Lent 3 B March
11, 2012
Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John
2:13-22
“Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves
to help ourselves.”
That is how our collect, or opening prayer for this Sunday
started out. That is a peculiarly un-Anglican statement, although it is a
statement of completely orthodox Christian theology. It’s like St. Paul: “For I
do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” It’s like
St. Augustine, reflecting that on that passage from Paul: “Who then should
deliver me from the body of this death, but your grace only, through Jesus
Christ our Lord?” [i]
Augustine devoted much of his writing to refuting the
thought of the followers of the British monk, Pelagius, who believed that we
did indeed have “the power in ourselves to help ourselves.” Pelagius thought
Christians were depending on the grace of God just to get themselves off the
hook, to live, as he regarded it, morally irresponsible lives. In modern words,
Pelagius would say:
God has given you free will. You can choose to follow the
example of Adam, or you can choose to follow the example of Christ. God has
given everyone the grace he needs to be good. If you are not good, you simply
need to try harder.[ii]
"Pelagius" is the Latin name for the Welsh monk, Morgan |
There are many times in my life when I have found this
“heresy” of Pelagius far more compelling than the orthodox theology of grace.
Pelagianism makes more sense when I am stewing over someone who has really
wronged me, over someone who has taken those 10 Commandments and cast them to
the wind, put his or her hands up, moaning with cheap repentance, with a
shallow restatement of Paul’s “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do
not want is what I do” line. Grace seems far too cheap for some people – but
wait. I’d better stop here, before I persuade you of what really is a central
distortion of how we understand how God works in the world. People do sin, and
yes, there are consequences, but the first, last and most powerful response of
God is grace, love and forgiveness.
So then, why do we need “the law” at all, if grace abounds? The
very un-Anglican John Calvin described the law as mirror, fence, and guide. The
mirror shows the harsh reality (what we have done, and left undone). The fence
restrains bad behavior – remember all of those Puritan “blue laws”? (Don’t buy
liquor on Sundays – or else!) Finally, Calvin’s image of the law as a guide for
living comes closest to how the faithful Jew understands the law, which, as we
sang in Psalm 19, is a delight and a joy. The heart of the law, for a Jew, is
the Sabbath, the goal of life is this day of rest, the time when all commerce,
all work, stop, when you refrain from doing anything else to change the world
God has created.
But the world we live in is very big, where the rules
society has us follow are not necessarily determined by God. Some people, and
we hear them on that endless news cycle, think we should “go back” to a whole
society living by God’s rules. Alas: it was never thus. Go back to those 10
Commandment times: the Jews were a tiny group, living in a big imperial sea.
They always had to live as a cell inside a larger and sometimes voracious
organism: the Egyptians, the Philistines, the Babylonians, the Greeks, the
Romans. The law was something profoundly counter-cultural, something which
indeed freed you from the tyranny of all those “-isms.” The law is holiness,
yes, but it is also justice. The 10 Commandments make it possible not only for
YOU to live the good life, but for your neighbor to live it as well. Biblical
scholar Walter Brueggemann says the Sabbath rest, the heart of the law is
… for self, for neighbor, and even for God … the goal and
quintessence of life….a kind of 'at-homeness' that precludes hostility, competition,
avarice, and insecurity…and anticipates a community of peace, well-being, and
joy.[iii]
Which is how we get to Jesus throwing the money-changers out
of the Temple. The law of the Lord is perfect – not a place for hostility,
competition, avarice and insecurity. The law is the mirror, the fence and the
guide: the money changers in the Temple jumped the fence long ago, they have
smashed the mirror and have forgotten the guide. Yesterday’s New York Times[iv]
ran an article about the national organization of religious congregations
taking their money out of banks, like the Bank of America, which profited
shamelessly from writing bad mortgages to people they knew could not pay them,
banks whose scandalous behavior tipped the economy into disaster with the foreclosure
crisis. Throw those money changers out of the Temple, Jesus would say. God’s
world was created with enough for everyone, with enough to go around. Part of
what happens during the Sabbath rest is that all of those goodies are
redistributed, and what Jesus was doing with all that ruckus in the Temple was
to announce that God’s true Sabbath was about to begin.
So, despite all those people who have wronged us, and made
us really mad, and committed all those crimes and misdemeanors, Pelagius is
wrong and Augustine is right. We are all enfolded in God’s grace after all, and
before all, and above all, and around all. No, we don’t have to do it
ourselves. We can throw the bums out, but there will be enough to go around for
them, too. We can forgive people who have wronged us, as we have been forgiven
by God, but we don’t have to reconcile with them. We don’t have to be their
best friends anymore; God’s grace will take care of that, too. We can be
enraged, as Jesus was enraged, but, like Jesus, we can lead Sabbath-filled
lives, knowing that there is enough for everyone – even enough grace – to go
around.
[iii]
Walter Brueggemann, from The Covenanted
Self: Explorations in Law and Covenant, quoted in Kathryn Matthews Huey, http://www.ucc.org/worship/samuel/march-11-2012-third-sunday.html
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