Thursday, May 26, 2005

Sermon: "Downward Mobility"

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11



Today’s Gospel reading follows immediately upon the heels of Jesus’ baptism. Having left Galilee, Jesus arrives on the banks of the Jordan River and presents himself to his cousin John the Baptist. Jesus persuades the wiry preacher it is both fitting and right that Jesus should submit himself to the waters of baptism. After some disputation John agrees and calls for Jesus into the water. As Jesus is being raised up out of the water we are told at once the heavens open and the Spirit of God descends upon him like a dove. “And a voice from heaven was heard saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, on whom my favor rests’” (Matt 3:16-17). Here begins ministry of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. This is the conferring of his messianic mission. It is a charge given to Jesus to live into his baptism and to walk obediently in the path toward his own destiny.

Immediately, we are told, Jesus is led away into the wilderness and to have that charge put to the test. With ears to hear, listen to the Gospel account of Jesus’ temptation:

"Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread." 4 But he answered, "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6 saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, "He will command his angels concerning you,' and "On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'" 7 Jesus said to him, "Again it is written, "Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" 8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; 9 and he said to him, "All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me." 10 Jesus said to him, "Away with you, Satan! For it is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.' Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him."
(Matthew 4:1-11)


One central question binds all of these temptations: What kind of son will Jesus be? Will he conform to the image we might expect of one worthy to be called son of God by exercising his dominion over man and nature? Will he set up his throne on Zion and rule the world? Will he subdue all the nations and align them, through force if necessary, with the will and the way of his Father? This is certainly what we might expect from a son of God. I suggest to you, however, that here we may be being set up for the unexpected.

Jesus’ first temptation is an economic one. Jesus has gone into the wilderness to fast. This is not out of the ordinary for someone plotting revolution. Che Guevera retreated to the hills of Bolivia. Pancho Villa to the deserts of Mexico. Robin Hood to Sherwood Forest. Revolutionaries go to the deserts and to the wildnernesses of the world in order to know and suffer the pains of the common people. To, in the words of Bill Clinton, “feel their pain.” Revolutionaries live the plight of the poor and then seek to do something radical – something big – to change things. It is here that they end up subverting nature in their quest to right the wrongs of the world. In order to feed the poor they rob from the rich. In order to fight fascism they incite mass tyranny. For Jesus the temptation is to subvert nature by turning the stones to bread.

Satan then takes Jesus to the Holy City of Jerusalem. Standing atop the high walls that surrounded the City of David, Satan asks Jesus to prove his importance by casting himself over the ledge. The temptation is not a matter of trusting God to break his fall. Jesus is not afraid of death. What is instead being tested is Jesus’ willingness to dazzle the people of Israel by exploiting the miraculous – something we’ve all seen done in certain contexts. Satan wants the new preacher in town to make a big-to-do of all that is going on in his church.

Finally, Satan leads Jesus to a mountaintop and unfolds to him all the kingdoms of the world. “All these,” Satan says, “will be yours if you will just fall prostrate and worship me.” Here the temptation is to join forces with the Prince of the World and rule the nations.

Story Two
Henri Nouwen, in a short but very powerful book he wrote on Christian leadership, reflects upon each of these temptations Jesus suffered. According to Nouwen these are temptations we all face as we seek to live obediently as children of God. First, we want to be relevant. We want to meet the physical needs of the world we belong to by whatever means might be necessary. Secondly, we want to be spectacular. We want to show our own spiritual dynamism and uniqueness. We want people in Durham to say this church really means something. And, finally, we want to be powerful. We want the power to conform the world to the way we think God would have it ordered. This was the temptation the church gave into as thousands of Christian soldiers marched onward in the name of God during the Crusades. Holy wars, whether Christian, Islamic or Judaic, almost always involve people earnestly desiring to do big things for the kingdom.

Nouwen himself was no stranger to big things. Born in Holland, he became a Catholic priest, moved to the States and went on to become one of the true spiritual masters of the 20th century. A prolific writer, Nouwen enjoyed a vast readership from both Catholic and evangelical Protestant ranks throughout the world. In the academy his credentials were even more impressive. He rose to what is thought by many to be the crowning achievement of scholastic success – enjoying distinguished teaching appointments at Notre Dame, Yale and Harvard universities. Henri Nouwen had reached a pinnacle of spiritual influence shared by only a few other modern writers.

At mid-life, however, Nouwen began to travel down what he called the “descending way of Christ.” The descending journey took Nouwen to some of the poorest places in Central and South America. Deeply affected by the horrors of war, famine and disease Nouwen returned to North America with a shaken conscience. Unable to rid himself of the disturbing memory of the afflicted faces he had come in contact with, Nouwen resigned his teaching appointement. He accepted a position as pastor in the L’Arche Daybreak community – a place dedicated to serving and ministering to the needs of its mentally handicapped residents.

L’Arche Daybreak is a long way from the laurelled halls of Harvard University. In fact, as I was preparing for this sermon I happened to meet a young woman now at Duke Divinity School who spent time as an intern at L’Arche after college. This young lady put into perspective for me the incredible challenges being faced by the people of L’Arche when she described what a dilemma it is for most residents to simply put socks upon their feet each morning. Ivy League credentials mean nothing in places like L’Arche. The descending way of Christ upends the entire social pyramid, defying all our assumptions of what it means to be relevant, spectacular and powerful.

Perhaps one of my professors at Duke, Richard Lischer, captured well the descending way of Christ when he quipped that after spending several years contemplating the metaphysical riddles of God, sin, theodicy and redemption, young preachers soon find out that all the church really wants is someone who can play the guitar. To be relevant is seldom to be famous or brilliant or even very popular. To be relevant is to help another change her socks.

Story Three

Of course the world’s ideas are different. The world tells us that ascent, not descent, is the hallmark of human endeavor. It’s up the corporate ladder, on to the next big thing, toward whatever else might make us seem more relevant, more spectacular and more well-respected to our friends, our neighbors and our selves. We are being lied to. These are the lies of the deceiver and we are in grave danger of being taken by them – hook, line and sinker.

Adam bit. Satan came to Adam promising more than he had and more than he was. Adam too could have the knowledge of good and evil. It was his destiny. If only Adam would reach up, high into the branches of that tree he too could be like God. Adam did just that. He reached up, extended his arm and then lifted himself upon his tiptoes and plucked himself the sweetest, ripest, juiciest Georgia peach that has ever been tasted.

In today’s age we are often brought to the point of asking if this story really happened. That is a valid question, but no the best question. The best question to ask is whether or not that story is really true. I think, if we are candid with ourselves, we have to admit that there is no truer story we’ve ever told about ourselves than the story of our fall.

Paul’s letter to the Romans tells us that the story of Adam is a typology (typos) of our own story. What Adam did is what we all do when buy into the lies. This, Paul tells us, it the path to perdition. Through one man’s trespass – through one man’s ascent of heaven- sin comes into the world, jumps on our backs and wraps its chokehold around our necks. For it is through Adam that death enters into the human story. When Paul says Adam is a typology Paul is saying Adam’s story is our own story.

Story Four

It was Saint Augustine who, in reading Paul’s epistle to the Romans we heard earlier, first formally developed the doctrine of original sin. When Paul writes that in Adam we have all been given over to death, Augustine took him to mean that we were all literally “in” Adam when he sinned, and we are all therefore inescapably doomed to repeat his mistake. Scientists and philosophers have by and large reaffirmed this rather negative view of humanity, though they have been sophisticated enough to shake Augustine’s archaic views about God, sin and salvation. Now we are all merely products of force meeting force – the sons and daughters of those who happened to win out in a cosmic, winner-take-all game. This is the game wherein we deceive in order to achieve, walk all over whoever gets in our way as we climb the corporate ladder, and kill in order to eat. Only the fittest will survive. The rest will be voted off the island.

This is the game Adam was hustled into playing. This is the story Adam bought when the Serpent came a calling. “You have to do this if you expect to survive.”

Story Five

There is another story. It is the story we find in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He is the other typology. When presented with the vast array of wealth and political might this world has to offer he would not be duped. When offered the chance to be spectacular and powerful he would not bite. Though born with the beauty and wonder of divine-likeness he would not storm heaven’s gates. Though tempted to be a leader who would provide for his people’s needs, he refused to subvert nature– knowing that man cannot live on bread alone. When taken to the very summit of Mt. Sinai, as we read last week, he refused to stay. For he knew that downward is the path to salvation.

In Adam sin and death came into the world. In Adam we have one story of our humanity – the story of our fall. But in Christ we have another fundamentally human story – the story of resurrection. With the resurrection we have a new setting and a new stage. The old curtain has been rent asunder and a new backdrop has come down. The kingdom has come. The story of Jesus Christ of Nazareth is the story we were all created to live. It is the story we are destined to partake in. We were made to live lives like Jesus, to follow him as disciples to his cross, sharing with him in his sufferings and so, somehow, attain to the resurrection. We too were made to lives as sons of God.

Story Six

This is the first Sunday of Lent. This is the beginning of a season of reflection and repentance for us all. The Greek word for repentance is metanoia. It literally means to turn around. We have to ask ourselves today, what is it that we are being called to do in order to turn this thing around. In order to mend our estranged relationship with our creator and live into our baptism; to reclaim our call to live as sons and daughters of God.

There are people turning around all over the world right now. People like Nouwen with plans for bigger and better things instead choosing to live alongside the poor. People of pedigree foregoing the road to success and instead choosing to live as another fortunate Son lived – as a servant to the meek and cranky. People of great political ambition and ability choosing to serve rather than be served. It is happening in places like New Deli and L’Arche, where putting on socks is a daily chore. Even places in this very city like Walltown or East Durham or right across the field behind us – where people are choosing to give up their Saturday mornings in order to volunteer with kids who don’t know how to read.

What would it mean for us to turn around this morning? As the whole world is reaching up, with Adam, toward the heavens to pluck that peace of fruit off the very top limb and be like God, what would it mean to simply be who we were made to be – human? What would it mean to go with Jesus, to look from the heights of the tallest mountain of the world, upon all the kings and kingdoms and then say no – choosing to instead turn and walk down the mountain, and into the lives of our friends and neighbors who need a hand changing their socks. We will not meet all their needs – we have to realize that. We will be tempted to subvert nature in order to accomplish, but we will refuse. We will learn to follow in the way of our Lord who knew it was less important to be glorious than it was to be faithful.

What would it mean to be like Christ who we are told was in the very nature like God but did not consider equality with God something to be robbed but humbled himself and became obedient to death? What would it mean to turn away from our worship of the world and all its false grandeur and false promise and false securities and follow Jesus in whose name every knee will one day bow down to and every tongue confess as Lord.

As we repent of our sins this Lenten Season let us remember that a new age is now upon us. Humanity’s story has been re-authored in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The heavens have been rent apart. The kingdom of God is at hand. Let us submit to our own mission as sons and daughters of God. Let us conform ourselves to the call of discipleship. Let us follow down the descending way of Christ.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.