FOOLISH CHRISTIANS
Sermon
A Meal For The Road
14 Sermons On The Lord's Supper
Let me tell you about the late Japanese evangelist Toyohiko
Kagawa, by the world's standards one of the greatest of misfits!
He turned his back on a privileged life in a Buddhist home to
become a Christian evangelist among the poor and disreputable in
the slums of Tokyo. He made his mark, for though legally blind in
mid-life, Kagawa was as well known as E. Stanley Jones or Frank
Laubach. He displayed qualities of both, plus the eastern mind's
ability to plumb the mystical and spiritual depths. His written
meditations are still among the finest.
The dark side of all this is that when Kagawa turned his back
on his reputable Buddhist ancestry, he became an embarrassment,
and his timing, in terms of American war sentiment, made him
unacceptable here. So he became a man without a country -- a
misfit, an anachronism!
But Kagawa's trials, his experience of human rejection, gave
him empathy with the Paul of 1 Corinthians 1:17-19, and he
reflected:
A foolish Christian! The laughingstock of the world! I have spent
half of my lifespan as a foolish Christian.
27
All sorts of so-called worldly pleasures have slipped away from
me. I have spent half my life in a state describable as being
tied to a garbage can. Despised as a narrow-minded man and looked
down upon as a stubborn man, I have spent much of each day for
half a lifetime in tears.
When I was forced to take my stand at the foot of the cross,
summoned from a prideful, materialistic environment, my people
labeled me as a hypocrite, a member of a gang of traitors and
heathens. Even among my fellow Christians I am not always
welcome. I am excluded as a heretic, a socialist, a flippant man,
destitute of profound thoughts.1
How like Paul's description of his condition after his
conversion on the Damascus Road! Before that, Paul was a
successful young Pharisee, secure and upwardly mobile. Of his
life after his conversion, Paul says: In toil and hardship,
through many a sleepless night, in hunger and exposure, and,
furthermore, in constant anxiety over the state of these many
churches. -- 2 Corinthians 11:27-28
What kind of a result is that for people who have given so much?
But then we recall that it was not different for Jesus. His
life was as exemplary as we can imagine: faithful, obedient, and
self-sacrificing. However, he was not a success in the usual
sense of that word. To family and friends, he, too was a misfit
and an embarrassment. Jesus did not make his mark in life but in
suffering and death! For despite his powerful teaching and deeds,
he appeared weak and defenseless. People criticized him. He was
ridiculed and mocked. And his "kingship" was caricatured with a
crown of thorns and a purple robe. A cycnical sign was hung:
"Here is your King of the Jews!" (Matthew 27:37)
In those last hours, from the point of view of those who
passed by deriding him and the religious leaders who mocked
him, Jesus looked every bit of a failure! It is reported that his
closest friends were ashamed: one betrayed him, another denied
him, others ran for cover, and his enemies gloated.
As someone has rightly pointed out, any institution or
religion astute in public relations would have concealed such
facts about their founder. This is certainly not the way to make
followers and influence people! But, to the contrary, the gospels
document in great detail the insane contradictions in Jesus' life
and way. Even Paul, that exemplary church organizer, proclaimed
the embarrassment of Jesus' ill-fittingness:
For [while] the word of the cross is folly to those who are
perishing ... it pleased God through the folly of what we preach
to save those who believe ... God chose what is foolish in the
world's eyes to shame the wise, what is weak to shame what is
strong. -- 2 Corinthians 1:18-27
similarities to our contemporary Lenten Eve Mardi Gras. It was
called Fools' Feast. Apparently, on that day, parish priests and
ordinarily serious villagers put on outrageous masks, sang off-
color songs, and kept everyone awake with their hilarity! Bottom-
rung clergy adorned themselves in the regalia of bishops and
paraded the ceremony of church and palace. Victor Hugo in The
Hunchback of Notre Dame pictured the pitiable Quasimodo being
ceremoniously crowned as Fools' Pope during a Fools' Feast.
We might guess that Jesus' mother, Mary, would have been
greatly amused by such a day. For Mary envisioned the Lord
putting down "the mighty from their thrones and exalt[ing] those
of low degree!" (Luke 1:52)
One historian says of the Fools' Feast that it was a greatly
different kind of world on that one day -- one where the least
were first and accepted values were turned around. Fools became
kings and choirboys prelates. An upside-down world where the
unexpected happens was celebrated at Fools' Feast.
29
The Lord's Supper could be called a Fools' Feast. For here we
celebrate and announce the reversal of the world's values. The
honored host served and washed feet! We remember when we take the
bread and wine how Jesus' greatest victory was won in death. We
remember that his death was not the end but, in many important
ways, a beginning! Jesus would have the "last laugh."
It must seem odd to the world that we call a day full of
anguish "Good Friday." We do it because we perceive what looks
like a defeat becoming a phenomenal victory! We know that we have
gotten to Easter Sunday by passing through a "dark" Friday, so we
call it "good."
The world was longing for God to come powerfully and make
things right. However God came in weakness and agony to submit to
death on a cross. That is how God gets mankind on track again!
That's something the world has a hard time understanding, for it
is contrary to the way things usually get done. But God's ways
are above our ways, and God's weakness and foolishness are
greater than our so-called wisdom and strength. (1 Corinthians
3:19)
It is a pattern that we see repeated in our own day. We
remember how Soviet Communists wrote off celebrated physicist
Andrew Sahkarov as a misfit when he defected to the west in
protest of their view of the world as an abstraction, the worship
of power, and the attempt to reshape life. "I find it hard to
imagine the universe and human life without some guiding
principle, without a source of spiritual 'warmth' that is non-
material and unbound by physical laws, he wrote in his Memoirs.
Ironically, this misfit's articles were later featured in Science
and Religion (to the chagrin of the late Khrushchev, who founded
it in 1959 as part of his virulent campaign against religion)!
There is no question that could have come, predictably, in
power and strength to defeat injustice and evil. Instead, God
invites humanity to a table of reconciliation, a dinner for
misfits. "Both bad and good are guests," says one contemporary
communion hymn.
No one, surely, would criticize God for considering us rebels
and outlaws. But God chose not to do that. God opens this Table
to all who will rashly follow Jesus, one who was "despised and
rejected of man." (Isaiah 53:3) And behold, we are no longer
outlaws. God reaches out to us in compassion and grace, changing
us into "heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ, if so be that we
suffer with him." (Romans 8:17)
When we partake of what is sometimes called the Eucharist,
from the Greek eucharistia, meaning "gratitude," we remember with
thanks what God has done for us in happy anticipation of God's
promises to all people. Communion is an oath of allegiance to
God's reign. Eating the bread and drinking the cup from Jesus'
hand means giving ourselves to his "foolish" ways. It means
laying our lives on the line as a thankful offering of ourselves
to God. This we do, even if it looks crazy to the rest of the
world. "We are fools for Christ's sake," said Paul. (1
Corinthians 4:10)
Many might ask who in their right mind would choose to follow
a king who washes the feet of those who will "turn tail" when he
is arrested? What people with "all their marbles" would want to
take seriously the contrary ethics of Jesus: walking the second
mile, turning the other cheek, loving enemies, and embracing the
role of servant?
Such radical choices face us when we come to the Lord's Table.
But God helps us to choose the Jesus way of life and belief, with
all its risks and costs. No matter who we have been or how we
have been behaving, Jesus, unexplainably, persists in reaching
out to us. The Lord's Supper is a time to celebrate the life that
God poured out in love for our sake, a life that calls for
similar reckless sacrifice from us.
After enduring what he did as a Japanese Christian renegade
unacceptable on both sides of the globe, Kagawa wrote:
All that does not matter in the least, I am a captive of Christ.
I am a slave of the cross. I belong among the foolish. In other
words, I have just taken off on a journey to the Holy Mountain,
stark naked, throwing all earthly
31
things away. If it appears foolish to the eyes of other people, I
can't help it.2
It makes sense to avoid ridicule, but it is not Christ's way.
With him we do not ignore or escape what other faithful endure.
But we move, like Kagawa, toward the kingdom of God. Only then do
we live in confidence of a completed kingdom.
As we break bread and drink the cup, we recall and celebrate
Jesus' broken body and shed blood. And more: in hope we proclaim,
"Christ has died! Christ has risen! Christ will come again!"
Perhaps some will want to claim the benefits of that vision
without following Jesus' suffering in this life. They will miss
the assurance that the Table is able to give of a completed
kingdom, even as it empowers us to face the mockery, injustice
and suffering that accompanies walking with the servant of all.
Our confidence in God's emerging kingdom gives us the capacity
to endure the hardships of being "a foolish Christian."
So the Lord's Supper is a solemn and joyous feast for misfits
who are waiting for the miracle of being transformed into
children of God.
1-Kagawa, Meditations (Harper & Bros.) 1950, Med. No. 8.
2-Ibid.
32
Kagawa, by the world's standards one of the greatest of misfits!
He turned his back on a privileged life in a Buddhist home to
become a Christian evangelist among the poor and disreputable in
the slums of Tokyo. He made his mark, for though legally blind in
mid-life, Kagawa was as well known as E. Stanley Jones or Frank
Laubach. He displayed qualities of both, plus the eastern mind's
ability to plumb the mystical and spiritual depths. His written
meditations are still among the finest.
The dark side of all this is that when Kagawa turned his back
on his reputable Buddhist ancestry, he became an embarrassment,
and his timing, in terms of American war sentiment, made him
unacceptable here. So he became a man without a country -- a
misfit, an anachronism!
But Kagawa's trials, his experience of human rejection, gave
him empathy with the Paul of 1 Corinthians 1:17-19, and he
reflected:
A foolish Christian! The laughingstock of the world! I have spent
half of my lifespan as a foolish Christian.
27
All sorts of so-called worldly pleasures have slipped away from
me. I have spent half my life in a state describable as being
tied to a garbage can. Despised as a narrow-minded man and looked
down upon as a stubborn man, I have spent much of each day for
half a lifetime in tears.
When I was forced to take my stand at the foot of the cross,
summoned from a prideful, materialistic environment, my people
labeled me as a hypocrite, a member of a gang of traitors and
heathens. Even among my fellow Christians I am not always
welcome. I am excluded as a heretic, a socialist, a flippant man,
destitute of profound thoughts.1
How like Paul's description of his condition after his
conversion on the Damascus Road! Before that, Paul was a
successful young Pharisee, secure and upwardly mobile. Of his
life after his conversion, Paul says: In toil and hardship,
through many a sleepless night, in hunger and exposure, and,
furthermore, in constant anxiety over the state of these many
churches. -- 2 Corinthians 11:27-28
What kind of a result is that for people who have given so much?
But then we recall that it was not different for Jesus. His
life was as exemplary as we can imagine: faithful, obedient, and
self-sacrificing. However, he was not a success in the usual
sense of that word. To family and friends, he, too was a misfit
and an embarrassment. Jesus did not make his mark in life but in
suffering and death! For despite his powerful teaching and deeds,
he appeared weak and defenseless. People criticized him. He was
ridiculed and mocked. And his "kingship" was caricatured with a
crown of thorns and a purple robe. A cycnical sign was hung:
"Here is your King of the Jews!" (Matthew 27:37)
In those last hours, from the point of view of those who
passed by deriding him and the religious leaders who mocked
him, Jesus looked every bit of a failure! It is reported that his
closest friends were ashamed: one betrayed him, another denied
him, others ran for cover, and his enemies gloated.
As someone has rightly pointed out, any institution or
religion astute in public relations would have concealed such
facts about their founder. This is certainly not the way to make
followers and influence people! But, to the contrary, the gospels
document in great detail the insane contradictions in Jesus' life
and way. Even Paul, that exemplary church organizer, proclaimed
the embarrassment of Jesus' ill-fittingness:
For [while] the word of the cross is folly to those who are
perishing ... it pleased God through the folly of what we preach
to save those who believe ... God chose what is foolish in the
world's eyes to shame the wise, what is weak to shame what is
strong. -- 2 Corinthians 1:18-27
similarities to our contemporary Lenten Eve Mardi Gras. It was
called Fools' Feast. Apparently, on that day, parish priests and
ordinarily serious villagers put on outrageous masks, sang off-
color songs, and kept everyone awake with their hilarity! Bottom-
rung clergy adorned themselves in the regalia of bishops and
paraded the ceremony of church and palace. Victor Hugo in The
Hunchback of Notre Dame pictured the pitiable Quasimodo being
ceremoniously crowned as Fools' Pope during a Fools' Feast.
We might guess that Jesus' mother, Mary, would have been
greatly amused by such a day. For Mary envisioned the Lord
putting down "the mighty from their thrones and exalt[ing] those
of low degree!" (Luke 1:52)
One historian says of the Fools' Feast that it was a greatly
different kind of world on that one day -- one where the least
were first and accepted values were turned around. Fools became
kings and choirboys prelates. An upside-down world where the
unexpected happens was celebrated at Fools' Feast.
29
The Lord's Supper could be called a Fools' Feast. For here we
celebrate and announce the reversal of the world's values. The
honored host served and washed feet! We remember when we take the
bread and wine how Jesus' greatest victory was won in death. We
remember that his death was not the end but, in many important
ways, a beginning! Jesus would have the "last laugh."
It must seem odd to the world that we call a day full of
anguish "Good Friday." We do it because we perceive what looks
like a defeat becoming a phenomenal victory! We know that we have
gotten to Easter Sunday by passing through a "dark" Friday, so we
call it "good."
The world was longing for God to come powerfully and make
things right. However God came in weakness and agony to submit to
death on a cross. That is how God gets mankind on track again!
That's something the world has a hard time understanding, for it
is contrary to the way things usually get done. But God's ways
are above our ways, and God's weakness and foolishness are
greater than our so-called wisdom and strength. (1 Corinthians
3:19)
It is a pattern that we see repeated in our own day. We
remember how Soviet Communists wrote off celebrated physicist
Andrew Sahkarov as a misfit when he defected to the west in
protest of their view of the world as an abstraction, the worship
of power, and the attempt to reshape life. "I find it hard to
imagine the universe and human life without some guiding
principle, without a source of spiritual 'warmth' that is non-
material and unbound by physical laws, he wrote in his Memoirs.
Ironically, this misfit's articles were later featured in Science
and Religion (to the chagrin of the late Khrushchev, who founded
it in 1959 as part of his virulent campaign against religion)!
There is no question that could have come, predictably, in
power and strength to defeat injustice and evil. Instead, God
invites humanity to a table of reconciliation, a dinner for
misfits. "Both bad and good are guests," says one contemporary
communion hymn.
No one, surely, would criticize God for considering us rebels
and outlaws. But God chose not to do that. God opens this Table
to all who will rashly follow Jesus, one who was "despised and
rejected of man." (Isaiah 53:3) And behold, we are no longer
outlaws. God reaches out to us in compassion and grace, changing
us into "heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ, if so be that we
suffer with him." (Romans 8:17)
When we partake of what is sometimes called the Eucharist,
from the Greek eucharistia, meaning "gratitude," we remember with
thanks what God has done for us in happy anticipation of God's
promises to all people. Communion is an oath of allegiance to
God's reign. Eating the bread and drinking the cup from Jesus'
hand means giving ourselves to his "foolish" ways. It means
laying our lives on the line as a thankful offering of ourselves
to God. This we do, even if it looks crazy to the rest of the
world. "We are fools for Christ's sake," said Paul. (1
Corinthians 4:10)
Many might ask who in their right mind would choose to follow
a king who washes the feet of those who will "turn tail" when he
is arrested? What people with "all their marbles" would want to
take seriously the contrary ethics of Jesus: walking the second
mile, turning the other cheek, loving enemies, and embracing the
role of servant?
Such radical choices face us when we come to the Lord's Table.
But God helps us to choose the Jesus way of life and belief, with
all its risks and costs. No matter who we have been or how we
have been behaving, Jesus, unexplainably, persists in reaching
out to us. The Lord's Supper is a time to celebrate the life that
God poured out in love for our sake, a life that calls for
similar reckless sacrifice from us.
After enduring what he did as a Japanese Christian renegade
unacceptable on both sides of the globe, Kagawa wrote:
All that does not matter in the least, I am a captive of Christ.
I am a slave of the cross. I belong among the foolish. In other
words, I have just taken off on a journey to the Holy Mountain,
stark naked, throwing all earthly
31
things away. If it appears foolish to the eyes of other people, I
can't help it.2
It makes sense to avoid ridicule, but it is not Christ's way.
With him we do not ignore or escape what other faithful endure.
But we move, like Kagawa, toward the kingdom of God. Only then do
we live in confidence of a completed kingdom.
As we break bread and drink the cup, we recall and celebrate
Jesus' broken body and shed blood. And more: in hope we proclaim,
"Christ has died! Christ has risen! Christ will come again!"
Perhaps some will want to claim the benefits of that vision
without following Jesus' suffering in this life. They will miss
the assurance that the Table is able to give of a completed
kingdom, even as it empowers us to face the mockery, injustice
and suffering that accompanies walking with the servant of all.
Our confidence in God's emerging kingdom gives us the capacity
to endure the hardships of being "a foolish Christian."
So the Lord's Supper is a solemn and joyous feast for misfits
who are waiting for the miracle of being transformed into
children of God.
1-Kagawa, Meditations (Harper & Bros.) 1950, Med. No. 8.
2-Ibid.
32
