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Sermons at St. John’s Presbyterian Church The
Purpose of the Church Transcribed from the sermon preached August 8, 2010 The Reverend Max Lynn,
Pastor 2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705 Telephone 510-845-6830 Fax 510-845-6837 http://www.stjohnsberkeley.org Scripture
Readings: Mark 1:35-45,
Hebrews 10:18-25 The idea that a priest, by making an offering to a god, an offering of food, killing an animal or human so that another can be freed or justified and sanctified seems strange to us today. It is easier for us to understand sacrifice as selfless good deeds for others, or short term loss in return for greater gain (for instance working hard at school or exercise, sacrificing certain foods and relaxation time to be more healthy, strong, and prosperous in the long run). Most of us understand a thanksgiving offering; in a sign of having been blessed with something valuable, we place a portion of that thing or a representation of it and give it away in gratitude.
Sacrifice of animals and
humans has been a religious ritual of many cultures.
For our purposes, Israelite culture understood that
when God’s
will is broken, there was a separation between God and humans. Thus,
the nearer one was to God, the more holy or sacred, while
the more separated from God, the more secular, unclean or unholy. Breaking relationship with
God, a punishment
was due; justice or justification was demanded.
But not only justice needed to be served before one
could be
brought back into the presence of God, but also righteousness or
sanctification
– a person needed to be made clean or holy.
The sacrifice represented both justification and
sanctification, both
making right and making holy or clean.
The Hebrew scripture
depicts the nature of sacrifice in great detail.
Certain people, places, architecture, clothes,
animals, spices,
words, times, days, foods and actions were set apart, regulated to
sanctify, to
make holy. How
do we relate to this notion of set apart?
Perhaps your mom had a cabinet with a set of china
dishes and
silver. And as kids
you knew not to
open that sacred door, not to touch those sacred dishes, or you would
feel the
wrath of God. Then,
perhaps once or
twice a year, after you had had a sanctifying bath, complete with
washing
behind your ears, and put on sanctified by mother clothes, and sat down
at the
special dining room table with a sanctified table cloth and a special
guest,
after a sacred prayer, you might get the opportunity to use that sacred
silver
ladle to put special gravy on that sacrificial turkey and eat upon that
sacred
china. Then after
supper and a piece of
sacred peach pie, you were consecrated into long line of sacred
dishwashers. Most
of this very specific priestly language comes from the post exilic
period, when
after the temple had been destroyed and defiled, priests set up a plan
to
restore the people of Israel and their holy places, centralizing
holiness and
thereby the priestly leadership in Jerusalem.
So these priests make additions to scripture, as we
find in Exodus and
Leviticus. In
Exodus 28, Moses is told to institute the priesthood, to consecrate
certain
people, the house of Aaron, and the Levites. Ex. 28 [1]
"Then bring
near to you Aaron your brother, and his sons with
him, from among the
people of Israel, to serve me as priests ... [2] And
you shall make holy
garments for Aaron your brother, for glory and for
beauty … to
consecrate him for my priesthood. ·
[4] These are the garments which
they shall make: a breast
piece, an ephod, a robe, a coat of checker work, a turban, and a
girdle; they
shall make holy garments for Aaron your brother and
his sons to serve me
as priests.” Moses
was instructed to make a tabernacle, which the Priestly writers
conveniently
describe as looking a lot like their later temple in Jerusalem; there
will be
an outer courtyard where there was an altar for burnt offerings, and an
inside
part called the Holy Place. And
then,
at the center, protected by a curtain, is the Holy of Holies, where the
Arc of
the Covenant is kept. Only
the High
Priest could pass this curtain and enter this most holy place. (John
Ortberg
Vision Weekend 2009) Only
priests were allowed to approach the altar, and then only within the
context of
a complex series of rituals and while wearing specific vestments that
symbolized their holiness. The
animal
was often sacrificed, and the blood sprinkled usually on whoever or
whatever
was to be cleansed and made holy, and certain portions of meat were
burnt,
depending upon the type of sacrifice.
While regular priests performed these daily
functions, the high priest
was entrusted with the sin offerings, especially that of the Day of
Atonement.
(Achtemeier, Paul, editor. Harper Collins Bible Dictionary) On
Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, the High Priest sacrificed a bull
for
himself and a goat for Israel and used the blood to remove the
impurities of
the sanctuary, the Holy of Holies, and altar caused by ritual and moral
sins. On this day
only the high priest
entered the Holy of Holies to sprinkle blood from the bull and goat on
the
mercy seat, the seat of God. The
High
Priest would symbolically place the sins of the people on another goat,
the
scapegoat, and send it out into the wilderness, taking the sins and
impurities
away. (Ibid) The
book of Leviticus lays out the whole system separating the holy from
the
unholy, the set apart from the common, the clean from the unclean, the
sacred
from the secular. Now
there were
gradations of holiness, a holiness sphere.
The most holy was the seat of God, where God sat,
the Holy of
Holies. John
Ortberg compares the Holy
of Holies to the radioactive core in a nuclear reactor.
The closer you get, the more holy radiation
you are bombarded with. (Ortberg,
John.
MPPC online sermon: “Vision Weekend: 2009” Only
the high priest on the highest holy day, after his cleansing sacrifice,
could
pass the curtain and go in there.
The
next closest to God were the regular priesthood who could enter the
temple. Then there
was an area for
Israelite men, then Israelite women, and finally there was an outer
courtyard
and beyond for gentiles. The
nation of
Israel, through covenant with God, through the law and ritual cleansing
sacrifice, thought of themselves as a holy people within a holy land. If
you were a woman, handicapped or blind, a leper or a gentile, there was
something not holy about you and therefore you could only get so close
to God;
mercy only reached so far. God
was
inside; you were outside. You
could not
touch; you could not go inside for you would contaminate the pure. You knew your place and it
wasn’t the Holy
of Holies. The
other day I overheard a young man saying, “I am so mad at myself.” I asked him why? He said, “I am ashamed of
my body.” He wanted
to hide it like he had leprosy. Often
in our materialist culture, a certain
body shape, color, size or age is sacred.
And if we don’t have it, we are taught to hide, to
feel bad,
outcast. And it is
sad how a low self esteem
about one thing often leads us to treat ourselves badly in other ways
too. Focused and
wanting to hide the negative, we
miss nurturing our strengths; we miss joining with others for fun and
growth. Feeling
guilty or ashamed, we punish
ourselves. Thinking we are a lost cause, we may give ourselves to sin.
A
cultural system that doles out guilt and shame becomes our own disease,
and we
feel like lepers. Yet
it is amazing how
God will send waves of grace to wash away our share and bring joy. Now Jesus
is not of the priestly line of Aaron, the priests who were by his day
the
leaders of the Sadducees and Sanhedrin.
Jesus was a Pharisee, and went about healing by
touching the unclean and
forgiving sins. After
healing the
leper, Jesus instructs the man to tell nobody, and follow the usual
procedure
of having the priest make a cleansing offering, affirming the Law of
Moses. But the guy
can’t help himself,
and starts blabbing to everyone. In
the Gospel of Mark, unlike in John, Jesus does not toot his own horn. He has this healing power
and great
compassion, a clear line to God, but he would hope to avoid claims of
being the
Messiah, and seems not to have a problem with the traditional rituals
and
places which help remind us of God’s holiness and mercy. But people can’t help
being enthusiastically
faithful when this holy man comes out to meet them.
Wherever he goes on whichever day, whomever he meets
feels like
they have had an encounter with the holy, cleansing, merciful God. Now this is radical whether
Jesus likes it or not. When
the
priesthood and experts of the law and holiness begin to get upset,
Jesus could
repent, and stop his blasphemous behavior.
Then he would be fine.
But there
was a bigger problem with this hierarchy of holiness; not only did it
keep
people out, it kept God in. Jesus
was
out, not behind a curtain, not being contaminated but on the contrary,
he was
making others holy. His
holiness and
purity was contagious. He
has a
holiness virus that attacks disease and sin and cleanses us and makes
us
whole. God didn’t
have to hide; God was
on the move. We can have our own cultural rituals and artifacts. We
just
shouldn’t try to prevent God from doing good beyond them. In
his integrity, in his experience of the omnipresent holiness and mercy
of God,
he could not stop being himself, even though his actions were so
radical that
he would certainly be killed. He
is
going to be loving, and proclaim God’s omnipresent love for all, even
to the
point of death. It
is in this sense
that Jesus is the sacrificial lamb, the one who refuses to stop being
of
service to God, healing and forgiving, even when it means his death; he
is the
one who sacrifices the short term gain of a little longer life in this
body for
the long term gain of the universal, eternal life and love of God. And
for this reason, Mark records at the end of his story, with Jesus on
the cross:
Ch.15 [37] And
Jesus
uttered a loud cry, and breathed his last. The tearing starts from
heaven. I
f Jesus was right and true, then it doesn’t matter
if we
come from a priestly line, it doesn’t matter our race or nation, gender
or
orientation, whether we are rich or poor, tall and skinny or round or
short,
young or old, brilliant or not the brightest tool in the shed, we have
a part
in God’s plan and wherever that plan carries us, God will be there to
guide,
love and forgive. The
author of Hebrew mixes all the metaphors: Jesus is the scapegoat, lamb
whose
blood cleanses us and enables us to enter the sanctuary; he is the
curtain
which is torn, giving us access to the Holy of Holies, and he is the
great High
Priest whose purity is eternal and therefore whose forgiveness is also
eternal. He is the
last sacrifice
necessary. The day
when God needed
animals and people to be killed in order for God to bless and forgive
is
gone. His
forgiveness is once and for
all. Hebrews tell us that the person, life, death and resurrection of
Jesus
brings us three things; and this is what the Church is to be about,
faith, hope
and love. [1]“Let us draw near with a
true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean
from an
evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.
[2] Let us hold fast to the confession of our
hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful; and [3] let us
consider
how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to
meet
together…and encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the
Day
drawing near. [7] Whither
shall I go
from thy Spirit? It is never too late to
change, never too late to receive God’s forgiveness, never too late to
have
faith, hope and love of God in our lives.
As the day of our death and the death of those we
love draws near, we
might be tempted to think we are a lost cause, we are too set in our
ways, too
far from God, too far from the holy things.
But if the Gospel is true, we are never so far that
God is not present with
us. The curtain has
been torn, the sacrifice
made, God has broken out and comes to us with love, forgiveness and
eternal
life. This is the
Gospel of Jesus
Christ.
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