Sermons

“Servant Citizenship”

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7; Mark 10:35-45 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – October 28, 2018

 Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that our hearts might be transformed by the humble compassion of Christ and our lives poured out in service. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

For those of you who are concerned, let me clarify before we really begin: I am going to preach about politics this morning. If that’s going to upset you, you could leave now, but I always figure it makes more sense to wait and see what I say first; it’s possible you’ll agree with me.  It might not be as bad as it sounds; I’m not going to be talking about a political issue, per se, but rather the Christian relationship to politics, our obligation as followers of Jesus to be involved in the communities and society in which we find ourselves.  The word “politics”, of course, comes from the Greek “polis” or city, which points us directly toward the passage we read from Jeremiah.  “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile,” God says to the Hebrew exiles, through the prophet’s letter, “for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”

On the one hand, we could say that’s a clear mandate and rationale for active involvement in improving our communities and leave it at that.  On the other hand, perhaps there is a little more we could unpack.  How do we, as Christians, relate to the idea of exile? My guess is that most of simply don’t much.  Exile is not a particularly relatable concept for those of us who have had the freedom to live where we want to live, in a culture that is more or less our own.  But there is a strain throughout Christian history, including in this country, of imagining the Christian life as one lived in exile: since we are “citizens of heaven” not of this world, we are never truly at home while we’re on earth.  Christian thinkers have called followers of Jesus to be “in the world, but not of the world”.  But interpretations of that have varied widely, as you might imagine, from the extremes of the Amish non-participation in American culture to the less noticeable choice not to vote that some Christians in decades past made.

Where does this idea that Christians should distance themselves from society come from?  In a sense from the history of exile in the Bible.  Often, when the Hebrew people were in exile, it was a time of peril, when they were likely to be tempted to worship foreign gods, and so their leaders and prophets promoted a level of separation and insularity. This was often combined with a promise that the exile would be over soon, so there wouldn’t be any sense in getting too acclimated.  But Jeremiah’s word is something different.  You might as well settle in, he writes to them, because you’re going to be there a while.  Build houses. Plant gardens.  Multiply.  Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you.  Honestly, this understanding of exile is a better description of our current situation than a warning not to get too involved because our time here is only temporary.  We’re going to be here a while.

So if we can accept this biblical mandate to get involved in the flourishing of our communities, then what?  Does that demand political participation?  Well, again, that depends on how you define politics. If we consider politics to be the “affairs of the city, the polis”, then yes, we are called to be part of that. That may not be what you normally think of when you hear the word “politics” but if we want to live as a people of hope, we may want to find a different definition of the word than is normally used in our cynical society.  The late senator from Minnesota, professor at my alma mater and good Jew, Paul Wellstone, who was killed 16 years ago this week in a plane crash, suggested this redemptive understanding of politics: “Politics is not about money or power games, or winning for the sake of winning.  Politics is about the improvement of people’s lives, the lessening of human suffering, advancing the cause of peace and justice in our country and in the world.”  That certainly sounds like something followers of Jesus should be involved in, doesn’t it?

And sure, if you wanted, we could have the argument about how churches can do this through their own private, charitable means. But if you look at the statistics that show charitable giving versus government resources, or if you just spend a few moments contemplating our own congregational finances, you quickly come to realize that unless we do this together – as the people, by the people, for the people – we don’t even have a chance of noticeably “lessening the human suffering” of our neighbors.

Maybe you’re convinced.  Maybe you’re not.  But I want to move on because my next point is more important.  If we grant that Christians are to be involved, politically, in our communities and our country, what does that look like?  This is what really matters.  Maybe, like Tabitha Isner or Nicki Arnold-Swindle, Disciples pastors in Alabama, it means you run for office.  But for most of us, it’s not about leadership so much as it is about citizenship.  Fortunately, Jesus’ lessons about leadership apply just as well to citizens as they do to leaders.  So let’s take a look at that passage I read from Mark.

My first impulse as I’m reading about James and John is to say, “Who talks like this to Jesus?!”  “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”  Really?  Did you say that out loud?  To Jesus? You call him teacher, but it sounds like you consider him some kind of heavenly concierge service.  Seriously, who talks like to this Jesus?  But then I consider that question a little more honestly, and I realize how self-incriminating the answer is.  The truth is we all talk to Jesus like this.  We do want Jesus to do whatever we ask of him.  This short little story and the lesson that comes after it illustrate one of the biggest hurdles most of us have with following Jesus. It’s that “not my will but Thine be done” thing.  It’s that getting stuck on Jesus pouring his life out so we can have life abundant without recognizing our call to similarly pour our lives out for others thing. What does this look like when applied to our conduct as citizens?  Something like “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”  We might want to pay attention to the fact that these wise quotes about faithful political participation are coming from religious minorities seen as suspicious by some.  Because let’s be clear, religious involvement in politics does not always turn out well.

We sang earlier about being salt and light, a reference to Jesus teaching us to be present in the world in ways that make a difference.  The other metaphor from that teaching is about being a “city on a hill”.  This was used by Puritan lay preacher John Winthrop to illustrate just how different the Massachusetts Bay Colony would be. Sadly, too often, when Christians have tried to make the world different, we’ve done it by trying to change everyone else to be exactly like us.  We know that isn’t what salt does, or what light does, but we go on ahead, when given the opportunity, and try to shape our society to our liking, without remembering to check in with God’s vision for the world.

If you take anything home with you from these meanderings on faith politics today, let it be this:  We can only faithfully seek the welfare of our cities from a posture of humility.  Only when we do it from a spirit of service, a spirit of sacrificial compassion, a spirit of respecting the rich diversity of God’s creation, a spirit that recognizes that we alone do not have all the answers, can we follow Jesus with our politics. To my mind, this is why we should never attempt to engage politics without first engaging our faith, because what other practice is going to remind us of our human weakness and mortality, while simultaneously empowering us to do justice and love mercy?

Jesus almost seemed to be referring to his call to be salt and light that make a difference when he was chastising the disciples after James and John’s display of conceit.  “You see that the world is this way, but you are to live differently. Do not be about power and status and domination.  Be about service and sacrifice for that is what leads to redemption.”  Isn’t it funny how his description of the leaders of the Gentiles sounds so contemporary?  There is much about those first-century circumstances that is familiar. And yet, there are some vital differences that we must attend to.  When Jesus was talking to his disciples about being servant leaders, he wasn’t suggesting that’s what they should do when they got their turn at being in charge of society.  None of those disciples were going to replace Herod.  They were living under imperial occupation.  We live in what we hopefully still claim to call a democracy.  We have political agency those disciples would never have dreamed of.  We have a level of self-determination they would barely have understood.

Here is the other main thing I want us to understand about politics and faith today: democracy is a gift like any other that God calls us to be faithful stewards of.  Just like our families and our congregation and the oceans, democracy cannot be taken for granted.  If we are going to be faithful followers of Jesus, seeking the welfare of the city and country where God has sent us, we must embrace our call to be stewards of democracy, for it is one of our best tools for “promoting the general welfare”. You might think this sermon is happening today because I want to encourage you to vote on November 6^th(or sooner).  And that’s certainly part of it.  But democracy isn’t just voting.  We know what is required for democracy to flourish:  a free press, an educated citizenry, income equality sufficient to allow all people the time and resources to engage in our civic conversations.

Following Jesus calls us to be involved in our politics in ways that make a difference.  We are called to counter de-humanization whenever we see it, whether of religious or racial minorities or of political adversaries.  We are called to speak out against political violence and intimidation.  We do this because our faith teaches us that everyone, each and every person in our country is a beloved child of God.  We do it because Jesus calls us to make a difference.  We do it because Jesus showed us what it means to lay down or pour out our lives for others.  We do it because we are called to be good stewards of the gift of democracy, a privilege most followers of Jesus throughout history have not had.

A final word about how our faith and our politics intertwine.  The biggest barrier to people getting involved in politics these days is not that they’re too focused on heaven; it’s that they’ve been caught in the traps of apathy and cynicism.  We must bring our faith into the world of politics, because that is how we access hope. And without hope, politics becomes absurd.  Let us close today with some more wise words from a Jewish scholar, reflecting on the Talmud: “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief.  Do justly, now.  Love mercy, now.  Walk humbly, now.  You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” May we carry the hope and humility of Jesus with us, as we continue seeking together the welfare of the city where God has sent us.  Alleluia and Amen.