The Other Side of the Lake

The Other Side of the Lake

Luke 8:22-25

            My New Testament professor in seminary warned us against “harmonizing the gospels”—that is, trying to blend them together into one continuous story.  Instead, she told us, the gospels were four different versions of the same event, Jesus’ time on earth.  We must view them as separate accounts, with each chronicler telling the story of Jesus’ life from a different viewpoint, in the same way that witnesses at a trial tell the same story from their differing points of view.  This would account for the discrepancies between the gospels.  In fact, I, like many of you, would be more suspicious of the gospel accounts if they were uniform—exactly the same.  We would suspect collusion—that the disciples got together and decided on the “official” account.  This would be especially true of the events of the resurrection and Jesus’ appearances afterwards.

            We read in the gospels the stories of Jesus crossing the Sea of Galilee.  Some of these accounts mention Jesus walking on the water.  All of them describe Jesus calming a storm.  It isn’t these events that catch my attention today—at least, not exactly.

            One side of the Galilee was Jewish territory.  The other side was Gentile land.  When Jesus and his followers “crossed the lake” they were going from their home turf to foreign soil.  This would have been a daunting experience for Jews.  Remember, they were to have no contact with the impure Gentiles.  They couldn’t eat with them; they couldn’t talk to them; they certainly weren’t supposed to be in their territory.  Yet when Jesus said, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake,” they went—if not willingly, at least with no hesitation.

            We know what they found there:  a man so possessed by demons that he could no longer live in civilized society.  His countrymen had tried to contain him.  Perhaps they felt that if they could subdue him they might effect a cure, but that didn’t happen.  He burst any bonds they tried to place on him, including chains.  He’d been given up as hopeless, left to his own devices.  Perhaps the people thought he’d eventually destroy himself or die of starvation, and they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.

            We know the rest of the story, how Jesus drove out the man’s demons and scared the wits out of the local inhabitants so that they practically threw him out of town.  Jesus and his followers had to cross to the other side of the lake one more time.

            How many times in our lives are we called to cross to the other side of the lake?  We find ourselves in comfortable country.  Everything is going well for us.  We’re living peacefully among family and friends—likeminded people who support us and make us feel at home.  But Jesus comes to us and says, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.”  We know the journey won’t be easy—and oftentimes we’re right.  Just getting to the other side of the lake involves danger—at the very least insecurity, because we’re leaving behind all that’s familiar, all that’s comfortable.  Yet when Jesus calls we know how we must respond.  We go.  In spite of the possible dangers, and the upset to our well-loved lives, when Jesus calls us, we go, because that’s where God wants us to be.

Where is the other side of the lake?  Perhaps we’ll find it at work.  Perhaps it will be in a new church congregation.  Perhaps it will be a new city, or with a new set of friends, or in a new living arrangement.   Wherever it is, we must go.  Never mind the storms we may pass through to get there.   Never mind the challenges we face when we arrive.  The other side of the lake is where we are called to live our lives.  How can we do any less for the God who has done so much for us?

The Peaceable Kingdom

The Peaceable Kingdom

Isaiah 65:25

            Recently I received two letters from a gun advocacy group.  Actually, except for the first paragraph, it was the same letter twice.  I have no idea how I got on their mailing list since I have never owned a gun, never expressed an interest in owning a gun, and can visualize no future in which I might want to own a gun.

            Let me make one thing perfectly clear:  I am not anti-gun.  I believe with all my heart that responsible people should be able to own guns for legitimate purposes. On the other hand, I am also committed to the idea of keeping guns out of the hands of those who use them to murder innocent victims.

            Columbine should have been enough.

            Sandy Hook should have been enough.

            But they weren’t.  There are still individuals and groups who believe that any law which restricts gun ownership in any way will lead to having all guns confiscated—something which is absolutely impossible.  Unfortunately, these individuals and groups have enough political power to block the passage of rational laws designed to keep guns out of the hands of individuals who are a danger to themselves and others—laws favored by the majority of Americans.

            I would like to share my answer to the letters I received.  I had hoped my response might have opened a dialog with the advocacy group.  It didn’t happen.  Please feel free to respond.  Only when we can debate this issue in rational and meaningful ways can we hope to find a solution that will allow gun owners to pursue their constitutional right to own guns while protecting innocent people from being victims of gun abuse.

Dear Sir:

I read your letter—or should I say letters—with amusement.  I found it interesting that, apart from the first two paragraphs, the letters were identical.  I would have expected more originality from someone in your position.  I am also amused because I am not a gun owner, nor a supporter of gun rights the way you interpret them.  I have no idea how or from whom you got my name.

I do agree with you that responsible adults should have the right to own guns.  This right is not under attack as you so vehemently insist.  The Constitution undeniably gives you and others the right to own guns, and no one is trying to grab yours.  It is proof of the level of your paranoia that you feel your gun ownership is under attack.

I know that part of your standard argument is, “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people”—and, of course, that is correct.  I would hope, however, that you would admit guns kill people more effectively than most other weapons.  Otherwise we’d be arming our soldiers with swords and spears.

That efficiency lies at the heart of the major problem with gun ownership in this country.  Easy access to guns means easy access to killing.  Too many dangerous people find it too easy to get their hands on guns. A recent article in our local paper documented this fact.  Since Sandy Hook there has been an acute increase in gun incidents and deaths in our nation’s schools.  The article identifies this increase as part of a larger problem.  There are 86 deaths from bullets in this country on an average day.  These include suicides, which are more prevalent in homes where guns are present.  I’m sure you will tell me that none of the current or proposed gun laws would have prevented these deaths—and you may be correct. I expect you might also feel that a certain amount of collateral damage is acceptable as long as your rights are protected.

If you had any sense of history, and if you had any compassion for the people whose lives have been affected by gun violence, you would find a way for your organization to work with those who are trying to find sensible solutions to the problems caused by guns.  You would realize that you and your co-enthusiasts are part of the problem.  Instead, in the face of overwhelming evidence that something must be done, you continue to parrot the same old tired lines.  You should be ashamed of yourself for maintaining an adversarial position rather than working with those trying to find a reasonable answer.

At some point you will likely tell me that if it’s criminal to own a gun, only criminals will have guns—and that statement is correct as far as it goes.  It is impossible, however, that the simple act of owning a gun will ever be criminal in this country despite your assertions to the contrary.  (I would be glad to reason this out for you, and am surprised you haven’t reasoned it out for yourself.)  More important is the corollary:  If everyone is free to carry a gun with no restrictions, then criminals can do so.  The streets of Memphis provide an example.  Since Tennessee has adopted an open-carry law, Memphis has become a much more dangerous place to live.  Gun violence has increased many fold in the past few months.

I am sorry that you, your organization, and other gun rights groups cannot see how damaging your stand is to your own cause.  The reaction to your adamant insistence on your position has already begun.  Recently, in New York City, 1,000 people marched to call attention to gun violence, and to urge that a solution be found.  Lest you dismiss this number as inconsequential, I assure you it is only a start.  The time is coming when the rational citizens of this country will realize they possess the untapped power of the majority.  When that happens, the result will be much more draconian than if you had had the foresight to be part of the solution rather than such a great part of the problem.

Sincerely,

Kenneth L. Sipley

First, Do No Harm

First, Do No Harm

Romans 13:8-10

            Anyone who has read enough medical novels, seen enough doctor movies or TV shows, or has anything to do with the medical profession will recognize the title.  It’s a misquotation from the Hippocratic Oath, the vow taken by doctors and other medical personnel as they begin their careers.  The actual quote is, “never do harm to anyone.” 

“First, do no harm” is a good place for medical personnel to start.  If they can avoid making a situation worse, they can begin to work on the healing process.  If their treatment causes more damage than has already been done by disease, illness, or trauma, then that situation must be reversed before the original problem can be addressed.

“First, do no harm” is good advice for all of us.  If our interactions with others cause damage to those relationships, we have reclamation work to do before we can build something positive.

Paul understood this.  Although he may not have heard of the Hippocratic Oath (and was certainly not a doctor), Paul knew how easy it can be to harm relationships.  Remember his letter to the church at Philippi:  “I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord.  Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women…”  Paul was concerned enough about the rift to encourage them to make peace, and to ask that others help resolve the conflict.

It may seem strange to hear Paul speak fervently about love.  We expect discourses on love from John.  His first letter is full of entreaties for believers to love each other.  Paul usually holds forth on other subjects, but here he focuses on love, and he does so by returning to the commandments—at least some of them.  Exodus 20:1-16 gives us all ten, but Paul is only concerned here with the last six.  The first four deal with humankind’s relationship with God.  The last six deal with humankind’s relationship with each other.  We know Jesus said the two great commandments were to love God and love neighbor.  The first four commandments are about how we show our love for God.  The rest are about how we show our love for people.

Paul says that the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.  Then, after quoting the human-to human commandments to support his point, he uses the same language Jesus used to sum up:  “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  Like Jesus, Paul recognized the need for healthy self-love—not the narcissistic love that causes us (again to quote Paul) to “think more highly of ourselves than we ought,” but a realization of our value as God’s creatures, the same value in which we should hold all God’s creation.  When we learn to love all our neighbors in this way we will begin to live—and love—like Jesus.

We’re used to hearing Paul speak against the law, but here he speaks for it.  Is this a contradiction?  By no means!  The law Paul so frequently criticizes is the formal structure imposed by the Pharisees.  Here Paul cuts to the heart of the law—love!  Remember:  “The one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”

The last verse of this passage brings us back to the misquote in the title: “First, do no harm.”  Paul says, “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love fulfills the law.”  When we avoid doing harm to our neighbors we are on the path of fulfillment.  As we interact with others, whatever else we do we must be sure we don’t damage our relationships.  This gives us a starting point to build positive ties to our neighbors.

And who is our neighbor? 

Who isn’t our neighbor?

A Prisoner Set Free

A Prisoner Set Free

Ephesians 4:1-7

            We are acutely aware that our system of justice is far from perfect.  We read of prisoners who have been set free when new evidence has come to light.  Today that evidence often has to do with DNA samples that prove the convicted person could not possibly have committed the crime.  There are college classes designed to analyze this kind of forensic evidence.  Some of these classes are responsible for proving the innocence of people who were wrongly convicted of serious crimes.  We rejoice when someone is proven innocent and released, convinced that even though justice was delayed, in the end it was not denied.

            Paul begins the fourth chapter of his epistle to Ephesians by identifying himself as “a prisoner for the Lord.”  He doesn’t claim to be innocent, and isn’t trying to fight the charges against him—nor is anyone else taking up his case to try to prove he isn’t guilty.  He’s a prisoner and that’s that! 

            Of course, we know why Paul was a prisoner.  Elsewhere in his letters he calls himself “a prisoner of the gospel”—and that is a true statement on two levels.  He considers himself a slave for Christ; he has given himself willingly into that servitude.  He is Christ’s servant just as Christ was—and is—the servant of the world.  Remember how Jesus said, “If any would be great among you, that person must be a servant; and in order to be first, you must be everyone’s slave.”  Paul took that to heart.

            Paul was also a prisoner for the gospel, imprisoned because he had become a Christian and had fulfilled his calling as an apostle to the Gentiles.  As he preached and taught the gospel in cities throughout the Roman Empire he made many enemies.  His preaching eventually cost him his freedom, and finally, his life.

            Even in prison Paul continued to preach and teach.  Several of his letters were written during his imprisonment in Rome.  In the sense of being able to communicate, Paul was never a prisoner.  Today people are imprisoned to shut them up.  That certainly wasn’t the case in the first century.  Paul met regularly with visitors, and obviously had writing materials made available to him.

            Within himself, Paul was always free (remember Paul and Silas in Philippi?).  Imprisoning his body had no effect on his soul.  We can be sure that, even if he had not been able to write, or meet with his fellow Christians, Paul would not have felt like a prisoner.  He would have missed the fellowship with other believers, and he would have been sorry he could not communicate with the churches he held so dear, but his soul would have been free.

            Listen to what he says to the church at Ephesus.  He tells them to “walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.”  This doesn’t sound like a man embittered over being in jail.  We know that, in spite of his fiery nature, Paul conducted himself as a model prisoner, exhibiting the same humility, gentleness, patience and love he urged on the Ephesians.

            Paul also establishes the unity that believers find in Christ.  Listen to the “one-ness” he describes:  one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.  Here is where Paul finds his real freedom.  Despite his physical imprisonment, he remains one with the Ephesians—indeed, with Christians everywhere—in hope, in faith, and, most importantly, in unity with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

            So—is Paul a prisoner or not?  Despite the restrictions on his movement, his acceptance of Jesus as Lord of his life and his reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit sets him free.

Notice

For the next two weeks Ken Sipley will be on vacation.  You are invited to review older posts during the interim.

Love Is From God

1 John 4:7-12

            When it comes to talking about love, the Greek language is far superior to English.  We have only one word for “love,” and we use it to indicate love for a spouse, for parents and siblings, for children and for friends—even for foods, cars, and other objects.  We have to figure out from the context just what kind of love someone means.

            The Greeks have three words for love.  Each word allows the reader/listener to know what kind of love the writer/speaker is referring to.

Eros is romantic love, the kind of love we share with very few people during our lives.  No matter how many times we fall in love, these affairs still only involve a handful of people. 

Filios is love for family members and very close friends—friends who are like members of the family.  While I have no blood brothers or sisters, there are a select few people who I consider family.  For them I feel filial love even though we are not directly related.  

Agape is the kind of self-giving love that Jesus modeled when he was here on earth. When John talks about love in his letters he uses the word agape.  When he says, “Dear friends, let us love one another,” he certainly doesn’t mean eros.  We couldn’t possibly share romantic love with everyone.  It would be very time-consuming and get us into a lot of trouble.  Neither does he mean filios.  We are not expected to love everyone we meet as if they were our parents or brothers and sisters.  No one has a family that large.

 We are expected to love as Jesus did—loving everyone we have anything to do with, and loving them with a love that involves giving of ourselves even to the point of self-sacrifice.

We know how difficult this can be.  Some of us even say (of someone we don’t like very much) “I’ll try to love him for Jesus’ sake.”  Can we imagine Jesus saying that?  Jesus loved everyone, even the scribes and Pharisees with whom he disagreed—even those who no one else loved.

We know we can never love like that on our own.    Eros is often fairly easy, especially if we love someone who loves us back.  Filios is a little harder.  We know how difficult it can be to get along with family members—until someone threatens them from outside the family. 

Agape is the most difficult love of all.  It involves loving everyone, not just those close to us, or those who we can relate to easily.  It means loving the person who cuts us off in traffic.  It means loving the salesperson or waiter who is rude to us.  It means loving the next door neighbor who never has a kind word to say about anyone.  It means, above all, loving the unlovable.  Luke tells us that Jesus even commands us to love our enemies.

 This is the kind of love we see demonstrated by people like Mother Teresa.  This is the kind of love shown by missionaries who give up all the comforts of home and family to go to complete strangers and show them Christ.

We need God’s help to even attempt agape.  We must ask God for more and more love to share with more and more people

How do we love this way?  First, we must realize how much God loves us.  How could anyone love us enough to die for us—not just for us, but for the whole world?  How could anyone love us enough to bless us with so many good things—family, friends, and material goods enough to meet our needs?

When we accept how much God loves us we can begin to practice agape—and practice is the correct word.  As behavioral scientists tell us, it is easier to act ourselves into a new way of thinking than to think our way into a new way of acting.

Start small.  Smile at that sour salesclerk and say, “Thank you.”  Greet that negative neighbor with a cheery, “Hello!”  Do him a favor—commit a random act of kindness. 

Don’t be surprised if, over time, it becomes easier to live an agape life.  It can be habit-forming.

The Little Old Lady in the Second Row

The Little Old Lady in the Second Row

2 Timothy 2:14-19

Erik Leidzen was a 20^th century American composer who wrote much of his music for the church.  While he wrote some vocal music, he is best known for his works for band—a genre which does not occupy a large niche in the overall scope of church music.  Still, Leidzen is, in a somewhat limited circle, respected for his music but even more for his Christian witness. 

Working in an age when church music was becoming more complex, and when other composers were writing music that was difficult both to play and to understand, Leidzen kept his music straightforward enough to be understood by everyone.  Although often difficult to play, it is never difficult to listen to.  He said he wrote for “the little old lady in the second row,” the untrained, unsophisticated listener whose only desire is to receive a blessing from the music she (he) hears in church.  In pursuing that goal, Erik Leidzen was a huge success.

The writer of the epistles to Timothy (just for the sake of simplicity let’s call him Paul) might have had the same issue in mind when he said to his young protégé—speaking of Timothy’s congregation—“charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers.”  Two verses later he tells the young pastor to “avoid irreverent babble, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness, and their talk will spread like gangrene.”

These are tough words, but they highlight a problem that was prevalent in the early church, and remains a serious one today.  Where do solid teaching and discussion about Scripture leave off and useless arguments begin?  How do we study Scripture and grow in knowledge without replacing what the Bible says with our own understanding—that is, create false doctrine?

Both issues plague today’s churches.  When Paul warns Timothy about his congregants quarreling over words, he is foreshadowing the rift between systematic theologians and the people in the pews.  As much as members of our congregation want to hear music they can relate to in worship, they also want to hear a word from the Lord that helps them get through the trials and struggles they will face during the week.  Like philosophers arguing about the meaning of words such as esthetics, theologians can become so wrapped up in arguments with each other over words such as soteriology (the theory of salvation) that they forget about the people who will sit in the pews and listen to sermons on Sunday morning.  Their arguments mean as much to our congregations as a lecture on water safety means to someone who is drowning.

The church also faces the problem of preachers who try to make the Bible say what they want it to say rather than hear what the Bible says.  This happens when people pick and choose selected verses rather than reading whole passages for context.  I once heard a preacher say that you can prove almost anything with Scripture.  He went on to tell about the woman who read the verse “All things are yours,” and found in it an excuse for her shoplifting.  While we shake our heads at the woman’s misinterpretation, we also remember how many times those who occupy our pulpits read into Scripture their own political or social agendas.

What’s the solution?  For the first issue, we must always keep in mind the people to whom we are preaching.  They come, Sunday after Sunday, like beggars looking for bread.  What they need is good, wholesome meals, not rich, rare delicacies.  For the second issue, we must study Scripture diligently and try to come to God’s word with fresh, new eyes, not bringing ourselves to the table, or what we think we know.  We must remember that we too are beggars looking for bread.  We also need to feed on the word.  Like every member of our congregation, we’re more like Leidzen’s little old lady in the second row than we care to admit.