Romans 3:21-31 · Righteousness Through Faith
All About Me?
Romans 1:16-17; 3:22b-31
Sermon
by John N. Brittain
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Since we all know that one of life's cardinal rules in the twenty-first century is that "it's all about me," I am sort of reluctant to admit this: The Bible is not all about me. Not that I am not there in plenty of places. I am there with Adam pointing the finger at Eve, trying to pass off the blame for my sin to someone else. I am there with Cain, feeling resentment toward someone who is obviously doing better than I and ignoring God's warnings about sin trying to ensnare me, and there I am right alongside Jacob trying to lie my way out of a tight spot. Oh, and I'm there, too, complaining to Moses about the lack of fresh onions here in the desert and having to put up with this manna and quail diet. Now that I think about it, I am probably there urging Jesus not to waste his time with those kids, and telling the blind guy by the roadside to shut up. I might have been shaking my head and clucking my tongue about Jesus spending the afternoon with a low-life traitor like Zacchaeus. Maybe I am even there joining the crowd urging Pilate to release Barabbas without really considering what that means. I might even be on that church committee where it was decided that while Paul may have been a good writer, he really was not much of a speaker, and we would much prefer Apollos as our pastor.

So, when I say that the Bible is not all about me, I am not saying — as many modern people have said — that it is irrelevant to me and my needs. No, they are all there. Nor am using that old ploy, "Only if I had lived back in Bible times, belief would have been so much easier." As far as I can tell belief was pretty tough back then, too.

But as much as I, with all my weaknesses and foibles, might show up in the various biblical narratives, the thrust of the story is never about me and my kind. It is fundamentally about God and God's gracious actions reaching out to all humankind. "For I am not ashamed of the gospel," Paul says, after sharing some opening remarks with the Roman Christians to whom he is writing in anticipation of a visit. It is a bold statement meant to get attention, kind of like clinking on the water glass so that the after dinner speaker may begin. His Roman audience may or may not have realized what a rousing statement this was, but we do.

By this time (if the standard dating is correct) Paul had been imprisoned in Philippi, chased out of Thessalonica, smuggled out of Beroea, had a less-than-stellar attempt at inculturating the gospel at Athens, and spent an unusually long time in Corinth where some were now openly critical of him, feeling that while his writing may have been strong; his personal abilities did not match up favorably to Apollos and Cephas. And yet he says, "I am not ashamed of the gospel." What is this gospel, this good news of which Paul is speaking? That may sound like a dumb question. We know that Paul is not speaking about Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, which had not yet been written (or I least I hope we know that). In some places, Paul writes about "my gospel," meaning his particular twist on the Jesus experience, particularly his Damascus Road revelation (Romans 2:15). But he doesn't say that here. So what is "the gospel"?

We noted a few weeks ago, on the fourth Sunday after Epiphany, that we find a core of what the earliest good news was in the sermons found in the book of Acts:

  1. The divinely approved nature of Jesus' ministry was established by his mighty works, which included his authoritative preaching as well as his miracles. His authority, in other words, was self-evident to those who were willing to objectively listen to and observe him (Acts 2:22; 10:38).
  2. The climax of Jesus' mission was the Jews' unwitting fulfillment of prophecy through the crucifixion (Acts 2:23; 2:36; 3:13-15, 18; 4:10; 5:30; 10:39; 13:27-29) and the crowning vindication of Jesus was the resurrection (Acts 2:32; 3:15; 4:10; 5:30; 10:40; 13:30).
  3. Jesus' ministry continues unhindered through the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3; 10:42-43).
  4. God has provided for the Gentiles' salvation (Acts 10:47; 11:15; 15:7-11; 22:21) and all should repent and accept salvation through name of Jesus who will one day judge the world (Acts 2:38-39; 3:19-21; 4:11-12; 10:34, 42; 17:30-31).

It was with this simple outline in mind that we understood Paul's remarks to the Corinthians in 1:25: "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength." This straightforward statement of how God has chosen to make God's self known in the world might not be as entertaining or convoluted as the flashy arguments of the sophists with whom Paul was unfairly being compared, but this foolishness is full of far more truth than what passes for human wisdom.

For Paul, of all people, the former Pharisee, the gospel, the good news, is about God. It was God who had created humankind and placed them in ideal circumstances on an earth, which at every point in its creation, had been pronounced "good." It was God who after the flood made covenant with Noah that the earth would never again be destroyed in such a way. "I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh" (Genesis 9:13-15, italics mine).

It was God who, out of nowhere, offered a covenant to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and then used the treacherous actions of Joseph's jealous brothers to bring it to fruition. And there is that wonderful reminder in the book of Exodus: "The Israelites groaned under their slavery, and cried out. Out of the slavery their cry for help rose up to God. God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God looked upon the Israelites, and God took notice of them" (Exodus 2:23b-25, italics mine). The story implies that they had forgotten about God, but God had not forgotten about them. He remembered. The action is from God's side.

The story continued as God brought the people through the wilderness, literally feeding and leading them until the time they arrived as Sinai for the receiving of the law. Aha! Now here is where human actions come in, those dreaded Ten Commandments. Some wag has summarized the attitude so many of us have toward the commandments: We wish they were like a multiple choice essay exam — choose any three out of ten. But is that what these are all about, our ability to keep a set of odious requirements? If that is the case, then why have the rabbis always referred to the law as God's greatest gift to humankind? In the prologue to the commandments (i.e. the part we never read), Moses receives these words from God:

Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob, and tell the Israelites: You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself. Now therefore, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation. These are the words that you shall speak to the Israelites. (Exodus 19:3b-6)

The metaphor could not be any more clear. God has carried the people along in the manner of a mother eagle who, unlike birds that simply shove their young out of the nest for a crash course in flying, carry their young on their backs, catching the desert updrafts, until the day that the young eaglet can catch the breeze and soar for itself. The people have been brought along and now are being given the gift of the law so that they might serve God and be God's servants in the world. When they are called to be a priestly people, we need to not be sidetracked by the perversion of thinking this means serving as their own priest. The fundamental task of a priest is to minister to others on behalf of God, so the doctrine of the "priesthood of all believers" is not that we can be our own priests, living in faithful isolation, but that each one is called to act as priest to others.

And on the story progresses, the story of God's graciousness in actively reaching out to humankind. It is all about God's initiative. Unfortunately, because you and I are in the story, the initiative is not always seized. Amos and Hosea are sent to warn the northern kingdom that if they continue to live in a way that alienates them from God bad things will happen. They don't — so they do. Isaiah warns that it may be only a remnant of the people who will be faithful. Then Jeremiah has an astounding promise from the Lord:

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt — a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. (Jeremiah 31:31-33)

This is the "new covenant" that Christians have always understood came in the life and ministry of Jesus, a covenant in which the individual is linked to God through the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. And this is surely what Paul understood when he wrote to the Galatians:

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. (Galatians 4:4-5)

So it is this historical panoply, this metanarrative, that Paul has in mind when he so boldly proclaims, "I am not ashamed of the gospel," of the story of how God has so actively worked to make his love known among all people.

Just look at the verbs in the second part of today's lesson: "God put forward (Jesus) ... He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus." It is God's work. Just as God took the initiative in freeing the people from bondage in Egypt, God took the initiative in freeing humankind from bondage to sin; just as God passed over the homes marked with the blood of the lamb in Egypt, he passes over the sin of those who see that in Jesus God had done it again — had reached out to humankind.

We are so conditioned that life is "all about me" that it is genuinely difficult for us to accept the dramatic simplicity of this teaching. And some of us, at least, have had dramatic images drummed into our subconscious — Luther in his Tower, Wesley at Aldersgate Street — so that we ask, "Is there something I should do? Does my heart have to be warmed just so? Do I have to go to a certain church or a particular evangelist's crusade? Is there some sinner's prayer I have to learn and recite?" Naturally, lots of folks have answers to these questions, often in return for a love offering. We can hardly accept that God simply offers us this free gift.

Father Maximilian Kolbe was a journalist, publisher, and intellectual who ran afoul of the Nazi government in Germany and Poland in the early days of World War II. On February 17, 1941, Father Maximilian was arrested on charges of aiding Jews and the Polish underground, charges that were true. He was sent to the infamous Pawiak prison in German-occupied Warsaw, and was singled out for special ill treatment. He and four companions were deported to Auschwitz on May 28, 1941. Camp Commandant Karl Fritsch ("Butcher" Fritsch) told prisoners that the only way out of the camp was through the chimneys of the crematorium.

Near the end of July, a prisoner apparently escaped, and men from Kolbe's unit were assembled in the blazing midday sun. Ten men were to die as punishment for the escape. One man from each line was selected at random, including a sergeant, Francis Gajowniczek, who spontaneously cried out, "My wife, my children!" A man stepped out from the ranks and offered to take Gajowniczek's place. He was prisoner 16670, Father Maximilian Kolbe. The SS man, "Butcher" Fritsch, did not care who went to the starvation bunker, as long as there were ten of them, so he nodded. "Who are you?" he asked carelessly. "I am a Catholic priest. I wish to die for that man. I am old; he has a wife and children." Father Kolbe, at the age of 47, and the nine others were led off to the death chamber of Cell 18. Francis Gajowniczek survived the prison camp, survived the war, and was present, in 1971, when Maximilian Kolbe was beatified and then, in 1982, stood with his wife, his children, and his grandchildren as the Pope made Father Kolbe a saint of the Roman Catholic church.

Like any illustration, this true story can be and had been misapplied. I use it only to make this point: There was nothing Francis Gajowniczek could do about the situation. The initiative was totally Maximilian Kolbe's. Paul is emphasizing our absolute dependence on God to meet our deepest needs, just as he did for the Israelites. It is all God's action and it applies to all people, Jews and non-Jews, says Paul. Christians have argued from time immemorial about the phrase "through faith for faith." What does it mean to say that "For in it (that is, the gospel) the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith"? (Romans 1:17). Let me suggest that Paul means that the gospel reminds us of God's faithful working through history, now culminated in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. That is the "through faith" part. And it is presented to you and me as starkly as it has been presented over the ages — as starkly and unexpectedly as Maximilian Kolbe stepping forward that day in 1941 — waiting for us to accept it by faith. So we will live by faith.

When we accept this fact, then the verses from chapter 3 all fall into place. When we acknowledge that this is God's work under God's control, there is no room for the kind of pretensions we like to hold and the kind of distinctions we like to make. And here, Paul is surely remembering some of the strife in the Corinthian community that has preoccupied us this Epiphany season. There is no distinction between those who were converted under Paul, Apollos, or Cephas. There is no distinction between those who accept Paul's "simple" (historical) gospel and those who are more attracted to those who use popular philosophical ideas, as long as they have the role of Christ clear. And the kind of social distinctions that preoccupied the church as much then as it does today — whether one is an under-rower or top of the totem pole as household manager (huperetes or oikonomos) ultimately do not matter, because we are all dependent on God. It is true some of us have higher standing in one category or the other, but, "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." We are all human.

So it's true. As much as I hate to admit it, the Bible is not all about me; it's all about God. But the good news — that gospel of which Paul was not ashamed — is the story of the lengths to which God has gone in order to reach out to me, so that my life may be lived with direction, purpose, and fulfillment. Amen.

CSS Publishing, Inc., Sermons for Sundays in Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany: With Our Own Eyes, by John N. Brittain