Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

I have late-breaking news from PC(USA) headquarters in Louisville:

The Permanent Judicial Commission,

having met over the weekend,

has reviewed the text of scripture recorded in Luke 12, verses 49-56;

and on the basis of that testimony,

has determined that Jesus of Nazareth

is not suitable for ordination in the Presbyterian Church (USA).

"We were amazed by Mr. …. by Jesus’ statement," said one member of the commission,

who asked to remain unnamed because he or she

is not authorized to speak for the entire commission.

"Frankly, we found these to be pretty incendiary words,

coming from someone who is commonly known as the ‘Prince of Peace.’

"It was our considered opinion that Mr. … that Jesus

could not answer to our satisfaction the ordination question,

‘Do you promise to further the peace, unity, and purity of the church?’

"Therefore, our ruling is

that he shall not be ordained in any congregation of the PC(USA)."

Okay, okay, that didn’t really happen.

Yet.

No one yet has excommunicated Jesus

for stirring up trouble, dissent, and discontent …

at least, not since the people of his own day

sentenced him to die for such behaviors.

Instead, we do something that’s maybe even worse.

We domesticate him.

We focus on the "nice" sayings of Jesus,

like, "let the children come to me,"

or "in my Father’s house are many rooms,"

and we hurry right on past scriptures like this one.

"I came to bring fire to the earth,

and how I wish it were already kindled!"

"Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?

No, I tell you, but rather division!"

Like we didn’t have enough to worry about already.

I mean, any self-respecting social scientist will tell you

that the whole purpose of religion

is to calm people’s fears,

to give them a sense of place and control

in a universe that is only minimally under our control.

How can Jesus expect to gain followers

with a platform like that one?!

That’s not to say that peace is a bad thing.

Far from it.

But how you define "peace"

often depends on where you’re sitting.

We can talk in historical terms about the pax Romana

under which the whole known world remained at peace

for at least a couple of centuries,

all under the control of Rome and the emperors.

But what kind of "peace" is it when you are one of the conquered peoples,

and paying exorbitant taxes to Rome,

and having soldiers quartered just down the street,

watching your every move,

and having to practice your religion

only in the ways approved by the empire

and under the leadership of governors approved by them?

Is that peace, or isn’t it?

I’m sure it was nice for the Romans …

not so sure it was nice for the Israelites, and other subject people.

Fast-forward a few hundred years, to 1963.

Martin Luther King, Jr. is sitting in jail in Birmingham,

in the aftermath of one or another nonviolent protest against segregation.

He receives a letter from eight white clergymen, all from Alabama,

assuring him that they agree with his ultimate goal,

but don’t like the way he is upsetting things in order to get there.

King’s "Letter from Birmingham Jail" responds to them,

"I had hoped that the white moderate would understand

that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase

of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace,

in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight,

to a substantive and positive peace,

in which all men will respect the dignity and worth

of human personality.

Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action

are not the creators of tension.

We merely bring to the surface

the hidden tension that is already alive.

We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with."

Is it peace, when those who are more powerful

use their power to keep others "in their place"?

Is it "unchristian" to insist that such a peace

is not worthy of the name?

In the 1960s, First Presbyterian Church in New Orleans

debated long and loud over whether

they would welcome black folks into their church,

if they showed up.

No one had actually done so yet,

but there were noises being made in the black community

about trying to integrate the churches as well as other places.

The congregation finally decided, though not at all unanimously,

that anyone who showed up for worship was welcome.

Period.

Only, no black folks ever came.

And a whole lot of white families left in anger.

Who was on the side of "peace" in that one?

Those who preferred a calm status quo?

Or those who disrupted it?

Just ten years ago,

shortly before we ended up moving to Dallas,

my former spouse interviewed with a church in New Orleans

that wanted to call him as pastor.

This was a Presbyterian church in the middle of the city,

with not a single non-white member.

In fact, we were told,

not too many Sundays ago a black woman had come to worship,

real nicely dressed, obviously a professional of some type,

and by the end of the morning she had been told,

in the most Christian way possible,

that surely she would feel more comfortable

worshiping in some other congregation.

Peace?

According to whom?

Jesus suggests that perhaps we might understand him better

if we saw that he comes, rather, to bring division.

Five in a household will be divided,

three against two and two against three.

Family members will be divided against one another:

parents against children and children against parents,

and in-laws against in-laws … now that one we can understand!

He could easily have gone on to add,

synagogue members against other members,

one priest against the other,

elder against elder.

And over the course of time,

Christians against Jews, Protestants against Catholics,

and so on, ad infinitum.

Which is not to say that our squabbling is always the right thing to do;

clearly, it’s often not.

Often, it’s more about "turf" than about justice, or faithfulness.

But, Jesus makes equally clear

that division and disagreement are not always wrong, either.

Sometimes, what is right

must stand up against

a status quo that is "peaceful," but unjust.

Those in the Presbyterian Church of today

who are making the loudest complaints

against disrupters of "peace, unity, and purity"

are precisely the ones who have gotten to define peace on their own terms

for a very long time.

They are mostly white,

like those who accused King and other blacks of disrupting the peace

by demanding equal treatment under the law.

They are mostly male,

like those who argued 100 years ago

that allowing women to speak from the pulpit

was a disruption to the peace, unity, and purity of the church.

They are mostly wealthy,

and believe the church should stay quiet about an economic system

that has brought such peace to them and theirs.

They are mostly married,

and believe that this majority status bestows upon them

the right to define "purity" for those who are unmarried.

They are mostly straight,

and believe that the only way to "peace" is to insist that

what is "normal" and "natural" for them must be the same for everyone.

Now, here’s where it gets difficult.

Just because Jesus apparently wants us to disrupt the peace

when it is an unjust peace …

doesn’t mean that we’re going to win friends and gain converts

by doing so!

The social scientists are correct to argue that, on human terms,

religious institutions are the places where we go to get away from stress,

to find comfort and consolation and inner peace, at least.

Therefore, churches and other religious groups

that do not disrupt the status quo

are nearly always going to have more "success" in worldly terms

than are those who refuse to cry "Peace, peace" where there is no peace.

The largest Christian group by far in Nazi Germany

was not the Confessing Church, which stood up to Hitler …

it was the usual suspects,

the major Christian groups both Catholic and Protestant,

who blindly went along with a promise of future peace

built on a foundation of genocide and warfare and ethnic "purity."

And they are the ones who survived,

whereas key players in the Confessing Church,

like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, did not.

Disturbing the peace can indeed be hazardous to your health …

as Jesus found out …

and Bonhoeffer, and King, and Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero,

and thousands of nameless others.

None of which is to say that peace, unity and purity are bad things!

The church should be a place where we can come

to reconnect with the peace of God, and to create unity with other believers,

and to mold a purity of heart that helps us live faithfully in the world.

But each of those things may lead us to a place

of holy discontent with the world as it is.

A place in which we disturb the peace of the present moment

for the sake of a greater peace at a future time.

A place in which we can no longer be satisfied with peace in our own lives

if it comes at the expense of peace in others’ lives.

A place in which we come to understand

that there is no peace for any of us,

until there is peace for all of us.

And so, there may well be division.

When the gospel challenges our comfort,

there will be those who blame the messengers

rather than the message.

However, let us not grow weary or discouraged

at the size of the challenge Jesus has handed to us.

Rather, let us rejoice

that he trusts us enough to challenge us with it.

To speak his truth,

to show his compassion,

to preach his peace,

which he does not give as the world gives.

May we find our peace in him.

Amen.

©2007 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org