More than Just Greetings: Romans 16:1-16

At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be a lot to talk about in our lesson from the book of Romans this morning.  I mean, essentially all you have Paul doing is sending greetings.  Greet such and such.  Greet so and so.  Greet this person who is beloved.  Greet that person who is a member of that house.  Over and over again–27 people worth of greetings. I mean, if that is the sum and substance of Paul’s paragraph here, what more is to be said than simply getting up here and saying, “Greet one another.  Amen.?”  Short.  Sweet.  To the point.  Done. Let’s call it a day.

But let’s take a moment to dig a little deeper.  Let’s go beyond the superficial and look at some of the details and see what is revealed about what it means to live a life that is convicted by the Gospel.

The first thing that stands out to me is how many people Paul actually knew in the church that he had never visited.  Think about this with me for just a moment.   Remember, Paul has admitted that he has never been to the church in Rome.  He has yet to travel there, even though he has desperately wanted to.  If that is the case, how is it that Paul knows the names of so many people?  How is it that he somehow can ask for greetings for over 20 folks whom he has yet to see face to face?

This gives us some insight into the early Christian church.  It tells us that in the early Church, folks knew of fellow Christians throughout the Roman Empire.  They were not isolated in their little enclaves, thinking only about themselves, and connected to their small circle of friends and relatives in their communities.  No.  They had a much larger perspective of what the church was.  They had a much larger perspective of where the Gospel was supposed to go.  They knew that the church was struggling to gain a foothold in the Roman Empire.  It faced trials and tribulations.  It faced some persecution.  It faced shortage of resources.  So, people stayed in contact with each other.  People prayed for one another.  People in Achaia and Macedonia cared for the people in Jerusalem.  People in Jerusalem prayed for the people in Rome.  The early Christians knew that the church was much, much larger than their local congregations, and they made it a point to reach across the distances to get to know folks in other places.

I must confess that this is an area of growth for me.  I tend to be rather short-sighted.  I tend to focus right here on this community and neglect others throughout the world.  I tend to forget that the church is much, much larger than Saint John Lutheran Church of Cat Spring.  I tend to focus my prayers right here and forget about the rest of the world.  I do not know many people outside of this congregation and the congregations I served previously.  It is a challenge for me to think on a grander scale...to think about the larger church.  Perhaps this is also a challenge for our congregation.

The second thing that stands out for me is the diversity of people that Paul greets.  There are men and women.  There are Jews and Gentiles.  There are people who own houses, and there are slaves.  These early house churches cut across racial, gender, and socio-economic status.  When you walked into those churches, you did not see row after row of people who looked the same, had the same background, and had the same status in society.  The Gospel had broken down these boundaries and replaced them with a new set of boundaries.

For you see, the Gospel proclaimed that each and every person was in Christ Jesus.  Each and every person had been clothed with Christ Jesus. Each and every person had a new identity that went above and beyond any other identity conferred upon them in society.  People did not cease having a Jewish or Gentile background. They did not cease being rich or poor.  They did not cease being slave or free. They did not cease being male or female, but those identities were nothing compared to their identity in Christ.  Therefore, there was only one status that was important in the church: that you were a child of God.

That’s it.
Nothing else.

You were not given special privilege because you were wealthy.  You were not given special privilege because you were male.  You were not given special privilege because you were Jewish.  All of these things, which at one time did bestow privilege, were gone.  You were a new creation being made into the image and likeness of Jesus.

This too has implications for the church today.  For it is awfully easy to flip back into the distinctions of status and privilege.  It is awfully easy to believe that our job or our title or our bank accounts or our possessions or any other distinguishing mark gives us a special privilege.  This is something we must resist.  When the church begins allowing these distinctions, we fall away from the promises we have inherited in our baptisms.  We fail to remember how Jesus has claimed us and clothed us.  We fail to remember what Christ has done for us and instead focus on, well, us.  And we are not the focus of the church.  Jesus has been, is, and always will be.  When a church fails to focus on Jesus, distinctions get made, and we are another step further removed from the becoming the body of Christ.

Finally, in this passage, we see a deep, deep sense of love and respect between church members.  Paul’s initial words about the deaconess Phoebe are a recommendation to end all recommendations.  They are very, very flattering and are intended to paint her in the best possible light as she, in all likelihood, brings Paul’s letter to the church in Rome.  We then see just how far members in the church are willing to care for one another in the next statement.  “Greet Prisca and Aquila, who work with me in Christ Jesus, 4and who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I give thanks, but also all the churches of the Gentiles.”

I must confess to you that I don’t think I had ever paid that much attention to this sentence the previous times when I had read through the book of Romans.  Prisca and Aquila literally “risked their necks” on behalf of Paul.  Whatever they did, it put them in great risk for their fellow brother in Christ.  Whatever they did, it could have cost them their lives.  In the early church, folks were willing to risk their lives for one another!!!  Chew on that for just a minute. 

Being a part of the early church literally could put your life in danger.  Much like being a part of the church in Iran today, or in the areas still controlled by ISIS.  Much like being a part of the church in China.  Christians in these parts of the world are apt to suffer greatly at the hands of the ruling authorities, and being a part of the church there could literally jeopardize your life.

And yet, the church is actually growing rapidly in these parts of the world just as it grew rapidly in the Roman empire.  There was something so deeply moving about the Christian faith that it led people to do things that were almost unthinkable.  It led people to take unbelievable risks for one another–risks that were not done out of any sort of self-interest or personal gain, but risks that were taken out of great love for fellow believers.

And why wouldn’t they take such risks?  They knew what Jesus had done for them. They knew what Jesus had endured for their sakes.  They knew that Jesus had come into this world as God-incarnate.  They knew that Jesus had lived the life that God desired of mankind.  They knew that Jesus was spotless and blameless before God.  They knew that Jesus offered Himself as the sacrifice for their sins.  They knew that they didn’t measure up to God’s standards.  They knew that they fell woefully short.  They knew they deserved eternal punishment for their shortcomings before the Almighty Creator of the universe.  But instead of that punishment falling on their heads, Jesus took that punishment for them.  Jesus interceded on their behalf and faced hell for them.  Jesus faced rejection for them.  Jesus faced divine wrath for them.  And then He became the first fruits of a new creation as he was raised from the dead.  He became the first sign of God’s new kingdom breaking into the world and reversing all evil and hatred.  He became the unleashing of God’s rule in the world where death and the devil would be defeated.  These early Christians were grasped by this marvelous act of Jesus.  They were grasped by this undeserved love.  They were grasped by the wonder of God dying for them when they least deserved it, and their hearts were moved to love God and love one another so that they would lay down their lives for each other.  They would take great risks for one another.  They would sacrifice their time, their talent, and their treasure for one another.  The Gospel changed them deeply from within!

And O how desperately do we need this Gospel today!!  How desperately do we need to have Christ’s love poured into our hearts so that we are willing to have our lives changed again!!  How desperately does the church need an infusion of God’s love reawakened within it!  How desperately does the church need to rediscover its roots so that it has the energy, drive, and hope of the early church!  For as the rest of the world saw how different the church was; as the rest of the world saw the changed hearts and self-sacrifice of the church; the rest of the world noticed that this change was not brought about by self-will and determination.  The rest of the world saw that God had indeed touched the hearts and minds of the church.  The rest of the world saw that God was real and had come to earth as Jesus the Christ.  The rest of the world saw that God’s kingdom was breaking into the world, and they wanted to be a part of that kingdom as well.  The rest of the world’s hearts became changed because the Gospel captured them through the love, preaching, teaching, and risk taking of the church.

Oh, my brothers and sisters, this text has so much more within it than simply greeting one another.  It helps us see what the church can be when it loves God and then loves one another.  May God’s love find us so that we may be the Church!!  Amen.

Israel and Hamas

It's a poor analogy, but one I sometimes feel.

I feel as if I were watching a spectator sport and people are arguing about why you should support one side over another--which side is better--which side is more in the right than the other.

And then, there are others who claim a stance of neutrality is more appropriate.  "I don't have a dog in the fight.  Why join in?"

We must also add the voices of those who say, "Why the battle at all?  What is the need for the game?"

In this case, the game is a game of life and death; grief and destruction.

Yesterday, I sat on the porch of a house built in the 1860s.  A pastoral visit had turned into an entire afternoon of hospitality, fellowship, and revelation--revelation in the sense of getting to know you better.

The 89 year old man was a World War II veteran who participated in the Battle of the Bulge.  He has witnessed entire towns blown to rubble.  He couldn't help but feel for those who might have been in those towns.  "You have to think that those are men and women and children over there.  They are supposed to be the enemy, but they are humans.  There is no glory in war; there is only pain.  The politicians get us into war, and its the young people who suffer."

This man has had many years to reflect upon what he saw and heard and participated in.  Such wisdom tends to be missing in many of the conversations I hear about ongoing conflicts around the world.

I wonder what it is to be a pawn in someone else's game.  For that is what mostly tends to happen in such situations.  Civilians become pawns in the games of those who seek power--for is that not what war truly is?  Is that not what ultimately politics really is?  A striving for power?  A striving for control?  And if I have enough power, no one will mess with me--through power, safety and peace are achieved.

I remember an empire which expanded with the same sort of ideals (does the Pax Romana mean anything to anyone?).  It was an empire which eventually crumbled.  As do all of them.

All empires eventually crumble.  Historically, all nations eventually fade.  Maps are redrawn all the time.

And it will not change.  It simply won't. 

Because there is a part of us which desperately desires safety and control.  And the best way to ensure safety and control is to draw boundaries.  Within these borders, I am safe.  And to maintain that safety, I must be strong.  I must be powerful.  I must be willing to defend those borders, and if expansion of those borders offers me more opportunity to be safe, then so be it!  And if I show the slightest amount of weakness, then my safety is diminished.

Power and safety.  Hamas.  Israel.  The pawns: the Palestinian people.  The battle rages.  There is no glory.  Only pain.

And there will be only pain for generation after generation after generation. 

Unless something can diffuse that which dominates the human heart.  Unless something can turn us away from the hunger for power and safety.

Oh, we try to put all sorts of treaties into place.  And we always appeal to self-interest, but self interest leads straight back to power and safety.  All the time.

What can break us out of such a thing? 

Christianity offers a path--a path not based upon power and safety but upon powerlessness and risk.  It centers upon Jesus who, though being full of the power of God--God incarnate--did not choose equality with God as something to be exploited, but He gave up that power to empty Himself on the cross.  He died to reconcile the world unto God AT GREAT RISK!

What does that mean?

Jesus died for us while we were still sinners.  He died for us and offered us forgiveness before we even asked for it.  He reconciled us to God while we were and still are unlovable.  Why?  Why would He do such a stupid thing?

Because it is contrary to power and safety.  It's contrary to the nature of our own hearts.  If God can die for us and love us while we were sinners; if God can give up power and control; if God can risk it all on us to love us when we were unmerciful; if God can show that He has already given His all for us; then that can change our hearts. 

I remember reading The Cross and the Switchblade many years ago.  I can remember a powerful moment when an evangelist spoke these words to a gang banger, "You can cut me into a thousand pieces, and every one of them will scream, 'I love you.'"  At that point, one of a couple of things will happen.  You will cut the person to pieces regardless and continue on your merry way, or you will be forced to consider why it is someone would willingly offer themselves up for you.  How can someone face death and destruction so willingly?  How can someone allow another to inflict pain and suffering without seeking power and safety?

If someone takes the time to contemplate, the Gospel begins to take root.  The Gospel begins to show a different avenue to power and safety.  It's the route to love and risk.  You still may be killed.  You still may be subjugated.  But you have no need of power and safety because you know of something better--something infinitely more powerful and something infinitely more secure.

It's still very easy to jump back to the default.  I mean, I know if someone were going after my family and children, I wouldn't hesitate to use power to bring them to safety.  That default position is very, very strong.  But I hope I wouldn't demonize the one antagonizing my family.  I hope my heart has been at least changed that much by the Gospel.

That Gospel, I believe is the hope for the world.  For Israel.  For Hamas.  For the Palestinians. 

Don't ask me to be a cheerleader for any side in this conflict.  Don't ask me to be neutral.  Don't ask me why folks just can't get along.

They can't until sin is confronted.  And the only remedy for sin is the Gospel.  And the Gospel commands me to be on both sides and against both sides at the same time.  And to pray like hell for peace.