Cain & Martin -or- The Genesis of Reformation

Martin Luther's neurosis was guilt and forgiveness.  He was paranoid over his own sin and the condemnation he felt before the face of God.  He obsessed over the search for adequate penance that would gain him forgiveness.

At the time, the Roman Church taught that it was the broker of the forgiveness Luther sought.  The Church told Luther to pray so many prescribed prayers, to flog himself, to fast and to buy indulgences.  The Church told him turn from marriage and worldly possessions to join the monastic orders, so that he might be perfect as his Father in heaven was perfect.  The Church told him to do many things.  Still, Luther was not satisfied.  Martin scoured the scriptures to find the answer to his worry, his dread.  Finally, he read Romans 3:19-28:  "For 'no human being will be justified in his sight' by deeds prescribed by the law for through the law comes the knowledge of sin" (v. 20).  And he realized that everything from the 10 Commandments to the prescription of prayers and indulgences only served to remind him of his guilt.  Then, "For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (v.23).  And he realized that before God's righteousness, no human being could stand except as a court defendant.  Then, "...they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith" (v.24).  And he realized that everything hinged on the work of Christ.  Jesus was not just a defense lawyer or co-defendant or character witness or scapegoat--Jesus was the Judge that came down from the bench to stand with the guilty.

The Cross alone wiped away all of the sins of the past.  But more than that, Jesus gave the chance for life, for new life.  In sin, we die, and in Christ, we live.  It is Jesus within us (by the power and work of the Holy Spirit), which gives us a new lease on life, so that sin does not take everything from us.  What blessed joy that the sentenced criminal is given a life of freedom instead of confinement or death!!!

This idea started a reformation--the Reformation.  It is a fitting name, since it applies also to the reformed criminal that is supposed to come out of our human "correctional facilities."

On this Reformation Day, as I was thinking of all of this, I thought of the story of Cain and Abel.  The story is an...unlikely Reformation text.  At least, I have never heard anyone link that story to the Reformation.  And yet, I think it is the perfect story.

You remember that Cain murdered his brother Abel.  You can read the story to discover the details, the motive, etc. (Genesis 4:1-16).  I would like to focus on the punishment.  But first note that the commandment against killing had not yet been given.  This second generation of humans did not even know that murder or death existed.  And so, it was Cain's guilt after the fact that made him realize the horrible thing he had done--the law, and guilt, give us knowledge of our sin.

Cain's punishment was that his work would be futile and he would be a fugitive on the earth.  When he planted, the ground would produce no yield.  And he would be forever homeless, a wanderer.  Perhaps this is where the saying, "No rest for the wicked" comes from.  In a culture that lives by the motto: "An eye for an eye," Cain should have been sentenced to death himself.  Indeed, that is what Cain asks for, saying to God, "...I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may kill me" (Gen. 4:14b).  God virtually shouts "No!"  And God puts a mark on Cain, so that whomever he met would know that if they killed him, they themselves would be cursed.

I find it interesting that we Christians often consider this Mark of Cain to be part of the punishment.  In the story, we somehow see death as a mercy, and that God punishes Cain by making him to live on.  Do you realize how messed up that is?  When I read the story, especially through the lens of Luther and the Reformation, I see the Mark of Cain as an act of mercy.  God was trying to preserve Cain's life.  Even though Cain had to face the consequences of his murderous act--to leave his home and his vocation--the Great Judge could not bear to take the life of his human, "adopted" son.

Cain was given a life of freedom.  And although he lost his former life (vocation, home, family, etc.), he went on to build another life.  In fact, if you read the next bit of Genesis, you will find that Cain went to Nod, married, had children--and he started civilization!!!  Scriptures say that Cain went to Nod, "away from the presence of the LORD" (v.16).  And yet, God still worked through Cain to spread life upon the earth--life that was safe and protected and full in the beginnings of human civilization!  Perhaps Cain tried to flee from God's presence, but it would seem that bidden or not bidden, God is present.

So, for me the story is about guilt, yes, but also forgiveness.  Where others may call for our death, where we ourselves may wish for death, God gives us life.  God even gives us a newness to life.  We are freed from our old sinful selves in order to go on and do great, or at least good, things.  (And isn't every good thing great?)

The Church is full of sinners.  The Church itself is sinful.  We, the Church, are Cain.
Luther's struggle with the Law, helped him to uncover some of the corruption that was eating away at the Church.

But God marks us with a mark that preserves our life.
We are marked with the Cross of Christ--in ashes and in water and in oil.
Despite our sin, God gives us life and the chance to go out and do good things to spread life throughout the earth.
The Church is also marked with the Cross.  And yet the Church is commissioned to spread the Gospel of Life.

And with that mark, just like Cain, we as individuals and as the corporate Church experience a reformation.
God re-forms our lives.
God re-forms us.
May God continually re-form the Church.

Amen.



For further thought or discussion:
1. Cain's jealousy revolved around worship, and his perception that Abel's offerings were more pleasing to God.  Worship, particularly the Sacrament of the Altar and the role of leaders in that worship, were some of the contentions of the Reformation.  How might comparing these stories help us understand both scripture and the Reformation?  What can we learn about our worship today?
2. We get from the Cain and Abel story the question: "Am I my brother's keeper?"  I find it interesting that Cain was really interested in keeping track of his brother when it came to comparisons and who was more pleasing to God.  But then, when Abel was in trouble, the response was--not my problem.  Are we our neighbor's keeper?  What is the line between judging and helping guide our neighbor along the Way?  Was Martin Luther judgmental toward the church?
3.  Cain's guilt and punishment seemed to throw him into despair.  Although he did not seem to consider suicide, he hoped that someone would kill him (vv.13-14).  When we feel guilty, we are often thrown into despair in the same way, which causes us to hide our sin or to lash out at others or to cut ourselves off from people and life.  How does God react when we are thrown into despair?  How does God help us?  How can the Good News give us hope?
4.  Civilization is built upon a murderous forefather.  Obviously we are still being reformed.  Discuss.
5.  The Gospel approach to infractions upon the Law is different to the approach of the governments of this world.  This story, and its link to the Reformation may help launch a discussion about our correctional facilities in the United States.  Take a look at the ELCA's proposed social statement on criminal justice.
rha

"Who're You Gonna Call?" -or- Halloween: The Holy Day Christians Forgot

"Your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise.

O dwellers in the dust, awake and sing for joy!

For your dew is a radiant dew, 

and the earth will give birth to those long dead.
Come, my people, enter your chambers,
and shut your doors behind you;
hide yourselves for a little while
until the wrath is past.
For the Lord comes out from his place
to punish the inhabitants of the
earth for their iniquity;
the earth will disclose the blood shed on it,
and will no longer cover its slain."
-Isaiah 26:19-21

In my opinion, this is the quintessential Halloween scripture.  After all, the image Isaiah paints here is an image of zombies clawing up from their graves, and ghosts coming to haunt the living.  Meanwhile, we flee to the safety of our homes, locking our doors behind us and asking ourselves, "Who're you gonna call?"

I love Halloween.  It is my favorite Christian holiday.  (And it is a Christian holiday--even its name screams Christianity: all HALLOW's EvEN, or the Eve of All Saint's Day.)  I love Halloween because I love that feeling of fear that comes from watching a scary movie or reading ghost stories or seeing a host of scary costumes roam about the streets at dusk.  Halloween is a time when we can be scared and still feel safe.  Just as a roller-coaster brings us safely to the brink of our fears of speed or falling in an enjoyable way, in the same way Halloween allows us to face other fears in our soul without falling into total terror or despair.

Yes, I think Halloween is a time when we can externalize all of the fears that haunt us the rest of the year.  For example, the fear of evil.  Even if we don't believe in demons or ghosts, we might all agree that evil exists and that we are vulnerable to evil things happening in our lives--the thief in the night, the  attacker in the dark alley, the angry dog in our neighborhood, or the bully at school.  The figures of Halloween exaggerate these dark figures, and yet at the same time help us to feel bold before them.  Halloween gives us a catharsis for our fears.

Perhaps the biggest fear that Halloween allows us to face is death.  Skeletons, ghosts, monsters, vampires, zombies, demons...the common fear in all of these is death.  (I will let you make your own analysis of Justin Bieber, Hannah Montana and Superman costumes, though the first two in this list are just as frightening to me--the death of culture, maybe?)

The thing humans fear most, at least in our culture, is death.

We fear dying.  We fear losing a loved one in death.  And on Halloween, we surround ourselves with images of death in such a way that they no longer hold power over us.  This, friends, taps right into the heart of the Good News.

All Saint's Day is when we remember all those who have gone before us, who now rest in God.  It is a day on which Christians celebrate the lives of the saints.  And it is a day on which we celebrate God's mightiest deed--for we trust that God has gathered the saints in eternal life, just as God has promised.  All Saint's Day is about celebrating the victory that God has won over our Old Enemy, Death.

Ancient Christians believed that the light and power of goodness on All Saint's Day made All Hallow's Eve a dangerous time--because all of those demons and monsters and evil spirits knew that their power would be gone on All Saint's Day.  And so, these malevolent forces would freak out and do as much damage as they could.  People started dressing up in costume, either as saints or as demons in order to protect themselves.  If you dressed as a demon, then you could walk amongst the evil spirits safely--you were incognito...and since you were one of them they wouldn't harm you.  Or if you dressed as a saint or an angel, the demons would steer clear of you, because they knew they couldn't beat you.

We have left behind these superstitions.  And yet the message remains.  Halloween and All Saint's Day are like the story of our baptismal life.  While we are in the world we walk through dark valleys, and we wait for the day when all will be light.  If you have died, you are with God and protected in God's Kingdom--you have reached All Saint's Day.  But if you are still alive and on earth, then there is still darkness and strife and temptation and evil--you are still only in All Hallow's Eve, waiting for daybreak.  And yet, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them light has shined" (Isaiah 9:2).  On Halloween we remember that when Jesus Christ is with us, we have nothing--absolutely nothing--to fear, not even the Grim Reaper himself.  Christ is our light in the darkness.  Christ is our shield and portion.  Christ is our guardian and guide.

So let's go back and read Isaiah again, now that the light of Christ is shed on the scriptures for us.  All of a sudden, those zombies aren't zombies at all.  Isaiah says: "O dwellers in the dust, awake and sing for joy!"  In the light, the people coming up from their graves are not zombies, but the people of God who are resurrected on the last day!  We, friends, are the dwellers in the dust.  Ash Wednesday teaches us that we will all die, and to dust we shall return.  And here Isaiah is telling us that on that day, we will rise and sing for joy--because God will restore our lives and we will live eternally.

The Cross was scary (understatement).  But the darkness of death and hell was vanquished when dawn broke on Easter Sunday.

On Halloween, we are reminded of God's action on Good Friday and Easter--especially how it applies to each of God's saints, that is, to each of us.  As the earth dies back and cold winter approaches,  as the days get shorter and the nights darker, we need to be reminded of God's promise of warmth, light and life.  That reminder, for those with ears to hear and eyes to see, is Halloween.  Halloween, the most wonderful time of the year, when the whole gospel is given to us in one fell swoop!

O, may you taste the delight of fright this All Hallow's Eve.  And as you get spooked by all the things that go bump in the night, call to mind the One that is always by your side, the One who can overcome every evil, the One who can change death into life--Jesus Christ.  He is the light of the world.  The light no darkness can overcome.

Thanks be to God!


P.S.--Another good Bible story to share with your family on Halloween is the story of the Gerasene Demoniac (see Mark 5:1-20).  [Note: Read the story like you would a ghost story around the campfire, complete with voices (and yell loud when it calls for it, to startle your audience!).]
It is a story in which Jesus has command over evil, and he uses his power to restore a man to life.  Possible questions:
1. Why were the people afraid of Jesus, so afraid of him that they asked him to leave their neighborhood?
2. What happened to the demon-possessed man after Jesus healed him?
3. What are we called to do when God helps us through scary times in our lives?
And for further Discussion:
- Have you ever felt scared?  What made you frightened?
- Think of a time when you were scared.  What or who made you feel better?  Why?  How, then, can God help us when we are scared?

The Grace Found in a Prank -or- God is a Trickster

Last weekend, some seminary friends visited from Chicago.  The occasion was my installation as pastor of St. John’s Lutheran Church, Toluca, IL.  I gave them a tour of the parsonage, my home.  It was a busy day with family and church family, so I didn’t notice how they tended to linger in various rooms.  After they departed, I found that they had...altered things.  They left notes in my office--one saying they had also deposited a snake for me to find...or to find me, I suppose.  My bed was short-sheeted.  My remote controls for the TV and DVD player were missing.  Books were rearranged on the shelves in my library.  I am still finding things out of place.  I had been thoroughly pranked.

I am not one much for pranks.  I am neither good at nor fain to prank others, and I usually don’t enjoy being pranked.  But this time, I am reluctant to admit, I loved it.  And it got me thinking about pranks, and their goodness.  

The pranks my friends played were not hurtful or mean, per se.  A couple were rather more annoying than the others, but it is nice to be annoyed from time to time.  The pranks were meant to be gestures of love--believe it or not.  By that I mean, these friends took the time to mess with me, and they trusted that I would react in good humor.  

As I reflect, the prank has the following properties and effects:

1. In pranking me, my friends gave a great deal of attention to me, my habits, and my stuff.  They targeted, and moved, those things that were of especial importance to me.  

2. In pranking me, my friends showed their trust.  They trusted our relationship, that it would survive despite some minor annoyances and material adjustments.  They trusted my personality, that I would see the humor in their gestures and wouldn’t fly off the handle.

3. In pranking me, my friends crossed the boundaries of solitude.  They studied and interacted with my things, and with my habits.  They studied my environment closely.  They also crossed over into my vulnerability.

4. Finding that I was pranked, I was able to laugh at my friends and their ridiculous sense of humor, but also I was able to laugh at myself.  I was able to laugh at my own discomfort with having my stuff messed with.  And I was able to laugh, imagining how gleeful my friends must have been as they did all of these things.

5. The pranks were the lingering presence of my friends long after they had left.  The prank is evidence that someone has been here, someone has come so close to another individual that their life is altered, both in the superficial way, and in a more profound way.  And finding something new amiss each day, made me think of my friends...and miss them...and appreciate their visit.

6. Pranks, at their best, create an enjoyment of life, particularly the mundane parts of life.  And, again at their best, pranks allow us to laugh at the most despairing and dreadful thing in life: our all too human vulnerability and lack of control over the world around us.  That laughter helps reconcile us to our all too human condition.

I suppose I could go on, but I will leave off on the analysis of the prank for now.  In any event, meditating on the pranks of my friends, I started to think about how God is a prankster.  I wrote this some six years ago for an assignment in preaching class.  I use the words “prankster” and “trickster” synonymously.  The point, of course, is that God is a trickster that not only wants to remind us of our powerlessness and vulnerability (that all of our plans and considerations and categories are in vain), but God wants to remind us of this in ways that will make us comfortable with being who we are...comfortable with being what God created us to be: merely human.  And lastly, the Prankster does what the Prankster does in order to invite us into the joke--into joy and relationship and interaction.  Every prankster loves a partner...every prankster loves it when the one being pranked gives it back a little (of course, no one likes someone who pranks too well.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, here it is:   

I have decided that God is, at heart, a trickster.

And this is a biblical view of God.

Christians ought to reclaim that word…”trickster.”

God is not a scoundrel, though he associates with them.

God does not lie, cheat or steal, though he hangs out with the crowd that does.

In fact, if God were not God, none of us would believe; who would trust anyone who reputedly 
      socializes with rascals, sinners and scoundrels?

God loves pranks:

Remember when Jacob stole the blessing of his brother?

Esau ought to be given what is his; who does Jacob think he is?  Yet God favored Jacob.

Remember when God crowned David, the progeny of a woman who prostituted herself off to her  
       father-in-law in order to produce a child and heir?

Yet David, Solomon and, yes, even Jesus came from the bold, morally questionable 

cleverness of Tamar.  (No wonder we need to tell ourselves stories of Mary’s purity!)

God is a trickster, all right.

Not the sort that plays jokes on the powerless just for a mean laugh.

Not the sort of trickster that feels mirth in the suffering of others.

Instead God is the trickster that laughs at the haughty and the dreadfully powerful.

God revels in the unexpected and the paradoxical.

God’s possibilities are so much greater than our narrow expectations that most of life becomes ironic…
      well, from our perspective.

God experiences joy when we figure out that God doesn’t play by the rules of our game.

How ridiculous!  A king born in a cow’s food trough?

Later the baby-man would say: “I am the bread of life.”  We eat the flesh...maybe the food trough  was 
      a good choice after all.

Go play with God; enjoy the mischief of the deity!