Marsh Chapel Sermon Archive

Sunday
June 11

St. Matthew’s ‘Workquake’

By Marsh Chapel

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Matthew 9:9–26

Good morning! I’m so glad to be back with you at Marsh Chapel, and to participate in this sermon series on Matthew and the Cost of Discipleship.

The writer Sue Monk Kidd reminds us of the root of the word “crisis,” in her essay “Crossing the Threshold.” She writes:

"A crisis is a holy summons to cross a threshold. It involves both a leaving behind and a stepping toward, a separation and an opportunity.

"The word crisis derives from the Greek words krisis and krino, which mean 'a separating.' The very root of the word implies that our crises are times of severing from old ways and states of being. We need to ask ourselves what it is we’re being asked to separate from. What needs to be left behind?"

~ Sue Monk Kidd, from the essay “Crossing the Threshold,” in “The Dance of the Dissident Daughter”

In our gospel reading for today, Jesus encounters three people in crisis. For two of these, the leader of the synagogue whose daughter has died, and the woman with the hemorrhage that won’t stop, these are health crises, and they are acute. Jesus is their last hope. The leader of the synagogue is in the middle of an emergency: his daughter is already dead, but he has faith that if he can just get Jesus to lay hands on her, she will live again. For the woman with the hemorrhage, we are told in the Gospel of Mark where this story also appears that she had seen many doctors, who had not been able to help her at all. For both the synagogue leader’s emergency and the woman’s debilitating chronic illness, Jesus is their last shot at healing. And he does raise the man’s daughter from the dead, and the woman’s touch of his cloak does stop her hemorrhages.

These are such dramatic and powerful stories, that it would be easy to skip over Matthew, there in his booth. Matthew doesn’t actually say anything to Jesus that is recorded here, or ask anything of him. Instead he responds, immediately and whole-heartedly, to Jesus’ invitation to follow him. And that’s how we know he is in crisis: because he just leaves his booth by the side of the road, and never goes back! He has one brief encounter with Jesus, and he leaves his old life behind, for good! There’s a lot of talk in the media these days about so-called “quiet quitting”; this is “loud quitting”!

Now we are reading the Gospel attributed to Matthew, and this is Matthew’s story. It’s just a few verses, and Matthew himself doesn’t say anything in words. But walking off the job communicates a lot. Matthew has had what the writer Bruce Feiler calls a “workquake.” Some of you may remember Bruce Feiler’s bestselling book Walking the Bible from a number of years back. He also recently wrote a book called Life in the Transitions, where he coined the word “lifequake,” to describe points of crisis where our lives seem to open up and rupture, as in an earthquake. In Feiler’s new book, The Search: Finding Meaningful Work in the Post-Career World, Feiler focuses on “workquakes,” the crises or significant turning points that people have over the course of their careers. He urges his readers to examine their own “work story,” and, for those seeking deeper meaning and purpose from their work, to ask themselves questions about their past, present, and dreams for the future that can help them to chart a new course in their careers.

Perhaps Matthew is a good patron saint for these pandemic and post-pandemic times, when four and a half million people left their jobs in 2022, following a trend of what economists call “quit rates” increasing steadily and significantly for the past several years. Feiler argues that many Americans are now rejecting the narrow definition of success that was handed down “by parents, encouraged by . . . neighbors, [and[ reinforced by . . . culture,” questioning its values and challenging its assumptions. People are looking for other measures of achievement than “more, higher, better.” And, they are resisting unjust, inequitable, and discriminatory systems and structures in the workplace that devalue and demean their contributions. We are seeing a resurgence in the labor movement, not just on the factory floor, but in corporate behemoths like Amazon and Starbucks, and also, it should be noted, among graduate students and non-tenure track professors, including at the School of Theology of this very University.

What made Matthew walk off the job in the middle of his workday? It’s clear that Jesus was not offering him a competitive salary with benefits package. Quite the opposite! What kind of internal crisis was happening in Matthew’s life, that led to this abrupt and permanent break with his profession?

Since it wasn’t about money or status, it must have been about meaning and purpose. Maybe before Jesus showed up at Matthew’s booth, he had heard about this wandering rabbi and wonder-worker who preached that his mission was to bring good news to the poor, to heal, and to set prisoners free. Had Matthew’s toll booth become a prison?

And yes, it’s likely that Matthew was not, as the NRSV translates, a tax collector, but in fact a telones in Greek, a toll collector. That helps explain why Jesus meets him on the road, and why he’s in a booth! And for those of you youngsters in the congregation, there was a time when there were real live toll collectors inside the toll booths . . . and when you paid tolls with actual coins. Does anyone else remember manually rolling down the car window, in order to toss quarters into the toll booth receptacle?? Good times.

I will not share all the scintillating details with you from the lengthy article I read on first century taxation, except to say that Matthew, as a toll collector, was probably more of a lower-level functionary collecting smaller tolls and taxes, rather than someone with more clout in the direct employ of the Roman empire.

Which begs the question: “toll collectors and sinners”??? What’s with that recurring biblical phrase? Apparently, toll collectors were notorious for being dishonest. They were the used-car salesmen of the ancient world. And while they generally not big shots, it probably didn’t help their reputation that they were functionaries in the Roman Imperial system.

Matthew then has Jesus over to his house for dinner. (This is what the gospel of Luke says, in Luke’s version of the story.) But the low esteem in which his former profession is held causes scandal, and the Pharisees ask Jesus’ other disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with toll collectors and sinners?” And Jesus answers, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. . . I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.”

The counter-cultural thinker Alan Watts wrote, "See, I am a philosopher and if you don't argue with me, I don't know what I think. If we argue, I say 'Thank You', because owing to the courtesy of you taking a different point of view, I understand what I mean, so I can't get rid of you." I am not a philosopher, but I am from New Jersey, and so I can relate to this. (pause) I grew up in a place where ordinary conversation can seem pretty combative to people from other parts of the country!

And I think that Jesus is in a similar environment. In my years of reading the Bible and preaching, I’ve come to see these ongoing conversations between Jesus and the Pharisees in this light. Their discussions or arguments can get heated, in the way that the discussions of philosophers or political junkies get heated. The Pharisees, Jesus and his disciples, and here the disciples of John the Baptist show up too: they are all working out what they believe in constant conversation and argument with each other. They are debating each other, criticizing each other, and ultimately challenging each other. I see them more as frenemies, than enemies, through much of Jesus’ ministry. They have a lot in common.

So Matthew’s presence as a disciple causes scandal, and then John’s disciples pop over to ask why Jesus and his disciples don’t fast in the way that they do. And Jesus gives two parabolic answers, one pretty straightforward, the other not. First, he says they do not fast because no one fasts during a wedding celebration—Jesus is the bridegroom, and when he’s gone, his disciples will fast. Jesus’ presence has ushered in a new age, and his good news to the poor, healing of the sick, and release of the prisoners is a Messianic celebration.

And then he has two more sayings: “No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old cloak, for the patch pulls away from the cloak, and a worse tear is made. Neither is new wine put into old wineskins; otherwise, the skins burst, and the wine is spilled, and the skins are destroyed; but new wine is put into fresh wineskins, and so both are preserved.”

Okay, what? [This teaching is obscure enough, that the compilers of the Revised Common Lectionary edited it out of today’s reading; but I thought it was important enough to edit back in, and so you lucky folks get extra Bible to chew on today. Marsh Chapel, now with 20% more parables!]

Jesus has been challenged as to the kind of person he allows to join his disciples, and to how they practice their faith—and he gives this as an answer. Why, and what does it mean? And, what does it mean for us?

First, let’s notice what Jesus does not say: he does not say that new clothes are better than old clothes; and that new wine is better than old wine.

So here, Jesus is not saying that his new ministry and mission is supplanting or replacing the old. In fact, these are sayings about how to preserve the old garment, and the old wine.

These are sayings about craft: about the choices that a tailor and a vinter would make. A tailor would not sew new, unshrunk cloth to old preshrunk cloth, because it would further damage the garment instead of mending it. A vinter would not put new wine, that would still be fermenting and so creating gasses and expanding, into old wineskins: because the old leather has already stretched as much as it can stretch, and the skins would burst and ruin everything.

In other words, the new materials are flexible and elastic; they can stretch. They can adapt. The old cannot effectively receive the new, because the flexibility is gone.

Jesus is talking about craft, and the tradition of craft. Tailors make new garments, and repair old ones: cloth is precious, and nothing is wasted. Vinters make new wine, and age old wine, and sell both, at different prices. And, new wine ages and becomes old wine, and the craft of winemaking continues.

These sayings are not about replacing the old with the new. They are about carrying on the tradition and the craft.

Jesus is saying, new movements cannot be contained in the systems and structures of old movements. They need their own containers. They need systems and structures that can still adapt and change and change shape as necessary. And that this is not a break with tradition, but an essential part of carrying on tradition. Jesus is saying that he is not the kind of rabbi that the Pharisees are, and he is not the kind of prophet that John is. His mission and his ministry are different. And so are his disciples. And it is best not to try to force them into containers that won’t hold them.

His disciples are people like Matthew—people who have become dissatisfied, people who are searching for relationship with God, people who have come to a crisis point in their lives where they need to make a change. Who want to find purpose and meaning in their work and in their lives—who want to be on the side of the liberators and not the oppressors. Who are no longer fine with the status quo—because of who gets left out and left behind.

And the religious communities of Jesus’ day were not able to accommodate people like Matthew. In fact, they did not want those people around at all.

We in the Church are also having a collective lifequake, a collective workquake. We are in the midst of a crisis—of decline, but also a crisis of identity, and a crisis of formation. We are in a historical moment, made more acute and urgent by the pandemic, where it is not at all clear how our faith traditions will be carried on to the next generation. Churches are struggling and closing, longtime church members are dying and not being replaced, our church buildings are often too big and too old to maintain. Most of our congregations are in survival mode, with little energy for those outside their doors.

And Jesus says to us: stop trying to sew a new patch on an old garment. Stop trying to force the new wine into old wineskins.

Our systems and structures need to change. Completely. No more retrofitting; “redevelopment” is not enough. You need new containers, for what the Holy Spirit is doing in your midst right now. We need to think differently about community, about formation and education, about worship, about mission and identity and purpose, about leadership and responsibility and governance—and about buildings.

Or, you are going to lose it all. The craft, the tradition, the gospel, will not continue in the places they have been.

This is the cost of discipleship in our own day: do we hold on to what we know, and let nostalgia continue to corrode our congregations until there’s nothing left?

Or do we follow Jesus into a new way of being church? With new disciples, who weren’t there before—but who long for good news, healing, liberation—and authentic relationship with God.

It’s our choice.

“The very root of the word implies that our crises are times of severing from old ways and states of being. We need to ask ourselves what it is we’re being asked to separate from. What needs to be left behind?"”

I’ll look forward to being back with you in August, to continue this conversation.

In God’s name, Amen.

-The Rev. Dr. Regina L. Walton, Denominational Counselor for Anglican/Episcopal Students and Lecturer, Harvard Divinity School

posted in Guest Preachers on 06.11.2023 at 11:00 am

Sunday
January 15

Love As Action: Reflections on the Philosophy of Dr. King and Howard Thurman

By Marsh Chapel

John 1:29–42

This sermon was given in honor and celebration of the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. on MLK Jr. Weekend 2023.

The text of this sermon is unavailable. We apologize for any inconvenience.

-The Honorable Judge Christopher Edwards,

Friend of Marsh Chapel & Member of the Marsh Chapel Advisory Board

posted in Guest Preachers, Services Honoring the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on 01.15.2023 at 11:00 am

Sunday
August 14

Judgment and Grace

By Marsh Chapel

Luke 12:49–56

A written text of this sermon is currently unavailable.

-Mr. William Edward Cordts, Friend of Marsh Chapel

posted in Guest Preachers on 08.14.2022 at 11:00 am

Sunday
July 31

Litmus Faith

By Marsh Chapel

Luke 12:13–21

Have you ever used a litmus test? A litmus test is a test using a special colorized paper. You dip the paper into a liquid and the color of the paper will change to blue or red, depending on whether the liquid is an acid or a base. The blue part of the paper will turn red if placed in something acidic and red paper will turn blue if placed in something basic. Many schools use the litmus test as a hands-on science experiment for students. It’s a relatively easy science experiment for kids that is still fun.

The term litmus test is used more broadly as a way of determining whether something will pass or not. It is widely used in politics, especially concerning court justices and presidential candidates. Hot button issues can be polarizing litmus tests which supposedly determine party affiliation or other meaningful political information. A lot of times certain issues become a sort of litmus test for things like dating, friend groups, or voting. Litmus tests are also used in churches. What is a sacrament, how often should communion be celebrated, and do you baptize or dedicate an infant? Calvinism or Free Will? Depending on the results of a litmus test during a sermon, we might tune in more closely or think harder about what we should have for lunch. The simplicity of a litmus test is helpful for making quick decisions. It recognizes that our pre-judgements often shape how we experience what is going on around us.

As a science project, a litmus test is straightforward. The results are either acid, base, or neutral. The paper shows the results of what is present. It is a fairly objective process; however, when the idea of a litmus test gets applied to other realms, like politics and theology, the process becomes much more subjective. That means that our experiences, identity, and other elements factor into the process. The results are rarely as straightforward as acid, base, or neutral and almost always some element of choice is involved. The subjective element allows for nuance and situational aspects to be accounted for, but too often the limitations of subjectivity are taken as objective fact. What I mean by that is something grounded in the perspective and experience of a person is taken as truthful constants; rather than, as something interpreted from a particular point of view. Interpretation always extends from who we are. It extends from our points of view, even as it comes back to shape our point of view. What we see in a text or in life, is partly influenced by our experiences of life.

To give this a concrete context, think about the national debates over what is currently written about in history books, especially with regard to race and racism. States and school systems around the country are banning and altering curriculum in dire dystopian fashion. On the one hand, this is wrong, untrue, and harmful. And on the other hand, it is actively shaping the point of view of younger generations so that their experiences of the world are marked by a certain understanding of the world and events. When I was in high school, a history teacher made it a strong point that the Civil War was not fought over slavery. We were told multiple times that slavery was not the cause of the Civil War. We lost points on essays and exams if we claimed otherwise. We were told the Civil War was fought “to preserve the Union” and over “States Rights.” To use this litmus test from history is to lose all nuance and complexity over past events while allowing a present system of injustice to persist.

The stakes are high when it comes to history books, which is why the conflict is so important and strong. The danger is not only misinformation but a complete inability to engage truthfully with the past so that present oppression can continue. Prior point of view largely impacts present understandings and experiences of the monuments. And this is where the metaphor litmus test breaks down a bit. Because of elements like choice and experience, a litmus test outside of science it is not simply a means of determining acid, neutral, or base. It is often a choice to interpret the information or experience filtered through prior beliefs. The metaphor litmus test is popularly used as a way of testing beliefs or views on a matter. In practice, the litmus paper interacts with a solution to show you what type of solution is present, but in everyday practice, the litmus test actually reinforces preconceived beliefs to avoid honest and difficult engagement. While there are necessary reasons for this detachment, especially the survival of people constantly threatened by policies and views of others, there are consequences. Rather than deny point of view, experience, and subjectivity, we can account for the ways they influence us as we engage in discourse, especially the ways we approach differences.

Colossians 3:11 says, “In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!” While some of the particular markers of identity may not be readily recognizable to modern readers, the summary solidifies the point. “Christ is all and in all.” Some have taken to interpret this text as a denial of earthy identity. The only identity that matters is that which we have in Christ. Others have cited this text as a defense of color-blind approaches to race and racism which deny the significance of race or the presence of modern racism. For these approaches, difference is an obstacle that gets in the way of unity. In a vacuum, these approaches might have more merit than detriments but in our actual context, they have more detriment than merit. They become a litmus test, a tool which denies difference an opportunity to flourish. They also deny subjectivity to marginalized people and creates maladaptive identities in those with power. Our unity in Christ does not come at the cost of diversity and uniqueness. In fact, it is our differences and uniqueness which lead us even further into the divine mystery. At the same time, our unity and diversity in Christ also does not claim that all experiences of the world are equal. Some, lead toward justice and equity, while others lead toward hate and oppression. Perhaps, a better litmus test for politics and theology would be one that determines whether the course is loving or not. If only it were that simple…

The prophet Hosea lived in a contentious time in Israel’s history. He was a contemporary of the prophet Amos, whose words against the rampant social injustices are so strong. Amos denounced those who hoarded wealth unjustly and those who participated in harmful economic policies which kept the poor in poverty. Amos was especially critical of those who did so with a veneer of theological legitimacy. Those who built large barns off the backs of the poor, all the while, referring to their wealth as evidence of God’s blessing. Jesus’s parable, and Hosea’s message to these people are similar. That which is given, can be taken away and God desires justice not sacrifice. God desires faithful obedience not gifts that are lessened by how they were acquired. Hosea warned that the Assyrians would be a means of God’s justice for the injustice he witnessed. Where Amos rallied for social well-being and justice, Hosea emphasized faithfulness and knowledge of God. Two prophets, each revealing a part of God’s heart. Each complementing the other and trying to guide a people to live justly.

As you know, Old Testament prophets were not people who possessed crystal balls that could predict the future. They were God’s messengers, often in words and deeds. They discerned the word of the Lord and passed it along to the people. But this was an interpretive enterprise. The life of the prophet, the experiences of the prophet became a part of the interpretive process. The prophets were not passive people who recorded a voice they heard from beyond but active interpreters of their historical and social situations in light of their understanding and encounters with the Divine. The Word of the Lord came to them, but they were intimately involved in discerning and interpreting the Word. More often than not, the prophets of the Old Testament responded to their social and historical situations rather than making predictions about the far-off future. This means that prophets were far more human than popular imagination can make them out to be but also that we are invited to the same interpretive activity of the prophets. We interpret and discern the time we are in, in connection with others and the faith of ages past.

By nature of their inclusions in our Scripture, it can be easy to miss that the prophets were not always accepted by the people. They did not always champion popular views and they frequently engaged in polarizing prophetic ministry. What Hosea claimed of God was not readily accepted in his day, partly because there were other prophets who made opposing claims to Hosea. It is not surprising that a study of the prophets shows that often the most popular prophets, those who do not have books named after them in the canon, were the ones who predicted good things for the people and required very little change.

Some of these other prophets made their claims by virtue of other deities, like Baal as the Hosea reading says, but some prophesied differently from the canonical prophets and still in the name of YHWH. When we peer beneath the surface of our prophetic literature, we see communities in tension over how to interpret the times and God’s involvement in the world. We see different voices, sometimes even competing voices vying for legitimacy. Just as those who put the biblical cannon together had to ask, which prophets authentically spoke for God, we too have to discern between the myriad of voices in the present who claim to speak about God in our time. This is no easy task.

Hosea’s prophetic ministry began around 745 B.C.E. The book which bears his name utilizes many metaphors to discuss the relationship between God and God’s people. Metaphors are helpful in that task because we need something which helps us describe in human speech something that is greater than human speech. While still limited, metaphors help us grasp the mystery of the divine. Hosea uses the parent-child metaphor for God and Israel throughout the book and in the passage we read today. “11:1 When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son.” The passage continues to note the ways God nurtured the people of Israel. Mention of Egypt and the Exodus, teaching Ephraim to walk, holding the people in arms, and providing healing.

We see that Hosea claims God is not only a parent to Israel but a good parent. A parent who loves and cares, a parent who helps develop the child into adulthood. God is faithful in steadfast love for the people. Hosea draws from the covenant tradition here. His imagery is either a reminder or a further development of God’s covenant with Israel in the wilderness after Egypt. “I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.” This is the level of care that many would desire from their God. Love, care, and nourishment. If you have taken care of a parent, child, or pet perhaps you can relate to the connection between love and care.

But, Hosea also claims that the people were not steadfast in their faithfulness to God. “11:2 The more I called them, the more they went from me; they kept sacrificing to the Baals, and offering incense to idols.” Because of their unfaithfulness, Hosea warns the people that they will return to Egypt and that Assyria will rule over them. Hosea speaks of God’s love and God’s steadfastness but also of impending wrath and destruction. Hosea sees the historical rises of Egypt and Assyria as a real threat to Israel but interprets it in light of his understandings of God’s desired faithfulness. In other words, Hosea interprets the international scene from theocentric and Israel-centric standpoints. He engages the past and the history of the people to interpret the present.

When I teach this passage to Old Testament students, we take a long pause here to discuss the connection between history and the present with God’s action. Many students are quick to embrace Hosea’ theological methodology, connecting events around him with beliefs, and engaging the times with God. Sometimes these events are specific and other times they are more general. Such efforts, I think are commendable. Because I believe God is active in Creation, I too want to make sure my beliefs and theology reflect the possibilities opened by that posture.

However, after some time, I like to play the devil’s advocate with them. I bring up examples of pastors who have made claims of God in the aftermath of events like Katrina or Supreme Court cases which I assume are in opposition to the student’s beliefs about God and Creation. They usually see the difficulty. When Christians claim God is not bound by the pages in a book but active in the world, much can be claimed of God that is not noble, true, and right. When Christians claim the totality of Euro-American centric theologies, even ones grounded in the genuine experiences of those peoples, harms take place. But then the question rises, how do we discern the word of the Lord among the cacophony of those claiming to be prophets?

There is no litmus test to determine definitely just as the people of Israel had no litmus test to determine a true or false prophet. It is one reason; we speak of being cautious while making universal claims about God and all the unknowns. With the biblical witness, we have the advantage of time and those who have discerned for us in the past. We look back as modern interpreters who can discern and interpret God’s activity over the course of hundreds and thousands of years. Scripture guides us through the past and offers direction for the present. I do not think we should not be tempted by approaches to Scripture that claim to speak absolutely about absolute matters. Scripture does not speak in one voice but in many. It is among its many voices that we are called to witness the work of the Holy One. This invites us to discern, the multiple voices and traditions present within our tradition, even as we recognize that not all voices are good. Just as ancient Israel had to discern which prophets to listen to, we too are invited to this process of holy discernment among the myriad of voices claiming to speak for God today.

Perhaps, a key to a healthy Gospel is not so much the absolute surety of a litmus test but an openness to keep dipping beliefs and experiences into the living water as a means of being transformed into God’s likeness. It might mean we need to change pre-conceived notions and deeply held convictions, but it might just start us on a journey to a more equitable and just world. Led by the hope of the Gospel and the presence of the Holy Spirit.

-The Rev. Scott Donahues-Martens, PhD Candidate, BU STH

posted in Guest Preachers on 07.31.2022 at 11:00 am