Sermons — Cross of Grace

Pastor Cogan

Asking for a Friend - Do Churches change the meaning of Scripture to fit what they want it to say?

Asking for a Friend - Do churches change the meaning of Scripture to fit what they want it to say?
Pastor Cogan

John 1:1-4, 14-18

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ”)

From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.


We’re in week three of this series: Asking for a Friend. Real Questions. Honest Faith. We gathered your questions and promised to answer them faithfully. This week: “Do churches or denominations change the meaning of the Bible to fit what they want it to say?”

It’s a timely question. Just this week, I saw too many stories and news clips about a pastor in Idaho saying things like: women shouldn’t vote, “godly women are designed to make sandwiches,”

and that Southern slave owners weren’t sinning because their relationships with enslaved people were based on “mutual affection and confidence.” Doug Wilson, the pastor who said those awful things, believes they are gospel truth because he thinks he has Scripture to back it up.

Like Titus 2:5 which says: young women should be “good managers of the household, kind, and submissive to their husbands, so that the word of God may not be discredited.” Or Ephesians 6:5: “Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ.”

If we don’t agree with him, he’d probably say we’ve changed the meaning of the Bible to fit what we want it to say. Anyone who believes there’s only one correct meaning of a text would say the same. Disagree, and you’re wrong. But here’s the thing: there isn’t just one correct meaning.

For too long, we’ve treated the Bible like a locked box, hunting for the interpretive key to the writer’s original intent. But words are more complicated than that. They carry layers of meaning, history and emotion. Most communication holds more than one meaning.

So No, we don’t change the meaning of the Bible—because there isn’t just one. We interpret it. We ask: what does this mean for us here, now, in our lives? Sure, some twist Scripture for personal gain. Paula White, for instance, claimed John 11:44 meant people should give her $1,144 to receive a prayer cloth that could possibly bring them miracles.

Others accuse us of twisting Scripture to justify our welcome of LGBTQ+ siblings, as a way of attracting more people. Truthfully, if that were our aim, we wouldn’t offer such a bold, hospitable welcome.

We are the only church in this county to do it—and we do it because the Word of God calls us to, not as a marketing ploy.

If we are following the 8th commandment (of not bearing false witness) and interpreting our neighbors’ actions in the best light, we’d say most people interpret Scripture in search of the Truth with a capital T. The real question we want answered is: whose interpretation is right? Whose is wrong? And why?

Seminary students spend three years wrestling with this. Some pastors and theologians spend their whole lives. And you want me to answer it in 10 or 12 minutes? Sure.A small caveat, I am answering from a Lutheran perspective because it is what I know. That is not to say it’s the most right, though I do think it’s pretty useful. There are surely other ways to interpret Scripture that are insightful and faithful.

But as Pastor Mark said last week, you asked me, sorta, so this is what you get. And so much more could be said, so this is not exhaustive by any means, but it’s a start.

As Lutherans, we can’t talk about interpretation without first talking about what the Word of God is. And you might think, well it’s just the Bible, that's the Word of God. Well not exactly. First and foremost, the Word of God is Jesus. John says, “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” It’s not a book that became flesh—it’s God in Christ. Jesus is the Word. What this means is that we see and understand God most through and because of Jesus.

Second, the Word is proclaimed. After the Word became flesh, lived among us, died, and rose, the story could not be contained. People shared it, again and again—witnessing, preaching, proclaiming Christ. Through that proclamation, we encounter Jesus. We hope that’s what happens here on Sundays…

That you encounter Jesus through this preaching and that it confronts us, transforms us, and pushes out into the world holding onto the promises God makes to us.

And then Third, the Word is the written Word—the Bible—because and insofar as it points us to Jesus. The whole Bible, as one story, reveals Christ. Some parts though point more clearly: the gospels, Jesus’ teachings, his death and resurrection, and for Luther, the book of Romans. These show most vividly what Christ’s life and death mean for us.

Other passages, like Titus 2:5 urging women to be submissive, reflect cultural norms more than the gospel’s promise of oneness and equality, proclaimed most boldly in Galatians 3:28. How can we say this? Jesus lifted up the role of women. He taught unity, servitude, placing others before ourselves—but never that women must submit. These messages echo far more deeply than cultural instructions ever could.

But someone might ask, how can one Scripture matter more than another if all Scripture is inspired by God, as that passage from 2 Timothy says plainly: “All scripture is inspired by God”? I’m not disagreeing with that. But Scripture points us to Jesus. We don’t worship the Bible. We worship Christ. Sometimes I fear we get that confused.

The Bible is a tool, a means by which the Holy Spirit shows us God’s love revealed in Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. And when we see that, it changes us. It transforms us. It shapes how we live. What matters most in interpreting Scripture isn’t only what it means. Yes, understanding the original intent matters. But what matters most isn’t just what the Bible means, but what the Bible does.

The Word of God does something to you, to us. When we hear it, when we read it together, when we listen to it proclaimed, the Holy Spirit is at work through that Word. After all it is a living and active Word, not just ink on a page. it calls us, moves us, and shapes us, so much so that we live differently because of it.

Take for example that passage from Exodus: You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien. If you are an immigrant or refugee, that word is certainly good news because it shows how God longs for their care and well-being in every time and place. It must give comfort and hope to the desperate migrants in search of safety for themselves and their families. But it also confronts those who see no problem with the rhetoric and policies that harm them.

And it should move those of us—like me—who have done nothing, who have simply shaken our heads and said, “How terrible,” without stepping forward to help our immigrant siblings. The Word meets us here, calling us to act, to love, to bear witness to God’s justice.

You’ve heard it said that people can make the Bible say whatever they want it to say. And that’s true.

But I am more interested in what the Bible, what the Word of God makes one do. So if the meaning you find in the text doesn’t make you afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted,

if it doesn’t widen the bounds of your love,

if it doesn’t encourage unity, or extend forgiveness, or move you toward repentance,

and offer grace with no strings attached, then find a different, more Christ like meaning.

Because the way we interpret scripture is by reading all of it through the lens of Jesus Christ, through whom we all have received grace upon grace.

And that’s the gospel truth.

Amen.


Asking for a Friend - Thy Kingdom Come?

Asking for a Friend - Thy Kingdom Come?
Pastor Cogan

Matthew 6:7-13

“When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

“Pray, then, in this way:

Our Father in heaven,

    may your name be revered as holy.

    May your kingdom come.

    May your will be done

        on earth as it is in heaven.

    Give us today our daily bread.

    And forgive us our debts,

        as we also have forgiven our debtors.

    And do not bring us to the time of trial,

        but rescue us from the evil one.

“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you,

We begin a new series today called “Asking for a Friend: Real Questions. Honest Faith.” Usually we say Asking for a friend jokingly, when we want to know something for ourselves but might be too shy or embarrassed to ask. Yet, over the past several weeks we have gathered questions that you want answered. We’ve taken those questions, grouped a few, and over the next eight weeks we will answer each of them. In a literal sense, these people have asked their question, not just for themselves but for you too. Because I am certain with each question someone else sitting here or watching will say, I had the same question. You are the “friend” in this series. 

And what a gift it is to have thoughtful, honest questions raised about all sorts of faith things: from prayer to evolution, biblical interpretation to politics, heaven and hell, and more. We will do our best not to provide simple, sure answers, but to wrestle openly, honestly, faithfully with the questions raised. A favorite quip in our household comes from a college professor Katelyn and I both had who said, one’s faith is only as strong as their willingness to question it. Hopefully this series will do exactly that; strengthen our faith through the questions we engage.

So to our first question, “what exactly do we mean when we say, ‘thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’” I love this question for lots of reasons. It is concise and clear, as are all the best questions. It’s one of the rare occurrences when Jesus gives exact words to say. We often get things to do, fewer things to say, and even fewer to pray. So I’d say that it’s worth our study. 

And lastly, it is about something so familiar that rarely, if ever, do we stop to ask, what am I, what are we, actually saying? We pray this prayer aloud, together, every Sunday. You probably say it throughout the week. But when was the last time you wondered “ what am I praying for with this prayer?” 

But beware, “thy kingdom come, thy will be done” is a dangerous prayer. Dangerous for the world as we know it, and for us.

It’s dangerous for the world because it is, in part, a political prayer. I’m guessing you never thought you were bringing politics into your prayer life every time you said the Lord’s Prayer—but indeed we are. And we can blame Jesus for that. Because in those three little words—thy kingdom come—Jesus is saying an awful lot. 

The kingdom on earth in Jesus’ time was Rome. A few wealthy men ruled, including Herod. Those who served the empire or its military were well off. There was no middle class. Everyone else—local businesspeople, artisans, and especially fishermen and farmers—were peasants, including Jesus. 

Herod was the ruler of Galilee, where Jesus grew up and began his ministry. But Galilee was under Roman rule, which meant Herod answered to Rome, not to his people. Like all earthly empires, this one hurt people, kept power in the hands of a few, and disregarded the lives of many, especially the people Jesus spent most of his time with.

So when Jesus says thy kingdom come, he’s saying: “things are not as they should be. 

This empire of violence, oppression, and greed must be undone—stopped, even replaced. 

And in its place, give us your kingdom, Lord.” 

Which, if we pay attention to how Jesus describes it, is a rather radical thing to pray for. 

A kingdom where the last are first and the first last? 

A kingdom like a wedding party where the invited guests refuse to come, so people off the street—good and bad alike—are welcomed instead? 

A kingdom described as seeds and weeds and small, insignificant things? That’s what Jesus wants us to pray for? 

A kingdom that couldn’t be more at odds with the world as it is? 

Yes. Exactly.

Jesus praying that prayer—and telling others to pray it too—was a threat to Herod and to Rome. Which shouldn’t surprise us. After all, Jesus had been a threat to the kingdoms of the world since his birth.

What that means for us is that we too are asking for God’s kingdom to come, reforming all the violent, oppressive, greedy kingdoms of this world. It means we recognize that things are not as they should be in this world: hungry children dying in Gaza, a week ago today 5 kids were shot not 10 miles from here, the wealthy growing wealthier while others are crushed by scarcity. 

And because of all that and more, we long to be part of God’s kingdom—a kingdom of grace and mercy, of debts forgiven and cheeks turned, of self-sacrifice and love. When we pray thy kingdom come, we are praying not only for us to be in the kingdom, but for the kingdom to be in us. That we might be God’s kingdom at work in the world. Sounds pretty dangerous to me. But perhaps no more dangerous than the next part: thy will be done.

And for this I need to share a story about my son, Clive. He is a wonderful, joyous, and downright defiant little creature. I have never known someone so uncooperative in all my life! 

Last week we were trying to get breakfast together. I asked him, "Do you want some oatmeal?" and he said, "No! I want candy!"

"No buddy, we don’t eat candy for breakfast."

"But that’s what I want."

"Clive, you can’t eat candy for breakfast."

"I want blue candy for breakfast!"

I thought, I can’t even think of what candy that might be… 

So I said again, "Clive, we can’t have candy for breakfast, it’s not good for us."

To which he responded, "But it’s yummy and I want it!" and then proceeded to sprawl on the floor and cry. All I could do was laugh.

But it made me think: this is how God must see us. Wonderful, joyous, but downright defiant little creatures who do what they will, regardless of whether it’s what God wills for us.

When we say, “thy will be done”, we’re recognizing that the things we want are not always what they should be; like blue candy for breakfast, or whatever the newest, greatest product is. 

We live in a culture that says the perfect life is always one more purchase away—one more pill, one more upgrade, one more new thing. But the life we want is always just out of reach.

So we pray thy will be done.

We beg God to take away our heart’s desires and replace them with God’s desires.

That’s dangerous.

Because God’s will might not look like what we want.

It might hurt. It might be uncomfortable. It might change us entirely. That was the case for Jesus, after all.

When we say those four little words, we’re really saying: Have mercy on us, Lord.

Don’t let things happen just because we want them to.

Give us patience.

Give us grace.

Give us strength.

To bear whatever you ask of us—

crucifying our will,

And raising up your divine will in its place.

That’s a dangerous prayer indeed.

We’re not just confessing that the world is marked by sin and sorrow—we’re admitting that we are too. So we ask God to change us so that we might go and change the world, little by little, bit by bit, until this world and those on it feel like we are in heaven, which is the goal, isn’t it? 

And by this, I don’t mean heaven, as a place, but as a condition - because to be in heaven is nothing other than being with God. So when God’s way of doing things takes over the world and our hearts, we will be with God and God will be with us in the best, fullest way possible. In that way, earth will be as it is in heaven. 

And that sounds even better than blue candy for breakfast. 

Amen.