23
Oct

Crown of Righteousness

Jeremiah 14:7-10,19-22  Psalm 84:1-6 2 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18  Luke 18:9-14

The Pharisee about whom Jesus is speaking stood praying alone in the Temple, surely dressed in his finest elitist array of robes and tasseled stoles, praying loudly enough to be heard by those in the vicinity.  “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”  How fully confident, he was, that he had secured his place in the kingdom through his own earthly efforts and religious prowess.   This bold misconception or distortion of faith repeats itself throughout the history of God’s people.  The Church’s culpability in the misconception continues.

One thousand years after Jesus’ time and throughout most of the Middle Ages, the Church found security in the notion that God’s favor had to be earned through works or monetary offerings.  Faithful Christians would pursue monastic orders or participate in a Crusade or pilgrimage – or sponsor others to go on their behalf, too often guided by the misconception that these efforts were necessary to earn entrance into heaven.  The practice of requiring the purchase of indulgences was to become a common and quite corrupt means of funding the works of the Church.  Priests were known to insist that salvation was dependent upon these burdensome offerings – offerings used to support the building and maintenance of the great cathedrals and, even at times, to support the lavish lifestyles of the religious elite.

In this atmosphere, the faithful were not only concerned about their own salvation, they were compelled to assure the salvation of deceased loved ones – turning over oppressive amounts of their livelihoods in the false assurance of shortening loved ones’ time in the tormenting experiences of purgatory – that ominous state after death in which debts must be paid before entrance is granted into heaven.

By the late 15th century, the Church’s sale of indulgences had increased significantly.  That practice was that once Christians had confessed their sins, as required, to the priest, the appropriate penalties were imposed for sufficient punishment of those sins; these penalties were the price paid in exchange for the granting of remission of those sins.  The payment of adequate penalties on earth either monetarily or through particular works would be considered by the Church to be satisfaction of the debt owed as penance for sins – penance that would duly shorten one’s time in purgatory.  That’s quite an aggressive stewardship campaign.

As you might imagine, this arbitrary selling of indulgences led to serious abuse, and guilt-ridden Christians could be easily exploited by unscrupulous church leaders seeking monetary support for their buildings and positions.  By the early 1500’s this exploitation had drawn the ire of a little known Augustinian monk and professor in the German town of Wittenberg by the name of Martin Luther.  It would be Martin Luther who would post his 95 Theses on the door of the Castle of Wittenberg for all to see – 95 disputations against the practice of collecting indulgences under the assumption of earned salvation.  And, with the help of the most modern of innovations known as printing, Martin Luther would circulate his theses throughout Europe.  Next year will mark the 500th anniversary of this event.  The following year, 1518, this circulation of reformist complaints would win Luther’s excommunication by the Roman Church and it would ignite the Protestant Reformation that would adopt various forms and groups with various causes.  Protestantism was born; Martin Luther had unknowingly and unintentionally sparked the Lutheran Church.  The sparks became a roaring fire; the Ante Baptists, the Calvinists, the Anglicans, and numerous other faith traditions would follow suit.

Martin Luther drew upon the apostle Paul’s use of the phrase justification by grace, a doctrine repeated time and again in Paul’s letters to the early churches.  Paul instructs his followers of the state of righteousness granted as a gift of God’s grace by virtue of our redemption by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  It is our Lord who has paid the cost of our redemption.

Martin Luther continued to argue this theology in opposition to the Church of Rome.  Luther shared his fervent zeal with fellow reformer John Calvin, the father of Presbyterianism who was igniting his own sparks.  Together, Luther and Calvin maintained that the receiving of this justification requires no human cooperation with God – it is all from God.  Thus, it is justification freely given; never lost; without the necessity of purchase through crusades, pilgrimages, indulgences, or strict obedience to a particular set of norms; and certainly not because we deserve it, as exhibited in the self-righteous grandstanding of the Pharisee of Jesus’ parable.

Justification by faith, in the words of Martin Luther – a uniting of Christ to His believers in which the good of Christ belongs to us who believe, and our sinfulness belongs to Christ.[1]  By faith in Christ, we are in direct relationship with God.  Of course, God sees all our misconceptions and weaknesses that allow us to miss the mark – to sin time and time again.  But, in one holy event – God’s coming to earth in the human person of Jesus Christ to live and die as one of us and to rise victorious over sin and death – we are made holy; we are justified by faith; we are united in peace with God, made holy in the gift of God’s grace.

So, then, are we to assume from this understanding of God’s gift of justification that works are unnecessary or unexpected?  Absolutely not!  Good works are the manifestation of faith.  Jesus came to earth to live and die as one of us.  The faith that is divine is manifested in the life and works of the human Jesus.  We are justified through faith by God’s grace; our sanctification is the process that follows; our good works are our natural response to the love and acceptance.  We cannot separate our good works from our faith anymore than we can separate the divine Jesus from the human Jesus.  But, works are defined on God’s terms.

Like the tax collector of our parable, humbly, we stand before God, acknowledging our dependence upon God’s mercy.  Humbly, we keep fighting the good fight, until we, like the Apostle Paul, have finished our course.  Our Lord, the righteous Judge, has reserved for each of us our crown of righteousness, no indulgences required; all expenses paid.



[1] Martin Luther, “Martin Luther on Justifying Faith,” in The Christian Theology Reader, 441-442 (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2007) 441.

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