Sermon by the Rev. Andrew S. Rollins

Lent IIIB (March 15, 2009)

Text: Exodus 20:1 – 17; Romans 7:13 - 25

Title: “Rite One, the Law, and Joy”

Comfort Level

Last summer, our family visited church that meets in a movie theater. The leadership of this church was wisely paying attention to the comfort level of visitors. They met you at the door with a welcome bag for your children. Greeters were assigned to offer and bring you a cup of coffee (“Cream and sugar?”) But what made the greatest impression on me was that I was allowed to carry that coffee into the service. And my theater seat had a cup holder. So I felt comfortable, relaxed and welcomed.

Thou Shalt Not . . .

I have to wonder about the comfort level of any visitors who have unwittingly stepped into our worship service this morning. As we do every Sunday of Lent, we began with a silent procession, the singing the Decalogue (the Ten Commandments), the Confession of Sin, and the Kyrie (“Lord, Have Mercy”). And we do this all in the traditional language of Rite One – which we know is what they speak in heaven -- so we all might as well get used to it. But visitors don’t know that! If anyone did bring their coffee into this service, they probably put it down about half-way through the Decalogue: “Thou Shalt Not . . . .” The tone of the Rite One Decalogue doesn’t encourage us to comfortably drink coffee in the presence of the Almighty.

The Ten Commandments list what God requires of every human being. The Old Testament law is direct, unambiguous, inflexible, unalterable. No allowances are offered for your particular mitigating circumstances. The commandment is spoken to everyone in every situation: Thou [That means ‘all-y’all’] shalt have no other gods before me. The contemporary translations just don’t capture it: “Don’t have any other gods.” “You shouldn’t have other gods.” Some of the translations give the impression that we are doing God a favor by obeying him. As the Decalogue goes on, the commandments become shorter, more abrupt: Thou shalt do no murder. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not covet. Just four words.

Whether we sing or read them, the Ten Commandments corner us. Command by command, God puts us in checkmate. It’s like the old song: “Nowhere to run to, baby. Nowhere to hide” (Zahl).

Several Responses

Faced with the Ten Commandments, there are several responses that one might have. I might say to myself, “Those don’t apply to me. I am special. I am the exception.” You don’t have to look far to see this response to any law, divine or man-made. When was the last time you boarded a plane? The sign clearly reads and the flight attendant clearly repeats, “All take-on baggage must fit neatly in the area underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thou shalt not attempt to cram luggage that is larger than 6 by 12 by 36 inches into the overhead bin.” And why is the line not moving? Because someone is trying to cram a steam trunk into the overhead bin. They are special. They are the exception. The rules do not apply to them. There are mitigating circumstances. (They have a lot of stuff.)

When faced with the Ten Commandments, the more common response for us as Christians is to look to Jesus for compassion, sympathy, and understanding. We can trust Jesus for a more relaxed ethic, a more tolerant view of our limitations, a more elastic view of the law. We look to Jesus to reassure us, “Look, Dad just sort of lost his temper. He’s gonna calm down. Just stay out of his way and let me talk to him.” God the Father is, after all, so . . . Old Testament. But, instead of offering an easy out, we find that Jesus expands and intensifies the Old Testament law.

Jesus Expands and Intensifies the Law

The Ten Commandments say, Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. But Jesus goes even further. He says, Do not swear at all: either by heaven, for it is God’s throne, or by the earth, for it is his footstool. . . . Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more is from the evil one (Matthew 5:34f). The commandment says, Thou shalt not steal. But Jesus says, If someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well (12:36).

It’s gets worse. The commandment says, Thou shalt not commit adultery. God stands respectfully outside your house and says, “No sex outside of the marriage bond.” But Jesus marches right through your front door into your thought life and says, “This area that you call ‘personal’ or ‘private’ is covered by the commandment as well”: Anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart (Matthew 5:28). With the exception of Jesus himself, is there a single man who has ever lived that is not an adulterer by that definition?

And not only is lust equivalent to adultery, an insult is equivalent to murder: But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or a sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or a sister, you will be liable to the council, and if you say ‘You fool’, you will be liable to the hell of fire (5:22). There is probably enough email evidence alone to send you to hell! (That stuff never goes away, you know.)

To Jesus’ way of thinking, desiring something (lust) is the same thing as implementing it (the physical act of sex). Jesus was willing to apply the commandments not simply to outward action, but also to our interior fantasies, even those we do not act on! The cultivated impulse actually equals the committed deed. Jesus sums all this up this way: Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have not come to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass away from the law until all is accomplished (5:17, 18). . . . Unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven (5:20).

If the Ten Commandments are the hammer that breaks us into small pieces of rock, then the commandments of Jesus grind us to a fine powder.

Paul’s Cry to God

Which leads us to a third possible response to the law: Despair. If we accept how inflexible the law is – and if we see how Jesus expanded and intensified that law – and, then we see that there is just no possibility of keeping that law, then life becomes tragic. We see that we are convicted persons. We are judged and found wanting. A verdict hangs over our heads.

Which is precisely where we find the apostle Paul in today’s reading from Romans. There is a clear link today between the Old Testament and Epistle readings. Paul has been writing about the law – how the law is holy, just, and good. But even though Paul desires to keep that law, he finds that he can’t: For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. He finds that he is constantly at a war with himself. Finally, he cries out: Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? (If you’re read ahead, you know the answer. But let’s not move on to that answer too quickly.)

Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me? Have you ever gotten to that point of hopelessness? To that point of despair where you cry out, “I am a guilty sinner and have put myself in an impossible situation before a holy God.” Have you been there?

At coffee hour, someone is going to tell me that I sound like a Baptist. I don’t sound like a Baptist; I sound like Thomas Cranmer. Read the opening collect: “Almighty God, who seest that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves . . . .” Cranmer really meant that.

The Most Wonderful News in the World

Until we get to that point of despair and see that there is just no hope for us, the Cross of Jesus Christ is a just sentimentality. A weak and sentimental view of the law will always lead to a weak and sentimental view of God’s grace, and of the cross of Christ.

But for the person who has been ground to a fine powder by the law . . . to the person who has despaired of any hope of keeping the law . . . the message of the Cross – that God has acted on the cross in such a way that the righteous requirements of the law are actually met once and for all suddenly become the most wonderful news in the world. The Rite One language for what God has done is “. . . that thou, of they great mercy, didst give thine only Son Jesus Christ to suffer death upon the cross for our redemption; who made there, by this one oblation of himself once offered, a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction, for the sins of the whole world.” To the person who has despaired of their ability to keep the law, that is the best possible news they could ever hear. It’s worth everything!

It’s like a treasure that’s been hidden in a field. And when you find it, its worth so much that you run off and sell everything you have so that you can buy that field and have that treasure! (I didn’t make that up). The gospel is the most wonderful news in the world.

Periodically, I will see programs and books aimed at instructing people how to share their faith: “Ten Steps to Sharing Your Faith” or “How to Teach Episcopalians to Share the Good News”. There is some value in that, I suppose. But if you really receive that Gospel message as the good news that it is, no one has to explain, instruct, or direct you to share it. You can’t help but share it because its good gews!

Does anyone have to instruct a young couple who has just had a baby to tell their friends and family about it? Does the doctor have to sit this young couple down and say sternly, “Now you’ve just had a baby. What I want you to do is make a list of your friends and family. And one by one, I want you to call them and tell them about the birth, the name of the baby, his weight. Please explain to them that you’re happy. You are full of joy.” That’s crazy! You can’t stop a young couple from sharing their Good News with anyone who will listen . . . even people who don’t care!

What I’m trying to say is that the depth of our joy as Christians is directly related to how deeply we appreciate that God has rescued us from an impossible, tragic situation.

Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Paul answers his own question. Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!