Sermon: “A Living Sacrifice”

Text: Romans 12:1-15

3rd Sunday in Lent (B)

March 15, 2009

Scripture introduction.  Our second reading this morning is from the 12th chapter of Paul’s letter to the house churches in Rome.[1]  Each of these house churches may have been very different in socio-economic and cultural makeup.  Yet Paul addresses all of them together as he asks their financial and influential support for his planned, but never executed, mission trip to Spain.  As our text for this morning begins, Paul urges all the Roman Christians to respond to God’s mercies by, in his words, “present[ing] [their] bodies as a sacrifice—living, holy, and acceptable to God.”[2]

Paul’s original audience probably was shocked by the language of sacrifice.  I wonder if we don’t think of ancient people as somewhat naïve in religious matters.  Not only the ancient Israelites, but also the Greeks and the Romans and many other cultures, had the practice of sacrificing, by fire or otherwise, items of value to God or to the gods.  Like some of the Old Testament prophets,[3] we wonder aloud just how it is that the sacrifice of an animal can make us right with God.  Actually—and here’s the surprise for us moderns—ancient thinkers had already figured this out by the time of Paul.  In both the Jewish and the Greco-Roman tradition, it was commonly believed that what God really wanted was ethical behavior and caring for the needs of others—not animal sacrifice.

So when Paul tells the Romans—each of them—to place their own bodies on the altar, the image would have been arresting.  Of course Paul was referring to a living sacrifice, not a bloody one.  But just as clearly he was asking for total commitment.

Sermon.  When I was in college I took a management course that covered, among other things, different strategies for bargaining.  I still remember how my teacher illustrated what he called the strategy of “total commitment.”  He had been to the Harvard Business School, and he said he had been forced to use the total commitment strategy sometimes when crossing Harvard Square, one of the busiest intersections in metropolitan Boston.  Now those of you who have driven in Boston know that the drivers are very aggressive: “point and push” seems to be their motto.  So a pedestrian crossing Harvard Square will wait in vain for a driver to stop and allow the pedestrian across, even when there is a crosswalk.  The only way for the pedestrian to outsmart the drivers is to employ the total commitment bargaining strategy—looking away from the oncoming traffic and simply stepping out into the street.  The drivers know that they cannot bluff or scare the pedestrian, so there is nothing they can do to avoid a nasty accident but stop and allow the person to pass.  “The only problem with the total commitment strategy at Harvard Square,” said my professor with a wink, “is that the drivers use it, too!”

I think that’s what Paul was asking from the Roman Christians—total commitment.  Some scholars have interpreted the final chapters of Romans, including chapter twelve, as general ethical advice.  Indeed, that’s the way a number of Paul’s letters conclude.  Recently, however, I have been enjoying the insights of Robert Jewett, who never loses sight of the fact that Paul’s purpose in writing Romans was to enlist support for his mission to Spain.  He needed money.  He needed political influence and safe passage.  He needed interpreters.  He needed help from those who understood the culture of Spain, which was very different from anything Paul had ever encountered.  And the people who could help him the most were in Rome, the seat of the empire.  And Rome was on the way to Spain.  The problem was, the Roman house churches were uncomfortable with one another.  The rich and the poor did not mix, nor the slave and the free, nor Christians of Gentile and Jewish backgrounds.  Paul not only had to convince them of the worthiness of his mission; he also had to bring the Roman church into unity.

So, the argument goes, Paul was not just giving friendly advice to the Romans.  Rather, he was urging them toward behavior that he knew was necessary if they were to become a force for mission.  In the first part of his letter he explains how in Christ God shows mercy to us, not because of any merit we have, but only because of God’s love and grace and intent to bless us.  Now he begins to discuss what their response should be.  Of course, they understood that their best sacrifice to God was a thankful heart and behavior that would be pleasing to God.  But they could continue doing a good deed here or there, and his mission to Spain would never happen.  And the churches might never pull together for a common goal.  So Paul throws them an arresting image: “Put your very bodies on the altar as a sacrifice to God.  Don’t hold back.  You must be totally committed.”[4] 

Notice that Paul calls for a “living sacrifice.”  By this the Roman Christians knew that he did not expect a bloody sacrifice, some kind of misguided self-immolation.  They knew he was calling for a response to God’s mercies that involved every aspect of their lives.  A living sacrifice is not a passive sacrifice, but an active, working sacrifice.  Friends, as Presbyterians we inherit and carry on the Reformed tradition of Christian life and worship.  In that tradition we emphasize that our faith is not something we keep in a box or on the shelf and take out on Sunday morning.  Faith cannot be limited to some part of our lives.  We cannot divide our lives into “spiritual” and “practical.”  Reformed Christians have insisted—with Paul and with Jesus himself—that all of life—all of it—is spiritual.  Living, growing faith expands ever outward, touching every part of our lives—our thinking, our working, our playing, our resting, our family life—as we seek every day to become more like Christ[5].  In the great and mysterious exchange of salvation, he has taken our sins upon himself and by his Spirit has given us his capacity for goodness, touching with holiness every aspect of our lives.[6]  When we have been touched with this kind of love and grace, as the prophet Isaiah in his vision was touched by the cleansing coal from the altar, our guilt is departed and our sin is blotted out, and our rightful response is to say, “Here I am, Lord.  Send me.”[7]  All of me.  Total commitment.

As Paul understood, this is the kind of attitude, the sort of “transformed mind”[8] that fuels a hunger for mission and for world transformation.  But Paul also knew that we cannot operate simply as individuals—no matter how Christ-like we may be.  That is why we are called into the church, to support others and to be supported ourselves in this new way of looking at life, where everything is spiritual.  Not that we lose our individuality.  God has created each of us differently, and each of us has different experiences in life and of life.  We have different talents and skills, different insights.  Just as every part of a person must be a living sacrifice, so also in the church it takes every part—every person—to make a unified whole.  When every person’s gifts are present, Paul says, that makes all of us together a whole body, fully functional.  In chapter 12 of Romans, Paul does not take the next step; but he does in First Corinthians, where he writes, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”[9]  We are not just a body; we are Christ’s body.

And thus, the circle is completed.  By the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit, the characteristics of Jesus Christ—his sacrificial love and his innocence—are imparted to us as individuals.  Then we individuals, transformed by his love and totally committed, come together as a unified and fully functional communal body.  So constituted, we are the body of Christ.  We are the image of Christ in the world.

You may not think of yourselves this way when you come here on Sunday morning, but that is the reality.  Because each of us has different interests and has been called to service in different parts of the church, you may not even know the many ways this particular church is functioning as the body of Christ in the world.  That is the purpose of having a Ministry Emphasis Sunday as a part of our Capital Stewardship campaign.  Today our Ministry Emphasis Team would like to show you how your sacrifices of all that you have—time, talents, and treasure—have supported one another and have carried the image of Christ into our community and the world beyond.  As they come forward and begin to build, you will see a window—our window—coming into focus.  Through this window the light of Christ comes into our church, and through it that light is reflected back out into the world.  As each block is placed, you will see what it means for a Christian community to become a living sacrifice.  As I remind us of the ministries of this church—and it is only a partial list—our team will begin to build the window.

Re-read the Romans 12 text, with an emphasis this time on the “body of Christ.”  During the reading, the “workers” will rotate the “window” so that the reverse side, on which the head of Christ appears, may be seen.

You are the image of Christ, the body of Christ in this place.



[1] In this statement of the context and purpose of Romans, I rely upon Robert Jewett’s Romans: A Commentary, Hermeneia series (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress, 2007).

[2] See Jewett, supra, p. 724.

[3] See, e.g., Isaiah 1:10-17.

[4] Cf. Luke 9:62 (Jesus said . . ., “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”)

[5] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, John T. McNeill, ed., Ford Lewis Battles, trans. (Philadelphia, Pa.: Westminster,1960) 4.18.16.

[6] Communicatio idiomatum.  See Calvin, supra, 3.1.1 ff., 2.14.1 (note 4).

[7] Isaiah 6:1-6.

[8] Romans 12:2.

[9] 1 Corinthians 12:27 (New Revised Standard Version).