Pawn Sacrifice is a new biographical film about U.S. Chess Grandmaster and World Champion Bobby Fischer. He rose to fame in the late 1960s and dramatically won the World Chess Championship in Reykjavik, Iceland in 1973, defeating Russian World Champion Boris Spassky.
Tobey Maguire plays Fischer, the troubled genius whose mental illness vexed and complicated his exceptional chess career. Much of the dramatic force of the movie explores (even without words) the struggles of his paranoid and delusional mind, and the obstacles his illness presented both to his own goals, but also to those around him.
His lawyer/agent, Paul Marshall, serves as the main spokesman in the film for one of the underlying plot conflicts - that of the Cold War rivalry between the U.S. and Soviet Union - which lent far more interest and symbolic value to the event in the eyes of the world. This aspect of the match should draw the attention of of movie viewers with an interest in history.
As a clergy-type, myself, I particularly appreciated the portrayal of GM Bill Lombardy, a Roman Catholic priest who served as Fischer's "Second" (his chess-training partner). This character serves well to "interpret" much of the chess "stuff" for the non-chess characters (and the audience). But I also appreciated the portrayal of a clergyman as a "regular guy", and yet also a man of wisdom. So often Hollywood portrayals of clergy make us villains or fools. I appreciated this approach.
Overall I'd recommend "Pawn Sacrifice". I enjoyed it very much.
Monday, September 28, 2015
Sermon - Mark 9:38-50 - Pentecost 18
Mark 9:38-50
Pentecost 18
9/27/15
“Divine Amputation”
Did you ever use that little phrase,
“I'd give an arm and a leg” for something? It means you really,
really want something. So bad that you'd even sacrifice an
irreplaceable part of the body for it. At least, figuratively. Yogi
Berra, who dies this past week, once quipped, “I'd give my right
arm to be ambidextrous”.
Now, obviously, Jesus doesn't want us
to go around cutting of various parts of our body. But his strong
words here are meant to jolt us out of a complacency toward sin. He
is showing us in strong and certain terms that sin is a deadly
serious problem. One that we far too often take far too lightly.
“It's no big deal” we rationalize.
“It doesn't hurt anyone else.” “Just this once.” “No one
will know.”
Think of the things we say to minimize
and justify our sin. Or we try to change the subject or shift the
blame. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” “Doesn't the Bible
say not to judge?” “Hey, it's not my fault... it's that woman
you gave to me.” or “The temptation was too strong. The Devil
made me do it.” Maybe your favorite is, “I'm only human” or
“Nobody's perfect”. Or if someone harms you, you think you can
harm them back – tit for tat – take the law into your own hands.
Jesus would have none of this. For
him, sin is a big deal. For the Father, sin is a big deal. He
doesn't wink at it or ignore it. He doesn't excuse it or accept your
lame excuses. He is a just and fair judge who does what he says, and
punishes the guilty. Yes, but that's not the whole story...
Jesus would have us take our sin
seriously. Serious as a heart attack. Serious as life and death.
For that's what sin always leads to, death, that is its wages. And
not just earthly death, but eternal death. Yes, hell is real. Most
of what we know about it comes from the lips our Jesus himself. A
place of unquenchable fire and everlasting anguish. One way of
looking of it is to be “cut off” from God for eternity. And
isn't it better to have a hand or foot cut off, than to be cut off
from God?
Yes, according to Jesus.
But it doesn't seem like such a good
idea to take the advice Jesus gives in our Gospel lesson today, does
it? If you hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off. If your eye
causes you to sin, pluck it out. And if we did take this word
literally we might see a lot of blind and handless and footless
people hobbling around. But to extend the principle further, if any
part of our body involved in sin is to be destroyed, then there
wouldn't be anything left of us. For we are corrupted, thoroughly,
through and through.
And sin cuts us off. It cuts us off
from God, and it cuts us off from each other. Think about how it is
when there's a sin hanging out there between you and a fellow
Christian. Instead of peace there's this gulf, a separation, a
distance that seems like it cannot be bridged. Sin is what breaks
relationships and puts people at enmity with each other. Sin is what
creates “us” and “them”. And as Christians, we want no part
of that. When your brother sins against you, Jesus says, go show him
his fault - with the hopes he will listen and you will be reconciled.
When you sin against your brother, confess it, ask for forgiveness,
and be reconciled to one another in Christ.
But our real problem, our first
problem, is that our sin cuts us off from our God. A holy God is by
nature set apart from sin, sinfulness and sinners. We deserve to be
cast out from his presence. We deserve to be exiled from paradise
like our first parents were from the Garden. Our sinful nature and
our own sins cut us off from God.
Our eyes lust and covet. Our hands
steal and strike. Our mind is full of twisted thoughts and ideas.
Our mouth, as James says, is a wild beast and a raging fire. And even
the human heart, which so many hold in such esteem.... follow your
heart, do it with all your heart.... Jesus says it is out of the
heart that come all sorts of evil desires and thoughts. But who can
live without his heart? So are we to die?
Yes. Die with Christ, only to rise
with him. Only Christ can save our eyes and hands and feet and
hearts. Only Christ can make every unclean, unrighteous member of
this fallen human nature clean and holy and righteous.
For his eyes were closed into a death
for us. His hands and feet were pierced and pinned to a cross for
us. His heart and lips cried out, “Father forgive them”, even as
his very life was fleeting. He was cut off by his disciples who ran
and scattered like roaches in his hour of darkness. And he himself
was cut off entirely – cut off and forsaken by the Father, “O
God, why have you forsaken me?” And it was here, in Jesus' moment
of deepest suffering that he himself experienced the worm that would
not die and the fire that is never quenched. In a mind-bending
eternal mystery he suffered hell's torments for all sinners of every
place and time. And most importantly, for you.
So by being cut off, he saves us from
being cut off. But God would still have the now-forgiven Christian
flee from sin. He would still have us take sin seriously, and avoid
in all its forms. And when we fail, when we ought to be cut off, to
rather bring those sins in confession to the one who cuts them off
from us, separates them from us – as far as the east is from the
west. A continual cycle of contrition and faith, death and rebirth,
repentance and renewal, so that we enter into our eternal rest with
him whole and undefiled.
And this happens with salt and fire.
Both preserving and purifying agents. Salt and fire here refer to
that which God uses, those practical things, to preserve and purify
us. It is by his the salt and fire of his Word and Spirit that he
does these things. That he calls us and keeps us, that he forgives
us and fortifies us.
Paul paints a picture, a grand metaphor
of the church – as the body of Christ. Each member has its role to
play. Each member needs the other. The eye can't say to the hand,
“I don't need you”. The mouth can't do it all by itself. But
Christ is the head this body. And by our baptism we are connected to
him. If we were cut off from him there would be no life in us. But
connected to him we have all the good things we need.
Sin is deathly serious. Its
consequences are eternal. But thanks and praise to him who was cut
off, so that we are not. For he makes us clean and whole, and
connects us to himself and sets us at peace with one another. In
Jesus Christ, Amen.
Monday, September 14, 2015
Sermon - Mark 9:14-23 - Pentecost 16
Mark 9:14-23
“Help my unbelief”
September 13th, 2015
“You know what your problem is?”
Don't you just love it when a conversation starts that way?
It's like, "put up your mental dukes" and
get ready for a fight. You're about to be on the receiving end of
some criticism, and when it starts that way, it's usually pretty
ham-handed and indelicate. You're about to get it from both barrels,
guns blazing, no holds barred.
Our Lord Jesus Christ sometimes lets it
loose this way, too. When he encountered the boy with the evil
spirit, in the midst of an argument between his befuddled disciples,
the Jewish scribes and a father at his wit's end. He minces no
words.
“O faithless generation, how
long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you?”
In other words, “You know what your problem is? You have no
faith!”
Today people, even
sometimes Christians, speak of faith as if it's a thing in itself. A
sort of spiritual quality of people who can remain optimistic under
difficult circumstances. When something bad happens to you, we are
told, “just have faith”! As if putting on a happy face and
thinking it will all be all right means that it will. Faith in
nothing is really worth just that... nothing.
If the culture
wants us to have faith in anything at all, it's usually in yourself.
Believe in yourself. You can do it (whatever it is). How many
Barbie movies and Sports motivational posters preach this same idea.
But you and I know that we are not worthy of such faith and trust.
Maybe when it comes to getting a degree or making the basket you can
trust your abilities. But when it comes to spiritual things, it's a
different story. If you believe only in yourself, you will soon end
up disappointing yourself. For you are not reliable, trustworthy and
you can't save yourself from yourself.
But for the
Christian, faith has an object, and that object is Jesus Christ. It
is the words and promises he speaks to us. It is that to which he
directs us, in which he tells us to believe. He is the only one
worth trusting because he is the only one with any power at all to
help us, forgive us, save us. But his power to do so is not just
barely enough, it is far more than all we need.
The Father in this
story was exasperated. His poor son was afflicted by the evil spirit
since childhood. The problem had gone on for some time. And like
many others who came to Jesus for help, he must have tried just about
everything else. But even Jesus' disciples, who had been given
authority and had even had unclean spirits obey them in Jesus' name –
even they hit a brick wall with this evil spirit.
But
not Jesus. The father approaches our Lord with his request
directly, “if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help
us.”
“If you can!” Jesus marvels. “All
things are possible for him who believes” And Jesus is back to the
faith thing again. Faith is the real issue. Do you believe, or do
you not?
And a beautiful prayer follows, “Lord
I believe, help my unbelief!” The prayer of every Christian. The
prayer of every imperfect believer who believes in Christ but
imperfectly. We do believe, but only by his grace. We do have
faith, but only by the working of His Spirit. To the extent that we
doubt and struggle, we must repent. To the extent that we fail to
trust in Christ for all good things, we are the problem! But the
solution isn't just to try harder to believe. The answer isn't the
just keep on keepin' on with our doubts and inner turmoil. The
prayer of the father shows us well. “I believe, help my unbelief”
The solution to unbelief isn't more effort or will on our part. The
solution is always Jesus himself. Only he can help.
The evil spirit would throw the boy
into water and fire to destroy him. But now he meets the One who
baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire.
The evil spirit who stopped up the ears
and paralyzed the tongue would now hear the word spoken by the Son of
God, and ears and tongue and sins would be loosed.
The boy's tormentor had left and he
fell to the ground as if dead, only to be gently raised up by the One
who was tormented to death on a cross and rose from the dead to clear
the way to life for us all.
This is not to say that Jesus will
personally appear to handle every problem you have in your day-to-day
life. This is not to say that he will heal your cancer, make your
husband come back, get you a job, or help you find a girlfriend. He
doesn't promise to take away your stress or turn enemies into friends
or make your children behave, or even your mother-in-law.
But he does better than all of that.
He dies for your sins. He rises for your life. He makes you his
own, makes you holy and righteous. He goes to prepare a place for
you, and someday he'll come back to take you with him. Then he will
wipe every tear from your eye. Then you will live free of sin
forever.
All this he promises in his word. And
all this he sends his Spirit to give you the faith to believe it.
And yet, still we struggle. Still we
doubt. Still we find that Christianity isn't easy-peezy
lemon-squeezy. And if your Christianity is that way, my friend,
you're doing it wrong.
How often does Paul attest to the
struggles within himself – and he an apostle with visions and
direct revelations from Christ! Yet he couldn't do the good he
wanted, and he did the evil he despised. You and I modern Christians
are no different. Sin comes so easy, but faithfulness is hard.
This is another aspect of being both
sinner and saint simultaneously. We want to do good but don't. We
want to stop sinning but we don't. We want to believe, but we still
have unbelief. We are both new creation and fallen sinner, New Adam
and Old Adam at odds in one person.
Lord I believe, help my unbelief! It
acknowledges both the faith that has been given, and the continuing
need for the Savior. This truly is the prayer of every Christian.
Yes, we are baptized, and in baptism
our old nature was drowned. But as one theologian has quipped, the
Old Adam has proven to be a good swimmer. And so Luther would teach
that in baptism the Old Adam is daily... daily drowned and dies with
all sinful desires. And the new man arises from the waters to live
in faith. This is the way it goes for us – repentance and renewal
– our very way of life.
Likewise we come in faith to the altar,
to receive him who can help us, him for whom all things are possible.
We are not worthy in ourselves to receive him, but by faith in these
words, “given and shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins”.
We believe it is even possible for Jesus Christ, the Son of God, to
be present with us under these humble forms of bread and wine. We
believe that he comes to us today with salvation. We believe, Lord,
but help our unbelief. And this sacrament is given to strengthen and
preserve you, and your faith, to life everlasting.
And then think of another way he helps
our unbelief – through the hearing of the Word. Faith comes by
hearing. But that doesn't mean faith comes only once. When we hear
the word of God – proclaimed, taught, even in our private family
devotions – the Spirit is active and faith is strengthened.
The Law cuts us down, and the Gospel
raises us up – like the Savior took the hand of the boy freed from
the demon – they thought he was dead. Jesus restores sinners,
blind, deaf, mute, even dead. And he can certainly restore you. He
will certainly help you. All things are possible for those that
believe – in him. And he who his faithful will do it.
Hebrews tells us Jesus is the author
and perfecter of our faith. Not only does he establish it, but he
also strengthens it, and he brings it to completion. What better
reason do we need to fix our eyes upon him and pray, “Lord I
believe, help my unbelief”.
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