Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost -
Proper 19 – Year C
September 15, 2013
1 Timothy 1:12-17
I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost. But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost. But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
I think that all of us tend to be attracted
to people with larger than life personalities.
We tend to watch, or at the very least be fascinated with people whose
brightness seems to be brighter than other people. There are people who just seem to somehow
always come out smelling like a rose, no matter how bad the situation is. Things just seem to not matter quite the same. These are the same people who when they walk
into a room, all eyes are drawn to them.
Sure, sometimes it’s because of their physical attributes – they may
just be prettier or more handsome than others.
But, sometimes it’s something else:
The person who draws all attention to themselves effortlessly every time
they speak. The person who doesn’t even
say a word, yet their very presence seems like a magnet and other people come
to them.
Athletes and celebrities tend to be like
that. They walk into a room, and
everything stops. They open their
mouths, and the world listens with bated breath for their words (even if it’s
just to order a coffee.) One of the
things I’ve noticed is how often athletes especially speak and carry themselves
with a greatness that is above others. Without
question it can be annoying, and can all too often lead to
disappointments. In just the last few
years we watched as Lance Armstrong went from the greatest bicycle racer of all
time to someone who used drugs and blood doping to achieve his success (denying
he was doing it the entire time.) He may
be at the bottom of many people’s lists of those they admire, but there was a
time when he was lifted up as a hero, as someone who had taken on cancer and
beaten it. He was a hero, he was the
greatest.
Then there is the athlete who claimed the
title as greatest, Mohammad Ali, and in the
prime of his charismatic career, many agreed. The sports world is filled
with showmen and great athletes, but perhaps never were they better combined
than in the young man who began life as Cassius Clay and became a worldwide
phenomenon as Muhammad Ali. The man who bragged about his ability to "float
like a butterfly and sting like a bee" went from being a curious oddity in
the early 1960s to a national villain (because of his refusal to accept induction into the armed forces on religious grounds,
which cost him millions and his heavyweight title) and finally to an
international hero. And now, his body limited by Parkinson's disease, he reigns
as one of the most beloved men on the planet.[1] I will probably
remember my entire life how we was selected to light the flame during the
opening ceremonies of the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.
No, we are without question drawn to
larger-than-life individuals, and the church has its own in the Apostle Paul,
and people have been drawn to his writings and thoughts for millennia. His influence on the church is without question. What we understand as Christianity depends a
great deal on the writings of Paul and on his understanding of God and
Jesus. “The
fundamental doctrinal tenets of Christianity, namely that Christ is God
"born in the flesh," that his sacrificial death atones for the sins
of humankind, and that his resurrection from the dead guarantees eternal life
to all who believe, can be traced back to Paul -- not to Jesus. Indeed, the
spiritual union with Christ through baptism, as well as the "communion"
with his body and blood through the sacred meal of bread and wine, also trace
back to Paul. “[2] We as
Christians owe a huge amount of what we think and believe to a man who started
his career by persecuting a new sect of Judaism, even holding the coats of
those who stoned Stephen, the first of the martyrs.
Paul was a grandiose guy.
From his claims of his having every right to boast in the flesh because
of his being “circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews;”. How in regard to the law he was righteous in
his devoted adherence to its stipulations.[3]
In the passage we have this morning from his letter to Timothy Paul
makes his claim of being the foremost of sinners. We can definitely see that Paul was not a guy
who wanted to disappear in the crowd. I’m
sure when he came into a room, all eyes turned to him.
Paul may have been a bit over the top, but he did it for a
reason. He described himself in extreme
ways so that he could in turn so the extreme grace and love of God. If he had just been a regular guy, would his
conversion have been as faith-inspiring? If he had just been a regular Jew, instead of
a devout Pharisee, would his new-found faith be as powerful a testimony? If he had never acted in opposition to the
disciples, would his new role as an apostle have been as shocking? Yet, it is his very grandiose, over-the-top
descriptions of himself that drive home the point that God is greater than
anything else we may have done, anything else we might be able to hold up as
proof of how good, of how worthy of God’s love we might be. And it serves to further the gospel.
If Paul, who was so great in his opposition to the early
church, in his personal adherence to the pharisaic law so perfect, if he was
able to be claimed and changed by God, then how much more so can God use and
change us – we who are far from being the greatest or the foremost?
One of the aspects of being human that often gets in the way
of faith is our difficulty to truly forgive.
We may say the words, “I forgive you”, but following through is
difficult to truly do. It’s hard. We remember what has happened. We remember the things that were said about
us in passing. We remember the ways in
which we were treated, how we were teased and excluded by people we thought we
friends. We remember how we were forced
out of, or forgotten and ignored at a family event. We remember how our loved ones were treated
by someone. We remember the pain we felt
when our trust was betrayed. We remember
all too clearly the pain that was inflicted upon us by another. It can be difficult to forgive. To move on, to treat the one who wronged you
in a way that speaks to the forgiveness we may have uttered.
One of the basics of our Christian faith is forgiveness. We declare that in Christ we have been
forgiven. Yet, how often do we struggle
with that? How often do we wonder if we
have done enough to warrant that forgiveness?
How often do we like Martin Luther spend time worrying? “In the
monastery, Luther spent up to six hours a day confessing his sins to a priest.
But later, he would always remember sins he had forgotten to confess. Questions
nagged at him. If only confessed sins were forgiven, what would happen if he
forgot one? What about all the sins he might have committed in ignorance?
Luther began to see that his sinful actions were like smallpox pustules —
nasty, external manifestations of the internal, systemic disease of sin.
He fasted for days and refused blankets at
night, believing that he earned merit with God through self-imposed suffering.
One day he would proudly say, “I have done nothing wrong today.” But on reflection,
he wondered if he had indeed fasted enough, prayed enough, suffered enough and
served enough.”[4]
It wasn’t until Luther discovered the core of Paul’s letters that he
found his comfort, and he was no longer worried if he had done enough. He would never do enough, but it wasn’t about
him. In faith, and in faith alone, he
could look to Jesus’ actions on the cross.
Jesus had done enough, enough for him and enough for all people.
In Paul, the foremost, the greatest (according to him) of
sinners we see God’s graciousness and forgiveness lived out. In Paul’s life and words we find the promise
of God; that no matter our failings, no matter how often or how badly we may
have acted or behaved, still act and behave, nothing can separate us from God’s
love shown to us in Jesus the Christ. It
is that love, that grace that brings to life the faith that God has planted in
each of us. It is in faith that we look
to the promises of God. To whom be honor
and glory forever. Amen.
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