Romans 12:9-21; Matthew 16:21-28
“Christian Living: A Labor (Day) of Love”
Over these last several weeks, Paul has laid out for us God’s great patience and persistence at entering into loving relationship with God’s creation. The only way Paul, or any of us for that matter, can respond to such grace is by our worship.
But, what kind of worship? Thomas Yoder Neufeld, author of Recovering Jesus: The Witness of the New Testament, suggests that considering everything, the only worship that makes sense to Paul is a spiritual one in which we offer our lives – mind, body, and soul – as “a living sacrifice.” Our lives become a worship of God when we use our imagination, our skills and talents, our possessions in such a way that it glorifies God.
What Paul has for us in Romans 12 are incredible possibilities, rather than ordinary obligations. The letter is written to encourage those in the church, not to get on their case or to make them feel guilty. These people want to follow Christ. They want to do the right thing. They want to do what is expected of them. But there is a pressing need to know if they are on the right track.
So, Paul lays it out to them – and for us - the signs of living a Christian life, things to look for if our lives have truly become a worship of God. It’s not a ‘to-do’ list of things to check off, to work on until everything is done, but more a list of the various things a life such as this might possibly include – considering the gifts of the Spirit may be different for all of us and our lives not marked in the same way.
With “genuine love” (v. 9), we can hate what is evil; we can cling to what is good.
As Christians, we are not to just be critical of evil we are to take a strong position against it. We are to hate violence, to hate poverty, to hate sexism, to hate greed, to hate neglect of God’s creation. And in doing so, we are to hold fast to what is good.
We can love one another and respect each other, even in our differences. We can be passionate. We can be enthusiastic. We can offer service. We can rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, and persevere in prayer.
Paul says, It’s best – and even special - to hang out with those who are not flashy or always ‘tooting their own horn.’ Paul placed a lot of value in those unlikely saints of the faith who were “not always wise by human standards, or powerful, or of noble birth” (1 Cor. 1:26) Perhaps together we are to join in passionate worship, intentional faith development, risk-taking mission and service.
We can contribute to the needs of the “saints.” We can extend hospitality to strangers.
Maybe we are to participate in addressing those needs by our extravagant generosity or encouraged to “extend” or “practice” hospitality with such zeal that whenever a stranger walks into our midst we are overcome with the love of Christ. This hospitality is to be so radical that it becomes like a phobia in which our fear is replaced by love.
We can even bless those who bother us; rather than cursing them.
Not only are we to invoke the very best for those who would harm us, we are also with equal tenacity to pursue them with love. Think about those we most fear today because of what they might do to us – the illegal aliens who would take over our country, the terrorists who would destroy our way of life, the gay and lesbians who would undermine our moral ground. What would happen if those who have experienced God’s relentless pursuit of strangers and sinners were to pursue the alien, those who are different from us and those who are hostile to us, with the same clever and persistence love?
So, we can do what we can. But are we? As recipients of God’s grace, have we been doing all we can? We can love, but do we? We can hate what is evil, but do we? We can respect the differences of others, but do we? We can contribute to the needs of others, but do we?
A stranger walked into a restaurant in a strange town. The waiter came and asked him for his order. Feeling lonely, the stranger replied, "Meat loaf and a kind word."
When the waiter returned with the meat loaf, the stranger said, "Okay, so where's the kind word?"
The waiter put down the meat loaf and sighed, bent down, and whispered gently, "Don't eat the meat loaf."
Okay. Maybe we do. Maybe we do tell some people about the meat loaf. But is there more? I think Paul would say so.
Earlier In Romans 12, Paul invited his readers to pick up a towel and an apron and actually get to work “according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (12:3). We have gifts or jobs to do “that differ according to the grace given to us” (12:6). We have both an assignment and the means by which to carry the assignment forward. We’re expected to do what we can.
If we think we can’t because it’s beyond our ability, “I could never do that.” Wrong! God doesn’t ask us to do what we can’t do. If we think we are not needed because someone more capable will take care of it. Wrong! They’re not being called to do your job – you are!
Paul’s says there are tasks the Spirit has given us all to do, each in its own time. You do what you’ve been tasked to do. You teach if you’re a teacher, you encourage if you’re a cheerleader, you minister if you’re a minister, you give if you’re a giver, and you lead if you’re a leader. (vv. 7-8).
You do what you can to:
• bless those who persecute you
• not curse those who persecute you
• rejoice with those who rejoice
• weep with those who weep
• live in harmony
• be humble
• mingle with the less fortunate
• not think you’re so smart
• not repay evil with evil
• live peaceably with all
• not take revenge
• feed your hungry enemies
• give drink to the thirsty enemies
• not be overcome with evil
• overcome evil with good
Betty Meadows, general presbyter of Mid-Kentucky Presbytery (a position similar, in some ways, to bishop in other traditions), describes a summer sabbatical that transformed her life. She left her churchy world behind and went “under cover” for three months, working as a Waffle House hostess. To her surprise, as she put it, “the risen Christ showed up every day” (in those doing what they could do).
1. A van broke down in the parking lot, on the Fourth of July, carrying a family from Alabama. No garage or mechanic could be found. A waitress heard of their plight and called her boyfriend. He arrived 15 minutes later and fixed their van, for the price of a cup of coffee.
You do what YOU CAN do!
2. A lawyer set up shop in the Waffle House, offering legal help to the needy of the community, for what they could pay — or for no payment at all, if they couldn’t afford it. “Day after day,” writes Betty, “this lawyer sat at a table, smoking his cigar, meeting client after client, turning down no one.
You do what YOU CAN do!
3. A woman hobbled into the restaurant, a cast on one leg, but displaying signs of other medical difficulties. The police had just arrested her boyfriend for drunken driving and had impounded his truck. She was turned out on the street, with nowhere to go. The restaurant was so busy, none of the staff could give her a ride to the bus station, but she called her landlord, who lived an hour and a half away. He dropped everything, and drove right over to pick her up.
You do what YOU CAN do!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
August 24, 2008 Message
Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20
“Who”
Some questions will stop a person in their tracks.
Roy rushed down to the local supermarket to quickly pick up a few snacks before his friends arrive for the big game that was going to be on TV that afternoon.
The store was packed and as he headed for the six item express lane, the only one that didn't have a long line, a woman ignoring the overhead sign, goes ahead of him pushing a cart piled high with groceries.
Roy is quietly fuming at this unexpected delay. But the elderly cashier beckoned the woman to come forward, looked into the cart and asked ever so sweetly (and rather unexpectedly), "So Dear, which six items would you like to buy?"
Today Matthew starts with an equally unexpected question that Jesus asks of his disciples near Caesarea Philippi, a good days walk north of the Sea of Galilee. This was where the ancient Canaanites worshipped Ba’al, local spirit-deities or false gods. Then it was called Paneas, where the Greek god Pan, god of shepherds, was honored. Later Herod the Great built a temple to Caesar Augustus here, and later still, his son Philip enlarged the town and renamed it Caesarea Philippi, for his alliance with Caesar.
Some say Matthew mentions it in today’s text because he wanted to emphasize that Peter’s confession took place in a place linked to both Jewish and pagan history. It was important to Matthew that Peter calls Jesus “the Messiah” in the shadow of a Roman temple, and in a place where for centuries pagans and Jews had worshiped their gods and paid homage to all the false Messiahs that came on the scene before.
Caesarea Philippi was a risky, perhaps even a dangerous, place for Peter to call Jesus “Messiah.” It was not a kind and gentle place – a place you would want someone to hear you say something like that. We have those places in our lives today, our own Caesarea Philippis, where it’s difficult to take a Christian stand – places like:
- high school, where belonging to this group or that team is so important,
- the workplace, where what our boss or coworkers think of us makes a difference,
- politics, where getting elected has become more important than public service,
- or retirement, where it seems no one cares or what we do doesn’t really matter.
Wherever we find our Caesarea Philippi to be, it is still an anxious, risky and dangerous place where we, too, are challenged to respond to the call of Christ. Jesus says to his followers, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (v. 13). They look around nervously, not wanting to attract a lot of attention, and answer, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets” (v. 14). They figure they cannot get into trouble simply pointing out what other people are saying.
What about it folks?
“But who do you say that I am?” presses Jesus (v. 15). Jesus is asking all his followers, not just one of them, “Who am I to you?” Only one of them, Simon Peter, answers. He says, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (v. 16).
Peter declares boldly, “You are the Messiah, the one everyone is waiting for. The anointed one, who is expected to save God’s people from their oppression.” Peter’s statement is not polite church talk — it’s talk that can get you killed.
Now for us it is not as dangerous to confess that Jesus is the Messiah. But for us to do so can be radically countercultural. Because when we do, we are challenged to speak a language of faithful discipleship, as bold and surprising as the words of Peter near Caesarea Philippi that day. And in our boldness, others might know:
• generosity, in a world of self-interest.
• forgiveness, in a world of retaliation.
• compassion, in a world of harsh judgment.
• encouragement, in a world of malicious gossip.
• love and praise, in a world of relentless criticism and complaint.
In Peter’s statement, Jesus likes what he is hearing, and says, “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (v. 18). Jesus says that Peter is the foundation stone on which he will build the new Christian community. What does that mean? It means Peter is to be the foundation on which Jesus will build the Christian community, a “living stone” at a time. In his first letter, Peter writes, “Like “living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (2:5).
So Peter is the rock, the foundation — and each of us is called to be a living stone that helps build the Christian community, the church, in today’s Caesarea Philippi.
The apostle Paul says, “God is good. So offer yourselves to God. …let God change you, … then you will do everything that is good and pleasing to God.” (Rom. 12:1-2) When we respond to Jesus, “You are the Messiah” we offer ourselves to God – to be a “living stone,” specially selected and used by Jesus to build up his church. And whatever our part in the life of the church is to be, we are to do our best at living a life of Christ.
We are called to a risky and dangerous place. There is nothing comfortable or calming about walking into a place like this, where we might take a countercultural position by joining with others in the work to build up the Christian community. As United Methodist we have been called to make disciples for Jesus Christ in transforming the world. We are being challenged, along with our sisters and brothers throughout our conference and all over this country to be fruitful congregations – living stones – in building God’s kingdom.
Once again Jesus asks, “Who do you say I am?” For those of us who dare to respond, Jesus promises to back us up. That is the good news today. We are not alone in this or anything else. We have walking beside us, leading the way, a powerful Messiah, a rock-solid Christian community and we have the keys to the kingdom of heaven. With all that, things will be fine.
Q & A (c) 2008 Thom M. Shuman
when it shows up on the test
('who do you say I am?')
i quickly flip open the book
and copy out the answers . . .
for
'Son of the living God'
has become a research paper
(hopefully expanding into
a dissertation)
with experts, writing
in several languages,
quoted to support my view,
but a real Person:
calling me to follow;
willing to open my shut mind;
hoping to send me out
to confront the powers
in my corner of the world?
and
i have said
'Lord'
so many times
that i have lost count,
but the instances
i have (actually,
willingly, eagerly)
given you control of my life?
even if i include the
thumb on my counting hand,
i still have several fingers
left over . . .
so maybe i need
to close the book,
and open my self to you.
“Who”
Some questions will stop a person in their tracks.
Roy rushed down to the local supermarket to quickly pick up a few snacks before his friends arrive for the big game that was going to be on TV that afternoon.
The store was packed and as he headed for the six item express lane, the only one that didn't have a long line, a woman ignoring the overhead sign, goes ahead of him pushing a cart piled high with groceries.
Roy is quietly fuming at this unexpected delay. But the elderly cashier beckoned the woman to come forward, looked into the cart and asked ever so sweetly (and rather unexpectedly), "So Dear, which six items would you like to buy?"
Today Matthew starts with an equally unexpected question that Jesus asks of his disciples near Caesarea Philippi, a good days walk north of the Sea of Galilee. This was where the ancient Canaanites worshipped Ba’al, local spirit-deities or false gods. Then it was called Paneas, where the Greek god Pan, god of shepherds, was honored. Later Herod the Great built a temple to Caesar Augustus here, and later still, his son Philip enlarged the town and renamed it Caesarea Philippi, for his alliance with Caesar.
Some say Matthew mentions it in today’s text because he wanted to emphasize that Peter’s confession took place in a place linked to both Jewish and pagan history. It was important to Matthew that Peter calls Jesus “the Messiah” in the shadow of a Roman temple, and in a place where for centuries pagans and Jews had worshiped their gods and paid homage to all the false Messiahs that came on the scene before.
Caesarea Philippi was a risky, perhaps even a dangerous, place for Peter to call Jesus “Messiah.” It was not a kind and gentle place – a place you would want someone to hear you say something like that. We have those places in our lives today, our own Caesarea Philippis, where it’s difficult to take a Christian stand – places like:
- high school, where belonging to this group or that team is so important,
- the workplace, where what our boss or coworkers think of us makes a difference,
- politics, where getting elected has become more important than public service,
- or retirement, where it seems no one cares or what we do doesn’t really matter.
Wherever we find our Caesarea Philippi to be, it is still an anxious, risky and dangerous place where we, too, are challenged to respond to the call of Christ. Jesus says to his followers, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (v. 13). They look around nervously, not wanting to attract a lot of attention, and answer, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets” (v. 14). They figure they cannot get into trouble simply pointing out what other people are saying.
What about it folks?
“But who do you say that I am?” presses Jesus (v. 15). Jesus is asking all his followers, not just one of them, “Who am I to you?” Only one of them, Simon Peter, answers. He says, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (v. 16).
Peter declares boldly, “You are the Messiah, the one everyone is waiting for. The anointed one, who is expected to save God’s people from their oppression.” Peter’s statement is not polite church talk — it’s talk that can get you killed.
Now for us it is not as dangerous to confess that Jesus is the Messiah. But for us to do so can be radically countercultural. Because when we do, we are challenged to speak a language of faithful discipleship, as bold and surprising as the words of Peter near Caesarea Philippi that day. And in our boldness, others might know:
• generosity, in a world of self-interest.
• forgiveness, in a world of retaliation.
• compassion, in a world of harsh judgment.
• encouragement, in a world of malicious gossip.
• love and praise, in a world of relentless criticism and complaint.
In Peter’s statement, Jesus likes what he is hearing, and says, “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (v. 18). Jesus says that Peter is the foundation stone on which he will build the new Christian community. What does that mean? It means Peter is to be the foundation on which Jesus will build the Christian community, a “living stone” at a time. In his first letter, Peter writes, “Like “living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (2:5).
So Peter is the rock, the foundation — and each of us is called to be a living stone that helps build the Christian community, the church, in today’s Caesarea Philippi.
The apostle Paul says, “God is good. So offer yourselves to God. …let God change you, … then you will do everything that is good and pleasing to God.” (Rom. 12:1-2) When we respond to Jesus, “You are the Messiah” we offer ourselves to God – to be a “living stone,” specially selected and used by Jesus to build up his church. And whatever our part in the life of the church is to be, we are to do our best at living a life of Christ.
We are called to a risky and dangerous place. There is nothing comfortable or calming about walking into a place like this, where we might take a countercultural position by joining with others in the work to build up the Christian community. As United Methodist we have been called to make disciples for Jesus Christ in transforming the world. We are being challenged, along with our sisters and brothers throughout our conference and all over this country to be fruitful congregations – living stones – in building God’s kingdom.
Once again Jesus asks, “Who do you say I am?” For those of us who dare to respond, Jesus promises to back us up. That is the good news today. We are not alone in this or anything else. We have walking beside us, leading the way, a powerful Messiah, a rock-solid Christian community and we have the keys to the kingdom of heaven. With all that, things will be fine.
Q & A (c) 2008 Thom M. Shuman
when it shows up on the test
('who do you say I am?')
i quickly flip open the book
and copy out the answers . . .
for
'Son of the living God'
has become a research paper
(hopefully expanding into
a dissertation)
with experts, writing
in several languages,
quoted to support my view,
but a real Person:
calling me to follow;
willing to open my shut mind;
hoping to send me out
to confront the powers
in my corner of the world?
and
i have said
'Lord'
so many times
that i have lost count,
but the instances
i have (actually,
willingly, eagerly)
given you control of my life?
even if i include the
thumb on my counting hand,
i still have several fingers
left over . . .
so maybe i need
to close the book,
and open my self to you.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
August 17, 2008 Message
Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32
“Mercy On All”
Coming home from Pleasantville Friday night, we were listening to songs on the radio. Our daughter-in-law was changing stations, as the grandchildren took turns selecting the music they wanted to hear. Both like the ‘old songs’ and classic rock – and so most of the time their selections were really pretty good. Listening to one of the Beach Boy hits of sixties, I was transported for a moment back in time, as if nothing had changed. Once again I was riding in the car on the way home, full moon and stars overhead, listening to the Beach Boys singing about things an Iowa boy could only imagine. Music can do that. It can make things seem just like yesterday – even when yesterday was a long time ago.
Brian Wilson – one of the original Beach Boys and no doubt the genius behind the group - turned 66 this summer. That’s as old as my grandfather was when I tried to harmonize on “I Get Around” whenever it came on the radio. He wrote most of their hits – songs like "Good Vibrations", "California Girls”, and “Little Deuce Coup.” But he also wrote lesser-known songs like “Love and Mercy,” which speaks of what people need most in this world. And in that song, he writes of observing people’s loss and hurt and loneliness in places of escape (“crummy movie” theaters), withdrawal (“in my room”) and crowdedness (“standing in a bar”). And like God, who is there to see our pain and suffering, he sings,
“Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight”
We live in a world in which nothing is forever. Not the beach Boys, not Brian Wilson; not cruizin’ on a Friday night. Few things are final. We love changing our minds and second chances – that’s who we are, right? And when it comes to our stuff, there isn’t anything we can’t throw out or replace. You don’t like the food in a restaurant, just say something to the manager and they will bring you something else at no charge to make up for it. You don’t like what you type on your computer, just go to Edit menu and UNDO.
Little is permanent. Little is irrevocable or final. But there are some things: Once fired, a bullet cannot go back into the gun; once squeezed, too much toothpaste won’t go back in the tube. Once claimed by God, you are a child of God forever. It’s a done deal. God doesn’t take things back. There are no “do-overs.”
For those of you who watched Seinfeld the first time around, or have seen the reruns on cable, remember the famous cigar store wooden Indian episode? The episode plays off of the phrase “Indian giver,” where Jerry uses an un-‘politically correct’ phrase when his Native American friend wants a TV Guide back that she gave to Jerry. The idea is that when we give a gift to someone, it should be irrevocable. There shouldn’t be the chance of it being taken back. Somebody gives you something; it’s yours.
Today’s text says God is a God of certain “irrevocables” – of things not taken back.
Romans 9-11 presents several challenges to our understanding of scripture. What is Israel’s role in light of the good news of Christ? Who are the people of God — Israel, the church or both? Will there be a special salvation for Jews beyond the gospel of Christ?
In today’s text, Paul talks about two important things: God’s people are all people who would follow him, and God continually extends his mercy to more and more people. Salvation has come to the Gentiles (11) and to the question, “Has God rejected his people,” Paul responds, “By no means!” (1)
In 1957, the great theologian Karl Barth preached a sermon titled “All” based on Romans 11:32, “For God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all.” The sermon was focused on the part about God’s mercy on all of us; God says yes to us; God is on our side – no matter what. There are no ‘redos or ‘take backs.’ God has taken care of things for us once and for all in Jesus Christ.
Barth noted in his sermon that this “all” is without qualification. It doesn’t matter who you are, whether you believe in God or not, whether you’re a Christian or something else. And then he said we must all be careful of excluding anyone from the “yes” of God’s mercy. “All are prisoners, all are shown mercy.” We have all disobeyed God… so now, God can show mercy to all of us.
Barth ended by saying, “Joy is born when you renounce any attempt to be anything more than one among all “the disobedient” – giving up all attempts to climb the mountain to where God is, and letting instead God to come down to you. Joy is in realizing it’s God work and not your own
You see, God has chosen us all to be a people of mercy… and that does not change. Rains come and go. Crops boom and bust. Riches can be short-lived. But the irrevocable gift of God is here linked to one of his attributes, not merely his actions. Despite their disobedience, he still offers his people mercy. “So that he may be merciful to all” (11:32). God’s heart is a heart of love; a heart that longs for relationship over punishment; a heart that puts more stock in the future than in the past.
And neither does our having been chosen to be a people of mission. Genesis 12 records the choice of Israel as God’s people: “I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing ... in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed (12:2,3).” Blessed to be a blessing, to be family for the ‘not-yet’ family, to be God’s people to extend God’s people. Israel was to be a people with a mission, as were the early Christians, as are we today.
God doesn’t play favorites, but he does favor people — all people! And his plan to favor all people is what our life is to be about. That mission remains. It has not been taken back, from the Jews or the early church. Paul reminds us God not only desires our fellowship, but wants us to be in mission as well. It’s part of our DNA and part of God’s plan for us.
Today’s text is about God. It always is. The gifts of GOD are irrevocable. The calling of GOD is irrevocable. (11:29). We are a people of mercy and then, mission. Pastor Dennis J. Meaker perhaps put it best when he wrote that what we learn here is that “God does not give up on his commitments simply because they do not seem to be working out as planned.”
That IS good news for all of us.
God is God, who responds to our disobedience in perfect harmony:
“Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight”
“Mercy On All”
Coming home from Pleasantville Friday night, we were listening to songs on the radio. Our daughter-in-law was changing stations, as the grandchildren took turns selecting the music they wanted to hear. Both like the ‘old songs’ and classic rock – and so most of the time their selections were really pretty good. Listening to one of the Beach Boy hits of sixties, I was transported for a moment back in time, as if nothing had changed. Once again I was riding in the car on the way home, full moon and stars overhead, listening to the Beach Boys singing about things an Iowa boy could only imagine. Music can do that. It can make things seem just like yesterday – even when yesterday was a long time ago.
Brian Wilson – one of the original Beach Boys and no doubt the genius behind the group - turned 66 this summer. That’s as old as my grandfather was when I tried to harmonize on “I Get Around” whenever it came on the radio. He wrote most of their hits – songs like "Good Vibrations", "California Girls”, and “Little Deuce Coup.” But he also wrote lesser-known songs like “Love and Mercy,” which speaks of what people need most in this world. And in that song, he writes of observing people’s loss and hurt and loneliness in places of escape (“crummy movie” theaters), withdrawal (“in my room”) and crowdedness (“standing in a bar”). And like God, who is there to see our pain and suffering, he sings,
“Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight”
We live in a world in which nothing is forever. Not the beach Boys, not Brian Wilson; not cruizin’ on a Friday night. Few things are final. We love changing our minds and second chances – that’s who we are, right? And when it comes to our stuff, there isn’t anything we can’t throw out or replace. You don’t like the food in a restaurant, just say something to the manager and they will bring you something else at no charge to make up for it. You don’t like what you type on your computer, just go to Edit menu and UNDO.
Little is permanent. Little is irrevocable or final. But there are some things: Once fired, a bullet cannot go back into the gun; once squeezed, too much toothpaste won’t go back in the tube. Once claimed by God, you are a child of God forever. It’s a done deal. God doesn’t take things back. There are no “do-overs.”
For those of you who watched Seinfeld the first time around, or have seen the reruns on cable, remember the famous cigar store wooden Indian episode? The episode plays off of the phrase “Indian giver,” where Jerry uses an un-‘politically correct’ phrase when his Native American friend wants a TV Guide back that she gave to Jerry. The idea is that when we give a gift to someone, it should be irrevocable. There shouldn’t be the chance of it being taken back. Somebody gives you something; it’s yours.
Today’s text says God is a God of certain “irrevocables” – of things not taken back.
Romans 9-11 presents several challenges to our understanding of scripture. What is Israel’s role in light of the good news of Christ? Who are the people of God — Israel, the church or both? Will there be a special salvation for Jews beyond the gospel of Christ?
In today’s text, Paul talks about two important things: God’s people are all people who would follow him, and God continually extends his mercy to more and more people. Salvation has come to the Gentiles (11) and to the question, “Has God rejected his people,” Paul responds, “By no means!” (1)
In 1957, the great theologian Karl Barth preached a sermon titled “All” based on Romans 11:32, “For God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all.” The sermon was focused on the part about God’s mercy on all of us; God says yes to us; God is on our side – no matter what. There are no ‘redos or ‘take backs.’ God has taken care of things for us once and for all in Jesus Christ.
Barth noted in his sermon that this “all” is without qualification. It doesn’t matter who you are, whether you believe in God or not, whether you’re a Christian or something else. And then he said we must all be careful of excluding anyone from the “yes” of God’s mercy. “All are prisoners, all are shown mercy.” We have all disobeyed God… so now, God can show mercy to all of us.
Barth ended by saying, “Joy is born when you renounce any attempt to be anything more than one among all “the disobedient” – giving up all attempts to climb the mountain to where God is, and letting instead God to come down to you. Joy is in realizing it’s God work and not your own
You see, God has chosen us all to be a people of mercy… and that does not change. Rains come and go. Crops boom and bust. Riches can be short-lived. But the irrevocable gift of God is here linked to one of his attributes, not merely his actions. Despite their disobedience, he still offers his people mercy. “So that he may be merciful to all” (11:32). God’s heart is a heart of love; a heart that longs for relationship over punishment; a heart that puts more stock in the future than in the past.
And neither does our having been chosen to be a people of mission. Genesis 12 records the choice of Israel as God’s people: “I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing ... in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed (12:2,3).” Blessed to be a blessing, to be family for the ‘not-yet’ family, to be God’s people to extend God’s people. Israel was to be a people with a mission, as were the early Christians, as are we today.
God doesn’t play favorites, but he does favor people — all people! And his plan to favor all people is what our life is to be about. That mission remains. It has not been taken back, from the Jews or the early church. Paul reminds us God not only desires our fellowship, but wants us to be in mission as well. It’s part of our DNA and part of God’s plan for us.
Today’s text is about God. It always is. The gifts of GOD are irrevocable. The calling of GOD is irrevocable. (11:29). We are a people of mercy and then, mission. Pastor Dennis J. Meaker perhaps put it best when he wrote that what we learn here is that “God does not give up on his commitments simply because they do not seem to be working out as planned.”
That IS good news for all of us.
God is God, who responds to our disobedience in perfect harmony:
“Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight”
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