Lust (That’ll get your attention)

Jesus said: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”

-Matthew 5:27, 28

After a break for the Christmas season, we’re back with weekly reflection on the Sermon on the Mount, taking it in small bits to see what Jesus has to teach us about being a disciple these days. And as promised, this morning we get to reflect on lust and adultery. Don’t worry (or don’t be disappointed): content is PG.

Those of us of a certain age will remember that Jimmy Carter, a president who actually read the Bible, referenced these verses during his 1976 campaign. He admitted that while he’d been true to Rosalynn, he did at some point have lust in his heart. For a culture that was probably not as biblically literate as he was, it triggered both outrage and ridicule. These days, his offense seems tepid, given that one of his successors was caught lying about an adulterous affair with an intern and another was caught on tape boasting about sexual assault.

Jimmy Carter, a committed disciple of Jesus who demonstrates indefatigable discipleship well into his nineties, seemed to appreciate that Jesus is saying that what matters is what is in your heart. It’s in our nature to look at notorious, egregious acts of sinners and say: “Thank God I’m not like that person.” Jesus told parables to that effect. Meanwhile, we can easily mask, or perhaps deny what’s in our own inner world.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is speaking to disciples, people closest to him, ostensibly spiritual/religious folks and not notorious outsiders. While Jesus affirms the law forbidding adultery, he takes it further. He says that one needs to look at where that kind of action comes from. That lustful heart regards other people as objects. It ignores mutuality and fidelity, virtues that are key to committed relationships. And it is never quite satisfied. If that lustful regard is in the heart, Jesus says it’s not all that different from committing that sin forbidden by the law.

Again and again, in this sermon and elsewhere, Jesus says that the bottom line is what’s in the heart. If we harbor hateful or lustful thoughts, that puts us in the same boat as those who act on them with murder or adultery. So there’s no need to get all worked up about someone else’s failings. It’s better to begin with a look inward and see where we are giving our hearts.

I don’t know about you, but I often feel powerless over my own hateful and lustful thoughts. I often regard folks as objects, wondering what they can do for me. I can let resentments get the better of me, which brings out the worst in me. Those resentments are often fueled by a willful unwillingness to extend forgiveness, and a bit of amnesia that the dark terrain of my heart needs forgiveness too. I can imagine the joy of getting revenge and indulging in schadenfreude. Basically, I need help. In the face of powerlessness, where do we go for that kind of help?

We’re in the Epiphany season now, a season about light shining in darkness, about coming to see things in new ways, about Jesus showing up to help. As we launch out on this new year, perhaps each day we could pray the Collect for Purity which kicks off our worship when we gather for eucharist (conveniently reprinted above). It asks God to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts. Perhaps we could pray with the psalmist, asking God to create in us a clean heart (also found above). Perhaps we can cut each other some slack, suspending judgmental perspectives on others, a particular challenge for religious people. And maybe we can give thanks for the wideness of God’s mercy, God who knows our innermost thoughts and loves us anyway. Feel like giving that a try this week?

-Jay Sidebotham

Good Book Club to start 2022 with Exodus

Start the new year with a renewed spiritual practice of reading God’s Word. Forward Movement, with support from partners from around the Episcopal Church and Anglican Communion, will celebrate the time of Epiphany with a new round of the Good Book Club by reading the first half of the Book of Exodus.

Exodus recounts the journey of the Israelites from slavery to freedom. We hear the great stories of Moses, from his discovery by Pharaoh’s daughter on the bank of the river to the burning bush to his presentation of the Ten Commandments. Along the way, we encounter God’s covenant and explore the grand theme of redemption.

This year, we have a bonus time of scripture engagement: the Good Book Club will dive into the first twenty chapters of Exodus from Epiphany, January 6, to Shrove Tuesday, March 1. For those who want to keep reading, we’ll offer a daily reading guide and an overview of the second half of Exodus. That reading period will conclude on Easter.

The full schedule, including the list of daily readings is available at www.goodbookclub.org.

Sign up to receive updates on Exodus.

Joining the Good Book Club is easy: Open your Bible and start reading!

Searching for joy: a poem in anticipation of Epiphany

If I could meet the magi, the question on my mind:
What made them take that road trip? What did they hope to find?

Assume their lives were comfortable. It paid well to be wise.
They spent their days at camel chase. At night they scanned the skies.

They knew the stars like back of hand. They’d studied well and hard.
Advanced degreed astrology, In school they got gold stars

Another way to ask it: What was it they were lacking?
Was there some royal restlessness that sent them westward packing?

One eastern night when moon was hid and stars were shining bright,
They wisely cast a glance above and spied a different light.

Next night the same, but brighter. Where did that star come from?
How could they have been missing it? And had it been there long?

Mounting camels, off they went following that light.
No need to go to mapquest. The star would steer them right.

I’m sure you’ve heard the gender jokes, how men can’t ask directions.
Not so for these astrologers: They made a course correction.

By calling on a colleague. King Herod, deemed much wiser.
They asked if he would point the way. He called in his advisers.

Who searched the scripture for a text to pass along to them
They told the Magi where to go “Head straight for Bethlehem”

We each are like the magi. I wonder if you know it.
(Though you may think it less than wise for priest to pose as poet)

Our lives become predictable. We live out our routines.
But then a light makes us look up and restlessness creeps in.

We realize then we’re seekers for things that fill the bill.
Will money make us happier? Relationships fulfill?

We sometimes shop at Herod’s (the king, and not the store)
To see if power fills that place. We’re always after more.

If we could just work harder. The next promotion reach.
If we could just act better. And practice what we preach.

We each are on a journey to find joy in our lives.
In many ways, we try to fill the gaps that life supplies.

What are you seeking in your life? Is search for joy your quest?
Have you a clue where it is found? Or where it’s best expressed?

A search for joy can lose its way when clouds obscure the star.
And pain of life can hide the light and then we don’t get far.

Our search for joy can get bogged down, get gridlocked spiritually
Our lives get in a traffic jam. There’s no green light to see.

We focus on what others have. But what we fail to do
Is seek for joy by looking up, by looking for what’s new.

What’s new is represented in Bethlehem’s young boy.
That’s where we find an answer if we’re really seeking joy.

Like those kings who made that trip and left their status quoing.
There’s new life to be found by all if we will start let going.

Let go. Let God. Our travel tip. Let star become the guide.
And know that when we take a step we go with God beside.

We each are on a journey that’s guided by the Spirit.
It sometimes is a bumpy road. It’s sometimes hard to steer it.

But the journey is a gift itself when made by me and you.
When traveling with other folks we come on something new.

A life we’d not expected. Grace that helps us cope.
A light that shines in darkness. Amid the cold night: Hope.

Community in loneliness. A place to bring our gifts.
A common spirit traveling. A star that spirits lifts.

It’s possible to travel far and never leave this place.
A journey of the spirit starts with one small step toward grace.

The biggest trek can be one step of welcoming God’s love.
Of worshipping with eyes raised up. That is the way we move.

Our world sure needs us magi. Needs wise folk seeking love
Who look beyond the glitter to see a star above.

So let’s head back 2000 years to what these magi teach us.
Across the miles, across the years their witnesses still reach us.

We find the magi traveling. The Exit: Bethlehem
They’re slouching in their camel seats. The next step’s up to them.

They’ve traveled far. They’re tired. They’ve quarreled just a bit.
Go right. Go left. Head north. Head south. But it was worth the trip.

For when they met the infant king, entitlement surrendered.
They offered gold, incense and myrrh, the best they had to tender.

The star they followed led them to the child they now adore.
The one they flood with presents has given them back more.

It all made sense, so quickly clear, the reason for those miles
The search for joy now ended with holy family smiles.

It all made sense in worship. They found it filled their needs
And when we worship Christ child king, our search for joy succeeds.

This ending a beginning. Move ahead they must
They headed home another way, left Herod in the dust.

Their story teaches lessons still, through years more than 2k
It teaches us to move ahead. Go home another way.

Go forward from the place you offered gift on bended knee.
Go forward to the journey next based on Epiphany

Go forward based on glimpse of light that guides when dark surrounds.
Go forward on your journey. There’s more joy to be found.

-Jay Sidebotham

Good Book Club to start 2022 with Exodus

Start the new year with a renewed spiritual practice of reading God’s Word. Forward Movement, with support from partners from around the Episcopal Church and Anglican Communion, will celebrate the time of Epiphany with a new round of the Good Book Club by reading the first half of the Book of Exodus.

Exodus recounts the journey of the Israelites from slavery to freedom. We hear the great stories of Moses, from his discovery by Pharaoh’s daughter on the bank of the river to the burning bush to his presentation of the Ten Commandments. Along the way, we encounter God’s covenant and explore the grand theme of redemption.

This year, we have a bonus time of scripture engagement: the Good Book Club will dive into the first twenty chapters of Exodus from Epiphany, January 6, to Shrove Tuesday, March 1. For those who want to keep reading, we’ll offer a daily reading guide and an overview of the second half of Exodus. That reading period will conclude on Easter.

The full schedule, including the list of daily readings is available at www.goodbookclub.org.

Sign up to receive updates on Exodus.

Joining the Good Book Club is easy: Open your Bible and start reading!

Tis the season

We’re going to take another week in this season of Christmas before we return to reflection on the Sermon on the Mount. While the culture has been celebrating Christmas since Labor Day, the church sees December 25^th as just the beginning, with a season of observance that lasts until January 6.

It’s a season filled with special feast days, and if you’re looking for more holly-jolly, you might be disappointed. We got a hint of this when we observed the Feast of St. Thomas, of doubting fame, right before Christmas (Dec. 21). And this week, there are a few special days that make us realize why we so desperately need good news of great joy which shall be to all people.

Today, we observe the feast of St. Stephen (as mentioned in the carol “Good King Wenceslaus”). Stephen’s story (not Wenceslaus’) is first told in the book of Acts. As one of the deacons of the church, one of the folks set aside by the church to address the needs of the poor, Stephen was the first martyr of the church. St. Paul was cheerleading those who stoned Stephen to death.

Tomorrow, we observe the feast of St. John, apostle and evangelist, who by tradition was exiled to the Isle of Patmos. Though he seems to be the only one of the twelve disciples that didn’t give his life for the sake of the gospel in some gruesome, violent way, he had his own experience of persecution. That may have made the book attributed to him, the Apocalypse (a.k.a, the book of Revelation) all the more vivid.

Day after that comes the feast of the Holy Innocents, which marks the day when King Herod put all two year old boys in Bethlehem to death. I will always remember doing a funeral on this day for an 8-year old boy who died of brain cancer. I loved that kid. The feast reminds us that the suffering of innocents continues. Why is it so often the children who bear the brunt, especially the brunt of foolish and heartless political leaders?

Later in the week, we observe the feast of St. Thomas a Becket, that troublesome priest that King Henry II wanted to get rid of. The king thought he had succeeded when murder took place in the cathedral. Of course, Thomas is remembered with reverence. Henry, not so much.

And then comes a lesser known feast as we recall the life, ministry and witness of Frances Joseph Gaudet, an African American woman born in Mississippi in 1861 (just those facts indicate a challenging life). She dedicated her life to prison reform, coupled with provision of education for those who would otherwise not receive it. Her death in 1934 marked the conclusion of a life dedicated to prisoners, a reminder that our culture that seems to think the solution lies in mass incarceration needs to hear the good news of the liberating love of Jesus.

I’m not sure what the thinking was way back when to fill the Christmas season with these stories reflecting the challenges that mark the human condition. It’s a season filled with martyrs, a word which is loaded in our culture. We often think of a martyr as some unattractive, whining self-righteous person who says something like “Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here in the dark corner by myself.” But martyr means witness, someone who shows that the good news of Jesus, the news of that loving, life-giving, liberating Lord is news of greatest value, more valuable than life itself. That’s news we all need to hear.

Maybe your life is free of challenge. Maybe you’ve had no encounter with the hard heartedness of our world and its people. Bless you if that’s the case. But if you’re like most of us, you know that life is difficult, that there’s a crack in everything God has made. The Christmas season tells us that that is where the light can shine through.

Of course, saints lived not only in ages past. There are hundreds of thousands still. And we lost one of the great modern saints in this Christmas season. Desmond Tutu showed us what it meant to meet the ugliness and injustice of our world with love and joy. He countered the love of power with the power of love. May God grant him peace as the Archbishop sought to bring peace to the world. And may God grant comfort to those who mourn, and to those who look for others to continue the fight against injustice.

Each of these saints call us to be witnesses of the light this week, which comes to us with grace and truth. Perhaps we can resolve to be that kind of witness in the coming year, in the new year, in all the days ahead.

What might that look like in your life?

-Jay Sidebotham

Good Book Club to start 2022 with Exodus

Start the new year with a renewed spiritual practice of reading God’s Word. Forward Movement, with support from partners from around the Episcopal Church and Anglican Communion, will celebrate the time of Epiphany with a new round of the Good Book Club by reading the first half of the Book of Exodus.

Exodus recounts the journey of the Israelites from slavery to freedom. We hear the great stories of Moses, from his discovery by Pharaoh’s daughter on the bank of the river to the burning bush to his presentation of the Ten Commandments. Along the way, we encounter God’s covenant and explore the grand theme of redemption.

This year, we have a bonus time of scripture engagement: the Good Book Club will dive into the first twenty chapters of Exodus from Epiphany, January 6, to Shrove Tuesday, March 1. For those who want to keep reading, we’ll offer a daily reading guide and an overview of the second half of Exodus. That reading period will conclude on Easter.

The full schedule, including the list of daily readings is available at www.goodbookclub.org.

Sign up to receive updates on Exodus.

Joining the Good Book Club is easy: Open your Bible and start reading!

So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

-Matthew 5:23-26

I’m told that this passage from the Sermon on the Mount provides scriptural basis for the exchange of the peace in our liturgy. In that liturgy, the sequence is clear. Before we can come to the table to receive bread and wine, we need to come to reconciliation with each other. So we exchange the peace before the offertory.

Covid has made us rethink this part of the liturgy, not only how we exchange the peace and remain socially distant. Covid has also made us think about what it means. That’s a good thing. What used to involve handshakes, hugs and even the kiss of peace has morphed into a long distance wave or bow or peace sign. This sits just fine with some. I remember a story about the reintroduction of the peace in one church some years ago. (It hasn’t always been part of the liturgy.) An earnest young parishioner turned to a mink-clad matron in the same pew, extended his hand ready to exchange the peace. She looked down her nose at him and said: “Don’t even think about it.”

What I’ve been thinking about this week is the fact that we exchange the peace of the Lord, and not our own peace. It’s the peace gracefully given to us by God. If I was exchanging the peace of Jay, it would probably be extended only to those I like, or those who agree with me on issues. I’m guessing it might be withheld from those who don’t fit in those categories.

But one of the distinctive (and occasionally annoying) things about the community that follows Jesus is that we don’t get to pick who gets in, who we are called to serve alongside, or who turns up in the pew with us. We sure don’t participate in a community of agreement. We enter into a community where there are people who drive us nuts, people who push our buttons, people who view life differently. Often those are the people who have the most to teach us.

In this sermon, Jesus teaches that his followers (you and me, folks) are to do the work of reconciliation with all of those folks, even and especially the irritating ones. Invariably we are going to hurt each other, as we note in the confession when we declare: “We have not loved neighbor as ourselves.” It doesn’t say if we have done that. It assumes we have, and that we do, and that we will. Our work is cut out for us. It involves taking inventory and making amends, thinking about ways, witting and unwitting, that we have caused injury, and asking forgiveness.

There is also injury that comes in interactions that leave us resentful. As we reflect on those who have injured us, we may refuse to forgive them, a violation of Jesus’ teaching in the Lord’s prayer and elsewhere. When that happens, in a way we are inflicting injury on our relationship with those folks. Injury evokes injury. When we savor resentments (they can be quite delicious), treat them like trophies (we can regard them as precious), we are injuring others, and souring our soul.

Between the injuries we inflict and the resentments we harbor, it’s a wonder any of us ever make it to the altar. In all of our relationships, I hear Jesus saying: Be reconciled. It matters, because our relationship with God, including our worship, is hampered by the brokenness of our relationships with each other. Jesus tells us that the two can’t be separated.

That’s why it’s important that we exchange the peace of the Lord, and not the peace we muster on our own. Our own capacity for peacemaking is too shallow, too compromised. As the letter to the Ephesians says, Christ is our peace, breaking down dividing walls. We are asked, week after week, to remember that we are always on the receiving end of amazing grace. As we await the arrival of the prince of peace, think about the ways you can exchange the peace with those in your life, the ways you can be reconciled. How might you approach that this week and in this holy season?

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

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You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.

-Matthew 5:21-22

As I reflect on these verses from the Sermon on the Mount, I hope you will be relieved to know that I have never been charged with murder. But the truth is that I have been angry with a brother or sister (widely defined). In my own way, I have insulted the same. And there have been way too many times when I’ve at least thought someone was a fool, apparently making me liable to the hell of fire.

If Jesus was preaching this sermon today, he might refer to road rage. I have often yelled at some idiot driver. (My windows rolled up, of course, and without my clerical collar.) I would never speak that way to someone in the car with me.

If Jesus was preaching this sermon today, he might say something about social media, how easy it is to take off with dismissive language about someone else. In both the cases of road rage and social media, what is lacking is relationship (let alone compassion or empathy) with the person who has set us off. That lack of relationship can often reveal darker, toxic tendencies.

When Jesus says those things are somehow equivalent to murder, I can chalk it up to ancient near eastern hyperbole. But that misses the point, in many ways. Jesus is probing our hearts, to see where there might be murderous, hateful intent. The crowd knew the law which spoke against murder. For the most part they could say: Haven’t done that. But Jesus wants to go deeper, to say that what matters is the intent in our heart. Though we may keep it well hidden, there can be toxicity there.

If we are taking this bit of the Sermon on the Mount seriously, taking it to heart, we have to begin by admitting that we may harbor dark intentions. It’s amazing how they can even come up even among religious folks. I’m always struck that the first murder recorded in the Bible, when Cain killed his brother, was really a fight about worship. You could say it was a church fight. Once we’ve admitted that, what are we to do about it?

In today’s heated political climate, I’ve been praying about the toxicity in my own spirit towards folks who see things differently than I do. There’s a lot of hateful rhetoric being thrown around. It’s easy to respond in kind, to become what we judge.

I’ve received a couple answers to those prayers recently.

One answer came in a book I just finished called Saving Grace by journalist Kristen Powers. Give it to yourself as an early Christmas gift. The subtitle captures the aim of the book: Speak your truth. Stay centered. And learn to coexist with people who drive you nuts. I admit that subtitle may sound like mere tolerance. Her counsel is more profound than that. She speaks about how important it is to practice grace. You can get a sample of what she is up to in the column on the left.

Another answer came in a recent RenewalWorks call focused on how we can learn about prayer. A rector spoke about what she shares about prayer with her congregation. She explores a variety of ways to teach about prayer in a series of 2 minute videos. She shared one in which she speaks about praying the news. As she reads the paper, instead of fuming or despairing, she prays for the situation, including prayers for those who drive her nuts.

Finally, we can always go to the baptismal covenant, which calls us to answer these questions: Will we seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving neighbor as self? Will we respect the dignity of every human being? Note that they don’t say seek and serve Christ in all Episcopalians, or people who agree with us, or Americans, or liberals, or conservatives? Same with the dignity piece. We are called to an expansive love, which recognizes the centrality of a relationship with God and with each other.

Jesus came to give us a clean heart, to give us his heart. As we get ready for his arrival at Christmas, may we be given grace to practice grace. What will that look like for you this week?

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

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Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.  For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

-Matthew 5:19-20

When I embarked on a journey through the Sermon on the Mount, I knew there would be Mondays that would leave me saying, “Huh?” Today’s one of those days.

Let’s get right to it, with that bit about righteousness exceeding that of the scribes and Pharisees. As I scanned commentaries, I found I’m not the only one who finds this perplexing. The whole narrative of the gospels seems to be that the scribes and the Pharisees, the really religious people of the day are clueless. (Let’s just say I hear that as a caution to those of us who serve as clergy.) Little children and promiscuous persons and tax collectors and outsiders have more understanding of the kingdom than religious leaders. Is Jesus saying that we need to try to be more righteous than the scribes and Pharisees, whose hypocrisy is in plain view? Are we supposed to follow their script when Jesus has called them blind guides and whited sepulchers? That’s one possibility.

Another possibility is that Jesus is asking disciples to consider these questions: What race are you running? In what stream are you swimming? What do you think will get you where you want to go? What do you value?

If you want to play the scribes and Pharisees game, which is to try to get your theology right, try to get your practice right, try to cross every “t” and dot every “i”, to never make a mistake, go for it. But that’s a big mountain to climb, that teeth-gritting effort to be a spiritual super-hero. Trying to make sure we get it all right can be a rat race and it’s been noted that the problem with winning a rat race is that at the end, you’re still a rat. We can enter into that kind of righteous rat race, if we so choose. It can all be so exhausting.

But there is another way, which in my mind is what the Sermon on the Mount is laying out for us. That way says that the way to the righteousness of spiritual over-achievement is simply the way of love (which is the commandment Jesus embraces). It begins with understanding righteousness not so much as a moral checklist as a matter of relationship, being rightly related. And that way (St. Paul called it a more excellent way in the lead-in to his hymn about love in I Corinthians 13) exceeds the righteousness of scribes and Pharisees. By way of a sneak preview, the verses we’ll look at in the coming weeks talk about lives lived in righteousness. Jesus says it’s not as much a matter of outward actions as it is a matter of the heart that sets us in right relationship with God and with each other.

If this is indeed what Jesus had in mind (and folks, I could be wrong), then we are called to pursue a righteousness that comes by faith in the power of God’s grace to make us what we were created to be. It begins by recognizing that we can’t do this on our own, by our own willfulness. We need help because we will fall short. It continues with expressions of gratitude (which we observed over the past weekend) that it’s not all up to us. We will with God’s help. And then it finds expression in the practice of love of God and neighbor, the two being inseparable, the two commandments that sum up all the law, even the least of the laws. That practice is a reflection of the grace that has been shown to us. When we all get around to that kind of practice, I imagine that is what the kingdom of heaven will be like.

Give it some thought, give it a shot this first week of Advent.

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help the folks in your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

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Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.

-Matthew 5:17-18

In discussions in church, I often run across the opinion that the God of the Old Testament underwent some kind of personality change in the New Testament. That’s based on associations people have with some stories of the Hebrew Scriptures, where God seems to resemble Zeus throwing lightning bolts down on unsuspecting earthlings, or perhaps a more recent image, a Gary Larson cartoon where God is depicted sitting at his computer. On the screen, we see that a street scene. A rope lifting a grand piano has snapped. The Steinway, plummeting earthward, is about to smash a pedestrian. God is pressing the smite button on his keyboard. Does that ever fit your image of God?

No doubt about it, there is judgment in the earliest books of the Bible. But there is also judgment in the New Testament (Have you read some of Jesus’ parables of judgment, or the Book of Revelation recently?) And while the God of the New Testament is associated with grace and mercy, there is plenty of grace and mercy to be found in the Hebrew Scriptures, surfacing in the oft-repeated word hesed which means lovingkindness.

All of which is to say that we often pit grace and law, mercy and judgment against each other. Our faith seems to be either about rules or relationship, about laws or love. You can have one or the other. Our proclivity for dualistic thinking tells us you can’t have it both ways. But Jesus shows us another way.

As we continue reflection on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, we can imagine listeners, including critics, imagining that he was trying to scrap tradition. In today’s verses, he makes the point that he comes to fulfill the tradition, not abolish it. Fulfillment is the keyword.

We get a glimpse of what he meant by it when he was asked about the most important commandment. Jesus didn’t come up with some new-fangled vision. He returned to the first pages of the Bible to find that all the law and prophets is summed up in grace, in love of God and neighbor.

It is apparently easy for religious folks to turn the law into a matter of rules, and thus a source of division, using the law as a bludgeon. Jesus chooses another way, as he speaks about embracing the law given by Moses. He says that those laws are key to the healing of our souls, and the healing of the world. Those laws (the word teaching may be a helpful synonym for law) given by God, we’re all about helping people, coaching people, leading people in the way of love. And when those laws seemed to butt up against each other (e.g., when Jesus is led to heal long-term illnesses on the Sabbath), the law of love and compassion takes precedence. Lord knows we could use that kind of guidance in the wilderness of our broken world.

So what’s the so-what factor in all of this? Religious rules are ultimately about relationship. When they divide us, or damage relationship, the law is not fulfilled. But even the nit-pickiest, most persnickety religious rule can be seen as an expression of love of God and neighbor and self. When that happens, we see the law fulfilled.

Sure, we can turn our faith, our religious practice, the scripture, even a theology of grace, into something that divides people, into a source of pride. But Jesus calls us to see everything we do through the lens of love of God and neighbor, a fairly rigorous standard (perhaps even a law) which turns out to be a pretty good way to look at the world. It’s a good lens to regard our religious practice, whatever that may be, to think about how we put faith to work in the world, as a response to God’s call to the way of love. It’s a good lens to bring into this week when we’re asked to think about thanksgivings. How will you be a follower of Jesus, fulfilling the law?

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help the folks in your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

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You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

-Matthew 5:14-16

Jesus doesn’t say: Try to be the light of the world. You ought to be the light of the world. You better be the light of the world. He offers a declarative, unequivocal statement. A statement of fact to his followers. This is who you are. So be who you are.

Do you feel like a light this morning? I often feel like a dim bulb, stumbling in the dark. That makes it hard to believe that I can provide light for anybody else. Not enough wattage.

But Jesus says let the light that you have shine. Not so that people will say: What a great person that guy is! Our lights are meant to point beyond ourselves to an experience of God (see bit about John the Baptist above). Our lights are meant for people to see good works and by the light of those good works, to have a sense of the glory of God.

What do we know about the glory of God? In reflection on these verses, I kept thinking about St. Irenaeus, who, in the second century said that the glory of God is the human being fully alive. We shine a light on the glory of God when we live fully into what God has called us to do and be. Jesus said that he came to bring life and to bring it in abundance (John 10:10). Our good work is to live into that abundant life, to love God and love neighbor, to be fully alive in a world where powers of death are strong. The letter to the Romans (6.11) speaks about how we formerly were dead to sin. The letter to the Ephesians (2.1) says we were dead in trespasses but are made alive in Christ by grace.

So we, beloved children of God, objects of grace, are called to let that light shine, not because we’re so awesome ourselves (though you are a great group of readers) but because God is awesome. We can be light because Jesus is light.

Of course, that old ego (You know that ego is really an acronym for edging God out) finds its way into our psyche, into our hearts. I find it almost impossible to avoid self-consciousness about good works. (How lucky God is to have me on the team!) When I become aware of a good work, the next step often can be to compare and contrast with others, asking why don’t those folks do the kind of good works I do? Why don’t they care about causes I care about? What’s wrong with those spiritually deficient folks? The good works clearly can become fertile ground for the most unattractive qualities of religious folk

But thanks be to God, All Saints’ Day is still fresh in mind. I love the phrase from the Prayer Book that speaks about saints as lights in their generation. For all the saints (i.e., all of us) have light to share, as I often hear at the end of yoga practice, where the teacher will say some version of the following: The light in me sees and honors the light in you. How will you let your light shine so that people can see something of God’s activity, so that people can come to understand something of the love of God, the grace of God, the glory of God? How will you live into that call to reveal the glory of God by being fully alive this week?

Here’s what I propose for this Monday morning: Confess that there are always mixed motives. Our light can flicker. Get over that and then think about how your own life can point to the glory of God, how you can let your light shine this week.

You are the light. Be the light.

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help the folks in your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

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You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

-Matthew 5:13

After a talk I gave at a church on the topic of spiritual growth, a woman confessed: “I don’t know why all this talk about spiritual growth and transformation. I don’t expect anything to happen to me at church.” As I thought about her comment, I recognized that many people come to church to be comforted, to experience solace, to heal the wounds the world inflicts. In an unsettled world, many people seek stability, constancy, predictability. All good reasons. But maybe not the whole story.

Because if ever there was a change agent, it would be Jesus. He repeats metaphors about growth. He calls his disciples to follow him, not to stay put. He comes offering new life, abundant life and he invites his followers to participate in that process. Which brings us to the salt metaphor which he uses in the Sermon on the Mount.

Over the years, the phrase “salt of the earth” has come to mean what? A mensch? The real deal? I don’t know exactly what Jesus had in mind with the image, but I think of all the properties of salt. It heals and cleanses. It preserves. It melts coldness. It makes stuff taste better. In Jesus’ culture, it was highly valuable. It makes life more interesting. Put all that together, and whatever Jesus had in mind, it seems that transformation is intended. His disciples were meant to bring growth, to bring change to their contexts, to make life more interesting, more appetizing, more healing. To make a difference.

So this morning, take this opportunity to look in your own spiritual rear-view mirror. How over the course of your life have you been transformed? Compare your spiritual life this morning to where you were spiritually five years ago, ten years ago, twenty years ago. Are you in the same place? Have you changed? How so? What were the catalysts for that change?

Then think about whether you expect to be changed now. Are you open to the possibility that God has something new in store for you? That you can keep on growing? One church that was identified as being a particularly complacent crafted this tongue-in-cheek tagline: “We’re spiritually shallow and fine with that.” The call of the gospel is to keep on growing. As disciples, we are learners, and there is always more to learn.

Finally, think about how you might be that agent of change in your own context. What are the opportunities for you to be a healing, cleansing agent? What opportunities are there for you to preserve? What opportunities are there for you to melt coldness of heart? What opportunities are there for you to simply make life more interesting for the sake of those around you?

When I was serving as a rector, someone once asked me: “If tomorrow morning your church disappeared from your community, would anyone notice? What would be the difference?” We can ask that about our faith communities. We could ask that about the impact we have as individuals. Jesus calls us to be salt in a world that is hungry, hurting, calling for healing, preservation, interest. How will you live out that kind of saltiness?

-Jay Sidebotham

Ready to help the folks in your congregation refocus on their spiritual journeys?  Join our January cohort of RenewalWorks participants…

The mission of RenewalWorks is to help churches (and individuals in them) refocus on spiritual growth and identify ways that God is calling them to grow. Now is a great time to engage this process and chart the course forward. We would love to help you on that journey. Contact us if you would like to learn more about RenewalWorks, or if you have other thoughts and ideas about fostering spiritual growth as we emerge from the pandemic.

RenewalWorks – Digital Catalog