Sermon prepared for
Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
By Gregory S. Kaurin, pastor
8/24/03 – St. Bartholomew’s Day
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Introduction (at the beginning of the service)
August 24th is a
day set aside to remember the Apostle Bartholomew. If you look up Bartholomew’s name in your Bible concordance,
you’ll find that he’s mentioned four times, but listen to Luke 6:12-16. This is the only way you’ll hear his name
mentioned: “One day…Jesus went to a
mountain to pray, and there he prayed to God through the night. At sunrise, he called all of his disciples
and chose twelve to be his apostles.
Here are their names: Simon (also called Peter), Andrew (Peter’s
brother), James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James (son of
Alphaeus), Simon (the zealot), Judas (son of James), and Judas Iscariot (who
later betrayed him).”
That’s it; that’s all we
know from the Bible about the disciple named Bartholomew. — He’s just a name in a list, a silent
disciple. If that’s all we know about
him, how in the world am I going to be able to preach about him? (Well, I could… You know I could!)
But happily there’s more…
because I think church tradition has it right.
Tradition says that the fellow whom Matthew, Mark and Luke called
“Bartholomew” in their stories of Jesus was the same man that John named
“Nathanael” in his gospel story that we’re going to read in about ten
minutes.
Even though the church has
been arguing about it at least since the 10th Century, it makes
sense to me. “Bar” means “son” in
Hebrew. Bar-tholomew would mean “son of
Tholomae. “Neotais” meant child, so
Nathanael could mean “child of Thanael.”
Nathanael was probably Bartholomew’s Greek-anized name.
Other Bible scholars have
noticed that when each of Matthew, Mark and Luke listed the disciples, they
shifted the order around a bit, except that Philip was always found alongside
of Bartholomew. And here in today’s
gospel from John, notice with whom the first person Philip wanted to share his
news: Nathanael; Philip runs to find his good friend Nathanael.
That is my long explanation
as to why—on a day traditionally set aside for the Apostle Bartholomew—the
church for over 1000 years has read this lesson about Philip and Nathanael.
Outside of the Bible,
tradition has it that Bartholomew went on to preach in Armenia, in the areas
known today as northern Iraq, and Iran, as well as India. In works of art, Bartholomew is often seen
with a large knife. In Michelangelo’s great
piece called the “Last Judgment” Bartholomew is shown with his own skin draped
over his arm, because it is said he was flayed alive and then crucified with
his head upside down. It is for his
martyrdom that the church wears red today in her paraments.
Bartholomew (Nathanael)
Some of you might remember
that this is the second time this year that we have read today’s gospel story
and focused on Bartholomew, a.k.a. Nathanael.
Back in mid-January I suggested that skeptical Nathanael was like a
brooding philosopher who doubted out loud and voiced his pessimism, but inside
(maybe even where he was afraid to admit it to himself) he secretly hoped in
his heart of hearts that his friend, Perky Philip, was right about this Jesus
Barjoseph of Nazareth.
“Can anything good come out
of Nazareth,” he growled. But, notice,
he got up and followed Philip who was already skipping along the path ahead of
him. Nathanael followed Philip because,
like most skeptics, silently in his heart he was praying, “Can, can
anything good come from Nazareth?”
And when Jesus answered
Nathanael’s question by saying, “I saw you under your fig tree,” Jesus meant
something much deeper than that he was able to see Nathanael afar off with
superman X-ray vision. To “sit or live
beneath your fig tree” was a Biblical figure of speech. It went back to the Old Testament scriptures
in the book of 1st Kings, 4th chapter, where it speaks of
a time under King Solomon’s wise rule, when there was peace throughout the
Mediterranean world, and “every man lived under his fig tree.”
In Jesus day—for anyone
versed in those scriptures, and longing for a messiah—to “sit under your fig
tree” was to long for the Day when God would re-establish his Kingdom, and
peace for the whole world. What Jesus
meant, and what Nathanael understood was this: “You may be skeptical from
moment to moment, Nathanael, and honest about your doubts, you show no deceit
there. However, I know that you are,
deep within, dreaming beneath your fig tree.
You are constantly praying and hoping…and waiting…”
That’s what I said in
January about Nathanael, formerly known as Bartholomew. Now, today, let’s take it another step. Consider this sermon “Part Two” of
“Philosophic Nathanael and Perky Philip,” because—despite his amazing testimony
to Jesus as the Messiah, and his obvious dedication to Jesus from then on, and
finally to his brutal death—I imagine that a large part of Nathanael’s
personality stayed intact throughout his life.
Jesus wanted all types. Look at his disciples! There was Matthew the tax collector, at
least two Jewish zealots, impulsive Peter, ambitious James and John, doubting
Thomas, Perky, outgoing and gregarious Philip, and skeptical thinking
Nathanael. Jesus pulls together all
types, eats with them, touches them, saves them, and sends them out.
Last Friday, I was listening
to a tape of one of my favorite preachers and mentors, Dr. Robert Linders, who
mentioned that one of the Peace Corps unofficial statements says that “it takes
all kinds of people to make the Peace Corps, so the Peace Corps takes all
kinds.” Dr. Linders suggests that the
same can be applied to the church.
“Let’s say it plainly,” he said, “It takes all kinds to be the church,
and the church needs to take all kinds.”
That doesn’t mean anything
goes. It means that any one can be
embraced, loved and forgiven. It means
that every one has something to offer.
I’d like to really bring
this home by turning to another piece of scripture that I constantly harp
on. In Mark, chapter 12, a religious
teacher questioned Jesus, asking him, “Of all the commandments, which is the
most important?” Jesus answered, “The
most important commandment is this: Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is the one
and only Lord. And you must love God
with all your heart and soul, with all your mind, and with all your
strength.” Jesus went on to describe
the second and equally important commandment to love the neighbor, but let’s
take some time with the first.
Love God with all your heart
and soul, mind, and strength.
Obviously, this means each of us is to use all we have, and all within
us as an expression of devotion to God.
The way we feel, think, and act, both towards him and also towards
others, and creation, and everything he’s given us.
But isn’t it also fair to
realize that some of us are stronger, more gifted, in one than the other? Some of us are more heart than mind. Others of us are more mind than
strength. And that we are to love God,
not just as individuals, but also as a church, each of us according to and with
our abilities.
Some of us are people of the
heart with strong feelings. When we
believe it, we believe it with our guts, and we express it with quick tears of
joy or of sympathy. Some of us are
emotionally (and along with it spiritually) moved by a refrain in a hymn, or a
touching story, or simply looking around and experiencing the feeling of
belonging.
“Perky Philip,” I call him,
but I bet he was also the first to shed tears of grief or sympathy. He was the first to say or do the right
thing to lift peoples’ spirits. Philip,
in the Book of Acts, grabbed hold of the moment and baptized an Ethiopian
eunuch as a Christian, even before he had complete and total theological
correctness. He didn’t say, “Let’s call
a committee together,” or “wait, you need to believe exactly this way and say
the right formula,” but based on the excitement and the spirit of the moment he
offered the grace of God in Baptism.
Some of us might be too
quick to shut down and doubt or even dismiss the emotions in worship and
faith. “Love isn’t just feelings,” we
say. “Love is work; it’s action.” Yes, but it is feelings, too. It is sympathy, or at least empathy. Jesus constantly looked over crowds, and at
individual people, the Bible tells us, and he had compassion for them. And he had tears, and even anger, and
laughing joy. Jesus showed and
expressed the deep emotionality of God.
And we, the church, need our
people of quick and wholehearted feelings.
From them comes the poetry, not just the artistry, but the true poetry
of our faith in songs, art, and architecture.
They show their emotions in action.
These are the people that help one person at a time, as if that person
is the one person in the whole world that matters in this moment. We love God with our heart-people.
And with our minds. There are those of us who are more intellectual
in our faith. Some of us like to think
about it a bit about it before swallowing.
Some of us will weigh a hymn by its words, or by how well it describes
our creedal faith, against how much emotional fluff it seems to have. Some of us hold back awhile, until what we
hear or read convinces us and hits home.
Suddenly, like Philosophic Nathanael, we are lead to say, “That’s
it! Teacher, you are the Son of God,
the King of our Hopes, Messiah!”
We are to love God with our
minds, and yet there are those who are often quick to put down the faith of the
people we call the “intellectuals,” “theologians,” and “scholars.” But we need the people of the mind. These are often the people that help keep us
from being blown from side to side by every wind of doctrine, or by every
preacher that preaches what we want to hear about riches, prosperity, or the
condemnation of all the outside world (except for good ol’ self-righteous
us).
These intellectuals
challenge us to make sure that our faith is filled with more than just
fluff. They make sure that the
traditions we pass on support what is core and central to Christianity. They make sure that the actions we make as a
church reflect what we truly believe about God’s intentions, Jesus’ salvation,
and the two central most important commands of scripture of love.
Do not dismiss the people of
intellect in the church. What may sound
all head and no heart to you, is, in fact, connected to directly to their
hearts. People of intellect love their
God and church, and their minds are not disconnected from their hearts. Why do they sound and talk about their faith
the way they do? Because they love
their God—and creation and other people—with their minds. We love God with our mind-people.
And with our strength. Some people just do. They act because they love God. They love their church, creation, life and
family, and so they do something about it.
These Christians are also not to be dismissed or trivialized. They are not mindless about their faith,
and, of course, they are moved by what is sung and said in worship. They have feelings, and they have brains,
too.
But they are less interested
in getting all gushy about it, and they are less interested in just sitting
around talking, learning and studying the faith. They are much more interested in acting on it.
These are the ones who are
constantly involved in service and mission projects, here at church and around
the world. They are the planners and
workers in potlucks and groups and councils and task groups and on and on. They are the ones who constantly ask the
intellectuals, “So what? How does this
apply to me and my life?”
And, boy, do we need
them. These are the St. Peters of our
church. “Let’s do something about this;
maybe we could build a shrine right here on this mountain. Let’s build a church. Let’s gather, grow, glorify and go!”
The “feelers” of the church
often have their highs coupled with their lows, and sometimes depression. “Intellectuals” can sometimes get lost in
their systems and doubts. The “doers”
seem to find a way through all of that to help us all keep going. “Be doers of the word,” the Bible says, “and
not just hearers.” We love God with you
strength-people.
So, Feelers of the church,
love like Perky Philip and feel with everything you’ve got. Thinkers of the church, love like
Philosophic Nathanael, and think, and question, and write for the sake of the
gospel. Doers of the church, love like
Impulsive Peter, and just do it.
But work together, my
friends in Christ, with the respect that each of us doesn’t deserve, but with
the respect that is given for the sake and love of Jesus Christ, who loved, and
forgave, and brought us together, to be his body. As different as we are, Jesus has called us to continue his work of
showing compassion, forgiving, teaching, healing, and promising eternal life to
others. Love God with everything we
are, as a congregation, and as a whole church, with all of our hearts, with our
minds, and with our strength, here in this church, and through our lives. Amen.
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