|
Last week we looked at one image
of the church, that of a circle of grace—God seeking,
claiming and sustaining us. Today, another image, taken from
St. Peter’s letter to the early Christians of what is now
Turkey, Asia Minor—a “peculiar people.”
A dictionary definition of
“peculiar” says: “Out of the ordinary, strange, odd,
unusual.” You might say “just plain weird.” I preached a
sermon by that title in Ann Arbor in the fall. Little did I
know that we had visitors from Birmingham, and I suppose I
will forever be known by Mackenzie Kreitz as the “just plain
weird guy.” Of course, “odd” or “out of the ordinary” all
depends on what you consider “normal.” In Lord of the
Rings, Sam and Frodo were amazed to discover that their
traveling companions had never heard of “second breakfast,”
and in the world of Hogwarts, what is “odd” for muggles is
perfectly normal for Harry Potter.
But the dictionary also offers a
more positive spin on the word “peculiar.” It means:
“Special, particular, distinctive, belonging to one thing
and not another.” And I think that is the definition Peter
has in mind when he says that Christians are a “peculiar
people”…better translated as “God’s Own People.”
This paragraph from Peter’s
first letter is full of mixed metaphors and overlapping
images. He seems to get caught up in the emotion and
inspiration of what he is saying and grabs every image he
can get his hands on to make his point. He employs a
well-known rabbinic teaching tool of a series of phrases,
each one interpreting the next…like a string of beads:
-
New-born babes, tasting the goodness of God
-
The
living Stone, a cornerstone and lively stones built into
a spiritual house
-
Stone
of stumbling, a rock of offense
-
Chosen
race, royal priesthood, holy nation, God’s own people
So if you
want to know what makes us peculiar, look at the connected
images:
1.
WE ARE A HOLY NATION.
Right off the bat, it is obvious
Peter is not talking about political citizenship in the
nation or state. He is not advocating the divine right of
kings or manifest destiny. Nor is he suggesting that one
political nation or state is somehow more holy than another.
He is, after all, writing in the day when the Roman Empire
was in full force, literally covering and controlling the
known world. The worship of the Caesar and the state was
part of the woodwork, the full melding of religion and
state. The creed of the nation was “Caesar is Lord.” They
really believed that the nation was “holy” and the Caesar,
divine.
Peter is not talking about that
kind of allegiance or citizenship. Rather, Peter is writing
to this fledgling band of scattered disciples who, in the
face of the might of Rome and worship of Caesar, were bold
to say: “Jesus is Lord.” They are the ones he is calling a
“holy nation.” Called out from every nation, every tribe and
every language by God; marked by the sign of the cross;
traveling under the banner of allegiance to Christ as Lord
of all.
“You,” says
Peter, “because you belong to one thing and not another”—
because you belong to
Jesus Christ rather than to Caesar,
because you worship God
alone and not the state,
because your first
allegiance is to the cross rather than to any standard, sign
or flag,
“therefore, you are a holy nation, God’s own people.”
Now the problem of
misunderstanding what it means to be “a holy nation” goes
right back to the beginning, with God’s original call to the
Children of Abraham, the people of Old Testament Israel. As
early as the Book of Deuteronomy, obviously the people were
beginning to think they were special. We can start to
believe it is all about our goodness, our identity, and who
we are that makes the difference.
So as early as the book of
Deuteronomy, Moses used the same language and image which
Peter now claims for the Christians:
For you are a people holy to the
Lord your God; the Lord has chosen you to be a people for
his own possession, out of all the peoples on the face of
the earth. It was not because you were more in number that
the Lord set his love upon you and chose you, but it is
because the Lord loves you, and is keeping the oath which he
swore to your fathers, that the Lord has brought you out
with a mighty hand and redeemed you. (Deut. 7:6-9)
Not because you are so
special…but because God loves you. Not that you are so
holy…but because God has redeemed you. Not that there is
something intrinsically better about your state than any
other…but because God has claimed you and made you a people
of his own possession. You, as the people of God from every
people and every state—you are a holy nation, God’s own
people.
Peter Storey, former Bishop of
the Methodist Church of South Africa, now teaching at Duke
Divinity School, led the South African Methodists through
the difficult and challenging days of their witness against
the evil of apartheid. In a sermon in 1989, before the
liberation of his nation, Peter said:
In South Africa, the pagan
notion of racial purity and pride has become the nation’s
god and that sick, false religion stains everything we do.
One of the great tragedies of my homeland is that some parts
of the Christian Church have become mouthpieces, not of God
but of the state. It is time for the church to be the
church!
Jesus brought into being an
entirely new, radically different community, offering people
citizenship transcending the frontiers of nations and
contrasting powerfully with the norms around it. The church
is not simply another institution in society, nor is it an
extension of the traditions of any state. The church must be
different, often over against the ways of all nations.
This
alternative identity must be cherished as the most important
characteristic of the church…our identity in Jesus Christ.
(P. Storey,
“With God in the Crucible,” page 151)
In a day when the religious
right tends to blur the lines between church and state, I
think Bishop Storey is right. The church needs to be clear
about our identity. Our highest allegiance is to Christ. We
belong to one thing and not another. We are gathered from
all the peoples of the earth as the Body of Christ, the
Kingdom of God, a holy nation.
It makes us
a bit peculiar…distinctive, special, particular. We are
“God’s own people.”
2. AND WE ARE A
ROYAL PRIESTHOOD
Again, the risk is that we get
to thinking of the priesthood as an order of princes of the
church— elevated, holy, robed in silver and gilded with
gold, better than everyone else. Nothing could be further
from the mind of Peter or the pattern of Christ.
To be a priest is to be one who
goes between God and the people. It is to be one who
communicates the word of God to the world. It is to be
commissioned with the task of carrying the caring ministry
of Christ into the community, to be the ones who break the
bread of reconciliation and bear the cup of Christ’s mercy
to those who are hurting and in need.
And Peter’s letter is not
addressed to a set-apart class of ordained clergy, since
none existed in the church at the time of his writing. I
happen to believe in the role of the ordained—I’ve spent 35
years of my life doing this—but Peter’s letter is addressed
to all the church. You are all “a royal priesthood.”
All are called to go between God
and the world.
All are called to carry the love of Christ to others.
All are called to be the servant people of God.
All are called to be priests to one another.
In contrast to the priests of
the pagan temples around them who were venerated, pampered
and out of touch with the common people, Peter calls the
whole church to the task of servanthood, the calling of
Christ.
Again, several years ago, when
British Airways was doing well, Peter Storey tells of Dick
Georgiades who was credited for turning British Airways into
the most profitable airline in the world. When asked the
secret of his success, Dick said:
It’s really quite simple. We
just turned our management philosophy upside down, and
everyone became accountable to person below them rather than
the person above them.
Bishop
Storey says:
Here is a massive corporation
embracing the servant lifestyle of Jesus! The focus of the
company would be on the humble passenger rather than the top
executive.
So he
asks:
Who is the focus of the church?
Who is the person we are concerned about? Who do we exist to
serve? For Jesus, there was no question. In the Kingdom, the
humble are lifted up and the most vulnerable have pride of
place. That’s why you can’t ask Jesus into your heart alone.
He will always ask, “Can I bring my friends?” and his
friends will always include the poor, the marginalized, and
the oppressed. (P. Storey, “With God in the Crucible,” page
155)
Jesus says the final judgment
will be on what we have done for “the least of these”…his
friends. We are called to be a “royal priesthood” in
service to the world.
From the days of my youth, I
still remember singing Frank Mason North’s great hymn. It
challenged me then and inspires me now:
Where cross the crowded ways of
life,
where sound the cries of race and clan,
above the noise of selfish strife we hear thy voice,
O Son of man.
The cup of water given for thee
still holds the freshness of your grace;
yet long these multitudes to see
the sweet compassion of thy face.
O Master, from the mountainside
make haste to heal these hearts of pain;
among the restless throngs abide,
O tread the city streets again.
Till all the world shall learn
thy love
and follow where thy feet have trod;
till glorious from your heaven above,
shall come the city of our God. (UM Hymnal, 427)
We are a
“peculiar people,” a holy nation, a royal priesthood…
3. WITH A PARTICULAR
TASK…
“…to declare the wonderful deeds of him who called us out of
darkness into his marvelous light.”
I love that
phrase! Take a deep breath…no commas, no semicolons—
“…to
declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of
darkness into his marvelous light.”
What a
commission. What a calling. What a task.
Just imagine what it would be
like to start every morning, looking in the mirror, saying
to yourself that “no matter what work I have to do, my first
task is to declare the wonderful deeds of him who called
us out of darkness and into his marvelous light.”
-
No matter how boring the
meetings and dull the duties, my hidden agenda is to
“declare the wonderful deeds of him who called us out of
darkness and into his marvelous light.”
-
No matter how depressing the
headlines or how dark the horizon, my calling is to “declare
the wonderful deeds of him who called us out of darkness
and into his marvelous light.”
When John Wesley sent lay
preacher George Shadford to the American colonies with
nothing in his saddlebags but his Bible and a Methodist
hymnal, he sent him with this commission: “I set you loose,
George, on the great continent of America. Proclaim your
message in the open face of the sun and do all the good you
can.” Those early circuit riders were given the charge to
“Proclaim scriptural holiness and reform the continent,”
and they went about doing just that.
We are peculiar…special,
distinctive, commissioned with the task of “proclaiming
the wonderful deeds of him who called us out of darkness and
into his marvelous light.”
One quick story: Let me tell you
about Boris and the Methodist Church in Paldiski, Estonia.
During the Soviet years, Paldiski was a closed military
community. They literally flattened the old town and built
one of those bland Communist-era communities with concrete
apartment buildings and lifeless streets. When Communism
fell, they abandoned the city, taking with them almost
anything of value, including the kitchen sink. What’s left
is a dismal outpost with a struggling economy, little work
and disheveled buildings. In the basement of one of the
broken-down apartment buildings, you enter through a leaking
cellar full of discarded rubble, but then step into one
small room, large enough for about thirty people. It’s the
home of the Paldiski Methodist Church.
One room, refurbished, painted a
fresh white, with a clean floor and new chairs, all done
almost single-handedly by Boris and his wife. He speaks only
Russian and she speaks Russian and some Estonian, so
everything had to be translated from Russian to Estonian to
English. It makes for complicated conversation, but in the
midst you have never seen such joy, such radiant faith, such
hope, such a winsome witness! There in the midst of decay
and the darkness of a dank cellar, they are about the
business of “declaring the wonderful deeds of him who
called us out of darkness and into his marvelous light.”
Odd, strange, out of the
ordinary…
Special, distinctive, particular…
Belonging to one thing and not another…
You are a holy nation, a royal priesthood, and God’s own
people.
A peculiar
people.
|
