Sex, Religion, and Politics (a sermon)

Well, we're back to Mark this morning, after our delightful sojourn into John 6. We're also back, you'll be happy to know, to a quiz-free sermon. What we're still with, however, is some great messages that are just as relevant today as they were when they were first shared.

And the messages talk about the stuff that isn't necessarily normal dinner conversation. In fact, they kinda go against everything we're told is polite dinner conversation. Three things NOT to bring up at a dinner party? Sex, religion, politics. Three things brought up in today's readings? Sex, religion, politics.

(An aside - if you have friends or family that say the bible or church is boring, today's a day to pay attention and prove them wrong.)

So let's start off with the sex.

The first reading we heard today comes from the Song of Solomon, or the Song of Songs. This is a book of scripture where Solomon (the groom), and his bride describe their love and longing for one another. They praise one another, they look for one another, they delight in one another - yes, that's a polite way of saying exactly what you think it does. They're human. They're hopelessly in love. And it's that love that they celebrate in these verses. It's a love that is all-consuming, and overpowers all else. It's a love that is thought to be an allegory of the relationship between God and the chosen people Israel, and the relationship between Christ and his Church. Love that is so pure and so committed and so complete that it years for some appropriate, natural, deliciously intimate form of physical expression.

'The voice of my beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." '

The Psalm today isn't too much different, is it? It celebrates love as well. Love that we do understand - love in human form.  "My heart overflows" and "the most handsome of men" and "daughters of kings are among your ladies of honour". Good stuff here. Love expressed, as we mere mortals can understand it. YET, never forgetting that love, including this physical love, comes to us from God, as a gracious blessing. *happy sigh*

Alrighty then. Let's talk religion next.

In the letter of James, this passage ends with "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world." So basically: be generous, be doers.

That's something that isn't necessarily an easy lesson to hear. Recent research suggests that we, as humans, need to learn how to be generous. We need to learn that loving our neighbours is the right thing to do.

As Christians, we have the perfect example. We have been given the gift of Christ himself to remind us that we are called to be loving, giving people. James is reminding us that the world is not just about getting our own wants and needs met, but about helping out other people. Doing the nice thing for someone else. Sharing a kindness, not because we have to, but because we want to. And we want to, because we have embraced our role in the family of God. Religion, we know, cannot be done as an individual thing. No, religion, albeit a human institution, is a collection of beliefs that provide an order to the chaos, a structure to life, a way of being to those who follow.

And for us, as Christ-followers, part of our religion requires us to be generous. To give without expectation of return. To share - and to realise that what we are sharing is not our own, but something that has been given to us already as a perfect gift.

And so our understanding of religion can shift here, thanks to James' letter reminding us of just how we are called to be: unstained by the world. Not cynical, not judgemental, not angry. No, our place within religion is to be (and act accordingly!) as the beloved: "quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger." We're called to be the religious, in the world but not of the world,, embracing the truth that "Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights." *another happy sigh*

So! On to politics. One of my favourite topics.

Jesus, when confronted by the Pharisees, makes a great and public declaration: “Listen to me, all of you, and understand!” By doing this, he makes sure that this message can be received by anyone - everyone - who wishes. It's no longer just the Pharisees insulting one small group of people, it's now a lesson for all to hear. That's important - it's Jesus once again bringing the issues at hand into the public square, the public discussion, the public awareness. He's allowing them to get political - because 'politics' literally means of, for, or relating to citizens. And that's exactly to whom Jesus is speaking.

The message that Jesus shares is an important one differentiating between what is earthly and what is Godly; what is the societal norm and what is the heavenly reality. So, using the food example, Jesus reminds folks - including us - that what we eat is going to literally go right through us; our food is earthly, it stays in this realm. Our food, our eating habits, our table manners, do not defile us.

So what CAN defile us? Well, what we say, what we do, and how we justify our actions.

Thinking about this, we might wonder where it's coming from.  Jesus has just been approached by some Pharisees, who have gone out of their way to insult him. They’ve shared their unsolicited opinion on how Jesus and his disciples have broken tradition, broken God’s law, by not washing their hands before eating. Now these Pharisees aren’t known for being compassionate folks – they’re known for being harsh and judgemental and critical of anyone and everyone who doesn’t live up to their (unattainable) standards. These are folks who have even turned against their own families, friends, neighbours with their sharp tongues and acerbic assessments; denying so-called “unworthy” people access to the synagogue, to the teachings, to the community of faith.

It is in front of these folks that Jesus calls to the crowd - the people, over whom governance and influence are being practiced by the Pharisees and their friends. It's to these people that Jesus says Listen, all of you, and understand. He’s letting the people know that the judgement of this world is not the judgement of God. He's telling all of us this - reminding us that we are all worthy and loved in the eyes of God. Jesus is reminding them that true authority does not come from a few self-chosen elite humans who are themselves imperfect.

It’s a bold move by Jesus; it’s a stark statement that he is making to the Pharisees and to the crowds. He’s setting the foundation for a shift of power away from human rulers and toward God; a shift from a focus on the set of laws and habits to a focus on living and loving. He's changing the political set-up.

And he's inviting the people to do the same. Not by simply embracing a new political structure or theory, but by recognising that the politics of this life are temporal, and therefore temporary. He's reminding them - and us! - that the best thing we can do is love, and act lovingly. That is the political framework Jesus would have us follow, where we do not defile ourselves by doing hurtful things, even if the human law indicates it acceptable. Rather, we're called into the politics of God - "of, for, and relating to citizens" (not of the earth, but of God's kingdom). We're called into the politics of God that inspires us into actions - of loving service, of generous care, of true and whole-hearted worship. This is the political arena into which we ought to be focusing the majority of our attention. *another happy sigh*

So there you have it. Sex, religion, and politics. On a Sunday morning. From the preacher.

I guess the short version of the sermon could be this: Love wins.

May we come to seek, know and share God's love so completely that it overpowers any human laws that would separate us from God. May the true law of our hearts be an ongoing expression of that love.