Matt Rawle – Salvaged Faith

Sing! Play! Summer! – Hymn of Promise / In the Garden

Posted on August 11, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 46:8-13

I’m just going to say it out loud…
these have been some difficult weeks we have shared together:
The loss and grief we have experienced…
The pain in the world in the wake of mass shootings and the crisis of migration and climate…
The sense of helplessness about being able to do anything to make it better…

When I find myself feeling discouraged, vulnerable, and down about the world, it is usually the church that helps me to feel better.
The people… the songs… the prayer… the time spent in the presence of God.
But as United Methodists these days, there is also a sense that the church itself is stuck. Broken. Falling apart. We are so busy arguing about who is right and what should be done that we are completely out of tune with the real, deep needs of the world.

But then I sat down and began to study a number of chapters from our lesson for this morning.
God called this prophet to speak a word of comfort and release to a community in exile:
“Speak compassionately to Jerusalem and proclaim that her compulsory service has ended.” (40:2)
“I am the Lord your God, who grasps your strong hand, who says to you, Don’t fear; I will help you.” (41:13)
“I, the Lord, will respond to them; I, the God of Israel, won’t abandon them.” (41:17)
“I announced, I saved, I proclaimed, not some stranger among you. You are my witnesses, says the Lord, and I am God.” (43:12)
“Look! I’m doing a new thing; now it springs up; don’t you recognize it? I’m making a way in the desert, paths in the wilderness.” (43:19)
“Listen to me, house of Jacob… who have been borne by me since pregnancy, whom I carried from the womb until you grow old. I am the one, and until you turn gray I will support you.” (46:3-4)

“Remember this and take courage; take it to heart, you rebels… I am God! There’s none like me who tells the end at the beginning… saying ‘My plan will stand; all that I decide I will do.’” (46:8-10)

God, through Isaiah, is not speaking to a bunch of people who have it all together.
This is not a message for the perfect or the righteous.
This good news isn’t offered to people who have never known pain or hardship or frustration or grief.
No… they are wallowing in it.
Their country has been destroyed. Their loved ones killed. Their very way of life has crumbled.
They are struggling to make sense of what it means to go on, to take the next step, to move forward when everything familiar has been taken away.

And the words they hear from their God… The words WE need to hear from God…
“this, too, shall pass.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Remember.”
“Look around for the gifts in the grief.”
“I’ve got you.”
“In the beginning is the end, in the end is the beginning.”

Do any of those words offer answers? No.
Do they make it better right now? No.
But they do remind us that we are not alone.
They remind us that human life and institutions are fragile… just like the grass that dries up and the flower that withers (Isaiah 40:8)… but that we have been and are and will be held by and sustained by a word and a promise and a plan and a power that has always been and always will be.
These words of comfort offer strength when we might collapse in despair.
They invite us to be present. To pay attention. To embrace the unknown.
To trust that this moment is not all of the story or the end of the story.

This summer, we have been exploring the favorite songs of Immanuel and today we have grouped together two hymns that sing aloud those truths: “Hymn of Promise” and “In the Garden.”

When Natalie Sleeth wrote, “Hymn of Promise,” she was inspired by a line from T.S. Eliot that “in our end is our beginning” and the way the world itself reawakens with every spring. What is the nature of life and death when we hold in our hearts the promise of resurrection?
This hymn is yet another of these great songs we have been sharing that was written by a United Methodist. Her husband was a UM pastor and taught homiletics at Perkins while she shared her love of music in a local church and began writing anthems and hymns. She is the composer who brings us “Joy in the Morning” and reminds us that songs rise from silence, darkness becomes light, and death gives way to the victory of life.
But what I appreciate the most about Sleeth’s work is that it doesn’t paper over our grief or our discomfort or pain with flowery words.
It dives right into them.
She acknowledges them.
And she creates room for us to embrace that even in that brokenness and apparent death the mystery of wholeness and life and peace that is on the horizon.

We need to hang on to that mystery of the unknown.
I’m reminded of the words of Matt Rawle, whose book, “What Makes a Hero?” we studied over Lent a couple of years back.
He talked about the reason why it was so difficult for people to embrace Jesus as their Savior because we want a magic wand. We want a superhero savior who “will just swoop in and fix [ our problems].” (p. 125)
But if that savior is headed towards the reality of death – there is no saving there for us.
The crowds of people drastically misunderstood how Jesus saves us.
The kingdom Jesus ushers in doesn’t start in some heaven far away, but right here and right now.
Like a mustard seed planted in a garden or yeast hidden in flour, the kingdom breaks forth out of what we thought was dead, buried, hidden away.
The kingdom is the power of new life rising out of death.
The kingdom says that in every end there is a new beginning.
Our God can take any and every broken and painful moment we experience and redeem them.
They don’t go away.
But they are transformed.

Even the death of Jesus unexpectedly brings something new out of what we thought was over and done with.
Not immediately… but with time and work and patience and not a little bit of grace and power and glory.
The mustard seed becomes a great tree.
The yeast causes the bread to rise.
In the bulb there is a flower.
The stone that sealed the tomb is rolled away.

Which takes us to that other beloved hymn of Immanuel – “In the Garden.”
I say it is beloved, but the truth is, there are probably just as many people who despise “In the Garden” as cherish it.
I remember working to plan Dorie Campbell’s funeral and as we were deciding on what songs to sing, we picked “In the Garden,” fully knowing that she would have been upset with us for doing so because she thought it was grammatically inaccurate. Others find it to be too overly personal and ever erotic.
C. Austin Miles wrote this hymn after a mediation upon the resurrection story in the gospel of John. The language he uses is personal and intimate and it draws upon a tradition of devotional poetry where one imagines themselves in the story itself, part of the scene, walking and talking with Jesus.
We are invited to step into the shoes of Mary… to enter that garden filled with grief and love… and to encounter the resurrected Christ and the joy of new life.
But we also can’t stay there.
You see, in the third verse of that hymn, we find ourselves with a dilemma.
Sometimes we want to stay at the tomb with the stone rolled away.
That one perfect moment of hope when everything had fallen apart.
It’s better. We tell ourselves.
I’m going to stay right here forever.

But we can’t stay at the empty tomb.
We need to listen to the voice of Christ calling us to go.
Go out into the world.
Go and tell others what we have experienced.
Go and share the good news.
Go and offer signs of life and hope.

Like the prophet Isaiah, in the midst of the grief and pain of the world, we can’t keep the hope and promise to ourselves. It is our duty to head back out there and offer it to everyone we meet.
“this, too, shall pass.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Remember.”
“Look around for the gifts in the grief.”
“I’ve got you.”
“In the beginning is the end, in the end is the beginning.”

The Beginning in the End

Posted on March 25, 2018Leave a comment

We spend so much of our lives looking for a savior.
In the book of Judges, chapter 3 – the Israelites cry out for a savior when the going gets tough… and God responds by lifting up individuals who would save the people… Othniel and Ehud and Deborah.
Over and over, the Psalmists cry out for a savior: “Save us!” Oh God… “Hosanna!”
“Save us by your power and answer us so that the people you love might be rescued.” (Psalm 60:5)
A savior will resolve our problems.
A savior will end our struggles and oppression.
A savior will rescue us from despair.
As the Remy Zero song, the theme for the television show, Smallville, goes, “somebody save me… I don’t care how you do it.”

But when the hero shows up… how quickly we discover that we only want a savior on our terms.
How soon do we start to question the motives, the control, the power of the one who is acting on our behalf…

We do care how our savior shows up.
We have ideas and expectations and want that saving to be on our terms.
And so you find pundits and politicians questioning the presence of Superman in the world in much the same way as the Pharisees question the actions of Jesus.

But it is not just the leaders who turn their backs on this savior in Jesus day…
The crowds who lined the streets to welcome Jesus to Jerusalem, riding on a donkey, cried out “Save us!” “Hosanna!” But in reality, they did care how he saved them.
They wanted a king.
They wanted an earthly victory where Rome got kicked out of their country.
They wanted a personal savior on their own terms.
And as soon as Jesus was arrested and their path to freedom started to dim, their shouts turned to “Crucify Him!”
When death looms on the horizon…
When hope starts to fade…
When our savior becomes powerless… or even dies…
Then where do we turn for help?

It is fascinating that one of the most powerful superheroes in the entire comic book world, Superman, is also one that has faced death. In the 1993 comic book series, he dies in the arms of Lois Lane after fighting a villain to death. This storyline was revisited again in the 2016 film, Batman v Superman. The entire world goes into mourning over the savior who they thought would always be there to rescue them from disaster.
Jesus, too, not only faces death, but embraces it.
Death is a part of his calling.
“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains a single grain,” he tells the crowds (John 12).
But our limited imaginations see death as the end of our stories.
Life is where we are rescued.
Death is defeat.
And if the cross is where Jesus is headed, we want no part of it.
I think this is because we want a savior who acts more like Superman than like Jesus… even if we have doubts about the extent of his power.
Matt Rawle reminds us that Superman saves us over and over again, but “I don’t really have to love my neighbor with Superman flying around. If things get bad, Superman will just swoop in and fix them. There’s not much reason to build up neighborhoods, improve education, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked. If it gets bad, Superman will know what to do.” (p. 125)
Isn’t that how some of us as Christians in this world act?
Jesus is my Savior, so I just need to believe, and I will be rescued from this world of sin and carried away to heaven where everything is perfect.
We want a savior who will save the day without us lifting a finger.
And if that savior is headed towards the defeat of death… there is no saving there for us.

This is because the crowds drastically misunderstood how Jesus saves us.
The kingdom Jesus ushers in doesn’t start in some heaven far away, but right here and right now.
The kingdom is like a mustard seed that someone took and planted in a garden.
The kingdom is like yeast, hidden in flour.
The kingdom is like a grain of sand in an oyster.
The kingdom is like a treasure that is buried.

The kingdom breaks forth out of what we thought was dead, buried, hidden away.
The kingdom is the power of new life rising out of death.
The kingdom says that in every end there is a new beginning.

Just like those crosses that we gave our children this morning in the children’s message will sprout and give birth to new life if we care and tend them, so too, does the life of Jesus unexpectedly bring forth something new out of what we thought was over and done with.
The mustard seed becomes a great tree.
The yeast causes the bread to rise.
The sand becomes a pearl.
The treasure is uncovered.
In the bulb there is a flower.
The stone that sealed the tomb has been rolled away.

Our journey over this next week takes us from the last meal Jesus shares with his disciples, through the cross, and takes us all the way to Sunday morning.
We discover that the cry of “It is finished” on the cross is not the end, but the beginning of what is starting in your life and in mine.
A spark is lit in the world and in our hearts so that we might go out and be the hands and feet of God in this world.
At the end of “Batman vs. Superman,” the world is in mourning because they believe that one of their heroes is dead. People of all stripes are gathered holding candles around his tomb.
And there is an amazing inscription written in chalk below his symbol:
“if you seek his monument – look around you.”

That is the message of the gospel.
We don’t have to wait for heaven.
We don’t have to wait for rescue.
We are invited, encouraged, called… God is BEGGING us to get busy being a part of the work of the kingdom right here and right now.
What the world thought was an ending was only the beginning.
Now the story is YOURS to live.
You are the hero that someone is waiting for.
So go out there, in the name of Jesus, and do it.

Who Is Included in We?

Posted on March 4, 2018Leave a comment

Everyone loves a hometown hero…
The kid who excelled at sports or music or science and then went away to accomplish their dreams.
When they return home, that child is often greeted with love and adoration as friends, family, and neighbors cheer on one of their own.

This was the case when Jesus came back home to Nazareth. He stopped by and visited friends and family, broke bread and shared stories.
But then, on the Sabbath, Jesus went with others to the synagogue and was invited to read from the scroll. He opened up Isaiah and began to read…

As he did so, the people realized that their little Jesus was all grown up. They celebrated him. They raved about how articulate he was and what a powerful speaker he was.

And then they wanted him to perform for them all of the miracles he had done for others.
It if it was good enough for them, it’s good enough for us.

And Jesus refused.

Not because he couldn’t do those miracles…
But because his understanding of calling and purpose was far bigger than that small community in Nazareth.
The Word of God, the Son of Man had not come into this world to save only his own neighborhood… but all of humanity.
The entire community revolted and turned against him as a result, driving him from town.

Last year, the film Wonder Woman brought to life a superhero who also understood her calling and purpose to be bigger than her own community.
Diana of Themyscira is an Amazonian – a people who were created by the Gods to watch over and protect humanity from their bent towards destruction. They believed they had accomplished their task and have retreated away to live on a peaceful island paradise, protected from the outside world and totally unaware of the conflict and struggles of others.
Until war shows up on their doorstep.

While the rest of the Amazons don’t believe that this is their battle to fight, Diana believes that they are called for just this purpose.
She argues with her mother, the leader of the Amazons, and eventually sneaks away in the dark of night so that she might journey “into the world of man, bringing with her the ideals of justice, equality, peace, and love.”
Her mother, Hippolyta catches up with her just as she is about to depart and instead of a blessing, she speaks these words to Diana…
“You have been my greatest love… today you are my greatest sorrow.”

In both the story of Jesus and Wonder Woman, we find ourselves stretched to think beyond our own community, beyond who we have typically defined as “we.”

Every community needs boundaries.
To have a sense of identity and purpose we define ourselves by what we share in common and what we value and hold dear.
This is something that pastors do often when speaking with a congregation. To build a sense of energy and camaraderie, I will often find myself talking about the things that we believe or do or say.
“We believe this…”
“We all understand that…”
“We feel called to x, y, z…”

Whenever using that term, “we”, however, it is important to think about who we are including.
In some ways, we use the word “we” to limit the boundaries of community and group ourselves into “us” verses “them.”
And, we assume that everyone who is sitting with us thinks and believes the same as ourselves.

As your pastor, I know that isn’t true!
The reality is that we find ourselves at various stages in our Christian faith and have doubts and struggles with different aspects of that faith.
We are more diverse than we like to believe.
Just to demonstrate… shout out your favorite color…

If I stood before you all and said, “We love the color blue,” not only would it not be true… but it would begin to exclude those of you who feel differently.
In the same way, I couldn’t faithfully stand before you and say, “We are conservative” or “we are liberal”… or even “we agree to disagree.” If I did, good portions of this congregation would feel excluded.
We have to be careful about how we use the word “we” because it lumps people together in ways that are unfair or inaccurate…

But we can also use “we” to expand our sense of belonging.
The people in the synagogue responded so favorably when Jesus first began to speak… perhaps because they had a limited sense of who he was talking about.
They nodded in affirmation, hearing the familiar words of Isaiah that had been a part of their tradition.
And yet, Jesus stretched their application of that scripture.
He expanded those familiar words to be about more than just their own liberation and salvation and healing.
He wanted them to understand that the “we” God has come to save is about far more than Nazareth or the Israelites… but was for the entire world.
And that stirred up anger and discomfort.

There is a poem I read once by Eddie Askew that describes that feeling of discord that comes when we are pushed beyond our definitons of “we”:

And, suddenly, I notice with unease, you standing with them, outside the boundary wire of my concern. Not asking that they be admitted to my world, but offering me the chance to leave my warm cocoon, thermostatically controlled by selfishness, and take my place with them, and you. At risk in real relationships, where love not law, defines what I should do.

The thing about our heroes is they can challenge us to become the best versions of ourselves.
They can push us to think beyond our limitations and our boundaries.
They can stretch our sense of “we.”

The thing about superheroes, however, is they will never quite be exactly like us.
Diana has a sense of calling that is for this entire world, but she will never quite be one of us. She is, a demi-god, child of a Zeus. She identifies with humanity, breaks down the barriers of us and them, but we will never be like her.

While we might think the same of Jesus, he turns our concepts of us and them on their head.
Instead of simply being an ideal and a model we look towards, Jesus invites us to become like him.
Jesus doesn’t just push our ideas of us and them, but tears apart any distinction.
When we choose to follow Christ, when we allow his understanding to guide ours, then we actually become a part of a new body, a new sense of “us”.

In Christ, there is no distinction between us and them, Jew or Gentile, slave or free, man or woman.
In the body of Christ, we are one.
Thanks be to God… Amen.

Breaking the Rules

Posted on February 25, 2018Leave a comment

As children, our understanding of right and wrong, good and bad, and the direction of our moral compass is shaped by our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, teachers, older siblings, friends, and neighbors.
Sometimes, they do this through gentle encouragement. Other times, it is by laying down strict boundaries. In other cases, it is the failure of such people to guide the lives of young people that leaves them lost, swimming without instructions in a sea of temptations.

That doesn’t mean, as young people, that we immediately understand the influence that the people we love have on us.
A few weeks ago, I invited you all to share with me stories of the heroes in your own lives.
One of you wrote to me that you didn’t recognize your hero at first. He was hidden behind a lot of rules and regulations: how to be a gentleman… how to keep your shoes polished… the proper way to do something.

Our friend here in the church wrote that it took nearly twenty years to start seeing past all of those rules to come to understand who their father really was. In the process, he began to understand the life lessons that came along with all of those rules and procedures: lessons of respect, the giving of time together, the ability of something to be transformed. Once understanding really seeped in, the role that hero played in his life stuck with him… and will continue to do so, even though his father is now deceased.

This week, as we explore what makes a hero, Matt Rawle focuses on the story of Spiderman. In many ways, Peter Parker, the teenage boy in the suit, is a lot like our friend here in the congregation. While he had lost his parents, his Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben took him in and raised him and tried to shape his life. It took time for him to understand the lessons that these important adults were teaching.
There is a scene in the 2002 movie, starring Toby Maguire, where Uncle Ben is determined to have a chat with Peter.

However, Peter is too wrapped up in the temptations of his new powers, too focused on winning fights for some money, and too self-centered to listen to the advice of his Uncle in the moment. Only later, after his uncle’s death, do the lessons begin to sink in and shape the moral code of Spiderman.

Biblically speaking, we are shaped and guided by the influence of the saints that have gone before us – the heroes within the scriptures like Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, David, Matthew, Mark, and Paul. Sometimes we learn from the mistakes that they have made. Other times, we are encouraged to follow the rules from God that they have passed down. Still other times, we are encouraged to let their example shape who we are.

At the beginning of this year, I began with a group of friends to read through the bible, chronologically. Our reading plan will take us through every verse in 365 days.

So far, we’ve spent a lot of time in the rules and regulations of the Torah, the law of God passed down through Moses. There are rules about everything – what to eat, how to treat slaves, when to pray, who you can and can’t have sex with. Some of these rules make absolutely no sense to us today… and some would have been quite strange for their day as well.

And that was because God was trying to form and shape a people who would be holy.
Set apart.
Other.
Just like Uncle Ben told Peter that he was becoming the man he would be for the rest of his life, God wanted these people to become the kind of people, holy and set apart, that they would be for the rest of their lives.

God wanted people to take one good look at the Israelites and be able to tell that they belonged to God and lived according to God’s values.

At first, that holiness was shaped by relationship. God was in relationship with the patriarchs of our faith like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – speaking to them personally and leading them along the way they should go.
But in order to shape a community, a society, rules were a more effective way to teach these lessons of holiness. Behind each commandment or law, God was forming a people who would honor God, honor creation, and honor one another. It was not the rule that was important… but how the rule would shape our lives.
There comes a time, however, when those same old rules handed down generation after generation start to lose their power.
When we forget the lessons behind the rules and the relationship with the God who gave them to us and we begin to idolize the rules themselves.

I heard a story once about a church that stood up and turned around to face the back doors every time they said the Lord’s Prayer.
A new pastor arrived as was puzzled by this strange practice so she asked why they did so.
No one knew. No one could remember. It was just the rule for how they did it.
A few years later, they were updating the sanctuary. The wallpaper was being removed so they could freshen the space up with some paint. And as they peeled back the wallpaper on that back wall, they discovered the words of the Lord’s Prayer. In year’s past they had been painted there on the back wall. The church must have stood and turned to read them together.
But reason behind the practice had long since faded away. Only the practice remained.

This was the reality that fell upon the people of God as Jesus walked among them. The Pharisees believed that by following the rules of God and the traditions handed down from previous generations that they were being faithful to God.

Whenever they encountered others who broke such laws, they were quick to point out their flaws.
And so in today’s passage from Mark, they criticize Jesus and the disciples for picking heads of wheat, even though it was a Sabbath day on which no work should be performed.

Jesus replies that the law, and the Sabbath, were made for humanity… not the other way around. We were not meant to fit our lives into the boxes of rules written ages ago, but those rules were meant to bring us life and rest and honor and wholeness.
If in this new time and place, if in this particular situation of need, the rule actually limits the ability of God’s people to be set apart or to honor God, one another, or creation… then sometimes those rules need to themselves be set aside.
We can point to heroes in our world like Rosa Parks, Ghandi, and others, who willfully chose to disobey laws in order to help shape our societies into places that were more just, equal, and loving places.

But Jesus also teaches us that sometimes, simply following the rule is not enough.
When Jesus faces temptation in the wilderness, the devil tries to steer him away from his path of ministry by quoting scripture. But Jesus points to other scriptures that better fulfil God’s intent.
As he taught the people in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also took some of the familiar rules we knew and made them even stronger. In Matthew 5, there are a number of ways in which even the Ten Commandments are reframed –
“you have heard it said to those who lived long ago, ‘Don’t commit murder,’… but I say to you that everyone who is angry with their brother or sister will be in danger of judgment.” (5:21-22)
In these stories of our faith, Jesus is helping us to see that the rules themselves do not determine what is right or what is wrong.
They are not the ends themselves, but a tool which helps to shape who God wants us to become.
Sometimes, to do what is right, means to break the rules and do what others might believe is wrong.
And sometimes, it is to take the rules we know and love and live them out even more deeply.

How are we supposed to know what is right and what is wrong?
How are we supposed to respond when not just biblical laws, but societal laws that form and shape us, no longer support the values that God is trying to shape in us as a people?
The good news is that we do not simply have rules that are handed down, written in stone, that will never change.
No, we have an example to follow.

I tended to be a rule follower as a child, but I can remember a few times when a rule was being enforced but I didn’t understand the purpose or intent behind it.
It especially made me mad when the people who were sharing the rule were not following it themselves.
“Do what I say, and not what I do” was a phrase that frustrated me to no end.
I think that was because I knew even then that the rules themselves are not what make our actions right or wrong, but it is the example and the life we lead as a result of them.
When the people we are supposed to look up to or emulate aren’t following the rules, they lose their meaning.

But we do have an example to follow.
We have a Savior who walked among us and dealt with our temptations.
We follow someone who not only had a relationship with God, but was God, and who lived out God’s values in every step taken upon this earth.
And so while the rules in our lives might guide us, our job is to keep our eyes fixed upon Jesus.
When we are in relationship with Jesus, and allow God’s ways to fill our heart, then every step we take will be holy.

Do What Is Good

Posted on February 18, 2018Leave a comment

I think in many ways it is a cruel irony that as we begin our Lenten series on heroes that our first pop culture example is the Dark Knight, Batman.
As a young boy, Bruce Wayne was a victim of gun violence.
In a dark alley, his parents were gunned down by a thief in front of his very eyes.
That traumatic moment forever changed the course of his life – setting him on a path to fight crime, battle evil, and protect his city.

Over the past few days, I have watched other young people, teenagers who survived the school shooting in Parkland, Florida, take up their own calling to demand change in a society in which too many lives are taken as a result of gun violence.
I read a story this morning about moms in Keosauqua here in southeast Iowa who rallied together on Thursday to raise the money to install a safety device called a sleeve in every classroom in their small school.
As one mom said, “we’re tired of it. It’s like, OK, nobody’s going to do anything about this: Our government, our state government, our national government. We’re the moms, and these are our kids. What can we do?” (https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/local/columnists/kyle-munson/2018/02/16/sick-school-shootings-these-iowa-moms-took-action-single-day-make-their-kids-classrooms-safe/344133002/?hootPostID=746aea71a5583aa9b0209e37f4bdbabb)

What can we do?
When evil seems to lurk around every corner…
When the places we thought were safe become sites of terror…
When a sense of hopelessness in the ability to truly witness change starts to seep in…

Sometimes our “what can we do?” is a cry of resignation.

Where are the good guys? Where are the heroes who are going to rise up and make everything better?

And sometimes, it is a reminder that we, too, have been called to act. Our discipleship is lived out in how we answer that question.

Each of the weeks of this Lenten series, we are going to be exploring together ways we often see the world through opposing lenses: good vs. evil, right vs. wrong, insiders vs. outsiders. We divide up this world and place ourselves firmly in one camp or another.
And yet, as we think together about how Jesus comes to redeem and restore this world… how Jesus acts to save us from sin and bring us eternal live, we discover that often Jesus turns our ways of viewing the world upside down.

In fact, when a leader of the community tried to call Jesus “good” in an effort to flatter him, Jesus practically rejected the label. “Why do you call me good?” he asks in Luke chapter 18. “No one is good but God alone.”

In doing so, Jesus reminds that all that is good comes from God.
When our Creator spent six days building and forming and shaping all that we know and see, God looked out and called it good.
That isn’t because of something innate within us.
It is because we are from God.

And so, what is this evil that we promise to resist in our baptismal vows?
What is this force that opposes life and leads so many on paths of destruction?
Matt Rawle defines evil in his book, “What Makes a Hero?” as nothingness. “Evil represents a void…. Evil is a shadow that cannot stand on its own. A shadow by itself is nothing but the absence of light… made manifest when someone or something stands between us and the light of God shining through Christ.” (p. 26)

Evil is the result when we let anyone or anything stand between us and the love and power of God made manifest in this world.
Sometimes what blocks the goodness of God is our own selfishness and sin.
Sometimes it is anger and resentment.
Sometimes it is idolatry – when we take something that is on its own good or neutral in value – but elevate it to a status that blocks our ability to reason or follow God.
I think in many ways, our nation’s obsession with guns has reached the point of idolatry. Guns themselves are not good or bad, they just are… however, our unwillingness to even allow for research to be done as to the causes of such endemic gun violence means that we cannot take the actions we need to in order to curb the tide of this deadly force.

I think about how through training and technology, Bruce Wayne would put on his bat costume and watch over Gotham, but traditionally, Batman never took up a gun himself. Even as he fought night after night against the dark forces, he sought to never use deadly force in bringing justice to his city. He kept himself focused on his purpose and what he was fighting against.

As people of faith, our call is not simply call something good or evil, but to keep our eyes focused on our purpose and the source of what is truly good, God alone.
It is what Christ did as he lived out his ministry among us.
And in many ways, the blueprint for how we should live and follow his example is found in that familiar verse from the prophet Micah.

“He has told you, human one, what is good and what the Lord requires from you: to do justice, embrace faithful love, and walk humbly with your God.”
Goodness is therefore the result of a life of justice, mercy, and humility.

First, we are called to do justice.
As Jesus reaches out to teach a lawyer about how to receive eternal life, he tells the parable of the good Samaritan.
The lawyer must learn to recognize even the Samaritan as his brother.
He must do justice by acknowledging that God has created each and every person.
Oppression and violence and hatred must cease.
We must always look out for the outcast, the vulnerable among us.

Second, we must embrace God’s love and practice mercy.
Jesus lived this out through acts of healing and mercy – feeding the hungry, healing the sick.
In every action, he sought to bring life to people by reaching out and touching them.
It is not just reaching out in love, however, to people we know and care about… it is also reaching out to offer kindness and forgiveness even to those who would seek to harm us.
Just as Bruce Wayne refused to take up the weapons that destroyed his family, so Jesus refuses to play the games or fight in the ways of evil.
He forgives those who crucify him.
He doesn’t fight back.
He knows that with God there is another way.

Lastly, we are called to walk humbly with our God.
Jesus showed us what this meant through the cross.
The greatest love, he told us, was to lay down our lives for our friends.
And so as the Christ hymn of Philippians reminds us, even though Christ Jesus was in the form of God, he emptied himself, he was born among us, and he humbled himself even to the point of death in order to serve the will of God. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Today, we are called to a life of goodness. A life of justice, and mercy, and humility.
We are called to lay aside anything that would distract us from God’s life and power in this world.
When evil looms around us and lives are being taken every day by forces that oppose God’s will, I think we are invited this Lent to a time of reflection and repentence.
Where are we complicit?
Where do we need to seek justice?
Where do we need to practice mercy?
Where do we need to humbly bow before our God and lay aside our idols?
May God stir our hearts…