Pastor Aaron

"Godspell, Grace, and Grumpy Christians" – Matthew 5:13-20

Matthew 5:13-20

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.


In 2013 I decided to return to the world of musical theater. Our local community theater in Paducah, Kentucky had announced their next production would be the revival of the 1970's iconic Steven Schwartz musical, Godspell. I auditioned and was selected to play the role of Jesus.

Godspell is a musical constructed around select stories from the gospel of Matthew (namely, several of Jesus’ parables) that culminates with Jesus’ crucifixion. The difficulty is that there’s no overarching narrative behind Godspell. It’s not a cohesive story, per se. Jesus simply shows up with some fun-loving friends, they each take turns singing and acting out these beautiful stories, and then Jesus is betrayed and killed. I suppose that is the beauty behind the production – it uniquely highlights the senselessness of the crucifixion. There’s no buildup or foreshadowing. Instead, stories of joy, forgiveness, morality, and faithfulness are met with unspeakable, inexplicable violence. 

The first act is particularly energetic and joyful. The song that concludes the first act is a high-energy song called, “You Are The Light of the World.” It’s a song that the cast sings together – a visual and auditory demonstration of the unity of Jesus and his disciples. The text is taken from Matthew’s account of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.

For this song, our director instructed us to line up at the edge of the stage, so that we could be right next to the audience. Our director knew that the audience would be singing and clapping along to this song, so she decided to have the house lights turned on for this number so that we could see the audience and feed off their energy. 

Here's the song: 

!

I loved singing this song. It was loud and exciting, and we didn’t have to worry about any choreography, which I appreciated. We simply sang into a sea of smiling faces, many of whom were standing, singing, and clapping right with us…except for that one couple. 

I’m sure this happened every night of our show, but I only noticed it on the evening of our third performance. As the lights came up on the audience and we started singing, my eyes were immediately drawn to the man and woman who looked completely disengaged. All throughout the number I tried looking elsewhere and focusing on the people who were obviously enjoying themselves; but my attention kept coming back to this couple with the crossed arms and furrowed brows.

My response was to sing louder, move more energetically, and smile bigger. I wanted them to join in, feel moved, and share in our joy. But as we finished the number and walked off stage to applause, I looked back at the couple and saw they were still sitting, motionless, not joining in the applause. 

As a performer, their response bothered me. I immediately wondered what I had done wrong. What about the show were they not enjoying? What could I have done better? I dwelled on this issue throughout the intermission.

But I wasn’t only concerned on a performance level; I was also concerned on a pastoral level; because every time I performed in Godspell I was singing not only as an actor, but also as a Christian and a pastor. I was putting my heart and soul into proclaiming Jesus’ promise to each and every person in the audience that he or she was the light of the world. How could that good news alone not make this couple smile? 

That performance took place on a Saturday night, which meant I was back in church the next morning, once again proclaiming God’s promises, not to an audience in a theater but to the people in the pews at our little Lutheran church. Of course, leading worship and preaching wasn’t a performance. I wasn’t looking for my congregation to sing along with my sermon or respond with applause; but I do remember noticing several people who, throughout worship, kept their arms crossed, brows furrowed, and looked completely disengaged…just like the couple from the night before. 

The lyrics of the song from Godspell ran through my mind as I looked out on the congregation.

“You are the light of the world.
But if that light’s under a bushel, you’ve lost something kinda crucial.
You gotta stay bright to be the light of the world.
So let your light so shine before men,
so that they might know some kindness again.
We all need help to feel fine.”

Those combined experiences raised a question that I still think about today. What is it about today’s church that keeps us from smiling when we hear the radical good news that the God who created us means to make us instruments of peace? Why isn’t our gut reaction to sing along to God’s word and let the stories of scripture move our feet up and out of the pews and in the direction of the poor, outcast, and marginalized who desperately need the good news?

There are countless reasons why people within the church would react to Jesus’ life-giving promises with apprehension, distrust, or indifference. For one, most of us don’t think highly enough of ourselves to believe that God loves us. If we cannot grasp this truth, discipleship is impossible. 

Also, it is a fact that the life Jesus invites us to live is counter-intuitive and upside-down (a bizarro world, as Pastor Mark remarked last week): give up your life to save it, lead by serving, turn the other cheek when abused, beat swords into farming tools, find blessing by being a blessing, give to all who ask, forgive debts, speak truth to power, take up your cross, etc. 

There are many sensible reasons to reject the truth of Jesus, but watering down Jesus’ promises and instructions to better accommodate our limited knowledge, experiences, and prejudices is not an option. The light of the world isn’t on a dimmer switch; the light of God’s word shines so brightly that it exposes every corner and crevice where sin would hide. The salt of the earth is pure – it exists to preserve and enhance. The city on the hill is a beacon for all people to join in singing the praises of the God of all creation. 

Some people will refuse to join in. It is not possible to make others accept the truth and consequences of Jesus. But we keep singing. We keep striving to make the promises of scripture manifest in our world.

I pray that you would find Jesus’ words so convicting and energizing that you start tapping your toes and singing along. I pray that your fear would give way to the peace that passes all understanding. 

I pray that the global Christian church would be emboldened to keep singing the song of freedom for all people…that it would drown out the voices of fear and hate.

And I pray that we will keep shining the light into he dark places and preserve the truth of the gospel no matter what obstacles are thrown in its way. 

Amen.

"Only Losers Need A Savior" – Matthew 4:12-23

Matthew 4:12-23
Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

"Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles—the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned."

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people. 


In Matthew’s face-paced version of events, immediately following Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan River, Jesus’ next adventure took place in the wilderness where he fasted for 40 days and was tempted by the devil. Three times, Jesus rejected the offer of power and privilege which the devil presented. Three times, Jesus declared his faith in God alone. Matthew states that the devil left him and angels attached themselves to Jesus.

Following his dramatic baptism and victory over the devil, Jesus sets about to begin his public ministry. And he picks a strange place to start. He starts his ministry in the land of “Zebulun and Naphtali.” It’s a strange place to start because the land of Zebulun and Naphtali is conquered land. It’s people are oppressed. Colloquially, we could call it “Loser-ville.” I think it is safe to say everyone in Jesus’ day knew it as “Loser-ville.” 

You see, Loser-ville was once a land of great promise. More accurately, it was once a land of God’s promise. It was land that God had sworn to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, had shown to Moses. It was Canaanite land that God pledged to the Hebrew tribes of Jospeh’s sons, Zebulun and Naphtali. 

However, 700 years before Jesus first steps foot on the land, the land fell under foreign occupation by the Assyrians. The current residents of the area of Zebulun and Naphtali were occupied and oppressed. The people resided in a land that was promised them; however, it was a land they could not possess. After 700 years of living under occupation, most residents had long since given up on many of God’s promises.

And it is here, in Loser-ville, where Jesus chooses to make his inaugural address, stating, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

The Biblical notion of repentance means “to turn around 180 degrees.” When Jesus speaks to the residents of Loser-ville who have lived through hundreds of generations of oppression, he is calling on them to make a complete change of behavior, attitude, and faith – to turn in the completely opposite direction, to turn their downcast gaze towards the God whose promises are still valid and soon to be realized. 

The call for repentance was a call to expectation. Hey losers, expect to be healed. Expect to be free. Expect redemption. Hey losers, expect equality. Expect justice. Expect good news. Expect God’s love. Expect salvation.

Jesus beginning his ministry in Loser-ville does more than symbolize the truth of God’s promises; his ministry actually makes God’s promises come true. 

All this makes me wonder where our “Loser-villes” are today. Where are the places in our world where people have lived under oppression for so long that they no longer know where to look to receive God’s promises? Where are the places where people no longer even expect justice, equality, love, and good news? Where are the places where people have been told over generations that they don’t deserve any of that?

Certainly we are called to go and announce God’s promises to places of such as Fondwa, Haiti, where opportunities for hope, opportunity, and safety are limited. Likewise, I recall the racially-divided slums of South Africa as places of political oppression in desperate need of good news. 

But we don’t have to hop on an airplane to find places where people have lived under oppression for so long that they no longer know where to look to receive God’s promises. What about the part of Indianapolis that the Indianapolis Police refer to as “The Swamp” (that name's actually worse than “Loserville”). I see it in our local school where it is clear some kids have no one to read to them at home – kindergarten students who are already set up for a life of educational failure and limited opportunities. I see it in the people who turn to opioids abuse or meth to numb their boredom or emotional distress. I see it in the people who treat other ethnic, socioeconomic, or racial groups with outright hatred or casual indifference. And I see it in the lives of those who have physical or mental disabilities–people who need champions for their rights and their dignity.

There is no place on Earth where God’s promise is invalid. There is no inch of soil anywhere on this planet where God’s promises cannot take root and grow into something beautiful and transformative. The seeds have already been planted. Our attitude and actions make a huge difference in whether these seeds will grow.

Jesus’ ministry in inaugurated in Loser-ville and is full of acts of healing “that repair imperial damage and enact God’s life-giving empire in restoring people’s lives. They anticipate the completion of God’s working that creates a world, envisioned by Isaiah, in which all people [regardless of race or nationality] enjoy abundant good food and physical wholeness, where ‘the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.’”

There is hope for the losers in the world. And I thank God for that fact that I am a loser. If I had everything together. If I was confident; if I was self-sufficient; if I had no need of forgiveness; if I was blind to the painful injustices of our world…then I would have no need for a Savior. 

But I am a loser. And it is in this very identity of imperfection where Jesus comes to me, calls me to repentance, offers a healing touch, and sends me out to do the same for others. 

I don’t tell you this enough, but you are a loser, too. And that is wonderful news because a loser is exactly the type of person Jesus is drawn to. 

So embrace your fear, your imperfection, your feelings of inadequacy, your need of healing. Embrace these things and repent – turn around and gaze into the healing presence of a God who is in control, whose promises are eternal, and who will always have a word of hope for us losers.

Amen.