January 9, 2022 – Real Relationships: Accept Ambiguity
View the Sermon
First Reading = Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 (Baptism of the Lord Sunday)
15As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
21Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, 22and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Introduction
We are starting a new series for the next several weeks. I have felt strongly that we need to place our focus and emphasis on relationships this year. Restoring relationships, re-investing in relationships, forming new relationships, relationships with family and friends and church members and our community. Relationships are the medium through which Jesus typically works, and that medium has been stretched and torn during this strange time.
So we’re going to spend the next several weeks talking about real relationships. We’re going to give you principles for relating with each other in love, decency, respect, and honesty. We’re going to move beyond “how’s the weather!” And if relationships are where Jesus is on the move, that’s where we need to be focusing as well.
Today we’re going to start off by talking about how to accept ambiguity. I have a friend who is an economist, and I like to tease him sometimes. Because a lot of economic theories start off by assuming a rational actor. So I tell him, “I’ll let you know when I find one of those.” People aren’t fully-integrated rational beings that are explainable through assertions and rules and formulas. People are complicated. People are ambiguous.
And we’re going to lean into that instead of ignoring it. Let’s start by looking at one of the complicated disciples: Simon Peter.
Sermon Reading = Matthew 16:13-23
13Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” 14And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” 15He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” 16Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” 17And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. 18And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. 19I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” 20Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah. 21From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” 23But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
What Ambiguity?
My corporate sponsorship with Disney requires me to insert a certain number of Marvel and Star Wars references into my sermons every year, so let’s get it started. Pop quiz! Call it out if you know the answers.
Superman’s secret identity is: Clark Kent!
Spider Man’s secret identity is: Peter Parker!
Darth Vader’s secret identity is: Anakin Skywalker!
Nicely done. But let’s think about those secret identities. Is Peter Parker really Peter Parker, or is he really Spider Man?
Is Clark Kent really Clark Kent, or is he really Super Man? Or is he really his Kryptonian identity? Does anyone know Superman’s Kryptonian name? Kal-El!
Is Anakin Skywalker a good little boy from a desert planet, a Clone Wars hero, a galactic super-villain Sith Lord, or the Chosen One who destroyed the evil Emperor at the end?
Those questions have been the fodder for countless comic books and shows and movies and videogames and whatever else they can get people to buy. There is no definitive answer. There is a fundamental “yes…but…” to all of those aspects of their identities. They are ambiguous.
One of the characters in popular contemporary novelist Jonathan Franzen’s novel Freedom, Joey Berglund, reflects on life and identity by referring to selfhood as “a collection of contradictory potential someones.”
Let me say that again because I like it: selfhood is “a collection of contradictory potential someones.”
I sometimes say that it’s good my wife didn’t meet me when we were in middle school, because I was a painfully shy uber-geek with a crudely macabre sense of humor and a not-so-subtle sense of intellectual superiority. I am no longer that person. But in some senses I still am. That past is still bouncing around in my brain and heart somewhere. It’s part of my collection of contradictory potential someones. It’s part of my ambiguity.
Peter’s Ambiguity
And of all of Jesus’ disciples, surely Peter embodied this ambiguity. In our text today, we see Peter’s incredible faith! In verse 16, “Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah!… And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”
That’s high praise from Jesus! Peter was perfectly on point in his faith and in his words and in his actions in these verses. Way to go, Peter!
But just a few verses later in our text, when Jesus was telling them that he had to die, “Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Ouch! In just a few verses, Peter was the foundational rock of the church and the embodiment of Satan! Peter’s got range, man! And the difficult thing to realize is that both of these are true at the same time. Peter is simultaneously incredibly faithful and totally missing the bigger point of Jesus. Peter is simultaneously the one who stepped out of the boat to walk on water and the one who denied even knowing Jesus three times at his crucifixion. He was complicated. He was ambiguous. Just like us.
This has been one of my gripes about how we interpret important people for a long time. It feels like we just try to boil people down into a caricature. A person who did some noteworthy bad things must be a mustachioed villain dressed in black at all times and in all ways in every phase of their lives. And a person who did some noteworthy good things must be Charlton Heston’s Moses – strong-jawed, good-looking, confident, and clearly good in all times and in all ways. But if you read the Bible, you see that Moses was also a murderer. He is simultaneously the great prophet and someone with a vengeful and murderous past. Both are true! He was complicated! He was ambiguous! And he was loved by God all the same.
Our Ambiguity
It’s tough to find anyone who’s all good or all bad. A person can do something incredible and be a jerk. A person can fail morally in one weak moment and be an otherwise honest and trustworthy person. We, like Peter, contain contradictory potential someones within us. We are complicated. We are ambiguous. And, like Peter, we are loved by Jesus all the same.
After the Romans conquered Greece, they became very fond of Greek culture. Greek artifacts and imports became marks of status among the Roman elite – especially marble sculptures. But many of the sculptures were a few hundred years old. And no one had invented bubble wrap yet, so things got damaged in shipping.
So some merchants discovered that they could fill in the chipped pieces with bits of wax. At the time of purchase, it looked perfect. But the wax would harden and discolor over time, and it would be obvious that the sculpture had been hastily repaired.
To distinguish their fully-authentic, non-waxed sculptures, merchants labeled them as “without wax.” In Latin, that’s “sine cera.” And that’s where we get the word “sincere.” Original. Whole. Not waxed.
But we just heard Peter’s story. He had some wax in his life. He wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t unvarnished. He wasn’t without blemish. He wasn’t “sine cera.” He wasn’t perfectly sincere. He was complicated. He was ambiguous. He had some wax in his life.
I have some wax in my life. I have some blemishes. I’m not perfect. I’m not perfectly sincere. I’m not “sine cera.” I’m complicated. I’m ambiguous. I have some wax in my life.
How about you? Do you have a collection of contradictory potential someones inside you? Do you have any wax? Are you complicated? Are you ambiguous? Are you “sine cera”, or do you have some blemishes and wax in your life?
But here’s the important part. If you’ve been making your shopping list in your head for the last couple of minutes, come back and pay attention. This is important.
We are all blemished. We are all complicated. We are all ambiguous. And that’s OK. Jesus knows all of that (including the stuff we have successfully hidden from ourselves), and he loves us. You and I are fully known – wax and all. And we are fully loved. This is not a sermon about perfecting your blemishes. This is a sermon about accepting people’s ambiguity – including our own. Because Jesus accepts our ambiguity. And who are we to argue with him?
I’ve heard from therapists and counselors that the lies we believe about ourselves all boil down to three fundamental lies. These aren’t true, but we believe versions of these. Here they are: “I’m helpless. I’m worthless. I’m unlovable.” Those are lies! But we believe them about ourselves. “I’m helpless. I’m worthless. I’m unlovable.” Those are lies. Do you believe a version of one of those about yourself right now?
Jesus confronts those lies. Jesus didn’t say I’m helpless. He said his followers would do even greater things than he did! Jesus didn’t say I’m worthless. He sacrificed his life for me – that’s how valuable I am! Jesus didn’t say I’m unlovable. Jesus said he would be with me always, even to the end of the age!
So accept your own ambiguity, your own wax, because Jesus does. And who are we to argue with him?
Others’ Ambiguity
So it’s a lie to say, “I’m helpless.” It’s a lie to say, “I’m worthless.” It’s a lie to say, “I’m unlovable.” Are you with me?
So then isn’t it also a lie to say, “He’s helpless?” Isn’t it also a lie to say, “She’s worthless?” Isn’t it also a lie to say, “They’re unlovable?”
Jesus saw our blemishes and saw our wax – we didn’t fool him – and he decided to buy us anyway. He saw the wax and the marble at the same time. He saw the complexity. He saw the ambiguity. He bought us anyway.
Jesus saw the same complexity, the same ambiguity, the same mixture of marble and wax in other people. And he bought them anyway, too.
They’re not helpless. They’re not worthless. They’re not unlovable. Jesus bought them, too. And who are we to argue with him?
Part of having real relationships is accepting ambiguity and complexity – our own and other people’s. This doesn’t require you to pretend that wax is marble. Jesus didn’t pretend. But this does require seeing the value in other people – wax and all – and offering the love of Christ.
I’ve read before that there are an estimated 33,000 Christian denominations in the world. If you just want to count Presbyterian denominations in the US, I count at least thirteen that are noteworthy enough to have thousands of members. Over the last several years, there has definitely been some migration of the saints between those Presbyterian denominations.
I don’t think that’s all bad. Sometimes we need to be where we feel at home. God created a wide array of plants and animals and rocks and trees and kinds of people. Maybe there need to be different kinds of churches for different kinds of people. That’s not all bad.
But I do believe it’s bad when we see those other churches, those other takes on how to be faithful to Jesus, as helpless, worthless, or unlovable. Jesus bought them, too. And who are we to argue with him?
There might be people in your family who are complex, ambiguous, a lot of wax and not a lot of marble that you can see. They aren’t helpless. They aren’t worthless. They aren’t unlovable. Jesus saw their wax and their marble for what they were, and he bought them, too.
There might be neighbors who are complex, ambiguous, a lot of wax and not a lot of marble that you can see. They aren’t helpless. They aren’t worthless. They aren’t unlovable. Jesus saw their wax and their marble for what they were, and he bought them, too.
People are complex. People are ambiguous. People have some marble, and people have some wax. Having real relationships means seeing the marble and the wax for what they are, while also loving people enough to accept their complexity and ambiguity at the same time.
And guess what? They’re having to accept your ambiguity, too. To sit here today, you’re having to accept my ambiguity. <LOOK AROUND WORRIED> But I hope my wax isn’t showing today!?!
Summary
Sisters and brothers, you aren’t helpless. That’s a lie. You aren’t worthless. That’s a lie. You aren’t unlovable. That’s a lie. But other people aren’t helpless, worthless, or unlovable, either. It’s a lie to say that about them, too.
Jesus sees our wax. Jesus sees our marble. Jesus buys us and loves us anyway. May we demonstrate the same acceptance of ambiguity in our real relationships. Amen.
