Tell the Whole Truth
There is a question in our baptismal covenant that sounds simple enough when we are standing around the font. Most of us answer it without hesitation:
"Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?"
We say, "I do." Or, "We do." Or we remember saying it once upon a time.
And then often we move on.
But I wonder what happens when really let what we are saying sink in.
Because this vow is not asking whether we oppose evil in theory.
Most people oppose evil in theory.
It is asking:
· Whether we are willing to recognize evil when it is close enough to make us uncomfortable.
· Whether we are willing to name injustice when doing so costs us something.
· Whether we are willing to resist oppression when we are among those who somehow benefit.
That is a much harder question.
Perhaps that is why Ephesians 4 begins where it does.
After three chapters that reflect on God's grace, God's love, God's reconciling work in Christ, the author pivots here.
"Therefore."
That one word is a gateway that changes everything. Because theology (thinking about God) is never meant to stay just theology. The way we think about God is intended to shape how we move in the world.
Love is meant to become practice.
Grace is meant to become action.
Faith is meant to become a way of life.
"Therefore," the writer says, "lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called."
Notice what comes next.
Not certainty.
Not power.
Not victory.
Not influence. Nope.
What comes next is:
Humility.
Gentleness.
Patience.
Bearing with one another in love.
Making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
In the spirit of truth telling, that is not always how I imagine resistance.
When I think about resisting evil, injustice, and oppression, I tend to imagine courage. Conviction. Boldness. Prophetic voices. Protest.
And certainly those things matter and have their place.
But Ephesians begins somewhere else. It begins with community.
Because the writer understands something that we often forget:
· Before we can tell the truth to the world, we have to learn how to tell the truth to one another.
· Before we can confront injustice around us, we have to allow God to confront injustice within us.
· Before we can become agents of transformation, we have to be transformed ourselves.
The church is meant to be the place where that transformation happens.
And that is why this text matters so much right now.
As a nation, we are standing on the edge of a significant milestone.
In just a short time, the United States will celebrate two hundred and fifty years.
There will be parades.
Speeches.
Fireworks.
Patriotic songs.
Stories about who we have been.
Stories about who we hope to become.
And some of those stories will be true.
But some will be incomplete.
Because the temptation of every nation—
and every family,
every congregation,
every human being—
is to tell only the parts of the story that make us feel and look good.
To edit out the painful parts.
To smooth over the rough edges.
To ignore the wounds that have not yet healed.
But followers of Jesus are called to tell the whole truth.
Not because we enjoy criticism.
Not because we are cynical.
Not because we are trying to make anyone feel guilty.
But because truth is where healing begins.
You cannot heal what you refuse to name.
You cannot repair what you refuse to see.
You cannot resist evil, injustice, and oppression if you cannot recognize them.
And that brings us to what I think is the most important verse in today’s text.
Verse 15.
Most translations render it this way:
“Speaking the truth in love.”
Many of us have heard that phrase before.
Usually when someone is trying to have a difficult conversation.
I want to speak the truth in love here.
Usually when someone wants permission to say something uncomfortable.
Let me speak truth in love.
But the Greek is actually richer than that.
The word here suggests something closer to "living the truth in love."
Practicing truth.
Embodying truth.
Becoming truthful people.
This is not merely about what comes out of our mouths.
It is about the shape of our lives and the way we move in the world.
“ Speaking the truth and love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ…”
The church, as the body of Christ in the world, is called to become a community that lives truthfully.
A community that refuses deception.
A community that refuses scapegoating.
A community that refuses to settle for easy answers.
A community that is willing to look honestly at itself and at the world.
And then responds with love.
Notice the order.
Truth and love.
Not truth without love.
And not love without truth.
Both.
Always both.
Because truth without love becomes cruelty.
And love without truth becomes sentimentality.
The gospel refuses both options.
The gospel calls us to “truthing” in love - to becoming a people who are honest enough to tell the truth and compassionate enough to remain in relationship with one another when we do.
That is hard work.
· It is much easier to retreat into our corners.
· It is much easier to surround ourselves with people who already agree with us.
· It is much easier to caricature those who see the world differently.
· It is much easier to protect our comfort.
But comfort is not the goal of discipleship.
Being more like Jesus is.
And Jesus has a habit of leading people beyond their comfort zones.
Just ask Peter.
Or Mary Magdalene.
Or the Samaritan woman.
Or Paul.
…Or John Wesley.
Wesley understood something essential about the Christian life.
He believed there is no holiness except social holiness.
Now, he did not mean that holiness is achieved through social activity.
He meant that holiness happens in relationship. We cannot become who God is calling us to be alone.
We need one another.
We need communities that challenge us.
Communities that encourage us.
Communities that hold us accountable.
Communities that teach us how to love.
But Wesley’s vision did not stop there.
Social holiness is not simply about helping one another become better Jesus followers.
It is about becoming the kind of people through whom Christ can love the world.
We gather so that we can be sent.
We tell the truth to one another so that we can tell the truth in the public square.
We learn forgiveness so that we can become agents of reconciliation.
We practice justice with one another so that we can recognize injustice when we encounter it beyond these walls.
We learn how to love one another here so that we can love our neighbors more faithfully out there.
Wesley never imagined class meetings, bands, or societies as spiritual hiding places from the world.
(Maybe we put that into more culturally relevant lingo… Wesley never imagined Sunday school classes or small groups or committees as spiritual hiding places from the world.)
They were and are training grounds for discipleship. Places where people were shaped by grace and then sent into prisons, schools, factories, neighborhoods, and fields to bear witness to the transforming love of God.
That sounds remarkably like what the author of Ephesians is describing.
Apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers are not given to create a religious club. They are given to equip the saints for ministry.
To prepare ordinary people for extraordinary work.
To shape a community that can leave this building and embody Christ wherever God sends them.
The church is not the destination.
The church is where we are formed for the journey.
And the goal is not a few gifted leaders doing ministry while everyone else watches.
The goal is a church full of disciples.
People who know who they are.
People who know whose they are.
People who are rooted deeply enough in God's love that they can tell the truth without fear.
People who are grounded firmly enough in God's grace that they can confront injustice without losing hope.
People who are secure enough in God's belovedness that they can resist oppression without becoming consumed by anger.
People who can embody Christ in the world.
And friends, that kind of formation matters because evil, injustice, and oppression are not abstractions.
They are real.
They are present.
They continue to alter lives and communities.
Sometimes they appear dramatically.
Sometimes they appear quietly.
Sometimes they wear the language of religion.
Sometimes they wear the language of patriotism.
Sometimes they wear the language of economics.
Sometimes they wear the language of fear.
The forms of evil, injustice and oppression change.
The vow we make does not. We are called to resist.
Not because we are trying to win arguments.
Not because we are trying to gain power.
But because every person bears the image of God. Every person is beloved. Every person is worthy of dignity. Every person belongs within the circle of God's love.
And when that dignity is denied,
when that belovedness is diminished,
when that image is distorted and disrespected,
followers of Jesus are called to respond.
Not with hatred.
Not with violence.
Not with contempt.
But with truth. And with love. Always both.
Truth and love.
That is the calling before us.
That is what it means to live worthy of the calling we have received.
That is what it means to remember our baptismal call to accept our freedom and power to resist.
Perhaps THAT is what our world most needs from the church right now.
Not another institution obsessed with protecting itself.
Not another group committed to winning culture wars.
Not another echo chamber.
But a community rooted so deeply in the love of God that it can tell the whole truth.
A community mature enough to resist evil, injustice, and oppression.
A community courageous enough to leave comfort behind.
A community shaped by Christ and shaping one another.
A community becoming a tangible sign of God's love and justice in the world.
May we become and be such a people.
Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment