Why does PJ wear those 'God Clothes?'

Am I seeking the approval of God, or of man?

That's the question that Paul asks in the reading from Galatians for this last Sunday, and it's a funny thing to ask, because of what we've done to Jesus over progressive years.  That is, we've made those two things into the same thing.

I'll elaborate.  Over successive generations, the presence of Jesus in the world, that awesome lion of Judah and consuming fire, he's been a bit of an interesting customer - fully human and fully divine.  The savior of the entire world, and of all of creation.  And that's a heavenly mantle for him to bear, and a heavy mantle for us to see on him.  And when he lowers the boom on us (as he frequently does), he says something like 'be perfect, therefore, just as your heavenly father is perfect.' And we get a little upset with it.

Perfection is not something we feel comfortable in grasping.  It's a frightening thing to even consider, so when the possibility of it coming up arrives in our consciousness, we rush to knock it down.  And when Jesus shows up with perfection of his own, we get a little leery of the whole thing.  And we know that he commanded us to be perfect just as God is perfect, so we have a couple of options.  We can either be perfect as God is perfect, or we can, mentally at least, make God a little less perfect in our heads all the time.

And that's what it's turned into.  It turned into that quite some time ago, in which God became a bit of a convenient vessel for us to see ourselves in.  As usual, we conform him to us, rather than us to him.  And believe it or not, that is classic Pharisee operation.

Now I'm well aware that calling someone a Pharisee in a religious debate is the equivalent of ye old reductio ad hitlerum, but in this case, it happens to be valid.  The trouble with the majority of Christianity today is that nobody wants to look at the Pharisee in the mirror.  But why do you think that Jesus spent so much time opposing the Pharisees?

Because if he was hungry, he'd talk about food.

The major opponents to Jesus, and the prime target for his anger was the Pharisees, the chief priests, the scribes, the elders of the people, or in other words, the people who had gotten so close to God that they had no need for God.  To use a sort of coarse metaphor, but bear with me, it's sort of analogous to being in a marriage.  Why do you think affairs happen?  Well, for a wide variety of reasons, but part of the deal is that we get really complacent in our relationships, and we get bored and tired of it all.  For gentlemen, it's the same centerfold every month.  And what happens?  Guys (and ladies too) end up getting very relaxed in their relationship, and no longer feel the need to work on it.  After a while, you get so close to your spouse that you no longer need your spouse.  You two are in a relationship, so you get reallly slack with trying to impress your spouse, and you stop being as active in the caring department as you should be.  And as time wears on, you start to think much more that your spouse should be meeting your needs, rather than you meeting theirs in any real meaningful way.

It's the same with God, for the Pharisees as well as for us.  Oh, sure, it all starts out with the best of intentions, but we realize quickly that if we please God, he's awfully quiet about it.  It's the same as pleasing your spouse.  Part of the problem that my wife and I have is that I expect praise for accomplishing mundane tasks, and my wife feels as though that's just part of the married expectations as far as running the house goes.  That is, I regard it as a herculean accomplishment to keep my socks off the floor, whereas my wife would view that as just part of what you do when you're married, and you have a home together.  It's the same way with God.  He has an expectation for you as a Christian, and when you do what you do, what response do you get?

Will any of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to 

him when he has come in from the field:

'Come at once and recline at table?' 

Will he not rather say :

'Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I 

eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink?'

Does he thank the servant for doing what he was commanded?  

So you, also, when you have done all that you were commanded say:

'we are unworthy servants, we have only done what was our duty.'

Luke 17:7-10

Oh, what?  Is this for real?  After a lifetime of Christian service, you're supposed to just acknowledge it as your duty, and carry on?  Wow.  You're not supposed to make a big deal about it, you're not supposed to make a production over how much of a great neat guy you are.  You're supposed to just do what you're commanded to do, without any thought of how it might get you ahead.

But that flies against everything we want.  We want to be recognized, we want to be seen, we want to be lauded and appreciated, we want to be admired.  We live for the pats on the head.  And part of the reason that Jesus was so harsh on the Pharisees, again, was that they really felt as though they had earned the snuggles, the cuddles, and the love of God, by where they were born, and what they had done.

Now, it's into this world that I as a pastor walk.  Do I seek the approval of God or man?  Well, have you seen me dress?  If you're at church only on Sunday mornings, there's a good chance that you have no idea that I own other shirts.  You may have only ever seen me in one particular type of shirt, the clerical collar.  And what in the world am I doing wearing such a thing? And where do I get them?

Well, to answer the last question first, I get the shirts from Burns Hanley here in Regina, a Catholic store.  Don't tell them I'm a protestant!  That's all except for the shirt that my wife made for me as a wedding gift.  I wear that one when I perform weddings.

Now, it may surprise you that I do own other shirts.  A lot of other shirts.  And ties.  A magnificent array of ties.  And ascots, and bowties, and all that.  And with men in the business casual world of today, the tie and the suit, although largely similar, do allow for some degree of personalization.  But the idea with the shirts I wear, and with the robes I wear on Sunday morning as well, is that I'm supposed to be indistinguishable from all the other pastors you've ever met.  You're not supposed to see me, you're supposed to see Christ.  When I speak the absolution to you, you're not supposed to feel as though you're listening to Jim Chimirri-Russell, you're supposed to be listening directly to Jesus your Lord.  When I preach the word of God, you're not supposed to hear me speaking law and pronouncing Gospel, you're supposed to hear it from God Himself.  I'm supposed to be getting out of the way of the Gospel as much as humanly possible.  And that's tough to do, especially for a guy like myself, who likes to get nice compliments and have people tell me that I changed their lives and somesuch.  I want to hear that I did a good job, and I crave hearing that I did well, and that I was useful.  And when I get into thinking that way, it's good for me to remember that Jesus essentially requires humility.

This isn't Jesus. It's Phil Collins

As I quoted earlier, don't think that I was quoting from the scriptures just for you, I'm quoting for me, too.  I'm quoting for me, saying that Jesus Christ requires us to be humble.  Requires me to be humble.  He requires me, after I've done what I thought I had to do for the day, to get dressed again, and serve at his table.  He requires me to be as concealed as possible in the line of what I do, so that people don't see me, and so that they see Christ behind me.  It's as John the Baptist said about Jesus Christ "He must increase, and I must decrease."

That's true for me, and it's true for you, too.  It's a real thing that you, as an individual Christian, need to be aware of how you have to decrease, and Christ needs to increase.  That sounds bad, again, but it's actually a good thing, for a couple of reasons.  Firstly, for the right and proper reason that Christ's righteousness is what gives you grace.  If you're the big noise in the situation, you're never going to earn God's love.  You're too much of a mess!  And if you don't believe that, then you haven't looked closely enough, and the Christian church has nothing to offer you.

A real Phil Collins would never have a beard.

The other reason is a little bit more practical - if you decrease and Christ increases, then the world won't see you when it sees the church, and its worth.  Here's a simple test: have you ever found yourselves having to explain your way, as a Christian around someone like the Westboro Baptist Church, or abortion clinic bombers, or what have you, and told the people whom you were speaking to 'yes, but they're not real Christians.  Real Christians would never do anything like that.  Well, that's the great thing about this topic - by that definition, you're not a real Christian either.  And nor am I.  Would real Christians go around with malice in their hearts?  Would real Christians be smug or wrathful? Would real Christians be smug and proud of themselves?  Would real Christians be ardent pornographers?  Would real Christians deny Jesus Christ three times before breakfast, would real Christians call down hellfire on towns that didn't like them very much, would real Christians call into question the validity of the resurrection?

Oh, right, they totally would.  They did.  The last three did in the New Testament.  But when we look at the New Testament, we don't see that Peter was a coward, or that the sons of thunder were out for blood, or that Thomas flat out thought that the resurrection didn't happen.  We forget that, because we see Christ, and anyone else fits in around him.  Thanks be to God, that that's what can, and should happen today too!

Are you here to please God or man?  If you're here to please man, then you are going to have to be the single most moral, upright person on earth, because you stand alone.  And by the measure you use, by that measure you will be measured.  But if you're here to please God, then he must increase, and you must decrease.  Then you won't get the pats on the head from human beings that you want, but that's a good thing! Instead, you'll get covered over with the robe of Christ's righteousness, in the same way that my robes hide my individual clothing choices, as well as my big ol fat gut.  I'm covered up, and then it's not about me, it's about Christ.  It's the same way with you, although it'll be less obvious in your daily life.  But you absolutely cannot and should not claim to be a better person because of your Christian life.

You're just a forgiven person.  Would a real Christian do all the stuff you do in secret?  Not a chance.  Would a real Christian be forgiven of all his sins?  He or she absolutely would.

PJ.