For by grace you have been saved
through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God- not the
result of works, so that no one may boast.
As a consummate do-er, I must admit
that it’s taken me quite a while to warm up to this idea. Faith, not works. What
do you mean, it’s not all my good deeds that are counted in the great scorecard
of life? I remember in college, getting
a social work degree, believing that this was backwards. Of course it’s works.
God loves people who care for others. You know, it’s that whole ‘love thy neighbor
as thyself’ stuff.
It’s as if I thought there was a
causal relationship – I love others and do good deeds, therefore God loves me. But
I had it backwards. God loves me, therefore I love others and do good deeds. It’s
when I feel especially loved and cherished, either by God or a loved one, that
my heart swells and I want to love and serve. It is causal after all.
The problem with my old way of
thinking is two fold. First, it’s transactional. A tit for a tat. God cannot
care about keeping score about my works. The second problem is that if God’s
saving mercy was dependent on my works, what about those days or seasons when I’m
not my idealized selfless self? If it
holds that God’s mercy comes because of my good deeds, is it withheld when my good
deeds cease? That’s a frightening
thought.
The more important thing about the
concept of saved by faith not works is when I’m not feeling the love, not
sharing the love. When I’m less than my idealized, giving self, I’m still loved
by God, regardless of what I do.
This morning, I’m thinking about how
God’s mercy is not transactional, but is absurdly generous and unconditional. I’m
also thinking about the lovely blessing offered by Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
which offers another way of thinking about this. I’m thankful for a moving and alive
faith, that lets me grow and change my understanding of God.
God created you because God loved you. You do not therefore need
to do anything to earn or deserve God’s love. You do not need to impress God so
that God will love you. God already loves you and God will love you for ever and
ever. There is nothing you can do that will make God love you less. There is
nothing you can do to make God love you more. God’s love for you is infinite,
perfect and eternal. ~Archbishop Desmond Tutu
While everyone was amazed at all that he was doing, he said
to his disciples, "Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is
going to be betrayed into human hands”
In this passage, Jesus has just healed a child with a demonic
spirit, frothing at the mouth. In response everyone was astounded by the
greatness of God. And in the midst of that amazement, Jesus tells the disciples
that he’ll be betrayed by the very people who are singing God’s praises. Jesus
knows that their praise and adoration is fleeting and situational. As usual,
the disciples didn’t understand what he was trying to say, how he was trying to
warn them about how this story was going to play out, at least initially.
Reading this passage is almost painful when you imagine Jesus
trying to teach his disciples. Their response, again and again is ridiculously
stupid, and unfortunately, so familiar in my world.
After his initial warning, the disciples respond by having a little argument
amongst themselves about who’s the greatest. Really? Jesus just said he was going to be betrayed,
and instead of trying to learn more, they jockey amongst themselves?
In response to their jockeying, Jesus takes a small child and
says that the least among them is the greatest. The disciple’s response is that
they tattle that they saw someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name, but the
healer wasn’t an inner circle disciple, so they tried to stop him. Really? Jesus
has tried to redirect the disciples about jockeying and their response is to be
exclusionist?
As we read this story and because we know the story, it’s
easy to fault the disciples. Their responses seem ludicrous. Don’t they know Jesus
would not want them to argue about who’s the best? Don’t they know that Jesus would
not want them to consider Jesus a trademarked, proprietary brand?
We can see these faults in the disciples. But if I think
about it, I can see those faults in me and in most of us. I think we all try to
assert that we’re best, or at least better than some. I don’t care who your ‘other’
is, but we all have one – that person who is not as good, not as smart, not as
genuine in their faith, not as true in their altruism. We all have someone who’s
a little lower in the hierarchy, at least in our head. That’s what Jesus is
warning against. Stop thinking there’s a pecking order or that anyone is better.
And when Jesus says that the least will be the greatest, the
disciples respond that some have healed in Jesus’ name without being close
disciples. I can imagine the disciples thinking, ‘ok, maybe we shouldn’t fight
amongst who of us 12 disciples is the greatest, but certainly you’ll agree,
Jesus, that we 12 are better than those who aren’t us, right?’
We do that too. When we hear that there is no pecking order,
that we shouldn’t argue about which of us is greatest, we make it a more collective
pecking order. Maybe I can get behind the idea that no one in my tribe, or
village, or denomination is better; God loves us all. But then the trap is that
we can think that our tribe, or village, or denomination is better. Those other
tribes, villages, denominations, faiths cannot possibly be as genuine.
All of this has to do with how we define ourselves, and how we
see ourselves as different than others. It’s in those implicit differences where
we risk creating the hierarchy. My husband and I have a few areas where we
differ in our parenting style. Our styles are different, and in those
challenging parenting moments, it’s easy to conflate different with better.
Today, I’m going to try to let different be just different. My clothing, my
skin color, my parenting, my housing status, my faith. All of these things will
be different than people I see. None of these things means better. I will try
to see all the ways where I, like the disciples, try to use the difference to
make me better. Personally, I’m not more loved by God. And collectively, my
tribe does not have more rights to God’s love than anyone else.
