When I looked at the Lectionary for this, the Fourth Sunday in Lent, my first thought was how can I say anything new about the story of the Prodigal Son? After mulling it over and praying about it, I decided that focusing my message today on Paul’s words in what we know as his second letter to the church at Corinth made more sense.
Here’s the text from 2 Corinthians 5:16-21
From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
That decision found further support when I turned to the commentary in Feasting on the Word. Feasting on the Word is a series of volumes on the three-year cycle of the Lectionary. The passages for each Sunday are examined by different authors from theological, pastoral, exegetical and homiletical perspectives.
Ralph C. Wood, the author of the theological perspective on 2 Corinthians 5:16-21, began his reflections on the passage with the following words:
“Whether apocryphal or not, there is a splendid story that illustrates the centrality of this Lenten text. It is reported that Karl Barth was once asked what he would say to Adolf Hitler if he ever had the chance to meet the monster who was destroying Europe and who would ruin the whole world if he were not stopped. Barth’s interlocutor assumed that he would offer a scorching prophetic judgment against the miscreant’s awful politics of destruction. Barth replied, instead, that he would do nothing other than quote Romans 5:8: “While we still were sinners, Christ died for us.””
Okay, whether the story is true or not, that’s a wonderful reflection on the Christian character of Karl Barth, one of the preeminent theologians of the 20th Century. But then Wood added —
“If I were brought to a similar pass, I would hope to have the presence of mind to utter these words: “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation . . . . We beseech you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God” (2 Cor. 5:19–20 RSV).”
My first thought was that I appreciated Barth’s spare style much more than Wood’s, with the added attraction that it is familiar to all United Methodists as a part of the confession with which we inaugurate the Great Thanksgiving. Following the communal confession and the private meditation, the leader pronounces —
“Hear the good news: Christ died for us while we were yet sinners; that proves God's love toward us. In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!”
While I appreciate the expanded theology of Paul’s letter to Corinth, I could see it as being a bit wordy if you thought to use it when confronting a bloodthirsty autocrat.
Of course, this was Wood engaging with an audience most likely to consist of clergy and I figured he could get away with it. But then he made a compelling point that I thought could preach. The key to this affirmation lies in the beginning of the text:
“From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way.” 2 Cor. 5:16
How often, when reading Scripture, do we “bleep” past some words and lose the deeper meaning along the way? Many of us might read this text and understand it to mean that we no longer view the risen Christ as merely the carpenter cum rabbi from Nazareth, worker of signs and wonders though he was, but as something much, much more. In doing so we miss a key element:
“From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view . . .”
No One.
Not even Vladimir Putin.
See why this commentary spoke to me?
Scandal Part One
In a little bit, I’ll try to connect Paul’s words to the parable of the Prodigal that Jesus related to the Pharisees and scribes who were criticizing him for welcoming sinners and eating with them
But first, think about how Wood’s words struck me when I read them a few days ago against a backdrop of the evil that Vladimir Putin has visited upon the people of Ukraine. Writing about Adolph Hitler and Karl Barth is one thing – after all they’re history now. Sure, we know that Hitler was a monster, but he’s a monster that has retreated into the mists of time: Putin is here and now and we’re witnessing the terror, the pain, the suffering and deaths of not just soldiers but innocents – including children.
Painting by Uta Kaxniashvili
I thought of the picture of the young boy fleeing from the terror of war, crossing the border into Poland, his face contorted in abject misery and fear, separated from his parents and carrying all he had in a plastic bag. Uta Kaxniashvili used painting to render this arresting image universal.
Substituting Putin for Hitler in the apocryphal story about Karl Barth, we are expected to say to Putin:
“In Christ, God is reconciling the world to himself, so not counting your inexcusable crimes against you, as God’s ambassadors we implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.”
Really???
This is what I mean by “scandalous grace.”
Scandal Part Two
Merriam-Webster defines “scandal” as “a circumstance or action that offends propriety or established moral conceptions or disgraces those associated with it.”
To me, telling Putin that God isn’t counting his trespasses against humanity against him is scandalous.
There’s another meaning of scandalous that we need to consider.
First, however, Wood references another of my favorite theologians when he writes of Hans Urs von Balthasar:
“[I]n his splendid little treatise titled “Dare We Hope That All Men Be Saved?” [Balthasar] argues that if we deny this hope, then we have no right to confidence in our own salvation. To give up hope for any other person, no matter how wretched their condition may be, is also to give up hope for ourselves. How can we presuppose our own final deliverance from human wretchedness into divine worthiness, while assuming that others cannot be similarly saved?”
Paul wasn’t writing in the abstract in his letter to the Corinthians. They were fighting among themselves over what constituted orthodox behavior and the correct understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. One group of the people of Corinth considered themselves to be righteous and others to be condemned.
For the Corinthians it was scandalous to be told that they shouldn’t count their opponents’ trespasses against them.
Paul was having none of it, however — telling them that once someone was “in Christ” there was a “new creation” – that everything old was done away with, put behind us, because everything had become new.
What did Paul mean by everything had become new? For the answer to that question, we have to look at verse 21:
For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Okay, that just seems to raise more questions, doesn’t it? How could Jesus, God in the flesh, be made to be sin?
In his commentary in The New Interpreter’s Bible, J. Paul Sampley writes of verse 21:
“Rather than let the appeal for reconciliation conclude the tradition and its application, Paul makes a Christological development that is very reminiscent of the “story” that structures the Christ hymn in Phil 2:5–11 and that reappears later in the letter fragment before us. The “story” goes like this: (phase 1) The exalted (rich) one assumes lowly (poor) status, becoming like us (phase 2), so that we can become exalted (rich) like him (phase 3).”
Here’s where I try to tie in the parable of the Prodigal son.
First, just as with the Corinthian factions, the elder brother in the story of the Prodigal, was offended — “scandalized” — by his father’s actions in not only forgiving his profligate younger brother, but acting as if none of his bad behavior mattered.
Second, I’m reminded of Karl Barth’s idea of Christ acting in a manner similar to the Prodigal by forsaking his inheritance and traveling to a far country (being made flesh) in order to bring us back with him to the Father.
Barth’s notion offends at first, but then so does Paul’s statement that Christ, who was without sin, was made to be sin so that he might erase our sin.
This brings me to the second meaning of scandalous. Well, really it’s the original meaning of the word; that is, a stumbling block or stone.
Scandal Part Three
In Greek, the word skandalon meant just that – a stumbling block.
We’re most familiar with the use of that term in 1 Corinthians 1:22-23:
“For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,”
We see it elsewhere in Paul’s letter to the Romans where, in Romans 9:30-33 he quotes from a combination of verses from Isaiah:
What then are we to say? Gentiles, who did not strive for righteousness, have attained it, that is, righteousness through faith; but Israel, who did strive for the righteousness that is based on the law, did not succeed in fulfilling that law. Why not? Because they did not strive for it on the basis of faith, but as if it were based on works. They have stumbled over the stumbling stone, as it is written,
“See, I am laying in Zion a stone that will make people stumble, a rock that will make them fall, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”
So, what does this mean for us this morning?
Like the older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son, we are “scandalized” by the “stumbling block” of God’s amazing grace. We see grace from the perspective of the “flesh” or human point of view:
The grace that saves a wretch like me is amazing.
The grace that saves a thug like Vladimir Putin is scandalous.
But, as Jesus wanted the Pharisees to understand, God looks upon the sinners they were so concerned with as having been dead but come to life; as lost but yet found. Jesus tried to make the scribes and the Pharisees look upon those sinners as God does — as those he seeks to reconcile to himself, not counting their trespasses against them.
Therefore, we are challenged to no longer regard anyone – even Vladimir Putin – from a human point of view, but are to become ambassadors for Christ, imploring all people – even Vladimir Putin – to be reconciled to God.
Or, as Karl Barth is claimed to have said he would have told Hitler, “While we still were sinners, Christ died for us.”