Freedom For

I had the pleasure of preaching at Augustana Lutheran in Hyde Park this Sunday.  It's good to be back in the saddle.

Matthew 5:21-37, Deuteronomy 30:15-20, 1st Corinthians 3:1-9, Psalm 119

Epiphany 6A, February 13th 2011

Augustana Lutheran Church, Chicago, IL

Pr. Katie Hines-Shah

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Before some of you start wondering how Pr. Palmer managed to grow a few inches taller and get a little blonder, let me introduce myself.  My name is Pr. Katie Hines-Shah.  I am most recently from Berkeley, California.  And yes, in case you're wondering, my family moved here for the weather. 

In California I was pastor of Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, the congregation closest to Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary, which seems very appropriate since my teaching parish training was here at Augustana Lutheran.  I graduated from The Divinity School at the University of Chicago.  Before that I went to college in a little town called Northfield, MN, although, I must confess, I did not go to the Lutheran School that Pr. Gorder, Pr. Palmer, and Cantor Schwandt attended.  I went to the other school.

There are many other ways I could supply my credentials, many other ways I could establish my authority, my detriments, or our common ground.  Here in Hyde Park, I'm sure you all know the drill.  You have all had these conversations, where you were born where you were confirmed, where you attended school, where you have taught, where you have published, what Lutheran persons of renown you can share anecdotes about, which fiord or village or stadt your forefathers and mothers hail from, perhaps even which Superbowl team you rooted for last week.  But now that we've gone to all that trouble, when we come to the epistle, it quickly becomes apparent. 

None of these things really matters.

The people of Corinth were as good at this game as I am, and as good as you are too, and Paul chides us for it.  "What is this Apollos?"  "What is this Paul?"  "What is this St. Olaf"  "What is this Martin Marty?"  There is only one name that defines us, and that is Christ.

We are all, first and foremost, children of God.  And as children of God we are freed by grace from all the ephemera that ruled us before.

We are children of God.  And as children of God we are freed by grace. 

Let me say that one more time.  We are children of God.  And as children of God, we are freed by grace.

My sisters and brothers, this is so important to remember, especially in light of Gospel texts like today's.  Because if you don't keep that subtext in mind, you might take today's Gospel reading the wrong way.

Now I know that most of you, blizzard or no, have been in church the last two Sundays, and so you are aware, today's gospel is just a small part of a greater whole.  But in case you weren't able to come, here's the brief recap: For the last two weeks and for two more after this one, we are in the midst of Jesus' great teaching moment, his Sermon on the Mount.

I'm not going to get into whether Jesus actually preached this all in one marathon session or whether this is series of sayings collected later into a cohesive whole, but this much is clear, in the two week's previous, the overall theme of Jesus' teaching has been grace.

Two weeks ago we heard the beatitudes.  "Blessed, blessed, blessed, Jesus says, eleven times in a row, assuring us of God's love for us.  No matter if we are poor or mourning, meek or persecuted, our primary identity is blessed by virtue of God's grace.

Last week we heard Jesus say, "You are the salt of the earth".  Last week we heard Jesus say, "You are light for the world."   Jesus did not equivocate here.  He did not say, "You could be salt, if only you got to church more."  Jesus did not say, "You might be light, if only you did more good deeds."  No, for light still shines, even under a basket.  And salt still functions, even if it is tramped under foot, as many of us know on these blizzard days.

Our primary identity as children of God cannot be taken away by tragedies and travails of the world.  Our identity as children of God cannot be thrown away by our own works or deeds.  Nothing and no one can take away the fact we've been freed by grace.  Thanks be to God!

But let's not get too comfortable here.  As the martyr Dietrich Bonheoffer reminds us, there is no such thing as cheap grace.  We have been freed for a purpose.  Our rights as children of God call us to responsibility as well.  And that's where today's Gospel, and its voice of Law, comes in.

I like to think that I know a thing or two about the law.  My husband Jay, baptized here at Augustana, is a lawyer, but only barred in California.  He's currently studying for the Illinois Bar, coming up at the end of this month.   So as Jay studies I've been overhearing some of the bar review lectures and some of the questions he's been working on.  And sometimes I like to "help."  Most of the questions are pretty technical and, to tell you the truth boring, but one scenario Jay listened to recently stands out on this Sunday.  Here goes:

In a state park rangers have clearly posted that fires are not to be left unattended.  A camper starts a fire just as a bear charges into his campsite.  The camper runs and, by the time he returns, his neighbor's tent and car have been destroyed by fire.  Can the fire victim sue the camper who ran?

I couldn't help it, I yelled out my answer, "Sue the bear!"

Jay gently explained to me that suing the bear is not an option in the multiple choices given.  You can't sue the bear for charging any more than you can sue a tree for falling.  We can't blame God 's good Law for our own failure to follow.  And I think this is important for this Gospel lesson. 

I think that while there are some mentally disturbed people who read, "If your eye offends you, cut it off," and then, literally do so.  But I know many more of us read these hard prohibitions against anger, lust, and oaths, and think something akin to "sue the bear."  We think that these are just the sorts of words Luther was referring to when he says that the second use of the law drives us to know our need for grace.  (And, conveniently enough, this absolves us of any and all responsibility).  But I think there's a way between these two.  A middle way.

Deuteronomy can be a help. I know, you've probably never heard that one before.  How can the Law be a help?  Particularly to us Lutherans?  But Law doesn't mean just regulation and limitation.  Law can mean a new kind of freedom as well.

Remember, context is everything.  Today's Old Testament text comes at the end of the presentation of the Law in its total, Law given to the Hebrew people after their escape from Egypt.   I once read an interpretation of the Ten Commandments, the heart of Deuteronomy's Law as "Instructions on how to be free."  Remember, the Hebrew people had been slaves as far back as they could remember.  Being free is harder than it sounds.  It is easy to fall back into slavery.  Being freed we can easily fall into slaveries like self-righteousness on one side or hedonism on the other.

Can you see how that might be?  We readily understand the self-righteousness problem, after all, isn't that what the scribes and Pharisees seem to always be about following the letter of the law irrespective of its spirit.  These are the people who read Jesus' words about divorce at literally think this text condemns those who divorce.  They are like confirmation students calling each other "raca" (fool in Hebrew) to play along the edges of hellfire. 

I am here today to boldly proclaim, that the Law means something more than this.  If you have been divorced, know that God does not forsake you.  If you, like Jimmy Carter, have "lusted in your heart," know that God will not abandon you.  Wherever you feel convicted in this text, for I promise you we all do, you are not damned.  I want you to know that God's covenant of mercy and grace given in your baptism still stands.  God is not trying to catch us up by the Law.   God wants more for us all.

But that doesn't mean we should "sin all the more so that grace may abound."  The hedonism thing is a little trickier for those of us who look to a new freedom.  Think of it this way:  It might be in my best interest to bear false witness, but it certainly isn't in the best interest of a free society.  It might be in your best interest to steal, but it isn't best for us all.  To be free entails new responsibility, a new life where we are tied one to another. 

After all, that's what "religion" means.  Far from just a set of codes, the word "religion, "in at its Latin core, means "connected."  "Ligament" shares the same root.  We are connected, one to another, by means of a law given in grace.  We are freed to be united in a whole new way.

As people of faith, as a religious people, what then, will we do with our freedom?

Will we choose ways that bring us closer together with our brothers and sisters in Christ, fellow children of God?  Will we work together, as Paul says, as God's servants?  Will we choose a way of life that refrains from anger? Will we respect people's bodies as well as their minds and spirits?  Will we be people that speak truth? 

God tells us straight, there are consequences.  Not just consequences in some heaven or hell by and by.  Consequences for here and now.  For our nations, for our churches, for our schools and workplaces, for our families, for ourselves.  Now that we are free, what will we choose?  God urges us to choose life.

I've been thinking of the responsibilities of freedom this whole week as the news from Egypt comes over the radio and through the paper.  As Mubarak finally resigned on Friday, the world waits to see what the Egyptian people will do with freedom.  Will they choose a path of rigid righteousness where religious law limits freedom for all?  Will they fall into a self-indulgent hedonism where the privileges of a few outweigh the needs of the many? 

Or will they choose another way? 

Will the Egyptian people choose way that the Gospel offers?  Will they choose a way that embraces the bond of all free people?  Will secret killings and imprisonments stop?  Will women and minorities, including Christians, have rights?  Will truth be spoken or will secrets and lies pervade?  Will they choose life?

This is up to the Egyptian people.  Yet as they take their first steps of freedom, as a nation we can reflect on the same question.  Are we a nation of self-righteous pride where the poor and unfortunate are considered deserving of their suffering?  Are we a nation of hedonism where anything goes in the name of liberty?  Or will we choose the life-filled way?

Will the US stand for life and freedom for all people, inside and outside our borders?  Will we work, as a people, for equal rights for all?  Will we speak truth in our legislative halls, in our courtrooms, in our classrooms, in our churches?  Do we choose life in the fullest sense?

And in our own lives, what do we do with our freedom?  Are our lives reflections of our identity as children of God?  Do we act in ways that link us to our sisters and brothers here in Chicago and around the world?  Do we gather in places, like this one, where we can be reminded of our identity and its call?  Do we read the Bible and delight in the life its Law brings?  Can we use the promise of the Gospel to release ourselves from self-righteous bigotry and self-defeating hedonism?

We may be many things to many people, we may claim a host of identities, but do we live our live first and foremost as Christians?  We are beloved children of God freed by grace.  It is up to us what we will do with our freedom.  Let us choose life and by doing so, extend life to others.  This is our responsibility and our call.

Thanks be to God.

Amen