The Reverend Richard R. Topping, Ph.D
Richmond
August 28, 2011
Acting Dean of Studies,
Vancouver
School of Theology
Professor of Studies in the Reformed Tradition
Loving God, give us minds to know you,
hearts to love you and lives to do your
will;
In the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Stand
Up Straight!
It
happened in church. After the
service a visitor to my Montreal
church greeted me at the door.
She said she felt that God spoke to her in the service.
“It was like it was my life you were talking about.” She said the
words wide-eyed – like she was surprised that such a thing should happened
in church. She said, “I would
like to be baptized.”
I answered in a reasonable Presbyterian tone. “I would be
happy to meet with you in the coming week so that we can discuss baptism.”
I even got out a pen and paper to take down her phone number, set up
an interview.
She persisted: “can’t you do it now.” “Right now,” I
asked. “Yes, right now,” she
said.
What do you say?
Isn’t baptism the church’s business?
I am after all a Minister of Word and Sacrament.
And if the Word should engender the sacrament isn’t that a great
thing, a marvelous answer to prayer. Imagine someone hears the Word and
wants to be baptized. I should
have been overjoyed, elated, thanked God.
But I wasn’t, I was stumped.
“Well, I would like to discuss it with you first.
Talk to you about the meaning of baptism, the church’s teaching on
the sacrament. Get the approval
of Session. How’s Tuesday
morning?”
Like all good Presbyterians, I like to think about things
carefully before doing them.
Spontaneity is not my strong suit.
There is a set way that the church goes about its work, rules and
regulations about who gets baptized, under what conditions by whom and where
and when. Unsure about this
unexpected happening, I played it safe, regularized the request, retreated
to the routine.
“What’s wrong,” she asked, “don’t you have the stuff here
to do it?” “What stuff?” I
asked. “The stuff for baptism!”
I assumed she meant the baptismal font at the front and water.
“We do have the stuff, yes,” I said.
“But first we need to talk, make sure you understand baptism.
There are regulations that the church has respecting baptism.
I have to follow the book – and I don’t mean the Bible - that
contains church law on the matter of baptism.”
The ironic feature of her request is that it came on
Pentecost when the sermon was about baptism. The scripture lesson for the
day was from Acts, when Peter, the apostle, preaches a sermon about Jesus,
his death and resurrection.
They are engaged by it, pierced to the heart they ask “What should we do?”
and Peter answers, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of
Jesus Christ . . .” And the people were baptized,
right away!
I’m afraid I gave a rather safe answer to the request for
baptism. Honestly, I was
thinking more about the Session and the Presbytery (not so much the synod),
the tradition on the matter than I was about the text for the day that I had
just preached on.
What would happen if I poured water in the font after the
service, gathered some of the stragglers from the service around the font,
found an elder or two to be present, and baptized her?
I guess I didn’t want it to be said that at my church, or
that the Minister of the church, performs baptism outside the accepted
procedure of the church.
Leaders think about these things, we have to.
Leaders are guardians of a sacred trust – we receive what has been
handed on to us. There are
laws, rules, religious regulations that must be kept, have to be kept
or (so we fear) everything will fall into chaos.
Decently and in order is us!
Come on Tuesday to talk about baptism.
There are six days to perform the necessary interviews, but not on
Sunday.
You might understand why I have a lot of sympathy for the
leader of the synagogue. He’s
just trying to keep the tradition he inherited.
He has always been a good leader, kept his nose clean, played it
safe, run a tight ship. He
keeps a tidy roster of who is preaching when, celebrates all the special
holy days. He keeps a neat
agenda. He’s responsible and
upstanding. He serves on the
committees of the synagogue. He
knows the tradition, the law, and he keeps to them.
And then one Sabbath day, Jesus shows up at the meeting of
his congregation. Jesus, the
visiting rabbi, gives the sermon.
That’s what happens in the synagogue.
It’s supposed to happen in the synagogue.
The sacred texts are read and then someone teaches; gives the sermon,
usually from a sitting position.
Jesus keeps the tradition, operates within the rails of received
practice. The teacher teaches.
So far so good. The
synagogue leader is quite pleased with the guest preacher.
But there is a woman at or near the meeting, a tragic case
really, who catches Jesus’ eye.
She suffers from a crooked back.
She had spent years stooped over, staring at the ground, hobbling
about, unable to work, a charity case getting by the best she could.
Unlike
many healing stories this woman asks no special favour from Jesus.
She doesn’t know Jesus from any other rabbi.
Maybe like many of us she just made it her practice to attend
services. That’s the great thing about tradition it got her and Jesus
together.
Sitting
behind the lectern Jesus sees her, calls to her, heals her from her ailment.
“Woman, you are freed from your ailment.”
She meets Jesus and stands up straight, her stooped countenance
healed. She praises God – my
guess is that it was loud.
“Praise God – I’m healed. Glory
to God – I can stand up straight!”
“But the ruler of the synagogue was indignant (mad)
because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath.”
If you have ever lead an institution and some newcomer enters in and
starts improvising on received practice, you understand the ruler of the
synagogue’s feeling.
Everything is fine until Jesus turns the Sabbath service
into a healing service.
‘Healing’ is work, and no work is to be done on the Sabbath.
The only time that healing is permitted on the Sabbath is when there
is danger of death, and in the case before us the exception doesn’t apply.
What we have here is a breach of the law.
And it all takes place in the good synagogue leaders meeting house,
on his watch, under his nose.
Decency, good order, the law assaulted before his eyes.
Imagine you have a guest preacher and he starts baptizing people
without the Session’s approval!
You can bet this synagogue ruler crosses Jesus’ name off the pulpit supply
list.
And then he makes his speech to the people.
It is a clarification of the law.
In short, “there are six other days when healing ought to be done, do
it then. But not today.”
At least now it will be reported back to his superiors
that he defended the tradition.
He didn’t let this outrage go unchallenged.
Let it not be said that this synagogue, or the leader of it, permits
healings outside the accepted procedure.
There are laws, rules, religious regulations that must be kept,
have to be kept or (so we fear) everything will fall into chaos.
He spins the occasion into a teaching moment.
The way we have always done it is defended.
That’s when Jesus creates a teaching moment of his own.
Or better still, that’s when Jesus diagnoses and heals a second group
of stooped over people. There
are people in the story stooped over by the heavy demands of arbitrary human
invention. The law was supposed
to lead people to God, bring them into life-giving fellowship with God, but
regulation can become so technical, labyrinthine, and excessive that it
doubles everyone over with obligation they can’t bear.
Living tradition can bring us to God, but calcified tradition can
insulate us from God.
It reminds me of the saying, “religion is a lot like coke,
it promotes thirst without ever quenching it.”
What was supposed quench their thirst for God, leaves them parched
for life and indifferent to other people’s suffering.
It demonstrates all of the compassion of announcing traffic laws to
someone injured in an accident.
Jesus asks a question that makes the point. “Don’t you
lead your animals to water on the Sabbath?
If you care for an animal
then why not this woman?” I
can’t help but think that Jesus put the emphasis on “you.”
Jesus makes the point that we make exceptions for ourselves, but not
others. We tie ourselves in
knots with religious regulations - often laying huge religious burdens on
others that we don’t keep ourselves.
This is like complaining about Sunday shopping to the clerk from whom
you make a purchase on Sunday!
There is also a higher note struck in Jesus’ answer.
Jesus says, “it is necessary that this woman be loosed from her bond
on the Sabbath.” It is a strong
necessary that is indicated here.
It is the same word used by Luke to indicate the divine necessity of
the cross of Jesus. Jesus must
go to the cross for our salvation, our liberation.
The law of mercy and liberation takes precedence over every
obligation. The kingdom of God
comes in Jesus. The reign of
evil is broken by the liberating acts of Jesus.
Jesus guides the Sabbath to its proper end.
It is the best day for works of release and mercy done in Jesus’
name.
The story ends with Jesus’ adversaries put to shame - one
version says ‘humiliated’ - and all the people rejoicing that they can now
breathe again, free for the worship of God.
Some years ago, I was sitting in my office on a warm
summer’s day. I looked out the
window and into the driveway came a long white limo.
It was not my ride. The
next thing, the side doorbell rang.
No one else was at the church, and so I went to answer it.
I recognized him as soon as I answered the door.
Standing there with his super model wife, his press agent and a
couple of burly security guards, was the pop star Rod Stewart.
He had a concert at the Bell Centre that evening, and he had come to
the church prior to it, for some quiet moments of reflection.
He and his whole entourage came into our church, into this sanctuary,
signed the guest book.
That summer some construction was being done along the
hallway that leads to the sanctuary.
When we passed it, I said to Rod, “Mr. Steward please excuse the
mess, the church is under renovation.”
His comment was “isn’t the church always under renovation?”
Now, I don’t usually get my theology from rock stars.
But he is right in the sense the church is always interrogated by a
voice not its own as to whether its customs and traditions serve the Gospel
that forms and sustains us?
St. Cyprian said, “Tradition without truth is but error
grown old.” Take that seriously and renovation, change, ongoing gospel
interrogation is a life-giving necessity for the people of God.
This side of the eschaton,
there will always be a things-to-do list; the renovation is ongoing.
The Church is Reformed and always being Reformed by the Word of God.
Of course, the good-news is that the Risen Christ accosts
the church, interrupts and disturbs us for the sake of life.
He comes to rescue his people from the weight of cruel and heartless
and legalistic religion, whether such tyranny comes from the theological
left or the right, so that we can stand up straight again.
I know what you’re thinking: “So did you baptize her?”
Well, I asked one of my elders
standing with me at the door. I
was sure she would say “play it say, follow the rules.”
She said, “go for it.
Isn’t this the kind of thing we pray for around here?”
Come to me all you that are weary and are carrying heavy
burdens,
and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me;
for I am gentle and humble in heart;
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
Let us pray:
Gracious God,
give us eyes to see our lives, our church
through the lens of Holy Scripture
that we may hold on to all that serves
and lay aside all that hinders
faithful service to our Lord Jesus Christ
in whose name we pray.
Amen.
The Reverend Richard R. Topping, Ph.D
Acting Dean of Studies,
Vancouver
School of Theology
Professor of Studies in the Reformed Tradition
Richmond
August 28, 2011