If You Have Anything to Say to Me...

    Our Gospel lesson this week is actually quite a bit longer than the designated text for the day.  The designated text put together by those who do the Revised Common Lectionary is actually Matthew 16: 15-20.  Next week, we are supposed to get Matthew 16:20-35; however, as I looked over these lessons, I couldn’t help but realize, these texts really should not be separated.  They demand to be put together because it is in holding them together that we truly get the Gospel revealed to us and lead us toward reconciliation and forgiveness.

    The text begins with instructions on how to handle reconciliation.  If someone in the church sins against you, you are to confront that person one on one.  If the other does not listen, you are to take two or three witnesses.  If the person does not listen, you are to bring them before the entire assembly, and if the person does not listen to the entire assembly, they are to be treated as a Gentile or tax collector.  This is very straight forward and simple, is it not?  I mean there isn’t much wiggle room in how we are supposed to handle a situation like this is there?  No.  There isn’t.  Except...

    Except no one follows this teaching.  No one.  Even those of us who are pastors and proclaim God’s Word Sunday after Sunday don’t follow this teaching of Jesus.  I mean, let’s be honest with one another when it comes to talking about reality.  Whenever we get upset with something someone has done to us or if they have done something in the church we don’t like, we don’t go directly to that person.  We either stew about it and stop attending church because “I don’t want to see that person anymore because he or she hurt me”; or we start talking about what that person did with anyone else who will listen.  “Did you see what color they painted the fellowship hall?  Oh the horrors!!  Why couldn’t they have just painted it white?”  If I can get someone, anyone to agree with me, well, then I feel justified in my position.  And, believe me, this is not something exclusive to congregation members.  We clergy jump on this bandwagon all the time.  We talk about our church leaders.  We talk about other Christians–other pastors.  Rarely, if ever do we go directly to someone and confront them with something they said or did–despite our knowing better.  I mean, even those who don’t follow Jesus have their own way of putting this.  You might have even said it yourself.  “If you want to say something to me...say it to my face.”  We know what we are supposed to do, but we just don’t do it.

    Why?  Well, of course, it’s easier not too.  I don’t have to face them directly.  But there are also the consequences that must be faced.  For whenever we confront someone with wrongdoing or confront another with hurting us, we are usually met with a harsh response. “How dare you confront me?  Do you think you are such a goody two shoes that you can tell me what I’ve done wrong?”  That’s just one of the responses.  I mean, oftentimes when we confront another, we come across as extremely self-righteous and arrogant.  This does not lead to reconciliation.  Furthermore, there are more than a few who have adopted the self-esteem gospel–that if we just let everyone know they are loved and perfect just the way they are they will work hard; do good things; and be productive.  Except that doesn’t work.  It actually leads to a sense of entitlement and narcissism.  And if you confront such a person with hurting you, it will fall on deaf ears because they don’t believe they are capable of doing wrong.  And even if you were to follow the teaching Jesus offers them, they would simply say, “I’ll just go find another church where I won’t have anyone mess with me.” 

    Do you see the difficulties involved with following Jesus teaching here?  Do you see why many people refuse to operate in such a fashion?  It’s too difficult to face another person, and the consequences are generally poor.  It’s a teaching which is almost too difficult to bear.

    Perhaps this is why Peter comes up to Jesus and says, “Lord, how many times do I really have to forgive someone?  As many as seven times?”

    Some of you might think seven times is too small a number, but let me ask you this: would you let someone steal from you up to seven times?  Would you let someone slap you in the face seven times?  Would you willingly let someone take advantage of you seven times in a row without some sort of recourse?  No.  No one here this morning would think of such a thing–generally.  Seven times is a pretty generous number, but Jesus says, “No.  You are thinking too small.  As many as seventy-seven times.”

    And here we get to the important crux of the matter.  Here we get to why Jesus teaches what He teaches regarding reconciliation and forgiveness.  Here we get to why Jesus begins this segment with what to do if a member of the church sins against you.  Here we get a parable of God’s mercy and justice–a parable that leads us to the cross.

    Jesus tells us of a servant who has wracked up an incredible debt.  10,000 talents is the figure given.  Let’s translate this into dollar signs.  Let’s say an average laborer earns $30,000 per year.  A talent would have been 15 times that, so $450,000.  Take $450,000 and multiply that by 10,000.  That’s a lot of zeroes my friends.  By my calculations it would be $4,500,000,000.  This servant owed the modern day equivalent of 4.5 billion dollars!!! 

    Now, I want you to ask yourself: who in the world wracks up that kind of debt?  Who in the work borrows that much money–I mean aside from certain governments...  How in the world do you wrack up that much debt?  Any clue?  The best I can come up with is someone who is so totally irresponsible and so consumed with money that they get as much as they possibly can regardless of any sort of consequence or conscience.  This is the kind of guy Jesus talks about.

    Second question: what kind of lord loans that kind of money to this kind of servant?  I mean really.  Which one of you would have loaned that kind of figure to someone?  The lord must be extremely wealthy and not care what happens to that kind of money, that’s for sure.  Either that, or this lord must be somewhat crazy.  No one would even think of doing such a thing.  But apparently, this one did–at least in the parable.

    The lord comes one day to settle accounts, and he is furious at what is owed him.  He threatens to sell the man and his family as slaves to pay off the debt–this was considered quite acceptable in the world during that time.  The servant doesn’t want this to happen–not in the least, so he begs and pleads with his lord.  “Do not sell me.  I will repay you!”

    Interestingly enough, there are a couple of things to note here.  Unless one is very wealthy, this kind of debt cannot be paid off in one’s lifetime.  The guy is making a promise which cannot be fulfilled.  Secondly, it’s an obvious comment to save his own skin–a skin which was in trouble because of his irresponsible behavior in the first place.

    But the interesting stuff doesn’t stop there.  The lord, moved by pity forgives the debt!!!  He doesn’t work out a payment plan.  He doesn’t reduce the debt and work things out; he says you are off the hook.  You are free.  You are clear.  Go!

    Now, what would you and I do at this point?  What would you and I do if we were suddenly told that a huge amount of debt has been forgiven us?  Would we go out and do the same thing again?  Or would we be filled with joy at the fortune which had befallen us?  Would we be consumed with anger and greed, or would we have hearts full of gratitude?

    You would expect the latter, but this servant just doesn’t seem to get it.  He comes across a guy who owes him a pittance compared to the debt just forgiven him.  The actions of the lord had absolutely no effect on this guy.  He is still completely self-centered and selfish.  He is still as self-absorbed as before, and there are drastic consequences.  The lord will not let such actions stand.  Let’s try to understand why.

    A few months ago, I listened to a Timothy Keller lecture on Youtube, and he shared the following illustration by Dr. Martin Lloyd Jones.  Dr. Jones said that in order to understand the Gospel, one of the things I needed to understand was the size of the debt forgiven me.  In a sermon, Dr. Jones said, “Let’s say I come home one day from vacation and my neighbor, who was checking my mail told me, ‘While you were gone, a bill came, and I paid it for you.’  In order to know how to properly respond, I need to know how large that bill was.  If it was postage due, then I can say, ‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’  But if it was that bill from the IRS which says I owed thousands of dollars that I didn’t have, well, that’s another story.  But until I know the size of the debt you paid, I don’t know whether to say thank you or to fall down on my knees and kiss your feet.”

    Think about that for a minute as you consider what Jesus did on the cross.  For it was on the cross that Jesus incurred and paid the debt you had accumulated with your sinfulness.  It was on the cross that Jesus died as a payment to remove that which kept you from being on good terms with God.  It was on the cross that Jesus endured the wrath of God so that you don’t have to.  “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but so that the world may be saved through Him.”  On the cross, Jesus reconciled the world unto God.  Jesus reconciled you unto God when there was this huge outstanding debt that you had accumulated through your sinfulness. 

    And if you realize, first off that you were sinful and had accumulated debt.  Then, if you realize the size of the debt that Jesus paid for you.  Then, if you understand that He did this to wipe out anything that stood between you and God, you will get to that point where you say, “Man, I want all my relationships to be this way.  I don’t want anything to be in the way of how I live with others.  I want to be reconciled with them just like I am reconciled with God.”

    And so, if someone has sinned against me, I don’t wait for them to come to their senses; I don’t sit on the pain and just let it fester; there is something wrong, and if God took the initiative to fix it, then I want to take the initiative to fix it with whoever has wronged me.  And I will go to the one who hurt me, not in a spirit of self-righteousness because I needed forgiveness too, but in a spirit of humility–in a spirit of reconciliation.  I will go to that other saying, “I am not here to point out your wrong because I am so right; I am here because there is something between us that is keeping us from living out our relationship to the fullest.  I don’t want that thing to be there.  I want to be reconciled with you but I cannot because there is this hurt you caused me.”

    And if the other party does not agree, then, because you want this reconciliation so badly, you will involve others–ultimately the entire church because reconciliation is that important.  And if in the face of the church the other party does not repent–treat them as a Gentile or tax collector.  Which we need to ask–how did Jesus treat Gentiles and tax collectors?  He ate with them.  He healed them.  He associated with them and worked with them for the express purpose of proclaiming to them the Gospel.  He wanted them to know the marvelous power of God so that their lives would be changed–just like our lives are changed by what God has done for us through Jesus Christ.  Such forgiveness–such reconciliation from the heart is a difficult thing until you realize what Jesus has already done for you.  He’s forgiven your debt, and now He asks you to do the same.  Amen.

A "Waste" of $30,000+

Someone might say such a thing.  Someone might actually believe it.  I don't.

This past week, I was privileged to have a conversation with the president of the Lutheran Church of the Central African Republic (LCCAR).

One of the initial posts on this blog concerned a fundraising effort spearheaded by my congregation to raise money to purchase motorcycles for the LCCAR.  Many people participated.  Many congregations added their support.  We raised over $30,000.  That was enough to purchase 12 motorcycles.  We were overjoyed with how we were able to help.

I told President Golike that our congregation helped him get the motorcycles for his church.

He replied, "The rebels stole all our motorcycles."

For those who do not know the political situation in the Central African Republic, well...it sucks.  It's bad.  There's been a lot of fighting.  Lots of people have been killed.  Many of the leaders and intellectuals in the country have found themselves as targets.  President Golike has been shot at numerous times.  He escaped certain death when rebels tried to burn down his house but couldn't find gasoline.  We raised many, many prayers for peace for this nation.

But all the motorcycles are gone.  Now perhaps being used for nefarious purposes. 

Some might say it was a waste of $30,000.

I don't.

During the four years the LCCAR had these motorcycles, they were the ambulances for many sections of the country.  They carried people to hospitals.  They saved many, many lives.  Their use accomplished much good.

And now, they are gone. 

I am convinced that this is one of the reasons Jesus doesn't want us to get hung up on possessions.  One day, all is well and good, but the next, they could be gone.  If your life revolves around possessions, and suddenly they are taken away from you, you are devastated, broken, destroyed. 

But if Jesus is at the center of your life, possessions are simply things to be used for a time.  They are not the be all and end all of existence.  They are meaningless in the grand scheme of things.  They are tools to be used until they fulfill their purpose. 

If something breaks...who cares?
If something is stolen...who cares?
If something is destroyed...who cares?

Things do not bring life.
Things do not bring happiness.
Things do not add value to our lives.

They just don't.

Christ accomplishes all of the above as He transforms your heart and lives at the center of your being.

That means more than anything--anything at all.

It's why President Golike and I didn't mourn the loss of the motorcycles, and it is why he was filled with hope that one day peace and reconciliation will return to the CAR.

And I loved what a congregation member told me this morning as he left church, "Let's not let it stop."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's not let it stop.  If those motorcycles brought healing, let's make sure they get them again."

Sounds like a good use for another $30,000. 

Or more.

The Language of Love

Two things struck me yesterday.  Two very, very important things.

The first happened sitting in the barber shop.  I had just finished visiting one of my shut-in members and decided to get my hair chopped before the events of Christmas.  A very, very interesting conversation happened in the barber shop.

During the visit, I commented on a particular issue and let slip the word "d@mn."  I then said, "I shouldn't have said that."

The lady barber said, "Aww, this is a barber shop. That's allowed."

I said, "It has nothing to do with the location.  It has everything to do with my profession."

Of course, I was then asked what I did, and I responded that I was a clergy.

"You're our kind of clergy," came the reply.

Maybe, but as the conversation evolved, maybe not.

For as we visited a very interesting dynamic started concerning justice. 

"I believe that if a person commits a murder or rape or something like that, they are going straight to hell," the barber said.  "I don't buy any of these priests or pastors who visit with someone on death row and proclaim them forgiven.  I was taught that if you do good things and are a good person, you are going to heaven.  If you do anything to the contrary, then you are going to hell."

I responded, "I think there is a difference between God's forgiveness and the necessity for justice."

"I don't think so," was the reply.

"And so, is Moses in hell?  Because he committed murder."

Silence for a moment.  Then a half-hearted joke, "Maybe he should be."

"Don't mess with a pastor who knows the Bible.  God operates differently than we do.  God offers forgiveness."

It's called grace.

The second piece of note was an article in this month's The Lutheran Magazine titled, "Is the word returning empty?  Biblical fluency puts life into the word for daily use."

 The article itself is quite intriguing, and the arguments are quite cogent.  However, I would argue that we clergy desperately try to help people with biblical fluency.  We just haven't been doing a very good job of it.  In fact, I would argue the reason we primarily haven't been doing a very good job of it is because we have become consumed with dictating the law.

Now, this is starting to get into some heavier theological concepts, but let me try to keep it relatively simple by saying--instead of focusing on the proclamation of what God has done for us by reconciling the world and us unto himself, we do much more talking about what we should be doing. 

It matters not which side of the Christian spectrum one falls upon.  The "right" side tends to focus on individual morality.  The "left" side tends to focus on community responsibility.  The "right" focuses on individual righteousness.  The "left" focuses on communal justice.  Both emphasize the law.

Sure, each side will say that such emphasis is a response to God's grace; however, I have come to realize that much of the preaching and articles I read from both standpoints give very, very little time to what God has done and why we respond as we do.

In short, we minimize grace--God's action, and emphasize the Law--our action or even inaction.

From a Lutheran perspective--an even I would say an orthodox Christian perspective, this is backwards. 

We are pretty fluent in applications of the law and how it relates to our lives, but we aren't so good about being fluent in Grace.

It's awful hard to be fluent in the language of God's love.  It's awful hard to be fluent in the language of forgiveness--even for that S.O.B. who murdered a little child.  It's awful hard to be fluent in the language of reconciliation--especially if that so and so did something I don't like or voted for the "other guy."

The language of grace; the language of love takes us to a different reality.  It takes us to a different place.  It leads us to a place of humility and compassion and service--simply because we realize how much we need Christ and His action on the cross.

For that is the ultimate language of love: a willingness to die for your enemies.  That's grace.  And most of us aren't too fluent in it at all.

Perhaps, God will give us the desire to learn.

There are Moments

I hate running.

I have said so in this blog before.

And yet, I continue to run at least four times a week.  Mind you, I am neither sprinting nor doing any sort of distance running.  I do interval training, and if I could drop it and still see results in toning and shaping my body, I would.  But unless I do something which burns fat, my goal of becoming healthier and avoiding knee surgery in the future will not become achievable.

So I run, and I hate it.

Most of the time.

But there are moments, brief moments when something intriguing happens. 

My body does not feel like it is exerting anything.  My feet seem to glide over the pavement.  My breathing seems effortless.  It's a really nice feeling.  But then I come crashing back to reality.  It doesn't last for any length of time.  But it's there.  It's happened more than once.  It's real.

I've had such moments in my faith life as well.

When I reflect upon the words of Jesus--His ethical and moral commands, sometimes I cannot help but wonder if giving it all up would be easier:

If anyone begs from you...give.
If you are angry with someone, you've committed murder.
If you've looked at another with lust in your heart, you've committed adultery.
Take the log out of your own eye before you judge another.
It's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God.
Love the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Feed the hungry.
Give drink to the thirsty.
Clothe the naked.
Visit the sick and imprisoned.

Heck, that's just the basics.  There's more.  A lot more, and it simply isn't easy to follow.  It's difficult.  Far easier to fail than to succeed.  So, why even try?  Why even continue to strive for perfection when perfection is unachievable?

There are moments.  Holy moments.  Moments when I know God is real.  Moments when I know His presence and hear His voice.  Yes, they have happened in my life.  Some may call me crazy; irrational, I know.  But I am not alone in sensing God and hearing His voice.  There are others, and their sense is very much the same as mine.

When those times of questioning occur...
When those times of doubt occur...

I remember the One who suffered and died, for He is the one who has spoken to me and given me His presence at critical moments in my life.   He sets the bar high for me (and all who follow Him) knowing we cannot fully reach it; however, if He set it any lower, we might actually achieve it and become self-righteous.

And as we reach for that goal, responding to what He has done first to us, our spiritual muscles are honed and shaped.  He is ever working and molding us from within--a lifetime process of making us more and more like Him.

It's tough.  Sometimes, it hurts and brutally.  It would be easier to quit.

But, there are moments...

Christ Didn't Die for Nothing

Years ago, after I had attended a year or so of college, I returned home for vacation.  I went to my home congregation, and the pastor was on vacation.  I remember walking into the pastor’s confirmation class and talking to the students there.  I remember very vividly talking to one of the kids.  He was pretty bright in the sense that he didn’t just accept any answer to certain questions.  He was what one might call a critical thinker.

    I don’t know if it was because I didn’t seem imposing or whether or not I wasn’t a hyper-critical threat, but this young man opened up with both barrels.  The question he asked was explosive.  It went something like this, “I don’t mean to be offensive or anything, but why did Jesus have to die like He did?  I mean, I understand God saving the world and everything, but why did He have to pick such a lame way to do it?”

    Tough, tough question to answer for a 13 year old.  Tough, tough question for a 20 year old college student to answer.  Tough, tough question for a pastor to answer in an understandable manner for that confirmation student and for a congregation in the midst of a 15 minute sermon.  The answers are there, of course, but how does one convey such thoughts in a clear, concise manner that can be understood?  I say this since volumes of thought have been put down in books and papers throughout the centuries since Christ suffered and died on that cross to reconcile the world unto God.  Why was Jesus’ death necessary?  Why did He have to die in the manner He did?  And how do we respond to it?

    St. Paul has condensed this down into a short paragraph in the book of Galatians as he deals with a congregation that is trying to impose the Jewish law on anyone and everyone who seeks to become a Christian.  This congregation believed that if one became a follower of Jesus Christ, then that person had to adhere strictly to all of the Law lest they would be eternally damned–this included circumcision.  As you can imagine, gentlemen, this was not a selling point for many men who were seeking to become Christian.  I don’t know about you, but if someone told me, “Well, you are becoming a Christian.  If you are not circumcised, then you have to have this done now.”  I’d be like, “Um, I’m not so sure about this anymore.”  But that was just the tip of the ice berg.  Circumcision was just one part of the Law.  There were those in Galatia who believed that the entirety of the law must be adhered to in order for one to become Christian and attain salvation.

    Paul resoundingly says, “No!”  Why?  Why would Paul say this?  Why would Paul say that adhering strictly to the Jewish law to become Christian and attain salvation is wrong?

    Let’s begin with an analogy that Timothy Keller uses in his book The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism.  Let’s say that you have worked diligently to install a wonderful gated entrance to your home.  You’ve spent a lot of time and money putting things together, but then someone runs into it with their car doing a couple of thousand dollars in damage.  What happens next?

    Well, someone has to pay for the damage.  If the person who was driving is forced to pay for the damage, this is called restitution.  Whether legally or voluntarily, this person pays for the damages he or she caused by his or her actions.  This is the right and just thing to do.

    Now, let’s say that God created the heavens and the earth.  He put humankind on the earth, and He endowed all of creation with free will so that creation could live in a true relationship with its creator.  Now, let’s say that humankind and creation rebelled against its creator and broke that relationship.  Who is going to fix it?  Who is going to pay to have it fixed?  Well, in the broken gate scenario, it is right and just for the one who broke it to fix it, is it not?  So, how do we as humankind and creation fix what we broke?  Is it possible for us to fix this relationship when in fact we discover that we are broken ourselves?   And what if the price to fix this relationship hinges on our absolute perfection?  Can we fix something this broken?  The fact of the matter is, we don’t have the ability, capability, or finances to fix what was broken by humankind’s and creation’s rebellion.

    Which brings us to the next phase of the scenario in the broken gate.  The landowner/homeowner can forgive the damage and fix it himself.  Of course, this will cost the landowner.  He or she will have to dig into his or her own pocketbook and pay the price.  This is called forgiveness.  Notice that there is a cost.  You can’t just let the gate lie in disrepair.

    And so, when it comes to the broken nature of the relationship between humankind and God, who chooses to fix things?  Well, God Himself does knowing that there is no possible way for us to fix it ourselves.  And the price is high.  I mean, think about the broken nature of creation.  This isn’t just a little do it yourself project.  The damage is great, and the cost is astronomical.  Therefore, God had to die to repair it.  God had to take on human flesh, face betrayal, evil, injustice, suffering, and finally death to pay the price for creation’s failure.  Thus, the crucifixion. 

    Ah, but there is also resurrection.  This is the promised first fruits of the new creation–a creation where God, humankind, and the world God created will be renewed and all the evil will be unmade.  The price is paid.  The reconstruction is underway to be brought about fully and completely in God’s time.  This is the grace of God which Paul talks about in the snippet from Galatians chapter 2.  This is why Jesus had to die in the manner He did.  He paid the price.

    Which leads us to the question: what next?  What is our role now that Christ has paid the price?  Where do we go from here? 

    Let’s pick apart this final statement from St. Paul, “19For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; 20and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. 21I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.”

    This is dense stuff.  Really dense in its application and implication.  Do I pursue the works of the law believing that I must accomplish it to receive salvation?  Do I say, “I’d better not lie, cheat, steal or else I will go to hell.”?  Do I say, “I’d better worship regularly, give to church and charity, feed the hungry, work for justice, and do all sorts of good things or else I might find myself in a fiery ordeal.”?  Do I say, “There are certain things that I have to do and other things that I can’t do so that I get into heaven.”?  No.  If it is by your actions or inactions that you believe you go to heaven or hell, then Christ died for nothing.  If you think your actions or inactions have anything to do with where you end up eternally, then Christ died for nothing.  For then everything depends upon you and what you do–not what Christ did.

    And Christ did not die for nothing.  His actions are responsible for our salvation.  Period!

    But that does not mean we do not adhere to those things I spoke about earlier?  Again, no.  For as a believer in Christ, I live to and for God.  I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me and who now lives in me.  And if I live to and for God, I must ask myself, “How does my life reflect this reality?  How does my life show that I live to God and for God?  How does my life reflect that I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me?”

    Do I lie, cheat, steal, commit injustice, gossip, live in self-righteousness looking down my nose at others?  Does this convey the nature of Christ?  Do I walk around telling everyone how sorry they are and how they are sinful in the eyes of God and how they need to repent?  Does this convey the nature of Christ?  Do I act as though I have everything figured out with all knowledge and power?  Do I come across as though I know all there is to know and have achieved perfection?  Does this convey the nature of Christ?  Or, do I seek to be like Christ–humbling myself in perfect obedience to God, pouring myself out in service to God and to others showing compassion, forgiveness, and an uncompromising faith in the power and goodness of God?  Christ did not die for nothing.  Let your life show this convincingly.  Amen.

"They Glorified God Because of Me"

    Paul was no friend of the early church.  He freely admits this.  In fact, Paul admits that he violently persecuted the church.  We have further witness of this from Luke’s account in the book of Acts when Luke tells us about the first martyr of the church, Stephen.

    Stephen proclaimed the gospel, and he upset quite a few folks.  Rather than backtrack on what he proclaimed, he pushed the envelope, and he was stoned.  There was a young man who looked after the cloaks of those who were stoning Stephen, and that young man was named Saul, who would later become Paul.  This same Saul had obtained permission to head to Damascus and arrest Christians there when an extraordinary event took place that changed his life, but more about that later.

    Paul grew up as a Pharisee, and by his own account, he was a very good one.  He was the modern day equivalent of the churchman who went to church every Sunday rain or shine; who gave 10% of his offering to the church; who went to Bible study on Sunday and Wednesday night; who contributed to every fund-raiser and who served on the church council.  But I think perhaps it went even further than that because Paul calls himself blameless according to the law.  This means, Paul ate the right foods, washed his hands at the right times, wore the right clothing, prayed at the right times and associated with the right people.  The Jewish faith was not something Paul simply talked about and practiced when it suited him; no.  The Jewish faith was something he lived to the nth degree.

    Paul was so absorbed into the Jewish faith that it literally was his life.  And he was not happy about anything that would threaten his beloved faith.  When word started being spread that a group of people dared to say that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah who was raised from the dead, Paul knew this posed a threat.  It was obvious to him this was a lie.  The Jewish people were not free from their enemies.  Rome still occupied Israel.  God had not reestablished the Jewish monarchy as no descendant of David sat on the throne.  And indeed, no one could be raised from the dead.  Once a person was dead, that person was dead–no return from that state.  Despite all the evidence, this movement was attracting followers.  His fellow Jews were converting and becoming Christian, and this was troubling.  How could people follow this lie?  How could people desert the truth of the Jewish faith and say Jesus is the resurrected Lord and Messiah?  It did not make sense to him.  It was obviously false...and a threat.  The movement had to be countered.

    And Paul was all to happy to oblige.  The same drive that made him work to perfection drove him to persecute the early church.  He strove to find followers of Jesus and have them arrested.  His zealous pursuit and defense of the Jewish faith won admirers in high places, so when Paul heard about the church taking root in Damascus, he asked for and received permission to persecute the church there.  Armed with arrest warrants, he headed out.

    And that is when his life was changed.  In an instant.  In the blink of an eye.  A light appeared, and a voice spoke, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”

    “Who are you?” Saul responded.

    “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.”

    Paul had encountered the Living Lord, and it was a life-changing event.  I spoke not to long ago how this event completely shattered his worldview and forced him to rethink everything he thought he knew.  It turned Paul’s world upside down, and after all was said and done, he went from zealous persecutor of the Church to ardent missionary and proclaimer of the Gospel to the Gentiles.

    Most agreed, the transformation was amazing.  The one who persecuted the Church with zeal now became one of its strongest supporters and one of the most obsessed evangelists that ever existed.  Paul says as much in our second lesson this morning as he recounts all of these episodes in his life.

    He says, “20In what I am writing to you, before God, I do not lie! 21Then I went into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, 22and I was still unknown by sight to the churches of Judea that are in Christ; 23they only heard it said, ‘The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy.’”

    And then we come to a very fascinating statement in verse 24, “And they glorified God because of me.”

    Think about that statement for just a minute.  “They glorified God because of me.”

    I began to wonder if I had heard such a statement in the entire time I’ve been serving as a pastor.  I began thinking about all the thank you notes I have received.  I began thinking about all the thank you notes I have seen published in church newsletters.  I began thinking about all the correspondence I’ve received from other religious institutions and such.  I began to think about all the comments I’ve received on my sermons and the comments I have given to others who have preached.  And to the best of my recollection, I cannot ever think of hearing anything similar.

    Usually, the things churches and pastors get say this or something similar:

    Thank you for your words of comfort at the funeral.
    Thank you for sending a donation to help us in our mission and ministry.
    Thank you for officiating at our wedding and helping us enjoy our special day.
    Thank you for helping our family out during this financial crisis.

    Now, these words aren’t bad.  There is nothing wrong with them, so if you are in the process of writing a thank you letter or what have you, please do not think that I am somehow slamming you.  I’m not.  But contrast these words with what Paul says:

    They glorified God because of me.

    While many people thank us, the early Christians were glorifying God because of Paul.  This leads me to ask why are people focusing on us instead of giving God the glory?

    I have to ask that question because I think it gets to the heart and soul of the purpose of the Church in society.  I think it gets to the heart and soul of what our mission and our purpose as Christians is in this world in which we live.

    Let me try to be as clear as possible without being too offensive: it is not the church’s job to call attention to itself.  It is not the church’s job to simply do good things and get recognized for that.  It is not the church’s job to get as many people to join as possible so that we can keep the lights on, the building air conditioned, run a few programs that keep kids entertained, hold a few fund raisers and benefits for those in need, and other such things.  It is not a pastor’s job to work hard to get compliments on what he or she preaches or teaches or does at a funeral or wedding.  Now, we certainly do all of those things, but this is not our primary purpose.  It is not our primary job.

    Please listen closely: our primary job is to introduce people to and point the way to the God who makes all of these things possible.  Our primary job is to lift up the awesomeness of our God and what He did in taking on flesh, dwelling among us, and reconciling the world unto himself.  It is our primary job to keep God as the focus, as the center, as that which our lives revolve around.  We do not want people to see us!  I know that may be hard to get your head around, but I assure you, I think it is absolutely true.  We do not want people to see us; we want them to see God.

    And so, we must ask ourselves: are people seeing us or are they seeing God?  Are they thanking us or are they thanking God?  Are others glorifying us or are they glorifying God?  And if they are focusing on us instead of God, why is that the case?

    Let us pray.  Heavenly Father, the early church glorified you because of your work.  Sometimes we get things backward today and strive to lift up ourselves instead of you.  Give us the strength, courage, and desire to set ourselves aside so that others may see you and give glory to you because of us.  Amen.