May 28, 2006: How Do We Know He's Not Lying?
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; 1 John 5:9-13; Psalm 1
Eileen Parfrey     Springwater Presbyterian Church

 

I only know a few jokes, so when I start telling them, Rick cringes, because he has heard both of them close to a thousand times. But here goes. It's the joke about a man who wants a Christian dog. He finally finds a breeder who can sell him one, so he brings it home to his wife, who narrows her eyes and asks, "How do I know he's a Christian Dog?" That's where this joke is perfect for our scripture texts today. "How do I know?" OK, OK, so the punch line is the man putting the dog through his Christian paces for his wife-finding a Bible and accurately turning to a couple different scriptures. The wife is duly impressed but asks what else the dog can do. So the man has the dog sit, roll over, and then heal. [lay hands on front row person-not "heel"]

Some of today's texts might cause us to narrow our eyes, asking pointedly, "How do we know. . .?" In case you didn't catch the reader board coming in, the sermon title is, "How Do We Know He's Not Lying?" It's an edgy title, because "he" refers to God. As if we have the unmitigated gall ask, "How do I know. . .?" about God. The writer of 1 John even brings it up, saying we accuse God of being a liar when we don't receive the forgiveness offered us through Jesus Christ. Now, don't jump too quickly to say that you don't do that, because even two of Jesus' closest friends had trouble with that. The difference between Judas' betrayal and Peter's betrayal wasn't that one sin was forgivable and the other wasn't. The difference was how they received Jesus' forgiveness for their betrayal. Peter betrayed Jesus three times, even after he'd been warned. Judas only betrayed Jesus once, but Peter is part of the gathered disciples in today's Acts text and Judas isn't. Our passage from Acts today skips over Judas' rather gruesome suicide out of remorse for his deed. The post-resurrection shore breakfast in John, where Peter and Jesus meet, is a tale of forgiveness extended and received. Jesus doesn't ask Peter, "Now aren't you sorry?" or admonish him to never do that again. Jesus asks Peter if he loves him, then gives him a job.

It's true that the recently-published Gospel of Judas says Judas was doing Jesus a favor by turning him over to the authorities for crucifixion. As if Judas fulfilled Jesus' will to be a "victim" for sacrifice, not a volunteer. But Judas is gone in Acts, and the fledging believers this band thinks they have to fill out their committee structure, bring the leadership numbers up to twelve, and so they opt for the sacred casting of lots to make things clear.

That's how my sister and her husband chose which church to attend when they got married. His or hers? Lutheran or Baptist? They tossed a quarter. It came up tails, so they're Lutheran. The choice of Matthias as the twelfth apostle was a sacred act, carried out in the context of prayerful discernment. Is twelve a magic number that they needed another apostle? For years, Springwater has functioned as if nine is a magic number. Did we have it wrong? Should we have twelve elders? And if nine is magic, are we out of compliance with God's plan for leadership by only having seven elders this year? The current session apparently doesn't think nine elders/nine committees is the only way to be Springwater, because they have reorganized into three ministry clusters. There are still some bumps in learning how to integrate our ministry, but we continue on as if it is possible to engage in God's mission in this time and place, even with the current "limitation" of a ministry cluster structure.

The scholarly explanation of paralleling 12 apostles with the twelve tribes of Israel doesn't quite do it for me. Maybe the issue was numerology, maybe it was sentimentality on their part, but I don't think the apostles were as concerned about twelve committees/twelve apostles as they were to have someone who companied with Jesus in the inner circle of prayers and deciders. They needed someone for whom Jesus was more than a story, for whom Jesus was a living reality, someone who had experienced Jesus. That's the concern of the church today in choosing leaders. When we elect elders, we choose someone who has a genuine relationship with Christ, someone who can promise with integrity to serve us with imagination, creativity and love. Because Jesus isn't just a story to them, isn't just facts, but a living experience in their own here-and-now lives.

Well, so what? Maybe you have no intention of ever being an elder. Or maybe you've already served as an elder and you're done with that. So what? Who cares what leaders are supposed to do? You're more interested in keeping your pew cushion warm and balancing the obligations of the rest of your life. That's the difference between Judas and Peter. Accepting or rejecting.

Oh, Eileen, that's harsh. OK, but think of it like medicine. You look at that pill and think, "This is so tiny. What difference does it make? Why do I even bother?" Maybe it is small, but if it doesn't make a difference, why do you feel lousy when you don't take it? Or that little secret thing you do-who's gonna know? But if praying in secret makes a difference, why wouldn't cheating in secret make a difference?

I think it does make a difference that we act as if what our leaders do and who they are is important. We say that God provides gifts for leadership, and that must mean that our ministry becomes the gifts that are available, the gifts that are used. My former pastor's working philosophy was, "If we don't have volunteers for a program, if people can't commit to participate, we stop doing it."

A couple weeks ago when we brainstormed during the sermon about concrete ways of helping each other grow in our faith, I discovered another entry written on the chart after the service. It simply said, "Turn ideas into action." That about sums up Springwater. If we have any flaw-and that's a hard concession to make, I know-it would be that we have far more ideas than time or commitment to implement. But "Turn ideas into action." Leadership. Deciding what action to take, what not to take.

Which brings me to our Mission Statement. Since Easter, I've been fluffing out sermon texts by drawing parallels to our new Mission Statement. Today's parallel is, "To gather in loving community to worship and celebrate God's love." Sacred casting of lots and suggesting God is a liar? It's the context in which the lots are cast. Jesus' disciples are gathered with a purpose-just as I hope we are on Sundays. Their gathering is focused on something other than themselves, deeply anticipating that God does speak, does call them to action. They aren't just waiting for something to happen. They are in active, prayerful discernment, trusting that God acts through community, confident that they are being equipped. They are intentional about leadership transition, faith nurture, and discernment. Everything they are doing is aimed at getting ready for action, to turn God's ideas into action.

We pray, "Let us know your will," and it sounds so pious, but I think we already know God's will. We know to be intentional about equipping ourselves for action. We know we are called to reach out. We know that, as disciples, we are called to nurture each other. We proved what we already know when we brainstormed concrete ideas a couple of weeks ago. I'm preaching on your ideas this summer. We know what to do. Now it's time to act.

It is how we know God is not lying. We receive forgiveness when we experience it, and we experience it when we (like Peter) love Jesus and act. When we do our job. When we do what our new Mission Statement claims as our intention-to follow the model from Acts. To gather (in worship), to be (in relationship to God, each other), to witness (by word, action), to serve. This is "how to be the church."

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