New Testament Reading—Galatians 3: 23-29
Earlier this year, I went through a month of fascination with the TV show Supernanny. Have any of you seen this show? For those of you unfamiliar with it, it is a reality TV series about Jo Frost, a nanny who visits families with struggling parents as they confront problems ranging from bath-time mutinies to bedtime curfew violations. Frost begins her visits to the families by first observing how the parents interact with their kids as she takes note of any reoccurring issues they face. Once she makes her assessment she then proceeds to instruct the parents on various techniques for disciplining and rewarding their children. Some of the techniques include having “House Rules,” using “chill-out zones,” and, most importantly, saying “well done” in praise of good behavior.
In doing some internet research on the show, I discovered a couple of things. One is that not everyone agrees with some of Supernanny’s techniques, especially the infamous “Naughty Step,” a place where children sit during their timeouts. Another is there exists an animated parody of Supernanny. In the parody, “Supernanny tries to use her powers of discipline to take over the world.” To accomplish this, she must first dispatch with Captain Hero, an imitation Superman. To keep him from intervening in her plans, Supernanny sends Captain Hero to the Naughty Stool. With him out of the way, Supernanny then invades the White House with “an army of mind-controlled children.” Luckily, Captain Hero manages to escape from the Naughty Stool in time to save the day.
Well, you can breathe a sigh of relief because my intention this morning is not to propose the use of a Naughty Pew, especially since I don’t want to find that I am one who is sent there most frequently. Some of you church historians might know that revivalists in the 1800s used to have their own version of the Naughty Pew. They called it the “anxious bench.” It was a front pew designated for sinners to sit in as they “agitated about their spiritual state.” I see we’ve got plenty of room up here if any of you would like to come forward. Just joking…While such techniques might not be for us today, I do think the Supernanny is a close modern day parallel to the “disciplinarian” mentioned in our text for today. In our reading, Paul tells the Galatians they are no longer under the rule of the “disciplinarian,” otherwise known as the law. Instead, the faith of the Galatians has made them children of God.
So what’s Paul talking about here with this stuff about the law being the disciplinarian from which the Galatians have been freed? The word “disciplinarian” is actually a rough and inadequate translation for a Greek word referring to a slave or a servant used by the master of a household to discipline and guide his children—in other words, an old-time version of the nanny. Paul is in essence saying that for people of faith the law has been like a supernanny. It has disciplined and guided them through their adolescent years, and now has come the time when the children of the household have grown up and are ready to live without supervision. A supernanny is no longer required. Paul, however, was not writing to Israelites who had been under the law. He was writing to Gentiles, and what a relief these words must have been for them. Otherwise, they would have been faced with the requirements of circumcision and the like in order to be considered children of God.
Paul has often been quoted for anti-Semitic reasons, so it’s important to remember that Paul himself was a Jew, and he wasn’t attacking Jewish people. He was instead trying to reform the faith to which he belonged, so that it would become more universal, so that Gentiles could count themselves as children of God as well. While circumcision and the Hebrew law may no longer be hot issues in churches, I think on a different level we are facing a situation similar to Paul’s as a UCC church. A number of UCC churches along with churches from other denominations have been involved in something of a reform movement within Christianity. Some of us call it progressive Christianity, but regardless of what we call it, we are talking about a movement to reform Christianity into a religion that is open and affirming of more people, more faiths, more perspectives. We are talking about a religion that allows us to take the Bible seriously rather than literally. And, despite what some people might say, I think it means we are talking about a religion that doesn’t belong to any one political party. The UCC is often associated with liberal politics, but when I think about the diversity of this church and other UCC churches of which I have been a part, I like to think that being UCC doesn’t mean we are all liberals. Ideally, I like to think it means that we are all Christians in a denomination generally striving to be open to people of different views and perspectives.
I once had a conversation with a member of another church, and I was telling her that I didn’t see the Bible as the literal word of God. I couldn’t get much more out of my mouth before she said, “But that just means people can do whatever they want.” Before I could explain myself or say anything more, she turned to go the other way. As brief as that encounter was, I was in essence caught in a Pauline moment. The woman I encountered wanted the strict and rigid supernanny God who would lay down the law for her and for everyone else. There is a comfort and a security in that. There is also a danger, because it doesn’t acknowledge how the strict supernanny God often becomes the Trojan horse for some rather unholy and thoroughly human causes. I don’t think promoting a supernanny God is always a conscious act of deception, but I think the pronouncements of the strict supernanny God often seem to amplify the preacher’s voice more than they amplify God’s voice.
But before I begin casting stones, let me make a confession. Earlier this year, I was visiting some friends, and they have this kid who could win all sorts of awards for cuteness and adorability. Now these friends of mine happen to have very different worldviews than my own. I have never found this to necessarily be an inhibitor to friendship. Nevertheless, I confess that I found myself worrying about the future of the child. He may be cute now and have all sorts of bright things to say for a kid his age, but what’s going happen later? God forbid that he should think and vote like his parents. Somebody needs to intervene! Somebody needs to save this kid before it’s too late!
Of course, coinciding with these worries of mine was also a rather self-congratulating fantasy: that what the world really needs is a bunch of miniature Brookses running around. Or, better yet, a big supernanny version of Brooks that tells everyone else what to think and do. Luckily, I was able to catch myself in my fantasy before I started a program of emergency intervention into the kid’s life and ordered from Amazon various treatises and manifestos sent to his home under the guise of birthday presents.
Well, then, if a giant supernanny version of Brooks is not the answer, what is? Should we avoid talking about our differences? Or, are churches supposed to be places where people with different perspectives can get together
and discuss what is best for society and for our children in a civilized and productive manner? Otherwise, wouldn’t we run the risk of being a religion for the ostrich, a religion for those who stick their heads in the sand while all sorts of injustices go on in the world?
If the right thing for us as Christians is to engage and discuss the critical issues facing the world, as Jesus did during his time, then how are we to do this without trying the inevitably doomed task of seeking to convert others to become just like ourselves? In his letter to the Galatians, I don’t think Paul was saying that everyone needed to be alike. I think Paul was acknowledging the reality that we live in a world that divides Jews from Greeks, slaves and free persons, men from women, while at the same time saying all those hierarchies and differences shouldn’t keep us from coming together as Christians. Paul didn’t then give to us a set of rules and regulations for how to behave when we get together. That would be like replacing one supernanny with another.
So what does Paul leave us with? Paul points us toward Christ. Paul does this by reminding us of our baptism. It’s in our baptism that we clothe ourselves in Christ. In ancient times, when Christians got baptized, they would first disrobe on one side of the baptistery, symbolizing the shedding of their old life. They would then immerse themselves in the water, and emerge on the other side where they would put on new garments, symbolizing their new life in Christ. In a culture where people covered almost their entire bodies in clothes, this was significant. In a culture where you could tell a person’s country of origin, occupation, and social class by what they wore, this was even more significant. Therefore, when people became Christian, their identity as Christians trumped everything else that marked them.
So what does this mean for us today? The next time you disagree with the person sitting next to you in church, don’t just see them as some pinko liberal or some Rush Limbaugh conservative. See them as wearing the garments of Christ. The next time you want to complain about your pastor’s sermons, don’t just send him to the naughty pew. Remember that he’s a part of the Christian family too. And, the next time you find yourself wanting Sam or any other kid to be just like you, remember the day they were baptized and rejoice in that. Amen.