Last week, Dan launched us on our journey through Romans by clarifying a key theme of the entire book—us vs. them. Who’s in and who’s out? Who’s way of life is right and who’s isn’t? Who’s saved and who isn’t? Who decides? Who judges?

Imagine that a small group of Congolese bushmen moved to Washington DC and proclaimed that their way of life was the true life, their god the true god. Hunter-gatherers at the centre of imperial power! Bushmen telling the learned sophisticates what’s right and wrong. Backwoods hunters telling the richest empire on earth that if people want to be saved, they need to live like them.

Such was the tension between Jews and Gentiles in the Empire—and no where was this felt more strongly than in Rome. Jews from the farthest edge of the empire judging imperial ways and gods as wrong. Non-Jews were converting to the Jewish god, proclaiming that following this Jesus was the only way, the only truth, the only life. Conflict surrounded this group of Jesus-followers, and as Dan showed us last week, it also divided their fellowship. To follow this Jewish God Jesus, did we need to live as Jews or could we live as Gentiles? Us vs. them. Is it possible to live as “we”?

Imagine with me the tide in the ocean. When the tide changes through a small channel, the redirected currents of water clash. They generate rip tides of confused and troubled water. Such was life in Rome. Such is life in our western cultures today. One flow of current is moving us toward an experiment in permissiveness. The only way to get along together is not to judge one another. Freedom of belief and expression mean we must accept any and all behaviour.

However, in order to co-exist and avoid conflict, we tend to distance ourselves from those who are different. We are segregated, divided and confused. An ethic of permissiveness can diminish conflict but not nourish community. We remain separated by a deep sense of otherness, aliens living under the same roof. All we can do is remind one another that we shouldn’t judge others. “Oh, I can’t suggest to my friend that living with her boyfriend is wrong and might end up hurting both of them, because that would be judging them.” But as a result, we’re lonelier and more frightened than ever. One of the thriving businesses in our economic recession is the sale of guns.

There is a contrary current clashing against this call for permissiveness. We’ve made an entire industry out of judging others. Millions of us watch people undergo scathing judgment (the more embarrassingly blunt—if not cruel—the better) for how they dance, sing, lose (or don’t lose) weight, compete for jobs and even compete for dates. American Idol. Dancing for the Stars. Top Model. Apprentice—the list goes on.

To gain 15 minutes of fame we’re willing to subject our conflicts and failures to national scrutiny on Judge Judy or Oprah. Our radio and TV stations would be virtually silenced if commentators couldn’t judge and even ridicule politicians and stars. More seriously, we’ve devoted billions of dollars and staked our global peace waging war because of judgments we’ve made of other nations as evil. We’re a nation fixated on judging others.

So how do we resolve this? How do we live as “we” amidst the vast differences of conviction and conduct that swirl around us? I’ve seen riptides become so violent that they generate terrifying whirlpools. Sometimes we fear being sucked down. Our text for today in Romans suggests a third way. We know that neither the death-dealing currents of judgmentalism, nor the cold waters of passive indifference create community. The Gospel calls us out of those troubled torrents, into new water, the water of life, the stream of God’s mercy—life-transforming acceptance & judgment.

Reading: Romans 2:1-11

The entrance into God’s life-giving mercy is surprising. Romans 2 begins with a highly judgmental statement—“you have no excuse”. What an opening line—no excuse, no hiding place, no defense. There is no pedestal upon which we can stand to point fingers at others. No “us” against others’ “them”. No white hats or black hats. No clearly defined good guys vs. bad. No axis of evil except the one passing through our own hearts.

I’ve spent my life never wanting to be caught without an excuse. The 1990’s British TV series, “Keeping up Appearances” is an hilarious portrayal of our foolish efforts to look good. Hyacinth Bucket, which she asserts should be pronounced Bouquet, has perfected the awkward and embarrassing art of pretending to be something she isn’t.

Unspoken throughout the sit-com is a longing for a third option besides either to “let it all hang out” and abandon all dignity like Hyacinth’s brother-in-law Onslow, or share her foolish attempt to strut around like an aristocrat, attempting to keep her cool, look good, and pathetically hide her failures.

If you wanted to hear Karl Barth, the author of the longest set of theological treatises in the history of the church, and one of history’s most influential theologians preach, you would have had to go to his favourite, regular place to preach, the prison in Basel Switzerland. In one Good Friday sermon he reflected on the two criminals who were crucified alongside Jesus.

He makes the staggering assertion that these three people sharing the same fate, bound by the same nails, mocked and judged by the same shameful condemnation “was the first Christian fellowship, the first certain… indestructible Christian community. Christian community is manifest wherever there is a group of people close to Jesus who are with him in such a way that they are directly and unambiguously affected by his promise and assurance. These may hear that everything he is, he is for them, and everything he does, he does for them. To live by this promise is to be a Christian community.”

True, he says, there were other disciples, but they all fled. “The two criminals who at this hour were crucified with him had probably never heard of him before and were certainly no believing converts, no saints. Far from it! The opposite is true! But in this hour they could not abandon him, they could not sleep. Willingly or not, they were forced to watch with him many long hours on the cross. Nor could they escape his dangerous company….He and they, they and he were bound together.”

When Peter and the others finally rejoined this Christian community, “they could only ‘get in line behind’ the two criminals who were already first, and up there in front, with Jesus on Golgotha…

This is reconciliation: his damnation our liberation, his defeat our victory, his mortal pain the beginning of our joy, his death the birth of our life…No one before and no one afterwards has witnessed so directly and so closely God’s act of reconciliation, God’s glory and the redemption of the world, as these two thieves. Only one acknowledged who Jesus was…His companion, shared in the general, blind and hollow mockery…But Jesus died precisely for these two criminals…He did not die for the sake of a good world, he died for the sake of an evil world, not for the pious but the godless, not for the just but the unjust, for the deliverance, the victory and joy of all, that they might have life.” (Deliverance to the Captives, pp. 77-81).

I find it fascinating that to hear one of history’s finest theologians on grace preach, one would have had to go to prison. In Galatians 2 Paul proclaims, “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.”Christ in us, we and he are bound together. No more us/them—now in Christ God has acted to create the community of “we”.

We are without excuse when we judge others. “You have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others.” Paul echoes the command of Jesus, in Mt 7.1, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” Get in line behind the criminals if we want to join the fellowship of Jesus. The conflicting currents of authenticity and judgmentalism, flaunting our brokenness or hiding it, lead only to loneliness and distress.

In v. 9-12 Paul contrasts a life of anguish and distress, with a life of beauty and peace. Glory, honour and praise—or wrath, anguish and distress. Which do we desire? “God shows no partiality”. There’s no person preferred over others. God wants all to share in Christ’s glory, honour, immortality and peace.

Every human being knows what is right. Everyone longs for love and peace. In v. 13-15 Paul comments that even non-Jews instinctively know what God requires of us. No human being really believes that self-seeking and evil are right and good. The law of God is written on all human hearts and our conscience bears witness to what’s right, our conflicting thoughts either accuse or excuse us.

But what makes it possible to live right? In vs. 4 Paul warns us not to “despise the riches of God’s kindness, forbearance and patience which are meant to lead us to repentance.” God’s kindness, forbearance and patience imply that something’s wrong. Of course our lives are wrong. Of course there is judgment. In Mt 7, after commanding us not to judge, Jesus goes on to make very judgmental, very intolerant statements, warning us to beware of false prophets, and discern people by the fruit they bear, and that even those who call him “lord” might on the last day be sent away as evildoers.

Behind the proclamation of God’s patient love —is the acknowledgement of our failure to live in love. Behind the proclamation of God’s grace—is the acknowledgement of our disgrace. We are those who walk in line behind the other criminals. What do we encounter? What do we express to one another? Repentance and transforming grace! We encounter neither further condemnation nor the hypocritical effort to keep up appearances, but the place of our deliverance. We encounter the depth of God’s kindness, working and waiting for us to finally be willing to get in line behind the other criminals. “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner. Remember me when you come into your glory.”We are changed by God’s cross-bearing love not sin-condemning lectures. We are changed by Christ not by criticism.

Watching the beautiful patience of our daughter and son-in-law when their children are somewhat unhappy and unreasonable expresses the forbearing judgment of love. Patience is only needed if something is irritating. Forbearance is necessary because deep change takes a long time.

So what do we do with the fact that most people perceive the church to be a place of judgment? “Why would you go to church because that’s the place where people are so judgmental.” I typed into Google, “Why are Christians so judgmental” and in 3 seconds had 200,000 articles. A recent Pew Public Opinion Survey indicated that 58% of white evangelical Christians support the use of torture in our war on terror. Few think of churches as beacons of kindness, centres of carrying, bastions of beauty and goodness. What’s wrong?

Unfortunately, the church tends to futilely struggle in the tidal currents of our culture rather than live in the freedom of God’s third way. We are often extreme versions of hyper-judgmentalism or of hyper-permissiveness. God calls us to get out of these waters and into the current of God’s mercy which flows through Golgatha and an empty tomb on the way to the glory of God’s Kingdom.

We are the place where people come desperate for acceptance—and for more than acceptance. We long to be changed, made new by God’s kindness, forbearance and patience which lead us to repentance. It is only the kindness of God in Christ that frees us to come out of hiding and abandon our effort to bury our brokenness and shame.

One day, Paul reminds us in v. 16, there will be no more hiding places. “God will judge the secret thoughts of all.” One day, everything hidden will be brought to the light. So why not stop hiding now and enjoy the freedom of God’s transforming kindness? Rather than attempting to rename sin as something good or unavoidable, or bury it in our own secret places, our sins are now buried with Christ in his tomb. Are we going to stay with them in Christ’s tomb, or also share in his resurrection? Will we stay in our sin-soiled clothes, or get dressed in the new life of Christ? (e.g. Bethany, Tierra Nueva, tangible expression of God’s love, healing in prison.)

We are changed by love to live as delivered captives, glory-sharing guides, freely living in the light, no longer hiding, but no longer the same. We don’t judge who’s in and who’s out. Or even, who’s saved and who isn’t. All we know is that we’ve gotten in line behind other criminals and have encountered the life-changing kindness of God.

Friday night we went to our favourite concert of the year, “More at the Moore” Theatre. It’s an eclectic collection of high school and college musicians, each of whom performs their own personal style: Beethoven and Blues, Indie rock and Irish fiddle, country and classical. Throughout the concert they mix genres, combining the plaintive blues of Eritrean-American teenagers with home-schooled, blond-haired suburban Celtic fiddle players. Each can’t do their own thing, playing whatever they want. They all have gotten in line behind a master conductor, who weaves the tapestry of their individual genres into a richer, greater, more beautiful melody.

Our daughter Andrea recently returned from Rwanda. There she met a World Vision staff person with a stunning story. During the genocide a neighbour whom her family knew well, came with a mob to her mother’s house to kill her. Her mother said to this young man, “Before you do, will you give me 5 minutes to pray for you?” He agreed, and she prayed that God would forgive him for this horrible thing he was about to do, and help her children to forgive him to. When she finished he asked, “Are you done now?” She said, “Yes, but if you ever run into my children, will you tell them that I forgave you and want them to forgive you too.” After that, he killed her.

For years, her daughter, the staff member Andrea met, lived with fierce hatred for this murderer. Imprisoned by her hate, she was eventually confronted by the Spirit convicting her that this was not the way of Christ. She hunted for her mother’s killer and finally found him in prison. Going to visit him, she begged him to forgive her. “Forgive you” he exclaimed, “I am the one who must beg your forgiveness for the horrible thing I did.” “No” she said. “You killed my mother once. I have killed you dozens of times over and over again through my hatred.” Reconciled behind bars, they both were set free from their prisons of hate and guilt.

To get in line behind the other criminals we must come out of our self-centred shameless disobedience to God’s way, and our hiding of our sin and shame behind the appearance of self-created goodness. Kindly, patiently, persistently the Spirit of God calls us to a community where our brokenness is healed, our differences become gifts, and our lives are harmonized into a beautiful symphony of love.

The stakes are high. Paul warns in vs. 24, “The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you.” Rather than that, may the God of love be believed in because of us. The tidal currents surrounding us may seem confusing and threatening right now, but the waters of God’s mercy are flowing. The stream of life that flows from the throne of God, through Golgotha and the empty tomb back to Glory is filling the earth. The true tide of history is changing. The earth will be filled with the glory of God as the waters cover the sea.

Let’s join in, let’s get in line. Now.