Deceiving appearances
Commentary
The old proverb says appearances can be deceiving. And there is much truth in those words. What appears to be may not be what really is. Too many of us have been deceived by something new and shiny that turned out to be nothing but junk. A lovely cover does not guarantee a good book. However, it also works the other way as well.
In the movie by the same name, Simon Birch is a tiny boy not even three feet tall. Simon was born tiny and malformed. He still walks with a limp. To the eye, he is a pitiful case, so distorted that even his pastor slips and implies that he is less than human. Yet in Simon's case appearances are deceiving, for he is a remarkable child. He is incredibly intelligent and boldly outspoken. Moreover, he stubbornly maintains that he is destined for some heroic task, although you are tempted to think that he is trying to compensate for his special condition. As the story unfolds, however, Simon proves himself to be more than what appears. He faithfully serves on the Pee-Wee league baseball team, even though when allowed to bat the coach insists that he not try to hit the ball. He is so small that the pitchers cannot avoid walking him. Finally, however, he is allowed to swing away, and he hits a home run. In the movie's climax, he fulfills his heroic destiny by saving a busload of children from drowning. The movie seems intent on proving that packaging does not determine identity.
In some fashion, each of the lessons for this Ash Wednesday does the same thing. Each seems to demonstrate that appearances can be deceiving, and in some cases should be! This preparatory day of Lent invites us to ask how it is that appearances are deceiving. In doing so, we may uncover something intrinsic to Ash Wednesday.
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
What matters is behind appearances.
This is not an easy passage to preach, especially since it seems to emphasize the gloomy dimension of Ash Wednesday. It is impossible to set the book of Joel in a historical context, and we know absolutely nothing about the prophet Joel. What is clear is that the prophet speaks of a crisis brought on by a locust plague (see chapter 1), the dreadful punishment of God on a sinful people, and the possibilities of repentance.
The reading is comprised of two fragments of chapter 2. As a whole, the chapter runs all the way from the announcement of a terrible "day of the Lord" to God's saving the nation and bringing abundance and prosperity. The lesson patches together the opening announcement of the impending appearance of the day of darkness and judgment (vv. 1-2) and the invitation to the people to return to God before it is too late (vv. 12-17).
The initial announcement sounds like a page taken from Amos (especially, 5:18-20). "The day of the Lord" is a time of darkness and dread, not of victory and exaltation. The concept of the day of the Lord probably originated on the battlefield and was used of the occasions on which Yahweh defeated Israel's enemy. The prophets, however, turned the concept around and against Israel. They spoke of it as that decisive time in history when God's justice is done in the world, including the punishment of the chosen people. The passage pictures the imminence of divine justice with vivid expressions, such as "thick darkness" -- a darkness no light can penetrate. The event involves the coming of a mighty and fearsome army unlike any ever experienced. The verses that stand between the two portions of the lesson (3-11) describe that army in some detail and heighten the terror of the frightful day. In verse 11 we are told that this military force is none other than God's own army that comes to execute the divine justice.
With that vivid and terrifying announcement ringing in our ears, the second part of the reading reverses the tone of the first eleven verses and the inevitability implicit in them. God invites the people to return to their Lord. "Return" (the Hebrew concept of repentance) is a turning around, a coming back to the covenant.
How shall we return (v. 12)? The answer is in the usual expression of mourning -- fasting and weeping. However, the inward act of tearing the heart should replace the outward act of tearing clothing. We return by internalizing the sorrow over our unfaithfulness.
Why should we return (v. 13)? Because God does not really desire the punishment of the nation. God is gracious and remains faithful to the covenant (chesed -- "steadfast love") established with the people. Yahweh is reluctant to punish and seeks our return.
What might our returning accomplish (v. 14)? Our actions cannot manipulate the Almighty; there is no guarantee that we can avoid getting exactly what we deserve. However, who knows? God may reverse the plan and bring blessing (that is, physical prosperity -- see vv. 19-27) rather than destruction. Then and because of God's restoring the riches of the land, the people can once again make their grain and drink offerings to God.
What then shall we do? The tone changes again in verse 15, where the words of the announcement of the coming of the day of the Lord in verse 1 are used to call the people to assemble. While Joel sounds like Amos in his depiction of the day of the Lord, he seems almost the opposite of Amos in the importance he attaches to worship (see Amos 5:21-24). The people are to set themselves apart ("sanctify") for worship. This assembly includes everyone -- the aged, the children, infants, and even the newlyweds. When they are all gathered, the priests are then to make intercessions on behalf of the people (v.16). Their prayers should ask for God's pity, appeal to the covenant relationship God has with the people, and remind God that the divine's reputation is tied up with what becomes of the chosen people. The remainder of chapter 2 describes how God will respond favorably to the people's repentance.
At the center of this reading stands the words of verse 13: "rend your hearts and not your clothing." Like a floodlight, they illumine the entire passage. Joel expects the people to show outward signs of their returning to Yahweh (fasting and weeping), and he calls on them to gather for worship. However, all of that does not matter if the people's hearts are not torn in two with both regret for the past and hope in God's mercy. Appearance may deceive. Returning to God can be only a facade, unless, of course, something fundamental is changed deep in the lives of the nation. The ashes of Ash Wednesday mean something only if we rend our hearts, are fully committed to change, and willing to throw ourselves on the mercy of God.
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
The opposite of appearance may be true.
The second lesson connects with the first reading in at least two ways. First, Paul insists that the present is a crucial time ("See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation" -- v. 2b) much as Joel announced that the day of the Lord was near. Second, Joel appeals for a change of heart, an inner transformation, and Paul suggests that there is an opposition between appearances and reality (vv. 8-10).
We are once again embroiled in Paul's struggle to vindicate himself in the eyes of those contentious Corinthians. He appeals to the courage he and his colleagues have exhibited and their conviction that the appearances of outward destruction deceives, because it hides the future hope. Then he turns the discussion toward the possibilities of reconciliation with his opponents in the Corinthian church (4:16--5:20). Throughout this discussion, the "we" refers to Paul and his missionary companions.
Since in Christ God has reconciled the relationship between humans and their Creator, we ourselves become reconcilers. Implicit in Paul's argument here is that the Corinthian Christians have been reconciled with God and therefore should reconcile with Paul and his companions. If God reconciles us with God's self, then by implication we become reconcilers among humans. The gospel indicative (we are reconciled) issues into an imperative (be reconciled). Paul claims that by being the recipients of God's righteousness (making us right with God), Christians become the embodiment of that divine righteousness -- "so that in him (Christ) we might become the righteousness of God." Throughout 5:20-21, Paul argues that what God does for us becomes personified in what we do for others.
In 6:1 Paul's argument goes in a different direction. His appeal to the Corinthians now takes the form of the appeal to recognize the crucial time of salvation (much as Joel's announcement of the day of the Lord does). To refuse the offer of reconciliation is tantamount to accepting "the grace of God in vain." God's grace is then "without effect," as one commentator puts it. Paul seems to suggest that embodying God's grace is part of accepting it. Even one's salvation is at stake in this embodiment.
Paul claims that this moment is the time of salvation. Therefore the decision to accept Paul and his traveling companions is a decision for salvation. Notice the repetition of "now." For Isaiah (49:8) the moment when God helps the people of Israel is the moment of their salvation. What does Paul mean, however, by "acceptable time"? Apparently only that it is the time of God's choosing and hence a time God favors. (See Luke 4:19 in which it is the year that is acceptable.)
The appeal is strengthened through what Paul now claims for his circle of missionaries (6:3-10). He declares that their ministries are without "fault" and are not a hindrance to faith in any way. Rather their behavior has always been positive; that is, it has enhanced the offer of salvation ("commended"). Then he defends this declaration by offering three lists. First, in verses 4b-5 he lists nine hardships he and his team have suffered. That list is followed by another, this time of nine virtues (vv. 6-8a). Each is introduced by the word "in" to suggest that both these hardships and virtues forms the context of their ministry. They were in real life situations. All of this is to appeal to the readers to see the radical commitment of the missionaries and their unquestionable character in the face of hardship.
The reading concludes with a third list, this time of contrasting terms (vv. 8b-10). In this case, Paul lists seven opposites (or antitheses) each introduced with "as" and each pair connected with the word "yet." The world perceives the Christian missionaries as imposters, unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, poor, and having nothing. In fact, however, they are true, well known, alive, not killed, always rejoicing, making many rich, and possessing everything. Paul hopes that the Corinthians can see beyond the appearances to what the missionaries really are. In verses 11-13 Paul concludes this defense of his ministry.
The opposite of appearance may be true. What we think we see may be exactly the opposite of what is actually real. Appearances are deceptive when it comes to judging the character of another. What we see may not be the deeper reality.
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
The most important things may be secret.
Jesus' sermon on the mount in Matthew is a collection of teachings which loosely hang together around the topic of discipleship. We might read the sermon as a kind of manual for those who follow Jesus. The assigned passage begins with what might be deemed the fourth part of the sermon. We assume that 5:1-12 -- the beatitudes -- constitutes the first part; the metaphors of light and salt the second -- 5:13-16; and the third part is 5:17-18, which includes Jesus' discussion of the law, along with the antitheses. Chapter 6 begins a series of teachings on piety which continues through verse 18. Verses 19-21 comprise the first of a group of sayings about the character of a disciple.
The descriptions of certain religious practices in verses 1-18 are structured along several oppositions. The first is the behavior of the Christian and that of the hypocrite (literally, the "play-actor") and the Gentiles. The second opposition is receiving reward and being denied reward. The third opposition is between public and private behavior. The entire section is introduced with the opposition between public and private behavior and a warning about practicing piety in public in order to be seen by others. A title for this section might be "inconspicuous piety." Three practices are discussed: almsgiving (vv. 2-4), prayer (vv. 5-15), and fasting (vv. 16-18).
Almsgiving accompanied by fanfare and ostentatiousness has its reward already in what others think of you. Therefore, God does not reward it. In contrast, God rewards "in secret" giving that is done "in secret." In this case, the giving is so secret that the givers themselves hardly know what they are doing. One hand is unaware of what the other hand is doing.
The same is true of prayer. In this case, prayer is done in secret and rewarded in secret but is also addressed to a God who is "in secret." The contrast of the street corner and the closet is vivid. It is not the place of prayer, however, that is important but the motive and purpose for praying. The phrase, "your Father who is in secret," is a puzzle. Is God secret? Does this expression refer to what has been called the "hiddenness of God"? Or, does it mean that God meets us in the private times of our lives? (The "Our Father" is taught in verses 7-15 as a model prayer.)
What is said about almsgiving and prayer applies also to fasting, and the pattern established in the earlier verses is repeated in verses 16-18. Verse 17 seems to advocate a kind of "disguised" fasting. Anointing oneself with oil and washing the face were daily practices and part of standard hygiene. So, in effect, Jesus is saying, when you fast, act as you would act everyday and appear no different than you would normally appear. However, this anointing and washing is a private acknowledgment of your fasting. It is the "secret" nature of the prayer closet mentioned earlier. In summary, in these teachings Jesus seems to be urging us to avoid practicing our faith for the recognition it brings from others and to be sure we are doing it for and in the presence of God. The motives for these practices is what is at stake here.
Verses 19-21 introduce the next unit of the sermon. They push us even deeper into our motives for religious practices, and we find ourselves asking what it is we want to "store up" in this life. First, Jesus opposes two values for life. In the first, we accumulate that which is vulnerable to time and thief. In the second, we gather that which has lasting value and is not vulnerable to anything. The "moth" was a common symbol of destruction in the ancient world. The translation "rust" is a concession to the modern ear, and the Greek word means gobbling up or gulping. It may have referred to another destructive insect. Verse 21 sounds like a simple wisdom saying (for example, see Proverbs 23:4), but in this context it surely has to do with the merits of the kind of almsgiving, prayer, and fasting described in the previous verses. You yourself are what you value in life. What you value and seek in life determines your nature. Unlike the old saying, "You are what you eat," Jesus says, "You are what you save up (or value)."
Therefore, the most important things may be secret, not public, not discernible. None of this should be taken to demean the public side of Christian life and community. Rather it presses us down to what is most essential for us, and that is why verses 16-18 are such an appropriate conclusion to this lesson. We apply this distinction between private and public behavior to ourselves, and that leads us to our need to cultivate the important things in life. But we also should read this lesson with an eye on our attitude toward others. Appearances are deceiving, so we have no business trying to draw conclusions about other people entirely in terms of impressions. Jesus, of course, gets around to this very point later in the sermon (7:1-5). What matters is what we are storing up and where.
There is something deceiving too about Ash Wednesday. The ashes imposed on this special day are deceiving in their appearance. Black smudges on our foreheads. The powdery remains of the burned palms leaves saved from Palm Sunday. The marking of our foreheads with a dirty cross. Yet these ashes are in reality secretly something far more. While indicating our frail mortality, they represent God's promise to preserve us against the consequences of both our humanity and our sinfulness. The ashes of this Wednesday are tokens of our willingness to admit our sin and brokenness, of the possibilities of repentance, and of the futures that God opens to us when we turn around to face our Savior. They are in effect our hope of being something more than meets the eye and proves that appearances can be deceiving.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
The lectionary for this day is apparently incapable of pointing to any other text in the Old Testament to use to call for the repentance we are supposed to have on Ash Wednesday. These verses from Joel form the stated Old Testament lesson for both Cycles C and A, as well as for Cycle B today. The preacher may therefore wish to refer to the expositions previously published in those cycles. But of course, there is always something more to be said in relation to any biblical text, and I shall try to add on to what has previously been pointed out.
The prophecies of Joel, delivered in the post-exilic time between 500 and 350 B.C., are cosmic in their sweep. The struggling community of Judah has experienced an overwhelming plague of locusts that have eaten everything, followed by a severe drought that has ruined any vegetation sprouting up after the locust plague. But Joel's message is, in popular words, "You ain't seen nothin' yet." The locusts and the drought have been mere harbingers of greater destruction to come, for that which faces Judah -- and indeed us -- is the final Day of the Lord, when God will come to bring human history to an end, destroying his enemies in whatever nation, and setting up his kingdom over all the earth. "The day of the Lord is coming, it is near," says our text, and it is "a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness" (2:1-2). Our sins, our unfaithfulness to the Lord, will testify against us in that day, and the question that confronts us is, "Who can endure it?" (v. 11). Certainly not Judah, certainly not you, certainly not me, for "we like sheep have gone astray" (Isaiah 53:6). We have gone far from our divine Shepherd.
That particular confession of our sin still can be found on the lips of devout Christians in our time, but for most modern Americans, it is an alien thought. For you see, in our present culture, there really is no such thing as sin, and the reason for that is twofold. First of all, in order to have a concept of sinfulness, we must have an absolute concept of right and wrong. But our modern society no longer believes in absolutes. No. Everything is relative these days. You have your opinions and definitions of what is right, and I have mine. And my definitions may be entirely different from yours. In fact, I know what is right for me, but it may not be right for you. And you know what is wrong for me to do, but I may not think it is wrong at all. Everything is relative. Everything depends on individual viewpoints and experiences, and there is no general definition of right and wrong that can be applied to everybody. There is no absolute, and if we try to define one, the retort is, "Don't impose your middle-class morality on me! I know what is good for me! So stop preaching to me!"
Second, everything is relative in our society's views of ethical living, because there is no understanding of who God is. Dostoyevsky once wrote that "if there is no God, anything is permissible," and that's pretty well the way it is in America today, isn't it? God is anything that any one individual dreams up or imagines in our time. Each person conjures up his or her own deity, depending on personal desires and background. And the realization that there really is a Lord of heaven and earth, whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts, is far from most people's religious understanding.
Our prophet Joel, however, knows that there is a Lord who rules over our lives and earth. He knows that the Lord has revealed himself through 800 years of history in the lives of his people Israel. He knows that God has asked of that people, as he asks of us, love in return for his love and care, mercy toward our neighbors as God is merciful, and trust in that Lord to show us the paths of right and wrong and to guide and support us all our days. Similarly, the whole New Testament witnesses to the full revelation in the Spirit of that God and Father in his Son Jesus Christ. And it knows that Christ has given us commandments about the way we should walk. And it is very clear that when we do not walk in the Lord's ways -- when we wander astray like sheep, far from our divine Shepherd -- then we have done wrong and sinned, breaking the relationship that we have had with our God from the time of our birth. Yes, there is right and wrong in the eyes of our Lord, good Christians. And Joel tells us that because we have been unfaithful, we are in danger of being the enemies of God whom he will destroy in the Day of the Lord.
"And yet" -- and yet -- reads our text, there is a way we can stand in that Day of "darkness and gloom." There is a way we can "endure" the final judgment and be reunited with our Lord once more, and become the recipients of his abundant and eternal life. We can repent of our wrong. That is what the prophecy of Joel tells us. We can repent. And that means we can turn around and walk once again toward our Shepherd and not away from him, because God holds the door open to us, you see. Even in the time of Joel he held open the door for Judah's return to him. For the Lord "is gracious and merciful," Joel proclaimed. He is "slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (v. 13), and he will indeed receive any repentant sinner who turns to him for mercy. Do we not know that? Did Jesus not tell us that the good Shepherd not only holds open the door for our return, but goes out seaching for all us wanderers? And when he finds us, he rejoices with exceeding joy, because "there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance" (Luke 15:6-7). On this Ash Wednesday, the door is open, the way is cleared for us to return to our heavenly Father. "Even now," "yet even now," agrees Joel. We can return.
It has to be a heartfelt repentance that results in different and more faithful lives, however. "Rend your hearts," says Joel (v. 13). "Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit," agrees Ezekiel. "Why will you die, O house of Israel?" (Ezekiel 18:31). Why will you fail, O house of Judah? Why will you be unable to stand in the day of judgment, the Day of the Lord, O church of Christ? Turn and live.
Well, it is not easy to repent and turn, is it? It is almost impossible for us to amend our own lives. But the Lord Christ has never deserted us, and he does not desert us now. Right now, by his promise, he is in our midst, working in our hearts. And when we surrender our lives to him, he floods our hearts with his merciful Spirit and gives us power to be faithful and to do his will that is right. So, in repentance, good Christians, on this Ash Wednesday, let us turn over our forgiven lives to him.
In the movie by the same name, Simon Birch is a tiny boy not even three feet tall. Simon was born tiny and malformed. He still walks with a limp. To the eye, he is a pitiful case, so distorted that even his pastor slips and implies that he is less than human. Yet in Simon's case appearances are deceiving, for he is a remarkable child. He is incredibly intelligent and boldly outspoken. Moreover, he stubbornly maintains that he is destined for some heroic task, although you are tempted to think that he is trying to compensate for his special condition. As the story unfolds, however, Simon proves himself to be more than what appears. He faithfully serves on the Pee-Wee league baseball team, even though when allowed to bat the coach insists that he not try to hit the ball. He is so small that the pitchers cannot avoid walking him. Finally, however, he is allowed to swing away, and he hits a home run. In the movie's climax, he fulfills his heroic destiny by saving a busload of children from drowning. The movie seems intent on proving that packaging does not determine identity.
In some fashion, each of the lessons for this Ash Wednesday does the same thing. Each seems to demonstrate that appearances can be deceiving, and in some cases should be! This preparatory day of Lent invites us to ask how it is that appearances are deceiving. In doing so, we may uncover something intrinsic to Ash Wednesday.
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
What matters is behind appearances.
This is not an easy passage to preach, especially since it seems to emphasize the gloomy dimension of Ash Wednesday. It is impossible to set the book of Joel in a historical context, and we know absolutely nothing about the prophet Joel. What is clear is that the prophet speaks of a crisis brought on by a locust plague (see chapter 1), the dreadful punishment of God on a sinful people, and the possibilities of repentance.
The reading is comprised of two fragments of chapter 2. As a whole, the chapter runs all the way from the announcement of a terrible "day of the Lord" to God's saving the nation and bringing abundance and prosperity. The lesson patches together the opening announcement of the impending appearance of the day of darkness and judgment (vv. 1-2) and the invitation to the people to return to God before it is too late (vv. 12-17).
The initial announcement sounds like a page taken from Amos (especially, 5:18-20). "The day of the Lord" is a time of darkness and dread, not of victory and exaltation. The concept of the day of the Lord probably originated on the battlefield and was used of the occasions on which Yahweh defeated Israel's enemy. The prophets, however, turned the concept around and against Israel. They spoke of it as that decisive time in history when God's justice is done in the world, including the punishment of the chosen people. The passage pictures the imminence of divine justice with vivid expressions, such as "thick darkness" -- a darkness no light can penetrate. The event involves the coming of a mighty and fearsome army unlike any ever experienced. The verses that stand between the two portions of the lesson (3-11) describe that army in some detail and heighten the terror of the frightful day. In verse 11 we are told that this military force is none other than God's own army that comes to execute the divine justice.
With that vivid and terrifying announcement ringing in our ears, the second part of the reading reverses the tone of the first eleven verses and the inevitability implicit in them. God invites the people to return to their Lord. "Return" (the Hebrew concept of repentance) is a turning around, a coming back to the covenant.
How shall we return (v. 12)? The answer is in the usual expression of mourning -- fasting and weeping. However, the inward act of tearing the heart should replace the outward act of tearing clothing. We return by internalizing the sorrow over our unfaithfulness.
Why should we return (v. 13)? Because God does not really desire the punishment of the nation. God is gracious and remains faithful to the covenant (chesed -- "steadfast love") established with the people. Yahweh is reluctant to punish and seeks our return.
What might our returning accomplish (v. 14)? Our actions cannot manipulate the Almighty; there is no guarantee that we can avoid getting exactly what we deserve. However, who knows? God may reverse the plan and bring blessing (that is, physical prosperity -- see vv. 19-27) rather than destruction. Then and because of God's restoring the riches of the land, the people can once again make their grain and drink offerings to God.
What then shall we do? The tone changes again in verse 15, where the words of the announcement of the coming of the day of the Lord in verse 1 are used to call the people to assemble. While Joel sounds like Amos in his depiction of the day of the Lord, he seems almost the opposite of Amos in the importance he attaches to worship (see Amos 5:21-24). The people are to set themselves apart ("sanctify") for worship. This assembly includes everyone -- the aged, the children, infants, and even the newlyweds. When they are all gathered, the priests are then to make intercessions on behalf of the people (v.16). Their prayers should ask for God's pity, appeal to the covenant relationship God has with the people, and remind God that the divine's reputation is tied up with what becomes of the chosen people. The remainder of chapter 2 describes how God will respond favorably to the people's repentance.
At the center of this reading stands the words of verse 13: "rend your hearts and not your clothing." Like a floodlight, they illumine the entire passage. Joel expects the people to show outward signs of their returning to Yahweh (fasting and weeping), and he calls on them to gather for worship. However, all of that does not matter if the people's hearts are not torn in two with both regret for the past and hope in God's mercy. Appearance may deceive. Returning to God can be only a facade, unless, of course, something fundamental is changed deep in the lives of the nation. The ashes of Ash Wednesday mean something only if we rend our hearts, are fully committed to change, and willing to throw ourselves on the mercy of God.
2 Corinthians 5:20b--6:10
The opposite of appearance may be true.
The second lesson connects with the first reading in at least two ways. First, Paul insists that the present is a crucial time ("See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation" -- v. 2b) much as Joel announced that the day of the Lord was near. Second, Joel appeals for a change of heart, an inner transformation, and Paul suggests that there is an opposition between appearances and reality (vv. 8-10).
We are once again embroiled in Paul's struggle to vindicate himself in the eyes of those contentious Corinthians. He appeals to the courage he and his colleagues have exhibited and their conviction that the appearances of outward destruction deceives, because it hides the future hope. Then he turns the discussion toward the possibilities of reconciliation with his opponents in the Corinthian church (4:16--5:20). Throughout this discussion, the "we" refers to Paul and his missionary companions.
Since in Christ God has reconciled the relationship between humans and their Creator, we ourselves become reconcilers. Implicit in Paul's argument here is that the Corinthian Christians have been reconciled with God and therefore should reconcile with Paul and his companions. If God reconciles us with God's self, then by implication we become reconcilers among humans. The gospel indicative (we are reconciled) issues into an imperative (be reconciled). Paul claims that by being the recipients of God's righteousness (making us right with God), Christians become the embodiment of that divine righteousness -- "so that in him (Christ) we might become the righteousness of God." Throughout 5:20-21, Paul argues that what God does for us becomes personified in what we do for others.
In 6:1 Paul's argument goes in a different direction. His appeal to the Corinthians now takes the form of the appeal to recognize the crucial time of salvation (much as Joel's announcement of the day of the Lord does). To refuse the offer of reconciliation is tantamount to accepting "the grace of God in vain." God's grace is then "without effect," as one commentator puts it. Paul seems to suggest that embodying God's grace is part of accepting it. Even one's salvation is at stake in this embodiment.
Paul claims that this moment is the time of salvation. Therefore the decision to accept Paul and his traveling companions is a decision for salvation. Notice the repetition of "now." For Isaiah (49:8) the moment when God helps the people of Israel is the moment of their salvation. What does Paul mean, however, by "acceptable time"? Apparently only that it is the time of God's choosing and hence a time God favors. (See Luke 4:19 in which it is the year that is acceptable.)
The appeal is strengthened through what Paul now claims for his circle of missionaries (6:3-10). He declares that their ministries are without "fault" and are not a hindrance to faith in any way. Rather their behavior has always been positive; that is, it has enhanced the offer of salvation ("commended"). Then he defends this declaration by offering three lists. First, in verses 4b-5 he lists nine hardships he and his team have suffered. That list is followed by another, this time of nine virtues (vv. 6-8a). Each is introduced by the word "in" to suggest that both these hardships and virtues forms the context of their ministry. They were in real life situations. All of this is to appeal to the readers to see the radical commitment of the missionaries and their unquestionable character in the face of hardship.
The reading concludes with a third list, this time of contrasting terms (vv. 8b-10). In this case, Paul lists seven opposites (or antitheses) each introduced with "as" and each pair connected with the word "yet." The world perceives the Christian missionaries as imposters, unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, poor, and having nothing. In fact, however, they are true, well known, alive, not killed, always rejoicing, making many rich, and possessing everything. Paul hopes that the Corinthians can see beyond the appearances to what the missionaries really are. In verses 11-13 Paul concludes this defense of his ministry.
The opposite of appearance may be true. What we think we see may be exactly the opposite of what is actually real. Appearances are deceptive when it comes to judging the character of another. What we see may not be the deeper reality.
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
The most important things may be secret.
Jesus' sermon on the mount in Matthew is a collection of teachings which loosely hang together around the topic of discipleship. We might read the sermon as a kind of manual for those who follow Jesus. The assigned passage begins with what might be deemed the fourth part of the sermon. We assume that 5:1-12 -- the beatitudes -- constitutes the first part; the metaphors of light and salt the second -- 5:13-16; and the third part is 5:17-18, which includes Jesus' discussion of the law, along with the antitheses. Chapter 6 begins a series of teachings on piety which continues through verse 18. Verses 19-21 comprise the first of a group of sayings about the character of a disciple.
The descriptions of certain religious practices in verses 1-18 are structured along several oppositions. The first is the behavior of the Christian and that of the hypocrite (literally, the "play-actor") and the Gentiles. The second opposition is receiving reward and being denied reward. The third opposition is between public and private behavior. The entire section is introduced with the opposition between public and private behavior and a warning about practicing piety in public in order to be seen by others. A title for this section might be "inconspicuous piety." Three practices are discussed: almsgiving (vv. 2-4), prayer (vv. 5-15), and fasting (vv. 16-18).
Almsgiving accompanied by fanfare and ostentatiousness has its reward already in what others think of you. Therefore, God does not reward it. In contrast, God rewards "in secret" giving that is done "in secret." In this case, the giving is so secret that the givers themselves hardly know what they are doing. One hand is unaware of what the other hand is doing.
The same is true of prayer. In this case, prayer is done in secret and rewarded in secret but is also addressed to a God who is "in secret." The contrast of the street corner and the closet is vivid. It is not the place of prayer, however, that is important but the motive and purpose for praying. The phrase, "your Father who is in secret," is a puzzle. Is God secret? Does this expression refer to what has been called the "hiddenness of God"? Or, does it mean that God meets us in the private times of our lives? (The "Our Father" is taught in verses 7-15 as a model prayer.)
What is said about almsgiving and prayer applies also to fasting, and the pattern established in the earlier verses is repeated in verses 16-18. Verse 17 seems to advocate a kind of "disguised" fasting. Anointing oneself with oil and washing the face were daily practices and part of standard hygiene. So, in effect, Jesus is saying, when you fast, act as you would act everyday and appear no different than you would normally appear. However, this anointing and washing is a private acknowledgment of your fasting. It is the "secret" nature of the prayer closet mentioned earlier. In summary, in these teachings Jesus seems to be urging us to avoid practicing our faith for the recognition it brings from others and to be sure we are doing it for and in the presence of God. The motives for these practices is what is at stake here.
Verses 19-21 introduce the next unit of the sermon. They push us even deeper into our motives for religious practices, and we find ourselves asking what it is we want to "store up" in this life. First, Jesus opposes two values for life. In the first, we accumulate that which is vulnerable to time and thief. In the second, we gather that which has lasting value and is not vulnerable to anything. The "moth" was a common symbol of destruction in the ancient world. The translation "rust" is a concession to the modern ear, and the Greek word means gobbling up or gulping. It may have referred to another destructive insect. Verse 21 sounds like a simple wisdom saying (for example, see Proverbs 23:4), but in this context it surely has to do with the merits of the kind of almsgiving, prayer, and fasting described in the previous verses. You yourself are what you value in life. What you value and seek in life determines your nature. Unlike the old saying, "You are what you eat," Jesus says, "You are what you save up (or value)."
Therefore, the most important things may be secret, not public, not discernible. None of this should be taken to demean the public side of Christian life and community. Rather it presses us down to what is most essential for us, and that is why verses 16-18 are such an appropriate conclusion to this lesson. We apply this distinction between private and public behavior to ourselves, and that leads us to our need to cultivate the important things in life. But we also should read this lesson with an eye on our attitude toward others. Appearances are deceiving, so we have no business trying to draw conclusions about other people entirely in terms of impressions. Jesus, of course, gets around to this very point later in the sermon (7:1-5). What matters is what we are storing up and where.
There is something deceiving too about Ash Wednesday. The ashes imposed on this special day are deceiving in their appearance. Black smudges on our foreheads. The powdery remains of the burned palms leaves saved from Palm Sunday. The marking of our foreheads with a dirty cross. Yet these ashes are in reality secretly something far more. While indicating our frail mortality, they represent God's promise to preserve us against the consequences of both our humanity and our sinfulness. The ashes of this Wednesday are tokens of our willingness to admit our sin and brokenness, of the possibilities of repentance, and of the futures that God opens to us when we turn around to face our Savior. They are in effect our hope of being something more than meets the eye and proves that appearances can be deceiving.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
The lectionary for this day is apparently incapable of pointing to any other text in the Old Testament to use to call for the repentance we are supposed to have on Ash Wednesday. These verses from Joel form the stated Old Testament lesson for both Cycles C and A, as well as for Cycle B today. The preacher may therefore wish to refer to the expositions previously published in those cycles. But of course, there is always something more to be said in relation to any biblical text, and I shall try to add on to what has previously been pointed out.
The prophecies of Joel, delivered in the post-exilic time between 500 and 350 B.C., are cosmic in their sweep. The struggling community of Judah has experienced an overwhelming plague of locusts that have eaten everything, followed by a severe drought that has ruined any vegetation sprouting up after the locust plague. But Joel's message is, in popular words, "You ain't seen nothin' yet." The locusts and the drought have been mere harbingers of greater destruction to come, for that which faces Judah -- and indeed us -- is the final Day of the Lord, when God will come to bring human history to an end, destroying his enemies in whatever nation, and setting up his kingdom over all the earth. "The day of the Lord is coming, it is near," says our text, and it is "a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness" (2:1-2). Our sins, our unfaithfulness to the Lord, will testify against us in that day, and the question that confronts us is, "Who can endure it?" (v. 11). Certainly not Judah, certainly not you, certainly not me, for "we like sheep have gone astray" (Isaiah 53:6). We have gone far from our divine Shepherd.
That particular confession of our sin still can be found on the lips of devout Christians in our time, but for most modern Americans, it is an alien thought. For you see, in our present culture, there really is no such thing as sin, and the reason for that is twofold. First of all, in order to have a concept of sinfulness, we must have an absolute concept of right and wrong. But our modern society no longer believes in absolutes. No. Everything is relative these days. You have your opinions and definitions of what is right, and I have mine. And my definitions may be entirely different from yours. In fact, I know what is right for me, but it may not be right for you. And you know what is wrong for me to do, but I may not think it is wrong at all. Everything is relative. Everything depends on individual viewpoints and experiences, and there is no general definition of right and wrong that can be applied to everybody. There is no absolute, and if we try to define one, the retort is, "Don't impose your middle-class morality on me! I know what is good for me! So stop preaching to me!"
Second, everything is relative in our society's views of ethical living, because there is no understanding of who God is. Dostoyevsky once wrote that "if there is no God, anything is permissible," and that's pretty well the way it is in America today, isn't it? God is anything that any one individual dreams up or imagines in our time. Each person conjures up his or her own deity, depending on personal desires and background. And the realization that there really is a Lord of heaven and earth, whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts, is far from most people's religious understanding.
Our prophet Joel, however, knows that there is a Lord who rules over our lives and earth. He knows that the Lord has revealed himself through 800 years of history in the lives of his people Israel. He knows that God has asked of that people, as he asks of us, love in return for his love and care, mercy toward our neighbors as God is merciful, and trust in that Lord to show us the paths of right and wrong and to guide and support us all our days. Similarly, the whole New Testament witnesses to the full revelation in the Spirit of that God and Father in his Son Jesus Christ. And it knows that Christ has given us commandments about the way we should walk. And it is very clear that when we do not walk in the Lord's ways -- when we wander astray like sheep, far from our divine Shepherd -- then we have done wrong and sinned, breaking the relationship that we have had with our God from the time of our birth. Yes, there is right and wrong in the eyes of our Lord, good Christians. And Joel tells us that because we have been unfaithful, we are in danger of being the enemies of God whom he will destroy in the Day of the Lord.
"And yet" -- and yet -- reads our text, there is a way we can stand in that Day of "darkness and gloom." There is a way we can "endure" the final judgment and be reunited with our Lord once more, and become the recipients of his abundant and eternal life. We can repent of our wrong. That is what the prophecy of Joel tells us. We can repent. And that means we can turn around and walk once again toward our Shepherd and not away from him, because God holds the door open to us, you see. Even in the time of Joel he held open the door for Judah's return to him. For the Lord "is gracious and merciful," Joel proclaimed. He is "slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love" (v. 13), and he will indeed receive any repentant sinner who turns to him for mercy. Do we not know that? Did Jesus not tell us that the good Shepherd not only holds open the door for our return, but goes out seaching for all us wanderers? And when he finds us, he rejoices with exceeding joy, because "there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance" (Luke 15:6-7). On this Ash Wednesday, the door is open, the way is cleared for us to return to our heavenly Father. "Even now," "yet even now," agrees Joel. We can return.
It has to be a heartfelt repentance that results in different and more faithful lives, however. "Rend your hearts," says Joel (v. 13). "Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit," agrees Ezekiel. "Why will you die, O house of Israel?" (Ezekiel 18:31). Why will you fail, O house of Judah? Why will you be unable to stand in the day of judgment, the Day of the Lord, O church of Christ? Turn and live.
Well, it is not easy to repent and turn, is it? It is almost impossible for us to amend our own lives. But the Lord Christ has never deserted us, and he does not desert us now. Right now, by his promise, he is in our midst, working in our hearts. And when we surrender our lives to him, he floods our hearts with his merciful Spirit and gives us power to be faithful and to do his will that is right. So, in repentance, good Christians, on this Ash Wednesday, let us turn over our forgiven lives to him.
