by Rev. Art Wiese
March 3, 2004 -- (Midweek Lenten Series)
Sermon Text -- Mark 14:1-9
I don't know that the Bible was the first thing that got packed into my great-grandfather Wiese's trunk; but it was the first thing to which Martin Luther pointed as he attempted to explain the characteristics that define the Church. Of course, he wasn't just speaking of the written word of scripture, but also the living word of Christ's risen presence in our world today and the spoken word proclaimed and taught week in and week out in countless congregations throughout the world. "Wherever you hear or see this word preached, believed, professed, and lived," writes Luther, "do not doubt that the true holy catholic church, 'a Christian holy people,' must be there, even though their number is very small." The fact is, however, that the Bible is the most visible form of God's word. It is packaged and portable, able to be explored and examined, ready for reading and for remembering. Wherever God's people have traveled, they have taken God's word with them. The Hebrews, wandering in the wilderness, carried the tablets of God's law with them in the ark of the covenant. The scrolls of the Old Testament, carefully written and then copied by hand, were distributed to the Jewish synagogues so that they could be read and studied by the people wherever they were. And the gospels and the letters of the New Testament, first composed and then circulated among the churches to be read when the people who gathered for worship, were eventually collected into books, so that they might be preserved for future generations.
As I said, I don't know if the Bible was the first thing that got packed into my great-grandfather Wiese's trunk; but, I do believe that it was there among the essential items for his trip to the new world. How else do we account for the existence of all the German, Norwegian, Swedish, Dutch and other language Bibles that we have on the shelves of our church libraries or among the collections of family heirlooms, which have been handed down to us from the pioneering members of our families? It's not because we can read them. Even if we have studied the foreign language in which they are written, very few of us can make our way through the script in which they were printed. But they weren't intended for us. They were purchased for our forefathers and our foremothers in the language that they loved, so that they could read them, they could hear them, they believe them, they could live them as the center and the heart of their faith. That, of course, was due to one of Martin Luther's real strokes of genius. As the reformation began, one of the first among his priorities was translating the word of God into the language of the people. No more would it be the private possession of a few studious priests who had mastered the languages of Hebrew, Greek and Latin. Instead, it would be available to everyone who was able to read in whatever language they happen to prefer. Nearly five hundred years later, that work continues as the Bible is translated into more and more languages, so that God's word can one day be available to all God's people.
The fact is that the Bible remains central to our faith. In the constituting
documents of the ELSA, we call it the "inspired word of God and the authoritative
source and norm of all [our] proclamation, faith and life." Does that mean
that the Bible will answer all our questions and solve all our problems? Probably
not. But it does mean that the Bible is the place where we begin when we want
to know just exactly who or whose we are. In the passage we have just heard,
Jesus is nearing the end of his earthly story. He is on the verge of his arrest,
trial and suffering. As he nears Jerusalem, he finds himself in Bethany at the
home of Simon the Leper. As they are having dinner, a woman breaks open a jar
of expensive ointment and pours it over his head. Where she comes from we do
not know. Where she is going we do not know. Who she is we do not know. All
we know is that she is there and she shares from her jar. It doesn't take long
for her presence to get noticed. Others begin to grumble. They scold her for
wasting the ointment. It could have been sold for the benefit of the poor. But
Jesus comes to her defense. "She has performed a good service for me..She
has anointed my body beforehand for its burial..[and] wherever the good news
is proclaimed,.what she has done will be told in remembrance of her." With
that, she receives a place in the story. We still don't know her name, but she
is a part of the gospel, and her story becomes a part of Jesus' story. As Jesus
is about to do, the anonymous woman has made a great sacrifice. As Jesus is
about to find out, such sacrifice is often greeted by scoffing and mockery.
And as Jesus will come to know, beyond the suffering there will be vindication
by a power greater than all the others have available to them. It is a story
that they share, this unknown woman and Jesus, a story of sacrifice, suffering
and validation, and it is the story to which we belong.
The reason God's word is central to our faith is because it tells the story
to which we belong. The story has four main elements: 1) it is the story of
Jesus, 2) it is the story of others, 3) it is the story of life and death, and
4) it is the story of the whole creation. In her little book on "the Marks
of the Church" called "Signs of Belonging," Luther Seminary Professor
Mary Hinkle comments on the modern fad of "speed-dating." She explains
that during an evening of "speed-dating," couples talk with one another
for eight minutes, then move to a new partner for another eight minutes until,
by the end of the evening, they have met with ten potential dates. At the end
of the night, the proprietor provides contact information and distributes phone
numbers according to the wishes of both parties. She says that what interests
her about the process is the time allowed for each conversation -- eight minutes.
She says, "Think about walking into a strange church: you know a thousand
things after eight minutes. If you are there for a worship service, you know
whether you can find the place for the service, whether anyone is glad to see
you, whether you will like the music, whether anyone is your age, color, or
class, and whether that matters for how you will be accepted, whether the flow
of the service will be familiar or foreign, and on and on. Eight minutes into
a church 'date,' most of us will have a pretty good idea whether we could ever
feel like we belonged in a new place, with the people there." We belong
in the word of God. We belong there because it is Jesus' story, and Jesus' story
includes everyone. We belong there because it is the story of others. It includes
grumblers and scoffers and mockers. It includes the presence of evil and the
reality of suffering. We belong there because it is the story of life and death,
and living again. It is no trivial fairytale, but the life-changing story of
Christ's suffering, death and resurrection. And we belong there because it is
the story of God's entire creation. No one group of people holds exclusive rights
to the story. It doesn't matter whether your great-grandparents read it in German,
in Norwegian, in Swedish, in Dutch, or in something else, or in nothing at all.
It is the story to which we, many people like us, and many people very different
from us all belong, because it is not just our story. It is God's story.
Amen.