SERMON – LENT IV

SUNDAY, MARCH 10, 2002

CHURCH OF THE REDEEMER

Sermons for the five Sundays of Lent this year share the common theme of “the Ministry of the Baptized” as found both in the laity and the ordained members of the Body of Christ.  Baptismal vows reflect the constant theme of ministry found in the New Testament.  Without a pervasive sense of our ministerial obligation to one another and the world we are but another cult or useless social club.  Jesus Christ remains the sole and perfects model for our ministry, the full illustration of how we are to live our lives as his disciples.  Ministry has often been thought of as a full-time profession; that is what we clergy do, and we are paid for it.  Lay persons, as well as some clergy, carry on their ministry while following other pursuits and professions.  Thus, the great majority of ministers are like you out there much more than me up here.  Luther spoke of “the priesthood of all believers”, a significant contribution of reformation theology.  If, rightly, Jesus models ministry for us, then we first need to look to him for the best definition of Christian ministry. 

Surely one of the most striking aspects of the ministry of Jesus Christ is to be found in his acts of healing, often miraculous, constantly sought after, and interpreted as strong signs of his identity as Son of God and Messiah.  The man born blind and healed by Jesus says to those who question him, “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind.  If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” (John 9:32-33)  The Gospel for this Sunday tells a particularly interesting healing story.  It offers us not only insight into the power of Christ but also a look into the world of first century thinking.  By this I mean the question posed to Jesus by the disciples, “’Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’” (John 9:2)   Here we find the bothersome opinion that illness and suffering result from human sin, the idea that disease of whatever sort is a punishment from God.  We would like to think that this cause and effect formula is from the primitive past, the residue of an age more superstitious than our own.  Yet I have encountered such simplistic causality in our own time.  Desperate and ready to take onto himself or herself the suffering of a child, a parent may well assume that the child’s situation results from that parent’s failure to obey God’s rules.  In our time such thinking is more emotional than rational, but then again, suffering rarely invites logical response. 

Jesus dismisses the illness-caused-by-sin formula at once.   He insists that the man was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in that same blind man.  Jesus undercuts the superstitious point of view with a very challenging suggestion, namely that God lets things happen so that people will experience God’s power and thus be part of a greater revelation of truth.  Only Jesus can offer such an explanation, it seems to me, for only Jesus can know the mind of God.   As a pastor I would not presume such an explanation any more than I would subscribe to the sin leads to suffering theory.  Jesus’ explanation is as ringed with divinity as his miraculous healings are. 

The ministry of Jesus in the three brief years chronicled in the Gospels certainly does not stop with healings.  His ministry also includes teaching, particularly in his reinterpretation of the solemn laws of Moses, the very core of Jewish life and morality.  He makes himself available to all sorts of people, some less desirable in the eyes of the world than others.  Furthermore, he; engages in debate, a form of teaching, with those who find his words and actions offensive, even blasphemous.  In describing himself in today’s Gospel as the Light of the World, Jesus tells the truth, for he does bring light and clarity to the various situations that confront him.  He offers protection to those who are outcast by society.  Obedient to the will of the Father God, he submits to the terrible humiliation and suffering of the cross.  Both king and suffering servant, Jesus in his earthly life provides the ultimate example for ministry.  Jesus would surely establish the Carpenter’s Boatshop and welcome in all kinds of people lost for a period of their lives, seeking direction and purpose.  Jesus would found and bless the Epiphany School for its attention to human need as well as academic excellence.  (Parenthetically, Jesus would have sad feelings and harsh words for those who prey upon innocent children and hide behind the shaky walls of forced celibacy.) 

Lay ministers and ordained ministries spring from the same waters of baptism.  The vow of the baptized to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ traces its origins to the very kind of story we heard today, the restoration of sight to a person born blind, a new way of seeing life.  The imperative to strive for justice and peace among all people and to respect the dignity of every human being virtually echoes the words of Jesus and the power of his own human ministry. 

What is it that prompts a person to reach out and serve others, to include those who do not conform, to welcome the handicapped and destitute?  From what deep well of love and understanding do the tolerance and listening of exploring minds and kind neighbors come?  Where do we find the seeds of ecumenism, dialogue, reform, and new chances?  Where do we learn about compassion, generosity, decency, and respect?  From the stories of the ministry of Jesus and from those who for two thousand years have chosen him as their mentor.  We sell Jesus short if we relegate him only in the luster of stained glass or petty rules.  And we sully his memory and mock his sacrifice through our own superficial attention to the deep promises made at our baptisms, confirmation, ordinations, and weddings.  A thorough reading of the words we say at such times will pull us away from the kind of pale Christianity all too many of Christ’s children practice, driving us into the fray of life and the power of ministry entrusted to all of us, lay or ordained. 

Sometimes when I wear my collar strangers, like bus drivers, ask me expectantly to pray for them as if I had a special channel open only to people who wear clerical garb.  The prayers of the priest or the bus driver are equal in the eyes and ears of God, I am sure.  Ordination does not lead to holiness or Christ-like behavior in and of itself.  Wearing black shirts and white collars or splendid vestments does not a disciple make.  Such conversions in individuals arise from the heart and mind linked to Jesus and his ministry, never to symbols or titles or any presumed spiritual grandeur.  A friend sent me a service leaflet from a church he had visited.  The leaflet noted the names of the clergy and then under the word MINISTERS was written “the people of this parish”.  To know who all our ministers are, look in the annual directory.  Those people listed there, adults and children as well, uphold the ministry of Christ in this place.  Nobody is exempt.  The burden of ministry calls for shared responsibility.  It would be impossible to have a “Ministry Committee” here, save as a committee of the whole. 

I would return to the image of the ministry of healing, the ministry of restoring sight.  A real part of ministry IS restoration of sight, of understanding, of changing points of view.  At its heart our ministry is humane and modest, divine and lasting.  Ministry serves others, not the individual minister.  That is why hypocrisy spoils true ministry.  When we work to decrease insensitivity, prejudice, self-interest, and spiritual blindness, we begin a ministry of healing.  As we pray, study, volunteer, reach out to strangers, and worship enthusiastically, we promote restoration and harmony.  Each of us has something of the man born blind in us.  So too each of us has something of the Christ in us as well.  Our vocation to ministry finds its most fertile ground when the blindness and the Christ-ness  blend together. 

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world”, and our vocation is to reflect that light.  Addressing the Christians in Ephesus, Paul wrote, “Once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.  Live as children of light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true.”  Our shared ministry is of the light, with the Light of the World showing each of us the way.   Christ’s Lent lessons point us to the practice of our ministry, blessed by and spreading the light of the Rabbi who restored sight to the blind and bade us follow him.  AMEN. 

                                                                                    The Rev. Richard H. Downes

Return to sermon page