Why Call Me Lord ...?
Sermon
THE GREENING OF THE GOSPEL
SERMONS FOR ADVENT, CHRISTMAS AND EPIPHANY SUNDAYS 1-8 IN ORDINARY TIME)
Because of the continuing disagreement between Jesus and the Pharisees, it seemed certain that he had them in mind when he put the question: "Can the blind lead the blind?" Because the Gospels include so many instances of confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees, one might suppose that the Master had a bias against them. Such was not the case.
In the two centuries prior to the coming of Christ, the Pharisees, a respected elite of laymen, began to specialize in the interpretation of the law. They were popular with the masses. They became a growing force after the exile, when the temple priests lost favor with the people because of their collaboration with their conquerers. The Pharisees, on the other hand, were purists.
But by the time Jesus came upon the scene, the Pharisees were a diminishing influence. Though much of their theology was compatible with the theology of Jesus, the Pharisees were accused of building a fence around the law, with a vast tradition of interpretations. Their blindness was in their self-perception as defenders of the law. So they were always looking backward and inward. Jesus, on the other hand, said he came to "fulfill" the law. He was looking forward. Judaism in the first century, still smarting following the crushing defeat of the Maccabean rebellion, was depressed. Its leaders, religious and secular, were confused. They had acquiesced to the domination of Rome only because they seemed to have no other alternative.
The Pharisees were "blind" because they could not see or consider the invigorating religious leadership of Jesus. He was a threat to all they stood for. They were the guardians of tradition, in their judgment. Jesus, on the other hand, was the messianic agent of change. The blindness of the Pharisees was no worse than the blindness of thousands of Christian congregations today. Preoccupied with survival, the Pharisees rejected any form of ministry that disturbed the inert religious status quo. The Pharisees were involved in a systemic legalistic tautology as monotonous as a treadmill.
Verse forty lends itself to two interpretations. On the one hand, the diligent disciple may equal the excellence of his Master, but he cannot surpass him. But it is more plausible that this passage be compared to Matthew 10:24-25. In this case, it might be interpreted to mean that the faithful disciple may well expect the same fate as his Master. This then might be taken as a test to those professing loyalty to Jesus without calculating the risks.
Hyprocrisy and deceit were despised by Jesus. For this reason, he warned those who were quick to criticize and judge others. But Jesus did not mean to take away the right to make sound judgments about the intentions and performance of persons or systems. His warning is against pointing the finger of scorn at others without extending the thumb, on the same accusing hand, toward ourselves. That was the advice an old preacher gave me many years ago.
On the positive side, what Jesus had to say about the "mote" and the "beam" is a prime lesson in spiritual therapy. We all need to engage in periods of personal prayer and reflection, when we examine our attitudes, actions, and motives toward others. A deeply spiritual glimpse at ourselves in the mirror of God, usually reveals faults which need to be corrected.
This kind of spiritual introspection should be distinguished from self-flagellating guilt trips which bring on personal depression. We all have done things which we ought not to have done and left undone things which we ought to have done. But the acceptance of God's forgiveness and the enablement of God's grace provide us with the spiritual wherewithal to break loose from the shackles of past failure and seize the power to become all that God intends for us to be. Deeply spiritual seasons of self-examination should bring joyous deliverance and overcoming power to the true believer.
Jesus draws a distinction between a "good tree" and a "corrupt tree" to illustrate credible discipleship. What he says about fruit trees stirs in me memories of my childhood years on the farm on the eastern shore of Maryland, the place where I was born. In less sophisticated terms, I remember my grandfather making a distinction between a fruitful tree, defective tree and a barren tree. Fruitful trees yielded an abundance of attractive, tasty products. These, of course, were the healthiest. Defective trees bore limited quantities of fruit, but the produce was frequently malformed and blighted, insect-infested or diseased. A barren fruit tree may still bear leaves, but it is a dying tree. A diligent farmer may revive a defective tree and resurrect a dying tree. But a good farmer gives such continuing attention to all of the trees that their potential is maximized and they bear good fruits in abundance.
The Master's analogy encourages diligence in caring for the spiritual and practical aspects of our lives, and the lives of others. For if a person is truly good (fruitful) it is because his or her heart is good, that is to say, spiritually healthy.
In ancient Israel "heart" meant more than a biological organ of the body. Heart transplants and bypasses were unheard of in those days. The notion of replacing a human heart with a mechanical substitute would have been theologically confusing. The heart was considered the center of the psychic and intellectual personality. (Psalms 51:10; 143:4) It was the point at which humans made their contact with God. (Psalms 27:8; 28:7) Even more important, the heart was described as the essence of the person (Psalms 27:3; Genesis 17:17) The Hebrew analysis was based on the simple fact that as long as life was in the body, the heart was beating. When the heart stopped, life departed.
The multitude understood the Master's analogy. It was clear to them that the Gospel of Jesus called for complete personal dedication. We are all humbled by the Master's piercing interrogation: "Why call me 'Lord, Lord,' and do not the things I say?" Spectator discipleship is unacceptable, The Master demands transformed lives and action.
In the rabbinic tradition there is the saying that a man who has studied the law and done the works of the law is "likened unto one who has laid a foundation of stones and built upon them..." Jesus used a similar analogy to underline his twofold expectation. First, that one must hear, study and understand his teaching. Secondly, one's life and actions at specific times and at particular places, must demonstrate the practical consequences of the Gospel through redeeming words and deeds.
Frequently, we use the word "disciple" and "apostle" interchangeably. But the root meaning of each suggests a slightly different interpretation. The word "disciple," for example, is derived from the Latin "discipulus" from which the verb "discere," meaning "to learn," is derived. On the other hand, "apostle" is from the Latin "apostolus" and the Greek "apostolos," meaning "one sent forth: a messenger."
These two designations ought not be rigidly separated into hierarchical levels of distinction. Functionally, they represent the continuing intertwining process in the life of all true followers of Jesus: learning disciples, and apostles, acting upon what we have learned. This is like two sides of the same coin. Learning and acting upon what we learn is a lifelong occupation. The Holy Spirit is continually revealing the words, the ways and the means of grace whereby our lives may be productively fruitful day by day.
In the two centuries prior to the coming of Christ, the Pharisees, a respected elite of laymen, began to specialize in the interpretation of the law. They were popular with the masses. They became a growing force after the exile, when the temple priests lost favor with the people because of their collaboration with their conquerers. The Pharisees, on the other hand, were purists.
But by the time Jesus came upon the scene, the Pharisees were a diminishing influence. Though much of their theology was compatible with the theology of Jesus, the Pharisees were accused of building a fence around the law, with a vast tradition of interpretations. Their blindness was in their self-perception as defenders of the law. So they were always looking backward and inward. Jesus, on the other hand, said he came to "fulfill" the law. He was looking forward. Judaism in the first century, still smarting following the crushing defeat of the Maccabean rebellion, was depressed. Its leaders, religious and secular, were confused. They had acquiesced to the domination of Rome only because they seemed to have no other alternative.
The Pharisees were "blind" because they could not see or consider the invigorating religious leadership of Jesus. He was a threat to all they stood for. They were the guardians of tradition, in their judgment. Jesus, on the other hand, was the messianic agent of change. The blindness of the Pharisees was no worse than the blindness of thousands of Christian congregations today. Preoccupied with survival, the Pharisees rejected any form of ministry that disturbed the inert religious status quo. The Pharisees were involved in a systemic legalistic tautology as monotonous as a treadmill.
Verse forty lends itself to two interpretations. On the one hand, the diligent disciple may equal the excellence of his Master, but he cannot surpass him. But it is more plausible that this passage be compared to Matthew 10:24-25. In this case, it might be interpreted to mean that the faithful disciple may well expect the same fate as his Master. This then might be taken as a test to those professing loyalty to Jesus without calculating the risks.
Hyprocrisy and deceit were despised by Jesus. For this reason, he warned those who were quick to criticize and judge others. But Jesus did not mean to take away the right to make sound judgments about the intentions and performance of persons or systems. His warning is against pointing the finger of scorn at others without extending the thumb, on the same accusing hand, toward ourselves. That was the advice an old preacher gave me many years ago.
On the positive side, what Jesus had to say about the "mote" and the "beam" is a prime lesson in spiritual therapy. We all need to engage in periods of personal prayer and reflection, when we examine our attitudes, actions, and motives toward others. A deeply spiritual glimpse at ourselves in the mirror of God, usually reveals faults which need to be corrected.
This kind of spiritual introspection should be distinguished from self-flagellating guilt trips which bring on personal depression. We all have done things which we ought not to have done and left undone things which we ought to have done. But the acceptance of God's forgiveness and the enablement of God's grace provide us with the spiritual wherewithal to break loose from the shackles of past failure and seize the power to become all that God intends for us to be. Deeply spiritual seasons of self-examination should bring joyous deliverance and overcoming power to the true believer.
Jesus draws a distinction between a "good tree" and a "corrupt tree" to illustrate credible discipleship. What he says about fruit trees stirs in me memories of my childhood years on the farm on the eastern shore of Maryland, the place where I was born. In less sophisticated terms, I remember my grandfather making a distinction between a fruitful tree, defective tree and a barren tree. Fruitful trees yielded an abundance of attractive, tasty products. These, of course, were the healthiest. Defective trees bore limited quantities of fruit, but the produce was frequently malformed and blighted, insect-infested or diseased. A barren fruit tree may still bear leaves, but it is a dying tree. A diligent farmer may revive a defective tree and resurrect a dying tree. But a good farmer gives such continuing attention to all of the trees that their potential is maximized and they bear good fruits in abundance.
The Master's analogy encourages diligence in caring for the spiritual and practical aspects of our lives, and the lives of others. For if a person is truly good (fruitful) it is because his or her heart is good, that is to say, spiritually healthy.
In ancient Israel "heart" meant more than a biological organ of the body. Heart transplants and bypasses were unheard of in those days. The notion of replacing a human heart with a mechanical substitute would have been theologically confusing. The heart was considered the center of the psychic and intellectual personality. (Psalms 51:10; 143:4) It was the point at which humans made their contact with God. (Psalms 27:8; 28:7) Even more important, the heart was described as the essence of the person (Psalms 27:3; Genesis 17:17) The Hebrew analysis was based on the simple fact that as long as life was in the body, the heart was beating. When the heart stopped, life departed.
The multitude understood the Master's analogy. It was clear to them that the Gospel of Jesus called for complete personal dedication. We are all humbled by the Master's piercing interrogation: "Why call me 'Lord, Lord,' and do not the things I say?" Spectator discipleship is unacceptable, The Master demands transformed lives and action.
In the rabbinic tradition there is the saying that a man who has studied the law and done the works of the law is "likened unto one who has laid a foundation of stones and built upon them..." Jesus used a similar analogy to underline his twofold expectation. First, that one must hear, study and understand his teaching. Secondly, one's life and actions at specific times and at particular places, must demonstrate the practical consequences of the Gospel through redeeming words and deeds.
Frequently, we use the word "disciple" and "apostle" interchangeably. But the root meaning of each suggests a slightly different interpretation. The word "disciple," for example, is derived from the Latin "discipulus" from which the verb "discere," meaning "to learn," is derived. On the other hand, "apostle" is from the Latin "apostolus" and the Greek "apostolos," meaning "one sent forth: a messenger."
These two designations ought not be rigidly separated into hierarchical levels of distinction. Functionally, they represent the continuing intertwining process in the life of all true followers of Jesus: learning disciples, and apostles, acting upon what we have learned. This is like two sides of the same coin. Learning and acting upon what we learn is a lifelong occupation. The Holy Spirit is continually revealing the words, the ways and the means of grace whereby our lives may be productively fruitful day by day.
