To eat or not to eat

 

As I’m sure you know, Jesus’ first followers were Jewish, and accepting Gentiles – non-Jews – into the early church was somewhat fraught. Ought those early disciples to follow the Jewish law in its entirety; must they be circumcised; how should they proceed? St Luke tells us, in the book of Acts that there was such a kerfuffle that they had to hold a special Council about it, in Jerusalem. After a great deal of debate, and speeches from people like Peter, who reminded the assembly that God had shown him that Gentiles, too, were welcome, and from Paul and Barnabas, telling about the people they had met on their travels, James, the Lord’s brother, who was at the time de facto head of the Church in Jerusalem, said: “Therefore I have reached the decision that we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God, but we should write to them to abstain only from things polluted by idols and from fornication and from whatever has been strangled, and from blood.” It is, of course, debatable whether Paul would really have agreed to that, given the sort of views he is propounding in our reading today, but hey.

The Letter to the Romans is thought to have been written around 57-58 AD, or CE if you prefer that terminology, and the book of Acts not until, probably, the 80s or even 90s, so who knows how accurately his views have been represented? It doesn’t really matter, of course, but what does matter are his views in the passage we’ve just heard read.

The issues are not about the ethical or health considerations of vegetarianism, but it’s all about relations between the Jewish and Gentile Christians. You see, about ten years earlier, Emperor Claudius had expelled the Jews from Rome, and of course many who left would also have been Christians. The Church in Rome was then, for some years, exclusively a Gentile church. But in 54 CE, Claudius died and Nero took over as Emperor, and the Jews came back. And, of course, during the time they were away, the church had grown and evolved, and the Jewish Christians didn’t like the changes at all! First of all, there was the vexed question of eating meat. In Rome, as in other cities at the time, meat was normally sacrificed in the temples and then sold to the butchers to resell to the public.

As you know, the Jews need their meat to be kosher, killed properly according to Jewish dietary laws, and, above all, not to have been offered as a sacrifice in a temple to pagan gods. In a community where there was a large Jewish population, that was not a problem, since there would be a kosher butcher, from whom they could buy their meat. But there hadn’t been any Jews in Rome for several years, and so there was nowhere to buy meat that they could trust – there was no way of knowing how and where it had been killed when you bought from a street stall. Gentile Christians weren’t particularly bothered by this; they didn’t keep kosher and anyway, those pagan gods weren’t real, so what did it matter? But for the Jews, this was dreadful – they couldn’t possibly eat meat when they didn’t know where it had come from, so they would stay vegetarian, and everybody else should, too!

Similarly, the Jewish Christians were shocked to find that the Gentiles didn’t observe the Sabbath as they thought it should be observed. For them, the Gentile Christians simply weren’t honouring God as they should. They must have thought they were adhering to What The Bible Teaches

But, how does this affect us? We may or may not choose to eat meat, and some people do make a moral issue out of it, but it’s not a sticking point. And I do know, from personal experience, there can be a dichotomy between those who observe Lent and, to a lesser extent, Advent very strictly and those who don’t really observe those seasons but who are fairly strictly Sabbatarian. But really, they aren’t particularly major issues today.

But we do have our major issues, don’t we? From whether or not you should shop on a Sunday, have sex before marriage, get divorced, drink alcohol, be gay…. When I was a young Christian, I wondered what on earth Paul was talking about when he said “It is for freedom Christ has set us free” when Christianity seemed to be hedged about with all these rules and regulations, and people said you were being a “bad witness” if you didn’t keep them as strictly as the Pharisees kept their petty rules. Christianity, it seemed to me, may have freed us from the Jewish law, but it imposed extraordinarily heavy burdens on one, just the same.

Of course, leaving the rules behind is extremely scary. Paul refers to those who want to stick to the rules as “weak in the faith”, which I imagine came as a big surprise to the Jewish Christians who heard his letter being read. Surely, they were the strong ones? They were the ones who were doing it right. I don’t think the meme “God said it; I believe it; that settles it!” had been coined back in the day, but that is certainly what they were thinking! And yet, to Paul, they were the weak ones, clinging to a framework of legalism and not allowing themselves to be truly free in Christ.

And I remember being utterly terrified when I first began to let go of all the evangelical rules and regulations, and to try to trust Jesus alone. What if I got it wrong? Wouldn’t I be condemned as a dreadful sinner?

It is really, really hard to accept that we have been saved by Jesus and don’t need to cling to the Bible as a rule book, but to read it more as a love letter from God. Mind you, I’ve noticed that people tend to find whatever they look for in the Bible – if they want a God who condemns those who aren’t exactly like them, or who do things they’ve been taught are wrong, then they are going to find that condemnation; if, on the other hand, they go looking for a God who loves each and every one of his children more than words can tell – then that’s who they will find!

But the thing is, whether we are weak like the Jewish Christians were, or like I was, or whether we are what Paul would call “strong”, we haven’t to despise one another. Paul writes, in a modern paraphrase:

“Don’t put anyone down for being timid in their faith. Welcome them into the congregation, and don’t give them a hard time for being hung up about things that cause you no concern. You who are strong must not make fun of those who play it safe; for the fact is that God has extended a welcome to them too, and the Lord is quite capable of getting them to stand where they should without your help.”©2002 Nathan Nettleton LaughingBird.net

We are all God’s children. We may choose to express our faith in different ways. I may reckon that a certain behaviour is acceptable, and you may disagree. Or vice versa. But we haven’t to fight over it. In fact, more than that, we haven’t to let our behaviour put someone else off. If someone believed, for instance, that it was really wrong to paint a room on a Sunday, but you were perfectly happy to do just that once you’d been to church, Paul says elsewhere that you mustn’t let your freedom lead your friend into doing something they believe is sinful. If they can’t help you with your home decorating on Sunday, don’t try to make them. Arrange another time that suits both of you! And maybe, if the thought of your decorating really upsets them, don’t do it!

Paul points out that those who eat meat are doing it for God’s glory, to prove that the pagan gods have no power, and those who don’t, in that context, are also doing it for God’s glory, as they are refusing to allow themselves to be contaminated by possible contact with paganism. Both sides have valid points, and if your neighbour at church lunch refuses the meat course, don’t try to persuade them otherwise, and perhaps don’t eat meat yourself that day.

C.S.Lewis said, in The Screwtape Letters, that if we took Paul seriously, you would expect to see your low church neighbour genuflecting and using incense and so on so as not to lead their high church friend into irreverence, and the high church one would refrain from such things so as not to lead the other into idolatry! But we are not all so tolerant!

We will not, I think, talk about those so-called Christian Nationalists who appear to believe that only white people can be true Christians – but, while we believe they are misguided, to say the least, we would want to welcome anybody who turned up at our church holding such views, and accept them and love them and hope to change them through love, not through argument.

Similarly, I know some churches – not, thankfully this one – seem to think gay marriage is wrong. “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” they chunter. All the same, I bet that if Adam and Steve – or Eve and Donna, for that matter – were to rock up to that church next Sunday, they would be warmly welcomed and find themselves on the coffee rota before they had time to blink! And we know that the whole issue has caused major heartache and even split some churches, so we will be sensitive and not flaunt our own views in front of those who don’t share them. The whole tenor of Jesus’ teaching, after all, is about treating other people – whoever they are, whatever their views – with the greatest possible respect and love.

The point is, that whatever we do or don’t do, whatever we think or don’t think; whether we treat the Bible as a rule book, or as a love letter; whether we believe we have been set free in Christ, or that Christianity is a life full of constraints; whatever we believe, how can it possibly matter against what Christ has done for us? God’s love for us in sending Jesus is so immense, so totally beyond our understanding in its immensity, that our own beliefs are insignificant. We are not saved by our faith, but by what God has done! Yes, we need to express our willingness to be Jesus’ person – but the Good News isn’t, although I was taught to believe it was – it isn’t “You are a dreadful sinner”. The Good News is “You are loved”. Amen.

As we forgive...

 

I have to admit that the gospel passage set for today is not one of my favourites. I find it gives a very odd picture of God, as though God is only waiting for us to feel the slightest bit of resentment against someone as an excuse not to forgive us.

Well, that isn't like the God I know, so why did Jesus tell this story? We know from elsewhere, the Lord's prayer, for instance, that we need to forgive before we are forgiven, but why? What difference does it make to us?

Well, let's look at the story in context.

The story comes in a selection of Jesus' teaching, including the story of the lost sheep, and the bit where Jesus says what to do if someone sins against you. You may have thought about this last week: first of all you talk to them privately, then if they won't listen, you take someone else along for moral support, then you take the matter to the church, and if all else fails, you, quote, treat him as though he were a pagan or tax collector, unquote. Although given how Jesus was prone to treat pagans and tax collectors, loving them into the Kingdom of God, I don’t think he actually meant to shun them!

But then Peter comes along, probably in a tearing rage, and wants to know how many times you have to forgive someone. I wonder who'd been getting on his nerves! It sounds like someone had. And Jesus says, not just seven times, the way the Jewish law says, but uncountable times. Seventy times seven; you'd lose count long before you got that far. And then he tells this story.

So, what does this story mean?

I think we are supposed to see ourselves as the person who owed the king a fortune, and the other servant is someone who has hurt or upset us in some way. I suppose that Jesus is saying that no matter how much someone else may offend us or hurt us, it's nothing compared with how much we need God's forgiveness.

But then, what is forgiveness? In this context, it is described as letting someone off a debt. But, like everything to do with Christianity, there is a lot more to it than that. It is more than just allowing us not to pay the penalty for what we have done wrong. It has to do with healing and reinstatement and generally being made whole.

Because sin isn't so much about what we do – although that too, of course - but also about who we are. Let's face it, most of us here today would not go out and deliberately commit a dreadful sin, or not most of the time, anyway. But we know that deep down we are not whole. We are not perfect. We need God's grace, and his healing, and his love if we are to come anywhere near being the person he designed us to be.

For me, confession isn't so much a matter of saying "I'm sorry," but more a matter of facing up to who I am: yes I am the kind of person who would do this; no I'm not perfect; yes, I do need Jesus. And, of course, so does everyone else.

As I'm sure you know, most people who commit crimes seem to do so out of their own inadequacy. That doesn't excuse them, or anything, but it does help to explain it. Because we, too, are inadequate people, although possibly less inadequate than someone who goes round knocking old women on the head.

Everyone needs God. You do, I do, those who attack people simply because of the colour of their skin do. Because it is only through God that we can become whole people. And, just as we need to accept ourselves for who we are, so we need to accept other people for who they are. In fact more so, because while we can decide we need to change, and we can do something about ourselves, with God's help, we cannot make that decision for others. Other people must make their own decision. We can't force someone else to become a Christian, or to stop drinking, or lose weight, or come off drugs, or anything else. We can, of course, ensure they do no harm to others, and we can offer them opportunities to change, but we can't force them to.

You remember the story of the Prodigal son, I expect. The son who asked for his share of inheritance and went into the world to have some fun, and when he was in the gutter decided to go home again. And the father ran to meet him, and put on a massive celebration for him, and had obviously been longing and longing and longing for his son to come home again.

But the father couldn't make the son come home. He had to wait until the son chose to come home of his own free will. What's more, the son had to accept that his father wanted him home again. He could have said "Well, no, I don't deserve all this," and rushed off to live in the stables, behaving like a servant, although his father wanted to treat him as the son he was. The son had to receive his father's forgiveness, just as we do.

And don't forget, either, the elder brother, who simply couldn't join in the celebrations because he couldn't forgive his brother. How dare they celebrate for that lousy rotter! I don't know whether he was crosser with his father for having a party, or with his brother for daring to come home. I feel sorry for him, because he allowed his bitterness to spoil what could have been a good time.

And that is exactly what happens to us when we do not forgive one another. We allow our bitterness to spoil what could have been a good time with God.

So how do we forgive others? Sometimes it just doesn't seem possible that we can ever manage to forgive someone. But we must, or we can't make any further progress in our journey towards wholeness. Well, the only way I have ever found that works is to pray about it. God is a terrific person to pour all your bitterness and anger out on to. God can take it. And if you are really honest with him about your feelings, some surprising things can happen. You might find, for instance, that it isn't really the other person you are angry with, it is you. Or perhaps it's God himself you need to forgive, and that can be difficult, too.

I remember, years ago, being very angry with God after someone I loved had died in an accident – God could have prevented the accident, God could have healed her, and so on. I remember saying to someone that I hoped I managed to work through my grief soon because it would be nice to be able to pray about something else for a change!

The thing is, when we come to God and admit we are angry, or hurt, or upset, by someone or something that has happened, God doesn't tell us that we mustn't feel like that, or that we are very wrong to feel like that, or even that this isn't how we're really feeling. God isn't like that. God enters into our pain, and shares it. Oh, it might be pointed out that you are indulging in a fit of self-pity, if that's what is happening – all too easy, don't you agree! – but he does sympathise and he does listen.

And as we go on praying, something happens. We let go of the self-pity – that is always the first to go – and we gradually work through the anger, and the pain, and the sorrow, and, next thing we know, we have forgiven whoever it was we needed to forgive.

The acid test for me is if I can ask God to bless someone who hurt me, and mean it. And could I see them at a Communion service and wish them God's peace? It's surprising how often I can, if I have prayed.

So, then. We need to forgive other people, we need to forgive ourselves, and occasionally we need to forgive God himself before we can receive God's forgiveness. It isn't that God won't forgive us - heavens, God's forgiveness is as constant and unremitting as all of God's character – it is that we can't receive God's forgiveness if we are full of bitterness and pain and anger. There's no room to let God in if we are too busy holding on to our own feelings.

The debtor, in Jesus' story, hadn't really grasped what the King had done for him. He hadn't hauled in that he had been forgiven his debt. He went on acting as though nothing had happened, which is why he required his debtor to pay him back. He was too busy focussing on his own feelings, and hadn't really grasped that he was now free from debt, his burden had rolled away, so he should help other people lose their burdens.

It's only really when we are prepared to put our own feelings down that there is room for God to act. I remind you, too, that in our first reading Paul tells us not to be snooty about our brothers and sisters who are Christians in a different way from us, or who have scruples about things that we don't have scruples about, like sex or divorce, or same sex marriage, for instance. "Who are you to pass judgement on servants of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall. And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand." In other words, what they do is none of our business, and we need not to judge them.

Basically, when it comes to other people, we must put down our own feelings and think of theirs. And that way, we make room for God to act.

So, is there anyone you need to forgive this morning? Do you need to forgive yourself? Do you need to forgive God?

You may have noticed that we haven't had a prayer of penitence yet. We're going to, now. Let's take a few moments of quietness, and then I'll lead us in prayer.

In peace, let us pray to the Lord.