“What Kind of Authority?”
Mark 1.21–28 The Rev. Hal Chorpenning Plymouth Cong’l UCC, Fort Collins 28 January 2024 People my age and younger – and some of you older Baby Boomers, too – have a knee-jerk reaction to the word “authority” …and with good reason. Part of that is a result of the liberation movements of the 1960s and 70s: women’s liberation, gay liberation, black power, and the anti-war movement. It was the era of flower children and the counter-culture. And though there are certainly enduring legacies of that era, the people who populated those movements tended to become yuppies who cared more for their brokerage accounts than for free love, preserving the planet, and working for peace. (And please remember that there is still a lot of work to do in a nation where women still earn 82 cents on the dollar compared to their male counterparts in the same jobs.) Some things have changed, to be sure, but we are being forced by the political realities in which we live, to look at what ultimately matters most. Having been sexually harassed by a female superior – in a position of authority – when I worked at Stanford University in my 20s, I can in some ways – though not all – understand what abuse of power and authority looks like. But what about legitimate authority used responsibly? Jesus didn’t have huge rabbinic authority when he went into the synagogue to preach and heal. His sense of authority was not “power to enforce obedience or compliance,” but rather power to influence the beliefs, actions, and lives of people. His hearers afforded him authority because of his abilities, healing, and wisdom. Even though you may think that one of the hallmarks of the Feminist movement is opposing authority in all its forms, some feminist philosophers are beginning to shift that idea. Rebecca Hanrahan and Louise Antony write, “Feminism is an antiauthoritarian movement that has sought to unmask many traditional ‘authorities’ as ungrounded. Given this, it might seem as if feminists are required to abandon the concept of authority altogether. But…the exercise of authority enables us to coordinate our efforts to achieve larger social goods and, hence, should be preserved. Instead, what is needed and what we provide for here is a way to distinguish legitimate authority from objectionable authoritarianism.”[1] And God knows we are hearing a lot of objectionable authoritarianism — if not downright fascism — from certain corners of the American political arena, fueled in part by Christian Nationalism. And still, there needs to be a dialogue between freedom and authority. We need to examine to whom or to what in our own lives we give authority to, what we pledge our allegiance to, and whether that is legitimate or not. And if we find that our prior assumptions about the sources of authority miss the mark, we need to make adjustments. We all afford or give over some of our authority to people or forces in this world, and it is time for some deep re-appraisal. *** Let me pose an ethical question for you to consider: What is the dominant influence in your decision-making? Is it your political persuasion? Your socio-economic class? Your race? Your gender? Your nationality? Your relative affluence? Your sexual orientation? Your economic self-interest? Your role as a parent or child? Your sense of pleasure? … Or is it your faith? Let me come at this from a slightly different angle: In whom do you put your ultimate trust? When push comes to shove, where do you assign your trust…if you can trust anyone? Is it to your doctor? Your stockbroker? Your therapist? Your personal trainer? Your spouse or partner? Your employer? Your president? Your minister? When you are on your deathbed, who do you want to be there with you…God or Jerome Powell? Let me ask the question yet a third way: Whom do you serve? Is it your CitiCard balance? Your kids’ activities and chauffeuring them around town? Your student loan debt? Your employer? Your spouse or partner? Your family? Yourself? Your God? All of these questions point toward the A-word…authority. Who or what is authoritative in your life? And I know a lot of us could quip, “It’s the economy, stupid.” But there is nothing in this or any economy that is going to help you lead a truly good life and keep you from death and lead you into life beyond death. If we don’t give authority to God, then we give it to the range of petty deities of our culture. The anti-institutional thrust of the 1960s and 70s taught us to trust no one, especially if they were “over 30” or in a position of authority, and so we find our nation in a state of radical individualism, caring little for the common good or the larger consequences, but I think that’s beginning to change. The pendulum, at least for some of us, has begun to swing in the direction of collective responsibility. “What is this? A new teaching – with authority!” You and I have a lot of advantages in considering the questions I’ve posed. We are part of a 400-year-old religious tradition that has diminished the human authority of bishops and popes and kings and put the authority back where it belongs: with God. It isn’t that Marta and I don’t have pastoral authority, we do, and you’ve entrusted that authority to us, never to be abused. But we firmly believe that we are not gatekeepers that come between you and God. (We can, however, coach you from the sidelines.) You have direct access to the source of ultimate authority. One of the great Christian ethicists of the 20th century, H. Richard Niebuhr, who wrote, “To make our decisions in faith … is to make them in view of the fact that the world of culture – human achievement – exists within the world of grace – God’s kingdom.”[2] That bears repeating: “To make our decisions in faith … is to make them in view of the fact that the world of culture – human achievement – exists within the world of grace – God’s kingdom.” So, if Niebuhr is correct, everything we do, think, say, act, feel, own, profess, is done within the context of God’s reign. And God’s kingdom is an anti-imperial reign in which the first shall be last and the last shall be first, where faith the size of a mustard seed will grow to an enormous size, where the rich “shall be sent empty away” because they have had their consolation. *** Now, this may scare a few people away from a new members class, but our membership covenant contains these words: “I give myself unreservedly to God’s service.” How many of you have entered that covenant as members? So, when each of us who are members of this particular congregation entered the covenant, we made a solemn vow to place ourselves under the authority of God – with nothing held back. So, how are you doing with that commitment? None of us does it perfectly! God is ultimately in charge, whether we acknowledge it or not. And when we covenant to give ourselves unreserved to God’s service, we are saying explicitly whose authority we are under. We find ourselves at the beginning of an election year, as well as in a time of national political crisis, exacerbated by the “gift” of social media and the 24-hour news cycle. And it is precisely at such a time as this, that it is good to have a sense of clarity that we are God’s people, and nothing can separate us from the love of God. So, here is where the profound dialogue between authority and liberation meet: When we give ourselves fully to God (and only a small handful of human beings I know of have ever done that completely) we free ourselves from every other master: powers and princes and presidents, success, wealth, fame, longevity…and even student loan debt. Aren’t you ready for that kind of liberation? When we share in Holy Communion, we feast at God’s table. And in a very tangible way, we acknowledge that we are utterly dependent upon God for everything that keeps us alive – body and soul. So, every time we celebrate communion…every time you come forward and receive the elements of bread and wine, I invite you to think carefully about whom you serve, and what ultimate authority you recognize in your life. May we be grounded in grace and in God’s service. Amen. © 2024 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal@plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses. [1] Rebecca Hanrahan, Louise Antony, “Because I Said So: Toward a Feminist Theory of Authority” in Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy 2005 20:4, 59-79 [2] H. Richard Niebuhr, Christ and Culture, p. 256.
“Midwinter Metanoia”
Mark 1.1-8 The Rev. Hal Chorpenning, Plymouth Congregational UCC Fort Collins, Colorado 10 December 2023 Every year on the second Sunday of Advent, we get a special guest appearance in the Lectionary from John the Baptizer, he who survived by eating locusts and wild honey and wore rough clothing made of camel hair. We tend to think of John as an offbeat character, and that’s probably about right. One of the things I noticed in studying images of John is that he seems so much more human than most of the other subjects. He has the look of world-weariness about him. Perhaps that happens when you find yourself in the wilderness shouting, “Repent! For the Kingdom of God has come near.” In the Gospel According to Matthew, and he adds insult to injury, calling the Sadducees and Pharisees a “brood of vipers,” a nest of poisonous reptilian offspring. Not generally a good way to win friends and influence people. Most of us probably don’t think of Advent as a penitential season, when we stop and enumerate our sins and make a plan to change course. But on this second Sunday of Advent, that is what John the Baptizer calls us to do. However, that language takes some serious unpacking, because for many of us the language of sin and repentance sounds more televangelist than we’re used to. And what’s more, it has caused injury to people who are not able to believe that God’s goodness lies within them. Still, it is important for 21st century liberal Christians not to dismiss traditional language out of hand; if we do that, we lose some of the richness and depth of our faith tradition and the wisdom it holds. Instead, we need to re-examine and redefine some of the language. Let’s start with sin. You may think of sin as wrongdoing, and sometimes it is. For the great 20th century theologian, Paul Tillich, sin is more about estrangement and separation. Adam and Eve become estranged from God, living east of Eden. We are living as exiles, cut off from our true home. And our true home is God. Marcus Borg writes, “Our estrangement can become hardened by how we live; we indulge our self-centeredness…. Estrangement, the birth of the separated self, is the natural result of growing up; it cannot be avoided. For the same reason, we develop closed hearts, a shell around the self. There is a sense in which we are blinded by the imprinting of culture on our psyches and perception.”[1] It happens to all of us. Let’s look at an Advent example of someone who has been “hardened by how he lives” and who “indulges in self-centeredness,” but who has a profound change of heart. [“How the Grinch Stole Christmas” clip.] Maybe you never thought about John the Baptizer when you watched “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” but it is as if there, on the crest of Mount Crumpet, the Grinch sees his estrangement from the Whos down in Whoville, and his hardened heart breaks open and grow three times its size. You never heard the word “repent” in the clip, but what you saw was a beautiful example of what repentance really means. “The biblical meaning of ‘repent’ is not primarily contrition, but resolve. In the Hebrew Bible, to repent means primarily to return to God. Its metaphorical home is the exile. To repent means to return from exile, to reconnect with God, to walk the way in the wilderness that leads from Babylon to God.”[2] As the Grinch returns to find community and love and meaning with the Whos down in Whoville, it is a homecoming that I’d imagine makes God smile. Repent is a scary word, especially because we usually think of it coming from the mouth of a fiery evangelist like Elmer Gantry, and it sure seems holier-than-thou in our context. But in biblical Greek, it’s actually a lovely, beautiful word that has a surplus of meaning. The word metanoia has two roots that connote going beyond the mind you currently have. And I would add that for me it means going beyond the mind and the HEART you currently have. Go beyond the mind and heart that have been shaped by self-interest. Go beyond the mind and heart that have been molded by American consumerism and greed. Go beyond and embrace the heart and mind of Jesus’ compassion and subversive wisdom. When John the Baptizer offers a “baptism of metanoia,” he is inviting people into the embodied process of transformed lives, going beyond the things that keep them in exile or in bondage. You know what that looks like…it isn’t easy. It certainly wasn’t for Ebenezer Scrooge! [Clip from “A Christmas Carol.”] I didn’t show you the visitations of the three spirits, because metanoia can be scary if you really embrace it. But you can use your memory to imagine the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and yet to come. What would those spirits show you from your past, present, and future? Charles Dickens described Scrooge as a “miserable old sinner,” and that isn’t what you saw in Patrick Stewart’s portrayal of the miser after his moment of metanoia. Scrooge has been separated not just from his family and the Cratchits, he has cut himself off from the whole human family and from God. But it isn’t too late for him, is it? Metanoia is a real possibility for each of us in our alienation and exile. Perhaps Advent is more preparing the way and tending to the rebirth of the spirit of Christ within each of us and in our church, rather than waiting for the birth of Jesus 2,000 years ago, or for the second coming. Who knows what new life may spring up afresh within any of us? And maybe the people sitting around you will be the midwives who encourage and help you in that rebirth. Where in your life are you feeling perhaps a bit estranged, cut off, or bound up? Simply acknowledging those pieces of your current mindset is the first step in rebirth or finding your way back home from exile. God is waiting for each of us to accept the invitation to renewal, rebirth, transformation, and wholeness. In our full humanity and our imperfection, God bids us come toward the light of the world and to midwinter metanoia. May it be so. Amen. © 2023 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal@plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses. [1] Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity. (SF: HarperSanFrancisco, 2003), p. 168. [2] Ibid., p. 180.
“The Roots of Righteousness”
Matthew 25.31-46 The Rev. Hal Chorpenning, Plymouth Congregational UCC Fort Collins, Colorado 26 November 2023 This section of scripture is a favorite among us UCC types and for other mainline Protestants who practice an engaged form of spirituality. And even among UCC congregations, I think that this congregation has a unique charism or gift in putting our faith into action. I could list any number of ways we together have gone about the business of feeding, clothing, sheltering people. The Homelessness Prevention Initiative, now part of Neighbor-to-Neighbor, had its beginnings at Plymouth when Sister Mary Alice Murphy approached us 20 years ago with the idea. We’ve built interfaith bridges and publicly advocated for those Jesus called “the least of these, who are members of my family.” What is even more important in the long run is the ways we are trying to affect social change so that charity isn’t needed. And there is a long, long way to go. In the meantime, we wind up doing both things: providing a hand up and also trying to change systems of oppression and injustice. Someone asked recently why we are sending money to the Our Church’s Wider Mission, which is the way we fund not only the conference and national setting of the United Church of Christ, but also where we fund international outreach and mission. From what I understood, the person asking the question suggested that we should be taking care of our own local community, rather than people whom we will never see, let alone meet. As a people who worship an invisible God, I think we should understand that seeing with our eyes isn’t everything. Just because you don’t SEE it happening doesn’t mean that it ISN’T happening. Globalization and technology move us beyond borders and boundaries. If you don’t have kids and you earn $60,000 a year, your income is in the top one percent globally. So, even if you don’t see kids at a preschool in Ethiopia or a girls’ school in Angola or a primary school in East Jerusalem, they are there and being supported by this congregation. Access to education changes lives and it changes systems. “Blessed are they who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Part of what I want to say this morning is “thank you.” The people who comprise this congregation have big hearts for mission and outreach. And much of what we do as a congregation doesn’t show up the ledger sheet of our budget, whether it is in the form of Share the Plate, the Mission Marketplace, preventing homelessness, or giving to a Special Offering of the UCC. The reading from Matthew’s gospel has an eschatological tone, which is a highfalutin theological term that relates to final things at the end of the age. Whenever you hear Matthew talk about “the Son of Man,” it denotes a piece of Jesus’ character related to the final chapter of human existence, the end of the age. If you believe in the Last Judgment or Hell, this passage might be motivating for you to act in a moral way in this life so that you will be rewarded in the next. Yet, I don’t see God or Jesus as a divine accountant, putting our deeds on one side of some “Eternal Ledger” or another, and allowing those who end life in the black to enter eternal life (they would be the sheep) and those in the red to be consigned to eternal torment (they would be the goats). If you interpret this piece of scripture more literally, that’s fine. As a pastor, I prefer not to use fear as a motivator to encourage leading a moral life. Orthopraxis is the twin sister of orthodoxy. You know that orthodoxy means holding the right opinion. And we don’t insist on uniformity of belief as a test of faithfulness in this congregation. Orthopraxis means right practice, especially in terms of religious faith. Depending on your religious tradition, orthopraxis might mean lighting candles at dinner on Friday evening and observing the sabbath on Saturday. Or it might mean making a pilgrimage to Mecca and abstaining from pork and alcohol. Or it might mean giving the hungry something to eat or the thirsty something to drink or the naked something to wear or visiting the sick or imprisoned or welcoming the stranger. I think we do have a fairly high bar of orthopraxis in our congregation around social justice issues. My only concern with that is that we don’t fall into the trap of thinking that our good works are all there is to leading a faithful life. We can get rather proud of taking action, and we sometimes set up an impossible standard of trying to save everyone everywhere. So, for the sake of argument, let’s say that you AREN’T going to be sent to hell in a handbasket because you have not been charitable in your actions. WHY are you engaging in those behaviors? If you don’t fear eternal punishment, why bother to meet the needs of your neighbor around the world or on your doorstep? Stop for a minute. Ask yourself WHY you are doing things like feeding, welcoming, visiting? Is it just because we are “good people” and that’s how “good people” behave? Is it because our politics drive us in the direction of ensuring the needs of the “least of these?” WHY are you doing something that is costly to you personally? Part of the reason I’m posing this question is because I have learned so much from people in this congregation about what it means to live a faithful life. This is a really small example, but a long time ago, maybe 18 years ago, I heard one of our members say that they parked further away from the door of the supermarket not so they would get in a few more steps to reach their 10,000-step goal, but because someone else might need a space closer to the door. WHY do people do such things that are inherently at odds with their self-interest? That’s countercultural. Here’s another example. A couple in our congregation retired and joined the Peace Corps, which is a cool thing in and of itself, and I was surprised that every year they were abroad, they still pledged their financial support of this congregation, even though they weren’t physical present to benefit from their membership. WHY did they do that? WHY were they acting in such a way that it diminished their financial self-interest? That’s countercultural. Here’s a third example. Last year, a young Palestinian man turned up on our doorstep needing help…with finding a home, with graduate enrollment at CSU, with his visa status, and more. The very first thing that happened when he walked into our doors on a Sunday morning is that Brooklyn and Mike McBride made him a nice, hot caffe latte, sat him down, and sought out Jane Anne to help. He had already been to the Islamic Center and four other Christian churches seeking help but was turned away. This being Plymouth, we found someone who has worked with international students at CSU, another who knew the social services offered in our community, and later a physician who provided immediate care and helped him navigate the US healthcare system. And they built bonds of friendship and relationship that are still intact. Later his wife and son joined him from Jordan, and as you heard last Sunday, Darwish and Aseel have a new daughter named Ayla. WHY are these Plymouth people doing these things? I also want to ask you to pose this question for yourself. I can’t answer that for you…that’s your job, and I hope you will grapple with it! I can answer it for myself. Part of my sense of faith and my orthopraxis is to try and follow the way of Jesus as best I can, even when I fail at it. To try and let the Holy Spirit guide me and have her way with me. To trust in the guidance of Jesus and to know that on a deeply physical and spiritual level that his way is the path toward fullness of life not just for me, but for others, too. I try not to do this – to engage orthopraxis – in a legalistic way. And I try not to judge others who may have a different way of expressing their faith than I do. My best guess in life is that if I know what was motivating Jesus – his WHY – I can use that to help motivate me, too. Marcus Borg claimed that Jesus overturned the systematized and ritualized purity practice of ancient Israel (which was a form of orthopraxis) and replaced it with a new value: compassion. Compassion is a form of deeply shared feeling and sympathy. It can be self-sacrificial. Compassion sometimes comes at the expense of our own narrow visions of purity, orthodoxy, and orthopraxis. Following Jesus is not always easy or comfortable, but it is the thing that continues to give my life meaning and purpose. I sense that the God that lures us toward wholeness and compassion also draws us toward unity and lovingkindness. WHY follow that path? Because the other trails don’t seem to lead toward God’s realm. What is your WHY? I see so many things you do; why are you compelled to act with compassion? WHY might it have been important to your parents or someone you admired as a young person? In considering why you act the way you do, may you be drawn even closer to the living God whom we worship, and in whose realm we live and work. Amen. |
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