It is safe to say that much
of the world was somewhat caught off guard and deeply appalled this week by the
news and the video coverage of the execution of American journalist James Foley
at the hands of Islamic State militants. The footage shows him there with
shaved head as he kneels before the camera next to an ominous, masked figure
dressed totally in black, as he pleads for his life and asks, under duress, that
the U.S. stop its air assault on the Islamic State’s forces. Seconds later, a
knife is brandished and he is beheaded in chilling fashion. Even as our own
heartland finds itself embroiled in race-related riots and violence for the
second week in a row; even as we have endured years of similar stories from the
wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the scene of Foley’s grotesque death seemed
out-of-place. Indeed, our own President rebuked the Islamic State and its
actions by saying such a group “has no place in the 21st century.”
As much as I or anyone else
may want that statement to be true, and as much as I hope we could all work
together to ensure the protection of innocent people and the respect of those
we view as different from us, the president’s thoughtful comments on the matter
did make me wonder, what century does such an act belong in? In what era would
such a disgusting display of cowardice not be out of place?
"The Martyrdom of St. Bartholomew" Jusepe de Ribera (1632) |
One convenient answer for
that would be Nathanael Bartholomew’s, the saint the church commemorates on August 24. There is no firm data on who Bartholomew
was or how his life ended, but the paraments hang red this morning because the
church has long suspected blood and violence were involved. Perhaps he was beheaded.
Perhaps he was flayed alive, like the tradition claims. Regardless, Bartholomew
(who likely went by the other name of Nathanael), is remembered as a martyr
like most of the other apostles, recalled as someone who was killed by his
captors because of his witness to Jesus as the risen Lord.
I’m not certain that the 1st
century was overall any more violent or dangerous than the 21st
century, but the truth is that for many of the earliest followers of Christ, a
horrible, gruesome death was not too uncommon. Standing up for one’s allegiance
to Christ was often a very risky affair, and the church has always, for good
reason, treasured their witness. Their ability to tell the good news of Jesus
even in the face of violence is inspiring and becomes for all believers a
sobering reminder of what it often means to stand up and speak out for the
cause of the gospel, a truth that is so profound it demands a person’s whole
life in order to tell it.
However, it is worth noting that
Bartholomew wasn’t always standing up or speaking out. His journey to being an
apostle begins in cynicism and disbelief. When we meet him this morning by his
other name, Nathanael, we find him under a fig tree, doubting whether anything good
can come from Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth. To be fair, it is an honest
question. Nazareth was a rather small Podunk town that could claim no A-listers.
To believe that God would choose it as a hometown for the one about whom Moses
and the prophets wrote, was a more than a little preposterous. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
is the quote that Nathanael gets remembered for, and it is often adapted to
express initial skepticism about a place or a people we have come to associate
with mediocrity or even bad news. One can imagine people nowadays might mutter
things under their breath like, “Can anything good come out of Baghdad?” or “Can
anything good come out of Ferguson?”
Yes, Nathanael Bartholomew’s
life as one of the twelve called disciples begins with this air of
condescension and doubt, and yet Jesus praises him for his honesty, contrasting
Nathanael with Nathanael’s ancient ancestor Jacob, the father of the entire
nation, who was full of deceit and trickery. Even after Nathanael joins up with
Philip to find out more about this Jesus figure, Nathanael is still a little
bit suspicious, wondering how Jesus would know anything about him. Eventually,
however, through this encounter, Jesus transforms Nathanael into a devoted disciple.
He goes from fig tree to followership, from sitting in cynicism to standing and
speaking the truth in a matter of minutes. Jesus promises him he will see even
greater things than Jacob did, who once had a dream of angels ascending and
descending a ladder to heaven. As a disciple, Nathanael will be stepping into a
way of life where all of God’s promises will be ascending and descending in
what Jesus is doing.
It’s like the message that
God gives his people as they stand at the base of Mt. Sinai in this lesson from
Exodus. God reminds them that they did not do anything in order to be brought
into the heart of God’s presence. That was all God’s doing. God bore them on eagles’ wings. God brought them out of their slavery in
Egypt, even in spite of their recalcitrance and doubt. There was no way they
could revoke that love or go back to not being God’s people. Now, however,
comes their response to God’s saving act. Keeping God’s commandments, living into
God’s covenant is what they do in response to that. They don’t earn God’s favor by keeping the
commandments and the like, but by faithful response to God’s grace they become
God’s treasured possession, the jewel in the crown that shines with the truest
and brightest hue. That is, they become truth-tellers about God’s mercy and
grace. They, too, become apostles, people sent to spread the message in word
and deed about the kind of God they have. Nathanael Bartholomew will discover
what Israel time and time again discovered, and what James Foley’s bravery demonstrated:
the world does not always appreciate truth-tellers. It is surprisingly
difficult to stand in the midst of things and speak the truth about God and
live the truth of his love.
James Foley (photo: Globalpost/AP) |
However, God doesn’t just
leave the Nathanaels and the Israelites and you and me to stand up and speak on
our own. As it turns out, we have no better example of God’s desire to tell the
truth about our sin and the world’s darkness and the truth about God’s repeated
sacrifices for us than the rabbi from Nazareth, himself. He is executed, too,
in cruel fashion by captors who are trying to send a message to get him to stop
with his compassion and humility. But God raises him from the dead, and in
doing so sends his own message that the powers of good ultimately triumph over
evil…that the truth about human cruelty and God’s love will eventually be heard
by all people, whether they can accept it or not.
Sometimes I wonder if we start
to believe that the price of following Jesus, the of telling the truth about
God in a brutal world, just isn’t as costly as it used to be. We convince
ourselves that less bravery is required nowadays because we think our century
is less ruthless and violent than earlier ones. In some ways that may be true, but
the Lord of grace is still beckoning people from underneath their fig trees of
complacency to stand up and speak out and witness to the wondrous
demonstrations of Jesus’ love and power in the world. Let us not forget that the school cafeterias
and the soccer practice fields we inhabit are, for many of us, still terribly
difficult places to stand up and speak out. And yet Jesus shows up there,
suffering and conquering alongside the weak.
Thankfully, the pictures of
James Foley kneeling beside his executioner weren’t the only chilling images
scrolling before us this week. We were also subjected to hundreds of renditions
of the Ice Bucket Challenge, a social media phenomenon that has celebrities and
regular folks alike pouring buckets of ice water over their heads and filming
it in order to raise awareness and funds for the foundation that fights ALS, also
known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. At last count, the ALS foundation has received $48.1
million dollars as a result of the challenge, which is 20 times more money than
the organization received at the same time last year. My Facebook newsfeed
included several of you completing the challenge, and at least one staff member
here has challenged me to do the same. It’s been a lot of fun to see this
happen, a great diversion from all the ever-present, unrelenting negative
stories.
To be honest, I’ve enjoyed
watching all these people pour water on their heads but not as as much as I
enjoy pouring baptismal water over people’s heads. It occurs to me that whether
or not you’ve taken on the ALS Icebucket Challenge, every Sunday we essentially
issue our own Icebucket challenge. Someone stands beside that basin right there
and remind you that you are God’s chosen possession. The worship leader reminds
you that God calls you and transforms you from fig tree complacency to faithful
follower. And then the Spirit urges you to “take the challenge” of contributing
your life to the cause of the gospel, in this crazy 21st century.
Bartholomew the Apostle took
it. And, by the grace of God, you do too.
Thanks be to God!
The Reverend Phillip W. Martin, Jr.
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