Scripture text: Isaiah 58:1-12
It is at the heart of
nearly every popular story ever told. From the great myths of ancient Greece to
the songs of the skalds in the Dark Ages to today’s spectacles of stage and
screen, it is in many ways the fundamental story of our time: Good vs. Evil.
We hear that trope so often that we presume it’s nearly everywhere, even when it isn’t. One of the reasons, for instance, our politics have become so hostile and polarized is because we (both sides) have assumed that the other side are more than just the opposition. They are EVIL. Not just a different perspective, different ideas, with the same goal of doing what is best for our country. No, they are evil and they must be stopped (and even destroyed) at all costs.
Obviously, this sort of black-and-white thinking has its detriments. But it’s also so commonplace that it’s hard to overcome. We see it everywhere, even when it isn’t. Another example is that we often think of the Bible and the great story of God’s interactions with our world is also a great story of a struggle between good and evil, God vs. the Devil.
Except that Satan shows up as a character in this story only a tiny handful of times and is mentioned in passing only a few additional times. You could probably collect all the places the Bible talks about our great enemy on a single page of paper. That’s it. “Good vs. Evil” isn’t really what the Bible is about.
But there is great conflict in the Scriptures, a great debate between two sides. But the fascinating thing is, those two sides are not good and evil. It’s two different ways of seeing good.
The central conflict of the Bible is good vs. good. Wrap your brain around that for a minute.
In this corner, you have
what I would call the “moral” side of good. It is focused on self-improvement,
on BEING good. You go to church. You pray and read the Scriptures. You avoid
vice and sin. You obey the commandments. No stealing. No murder. No adultery.
Those things are bad for you, so you avoid them.
And in this corner, you
have what I would call the “ethical” side of good. It is focused on improving
others, on DOING good. You feed the hungry. You welcome the outcast. You heal
the sick. You obey the commandments. No stealing. No murder. No adultery. Those
things hurt others, so you avoid them.
Do you see the
difference? They are different, but they are also both two perfectly legitimate
forms of goodness. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that if you looked at the
faith journey of each and every one of us, you would find both forms of good in
our own stories. Times when we were charitable towards others and times when we
sought to be pure.
But the Scriptures
definitely take sides in the debate between these two, arguing that one of
these is better than the other. And that brings us to our first lesson, to this
prophecy of Isaiah. This passage encapsulates this debate as well as any, being
among the best to show us what’s at the core of this.
It begins somewhat
oddly. God speaks of a rebellious people who “continually seek him and delight
to know his ways.” Wouldn’t rebellious people be turning away from God? But God
goes on to explain further. Yeah, you fast. Yeah, you’re in worship every week.
You’re being good, but you’re not doing good.
You’re turning piety
into a weapon, using it to puff yourself up and tear down others. Sure, you’re
keeping the letter of the law, but hardly paying any attention to the spirit of
it. You’ve made it all about you, how special you are, how righteous you are,
and haven’t spared a single thought for anyone else.
God then tells of what
he desires. Loosing the bonds of injustice. Feeding the hungry. Clothing the
naked. That, he says, is the fast he seeks. To do right by others. God
declaring that the “ethical” side is superior to the “moral” one.
Of course, we see this
debate elsewhere in the Scriptures also. We see it in the conflict between
Jesus and the Scribes and Pharisees. The Pharisees, as I have said numerous
times, were not bad people. They wanted to be good. The problem is they wanted
to be good only in themselves; to be pure, but not charitable. We also see it
in the letters of Paul, his conflicts with the so-called Judizers, those who
would demand absolute obedience to Jewish social and religious tradition as a
prerequisite to be a follower of Jesus. Again, worrying about oneself to
exclusion of others.
And we see it today. How
many sermons will be preached this morning in churches all over about how we
need to “get right with God” with no mention whatsoever of caring for the
less-fortunate, all of it being about how we need to do better at being moral
and upright? The debate goes on.
But it has a real impact of us. I’d even argue our salvation depends on it. But don’t misunderstand me. Our salvation does not depend on how we choose to interpret good, either as ethical or moral, but in how Jesus does. You see, if Jesus came down to earth and favored the moral side, we’d be in a world of hurt.
He would be upright and
virtuous, but he would never dare mingle among sinners. He would never dare
touch a leper or invite a tax collector to table with him. He would never let
his purity be stained by such things. He’d never rock the boat. He’d never
challenge the established order, and he’d certainly never die the death of a
slave on a cross. He’d live a nice long peaceful live and die of old age. And
odds are good we’d never even know he was here.
But that’s not what Jesus did. His whole life was dedicated to doing good, even and perhaps even especially when it would ruffle feathers of the morally upright crowd. He did invite tax collectors and prostitutes to dinner. He did heal lepers. He did the rock the boat and challenge the established order. And for that reason, they hung him on a cross to die the most humiliating death they could think of.
But it had to be that
way. It had to because it was how he would save us. Jesus couldn’t be an island
of purity in the midst of a sinful sea. That wouldn’t help anyone. No, he had
to take those sins upon himself. He had to become sin, impure, tainted, so that
he could nail those sins to the cross in his own body. He became immorality so
that he could take not his own sins, but ours, to the grave with him.
That, he tells us, is
the ultimate good. The best kind of good, to give one’s life for those that he
loves. That’s what he did. And he did not die unremembered or unnoticed. He
died a death no one could ignore because it was a death that saved us all. It
mattered for each of us.
A lot of our lessons
today talk about light. Isaiah mentions it and Jesus himself speaks of us as
the “light of the world.” We’ve all envisioned those texts as a city on a hill,
shining out in the midst of a dark night. Christ is that beacon because we saw
the good that he did for us. He calls us to do likewise. Not simply to be good,
but to do good for others. That is something people will see. That is something
people will remember. Just like him. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment