10/25/20 “The Power of Questions” by Nancy E. Petty
Matthew 22:34-46
You know how sometimes you read a research study and think, “Well, duh!” Here is one of those for anyone who is or has been the parent of small children or spent any amount of time with children – they ask a lot of questions. But even those of us who knew that are surprised by just how many questions they ask. Some studies show four-year-olds ask as many as 200 to 300 questions a day. Warren Berger, author of A More Beautiful Question, published in 2014, says kids ask an average of 40,000 questions between the ages of 2 and 5. In his research, Berger also found that over the next couple of years, as kids go to school, the number of questions they ask declines.
It seems as Jesus went about his ministry he channeled his inner child. In my research for this sermon, I discovered that Jesus asks 307 different questions in the gospels. He is asked 183 questions. The twenty-second chapter of Matthew contains some of these questions. Our portion of the text for this morning picks up on a conversation between Jesus and some Pharisees in which the Pharisees asks Jesus a question: “Which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Once Jesus responds, he asks his own question: “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?”
Just prior to this conversation, earlier in Matthew 22, some Sadducees had engaged Jesus with some of their questions. Trying to trap Jesus, they started quizzing him about paying taxes – a topic we are hearing much about right now in the run-up to our presidential election. They asked Jesus: “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”
The question is intended as a trap. With their question about taxes, they are hoping to either get Jesus in trouble with the Roman authorities or the popular people. The tax they are referring to is a Poll tax and was very unpopular with the Jewish people at the time. If Jesus answers one way, he will get in trouble with the Roman authorities. If he answers another way, he will get in trouble with the people.
In all his wisdom, Jesus dodges the trap by talking about two different authorities: the civil authorities and God. “By calling attention to the different obligations we have, Jesus is reminding us of the differences that exist for us as citizens of the state and citizens of [God’s kin-dom]. Jesus carefully suggests that we owe the state exactly what is demanded of us, in this case, the coin with Caesar’s head on it. By contrasting that with his [response], to give to God what is God’s, Jesus is exposing the irony of the Pharisees and [Sadducees’] religious activities; they are more concerned with their own power than they are with honoring God.”
The next set of questions found in verses 23-33 may be some of the oddest and craziest questions ever asked to Jesus, in my opinion. This time they are focusing their line of questioning on a woman who married seven brothers in succession after each brother died. They want to know whose wife of the seven she will be in the resurrection. I told you it was crazy! And from they take us to this question about which commandment in the law is the greatest.
Each of these questions in the twenty-second chapter of Matthew deserve attention. Well, maybe not the one about who will be married to whom in the resurrection. But surely the questions raised about our civil and sacred duties when it comes to our money; and which commandment is the greatest deserve our attention. At least in my mind, those two are connected. And on this Harvest Sunday, when traditionally the pastor of this church is expected to preach on giving, the 22nd chapter of Matthew offers a good set-up to appeal to our civil and sacred duties when it comes to our giving.
There is nothing more I would like to do than preach a sermon that inspires our congregation to fully pledge our 2021 budget by December 31 of this year. There is nothing more I would like to do than to do my part in making the work of the Finance Committee easy in the challenging and uncharted waters of 2020. But I’m going to forgo my desire to inspire you with an expected stewardship sermon and my wish to make the Finance Committee’s job easy, and simply tell you what’s on my mind today. And what’s on my mind is the power of our questions: those we ask, those we are asked, and those we might do well to be asking as people of faith.
In the category of “those we ask” I offer two questions that I hear us asking frequently. First, can the institutional church survive in a nation where some researchers note that 42 to 43% of young millennials and gen Z’s say they don’t go to church nor identify with a particular faith tradition? And, is it really possible to become a multicultural church that has a 135 year tradition of being a predominately white middle to upper class congregation? These questions we are asking.
The last several years have been tough for churches. Worship attendance has dropped. Religious disaffiliation or non-affiliation is on the rise. Many young adults say they don’t believe in God. For those studying religion, the religious landscape across America looks bleak. With these facts trending, how can or will the church survive is a serious question? One might say that only history will tell. In the meantime, what are churches to do?
To begin with, I think we need to reframe the question. In the reframing, we need to ask ourselves if “survival” is the goal or if the real question might be can the church remain relevant in these rapidly changing times. Another way to reframe this question is this way: Are we, the people of Pullen, more interested in remaining who we have been, or in becoming what our world needs?
2020 has made us all realize the value of what we had before the pandemic. But it has also exposed layer after layer of soft wood under the foundation of our society and world. Yes, we are a beloved congregation with a deep commitment to justice-love. We are also an aging congregation in a world where 43% of young people say they don’t go to church or identify as religious. Why don’t those young people see themselves here? Why don’t they find home in a place, that for many of us, feels more like home than the house we grew up in? Is it them, or is it us, or is it both?
To this reframe, we would do well to look no further than the words of Roger Crook as written in Pullen’s history. In the prologue of his first book, which comes at the end of the book, Roger writes:
[Pullen Memorial Baptist Church] will not be a people concerned with the survival of the church but a people committed to the ministry of the church. They will not be a people bound by the past but a people who draw strength from the past. They will not be a people who despair of the future but a people whose heritage offers hope.
Churches whose vision and ministries remain relevant for the times need not worry about survival. Focusing only on survival as an institution is the quickest and shortest route to an early grave. The question is, will the church take a risk to remain relevant and speak prophetically to the issues of our times? This truth was on full display this past week as Pope Francis spoke further on the Catholic Church’s response to the LGBT community. You may critique his response as not going far enough, and it doesn’t, and I don’t know the Pope’s full intent in what he said; but it’s hard to deny that he is attempting to speak to the relevance of the church’s response to those who continue to be oppressed and marginalized by the Catholic Church.
The reframing of the question from survival to relevance speaks to the second question: Is it possible to become a multicultural church that has a 135 year tradition of being a predominately white middle to upper class congregation? Despite decades of civil rights work and intentional community building, why don’t more people of color feel comfortable here? As one of our Wednesday night speakers said, can they see themselves on the windows? Do they hear themselves in the music? Do they believe that we will embrace them, or simply expect them to assimilate into our historically white liturgy, language and lack of expressive response?
Are we willing to look at some of our traditions and ways of being church that continue to hold white bias and preference? Are we willing to see through another’s eyes, and position ourselves in proximity with traditions from other cultures and religious traditions? Will we have the prophetic imagination to take this risk for the sake of building God’s beloved community here at Pullen? And are we willing to give of our time and talents and financial resources to make such a kin-dom dream come true here on earth as it is in heaven?
Both of these realities beg the question of whether we are grasping onto who we have been, or who we think we are, versus being willing to open our eyes to see who we actually are, and how we are seen by those we seek to include in our community. What would it look like to be a church who isn’t running a mission program for a predominately black community, but who is trying to be church with them? What would it feel like in our worship service if we were making space, as Bryan Lee put it a few week ago, for people under 30? And more important than knowing the endpoint of how we might be different, is knowing how we might be willing to transform. What are we willing to surrender in service for what is trying to be born? These are the questions we ask.
As for the questions we are most often asked: Does God really love and accept homosexuals? How can you call yourself Christian and accept and bless LGBTQIA persons? And, how can you call yourself a Christian church and believe that Muslims and Jews and non-religious people are all a part of God’s beloved community? As I see it, these questions come under the big umbrella question of: Who is our neighbor? Who does God invite to the table?
I know, you are thinking we are past the “gay” question. And yet, if you could listen in on the phone calls and emails I get on a weekly basis, you would understand just how we are so not finished with this question. Weekly, I get calls and emails from individuals who have been and are being spiritually abused by the church hoping that when they call me they will hear a voice and a word speaking compassion and blessing. We cannot become complacent or silent on this issue thinking that we have spoken and we don’t need to say more. Our people are hurting and they need our witness to continue to be strong and loud. Our trans family especially need our witness and voice.
And it’s the same with our interfaith witness. Sure, we have all been blessed by our willingness to lean into interfaith dialogue and relationship with our Muslim and Jewish brothers and sisters. But we cannot rest on our own willingness. Our witness to keep engaging, showing up and speaking up is central to our calling as the people of God. Here I offer these reframes to this question: “What is at stake for the Christian church in a nation that is becoming less Christian and more multi-faith if we are not willing to build bridges and relationships with our siblings of other faith traditions and advocate for their religious freedom in this country?” Are we consciously aware that representation is necessary, though not sufficient, for those we say we love to have a voice in how we love them? For some of us, it was such a victory to have gay folks accepted into the church, or in the pulpit that we can think of this question as “solved.” But the issues of gender and sexuality are both related to and distinct from the issues of homosexuality. If we close our minds to learning about how God is emerging in these communities, we are no different than cis-gendered heterosexuals in the 90’s, willing to exclude congregations like Pullen for accepting homosexuals. Are we willing to give of our time and talents and financial resources to make such a kin-dom dream of a world where all faiths value one another come true here on earth as it is in heaven? The questions we are asked.
And last, the question we might do well to be asking as people of faith: Can we acquire wealth, as individuals and as a church, and still follow Jesus? Or as a dear friend of mine, a person I have the deepest respect for and whom I consider to have one of the most perceptive theological minds, wrote on her seminary application years ago: How can you be a Christian and have any money? How we explore this question, our willingness and spirit, will say a lot about our understanding of what is expected of us as citizens of God’s realm. As I think about my own response, I try to hold in tension the question “what is enough for me and my house” with Jesus’ teachings to share what I have with those who are hungry and thirsty and homeless and the poor who are oppressed by systems of economic inequality. I try and listen to his words about money being an idol and how wealth distorts our view of building a world where there is justice and equality. And I try and discern where my resources can join with others to best serve the values I hold as a person of faith. In these times, these are challenging questions. They are questions we might do well to be asking as people of faith.
The power of our questions cannot be understated. They tell us something about who we are: the questions we ask, the questions asked of us and the questions we would do well to be asking. May we be courageous and faithful in asking and living with the questions that help us discover who God longs for us to become as God’s beloved people—with all that we are: our time, talents and money!
