The heading on our worship bulletin reminds us that this is Reformation Sunday. In saying that, I am especially aware of how diverse this congregation is. The word diversity means different things in churches, signifying not only racial inclusiveness and a wide range of ages but also the inclusion of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people. Diversity in this church and some other churches points also to the range of religious backgrounds represented in the congregation. On any given Sunday we have former or present Roman Catholics with us, non-practicing or practicing Jewish people with us, different varieties of Protestants with us, and some people who have been or still are agnostics or atheists. So it is that the term Reformation Sunday will have different meanings or no meaning at all to people in church today.
We celebrate Reformation Sunday on the Sunday before October 31st, the anniversary of Martin Luther's nailing of 95 topics for debate on a cathedral door in Germany in 1517. In times past Protestant Churches sometimes used Reformation Sunday as an opportunity to point out the faults of the Roman Catholic Church, while conveniently forgetting the faults of Protestantism. I never found that to be helpful. Instead, I want to say something this morning about who we are as Presbyterians, one part of the Protestant Church.
In the sixteenth century Martin Luther, a German man of peasant stock, was on his way to becoming a lawyer. His career path took a sudden turn when, after a near-death experience in a thunderstorm, he made a vow to Saint Anne to become a monk if she delivered him from dying in the storm. He survived the storm and kept his promise, much to the displeasure of his father. As a monk, he read and studied the Bible, and he lectured in theology, which is the study of God. In his reading of the Bible, especially Paul's letters to the Romans and to the Galatians, Martin Luther became convinced that the Christian Church as it existed in Europe at that time, had corrupted the message of the Gospel, and had, in fact, become corrupt itself as an institution. He set about to reform the church by returning it to its original understanding of the Gospel, the good news of God's unconditional, inclusive love, and by reducing the power of the Bishop of Rome, otherwise know as the Pope.
Martin Luther publicized his ideas through preaching, lecturing, and by extensive writing. His ideas spread rapidly, in part because of the use of moveable type developed in Mainz, Germany shortly before the time of Luther. Moveable type made books, tracts, and pamphlets available in much larger quantities than they had been when manuscripts had to be copied by hand. With the development of printed books and pamphlets, literacy (the ability to read) ceased to be the privilege of a few and became the right of many.
Some time ago Nancy and I attended a performance of the opera Andrea Chénier at the Metropolitan Opera. The setting of the opera is France in the late eighteenth century, at the beginning of the French Revolution. At one point in the drama, Carlo Gérard, chief servant of a count and countess, expresses his anger at the abuse of himself and his fellows by their employers, who are the aristocracy. He throws his apron at the feet of the countess and resigns from service during a formal party. To her horrified guests, the countess says, "Reading has ruined him."
As I sat in the darkened opera house, I couldn't help thinking that reading has "ruined" a lot of people, if by "ruin" we mean waking them up to all kinds of injustice so that they demand change in the way institutions and systems operate. So it was with Martin Luther in the sixteenth century.
The Presbyterian Church traces its roots back to another sixteenth century reformer, John Calvin, a Frenchman who did his major work in Geneva, Switzerland. Calvin, who never became an ordained minister, was sent to school in Paris by his working class parents. He read widely in the humanities, the Bible, and theology. He came to conclusions similar to Luther's and set out to make Geneva a city modeled on Christian principles. Like Luther, Calvin encouraged the reading of Scripture (or the Bible) by ordinary citizens, writing and publishing "commentaries" to assist in the understanding of the Bible.
Presbyterians, following the example of Calvin, have stressed the importance of education and literacy for the general populace, in part so that all church members will have the ability to read and understand the Bible, but also to enlarge the community of people equipped to think and act as responsible citizens of the world. In this country many of our institutions of higher learning, including Princeton University, were founded by Presbyterians for the training of ministers, who were expected to be well educated for their work in the church. The Presbyterian Church founded colleges and secondary schools as part of its mission strategy, never seeing sharing God's love as something that could stand apart from the total needs of human beings. That is why there are Presbyterian Hospitals in many major cities in this country as well as colleges and universities with Presbyterian origins.
Like Moses, who died before the culmination of his leading the Israelites into their Promised Land, Martin Luther and John Calvin started a reformation that lasted well beyond their sixteenth century lifetime. In fact, it is still going on. Spreading literacy is a continuing project. Bill and Milenda Gates have supported it with millions of dollars, and others have joined them.
In the Church, literacy was supposed to produce a high level of Biblical knowledge in the pew as well as in the pulpit. That too is an ongoing part of the reformation. As you know, I'm not big on guilt or shame. But I am big on challenge, and so I challenge each of you to increase you level of Biblical literacy. You may want to attend a Bible study class or series of classes. Whether or not you can do that, I challenge you to read at least one of the four Gospels in the New Testament in a single sitting. It should take a couple of hours at most, but it will be time well spent.
The Protestant Reformation, with its emphasis on literacy, contributed to a shift in authority in nations, institutions, and cultures that had a history of government by individuals like kings or bishops. The American Revolution is an example of the power of literacy to bring about a demand for shared power in place of power wielded by a single individual. King George III of England is said to have called the colonial uprising "that Presbyterian rebellion," thus highlighting the role of Biblical literacy and Christian faith in the continuing struggle for liberty and justice for all people created in the image of God—and that includes everyone, male, female, black, white, yellow, red, gay, or straight.
Presbyterians, in part because of their emphasis on general literacy and Biblical literacy, have insisted that their congregations and their denomination be governed by elected elders as well as ministers, believing that shared power is always preferable to power exercised by individuals, even when those individuals are ordained Ministers of Word and Sacrament. In the same way Presbyterians have been instrumental in bringing down totalitarian governments and replacing them with systems where power is exercised by groups of people elected by the general population.
In churches, the result of this emphasis on literacy and knowledge of the Bible has led to greater freedom on the part of church members, who no longer need to accept the power of priests or ministers to consign them to hell or heaven or to tell them absolutely how they must live their lives. You can still find Roman Catholic and Protestant churches where priests and ministers wield considerable power, but for the most part, in this country and beyond, more and more church members are doing their own thinking after taking into consideration the preaching and teaching of their pastors and teachers.
My awareness of what Protestants call The Priesthood of All Believers has made me increasingly uncomfortable with wearing a black robe, which is an academic symbol, and can imply an elevated status that separates ministers from other people. What may have been a helpful symbol at one time could now reinforce an unhealthy understanding of the pastor as a priest, when in reality we are priests to one another.
Along with greater freedom for church members comes greater responsibility to attain spiritual maturity as we attain physical and intellectual maturity. Reformation Sunday can be an occasion for remembering that we are made in such a way that our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God. The contemporary quest for "spirituality" confirms the truth of that statement made by Saint Augustine centuries ago. More and more people are discovering that their exhausting pursuit of wealth and status leaves them unfulfilled and restless deep inside. Our spirits yearn for a connection with the holy.
I believe there is widespread hunger for the knowledge that God, the ultimate authority in the universe, is a God of love, a God who affirms human beings and the goodness of human life, a God who asks of us only that we honor our creator and the creation, and that we love and care for other people as we love and care for ourselves. The Christian gospel of love originating with God and flowing through human beings is a wonderful counterpoint to the culture of selfishness, fear, and hatred threatening to destroy civilization as we know it. Our mission is to share our good news with our neighbors.
This morning on Reformation Sunday I invite you, in fact I challenge you, to take responsibility for your own spiritual life. The church, our staff, and I as your interim pastor, are here to support you, to encourage you. Let us grow in our knowledge of God's love, our experience of that love, and our ability to share it with other people. As we do that, the Reformation goes on.