Home  Visitor Information  Our Pastor  Member Information  Commercials  Links  Contact Us  Search


United Church of Paducah
4600 Buckner Lane
Paducah, KY 42001
(270) 442-3722

Worship Times
Sunday Service: 10:00a

Refreshments &
Fellowship: 11:15a

Christian Education
For All Ages: 11:20a - Noon

Nursery Services Provided Handicap Accessible

All Are Welcome!

A Congregation Of The

"Never place a period where God has placed a comma." - Gracie Allen

From August 21, 2005
Who And How
Matthew 16: 13-20; Romans 12: 1-8

In 1999 as a way to celebrate the dawning of a new millennium, the National Catholic Reporter sponsored a worldwide art competition. The theme was fitting: Jesus 2000. From around the world came over 1,600 entries. A panel of judges narrowed the field with Sister Wendy Beckett from the PBS show, "Sister Wendy's Story of Painting," making the final decision.

When Sister Wendy selected "Jesus of the People" as the winning entry, her choice was immediately controversial. Why? People weren't expecting a Jesus who looked like a young African with features that seemed at once masculine and feminine. Surrounding this "Jesus of the People" were symbols drawn from Asian and Native cultures.

Janet McKenzie, the Vermont painter who created this unexpected Jesus, welcomed the controversy because it emphasized her concern that over the centuries Jesus' artistic image has been too narrowly conceived, and sadly so.

Art shapes perceptions. Even perceptions about Jesus. Think back to the pictures from your childhood Bible or remember the religious portrait on your grandmother's wall and tell me those images didn't influence how you imagined Jesus - not just his appearance but his manner and his ministry.

I understand the uneasy response to McKenzie's painting. Much the same thing happened to me just before I started seminary. I stopped by a professor's office to ask a quick question and was nearly knocked off my feet by a portrait I was not expecting: this Jesus had the strong jaw and longish dark hair I'd grown accustomed to seeing, but he also had his head tilted back and his mouth open wide in a laugh that could only be described as hearty. Wasn't Jesus spiritual and somber? Wasn't he serious all the time? Who was this Jesus, I asked myself.

"Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" Jesus asks his disciples one day. The Roman Empire looms large in the background. People of diverse religious persuasions move about in the city's marketplace.

"Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" The disciples' answers come easily: Jesus, some say the Son of Man is John the Baptizer reincarnated, some Elijah, some consider the Son of Man to be Jeremiah returned, others say he is one of Israel's other prophets.

Jesus lets these answers hang in the air. Then his query turns personal. "Who do you say that I am?"

Before anyone can respond, Simon Peter charges ahead. "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God," the disciple says with bold certainty.

"You are the Messiah." Shorthand for "You are the fulfillment of God's promise, Jesus. You are the one our prophets have claimed God would one day send. You are the one we have eagerly anticipated for centuries. You are the true hope of the Hebrew people. You are the answer to our prayers. Jesus, you are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

"You are Rock," Jesus responds, playfully inventing a name. "You are Rock and I'll build my church on you."

It would be impossible to be a practicing Jew in Jesus' day and not know of God's promise to send a Messiah.

Generations had hoped and prayed for his coming. Generations had suffered and died waiting. Generations had found courage and strength in the knowledge that one day, one day according to God's timing, someone who would come to fulfill every promise God had ever made to the nation of Israel.

One day, someone like none other would come to restore God's chosen people, inaugurating an age of lasting peace and pervasive mercy, a continual season of justice and compassion and right relationship between God and God's people.

Every practicing Jew had grown up conjuring an image of this God-send, this Messiah, and the God-life he would usher in.

So when Jesus begins speaking of the necessity of his suffering, of an inevitable journey to Jerusalem that will not go well, one that will end in death, Peter has to react. This is so not what he had envisioned all his life. This is so not what his people had been anticipating. Not suffering, not death, not the humiliation of being rejected by his own. No, no, no! Not failure, not this.

And especially not for the God-man Peter so deeply loves. "God forbid it, Lord!" Peter blurts out.

He's half way there, Peter is. He has the who but not the how. He knows who Jesus is; he just can't see how suffering and death have any place in the Messiah picture so vivid in his mind.

Who is this Jesus? And how is he Messiah? Every answer becomes a confession.

The apostle Paul called Jesus our "first-born brother," the one who arrived ahead of us, the one who already knows the Father's heart and gives us a leg up in our relationship with him.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian put to death for participating in a plot to murder Hitler, called Jesus "the man for others." Bonhoeffer saw in Jesus one so filled with God that he could willingly pour himself out for the rest of us.

In Latin America, Jesus is known as "compañero cristo," the one who labors alongside all those who struggle for justice and liberation, the one always in solidarity with them, even unto death. The one who, in turn, is not forsaken.

Although scripture reminds us that "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever" (Hebrews 13:8), although tradition tells us that Jesus is God's unique gift to humanity, throughout the ages the who and how of Jesus the Messiah has been a kaleidoscope of images.

In turns, Jesus has been viewed as the ultimate rabbi, the light of the gentiles, the king of kings, the true image, the monk who rules the world, the bridegroom of the world, the universal man, the mirror of the eternal, the prince of peace, the suffering servant, the poet of the spirit, the liberator, the man who belongs to the world.

Even as Jesus Christ is for ever the same, still we can't help but paint Jesus according to our times and our lives. Every age has seen Jesus through its own lens. Ours included. Gregory Waldrop, my clergy colleague at St. Luke-Aldersgate, commented recently that some gave Jesus a promotion after September 11th. No longer simply a personal savior, after that tragedy he became the Secretary of Defense in a war against Islam. 

 Always it is a temptation to fashion Jesus in our own image. To make him a Rorschach ink-blot savior, the object of our unique projections. Jesus is a hero. No, he's an activist. He's a Democrat; no, a Republican. He's a superstar, a matinee idol, a team mascot, a CEO. Ask who he is and be prepared for a hundred different answers, responses that tell us as much about the responder as about Jesus. 

As one who struggled long and hard to come to an honest understanding of Jesus as Christ, I am aware that for many, particularly for folks who live in places like Utah or Kentucky, it's important that we wrestle with the picture that has been painted for us of Jesus.

A friend who is passionate in his faith, who finds in Jesus the way to abundant life, who sees Jesus as the word of God made flesh, this friend (for the longest time) could not join his beloved church because he was uncomfortable with the question asked when new members come forward in worship: Do you profess Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior?

It's not that Jesus wasn't his Lord, wasn't his Savior, wasn't the Christ. It's that Jesus was these things in ways different than he had been taught growing up. To stand before his congregation and answer "yes, I do" without being able to explain how he understood Jesus to be Christ, Lord, and Savior made my friend feel dishonest. Thankfully, his minister understood and trusted this concern.

This congregation reminds me of that minister. It is part of what makes you (and our denomination) beautiful. Here, we place a high value on what I call spiritual integrity. We do not have tests of faith, only statements of faith - creeds, in other words. We do not ask each other to make narrowly-defined faith claims in order to belong.

Spiritual integrity is rarely possible without theological hospitality, a climate conducive to earnest questioning and exploration. Theological hospitality leaves ample room for each person to come to understanding about and relationship with Christ in ways that honor each one's heart, mind, and life experience.

That you and I and the UCC live out our faith by being hospitable in this way is more than nice or noble.

It is one very important way we confess who Jesus Christ is and how he redeems us. We do not force belief, instead we nurture it. We do not demand conformity of thought, even when we may not understand or agree. We are able to do this because we trust the Spirit's ways.

This witness of theological freedom makes a strong and necessary statement about who and how. About who Christ is and how he saves us.

This witness also makes a strong and necessary statement about who we are and how the Spirit of Christ works through us.

You will remember that at Pentecost, God paid humanity the highest compliment by including us in the life of Christ in a most remarkable and mystical way. Following Jesus' ascension into heaven, the Holy Spirit breathed itself into Jesus' friends and followers so that the work Christ began on earth might be advanced and expanded, a holy empowering of believers that continues to this day.

At Pentecost, you and I were joined together by God to become part of the who. We became part of the how, as well. Paul says it this way: so we, who are many, are one body in Christ. We have gifts given by grace. Gifts that enable us to work together just as beautifully as different parts of the human body work together.

You and I could stay up into the wee hours answering the question Jesus poses his disciples - who do you say that I am? What fun we would have, eh?

Then dawn's light would come and it would be time to rise and give our truest answer: the answer we give as we live. As we live together discovering all over again what it means to be part of the who and the how.

Amen.

© Rev. Karen Winkel
United Church of Paducah (UCC)


Check the Announcements and Calendar pages to
keep up to date on current church news and events.

 

Please join us for a special viewing of Defending Your Life on July 6th at 12 noon.