Here's the link to the audio file for the sermon, recorded during worship:
http://www.box.net/shared/ifyj5d2l9q
The manuscript I worked from follows below.
The Sixth Sunday of Easter; May 09, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Acts 16: 9-15
Psalm 67
Revelation 21: 10, 22-22:5
John 5: 1-9ff *
“DOWN by the river? STANDING UP with the Lord”
--} There are some commonalities between this morning’s readings from Acts and John—but they might not be readily apparent.
• Both stories take place “down by the river.” [That always has a number of connotations that go along with it!]
o Paul leaves the city and literally goes “down by the river;”
o Jesus meets a man at the pools of Bethsaida—or Bethesda—outside Jerusalem’s “Sheep Gate,” if not a river, at least a place known for “healing waters.”
• Both stories feature a “conversation”—between a “believer” and one who presumably is about to be.
• Both stories seem to conclude with a “standing up” kind of thing.
o The man Jesus heals literally “stands;”
o Lydia is baptized and then invites Paul and his group to stay with her household—surely a kind of “standing.”
• Both stories seem to feature “conditions” that get “liberated.”
Acts tells us that Paul travels to the Roman city, Philippi, in Macedonia. This is more than just a Roman town, it’s an old Roman outpost. Philippi was a significant metropolis along the way Roman troops passed between the interior of the empire and the far Eastern reaches. Not only a bustling city, Philippi was one of the last substantial Roman cities going out to the battlegrounds and one of the first places of Roman significance on your way back home—if you survived. It was one of the place where “everything Roman” didn’t have to be exported in the first place. Roman life was deeply entrenched here; but this was also a city with a significant number of Jews—who had been displaced from Israel. These Jews also had a significant community here, who for the most part, lived relatively well with the Romans. Philippi would naturally have significant places of worship for the Roman gods—the usual temples and shrines set aside for people to honor the gods; but also a number of synagogues. And at least archeologically speaking, we know these synagogues included a number of Jews, Roman converts, and “God-fearers.”
So it seems odd that Paul would “bypass” known places of worship to go outside the city walls looking for “a supposed place of worship.” I don’t know what Paul may have had in mind; but what the scriptures say is that Paul went “down by the river” and encountered a group of women. He spoke to them, and the end result is that we’re told Lydia—who is a worshiper of God—and her household were baptized.
This is not just a winning moment for the women-folk. The story seems to shape a legitimate place for Christians—both in the MIDST of Jewish AND Roman religious expression but somehow being “outside” the political and religious squabbles of the day. Luke’s story is seemingly offering a glimpse at what certainly would have been the friction between “all things Roman” and Jewish collaboration. That the Christian community is found making such headway—quietly, intentionally, successfully—says a lot. And while Jewish collaboration and friction with the Roman way of life may have been at the heart of the city’s politics, rather than be assuaged by the politics of the religious and cultural pluralism, a community of God-worshiping believers finds a way to emerge!
But back in Jerusalem, while John’s story offers a different kind of plot, there are similar dynamics. Jesus encounters a man who has been waiting his turn beside well-known healing waters for some 38 years. We shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that persons with ailments relied completely on their families; and often, when it became too difficult to care for them, family members often abandoned ailing people. The likelihood is high that this man was abandoned; yet even so, you don’t survive for 38 years without someone helping you. At the very least, someone had to come and bring him food! But these and other questions are seemingly trumped by Jesus—in particular, by his willful demonstration that he is Lord of the Sabbath and has the authority of God.
Unlike other biblical stories, exactly “where” this story took place is something modern scholarship believes it knows for certain. The pools of “Bethesda” [pictured on your bulletin insert] are located in the north-eastern part of Jerusalem’s Old City; and while literally the ground has changed much in the two centuries since, scholars believe this was the location of John’s story. Known as the “Sheep Gate,” the Bethesda pools were located in conjunction to one of the places animals were brought for sale and preparation for sacrifice. While the “pools” were probably created as a way of collecting and preserving rainwater, they made a ready resource for cleaning and purification. Additionally, tradition offers a couple of different views of what happened with the water. Some accounts indicate the pools were known for a purple or reddish color—easily attributable to the processing of the animals. But it was also believe that for healing, an Angel of God came down and “stirred up the waters,” and that the first people into the “stirred up pools” were healed—no matter what their ailment.
Notice that in John’s story, Jesus seems to thwart the legitimacy of both traditions—not requiring sacrifice for forgiveness and not waiting for the candidate to get into the waters to effect healing. In this story, only Jesus’ invitation to the long-time ailing man is sufficient for healing—the man doesn’t need to answer. And again, in the face of religious, social, and political assumptions and practices, Jesus boldly steps up with the Kingdom of God in hand.
What happens after verse 9 is that the religious authorities accuse Jesus of breaking Sabbath law by “healing” this man. There is not—and never has been—a law prohibiting “healing” on the Sabbath. The act that “breaks” Sabbath observance is the healed man “carrying his mat.” Notice that even on this count, the religious authorities make no attempt to arrest him or to sanction him in any way. They rightly perceive Jesus as a threat, not because he’s running fast and loose with Sabbath laws and ritual, but because Jesus declares his own authority to forgive sins—acting on God’s behalf. Still, surprisingly, it isn’t because of his religious views or his religious acts that Jesus is a threat—it’s his political liability.
Jesus is expressing (rightly) the views that the Jewish leadership should ordinarily hold. But in the face of the Romans, for the Jewish leadership to openly buy into this kind of radical theology would easily make them public enemies of the Roman agenda. Jesus is sought after by the religious authorities because he threatens the complicity of the Roman Peace.
So today’s stories both offer us a glimpse of what it means to be “believers” and “worshipers of God.” It is STILL far more likely that if we take up with God, the world around us is going to see us as “funny.” It’s not our believing in miracles that gets us into trouble—everyone likes a good miracle. Healing is always popular—read Matthew, Mark, and Luke, where nearly every time Jesus heals someone, EVERYONE is amazed and crowds follow him! The trouble comes because good religious principles often run counter to political and social realities.
“Peace on earth and good will toward human beings”—Jesus’ announcement refrain—doesn’t square with our well worn “rules of military engagement.” Or, ever try, “God does not kill?”—it flies right in the face of our conversations about just war theory, capital punishment, or abortion. Or how about “Jesus as the great healer?” Shouldn’t that presuppose a healthcare system where sick or not, all people get the benefit of consulting a physician; or the ability to get a child’s teeth checked out by a dentist; or ensuring eyeglasses for a grandchild who needs them? Where everyone who needs it—or not—gets cared for; where hospitals and nursing homes can be life-sustaining for EVERYBODY—and no one gets “left out” for 38 years because no one’s willing to pick up the tab.
But while it’s just about enough to make you mad, it’s instructive to see what Jesus and Paul do in our scripture stories. They encounter people in need; they speak with them and administer care. And they turn at least in two cases of being “down by the river,” into moments where people are able to stand. I believe this is what RESURRECTION means for all of us. Those down by the river—and elsewhere—get the chance to stand. Sometimes it me who’s “down by the river,” and sometimes it’s people I see around me. There’s hope for us all—down by the river. It’s called, standing with Jesus.
So today, we’re sending our women out with stoles, and the hope that it’s true for the rest of us. Because in the Christian community, we see people standing with Jesus. Our hope is that maybe we can show others what standing with Jesus means for all of us. So whether you’re leaving with a stole or not, isn’t God in Christ calling all of us to stand with Jesus?—Today, and every day.
--+ Christ is risen—indeed! AMEN.
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