Sermon Archive

Reforming the Church, Reforming Society

© by The Reverend Dr. Byron E. Shafer
A sermon preached at Rutgers Presbyterian Church
on October 31, 2004; 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C;
Reformation Day;
Scripture Lessons: Psalm 46; Luke 19:1–10

Reformation Sunday—the last Sunday in October, the time when we set our clocks back and also turn our minds back to the 16th century and the origins of Protestant Christianity. Indeed, it was on this very day, October 31st, in the year 1517, that an Augustinian friar and university professor by the name of Martin Luther posted on the door of the castle church in Wittenberg, Germany, his ninety-five theses questioning various teachings and practices of the pope. The chain of events that followed this act led in 1521 to Luther’s being excommunicated by Pope Leo X and, shortly thereafter, to the Reformation, in which Western Christianity split into Protestants and Catholics.

Following Luther’s excommunication, he feared for his life and took refuge in the Wartburg Castle near Eisenach. This castle was, in point of fact, quite a mighty fortress, situated high on a hill—majestic, sturdy, solid. And it was there that much of Luther’s thinking took shape. Indeed, I believe this castle-setting was very much in his mind when some seven years later he recast the words of Psalm 46, this morning’s First Lesson, which celebrates God’s power to overcome chaos and the forces of disorder—yes, I believe that Wartburg was very much in Luther’s mind when he recast that psalm into the hymn that has become virtually synonymous with the Reformation, “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott,” “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”

Two of the main branches of Protestant Christianity that emerged in the 16th century were the Evangelical churches of Germany and Scandinavia, for whom Luther was the formative influence, and the Reformed churches of Switzerland, France, the Netherlands, and Scotland, for whom the formative influence was the French lawyer and theologian John Calvin, who labored in Geneva, Switzerland.

Beginning in the 17th century, large numbers of Protestants started to emigrate to the North American continent, many of them in search of religious freedom. Thus it came about that virtually all of the Protestant groups in Europe took root in this country as well.

Our own denomination, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), was founded by Scots of the Reformed tradition, persons who traced their spiritual lineage back to a Scottish follower of Calvin named John Knox. So our denomination began as a group of Scottish immigrants, many coming by way of Ireland. But over time we’ve expanded to include the full racial and ethnic diversity of our nation. Indeed the two most recent congregations to become part of the Presbytery of New York City are one composed of second-generation Koreans and another composed of newcomers from Ghana. And eight other immigrant congregations are taking steps to join with us over the next several years—Christians whose ethnic roots lie in Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, Pakistan, India, Congo, and several Latin American nations.

Now, one of the hallmark teachings of the Reformation churches is this: faith in Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior leads to a transformed heart—to a heart repentant of misdeeds in the past and rededicated to deeds of justice and generosity in the present. Yes, trust in Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior leads to consecrating whatever power one has to the service of love for God and neighbor.

Our Second Lesson from the Gospel of Luke offers as fine an example as one could ask for of a heart that’s transformed from sin to deeds of justice and loving kindness through faith, through trust, in Jesus.

In Jesus’s day, few persons were more genuinely hated by the populace than tax-collectors. You see, in that time persons didn’t sit down each April to fill in tax forms, consult tax tables, and mail in checks. There were no forms, nor tables, nor checks. Instead, tax-collectors arrived on your doorstep to bully and beat out of you as much cash and personal property as they could. Then, after these tax-collectors had turned over to the Roman authorities the pre-set amount assigned that year for their district, they were allowed to keep for themselves whatever over and above that pre-set figure they’d been able forcibly to collect. So most tax-collectors became quite rich, and they amassed their wealth very much at other people’s expense.

Now, Zacchaeus was the chief tax-collector in the Jericho district, so one can well imagine just how hated, and how rich, he was. And then one day, Jesus came to town.

To this point in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus has had very little good to say about rich people. Indeed, only a short time before this, in the preceding chapter, Jesus had challenged a man of wealth—whom by the way Jesus judged to be basically a person of virtue—Jesus had challenged him to sell all he possessed and give that money to the poor. Yet upon hearing Jesus’s challenge, that man had turned quite sorrowful. So Jesus had said to him, “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle…!” (18:18–25)

After that, those overhearing Jesus’s conversation with the rich man had asked him, “Then who can be saved?” And Jesus had replied, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.” (18:26–27)

So very shortly thereafter, Luke proceeds to tell us about Zacchaeus—a man of wealth who is judged by all his peers to be without virtue, and yet he is saved, by the grace of God. How strange that this particularly wicked “camel”—in contrast to that earlier, more virtuous rich man—does succeed, with Jesus’s help, in passing through that proverbial “eye of a needle.”

Yes, one day Jesus came to town, and Zacchaeus hastened out to see him. He was too short to be able to catch sight of Jesus through the throng of people that lined the road, and no one was about to let him squeeze through, so much despised was he. So he ran ahead and climbed up a sycamore tree. And when Jesus came to that spot, he looked up into the tree and called out, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.”

And Zacchaeus did scamper down from the tree, and after greeting Jesus he happily escorted him to his home, while the stunned crowd was left to mutter, “Jesus has gone to be the guest of one who’s a sinner.”

But Luke’s account has not yet come to the end of its surprises, for through Jesus’s choice of spending the day in Zacchaeus’s home, Zacchaeus experienced God’s saving grace. Through this encounter Zacchaeus came to trust in Jesus—came to faith in Jesus—and, in consequence, his heart was transformed. Zacchaeus repented his past and dedicated himself then and there to acts of justice and loving kindness in the present.

Yes, Zacchaeus made this pledge: “Look, Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.”

In response to Jesus’s unexpected and unmerited bestowing of favor on so great a sinner, Zacchaeus’s heart is transformed, and he immediately bears fruits worthy of his having repented. (cf. Luke 3:8) And Jesus proclaims, “Today salvation has come to this house, because Zacchaeus too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”

Yes, one of the hallmark teachings of the Reformation churches is that trust in Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior does lead to a transformed heart—to a heart repentant of misdeeds in the past and rededicated to deeds of justice and generosity in the present. Faith in Jesus as one’s Lord and Savior does lead to consecrating whatever power one has to the service of love for God and neighbor.

Well, the story of Zacchaeus-of-old has a happy ending. But what about the ending of the story of those whom many in the world have come to see as modern-day Zacchaeuses, of those who are wealthy-at-the-expense-of-others and in grave need of repentance—like contemporary American Christians?

Well, I like to believe that on each Reformation Day Jesus can once again be heard calling out to everyone of us with a renewed offer of grace, an offer that affords each of us another opportunity to renew our trust in Jesus and to let our hearts be transformed afresh by God. I believe Jesus is calling out to each of us today, “OK, you modern-day Zacchaeus, hurry up and come down off your high horse, for I must stay at your house today.”

And what might it look like if we were to respond to Jesus as fully as Zacchaeus-of-old did—by placing our political and economic power in the service of love and by channeling half of our resources in talent and wealth into serving the poor and the oppressed? What reformations in church and society would such a transformation of our hearts occasion?

Well, in terms of reforming this congregation, such a transformation of our hearts would certainly mean that we would no longer have such a tough time finding volunteers to host our homeless shelter on Friday and Sunday evenings. Dear friends in Christ, I really must lay this particular ministry on your hearts today, for your help with this program is so sorely needed. Do volunteer! Speak to me this very day!

And a Zacchaeus-like transformation of our hearts would also certainly mean that the special offerings we receive for One Great Hour of Sharing, Youth at Risk, Peacemaking, and Christmas Joy would no longer be declining, as they are, but would instead be increasing. So begin now, please, to put aside money for your special Christmas offering, so that you will be able generously to assist our denomination’s racial-ethnic schools and colleges and to provide pension support for our denomination’s very poorest retired church workers.

And in terms of reforming our society today, a Zacchaeus-like transformation of people’s hearts would certainly mean that we would be assisting all registered voters in poor and minority neighborhoods to cast their ballots this Tuesday, not trying to stop them. And it would also mean that the citizens and politicians of this society would be uniting our hands and our hearts to accomplish the task of decreasing the income gap between the rich and the poor and to accomplish the task of reversing the percentages of our federal budget that are spent on the fighting of wars and on the self-development of peoples.

Yes, Jesus had little good to say for the wealthy of this world, and what happened with Zacchaeus was a miracle of God’s grace.

So on this Reformation Day I hold the hope that by another miracle of God’s grace we American Christians, we “camels” burdened with the liability of our wealth—I hold the hope that we indeed can be led to accept, with Jesus’s help, the transformation of heart that God is offering to us and that we indeed need if we are ever to squeeze through the eye of God’s needle and hear Jesus saying to us, “Today, salvation has come to this house.”

Let us pray, using words written by Martin Luther:

“Behold, Lord [Jesus Christ], [I am] an empty vessel that needs to be filled. My Lord, fill it. I am weak in faith; strengthen me. I am cold in love; warm me and make me fervent [so] that my love may go out to my neighbor.”

And let all the people say, “Amen.”

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