With Heart and Mind

Romans 12:1-2

What would be the proper response to the discovery that God, the Creator against Whom the crown of his creation—humankind—had rebelled, the Holy One who had declared that all such rebels should endure eternal death, the Righteous Judge who had the perfect right to rain wrath down on the rebels, had provided the Way by which these same rebels could escape the death sentence, a escape which called for God himself to endure the punishment they deserved?  And, what would be the proper response to the further discovery that these same rebels could participate in this escape by simply trusting God’s promise to treat them as if they had never rebelled? 

Paul begins to answer these questions as he comes to the practical section of this letter to the Christians at Rome.  He begins by reminding them of what he had said earlier, summed-up in the phrase “the mercies of God.”   

We might expect him to call us to respond to those mercies with  tears of joy, shouts of celebration, and songs of deepest emotion.  Each of these is a proper response to the reality of the gospel.  William Tyndale the early Reformer and Bible translator understood that the gospel, properly understood,  involved  a heart-response.  Listen to his definition:

“Evangelion (that we call the gospel) is a Greek word and signifieth good, merry, glad and joyful tidings, that maketh a man’s heart glad and maketh him sing, dance, and leap for joy… [This gospel is] all of Christ the right David, how that he hath fought with sin, with death, and the devil, and overcome them: whereby all men that were in bondage to sin, wounded with death, overcome of the devil are without their own merits or deservings loosed, justified, restored to life and saved, brought to liberty and reconciled unto the favor of God and set at one with him again. [Those who believe these] tidings [not only] laud, praise and thank God, [they] are glad, sing and dance for joy.”

Without denying that our hearts may express our response to the gospel, Paul calls us to involve our minds as well.

In light of these mercies, Paul calls his readers to make “a decisive dedication” of their bodies.  The dedication to which Paul refers does not happen automatically, it comes only after a moment of decision or, more likely, after repeated moments of decision.  Each new challenge—be it an opportunity for service or a temptation to sin—calls for renewed commitment.

He specifically says they were to present their “bodies.”  The word is more than a reference to our physical selves, the body refers to the whole person.  The Amplified Bible uses this meaning as it renders the verse, “presenting all your members and faculties.”  Eugene Peterson in The Message offers a dynamic rendering of the idea.  He says, “Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, and walking around life—and place it before God as an offering.”

Seen this way Paul’s challenge echoes Jesus’ statement of the Greatest Commandment:  “Love the Lord with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” (Mark 12:30)

Paul and most of his readers would have been familiar with sacrifices in the temples, whether in the Jewish temple or the pagan temples, but most of those sacrifices were dead.  Here Paul calls for “a living sacrifice.”  The idea is that this sacrifice, this commitment, this decisive dedication works itself out in the day to day living of our lives.  Had Paul been writing a century or so later he might have said, “Yes, those believers who demonstrate their commitment to Christ as they face wild beasts in the arena are spiritual heroes, but so are you if you can demonstrate that same commitment if you honor Christ as you scrape pots in a kitchen or spread mortar at a building site.”

In the final analysis, it is this day-to-day commitment which is the best evidence of our devotion to Christ and the most persuasive and appealing argument for the validity of our claims for the faith.

The rational for this kind of commitment is twofold.

First, such a commitment is pleasing to God.  This might sound strange in our “please me or lose me” culture.  Think of the reality shows so popular today in which young men or young women are paraded by a bachelor or a bachelorette to be judged and evaluated.  The ultimate criterion is, “Does this person please me?”  Yet, Paul says the question guiding our spiritual lives should be, “Does my life please God?” 

Second, such a sacrifice is appropriate for informed Christians to make. 

Commentators are divided over how part of this verse should be translated.  Some translate is as “which is your spiritual worship” others follow the Authorized Version’s “which is your reasonable service.”  Both the word translated as “spiritual” and the word translated as “worship” are not the usual words Paul chooses to convey this concept.  The first word is the same word from which we get the English word “logic.”  It can be translated as “spiritual” and is in I Peter, but it can also be translated as “rational.”  At the same time, the second word can be translated as “worship” in the sense of religious activities, but it can also be translated as “service” in the sense of activity on behalf of someone. 

While the debate rages on I’ve decided that if such a careful writer as Paul should use an “ambiguous” phrase, he probably did so for a reason.  He may have wanted his readers to remember that being spiritual doesn’t require us to disengage our minds and that real worship  can take place outside the church building.

So, I think it’s possible to paraphrase Paul’s the observation this way:  “This total commitment of yourself to God is a spiritual act which comes from the very depth of your being and which is a completely reasonable response to God’s act of commitment to you.”

A New Attitude

If it’s not clear by now, let me state is plainly—Our minds must be part of our commitment to God.  In fact, in some ways commitment begins with our minds.

This is clear as Paul tells us what is necessary if we would make the kind of commitment he’s talking about.  He does this both positively and negatively.

1.    Don’t be conformed to this world’s way of thinking and doing.

J. B. Phillips has a great translation:  “Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mold.”

“World” is not the physical world but the age, the times, the system that orders its values and perspectives without reference to God.  In Paul’s day those whose thinking and actions were shaped by “the world” had “gods” (small “g”) but such gods were created in man’s image.

Today, those who hold a secular world-view either trivialize God or deny his existence altogether.

While Christians would not embrace such notions they do sometimes adopt, however unwittingly, the principles based on them.  Such principles could be compared to a computer virus that corrupts the “thinking” processes and renders the output suspect.

Like that computer virus the principles of the non-Christian world-view can infect our thinking just like the Greeks slipped into Troy inside that famous wooden horse.  It can happen at the workplace, at school, in the home, and even at church.  Keeping the wrong kind of thinking at bay demands vigilance.  In the words of another paraphrase you must always “Challenge the right of this present age to set the agenda for your life.”

For this reason Paul doesn’t leave his instructions in the negative.

2.  Do allow a renewed mind to transform your life.
            Faith in Christ should result in a new way of thinking.  As Williams renders this verse, “by the new ideals that mold your minds continue to transform yourselves.”  The Twentieth Century New Testament says, “be transformed by the complete change that has come over your minds.”

Too often we expect a converted person to behave differently before they’ve really learned to think differently.  The new way of thinking leads to a new way of acting.  New attitudes precede new actions.

While I was at Rice University a visiting scholar came for a special chapel service and lectured on some aspect of Christianity in society.  In his lecture he mentioned John Newton, the eighteenth century British pastor who wrote the words to “Amazing Grace.”  Earlier in his life Newton has served as a slave-ship captain. The lecturer took great delight in pointing out that after his conversion Newton continued in the slave trade.  I admit I was irritated; the lecturer had told the truth but not the whole truth.

A few years after his conversion Newton became one of England’s most outspoken opponents of slavery.  He persuaded William Wilberforce, an Evangelical member of Parliament, to use his political influence to make a difference in society.  Wilberforce became England’s most outspoken opponent of slavery.  Newton supported him completely, giving him valuable insights into the brutal trade.

Only after Newton’s mind grasped the contradiction between a Christian profession and the slave trade did he change his attitude.

Discoveries

Newton’s experience illustrates an important principle that works in the lives of those who are thoughtfully committed.  A consequence of possessing this new mind is the capacity to discover or discern God’s will.

That’s the first discovery linked to our commitment.  The second discovery lets us see just how wise and wonderful God’s will is.

Some Suggestions

Paul’s words on thoughtful commitment leads to several suggestions.

1.    We should address the intellectual needs of new Christians if we want them to grow in their commitment.

2.    We should be patient with new believers because it may take time for them to discover some aspect of God’s will we’ve long known.

3.    We should be prepared to periodically examine our thinking processes to determine if somehow some worldly way of thinking has worked its way in.

4.    We should stand ready to celebrate the wisdom of God’s will.

Conclusion

When we think about what God has done for us we will make a thoughtful commitment to him.  God’s total commitment to us calls for our total commitment to him.

The Storyteller: Shock Value

Lk.18:9-14 (Barclay translation)

Jesus spoke this parable to some who were self-confidently sure that they were righteous and who despised others. "Two men went up to the Temple to pray. The one was a Pharisee, the other a tax-collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, `O God, I thank thee that I am not as the rest of men, thieves, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week. I give a tenth of all that I get.' The tax-collector stood afar off, and would not lift even his eyes to heaven, and kept beating his breast and said, `O God, be merciful, to me--the sinner.' I tell you, this man went down to his house accepted with God rather than the other, because everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted."

 Text Introduction:  Some of Jesus’ stories had a shock value when they were originally told.  Because of our familiarity with these stories and because of our distance in time, we may miss this when we read them.  The parable we are looking at today is one of those shocking stories.  For some of Jesus’ listeners the shock bred anger, for some the shock bred surprise, and for some the shock bred hope.

The parable was told in the midst of Jesus’ running battle with the religious elite of his culture.  They didn’t like Jesus because he loved them.

*******

“Two men went up to the Temple to pray.”  Now, there’s breaking news.  Every day people went up to the temple to pray.  The Old Testament once called the temple a house of prayer.  But what Jesus said next kept this from being an ordinary story about the day-to-day operations of the temple.

One of the men was a Pharisee.  Now, you should know the Pharisees were regarded, by ordinary Jews, as the spiritually elite.  It’s true that they were regarded as spiritually elite, in part, because the Pharisees said they were spiritually elite, but, still, there was once something to the claim.              As a group, the Pharisees emerged about two centuries before Christ.  Their goal was to rescue Judaism from the corrupting influence of the Greek culture.  So, they set out to model the strictest adherence to Jewish religion and ritual.  Though they began with the best of intentions, in time they became proud and isolated from the ordinary people they sought to influence.   

Some of the Pharisees of Jesus’ day were hypocrites.  Some were sincere men who really tried to live by the rules they believed comprised God’s will.  Most of them shared the notion that if they worked really hard, they would win God’s favor.  All of them needed to be confronted by the truth in this little story.

The other man was a publican.  That’s a tax collector to you and me.  I don’t know any IRS employees.  If you do, you may kid them a little about their work but, in the end, you would know what they do is necessary.  In first century Judea, tax collectors were thought of as traitors because they worked for the Romans.  They were thought of as cheats and extortionists because most of them were.  The Romans told them what they expected from a certain area.  The publicans set out to squeeze all they could because they could keep anything above what the Romans expected.  Some of their victims showed their contempt for tax collectors by linking them to the dregs of society.  We hear references to “tax collectors and sinners” or “tax collectors and prostitutes.”   The Pharisees often complained that Jesus was too chummy with the tax collectors.

If we had the mindset of first century Jews and a tax collector were to walk into our sanctuary, we might glance up to see if the roof was about to fall in.

So, having met the characters, let’s look at Jesus’ improbable tale.

`Two men went up to the Temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax collector.’  At this point, some of Jesus’ listeners might have expected Jesus to speak of a dazzling light bathing the temple court and a Charlton Heston-like voice booming, “Tax collector, you rascal, how dare you think you could pray anywhere near this fine Pharisee.”  Of course, that isn’t what happened.  Instead, we get to eavesdrop on a couple prayers.

The Pharisee’s Prayer

The Pharisee prays, `I thank you, God, that I am not grasping, unjust, adulterous like everyone else, and particularly that I am not like this tax collector here.   I fast twice a week; I pay tithes on all I get.'   

The interesting thing about this prayer is that most of it might be true!  There’s nothing to suggest he was dishonest in his business dealings.  There’s no reason to believe he was unfaithful to his wife.  And, though the Old Testament law required only one day of fasting per year, a good Pharisee fasted on Tuesday and Thursday.  If he had one, the average Pharisee probably pulled out his pocket calculator to make sure he was giving a tenth of everything that came his way.  The comparison or contrast, if you will, with the tax collector was added just so God could understand the kind of prize he had in this Pharisee.

It’s easy to fall prey to this attitude.  Remember the Sunday school teacher who taught this parable to her children.  She ended with this prayer:  “Thank you God that we’re not like that Pharisee.”

In case this story seems a little far-fetched, history has left a record of some prayers offered by Jews like this Pharisee.  One daily prayer went something like this, “Thank God I am not a Gentile.  Thank God I am not one of the common people.  Thank God I am not a woman.”  Some of Jesus’ listeners may have overheard prayers like the one used in this parable.  Some of his listeners may have prayed one.

While the prayer tells us something about the Pharisee, how he prayed that prayer tells us something too.  Jesus said he “prayed this prayer to himself.”  I don’t know all that might mean.  You shouldn’t try to read too much into any parable but we can assume Jesus chose his words carefully. Perhaps Jesus was picturing a man who was as much concerned to rehearse his virtues for his own benefit as he was to give thanks to God.

This Pharisee might have hoped he would be “overheard” by those around him.  After all, what’s the use of being a saint if you can’t invite people to admire your halo?  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against those  who “love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them.”  When Jesus crafted this character he might have had this type of behavior in mind. 

Then, too, the Pharisee may have recited his virtues to build his own confidence.  He may have hoped to confirm to himself his value to God.  No matter how confident you are, when you set out to win God’s favor with your good works, you can never be too certain you’ve done enough.

But, for the moment, this Pharisee was dead certain he had done enough to outdo any tax collector.

So, let’s listen in to the tax collector’s prayer.

The Tax Collector’s Prayer

Jesus portrays this man’s demeanor as so very different than that of the Pharisee.  To begin with, he wouldn’t stand in as prominent a location.  He hadn’t come to be seen, he had come to lift a petition to God.  This man wouldn’t even allow his eyes to drift toward heaven.  He wasn’t worthy.  He beat his breast, a sign of deep contrition and sorrow.  In our culture, he might have buried his face in his hands.  Every ounce of pride had been rung from this man as he offered his very different prayer.

`O God, be merciful, to me--the sinner.'  Did you catch that?  Many translations depict the tax collector referring to himself as “a sinner.”  That gets the point across but the original text allows him to refer to himself as “the sinner.”  He wasn’t content to see himself as just another sinner;  he epitomized the role of sinner.  The Pharisee might have relished comparing himself to others to show how good he was, this tax collector didn’t even allow himself the comfort of comparing himself to others.

He wouldn’t think of praying, “Lord, you know I’m not as bad as some tax-collectors.”  He may not have known the intricacies of the law as well as the Pharisee did, but he knew enough to know his life didn’t match up to God’s demands.  In light of that knowledge, he came to God with only one petition.

He wanted mercy.   Mercy isn’t something you earn or deserve.     Mercy is a remarkable kindness bestowed by the offended on the offender.  It isn’t earned.

Luis Palau tells this story to illustrate the nature of mercy.

A mother once approached Napoleon seeking a pardon for her son. The emperor replied that the young man had committed a certain offense twice and justice demanded death. 

"But I don't ask for justice," the mother explained. "I plead for mercy." 

"But your son does not deserve mercy," Napoleon replied. 

"Sir," the woman cried, "it would not be mercy if he deserved it, and mercy is all I ask for." 

"Well, then," the emperor said, "I will have mercy." And he spared the woman's son. 

The tax collector knew he didn’t deserve anything from God, certainly not mercy.  Yet, he bared his soul and asked.  He may not have known the intricacies of Israel’s history as well as the Pharisee did, but what he knew of that story prompted him to ask.

Shock

We can’t be sure what Jesus’ listeners were expecting this point.  Chances are, what came next was a shock.  Jesus explained the differing results of those two prayers.  “I tell you,” Jesus said, “this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home justified before God.”  

Some in that crowd must have been standing there with their mouths open.  Any Pharisees who heard him may have complained about his nerve.  Any tax collectors—and a variety of other spiritual outcasts—who heard may have wondered if there might be hope after all.

Jesus had just said that God had accepted the unacceptable and had rejected those who were convinced and had convinced many others that they were sure winners.  More than that, Jesus announced this would be a principle of the Kingdom.  Here’s that principle, “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted."  The first step toward having a place in God’s Kingdom is to admit you don’t have a right to a place in God’s Kingdom.

A New Way of Thinking

Many commentaries describe this as parable about prayer.  In some ways it is.  More than that, it is about a new way of thinking about ourselves and about others.

Sometimes we have to guess a parable’s purpose from it context and the circumstance in which Jesus told it.  In the case of this parable, Luke tells us who Jesus was calling to a new way of thinking.  Luke says, “He spoke the … parable to some people who prided themselves on being upright and despised everyone else….” 

Folks who think they’ve got it all together, who think God will have a box full of merit badges for them when they get to heaven, often have pretty low opinions of other men and women.

This story Jesus told is a wake-up call about us all needing God’s grace.  You see, Jesus loved the Pharisees too much to let them hold on to their illusion of being good enough.  Of course, all of us need to echo that tax collector’s prayer because none of us can earn a place in heaven. When we come to that self-understanding, something remarkable happens.

A heart that sees its need of grace has a changed approach to God and a changed attitude toward others.

We come to God, not with pride, but with humility; not with lists of our virtues, but with confessions of our failure.  We join redeemed sinners of ages past in singing, “My hope is built on nothing less but Jesus’ blood and righteousness.”  When our hearts see our need of grace, we stop deluding ourselves about the value of our good works and trust only in the good work Jesus had done on our behalf.

Of course, when we do come to God for grace, we don’t have play the Pharisee’s game of one-upmanship to try to convince ourselves we’ve done enough.  We can rest in God’s grace and get busy living out our gratitude to him.

At the same time when we see our need of grace, we realize we need to relate to others in a new way.  Shakespeare’s Portia understood this.  Listen to some of what she says about mercy.

We do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy...

When we see our need of mercy, we begin to see our kinship with others.  We’re all sinners who deserve God’s judgment but yearn for his mercy.  We begin to understand the wisdom of Paul’s instruction:  “accept one another, just as Christ accepted you, for the glory of God.”

Seeing our own need of mercy gives birth to an attitude that refuses to write someone off because of their failures; we know the eraser could easily be put against our own names

Christians are sometimes accused of being harsh and judgmental.  That’s probably truer than we’d like to admit.  But if we Christians see ourselves as beneficiaries of mercy, there should no place for harsh, judgmental attitudes.

When we see we are beneficiaries of that mercy, we may be more eager than ever before to share the gospel with those without Christ.  But our approach will be transformed.   We won’t be like that Pharisee saying, “Thank God I’m not like you.”  It will be an approach that says, “Thank God, I’ve got good news for both of us.”

The Shame of Silence

I was away from my office this weekend and unable to access my files; so I am tardy in posting.

I preached this sermon in 2009; while it wasn’t prompted by anything I was experiencing in my ministry, I felt it was important to guide our church toward a perspective that would give victims of abuse a place of security and hope.

Second Samuel 13

I want to tell you about a young woman I’ll call Tammy.  She is at the heart of the story I’m about to tell.  Tammy was young—probably no more than sixteen or seventeen.  She was beautiful, strikingly so, but more important she possessed character traits that made her as lovely in her soul as she was physically.  She was sweet, kind, generous, benevolent, and chaste—though it might be old-fashioned to say so, Tammy was saving herself for marriage.  Many who knew Tammy might say she was an innocent.  Sadly, that innocence would be lost in a moment of violence.

Now, meet Tammy’s half-brother Junior.  They had the same father, Leo, but different mothers.  Junior was several years older than Tammy and his character couldn’t have contrasted more.  Where Tammy was sweet and kind, Junior was capable of harshness.  Where Tammy was generous and benevolent, Junior was utterly self-centered.  Where Tammy was chaste, Junior was consumed with lust, driven by a desire for carnal satisfaction.

Now, Junior believed he “loved” Tammy.  But, of course, that’s what his type always say.  They claim to love the object of their desire but, in fact, they simply want them.  For a long time, Junior ached for Tammy.  Then he came up with a plot to get what he wanted. 

Innocent Tammy was tricked into being alone with Junior.  At first, he simply urged her to sleep with him.  Tammy refused.  Not accustomed to having someone stand in his way, Junior simply took what he wanted. 

Afterwards, his lust satisfied, Junior threw her out.  The innocent young woman he once claimed to have loved, he now hated.  The Greeks had a saying which went something like this:  Humans have the gift to come to hate the ones they hurt.

And Tammy was hurt, hurt for the rest of her life.  She would never be the same.  She fled to the home of her older brother Harry.  Tammy and Harry were full sister and brother; they had the same father and mother.  Harry quickly figured out the basics of what had happened.  He was outraged but told Tammy not to do anything about it since it was a family matter.  He urged her to remain silent, telling Tammy that she shouldn’t make such a fuss.   For his part, Harry also kept quiet about the assault, maybe for the sake of the family.  Of course, no woman could forget such a nightmare;  it would haunt Tammy one way or another for the remainder of her life.

Still, Leo—their father--found out what had happened. His response was to have a flare of anger and then forget about it.   In the end, he did nothing about it.  He had big plans for Junior and probably didn’t want anything to interfere with them.

The funny thing is, though Harry told Tammy to forget about the attack, he couldn’t.   Two years later Harry had Junior murdered.

Perhaps, I should say assassinated.  That’s the proper word to use when you’re talking about killing the crown prince of the realm.  You see, I’m retelling the story of Tamar, King David’s daughter, who was raped by Amnon, David’s oldest son and likely heir to the throne.   Amnon would never rule because he was killed by cohorts of Absalom, Tamar’s brother.  The story is told in Second Samuel 13, and if you’re familiar with it, you know that this incident of sexual abuse led to an incident that almost destroyed the kingdom.

Sexual abuse is destructive.  Most of the time it doesn’t threaten kingdoms but is does destroy innocence, trust, and any sense of self worth in the heart of the abused.  While most abuse victims are girls, many are boys

It happens in rich families and poor, educated and uneducated families.  It occurs in white, black, Hispanic, and Asian homes.  It happens in the homes of unbelievers and in the homes of Christians.

I once heard a psychologist say that he had stopped asking his female patients if they were ever sexually abused.  Instead, he simply asked “when” they had been abused. 

Listen to these statistics from Darkness to Light, an organization that helps educate about the problem of sexual abuse.

• 1 in 7 girls is sexually abused before the age of 18. (96)
• 1 in 25 boys is sexually abused before the age of 18. (96)
• 1 in 5 children are solicited sexually while on the internet. (30, 87)
• Nearly 70% of all reported sexual assaults (including assaults on adults) occur to children ages 17 and under. (76)
• An estimated 39 million survivors of childhood sexual abuse exist in America today

[Alyssa Rheingold, Ph.D. reported these statistics in 2013.

These six studies suggest an overall full-childhood sexual abuse prevalence rate of 7.5% – 11.7%*. These studies suggest the child sexual abuse prevalence rate for girls is 10.7% to 17.4%* and the rate for boys is 3.8% to 4.6%*.

Key Findings

         “About 1 in 10 children will be sexually abused before they turn 18 *,+”

         “About 1 in 7 girls and 1 in 25 boys will be sexually abused before they turn 18*”

         “It is estimated that 7-12% of children are sexually abused*”

         “As many as 400,000 babies born in the U.S. this year will be sexually abused before their 18th birthday unless we do something to stop it”]

The impact of such abuse is frightening.  One half of women in prison report that they had been abused as children.

Here are just some of the results of such abuse.

• Sexually abused children who keep it a secret or who "tell" and are not believed are at greater risk than the general population for psychological, emotional, social, and physical problems often lasting into adulthood.
• Children who have been victims of sexual abuse are more likely to experience physical health problems (e.g., headaches).
• Victims of child sexual abuse report more symptoms of PTSD, more sadness, and more school problems than non-victims. (10, 16, 55, 72)
• Victims of child sexual abuse are more likely to experience major depressive disorder as adults. (55, 72)
• Young girls who are sexually abused are more likely to develop eating disorders as adolescents. (16, 40, 89)
• Adolescent victims have difficulty in the transition to adulthood, are more likely to suffer financial failure and physical injury, and are at risk to fail in other areas due to problem behaviors and outcomes of the victimization.
• Victims of child sexual abuse report more substance abuse problems. 70-80% of sexual abuse survivors report excessive drug and alcohol use. (10, 16, 89)
• Young girls who are sexually abused are 3 times more likely to develop psychiatric disorders or alcohol and drug abuse in adulthood, than girls who are not sexually abused. (16, 40, 89)
• Among male survivors, more than 70% seek psychological treatment for issues such as substance abuse, suicidal thoughts and attempted suicide. Males who have been sexually abused are more likely to violently victimize others. (90)

Despite the results of such abuse, many victims remain silent.  They may feel shame.  They may be confused.  They may have been threatened by the abuser.  Another family member may have told them not to bring this embarrassment on the family.  Silence only adds to the pain and the damage.

Because of this, it is tragic when the church remains silent in the face of abuse.  In the face of a scandalous incident of incest, Paul raged at the Corinthian Christians for their silence. (I Cor. 5:1f)  In fact, in addition to refusing to address the matter, the church seemed to be proud of its tolerance and refusal to be judgmental.  

For Paul, the proper response should have been outrage.  The church should have condemned the behavior.  It should have demanded the behavior stop.  It should have applied the severest of discipline on the guilty party.

In recent years, the church has drawn criticism because some have chosen to cover-up crimes against children.  Cover them up and allow the perpetrators to continue to have access to their most vulnerable victims. 

The story of Tamar mirrors the patterns we see today.  She was counseled to remain silent while those who could do something did nothing. 

Some victims of abuse begin to feel as if they were somehow to blame. This produces a profound sense of shame.  Some simply begin to feel alone and helpless.

We don’t know why Absalom told Tamar to remain silent.  One translation has him saying, in essence, “this is a family matter” we don’t need to make it public.  That’s certainly a possibility.  Another possibility is that he already knew what his father’s response would be—nothing.  Of course, when David heard about the assault on Tamar (from whom we don’t know), he did become angry.   But, interestingly, the text doesn’t tell us toward whom or what that anger was directed.  Was he angry at himself for not being a better father?  Was he angry at Amnon for being such a lout?  Was he angry at Tamar for making such a fuss?  Was he angry because he had one more thing to worry about—and a king shouldn’t have to worry about such matters? 

Whatever prompted his anger, it didn’t run deep enough to spur him to action?  We’re left to assume it quickly subsided.  Some translations add an explanation that David “doted” on Amnon and “would not punish his son …, because he loved him, for he was his firstborn.”^[1]  That isn’t found in the Hebrew text but comes from the Greek translation of the Old Testament and from some of the Dead Sea Scrolls.  If we consider it an educated guess about David’s motives, a guess made by some Jewish scholar, we can admit it has some validity.  We know that some fathers and mothers do “play favorites” with their children.  Some parents even say of particularly charming children, no matter what they’ve done, “I just can’t stay mad at him or her.”  In the end, no matter what David’s feelings may have been, his actions seemed to have said, “Oh, well, boys will be boys.”  David, who should have loved Tamar, did nothing.

That inaction must have said to Tamar that she was nothing, her feelings were of no consequence.  Keep peace in the family was the order of the day.  Don’t air our dirty laundry was the implicit rule which trumped the violation she had experienced.

No wonder the various translations have used such a variety of words to describe this poor young woman’s state of mind.  We’re told Tamar was desolate, grief-stricken, sad, lonely, bitter, and depressed.  Her life would never be the same.  In a single moment, she went from an innocent young girl wearing a garment that proclaimed her as a virgin to wearing the signs of one in mourning. 

And she was in mourning, mourning for her future.  In that culture, marriage was out of the question.  She would spend the rest of her days alone, the beneficiary of charity.  Had she not been a princess, she might have had to make her livelihood by selling herself.  In our day, a woman who had experienced such a secret outrage might marry but often the marriage is haunted by the memory of her betrayal by those who should have loved and protected her.

Absalom’s parting comment must have cut his sister deeply.  She has just experienced the most traumatic experience any woman can have and her brother says,”Don’t let this upset you so much!”  it is as if he had said, “Look, it happens, don’t give it another thought.  Forget it and get on with your life.”  Of course, in that culture, and any culture she couldn’t just get on with her life.  She needed the freedom to vent her feelings, to rage at the wrong done to her;  but, instead, she was told to be silent—for the good of the family.  

When we jump ahead some three thousand years, we in the Christian family must do better for the victims who are our brothers and sisters.

What can the church and Christian families do?

To begin with, we need to renew our belief in the notion of human sinfulness.  We need to be careful that we don’t fail to believe a victim because we can’t or won’t believe a respectable man or woman is capable of victimizing someone.  The fear that they won’t be believed keeps many victims silent.

We also need to affirm our commitment to protect the weak and helpless, especially children.  Jesus demonstrated his love and concern for children.  He would not allow them to be discounted by a world of adults.  While the Bible underscores the need for children to have regular discipline, it clearly tells parents there are boundaries that must not be trespassed.  In a world in which a father could beat his child to death without consequences, Paul told Christian fathers “do not provoke your children, or they may lose heart.”^[2]   The abuse of children cannot be “proof-texted” from anything said in the Scripture.  Needless to say, the sexual abuse of children can find no justification in the Scripture.

Yet, men and women in our churches have been victims of this kind of abuse.  We need to make sure that nothing in what we say or do suggests they were responsible.  In the same way, we need to make sure these victims know they can share their painful history without fear of recriminations.  If it hasn’t been done already, we need to banish from our community any remaining stigma attached to seeking counseling.

Now, for some more focused suggestions.  If you have been a victim, you likely will never “forget” what happened to you but you may be able to move on to a new and satisfying life.  Each of these suggestions might be better followed under the guidance of a skilled counselor.

1.  Be prepared to look deeply and honestly into your past and into your present so you may know how your life has been impacted by that past.

2.  With the same honesty look at your relationships, past and present.  Remember you may have to be willing to reset some boundaries.

3.  If you discover your experiences have left you with addictions, take steps to master them.

4.  Recognize you may have to “leave home” emotionally, even if you’ve done so physically.  Because you didn’t get what you really needed at home you may keep going back for that nurture.  You’ll only be disappointed again.  With God’s help you may have to ‘reparent’ yourself.

5.  Grieve your losses, feel the pain, and strive to move on to a new level of maturity.

6.  Consider how you might forgive the abuser without placing yourself back in the path of abuse.  That act of forgiveness will benefit you more than it will the abuser.   [In some situations, forgiveness is all you may hope for; reconciliation might be impossible or hazardous.]

7.  Develop a new self-perception.  With God’s help, see yourself as capable of receiving and giving love, standing up for your rights, and moving on to a new life.

8.  Embrace new opportunities and experiences.  Take off the fear and protective armor you’ve been wearing and enter into life with your new God-given confidence.

9.  Be accountable for your relationships.  Don’t slip into the position where you might once again become a victim.

10.  Take a periodical self-test to see how you are doing.

Conclusion

Some of you hearing this sermon may be saying, “Why is he saying this?”  Some of you may be saying, “Why hasn’t he said this before?” 

To both questions I’ll simply say, I never want our church to be a place where the shame of silence allows abuse to continue and allow those hurting to continue to hurt.

If we take seriously Jesus’ promise of a new life, we must believe that new life can transform those who have known this darkest kind of abuse.

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^[1] The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. Nashville : Thomas Nelson, 1996, c1989, S. 2 Sa 13:21

^[2] The Holy Bible : New Revised Standard Version. Nashville : Thomas Nelson, 1996, c1989, S. Col 3:21