You Just Don’t Get It
Rev. Rob Brink
April 27, 2008
First Congregational Church of Wauwatosa
1 Cor. 9:19-22, Acts 17:22-31

I love being a dad. Right now, being a dad means being the second coolest person on the planet. Mom comes first, of course, but that doesn’t bother me a bit because she deserves it. When they come running toward me, arms outstretched, it’s the greatest thing the world. Fortunately, I’ve worked with young people long enough to know I better enjoy it now. Because sooner than I can blink they’ll turn thirteen, when I will change from second coolest person on the planet, to stupidest human being on the face of the earth.

It’s not their fault. Parents just don’t understand. My Grandpa didn’t get the Beatles, and my Dad didn’t get Metallica, and I surely don’t get Justin Timberlake. It’s just how the world works. The silver lining is that somewhere around or after the college years, parents’ stock starts to rise. Slowly they begin to look less and less like lumbering idiots, until one day, if you’re lucky, a little light goes on and you say, “Wow, they’re human beings. And they’re kind of smart in their own way. Who knew?”

Unfortunately, the same process doesn’t apply in the realms of politics and religion. Why bother to have a discussion when you can play gotcha? The political end of this as shown by the presidential race is so obvious that I won’t bore you with it, but religion is no better. Religious radio makes a pile of cash year in and year out with a very simple formula. Take something someone else said, run it out to its absurdest possible conclusion, and then shame them for it.

Even in seminary, it’s not much better. At least there, they make you cite your sources. But that didn’t stop me from setting up a straw man argument or two. Much easier to oversimplify someone else’s work and then knock it down than to reach inside and understand, especially when time is short and your grade is on the line. A straw man paper, well constructed, and submitted on time earns you a moderate grade, but to step inside the mind of another and see the world through their eyes? That could take a lifetime.

“Don’t you understand,” they say, “A woman has a right to choose.” “No you don’t understand,” they respond, “It’s a baby, not a choice.” “Don’t you understand,” they say, “Your evolutionary theory undercuts the foundation of our faith.” “No you don’t understand,” they respond, “Your blind faith undercuts all science.” “Don’t you understand I’m trying to save you from hell?” “No, you don’t understand that your aggressive questions and arguments make me feel like I’m there already.” And round and round it goes.

You even find it in scripture, especially the Old Testament, when the poets weep and the prophets shake their fists at the sky. “Where are you, God? How long must we endure? Why do you not answer your people? Do you not see what they do to us? Do you not hear our cries? Do you not understand?” And God replies, “No, you are the one who does not understand. Did you create the world? Can you order its ways?”

The world sits in this uneasy tension, until the coming of Jesus, when God puts on flesh and becomes one of us. The theological word is incarnation, fully God and fully man, without confusion, change, division, or separation. In practical terms it means two things. 1. God fully understands what it is to be human. 2. When we look at Jesus we see God as God really is. But those are just ideas. How does play out in real life?

If we follow Jesus, then we become incarnational too. As God entered into our life, so we enter into the lives of others. This is what Paul was talking about when he said, “To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews… To the gentiles I became like gentile to win the gentiles… I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some.” Paul entered into the lives of the people he served, connected with them, and spoke their language.

His speech from the book of Acts shows this clearly. He’s a Jewish scholar, and those writings that have come down to us are full of references to the Hebrew scriptures. But in this speech before the Greek intelligentsia, he abandons all of that and chooses instead to open with a comment on their polytheism. If this were religious radio, he’d be blasting away with both barrels, telling them in no uncertain terms that those who worship false gods are destined for a fiery end, but he doesn’t do any of that.

He says, “I can see by your many statues that you are very religious. So religious that you even put up a statue to the unknown God, just to make sure all your bases are covered. Let me tell you what I know of that unknown God.” And then he proceeds to quote their own songs and poets to them, showing them how their own culture and beliefs point toward a God bigger than a mere idol. Thousands of years of Hebrew scripture, culture, and history, the story of the chosen people of God and he doesn’t mention a second of it. He puts himself aside and becomes for a moment, one of them, to reach them on their own terms. If he were speaking today he’d be quoting Justin Timberlake and Rhianna!

But just because he puts himself aside for their sake doesn’t mean he puts Christ aside too. We live in a world of political correctness. And you graduates are heading off to college are going to be in the very heart of it. Political correctness that says you can believe whatever you want as long as you keep it to yourself. That’s not what Paul did, and that’s not what Jesus did either.

Jesus did not become incarnate and then “go native”. He didn’t try to fit in, didn’t abandon his calling. What makes him so compelling is how completely centered he is in within himself and his purpose. He exists to do his Father’s will, and the rest of the world can either help him or kill him, but that’s what he’s going to do.

For generations, philosophers talked about the unbridgeable chasm between God and humanity. God is so holy, perfect, and pure that he could never come down into the dirt and the mire. It would be beneath his dignity to dirty himself by entering our world.

But Jesus showed us exactly the opposite. There is nothing that God will not stoop to. There is nothing below his dignity, if doing it might heal us. And in becoming one of us, God does not become broken. We become whole. It’s as if he jumped into a cesspool and instead of getting dirty, his presence transformed the cesspool into a spring. No amount of evil could overcome his goodness. No amount of darkness could put out his light. Everywhere Jesus went, things around him began to become what they were always mean to be… whole.

Want to heal the world? Start listening. Build relationships. Learn to speak their language. See the world through their eyes. Then, when the time finally comes to speak, you will have words they can hear, ideas that resonate. Not only that, I guarantee you will learn something new from them about the God you claim to follow. If you listen, they will teach you about God. Amen.