When the Sermon Hits a Bump

 

In my doctoral cohort, one of my colleagues served an African American Baptist Church.  He educated our group on the power of sermon-talk back.  This is more than just having the people in the pews shout back, “Amen”.  Sometimes the shy soul of the people whispered, “Yes, Lord”.  Or when the church wanted you to say more about the preacher’s particular point, the people might call out, “Preach!”  Or, if the sermon hit a rocky, rough patch and place, where the preacher was over his/her/their skis or going to a place the church did not want to go they might call out, “Lord, help him.”  There are times I long for the sermon to be less monologue and more dialogue.  I wish I knew before the handshake at the door what words falling from my lips touched hearts and souls. 

 

We are about to dive and dwell into dangerous territory in the Sermon on the Mount.  There should be a “Warning” sign flashing for chapter 5:26-48.  I want to be very clear that if you are having a difficult, demanding February so far, you don’t need to push or prove yourself by wrestling with these verses.  Or if you’ve heard these words (especially about divorce) spoken by a pastor or a family member/friend in a hurtful way, causing a wound that has not healed, I am sorry.  Too often, as Walter Brueggemann says, the Bible and the pastor gang up and can be used like a weapon on people in the pews.  We wound one another with words of Scripture.  Please know if you want to talk more about these verses that stretch us, perhaps demand too much of us, my door is open.  Scripture was written in a community (Jesus is preaching to his disciples) for a community to be read by a community.  Within the Jewish tradition, Scripture is less about rules to obey and more a conversation to enter.

 

While I love scripture, I don’t have all the answers.  I wrestle with Scripture. I especially wrestle with interpretations of Scripture that have and continue to hurt people.  I invite you today, if you would like, to read verses 26-48. 

 

Is there a place you shout, “Amen”?

Is there a place you softly say, “Yes, Lord!”?

Is there a place you say, “Lord, help Jesus” and “Help me, Jesus, because what you are saying is baffling, bewildering, and I want (like Thomas Jefferson) to cut these words out of the Sermon on the Mount? 

 

Note your response and reaction.  Hold what is stirred in your heart, name/notice your emotions from anger to excitement to suppressing a yawn.  Be held by a mystery of God’s wayless way that isn’t only about understanding but also standing under a wisdom that might not make reasonable, rational sense.  Hold what you have heard in previous sermons ~ the good and the painful.  Or better yet, rather than hold it, write it down!  I invite you to begin to process the pain and confusion and struggle ~ not that one week of Morning Meditations will magically solve it all ~ but I pray might be a moment of release and relief.  With God’s love as we enter this tender, fragile soil of Jesus’ sermon with each other. Amen.