americas-changing-religious-landscape/ Accessed Jan 28 2016.

Martha's problem was not her actions, but her attitude

Sermon delivered Sunday, July 21, 2013 (9 Pentecost, Year C, Proper 11), at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Franklin, TN (Luke 10:38-42.

In today’s Gospel from Luke, we hear the familiar story of Mary and Martha. This passage is a favorite for use in women’s Sunday School classes or women’s retreats, where women are often asked, “Are you ‘a Martha’ or ‘a Mary’?”– which is just church code language for asking whether you are a “Type A” personality, organized and task-oriented, or a “Type B” personality, more carefree and process-oriented.

In an attempt to soften the edge for poor Martha, who often gets a bad rep as the uptight taskmaster, the leaders or facilitators will sometimes reassure those of us who identify with Martha that being “a Martha” is not a bad thing, that Mary and Martha were both devoted followers of our Lord; they just had different ways of showing their devotion. Martha showed her devotion by taking care of the details and preparing the house, while Mary showed her devotion by sitting with Jesus and listening to his teachings. The assumption is generally that both ways of showing devotion are equally valid, just different – so that those of us who identify with Martha don’t wind up feeling “less than” our friends who are more contemplative like Mary.

But if we look closely at the text, Jesus actually does issue a value judgment about Mary and Martha’s behavior and motivations. Nowhere in the passage does Jesus say that both Mary and Martha’s ways of being are equally valid. Instead, Jesus says that “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:42).

Now, in Martha’s defense, she was probably doing all the appropriate things a woman would be supposed to do in that culture to prepare for a house guest – preparing a meal, washing the guest’s feet, offering the guest a place to stay. There was a lot of work to be done to offer proper hospitality to a guest, and Martha was the kind of woman who was going to make sure everything was taken care of, and done well. This in and of itself is not a bad thing – and Jesus does not chastise her for her attention to detail or her desire to provide appropriate hospitality to a guest. Instead, he critiques her because she is “worried and distracted by many things.” The problem is not with her actions, but with her mindset.

The “better part” that her sister Mary has chosen is to sit at Jesus’s feet and listen to his teachings – which was the position of a disciple. For this moment, at least, Mary has remembered her identity as a beloved child of God and a disciple of Christ. By contrast, Martha has lost sight of her identity – her mind is on tasks to be done rather than on the joy of being in the presence of her Lord.

We really have no way of knowing whether Mary was really a “Type B” kind of person, always laid back and happy to sit in blissful meditation all day long, or whether she could be just as task-oriented and organized as Martha at times. And we don’t know for sure that Martha didn’t know how to stop doing and just be. Maybe she was just as capable of sitting still as Mary was. But the point is that whatever their usual habits or personality types, in this particular moment, Mary is in a better “head space” than her sister Martha. She is able to be truly present with Jesus during his visit, something that Martha cannot do because of her many worries and distractions. Mary has not lost sight of the forest for the trees, so to speak. She has not gotten so caught up in preparing for Jesus’s visit that she forgets to actually enjoy his visit.

How many of us have been there – so caught up in the details of what needs to be done to prepare for a big event that we forget that this event was supposed to be an enjoyable and joyous occasion? I’m sure any one of us could share a few stories about that friend who gets so caught up in the details of entertaining that everyone feels like they’re on pins and needles at her parties because her stress levels are so high – or an uncle who was so obsessed with arranging the details of where everyone was going to stay at the family reunion that he ruined the event for everyone – or the boss who was so worried about taking care of details for the big corporate event that he didn’t seem to enjoy the event at all.

While it is true that each of us have a little of both “Martha” and “Mary” in us, it is also true that their behaviors in this story do represent distinctive personality types. Some of us are more prone than others to “worried and distracted” behavior. Some of us are more likely to let the details kill the spirit of the event, to get so caught up in the moment that we lose sight of the big picture. If you feel a bit uncomfortable by how much you see yourself in Martha’s behavior in this story, then the lesson in this story is particularly important for you. That lesson is this: the details are important, but they are never more important than the spirit of the task. Things are never more important than people. Expectations, customs, and to-do lists are never more important than relationships.

This is not to say that we should throw out all our to-do lists and go meditate under a tree somewhere and stop working or feeding our children. It is important to “do” things sometimes, and we can show our devotion to God through service. The passage immediately preceding the story of Martha and Mary is the story of the Good Samaritan, which we heard last Sunday – and that is certainly a story that shows the importance of serving others, that teaches us that faith must be rooted in action. If the Good Samaritan had not done something, the injured man’s needs would not have been met. But imagine what the story would be like if the Good Samaritan had helped the man, but while doing so he was irritated and worried because taking the time to help this man was really delaying him from his next appointment, and while he was going with him to the inn, he started yelling at the priests and Levites who passed by, “You call yourselves spiritual leaders? And you’re leaving me to do all the work?” That would certainly change our perception and assessment of the “Good Samaritan,” wouldn’t it?

With Martha, the issue was not her actions, but her attitude. Active, loving service is an important part of a vibrant life of faith. But worries, distractions, and resentment are not. This is why it is so important for those us with strong “Martha tendencies” to remind ourselves that it is precisely in those moments when we feel like we don’t have enough time to enjoy life that it is most important to take time to do so: to take off the apron and sit down in living room to enjoy a drink with your guests, to take a break from the project for work and go out for a hike with your friends or family, to let go of structure and constant words in your prayer life and allow yourself to simply be in God’s presence.

The “better part” that Mary chose was to be attentive to the present moment, to sit at the feet of her Lord and remember her identity as a disciple. If you ever find yourself getting so caught up in a task that you forget why you’re doing it in the first place, or begin to become resentful of those who aren’t doing it, you might think of Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus, and take a step back and remember who and whose you are. You, like Mary, are a disciple of the Lord, invited to sit and be still at his feet. You are a child of God, a God who loves you and wants to spend time with you just as you are. A God who comes to visit you, just as he came to visit Mary and Martha, and who desires not a household put in perfect order, but an open heart ready to receive him.