John
3:16-21
Romans
4:16-25
October
22, 2017
William G. Carter
“For God so loved the world that he gave his
only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have
eternal life.”
For this reason it
depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed
to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those
who share the faith of Abraham (for he is the father of all of us, as it is
written, “I have made you the father of many nations”) —in the presence of the
God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence
the things that do not exist. Hoping against hope, he believed that he
would become “the father of many nations,” according to what was said, “So
numerous shall your descendants be.” He did not weaken in faith when he
considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a
hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s
womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he
grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced
that God was able to do what he had promised. Therefore his faith “was
reckoned to him as righteousness.”
Now the words, “it was
reckoned to him,” were written not for his sake alone, but for ours also.
It will be reckoned to us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the
dead, who was handed over to death for our trespasses and was raised for
our justification.
If we’re going to
celebrate the Protestant Reformation, sooner or later we have to talk about
faith. That’s where the revolution occurred.
Sooner or later, the Christians
will rediscover their Bible; they always have the Bible, and it’s there that
Christians discover that “God so loved the world that he sent Jesus to save it.”
That’s the heart of the Christian Gospel.
Sooner or later, the Christians
will be reawakened to the reality of God’s grace. God saves us because God
loves us. We don’t have to earn the love. We don’t have to bargain for it. We
don’t have to prove that we are worthy of it. God is in favor of us; that’s the
grace.
And sooner or later,
we have the invitation to faith. Faith is the way we access the grace. Faith is
how we confirm that God is all about the salvage operation that is called “salvation.”
So today, let’s talk about faith, particularly the faith that is sufficient to
save us.
Now, no sooner do we
bring this up, then somebody will say, “You know, I don’t know if I have enough
faith.” And that’s a legitimate concern.
Stand outside the
hospital room, having heard that your loved one’s disease is incurable, it’s
hard to imagine that you will ever have enough faith.
Watch the news, see
the possibility of widespread disease after a hurricane in Puerto Rico, and you
doubt that things are going to go well for those people.
Sometimes life is too
hard, for us or for somebody else, and some gentle soul will say, “But the
Bible says, ‘God will never give you more than you can handle.’” And you doubt
that is true. Actually, I think God can give us more than we can handle, and
that oft-quoted verse from 1 Corinthians 10 is taken out of context. It’s about
temptation, not trouble. Sometimes there’s an overwhelming amount of trouble,
and we’re not sure we have enough faith.
Here is where old
Martin Luther can be helpful. When life gave him a lot of trouble (and we’re
talking about a man who had to run for his life), here’s what Luther would do.
He would stop in his tracks, pound his chest, and declare defiantly, “But I’m
baptized!”
You see, baptism for
him was not a once-done, now forgotten ritual. It wasn’t a social event with smiles
and photographs. Baptism was a statement of his identity. “I am baptized. I
belong to God. That’s who I am! So don’t you forget it, God!” That’s how he
coped with trouble.
For him, first of all,
faith has to do with our identity as the beloved children of God. You didn’t
choose God, God chose you. You got a complaint with God? Take it up with your
heavenly parent!
But what if I doubt
that God is there? Or what if I think there’s a God somewhere, but he doesn’t
seem to be as good as everybody says he is?
Again, here is Luther’s
answer: listen to the Gospel. Listen to it! Listen to the news that you are
never forgotten, that the God who claims you in baptism is the God who hears
your cry, the same God who is committed to your well-being, the God who sends
Jesus Christ to rescue you. Listen to that, and trust it. That’s faith.
Faith is not something
you are born with. Faith is not something you get. Faith is not something you
store up. Faith is something
that God gives you when you hear the Good News. Listen to how much God loves
you, and when the Spirit of God comes into our hearts and minds, that’s faith.
That’s all faith is: simple trust, as a gift of God, as a response to Gospel.
The news is so good –
that you are saved by God’s grace – that all you have to “do” is trust it. This
trust is the essence of faith.
Now this was
revolutionary. The medieval church had added so many layers of obligation that
the average Christian believer was never going to win its approval. In
declaring that God is holy, the church of Luther’s day emphasized the great
distance between the holy God and all the regular old slobs of the human race.
There was nothing a person could do to bridge that gap.
Some thought, “If I
act like a good person, that could help.” But nobody could ever be that good.
If any of us are ever going to make it into God’s heavenly presence, all our
sins and imperfections must be purged away. This purging, long a popular
belief, was twisted into a notion called “purgatory,” kind of an overtime
period after we die when every sinner is punished for a very long time until
they are ready for heaven. And the power of the medieval papacy reinforced it.
But then Luther
started reading the Bible, really reading it. He gets to the 4th
chapter of Romans where Paul reflects on the faith of Father Abraham: he believed
the promises of God, and “it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” The reckoning
is God’s reckoning. God sees that Abraham trusts him, and that is sufficient.
It was like a
lightning bolt in Luther’s soul. You mean we don’t have beat ourselves up or
wear ourselves out? No! You mean we don’t move from a hard life of suffering to
an afterlife of more suffering, simply because we are creatures. No! You mean
that the church and its hierarchy has no say over whether or not God will
accept me, love me, or save me? No!
Faith in this good
news is all you need. It’s all anybody needs.
This was
revolutionary! What about all those rituals that the priests are putting us
through? Not necessary. What about the requirements laid upon me so that I can prove
that we are acceptable to the church. Totally invented by humans, not by God.
Do you mean I don’t have to fulfill the rituals and rules, in order to be
approved by the priest in order to be approved by God? No. All we need is
faith, the kind of faith that trusts that God loves the world enough to send
Jesus.
It’s no wonder, then,
that Luther loved to celebrate Christmas, if only because Christmas is all
about God’s gift. In a Christmas Day sermon in 1530, he stood up and talked
about the shepherds. They are the lowly ones, the ones outside of the
structures of religion, the simple ones who are taking care of their flock and
unable to atone for their sins. Suddenly the angels appear to them to say, “I
bring you good news of a great joy, for to you is born this day the Savior.”
Luther says:
Who, then, are those to whom
this joyful news is to be proclaimed? Those who are faint-hearted and
feel the burden of their sins, like the shepherds, to whom the angels proclaim
the message, letting the great lords in Jerusalem, who do not accept it, go on
sleeping.
… Nothing else should be
preached except that this child is the Savior and far better than heaven and
earth. Him, therefore, we should acknowledge and accept; confess him as
our Savior in every need, call upon him, and never doubt that he will save us
from all misfortune.[1]
“For this reason,”
says the apostle Paul, “it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest
on grace.” Indeed, it does depend on faith, trusting in God to bear us in all
circumstances, to save us from our own destructive impulses, and ultimately to
carry us home. We have to hang on and trust, no matter what.
Dick Armstrong, one of
my teachers, described faith as a roller coaster ride. In fact, he put it in a
poem:
Faith is a roller-coaster ride for clergy, clerks, and clowns.
The best disciples, old and new, have had their ups and downs.
The psalmist and the prophet had their moments of despair,
And even Jesus on the cross had doubts that God was there.
When faith is riding on the ridge, it shows in word and deed,
For mountains move is faith is but a grain of mustard seed.
It’s not that we make miracles by willing to believe.
Faith’s not a work, but God’s free gift, that we by grace
receive.
That thought should keep us humble, when we’re feeling strong
and tall.
The higher up the heights we climb, the farther we can fall!
For just as winter follows fall, and nighttime follows day,
We do not always sail the crest nor on the summit stay.
But sometimes plummet down the steps wth such breathtaking
speed,
That roller-coaster riders should this warning hear and heed.
Yet when the coast car is at the bottom of the slope,
The peaks of faith loom large and give new impetus to home.
Then we recall those moments when our faith in God was sure.
Confirmed by Truth, sustained by Love, we find we can endure
The ups and downs of faith. Indeed we then can say,
Without the lows there’d be no highs, without the night, no day.
The ride is always risky, even scary, I’ll agree.
But if we stay inside the car of faith, we’re safe. You see,
The roller-coaster Maker is the One who takes the toll.
The car won’t ever leave the track if God is in control.
So re: roller-coaster ride, I’ll take my own advice,
And hang on tight until the end, no matter what the price.
For when the ride is over, and the ups and downs are through,
I pray I’ll be with God – and all the other riders, too![2]
Hang on, friends. Don’t
let go of the God who has already taken hold of you.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
[1] Martin Luther, “Sermon on the Afternoon of Christmas Day,” December 25,
1530. Online at http://mail.mcm.edu/~eppleyd/Luther2.html
[2] Richard Stoll Armstrong, The Pastor as Evangelist (Louisville:
Westminster Press, 1984) pp. 74-75
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