The Gospel of Inclusive Love - May 29, 2016

Galatians 1:1-12

The first step of moving is purging – sorting through drawers and boxes to figure out what goes and what we no longer need and can be given away or tossed. My general rule of thumb is that if it hasn't been used or even looked at for a year, much less twelve, then it's time to get rid of it. Let's just say that I think Doug and I have been responsible for an overall increase in the City of Moscow's recycling tonnage.
Among the things I found in the boxes I dug through was a collection of letters. Most of them were written to me by my mother (and sometimes my father) while I was in seminary. I read them all before I put them in the recycling bin. There was seldom anything major in them –

mostly a listing of who Mom had seen at Bridge Club or what trip they were planning. I also found letters from one of my seminary classmates after she had left school and I was completing an extra year. I had forgotten we had written to each other during that year.
The letters reminded me of a forgotten era and a lost art. They weren't that old – about thirty years, but with the advent of email and social media few of us correspond in that way anymore. It was a slower time. I do appreciate the ease and speed of our more modern ways to communicate, and a piece of me grieves a bit for the old ways.
One of the risks of email, and worse yet Facebook or Twitter, is that of firing off a snippy comment in the heat of the moment that only leads to more hurt feelings and misunderstandings. In the days when you actually had to address an envelope, lick a stamp, and take it to the mail box, you had time to cool off and rethink the wisdom of your words. Some letters need to be written – and not mailed.
Paul's letter to the Galatians begins so abruptly that I wonder a bit whether he later regretted sending it. His other letters include a long paragraph or two of thanksgiving. To the Romans whom he did not even know, he said, "I thank my God . . . for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed throughout the world." To the Corinthians, who fought and divided, he said, "I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus." And those are just two examples. But to the churches in the region of Galatia, Paul has no words of thanksgiving.
Paul begins this letter with a statement of his commission, a reminder of Jesus' sacrificial death, and then he fires off, "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel." That snippet could fit into the 140 character limit of a Twitter post, though Paul had no such limitations. Paul is bold, clearly upset, indignant even, with these churches. Something has happened to so upset him.
The crisis is one which underlay much of the development of the early church and which I've mentioned recently based on our readings from the Acts of the Apostles. The issue was the relationship between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. At its core was the question of whether Gentiles had to become Jewish in order to be Christian? Did the men have to be circumcised? Did all Gentiles have to obey the Jewish dietary restrictions?
A Council held in Jerusalem of the major church leaders, including Peter and Jesus' brother James, had said, "No." Gentiles did not have to become Jewish in order to be Christian. The men did not have to be circumcised. No one had to obey the dietary restrictions. And yet apparently even James and Peter had reneged on that decision. Somebody or bodies have come in to the region of Galatia preaching a different gospel than Paul had taught or the Jerusalem Council had directed. We can only guess that the Jewish Christian leaders who had made that decision later found it difficult to give up the customs which had held the Jewish people together over years of persecution and trouble. Paul was irate.
Remember, Paul had been raised as a faithful Jew. He had lived with the traditions. He knew how important they were. Paul also knew that new life in Christ changed everything. He had been knocked to the ground by the power of the Risen Christ and thrown out the trappings of the old faith he had guarded so jealously to embrace a radically inclusive gospel. This new Gospel was open to Jews and Gentiles. Christianity was a brand new thing, not an adaptation of Judaism.
Paul recognized that this new faith relativized even the most precious parts of religious authority and practice. Gentiles did not have to be circumcised. They could eat pork and shellfish. When people suggested otherwise Paul had a fit and fired off his bold and critical letter because to suggest one had to be Jewish in order to be Christian threatened the very integrity of the Gospel. "I am astonished!" he tweeted.
In May of 2007 Doug and I attended the installation service for the new pastor at the Unitarian Church. Looking through the bulletin before the service began, we nudged each other. The congregation was to charge their new pastor to, "preach the truth as we see it." The wording seemed a bit odd to us, but when the time came the congregation dutifully read, "Preach the truth as we see it." A few moments later a denominational official spoke and she said, "That should have been, 'Preach the truth as YOU see it." Indeed, though the other version is probably more honest. Most congregations would rather have their pastor preach the truth as they see it, except, of course, there are about as many versions of the truth as there are people in the congregation.
Paul preached the truth as he saw it, a truth he had received from God, and when the Galatians strayed from that truth he told them so in no uncertain terms: "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ." He then asked, "Am I now seeking human approval or God's approval?" His answer was, "No way. I preach the truth as I see it – based on a revelation from God."
It is a challenge that faces every preacher. In my heart of hearts I want to keep everybody happen. It pains me deeply when people are unhappy. Over the years I have sometimes avoided preaching the full truth as I see it. Believe it or not, there are things I have not said, out of fear that if I said them some people would be mad or even leave the church.
And I know my calling is to preach the truth, based on my best study of the Bible and deep prayer. I have tried to do that. I do not expect everyone to agree with me. Each of us understands God's truth in a slightly different way. I hope my words have challenged you to think more deeply about the truth and then come to your own conclusions.
Soon you will receive a new pastor. I hope you will charge her to preach the truth as SHE sees it – and that you'll mean it. And as you carefully consider her words and your own understanding that you be true to the radical Gospel of love that comes to us from Christ.
We don't worry much anymore about whether Gentiles have to become Jewish in order to be Christian. We DO wrestle with what it means to include everyone in the church. Sure, in the service of baptism we affirm, "the church is open to people of all ages, races, and nations." It's easy to say and much harder to extend the good news to people whose lifestyle and orientation we don't understand, to people of all social and economic levels, to those with physical and mental handicaps.
And our task is to carry the message of Christ's atoning death to everyone. Maybe under a new pastor you will develop a social media ministry in which the Gospel is proclaimed in Twitter messages or Instagram photos. Or perhaps you will reach out into this community in ways I can't even imagine. However you do it, I pray you will not desert the gospel of inclusive love but will be so filled with grace and peace that all will know they are embraced by God's love.