8/24/03         Why Stay?     John 6:66-69, Ephesians 6:10-20; 1 Kings 8:27-30

How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb? Ten. One to change it, and nine to say how much better the old one was.

 

Usually when we imagine the Jesus story the people are clamoring to see him and to hear him and to follow him and you get the impression that the crowds grew each day until all the eye could see were people coming to Jesus. All that was needed was the good news, simple and bold, and they would come. If this is how it really was, the church-growth people would love it. If this fantasy could be parlayed into our times, Jesus would have blow-dried hair and wear a $1000 suit. There would be vast armies of Christians just to park the cars and there would be parking for everybody and Christianity would be an unqualified success, success that is measured by attendance whether it ever does anything good in the world or not. In this vision, all Christians would be rich and have above average children and would be always cheerful about everything. No problem except that in today's gospel reading the people are not coming they're leaving. Not everybody decided to follow Jesus. Not everybody was happy. Not everything was perfect. Not even for Jesus. Especially for Jesus. Some were turning away and leaving. Why?

 

There is much speculation about this as you might imagine but I don't think it is really so hard to understand if we get in touch with the reality of what Jesus was saying. Some think it was the idea of the body and blood that offended people. I think it is more likely that it is not the metaphor used whether it was taken literally or not that bothered people it was the demand that those who follow Jesus must share his death. In other words the message is that if you want to follow Jesus where he is going we must live sacrificially, must put others before ourselves, must die to self-interest, to having our own way, must live a life of service and humility, must give ourselves away. Love lays its life down for others. These are not easy word in any time or place. Once understood what is expected it shouldn't surprise anybody that some are going to back off, even turn away. When someone says you must die in order to live, these are hard words. As one of the disciples said, who can accept it? It may in fact be the difference between those who leave and those who stay. Those who stay have seen the truth in these words and those who leave have not. Life is gained not by taking whatever you can get but by giving all you have.

 

How many light bulbs does it take to change a Christian?

All you have.

 

Jesus was also changing the rules. Change makes a lot of people uncomfortable, even angry. Religious rules are supposed to lead us to God but sometimes the rules themselves become like gods. When this happens they no longer lead us to God but block our way to God. This is a simplistic way of describing what I think Jesus was about when he healed on the Sabbath day or when he said that it is not what you put in your body that matters so much as what you do and say. The greatest commandment is love he said and love is the point of the rules. You might think that this would be something everybody would want to hear but the truth is that love requires responsibility and sacrifice. Worse than that, you have to think about everything. The question changes from what does the book say is right or wrong to how is love served in this situation and how does it relate to what the book is saying love is?

 

How many United Methodists does it take to change a light bulb?

United Methodists do not have a set policy at this time for changing light bulbs but if you should feel called to change a light bulb we will provide resources and support for the journey.

 

Now Jesus was changing more than the rules. He was challenging the way we do things. Some think he was subversive. The writer to Ephesians got the joke I think even if it wasn't funny and his words are quite serious: our struggle is against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness. . . And with what are they to stand against such a formidable foe not to mention the mighty Roman army? A belt of truth, a breastplate of righteousness, sandals of peace, a shield of faith, a helmet of salvation, and a sword of the spirit.  (Are these people crazy?) He knew that the people to whom he was writing saw helmets and breastplates and shields and swords every day. As one wag had it, Rome didn't always speak softly, but it (did carry) a big stick. When the writer of this letter to the Ephesians told the Christians to get their armor on and get ready for battle he knew very well they were not going to be battling the Romans or anyone else with swords. They had some thing far more powerful. We call it the truth. The truth may seem illusive and manipulated by whoever is naming it at the moment but make no mistake the truth is the truth and the truth is what is and it has a way of making itself known eventually if not immediately. What is true is not true just because I say it is or you say it is or somebody else says it is. What is true is true because it is true and no matter how many lies we tell even to ourselves, whether deliberately or from ignorance, what is true will have the final word. To further the irony, it is the truth of course that is the first casualty of war. This is clearly a different kind of war we are talking about where people are healed rather than brought home in body bags or dumped in mass graves. The message is clear about the nature of power. Real power does not belong to the one with the biggest sword but rather to the one who speaks the truth in justice and love. This would have felt a little different to those Christians in Ephesus who were indeed facing real and nasty swords with their swords of the spirit and Christians like us who are protected by the biggest swords yet but the message is the same. The power of the sword is certainly real and may seem to hold sway for a time but in the end the sword joins the dust of every other failed effort to resist God. It turns out that might does not make right but, just the opposite, right makes might. This is a truth that we dare not ignore as those who have more swords than anybody else. Those who have the might bear the burden of doing what is right and it is not right just because we do it or because it serves our self-interest at the expense of the common good. Ironically, the more might anyone has the harder it is to do what is right. I am not saying that we are always wrong just that we are not always right.

 

How many Americans does it take to change a light bulb?

As many as we want.

 

Of course there were also disagreements among those who would follow Jesus and how his words would be understood and what it actually meant people should do and disagreements about who would be in charge and decide these things. Disagreement is easy. We do it all the time. There has to be some disagreement of course until we get it right but some people just don't like disagreeing or feel that they never seem to have their way in the decisions and solutions so they leave too. Others are just disagreeable. (Sometimes they stay.) There are lots of reasons to leave. Why, one wonders does any one stay? Why stay when it would be so easy to leave? Jesus' question of the day is abundantly clear: Do you also wish to go away? Peter's answer is pretty good. To whom would we go? The scriptures tell us that many left. It doesn't tell us where they went. Did they find something better than what God had offered in Jesus? Have you? Today we might have a few more options than Peter. There are any number of paths to follow but the question is still relevant. It is the question each of us must answer: To whom would we go?

 

John Ortberg, writing in the Christian Century says that Peter's answer  reminds him of  Winston Churchill's famous description of democracy as the worst form of government except for all the other forms of government that have ever been tried. Peter didn't answer the question directly like with a plain yes or no. He answered in the style of his master with yet another question. It is a good question, one with legs as we say. Where would we go? And why do we stay?

 

Jim Wallis writes that when the south African government canceled a political rally against apartheid, Desmond Tutu led a worship service in St. George's Cathedral. The walls were lined with soldiers and riot police carrying guns and bayonets, ready to close it down. Bishop Tutu began to speak of the evils of the apartheid system- how the rulers and authorities that propped it up were doomed to fail. He pointed a finger at the police who were there to record his words: "You may be powerful- very powerful- but you are not God. God cannot be mocked. You have already lost." Then, in a moment of unbearable tension, the bishop seemed to soften. Coming out from behind the pulpit he flashed that radiant Tutu smile and began to bounce up and down with glee. "Therefore, since you have already lost, we are inviting you to join the winning side."

The crowd roared, the police melted away, and the people began to dance.

 

Maybe we stay because we like to dance. T.S. Eliot wrote once a telling word about the dance of God (at least that what's I think its about):

 

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;

Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,

But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,

Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor

            towards,

Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

(from Burnt Norton, Four Quartets)

 

So how many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?

It just takes one who wants to see the light.  

 

Perhaps we stay because we still want to know God.