Sunday September 29th, 2024 Worship

There are two books that I’ve only read part of, they are still on my list to fully read sometime, but that both have had a profound impact on the way that I think about the Biblical laws and what it means to be acceptable before God. They are The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs and A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans. Both books are designed in such a way that the authors comb through Scripture to create a list of all the Biblical laws and then try to live by them for a year. If you didn’t already expect, this is an incredibly difficult thing to do. They ran into problems like what do you do when it says you are required to stone someone and the annoyance of having to carry around a stool to sit on so that Rachel wouldn’t contaminate any chairs for the men in her life. These books show how it is seemingly impossible to live following all the Biblical laws, and I think highlight our human need for grace in the process of life. Quite simply, people keep picking and choosing which ones we need to follow, which is always fun when they want to argue about Biblical law only to remind them that they need to get rid of their polyester blends, and how could they have had bacon for breakfast! The point isn’t that we are supposed to spend centuries debating Biblical law, but that we are to focus on two things: loving God and loving our neighbors.
So, when we read this Gospel today, it feels like there isn’t any room to make mistakes. Jesus has a harsh directive about what is supposed to be done if we are stumbling or if we are causing others to stumble in their faith. It feels like it is calling us to this level of perfection, which I don’t think is possible, even with Christ helping us along the way. We are still humans, we will still make mistakes, and unfortunately, we will still intentionally and unintentionally cause harm to the creation around us. This is one of those stories that can be extremely damaging when people take them literally. It’s why throughout much of history punishments for crimes often included some sort of amputation, whether that was of the tongue if you were speaking falsely against others or hand if you were caught stealing. Then, not only would people have to live without their missing body parts, but their shame of it would be on full display. It’s in the Bible, so that must be the right consequence, was the logic of that one.
Yet, what if Jesus’ speech today is grounded in hyperbole? It can be used to show how our words and actions do indeed impact those around us, without anyone having to lose a limb. I think it’s so exaggerated here too because the people needed to see that there was a consequence. As most teachers will tell you, the consequence needs to correspond with the misdeed. Without a consequence, what would lead these people to actually strive to do the right thing all the time. After all, right is usually a lot more difficult than the easy option. But it leads to us asking questions then about what does it mean to be acceptable in God’s eyes? When we start down that rabbit hole, it’s a quick trip before we start feeling like we need to check this box and that box to receive God’s love. And it can quickly spiral into feelings of guilt and shame, of not being faithful enough, of not being worthy enough. We already have enough of that in our world today without adding more through religion.
I think Jesus is so dramatic in today’s Gospel reading because he is trying to get his disciples to understand the importance of how they conduct themselves as leaders. They may not see themselves as such at this point, but after Jesus’ death and resurrection, they will be the ones taking charge and sharing the Gospel. It will be up to them to not only share the Gospel but equip others to do so. It’s a little terrifying to release that work into the world, not knowing how the people are going to steward it, but at some point, you must trust that they were trained well and will listen to where God is guiding them. At least, I imagine this is how our Seminary professors feel every year when another batch of clergy is released into the world. The disciples are going to carry much responsibility, and as leaders, they will be called to lift up new disciples for the sake of the Gospel, not tear them down because they aren’t doing something exactly the same way. It means that we must trust where God is moving in the world, even when we don’t understand it. That we shouldn’t put barriers in the way of people coming to embrace a relationship with God. That is not our call in the world. Instead, we are to share the good news, love our neighbors and love God, and know that we are worthy of that calling and are already acceptable in God’s sight.
However, there is one thing I do like about this idea of acceptability which is that is creates a boundary for us. Like the commandments, it helps give us some buffers and some guides for how to live amongst God’s creation. And I like that acceptability doesn’t mean perfect. When I was in grad school and struggling with my perfectionism when it came to writing papers and working on projects, especially first drafts of those papers, I was often reminded by my therapist that done is better than perfect. That it’s okay that the first draft isn’t the most amazing thing ever because it means there is still room for improvement when we edit it.
So, if we think about being acceptable in the eyes of God, it means that we can still acknowledge our goodness as God’s creation and, at the same time, see the ways that we can continue to improve. To be a better neighbor, to understand our privilege in the world and how it impacts our relationships with those around us, to look at what we value and why. Or as one of my home pastors used to say, “God loves you just the way you are, but loves your neighbor enough not to leave you that way.” I know it’s the Lutheran love of paradox in me, but I do value the way that we get to be both acceptable and still have room for improvement. It means that we aren’t static beings, but we were created to grow and change. To not see ourselves as all-knowing, but to pay attention to and learn from the creation that surrounds us. It goes back to the lessons of last week, of seeing all creation as worthy and loved in God’s eyes instead of setting ourselves into a position of greatness.
It’s like the part of the Gospel reading about salt and how too much salt isn’t always helpful. When we cook, we don’t just dump a handful of salt in whatever we are cooking and call it good. Or we don’t omit the salt because we are afraid of it being too salty. We season and taste as we go in order to ensure the right level of seasoning, when the food is perfectly accentuated without being so salty that it is inedible. We get to keep checking in with ourselves to see how we are showing up in the world and where we might want to make some alterations to that. It empowers us to both love who we were created to be and continue growing into who we are called to be.
When Rachel Held Evans and A.J. Jacobs embarked on their journey of following the Biblical laws, I don’t know exactly what they were expecting to happen. But, I can say that many people have been deeply impacted by their work because it helps break down this understanding that there is any way to be perfect in our faith. They create space for us to be human, to make mistakes, to ask questions about why we have always done things certain ways and do we need to keep doing them that way. As a woman, reading Rachel’s book was incredibly helpful for seeing all the ways that my life would be vastly different if this was still the way we lived today. Which is why I always find it so interesting when people say they want to go back to what life was like in the Bible, because I don’t know if they truly understand what that would mean. Yet, it’s also a reminder that we do not have to be perfect to be acceptable to God. And that in our acceptance and God’s love there is always room to keep growing, as God is continually reforming us and the world.