The Gospel According to Peanuts, Oprah, The Simpsons, Dr. Phil and, Oh Yeah, Paul

Mary Rodgers, February 26, 2006
Scripture: Romans 7:14-25

Before I read the scripture lesson I want to introduce you to some "portable pastors." That's what theologian Phyllis Tickle calls people like Oprah or any person or character who teaches Christian principles in a covert way. I've quoted 4 of them today in the sermon. If you'll look in your bulletin you'll find a place where you can write down your guess as to which portable pastor said the quote. There is not theological purpose to doing this…it's just for fun or to help you keep focused. There is extra credit if you can pinpoint the exact character. Later I'll share the answers with you and you can see how you did. So on to the scripture:

Our second lesson is from Romans 7:14-25 From "The Message":

I can anticipate the response that is coming: "I know that all God's commands are spiritual, but I'm not. Isn't this also your experience?" Yes, I'm full of myself-after all, I've spent a long time in sins prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's commands are necessary.

But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it, I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.

I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but I am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different.

The sermon:

It has been my experience that often the Bible can be down right confusing yet every now and then a passage comes along that speaks the truth in such a way that deep deep down in my heart I know it is true. These words from the book of Romans is one such passage.

Paul says: "What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then act another. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it, I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway."

I get that. I don't now how it is in your family but there are topics of conversation that have the potential to perfectly illustrate what Paul is talking about. For me personally, it's not politics, or even religion, the hot button topic is my marital status. Now to be fair it's just certain people in my family (I won't mention any names) who push that button. I know it's going to happen. I can count on it, most of the time I can even predict it. Yet it never ceases to surprise me when the topic comes up and someone says something like: "Don't you talk to people in grocery stores?" Well yeah! It makes me really angry and more often than not words come flying out of my mouth which usually leads to more words and actions that I regret later. Nothing good ever comes out of that response. I know this and I have resolved to handle he situation differently. I have resolved to "do good" as Paul would say. Many times I have resolved to take the high road knowing that I should just let it go, knowing that no matter what I say it's still going to come up. I've practiced. When I see it coming I say to myself "Take the high road Mary, Take the high road Mary". But here's the reality: unless it is a really really exceptional day, I start on the high road and end up on the low road, saying things that I wished I hadn't. So you can see why Paul's words hold such deep truth for me. They are like a mirror being held up and there I am.

I decide to do good, but I don't really do it, I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway.

I suspect you understand this too because what Paul is describing is a universal human experience. If you want to be all churchy about it Paul is describing original sin, which is a doctrine or teaching that describes the human condition. The condition that no matter how much we resolve to be different, no matter how much we pre-decide that we are going to take the high road we will at some point end up on the low road. Now, if I were preaching in another time and place and I wanted to convey what original sin is I might bang on the pulpit and preach about how wretched we all are. Back in the day this was a prominent word in church culture. Wretched! One of our most beloved hymns employs this word: "Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me." Even some of our own historical confessions use the word "wretched" but luckily they only refer to the "wretchedness of man" so us women are off the hook (ok so I'm kidding).

We could spend days exploring our wretchedness and original sin. We could have a whole sermon series, but just for today, it is important to make one thing clear: Original sin does not refer to any immoral acts or evil deeds. It doesn't refer to stealing from the cookie jar or insulting your neighbor or adultery, all those things we think of as "sins." Original sin points to something much deeper, it refers to the basic origin or motive behind everything we do. It describes who we are. Here's an easier way to think about it: We are not sinners because we "occasionally sin," but we "sin occasionally" because we are always sinners. (The Gospel According to Peanuts pg.33).

An even easier way to understand it is we take a minute to overhear one a conversation between two of our portable pastors. (This is quote one and two)

One character says to another:

(Quote 1) "This is a picture of the human heart. One side is filled with hate and the other side is filled with love. These are two forces which are constantly at war with each other."

(Quote 2) And with a look on his face that conveys physical sickness he responds, "I think I know what you mean I can feel them fighting." (The Gospel According to Peanuts pg.54)

That's original sin: I decide to do good, but I don't really do it. I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. It's all very depressing and one might even wonder why bother. Why try to be different if we know we are eventually going fail. That kind of thought at its core is what we call despair. But all is not lost. There are some things that we can "do." They are not a cure for the condition but doing them can certainly improve the symptoms.

In our passage today Paul doesn't flat out say to us: here's something you can do, but he does demonstrate it. But, one of our portable pastors does say what Paul demonstrates: (And this is Quote 3) "You cannot change what you won't acknowledge." (Dr. Phil) There is a reason that we come together as a faith community to confess our sins both personally and corporately. It's a tool to help us along our spiritual path. It is an acknowledgment of the human predicament. We pray together as a way of acknowledging that sin can and sometimes does invade the systems in which we live and take part in, like governmental, economic, and religious systems. We personally confess our sin as a way of saying to God: "I know that things are not the way they are supposed to be and here's my part in it." It is a tool that helps us to keep centered on who we are (a sinner) and whose we are (we belong to God). So the good news is that there is something we can "do." The bad news is that no matter how much we "do" no matter how much we admit, acknowledge and own that we have a problem with sin, on our own, we will not produce any radical change for ourselves or in each other.

One day, one of our portable pastors admitted, acknowledged and owned that he was not a very grateful person and that though God had blessed him in many ways he really didn't deserve what he had been given. So after admitting, acknowledging, and owning this problem he resolved to do better, to be different. Sitting at the dinner table this is what he prayed: (This is Quote 4)

"Dear Lord, Thank you for this microwave bounty, even though we don't deserve it. I mean…our kids are uncontrollable hellions, pardon my French, but they act like savages. Did you see them at the Picnic? Of course you did, you're everywhere, you're omnivorous, O Lord, Why did you spite me with this family!" (The Gospel According to the Simpsons).

On our own we are unable to bring about any radical change. And that too has to be acknowledged. Another one of our portable pastors ponders that very truth when he is asked why he tore the cover off a comic book (This is quote 5) he says:

I don't know. I really don't know. Why do I do stupid things? Why don't I think? What's the matter with me? Where's my sense of responsibility. Then, I ask myself: Am I really responsible? Is it really my fault when I do something wrong? Must I answer for my mistakes?

He goes on and on analyzing his life when all of sudden POW! The owner of the comic book lets him have it with all the wrath of an angry God impatient with a will that is trapped in the paralysis of analysis. Must we account for our sins, and answer for our actions? Absolutely! Which is why acknowledgment alone or acknowledgement with the intent to change in and of itself is of little value. Herein lies a theological tension between our own free will and the power and will of God.

After Paul let's us overhear his own self-examination (which is most of the passage), after all his great self work that leads him to awareness he ends up at the end of his rope. Which is why a lot of people, even Christians don't want to look at themselves that closely. The end of the rope. It's a bad place to be. It's a place of despair, and struggle, a place of suffering and confusion. It's a bad place to be. Except for one thing. It is a place where radical change or (even just a little bit of change can begin). At the end of the rope you can either let go and fall to a metaphorical death or you can reach out for the only person that can help you bring real change in your life. You can decide to reach out to Jesus.

Now I don't know where you are on your of life rope. I know some of you are hanging on for dear life. Statistically someone here is living in the midst of a marriage that is in shambles. I know that statistically someone in this congregation is being abused and that someone in the congregation is an abuser. I know that some here have expereinced pain that is so intolerable that you have wonder if life is worth it at all. I also know that there are many who are nowhere near the end of the rope. Life is really pretty good.

—Except for those fraying parts like the "hot button" that raises it's ugly head at during the holidays.

—Or that fraying part where you are worried about your teen-ager whose grades have dropped and who has lost interest in the things she once loved.

—The fraying part that reminds you of the feeling that you just don't measure up.

You can hold onto a fraying rope for a long time but eventually it will snap. It'd be nice if when we find ourselves hanging onto a fraying rope we could stop struggling, remembering what God says in the Bible: "Cease striving and know that I am God."

There is an alternative to struggling so much that the rope breaks. We can let go and reach for God. God has promised that our cries are heard. God promises that we belong to him. But we do have to let go of the rope. Even Jesus when he got to the end of his rope had to let go: "Father into your hands I commit my spirit" and out of the horrible place of death God created life. You have to let go of the rope.

Now I want to tell you something: When I got to this point of writing in this sermon I had this fleeting daydream about Jane playing a very quiet rendition of "Just as I am" as I encouraged you to let go of whatever rope or ropes you are hanging to. I envisioned the spirit working on people's hearts as they responded to the invitation to come to the alter to commit or recommit their lives to Jesus. It was a great day dream. An altar call can be very powerful experience of God. There are just two problems. In this church there is no altar, and while there is nothing wrong with an altar call, it's not our tradition. We believe that acknowledging sin, acknowledging our part in it, acknowledging our inability to overcome it is something that has to be done every single day. And then knowing that we are forgiven, we reach out, asking for continued help from our Lord and from others. While doing that we intentionally seek other Christians that support us and grow wise in faith with us, we seek those who will help us be accountable for living a Christ-centered life. That is the purpose of community. So today I do invite you to commit or re-commit your life to Christ in whatever way you need to do that, because the good news is that the Holy Spirit will work in and through you and your ropes. For, in the words of our last portable pastor:

"What God intended for you goes far beyond anything you can imagine." (The Gospel of Oprah)

That was the last quote.

Amen

© Copyright, 2006, Rev. Mary Rodgers
All Rights Reserved.
Providence Presbyterian Church
Fairfax, Virginia