What Does It Mean to Be Presbyterian? 3. Ecclesia Reformata, Semper Reformanda
Romans 12:1-8
I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness.
I want to share with you a story I’ve told before, and I want to share it with you because it has a lot to do with what it means to be Presbyterian, although you may not see the connection right away.
Back in 1845, an expedition led by Sir John Franklin set sail from England with a crew of 138 men. The two ships of the expedition set sail amidst a great celebration because they believed this expedition would ultimately find the mythical Northwest Passage across northern Canada, a passage many believed would allow ships to avoid having to sail around the Cape of Magellan at the tip of South America, or the Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa, thus cutting thousands of miles off the trip to the Pacific. Whoever found this passage would become the greatest person on earth, and would assure that his country was the most powerful because they would control the lucrative trade with the Orient.
The expedition’s two ships were a marvel. Each ship was a three-masted barque carrying auxiliary steam engines. Each ship contained a 1200 volume library, a hand-organ playing 50 tunes, china place settings for the whole crew, cut glass wine goblets, and ornate silver settings for the officers bearing their initials and family crests. Along with this was a twelve-day coal supply. What the ships didn’t contain were winter clothing, coal reserves for more than twelve days, and other crucial provisions for a passage through the arctic. You see, they expected this to be an easy trip, and so they really didn’t prepare much at all.
The expedition soon passed out of sight. Over the following years, word of the expedition’s fate passed back to England through explorers who had heard from Inuit tribes near the arctic what had become of the expedition. For example, some crewmembers had been seen pushing a wooden boat across the ice. Similar boats were seen at Starvation Cove, along with the remains of 35 men. The remains of thirty bodies were found at Terro Bay. Apparently the Inuit had also seen one of the three-masted barques protruding from the ice at Simpson Strait.
Over the course of the next twenty years search parties recovered skeletons from all over the arctic. Slowly, the story was stitched together. With his ships frozen solid in the ice and unable to move, Franklin died aboard ship. Their supplies exhausted, the remaining officers and men outfitted themselves from the ships’ stores and set out to walk to safety. Eventually, their frozen bodies were found along with their supplies. Often what they took with them was bizarre. For instance, many were found with remains of chocolate, tea, guns, and oddly the place settings of the silver flatware with the officers initials and crests engraved on them. In the end, no members of the expedition survived.
Why do you think Franklin set out for such a cold, cold environment with so many silly things? The answer is simple: he had prepared the way you normally prepare for typical journeys, and he hadn’t realized that this was an atypical journey. The members of the Franklin Expedition died because they set out on a new voyage prepared for the past and not the future. Captain Franklin had a lot of experience sailing normal seas, but had thought very little of the challenges of sailing through a frozen sea. They didn’t bring along enough food, coal, or even winter clothes. He was satisfied that his experiences in the past would be enough for what he faced in the future, and the result of his miscalculation was that he and his crew all died terrible deaths.
You know, one of the main challenges in life is always being prepared for what’s coming rather than for what’s past. You can see this idea reflected in how we live our lives. We spend a tremendous amount of time going to school and college to prepare for the future. In sports we practice and practice to prepare for future games. Unfortunately, as we get older we often become less prepared for what is coming, especially in a religious, spiritual way. For example, how prepared are we ever for dying? How prepared are we for crises where we need God? The church is no different from us as individuals. The church lives in a culture undergoing constant change, but are we prepared for the changes around us, and for meeting them? Are we prepared for the future?
The modern Church is often prepared more for the past than for the future. The answers given by Christianity to the questions of faith so many people have today are often ones that worked in the past, but aren’t adequate for the future. We also struggle with our theologies and ways of worship, because often they reflect a culture that’s past, not one that’s coming.
Why do we have such a hard time adapting to the future. A basic reason is that people often want the Church and their faith to be an anchor for their lives. I’ve heard this often. People say, “I want the Church to be my anchor as I go through difficult times.” Do you know what the problem with being an anchor is? It keeps the ship from sailing. Think about what the purpose of a ship is? It is supposed to sail to new lands. It is supposed to be prepared for that trip. It is supposed to get people from one state of being to another. If a ship is at anchor, it is not really doing what it was created to do. There may be times to be at rest when loading or unloading, but a ship is for sailing. If the church is our anchor, it is leaving us unprepared for the winds of life. Here’s a way of thinking about it. If a hurricane comes, are you safer in your ship at anchor in a harbor, or out at sea? The answer is that you are safer out at sea where you can bob up and down on the waves. If you are at anchor in the harbor, you are in danger of being smashed against rocks, being thrown inland, or, if of being capsized.
John Calvin and the other reformers of the 16th century were very familiar with the problems of wanting church to be an anchor. They surveyed the times and recognized that the Roman Catholic Church was becoming irrelevant for people’s lives. The people of their times were asking new questions of faith, and they were facing new situations with the rise of new forms of government, new technologies, and new ways of living. The Reformers knew that to be a church meant to be a place that struggles to change to adapt to new challenges and situations. That’s why they came up with our phrase for today:
Ecclesia Reformata, Semper Reformanda.
Have you ever heard that phrase? It was a popular one in Calvin’s day. It means, “The church reformed, always being reformed.” They used this phrase to remind the church that it had undergone changes in the past, and that it needed to be prepared for changes coming in the future. The idea was that we are a church that has been transformed, and that we always need to be open to being transformed by God. We never stay fixed. We are never an anchor. We are a ship. This does not mean that we make changes for change’s sake. We always hold onto our traditions, but we are willing to upgrade them when times change. Our challenge is always figuring out how to adapt to the future while maintaining ties to the past. This “reformed, always being reformed” was a reponse to the Catholic tradition that had stayed mostly fixed for a thousand years.
You can see how reformata semper reformanda has impacted the Presbyterian Church in its history. For example, back in 1860 the church split over an issue of being reformed. One part of the church wanted to prepare itself for the future, the other part wanted to cling to the past. Do you know what the issue was? Slavery. The northern Presbyterian Church declared it was against God, the southern Presbyterian Church declared it was an institution instituted by God. That split wasn’t healed until reunification in 1983. Back in the 1960s and 70s another split occurred as the church began ordaining women. Again, part of the Church was meeting the challenges of the future, as women in the culture were being more fully included in all areas. That split still hasn’t been healed. Both the Presbyterian Church of America and the Evangelical Presbyterian Church split from us because they were not ready to adapt to a fuller inclusion of women.
This idea of reformata semper reformanda isn’t just for churches. It’s for us as individuals, too. The truth is that the moment our faith becomes fixed is the moment our faith moves off of God. Learning, stretching, and growing is always meant to be part of our faith lives because we are always called to be reformed. Paul teaches us this in our passage for today: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
Paul is telling us that if we are content to anchor our lives in the world, to stop growing spiritually, religiously, and theologically, we miss God. God moves on without us. The challenge is to keep moving with God. It’s as though God is constantly beckoning us to grow and move with God, but we have to choose to follow. We have to be prepared to sail to the new ways God is leading us to be, both as individuals and as a church.
A great way of understanding this comes when you watch the short film, “Day and Night,” a Pixar film shown before Toy Story 3. I showed it when I originally preached this sermon, and I would suggest you find a way to watch it. But let me try to describe it (almost impossible).
It starts with a figure sleeping who wakes up. The surrounding landscape is all black, but within him you can see a bright morning landscape. And as he walks, the landscape changes. He breathes in the air, and as he does you see trees within him blowing in the wind. He takes a morning stroll, and walkers walk through a field appearing within him. He is Day. Suddenly, he comes across a dark figure sleeping on the ground, and within him you see a nighttime field with sheep jumping over a fence, signifying that he is asleep, counting sheep. This is Night. Day pokes Night, and the sheep scatter. He wakes up Night, and the two struggle to understand each other. Soon they are in conflict, fighting with each other. Their rigidity about their each being the only valid person has gotten in their way. As they fight, the scenes within them change, demonstrating their moods. Night is filled with cawing crows, Day is filled with angry bees. You can see the two of them above in the picture:
Then something changes. Day steps away from Night, and within his body you see a woman sunbathing. Night, interested in the woman, pushes Day out of the way and steps into the same area, but you only see the same beach at night, with no one there except an empty cup. Day then steps away and shows him a bunch of women sitting, sunbathing around a pool. Night again pushes him out of the way and sees the same pool at night, crickets chirping in the background. Day realizes that there is something of value in himself to Night, so he shows Night all that he can reveal, showing him jets flying in formation, among other things. Night then shows him all he can do, showing Day nighttime fireworks. The two of them begin to develop an appreciation for each other.
As they grow in appreciation, they dance, they celebrate, and then both begin to change. Day starts to turn into Night, and Night turns into Day. They hug as the rising and setting suns within each on of them synchronizes. And they have joy.
This is what it means to be ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda. It means to be people who grapple with changes that we don’t understand, and learn to embrace them as we change for God’s sake.
Amen.
What Does it Mean to Be Presbyterian? 2. Democratic Wisdom
Ephesians 4:1-16
September 19, 2010
I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore it is said, “When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.” (When it says, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.) The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.
When you think about the great presidents of the United States, who usually comes to mind? Washington? Lincoln? Jefferson? The Roosevelts? Reagan? It’s always a good debate with no clear answer. Now, if you were to debate whom the greatest person to become president was, I think the answer would come down to a choice between two men, one of whom would be George Washington. Besides Washington, it would hard to find a greater person, to find a person who had more impact on history and development on the United States, than James Madison.
He certainly wasn’t one of our greatest presidents. His miscalculations about the British led to the War of 1812, and his miscalculation about Britain’s wartime intentions allowed the British to capture and burn, with no American resistance, much of Washington, D.C. Madison was not one of our greatest presidents, but he was clearly our greatest resident. He accomplished something that was far more powerful than anything achieved by any of our presidents other than Washington. What did he do? He wrote most of the Constitution of the United States of America.
Our constitution is seen worldwide as perhaps the greatest political document ever written, and most of it was conceived and written by James Madison. It’s too bad people don’t know more about him.
What’s ironic is that despite his greatness in his day, he most likely could never win the presidency if he were to run today. Why not? It has to do with his physical stature. If you look back at all the presidents elected since the beginning of the television era, starting with John F. Kennedy’s win over Richard Nixon, the taller of the two candidates has always won. In addition, since that time, no one has won the presidency without being at least six feet tall. James Madison was a pip-squeak in comparison, topping about between 5’4” and 5’6”. But his physical smallness didn’t hide his mental brilliance. Without him who knows if our democracy would be even half as great.
So where did Madison come up with all these ideas, ideas that he eventually applied into the U.S. Constitution? The easy place to look is to Roma and Greece. Certainly democracy was born in Greece, and championed in the early Roman Empire. Still, there were many ideas brought in by Madison that didn’t have roots in Greece or Rome. For instance, democracy in the ancient world was only for the rich and powerful. In ancient Athens you had to be wealthy to vote. In Sparta, you had to be a warrior of distinction to vote and participate in government. In Rome, the senate was filled with wealthy landowners. These were democracies for the wealthy. If you were poor, you had few rights and little participation.
Madison was influenced by something else, something that might surprise you. His life had twist that changed the way he thought, and it all came about because Madison had been so sickly as a child. He had been born and raised in Virginia as the son of a relatively wealthy landowner. For young men of his status, it was expected that he would go to the College of William and Mary. But the land and climate there—a boggy, muggy mess in the summer—would damage his already fragile health. So he decided to go to the College of New Jersey, which later became Princeton University. It was there he learned under the tutelage of John Witherspoon, and Witherspoon’s teachings made their way, through Madison, into the U. S. Constitution.
Witherspoon was a Scottish Presbyterian pastor who had been brought over from Scotland to resurrect the troubled university. With him he brought ideas that had been forged in the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. The Presbyterian Church of Scotland was a skeptical church that was, and always has been, very aware of the presence of sin. Having been dominated by the English for centuries before forging a peace with them, the Scottish always were skeptical about the willingness of anyone in power to be truly gracious in governing. The Scottish people had seen empty promises from the English. They also had witnessed the corruption of bishops and others in both the Catholic and Anglican churches. So, in creating a church government for their church, they created a system full of checks and balances. The point was to keep any one person or group from wielding too much power.
Thus, in the Scottish Presbyterian system, clergy had no more ruling power than elders. In fact, on church boards (or sessions, as they are called), the pastor only had one vote equal to each other member. In higher governing bodies, there would always be an equal number of laity and clergy. The point was to keep the clergy from having too much power, as was the case in the Catholic Church, but to also keep the laity from having too much power. It was a balance between hierarchical and mass rule. The elders would also be elected, and they would be part of a representative system. The point of this was to have people of wisdom lead so that the power of populism would be checked.
Witherspoon taught the importance of these kinds of checks and balances in his courses at Princeton, and the ideals of checks and balances heavily influenced Madison. Thus, the United States governing system is based upon the Presbyterian system. It is a system that is highly aware of the likelihood of people in power to sin and to be self-centered in their governing system. Based on the Presbyterian approach, Madison created a system in which each branch—the executive, legislative, and judicial—acted as a check and balance on the others. Thus, just as clergy were not given unlimited power, neither were presidents. The legislative and judicial branches would check and balance presidential power. In the legislative branch there would be two bodies that checked and balanced each other. There would be the House of Representatives, which would be more immediately representative of people. Serving only two-year terms, and representing a relatively small number of people, they would be very dependent on the voters, so they would more clearly represent the interests of smaller groups within their states. The Senate, comprised of two senators from each state serving six-year terms (and originally voted on by the state governments, not by the people), would be the wisdom body of government. They would be less reactive to interest groups, and their long terms would free them up to act with a slow-paced, measured wisdom. All of these checks and balances come courtesy of us Presbyterians.
This emphasis on checks and balances, recognizing the reality of human sin, is at the core of what it means to be Presbyterian. Our name, “Presbyterian,” reflects that sense of checks and balances. Do you know what the name means? Let me give you a hint. If you go to the eye doctor, and you are told you have to start using reading glasses, do you know what that condition is called? It is called “presbyopia.” It literally means “old eyes.” Presbyterian comes from the Greek word “presbyteros,” or “elder.” The idea is that elders, who hopefully have great wisdom, represent the church members. They aren’t necessarily political representatives, like your congressmen or congresswomen. They are spiritual representatives, chosen by the people, who hopefully have the wisdom to discern God’s will.
If you look at almost any denomination, their names tell you something crucial about them, often about their government. For example, Episcopalians are called that after the Greek word “episkopos,” which means “bishop.” It tells you that bishops run them. Congregationalists are run by the congregation, with monthly meetings voted on by the members. Methodists are called that because of their “methods,” or ways of practicing their faith, instituted by their founder, John Wesley. Quakers are called Quakers because it used to be said that they prayed with such passion that they shook or “quaked” when praying. Lutherans follow the teachings and example of Martin Luther.
The creation of the Presbyterianism system wasn’t only an attempt to create a religious democracy. It was an attempt to get back to the original intent and practices of Christianity found in scripture. The original reformers such as John Calvin, Martin Bucer, Philip Melancthon all had studied scripture, and tried their best to recreate the form of government in a church found in scripture. What they found in scripture was an emphasis on elders, who were gifted with leading the congregation, and pastors, who were gifted with teaching a congregation. In fact, in our tradition we have what we call “ruling” elders, or laity who are to lead the church, and “teaching” elders, or pastors, who are to teach the people how to grow spiritually. These ideas are reflected in our scripture for this morning, where it says, “The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ.”
Paul is giving us a template for the church, which is that everyone has a role. Our role is unique to each of us, yet whatever our role we are to work together for the good of the body of Christ. Churches aren’t to be run by any of us for our own sakes, but by all of us together for Christ’s sake.
What really separates us Presbyterians from other Christians is not so much our beliefs, which are very similar to other Protestants, but our approach. We believe in the importance of following God together, seeking to follow it in the way Paul teaches, which is that we are called to: “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Amen.
September 19, 2010
I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore it is said, “When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people.” (When it says, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.) The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.
When you think about the great presidents of the United States, who usually comes to mind? Washington? Lincoln? Jefferson? The Roosevelts? Reagan? It’s always a good debate with no clear answer. Now, if you were to debate whom the greatest person to become president was, I think the answer would come down to a choice between two men, one of whom would be George Washington. Besides Washington, it would hard to find a greater person, to find a person who had more impact on history and development on the United States, than James Madison.
He certainly wasn’t one of our greatest presidents. His miscalculations about the British led to the War of 1812, and his miscalculation about Britain’s wartime intentions allowed the British to capture and burn, with no American resistance, much of Washington, D.C. Madison was not one of our greatest presidents, but he was clearly our greatest resident. He accomplished something that was far more powerful than anything achieved by any of our presidents other than Washington. What did he do? He wrote most of the Constitution of the United States of America.
Our constitution is seen worldwide as perhaps the greatest political document ever written, and most of it was conceived and written by James Madison. It’s too bad people don’t know more about him.
What’s ironic is that despite his greatness in his day, he most likely could never win the presidency if he were to run today. Why not? It has to do with his physical stature. If you look back at all the presidents elected since the beginning of the television era, starting with John F. Kennedy’s win over Richard Nixon, the taller of the two candidates has always won. In addition, since that time, no one has won the presidency without being at least six feet tall. James Madison was a pip-squeak in comparison, topping about between 5’4” and 5’6”. But his physical smallness didn’t hide his mental brilliance. Without him who knows if our democracy would be even half as great.
So where did Madison come up with all these ideas, ideas that he eventually applied into the U.S. Constitution? The easy place to look is to Roma and Greece. Certainly democracy was born in Greece, and championed in the early Roman Empire. Still, there were many ideas brought in by Madison that didn’t have roots in Greece or Rome. For instance, democracy in the ancient world was only for the rich and powerful. In ancient Athens you had to be wealthy to vote. In Sparta, you had to be a warrior of distinction to vote and participate in government. In Rome, the senate was filled with wealthy landowners. These were democracies for the wealthy. If you were poor, you had few rights and little participation.
Madison was influenced by something else, something that might surprise you. His life had twist that changed the way he thought, and it all came about because Madison had been so sickly as a child. He had been born and raised in Virginia as the son of a relatively wealthy landowner. For young men of his status, it was expected that he would go to the College of William and Mary. But the land and climate there—a boggy, muggy mess in the summer—would damage his already fragile health. So he decided to go to the College of New Jersey, which later became Princeton University. It was there he learned under the tutelage of John Witherspoon, and Witherspoon’s teachings made their way, through Madison, into the U. S. Constitution.
Witherspoon was a Scottish Presbyterian pastor who had been brought over from Scotland to resurrect the troubled university. With him he brought ideas that had been forged in the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. The Presbyterian Church of Scotland was a skeptical church that was, and always has been, very aware of the presence of sin. Having been dominated by the English for centuries before forging a peace with them, the Scottish always were skeptical about the willingness of anyone in power to be truly gracious in governing. The Scottish people had seen empty promises from the English. They also had witnessed the corruption of bishops and others in both the Catholic and Anglican churches. So, in creating a church government for their church, they created a system full of checks and balances. The point was to keep any one person or group from wielding too much power.
Thus, in the Scottish Presbyterian system, clergy had no more ruling power than elders. In fact, on church boards (or sessions, as they are called), the pastor only had one vote equal to each other member. In higher governing bodies, there would always be an equal number of laity and clergy. The point was to keep the clergy from having too much power, as was the case in the Catholic Church, but to also keep the laity from having too much power. It was a balance between hierarchical and mass rule. The elders would also be elected, and they would be part of a representative system. The point of this was to have people of wisdom lead so that the power of populism would be checked.
Witherspoon taught the importance of these kinds of checks and balances in his courses at Princeton, and the ideals of checks and balances heavily influenced Madison. Thus, the United States governing system is based upon the Presbyterian system. It is a system that is highly aware of the likelihood of people in power to sin and to be self-centered in their governing system. Based on the Presbyterian approach, Madison created a system in which each branch—the executive, legislative, and judicial—acted as a check and balance on the others. Thus, just as clergy were not given unlimited power, neither were presidents. The legislative and judicial branches would check and balance presidential power. In the legislative branch there would be two bodies that checked and balanced each other. There would be the House of Representatives, which would be more immediately representative of people. Serving only two-year terms, and representing a relatively small number of people, they would be very dependent on the voters, so they would more clearly represent the interests of smaller groups within their states. The Senate, comprised of two senators from each state serving six-year terms (and originally voted on by the state governments, not by the people), would be the wisdom body of government. They would be less reactive to interest groups, and their long terms would free them up to act with a slow-paced, measured wisdom. All of these checks and balances come courtesy of us Presbyterians.
This emphasis on checks and balances, recognizing the reality of human sin, is at the core of what it means to be Presbyterian. Our name, “Presbyterian,” reflects that sense of checks and balances. Do you know what the name means? Let me give you a hint. If you go to the eye doctor, and you are told you have to start using reading glasses, do you know what that condition is called? It is called “presbyopia.” It literally means “old eyes.” Presbyterian comes from the Greek word “presbyteros,” or “elder.” The idea is that elders, who hopefully have great wisdom, represent the church members. They aren’t necessarily political representatives, like your congressmen or congresswomen. They are spiritual representatives, chosen by the people, who hopefully have the wisdom to discern God’s will.
If you look at almost any denomination, their names tell you something crucial about them, often about their government. For example, Episcopalians are called that after the Greek word “episkopos,” which means “bishop.” It tells you that bishops run them. Congregationalists are run by the congregation, with monthly meetings voted on by the members. Methodists are called that because of their “methods,” or ways of practicing their faith, instituted by their founder, John Wesley. Quakers are called Quakers because it used to be said that they prayed with such passion that they shook or “quaked” when praying. Lutherans follow the teachings and example of Martin Luther.
The creation of the Presbyterianism system wasn’t only an attempt to create a religious democracy. It was an attempt to get back to the original intent and practices of Christianity found in scripture. The original reformers such as John Calvin, Martin Bucer, Philip Melancthon all had studied scripture, and tried their best to recreate the form of government in a church found in scripture. What they found in scripture was an emphasis on elders, who were gifted with leading the congregation, and pastors, who were gifted with teaching a congregation. In fact, in our tradition we have what we call “ruling” elders, or laity who are to lead the church, and “teaching” elders, or pastors, who are to teach the people how to grow spiritually. These ideas are reflected in our scripture for this morning, where it says, “The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ.”
Paul is giving us a template for the church, which is that everyone has a role. Our role is unique to each of us, yet whatever our role we are to work together for the good of the body of Christ. Churches aren’t to be run by any of us for our own sakes, but by all of us together for Christ’s sake.
What really separates us Presbyterians from other Christians is not so much our beliefs, which are very similar to other Protestants, but our approach. We believe in the importance of following God together, seeking to follow it in the way Paul teaches, which is that we are called to: “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Amen.
What Does It Mean to Be Presbyterian? 1. Grace Is All that Matters.
Romans 3:19-26
September 12, 2007
Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For “no human being will be justified in his sight” by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin. But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.
For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus.
You know, generations ago Presbyterians knew what it meant to be Presbyterian. Today I’m not so sure how many of us really know what it actually means to be Presbyterian. I say that because looking at our congregation, it’s pretty apparent that the majority of us grew up something other than Presbyterian. In the polling I’ve done of the members, I’ve found that at least 65% of our members grew up in a denomination other than Presbyterian, or grew up as nothing at all. They grew up Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopalian, United Church of Christ, Disciples of Christ, Methodist, Christian Scientist, Pentecostal, or some other denomination.
A generation or two ago, growing up in one denomination, and then joining another would never have been the case. People who grew up Presbyterian stayed Presbyterian. We didn’t bring in many outsiders, and people just knew what it meant to be Presbyterian. Now, I’m not so sure people do. Do you know what lies at the foundations of our beliefs?
For the next four weeks, I want to do a series on what it means to be Presbyterian. I want to focus on what the basics of being Presbyterian are so that those of you who didn’t grow up Presbyterian, and those of you who did, can become a bit clearer on what it is that makes Presbyterian distinctive. In truth, four weeks really isn’t adequate. I could spend all fall preaching on this topic, but that would be kind of boring. So, I’m going to limit it to four weeks.
What is at the foundation of being a Presbyterian? If we are going to understand what it means fundamentally to be Presbyterian, we have to travel back to Germany on October 13, 1517, where a young monk did something that changed the world.
Before that hallowed date, this young monk had been an unknown Augustinian friar who toiled in obscurity in the town of Wittenberg. Having been raised and trained in the Augustinian Christian tradition (a tradition based on Augustine, who in the 5th century wrote a treatise on his own sinfulness and the fall of humanity), he was very much obsessed with his own sinfulness. He was also ordained as a priest, and he was so consumed with his own unworthiness that whenever he celebrated mass by holding the chalice, his hands shook so much that he often spilled the wine. This young monk kept wondering what he could do to overcome his own sinfulness.
Part of his problem was the theology of the Catholic Church at the time. There was a belief in the church, which still persists in a lesser form among Catholics, that a person had to merit getting into heaven. The Catholic Church had a central doctrine that entry into heaven was not free. Instead, people had to earn getting into heaven by doing good deeds. And giving money to the Church to do big projects was considered by God to be great enough to earn either entry into heaven, or at least less time in purgatory. In the early 1500s contributing to a big project, and thus doing a great deed, meant giving money to the Catholic Church to help build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. The Catholic Church used this doctrine as a fundraiser for building the basilica. They did this by sending a bishop traveling throughout Europe in a cart carrying thousands of small scrolls, bearing the papal seal and bound with a red ribbon. These scrolls were called “indulgences.” By purchasing an indulgence, the proceeds of which would go to building the basilica, a person would be told that she or he, or a relative, had purchased the ability to get out of purgatory early, and to merit getting into heaven.
This whole theology of meriting entry into heaven through the purchase of indulgences bothered the young monk. He wondered how the Church or we could tell if a deed was good enough, or if we had done enough of them. This matter pressed upon his mind and soul, and he obsessed about it. As a New Testament scholar and reader of Greek, the monk was reading the Letters of Paul one day, and came across our passage for this morning. He had read it many, many times before, but this time he read it with fresh eyes. In reading it, he had a hard time moving beyond one particular sentence: “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith.” He wondered, “Is this true? Is what Paul says the real path to God? Are we really saved by grace as a free gift? If this is true, then the church has been astray from the Gospel for over 1000 years.”
What did the young monk do? He did what any religious scholar at the time did to make people aware of a theological idea. He invited people to debate it. The monk, Martin Luther, went to All Saints Church, in Wittenberg, and nailed his proposal, titled "Disputation of Martin Luther on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences," onto the church door. Why nail it to the door? That was the practice of the time for making people aware of events, announcing proclamations, and inviting discussion and debate on theological topics. The printing press had been around for only a short time, and publishing was expensive, so this was a cheap and time-honored way of posting his ideas. He did not anticipate the Church’s response.
His proposal basically entailed 95 “theses” that stated, in essence, indulgences were wrong because they had no power. Since grace, and therefore salvation, were free gifts given by God unearned, and accessed only through our faith in God, money spent on indulgences were merely good acts with no power to save us. He was telling the church and the faithful that the practice of selling indulgences did nothing to get us into heave or keep us out of hell. This idea rocked the church. It not only challenged almost 1000 years of church doctrine, but it seriously threatened the fundraising efforts for building a holy building in Rome—one that was to become treasured throughout the world.
The Church was so angry with Luther that it not only excommunicated him, but officially tried to have him killed. Luther had to go into hiding, yet his “95 Theses” were printed, published, and distributed widely throughout Europe. The Church now not only had its fundraising efforts interfered with, but people were leaving the church and joining new movements based on Luther’s insight that we are saved by grace, not works.
Why is this idea, that we “are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,” so important to Presbyterians? Because this idea of salvation by grace is the foundation of being a Presbyterian. We are a people who believe that everything in life comes from God through grace, and that all our actions should be motivated by faith in this grace. Despite our believing this, this is also one of the hardest ideas to get across to people because most people want to be saved by something other than grace
What do I mean? What are some of the things you’ve heard people say we need to do in order to be saved? You’ve heard that we have to be “born-again,” although that passage from John 3:3 only tells us that we need to be born-again to “see” the kingdom of God, not to be saved. You’ve heard that we need to do the right good deeds to be saved. You’ve heard that you need to belong to the right denomination, movement, or church to be saved. Despite what Paul says in Romans, we are always looking for ways to get this salvation thing under our own control. We don’t want salvation to be a gift. We want to be able to earn it through our beliefs, behaviors, or belonging to the right church. We don’t want it to be all up to God. What if God decides not to give us grace or salvation? Much better to have it under our own control.
I was asked an interesting question a few weeks ago by one of our folks. Years ago I had asked the same question and it took me a while to get a good answer. The question? What is grace? I love the fact that she asked me this question. Sometimes we are so reluctant to ask basic questions because we worry that people will think we’re stupid. But the truth is that those of us who have studied deep Christian concepts forget what it was like to not know them. How did I answer? I answered by giving her a hug and telling her that’s what grace is. I’m not sure it was the best answer, but what I was trying to say was that grace is all of God’s love, all of God’s blessings, all of God’s power all wrapped up and given to us as a free gift. Like a hug, it’s an expression of God’s love for us that goes beyond what we understand. We feel and experience it more than we understand it.
David Steindl-Rast, who is a Dominican priest, says that grace can be understood this way. It is as if God was standing around every corner, doorway, and hallway, waiting to give us gift-wrapped gifts of grace. The problem is that we are so busy with our tasks and interests that we brush right by them. But God keeps running in front of us, holding out gifts. We accept them when we simply have faith—when we trust in God’s goodness and receive the gifts thankfully. The irony of the approach of trying to earn the gifts is that we become like people receiving gifts at our birthday party, asking the givers how much we owe them for the gifts. We would never do that, but we do try to earn God’s gifts, gifts that have already been given for free.
It’s because of the connection between grace and faith that the forming a relationship with God is so important. God doesn’t force grace on us. We accept these gifts of grace by having faith, by trusting in God and loving God. That is a problem for some people because they want grace, but they don’t necessarily want the relationship with God that comes with grace. They want God to give them grace when they need it, but they also want God to leave them alone when they don’t. Yet when we have a deep relationship with God, based on faith, grace flows through everything we do.
To be Presbyterian means to be aware of God’s grace everywhere, and being constantly open to it. This idea of being available to grace creates some interesting and quite profound ways of thinking about our faith. For instance, why as Presbyterians, should we worship, do good deeds, and serve God in everything? Do we worship in order to please God so we can get into heaven? Do we give money to the church to get into heaven? Do we do good deeds to get into heaven? We already know the answer to those questions, but the question remains, if everything is free, then why worship, give, and serve?
The answer is that for us Presbyterians, we worship, give, and serve in response to grace. We recognize that grace is all around us, and we become so grateful (literally meaning “grace-filled”) that we respond to grace. We worship in order to enhance the connection between God and us so that grace can flow more freely in and through our lives. One of the problems of today is that we are so “me-focused” that we are always asking, “what’s in it for me to worship?” The answer is “nothing,” unless you count spending an hour with God, praising God, praying to God, listening to God, and preparing the way for God to grow in your soul as “something.” Presbyterians worship because we are called to worship, and because worship deepens our relationship with God. We give to the church and charity as a way of saying thank you to God, and as a way of giving back to God some of the grace God has given us. We serve because God’s grace has entered our lives so fully that we want to share grace with others.
It is this belief in grace, and our response to grace, that distinguishes us from Roman Catholics, Pentecostals, and many Evangelicals. In the Roman Catholic tradition, there is still a belief that we must do good deeds to merit salvation. That’s why worship in the Roman Catholic tradition is considered an obligation. We have to worship, and take part in the mass, to merit salvation. In the Pentecostal and Evangelical traditions, the emphasis is much more on certain ways of acting in faith that procures grace. You must believe the right things, or have the right gifts of the Spirit, or have given the right confession to merit grace and salvation. We Presbyterians don’t worry about salvation. When someone asks us when we were saved, we say that we were saved 2000 years ago when Jesus died on the cross, and we spend our times opening up to and responding to grace rather than trying to figure out how to get it.
Hannah Whitall Smith, the great Quaker writer of the 19th century, gives a great metaphor for the Presbyterian, and Protestant, attitude towards grace. She says that the problem is that we are like flowers planted outside the garden of grace, always straining over the fence to get some of that grace. We strain to get grace, but can’t get it because we are planted in something other than grace. What we need to do is to simply plant ourselves in grace, and when we do that the grace just flows through everything we do.
I actually believe that it is this belief in grace, and response to grace, that keeps the Presbyterian Church relatively small. I think that people respond much more to fear, and worries about their salvation, and doing good things to save themselves, than to the free gift of grace. Many churches preach messages that say that if you don’t become one of them, or believe like them, or act like them, or belong to them, you aren’t saved. Presbyterians never preach that, and we also never make people afraid. What we do is to help people to grow and mature in grace, but that’s not necessarily what people want, or at least it’s not what people think they want. We offer grace as a free gift, and we offer a path to grow in that grace. That’s what makes us Presbyterian at our foundations.
So, here are some questions that I want you to reflect on, as Presbyterians
• To what extent do you worship in response to grace?
• To what extent do you serve God in response to grace?
• To what extent do you let grace fill and flow through your life?
Amen.
September 12, 2007
Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For “no human being will be justified in his sight” by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin. But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.
For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus.
You know, generations ago Presbyterians knew what it meant to be Presbyterian. Today I’m not so sure how many of us really know what it actually means to be Presbyterian. I say that because looking at our congregation, it’s pretty apparent that the majority of us grew up something other than Presbyterian. In the polling I’ve done of the members, I’ve found that at least 65% of our members grew up in a denomination other than Presbyterian, or grew up as nothing at all. They grew up Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopalian, United Church of Christ, Disciples of Christ, Methodist, Christian Scientist, Pentecostal, or some other denomination.
A generation or two ago, growing up in one denomination, and then joining another would never have been the case. People who grew up Presbyterian stayed Presbyterian. We didn’t bring in many outsiders, and people just knew what it meant to be Presbyterian. Now, I’m not so sure people do. Do you know what lies at the foundations of our beliefs?
For the next four weeks, I want to do a series on what it means to be Presbyterian. I want to focus on what the basics of being Presbyterian are so that those of you who didn’t grow up Presbyterian, and those of you who did, can become a bit clearer on what it is that makes Presbyterian distinctive. In truth, four weeks really isn’t adequate. I could spend all fall preaching on this topic, but that would be kind of boring. So, I’m going to limit it to four weeks.
What is at the foundation of being a Presbyterian? If we are going to understand what it means fundamentally to be Presbyterian, we have to travel back to Germany on October 13, 1517, where a young monk did something that changed the world.
Before that hallowed date, this young monk had been an unknown Augustinian friar who toiled in obscurity in the town of Wittenberg. Having been raised and trained in the Augustinian Christian tradition (a tradition based on Augustine, who in the 5th century wrote a treatise on his own sinfulness and the fall of humanity), he was very much obsessed with his own sinfulness. He was also ordained as a priest, and he was so consumed with his own unworthiness that whenever he celebrated mass by holding the chalice, his hands shook so much that he often spilled the wine. This young monk kept wondering what he could do to overcome his own sinfulness.
Part of his problem was the theology of the Catholic Church at the time. There was a belief in the church, which still persists in a lesser form among Catholics, that a person had to merit getting into heaven. The Catholic Church had a central doctrine that entry into heaven was not free. Instead, people had to earn getting into heaven by doing good deeds. And giving money to the Church to do big projects was considered by God to be great enough to earn either entry into heaven, or at least less time in purgatory. In the early 1500s contributing to a big project, and thus doing a great deed, meant giving money to the Catholic Church to help build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. The Catholic Church used this doctrine as a fundraiser for building the basilica. They did this by sending a bishop traveling throughout Europe in a cart carrying thousands of small scrolls, bearing the papal seal and bound with a red ribbon. These scrolls were called “indulgences.” By purchasing an indulgence, the proceeds of which would go to building the basilica, a person would be told that she or he, or a relative, had purchased the ability to get out of purgatory early, and to merit getting into heaven.
This whole theology of meriting entry into heaven through the purchase of indulgences bothered the young monk. He wondered how the Church or we could tell if a deed was good enough, or if we had done enough of them. This matter pressed upon his mind and soul, and he obsessed about it. As a New Testament scholar and reader of Greek, the monk was reading the Letters of Paul one day, and came across our passage for this morning. He had read it many, many times before, but this time he read it with fresh eyes. In reading it, he had a hard time moving beyond one particular sentence: “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith.” He wondered, “Is this true? Is what Paul says the real path to God? Are we really saved by grace as a free gift? If this is true, then the church has been astray from the Gospel for over 1000 years.”
What did the young monk do? He did what any religious scholar at the time did to make people aware of a theological idea. He invited people to debate it. The monk, Martin Luther, went to All Saints Church, in Wittenberg, and nailed his proposal, titled "Disputation of Martin Luther on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences," onto the church door. Why nail it to the door? That was the practice of the time for making people aware of events, announcing proclamations, and inviting discussion and debate on theological topics. The printing press had been around for only a short time, and publishing was expensive, so this was a cheap and time-honored way of posting his ideas. He did not anticipate the Church’s response.
His proposal basically entailed 95 “theses” that stated, in essence, indulgences were wrong because they had no power. Since grace, and therefore salvation, were free gifts given by God unearned, and accessed only through our faith in God, money spent on indulgences were merely good acts with no power to save us. He was telling the church and the faithful that the practice of selling indulgences did nothing to get us into heave or keep us out of hell. This idea rocked the church. It not only challenged almost 1000 years of church doctrine, but it seriously threatened the fundraising efforts for building a holy building in Rome—one that was to become treasured throughout the world.
The Church was so angry with Luther that it not only excommunicated him, but officially tried to have him killed. Luther had to go into hiding, yet his “95 Theses” were printed, published, and distributed widely throughout Europe. The Church now not only had its fundraising efforts interfered with, but people were leaving the church and joining new movements based on Luther’s insight that we are saved by grace, not works.
Why is this idea, that we “are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,” so important to Presbyterians? Because this idea of salvation by grace is the foundation of being a Presbyterian. We are a people who believe that everything in life comes from God through grace, and that all our actions should be motivated by faith in this grace. Despite our believing this, this is also one of the hardest ideas to get across to people because most people want to be saved by something other than grace
What do I mean? What are some of the things you’ve heard people say we need to do in order to be saved? You’ve heard that we have to be “born-again,” although that passage from John 3:3 only tells us that we need to be born-again to “see” the kingdom of God, not to be saved. You’ve heard that we need to do the right good deeds to be saved. You’ve heard that you need to belong to the right denomination, movement, or church to be saved. Despite what Paul says in Romans, we are always looking for ways to get this salvation thing under our own control. We don’t want salvation to be a gift. We want to be able to earn it through our beliefs, behaviors, or belonging to the right church. We don’t want it to be all up to God. What if God decides not to give us grace or salvation? Much better to have it under our own control.
I was asked an interesting question a few weeks ago by one of our folks. Years ago I had asked the same question and it took me a while to get a good answer. The question? What is grace? I love the fact that she asked me this question. Sometimes we are so reluctant to ask basic questions because we worry that people will think we’re stupid. But the truth is that those of us who have studied deep Christian concepts forget what it was like to not know them. How did I answer? I answered by giving her a hug and telling her that’s what grace is. I’m not sure it was the best answer, but what I was trying to say was that grace is all of God’s love, all of God’s blessings, all of God’s power all wrapped up and given to us as a free gift. Like a hug, it’s an expression of God’s love for us that goes beyond what we understand. We feel and experience it more than we understand it.
David Steindl-Rast, who is a Dominican priest, says that grace can be understood this way. It is as if God was standing around every corner, doorway, and hallway, waiting to give us gift-wrapped gifts of grace. The problem is that we are so busy with our tasks and interests that we brush right by them. But God keeps running in front of us, holding out gifts. We accept them when we simply have faith—when we trust in God’s goodness and receive the gifts thankfully. The irony of the approach of trying to earn the gifts is that we become like people receiving gifts at our birthday party, asking the givers how much we owe them for the gifts. We would never do that, but we do try to earn God’s gifts, gifts that have already been given for free.
It’s because of the connection between grace and faith that the forming a relationship with God is so important. God doesn’t force grace on us. We accept these gifts of grace by having faith, by trusting in God and loving God. That is a problem for some people because they want grace, but they don’t necessarily want the relationship with God that comes with grace. They want God to give them grace when they need it, but they also want God to leave them alone when they don’t. Yet when we have a deep relationship with God, based on faith, grace flows through everything we do.
To be Presbyterian means to be aware of God’s grace everywhere, and being constantly open to it. This idea of being available to grace creates some interesting and quite profound ways of thinking about our faith. For instance, why as Presbyterians, should we worship, do good deeds, and serve God in everything? Do we worship in order to please God so we can get into heaven? Do we give money to the church to get into heaven? Do we do good deeds to get into heaven? We already know the answer to those questions, but the question remains, if everything is free, then why worship, give, and serve?
The answer is that for us Presbyterians, we worship, give, and serve in response to grace. We recognize that grace is all around us, and we become so grateful (literally meaning “grace-filled”) that we respond to grace. We worship in order to enhance the connection between God and us so that grace can flow more freely in and through our lives. One of the problems of today is that we are so “me-focused” that we are always asking, “what’s in it for me to worship?” The answer is “nothing,” unless you count spending an hour with God, praising God, praying to God, listening to God, and preparing the way for God to grow in your soul as “something.” Presbyterians worship because we are called to worship, and because worship deepens our relationship with God. We give to the church and charity as a way of saying thank you to God, and as a way of giving back to God some of the grace God has given us. We serve because God’s grace has entered our lives so fully that we want to share grace with others.
It is this belief in grace, and our response to grace, that distinguishes us from Roman Catholics, Pentecostals, and many Evangelicals. In the Roman Catholic tradition, there is still a belief that we must do good deeds to merit salvation. That’s why worship in the Roman Catholic tradition is considered an obligation. We have to worship, and take part in the mass, to merit salvation. In the Pentecostal and Evangelical traditions, the emphasis is much more on certain ways of acting in faith that procures grace. You must believe the right things, or have the right gifts of the Spirit, or have given the right confession to merit grace and salvation. We Presbyterians don’t worry about salvation. When someone asks us when we were saved, we say that we were saved 2000 years ago when Jesus died on the cross, and we spend our times opening up to and responding to grace rather than trying to figure out how to get it.
Hannah Whitall Smith, the great Quaker writer of the 19th century, gives a great metaphor for the Presbyterian, and Protestant, attitude towards grace. She says that the problem is that we are like flowers planted outside the garden of grace, always straining over the fence to get some of that grace. We strain to get grace, but can’t get it because we are planted in something other than grace. What we need to do is to simply plant ourselves in grace, and when we do that the grace just flows through everything we do.
I actually believe that it is this belief in grace, and response to grace, that keeps the Presbyterian Church relatively small. I think that people respond much more to fear, and worries about their salvation, and doing good things to save themselves, than to the free gift of grace. Many churches preach messages that say that if you don’t become one of them, or believe like them, or act like them, or belong to them, you aren’t saved. Presbyterians never preach that, and we also never make people afraid. What we do is to help people to grow and mature in grace, but that’s not necessarily what people want, or at least it’s not what people think they want. We offer grace as a free gift, and we offer a path to grow in that grace. That’s what makes us Presbyterian at our foundations.
So, here are some questions that I want you to reflect on, as Presbyterians
• To what extent do you worship in response to grace?
• To what extent do you serve God in response to grace?
• To what extent do you let grace fill and flow through your life?
Amen.
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