(I had the privilege of sharing this
message at St. Matthew's Lutheran Church in Paducah, KY on this last
Sunday of the year. It seemed appropriate to post it here as well.
Thank you to all the members at St. Matthew's for their gracious
kindness and patience. God's peace and blessing surround
you in the coming year.)
The world
is a crowded room filled with voices. Voices nearby.
Voices from across the world. Voices from the present.
Voices from the past. Quiet voices. Loud voices.
Authoritative voices. Rebellious voices. Happy voices.
Angry voices. Countless voices. Many of those voices are
asking questions. Some are giving answers. Most just want
to be heard. Yet amidst all those voices, Christianity asserts
that somehow, somewhere God is speaking.
But how
will we hear his voice above the chaos? In scripture, God's
voice flashes like lightning from Mount Sinai (Exodus 19:19).
It roars from clouds of flame (Deut 5:22) and thunders from the
mouths of prophets. It whispers softly with the wind to Elijah
(1 Kings 19:12-13) and echoes hesitantly from the lips of children
like Samuel (1 Samuel 3:15-18). It is found on the tongues of
both good and evil men (Balaam: Num 22, Caiaphas: John 11:49-52).
How can we hope to know the voice of such a strange and wild and
mysterious God?
Like you,
I have spent much of my life listening for the voice of God.
One thing I have discovered: there is no shortage of voices who are
willing to speak for Him. They are Legion. And they vary
widely in their perspectives on God. One of the greatest
struggles of my faith has been the attempt to reconcile so many
different voices; to distinguish, amidst all the words about
God, which ones are the “Word of God.”
These
voices come to us in concentric circles as we move outward in faith
and relationship. The first voices we hear, of course, are
those closest to us. The values, beliefs and ideals of family,
friends and fellow community members have an overwhelming influence
over us. For some people, this will be the core of their
faith. Such faith can be a beautiful thing. It can
bring diverse communities together and maintain unity in the midst of
conflict and division. It gives us an identity.
It places us in a larger narrative, a
story about
“us.”
God
is “our God.”
Faith is the faith “of our Fathers.”
Such
was the faith of the Israelite people. Unfortunately, this kind
of faith also created, for some of the Jewish leaders, a view of
themselves as God's chosen people over
and above the rest of the world.
When the Pharisees claimed special status as the descendents
of Abraham,
Jesus confronted their pride, saying, “God is able from
these stones to
raise up children to Abraham (Luk
3:8 NAS).” Later in the OT, as well as with the Jewish
leaders of the NT, we find the world divided culturally into two
groups: Jews and the Gentiles; “us”
and “them.” It
is a perspective that has proven all too common in our Christian
communities as well, with sometimes devastating consequences.
Some
people will be forced to move beyond this first circle faith.
For one reason or another they will be confronted with questions and
difficulties that their inherited Christianity cannot answer.
Some will take the first reasonable answer that is presented to them.
They are not looking for “the”
answer,
they simply need “an”
answer.
One that can accommodate their new questions. It is no
less faith for being practical. Indeed practical faith is often
the most productive. However, such a faith is likely to find
its “first reasonable answer” shouted on the loudest voices -
simply because they are louder or more numerous. But the
loudest voices are rarely the most accurate or trustworthy.
Often, loud voices are just... loud. Volume
is a convenient substitute for validity.
Others
will find themselves intimidated into submission by one voice or
another out of fear. Fear of social consequence. Fear of
failure. Fear of an angry God. Fear of the end of the
world. Fear
is a club. It
is a tool for manipulation. It does not require reason.
It doesn't even require a legitimate reason to be afraid. Fear
is easily manufactured. Bogeymen and falling skies can be
cobbled together from just about anything.
The voice of fear may be the most dangerous of all voices. It
has been used to justify the cruelest of actions in the name of God.
It has stripped away individuals' rights and freedoms... “for their
own good.” Wars, crusades and inquisitions are the legacy of
fear. Fear cannot create faith. It can only ever be the
basis of suspicion, doubt and paranoia.
No
doubt some will cite scripture at me, “the fear of God is the
beginning of Wisdom.”
But as the Apostle Paul observes 1 Corinthians 1:21, “In
the wisdom of God, the
world did not
know
God through
wisdom.
So
it pleased God through the foolishness
of
what we preach to save those who believe. (1Co 1:21 ESV).”
This foolishness is the gospel – the love of God expressed
in Christ. And as John writes in his first letter, “There is
no fear in love...the one who fears has not been made perfect in
love” (1 John 4:18).
It
is no coincidence that the writers of the NT are so quick to
understand Jesus and his gospel of selfless love as the “word
of God.”
Early in the scriptures, we find God speaking directly to those who
seek him (Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac and Joseph). As time
progresses, we find God still communicating his message through
direct revelation, but now by way of a singular group of people known
as the "prophets." Throughout the OT, the
“word of God” is understood as this directly revealed message of
God or the written record of it. However, by the beginning of
the book of Acts, the “word of God” has become virtually
synonymous with Jesus' message and actions. Jesus is
the
voice of God.
The question I have to ask is... Why? Of all the voices
speaking for God in first century Judaism, why did people listen to
Jesus? There were other “Messiahs.” He was not the
first to die for his cause (Acts 5:35-39). There were other
prophets, priests and kings. Why should anyone listen to a
homeless wandering rabbi who spent most of his time on the wrong side
of the tracks? Maybe it was the miracles. Perhaps.
But miracles have a habit of being explained away. Maybe it was
his charisma. Possibly, but crucifixion tends to rob a man of
his attractiveness. Maybe Jesus was simply at the center of
the perfect religious storm. Maybe. Or maybe not.
One
word comes up again and again in the scriptures when people listened
to Jesus: “amazed”
(Mk
1:22, Mk 10:24, Mk 12:17, Mk 15:5). His words weren't like
other people's words. They were upside down and backwards and
no one could quite wrap their head around them. Yet somehow
people knew they were true. Even the people who wanted him
silenced seemed to know he was speaking the truth. They just
wanted him to shut up about it.
The scriptures tell us that humanity was created in the image of
God. There are lots of opinions about what exactly that means,
but most theologians would agree that at least some part of God's
image remains with us. I believe that image within us still
resonates with the things of God, a kind of “deep that calls out to
deep” (Psalm 42:7). Maybe it's broken. It is clearly
fallible. But when people listened to Jesus, it lit up like a
firecracker. If God were to speak, they must have thought,
this is what it would sound like.
Jesus' every word and action pointed to a God of selfless love.
His message was not about “us” and “them.” It was
simply about “us.” A kingdom that welcomed anyone and
everyone who was willing to share that welcome with others.
His voice was rarely loud. But there was authority and power
in it, because he spoke truth. And though he had fearful words
for the arrogant and self-righteous religious crowd, the Father Jesus
spoke of was one who loved relentlessly and unconditionally... who
forgave without measure.
The
God we find in Jesus invites us into a Kingdom
of
love.
Not because he wants to be a king. Rather because our
lives are not just for ourselves, but for each other. This
God calls us not so much to what some call “sinlessness,” but to
a life of selflessness in love. Selflessness is infinitely more
difficult than “sinlessness.” We define “sin” externally. Sin
is what “bad” people do. It is what “they” do. Selflessness
applies exclusively to us... to me. I don't like selflessness.
I'm not good at it. That is how I know God is calling me
to it.
How then can we know the voice of God? It is the voice that
sounds nothing like our own. It thunders against our
selfishness and self-righteousness. It whispers softly that you
are now and will always be intimately, unconditionally loved by
God... and that love frees you to spend your own love on your
neighbor... and even your enemy. The voice of God is the voice
that sounds like Jesus. Listen and follow.
