I remember that one of the most difficult things that I had to do when I began teaching Hebrew and Greek was to figure out exactly how to teach a subject that is daunting to many, boring to most, and difficult for everyone. You see, in seminary, Greek and Hebrew are required courses. You can’t graduate from most programs without taking them, although that has changed a bit in previous years, to my dismay anyway. And so, like taking a pill that is bitter on the way down, many people approach taking the biblical languages in seminary like they do swallowing an antibiotic. They pop the pill down and take a big swig of water and try to do it all at once. But the problem with language learning is that it just doesn’t work in large doses. Language learning happens in fits and starts. It happens one word at a time, sometimes one letter at a time. And so, while schools teach many students languages, by the time they graduate, they may have forgotten most of what they learned because languages are often learned in the first year, rendering the languages useless to help them in their studies and, most importantly, in their ministry.  In my mind, this defeats the purpose of learning the languages entirely, but for many students, this is adequate because the goal of learning for them is to get through the program.

For the rare student though that understands how languages are best acquired, the languages become a permanent feature of their life and ministry. The teaching has gotten through in a way that it becomes a part of their mental architecture, the way they think, process, and look at the world. So, the difference is not a question of content. The “flood” method and learning bit by bit both result in the same material gain for the student. The difference comes in the depth of how that material seeps into the mind. For the student who uses the incremental approach, the bit by bit, moment by moment, sometimes letter-by-letter approach, the material becomes part of the way they think, act, and process. But for the student who chooses the quick “pill swallowing” method, the material is always external, always something you access in a distinct part of your mind. It never becomes part of who you are, and what you think, and even how you think.

In today’s portion of our sermon series, we examine the story of the Bible, we continue looking at the life of Jesus. So far, we’ve looked at predictions of Jesus as the Messiah, the King of Israel. We’ve looked at how Jesus fulfills the role that Israel was to fulfill in the story of God. Many elements in Jesus’ life and ministry parallel those of Israel. Indeed, in a more profound sense, they accomplish what humanity has been tasked with from the beginning. And that task is to love God by loving our neighbor well.

Now at this point you may think, “Well, here he goes again. Love God, love neighbor. Doesn’t he say that every sermon?” As a matter of fact, I think I do. And why do I keep saying that? Because repetition is one of the most effective teaching tools. Now looking at the face of it, Jesus only says that the greatest commandment is to love God and love neighbor once and recorded in only two Gospels. If I were an engineer or a librarian, I might make the argument that love of God and neighbor are NOT the central portion of his teaching, as it is only mentioned once. However, that type of analysis does not do justice to the type of literature we’re dealing with in the Gospels. The Gospels are not a detached travelogue. They are not merely a list of the accomplishments of a great person. In fact, most scholars agree that the gospels are a unique genre, a unique type of literature, that describes the accomplishments of Jesus as he fulfills the role of God in the flesh. They are not a biography that we would encounter today, in which folks try to portray themselves in their best light. They are trying their best to get you, the reader, the hearer, to believe the message of the one they describe. They are preaching documents, if you will. And because they are preaching documents, there is a substance, a content to the preaching. The authors, guided by God’s Holy Spirit, have presented to us the core teachings of Jesus wrapped in the story of his life and ministry. I would argue this is one of the most effective teaching methods ever devised.

And as we approach the Gospels as Christians, as people of faith, we should ask ourselves some questions. In addition to the question of what we are reading, we might ask ourselves WHY are we reading? For many Christians, reading scripture or coming to church derives primarily from a sense of obligation. In other words, we feel we ought to do it, and therefore we attend, we read, we give. And I’m not saying that that is necessarily a wrong thing. I do believe we ought to attend church. I do believe we should read the scriptures. I do believe we should give often, and generously. However, there may be more reasons besides a sense of duty to study and search the scriptures.

This brings us to the heart of the debate that Jesus had with his fellow Jews in his life and ministry. The Gospels depict Jesus interacting with the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Scribes, and the common folk of the land. In each interaction, one method of reading and interpreting the Bible is compared with that of Jesus. The Sadducees, those that controlled the temple and generally the wealthy elite of the Jewish people, often used scripture to justify their tight control of the temple and preserve their grip of power. The Pharisees, by contrast, were middle class, and were trying their best to preserve the ancient teachings of Judaism, in other words, they were conservative in that they wanted to conserve the identity and heritage of their people, keeping to tradition and old ways; they sought to do that by adding extra structure to reinforce the teachings that they had inherited from previous generations. And the common people of the land, most of these people were too poor to study the Torah. Many of them were too busy working, cleaning, and just surviving to attend weekly or daily religious services. Many of them were unlettered— ignorant, perhaps even of the ancestral law. Since they didn’t have time or opportunity to sit around and discuss, what they knew of their history and their faith was learned by listening to a teacher. In other words, all they knew is what they were told. And now let us ask a question.

To whom does Jesus address most of his teachings? Is he addressing the learned? Is he addressing those in power? Or is he addressing those that know nothing? If you look at the Gospels, you will see that by and large, the teachings that Jesus demonstrates are directed primarily to the disciples, and at once you’ll say, “Oh, he is directing it to the learned, those that are closest to Jesus, those that know him best.” But then we must ask ourselves, who are the disciples? Were the disciples Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes? No. The disciples were from the common people of the land. The disciples were fishermen and tax collectors. Jesus hung around with publicans and sinners, women (who were often denied education), not the elite and powerful. So, the disciples, by and large, were unlettered, were unable to carry on a learned discourse about the Law of Moses. But as Paul writes, “God chooses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise”, and Jesus chose those with open hearts and open minds, rather than those with educational credentials. Perhaps those of us in ministry, especially those with more than a few letters behind our name, should take note of that from time to time when we are looking for people to fill positions.

Now here we might be tempted to say “Aha, a seminary education means nothing for ministry. It’s all about character It’s all about God’s choice.” But I think that would be to err in the other direction There is a sense in which we can choose those for positions of power in the church based solely on their resume, solely on their credentials and their ability to answer and academic forms and essay questions well. However, we should not counter this extreme by choosing individuals with no formal education, no ministry experience, and no qualifying characteristics. That’s NOT what why Jesus chose the disciples, merely because they were unlearned men. Jesus DID look at the resume of those he sought that followed him. Jesus DID look at the content of their characters, looked at their reliability their integrity, their ability to undergo the trials and temptations that would come to each of them. Remember that for the disciples, many of them suffered for their faith and their testimony. Indeed, it was only the Apostle John that died of a natural cause and he was taken prisoner in his ninth decade, so not exactly an easy life for him either.

Next week, we are going to examine some of Jesus’ teaching in depth, by talking about the parables. But today I want to take a more foundational look at Jesus’ teaching. How does Jesus teach his followers? In what places, to what groups, by what methodologies does he teach? To start, especially in Matthew’s Gospel, there are five large blocks of teaching. Perhaps the most famous of these is the Sermon on the Mount. But throughout Matthew’s Gospel, there are four other major blocks of teaching as well. Jesus doesn’t teach all at once. He doesn’t employ the flood method. These blocks of teaching are broken up by Jesus demonstrating his right to teach based on his relationship with the Father. Jesus backs up his teaching, he provides his credentials, and he does so through his miracles and his interactions with the people he meets. “You have heard it said” with “But I say to you…” He challenges the conventional wisdom, some of it even found in Scripture itself. So what? Why should anyone listen to that? Because Jesus demonstrates what it is to love God and neighbor through his ministry of healing, through his ministry of exorcism, through his ministry of choosing the weak over the strong, of going to those that are despised and rejected by the common folk, and providing them access: access to the temple by healing, access to a restored relationship with others through cleansing, through forgiveness, access to dignity and restored place in the neighborhood and society. All of this adds to Jesus’ resume so that a first century hearer of the Gospel would understand that Jesus had the authority to forgive sins, not merely because he was a good person, but because he was indeed God in the flesh. The Gospels are evangelistic documents, that’s why we call the Gospels writers the evangelists. They are not merely providing a dispassionate view of history; the evangelists are trying to convince you that Jesus is who He said He is. They are the Proclaimers, not just claiming Jesus walked 500 miles, but showing how he actually walked 500 more, to be the only man who was also God.

Another remarkable thing about the Gospels is that they don’t present the disciples as model students. They do not present the disciples perhaps even in a positive light. Several commentators have pointed out that the disciples are presented as clumsy, lacking in faith, and occasionally deceitful. And I don’t just mean Judas. Peter doesn’t come across very well in the Gospels, does he? But yet he goes on to be the leader of the Twelve at Jesus’ own request. And there seem to be constant quarrels about who is the best disciple. How is it, then, that the Gospels model for us what it is to be a learner—If those that follow Jesus didn’t get it themselves?

When you come to that point, you are right where the Gospel writers want you. It is precisely at the point that you realize that the Twelve that follow Jesus are failures, that you switch from trying to acquire knowledge to trying to acquire wisdom. You switch from the flood method to the bit-by-bit approach. You see, so many of us approach the Bible as a book of answers, as a book more akin to a Chilton manual for our Chevy Vega, or a Reader’s Digest how-to to home improvement book found at a thrift shop. Or, as my students thought, a book to break the code of the Bible and teach them the ONE correct interpretation of the Hebrew and Greek. Some then think of the Bible as a step-by-step tutorial rather a book to provoke our own thoughts and reflections. But if you ask our Jewish friends— if you would go talk to a Rabbi, you will find by and large that that is not the approach that Jews, then or now, use to approach the Bible. The Scriptures indeed show us how people lived, but not always in a way that models for US how to live. We are not called to live like Saul and David, Elijah and Elisha, or even Peter and Paul, but we ARE called to learn from their lives. We are called to learn from their example. And that is the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Knowledge is about information. Knowledge is about knowing the Greek participle in all of its myriad forms. It’s about knowing Hebrew word order. But wisdom is about transformation. Wisdom is knowing when to use information, how to apply it, the attitude with which it is wielded. Wisdom is recognizing when the focus on grammar and syntax should be relegated to the side because the author is using poor grammar to prove a point. Just like I often do. I begin a sentence with “and” or “but” and that is frowned upon, and you English teachers out there know it. But rhetoric and writing are two different arts, aren’t they? (rhetorical question)

They operate with a common toolbox but with a different set of rules. That is why I get so frustrated by the grammar program I use sometimes. It tells me to avoid repetition. It tells me to avoid certain sentence structures that do not work well in writing. But sermons are not meant to be read, are they? And neither were the Gospels. The Gospels were meant to be heard—even performed. And most importantly, the Gospels were meant to be re-enacted in the lives of those that heard it. In other words, we are to find ourselves as part of the story. We are to find ourselves in the lives of the disciples. We will find ourselves bungling, trying to figure out what Jesus is saying, who he is and exactly how to follow him. We will have as many fits and starts as a Peter or a Paul or a John or even a Judas. We are to learn from their example, to re-enact their part in the story in our own contexts. We are to learn from Jesus. We are to learn from the disciples as they failed to learn from Jesus. We are to love God. We are to love neighbor, but not so much by imitation, but by iteration. I know that word may not be familiar to you, but it is very common in the world of design and engineering. Iteration is repetition with slight variation. Think of it this way: When a designer or engineer is looking to create a new toy, they will come up with a mock-up. And then to test its appeal to children, they will present it in many colors, many sizes, perhaps with slightly different options. Each one of these is an iteration, a repetition with a slight difference. My friends, that is what we are called to be, iterations of the great pattern that Jesus and the disciples exhibited. We are to love God and love neighbors exactly like Jesus did, but in our own contexts. Perhaps some of us have different gifting. Perhaps some of us have different talents. But we all sit at the feet of the same Master. We all hear the same lesson. But we enact it differently. Some of us are called to teach, others to preach, others to music, some to service, some perhaps to baking and cooking, some yet to administration and finance. A few have several gifts and talents that they can use for the kingdom of God. Regardless of our calling, our mission is the same, to proclaim, to enact, to bring about the kingdom of God in our time, in our place. And we do so by love. Love is the essence of the universe. And love is the essence of the universe because love is the essence of God. Love is the essence of the Godhead because God lives as an eternal community we call the Trinity. Love is the essence of the teaching of Jesus. Love of God and therefore love of neighbor created in God’s image. It really is that simple. But it is very complex. Wouldn’t you agree? Amen.