Who We Are: We Walk by Faith, Not by Sight

In these weeks that we’ve been reflecting on what was happening in the church in Corinth, on the conflict there, not only between members of the community, but between the community and Paul himself, one of the issues Paul has been dealing with is that of his apostolic authority. His ministry has come under attack. He, personally, has come under attack, with false apostles and members of the congregation challenging his attributes as a leader. That he is not polished enough. That he is not refined enough. That his speaking skills are inadequate. 

What Paul understands by these attacks is that the church in Corinth does not yet grasp the full meaning of apostleship. Not just his apostleship, but theirs, as well. 

And so, we begin this morning in the fifth chapter of 2nd Corinthians, where Paul continues the idea from last week of the treasure we have in earthen vessels. Paul’s theology was deeply grounded in the life of Christ, specifically in the death and resurrection of Christ. As this first part of today’s reading opens, we see Paul using metaphor - images familiar to him and to those in the Corinthian church - in order to help them understand the nature of life and death. We read, beginning with verse 1.

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling — if indeed, when we have taken it off we will not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord — for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.  --2 Cor. 5:1-10 (NRSV)

Paul begins with the metaphor of a “tent,” something that, as a tentmaker by trade, he would have been familiar with. And an image that the Corinthians would have been familiar with, as well. Many people lived in tents at this time. Paul begins with this phrase: for we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed…” The word translated as tent can also be translated as tabernacle. This is something Paul does, too, in his writing. He will use a word or a phrase that just by its very use conjures up a much fuller picture. For example, to use the word tabernacle immediately connects Paul to his Jewish-ness. The tabernacle, or tent of meeting, was the structure constructed by Israel following God’s design, which was to be dismantled and moved with them throughout the wilderness. The tabernacle was the place where God promised to be present with them on their journey.

Then, the second word Paul uses here, is the word translated “destroyed.” When used, though, in tent-making imagery, this word really means dismantling. As one would dismantle a tent. 

And then, Paul continues on. Using additional metaphors of clothing and, especially, the contrast of being naked with being further clothed. 

So, what is Paul getting at? We, in the Western church, have become much more concerned about where we go after we die. But, the early Christians weren’t as concerned about this. Their focus was on God’s kingdom. And the unveiling of God’s kingdom here. “On earth as it is in heaven.” So, their groaning is not to be released from this earthly tent, but that a new and promised house might be placed over it - a house not made with human hands, but one made with God’s hands. And one that is forever. 

Paul uses these metaphors to provide a framework for the Corinthians and us to understand, not only his ministry, but ours, too. A framework that is centered around the Trinity. That the power of the Creator, who raises Jesus from the dead, is at work in us. Dismantling the battered old tent to place a new, free one over it - the new, free person God is making us into. Clothing our nakedness in new, permanent clothing. Crafting the eternal being God is making us into. 

The death and resurrection of Jesus shapes us. And prepares us for when he will come again on earth to judge. Us. And all people. Because how we live into this freedom we have been given matters. Otherwise, we simply cheapen the grace God has showered on us.

So, the pouring out of the Holy Spirit is us in our downpayment. Our security. Our promise and foretaste of this new creation. Working in us and through us to create new life. Life that often bursts in upon us. That surprises us even in the midst of trouble and suffering. We, like Jesus, move from death and suffering to life. Because we are image bearers of Christ.

This is where Paul continues, beginning with verse 11.

Therefore, knowing the fear of the Lord, we try to persuade others; but we ourselves are well known to God, and I hope that we are also well known to your consciences. We are not commending ourselves to you again, but giving you an opportunity to boast about us, so that you may be able to answer those who boast in outward appearance and not in the heart. For if we are beside ourselves, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you. For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.  --2 Cor. 5:11-21 (NRSV)

This reforming, this re-clothing that God does in us through the power of the Holy Spirit, changes the way we look at the world. Giving us a new lens with which to view the world. Through the resurrected Jesus. Seeing glimpses of the long-promised new creation bursting into our world. And a hope that is perhaps best expressed in the words of Rev. Juanita Rasmus, pastor of St. John United Methodist in downtown Houston:

I think all things are going to be made new. You know, if nothing else, we can look at nature. You see a pine tree, experiencing some decay. And over time it falls to the ground. And over time it begins to house various animals that live off of the substance of that decay. Then, over time, that pine tree falls and crumbles. And, then, it becomes the floor of the forest and, in the midst of all of that, it becomes the basis for a new pine tree. So, yeah, if we can see that in nature, then we can see that in our own nature - in our human nature. That, indeed, all things can become made new. 

That gives me hope. That gives me hope, because I see a lot of people suffering. And I know that, even in my own suffering, God gives me an opportunity to dig down deep past all of the pain, and the disappointment, and the hurt, and the rejection, and the injustices. And in the midst of that, he'll let me see just a glimpse of something life-giving. That's what gives me hope. Hope not only for me, but for everybody.  Hope for the young African-American men who get shot because they wear hoodies or their music is determined by somebody as being too loud. I have to have hope. I don't know how I'd live if I didn't. 

So I trust that the same power that was able to resurrect Jesus will resurrect me. And that person who would shoot another person for their music being too loud. I don't want to be surprised when I get to heaven. I want to see this man redeemed. I want to see Hitler redeemed. I want to see slave masters redeemed. I want to see that. I long to see that. Because I think that is the hope that Christ offers me. That, if that pine tree can in the midst of decay become the ground of new life, then so can I. So can we. 

So, yeah, that's what I hope.*

May we walk in faith, not by sight. Even in times of deep struggle and pain. Trusting in the power of God’s steadfast love to work death out of life in us and through us, that we may become the ground of life in our world. Amen.

Preached August 9, 2020, online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: 2 Cor. 5:1-21; Mark 8:22-26

*Quote from Rev. Juanita Rasmus taken from a video interview, entitled The Massive Living Program, found online at The Work of the People (www.theworkofthepeople.com)

Rekindling Our Faith, Rekindling Our Imagination - Part 4

Now even the first covenant had regulations for worship and an earthly sanctuary. For a tent was constructed, the first one, in which were the lampstand, the table, and the bread of the Presence; this is called the Holy Place. Behind the second curtain was a tent called the Holy of Holies. In it stood the golden altar of incense and the ark of the covenant overlaid on all sides with gold, in which there were a golden urn holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant; above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat. Of these things we cannot speak now in detail.

Such preparations having been made, the priests go continually into the first tent to carry out their ritual duties; but only the high priest goes into the second, and he but once a year, and not without taking the blood that he offers for himself and for the sins committed unintentionally by the people. By this the Holy Spirit indicates that the way into the sanctuary has not yet been disclosed as long as the first tent is still standing. This is a symbol of the present time, during which gifts and sacrifices are offered that cannot perfect the conscience of the worshiper, but deal only with food and drink and various baptisms, regulations for the body imposed until the time comes to set things right.

But when Christ came as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation), he entered once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption. For if the blood of goats and bulls, with the sprinkling of the ashes of a heifer, sanctifies those who have been defiled so that their flesh is purified, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to worship the living God! --Hebrews 9:1-14 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

If you were one of the newly-freed people of Israel, going to worship at the tabernacle in the wilderness, this is as far in as you could go. In that first place of worship for Israel, there were three parts. The first - the outer courtyard - was where the altar of sacrifice was placed. It was here that, if you were seeking to honor God, to ask for God’s blessing, or make amends for something you had done wrong - it was here that you would come. With grain. With an animal, such as a bull or ram or dove or pigeon. Even with the fat and inner organs from certain animals. You would come to this place with your offering and it was here, in this outer courtyard, where the priests would, if required, slaughter your offering and then place it on the altar of sacrifice. 

If you were of the priestly class in Israel, from the line of Levi, you could go into the next place - the inner courtyard. The Holy place. It was here that you would go about your daily ritual duties. Offering incense morning and evening as you came in to dress and trim the lamps - lamps that were situated beside a table, called the Table of the Presence. Each Sabbath, you would eat the Bread of the Presence - loaves of bread that had been set in place the previous Sabbath as a continual offering to God. These loaves were a visible token for Israel of the communion between God and God’s people. As priests, after eating the bread, you would replace the loaves with freshly baked bread, to be eaten and replaced the following Sabbath. 

If, however, you were the high priest, you were the only person who could enter the next place - the inner sanctuary. The Holy of Holies. This inner sanctum was separated from the courtyard by a curtain. It contained the Ark of the Covenant, which was the most sacred object in all of Israel. It was here, in a box-like container where three sacred religious objects were located. A golden bowl containing manna - the bread that God had provided to sustain Israel in the wilderness. It contained Aaron’s rod, which God had caused to bud and flower when the people disputed his priestly role. Then, finally, it contained the two tablets of stone upon which was written the Ten Commandments. Which represented the covenant that God had made with Israel at Mount Sinai. On top of the Ark was the Mercy Seat. On either end were two gold cherubim. It was between these cherubim where God was present. Hovering over the Mercy Seat in the form of a cloud. 

As high priest, you would enter this space- the Holy of Holies - on Yom Kippur and offer up a sacrifice for all Israel. A sacrifice for all sins committed unintentionally by the people. Part of this sacrifice included two male goats, one of which would be offered up. The high priest would then take the second goat, place his hands on the head of the animal, and confess over it all of Israel’s offenses, their rebellious sins and all other sins. He would then send this goat - this scape-goat - away. Out into the wilderness. Carrying the sins of Israel away. 

This is the tabernacle and the connected ritual around it that the writer of Hebrews is talking about in our text today. This earthly place - this worldly sanctuary - connected to that first covenant made between God and the people at Sinai.

But, do you notice something about this place? Do you notice how far God is in this ritual from God’s people? How there is no direct contact - no direct relationship - between God and God’s people. But that, in order to get to God, you have to go through priests and, ultimately, through the high priest. To get to God. To be in God’s presence.

But, ultimately, God is a God of relationships. I’ve spoken before about the perichoretic nature of God - that God, as the Triune God, is in relationship with Godself, with God’s three persons: Creator, Son, and Holy Spirit. That our relational God has created us to be in relationship with God. And also with each other. That we aren’t intended to go it alone. But that God intends we are together. This is the wholeness God desires. This is the shalom God wants.

And so, as God looked at this earthly sanctuary, God could see its weaknesses and its limitations. How it separated God from God’s people. How there was no “way” into the inner sanctuary. No direct “way” into God’s presence for all of humanity.

And so, God determined, as our text says today, to “make things right.” To do something new. To send Christ as our own high priest. Our own mediator. To tear down that curtain that separates us from the presence of God. To break down once and for all the things that keep us from God. To open the “way” for all people into the presence of God. God has flung the door open wide open for us and for all people.

Why? Because God is a God of relationships. God wants to be in relationship with us. And God wants us to be in relationship with others. And with all of creation. This is the new thing that God is doing. The “new covenant” that our text speaks of. A covenant of wholeness of relationship. With God and with each other.

This is what our text is talking about this morning. About how God has opened the door in a surprising way. And about how God has acted and continues to act to restore relationships. Relationships that our own human sins have closed off.

In 1619, 400 years ago this month, twenty people from Africa were brought to the shores of this country. To Jamestown, Virginia. And they were sold into slavery. This was the beginning of 250 years of the intentional enslavement of a people in our country. The beginning of a transatlantic slave trade that ripped African peoples away from their rich traditions, their history, and their assets. It led to the systematic oppression of people of African descent in the US and throughout the world. To colonial and post-colonial policies. To racist beliefs, policies and practices. To imbalances of privilege, power, and wealth. And to the continuing demand for low or no-wage labor that are the manifestations of this legacy of slavery.

And if you think the church has been immune to this. That the church has not been a party to this legacy. Think again. For centuries, scripture was used to justify slavery. And, while there were some Lutherans in the south who questioned its morality, along with a few in the north, “on the whole,” R.M. Chapman writes in his book about Lutherans and the legacy of slavery.  “On the whole, Lutherans did not become strong anti-slavery advocates, nor did they champion the cause of free blacks in the North or the South.” Lutherans were complicit in slavery as they largely stood by. Passively. Accepting the practice as the law of the land. And, even though much of our own Lutheran church history emphasizes being an immigrant church, during the Jim Crow era and much of the civil rights era and later years, Lutherans as a whole remained on the sidelines. Silent. With only a few small pockets of advocacy and action.

Too often we hear in ourselves that we are not racist. That we are not privileged. We may have grown up poor ourselves and with few resources. We have worked hard for what we have. And that is true. Yet, what we fail to see is that we have a system of privilege that has made our lives easier. We fail to look at the log in our eye. To see the rights and privileges that we have had. That our ancestors have had. Privileges that have allowed us to access good education. To choose where we might live. To get loans and purchase property and assets. To build wealth. All while many others have not had those same privileges. This unearned privilege runs deep within us. And we cannot escape it.

Yet, God continues to do new things. To rekindle our faith. And to challenge our imagination. Through Christ, God continues to draw us back into relationship. With God and with one another. More deeply. So that we might begin to understand the harm our sin has caused in our relationships. That we might repent of that sin. And that we might begin to work alongside the Spirit to change the world in which we live. To tear down the systemic walls that divide us. So that our world might be the heavenly sanctuary God desires. The place of wholeness God wants. The shalom that God seeks for us, for all people, and for all of creation.

For these - for these new things that God is doing - may our response be, “Thanks be to God!” Amen.