November 26, 2023

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24; Matthew 25:31-46

[F]or I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’

This reading is a touchstone of Christianity. It explains in just a few sentences what it means to love your neighbor. And in the same way, it explains what it means to love God.

‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’

These people, those we are told are righteous, they have no idea what they have done. No idea how it connected them with God. They know that they did certain things in life, but that link between caring for those around them and caring for God, they have not made that intuitive leap quite yet. But it was still a good thing.

‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’

The not so righteous are equally surprised. They do not see the connection either. Perhaps they were thinking, if God stood before us, of course they would have helped. Of course, they would have cared. But nothing so dramatic took place and therefore they did nothing. They did nothing.

This story from the Bible is to guide us toward caring. However, I point that message out reluctantly. The righteous in this story did not know that something good would happen to them if they helped others, and yet they still did so. And the not so righteous suggested that they might have done something for God if only they had known. They might have done something if they got something out of the bargain.

From my way of thinking, this is a problematic way of looking at the world. That I will do good things if it will help me. That I will care for others if it will place me in a good light.

The teachings of Jesus underlying this parable are to love God and to love one another. But helping others as a mean to an end, as a way of justifying ourselves before God, that does not seem to be what Jesus is saying, at least by my reckoning.

You are supposed to love God, not love what God might give you. You are supposed to love your neighbor as yourself, not love the good will or even the good karma you gain from doing so. The Golden Rule is not a means to an end, it is the end in itself.

These notions of loving our neighbor and doing for the least of all God’s children, these are what I would describe as core convictions of following Jesus. And for this morning I want to draw a distinction between on the one hand being a follower of Jesus and on the other hand being a Christian. Not that I want to create any negative association with that word “Christian.” Not at all. But I would say that defining oneself as a Christian is not the same as acting like a follower of Jesus.

Think about what it means to have a core conviction. To hold something to be ultimately true. To take something on faith as central to who you are. Now, let us distinguish between having a such a bedrock conviction from something else entirely: having an opinion.

I will confess from the outset that I do not use these words interchangeably. A conviction is something worth fighting for, while an opinion is barely worth an argument. People fight about opinions all the time. That does not mean they are truly worth that struggle.

Why? Because opinions change. They change naturally sometimes. And at other times, that have to be cast aside. Cast aside when reason suggests that we need to do so. Cast aside when they prove to be misguided or toxic. Cast aside when our opinions contradict or hinder our convictions. Convictions matter, opinions do not. An opinion can reflect a conviction, of course, but we can also try to justify an opinion with a weak claim to one’s convictions.

When I distinguish between a follower of Jesus and a Christian, I am trying to differentiate between convictions and opinions. Calling oneself a Christian is basically an opinion about oneself. It is a word that can contain any number of clustered opinions that shift and transform from time to time, from place to place, from situation to situation. Those opinions can change as we change or the world around us changes or our fortunes change.

I think the same distinction can be drawn when it comes to politics. The words “Republican” and Democrat” have various opinions attributed to them. One believes this and the other that. But notice how that identity has changed. In the 19^th century, if you called yourself a Democrat it meant that you probably supported immigration, but you did not support emancipation. If you called yourself a Republican, you probably supported emancipation, but you did not support immigration. Those were entrenched political positions in that timeframe.

Let’s be even more specific: Democrats supported Irish Catholics, newly settled in the U.S. and Republicans supported Blacks freed through the Civil War. “Supported” is a slippery term, however. That does not mean that every Democrat particularly liked Irish Catholics or that every Republican particularly liked Blacks. You can support someone because it is expedient for you. You can seek someone out as a political ally because it is necessary for winning elections. It was about numbers, not about affinities.

Think about how these political identities have evolved over the past 150 years. For example, Republicans became pro-business while Democrats became pro-labor union. More recently, Republicans have become socially conservative while Democrats have become socially liberal. That does not mean there are no pro-business Democrats or no socially liberal Republicans. It means that the opinions we use to define one political party versus another are not indelible pathways. We might call it an average of opinions that we round off to a handy label.

 

And the same could be said for the religious group known as Christians. What do you mean when you say “Christian”? Do you mean someone who is pro-life? Do you mean someone who does not want sex education taught in public schools? Do you mean someone who does not support equal rights for LGBTQ folks in our society? Is that what you mean or not what you mean? If you were to ask the average American, however, the term “Christian” might summon up such a list of socially conservative views.

As a congregation that operates under the Christian tradition, we might balk at such a limited understanding. But the fact that we might define the word “Christian” differently does not mean that others will embrace our more liberal definition. Conversely, some conservative Christians might turn around and claim that we do not belong under the banner of Christianity. For example, we do not recite the Apostle’s Creed on Sundays, which for some groups defines what it means to be Christian.

What exactly is a creed? It derives from the word “credo” meaning “I believe” in Latin. A creed is a list of what is held to be true within a religious denomination.

This past Thursday, I preached up the street at the Church of the Redeemer. After the sermon, we were called upon to recite the Apostle’s Creed. I must confess that I did not do so. I looked piously off into the middle distance without saying a word.

I will however recite it this morning for educational purposes. Please listen along and think about what you hear:

I believe in God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth;
And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord;
who was conceived by the Holy Ghost,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, dead, and buried.
He descended into hell.
The third day he rose again from the dead.
He ascended into heaven,
and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty.
From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Ghost,
the holy catholic Church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and the life everlasting. Amen.

Some of you might recognize the creed from past religious teaching or experience. But familiarity is by no means the same as agreement. Let’s delve into some of these words.

I believe in God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth.

What does this mean? God created heaven and earth. Did God make the world, or did it and we evolve into existence? Notice there is no nuance in the actual creed, but some people just quietly mutter along with a picture of the Big Bang and the slow road of evolution in their mind’s eye.

God is all powerful. So, does that mean if anything bad happens in the world, like a war or a hurricane or a famine, God wanted it to happen or allowed it to happen? That is a troublesome notion.

God is a Father, suggesting that God has a gender. So, if God is the Father, does that imply a mother out there somewhere? Is it even meaningful to apply the idea of gender to God? It might be too simplistic a description of God and too humanistic a way of thinking. And so, we might not have worded things in that way if we were to have thought it all through on our own.

But you do not get to debate creed. You just say it.

And what about heaven and earth? While we are obviously here on earth, is it necessary to believe in any sense of heaven? What sort of image pops into our heads when we think about heaven and earth?

And as for a creed generally, would you accept these notions about God as articles of faith, ones never disputed or questioned, such that you would be comfortable reciting them every Sunday? We do not do so, but who made that decision?

Now, what about Jesus? What does the creed say?

And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord;
who was conceived by the Holy Ghost,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, dead, and buried.

Jesus Christ, meaning Jesus the Messiah. Messiah in the Jewish tradition is not at all similar to Messiah in the Christian tradition. A warrior king come to save us from some form of oppression versus the divine presence of God sent in the world to save us? What do you believe about that?

And was Mary a virgin? No softballs this morning. Is that notion about Mary necessary to our understanding of Jesus? If Mary was not a virgin, would that make Jesus into someone or something else entirely? Again, how does that shape our faith in God?

We probably would all agree that Jesus suffered, was crucified, and was buried. What those words mean, however, might vary depending on the theology we hold about each and every word. Then comes the rest.

He descended into hell.
The third day he rose again from the dead.
He ascended into heaven,
and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty.

Even some folks who grew up in the Christian tradition might not think about Jesus descending into hell. This is known as the harrowing of hell. Jesus died and went down to literally raise hell, to raise up those who were destined for paradise. He broke open the gates and set suffering souls free. This is very obliquely hinted at in the Bible, but it is really more an external interpretation rather than a direct Biblical teaching.

And in heaven, Jesus would sit at the right hand of the Father. This is a bit of a puzzle for me at least, because if Jesus is inextricably a part of God, how exactly is he sitting next to himself? I realize that I am being painfully and annoyingly literal here, but I want to underscore why we do not have a recitation of a creed on Sundays. I did not make that decision, but I do not disagree with it either. Questions being asked in the pews are also being asked up in the pulpit.

To be clear, Unitarian Universalists do not expect any formulation of beliefs. You can sit out there in the pews believing every word of the Apostle’s Creed or not a single word of it. And that includes not believing in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. All up to you. However, to define oneself as a “Christian” these articles of belief are often expected. They are a given.

I once heard a Lutheran minister suggest that not everyone in the building needed to believe every word of the creed, as long as at least one person in the building believed those words. And that one person might be the minister. That all seems like clever word play, but it does not give me any confidence in the practice.

Which brings me back to my distinction between a conviction and an opinion. Is something a conviction or an opinion in this creed?

What if you believe there is a difference between God and Jesus? Many people who have called themselves Christian have made such a distinction. They believe that Jesus was like God, but not actually God. Some believed Jesus was a prophet like Elijah, someone who performed miracles and even raised the dead, but who did so on behalf of God and not as God.

And let me say this: if you believe something like that, or if you have absolutely no idea what to think about that, you are still most welcome to be here among us. There is no creed here.

Now, what if you were to believe in all of this, every word of what is in the creed, except that you do not believe in life after death? What if you do not believe in heaven or in hell?

That set of seemingly divergent beliefs is not uncommon among people who call themselves Christians. Such beliefs go back to the early roots of the Abrahamic tradition long before the time of Jesus. People believed in God, but they did not believe in life after death or the idea of eternal salvation. By this logic, you get one shot at life and then you die.

And let me say this again: if you believe something like that, or if you have absolutely no idea what to think about that, you are still most welcome to be here among us. There is no creed here.

Many churches have messages on their websites or even on their outdoor signs that say, “All are Welcome.” For the most part, I agree with that sentiment. But there is a problem with this idea of all being welcome. It might be interpreted as suggesting that all behavior is welcomed. You can do whatever you feel like inside this building. And that is not true.

While I firmly believe that there should not be any creed etched into stone here, I think there is an expectation of behavior. Behaviors that are mostly implicit and that should perhaps be made more explicit. So, let’s think about what that code of behaviors would look like and sound like.

For example, if someone were to start treating the staff like servants, like second class citizens, like someone not worthy of respect, I would take issue with that. Not okay.

Similarly, if someone were to treat another congregant badly, yelling or harassing them, that would be more than inappropriate. Not here, not ever.

If someone acted as if they were better than others or suggested that certain other people, or types of people, are worse than others, that would be unacceptable. That is completely out of bounds.

Someone might claim I am being inconsistent here. How can you have no fixed beliefs and then claim that there are rules that must be followed? And I would respond that I never said there were no rules. There are rules. There are rules that exist because we are seeking to be a congregation dedicated to following Jesus. And there are some basic rules for doing that.

The ancient name for such a set of rules is covenant. Once you get comfortable and decide to join our merry band, you are expected to act in certain ways. And in my experience, for the most part, people in this congregation have been doing that as they try to follow Jesus. Not all the time. Not perfectly, but who is perfect?

What is in this covenant? Treating people with dignity, with justice and fairness and compassion. Allowing others to be free in their faith and being responsible in our own search for truth and meaning in this life.

And to act within our own sense of conscience. Conscience, not opinion. Conscience, not preferences. Conscience to me implies conviction, not personal expression.

Finally, I think we all must be expected to care. To care for one another. To care about this church. To care about our community. To care about the world, its people, and its creatures. That all seems to me to be implicit in our community and I have simply made it explicit this morning.

In case you were wondering where I came up with most of that list, it is my interpretation of the Seven Principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association, a list of ethical practices more so than a catalogue of beliefs. Unitarians typically focus on actions more than beliefs, in case you ever wondered why I harp on behavior so much and less on beliefs. That is because many beliefs exist only on our lips rather than wandering around in our lives.

I do not place much stock in beliefs because they are like opinions. They can be put on like a cloak and discarded like last year’s fashions. That is also why I do not round off my religious sensibilities to the label “Christian.” There are plenty of people claiming that name who do not act like I would expect. To be frank, I am ashamed to be associated with some of them.

So, I prefer the description “follower of Jesus.” If we focus on what Jesus wanted us to do rather than on what interpretations of Jesus suggest we should believe, I think we are far closer to the kingdom of God and the expectations of Jesus than any identifying label will take us.

For me, calling yourself something does not mean you are acting like something. To be honest, I put little faith in what others claim to believe or what they call themselves. Instead, I look around at what they are doing, and not doing. That tells me everything I need to know about whether they are trying to follow Jesus. Not that I expect perfection. But a little effort might be nice.

Amen.