20th June 2010 SERMON ‘Clothed With Christ’ -Rev Allister Lane
Texts: Galatians 3:23–29and Luke 8:26–39
For those who have heard my sermons before..., you may have noticed that I seldom employ illustrations from the world of sport.
However, this morning I’m almost forced to break this pattern.
There can be little doubt that for New Zealanders, the ‘play of the week’ was ‘that goal’ scored against Slovakia in the final 30 seconds of the World Cup game.
The jubilation of the goal scorer Winston Reid seemed undiminished when the referee handed him a yellow card for having peeled his shirt off.
Why do footballers do that? It seems almost unique as an expression of jubilation – to take your clothes off.
As fun as a sermon might be, that focused on clothes being taken off, our two Bible readings this morning speak to us of putting clothes on (sorry if you’re already disappointed!).
The putting on of clothes is described in both readings as being somehow linked with who we become because of Jesus Christ.
In the Gospel of Luke, we hear about a man who’s had a really rough time. He’s been tormented not by one demon but by a ‘Legion’ of demons.
For some time this man had been driven by these tormenting spirits away from his house, his town, his community into the wilds, where he lived ‘in the tombs.’ He was relegated to a graveyard.
And for some time this man had worn no clothes.
Many times people had put chains and shackles on him, only for the spirits inside him to break free and drive him into the wild.
He may have broken free of the shackles, but he was a prisoner to evil which had a merciless and unrelenting grip on him.
However change was coming.
It arrived the day that Jesus stepped off the boat onto the shores of that region. That day this man’s life changed completely. The liberation power of Jesus, God’s Messiah, set the man free from the whirlwind of torment that dominated his existence.
The Gospel writer tracks the bizarre details...
from identifying the massive evil force that was present,
and the herd of swine plunging to their death in the lake,
to the result of those people who knew this man finding him “sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.” (v35)
For those people who came to see what had happened, the first observable change they would have seen was that the man now had clothes on.
This was the first sign that the life of this man had been transformed by his encounter with Jesus. Putting clothes on was the sign that he had been set free from his torment; that he had been transformed and given a new identity.
It is this truth about God’s promise of change that is expressed in the metaphor in today’s reading from Galatians.
Paul expresses the theological truth, that an encounter by Jesus brings liberation, transformation and identification.
And what is that metaphor that Paul uses?
We are clothed with Christ; we put on Christ like a new garment; we wear the ‘brand’ of Christ.
Our baptism plunges us into the reality of Christ – his life, death and resurrection – and this is like being clothed with this reality.
We become identified with the reality of Christ, sharing in what is his.
Without wanting to stretch this metaphor to tearing point...,
I think it says something helpful for who we are because of Christ:
We are covered (every part of us),
We are protected, (by the power of God against anything that’s not of God)
We are distinctive (we can now be identified as belonging to Christ),
We share something in common, (like I was saying with the kids, we are on Christ’s team, working together for God.)
We are part of the worldwide church, and within that the Reformed tradition (which this veryday celebrates the coming together of the World Communion of Reformed Churches. We know today especially that we are part of 80 million other Reformed Christians).
But far more importantly than that, we know that we are united in common with every other Christian, because of the one baptism in Christ.
Being ‘clothed in Christ’ is a promise to us through our baptism, but there are implication for us.
It’s not simply to give us a sense of privilege. It doesn’t mean we strut around in our Christly clothes like we are wearing the latest fashion.
Being ‘clothed in Christ’ actually identifies us in a very challenging way.
A trainee in Police College was sitting his final exam and came across this question:
You are on patrol in the city when an explosion occurs in a gas main in a nearby street.
On investigation you find that a large hole has been blown in the footpath and there is an overturned van lying nearby.
Inside the van there is a strong smell of alcohol.
Both occupants—a man and a woman—are injured. You recognise the woman as the wife of your police sergeant, who is presently out of town.
A passing motorist stops to offer you assistance and you realize that he is a man who is wanted for armed robbery.
Suddenly a man runs out of a nearby house, shouting that his wife is expecting a baby and that the shock of the explosion has made the birth imminent.
Bearing in mind the provisions of the Mental Health Act, describe in a few words what action you would take.
The police officer thought for a moment, picked up his pen, and wrote:
“I would take off my uniform and mingle with the crowd.”[1]
Like the distinctive uniform of a police officer, those of us who are ‘clothed with Christ’ are identifiable and have responsibilities to share what we have received from God with others. This is what it means to join in God’s mission.
In today’s Gospel story, Jesus instructed the man he had encountered to return home, to those he knew, to declare how much God has done for him.
And almost certainly, when the man returned home, it would not be just his speaking that would declare the change God had brought, his whole life would show that he was now ‘clothed with Christ’.
Up to this point, the person in the story I have suggested we identify most with is the demon-possessed man whom Jesus restored to wholeness.
But let me offer us all a final challenge: by imagining that we are like some of the other people in the story.
As already mentioned, the crowds of people from the surrounding area, who knew the demon-possessed man, came and found him restored – “sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.”
But we are told of their rather bizarre reaction:
“...they were seized with great fear.” (v37)
Why were they afraid?
Wouldn’t it seem like they should be impressed, or even jubilant at this man’s improved state?
If we are honest something that can induce fear in all of us is change.
And that’s what the crowd of locals recognise: there has been a change.
They may not necessarily have liked this crazy man hanging out among the tombs with no clothes on, but they knew what to expect – they had compartmentalised this man.
Primarily they had compartmentalised this man away from where they were.
Now he’s sitting down clothed; he’s completely changed!
And this change causes fear; what will God do next in our community?
We might accept in our minds that God comes in power to transform – we have probably experienced that for ourselves in some way – but what about God bringing change to situations around us, things that we are used to and in some way depend on?
Are there people whom we’d prefer to leave compartmentalised away from us?
Are there structures in our society, that whilst not ideal, at least we can depend on them?
What aspects of our society might we not really like, but, at the same time, may not really be that motivated to see change?
Let me offer one possibility: our penal system.
We may accept that imprisonment is not ideal, but isn’t it just an unfortunate necessity?
Currently, there are changes in process to give harsher punishments to offenders. The ‘Three Strikes’ approach is being advanced in the hope that a ‘no-nonsense’ message will reduce offending; or perhaps it’s to remove our fear of offenders being in our communities.
What if our conviction that God’s promise to bring change was brought into connection with our approach to imprisonment?
The implication for us (who trust in the promises of God) would be a shift away from punishment toward meaningful restoration.
This approach would mean being unable to compartmentalise people as offenders; but helping them to be better people, giving them a leg up, extending them some trust to enable them to take up their responsibilities as members of society.
This would involve risk – if you going to trust someone, you have to take a risk. And such a change will probably give us a cause for some fear.
But aren’t we convinced that God is a God of forgiveness and restoration?!
Isn’t our belief in God’s power to transform people strong enough for us to dare to take the risk to see people restored, rather than compartmentalised away from us?
The challenge confronting the people in the story, was God bringing change to their community, and the uncertainty of it brought fear.
But what God promises us is greater than fear.
The Word of God says to us:
“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.” (1 John 4:18)
Are we – who are clothed in Christ – prepared to be identified with Christ and the change God brings?
Are we prepared to be known as Christians baptised into Christ, and to share with others, with our whole being, what we have received from God?
As we sing the next hymn, let us think of it as a daring prayer – for it is a prayer that asks God to bring change.
[1] Adapted from the Alpha Course material.