Sermon for Ash Wednesday

Preached at Water's Edge United Methodist Church on Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Scripture text: Revelation 2:1-7

Mainline denominations like ours (whether we be Lutheran, Methodist, or UCC) often approach the book of Revelation and its companions in Biblical apocalypse with much fear and trembling. We spend so little time on that which our more Evangelical brothers and sisters may perhaps spend too much. So when we approach a text like the second chapter of Revelation we may feel ill-equipped to address what it says.

But this is still Scripture even to us and in diving into God’s word there is nothing to fear.

On that note, it may prove helpful for us to acknowledge a couple of truths that are often neglected. The first is to say that there is not one single understanding of what the Bible says about the end times. We ELCA Lutherans, for instance, are amillennialists in our understanding, which is to say that we, at least according to our official teachings, believe that the rapture-tribulation stuff that is peddled by some churches is NOT how it will happen. We disagree with those churches that do and that’s okay.

The second truth is somewhat related to that. Different churches, different denominations, and even different Christians may look at the same passage of Scripture and come up with different meanings. It all depends on the revelation the Spirit chooses to grant for that person or persons. But we have a tendency to think of this as a modern thing, something that has come about recently and that the early church was much more unified.

It was not. The text assigned for tonight is John of Patmos’ letter to the church of Ephesus. That church, we know from Scripture, is one of Paul’s congregations and yet it is the apostle John (according to tradition) who now writes to them. One doesn’t have to do much study of Scripture to recognize that, while there is some overlap in their writings, the works of Paul and the works of John are not always in agreement with one another. Tonight’s passage is a bit like the Methodist bishop writing a UCC congregation to tell them how to do their business.

The irony of that has not escaped me as I stand here, a Lutheran pastor preaching from a Methodist pulpit...Well, at least I’m in good company.

But what does John have to say to Paul’s church and (by extension) to us? And what does it all have to do with the reason we gather tonight, the Church’s solemn day of Ash Wednesday?

Ash Wednesday is, of course, the first day of the season of Lent, a time in the church year when we dedicate ourselves to remembrance and repentance. It is a time of self-reflection and in that, I think we find our common-thread between all these different pieces. For what does Jesus (through John) counsel the church of Ephesus but to reflect on what they are doing and to remember what they should be doing. I can’t imagine a more fitting Lenten idea than that.

“I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers” Jesus says to the church. “I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name.” All well and good so far. The church has been proficient in flushing out heresy and has endured trial and tribulation from without (or perhaps from within, a common consequence of telling the truth to people who don’t want to hear it.)

It is probably not coincidental that Paul’s own letter to this church has a series of commendations to right and proper behavior, almost two full chapters of it. It would seem from what we now hear in Revelation that they have taken his advice to heart. However, there is a flipside to this emphasis on purity and righteousness.

“But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.” Jesus tells them. Uh oh. Not all that surprising. Zeal has its dangers, and the biggest of them is when we become more interested in being right than in being loving.

“Yet this is to your credit: you hate the works of the Nicolaitans.” Jesus then says. Well, I get the sense there’s a bit of sarcasm here in Jesus’ words. Why? Well, who are the Nicolaitans? “People of victory” is how that word translates from Greek into English. The ones who win (presumably at all cost). The ones who have to be right all the time. In a very real sense, I think Jesus is saying to the church “if you hate these people, why do you act like them?”

The church in Ephesus has become more concerned with being right than being loving. They’ve lost their way. Now, I wonder, is that a lesson for us here and now?

Of course it is. How many disputes rage across the church between this group and that group, each one convinced in their own minds of the rightness of their cause? “They’re not real Christians. They don’t believe the Bible.” No, they just don’t believe it in the same way you do. Not that it matters to those in the throes of those sorts of arguments. Their zeal for rightness has driven love from them and they divide themselves over and against their own brothers and sisters in Christ.

One of my seminary professors had a saying. “We are saved by grace alone, not by ‘right answer’ alone.” In our zeal, we can blind ourselves to Christ, forgetting that he is the one who brings about our salvation through his life, death, and resurrection. That shouldn’t surprise anyone when we cut ourselves off from one another, for where do we see Jesus most keenly but within our brothers and sisters?

Of course, that’s the other way this malignant zeal can manifest. Not merely in a theological debate, but in how we respond to those around us in our communities. How many times has the church turned its back on someone in need because they didn’t “deserve” our aid? Because they were sinners? Because they didn’t meet our ideal of proper behavior and decency? How often have we slammed the door in Jesus’ face?

And that is the great danger of all this. Cutting ourselves off. Blinding ourselves. Being most concerned with our own rightness and correctness, instead of keeping our eyes and our hearts open to see Christ within each other and in those around us.

Jesus tells us in Matthew that we find him in the “least of these,” often those least able to meet our exacting standards of piety and propriety. The poor, the abused, the alien, the stranger, those who different in terms of race, age, gender, language, or sexual identity, and perhaps most difficult of all, those who disagree with us. Are we more concerned with sitting on a high horse of self-righteousness or are we willing to get into the muck of life with them? Because that’s where Jesus is.

Ephesus forgot that and Jesus called them out for it. Are we to be guilty of the same? On this Ash Wednesday, as we come forward in repentance, seeking God’s mercy, I pray the answer will be no. Amen.