Fullness by any other name ...
Commentary
"The whole experience was dirty, draining, and depressing." That's how George Stephanopoulos, in his book All Too Human, described one period in the run for the Clinton presidency. In the book, Stephanopoulos tells the story of his political education, which, to a point, was also a spiritual education. With ambition and vanity, George quickly rose in the ranks of those who served President Clinton. He became the president's senior advisor and basked in the fame and the fury of that position. Then he discovered that this lifestyle did not provide him with the fullness of life that he wanted. He admits in this painfully honest and revealing book that he failed to heed the advice of his father, who, after reminding him of the myth of Icarus, said to him upon Clinton's election to the White House, "Be careful. Keep your balance."
How do we keep balance in our furious world? How do we maintain an even keel amid siren sounds promising fulfillment and satisfaction in this pursuit or that acquisition? Let's listen to what Hosea and Paul have to tell us from what they witness in the course of human events. They will direct our attention to how God is acting in the world, an attention that will ultimately be focused on the cross of Christ. From Christ Jesus we will hear today some important words about prayer, which is God's gift to keep us in the balance between heaven and earth, God's rule and our temptations.
By the way, I am using the word "fullness" a good bit in this discussion. Admittedly, it's one of those churchy words that people don't use often in everyday speech. (If you doubt that, just go to an Internet search engine, type in "fullness" and see how many religious and how few secular sites come up!) But if you look up "full" in a dictionary, there are plenty of connections to life. If you choose to speak about fullness using that term, you might want to remind your hearers of some of those associations.
Hosea 1:2-10
The prophecy of Hosea, along with that of his contemporary Amos, sealed the fate of the northern kingdom. "The days of Jeroboam" (Hosea 1:1) would be among the last days of Israel. God, through the hands of the Assyrians, would see to that. Before the close of the eighth century B.C., Hosea's harsh words against the house of Jehu would be fulfilled: not pitied and not my people will be the name by which Israel will be remembered. There was a dreadful price to be paid for the religious apostasy that characterized the nation. Rather than relying on God as their fortress and their might, the leadership crafted political alliances with the Assyrians and the Egyptians. They permitted and even promoted Baal worship in concession to local culture. Immorality was rampant, as the priests filled their personal coffers with gain.
Onto this scene strides Hosea (whose name means "salvation," related to the root word for Joshua) with a word of judgment. In contrast to Amos' visions (for example, the plumb line and the basket of fruit), Hosea lives out a personal parable through which he speaks volumes to the nation. Hosea is instructed by the Lord to take a wife -- and not just any wife, but Gomer, a woman unfaithful in relationships. In his marriage, Hosea would be mirroring God's relationship to his people. Just as Gomer practiced harlotry, so too had the people of Israel practiced harlotry, even though they had been married to the Lord (1:2). Gomer's three children by Hosea are named prophetically as types of the people of Israel.
First born is Jezreel, named to recall the sins of Ahab and Jezebel (2 Kings 9:7-10), the latter whose flesh would be eaten by the dogs of Jezreel. What is sobering about this judgment is that God judges the very ones whom he had used for his judgment earlier (see 2 Kings 9:30--10:36). No one escapes the wrath of God, not even those whom he raises up to execute his wrath. The house of Jehu will be brought down, just like the house of Ahab was brought down, by the hand of the Lord in judgment for its sins.
Second born is Not Pitied. God will no longer offer his mercy to the people who have proven so rebellious. Judah, however, will still be favored to carry out God's purposes. Instead, through Judah, the promises made to God's people will be fulfilled. They shall inherit the moniker "Sons of the living God" (1:10).
Third born is Not My People. Not only will God remove his favor from the people, but also his identity. They will no longer be known as the people of God, for they will be no more. When God removes his presence from the people (symbolized by his removing his name from them), their presence on the landscape of time disappears. After the Assyrian rampage through the countryside under Sargon II, the rod of God's anger (Isaiah 10:5), was completed in 721 B.C., that is exactly what happened.
Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19)
Apparently, Paul has not visited this congregation (Colossians 2:1-5). Epaphras was the seed-planter of faith and Paul is confident in and appreciative of the work that he did (Colossians 1:7-8). Paul does, however, want to affirm and encourage the Colossians in their faith (Colossians 2:2, 5).
In these few verses of our pericope, Paul provides a synopsis of the faith in terms of the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. To say that "the whole fulness of deity dwells bodily" in him (2:9) is to strike down the gnostic notion that Christ is a demigod, a distant emanation from the one true God. Placing the prepositional phrase "in him" at the beginning of the sentence is Paul's way of emphasizing that precisely in Jesus God has incarnated his presence and love for humanity (see also John 1:14). We get the real McCoy in Jesus, not a hand-me-down! This underscores the sufficiency and the superiority of Jesus when it comes to the knowledge of God amid competing truth claims of various philosophies and human traditions, which Paul decries as "empty enticements" (2:8). The writer to the Hebrews argues this same point, only within the context of the sacrifice system of the first covenant (Hebrews 8-10 especially).
Verses 13-14 make wonderful declaration about our sins and the cross of Christ. It is similar to what Paul writes in Romans 5:6-11. Our sins are our death. God takes the initiative to cancel "the bond which stood against us with its legal demands" (2:14; see also Romans 3:26 and 6:23a). The indictment is nailed to the cross with our sins in the body of Jesus, so that we may be free of their curse. This is what forgiveness means, what grace is all about (2:13).
Just as Christians are buried with Christ into death in baptism, so too in that same baptism are they raised to new life, fullness of life in him (2:10). Because Jesus is raised from the dead, he is the head of all rule and authority and can provide us with that which we could not attain to ourselves, namely a growth that is from God (2:19). Paul goes on to describe this growth later in his letter (Colossians 3:12f), as he applies the grace of God to the various situations and conditions of human life together.
As Christians are rooted in what Christ has done, making them alive to God, they can be built up into a fullness of life that also comes from God. This fullness of life is not necessarily manifest in ascetic disciplines or ritual practices (2:16-18), but in a growth into Christ-likeness, represented by Paul's expression to hold fast to the Head (2:19). In the second half of this letter, Paul details what this means in terms of the character of daily Christian life.
Luke 11:1-13
One cannot read the Gospels without noticing that Jesus was often in prayer. Whether that be in a lonely place apart, or in the Upper Room, or in Gethsemane or on the cross, Jesus was certainly a man of prayer. It is not strange, then, that the disciples would approach him and ask him to teach them to pray. It was common custom for a rabbi to give a special prayer to his disciples, that they too could use to voice their heart to God. The disciples saw John the Baptist giving his disciples such a prayer, and this band of devotees wanted one from Jesus, their rabbi.
In response, Jesus encouraged them not only to pray, but he also gave them precious words to use in their prayers. Whether they used their Lord's prayer before or after their individual prayers, or in place of them all together, they would be praying for the essentials of the godly life. First, their petitions would honor God and seek God's rule in their lives and on earth above all else. Second, their petitions would focus on essential human needs for life -- namely, personal well-being, well-being in human relationships and well-being in relationship with God.
One of the interesting words used in Luke's version of the Lord's Prayer is the conjunction which, in this instance means, "for, the ground or reason being...." The petition to forgive us our sins is offered, strangely enough, grounded on the observation that Christians in fact forgive those who are in some way indebted to them (11:4). The way this should be understood is not as an argument with God based on works righteousness: "God, you must forgive our sins, based on the fact that we ourselves have already forgiven others." That would go against the basic understanding throughout the New Testament that forgiveness is a free, unmerited gift from God. Instead, think of it as a human touch-point that provides assurance that God is indeed a forgiving God; for, if we can be forgiving, then certainly God, who is above and beyond us, can be forgiving. We are, after all, created in God's image.
It is interesting that Matthew's version of the Lord's Prayer uses the adverb in this petition to express the relative manner in which God should forgive our sins -- as we forgive those who sin against us. Jesus' explanation in Matthew 6:14-15 (see also Matthew 18:21-35) confirms this nuance of meaning. In contrast, Luke's recording of Jesus' reflections on a father's treatment of a son's request (Luke 11:11-13) validates the intentional use of the word meaning "for, the ground or reason being" is an expression of the reasoning by which we may approach God expectantly with our requests.
This is further drawn out in Luke by Jesus' little story of importunity (11:5-8). It's odd, don't you think, that friendship is not the basis for response to a request; rather, audacity and obtrusiveness is (11:8). Jesus again lifts up this angle on prayer in Luke 18:1-8. The point is simply not to lose heart; be persistent; keep knocking on heaven's door. That is the privilege of prayer. God invites us to come before him like an insistent child will approach daddy ("abba" -- the Aramaic expression for the Greek Pater, which lacks the formalism of the traditional and liturgically-oriented formulation found in Matthew's version of the Lord's Prayer as "Our Father in heaven ...").
Application
How many Jews going through the Holocaust and those living in its aftermath have considered themselves Not Pitied and Not My People? Berish, the innkeeper in Elie Wiesel's The Trial of God, declares, "God is merciless, don't you know that?" He states, what the people of the northern kingdom in the eighth century B.C. could have uttered anachronistically, "Purim is over. For good." (Purim is the feast celebrating the deliverance of the Hebrew people from the plotting of Haman, recorded in the Book of Esther, possibly written in the fourth or fifth century B.C.)
Yet, there is a promise in God's word of judgment: "In the place where it was said to them, 'You are not my people,' it shall be said to them, 'Sons of the living God' " (Hosea 1:10). Though six million indeed perished in the Holocaust, yet as a people the Jews survived. Again, from The Trial of God, in a terse exchange Sam, a stranger, says, "Blessed be the Lord for his miracles." To which Mendel, the eldest and wisest of the ensemble, replies, "A whole community was massacred, and you talk of miracles?" Sam rebuts, "A Jew survived, and you ignore them?"
How can we speak of fullness of life in the midst of such tragedy? It certainly is not easy and only comes after much struggle; but it is possible, because God's promises persist. Just as God provided a promise in the midst of his judgment upon Israel, so too there are promises in any and every situation where we may find ourselves. Fullness of life, after all, is not found in our own satisfaction, but in satisfying God's will in our lives. Note how survivors of cancer, whether patients or bereaved loved ones, grow beyond their grief when they become involved in advocating education or funding research in the field. Note how some prisoners, upon release from incarceration, join the battle for prison reform. The faithful not only look for practical responses like these to hard-knock situations; they also search for a deeper understanding of the mysteries of God and how to communicate them to a world that puts God on trial. The faithful will still find fullness of life in the midst of tragedies, as they continue to praise God and love God -- in spite of themselves and for the sake of the neighbor who is struggling to find God's true nature.
In his book Why Christian? which he describes as "for people on the edges," Douglas John Hall strives to provide a convincing, Christian response for people who are looking for resolution to their spiritual longings, whether they are on the edges of faith or on the edges of the Christian tradition or on the edges of the church. This apologetic work attempts to make clear connections between Christian belief and the human situation.
This is so needful in our day and age when spiritual energy is strong, but, more times than not, misdirected. The Zeitgeist has endorsed the spiritual journey; however, and consecrated by the powers of individualism, relativism and pluralism, it is considered to be self-defined and self-directed. Paul, in Colossians, helps guide the quest to find its fullness "in him," that is, in Jesus Christ. Over and over again, the reader of this letter is directed to Jesus in order to find the fullness of life (in him) that is the longing of every human heart.
There may be some discussion just how to translate the last prepositional phrase in verse 15, whether it should read "in him" or "in it" (that is, the cross). This simply points to the obvious, that to find Jesus one must look to the cross. To look to the cross is to see just where Jesus does his work on our behalf. To see the cross is to see how God shows his love for us and to what extent God will go to claim us as his forgiven and accepted beloved. It is as the beloved that the believer grows into the fullness of life that God intends.
What better way to grow into the fullness of life that God intends for his beloved than to pray? Today, what we learn about prayer from Jesus is that prayer is offered to God's glory; it is asking for needs, not wants; it is concerned about right relationship with God as well as one's neighbor. Ultimately, prayer is communication with God that there be communion with God (Luke 11:13) -- that we have God, like a log absorbs fire into its very being until it changes its wood fiber composition into heat and light. In this way the log becomes more than itself; transformed into fullness of life. In the same way, Christians become more than themselves as they let God's Holy Spirit burn within them to will and to work his good pleasure.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Hosea 1:2-10
The first two chapters of the book of Hosea probably come from the early part of the reign of Jeroboam II (786-746 B.C.) in the northern kingdom of Israel, although Hosea's ministry likely extended until about 723 B.C. During Jeroboam's kingship, the life of Israel was permeated by the idolatrous worship of the fertility gods and goddesses of the Canaanites, to whom the Israelites looked for the nurture and sustenance of life. Such deities called baals were worshiped at various "high places," that is, cult sites, throughout the land, and it was believed that through the exercise of sympathetic magic the baals could be coerced into granting fertility to both the land and human beings. What was done in the people's worship on earth would be duplicated in the realm of the gods. Thus by committing sexual intercourse with male and female prostitutes at the high places, the people thought the baals would grant them fertile and good lives also. It was into this idolatrous and sinful situation that Hosea was sent by the Lord of all nature and history to deliver God's word.
The verses of our text come from a disciple of Hosea's, who recounts God's initial commands to the prophet, and the first command given is shocking indeed. Hosea is commanded by the Lord to marry a harlotrous woman, who has participated either continually or infrequently in baalistic prostitution. Some commentators do not believe that God would command such a marriage, and so they hold that Gomer was at first pure. But Gomer is the living symbol of Israel's harlotry with the baals, and Hosea's marriage to her serves as the symbol of God's marriage or covenant with unfaithful Israel. Three children are born of the union over a period of some five years, and each is given a symbolic name that tells what God is doing or will do with his covenant people.
The first child is called Jezreel, because earlier Jehu, the king of Israel, fostered the idolatrous worship of the fertility gods (2 Kings 10:29-31), which reached its climax under Jeroboam II. Hosea therefore prophesied that Israel would suffer a military defeat in the Valley of Jezreel, a defeat wrought by the armies of Assyria in 733 B.C.
The name of the second child is "Not Pitied." God announces by the symbol that he will no longer have tender, loving pity on his sinful folk, as he has so often had ever since the time of their enslavement in Egypt, when he saw their suffering and came down to deliver them (cf. Exodus 3:7-8). Now Israel's plight no longer awakens empathy in the Lord's heart, because they no longer love him as he has loved them through the centuries. (Verse 7 is considered by most scholars to be a later assertion, assuring Judah that her sole helper will be the Lord.)
The naming of the third child brings the passage to its climax. His name will be "Not my people," because Israel is no longer God's covenant people, and he is no longer their God. Throughout the Old Testament, the covenant formula is, "I will be your God, and you shall be my people" (Exodus 6:7; Leviticus 26:12; Jeremiah 7:23, 11:14, et al.). In those words, God pledged his everlasting bond with his covenant people, but Israel's unfaithfulness has caused the Lord to break the bond that only he can annul. He now divorces his "wife" (cf. 2:2), and abandons her to her impotent baal lover-gods, to whom she looks for life, but who cannot give her life or good.
The fact that the lectionary appends verse 10 to our reading for the morning mirrors our discomfort with the impact of this passage. Would God ever abandon his covenant people, who are now his Christian Church? Could he ever withdraw his pity for our inability to overcome our own sin and the forces of death? Can the Lord turn his back on us in a world such as ours -- a world of suffering and violence that we have made for ourselves? Verse 10 answers "no." A later insertion by the prophet, it speaks of the time in the future when God will once again fulfill his promises to his covenant people and take them back as his own. And that agrees with Hosea's later portrayal of the Lord, when God sobs out that he cannot surrender his people whom he has loved and will always love (cf. Hosea 11:8-9, part of our text for next Sunday). Similarly, it agrees with Hosea 3:1-5, when the prophet is commanded to seek out his divorced wife, Gomer, and to take her back to himself.
God's stern judgment -- fearful and destructive -- is never his last word, in Hosea or anywhere else in the scriptures. To be sure, God does bring his judgment upon us for our idolatry and sinfulness toward him. Let none of us ignore that message from Hosea, which is directed as much to us as to ancient Israel. But above all else, God's pity, God's mercy, God's love defines his character, and as foretold in Hosea's prophecy, God's faithful love for us forgives us through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and makes us his own. We do not ever deserve that love. We remain always unworthy of it. But nevertheless, while we are sinners, Christ lives for us, Christ dies for us, Christ is raised for us and we are God's people. And nothing can separate us from that love. The word from scripture for us is therefore, repent and believe that good news, and then live lives of gratitude and faithfulness because of it.
Lutheran Option -- Genesis 18:20-32
Our text forms a continuation of Genesis 18:1-19, in which three men appear suddenly at the door of Abraham's tent in the heat of the day, and in which one of the mysterious figures turns out to be the Lord. He promises Abraham that his aged wife Sarah will bear him a son in the spring of the year. But then the Lord also decides that for the sake of Abraham's instructions of his future descendants, he must reveal to Abraham what he is going to do about Sodom, that city at the southern tip of the Dead Sea that is now covered with water, but which bears the archaeological marks of a great catastrophe.
An outcry has come up to the Lord from Sodom (Gomorrah is not mentioned in the rest of the text). He therefore determines to investigate the cause of the complaint. Abraham fears for Sodom, however, because his nephew Lot dwells there. But primarily Abraham is interested in a theological question. Is the Lord's judgment such that he will destroy the righteous persons in Sodom along with the wicked (v. 23)? That would not be just, and Abraham is primarily interested in justice. "Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?" he asks. It seems like a question very similar to ours: "How could God do this to me? I've been a good person all my life. This is not fair! I don't deserve this!"
Abraham therefore engages the Lord in a conversation, in which he pushes the Lord further and further. If the Lord discovers 50 righteous people in Sodom, will he spare the city for their sake? Then 45, 40, 30, 20, 10? To what lengths will God go to spare the faithful? Noteworthy in the conversation, however, is Abraham's attitude. Though he realizes that he is questioning the Lord and Judge of all the earth, he acknowledges his unworthiness, stating that he is but dust and ashes and pleading with the Lord not to be angry with him. We could use more of that attitude when we set out to complain with God or even to speak to him. As God thundered to Job out of the whirlwind, "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?" (Job 38:2). We petty little ignorant human beings need to realize with whom we are speaking when we set out to question God.
And let's face it, friends. Not one of us deserves to be delivered from the judgment of God, because not one of is righteous, "no, not one" (Romans 3:10). All of us have fallen short from the persons God intended us to be, and were God to be totally just, we all would be condemned like Sodom. But contrary to Abraham's thinking in our text, God is not just. He is merciful. And so he declares to Abraham that if he finds just 10 righteous persons in Sodom, he will spare the city for their sake. According to the chapter that follows, there are not even 10 to be found in the evil city, and there are not 10 to be found among us either. But God in his overflowing mercy has spared us and promised us abundant and eternal life, not because there are 10 righteous among us, but one. And his name is Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God!
THE POLITICAL PULPIT
By Mark Ellingsen
Luke 11:1-13
Welfare reform and the working poor
The Gospel for today, in which Jesus teaches the Lord's Prayer, includes a reference petitioning for daily bread, which several venerable interpretive traditions regard as including the Christian's responsibility for feeding all in need. A sermon on that theme can give you cover from being heard as offering some liberal, new-fangled interpretation of Christ's perfect prayer.
And here's some supportive material:
* Regarding the Lord's Prayer, cite some of the language of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2831, or of Martin Luther's The Large Catechism, III, 4.
* Consider the economic facts regarding family and household incomes from 1970 to 1997 (the most recent year for which data is available). The proportion of American households making above $75,000 per year has more than doubled in this period (from 9 percent of the American families in 1970 to 18.4 percent in 1997). The rich are getting richer, and more Americans have become wealthy as a result of the economic good times.
* Counter the notion that the quarter-century of the study have been good years for the poor as well. True, the percentage of American families making under $10,000 decreased from 13.4 percent in 1970 to a still-too-high 11 percent in 1997. But those making only $10,000 to $14,000 annually increased from 7.5 percent in 1970 to 8.1 percent. The economic boom has decreased the underclass slightly, though not the working poor. And when one takes into account the inflationary spiral since 1970, an increase in those making less than $15,000 is hardly good news. The number of poor remains one-fifth of American households, and they are getting poorer.
A sermon on this theme may help you raise some hard questions about unqualified endorsement of the welfare reforms, kindling in your parish some sense that the church needs to do something in your community in response to the new realities. If nothing else, your parishioners' sensitivity to hearing the biblical mandate to care for the poor may be enhanced by exposing them to this data.
How do we keep balance in our furious world? How do we maintain an even keel amid siren sounds promising fulfillment and satisfaction in this pursuit or that acquisition? Let's listen to what Hosea and Paul have to tell us from what they witness in the course of human events. They will direct our attention to how God is acting in the world, an attention that will ultimately be focused on the cross of Christ. From Christ Jesus we will hear today some important words about prayer, which is God's gift to keep us in the balance between heaven and earth, God's rule and our temptations.
By the way, I am using the word "fullness" a good bit in this discussion. Admittedly, it's one of those churchy words that people don't use often in everyday speech. (If you doubt that, just go to an Internet search engine, type in "fullness" and see how many religious and how few secular sites come up!) But if you look up "full" in a dictionary, there are plenty of connections to life. If you choose to speak about fullness using that term, you might want to remind your hearers of some of those associations.
Hosea 1:2-10
The prophecy of Hosea, along with that of his contemporary Amos, sealed the fate of the northern kingdom. "The days of Jeroboam" (Hosea 1:1) would be among the last days of Israel. God, through the hands of the Assyrians, would see to that. Before the close of the eighth century B.C., Hosea's harsh words against the house of Jehu would be fulfilled: not pitied and not my people will be the name by which Israel will be remembered. There was a dreadful price to be paid for the religious apostasy that characterized the nation. Rather than relying on God as their fortress and their might, the leadership crafted political alliances with the Assyrians and the Egyptians. They permitted and even promoted Baal worship in concession to local culture. Immorality was rampant, as the priests filled their personal coffers with gain.
Onto this scene strides Hosea (whose name means "salvation," related to the root word for Joshua) with a word of judgment. In contrast to Amos' visions (for example, the plumb line and the basket of fruit), Hosea lives out a personal parable through which he speaks volumes to the nation. Hosea is instructed by the Lord to take a wife -- and not just any wife, but Gomer, a woman unfaithful in relationships. In his marriage, Hosea would be mirroring God's relationship to his people. Just as Gomer practiced harlotry, so too had the people of Israel practiced harlotry, even though they had been married to the Lord (1:2). Gomer's three children by Hosea are named prophetically as types of the people of Israel.
First born is Jezreel, named to recall the sins of Ahab and Jezebel (2 Kings 9:7-10), the latter whose flesh would be eaten by the dogs of Jezreel. What is sobering about this judgment is that God judges the very ones whom he had used for his judgment earlier (see 2 Kings 9:30--10:36). No one escapes the wrath of God, not even those whom he raises up to execute his wrath. The house of Jehu will be brought down, just like the house of Ahab was brought down, by the hand of the Lord in judgment for its sins.
Second born is Not Pitied. God will no longer offer his mercy to the people who have proven so rebellious. Judah, however, will still be favored to carry out God's purposes. Instead, through Judah, the promises made to God's people will be fulfilled. They shall inherit the moniker "Sons of the living God" (1:10).
Third born is Not My People. Not only will God remove his favor from the people, but also his identity. They will no longer be known as the people of God, for they will be no more. When God removes his presence from the people (symbolized by his removing his name from them), their presence on the landscape of time disappears. After the Assyrian rampage through the countryside under Sargon II, the rod of God's anger (Isaiah 10:5), was completed in 721 B.C., that is exactly what happened.
Colossians 2:6-15 (16-19)
Apparently, Paul has not visited this congregation (Colossians 2:1-5). Epaphras was the seed-planter of faith and Paul is confident in and appreciative of the work that he did (Colossians 1:7-8). Paul does, however, want to affirm and encourage the Colossians in their faith (Colossians 2:2, 5).
In these few verses of our pericope, Paul provides a synopsis of the faith in terms of the incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. To say that "the whole fulness of deity dwells bodily" in him (2:9) is to strike down the gnostic notion that Christ is a demigod, a distant emanation from the one true God. Placing the prepositional phrase "in him" at the beginning of the sentence is Paul's way of emphasizing that precisely in Jesus God has incarnated his presence and love for humanity (see also John 1:14). We get the real McCoy in Jesus, not a hand-me-down! This underscores the sufficiency and the superiority of Jesus when it comes to the knowledge of God amid competing truth claims of various philosophies and human traditions, which Paul decries as "empty enticements" (2:8). The writer to the Hebrews argues this same point, only within the context of the sacrifice system of the first covenant (Hebrews 8-10 especially).
Verses 13-14 make wonderful declaration about our sins and the cross of Christ. It is similar to what Paul writes in Romans 5:6-11. Our sins are our death. God takes the initiative to cancel "the bond which stood against us with its legal demands" (2:14; see also Romans 3:26 and 6:23a). The indictment is nailed to the cross with our sins in the body of Jesus, so that we may be free of their curse. This is what forgiveness means, what grace is all about (2:13).
Just as Christians are buried with Christ into death in baptism, so too in that same baptism are they raised to new life, fullness of life in him (2:10). Because Jesus is raised from the dead, he is the head of all rule and authority and can provide us with that which we could not attain to ourselves, namely a growth that is from God (2:19). Paul goes on to describe this growth later in his letter (Colossians 3:12f), as he applies the grace of God to the various situations and conditions of human life together.
As Christians are rooted in what Christ has done, making them alive to God, they can be built up into a fullness of life that also comes from God. This fullness of life is not necessarily manifest in ascetic disciplines or ritual practices (2:16-18), but in a growth into Christ-likeness, represented by Paul's expression to hold fast to the Head (2:19). In the second half of this letter, Paul details what this means in terms of the character of daily Christian life.
Luke 11:1-13
One cannot read the Gospels without noticing that Jesus was often in prayer. Whether that be in a lonely place apart, or in the Upper Room, or in Gethsemane or on the cross, Jesus was certainly a man of prayer. It is not strange, then, that the disciples would approach him and ask him to teach them to pray. It was common custom for a rabbi to give a special prayer to his disciples, that they too could use to voice their heart to God. The disciples saw John the Baptist giving his disciples such a prayer, and this band of devotees wanted one from Jesus, their rabbi.
In response, Jesus encouraged them not only to pray, but he also gave them precious words to use in their prayers. Whether they used their Lord's prayer before or after their individual prayers, or in place of them all together, they would be praying for the essentials of the godly life. First, their petitions would honor God and seek God's rule in their lives and on earth above all else. Second, their petitions would focus on essential human needs for life -- namely, personal well-being, well-being in human relationships and well-being in relationship with God.
One of the interesting words used in Luke's version of the Lord's Prayer is the conjunction which, in this instance means, "for, the ground or reason being...." The petition to forgive us our sins is offered, strangely enough, grounded on the observation that Christians in fact forgive those who are in some way indebted to them (11:4). The way this should be understood is not as an argument with God based on works righteousness: "God, you must forgive our sins, based on the fact that we ourselves have already forgiven others." That would go against the basic understanding throughout the New Testament that forgiveness is a free, unmerited gift from God. Instead, think of it as a human touch-point that provides assurance that God is indeed a forgiving God; for, if we can be forgiving, then certainly God, who is above and beyond us, can be forgiving. We are, after all, created in God's image.
It is interesting that Matthew's version of the Lord's Prayer uses the adverb in this petition to express the relative manner in which God should forgive our sins -- as we forgive those who sin against us. Jesus' explanation in Matthew 6:14-15 (see also Matthew 18:21-35) confirms this nuance of meaning. In contrast, Luke's recording of Jesus' reflections on a father's treatment of a son's request (Luke 11:11-13) validates the intentional use of the word meaning "for, the ground or reason being" is an expression of the reasoning by which we may approach God expectantly with our requests.
This is further drawn out in Luke by Jesus' little story of importunity (11:5-8). It's odd, don't you think, that friendship is not the basis for response to a request; rather, audacity and obtrusiveness is (11:8). Jesus again lifts up this angle on prayer in Luke 18:1-8. The point is simply not to lose heart; be persistent; keep knocking on heaven's door. That is the privilege of prayer. God invites us to come before him like an insistent child will approach daddy ("abba" -- the Aramaic expression for the Greek Pater, which lacks the formalism of the traditional and liturgically-oriented formulation found in Matthew's version of the Lord's Prayer as "Our Father in heaven ...").
Application
How many Jews going through the Holocaust and those living in its aftermath have considered themselves Not Pitied and Not My People? Berish, the innkeeper in Elie Wiesel's The Trial of God, declares, "God is merciless, don't you know that?" He states, what the people of the northern kingdom in the eighth century B.C. could have uttered anachronistically, "Purim is over. For good." (Purim is the feast celebrating the deliverance of the Hebrew people from the plotting of Haman, recorded in the Book of Esther, possibly written in the fourth or fifth century B.C.)
Yet, there is a promise in God's word of judgment: "In the place where it was said to them, 'You are not my people,' it shall be said to them, 'Sons of the living God' " (Hosea 1:10). Though six million indeed perished in the Holocaust, yet as a people the Jews survived. Again, from The Trial of God, in a terse exchange Sam, a stranger, says, "Blessed be the Lord for his miracles." To which Mendel, the eldest and wisest of the ensemble, replies, "A whole community was massacred, and you talk of miracles?" Sam rebuts, "A Jew survived, and you ignore them?"
How can we speak of fullness of life in the midst of such tragedy? It certainly is not easy and only comes after much struggle; but it is possible, because God's promises persist. Just as God provided a promise in the midst of his judgment upon Israel, so too there are promises in any and every situation where we may find ourselves. Fullness of life, after all, is not found in our own satisfaction, but in satisfying God's will in our lives. Note how survivors of cancer, whether patients or bereaved loved ones, grow beyond their grief when they become involved in advocating education or funding research in the field. Note how some prisoners, upon release from incarceration, join the battle for prison reform. The faithful not only look for practical responses like these to hard-knock situations; they also search for a deeper understanding of the mysteries of God and how to communicate them to a world that puts God on trial. The faithful will still find fullness of life in the midst of tragedies, as they continue to praise God and love God -- in spite of themselves and for the sake of the neighbor who is struggling to find God's true nature.
In his book Why Christian? which he describes as "for people on the edges," Douglas John Hall strives to provide a convincing, Christian response for people who are looking for resolution to their spiritual longings, whether they are on the edges of faith or on the edges of the Christian tradition or on the edges of the church. This apologetic work attempts to make clear connections between Christian belief and the human situation.
This is so needful in our day and age when spiritual energy is strong, but, more times than not, misdirected. The Zeitgeist has endorsed the spiritual journey; however, and consecrated by the powers of individualism, relativism and pluralism, it is considered to be self-defined and self-directed. Paul, in Colossians, helps guide the quest to find its fullness "in him," that is, in Jesus Christ. Over and over again, the reader of this letter is directed to Jesus in order to find the fullness of life (in him) that is the longing of every human heart.
There may be some discussion just how to translate the last prepositional phrase in verse 15, whether it should read "in him" or "in it" (that is, the cross). This simply points to the obvious, that to find Jesus one must look to the cross. To look to the cross is to see just where Jesus does his work on our behalf. To see the cross is to see how God shows his love for us and to what extent God will go to claim us as his forgiven and accepted beloved. It is as the beloved that the believer grows into the fullness of life that God intends.
What better way to grow into the fullness of life that God intends for his beloved than to pray? Today, what we learn about prayer from Jesus is that prayer is offered to God's glory; it is asking for needs, not wants; it is concerned about right relationship with God as well as one's neighbor. Ultimately, prayer is communication with God that there be communion with God (Luke 11:13) -- that we have God, like a log absorbs fire into its very being until it changes its wood fiber composition into heat and light. In this way the log becomes more than itself; transformed into fullness of life. In the same way, Christians become more than themselves as they let God's Holy Spirit burn within them to will and to work his good pleasure.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Hosea 1:2-10
The first two chapters of the book of Hosea probably come from the early part of the reign of Jeroboam II (786-746 B.C.) in the northern kingdom of Israel, although Hosea's ministry likely extended until about 723 B.C. During Jeroboam's kingship, the life of Israel was permeated by the idolatrous worship of the fertility gods and goddesses of the Canaanites, to whom the Israelites looked for the nurture and sustenance of life. Such deities called baals were worshiped at various "high places," that is, cult sites, throughout the land, and it was believed that through the exercise of sympathetic magic the baals could be coerced into granting fertility to both the land and human beings. What was done in the people's worship on earth would be duplicated in the realm of the gods. Thus by committing sexual intercourse with male and female prostitutes at the high places, the people thought the baals would grant them fertile and good lives also. It was into this idolatrous and sinful situation that Hosea was sent by the Lord of all nature and history to deliver God's word.
The verses of our text come from a disciple of Hosea's, who recounts God's initial commands to the prophet, and the first command given is shocking indeed. Hosea is commanded by the Lord to marry a harlotrous woman, who has participated either continually or infrequently in baalistic prostitution. Some commentators do not believe that God would command such a marriage, and so they hold that Gomer was at first pure. But Gomer is the living symbol of Israel's harlotry with the baals, and Hosea's marriage to her serves as the symbol of God's marriage or covenant with unfaithful Israel. Three children are born of the union over a period of some five years, and each is given a symbolic name that tells what God is doing or will do with his covenant people.
The first child is called Jezreel, because earlier Jehu, the king of Israel, fostered the idolatrous worship of the fertility gods (2 Kings 10:29-31), which reached its climax under Jeroboam II. Hosea therefore prophesied that Israel would suffer a military defeat in the Valley of Jezreel, a defeat wrought by the armies of Assyria in 733 B.C.
The name of the second child is "Not Pitied." God announces by the symbol that he will no longer have tender, loving pity on his sinful folk, as he has so often had ever since the time of their enslavement in Egypt, when he saw their suffering and came down to deliver them (cf. Exodus 3:7-8). Now Israel's plight no longer awakens empathy in the Lord's heart, because they no longer love him as he has loved them through the centuries. (Verse 7 is considered by most scholars to be a later assertion, assuring Judah that her sole helper will be the Lord.)
The naming of the third child brings the passage to its climax. His name will be "Not my people," because Israel is no longer God's covenant people, and he is no longer their God. Throughout the Old Testament, the covenant formula is, "I will be your God, and you shall be my people" (Exodus 6:7; Leviticus 26:12; Jeremiah 7:23, 11:14, et al.). In those words, God pledged his everlasting bond with his covenant people, but Israel's unfaithfulness has caused the Lord to break the bond that only he can annul. He now divorces his "wife" (cf. 2:2), and abandons her to her impotent baal lover-gods, to whom she looks for life, but who cannot give her life or good.
The fact that the lectionary appends verse 10 to our reading for the morning mirrors our discomfort with the impact of this passage. Would God ever abandon his covenant people, who are now his Christian Church? Could he ever withdraw his pity for our inability to overcome our own sin and the forces of death? Can the Lord turn his back on us in a world such as ours -- a world of suffering and violence that we have made for ourselves? Verse 10 answers "no." A later insertion by the prophet, it speaks of the time in the future when God will once again fulfill his promises to his covenant people and take them back as his own. And that agrees with Hosea's later portrayal of the Lord, when God sobs out that he cannot surrender his people whom he has loved and will always love (cf. Hosea 11:8-9, part of our text for next Sunday). Similarly, it agrees with Hosea 3:1-5, when the prophet is commanded to seek out his divorced wife, Gomer, and to take her back to himself.
God's stern judgment -- fearful and destructive -- is never his last word, in Hosea or anywhere else in the scriptures. To be sure, God does bring his judgment upon us for our idolatry and sinfulness toward him. Let none of us ignore that message from Hosea, which is directed as much to us as to ancient Israel. But above all else, God's pity, God's mercy, God's love defines his character, and as foretold in Hosea's prophecy, God's faithful love for us forgives us through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and makes us his own. We do not ever deserve that love. We remain always unworthy of it. But nevertheless, while we are sinners, Christ lives for us, Christ dies for us, Christ is raised for us and we are God's people. And nothing can separate us from that love. The word from scripture for us is therefore, repent and believe that good news, and then live lives of gratitude and faithfulness because of it.
Lutheran Option -- Genesis 18:20-32
Our text forms a continuation of Genesis 18:1-19, in which three men appear suddenly at the door of Abraham's tent in the heat of the day, and in which one of the mysterious figures turns out to be the Lord. He promises Abraham that his aged wife Sarah will bear him a son in the spring of the year. But then the Lord also decides that for the sake of Abraham's instructions of his future descendants, he must reveal to Abraham what he is going to do about Sodom, that city at the southern tip of the Dead Sea that is now covered with water, but which bears the archaeological marks of a great catastrophe.
An outcry has come up to the Lord from Sodom (Gomorrah is not mentioned in the rest of the text). He therefore determines to investigate the cause of the complaint. Abraham fears for Sodom, however, because his nephew Lot dwells there. But primarily Abraham is interested in a theological question. Is the Lord's judgment such that he will destroy the righteous persons in Sodom along with the wicked (v. 23)? That would not be just, and Abraham is primarily interested in justice. "Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?" he asks. It seems like a question very similar to ours: "How could God do this to me? I've been a good person all my life. This is not fair! I don't deserve this!"
Abraham therefore engages the Lord in a conversation, in which he pushes the Lord further and further. If the Lord discovers 50 righteous people in Sodom, will he spare the city for their sake? Then 45, 40, 30, 20, 10? To what lengths will God go to spare the faithful? Noteworthy in the conversation, however, is Abraham's attitude. Though he realizes that he is questioning the Lord and Judge of all the earth, he acknowledges his unworthiness, stating that he is but dust and ashes and pleading with the Lord not to be angry with him. We could use more of that attitude when we set out to complain with God or even to speak to him. As God thundered to Job out of the whirlwind, "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?" (Job 38:2). We petty little ignorant human beings need to realize with whom we are speaking when we set out to question God.
And let's face it, friends. Not one of us deserves to be delivered from the judgment of God, because not one of is righteous, "no, not one" (Romans 3:10). All of us have fallen short from the persons God intended us to be, and were God to be totally just, we all would be condemned like Sodom. But contrary to Abraham's thinking in our text, God is not just. He is merciful. And so he declares to Abraham that if he finds just 10 righteous persons in Sodom, he will spare the city for their sake. According to the chapter that follows, there are not even 10 to be found in the evil city, and there are not 10 to be found among us either. But God in his overflowing mercy has spared us and promised us abundant and eternal life, not because there are 10 righteous among us, but one. And his name is Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God!
THE POLITICAL PULPIT
By Mark Ellingsen
Luke 11:1-13
Welfare reform and the working poor
The Gospel for today, in which Jesus teaches the Lord's Prayer, includes a reference petitioning for daily bread, which several venerable interpretive traditions regard as including the Christian's responsibility for feeding all in need. A sermon on that theme can give you cover from being heard as offering some liberal, new-fangled interpretation of Christ's perfect prayer.
And here's some supportive material:
* Regarding the Lord's Prayer, cite some of the language of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2831, or of Martin Luther's The Large Catechism, III, 4.
* Consider the economic facts regarding family and household incomes from 1970 to 1997 (the most recent year for which data is available). The proportion of American households making above $75,000 per year has more than doubled in this period (from 9 percent of the American families in 1970 to 18.4 percent in 1997). The rich are getting richer, and more Americans have become wealthy as a result of the economic good times.
* Counter the notion that the quarter-century of the study have been good years for the poor as well. True, the percentage of American families making under $10,000 decreased from 13.4 percent in 1970 to a still-too-high 11 percent in 1997. But those making only $10,000 to $14,000 annually increased from 7.5 percent in 1970 to 8.1 percent. The economic boom has decreased the underclass slightly, though not the working poor. And when one takes into account the inflationary spiral since 1970, an increase in those making less than $15,000 is hardly good news. The number of poor remains one-fifth of American households, and they are getting poorer.
A sermon on this theme may help you raise some hard questions about unqualified endorsement of the welfare reforms, kindling in your parish some sense that the church needs to do something in your community in response to the new realities. If nothing else, your parishioners' sensitivity to hearing the biblical mandate to care for the poor may be enhanced by exposing them to this data.
