Promises Made, Promises Broken: God's House

Over these past many weeks, we have been moving through the Hebrew scriptures under the theme, Promises Made, Promises Broken. We have learned about the great promises that God has made to humanity. And ways in which humankind has made and often broken promises, both to God and to one another. 

This idea of promise - or covenant - is one of the most important themes in the Bible. The covenants in scripture are the background upon which the entire narrative of God and of God’s story of redemption are built. They’re like the backbone of the Bible. 

From Genesis on, God enters into a series of formal, covenanted relationships, one after another, in order to rescue God’s world. Understanding these divine-human relationship stories are central to our understanding who Jesus is. That for us, is pretty important, isn’t it? So, we’re going to remember, for just a few minutes, these key biblical covenants. 

We began the fall at the beginning. Creation. God made this beautiful world and placed humankind in it to care for it and to partner with God to bring more good out of it. But the humans don’t want to partner with God. They rebel and try to create a world on their own terms. It’s this broken partnership that the Bible gives as an explanation for why we’re stuck in a world of corruption and injustice and death. So God selects a small group of people and makes a new partnership with them. God’s purpose is to use this covenant relationship to renew God’s partnership with all humanity.

There are four central covenants in the Hebrew scripture through which God is forming a covenant family into which all the world will be invited. In the first covenant with Noah, God promises him, his family and all living creatures that God will never again destroy earth. No matter how evil it becomes.

In the second covenant with Abraham, God enters into a partnership with him. And promises Abraham a huge family that will inherit a promised piece of land in Canaan. And that through Abraham and his family, all humanity will be blessed. 

The third covenant is with this huge family that eventually became the nation of Israel. God rescued Israel from bondage in Egypt and promised to make them God’s treasured possession. A holy nation. Set apart. And with whom God would personally dwell in their midst and bring into the land originally promised to Abraham. God would be their God. And they would be God’s people - a kingdom of priests that would show God’s goodness and glory to all the nations. 

Today, we come to the fourth covenant. Beginning last week and continuing today, we find that Israel has entered Canaan, the promised land. Eventually, to be like the surrounding nations, they demanded a king. God appointed Saul. Yet, he fails to obey God. And so, God chooses another king for Israel. David. Son of Jesse. From the tribe of Judah. King David becomes a successful leader, overcoming Israel’s enemies. Uniting the tribes. And establishing Jerusalem as the political center of Israel, where he builds his palace - a “house of cedar.” Then, in the chapter before today’s reading, David restores the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. Making it, not only the political center of Israel, but it’s religious center, as well. It is here where our story begins. In 2nd Samuel, chapter 7.  

Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, “See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.” Nathan said to the king, “Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.”

But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, “Why have you not built me a house of cedar?” Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel; and I will give you rest from all your enemies. Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me. When he commits iniquity, I will punish him with a rod such as mortals use, with blows inflicted by human beings. But I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever. In accordance with all these words and with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David. (2 Samuel 7:1-17 NRSV)

One of the first things we notice in this story is that the narrator does not refer to David by name. Instead, he is always called “the king.” This is to underscore that David - and not Saul - is now king. It also underscores his role as the leader of the nation Israel. Yet, when God speaks, beginning in verse 5, God always refers to him as, “my servant, David.” God knows him by name. 

It isn’t long before David gets a grand idea. He has a house to live in. It’s time to build a house for God. Something stable. And permanent. And secure. 

Now it’s not entirely clear here what his motivation is. Was he simply coming from a place of gratitude for all that God had done for him and for Israel? Or maybe this was a way to stay in God’s good graces? Or maybe, just maybe, it was a way for this earthly monarch to attempt to contain the heavenly monarch. To put God in a box. To control God.  

But, whatever David’s motivation is here, it is clear that he does not fully understand the nature of God’s grace. Whatever God has already done for David, God will continue to do more. To make for David a great name. To give him rest from all his enemies. And, for Israel, to plant them so they may live in their own place, secure. Where they will no longer be disturbed or afflicted by evildoers. 

But, the promises don’t stop there. It is in the next verses where God pivots on David's use of the word, “house.” Promising unconditionally to make a new kind of “house” for David. Not a dwelling place of cedar, but a dynasty. And from this dynasty, from this royal line, will come a descendant. A Messiah who will rule God’s kingdom. Forever. And ever. And ever.

As we hear this story, I’m struck by its similarities to the Reformation. One of the main catalysts for action at the time of the Reformation was the desire of the church to build a bigger and better house. It was the selling of indulgences to collect funds for this newer, bigger cathedral that set the Reformation in motion. As if God can be contained in a building. 

The story of King David. The story of the Reformation. All of these are stories of God’s great reversals. God recentering the direction of the action, putting God’s promises once again, front and center. And driving the question, “What is God doing?”

In this year 2020 with all the terrible things that have happened and the chaos that seems to surround us. As we have been pushed beyond the walls of our churches into this virtual place is this perhaps, another of God’s great reversals? God recentering us, once again, to ask the question, “What is God doing?” And, as God is once more being placed at the center, how might our own imaginations be reshaped for how we are, in fact, seeking to live out God’s will in our world today? 

What we do know, though, from the stories we have heard this fall is that God keeps God’s promises. It is this that we, as God’s people, cling to today. God keeps God’s promises. And God will find a way - a surprising new way - to be faithful. And, as with David, to shower us with grace upon grace upon grace. 

And so I end this now, where we began this morning. In Psalm 46.

God is our refuge and strength,

    a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,

    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam,

    though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

“Be still, and know that I am God!

    I am exalted among the nations,

    I am exalted in the earth.”

The Lord of hosts is with us;

    the God of Jacob is our refuge. Amen.

Preached October 25, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Reformation Sunday

Readings: 2 Samuel 7:1-17; Luke 1:30-33

God's Way of Leading: History Repeats

Rehoboam went to Shechem, for all Israel had come to Shechem to make him king. When Jeroboam son of Nebat heard of it (for he was still in Egypt, where he had fled from King Solomon), then Jeroboam returned from Egypt. And they sent and called him; and Jeroboam and all the assembly of Israel came and said to Rehoboam, “Your father made our yoke heavy. Now therefore lighten the hard service of your father and his heavy yoke that he placed on us, and we will serve you.” He said to them, “Go away for three days, then come again to me.” So the people went away.

Then King Rehoboam took counsel with the older men who had attended his father Solomon while he was still alive, saying, “How do you advise me to answer this people?” They answered him, “If you will be a servant to this people today and serve them, and speak good words to them when you answer them, then they will be your servants forever.” But he disregarded the advice that the older men gave him, and consulted with the young men who had grown up with him and now attended him. He said to them, “What do you advise that we answer this people who have said to me, ‘Lighten the yoke that your father put on us’?” The young men who had grown up with him said to him, “Thus you should say to this people who spoke to you, ‘Your father made our yoke heavy, but you must lighten it for us’; thus you should say to them, ‘My little finger is thicker than my father’s loins. Now, whereas my father laid on you a heavy yoke, I will add to your yoke. My father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.’”

So Jeroboam and all the people came to Rehoboam the third day, as the king had said, “Come to me again the third day.” The king answered the people harshly. He disregarded the advice that the older men had given him and spoke to them according to the advice of the young men, “My father made your yoke heavy, but I will add to your yoke; my father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.” So the king did not listen to the people, because it was a turn of affairs brought about by the Lord that he might fulfill his word, which the Lord had spoken by Ahijah the Shilonite to Jeroboam son of Nebat.

When all Israel saw that the king would not listen to them, the people answered the king,

“What share do we have in David?
    We have no inheritance in the son of Jesse.
To your tents, O Israel!
    Look now to your own house, O David.”

So Israel went away to their tents. But Rehoboam reigned over the Israelites who were living in the towns of Judah.

Then Jeroboam built Shechem in the hill country of Ephraim, and resided there; he went out from there and built Penuel. Then Jeroboam said to himself, “Now the kingdom may well revert to the house of David. If this people continues to go up to offer sacrifices in the house of the Lord at Jerusalem, the heart of this people will turn again to their master, King Rehoboam of Judah; they will kill me and return to King Rehoboam of Judah.” So the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold. He said to the people, “You have gone up to Jerusalem long enough. Here are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” He set one in Bethel, and the other he put in Dan.  --1 Kings 12:1-17, 25-29 (NRSV)

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

I’d like to tell you the story of two judges: Judge Cohen and Judge Klein. Both Jewish. One older - Judge Cohen. One younger - Judge Klein. Judge Cohen sat on the bench for over 30 years. Judge Klein was new to the bench, having just been appointed as a judge. Both of them, served at different times as the judge overseeing complex litigation in all of Los Angeles County. The complex litigation court is one that hears and presides over the cream of the crop when it comes to caseloads. Not your typical personal injury or motor vehicle accident. But cases that involve large numbers of people. That have substantial impact. Cases like class actions. Or coordinated cases - cases that deal with national issues, such as those related to asbestos exposure, or breast implants, or huge fires. Or massive price-fixing cases. They are cases that bring in the brightest and most powerful attorneys from around, not only the United States, but across the world.

Having served as the judicial officer overseeing the complex litigation courtroom for 20 of his 30 years, Judge Cohen had been responsible for decisions affecting not only California, but the U. S. and even the law in other countries. 

One might have expected him, then, to be incredibly proud of this work. One might have even expected that he might have become somewhat arrogant. After all, by the time he retired, his name was on the majority of published opinions in complex litigation cases throughout our country.

But, this was not who he was. Judge Cohen was, by his very nature, a humble man. He carried massive legal briefs home each night in a brown paper shopping bag. He read every word. And, when the powerful attorneys had amassed in the courtroom for argument, with one quiet question, he would hone into the very heart of the matter before him, would give space for all the parties to make their responses, would listen respectfully and carefully to each argument, and would then make his decision, most of which would hold up on appeal. An example of a humble, gentle, public servant.

Judge Klein took Judge Cohen’s place after he retired. Now, Judge Klein was as brilliant, if not more so, than Judge Cohen. Perhaps it was his lack of experience. Perhaps it was his sense of insecurity at filling the very big shoes left by Judge Cohen. But, when Judge Klein took the bench it was as if he had something to prove. Berating attorneys. Mocking their arguments. Often failing to remain neutral in an argument, instead deliberately trying to provoke the parties. Even verbally abusive to his staff. The power of his position appearing to go to his head. Feeding his ego. Making him arrogant, thinking that everything was about him. A type of “me-ism” that often occurs as one gains power and wealth.

This story of two judges, Judge Cohen and Judge Klein, is analogous today to our story of two kings: Rehoboam and Jeroboam.

Rehoboam was the son of Solomon. Solomon, who was the son of David, who we heard about last week as he was anointed king over a unified kingdom of Israel - all twelve tribes together under one king, David. Who reigned for 40 years. 

David’s son, Solomon, succeeded him in the dynasty. We know Solomon for his wisdom and as a great builder, especially of the temple. We also know him for his hundreds of wives, many of whom were from foreign countries. Whose gods distracted him. So that, in addition to the God of Israel, Solomon began to worship their gods, as well. It was because of this - because of Solomon’s lack of fidelity to God - that God declared judgment - that God would dissolve the united kingdom and take the northern tribes from him and from the house of David. And that this would happen during the reign of Solomon’s son, Rehoboam, one of our two kings in today’s story.

Solomon had another problem. Although he was a great builder, he did this on the backs of the people. By imposing huge taxes on them. And by conscripting them into forced labor. Into slavery. The man Solomon had placed as overseer of this enslaved workforce was none other than Jeroboam, the second in our tale today of two kings. While Jeroboam was in this role of overseer, God sent the prophet Ahijah to anoint as king over the northern tribes. And, as you can imagine, he quickly went into exile to preserve himself from the reach of Solomon’s power.

As today’s story opens, Solomon is now dead. Rehoboam has succeeded his father. The northern tribes now call Jeroboam out of exile to lead them to meet with the new king of the house of David. To seek from him a lightening of their load. A lifting of the heavy yoke his father has placed on them. That he might reduce the levels of slavery that they have suffered under Solomon’s reign. And, that, if he does, then they will serve him. Rehoboam sends them away for three days.

During these three days, he seeks counsel. First, he goes to the elders. Those who have served his father. To seek advice. They tell him to listen to the people. To reduce the load. To be a servant to them. That, if he does this, if he leads them in this way, then the people will serve him forever. 

But, Rehoboam is new to this position. Perhaps it's that he has something to prove. Or maybe he’s just immature. He seeks additional counsel from his own friends, his younger friends who now attend him. It is their advice he follows. So, when Jeroboam and the northern tribes return after the three days have passed, Rehoboam defaults to the immature, arrogant, young man he is. Mine is bigger than yours, he says to them. A response that is exactly how bullies and immature teenagers act. An understanding of power that is at its very worst. Rehoboam adds to the burden of the oppressed, rather than easing it. And the kingdom falls apart.

Today, we celebrate Reformation Sunday. Like the story of the two judges, this story of the two kings mirrors in some ways what was happening during the 16th century. The church had become a worldly, dominant power. Bishops sought and gained their seats through the wealth of their families. To finish the building of St. Peter’s in Rome, this great edifice to the glory of the church, it’s leaders sought to sell forgiveness in the form of indulgences. Those in power sought to lord it over the poor, trying to find more and more ways to extract wealth from them. It was this that Luther and others railed against. It was this that led to the split of the church, like the split of the kingdom. A difficult thing that we still live into today. 

In our story, Jeroboam was called to be a servant-leader. But, then, he, too, begins to create centers of worship away from Jerusalem to protect his own power and position. Eventually, putting up golden calves for the people to worship. Just as there was sin on both sides of the split of the united kingdom of Israel, so, too, there was sin on both sides of the Reformation. 

It is in our human nature, that, as we begin to amass privilege and power and control, we begin to move away from God. We begin to rely upon ourselves and those things in our lives that we set up as our own gods. Our intellect. Our money and profit. Our homes and our families. Even our religion. These things - these gods - that pull us away from God. This is the theology of glory that Luther wrote about in the Heidelberg Disputation. Where it is all about us. About me and mine. A pervasive “me-ism” that pulls us away from God.

Instead, we are called to follow Jesus, the true servant-leader. This is the heart of Luther’s theology of the cross. That, in Jesus, God comes to us. God meets us in our sin and in our suffering. When we recognize that we cannot do this on our own. God comes to us at great cost. A cost that most of us are unwilling to pay ourselves. A cost borne for us, who can do nothing to change who we are. But, a cost borne for us by God, who is the only one through whom we are changed. 

This is to be the shape of our Christian lives. Where we seek to follow the example of Jesus. We, who, in him, have become perfectly free, lord of all, subject to none. But, also, perfectly dutiful, servant of all, subject to all. It is in this paradox where lordship finds its expression in service. And where the good news of Jesus Christ takes root in us to change us into the servant-leaders God calls us to be.  “Whoever wishes to become great among you, must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you, must be a slave of all.”

May God grant us a life fully claimed by Jesus, that we might fully serve others. Amen.

Preached October 27, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Reformation Sunday

Readings: 1 Kings 12:1-17, 25-29; Mark 10:42-45; Psalm 46

Chasing Temples

Now King Hiram of Tyre sent his servants to Solomon, when he heard that they had anointed him king in place of his father; for Hiram had always been a friend to David. Solomon sent word to Hiram, saying, “You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Lord his God because of the warfare with which his enemies surrounded him, until the Lord put them under the soles of his feet. But now the Lord my God has given me rest on every side; there is neither adversary nor misfortune. So I intend to build a house for the name of the Lord my God, as the Lord said to my father David, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for my name.’

Then Solomon assembled the elders of Israel and all the heads of the tribes, the leaders of the ancestral houses of the Israelites, before King Solomon in Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of the city of David, which is Zion. All the people of Israel assembled to King Solomon at the festival in the month Ethanim, which is the seventh month. And all the elders of Israel came, and the priests carried the ark. So they brought up the ark of the Lord, the tent of meeting, and all the holy vessels that were in the tent; the priests and the Levites brought them up. King Solomon and all the congregation of Israel, who had assembled before him, were with him before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered. Then the priests brought the ark of the covenant of the Lord to its place, in the inner sanctuary of the house, in the most holy place, underneath the wings of the cherubim. For the cherubim spread out their wings over the place of the ark, so that the cherubim made a covering above the ark and its poles. The poles were so long that the ends of the poles were seen from the holy place in front of the inner sanctuary; but they could not be seen from outside; they are there to this day. There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets of stone that Moses had placed there at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites, when they came out of the land of Egypt. And when the priests came out of the holy place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord. 1 Kings 5:1-5; 8:1-13 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you on this 500th anniversary of the Reformation from the God of Jacob, the Lord of hosts, our refuge and our strength. Amen.

What an amazing day this is, isn’t it? It is not often that we able to participate in and celebrate such milestone anniversaries in the church. And it’s not often that we, in particular as Lutherans, experience one as significant as this one--the 500th anniversary of the posting of the 95 theses on the church door in Wittenburg.

So, it may seem that our text today--the story of the building and dedication of the temple by King Solomon--might be an unusual one for today. After all, should we be immersing ourselves in Romans--Paul’s letter in the New Testament that was so crucial to Luther’s breakthrough understanding. Or perhaps, it should be Psalm 46, the words that were the inspiration for Luther’s hymn, A Mighty Fortress, which we sang earlier and which is like a national anthem for us Lutherans.

Instead, today, we are considering Solomon. Solomon--king of Israel. Solomon--son of King David. 

In last week’s lesson David, Solomon’s father, had just been anointed by Samuel as king. By the time of today’s story, David is no longer alive. Yet, it was David, considered Israel’s greatest king, who reigned for 40 years over Israel, and who, during his reign, finally brought Israel into a time of peace and prosperity. David--this great king of Israel, who had, yes, stumbled badly along the way--yet, who with Bathsheba produced a son who would continue his dynasty. King Solomon.

There are four primary markers that characterize Solomon’s kingship over Israel--his extraordinary wisdom, his remarkable prosperity and wealth, his accomplishment of building the temple, and his penchant for marrying foreign women.

Today, our focus is on the building of the temple. 

Solomon had been chasing this idea of building a temple for some time. Although the idea began with his father, as Israel grew and prospered under Solomon’s reign and his kingdom experienced peace on every border, Solomon decided that it was time. That it was time that a temple must be built as God’s dwelling-place.  

It began on a positive note. It began with a desire that God would be at the center of the community, that worship of God would be central to the community, and that, in this important place, God would dwell. 

And, yet, there was a downside to this building. We learn in the chapters in between our reading today that it was built with forced labor from among the Israelites. And that it was funded through heavy taxation on the people. That, in order to create this grand structure, there was an oppressive price to pay on the part of many of the people.

In Luther’s day, Pope Leo X also chased the idea of building a temple. He sought to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome--a glorious, imposing and important tribute to the power and presence of God. A place where God might dwell. 

Yet, as with the construction in Solomon’s time, there was an oppressive price to be paid as funds were raised for this. In fact, the fund-raising was unscrupulous, particularly by Johann Tetzel, a German Dominican monk. It was Tetzel’s act of selling forgiveness that led to Luther’s challenge to the papacy. It was a challenge to Pope Leo to reclaim the focus of worship--that worship should be focused on the God who claims us and who calls us. It was Luther’s call to reclaim this focus in the face of practices that had become so oppressive to the people that led to the Reformation.

Chasing temples and the building of temples dedicated to God--well, it always starts out with the best of intentions. We want to do something great for God. “The glory of the Lord fills the house of the lord--I have built you a place to dwell in forever,” Solomon proclaims as the temple is dedicated.

And, yet, it inevitably all falls apart. We, human beings, inevitably end up creating a structure that fails. As much as Solomon and Pope Leo were trying to do something good in their own times, the structures they built eventually become corrupt and oppressive to the people. 

Our own church structures today are in need of reform. We are in a time when it is no longer the cultural expectation that one go to church. Our congregations continue to shrink. Yet, we in this post-Christendom time continue to operate under an old model--one that may have worked in the 1950’s, but which will not work now. We are in need of our own reforming to find new, more efficient and faithful means of participating in God’s mission.

As long as we, like Solomon and Pope Leo and all those before us--as long as we continue to chase temples. To chase places in which we seek to contain God. Places that eventually become oppressive and ineffective and that lose God as their center. As long as we continue to do this, well, the need for reform will continue to exist. 

Jesus dealt with this in his time. In our Gospel today from John 2, Jesus was dealing with the questions of a deeply flawed institution--a second temple built to glory God that had become corrupted and lost God as its center. Jesus is the one--the only one--who does the reforming. Jesus is the one who enters into the temple. Jesus is the one who cleanses it, an action that will raise questions about his authority. Jesus is the one who responds with these words, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

You see, the true place of God’s presence is a person, rather than any building. Any structures we might create are transient. God’s presence is embodied in one person--Jesus Christ. Christ is at the center of our worship. Christ is the mark of our identity. Christ is the person who binds us together in community. In proclaiming these words--”In three days I will build it up!”--Christ begins a profound word of reformation. A reformation that is reshaping the lives of people around the center--around God’s presence in the crucified and risen Christ.

Over these past few weeks, we’ve been talking about our own ministry here. We’ve been asking each of you to prayerfully consider how you might give more to our ministry, both financially and of your time. In just a few moments, we will be asking you to present your pledges for 2018.

These requests haven’t been intended to oppress. They aren’t intended to guilt you into giving more of your money and resources. Or more of your time and talent.

Instead they are an opportunity. A moment in time for each of us to prayerfully look at our lives and the life of this congregation and to re-form ourselves. To re-focus. To re-center on the crucified and risen Christ--in each of our lives and, particularly, in this place. And to stop chasing building temples and seeking to contain God. But, instead, to re-commit ourselves and our ministry to a God for whom there are no limitations. And to be prepared to be changed and reshaped in a way we could never have imagined. Just as with the Reformation some 500 years ago.  

May God grant it. Amen.

Un Unknown Monk

Recently, I was invited to write a column on the 500th anniversary of the Reformation for the Oldham Era, a weekly newspaper published and distributed in Oldham County, Kentucky, where Grace & Glory Lutheran--the congregation I pastor--is situated. Following are my thoughts:

Five hundred years ago this month, on October 31, 1517, an unknown monk posted a series of 95 statements on the church door in Wittenberg, Germany, unknowingly beginning a movement that would forever change the world.  That monk’s name was Martin Luther. The movement became known as the Reformation.

Luther never intended to start a movement. He had grown ever disturbed and frustrated with the church--a huge, monolithic institution headquartered far away in Rome with vast amounts of money and land, and, at a macro level, substantial power, influence and control over the politics and economy of Europe. Luther had also grown frustrated with the control the church exercised at a much more micro level among its parishioners.

In Luther’s day, Europe operated under a feudal system, where nearly all of the money and property was held by just a few--the nobility, the 1% of that time, plus the church. The nobility and the church worked closely together to control the masses, keeping people locked into an economic system where one could never achieve even moderate wealth and a religious system where one could never escape the guilt and shame of not measuring up to the legalistic teachings of the church.

Luther, himself, had experienced much of this guilt and shame as young monk. As a junior faculty member at a university in small-town Germany, he was tormented by the demand for righteousness before God. “I did not love, yes, I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners, and secretly, if not blasphemously, certainly murmuring greatly, I was angry with God,” he wrote.

Luther poured over the Scriptures, trying to find answers to free himself from this torment and from his “disturbed conscience.” It was in his study of Romans, specifically of Romans 1:17, that Luther experienced a theological and spiritual breakthrough. “The righteous will live by faith,” he read. For the first time, he began to understand that keeping the law--the commandments and other natural law--had nothing to do with his salvation. He began to see that there was nothing he could do, no good work that he could perform, that would be enough to save him, to make him right with God. Rather, that what saved him was faith--faith in the life-giving work of Christ dying on the cross for all people. And this faith was freely offered to him and to all by a generous, loving and life-giving God.

This was incredibly freeing for Luther. He began, then, to fully understand the nature of God through the lens of that cross--that God was a god of love and not a god of vengeance or punishment. He began to see that God wanted him and all people to be freed from shame and guilt and, then, in response to this freedom, to turn back to the world and serve it—to be God’s hands at work in the world.

This was a radical understanding in Luther’s day--a new understanding of personal freedom that would result in the overthrow of the feudal system and usher in the ideas that would eventually lead to the Enlightenment and to the democratic ideas of individual freedom and liberty that would result in the French and American revolutions. It was a time of profound upheaval and change that would lead to new ways of thinking and new ways of living.

It was radical in Luther’s day. It is just as radical in our day.

We live in a similar time as Luther. Just as the invention of the printing press revolutionized communication in his time, so, in just a few short decades, the invention of the internet has revolutionized our ways of communicating. The world is a much larger place. We are more exposed to other cultures, religions and ways of being that are very different from what many of us grew up with.

Is it perhaps possible that God is at work in our world today? That God is continuing to work through the Luthers of our time to reform the world once again? To lead us to new ways of thinking and new ways of living, just as God did in the 16th century? That God might be continuing to reveal to us even more of God’s true nature of infinite love and justice--a nature we often seek to contain within our own limited imaginations? 

I believe that this is so. And I believe this because I know and believe that God is always creating--bringing life out of death, light out of dark places, order out of chaos, and new ways of being out of times of change and upheaval.


God is at work today. Just as God was at work in 1517 through some unknown monk.