Last week, in our series on Romans we looked at part of Chapter 9. In Paul’s letter to the young church in 1 st century Rome, he was working through the fact that so many of his Jewish brothers and sisters had rejected what God had done in Jesus Christ, in fact, many more people from outside the faith had responded. But Paul was very firm that God’s purposes would be fulfilled regardless, that He would have a people for himself, and they would impact the world.

At the end of our time we talked about the intense passion Paul had for sharing Jesus with his brothers and sisters. And to fan the flame of OUR passions, I gave those of you who were here a very small challenge- to have one conversation over the course of the week with a non-Christian…where you bring up Jesus. Not spirituality, or faith or religion or church, but Jesus. And then I asked you to email me as you did that, since I get emails about everything else on earth…why not this?!

Well, my Inbox was pretty full this week. Here are the hard copies of several dozen emails. And some amazing stories. As I read them, I felt like I was hearing two different sounds spreading out across the city of Seattle. One of them sounded like this: “GRRRR.” The sound of people being grumpy. A number of people started out their note by saying that they had been a little grumpy over my challenge- realizing they weren’t around people who weren’t Christians (a whole ‘nother topic), feeling like they didn’t have the gift of evangelism but were being asked to do this (a whole ‘nother topic), or several simply saying that they didn’t like being told what to do (a whole ‘nother topic).

But the sound of grumpiness was radically overwhelmed by another sound, a creaking sound I imagined that was like the sound of a doors being opened. I received emails about conversations in every setting, every circumstance, with every person imaginable.

• A visiting mom in the kitchen.
• A doctor in the middle of a check-up.
• People who used to be Christians, but have strayed away.
• A parent with kids while driving in the car.
• A large, large number of conversations with colleagues in the workplace.
• A clerk in a retail store.
• A friend at the gym.
• A long-time friend over dinner.
• A family member previously antagonistic about Jesus.
• A boss.
• A co-worker on a walk.
• A customer.
• A friend on a walk.
• A stranger at the beach.
• Someone in a difficult situation.
• One I really loved- was a conversation held with a barber while getting a haircut! (that person ended up with a Mohawk!-just kidding).

They weren’t all “ends happily ever after” either. A couple invited the scorn of companions. But there were some common threads as well. In most cases, the conversations weren’t terribly premeditated- in fact, they often came up a little unexpectedly but simply while people were paying attention. In most cases, these were not three hour conversations (though a couple were) or dramatic conversions, but an open door to talk more in the future about things that matter.

And, most interesting, specifically introducing Jesus into the conversation seemed to help it be a much more personal and relational conversation. One person also cheated and said “My pastor told us to have this conversation…!” But the funny thing was, even that started a good conversation.

So all over Seattle this week, one of the least-churched cities in the country, they constantly tell us, and dozens of doors opening for conversations about Jesus. And, we don’t have to limit it to one week. We’re just trying to be people who pay attention.

Well, this morning we want to stick our toes into the waters of Romans chapter 10. Paul continues to wrestle with the fact that many of the religious Israelites do not believe what God was doing in Jesus. They can’t hear the good news.

Will you stand with me for the reading of God’s word? In this morning’s passage, Paul quotes the Old Testament repeatedly, and I’ll highlight those as we go.

Reading: Romans 10: 5-16a

Can a person be too religious? Is there a danger to being too religious?

Well, there is a mental illness which I have seen in several people who are severely obsessive-compulsive, and the fixation of their obsessiveness seems to center on religious things- the bible, the church, Jesus. So maybe you think that’s being too religious.

Or maybe you think someone is too religious if they passionately seek God in ways that don’t make sense to the rest of the world- although actually, I think that is just called being a Christian.

Or maybe you think someone is too religious if they are so immersed in prayer or spiritual disciplines, they seem out of touch with reality- “too heavenly-minded to be any earthly good.” Maybe.

In Chapter 10 the Apostle Paul seems to think there is a different way of being too religious, and that is when the practice of religion- no matter how good it looks in terms of prayer, spiritual disciplines, worship, ritual- gets in the way of encountering God. Or put a different way, religion can be dangerous when it keeps us from receiving from God.

And that’s Paul’s concern about the Israelites. You know, this whole book we’ve grappled with the fact that the New Testament world was split into two groups: the Israelites- God’s chosen people, the religious people, the Jews. And the Gentiles- which might today be thought of as unbelievers, pagans, atheists, whatever.

And in many ways, since you are sitting in church this morning, you can align yourself with the Israelites. We need to see ourselves this morning as the religious people. It’s to US that Paul says “there is a danger in being too religious.” The danger is that religion can keep us from receiving from God.

The issue is an inability to receive grace. To let God be God. For these highly religious people, they seemed to constantly feel the need to show themselves, to prove their identity as God’s chosen people. “Seeking a righteousness that comes from law,” is what Paul calls it.

Actually, it’s not just Paul. Do you remember Jesus talking to the chief priests and elders, or as Dale Bruner always calls them, The Religious, capital R? “Truly I tell you”, Jesus said, “ the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him…”

This is not just a first century phenomenon. For most of us Religious people, if we’re honest, we don’t know how to accept the grace of God. We feel the need to partner with God, to pull our own weight, show our strength, to do our share. After all, doesn’t the Bible say “God helps those who help themselves?” Well, no it doesn’t. Ben Franklin’s Almanac does, but the Bible doesn’t. But doesn’t the Bible say “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling?” Well, yes it does…but if you read the rest of the sentence, it says “for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.”

Paul’s point is that God’s way begins with receiving, not partnering. It’s all God. It’s all grace. I was with a friend this week who was sharing that their family has been sort of adopted by another family, blessed in ways that they can never pay back. And he stopped and said “I guess that’s grace, isn’t it? It’s just so funny to be receivers of something you can’t either earn or return.” Exactly. It’s all grace. Doesn’t matter how religious you are, how closely related to Abraham they were, whether we’ve grown up in church - it’s a matter of receiving what has already been done.

And so verses 6 & 7 say “don’t say in your heart, who will ascend into heaven-“ that is, doing spectacular things that will bring Christ down to us- that’s already been done! Jesus Christ came to this earth, for our sake, it’s already happened. God did it. Without us. We receive it.

And“don’t say who will descend into the abyss”- that is- doing spectacular things that somehow bring Christ up from the dead. It’s already been done. Jesus Christ was raised from the dead. God did it. Without us. We receive it.

These two sentences are actually a beautifully succinct statement of the gospel, aren’t they? God came down to earth in Christ- incarnation, joined in life, experienced death. God raised Christ from the dead- resurrection. And we didn’t bring any of it about, all we can do is receive it- that’s called grace.

We don’t do it- “the word of God is near you, on your lips, in your heart.” That doesn’t refer to the quality of our preaching or sharing, but to the transformative content of the Word of God- in Christ. It’s grace! It’s been done! Just accept it!

Frederick Buechner, in one of his beautifully written autobiographical books The Sacred Journey, was writing about the months after his father committed suicide when he was a boy. Some family members were urging his family to put their lives back together by demonstrating strength and human resolve. Buechner wrote:

“But when it comes to putting broken lives back together- when it comes, in religious terms, to the saving of souls- the human best tends to be at odds with the holy best. To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do- to grit your teeth and clench your fists in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst- is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still.”

There it is hanging out, something done for you and in you- the word of God, in Jesus. You don’t bring it about, you receive it.

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but many of you saw the movie from 10 years ago, Saving Private Ryan. It’s a brutal, but quite accurate description of the fighting in World War II, and the invasion of Normandy. The story is of the War Department’s attempt to bring one young man, Pvt. Ryan, back from the midst of heavy fighting because his family has already lost three sons. A number of other soldiers have to put themselves at great risk - and indeed, give up their lives- to find and protect this one young man, making heroic sacrifices.

As the movie comes to a climax, the dying Tom Hanks saves Private Ryan, it’s noble, it’s beautiful, an act of grace and then- they absolutely ruin it. The last words Tom Hanks says to Private Ryan as he dies is: “Earn this.” Ryan then has to spend the rest of his life trying to do that- and asking his wife in old age if he has proved himself worthy of the others’ sacrifice.

When I saw the movie ten yeas ago I moaned, “no, no.” Not “earn this.” And when I watched it again last night, I said “No, not earn this!” You don’t earn a gift. You receive it.

Only then can we respond. Of course there is a place for action, for obedience, for disciplines, for ministry, for persistence, absolutely - but it is as a response to what God has done and is doing. It’s all God, first. It is no accident that Paul spends eleven chapters parsing out the grace of God before he begins to talk about more practical ethics in chapter twelve. Eleven chapters! It’s like Paul says if you don’t get this, if you can’t receive from God then everything else is meaningless. Our response, on the other hand, seems a little paltry:

v9 “If you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved.”

I read this and thought, That’s it? We believe? We confess? But again, Paul packs an amazing amount into a sentence. Here is the response God’s people make to grace. We believe. We confess.

“Believing” that God raised Jesus from the dead is more than saying okay to a doctrine or dogma. And it’s more than a feeling. “Believing” means trusting. I will trust God. I will lean into God. I will take the testimony of the scripture, of other people, as I experience the presence of God’s Holy Spirit in my life…and I will trust. I will make decisions, I will choose to trust.

Years ago, when Anne and I worked a lot with Young Life, I took a group of high schoolers up into the Canadian Rockies through a program they have called Beyond Malibu. We were up in this stunning wilderness on our own for a week with a couple of guides. One day we were to descend the entire day down a very steep rock face…huge slabs of granite, one after the other the entire day. We all had heavy packs. And when we first headed down, a number of us did what is pretty instinctual to do- we leaned our weight back, because we didn’t want to pitch forward on our faces and slide down the steep slope.

But as we leaned back, our feet would go out from under us, and we would fall backwards. Finally, one of the guides walked over and said- “You know, the only way this is going to work is if you trust your boots.” We said “What are you talking about?” He said “Your boots were made to grip rock like this, but you are going to have to trust them. You have to lean your weight forward, out over your boots as you go down…and trust that they will hold. It will feel all wrong at first.”

That was a hard thing to do. But he was right, it was the only thing to do. We leaned out over our boots. And our boots did hold, and we could walk down those huge slabs, feeling a little bit like Spiderman scaling the sheer wall of a building.

Paul says “trust in your heart.” God’s word will hold. Lean your weight onto him. And- confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord. Some of us have heard this so many times in music or scripture or sermons, it doesn’t mean much. For Paul, this was a response of great faith. Because in the Mediterranean of his day, it was the Roman Emperor Caesar who was Lord.

I don’t mean that figuratively, because of the huge power of Rome. I mean the practice of the day was to literally verbalize the phrase “Caesar is Lord.” It was sometimes even used to decide who would be thrown to the lions or not in the Coliseum. So when Paul says “Jesus is Lord,” it means Caesar is not. Paul is fully aware of that. It is clear…and risky…and dangerous…at the very least uncomfortable.

When some of you brought up the name of Jesus this last week in conversation you experienced some discomfort. One person told me “I’m uneasy.” Yes. It’s more uncomfortable than talking about faith, or spirituality, or the church. Or religion. Jesus is personal. Jesus is Lord. There’s great power in this name of Jesus.

We had a group of people at our house a few months ago to talk about parenting. It was a great group, parents concerned about raising their kids well, and we talked for probably 45 minutes. And then someone actually brought up Jesus.

And I have to tell you, it changed the tone of the whole conversation. It brought up more personal sharing, and riskier questions. There’s power in the very name of Jesus, the name at which “every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

We confess Christ by what we say. By how we live. By what we do. Not as a way of “doing our part,” not out of earning, not out of fear of not somehow measuring up, but as a response to the grace God has poured out on us, that we have received.

Can a person be too religious? Yes. It’s what Paul found desperately dangerous for the Israelites, and it kept most of them from receiving the good news.

Can we be too religious? Sure. Every time that our practice of faith puts the cart before the horse. Every time that we do things to join with God in our own salvation. Every time we have to pull our own weight and do our share, every time we cannot receive grace, with no strings attached.

The real danger of being too religious is that we miss God. The real danger of being too religious is not that we invest too much in our faith- we’re called to give all- it’s that we miss receiving from God. The word of God is near us- on our lips. In our heart. We want to pay attention.