Monday, September 18, 2023

Tolerating is not the way? (Sun, Sept 17, 2023)

 Reading: Romans 14:1-12

 What do you when the good news is that “all are welcome,” and all kinds of people, with very different views about things, believe it?  In the reading today, Paul is trying to help the church find its way through a conflict that has emerged around eating meat.

On one side are members who interpret the Jewish law as commanding them to eat no meat at all.  To them, any believer who eats meat is disobeying God’s law.  And what makes things worse is that some of those who eat meat are buying it from pagan priests in the city, who sell the charred meat after it is used in religious sacrifices to the idols.  So, not only do these people eat meat, they consort with pagan priests as their suppliers.  It seems to this first group that they should be held to account for their choices.

On the other side, are members who believe that Christ has set them free from such rigid and punitive interpretations of the law.  Also, in their mind what they are doing in buying the meat where they do, is showing all the city that Jesus is so superior to the idols, and that the idols are so meaningless, that whatever meat is used in their superstitious rituals is still just meat, and nothing more.  They feel it is they, not the first group, that has the stronger faith in Jesus.

 

Paul tackles the issue in Romans 14:1-12, speaking first to the meat-buyers and meat-eaters in the church.  He says this:

 

Welcome and accept the one whose faith is “weak” (as you see it), but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions.

 

One person’s faith allows them to eat anything, and another, whose faith is “weak” (as you see it) eats only vegetables. The one who eats everything must not treat with contempt the one who does not, and the one who does not eat everything must not judge the one who does, for God has welcomed and accepted them.

 

Who are you to judge someone else’s servant?  To their own master, servants stand or fall.  And they will stand, for the Lord is able to make them stand.

 

One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike.  Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind.  Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord. Whoever eats meat does so to the Lord, for they give thanks to God; and whoever abstains does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God.

 

For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord.  So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living.

 

You, then, why do you judge your brother or sister? Or why do you treat them with contempt? For we will all stand before God’s judgment seat.  It is written:

“‘As surely as I live,’ says the Lord,
‘every knee will bow before me;
    
every tongue will acknowledge God.’”

 

So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.

 

Reflection

 

Paul is addressing a church in a tizzy about meat.  Some think eating meat is forbidden by God, and those who break the law should be chastised.  And what makes it worse is that some are even going to pagan priests to buy meat left-over from sacrifices to their idols.  We cannot eat any unclean thing.  Nor can we support idol worship. 

 

The other side, though, points out that Jesus has freed us from the futility of following the letter of the law as a way to make ourselves holy.  He invites us to live in the Spirit as he did, and focus only on living out God’s love for all in each situation.  They also argue that their buying the meat where they do, they are showing how meaningless these idol cults.  Jesus only is the Lord, and there is nothing to these idols to make us either fear them or ask favours of them.  Their rituals are so meaningless that any meat offered to them is still just that – charred meat.

 

To which Paul says, you’re both right; you both bring something good to the table.  And you’re both wrong when you think what you bring is the whole story, and you don’t see the other’s rightness as well.  What he sees is that both sides in this skirmish are serving the Lord as they know how within the perspective of their faith and life, because the Lord has different ways for each of us to serve him given who we are and what we bring to the table. 

 

Which means it’s not just a matter of simple tolerance, which is the way this passage is often mistakenly interpreted today.  It’s not just a matter of not really caring about what the other does, and brings to the table.  Of thinking it’s just a matter of personal opinion and taste.

 

Rather, it’s a matter of discerning what there is of God, of Jesus, and of honest faith and faithfulness in the one who is other and different from you.  Because Jesus gathers all kinds of servants into his household and makes them all part of his body not only in spite of their different ways of doing  things, but because of their different ways of doing things, so that the work of God’s kingdom can be done in the world in as many ways, and reach as many people, and have as wide an impact on the world, and change as many lives as possible.

 



This is a lesson with wide applications in the world today.  One commentator on this passage – I wish I could find his name, but I can’t, has written:

 

How many of us despise and judge others?  I know I despise those in the religious right.  Their views are wrong, immoral, un-Christ-like, and based on lies about the Bible and what it says.  Sorry for being so forthright.  That’s just my opinion.  My articles, including this one, support my views.

 

And I’m sure conservative Christians judge me, too.  I often hear from them, for example, that we who do not accept orthodoxy and “real truth” simply do not want to obey God.  They say we go against God’s laws.  That I and others like me make light of God’s commandments, and are not strong warriors for God.

 

Many Christians, he concludes [and he doesn’t say so, but by the tone of his own voice, he is also in this group], become angry if you even imply anything different from what they already believe.

 

Is that not a good description not only of the church at times, but of what all society has become today?  More and more don’t we lament that society has become an uneasy chaos of conflicting groups of people who find it harder and harder to accept one another, to talk about anything, let alone work together to do something good for all. 

 

And just to say we need to tolerate one another is not enough.  The message of “just let them be; live and let live; just go your own way, they’re just different and it’s their right to be so."  Like all those Facebook memes that tell us "life is too short for us to put up with people who bring us down"; and "if they don't bring you joy, just write them out of your life story, you go your way and let them go theirs" -- advice that has just enough that's right, that it hooks us, but so much that's wrong, that it leads us wrong.  As life advice it helps widens the gap between groups, and justifies us not really learning how to work together.

 

The way forward is not to choose not to care what the other does, and let go of them as brothers and sisters.  Rather, it’s to discern what there is of God, of truth, of Jesus, and of honest faithfulness in the one who is other and different from you.  Because, Paul reminds us, God gathers all kinds of servants into his service not in spite of their different ways of doing things (as though differences are a problem), but because of their different ways of doing things, so that the work of God’s kingdom can be done in the world in as many ways, and reach as many people, and have as wide an impact on the world, and change as many lives as possible.

 

This week I came across an old rabbinic story, that maybe you have heard before. 

 

The story is told of a monastery that had fallen upon hard times. Once it was a great order, but over the generations all its branch houses were lost and there were only five monks left in the decaying mother house: the abbot and four others, all over seventy in age. Clearly it was a dying order.

 

In the woods surrounding the monastery there was a little cabin that a rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used as a retreat. The old monks could always sense when the rabbi was visiting the cabin. "The rabbi is in the woods, the rabbi is in the woods again," they would whisper to each other. As he agonized over the imminent death of his order, the abbot decided to visit the rabbi and ask for any advice that might save the monastery.

 

The rabbi welcomed the abbot at his hut. But when the abbot explained the purpose of this visit, the rabbi could only commiserate with him. "Yes. I know how it is," he exclaimed. "The spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore." So, the old abbot and the old rabbi wept together. Then they read parts of the Torah and quietly spoke of deep things. When the time came for the abbot to leave, they embraced one another. "It has been a wonderful thing that we have talked after all these years," the abbot said. "But is there nothing you can tell me, no piece of advice you can give me that would help me save my dying order?"

 

"No, I am sorry," the rabbi responded, "I have no advice to give you." But then the rabbi paused and said quietly to the abbot, "But, there is one thing I have to tell you: One of you is the Messiah."

 

When the abbot returned to the monastery his fellow monks gathered around him and asked, "Well, what did the rabbi say?"

 

"He couldn't help," the abbot answered. "We just wept and read the Torah together. The only thing he did say, just as I was leaving—he said that one of us was the Messiah! Maybe it's something from Jewish mysticism. I don't know what he meant."

 

In the days and weeks and months that followed, the old monks began to think about this and wondered whether the rabbi's words could actually be true? The Messiah is one of us? Could he possibly have meant one of us monks here at the monastery? If that's the case, who is it?

 

Do you suppose he meant the abbot? Yes, if he meant anyone he probably meant Father Abbot. He has been our leader for more than a generation.

 

On the other hand, he might have meant that Brother Thomas is a holy man. Everyone knows that Thomas is a man of light.

 

Certainly he couldn't have meant Brother Jonathan! Jonathan gets crotchety at times. But come to think of it, even though he is a thorn in people's sides, when you look back on it, Jonathan is virtually always right, often very right.

 

Maybe the rabbi did mean Brother Jonathan, but surely not Brother Philip. Philip is so passive, a real nobody. But then almost mysteriously he has a gift for somehow always being there when you need him. He just magically appears by your side. Could Philip be the Messiah?

 

Of course, the rabbi didn't mean me. He couldn't possibly have meant me. I'm just an ordinary person. Yet supposing he did? Suppose I am the Messiah? Oh God, me?

 

As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one of them might actually be the Messiah. And on the off, off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

 

Because the monastery was situated in a beautiful forest, it so happened that people occasionally came to visit the monastery to picnic on its tiny lawn, to wander along some of its paths, even now and then to go into the dilapidated chapel to meditate. And as they did so, without even being conscious of it, they sensed this aura of extraordinary respect that now began to surround the five old monks and seemed to radiate out from them and permeate the atmosphere of the place. There was something strangely attractive, even compelling, about it. Hardly knowing why, people began to come back to the monastery more frequently to picnic, to play, to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought their friends.

 

Then it happened that some of the younger men who came to visit the monastery started to talk more and more with the old monks. After a while one asked if he could join them. Then another. And another. And it happened that within a few years the monastery had once again become a thriving order and, thanks to the rabbi's gift, a vibrant center of light and spirit.

 

So how do we find our way?  How do we not trip and stumble and fall into disarray over the differences among us?

 

I wonder if learning to ask two simple sets of questions might be helpful that at least can guide us in our relationships within the church and other people of faith.  How they apply in the world at large may need to be adjusted a bit.  But I’ll end with them:

 

 ·        How do I show my faith in God, and my love for, and commitment to Jesus and the way of Jesus in my life?  In my home, my family, and my intimate relations?  With my friends and in the community?  At work, at play, in the way I live, and the way I will die?  And how do I nurture it?  Where and how do I go to be fed, to keep growing in faithfulness?  Do I know how really important my ways of serving God and following Jesus are? 

 ·        How do I see faith in God, and love for and commitment to Jesus and the way of Jesus in the lives of people who live differently from me?  With different kinds of home life, families and intimate relations?  With different sorts of friends and community involvements?  Different kinds of work and play, of living and of dying?  Do I know how important other peoples’ ways of serving God and following Jesus are?  And how can I help ensure they have places and resources to be nurtured and fed in their faith?  Can I even be of some help in supporting their faith and their way of faithfulness to God’s kingdom?

 

Because are we not meant to be able to help one another grow in our different lives of faith and of faithful service, no matter how different they are?

1 comment:

  1. Well articulated. The lesson I'm working on is seeing the godliness in that smuchately I am to deal with and learn of the wisdom that they have while I deal with the problem abrasing us. To help with that, my prayer is "Ok Holy Spirit what do you have me to learn in this to grow on" Trouble is, then I gotta listen for Her answer.

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