(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on April 14, 2019, Palm Sunday)
Why the Temple?
The conversation began like many
conversations began. The
five-year-old boy had a question for everything.
“Why do we go to the Temple,
daddy?”
“The Temple is where we worship
God,” the father answered.
“But how do we worship God?” the
boy asked.
“Prayer,” the father replied,
“and sacrifice.”
“You mean the dead animals,” the
boy said.
“Yes. And the grain also.”
“But why animals and grain?” the
boy continued.
The father paused. “Well, it’s what everyone does. It’s our custom. It’s written in our laws. This is the way we say thank you to God
and ask for God’s favor. We
sacrifice what is most important to us.
Worship is all about our relationship with God.”
Silence followed as the boy
furrowed his brow. Finally he
tilted his head toward the sky and pondered aloud, “I wonder what God does with
all those dead animals.”
Why Sunday?
Worship looks a lot different
today than it did two thousand years ago in the Temple. Gone are the dead animals and grain
offerings. (Which is a good thing,
because I do not do well with blood!)
But much remains the same.
We gather weekly. We pray
prayers. We sing songs. We read scripture. Some of the same words are repeated
every Sunday.
The question that some little boy
surely asked thousands of years ago, echoes still today. Why? Why do we worship?
Why do we come to church on Sunday? Is it because that’s what our parents did? Is it because we’re trying to score
points with God?
Jesus went to synagogue on the
Sabbath. Jesus went to the
Temple. Interestingly, though,
when the gospel of Mark shows us these occasions, we see Jesus continually
shattering the Sabbath ceremony.
Repeatedly he heals on the Sabbath, which was certainly not in the order
of service. His disciples pluck
grain on the Sabbath, contrary to the custom of the day, in which the potluck
meal would be prepared ahead of time and no food preparation would took place
on the Sabbath. And it wasn’t only
what Jesus did on the Sabbath that defied tradition. Throughout the week, he flouted forgiveness formalities and
table manners. He ate with sinners
and tax collectors, he forgave people whom the authorities had deemed judged
and condemned by God.
We see very little of Jesus
worshiping on the Sabbath—or at least, worshiping in the custom of his
contemporaries.
More Than Just Sacrifice
When the scribe approaches Jesus
in today’s scripture, we can imagine what is coming: another rebuke from a
religious authority. Most of the
scribes and Pharisees have taken offense at Jesus’ inappropriate behavior on
the Sabbath and beyond.
The scribe begins with a
question: “Which commandment is first of all?”
Jesus responds with an answer
that is not quite appropriate. The
question calls for one commandment, but he gives two. The two commandments that Jesus cites are both commonly
cited by other rabbis of his time: one from Deuteronomy, “to love the Lord your
God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength”; the other from Leviticus,
“to love your neighbor as yourself.”[1] What is surprising is that Jesus cites
both commandments together. While other rabbis commend each
commandment, none that we know of spoke of the two commandments together as one
and the same.[2] It’s as though Jesus is saying here
what he says elsewhere: “heaven must come to earth—there is no love of God
except in love of neighbor.”[3]
Perhaps even more surprising is
the scribe’s response: “You are right, rabbi,” he says. “This is much more important than all
whole burnt offerings and sacrifices” (12:33). For once, a religious leader gets it. This scribe appreciates the
revolution. He sees that the rules
and regulations of worship, the burnt offerings and sacrifices, can actually
get in the way of true worship.
Shortly after today’s scripture, Jesus calls out one such obstruction of
worship. The religious leaders at
the Temple apply taxes that effectively devour the homes of widows, he
says. In the interest of
sacrifices and a well-run Sabbath service, the religious leaders take from the
needy. And heaven recedes from
earth.
Loving God
If Jesus and this scribe have
anything to say, worship is not about custom and convention. Those things can become hollow, can
become more about us, can actually distract us from what matters most. Neither is worship a pep rally, where
we score points with God and align ourselves with the winning team. In effect, that’s how some people
worshiped Jesus when he entered Jerusalem, waving palms and chanting his
praise. But the same crowds of
people would be calling for his death days later. The worship of power led the people away from worship of
God.
Worship, for Jesus, is about
loving God. And here’s the twist
that Jesus brings to everything: loving God is ultimately the same thing as loving
one’s neighbor. Is it any
coincidence, then, that we see Jesus repeatedly shattering Sabbath and ceremony
in order to speak to the troubled, to heal the sick, to forgive the condemned,
to gather around tables with sinners?
Are not each of these things about the love of neighbor? Are not these each acts of worship?
I don’t think Jesus was against
institutions like the Temple or the Sabbath day. I think what he was against was institutionalization: the
tendency of institutions to forget their original purpose, so that protocol
came before people, so that custom and convention were more important than the
cry of the needful.
Mischievous Ministry
Several weeks ago, I shared with
you that I was pondering Jesus’ Sabbath example and what it might mean for the
church today. Today I cannot help
but think that much of Jesus’ mischievous ministry—for that’s most certainly
what it was for the religious authorities—is in fact his renewal of sacred
institutions. In response to the
question, “Why worship?” Jesus’ answer was simple: to love God and love
neighbor. The two went hand in
hand. What better way to celebrate
God’s liberation on the Sabbath than to liberate persons enslaved by illness
and disease? What better way to
celebrate God’s love than to share it around a table with the unloved?
I wonder…could Jesus’ mischievous
ministry be an example for the church today? Could following Jesus mean occasionally leaving behind some
of the familiar procedures and protocol on a Sunday so that we can touch the
need of the world? If the general
behavior of religious leaders in Jesus’ day is any indication, the religious
establishment loathes change. But
there is hope for us yet. The
scribe in today’s scripture shows us another response. The scribe today confesses before Jesus
that, yes, in fact worship is much more than burnt offerings and
sacrifices. Worship is as much
love of neighbor as it is love of God—for aren’t they one and the same?
So I have an invitation. Would you consider once in a while
welcoming a disruption to our Sunday routine? Not every Sunday, but just once in a while, so that we might
follow Jesus’ Sabbath example and reach out to touch the needful among our
neighbors. Could we reach out one
Sunday and hold the hands of our neighbors in the memory care unit across the
street? Could we sit another
Sunday on a bench with the homeless and talk about…talk about whatever, so long
as they knew that we see them as brothers and sisters in the family of
God? The forefather of faith,
Abraham, lived a semi-nomadic life.
Could we do that too, not sheltering ourselves in this building but
trusting and following God as we hop occasionally to other places in our
community on Sunday, sharing the love of God and whatever worship would be
appropriate with our neighbors in need?
Does the idea unsettle you?
Inspire you? Jesus blessed
the needful on the Sabbath. Do you
have ideas about how we could bless our neighbors on a Sunday sojourn of our
own? Let us know!
After reading today’s scripture,
my enthusiasm for a Sunday sojourn is only made stronger. For when the scribe sets his sights
beyond the religious routine, beyond the burnt offerings and sacrifices of the
temple, Jesus tells him where he is, and it’s where I want to be: “You are not
far from the kingdom.”
Prayer
Jesus, our teacher,
Worship drew you nearer
To God and neighbor alike.
May your mischievous ministry
Inspire in us
The same spirit of worship.
Lead us today
Beyond symbols and ceremony
And into the kingdom of God,
Where we see in our neighbors
Your face.
Amen.
[1] Cf. Deut
6:5; Lev 19:18.
[2] Vincent
Taylor, The Gospel According to St. Mark
(London: Macmillan, 1966), 488.
[3] Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading
of Mark’s Story of Jesus (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1988), 318.
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