When most think of the word “piety,” they imagine it to be a synonym for “humility” or “meekness.”
This is not the case, though, when it comes to Christian piety. Christian piety as we know it is marked not by an avoidance of attention, but instead by extreme attention: to inner character, to personal relationship with the Divine, to living a life as pure and free from what might be called “sinful acts” as possible.
I think that it’s sometimes hard to imagine that such piety could live within the Lutheran sphere. After-all, we are the coiners of the term “sinner and saint,” giving disciples the benefit of the doubt that they are, at one time, beautiful and broken, and that perfection is not only not the goal, but not achievable.
And yet, Philipp Jakob Spener, a Germen born in the middle of the 17th Century right off of Luther’s heels, blazed a pietistic trail through Lutheranism that continues to be well trodden.
And we curse him for it…and bless him for it.
We curse him because, well, pietism is so darn attractive. “Do this, not that” is practical. “Think this, not that” is helpful. “Practice this, not that” is achievable.
And yet, the more practical, and helpful, and achievable a thing is, the more it appears that we are moving toward salvation…indicating that we previously were without it.
And if that’s the case, then perhaps Jesus isn’t all that necessary, even if what we’re trying to do is live out Christ’s love, and what we’re trying to think is what Christ thought, and what we’re trying to practice is what Christ practiced…
And, then you might be able to see where I’m going with this. Pietism can lead you to believe you are Christ, even as all it’s language assures you that you are not.
In that way, it’s an idol just like anything else. Self-righteousness was something that Spener excelled at…and it got him into trouble. After-all, no one likes a self-righteous person in the room unless it’s them.
But we bless him for it, too, because in an age rocked by the Thirty Years War, upended by the Protestant Reformation, and still trying to organize itself in the midst of modernity, Philipp Jakob Spener noted that children should not be the victim of their parent’s stupidity, and therefore founded an orphanage, finishing school and hospital for children who otherwise would have spent their lives on the streets. And what led him to do such a costly and crazy thing was the belief that practice mattered. Inner character matters. And you cannot teach inner character when a belly is unfed, clothes are unkempt, and health is unattended to.
From under his influence missionaries went throughout Asia and the new world, with one settling in Pennsylvania to be a founding father of the Lutheran Church we have today in the United States. The zeal that drives a person to leave familiar family and familiar land and go to a far off place with a message of great importance can be traced back to pietism.
But pietism, when taken to extremes, leads to a faith that is unbalanced. When the individual and internal is held as paramount, the community suffers. The opposite, of course, is true as well.
But I think tonight we can lift Philipp Jakob Spener up as one of those who, even with unbalanced zeal, reminded the church of something sacred and real: inner character is important, can be taught, and can lead an individual to do great things for others.
As Spener himself wrote in his seminal work Pia Desideria
“Every Christian is bound to offer himself and what he has, his prayer, thanksgiving, good works, alms, etc. but also industriously to study the Word of the Lord, with the grace that is given him to teach others, especially those under his own roof, to chastise, exhort, convert, and edify them, to observe their life, pray for all, and insofar as possible be concerned about their salvation. If this is first pointed out to the people, they will take better care of themselves and apply themselves to whatever pertains to their own edification and that of their fellow men.”
And yet, when we point out only the failings of another person’s inner character, we often erode our own.
As the prophet Jeremiah points out in tonight’s reading, we have been given the power to pluck up and pull down, to destroy and to plant. And therefore we must be careful that our words, our ability to point out others failings, are done so with the recognition that we are also speaking to ourselves with such words.
That, I think, is what sets piety apart from humility.
And humility, that is truly
