Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Sermon: Sunday, September 4th


Psalm 119
Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 18:15-20


The day after tomorrow is the day, the day when students across the country will be returning to school. From pre-school to grad school, learners will be engaged in a variety of subject matter. But regardless of whether they are stepping into a kindergarten class or their first medical school class, these students will have one thing in common—they will have  before them the task of learning. Some will want to learn eagerly; others not so eagerly.  There are a few educators in this congregation--who teach at a variety of levels--and I am sure they could attest to the motivated and not so motivated students they have encountered. 
            Today we have read responsively together a portion of Psalm 119, the longest Psalm in the Psalter—the book of Psalms.  But even in the eight lines we heard, we have encountered what all teachers desire in the depth of their hearts—an eager and motivated learner. In fact, the first words we hear in line 33, are music to the ears of any instructor, “ Teach me”.
            “Teach me.” Those two words are powerful and affirmative. For those two words affirm the students desire to be taught and his or her confidence in the teacher’s ability to do the teaching. Those words are music to the ears of any teacher, because the hardest student to teach is the one who does not want to be taught.
But the Psalmist is an eager student, and an ambitious one. For  he seeks instruction not from any teacher, but the ultimate teacher—the divine teacher. And the psalmist isn’t asking meekly for God to teach him something. He is emphatically stating that he wants to be taught. In fact he is demanding instruction from God.
“ Teach Me O Lord!” is his cry to heaven.
Yes he is demanding to be taught something, but not just anything.
            Yes, we have many important things to learn in school, but the Psalmist is not asking God for a trigonometry lesson. He is asking God for something far more important. He is asking for something fundamental, something foundational.
             What is he asking for? What he is asking for is the knowledge every  single human being hungers for in the depth of their being. The Psalmist wants to know the way—not just any way—but the way. He wants to know how to live his life. He wants to know by what standard he should judge his actions. He wants to know what to move toward ; what to move away from.
And he doesn’t just want to know about the way, but desires an intimate connection to the way. And this isn’t an intellectual pursuit, just a matter of the head. It goes way deeper than that—to the very depth of the Psalmist’s heart. From there he cries to the Lord: Teach me!
            The Psalmist knows what is at stake. He knows that there is a right way and a wrong way. .The Psalmist knows that within him, there is a temptation to be led down the garden path, down the wrong avenue-and that he would be all too delighted to go sauntering down it.
          He knows where his eyes naturally want to look, and the direction to which his heart is naturally inclined. He knows this and boldly asks God to steer him in the right direction—to guide him in the way. Not just show him the way, but  actually move him along the way. The Psalmist knows where the truth lies—and he prays to be formed by and in that truth. In seeking God’s instruction, he isn’t asking in some detached way:” Listen, Lord, I need some guidance, would you mind lending me your instruction manual for a while.” No. the Psalmist pleads to God—pleads for God’s compassion and guidance. And he is asking with boldness. In fact, he isn’t even asking. He is telling God: “Fulfill your promise to your servant.”
            And that promise is the promise God first made to Abraham the desert nomad so many years before—and that is the promise of God’s blessing, God’s everlasting blessing.  The psalmist lived many years before the birth of Christ. He would not have known the specifics of what was going to happen. But he knew that God had made a promise to his ancestors, and that this promise was for him—that God was going to do something great, and that this great thing was on the horizon. So the Pslamist shouts from the depth of his soul up into heaven: “Remember your promise to your servant!”
And that promise would be fulfilled. God would answer the Psalmists plea for the fulfillment of that promise and the demand for Godly teaching.. The divine instructor would arrive. God himself would arrive on the scene, and in the most unexpected way possible—in the person of a first century Galilean Jew. He would arrive to be our teacher, would show us the way—show us what it really means to be human. But  while he taught and instructed his verbal teaching was always intimately connected to  merciful and compassionate action—to healing, to feeding, to restoring the dead to life.  And then there was the ultimate act of mercy and compassion. Jesus would endure the cross for us and for the world, to complete the greatest rescue mission of all time. and through that great act of compassion and mercy, reveal to us the heart of God, show us what living a life as a human being  in the image of God means. God would show us the way through his mercy, show us the way the Psalmist longed for in the depth of his soul.
The Psalmist may not have named Christ, but that is the teacher he longed to be taught and guided by. He may not have known that God was going to come into the world the way he did, but he knew about his promised coming—and he grabbed hold of that promise with all of his might.
Unlike this Psalmist—an Israelite who lived many years before Jesus Christ came into the world as a human  being—we have the benefit of knowing that the Messiah has come, that the promise has been fulfilled, that God’s Grace, mercy and compassion have been showered upon all people. And where that mercy and compassion is embraced, a whole new life is made possible, a new way of being is effected. It does not come about on the basis of anything we have done, or thought, or learned,  or the choices we have made, but by everything God has done through Jesus.
            But like the Psalmist we live in a difficult world where hard choices present themselves; where difficult decisions have to be made, where good instruction is longed for, and wisdom, is desired.
            The school year is beginning and there is much learning to be done, and lessons will be learnt—by students and teachers alike. But human hearts continue to cry out for that fundamental teacher. But unlike human teachers who instruct students how to arrive at correct answers, Christ—who is God for us—is the answer.  And we benefit from his teaching not by, first trying to imitate him, but by acknowledging what he has done for us, by acknowledging our need for Him, by embracing him, and putting Him on like a coat of armour. Putting on Christ means Living in the reality of what he has done for us. He has given us everything.
            And when Christ is put on, we don’t just learn from our master, we actually see the world through his eyes.  And when we look at the world through his eyes we look at the world through the lens of love, through the lens which allows us to view our neighbours as ourselves.  When we put on Christ we are called to a life of new obedience, a new obedience which will often be counter-cultural, which will cut against the grain of business as usual.
          Yes, in this lifetime that vision will not be perfect. There is still that tug and pull from another direction—that same direction which the Psalmist so desperately wanted to avoid.  But we are and will not be alone as we move through our journey. The greatest teacher of all time will guide us in our way as he has promised to do, and we will continue to be formed in his image.
            For the compassion of God through Christ is not just some historical event, or theological idea. Christ is compassionately present with us. In fact, he is here with us today.
            He promised to be with us. He promised to be where two or three are gathered in his name. Christ promises to be there, even amidst conflict. In today’s gospel lesson Jesus instructs his disciples on how to handle disputes within the church. He describes steps to be taken in disagreement. Too often these have been interpreted as the steps one takes to get someone kicked out of a church--excommunicated. In fact, these steps are  loving measures intended to restore fellowship between people. When we read Jesus instructing his disciples to treat the outcast as a “Gentile and Tax Collector”, we might be taken back at the exclusionary tone. But remember. How did Jesus treat Gentiles and Tax Collectors?—with compassion, with love, the same kind of love which Paul encourages the Roman Christians to build their lives from. The same kind of love we are called to; the same love we are formed in; the same love which the Psalmist demanded  from God—and God delivered, delivered himself in the form of his Son, so that all people could have eternal life, and be delivered from Sin and death.              
But remember: Christ has done more than teach us. He has done it all for us. So let us rest in him, put him on, and step out into the world proclaiming his love and compassion. Let us learn from him, and grow in him. Let us pray for his guidance. Let those who have been baptized into Christ daily live in their baptism, washed in the waters of God’s forgiveness. Let us be nourished at God’s meal of holy communion, where spiritual nourishment is found. And let us forever trust in he  who gave himself for us—Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour. Amen.