Truth

Scripture: Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 26), A.D. 2014 A

Sermon:

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  AMEN.

“By what authority?” That’s the big question in our Gospel reading this morning. The chief priests and the elders come to Jesus and ask Him, “By what authority?”

A human being is a creature divided by sin. We have within us competing desires. On the one hand, we are naturally inclined to seek out truth—and truth is always related to what is good and what is beautiful. The human quest for truth is the root of all music, all art, all exploration, all poetry, all philosophy, all science, all religion, and all prayer. We stumble across glimmers of truth, like flecks of gold in a river, and immediately seek out more. Our desire for goodness, truth, and beauty can never be sated, at least not in this world. And so we forever seek it, grasp it, sacrifice for it. This is what makes mankind a little more like angels and a little less like apes. We strive for a deeper reality, a truer reality, beyond the veil materiality. We strive for transcendence.

There is, on the other hand, a darker drive within us, a wicked drive, that wants not to seek out truth but to forge our own twisted version: my truth, my transcendence. This is the part of us that wants not what is good for all but what is good for us. This is the part that does not pray to gods but desires to be prayed to as a god. Call it the id or the reptile brain or the devil on our shoulder. It’s the broken bit of our soul. You’ve probably heard the story of the two wolves. It goes something like this:

 An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you—and inside every other person, too.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

“The one you feed.” Indeed.

That’s what we’re all trying to do, right? That’s what all people of goodwill the world over hope to accomplish. We’re trying to feed the good wolf. We’re trying to nourish that noble part of us, trying to follow Natural Law, so as to discern truth from falsehood, real truth from counterfeit truth, and thus feed our souls with what really is good and true and beautiful. For anyone who has not completely caved to baser, selfish desires, this is the great quest of our lives. But how do we discern truth from falsehood, spiritual food from illusory drek? The question becomes, “By what authority” do we seek truth?—which is another way of saying, “Whom can we trust?”

I have a great deal of sympathy for the ones who ask Jesus that question this morning. In the first century, God’s people were divided into many sects, much as we are today. Instead of Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox, there were Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes—along with folks like John the Baptist who didn’t fit neatly into any of the usual categories. These people agreed on many things: they were all descendants of Abraham, all members of God’s people Israel, all adherents to the Law of God given to Moses on Mt. Sinai. But in their search for truth they placed their trust in different authorities.

The Sadducees trusted only the first five books of the Bible: the Books of Moses. In addition to Moses, Pharisees trusted the Prophets and the Writings, which Protestants today would call the Old Testament. And the Essenes had even more scriptures than these, including books that we would call the Apocrypha and Dead Sea Scrolls. Everyone was looking for goodness, beauty, and truth. Everyone was looking for God. “Truth is this way,” say the Sadducees. “No, truth is that way!” insist the Pharisees. “You’re both wrong,” counter the Essenes. “Trust us. Truth is over here!” And the rest of us are left wondering, “By what authority?” Where do we get reliable information about God?

Suddenly, into the midst of this whole mess, Jesus shows up from the Galilee proclaiming, “I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” And the chief priests and the elders—which is to say, the Pharisees and the Sadducees—immediately demand of Him, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Or in other words, “Says who?” The Pharisees expect a Warrior-Christ. The Essenes are looking for a Priest-Christ. And the Sadducees don’t want any Christ at all. Jesus defies all their expectations. Jesus looks to them like something altogether new. How can they trust Him?

There’s always a tension in religion between the priestly and the prophetic. The priestly element in religion seeks to safeguard the truths that we have discovered, or that God has revealed to us, so as to pass these treasures down to our children. The prophetic tradition proclaims new truths, or at least old truths made new, and seeks to show us that God is doing a new thing in a new way. The Church embraces both ministries, since God is both eternal and ever-new. Without the prophetic, the priestly would ossify, and our religion would become effectively dead. Without the priestly, the prophetic would pursue whatever inconstant novelty struck its fancy, a slave to fad and fashion.

Jesus shows up as literally the old made new: the Ancient of Days born of a Virgin. The priests of the old order must judge if this new prophecy of God stands consistent with His mighty actions of old. Nobody expects Jesus. Nobody really knows what to do with Him. He doesn’t look like anything we’d recognize. Had I been living 2,000 years ago, as a priest or elder amongst God’s people, I sincerely doubt that I would’ve had either the wisdom or the faith to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah. Jesus’ own Apostles fail to recognize Him as such, until God reveals this truth to Peter.

And that’s really the rub, isn’t it? If God’s own people—if Christ’s own Apostles—can’t recognize the Truth when He’s standing right in front of them in the flesh, then what chance do we have to judge rightly when God seems to be doing something new? Whom do we trust? By what authority do we seek God’s truth in our lives? When should we cling with priests to the old? When should we cry with prophets for the new? In many ways this is the same question asked by Pilate at Jesus’ own Crucifixion, when, standing before Truth Himself, Pilate asks: “What is truth?”

2,000 years later and we find ourselves in the same dilemma as the faithful Israelites of Jesus’ day. We Christians agree on many things: We are all adopted into the family of Abraham, all members of Christ’s Body the Church, all followers of the Gospels handed down by the holy Apostles and Evangelists. But in our search for truth we place our trust in different authorities. “Truth is this way,” say the Protestants. “No, truth is that way!” insist the Orthodox. “You’re both wrong,” counter the Catholics. “Trust us, the truth is over here!” The ghastly divisions of God’s One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church are a scandal to the Body of Christ, and the shame of His people. What seeking soul could trust such a divided authority? When it comes to the hard teachings, the difficult issues, the new prophecies, where are we to get reliable information about God?

Take heart, dear Christians. We are divided by many things, even as we all seek one Truth. But on this we all agree: For the people of God, Truth is not a checklist. Truth is a not a series of propositions to be affirmed. Truth is not a multiple choice test. Truth is a Person, God in the flesh, and His Name is Jesus. We all try to live good and moral lives. We all try to seek out goodness, truth, and beauty as best we can. We all try to feed the good wolf—and to one extent or another, we all fail, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. We may not agree with our separated brethren on marriage or politics or even the canon of Scripture. But we all agree that we are all of us in dire need of God’s mercy, forgiveness, and grace. And we all agree that God will pour these blessings out upon the humble and penitent soul, that we might be reborn to reflect in our lives God’s own love for the entire world. This is most certainly true.

Christian life is not easy, but it is simple: hear the Word of God, put it into practice, and ask forgiveness when we still manage to screw these things up. May we live in such a way that even when we’re wrong we are wrong with such humility and compassion that our lives still bear witness to the Truth.

Pray. Hope. And don’t worry. In Jesus’ Name. AMEN.