The Ant Trap

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Romans 6:1-10

September 1, 2013 • Portage First UMC

VIDEO INTRO

Quick show of hands: how many of you move the furniture in your homes around every once in a while? How many of you still have the furniture in the same place you put it when you moved into your home? For those of you who move yours around, how often do you do it? My parents were ones who moved the furniture around every couple of months or so. Now, the rooms in our home weren’t huge, so there were really only two or three ways it would all fit together. But we never knew when we came home from school when the room might be completely different than it had been when we had left that morning. And that made it especially difficult to sneak downstairs at night for a midnight snack. The knees sometimes took a beating when we would run into something that hadn’t been there the day before! When we would ask why they moved the furniture around, we’d usually get an explanation like, “Well, we just wanted something different.” (You know, now that I think about it, they don’t move stuff around now that Doug and I aren’t home anymore. Maybe it was just to keep us on our toes!)

We live in a restless culture, one that isn’t very often satisfied with what they have—materially, physically, spiritually, whatever area of life you can name. We’re restless, often moving on to the next thing (spouse, friend, job, church) just as easily as we move around the furniture in our homes. We think if we alter this part of our life or move this around, or exchange this for that…if we just make a few changes (nothing too hard, of course), life will be better. But it’s not, because at a base level, nothing’s really changed. It’s the same “furniture,” just in a different place. The problem is not the furniture of our lives. It’s deeper than that. The problem has to do with who we are and, more importantly, whose we are.

For the next few weeks, our sermon series is going to center around the topic of “Empty Promises,” and we’re going to be focusing on those things in our lives that we put in the place of God. We’re going to be talking about idolatry, about the things we worship. Now, when we hear the word “idolatry,” we might think of a little statue, those idols that the Old Testament talks about. And those were things that Old Testament preachers, the ones we call the prophets, were constantly concerned about. It was always a risk, always a challenge to get the Jewish people away from worshipping those little statues. Isaiah even points out to the people how ridiculous it is to take a piece of wood, cut it in half, make an idol out of half of it that you would bow down and worship, and use the other half to cook your food. And yet, that’s exactly what many people were doing. But not us, we say. We wouldn’t do anything that ridiculous. Thank goodness we don’t have idols anymore! Right? Or do we? Today’s idols are really much larger and much sneakier than those of Biblical times. They invade our lives in much more subtle ways. Idols are still very much present.

Maybe to understand that, we need to have a definition of idolatry. What, exactly, is an idol? Most of us, when we hear that word, think of Ryan Seacrest and American Idol, right? But an idol is really something much more powerful and consuming than a television reality competition. Sometimes we hear it put this way: an idol is anything that takes the place of God. But, in some ways, that’s too easy a definition, because often the idols actually occupy a higher place in our lives than God ever has. A bit closer to the point is this definition from Pastor Mike Slaughter, that an idol is “anything, or anyone, that receives the primary focus of my energy or resources, which should first belong to God” (Slaughter, shiny gods, pg. 17). In other words, an idol is what we worship first—and, make no mistake, we will worship something or someone. We human beings are wired to worship. We may worship another person, our intellect, our stuff, our patriotism, or something else, but we will worship. We’re wired to give allegiance to something, even if that “something” is ourselves. Some people today worship themselves. So let’s sum it up this way: idolatry, the worship of idols, happens when “I look to something that does not have God’s power to give me what only God has the power and authority to give.” In other words, it’s when try to fill that God-shaped space within us with something other than God (Wilson, Empty Promises, pgs. 3-5).

The problem with idolatry is that the idols in our lives make promises they can’t keep. They promise life, or popularity, or success, or simply feeling good about yourself—and yet nothing we worship in this world can completely satisfy the needs we have. Nothing we worship can ever hold up to the promise it makes. Over the next few weeks, we’re going to see how various idols in our world—probably some you come in contact with each and every day—make promises and fail to keep them, leaving us broken and empty. And yet, we remain convinced that they are the path to the good life. That’s why today we worship celebrities—hence, American Idol (cf. Wilson 23). It’s well named! We believe, whether we give voice to it or not, that they—the celebrities, our idols—have found the secret to everything good in life. If I could just be like—fill in the blank of your favorite celebrity. And yet, every time, because they are human, they let us down. Look at the furor that was raised this last week over the performance of one-time Disney kid Miley Cyrus at the VMAs. What was the outcry about? Miley didn’t do anything that other celebrities haven’t done before. But the outcry came from people who have looked up to her, who have put her on a pedestal in the past. And now, like so many before, her choices have caused people to realize the empty promises such worship always ends in. I’m not beating up on Miley; I just want us to see how the promises our idols make can never be fulfilled in the way we want. So, over the next few weeks, we’re going to be talking about idols like success and achievement, approval and affirmation, greed and money, beauty, and power. And if you don’t see yourself somewhere in this, you might want to check your pulse, because idols surround us and beckon to us each and every day.

And that’s why Paul warned the Roman church in the way he did. The letter to the Romans, many think, was something Paul wrote to explain what he believed and what he preached. He was hoping, we think, to use the city of Rome as a base from which to launch a new mission to Spain. He didn’t start the church in Rome; in fact, as far as we know, he had never been there. So he’s writing this letter to prepare them for his visit, his arrival. It’s an introductory letter of sorts. And so, in the beginning of the letter, in the chapters that lead up to this morning’s reading, Paul is talking a lot about the problem: sin, to put it bluntly. He’s talking about our rebellion against God. And, just as a small tangent, one of the controversies in the news lately has been about a song called “In Christ Alone,” a song we sing here. One denomination has refused to allow it into their hymnal because it talks about the “wrath” of God. You know what? So does Paul, in Romans and elsewhere. The problem is that when we hear the word “wrath,” we think of uncontrolled, even abusive, anger. But when the Biblical writers talk about wrath, particularly God’s wrath, they’re not picturing God hurling lightning bolts or zapping people because he’s emotionally out of control. “Wrath” really is a response to sin. It’s God’s righteous response to sin, to our rebellion, something, Paul points out, only Jesus could overcome. Jesus, by offering himself, paid the debt we owe because of our sin. And some people will say (have said), “Well, I didn’t ask him to.” No, you’re right, none of us did. But he paid our debt anyway. He made a way that things could be right between us and God. That’s what the songwriters mean when they say, “On that cross, as Jesus died, the wrath of God was satisfied.” That’s straight from Paul.

Because of that, then, Paul says sin has been taken care of for those who trust in Jesus. At the end of chapter 5, he puts it beautifully: “Where sin increased, grace increased all the more” (5:20). No matter how bad your sin or my sin, what Jesus did on the cross still pays our debt. You cannot sin so badly that God’s grace is overwhelmed. Where sin increased, grace abounded. And so, some said, if sinning brings in more of God’s grace, then we should sin more so we can get more grace. Right? That’s the thinking many people have; it’s summed up in the popular phrase, “It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission.” I’ve had people say to me, “I know this is a sin, but I’m go ahead and do it, because God has to forgive me, right? That’s God’s job.” And it is true; God will forgive. But what’s the nature of our repentance if we go into the situation knowing we’re breaking God’s law? “Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?” Paul asks. And then, emphatically, he says, “By no means!” (6:1-2). Another translation says it even more forcefully: “Absolutely not! How can we die to a life where sin ruled over us and then invite sin back into our lives?” (The Voice New Testament, pg. 263). Good question, Paul. How, indeed?

Understanding what Paul is saying here really requires us to grasp two ideas, the first of which is his writing about baptism. For Paul, baptism is a symbol of death—death to an old, sinful life. He talks about being “buried” at the time of baptism. But it’s not just about death; baptism is also about resurrection, about new life. For Paul, baptism is the moment when a person passes from one life to the next, from a life of sin to a life in Christ. In fact, it’s not too much to say that Paul considered baptism the moment when someone changes from one kind of humanity to another (cf. Wright, Paul for Everyone: Romans, Part One, pg. 101). Today, we take baptism too lightly. We’ve turned what was once a revolutionary act into something tame, nice and obligatory. Baptism was and is meant to be life-changing. Now, this is not an argument for or against infant or childhood baptism. There is good evidence in both the New Testament and the life of the early church for such practices. What I am saying is that we need to take the vows we make seriously. Parents, when you bring your children for baptism, you are promising to raise them in the Christian faith, to help them draw closer to Jesus. You are promising that, from the moment they are baptized on, their life will not be like the world’s. You are promising to raise them in such a way that they want to pursue Jesus and the not the idols of the world. And we believe that happens best in community, which is why baptism is always connected to the local church. Same thing for adults. When you’re baptized, you’re promising to leave behind what Paul calls the “old self.” In fact, Paul says that, in baptism, the “old self” is crucified (6:6). You know what that means? It’s dead. The “old self” dies at baptism. It’s a brutal image, and it’s meant to be. No one survived a crucifixion, and those in Rome certainly knew that was true.

Now, when a person is baptized, they might not feel dead. They might not feel any different than they did before the water hit their head. But it’s like what happens in a wedding. Two people come, and they are made one. Something has happened and life as they knew it is gone, in an instant. They may not feel any different, but a change has taken place that will shape every moment from then on. Promises have been made; promises can’t be unmade. They can be broken, or they can be kept. But they can’t be unmade. Your old life will not survive a wedding. You are changed, whether you feel it or not (cf. Wright 102). In the same way, Paul says, your old self should not be able to survive your baptism. If you’ve been baptized, you’ve promised and vowed not to go back to that old life. And therefore, Paul says, “anyone who has died has been set free from sin” (6:7). You don’t have to sin anymore, because you have died in baptism. What we do in baptism is more than just sprinkle water on your head. Baptism is the death of your old life and the beginning of your new life. Baptism is a promise to raise a child so that they will come to accept that new life for themselves. Baptism ought to change the world.

That new life, then, Paul describes as being “in Christ” (6:3). Sometimes we talk about having Jesus in our lives, or that Jesus is a friend who goes with us everywhere. Those are nice sentiments, but Paul has something much more radical in mind. You see, if Jesus is just someone who accompanies us as we go through life, then it’s as easy to ignore him as to pay attention to him. We won’t admit it, but that’s the way we sometimes treat those who are our friends. They ask us to do something, and we may or may not do it, depending on our feelings or how much energy we have that day, or any number of factors. That’s why Paul isn’t talking about us “inviting Jesus to live in our lives.” He says we have died and when we are raised again, we are “in Christ.” Not only are we inseparable from Jesus, but he is actually in control. We’re “in him.” He is our life (cf. Colossians 3:4). William Barclay put it this way: “We cannot live our physical life unless we are in the air and the air is in us; unless we are in Christ, and Christ is in us, we cannot live the life of God” (The Letter to the Romans, pg. 86). We are in Christ, and therefore, Paul says, we are called to live a Christlike life. N. T. Wright translates verse four this way: “Just as the Messiah was raised from the dead through the father’s glory, we too might behave with a new quality of life” (97). We can’t come to Jesus and live the same way we always have. The Christian life is not about moving the furniture around to just make things look different. The Christian life is about changing where you live! You are no longer “in sin,” Paul says, but “in Christ.”

Because of all this, then, our allegiance and our worship must be directed toward Jesus alone. As we grow more “in Christ,” the empty promises of the idols will become more and more evident. However, it’s very often true that the idols look so much more attractive than being “in Christ.” They promise instant payoffs, immediate gratification, and even some glorification of ourselves. They distract us; that’s why Pastor Mike Slaughter calls idols “shiny gods.” In our state of spiritual ADD, the shiny gods often capture our attention and our heart. And that’s why we’re going to be talking about them over the next few weeks, so that we can avoid being caught like ants in an ant trap.

You know the kind, I would imagine. It’s the sort of thing you can go down to Ace Hardware and buy when ants invade your home, as they often do in this sandy soil around here. They especially like to come into your house—in droves, mind you—when your child leaves food under the bed in their downstairs room. They really like to come in when the food is sweet and sticky. (Not that we know anything about such a situation, but I’ve heard stories!) So you go to clean said child’s room, and you find the food, covered with ants—what do you do? You can call an exterminator, or you can go down and ask Norm at Ace where the ant traps are. One option you might get there is a simple product that only asks you to squirt some gel on a small piece of cardboard and then place it where you’ve seen the ants. The gel contains something that attracts the ants; the ants eat the gel and then take it back to their nest to offer their friends. While the gel tastes good to the ants, it’s also poison for them to consume. This sort of ant trap will cause hundreds and hundreds of ants to line up in single file across the floor to get this gel. The little ones will climb on top of each other to get to this stuff, and they have no idea that their pursuit of this sweet, shiny substance will lead to their demise.

That’s a picture of how many Christians live in today’s culture. We line up by the thousands trying to pursue what we’ve been convinced and told is the “good life.” And while the very things we chase look good or feel good or taste good, so much of it is also poison to our souls (cf. Wilson 23-24). C. S. Lewis put it this way: “Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise” (Mere Christianity).

So, what is it that you worship? Here are some questions (they’re also printed on your sermon study guide this week) for us to ponder this week. The answers to these questions will begin to show us the idols in our lives. Here are the questions: What occupies my mind? What do I spend time daydreaming about? Who or what do I tend to be jealous of? What do I spend most of my time doing? And where does the majority of my money go (Wilson 21). If any of those questions make you even a bit uncomfortable, we’re on the right path—the path toward full life “in Christ.”

Jesus gave his life so that we could have life in him. That’s what we remember and celebrate every time we share in this bread and in this cup. I think it’s appropriate that both at the beginning of this series and at the end, we’ll be sharing in the sacrament of holy communion, because communion reminds us who we are. If baptism makes us who we are, recipients of a new life, then communion is the constant reminder of our baptism, of our promises to God and, even more, of God’s promises to us. And God’s promises will always be kept. The psalmist says, “The Lord is trustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does” (145:13), and Paul wrote, “No matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:20). God will keep his promises; this bread and this cup remind us of that truth. And so, as we begin to confront our idols, the false and shiny gods that we worship in place of the one who loves us and who wants to save us, we come to his table. The bread is his body. The juice is his blood. The table reminds us of his love, offered to each and every person. Jesus promises new life to all who will receive him, for “the death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God” (6:10). May the same be said of us. So let’s come to his table as grateful people, and as people who long more and more to be “in Christ.”