The Gospel: Mathew 6
Please
pray with me: God above us, God among us;
God before us, God within us:
High
King of Heaven, bless our time together.
Amen
This
morning I’ll talk about Christian freedom, the Good News, and academic freedom.
Notice the verses surrounding the Lord’s
Prayer. In this early part of Mathew
Jesus places Himself at the center of the Kingdom of Heaven. This Kingdom is so different from the
kingdoms Jesus’ audience would have recognized, or us. This Kingdom’s power and strength doesn’t
rest in wealth, military might, expert training or elaborate ceremony and
ritual. It rests in the meek, the poor
in spirit, those who love their enemies and turn the other cheek to their
violence. Those people, the salt and
light of the Kingdom, are hardly qualified to be kings, queens, presidents,
senators, or governors. Jesus was no
less controversial when He turned to religion.
He utterly dismissed public practices we would call religious or
pious. Don’t let anyone know about your
compassionate actions to others. Don’t
let anyone see you praying. Don’t pray
mini-sermons, but keep it simple and short.
If you are fasting or by implication doing any religious activity don’t
let anyone know about it; hide your piety from others. I’ll put it this way: don’t use your public
life as a “witness” to others. Keep your
holiness on the DL. Piety and
righteousness are always vulnerable to desiring approval from others.
Religious and moral life is typically a
system, a program, with rules and procedures.
In our world we often turn them into ways of solving problems, a kind of
medicine for the soul and heart and mind.
The Good News is different.
Pig story.
However remarkable, it is still a pig. Now, think of the Good News of God in Jesus
Christ. No matter how glorious and
sublime, no matter how remarkable, isn’t it just like any other religion’s
program of moral, purity and ritual demands?
No. God’s Good News is remarkable. Jesus has
freed us: free from the demands of moral and religious perfection, as if God’s
wish for us is to live lives of religious and moral zeal, purity, obeying rules
and carefully scrutinized by ourselves and others. In Christ’s love and grace, live in freedom. This freedom is shocking. Look at Paul’s response in Galatians 5: “For freedom Christ has set us free; stand
firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” Hear his summary of this part of the
letter: “For you were called to freedom
. . . . Only do not use your freedom as
an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one
word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as
yourself.’ . . . . (5:1, 13, 14)
But even Paul couldn’t imagine this one,
simple law alone, and proceeds to explain how loving your neighbor means
avoiding sexual immorality, strife, drunkenness, envy, sorcery and more. I think he adds this long list—all of it wise
moral advice, surely; especially
avoiding sorcery—because simply saying “God wants you to love one another. That
is a righteous life”, well that sounds too easy. What is particularly religious or pious about
loving others, and being free to do whatever else you want? Paul, like many of us, struggled to make
sense of Jesus’ strange commands, His shocking picture of the Kingdom of
Heaven, even to the point of misunderstanding Him. And for much of my life I
did misunderstand.
It’s easy to misunderstand. It is a foolish story, even scandalous,
offensive. People like me get saved by
God’s gift, despite my being unworthy. Why
aren’t we embarrassed or offended to find ourselves followers of Jesus and
believers in this story? Yet God is
willing to risk misunderstanding such freedom, and grace, in order to tell us
in ways we understand. We’re naturally moral, religious creatures; humans
always have been as far as we can tell. God
talks to us in whatever way is necessary for us to hear Him, pay attention, and
turn our live to His life giving love. We’re
likely to turn the Good News into more religious work, another moralistic job,
turn Jesus into some kind of religious program director for the big summer
camp-slash- quit-smoking clinic we sometimes make of the Christian church. We misunderstand Him and His word all the
time. Hebrew Scriptures as some kind of
timeless moral and political guidebook? Why
not? Genesis 1 and 2 as a literal eye
witness account of the origins of creation?
Sermon on the Mount as a kind of constitution for social and political
life? Sure. Marriage only between a man and woman? Often, we emphasize all that. But why?
I think we do it because we have basic religious and moral beliefs, and
when we hear such crazy News from another land in the mouth of Jesus, News that
seems Good but is also strange and even upsetting, we can’t help but revise it to
more closely fit what we already believe.
Here is where the Good News is suited to the
kind of lives we should live as members of a liberal arts college. This building, Christ Chapel, is the living
heart of this campus. It symbolizes two
deep convictions we try to obey. We
honor Christ, the living representative of God, God in flesh alive for us and
creation. We also honor the rigorous
disciplined work of scholarship in every field from accounting to music to
philosophy to science. God made the
world, declared it good, and we honor Him by studying it. You’ve probably heard talk about “integration
of faith and learning”. We claim that we
can and must negotiate the tensions, disagreements and common ground between
them and the claims of God in Christ.
Northwestern is not a church per se; it is not a liberal arts college
alone. We who work here have signed on
to honor both to the best of our ability.
That is really hard, challenging and at times frustrating. If you have not felt that challenge,
difficulty or frustration here, we or you or both are not working hard enough. As Tom Hanks said about baseball in A League of Their Own, “the hard is what
makes it great.” God in Christ has freed
us to do this strange, hard work. Wacky,
huh?
We aren’t a church; our task here is to honor the pursuit of
knowledge and training despite fear for our spiritual and moral lives. How? Because we trust God’s power and love to
protect and care for us, to conform us to Christ through our skills and
knowledge, in the long run of His Kingdom.
We might have to change our minds or become very uncomfortable with a
new truth, maybe argue with someone over a tough problem. We study Scripture, we pray and worship, we
build one another up as the Body of Christ, we serve others; but as
a liberal arts college, those
goals must accompany all this serious intellectual life of the mind.
For myself, I’ve changed my mind on a number
of serious questions. None of these
changes were arbitrary or casual. The
evidence and argument forced me to change my mind. Might I wrong about any or all of them?
Sure. But I’ve worked pretty hard to
answer the questions and at 55, after 25 years of thinking, reading and arguing
about some of this, with 20 years teaching here, I think I’m right. But it was really difficult. It cost me some
sleepless nights; it strained my
relationships with friends. I see the
consequences from student opinion in my course evaluations. But that is the job we’ve been given
here. I don’t like disagreement; I don’t
want to make anyone uncomfortable. I
don’t even like being up here now. But
this is my job; its my calling. And many
of my colleagues feel the same way about their work.
We have a duty to pursue truth, to discuss
problems openly, even if we risk offending someone. We might offend our administrators, we might
challenge our board of trustees, members of our denomination. Academic freedom does have its limits. The
Faculty Handbook for example states that it ends where it intrudes on the
freedom of our students, meaning I can’t use the classroom to try to create
disciples for my ideological convictions.
But academic freedom includes the public and frank discussion of any
subject legitimately part of the classroom and its disciplinary field, part of
the way members of that field take up the subject, and which treats different
viewpoints with respect.
It is a freedom of questioning, not only
asking “What?” and “Why?” but questioning in the sense of skepticism: “Why is that true?” This kind of freedom is often confusing,
unpopular or frightening. Our peculiar
problem is that we have two basic sources of authority we have to hold onto
simultaneously: the authority of our academic disciplines, and the authority of
the Christian faith based on the Scripture as we understand it broadly in the
Reformed tradition. I think there is a
great threat here at NWC to the peculiar freedom we enjoy and defend.
As some of you know we are often challenged by
members of our own community, board members, students, even on occasion
faculty, dismayed over what is portrayed in our art gallery, on our stages, in
our campus newspaper, and even in our classrooms. Often these worries are about sexuality;
sometimes about science; sometimes about art.
As I stated earlier I understand the Good News to be so strange, so
unusual, that it calls into question all the moral and religious convictions we
carry around with us so naturally that we can’t even distinguish our beliefs
from our call to be followers of Jesus.
Remember the context for the Lord’s
Prayer? Jesus criticized His own Jewish
religious tradition, the moral and religious expectations of His family, His
teachers, His audience, even His own disciples.
That is what it means to be really free; that is the strange, shocking
freedom Jesus returned to over and over again when He taught that His Kingdom
was the kind of place where God saves everyone, even the worst sinners, gives
them cuts in line into the Kingdom in front of the most righteous. That is the shocking freedom St. Paul
mentioned in his letter to the Galatian church where even their enemies spied
on them to try to figure it out (2:4);
where Paul near death told the Philippian Christians that he counted all
his life, including his work as a Christian missionary, as nothing compared to
knowing Christ in His death; and where
the epistle to the Colossians tells us that God takes all our moral and
religious convictions, which we inevitably fail to maintain, and nails them to the
Cross of Christ. That is how shocking
the Good News is. Yet Christians of all
kinds have repackaged this that so it becomes a new set of moral and religious
rules. You are told you are free, that
God’s grace is free, to get you in the door. But if you want to stay inside,
stay in the Kingdom, you have to obey a new set of rules.
That is not the Good News. God became human to reveal Himself and His
love to humanity, and doing so He reconciled humanity to Him. Jesus’ obedience to the Father forced the
very moral, religious and political authorities to kill Him. But God restored Jesus to life and confirmed
Who He Was and Is and Shall Be. Now that
you know the truth, live in obedience to that act of love. That is what a worthy
life looks like.
For liberal arts students like us, the Good
News suggests a worthy life. We are free
to ask everything, read everything, look at everything, talk openly about
everything, encouraged the entire time to love one another as we do that work. Those questions, books, art, discussions will
not always be beautiful, hopeful, encouraging, kind, or loving. They might even be offensive. But that is the risk we take to learn the
truth.
What then does love look like here? It looks like loving truth enough to ask the
hardest questions, and challenge even our friends. They don’t get away with shoddy work; how
would that help? Academic freedom isn’t exactly
like freedom of speech; it is limited to
real academic work. If a claim lacks
scholarly credentials, if it isn’t a real part of an academic field, it doesn’t
belong in our classrooms or any other formal setting. Love has to shape our response to any claim
made here, and love at NWC means being skeptical because the truth matters
enough to risk that what is obvious or what everyone agrees upon, isn’t
necessarily true. Love means always
trying to keep the person making the argument as beloved of God right in the front of you. Love means protecting the person who makes
the minority argument, the unpopular argument—as long as it is an argument and
not just flaming or trolling—even if the
college authorities go after them. Our academic freedom as a Christian college,
which in this place is love in action, is only as strong as our loving ability
to defend the person making the most offensive scholarly argument we can
imagine. I’ll say it again: Our
academic freedom as a Christian college, which in this place is love in action,
is only as strong as our loving ability to defend the person making the most
offensive scholarly argument we can imagine. Think of the Christian story for a
moment: really ancient documents testify
to a God who made the universe, revealed Himself to and through an
insignificant Near Eastern people, became one of them in the flesh, was killed
and resurrected, and now waits for the day to return and restore us and the
world? Paul said it was offensive, even
scandalous. If you don’t believe me,
read 1 Corinthians and the Gospels, and think about it awhile. If that story doesn’t confuse or offend you,
have haven’t been paying attention. As
the German pastor and activist Dietrich Bonhoeffer said in a Christmas sermon,
“the Throne of God in the world is not as human thrones, but is in the depths
of the human soul, in the manger.” (Dietrich
Bonhoeffer’s Christmas Sermons, 102).
Compared to such a strange and offensive story, what could we possibly
talk about that is more difficult?
We can take this risk because of the hope
within us rooted in the living Christ.
We hope this story of Jesus as God in the flesh, living a life like us
and murdered for His obedience to the Father, but brought back to life to give
us His life, is true. Such hope
makes love for one another possible, trust in God’s love and power to make it
all work in the end, trust in the truth no matter how shocking or dismaying it
is.
I encourage you to fight for the truth. Argue for it.
Even run the risk of offending someone doing so. To speak against falsehoods and fake
science; against voodoo
scholarship; against prejudice disguised
as truth. I encourage you to love one
another as you do so; to figure out how to love one another AND love the truth. Doing both, defend one another’s freedom to
ask, say, write, preach, publish what they can defend with reason and evidence. We are free because we are Christ’s slaves bought
with a price, and commanded in gratitude to love one another.
I close here:
do all this with hope. Be hopeful
that Christ joins us to Himself in this good academic work, be hopeful that He
will fill us with life from His Holy Spirit, be hopeful that following Him we
can be His slaves of love for the reconciliation and healing of others. Finally, be filled with hope that He will
complete this work and complete His re-creation of the cosmos in Christ to
the ending of the age. Go in hope;
go in trust; and go in freedom.
Amen; go in peace.