No Placebo

Text:  Mark 9:38-50

Theme:  "No Placebo"

18th Sunday after Pentecost

September 30, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

³⁸ “Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

³⁹ “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, ⁴⁰ for whoever is not against us is for us. ⁴¹ Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward.

⁴² “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into the sea. ⁴³ If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out. ^{[44] [b] 45} And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell. ^{[46] [c] 47} And if your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, ⁴⁸ where

“‘the worms that eat them do not die,
and the fire is not quenched.’^[d]

⁴⁹ Everyone will be salted with fire.

⁵⁰ “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves, and be at peace with each other."

Today's text brings us to the conclusion of a real whiz-bang chapter in the Gospel of Mark.  The scene, presumably, is still set in Capernaum and at the home of the brothers Peter and Andrew.  Jesus isn't out on the stump; he's relaxing in a living room with friends.

He says a number of things any one of which could add up to countless messages from just as many pulpits.  But what caught my eye this time around is the world salt.  He says, "Everyone will be salted with fire."  What in the world does that mean?  It doesn't make any sense.  You put salt on your steak, or on your freshly-sliced tomatoes -- except where I come from, in Nebraska, where most folks put sugar on their tomatoes.  What's the deal with salt, and, for that matter, with this business of being "salted with fire"?

I did a little word association game with salt, and the first thing that popped to mind was the two-word phrase:  "salt substitute."  Some say that too much salt is bad for you, but what is food without the zest, zip, and tang that a little seasoning -- like salt -- can provide?  Still, "doctor's orders" may mean that you need to try a substitute.  Morton Salt makes a salt substitute called precisely that:  "Salt Substitute."  Then there's another item called "Nu-Salt".  But the trouble with salt substitutes, apparently, is that many have too much potassium, and that's not good if you have kidney or heart problems.  Look it up on the web; it's all there.  There are any one of a number of studies. 

Another word that popped into mind when thinking of salt was "placebo."  A placebo, in its popular understanding, is a "substance having no (pharmacological) effect, but given merely to satisfy a patient who supposes it to be a medicine."  A "placebo", interestingly enough, is essentially what Jesus said:  it is "salt that has lost its saltiness"!

Oh, that got my gears grinding!  We've got a whole world of people where the salt has lost its saltiness.  We've got a whole world of people, myself included, who sing right along with Mick Jagger:  "I can't get no satisfaction!"  We try and try and try, but can't seem to get it. If we do get it, it lasts only a short while.  Then it's back to "I can't get no satisfaction."   Some elements of Christianity come along and say:  "Give your heart to Jesus; give Him your money too, and all your problems will go away.  You'll be healthy; you'll be wealthy; you'll be wise.  You'll have your best life now, and you'll have a perpetual smile on your face.  You'll be satisfied."

That works for awhile -- until another crash comes.  What then?  We can't get no satisfaction.  Worse, it feels like we're people who have been sold a bill of goods, who have been given a placebo;  we feel like fools.  We're ashamed.  Or, spiritually speaking, instead of salt we've been taking a salt substitute.  We get something different -- and something far less -- than the real thing, the genuine article, what Jesus Christ -- and not many of His modern preachers -- were talking about:  SALT!  "Have salt among yourselves," says Jesus Christ!

Earlier this morning, we had the great privilege of hearing from Tim Madigan.  In his book, I'm So Proud of You, he tells the story of the incredible friendship he developed with television's "Mister Rogers".  In his book and with his presence here, Tim paid us a great tribute.  He shared various situations in his life -- some of the very, very painful and interpersonal problems he faced.  He felt, to carry the analogy through, that he was running on a placebo, on a kind of spiritual salt substitute.  On the outside, he looked great and sounded fine.  But on the inside, he was crashing down.   He was afraid and hurt and ashamed.  But then along came a chance friendship with Mr. Rogers, and, along the line, Tim Madigan heard the words from Fred Rogers that helped to set him free:  "I'm so proud of you."  Despite your pains and your problems, you are of infinite value to me.  You are loved, and admired, and appreciated just because you are you.  If that sounds like unconditional love, well, you're right; it is!

Tim Madigan caught the salt of Jesus Christ through Fred Rogers -- not the salt substitute; not the placebo; not the good time, plastic banana, rock and roll Christianity but the real thing. 

If the people of Jesus' day played a word association game with the word salt, I'm sure that some would offer up the word "sacrifice."  Back in Jesus' time, salt was used in religious rituals called sacrifices or offerings.  It seems ridiculous to the modern, "enlightened" mind, but bear with me.   Salt was a visual reminder of the covenant between God and God's people.  Leviticus 2:13 reads:  "Season all your grain offerings with salt.  Do not leave the salt of the covenant of your God out of your grain offerings; add salt to all your offerings."

Along with the religious aspect, the contemporary of Jesus would use salt to season his/her food.  In addition, salt was used as a preservative.  In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said to His followers:  "You are the salt of the earth." In other words, you give the world its flavor; you help to preserve it!"

As Tim Madigan paid us the tribute of candor in the pleasant surroundings of our Sybil Hopper room, so Jesus Himself paid His followers the tribute of candor in the warm, intimate environment of that home on the north shore of Galilee.  Jesus doesn't "sugar-coat" anything.  He tells it like it is:  "Everyone will be salted with fire."  In other words, there aren't always going to be, as the song of yesteryear declared, "Hot times in the old town tonight."  Life in our fallen world is going to bring its share of hardship, pain, separation, hurt, illness, addictions, depressions,  tragedy, death.  It will seem as though we're being salted with fire -- and, in fact, we are.  Jesus said, "Take up your cross and follow me."  They'll come after me; they'll come after you, too.  But be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life!  Have salt among yourselves.  Be who you are.  Tell it like it is.  Become what I shall make of you.  And "Be at peace with one another," says Jesus.

Set the salt substitues and the placebos aside.  Let the words of Jesus -- filled with salt and peace -- fall down upon us like the warm and gentle autumn rains.  Amen.

 

Here Comes James!

Text:  James 2:1-10, 11-13, 14-17

Theme:  "Here Comes James!"

15th Sunday after Pentecost

September 9, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism. ² Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes also comes in. ³ If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” ⁴ have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?

⁵ Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? ⁶ But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who are exploiting you? Are they not the ones who are dragging you into court? ⁷ Are they not the ones who are blaspheming the noble name of him to whom you belong?

⁸ If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,”^[a] you are doing right. ⁹ But if you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers. ¹⁰ For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. ¹¹ For he who said, “You shall not commit adultery,”^[b] also said, “You shall not murder.”^[c] If you do not commit adultery but do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker.

¹² Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, ¹³ because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.

¹⁴ What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? ¹⁵ Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. ¹⁶ If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? ¹⁷ In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

This morning we welcome back the book of James to the lectionary.  Tucked in toward the back of the New Testament portion of the Bible, James has had something of a checkered history.  Martin Luther, the great reformer, called the book of James "the epistle of straw."  You can't do much with straw except, perhaps, to trample it down on mud so you don't get your shoes dirty.

The reformers -- Luther, in particular -- didn't like James because it left the impression that a person was saved from hell, fire, and damnation through a combination of faith and works.  In other words, you have to believe in Jesus and do the good works He commands.  It does seem to run against one of the great hallmarks of the reformed faith:  sola fidei (faith alone). The Reformation took its stand with the teaching of St. Paul:  "By grace are you saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves.  It is the gift of God.  It is not of works -- lest anyone should boast."  And it's there in the Old Testament  too:  "The just shall live by faith," says the prophet Habakkuk.  There's nothing in there about works.

But here comes James, and he bolixes the whole thing up. He throws the whole church into confusion.   He says:  "Faith, by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

Thus, we have a dilemma.  How shall we see our way through it?   If someone thinks that it's all about works and that the faith bit is basically irrelevant, we deliver them into the safe hands of St. Paul.   If someone thinks that it's all about faith and, as a result, one must not bother with good works of any kind, we deliver them into the hands of James.   Bingo! The dilemma is solved.  Stick with the Bible long enough, and you may be pleasantly surprised and get some answers.

Back to James!  Let's hear him out.  He starts out all nicey-nice:  "My brothers and sisters," he says.  "Brothers and sisters" is the language of family.  There's a certain level of intimacy there -- which is nice.  But then  -- boom! -- he gets right to the point:  "Believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism."  If you roll out the red carpet for the rich, what does that say?  Well, we do budget on a shoestring and we have a mortgage to pay off, so it would be nice if they would hurry up and join our church.  We could certainly use their pledge -- both for general operating expenses and the building fund. 

And what of the poor?  Well, there are quite a few around and about University Drive here.  Occasionally, we hear how some of them sleep on our grounds or throw a mattress up our our roof. There is that grove of trees between our facilities and  Good Samaritan, and we've heard rumors that sometimes they sleep out there too.  But we do what we can -- a little bit here and a little bit there -- and we send them to the good people at the Salvation Army (they can stay five nights a month there) or the soup kitchen downtown.  Interfaith Ministries also does some nice things for the poor.  We do our part for the United Way, and we throw our change into the red kettle at Christmas and a few shekels into our own Inasmuch Fund.

But, as we discovered several Sundays ago, what do we do when we spot an African-American man, in disheveled clothing and probably in want of soap and water, sprawled out and sound asleep on one of our church pews before worship?  Folks, it's not so much what we do at that point.  It's how we feel.  We feel awkward.  No, it's not comfortable.  But I ask you -- I ask myself! -- to stay with that awkwardness for a moment.

When I finished my formal seminary education in 1987, there was as new movement afoot in Christianity.  Basically, it started with the writings of Dr. Donald McGavran, a professor of missiology at Fuller Theological Seminary in California.  He was the "father" of what was called the modern "Church Growth" movement.  At the heart of the Church Growth movement was a principle, a principle that is called the "Homogeneous Unit" principle.  It basically says that people like to become Christian without crossing racial, economic, or cultural barriers.  What it taught, on the most practical level, was this:  for the church to grow, you must attract people that are like you.  In other words, target the kind of people that dress like you do, make the same kind of money you do, hold the same political views that you do, practice their Christianity like you do, have the same 3.5 kids that you do, and have the same ethnic background as you do.  That's where the action is. 

Donald McGavran might call it action.  But here comes James.  He calls it favoritism.  He calls it discrimination. 

You know, folks.  I came to work today wearing a brand new shirt from Men's Wearhouse and a pretty cool new tie.  Last night, lay my head down -- after a very long day -- on a very nice, tempur-pedic pillow from Brookstone.  But then I woke up this morning and remember that cryptic statement of Jesus:  "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head."  The glorious Lord Jesus Christ that James describes is a homeless person!  That African-American man -- all disheveled and in want of shower -- that made us feel awkward may have been an angel, an angel that we were unaware of.  See the New Testament book of Hebrews for more on that. 

Again, here comes James:  "If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right," he says.  The question, of course, is:  do we really keep the royal law?  And who exactly is our neighbor?

Jesus answered that very same question with a story.  A man goes down that nasty road to Jericho.  He is robbed and beaten and left half-dead. He's got only a fifty-fifty chance of physically surviving.  Along come a couple of religious people -- one is a priest and the other is a Levite.  They both rubberneck a little bit, and then they proceed on trying to forget the whole scene.  But then, along comes a Samaritan.  "A Samaritan?" you ask.  Yes, Samaritan. Samaritans, to the Jews of Jesus' day and age, were considered inferior half-breeds, a part of their family that they had disowned, the pond scum of society.  There was a saying afoot:  "The only good Samaritan is a dead Samaritan." 

But what does this Samaritan do?  He bandages up the wounds of this poor human being lying half dead on a road.  More than that, he arranges for his medical bills to be paid in full.  I don't know how much a day spent as a patient in an intensive care unit costs, but I do know that it's lot of money.  Who was the good neighbor here?  Was it the priest?  The Levite?  Or was it the inferior half-breed, disowned, pond scum, the-only-good-Samaritan-is-a-dead-Samaritan Samaritan?  It was the person you'd least expect to do it.  Dear friends at First Presbyterian Church, what if we become the church that's least likely to do it and do it anyway?  Think about it!

Years ago, when I worked in the Lutheran church, I was approached by a member who wanted me to go to a rally in Indianapolis.  I would be downtown with hundreds of others holding up signs and protesting against abortion.  This lady showed me her own "Abortion Kills" sign.  "I'm not going to go," I said.  She looked shocked.  "But I'll tell you when I am ready to go," I said.  "I'm ready to go when our church and denomination finds the willingness and the resources to foot the bill and to show the love to that nameless poor woman who chooses to bear her child against almost impossible odds.  When we're ready to make that kind of commitment, I'll gladly go downtown."  That pretty much ended the conversation right then and there.

Friends, so often our actions bears such little resemblance to what we claim to believe.  And here comes James today telling us that painful truth. 

But James is not here only to leave us wallowing in pain.  His task is too inspire.  His task is to point out the foolishness, the ridiculousness, of favoritism and discrimination and clique-ishness. 

In the mighty name of the crucified and risen Jesus, James calls us to back up our faith with action, to live out the content of our creed.  When that happens, it sets the stage so that something special might happen.  Someone, on some day, will see the faith put into practice here at First Presbyterian, and say, in the words of the old negro spiritual:  "Free at last!  Free at last!  Thank God almighty!  I'm free at last." 

 

Amen.