Sermon by Jane Larsen-Wigger

Crescent Hill Presbyterian Church

June 27, 2010

 

Galatians 3:21-29

Luke 8:26-39

Psalm 42

 

(Before reading Galatians)

 

In his letter to the churches in Galatia, we’ve been hearing Paul repeat the message that he proclaimed there when he founded those congregations: the message of God’s amazing grace made known through Jesus Christ. Repeatedly he has reminded those Christians that they are justified not by keeping the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ. In other words, their salvation is not about what they can do, but rather about God has done in Christ.

 

But....he’s a tad, uh "concerned," shall we say, that they just don’t get it. That they still think they’ve got something to do with their own salvation. That they’re all bound up by what they think they have to do. I guess that explains why he begins this particular section with these encouraging words: "YOU FOOLISH GALATIANS!"  (I’m pretty sure he wrote it all in capital letters!)  "You just don’t get it," Paul tells them.  Because if you did ‘get it’ - you wouldn’t be acting the way you are....

 

You see, the Galatians have become pre-occupied with the Law....the Law that was given in order to help them live together in community, the Law that was meant as a guide and help.  Instead it has become a force/burden that binds them up – binds them to their own egos, to their own effectiveness, to their own goodness (and judgment).

 

And the particular law that is at the center of the troubles - the one that says that a Gentile must be circumcised in order to become a Christian, is also dividing them from one another in the community. This law in particular "enforced the code of difference that kept...two groups apart; it provided a system of ethnic boundary markers that separated ‘clean’ from ‘unclean’ human types...the law separated the Jew from the non-Jew. Paul was convinced that in order for Jews and gentiles to come together at a common table, the matter of the law needed to be resolved once and for all. . .(Because) the Law enforced the code of difference that kept...two groups apart."  (Rodney Sadler Jr, "Living by the Word," Christian Century, June 12, 2007)

 

"Getting" grace becomes more than just a spiritual matter. It is what can make the difference in how we get along with others - or not.  Thus, Paul’s admonishment: "You foolish Galatians!"

 

And he goes on with what my friend and colleague, Dee Wade, calls the "Kentucky Derby of theology, the greatest two minutes in biblical reading. . . Paul mounts his horse and leads the Galatians into a whole new life for believers..."   (Sermon preached at Anchorage PC June 20, 2010) Hold on for the ride: (Galatians 3:(19 or 21 or 23) - 29

 

We humans have a tendency to become bound up by what we CANNOT do anyway – namely, justify ourselves. And then we are not free to do what we can: which is to simply be who we are: children of God, Abraham’s offspring, heirs of the promise.

 

Paul repeatedly reminds his readers of God’s promise to Abraham - a promise that was given hundreds of years before the Law; a promise initiated by God; a promise that we have inherited through Christ: and that is God’s promise to be our God and for us to be God’s beloved - not because of what/anything we do, because of what God does.

 

Remember, Paul is saying. Remember who you are. Remember you are heirs of the promise to Abraham and Sarah. Remember you are children of the living, loving God. Remember you are those baptized into Christ.

 

We get to believing that our identity - and everyone else’s for that matter - is based on what we do for a living or where we live or our race or gender or able-bodiedness or ethnicity or social status or political leanings or sexual orientation or the way we interpret scripture or vote. We identify ourselves - and others - in these ways. We make distinctions. And judgments.

 

Paul uses the image of clothing to illustrate his point in this section. An interesting image, isn’t it, given that clothing helps make such distinctions. How one dresses does make some sort of statement about who one is.

 

Clothing can identify a person’s cultural heritage, where in the world they are from. And, even in specific parts of the world, clothing identifies one even more:

 

In Guatemala for instance the indigenous people have very distinctive, beautiful, colorful clothing - especially the women. What particular group someone is from is identified by the colors or patterns in their blouses. And, even within a particular indigenous group - the Kek-chi for example - there are distinctions that identify a more particular segment of even that larger group. So, seeing a woman wearing a white huipil woven with a particular pattern and colors it’s possible - for those who know - to tell exactly where she is from.

 

In our own culture the distinction between genders is usually a fairly obvious distinction that gets made with clothing. Class differences are often evident, too, simply because of the fit of clothes or the style or quality. Sometimes clothing expresses a personality trait like the desire for neatness or a casual approach to life.

 

Clothes do tend to help make and encourage distinctions. And the subtlety that goes with this practice means that clothes DO matter. We make judgments about people based solely on how they are dressed and how that fits with our practice and experience and attitudes and pre-conceptions.

 

Clothes often also affect how we approach life: How one dresses affects how one acts. You tend to act in a more dignified way when you’re dressed up. But, if you’ve got on comfortable shoes and shorts you might be more willing, even eager and looking to play...

 

I heard a story this week - attributed to the French - one of those that you’re not sure if it’s true but I’m thinking it really could be: there were these two criminals, you see who together hatch the perfect plot for a burglary: one them will dress up like a police officer, while the other commits the robbery. The "townspeople will be lulled into a false sense of security because of this bogus cop that they think is real" and they will trust him to handle things.

 

While the criminal wearing the police uniform "is getting used to his role, walking his beat, twirling his night stick, the people treat him with great respect, and ask him for advice and directions and assistance, which he gives, and he begins to enjoy his new status in the town. He’s never felt so important, so valued. This assumed identity takes such hold of the criminal that his outward appearance transforms his inward being. So when the other (one) of the pair passes by with all the stolen goods on him, the man in police clothing arrests him and hauls" him off to jail. (as told by Dee Wade)

 

How we’re dressed says something about us. How we’re dressed also affects how we go at life.  That’s why it’s a great image that Paul gives us in this passage. He knows that clothes do matter and wants to remind us that in our case as Christians, the clothes we are given are not a divisive, separating thing but rather a unifying garment: because this garment reminds us that we are all, down deep, the same: In baptism, he writes, we have all been "clothed with Christ."

 

The early Christians not only talked this way - they enacted it. They approached baptism as something more than just an outward ceremony: it was, truly a union with Christ where the Christian convert was made one with Christ. It was the custom in at least some communities for candidates for baptism - adults who had been through weeks of preparation, learning what it means to follow Jesus - would be baptized on Easter morning at first light. The candidates were divided into male and female groups. Once they had...affirmed their faith in Christ as Lord they went behind a screen so that they couldn’t see each other or the congregation. There they removed their clothes - symbolic of putting off their old life, their old allegiances. Then they entered the baptismal pool and received the sacrament of baptism.

 

When they came up out of the pool, they were re-clothed – often in a pure white robe - symbolic of the new life they had entered, their new way of living in union with Christ.  It was also symbolic that they were all dressed the same – distinctions are wiped out. In the Church there is no difference between any of the members: all are children of God, all have been clothed with Christ, all are heirs of the promise.

 

The covenant that God first made with Abraham has been sealed in baptism.

Obviously, 20 some centuries later - we’re still living into the truth - and grace - of this covenant. Because, unfortunately, one of the most segregated hours of the week is still 11:00 on a Sunday morning when Christians divide themselves up as "black" Christians, "white" Christians, "Hispanic" Christians, "conservative or liberal" Christians. And the headlines that talk about churches are too often emblazoned with the things that divide us, that we’re fighting about: abortion, say and gay marriage. And hanging in the air at our upcoming Presbyterian General Assembly will be some big issues that threaten to divide one Christian from another. Namely, this particular year, those include the situation in the Middle East and the question of who can be ordained to service in our churches.

 

Besides sending a whole lot of our folks to General Assembly, several people here have been knitting stoles to send as well. These have been requested by More Light Presbyterians who, like Covenant Network which our church is associated with, advocate for the ordination of openly gay and lesbian persons. This year our Session also initiated an overture about this issue that is also being sent.

 

I am quite aware that the rainbow symbol has become a political statement. But it is first of all a theological one – and maybe can help us see and relate to one another in deeper ways: The covenant of grace - the rainbow of God’s promise - is draped over each and every person —whether they’ll take one of our stoles to wear or not. Whether they’ll vote like you want them to or not. Because, if we look carefully, prayerfully, we can catch the light of Christ’s resurrection reflecting off the baptismal waters and producing a subtle rainbow on the fresh white garments we wear. It’s a sign of the covenant that marks each of us - whether we agree with one another or not; we are each marked as Christ’s own.

Clothed as we are in Christ we can see ourselves and one another for what we are: sinners one and all. Forgiven one and all.

 

Look around - because right here is where we start practicing this; right here in sight of the baptismal font is where we remember how we are each and all "clothed with Christ," - we all wear the same baptismal garment: patterned by the God who loves us dearly; woven painstakingly by the One who came to show us that love. And reflecting a subtle rainbow in the light of Christ shining on the waters still dripping off of us.

 

Let us wear this garment with grace.