Listen, Learn, and Live (a sermon)

Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42

We have a glut of information. Much of it is worth knowing, but much of it isn’t. A lot of it is true, but a lot of it isn’t. A lot of it is helpful, but a lot of it isn’t.

Lots of people want to tell us how to think and what to believe. We all have to be discerning.

Sometimes we find someone who speaks such truth to us that we listen to or read every word they say. Frederick Buechner is such a person to me. Whenever I read his words, I find myself thinking either “That’s true” or “Oh I hope that’s true.” It’s great to have someone like that in your life.

Think about the opportunity Mary and Martha have. Jesus is in their house. They know that Jesus is a great teacher. They may suspect—or they may not—that he is more than that.

(I wonder—if you were in his presence, and if your heart were really open, did you just know there was something about him?)

Mary and Martha knew Jesus personally. They knew him in the flesh.

We don’t have that privilege.

We know more about Jesus than Mary and Martha knew when Jesus came to their house. The knew he was a great teacher. They knew there was something special about him.

But they didn’t know what Paul tells us about Jesus in Colossians. We know that Jesus “is the image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15). We know that “in [Jesus] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Col 1:19).

We know that Jesus reveals God to us. We know that in God’s grace, God sent God’s Son so we could look at Jesus and know what God is like. We know that in God’s grace, God sent God’s Son so we could listen to Jesus and know what God says.

Paul also said what he wanted for the Colossians, and we want those same things for ourselves and for each other. We want to be “holy and blameless and irreproachable before [Christ]” (Col 1:22). We want to become “mature in Christ” (Col 1:28). We want to become all that Christ died to enable us to become.

How do we do that? We do it by doing what Mary did—by listening to Jesus.

Mary was able to literally sit in front of Jesus and listen to him. We can’t do that.

But we can sit with our Gospels in front of us. We can sit (or stand or kneel) in prayer. We can listen to the Spirit of God that is with us to help us understand what Jesus wants us to know and to do. We can pay attention to our sisters and brothers in Christ who bear faithful witness to who Jesus is.

We can do those things, and we should. It is a shame and a waste not to take advantage of the opportunities we have to listen to and learn from Jesus.

But we don’t listen and learn for the sake of listening and learning. We listen to and learn from Jesus so we can live as Jesus wants us to live.

Jesus said that Mary had, by listening to him, chosen the one thing that was necessary, while Martha let herself be distracted by the busyness of making dinner for Jesus.

This doesn’t mean that we should all just sit around listening to and learning from Jesus and not give any attention to service. Indeed, right before this episode, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan, which is all about offering loving service to someone in need.

When someone needs help, we help. When someone needs a hand, we offer one. When someone is hurting, we comfort them.

Listening to and learning from Jesus will lead us to serve. We will also grow more and more into people who serve for service’s sake and who love for love’s sake. Loving service will come less out of an effort to be who we should be and more and more out of who are becoming as we listen to and learn from Jesus.

As we grow in our knowledge of Jesus, we will become more merciful, more gracious, and more service oriented. We will become more loving, and our ever-growing love will lead us to give ourselves away for others’ sake, for love’s sake, and for Christ’s sake.

When we are trying to decide what to think, what to say, or what to do, we should think about what Jesus would think, say, and do about it.

When a legislative body is debating a law, an important question is, “Does it pass constitutional muster?” Will it hold up in light of the Constitution?

When we are trying to decide if we should think, talk, or act in a certain way, we should ask, “Does it pass Jesus muster?” Will it hold up in the light of Jesus?

We should ask, “Does it pass the test of leading us to love, to show mercy, to offer grace, and—to serve?” Yes, listening to Jesus and learning from Jesus leads us to live a life of service. Listening as Mary did leads us to serve as Martha did—but without the pressure and worry.

The Gospel writers and editors arranged their material on purpose. Notice that Luke tells the story of the Good Samaritan, then the story of Mary and Martha, and then Jesus’ teachings on prayer. This literary structure offers us a good discipleship structure. We help as the Samaritan did. We pray as Jesus taught us to. But the Mary and Martha story is in the middle. Listening to and learning from Jesus is the centerpiece of discipleship.

How do we listen to Jesus? We read the Gospels. We pay close attention to what he did and said. We read the entire Bible in light of Jesus. We deal with issues and draw conclusions in light of Jesus. We deal with people in light of Jesus. We approach life in light of Jesus.

We listen to what Jesus says.

We learn from who Jesus is.

We live as Jesus wants us to live, always growing in mercy, grace, and service—always growing in love.

Our Country, Right or Wrong

I love the United States of America. This is my home. I was born here. I have lived here all my life. I’ve visited a few other countries, but I’m always glad to get home to the good old U.S.A.

To quote the great theologian Chuck Berry, “I’m so glad I’m livin’ in the U.S.A.!”

I love the United States of America. That’s why it makes me happy when we promote equality, practice justice, and foster community. That’s why it makes me unhappy when we don’t do those things.

I am proud of America. I want to become even prouder.

That’s why I sometimes find it necessary to criticize our nation, its policies, and its leaders.

Some folks seem to think that it’s wrong to criticize the current president. But those same folks didn’t think it was wrong to criticize the president who served before him.

Our problem is never with people criticizing the president. It’s with people criticizing this or that president. If we don’t agree with or like the president, we think it’s fine for us or anyone else to criticize him. But if we agree with or like the president, then we think it’s wrong for someone to criticize him.

Our attitude toward criticizing the president is more about partisanship than patriotism.

Loving America doesn’t mean always going along with whatever our leaders choose to do. And being critical of a leader doesn’t constitute hating America.

The idea that criticizing a president or other leader is unpatriotic is itself unpatriotic.

When President Trump ran for office, his campaign slogan was “Make America Great Again.” The slogan implied that America was no longer great. It implied that something was wrong with America that needed to be corrected.

Many people embraced that slogan and the assumptions behind it. Did they not love America? Did someone tell them to go back where they came from?

(By the way, unless we’re ancestors of those Native Americans who were already here when Europeans started arriving, our ancestors all came from somewhere else.)

Some of us believe that the current president’s vision of what makes America great and his approaches to fulfilling that vision actually lessen and weaken the nation. We speak, write, and work against his agenda not because we hate America but because we love it.

I want my nation to be the best nation it can be. I want it to make progress toward living up to its ideals. I don’t want us to settle for less than we can be. I don’t want us to accept division, prejudice, racism, xenophobia, and fear as its norms.

When someone criticizes or protests something that is going on in the United States, they might be criticized as being un-American or unpatriotic. But there are times when not criticizing and protesting is un-American and unpatriotic.

I affirm the statement, “My country, right or wrong.” Whether it is right or wrong, the United States is my country.

I celebrate when we do right. But I don’t celebrate when we do wrong. And the United States is sometimes wrong. When we are, it is still my country. But I want it to do right. I want it to do better.

I want my country always to be growing toward being the best country it can be.

I echo the words of Dr. King in his “I have a dream” speech: “Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’”

We understand even better than our founders did what it means for “all men” to be “created equal.” We know that it means that all people—female or male, black or brown or white, gay or straight—are created equal.

Our national goal should be for all people to be treated the same. Our national commitment should be for all of us to work together for the common good.

Now, we will debate what constitutes being “right” and “wrong.” That’s when things get really difficult. I know that. I recognize that we can’t all just get along and expect everything to work out. I know that we will disagree and debate.

But we disagree and debate most productively when we start from a place of mutual respect. When we all accept each other as Americans who love our country and who want it to be the best country it can be, we can work toward compromises that will move us ever closer to fulfilling our promise.

“Our country, right or wrong.”

When our country is wrong, we need to work together to make it right.

When our county is right, we need to work together to make it better.

Christian Decisions

I think a lot about something the poet Maya Angelou said: “I’m always amazed when people walk up to me and say, ‘I’m a Christian.’ I think, ‘Already? You already got it?’ I’m working at it, which means that I try to be as kind and fair and generous and respectful and courteous to every human being."

I guess I’d put it like this: “I am a Christian and I’m becoming a Christian.” Being Christian is my identity, but it’s also something I’m growing into. Hopefully, I’m always growing into being a better version of my Christian self.

Taking Jesus seriously is a basic part of being a Christian. I don’t understand how one can be a follower of Christ without taking seriously what Jesus said and did.

By “taking seriously” I mean more than knowing what Jesus did and said, although that’s the starting point. I mean trying to understand what it means to follow the Jesus who did and said what he did and said. I mean applying his life and teachings to my real life in this real world.

When I’m trying to figure out how I should respond to something or someone, what my position should be on an issue, or how I should behave in a situation, I start with Jesus.

What did Jesus do? What did Jesus say? That’s the base line from which I work. My main approach to learning these things is reading and studying the four New Testament Gospels.

Coming to grips with what Jesus did and said isn’t easy. So much of his guidance goes against the grain of what our culture accepts and even, all too often, of what churches and professed Christians practice.

I thought about writing a book called Things I Wish Jesus Hadn’t Said. Then I realized that the people who remembered, taught, wrote, compiled, and edited the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John beat me to it.

Some of you are saying, “What are you talking about?” I’d suggest you go read the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7). Read it slowly. Think about it. Now ask yourself how many Christians and churches really live like that. If you’re a Christian, ask yourself if you really live like that.

I’m sure you’ll answer honestly, so now ask yourself why not.

But as followers of Jesus, we must—we must—ask God, by God’s grace, through God’s Spirit, and by our best efforts, to us help think, feel, talk, and act in Jesus’ way.

That’s what I try to do. I fail, to be sure. Stuff gets in the way. People get in the way. I get in the way. But I keep trying. We should all keep trying.

As I’m trying to understand, accept, and follow Jesus’ ways, I’m also dealing with the real world.

So in any given situation, I try to consider circumstances, history, nuances, variables, contingencies, and so on. I also try to remember that for everything I know, there are roughly ten thousand things (a conservative estimate) I don’t know. I try to remember that, while I understand myself to some degree, I can understand someone else pretty much not at all.

In other words, I try to stay humble. When I pay attention to myself, it’s really not that hard.

So I start with Jesus, who is Lord of my life. I then take what I know of Jesus with me into the real world where I deal with real people, real problems, real issues, and real complications.

And then I come back to Jesus.

I ask—I implore—I beg Jesus to help me deal with people, problems, and issues as he would have me deal with them.

Then I do the best I can.

And next time, I try to do better.

I spend a lot of time wondering, repenting, failing, and trying again. I spend a lot of time going back to Jesus.

To sum up what I’m trying to say about how I try to live as a Christian (and please keep in mind that I haven’t tried to cover the entire Christian life, but rather just the decision-making part): given what I can know about what Jesus said and did (and remembering that I will always need to know more), and given what I can know about what’s going on in real life in the real world and why it’s going on (and remembering that I will always need to know more), what can I conclude about how Jesus would have me think, about what Jesus would have me say, and about what Jesus would have me do (remembering that I will always need to know more)?

Then, by the grace and Spirit of God, I think, say, and do what I think Jesus would have me think, say, and do.

As long as I am here, the process will never end.

It's Complicated

My father, the late great Champ Ruffin, was a good man.

He loved the Lord, he loved his family, he loved his church, and he loved his country.

He served in the Navy during World War II. After the war he married Sara Abbott. They brought me into the world in 1958.

That means I grew up in the 1960s and early 1970s. School desegregation finally came to our small town of Barnesville, Georgia, which was located more or less halfway between Atlanta and Macon, about the time we transitioned from one decade to the other.

It was a complicated time.

I grew up surrounded by racism. But my parents weren’t racists. They taught me to respect all people. When a family member made a racially insensitive comment, my parents reminded me that we didn’t think or talk that way in our house.

I never heard my parents say that school segregation was good or that desegregation was bad. I never heard them say a negative word about another person on the basis of race. When the time came for me to attend my first integrated school with my first African-American teachers in my seventh-grade year, they treated it as just another school year.

I’m grateful.

But then there’s this: both of my parents voted for George Wallace in the presidential election of 1968. I know this because my father told me he did, and my mother, using the excuse that she didn’t keep up with politics, always voted for whomever my father did.

She wasn’t exactly liberated.

My father died in 1979. I was newly married and getting ready to head off to seminary. I wasn’t yet at the point in life where I wondered enough about his thoughts and choices to have deep conversations with him about them.

But now I wonder: how could my father, good sensible Christian man that he was, vote for the racist George Wallace?

My best guess is that, while he didn’t like Wallace’s racial views, he felt threatened by the social changes brought about by opposition to the Vietnam War, the sexual revolution, and even the Civil Rights movement. I imagine that, in a time of great civil unrest, he liked Wallace's "law and order" emphasis. I suspect that he liked Wallace’s stance against the pointy-headed liberals who were trying to impose their will on the South. I think he was frightened by the changes that seemed inevitable. I suspect he just wanted to slow things down.

Times were complicated. Circumstances were complicated. My father was complicated.

I try to remember how complicated things and people always have been, are now, and always will be.

My father died before his only child turned out to be a pointy-headed liberal, so I don’t know what he’d think about me now.

My father was a good man whose fears led him to cast a bad vote. He wasn’t the first or the last person of whom that could be said.

The good news is that Wallace lost.

The better news is that my father later told me he regretted voting for Wallace.

Good folks recognize and admit their mistakes.

On the other hand, he said he should have voted for Nixon…

Small Steps and Giant Leaps

On Thursday, July 20, 1969 at 3:17 p.m., the Apollo 11 lunar landing module touched down on the moon’s surface. At 10:56 p.m. on that same day, astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first person to walk on the moon. Astronaut Buzz Aldrin soon joined Armstrong on the moon’s surface.

I was an almost eleven-year-old boy who was really glad to be out of school for the summer so I could stay up and watch the incredible event take place.

I joined millions of people in being enthralled by the moon landing.

The success of the Apollo project should remind us of what we can do when we put our minds to it.

As Armstrong stepped from the landing craft’s ladder onto the lunar surface, he said, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” The distance from the ladder’s bottom rung to the moon’s surface was small, but it represented a huge leap forward in humanity’s understanding of our place in the universe. For the first time, a human being had set foot on a body in our solar system other than Earth.

We’ve had some fascinating unmanned forays into space in the years since Apollo 11. The two Voyager probes were launched in 1977. Voyager 1 collected valuable data as it flew by Saturn. Voyager 2 did the same as it flew by Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. In 2015, the New Horizons probe flew by Pluto. New Horizons is still way out there somewhere. Voyager 1 and 2 are still even farther out there.

I’ll admit to being disappointed that we’ve not made more progress in sending people into space during the last half century. I hold out hope that we’ll put people on Mars while I’m still around. I’d love to see that happen.

You and I may not be able to make a giant leap for humankind as Neil Armstrong did, but we can take small steps forward, and giant leaps for humankind still happen one small step at a time.

We need to make a giant leap toward greater peace in the world. You and I can contribute to that leap by taking the small step of listening to and respecting those who think differently than we do.

We need to make a giant leap toward protecting democracy and achieving greater decency in our nation. You and I can contribute to that leap by taking the small step of supporting and voting for candidates who will try to do so.

We need to make a giant leap toward making quality affordable healthcare available to all Americans. You and I can contribute to that leap by taking the small step of calling our representatives and asking them to work toward doing so.

Those are just a few examples.

I believe that if enough of us will take enough small steps, we’ll eventually make the giant leaps forward that we need to make.

Our Faith, Their Health

We read about about a man named Naaman in 2 Kings 5:1-14.

Naaman was the general in charge of Syria’s army. He was important and powerful. He also had a disease.

Because Naaman was important and powerful, he had servants. One of them was a captured Israelite girl who told Naaman’s wife about a prophet in her home country who could cure Naaman.

Because Naaman was important and powerful, he had resources. Because he had resources, he was able to set out for Israel to visit Elisha, the prophet the servant was talking about. He took a lot of money and other valuables with him in case the prophet’s services required steep payment. Or maybe Naaman’s health insurance plan included a high deductible.

Let’s imagine a different scenario. Suppose the servant was sick. Suppose she mentioned to her masters that a prophet in her home country could help her. How likely is it that a servant with no privilege and no financial resources would be able to access the healthcare available through the prophet?

I had a conversation a while back with someone who had good health insurance and considerable personal wealth. He had recently traveled a long way to undergo a very specialized surgery for a life-threatening disease. He was telling me that his prescriptions cost him several thousand dollars out of pocket per month after his insurance paid what it would pay.

I asked him what people in his situation would do if they didn’t have a lot of money.

He shrugged.

It was a powerful shrug.

He probably meant it to say, “I don’t know what they’d do,” but it really said, “They’d die.” They would die because they aren’t privileged and wealthy enough to have access to the kind of care he received.

Many reports inform us of problems associated with a lack of access to healthcare or the cost of healthcare in the United States. For example, about 530,000 families file for bankruptcy each year, mainly due to medical bills (that’s 66.5% of all bankruptcies). About 27 million nonelderly individuals are uninsured, and one in five of them will not seek medical care because of concerns about cost. Women and people of color experience harmful disparities in receiving healthcare.

Some of us are like Naaman in that we have the resources to get whatever treatment we need. Some of us are like the servant in that we don’t have such resources. And others of us are somewhere in the middle—we have insurance and access to healthcare, but a serious illness might still cause us considerable financial strain.

Some of you may be thinking, “Now wait a minute. This unit is on ‘Prophetic Reminders: Keeping God at the Center,’ and this lesson is titled ‘God Is Present.’ Why are you talking about healthcare? Don’t the unit and the lesson focus on what God does? Shouldn’t you be writing about how God healed Naaman? Shouldn’t you be emphasizing what God did and does?”

Those are good questions.

God healed Naaman, but God worked through the servant and through Elisha to create the opportunity for healing. The servant and the prophet were both God’s people, and as God’s people they contributed to Naaman’s healing.

Access to and payment for healthcare are complicated issues, and I don’t pretend to know the solutions.

But as God’s people living in the United States in 2019, shouldn’t we be asking how God might want to work through us to make the opportunity for healing more available to everyone, regardless of their socioeconomic standing?

Shouldn’t we want Naaman’s employee to have the same access to healthcare that Naaman had?

(This article first appeared on Coracle, the blog of Next Sunday Resources.)