Posts Tagged ‘Martin Luther’

God’s insistent call

January 25, 2014

Epiphany 3

Paul’s Conversion – Galatians 1:11-24

Marian Free

In the name of God whose insistent call draws us out of ourselves and into God’s service. Amen.

Throughout history there have been numerous accounts of people coming to faith, or coming to what they believe is a deeper and truer understanding of their faith. Many such accounts are dramatic and powerful of the sort that turn a person’s life around and lead them to serve God in ways that are risky and demanding, or that have a profound effect on the world around them and on the church in particular.

One such person was Augustine of Hippo whose spiritual quest had so far failed to satisfy him when his heart was touched by God. His own account goes like this: “As I was weeping in the bitter agony of my heart, suddenly I heard a voice from the nearby house chanting and repeating over and over again. “Pick it up and read, pick it up and read.” I began to think intently whether there might be some sort of children’s game in which such a chant is used. But I could not remember having heard of one. I checked the flood of tears and stood up. I interpreted it solely as a divine command to open the book and read the first chapter I might find. So I hurried back to the place where I had put down the book of the apostle when I got up. I seized it, opened it and in silence read the first passage on which my eyes lit. “Not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts.” (Rom 13:13-14) I neither wished nor needed to read further. At once, with the last words of the sentence, it was as if a light relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All shadows of doubt were dispelled” (Chadwick, St Augustines Confessions, 152).

Much later in Germany, Martin Luther, a monk of the Augustinian Order had been going through “hell” obsessed with his own sinfulness and the impossibility of remembering all his sins in order to confess them. He tried all kinds of self-abasement to atone for his perceived sinfulness – sleeping in the snow, lying almost naked in the belfry tower at night – nothing seemed to work.

Part of his struggle was: “ to understand Paul’s expression, ‘the justice of God’ because I took it to mean that God is just and deals justly in punishing the unjust. My situation was that, although an impeccable monk I had no confidence that my merit would assuage God. Therefore I did not love a just and angry God, but rather hated and murmured against him. Night and day I pondered this until I grasped that the justice of God is that the righteousness by which through grace and sheer mercy God justifies us by faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into Paradise. The whole of scripture took on a new meaning and whereas before the phrase ‘the righteousness of God’ had filled me with hate, now it became to me inexpressibly sweet in great love. This passage of Paul became to me a gate to heaven ….” (Bainton, R. Here I Stand – The Classic Biography of Martin Luther. Sutherland, NSW: Albatross Books, 1978, 65.)

An encounter with God not only gives relief from anxiety or opens a gate to heaven, it gives new insights, a different perspective of God and the world. An encounter with God can draw people out of their comfort zone and compel them to respond to a call on their lives that they would not have thought possible and of which they would not have believed themselves capable. The Bible is full of such figures. Abraham and Sarah who responded to a God whom they did not know and set off to a place they had never heard of. Moses who protested that he could not speak, liberated God’s people from slavery and led them to the promised land. Isaiah and Jeremiah who likewise did not believe that they were capable of the task God was asking them to fulfill challenged Kings to change their ways. Jonah who ran away, before he did what God required. Mary and Joseph who said “yes” and enabled Jesus to enter the world. Then there was the rag-tag bunch of unlikely people who left all they had to follow Jesus. People from all walks of life drawn out of their comfort zone to serve a God or a Christ whom they did or did not know who might take them who know where.

Among this great crowd of people we find Paul – that passionate, self-assured servant of God whose life radically changed direction after a “revelation of Jesus Christ”. Unlike Augustine and Luther Paul was not troubled by a search for faith or a fear that he could not please God. By all accounts Paul was a proud and confident Jew, absolutely convinced of his righteousness, his place in the world and before God. He was so sure of himself and his beliefs that he set out to persecute the misguided Jews who believed that Jesus was the Christ. He says of himself: “I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless” (Phil 3:4-6). Nothing, so far as Paul could tell, was lacking in his life or faith – his credentials were impeccable, his behaviour exemplary and his actions a clear demonstration of his commitment to the faith of his fathers.

Then all this changed: “Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ” (Phil 3:7). Those things of which he was so proud now count for nothing, the beliefs that led him to persecute Jesus-followers have been overturned. Now he proclaims the faith that “he once tried to destroy.” What happened? The truth is that we do not really know. Paul provides no more details than those in today’s reading from Galatians. He says only that he received a “revelation of Jesus Christ”, that “God called him through his grace and was pleased  to reveal his Son to him, so that he might proclaim him among the Gentiles,.”

We may not know what form the revelation took but we can see that the results are astounding – the one who persecuted believers is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy. More than that, he is so convinced that there is no other way to understand God’s action in Christ that he will brook no other interpretation or accept any other view. “As we have said before, so now I repeat, if anyone proclaims to you a gospel contrary to what you received, let that one be accursed!” (Gal 1:9). Paul preaches as though his life depends on it, and in fact, he does believe that his eternal salvation is intimately bound to that of the communities who have come to faith through him.

Paul’s encounter with God sharpens and refines the faith that he has held from birth. His new, God-revealed perspective allows him to see that God always intended that Gentiles can be included in the Abrahamic faith, that believers be led by the Spirit (not determined by the law) and that God’s grace is not something to be earned, but something that is freely given. Empowered by his experience of God, driven by the conviction that he was called to share what he hd received and enabled by his passion and his great intellect, Paul became a potent force for change in the world. Some twenty years before the Gospels were written, Paul was making sense of Jesus’ life death and resurrection and finding ways in which emerging communities, made of of people who had come from different faiths and different social groupings could worship together.

Paul’s impact on the church is demonstrated by his place in the New Testament – one-fourth of which consists of letters written by or attributed to Paul. Half of the Book of Acts deals with the life and ministry of Paul which means that he accounts for one-third of the New Testament. Paul’s letters are the earliest written documents of the church and provide us with valuable information about the struggles to build community and to come to some consensus as to what faith in Jesus meant for Jew and Gentile alike.

God has ways of getting ours attention, often when we least expect it.  Whether it is a thunder-clap or a whisper, a blinding light or a moment of insight, a call to change the world or a call to change ourselves, a demand to protest against injustice or an insistence to maintain our integrity, empowerment to do something heroic for others or strength to face a personal battle. God’s insistent call will not be denied. We can run, but we cannot hide. God will find us and take us where we do not want or did to expect to go. But whatever it is, whatever God asks of us, we can be sure that God will equip us, support and sustain us and that God will never abandon us until our task is done.

Keeping up

December 14, 2013

Advent 3 – 2013

Matthew 11:2-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who breaks into our lives and changes them forever.  Amen.

There are some events that irrevocably change the course of history, some ideas that change our lives in a way that is irreversible and some experiences from which it is impossible to recover. When Martin Luther nailed his ninety-nine theses to a church door, he had no idea that the church of which he was a part would never be the same. He had no thought that after his death his followers would break away from Rome and form their own church and no notion that the ensuing Reformation would divide the church in a way which continues to have repercussions today. Much later, Darwin’s Origin of the Species shook the world and the church causing people to revisit the stories of their beginnings and to reconsider the nature of humanity. For many of us, our concept of who we are and where we came from changed forever. There are many such events or discoveries that interrupt the direction in which the world is travelling and sends humanity on a completely different and often unexpected path.

The same is true on an individual level. Our view of the world and of ourselves changes – sometimes radically – as we grow and learn and have both positive and negative experiences. Over time we learn for example, that our parents do not know everything, that clouds are not made of cotton wool, that there is no “man in the moon”. Sadly, there are more sinister ways in which our world is changed. A child who is abused by someone whom they trust loses their innocence, their sense of themselves and their ability to trust – often forever.

In the first century, this who came to faith in Jesus, believed that his life, death and resurrection formed one such seminal event. From their point of view the stream of history had been irreversibly interrupted, the time space continuum disturbed. They believed that God in Jesus had broken into history shattering the connection between past and present.

It is this attitude to the world that explains Jesus’ apparently dismissive words regarding John the Baptist. “The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” How can Jesus say that? It was John who called people to repentance, John who drew “all Jerusalem” to him, John who announced Jesus and John from whom Jesus sought baptism. It seems an extraordinary claim that John rates lower than the least in the kingdom of heaven. How can this be?

For the gospel writers it is clear – history has been divided into two – before Jesus and after Jesus. From their point of view, John does not belong to the new dispensation, he belongs to the time before Jesus, a time that had not been affected by Jesus’ breaking into the world. No matter what John the Baptist had contributed to Jesus’ ministry, he was not a part of this new world order. He had not made the transition from one time period to another. John belonged in the past as the last of the prophets, firmly situated in the Old Testament culture and experience and cannot bridge this dramatic disruption in time.

It is possible that John was relegated to the past simply because he did not live to see what was happening.  He was executed at about the same time that Jesus began his ministry so it was impossible for him to participate in what was happening. However, it is also possible that John was stuck in the past because even while he lived he was unable to see and join in what was going on. John’s announcement of Jesus indicates that he expected something different from what actually happened.  He predicted a fiery Saviour who would come to judge the world. Let me remind you what he said: “His winnowing fork is in his hand and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire”  (Matt 3:12).

As we know, the reality of Jesus was vastly different. John’s question from prison demonstrates that it is not clear to him that Jesus is the “one who is to come”. He remains open to the possibility that they might have to “look for another”.

John was not confident that Jesus was the one sent by God because his vision was clouded by the image that he (and many of his compatriots) had developed of a Saviour or Redeemer.  On the basis of some prophetic ideas he and they, it seems, had built up a picture of someone who would come with power to judge the earth, who would separate the wheat from the chaff, the good from the bad. In the process he and they had failed to take note of other prophetic ideas – those from Isaiah in particular – which spoke of a “suffering Servant” whose programme would be to heal and liberate rather than to condemn. They were unprepared for a Jesus who did not fit the image that they had created.

There is a warning for us here. It is very tempting for us to give in to our need for certainty, to scour our Bibles and to try to draw conclusions about the nature of God and the nature of God’s future. However, God is always doing surprising things, the most surprising of which was Jesus who did not conform to any preconceptions and who suffered a shameful, God-abandoned death. For this reason, we should not try to second-guess God, to read into our scriptures things that may and may not be there or to try to tie God down to something someone wrote two thousand years ago.

If we do this not only will we fail in our attempt to define and categorise God but we are in danger of blinding ourselves to who and what God is and we will  – like John – be unable able to see the new things that God is doing in our time.

A vulnerable child, a crucified Saviour – what will God do next and will our eyes be open and our hearts ready for whatever it is that God will reveal? Advent is a time of anticipation and waiting, of preparing ourselves for God’s coming. Let it be a time in which we let go of all our expectations so that we are ready for God, no matter how God comes.