Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by
the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what
is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)
We
hear a lot in America today about socialism, communism, and fascism. I’ll bet a
lot of folks who sling those words around don’t really know what they mean. Dr.
Heather Cox Richardson, a professor of American history at Boston College, summarizes
fascism as “the belief that some people are better than others.[i]” I’m not about to call our
early Christian ancestors “fascists,” but this hierarchical system was exactly
what Saint Paul was dealing with when he wrote his great epistle to the Romans.
In
the Second Lesson for Pentecost 13 in the Revised Common Lectionary (Romans
12:1-8) Paul is doing what every good pastor struggles to do: hold together a
bunch of people with different backgrounds, different opinions, and different
personalities who are all trying to navigate a changing culture in a
frightening world.
Here’s
a little back story. The Gospel of Jesus Christ had reached the city of Rome
well before Paul ever got around to visiting the Christian community there. By
56 or 57 CE., however, Paul had become the rock star of the Christian faith.
His reputation was preceding him and, even though he was busy trying to get
those crazy Corinthians to behave themselves, the Christians in Rome were just as
anxious to see or hear from him as he was to see them. The best Paul could do
was write them a long letter which he sent to them courtesy of a lady named
Phoebe, a deacon from the nearby port town of Cenchreae. Phoebe, apparently,
was pretty flush with cash and could afford to support Paul and travel around
the Mediterranean world delivering his mail. Paul wanted to address the Roman
Christians’ concerns, let them know he was planning a visit, get them to kick
in a few bucks to help out the starving church back in Jerusalem,[ii] and support his further
missionary efforts in Spain (a trip he was never able to make)[iii].
Back
around 49 CE Emperor Claudius decided he didn’t like Jews, so he kicked them
out of Rome. This meant that Jewish Christians also had to leave town. When
Claudius died, the Jews moved back, only to find that the church was now run by
a new group of primarily Gentile Christians. It’s the old story—a clash between
the Old Guard and those young whippersnappers who think they know it all. This
is what Paul was facing in the church at Rome.
Paul
urged the Romans to look with the eyes of Christ and not to be conformed to the
ways of the age. After all, the way of Roman society was always to divide
people into social classes. If you lived in that society, you knew there were
Patricians and Plebians—the rich folks and the not-so-rich folks—with some
minor sub-categories in each group. Paul urged Christians not to model the
church on those kinds of worldly distinctions, but to look at one another with
the eyes of Christ.
If
you read through the Pauline epistles, you’ll see Paul making this same
argument again and again. He reminds the Galatians that being Jewish doesn’t
make you a better Christian (and you don’t need to be circumcised!)[iv]. He dresses down the
Corinthians for humiliating the less affluent members of the church by leaving
them out of the Lord’s Supper[v]. His aim is always to turn
the nascent Christians away from worldly values and love one another in fraternal
community. His request to the mostly Gentile Christians of Rome to send aid to
the mostly Jewish Christians of Jerusalem is not just a humanitarian effort but
an attempt to reconcile two factions within the Christian movement.
The
Gospel Paul preaches is one which humbles the exalted and exalts the humble. If
you’re in Christ, there’s no one better than you and no one worse. My work as
an ordained pastor does not make me a superior Christian. I don’t deserve to be
treated with any more respect than the next person, and the next person should
be treated with no less respect than that with which I am treated.
God
doesn’t assign us positions of status. What God does assign are spiritual
gifts. Each of us has something to offer for the good of the rest of us. Martin
Luther taught that every Christian is in some way a priest. That is, each of us
has the ability to pray and make intercession for others, and any work we do
for the good of society is Godly work. In this passage Paul mentions three
gifts which I find of note.
Prophecy
is not about predicting the future. Any of us could be a prophet by taking a
firm grasp on the obvious and declaring that, should things go on as they are,
there will be a predictable end. When you mom warned you to look both ways on a
busy street, she was being a prophet. Prophets don’t predict what will
happen, they warn us about what may happen.
Paul
marries sincerity to generosity. There are right reasons to give, and
not-so-right reasons. If you make a huge donation to get your name on some
wall, that’s not charity. It’s commerce. If you give out of guilt or obligation,
that’s coercion. If, however, you give because you truly believe your gift makes
a positive impact, that’s a blessing.
Finally,
Paul tells us the gift of compassion is cheerfulness. This sounds a little
counterintuitive. After all, when you’re dealing with a serious emotional issue,
you don’t want to be around someone who is grinning like they’re a toke over
the line and cracking jokes. Neither do you want someone whose pessimism or
anger or judgmental nature mirrors your won at that moment. You need someone
whose true joy in the Lord is so deep in their heart that they can cry their
eyes out with you but not leave you hopeless.
To
sum it all up? It’s just about living every day seeking the way of Christ.
My
mind can always use some renewing, so please leave me a comment if you wish.
Thanks for reading, my friend, and thanks for being part of the Church.
No comments:
Post a Comment