Our Glorious God -- Soli Deo Gloria

I Corinthians 10:23-33

October 29, 2017/Reformation Sunday

            “Whenever the devil harasses you, seek the company of men or drink more, or joke and talk nonsense, or do some other merry thing. Sometimes we must drink more, sport, recreate ourselves, and even sin a little to spite the devil, so that we leave him no place for troubling our consciences with trifles. We are conquered if we try too conscientiously not to sin at all. So when the devil says to you: do not drink, answer him: I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.”           

            “It is better to think of the church in the ale-house than to think of the ale-house in church.”

           “Whoever drinks beer, he is quick to sleep; whoever sleeps long, does not sin; whoever does not sin, enters Heaven! Thus, let us drink beer!”

            “Thus, let us drink beer!” These quotes are not from who you would expect; royalty such as Henry VIII or from an ancestor of Anheuser Busch. No, these quotes are attributed to Martin Luther. Martin Luther, whose image can be found on the insert in our bulletin today; who’s posting of his 95 theses on the door of the Wittenberg Castle, was the metaphorical opening bell for the Reformation that changed the course of history in Europe and around the world.

            Martin Luther was a theologian, teacher, preacher; he wrote hymns, prayers and committed his entire life to calling the church back to its true vocation of preaching the gospel and being disciples of Jesus the Christ. He also seemed to like beer. Actually, that is no surprise to me. He was German, and I don’t mean this to be a generalized stereotype in anyway, but good beers come out of Germany and Germans are known for liking beer.

            Again, that’s a stereotype. But I come from a long line of Germans. In saying that you would think that I come from a long line of beer drinking Germans, but I don’t. Actually, I do. I don’t but I do. I just didn’t know that I do until my adulthood. My Grampa Busse was a Lutheran pastor, raised in a German household who brewed its own beer. Beer was a common part of their lives apparently. However I grew up knowing only my tee totaling grandfather. I never saw him drink a beer. My parents do not drink beer. There was no beer in our home. I do not know if my grampa railed against drinking in his preaching, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I do know that he did not partake… until he was older. Then he seemed to return to his roots. He would have a beer now and again. That does not sound like a problem or an issue, except as I have heard the story, he was enjoying one at a restaurant and a parishioner saw him. The parishioner was not just upset at witnessing this, the parishioner felt betrayed. This must have seemed the ultimate hypocrisy. Pastor Busse, who did not drink, was drinking a beer.

            “’All things are lawful,’ but not all things are beneficial. ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things build up. Do not seek your own advantage, but that of the other.”

            Paul was not writing about drinking beer in this passage from his first letter to the church in Corinth. He was writing about what people were eating: specifically meat that may or may not have been sacrificed to idols. Jewish dietary laws would have restricted buying meat from the common marketplace because one would not know the origin of this meat. Was it from an idol sacrifice? Was it slaughtered properly according to the Law? For an orthodox Jew, buying and consuming meat from the marketplace would have been too risky. You might break a dietary rule without even realizing it or intending to do so.

            But Paul, who was once a zealot for Judaism, had reversed his thinking completely. “All things are lawful,” he wrote. I understand that to mean that he saw all food as being given by God, and because he was saved through grace in Jesus the Christ, those strict dietary laws to which he had once adhered bound him no longer. So he could eat … and drink … whatever he chose. It was not a sin nor sinful. But Paul did not place a period after the word lawful.

            “All things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial. All things are lawful, but not all things build up.”

            It was absolutely fine for a follower of Christ to eat meat from the marketplace, even if that meat was offered to an idol. It was completely okey dokey and hunky dory for a believer to go to the home of an unbeliever and eat whatever was served. But it was not okay if doing so caused offense to another believer. It was not okay if it harmed the faith of another. I don’t mean to pick on my grandfather. I am certainly a bundle of hypocrisy myself, and I do not have a problem with the fact that he drank a beer. But I wonder if drinking that beer was akin to Paul’s example of eating meat sacrificed to idols. If drinking a beer or eating suspect meat was not beneficial to another, if it did not build up another, then it was not the right thing to do. It was not breaking a law, but it was causing harm to another believer. While what you eat or drink may not bother your conscience, if it bothers the conscience of another, then don’t do it.

            Yet even with this, Paul knew that his liberty to eat what he chose was sure, and what was more important was that whatever he consumed, he did so with thankfulness. But whatever you eat or whatever you drink, Paul told them, do so giving thanks to God. In fact, do everything for the glory of God. All we have, all we eat, all we drink, all we are comes from God, therefore whatever we do, do it for God’s glory.

            To God alone be the glory is the fifth and final sola or emphasis of the reformers. As I understand these emphases, they were a reminder to the reformers and to the church about what was truly important, about what truly mattered, what truly saved: grace alone, faith alone, scripture alone, Christ alone, to God alone be the glory.

            It seems to me that what Paul wanted the Corinthians to understand was that what truly mattered was not what you ate or drank, but that you ate and drank in a spirit of thankfulness. The substance of your meal was not what was important; it was that you ate giving glory to God. In fact, that was what mattered all the time. Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you say, you do it with the full understanding that our glorious God is the foundation of it all, and you give thanks and praise to God alone.

            What truly matters: while I know that the Reformation was not predicated on that one statement, certainly that thought was at its heart. Luther was aghast at some of the practices of the Church: selling indulgences as a means of salvation being a primary one. I would not be a good protestant or a Presbyterian if I did not mention idolatry in the course of this. Idolatry is not just a worshipping of a false god; idolatry distracts us from God. It keeps us apart from God and separate from God. Idolatry makes us forget what truly matters. When Luther nailed his 95 debating points to that door, he wanted to debate and discuss what truly mattered to those seeking to follow Jesus. He wanted the church to get back to what was important, to worshipping not its human made practices and traditions, but instead giving glory to God alone.

            I read an essay by Christian ethicist and theologian, Stanley Hauerwas, which stated that on its 500^th anniversary the Reformation is over. It is done. The reforms which needed to happen in what we now know as the Roman Catholic Church have happened. What are we protesting? What are we reforming? The sharp differences that once marked the chasm between Catholics and Protestants are no longer so sharp. The chasm is being bridged. To some, it is not so much a chasm but a shallow dip in our common ground.

            I guess this means that both Protestants and Catholics alike now fully get what matters, what is important. We aren’t just talking the talk of the five solas, we are walking the walk. Yet I wonder if a new reformation needs to happen; not between Protestants and Catholics, but between Protestants and Protestants; between American Protestants and American Protestants in particular. Regardless of what denomination we claim, our lists of rules and regulations are numerous, and our dogma is strong. Yet, is that dogma a distraction? Have our rules, our differences in worship and sacrament, become idols? Do we need, require a new reformation because we have forgotten what matters, and we are not doing everything to the glory of God alone?

            I do not have a specific answer to these questions, and I am not the first to ask them. But I do believe we need to wrestle with them, pray about them, and pray most fervently for one another – especially those with whom we radically disagree. I wonder if in these strange and trying days, we are being called to reconsider and remember what matters and what is important. Perhaps we have forgotten. Perhaps we have lost our way. But the good news is that our glorious God is the God of unconditional love and another chance. The good news is that we never run out of chances or opportunities to turn around, to change course and recommit ourselves to doing everything for the glory of God alone. Thanks be to our glorious God! Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.

On Faith -- Sola Fide

Philippians 3:4b-12

October 15, 2017

            I read a story accredited to preacher and teacher, Fred Craddock. He told about a family of Christian missionaries living in China on the eve of Communism. They were told by the military that they would have to leave the country, and they could bring no more than 200 pounds worth of their belongings with them. They were given only a few hours to gather their things. The mother and father spent the next hours frantically going through their household trying to determine what they should take and what they shouldn’t. Should they take great-grandmother’s vase? It was a family heirloom. What about this item or that piece of clothing? Finally, they had packed everything they could take. They had weighed everything they packed. They met the 200 pound weight limit on the money. When the military returned to take them out of the country, they asked,

            “Do your belongings weigh no more than 200 pounds?”

            The parents answered with a determined affirmative. Then they were asked,

            “But did you weigh your children?”

            What?! Weigh the children?! The children were considered part of the belongings?! Forget everything else they were going to bring! If they have to include the children in the 200 pound weight limit, then the children must come first and foremost. Nothing else matters. Nothing else is as precious. There are no family heirlooms that are more important, more valuable. If all they could take out of China was their children, then so be it; the rest was just rubbish.

How true or colorfully embellished this story may be, Craddock described the missionaries as having a “wake up moment.” They woke up to what really mattered. They woke up to what was most vital, most important. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. It was their wake up moment.

Paul seems to be describing his wake up moment in these verses from his letter to the church in Philippi. Paul was reminding the folks there of who he used to be, of his pedigree of righteousness if you will.

“If anyone 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. Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish.”

Rubbish is a nice, gentle word. It sounds like something said by the Dowager Countess on Downton Abbey. But rubbish is an extremely cleaned up translation of the Greek. It is a word that is only found in this verse, and essentially means the stuff you don’t want to step in out in the barnyard. It is excrement. Paul was not mincing his words or trying to be delicate. What he had before, everything he was before – not only a good Jew, a righteous Jew, but a Pharisee; everything he held dear before under the Law, all of that he now understood to be RUBBISH!!!

This was Paul’s wake up moment. His righteousness did not come from the Law, but only through faith in Christ. It was not a righteousness that he could manufacture on his own, but one that came from God based on faith.

On faith; sola fide or faith alone is the emphasis of our worship this morning. It reminded the reformers – and us – that our salvation is not something we can earn, but something that is given through love and grace. Because that is the emphasis, I understand why this passage was suggested as the scripture for this particular sola. Paul made it clear to the Philippians that he woke up to the reality that his adherence to the Law could not save him; that nothing he did saved him. It was only faith given to him by God that saved him. And through that faith he grew in his knowledge, in his relationship with Christ Jesus. I don’t think it is far-fetched of me to claim that Paul was smug in his former self and identity. He was smug in his confidence in the flesh. He was smug in his zeal and in the status his birth into the tribe of Benjamin gave him. His confidence in all of those things was high, but when he came to know Jesus, he awoke to what really mattered. He awoke to the truth that salvation was through faith alone; sola fide.

So I get the choice of this passage. It is through faith alone – faith given to us as a gift by our gracious God – that we are saved. Everything else is rubbish. Yet, if I were to choose a passage, I probably would have looked to Hebrews.

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

I would have looked more for a definition of faith, for examples of faith. It’s not that this passage from Philippians doesn’t make its point about sola fide, it’s that if I am preaching this sermon to me, I need encouragement for a faith that often falters. I need reminders of those who have gone before, on those who stepped out in faith, trusting that God would be there with them. I need examples of those who have taken it on faith that God keeps God’s promises. I crave stories of people who through faith have done wondrous things, who have refused to give up or give in. I need stories and examples and reminders that utilize all the prepositions that go with faith: on faith, in faith, through faith, because of faith, etc. To be honest, I’m not so interested in discussions of justification by faith alone, as I am in finding reasons to keep on going, to stay faithful.

This isn’t because of any particular personal crisis of faith that I am having. It’s just that everyday there seems to be another reason to lose hope. The world and its sorrows batter our faith. There is suffering that cannot be explained away by saying “there is a reason for everything” or that “God has a plan.” What reason?! What plan?!

The suffering of the world is overwhelming to say the least; and for me – and I know for you – part of being faithful is feeling the call to address that suffering, to help alleviate it, to reach out to those who are hurting and alone and afraid, and embody the love of Christ to them.

Yet it is so hard, so difficult. I find that my prayer most days is “I believe, help my unbelief.” As many times as my faith seems strong enough to move mountains, there are equally as many times as it seems to teeter on the edge of disappearing altogether. So, as much as I affirm sola fide, I also want, need, long for, crave examples of faith embodied, faith in action.

I received a strange, unexpected example of this from a completely unlikely source: a sitcom called “Mom.” For those of you who have not seen it, it is a funny, real, sometimes risqué, show about a mother and daughter who are both recovering alcoholics. Much of the show centers on going to AA meetings and dealing with life sober, of dysfunctional families, and the patterns – good and bad – that are repeated and passed down from one generation to the next. But it also talks about forgiveness and letting go of what you cannot control and prayer. In one episode, the older mom, played by Allison Janney, has a relapse. She hurt her back, had to go on painkillers, and they became too much for her. She not only abused them, she started drinking again. Confronted by her daughter and her friends, she has to get sober all over again. Her friends stay with her as she detoxes. But detoxing is rubbish. In one scene, she is imagining or hallucinating that the two sides of herself are talking to her. The devilish, bad girl side is trying to convince her to drink again. She’ll be fine. She can handle it this time. No problem. The good girl side, who looks more like Glynda the Good Witch than an angel, argues for her to stay sober. It was this side of her that worked to repair her relationship with her daughter and her family, etc. Bonnie, the character Janney plays, is arguing aloud with both of them, and finally she cries out,

“Somebody please just help me. God, please just help me.”

And God does. Jesus, or a man who looks remarkably like what Hollywood and American Christianity thinks Jesus looks like with long hair, a beard and a robe, shows up. He sends the two warring sides of her away, and just sits with her. No words are spoken. No judgments are made. He is just there with here, meeting her where she is, staying with her through the worst of the night.

I know, it is a silly example. But in the midst of this show where you would not expect to see Jesus show up, Jesus does. I admit that when I watched that episode, my eyes started to water. That moment did not restore my faith in humanity; there are far better examples of people caring for other people that would do that. But it reminded me that faith is not about believing that God waves a wand and makes everything perfect. Faith is about believing and trusting that God shows up.

Through faith, we can do more than we ever thought we could. In faith, we step out into the world every day, trying to live as God calls us to live, and we take it on faith that God shows up. God shows up for us and calls us to show up for others. This isn’t something we can prove or chart or systematically analyze. It takes faith alone to live in the trust and hope that God shows up.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.

The Word of God -- Sola Scriptura -- Scripture Alone

II Timothy 1:1-7, 3:14-4:5

October 8, 2017

            “Take out your Bibles.”

When my parents were kids, one of the things they did in Sunday school and in church was Bible Drills. I cannot tell you if “take out your Bibles” were the exact words used to get them started, but if not, something similar was most likely said. In these Bible drills, the kids, including my parents, would be quizzed on Bible trivia.

            For example: how many books are there in the Old Testament? How many are there in the New? They would also be given a book, a chapter and a verse, and have to find it as quickly as possible. So I imagine they would hear the words, “take out your Bibles.”

            I remember having some emphasis put on learning Bible verses when I was a kid, but I don’t remember Bible drills like the ones my parents had. The focus in my Sunday school classes and in Vacation Bible School was on stories. But I took a Bible survey class in seminary, in which the purpose was reading and studying the entire Bible in a semester. Our first quiz was to write out the books of the Bible in order and spell them correctly. That quiz was weighted in our favor to help us when we bombed some of the other quizzes which were extraordinarily hard. I admit that there were a few quizzes that I bombed. And just a year or two ago, Ben Williams at Wesley United Methodist Church gave me a mnemonic device for remembering the order of Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians and Colossians: Giants Eat Peas and Carrots. I always struggled to keep those four books in the correct order, but now I struggle no longer, because along with the blood of Englishmen, giants eat peas and carrots.

            There is debate over the value of teaching the Bible in these ways. I understand why my professor wanted us to know the books of the Bible in order. It was more than just giving us a head start on our grade; knowing the books in order helped us find our way through it easier. If you thought Thessalonians was in the Old Testament or that Nehemiah was in the New, you were going to have a hard time keeping up.  And I think there is a spiritual discipline to learning scripture verses. I have had confirmation classes do that. Each week, I would challenge my confirmation kids to memorize verses as a way to keep them reading the Bible. If you are memorizing verses, you are opening up the Bible and reading it.

            But memorization does not necessarily lead to critical thinking; nor does understanding the outline of scripture lead to digging into the depth and breadth of meaning that is found in our sacred book. What does it mean to say that our Bible is a sacred book in the first place? What did Paul mean when he wrote to Timothy that “all scripture is inspired by God?” What do we imply when we refer to the Bible as the Word of God?

           There are more answers to my questions than I have time for in this sermon or in a thousand sermons, for that matter. However, questions about what it means for scripture to be divinely inspired are as relevant today as they were when Timothy was beginning his ministry.

            For the reformers, putting an emphasis on scripture alone – sola scriptura – was a response to the church’s teaching of the tradition of the church over and above the teachings of scripture. One of the great gifts that Martin Luther gave to the common person of his day was the translation of the Holy Bible into the German language. Suddenly it went from being in Latin – a language only the most learned, upper class, and often priestly people could read, to something that folks with a basic education could read. It put God in the hands of the people. I call this a gift. Some might call it a curse. But for the reformers, like Luther, like Calvin and Zwingli, etc., scripture was our primary source for learning about God. The traditions of the church may help us in many ways – but they did not outweigh scripture. They were not more authoritative than scripture. Scripture was the inspired Word of God; therefore it was scripture alone, not the traditions of the church that provided the foundations of belief.

            But what does Scripture tell us? Paul told Timothy that,

            “scripture is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.”

            I agree with all of the above, but I know that I differ greatly from many of my colleagues on what I think scripture is teaching us, and in what comes into my mind and heart when I say that scripture is the inspired Word of God. I do not take the Bible literally. If I did, I could not stand in front of you this morning. I do not think the Bible is inerrant. I think that it was written by human beings, who were trying to discern, just as we are, what God was and is doing in the world – through them and through other people. And I do not discount that other religions have scriptures and writings that are equally as sacred to them as ours is to us. I recognize that for the controversial statement that it is; and I know that it is unfair of me to say something like that in the pulpit, because you have no chance at this moment to respond. Feel free to see me after worship.

            I also do not believe that the Bible is a historical text. If it were, we could not preach on it and study it and gain new understandings from it week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, century after century. No one, even one who takes the Bible completely and utterly literally, presents the Word of God without interpretation. It is not historical, it is a living thing. I know that sounds strange, but bear with me. The Word of God is alive – not in an inanimate object, but in our reading of it, our understanding of it, our living of it. This book is not so much the history of God, as it is the story of God and a particular branch of God’s family. But that branch is part of a much larger tree. That branch includes us. We are still living the story. It seems to me that in some ways, we are the Word of God. And if there is some truth to that, then that is an awesome, and perhaps awful, responsibility.

            It is a responsibility, because just as living faithfully requires mindfulness and intention, so does living with the recognition that we represent the Word of God to others. We embody the Word of God in what we say and what we do. I can tell you right now that most days I am a poor embodiment of God’s Word indeed.

            When I say that we are the embodiment of God’s Word, that doesn’t mean that we show the world how good we are at following all the rules – the Ten Commandments and any others we may find in scripture. Rules are important, but just following the fules for the rules’ sake is not so much about righteousness as it is self-righteousness. No, I think being the living Word of God means that we show the rest of the world that we are broken people, but that we know it and we repent when we fail and sin, and we show grace and love and mercy to others when they do the same. I think it means that we try to live out Matthew 25: feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, visiting the prisoner. I believe that being God’s Word in the world is more about walking the walk of faith, or perhaps it’s really limping the limp of faith, than it is talking the talk of faith. That does not mean that we are not called to share the Good News. We are. But if we have received the Good News, if we have felt its power and been overwhelmed by its grace, then just talking about it is not enough. We have to show it and share it and live it and do it and be it.

            Paul began this letter by telling Timothy to rekindle the gift of God that is within him through the laying on his hands, and through remembering the faith that he inherited from his mother and from his grandmother, Eunice and Lois. May this be a moment for our faith to be rekindled, to be stirred up. Think about the shoulders you stand on, the people who have gone before you, who taught you what it meant to be faithful, who taught you how to live in love and grace. One person whose shoulders I stand on is my Gramma Trudy. Who are you thinking about? Whose shoulders do you stand on?

Think about the people who were the living Word of God to you, then go and do likewise. And take out your Bibles again and again, not only to memorize, but to study and to learn and to be reinspired, so that you may go and do and live and be … the Word of the Lord.

            Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.

The Gift of God -- Sola Gratia -- Grace Alone

Ephesians 2:1-10

October 1, 2017/World Communion Sunday

             I thought I remembered the majority of commercials and ads that Garrison Keillor created on his brilliant radio show, “A Prairie Home Companion”. But I read about one just recently that I either never knew or had completely forgotten. It was for “Mourning Oatmeal.” Mourning as in grieving, not morning as in “morning, y’all!” The tagline to this was “Mourning Oatmeal: it’s like Calvinism in a box.” I guess the reasoning for this kind of ad and this kind of product is that if you were growing up in the harsh winters of the upper Midwest, you would want oatmeal that reminds you of Calvin’s belief that humanity was completely fallen and totally depraved. Why start the day happy and carefree when you’re about to face a world full of cold and snow? So forget that gentle Quaker. Go for Mourning Oatmeal, because it’s like Calvinism in a box.

            Actually, I read about this ad in relation to this passage from Ephesians. It was part of a commentary and the writer compared the first verses of this chapter to Keillor’s oatmeal.

            “You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else.”

            You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived. You were dead following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, and you know who that ruler is? Satan. And it is his rule that is at work among every person who is disobedient. Every single one of us lived that way, we lived according to our flesh; we followed the desires of our flesh and our senses. We were, at the very core of our being, by our very nature, children of wrath, of anger, of sin, of death.

            Here’s your oatmeal.

            But if these opening verses were the essence of Calvin’s theory of total depravity, then the next verses are explications of God’s grace.

            “But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ – by grace you have been saved – and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God – not the result of works, so that no one may boast.”

            But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us…. Those words are the preface to every good thing. Our merciful God, because of his love for us, made us alive in his Son, our Christ. God, who is rich in mercy, abundant in mercy, has saved us not because of what we have done, but because of grace! Out of love for us, because of God’s rich mercy, God has saved us by grace, through grace, because of grace. God has shown us kindness through God’s grace. We have done nothing to deserve it, nothing to earn it. It is not because of any of our works, but because it is God’s gift to us. Our God, who is rich in mercy, has given us this great gift, this tremendous gift, this gift that cannot be adequately described in words, God has given us grace.

            And God has not just given us grace; God has saved us through grace. Remember those first verses? We were not just on life support or living half lives. We were dead. We were completely fallen. We were captives to the wages of sin and to the ruler of the air. We had no true life in us. If we got what we deserved, we would have stayed dead. But that is the funny thing about grace. It isn’t what we deserve. That’s why it’s grace. And I think that’s why we struggle with it. We welcome it when it is given to us, but if we’re honest, it’s harder to swallow when it’s offered to others. And what about what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called, “cheap grace?” Is grace just a cure all for whatever we feel like doing?

            Author Michael Horton wrote that he was confronted by Jimmy Swaggart over scripture’s radical gospel of grace. Swaggart told Horton that if he kept trusting in God’s justifying grace that he would just end up living in sin before too long, and then he would lose his salvation and go to hell. Horton wrote that Paul anticipated the religious community of his own time misunderstanding grace in that way as well. If you trust in grace, than you’ll just go out and “live like the dickens.”

            Horton also used an example of Martin Luther. Someone challenged Luther when Luther rediscovered this biblical understanding of justifying grace,

            “If this is true, a person could simply live as he pleased!”

            “Indeed!” Luther answered, “Now what pleases you?”

            As Horton explained, and as other scholars have clarified, grace is not just a cheap cover from God for endless sin. When we receive God’s grace, what pleases us, really pleases us, is living a life that pleases God. That doesn’t mean that we still don’t mess up. But grace opens us – our hearts, our minds, our eyes – to seeing God’s children and God’s world a little more like God sees them. As we receive grace, maybe what pleases us is to be more gracious.

            This is both World Communion Sunday and the first Sunday of October, 2017, the beginning of the 500^th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation in Europe. As you have already read in other places, we are dedicating each Sunday this month to one of the Five Solas of the Reformation. The Five Solas are the five emphases that the reformers lifted up: Grace Alone, Scripture Alone, Faith Alone, Christ Alone, and To God Alone be the Glory. On this day when Christians around the world gather at table to share the bread and the cup, I can talk and talk about grace or I can tell you a story about what I think grace looks like.

            Reporter Steve Hartman does a series for CBS news called On the Road. It is a series of human interest stories that generally make you feel a little bit better about your fellow humans. One of these stories was about a young high school student named Mitchell in El Paso, Texas.

            Mitchell has a developmental disability, but he LOVES basketball! He has always loved basketball, so although he couldn’t really play for his high school team, he was the manager. His coach and the other teammates clearly cherished him, and on the final game of the season, his coach told him to suit up. Mitchell would have been thrilled just being in uniform, but the coach had a surprise for him. Regardless of the score, his coach was going to let him play in the last minute of the game. Mitchell went in and his teammates did everything to help him get a basket, but nothing was working. He would miss the basket or the ball would go out of bounds. The ball went to a player on the other team. And in the last seconds of the game, when the other player was supposed to throw the ball to his teammates, he called Mitchell’s name, threw him the ball and Mitchell shot and scored. The other player, Jonathan, told Hartman that he was raised to treat others as he would want to be treated. So he wanted Mitchell to have a final shot. It was not a game winning shot. Steve Hartman referred to it as a moment of such sportsmanship that left both teams winners. True. But it seems to me, it was also a moment of grace, a moment not just of pleasing humans, but of pleasing God. It was a moment when the people we were created to be shone through.

            Grace alone covers us, lifts us out of death and darkness. It is God’s gift to us out of God’s rich mercy and abundant love. May we live our lives, today and always, in gratitude for that grace, changed by that grace, and showing that grace to others. Now, what pleases us?

            Let all of God’s grace covered children say “Alleluia!” Amen.