“Prophetic Grace”
Luke 4:21-30
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
1/24/16
A while back, I
sat with a group of pastors discussing challenges facing the church in our
ever-changing world. One of them, feeling threatened by new realities, said
something that was meant, I am sure, to express a determined faith, but to me
it sounded a bit angry.
The world may be changing, he said, but Jesus is still the only way to heaven.
And if that’s not the case, we’re all wasting our time.
A quiet wave of nods and “Amens”
circled the room. While appreciating the commitment, I felt like I was watching
my friends standing with their toes on the rim of a high cliff, peering down at
rocks below, and leaning into a strong wind pushing at their backs.
Surely the
Nazarenes feel the same way when Jesus reminds them of God’s gracious
initiative toward the starving widow at Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian leper.
Remember, ancient Jews attribute things like famine and illness to God’s judgment.
And for them, deliverance from such things comes only through Torah-prescribed rituals of atonement. They are
certain that God aligns exclusively with Jewish experiences of God, images of
God, and language about God.
Not
so fast, says Jesus. When even Jews
were starving, and when even Jews suffered from leprosy, through the likes of
Elijah and Elisha, God reaches out to Gentiles first.
And the flood
gates of rage burst open. ‘How dare
Jesus presume to revise a thousand years of religious tradition!’
Their vision blurred by wolfish fury,
the worshipers drive the shepherd up a hill. They intend to hurl him off and
kill him. Then, standing with their toes on the rim of a high cliff, peering
down at rocks below, and leaning into a strong wind pushing at their backs, the
crowd seems to freeze. Their rage blinds them, and Jesus slips away.
Luke foreshadows this moment. In the
third temptation, Satan dares Jesus to make a dramatic statement. ‘Jump from
the top of the temple. Land on your feet, and no one will be able to do
anything but believe.’
Jump,
says Satan, and faith will be obsolete. You’ll give the people proof,
he says. And proof is the only way to salvation. Without proof,
Jesus, you’ll just be wasting your time.
I have to think that Jesus feels
his own creeping rage. Standing with his toes on the rim of a high cliff,
peering down at rocks below, and leaning into a strong wind pushing at his
back, he is sorely tempted to jump – to escape the demands of grace. How dare
God call him to such inhuman holiness! I would feel the same way. Would you?
It seems to me
that the Church has often presented itself more like the congregation in
Nazareth than it has Jesus at his temptation. The prospect of living by faith
in the extravagant grace of God challenges us beyond the limits of reason. Trying
to accept and to be in relationship with a God who loves the people we cannot
accept and cannot relate to just as much as God loves us – that can send us
raging toward the cliff.
If my understanding of grace doesn’t
preclude all others, my friend was saying, then I’m wasting my time.
If God’s
kingdom is not something open to all humankind through the scandalously
undomesticated grace of God, and if as Christians we do not share what we see,
hear, taste, feel, and smell of God’s here-and-now kingdom as we witness it in Jesus’
unconstrained Love for Jew and Gentile alike, then maybe we are wasting our time. We are hindering grace, anyway.
“Your image of
God creates you,” says Richard Rohr. “One mistaken image of God that keeps us
from receiving [and sharing] grace
is the idea that God is a cruel tyrant. People who have been raised in an
atmosphere of threats of punishment and promises of reward are programmed to
operate with this cheap image of God…Unfortunately,” says Rohr, “it's much
easier to organize people around fear and hatred than around love…[and viewing]
God as vindictive…validates their use of intimidation.”1
God’s prophets
challenge us with some deeply unnerving demands – demands that cannot be
satisfied with mere consent to theological formulas. God’s prophets challenge
us to live a new and different life in relationship with our neighbors and with
the earth. For us, this new life is
shaped by the image of God made incarnate in an infuriatingly gracious,
first-century rabbi from Nazareth.
Extending
grace as generously as Jesus, though – that prospect overwhelms us.
There was a
family in my first congregation – to share details would be one-sided, so
suffice it to say that I felt pushed to one cliff after another by them.
“Don’t worry,” whispered other
members, “they’ve never liked any
minister.”
That didn’t help.
When the congregation nominated to
a second term on session, the matriarch who seemed to want to use me as a
lighting rod, I cobbled together a PIF and went job hunting.
“I’m so excited that God called me
to Shelby,” I told my new
congregation. I said that, but hindsight tells me it was a
convenient lie.
First, I am
convinced that God was not through with me in Mebane. I had more to offer and
more to learn from those mostly wonderful people. My family wasn’t ready to
move, either. I handled some aspects of leaving extremely poorly. Overall, I failed
to be grateful and gracious.
Second, I really don’t believe that
God called me to Shelby Presbyterian.
It was never the best match for me. I simply landed there when, in a willful
act of prideful cowardice, I jumped off a cliff.
That’s where grace took over.
The first act of grace was to
discover folks every bit as difficult as that family back in Mebane. There are
Nazarenes in any congregation; and a lively one in myself, as well.
Accept
it, said God. You’ll never really
receive or share grace until you do.
The nudges of grace kept coming, as
did the challenges of being in a place that never felt right. Some things I did
not intend or want to do became my focus in Shelby. And that led me to some
fresh discoveries. And that was good, too.
Leaving intimidation to others, God
uses grace in the most opportunistic ways. When we listen and respond in Love
for the sake of others, God does, I think, call and send us to particular
places.
Jonesborough comes to mind.
When in selfishness and fear, we
jump, God uses us where we land – blesses us and makes us a blessing to others
Always with us and for us, God’s
grace knows no bounds.
And it never wastes our time.
No comments:
Post a Comment