Annual Conference is over for another year. And I survived. Yeah, I confess, it’s not my most favorite time of the year. Not the event I look forward to the most. But it comes with the territory. Because I am an ordained clergy person of the United Methodist Church I am required (yes, required) to attend annual conference annually - hence the name. It’s a business meeting. A family reunion. It’s a meet and greet. A time for worship and the annual question of your call to ministry and service. It’s a pep rally and motivational seminar. It’s all that and much more. And much less. For good or for ill it is the functioning of the institution of the church to gather together and fulfill obligations and shore up the edges.
The theme this year was “See All the People.” You know, from that old rhyme thing we did as kids, with our fingers. “Here is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors and see all the people.” And then we’d wiggle our fingers around like the people in the pews were worms in a bucket, fish bait for the task of catching fish for Jesus. See all the people. It was a call to a renewal of an evangelistic fervor, but to do it in a way that includes, that doesn’t ignore, doesn’t overlook anyone. See All the people.
We’re a church wrestling with All these days, which people we can see, which people we can include, which people we can allow to lead us. We’re not the only ones wrestling with this. Not the only church, not the only institution. But we’re the ones called to pay attention to the wriggling bait bucket of humanity and see all the people. So it is especially poignant this year.
The added irony for me this year was the context of the Conference. We met, again, in the Indianapolis Convention Center, a wonderful facility in the heart of the downtown. A massive structure able to accommodate a variety of events all at the same time and not feel like we’re bumping up against one another. Yet, because we were told all week to See All the People, I purposely strolled out of the boundaries of our corridor to see what else was going on in the building. On the opposite end of the Convention center - sixteen miles away if you walk it (well, it seemed that much to me anyway) was Pop Con. Other cities call this a Comic Con, but in Indy it is Pop Con, popular culture. Comic book worlds, yes, but also Manga and Anime, that uniquely Japanese approach to graphic arts, and movies of various genres, the video gaming world and other cultural icons. I walked through superheroes, some of whom have gone to seed a little bit, through Sailor Moon and her cohorts, stormtroopers and game characters. They were young, and they were loud and they were friendly and excited and enjoying themselves tremendously.
Plus, because I’m cheap, I borrowed my wife’s parking tag for the IUPUI Faculty and Staff parking lot and walked the few blocks south to the convention center. And in so doing I passed by the park that had been converted to be the ending festival point for the Pride Parade that was scheduled to come through downtown Indianapolis at the same time as we were ordaining the next group of clergy to serve in our churches. And if I was underdressed for Pop Con because I wasn’t wearing an elaborate costume of many layers and accessories (some of the biggest swords you’ve ever seen, for example), then I was way over dressed for the Pride Festival and certainly no where near colorful enough to be a part of those who gathered there. Again, they were young and loud and friendly and excited and enjoying themselves tremendously.
As I sat in worship with my crowd, older, quieter, not quite as friendly or excited, (except for those who were supporting the ones to be ordained) and I wondered if they were enjoying themselves. Tremendously, or even just a little. The camera would scan the podium during the sermon and the ritual and the singing, and the august dignitaries assembled there didn’t really seem to be expressing joy to me. At least in comparison to those a few corridors away. And I wondered if we were somehow to mix this crowd with either of those other crowds what would happen? Would we see all the people? Or would we overlook them, turn up our noses at them, shake our heads at them?
And then I wondered, forgive me but I wondered, which crowd Jesus would come and join. Which party He would attend. Of course, He would come to all, did come to all today. But if He was in the flesh again for today and limited by the physicality of space and time, then where would He be?
Forgive me. All of that seems a long way from what I’m supposed to be dealing with in this space. We are just barely into our summer series called Meet the Bible. And I’m trying to respond to your questions and comments about the Bible in these weeks. Last week we dealt with the problem of interpretation. In future weeks we’ll look at specific puzzling bits, like the whole book of Revelation, or the troublesome passages we still wonder about today, and some general themes from the Bible that keep coming back again and again.
But this week I’m supposed to be dealing with questions concerning the Old Testament vs the New Testament. Specifically the image of God in the Old as a God of war and Judgement and the image of God in the New as a God of Love and Grace. But also the question was raised about how the Old Testament leads to the New, prophesies in the Old that prefigure the New. Which I heard as a question about the purpose of the Old Testament in light of the New.
Truth be told, I can’t really resolve all that stuff in one blog post or one sermon. I can only point out some things, can only make some hints, some stabs in the dark. But I thought the best place to approach a response to both of those lines of questions would be from Jesus. Jesus talked about scripture a lot. In some places He was affirming what was said, in other places He seemed to be changing, or deepening or raising higher what was said. But He loved the scriptures and wants us to love them too. They define Him, He seems to be saying. And can define us too. If we can see it, see all the Word.
Luke 4:14-21 Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. 16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: 18 "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." 20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
Fulfilled, He said. Today this scripture has been fulfilled. What does that mean? Well, we could debate that word for a long time, and many have over the years. But certainly there is a connection, a continuation and an application. This is not just a word on the page, in the scroll to be read and pondered. But this is a living Word, a Word enacted, a Word incarnated in His flesh and then because we agreed to be followers of Him, in ours as well.
Today this Scripture has been fulfilled, doesn’t mean that the work is done, but that the Word is set loose in the world. That Good news is alive and at work, that freedom and healing can be found, is made available to the ones who need it the most, the ones the world thinks least deserving and least likely to receive it.
Certainly there are those who believe that the God depicted in the Old Testament would be roaming the streets downtown today pronouncing judgement and condemnation. Would be closing doors and assigning shame and blame. But the God of the Old Testament that Jesus knew would be proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor. How can that be? How can there be judgement and mercy both? How can there be a call to righteousness and an offer of grace both?
Jesus spoke of judgement too. We forget that. But His judgement seemed to be reserved for those who refused to see all the people. The ones who wanted to cast judgement themselves, who wanted His job. In the end, Jesus didn’t see a disconnect from the God He knew and the Messiah He was. He was sent to fulfill the Word that was given, a Word of righteousness and grace. He was sent to see all the people. You too. And me. Thanks be to God.
Shalom,
Derek
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