"My God is not a wall": Reformation Day Sermon in Jerusalem 2018


REFORMATION SERMON 2018
The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith


Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.


A few years ago, I attended a wedding on the day before Reformation Day. After a decent amount of time at the reception, I politely excused myself and said, “I’m sorry, I really need to go home and finish my sermon. It’s Reformation Day tomorrow.”

Of course, this explanation was met with mostly blank stares from around the table where I sat.

“You know, Reformation Day!” I said again. “Martin Luther? A Mighty Fortress is our God? It’s kind of a big deal…at least, in my line of work.”

One friend—a priest—offered: “Preaching on Reformation Day shouldn’t be too hard! I mean, isn’t it just “Grace, Luther, Bible, Beer, and repeat?” 

Then another wedding guest, trying to be helpful, said, “I can write your sermon for you. The best sermon ever is just ‘God loves you—pay attention—Amen.’”

And to that, I think Luther might say, “This is most certainly true! Amen!”

Photo by Ben Gray/ELCJHL
Reformation Day is kind of a big deal for Christians in the Protestant tradition. On this day we remember that a German priest named Martin Luther posted 95 talking points on a church door to start a conversation, and instead started a movement.  On this day, we remember the Reformation motto, “ecclesia semper reformanda est” (the church is always to be reformed)—and ask the Spirit to reveal to us the ways the church still needs reformation. And on this day, I personally give thanks, because the Reformation movement has made space in the church—and in the pulpit—for a person like me. Thanks be to God!

And speaking of reform, let’s talk about that famous Reformation hymn, “A Mighty Fortress”, which we will be singing in just a few minutes. At the risk of losing my Lutheran identity card, I need to confess today that I have mixed feelings about it.

The image of God as a mighty stone building is completely understandable if you’ve literally sought refuge and safety from your enemies inside a castle, as Luther did. On the other hand, I don’t know much about castles and fortresses at all, except from Disney movies and fairytales.

But here is what I do know: I know that I live near a mighty wall, 650 kilometers (403 miles) long and 8 meters high (25 feet). I live in a place where massive cement blocks are often set in the middle of roadways, blocking patients from access to hospitals. I live in a city where “flying” checkpoints are sometimes erected overnight, dividing neighborhoods and people. 

In fact, mighty walls and impenetrable barriers are such a part of daily life in this context that I’m hearing “A Mighty Fortress” very differently now.

You see, I have a hard time imagining the God of love and justice and mercy as a wall of any kind. Not a castle wall. Not a city wall. And certainly not a separation wall. My God cannot be a wall anymore. My apologies to Luther.

Photo by Ben Gray/ELCJHL
God is not—cannot be—a wall for me today. But it’s true that the separation wall down the road is a god (little “g” god) for those who must live behind, pass through it, or drive around it. The wall is a god for those who spend time and money protecting it, reinforcing it, and building new portions of it.

Anything can become “a god” when we begin to regard it as permanent, immovable, and capable of forming the boundaries of our lives. Humans have a long history of putting our trust in false gods. We are really good at giving other people, things, ideas, or life events the power to define us and rule over us—especially things that promise to last forever, or give us security, or make us happy.

But the truth is that everything we think is permanent comes tumbling down eventually.

Everything, of course, except the one true God.  

The God of Abraham and Sarah,
the God of Paul and Mary Magdalene,
the God of Martin Luther and all the reformers,
the one true God is with us, and will be with us, long after every single thing that is not god comes tumbling down.

This is the message of Psalm 46, which we read at the beginning of this service, and which was the inspiration for “A Mighty Fortress.” As I mentioned, I don’t love the image of God as a fortress or a castle wall, but what is clear to me is Luther was trying, from his context, to interpret the heart of this beautiful psalm:

God is with us! And we have nothing to fear. 

Photo by Ben Gray/ELCJHL

 Four times the psalmist reminds us of this:

God is ever present.
God is in the city!
The Lord of hosts is with us!

And then, in case we missed it, the psalmist says it one more time:

The Lord of hosts is with usAmen!

And so the message is clear: Even when things seem to be falling apart around us, and things we thought would last forever are fading away, we have nothing to fear. We are safe and secure behind the walls of God’s love—or if I wrote it, I might say: enfolded in the arms of God’s love.

I’ll never forget the first time I read Psalm 46 and it became more than words for me. It was the 11th of September 2001, and I was sitting on the couch in front of the television in Minnesota, with my toddler at my side and my infant son in my arms, watching two tall towers in New York City crumble to the ground.

I watched for as long as I could bear, and then I turned the television channel to something the kids would like, and opened my Bible.

I opened it to Psalm 46 – not by accident, and not by divine intervention, but because I knew it was the assigned psalm for the day. For the first time in my very privileged life, I read the words of this psalm and knew what it meant to say “the nations rage, and the kingdoms shake.” I knew what it meant to say “though the earth be moved.” But I also knew in my heart what it really meant to proclaim, “God is in the city. Therefore we will not fear.” These were the words that mattered as I held my sons tight—enfolded them in my arms—and wondered what the future held for them.

Dear sisters and brothers, it felt like no accident that Psalm 46 was the appointed psalm for that Tuesday morning in September. And I must say that while I know very well that Psalm 46 is always the assigned psalm for Reformation Day, still it feels like no accident that we are reading these words on this day, and in this week.
We need to know that God is in the city—of Pittsburgh.
We need to know that God is in Gaza, and in Yemen.
And while it may seem strange to say, we often need to be reminded that God is in Jerusalem, too.

Photo by Ben Gray/ELCJHL

At this moment in history, we need to hear again that we are not alone, and that there is a power at work in the world that is stronger than pipe bombs, greater than guns, higher than walls, and louder than any political spin, hate speech, or lie. 

Of course, it is not only Psalm 46, but the whole Word of God, which is our source of comfort when things we love fall down around us. It is also our source of strength and courage when other things refuse to fall

When the powers and principalities of the world attempt to assert themselves as gods of our lives; when walls and guns, sickness and death are all shouting “I am your god!”, the Word of God gives us the courage to proclaim “NO – you are not!”

Dear friends, on Reformation Day, we never gather to worship Luther, even if it can at times feel like a “Luther love fest.” Together with the whole church, Lutherans and all Christians in the Reformed tradition gather to worship one Lord, Jesus Christ, crucified and risen.

But on this day, we do give thanks for Luther and all the reformers, whose greatest gift to us was to reform and revive our love for Holy Scripture. We can thank the Reformation movement for making it possible to read and interpret the Scriptures in our own languages, for example.

Photo by Ben Gray/ELCJHL
And we especially give thanks for the Good News revealed through those Scriptures: that through the cross of Christ, God’s love for the world was shown to be greater than the world’s love of violence, hatred, and division. There are so many mighty walls, so many mighty weapons, so many mighty sins, so many mighty stones (especially the one that blocked the entrance to the tomb on Easter morning) but when he was raised on the third day, Our Lord Jesus announced to them all: 
“God’s love is mightier.”

May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.  


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