Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Fruits of the Spirit: Peace

Today, we come to the third fruit of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5:22-23: peace.



As we discovered when dealing with the word: love, there are also several meanings to the word peace.  There is the kind of peace that a mother of three young children longs for.  Some of you understand this kind of desire.  It’s the kids are jumping around the house on a rainy day, screaming and yelling, knocking over furniture, asking for juice and snacks, putting all kinds of demands on you, lock yourself in the restroom for five minutes so you can get away kind of peace.  This kind of peace is the absence of any distractions or demands on your time or person.

But that is not the only kind of peace we know and long for.  There is also the absence of conflict kind of peace.  I had an interesting discussion with a World War II veteran this week who shared with me what it was like to find this kind of peace.  His unit had been assigned to go after the Eagle’s Nest in Germany.  For those of you who might be unfamiliar with that term, the Eagle’s Nest was the place where Hitler was supposed to be holed up–a last stronghold.  This veteran had faced the daunting task of fighting to capture this fortified, dangerous position.  But before, they moved out, they received word that the war was over.  Peace had been declared.  “The feeling was unimaginable,” this man said.  The absence of what had been brutal conflict was overwhelming.  We long for this kind of peace.

There is also the feeling that we experience in the midst of conflict and strife that all will be okay.  We tend to call this inner peace.  I know this feeling well because I have had it numerous times in my life.  The most vivid one was when I was working for the YMCA summer camp program.  We had taken a group of children to a park in northwest Austin, TX.  It was June of 1996, and we received word that the town of Jarrel, TX had been hit by tornadoes, and they were headed our way.  Complicating matters was that the Y had hired school busses to shuttle us and several other groups to the elementary schools which served as our home bases.  Those busses were busy shuttling another group, and we were without transportation. The skies darkened, and we took the kids to a ravine hoping that the storms would pass over us.  I climbed to the top of a small hill and looked northward and saw a funnel cloud heading toward us.  Yet, in the midst of all of this, I was strangely calm.  Deep down, I knew everything was going to be okay.  And sure enough, a local family saw our plight and urged us to take shelter in their house.  The storms passed us by while we huddled safely there–in peace.

It is quite interesting that in all of these circumstances, we often talk about working for peace. We talk about trying to make peace happen.  We broker treaties, schedule retreats, go to counseling, and all sorts of other things to generate peace.  But Paul, in this list calls peace a fruit of the Spirit.  This means that for a Christian, peace isn’t something that we manufacture as if we can find and assemble the pieces to make something come together in perfect harmony; instead, peace is something that naturally flows from us as individuals and is found in our congregations and churches.  In a real sense, peace just happens.  How can this be?

Well, it all begins with Jesus.  Jesus makes a very interesting comment in the book of John.  27"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”  When Jesus says these words, he is tapping into his Jewish heritage and talking about Shalom–a deep sense of well being; a sense of being in harmony with God.  This is not a simple, fleeting feeling.  It is a true gift.  And what is that gift.

First, let’s examine what Jesus means when he says, “I do not give to you as the world gives.”  What does the world give?  Remember, Jesus is saying these things in the midst of the Pax Romana–the peace of Rome.  It was a grand narrative that the Roman Empire proclaimed.  They were bringing peace to the world.  But how?  How did the Roman Empire bring their peace?  How has peace been brought to the world for countless generations?  Through violence.  The Romans established peace by stomping out anyone who opposed them.  They viciously put down any opposing army or insurrection.  They crucified thousands of people.  They rendered swift and merciless judgement on criminals.  Their violence established peace.  This is how the world establishes peace.  The biggest kid on the block gets to call the shots, and if anyone dares to oppose him or her, then the consequences are severe.  There is no conflict because no one wants to take on the big kid.  Everyone fears reprisal.  Everyone walks in lock step because to do so means one will endure the wrath of the one in charge.  This is the peace that the world gives.  Jesus says his peace is not like this.  Not by a long shot.

So, what kind of peace does Jesus bring?  Let me begin to flesh this out by reminding you of an older story–a story that is found at the very beginning of the Bible.  Some of you may remember the story of Noah’s Ark.  You know that it rained for 40 days and 40 nights and Noah and his family and a bunch of animals were saved by being on a giant boat.  And you may remember that the boat came to rest on top of a mountain and stayed there until the water subsided.  Now, I would like to read to you the ending of that story.  Genesis chapter 9 starting at verse 8:

8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, 9‘As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, 10and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. 11I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.’ 12God said, ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: 13I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. 14When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, 15I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.’ 17God said to Noah, ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.’

Now, most of us were taught that this bow is the rainbow.  The rainbow is often seen as a sign of peace.  Why?  Well, please note that in the lesson from Genesis, the word “rainbow” is not used.  The word bow is.  Do you know what a bow is?  No, not the bow that is put in someone’s hair to make it look pretty.  This is a bow, the kind that is used to shoot arrows. The kind that in that day was used to make war.  God hung up his bow after the flood.  After God punished the sinfulness of humankind, there was peace.

Now, let’s fast forward thousands of years.  Let’s fast forward to another hill, this one outside the city of Jerusalem.  On that hill stands a man, hanging and dying on a cross.  But he is more than just a man.  He is also God incarnate.  He is the creator and sustainer of the universe.  He is one person of the Holy Trinity who took on human flesh to live among us.  He lived the perfect life, following every command of God the Father, and because he was spotless and blameless, he became the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  That man, hanging on the cross has taken the world’s sin upon himself.  He has reached into you and into me and taken our unholiness upon himself.  He has reached into you and me and taken our brokenness upon himself.  He has reached into you and me and taken every evil thought, word, and deed upon himself.  And he is dying in our place.  He is suffering the torments of hell in our place.  He is taking the punishment of the world’s sin so that we might never have to face it.  He is redeeming us and offering us forgiveness of sin.  And not only is he doing this.  No, this is just one half of the equation.  The other half is what Jesus is giving to us.  He is giving us his righteousness.  He is giving us his blamelessness.  He is giving us his spotlessness.  He is making us holy so that we can stand before God Almighty acceptable in His sight.  He is transforming us into his brothers and sisters so that we may receive the promises of God.  He is giving us the same status that he had as sinless.

Instead of washing the world clean by a flood and destroying once again the wickedness of humankind and punishing us for our sin, God pays the price himself and washes us clean by His blood on the cross of Calvary.  Instead of hanging a bow in the sky, God hangs himself on the cross in a declaration of peace.  Why?  Because, when you hang a bow up, the bow is still there and it can be used later.  War can be re-declared.  This time, the bow is broken, shattered, and a lasting peace is established between God and humanity as God pays the price once and for all!

St. Paul wrote about it this way in the book of Romans, “6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. 8But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. 9Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. 10For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. 11But more than that, we even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.”

Through Jesus Christ, we have peace with God.  A right relationship with God has been restored.  We have been justified.  We have been made right with our creator, not by any action we have taken, but by the actions that Jesus Christ has taken.  And God announced this new status with the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  God declared that everything Jesus said and did was true; and God showed that what happened to Jesus will also happen to us.  Death will not touch us.  We too will be raised to eternal life.

And when we put our trust in this action; when we stop trying to make ourselves right and throw ourselves on the mercy of God and God’s action, something happens deep within us.  Something happens that brings us a sense of overwhelming peace and comfort.  We know that we are right with our Creator.  We know we stand in God’s love–a love that will never go away.  And we know that God will act to bring us through whatever trial or tribulation we will face.  Even death cannot have the last say.  God will work to bring all things toward the good.  Such things bring us an overwhelming sense of peace deep within our hearts–even when the world rages around us.  Such is the fruit that grows within our hearts.

But it does not stay within our hearts.  These fruits of the Spirit also begin coming forth in our lives.  Peace begins emerging in our relationships–particularly in the relationships between those who believe in Jesus.  For you see, as our hearts change, we too understand that peace is not given as the world gives.  We begin to understand that peace is not brought about by being the top dog and strongest, mightiest person who can call all the shots.  No.  Instead, peace begins to emerge when we, like Jesus take on the pain and suffering of offering forgiveness.  Peace begins to emerge when we are willing to pay the price for someone else wronging us.  Remember our sermon series on forgiveness not too long ago?  See how the two are inter-related?  When a community of such like minded people gather, there are problems.  There are issues.  Our human natures still bring about conflict, BUT because our hearts are willing to absorb the cost; because our hearts have the peace of Christ within, reconciliation and forgiveness rule.  Reconciliation and forgiveness take center stage.  The same reconciliation and forgiveness God through Jesus extended to the whole world emerges within a community of faith bringing peace between brothers and sisters in Christ.

During my sermon series on forgiveness, I told the joke about the preacher who preached on loving one’s enemies.  Remember that joke?  A pastor preached a sermon to his congregation on loving and forgiving one’s enemies.  After 30 minutes, he asked his congregation, “Who believes we should love and forgive our enemies?”  About half of those in attendance raised their hands.  The preacher wasn’t satisfied with this, so he preached another 30 minutes.  He then asked again, “How many of you believe we should love and forgive our enemies?”  About 3/4 of the congregation raised their hands.  So, the preacher preached another 45 minutes.  He then asked once more, “Who believes we should love and forgive our enemies?”  The whole congregation raised their hands except for 94 year old Mrs. Mabel sitting in the back of the church.  The preacher was astounded.  “Mrs. Mabel, how is it that all the rest of the church believes they need to love and forgive their enemies, but you don’t?”  Mrs. Mabel replied, “I ain’t got no enemies!”  The preacher was astounded, “You have no enemies?”  Mrs Mabel responded, “No.  Not a one.”  The preacher was then filled with excitement as he said, “Mrs. Mabel, please come down here and give your testimony.  Come down here and tell us how it is that you have no enemies.”  Mrs. Mabel shuffled up to the front of the church. She took the microphone in her hand and held it close.  Then she said, “It’s because I outlived all them hussies!”

I am sure Mrs. Mabel was at peace, but not because she was producing peace.  She was not bearing the fruits of the Spirit.  Imagine a place where such personal relationships were governed by the peace that forgiveness brings.  Imagine such a place governed by a group of people who were quick to bear one another’s burdens and realize how deeply flawed one another can be.  Imagine a community where the words, “I forgive you,” easily flow as they did from the lips of Jesus.  Imagine a community of people who know the peace of being forgiven by God and who then extend that forgiveness to one another.  Would you want to be a part of that community?  Could you stand being away from that type of community for a long period of time?  Would you want to stay in that community and experience it day in and day out?  At its best, this community would be called the church.  It would be called those who are forgiven and who forgive as Jesus did.  It would be called those who produce the fruit of Peace because they know the grace of God truly and deeply.  May we be such a community.  Amen.

Monday, March 6, 2017

Radiating Jesus: Romans 8:1-4

This past week I did a wedding on Wednesday, and it was a very unique  wedding, at least for me. This couple had been trying to get married for a couple years. However each time they tried to get married something would happen. Twice, the groom was arrested.  I kid you not.  And the last time he was arrested, they had already gotten the marriage license. They still wanted to get married, so the bride’s brother was going to stand in for the groom.  I did some checking on that and found that such a practice was illegal unless one of the parties was in the military.  We had to reschedule once again.  The bride in this ceremony had her own set of issues.  We had helped this woman several times through our community care fund by giving her food and paying for her electric bill a couple of times.  But the last time she asked us for assistance, we called the light company and found out that she hadn’t paid her own light bill in over a year.  Someone else had always paid it for her.  We didn’t help her that time, and we haven’t since.   But, she does have a relationship with me, and she wanted me to do her wedding.

And so, Wednesday afternoon, out in Raccoon Bend, I stood at the porch of a dilapidated shack with two people.  One with a long criminal record.  One who had been playing the system for years, and with flea bitten dogs and puppies running around my feet, I presided at their wedding.  It was indeed a unique wedding, but I noticed something at that moment which is generally universal at all weddings.  I looked at the bride and groom as they stood gazing into each other’s eyes.  I looked at them as they made their vows and as they kissed afterward.  And they radiated love for one another.  No matter their past.  No matter the uncertainty of the future, the love that these two people had for one another was undeniable.  You could see it.

Perhaps you have seen such glimpses of this at times.  Perhaps you have seen someone who radiates love and life.  Perhaps you have glimpsed someone who is filled with an otherworldly spirit of hope, and it radiates into all that they say and do.  I have known several people like this, and I marvel at them. It’s one thing to get a glimpse of such a thing at a wedding or some other sort of function, but it is another thing to see someone who lives their life in such a fashion.  I want to spend time with people like that because when I do, I too feel full of hope.  I too feel full of joy.  I too feel full of peace.  And here is the question I want to pose to you this morning: shouldn’t our churches be full of such people?  Shouldn’t we radiate this kind of love, joy, and peace to others?  When folks walk into our buildings and meet us, shouldn’t they come away thinking, “Man, those folks are full of something otherworldly.  They are just different--in a good sort of way.”?

Folks who are like this; churches that are like this are because the Gospel has sunk in.  The Gospel has weaseled its way deep into their hearts and changed them from deep within.  The joy, love, and peace these individuals and churches have are not fleeting moments; they are lasting manifestations because folks have come to know the great love that God has poured out to them when they least deserved it.

Today, we begin Romans Chapter 8.  As I have begun my study of this chapter, one continuing commentary has been front and center.  Over and over I have heard, “Romans 8 is one of the greatest chapters in the entire Bible.”  If verses one through four are any indication, then indeed, the next few weeks will be a thrill ride.

The chapter begins with these words, “There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  Stop a moment and think about those words.  Know that in the Greek, St. Paul uses some of the strongest possible language in this sentence.  Paul says, if you have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ; if you have Him as your representative; if you are joined to Him, then you do not stand condemned.  Nothing you have ever done; nothing you are currently doing; nothing you will ever do will bring condemnation down upon you.  Nothing.  As long as Jesus is your representative; as long as you are in Him, you are right with God.  Those times when you took that extra drink?  No condemnation.  Those times when you lusted after someone who is not your spouse?  No condemnation.  Those people who took their own lives by suicide?  No condemnation.  Those times when you gossiped and lied about others?  No condemnation.  Those times when you thought you were doing everything right only to find that all that you had done was wrong?  No condemnation.  Those times when you held another person in contempt because they didn’t believe the way you believed?  No condemnation.  You are in Jesus Christ.  You are right with God.

Because, as Paul now says, “The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.”  Paul means here that because of all those things you once did, and will do, mind you, you deserve condemnation.  You deserve God’s wrath and anger.  If you break a law, you deserve punishment.  If you sin, you deserve to die.  That’s just the cold, hard facts.  But, when you are in Christ Jesus, there is another law that prevails.  There is another court of justice.  There is the law of the Spirit of life.  That doesn’t seem to make much sense until we go onto the next verse.

“Because God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh…”  Now, let’s try and wrap our heads around this for a moment.  What Paul is saying here is that the law could not turn us into good people.  The law could not make us behave.  The law could not change our hearts and make us say, “I’m going to do the right thing because the law told me to do so.”  No.  We saw earlier that whenever the law is given to us, there is something that rebels within us--the power of sin.  That power causes us to do the exact opposite of what we know to be right.  This is how the law was weakened by sinful flesh.  There is nothing wrong with the law, there is something wrong deep within us.  And here is the part that gets fascinating.  At least it’s fascinating to me.  God did what the law could not do by sending Jesus in the likeness of sinful flesh--mind you, Paul does not say that Jesus’ flesh was sinful or that Jesus was sinful.  Jesus came to earth in the flesh.  This is noteworthy because Paul says that Jesus condemned sin in the flesh.  What does that mean?  

It means that Jesus went to war with the power of sin, and he was not corrupted by it.  Whereas we become corrupted by the power of sin, Jesus was not.  Whereas we lose the battle and do what we know we shouldn’t do, Jesus won the battle and did what He was supposed to do.  In so doing, Jesus cornered the power of sin in His flesh; He took sin into His very being, and He condemned it.  He gave it a death blow.  He overcame it.  And he became a sin offering in the process.  I know you didn’t read that in the text that is in your bulletin, but the phrase “and to deal with sin” should probably be translated “became a sin offering.”  This means Jesus offered up himself to atone for our sins--to ensure that justice is served, and, here is where things get really, really cool…

Verse 4, “so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.”  Now, if you just read this superficially, you might get the idea that all of a sudden, we will be able to fulfill God’s law perfectly.  We will be able to be perfect people who do everything correctly.  This is a wrong reading.  That’s not what Paul is getting at at all.  No.  In the Greek, the verb be fulfilled is a passive verb.  It is not an active verb.  This means, the fulfillment is not done by us.  The fulfilling of the law is not done by us.  We are powerless to fulfill the law.  There is only one who has fulfilled it.  There is only one who has accomplished it, and that is Jesus.  So, how can Paul then say that it might be fulfilled in us?  How in the world can it be fulfilled in us?  Here’s the cool part.  When we walk by the Spirit; when we have Jesus as our representative; when we are joined to Jesus: there is an interchange that takes place.  One of my commentaries put it this way, “Christ becomes what we are so that we might become what Christ is.”

Listen to that statement again because it sums up what happens when we are in Christ Jesus.  “Christ becomes what we are so that we might become what Christ is.”  Jesus takes on the likeness of sinful flesh, has the power of sin enter into him and try to corrupt Him--in this fashion, He becomes just like us.  But, He defeats sin.  He stays uncorrupted, and then offers Himself up for us as a sin offering.  In so doing, He covers all of our sins.  He makes us right before God, and then He places Himself on and in us through the power of the Spirit.  Jesus puts Himself on you and in you through the power of the Spirit.  

You may say at this point, “Well, that’s all well and good, but how come I don’t feel like Jesus?  How come I don’t have peace and joy and radiate love?  How come I can’t make those things happen in my life when I want them so badly?  I want to be peaceful.  I want to be joyful.  I want to radiate love.  How come I don’t?”

I think the answer is: you are trying to accomplish it yourself.  You are focusing on your actions and what you think you have to do to become joyful; peaceful; and radiate love.  What Paul is trying to convey to us here, I think is this: the answer to living a holy life full of love, peace, and joy is not to try harder.  It’s not to focus on my actions and what I do.  It’s to trust Jesus more; to turn my heart and my head toward Him and what He has done by His death and resurrection; to realize that He fulfilled the law for me; to realize He defeated sin for me; to realize that He won eternal life for me when I least deserved it.  And the more you turn to Him; the more you think about what He did on the cross for you; the more you reflect upon being joined to Him in His death and resurrection; the more and more you will become like Him.  And oftentimes you won’t even realize it because He is the one transforming you from the inside out!  

I have also come to believe what can be said about individuals can also be said about churches.  For years, I was told that a more business model of churches was what was needed to help our congregations grow.  Get a good, solid mission statement.  Implement long range planning.  Make a plan of how to welcome guests and visitors.  Implement a plan for programming so that it will grow along with your congregation.  I’ve seen a lot of congregations implement these things.  I’ve seen a lot of congregations who have the perfect plan for welcoming visitors and guests.  I’ve seen congregations with wonderful long range plans and fantastic mission statements.  And I’ve seen a few of these congregations grow.  Many more remain stagnant and even decline.  Why?  Where is the focus? What are these congregations emphasizing?  They are emphasizing and focusing on what they are supposed to do.  They are trusting in themselves to grow their churches--and for a time it might work.  It did at my previous congregation right up until the time disagreements broke out.  Right up until the time folks began arguing about what programs were right and what programs were wrong.  That is what inevitably happens whenever you focus on what you are supposed to do.  Folks can and do disagree about such things, and oftentimes with just cause.

However, there really is no argument about what God has done for us.  There really is no argument about what Jesus has accomplished for us on the cross.  There really is no argument about how He poured Himself out for us while we were still sinners.  When a church focuses on Jesus and what Jesus has done; when He becomes the full sum and substance of why a church worships, fellowships, teaches, programs, and the like; when Jesus dominates everything and the Gospel permeates the thoughts and minds of a church’s members, the doing comes naturally--because Jesus is transforming us into His image and likeness.  How do we become people who radiate love, peace and joy for more than just a few moments?  How do we become a church that radiates love, peace and joy for more than just a few Sundays?  The answer isn’t do more--it’s remembering that in Christ there is no condemnation because He has become like us and defeated sin and death so that we can become like Him.  Amen.

Monday, February 2, 2015

You are Possessed!



    I want to leap directly into our biblical text this morning from the Gospel of Mark because there are quite a few things to consider–not the least this whole idea of the demonic.  I mean, those of us who live in this part of the world are not accustomed to talking about demons and angels and spiritual warfare.  Because of science and philosophy, we have basically decided these things are the stuff of legend and practiced by backwards cultures who have not been enlightened.  But I want to take a little bit of time this morning to show that in some way, we are not only all possessed, but we all deserve exactly what that demon received from Jesus.  Then, I want to show you what happens instead.

    Mark tells us that Jesus and the disciples He just called go into a city called Capernaum, and Jesus enters the synagogue to teach.  He begins teaching on the Torah, and He causes quite a stir among the listeners because he taught with authority and not like the scribes.  This was a big deal.  Why?

    Well, the scribes were big wigs in the Jewish community.  They combined the offices of Bible scholar, teacher and moralist, and civil lawyer.  They were highly, highly respected by a great many people, and they were those of a select few who could enter the Jewish High Court.  As scribes walked through the streets, people would defer to them, and the first seats in the synagogues were reserved for the scribes.  I’m giving you all this background information to show that folks listened very carefully to what the scribes said, and when the scribes were doing their teaching, they always began their teaching by saying, “Well, this text from the Bible according to Rabbi so and so, who said according to Rabbi so and so, who said according to Rabbi so and so, means this.”  You see, the scribes always appealed to other authorities to back up their interpretations of the Bible.  And along comes Jesus.  Jesus doesn’t make any appeals to other rabbis.  Jesus doesn’t make any appeals to any experts in theology.  Jesus stands before the synagogue and says, “Listen up folks, the Bible says this.”  Jesus is showing that He, Himself is authoritative.  He has authority to interpret the Scriptures on His own without the need to reference anyone else.  It was quite an unheard of thing.

    It is at this moment of teaching, when folks are bewildered and awe struck by Jesus that a man enters the synagogue who has an unclean spirit.  Don’t kid yourself and think that Mark is trying to lessen the evil nature of the spirit that inhabits this man by calling it unclean.  Mark uses the words unclean and evil throughout his Gospel to refer to such spirits, and the connotation is clear–this guy is inhabited by something evil; something dark; something that is anti-God and anti-goodness.  The guy with this spirit walks into the synagogue and causes a major disruption. He is shouting at the top of his lungs, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”

    Now, I want to stop and stay here a moment because there is a matter of importance to delve into. The phrase here “What have you to do with us?” is a very interesting statement–it’s a loaded statement in the ancient world, and it almost always–almost always indicates that someone is trying to place distance between himself and another.  According to one commentary I read, “The meaning can range from conflict between two parties..., or avoidance of conflict..., to simple disengagement of one party from another.”  (Michaels143) In this particular case, the demon recognizes Jesus; the demon recognizes who Jesus is as the Holy One of God; and the demon knows what Jesus is here to do–destroy us!!  Hence, when the demon says “What have you to do with us?”, the demon is saying, “I want nothing to do with you because I know you are here to destroy me!  Get away from us!”  You see, this phrase indicates that the demon is trying to put an inseparable gap between him and Jesus.  Why is this important?

    How often do we strive to put an inseparable gap between us and God?  Oh, you might think that just by being here this morning or by praying every day or by trying to do good things that you are pursuing God.  Others of you might think that you and God are just like this (hold up intertwined fingers).  Some of you might be here this morning out of curiosity trying to figure out what Christianity is all about and you don’t think this possession stuff and separation from God has anything to do with you, but give me a chance to address this for just a moment by starting with this question: in what do you place your ultimate trust?

    Think about that question as I say it one more time, in what do you put your ultimate trust?  You might not have ever thought of this question before, so let me get you to think in another fashion.  Complete the sentence: my life would be perfect if only... 

    Let me tell you how I would have answered that question not too long ago because there were several answers to that statement, and in my weaker moments, I still have these thoughts.  My life would be perfect if only I would win the Powerball.  My life would be perfect if only I could make my congregation grow larger.  My life would be perfect if only my work could get noticed and people would think I am extremely intelligent and a great pastor and they would invite me to come and speak in front of their churches and assemblies.  Do you hear what I am trying to put my trust in?  Do you hear in the background the things I thought were my saviors?  I was putting my trust in money; in prestige; in power; and in acceptance.  I thought these things would bring me joy and happiness.  And the lure of them was tremendous.  Every time I’d get a little extra cash, my heart leaped.  Every time the Powerball reached a certain level–at least over $100 million, I’d buy a ticket.  Every time folks told me how wonderful a sermon was, I found joy.  When new folks joined the church, I was on cloud nine.  Ah, but do you think it was ever enough?  Do you think I ever was satisfied by any of these deep down desires?  Do you think I found any sort of lasting joy and peace?   Not a chance.  Not a chance in the least.  Why?

    The demons would give me just enough to satisfy me for a time before crushing my spirit.  They would give me just enough to hope in them before whispering in my heart and soul–don’t you wish you had more.  And I wanted more.  You know, I knew down deep, I think, that it was wrong.  I knew these things should not drive me, but I could not help it.  I could not get away from those demons because...because I wanted them. I wanted money and power and prestige and status.  I wanted them badly.  If only I had them, my life would be perfect.  Do any of you resonate with such things?  I am not asking you to nod or say yes, but in your heart, do you know what I am speaking of?  I think each and every one of us do–because every human heart has such desires.  They differ from one to another, but every human heart desires something deep down which will satisfy it, and we, for the most part, don’t realize we are possessed by that desire–so possessed that we cannot tell where we stop and it starts.  The demon is in very, very deep.

    And, for those of us who believe in God, we wonder why God isn’t helping us get what we want.  Oftentimes we wonder why God isn’t helping us get that thing which we tell ourselves will make our lives perfect.  And, in fact, when something happens to us which actually puts a wall between us and our deepest desire–when we are faced with hardship or hurt, we cry out to God saying, “What are you doing to me?!!”  You know, that’s not very far off from “What do you want with me, Jesus of Nazareth?”

    Because what is behind that question to God?  Why do we toss our hands up in the sky and say, “God why are you doing this to me?”  Here’s what’s behind that question, and I’m sorry if this hurts, but it hurt me like hell when I first heard it too.  When we ask that question of God, we don’t believe we deserve what is happening.  We don’t believe we deserve any sort of pain or suffering or agony. We believe we have done enough good things and been good enough sort of people that we don’t deserve God causing us any sort of harm.  When we say, “God, why are you doing this to me?”, we are really saying, “God, I’m a pretty doggone good person, and I don’t deserve this!  Stop it!”  Do you see the self-righteousness of that statement?  Do you see how that statement is trying to put distance between you and God?  Do you see how it is putting an inseparable gap between you and God?  Remember when I said we were all possessed?  Remember when I said we deserve what happened to that demon?  Yeah, it’s not pretty.  We are all right there being confronted by the Holy One of God.

    And what Jesus does to that demon really isn’t pretty.  “Shut up!” Jesus says, “Be muzzled, tie a rope around your mouth!” –that’s actually what the Greek says.  “Come out of Him!”  And with a loud cry–a cry that is indicative of a death wail, the demon comes out.  And the people are amazed–actually the word means they are either amazed in a good way or they are terrified.  Perhaps they are terrified because Jesus just revealed He indeed is here in this world to destroy evil.  Jesus is here to defeat the powers of darkness, including the darkness which is deep within our hearts–with those demons we cling to.

    But here is the interesting twist.  Here is the message Jesus has for you and for me.  Instead of crushing us and destroying us–instead of tearing us out and sending us to our demise, Jesus Himself was tied up.  Jesus Himself was cast out by the powers that be and hung on a cross.  And while on that cross He cried out a death wail, “MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!” as he endured the wrath of God that was meant for you and for me.  He took upon Himself the punishment which we should have received for trusting in false gods and for putting an inseparable gap between us and God.  And Jesus did this because He loves you.

    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 that the world may be saved through Him!

    1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.”  God’s perfect love casts out our fear, our demons, and changes our hearts.   Our hearts are grasped by what God has done so that we begin saying something very different.  We say, “My life would be perfect, if I had Jesus.”  For in Him we find true fulfillment; true joy; and true peace.  May you find peace in Jesus.  Amen.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Peace in the Storm


Gospel Lesson: Matthew 14:22-33

22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’  28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’

    O.K.  I know this is going to sound a bit strange, but I want you to forget everything you’ve ever heard about our Gospel lesson for just a few minutes.  Really, I do.  I mean, I know some of you have heard this lesson preached on more than a few times.  In my time here with you, this is actually the fourth time I’ve preached on it because of the three year lectionary cycle.  And there is a reason I want you to forget about what has been preached.  That reason is, nearly every time I have preached on this text, I’ve made it about what we are supposed to do.  Nearly every sermon I have heard preached on this text does exactly that–it focuses on what we should do. 

    “Keep your eyes on Jesus even in the midst of the storms.”

    “If you want to walk on water, you’ve got to get out of the boat.”

    “Don’t doubt, just believe.”

    Did you hear the focus of all these points?  Did you hear what is lifted up?  It’s all about me and what I need to be doing.  Forget that stuff for a few minutes.  Forget those points as ends, and let’s look at this text and work our way through it.  Let’s turn the focus away from ourselves and put the focus squarely where it needs to be: on Jesus.

    Jesus had just fed the multitude on the hillside, and He was finally going to get some rest and recovery time to pray with His Heavenly Father.  Jesus sent His disciples across the lake while He prayed.  The disciples did exactly as Jesus commanded.  They headed out, but they faced a rough night on the lake.  The wind was against them, and they were struggling.  Here’s where things get interesting.

    Jesus walked across the lake and came upon them during the early morning hours.  Now, for those of you who are skeptical about the laws of physics being broken, I want to point out two things.  First off, do some reading about quantum physics and try to understand that there are no set laws which govern every situation anymore.  Science works in terms of probability–not certainty.  It is highly improbable that anyone can walk on water, but it is not impossible.  Secondly, as C.S. Lewis would point out, if you are interested in Christianity, it’s important to work backward.  Start with the resurrection and then work backward.  I will be happy to point out why I believe the resurrection is an actual, historical event where Jesus truly was raised from the dead, but now is not the time for that.  What can be said is this: if God can raise Jesus from the dead, then it is certainly possible for Jesus to walk on water.  Which is exactly what the story says He does as He comes to the disciples.

    As we would expect, the disciples are scared out of their wits.  They are not idiots.  They are familiar enough with the way the world works to know that no normal human being can walk on water in the middle of great wind and waves.  They believe it is a ghost coming toward them, and when confronted with the paranormal, they cry out in fear.  Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same if a ghost suddenly appeared right here this morning!  (Ooh, that reminds me of a joke...)  The disciples are trembling in that little boat not sure of what to expect.

    And Jesus speaks words of reassurance.  “Take heart, have courage, it is me.”

    In the midst of their fear, Jesus offers words of assurance.  He offers words of comfort.  He offers words of calm.  Think about this for a moment as you reflect upon those times in your life when you have been fearful; when you have trembled at the thought of something you are facing; when you are uncertain or facing trials.  How often have you heard the voice of Jesus, through the words of the Bible or through someone else tell you, “Take heart.  Be courageous.  I am here.”  How often, in the midst of such things, does Jesus still remind us He is with us?  Quite often, I believe.  Quite often.  Jesus continually offers us words of comfort in the midst of our storms. 

    However, how many of us are actually calmed by those words?  Be honest.  How many of you when you hear, “Everything is going to be okay.  Jesus is with you,” immediately take a deep breath, lose all your fear, and find yourself at peace?  I’m not seeing many hands, and if your hand is up, I’m tempted to call you out on that because the reality is hardly any of us lose our fear.  Hardly any of us are totally at peace.  I’m pointing the finger at myself here as well.  I mean, classic example, when Dawna was pregnant with Kevin six years ago, outside I seemed pretty normal, but inside, I was a nervous wreck.  I knew of all the things that could go wrong with a pregnancy, and I was worried about all of them.  I gained quite a bit of weight during that time because of nervous eating.  Did I know Jesus was with me?  Sure.  Did I know the pregnancy was an absolute gift from God?  Yep to that one too.  Did it stop me from being fearful?  Not a chance.  It was there.  It’s there for most of us.

    Perhaps, just perhaps this is why Peter says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to walk toward you.”  Now, Peter isn’t a fool.  Peter knows very well the rabbinical tradition of early Judaism.  Peter knows that a rabbi expects his students to imitate him, and Peter is throwing out a perfectly good challenge to Jesus.  Peter is asking for a sign.  We are not all that different.  I mean, how many of us when we think we understand what we are supposed to do say, “O.K., Lord, if you really want me to do this, give me a sign.  Show me in some sort of way that this is the right thing for me.”  When I was in the midst of discerning whether or not to come to Cat Spring years ago, I did exactly this. I was like, “O.K. God, if this is where you need me to be, I’ve got to have a fenced in yard on that parsonage.  Will the folks do it?”  Y’all did.  “O.K. God, if this is where you want me to be, I need to make at least this much money.”  That’s what it was.  And it all kept falling into place.  Each time I tested the Lord, He gave me the sign.  Through it, I was reassured.  Perhaps this is exactly why Peter speaks up.  He needs that reassurance.  Jesus says, “Come.”

    Now, here is where things get interesting because Peter steps out of the boat.  By all indications, he is actually able to walk on the water for several steps.  But then things go haywire.  With the wind and the waves making their presence known, Peter starts to sink.

    How many times does this happen to us?  I mean, really.  If you claim to follow Jesus, how many times have you heard His commands and tried to follow it?  How many times have you ventured out and found some success?  How many times have you said, “Well, this following Jesus stuff is okay. I can manage it.”?  Only after a few steps you suddenly find yourself overwhelmed? 

•    Oh, I know I am supposed to love my neighbor, but he is spreading rumors about me.

•    Oh, I know I am supposed to give to everyone who begs, but they are taking advantage of my good nature.

•    Oh, I know I am supposed to stop looking at another person with lust, but that woman is very attractive.

•    Oh, I know I am supposed to love God more than money, but I keep thinking about all the stuff I can now buy.

And it continues.  If we are honest with ourselves, we know that even though Jesus commands it, we know we will not be able to fully follow it.  We know we fall short of doing what Jesus wants us to do.  And when we truly confront this about ourselves, the words of that old Gospel Hymn hit us right where we live:
I was sinking deep in sin, far from that peaceful shore
Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more

    Yes.  If we had to follow Jesus commands, we couldn’t do it.  We can’t do it.  If we are supposed to get out of the boat, we will sink.  If we try to do what Jesus tells us to do and work out our own salvation, we will flounder.  The wind and the waves are too great.  But it’s not about us.  That’s the good news.  It’s not about us.  It’s about Jesus.  Let me finish off the words to that hymn: Love Lifted Me:
But the Master of the sea, heard my despairing cry
From the waters lifted me, now safe, safe am I

    You see, it’s all about Jesus.  It’s all about Him and what He does.  When I am terrified, He offers His voice of calm.  When I don’t heed that voice and I try to make it on my own; when I try to follow His commands and I flounder knowing I cannot accomplish them, Jesus reaches out to me and pulls me up.

    And this incident with Peter and the disciples on that boat is just a foretaste of the ultimate saving power of Jesus Christ.  Jesus lifting Peter out of the water is just a foretaste of the time when Jesus would face the ultimate storm; face the ultimate time of despair; face the ultimate penalty for sin so that He could lift the world out of darkness and despair and bring them to safety.

            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 that the world may be saved through Him.

    On the cross, Jesus faced the separation from God that we deserved.  On the cross, Jesus faced that ultimate storm brought about by our failure to do what God called us to do.  On the cross, Jesus said, “You can’t be completely courageous; you can’t completely follow my commands.  If you venture out onto the water, you will sink.  You cannot save yourself, so I will save you.  I will put you back in the boat.  I will reconcile you unto my Father.  You are a failure, but by my actions, you are accepted.”

    You see, it’s all about Jesus.  It’s all about His actions.  We are constantly afraid.  We are constantly trying to test God and justify ourselves.  We are constantly sinking, and Jesus is constantly reaching out, lifting us up, and reassuring us.  He is constantly telling us, “Stop trying to justify yourself.  Stop trying to find your assurance in what people say about you or your accomplishments.  I’ve already taken care of it all.  You might never accomplish much in the eyes of the world, but because of what I have done, you are on good terms with your Heavenly Father.  We love you.  Do not doubt this.  Trust it.  Trust it with your entire being.  And you will know peace in the midst of the storm.”  Amen.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Russell Brand, Robin Williams, and the Gospel

I was not going to comment about Robin Williams' suicide.  Many have, and I have nothing to add to their commentary.  Much of what has been shown to me on my Facebook feed has been relatively well thought out, but none of it truly made me think deeply.

Leave it to the Drudge Report to link an article in The Guardian written by Russell Brand.  This article truly drew me in and made me wrestle because it links Williams' death with some of the big questions in life.

I didn't know much about Brand until I read his Wikipedia page--assuming Wikipedia is reliable here.  I found out he and Williams shared much in common.  Both are/were very much tortured souls.  Both, I think, struggle/d with some very tough questions regarding life.  From the article:

It seems that Robin Williams could not find a context. Is that what drug use is? An attempt to anaesthetise against a reality that constantly knocks against your nerves, like tinfoil on an old school filling, the pang an urgent message to a dormant, truer you.

Is it melancholy to think that a world that Robin Williams can’t live in must be broken? To tie this sad event to the overarching misery of our times? No academic would co-sign a theory in which the tumult of our fractured and unhappy planet is causing the inherently hilarious to end their lives, though I did read that suicide among the middle-aged increased inexplicably in 1999 and has been rising ever since. Is it a condition of our era?

...


What platitudes then can we fling along with the listless, insufficient wreaths at the stillness that was once so animated and wired, the silence where the laughter was? That fame and accolades are no defence against mental illness and addiction? That we live in a world that has become so negligent of human values that our brightest lights are extinguishing themselves? That we must be more vigilant, more aware, more grateful, more mindful? That we can’t tarnish this tiny slice of awareness that we share on this sphere amidst the infinite blackness with conflict and hate?

That we must reach inward and outward to the light that is inside all of us? That all around us people are suffering behind masks less interesting than the one Robin Williams wore? Do you have time to tune in to Fox News, to cement your angry views to calcify the certain misery?

What I might do is watch Mrs Doubtfire. Or Dead Poets Society or Good Will Hunting and I might be nice to people, mindful today how fragile we all are, how delicate we are, even when fizzing with divine madness that seems like it will never expire.
I found an echo of this thinking in his stand up show "God Complex" (warning: raunchy and quite blasphemous) when Brand said the following:

Why are they doing this to us?  Why are they positioning our heroes in these meaningless landscapes?  Why are they creating a cultural malaise in which nothing has nutrition; where our food lacks nutrition; where there's an emptiness in my stomach that can't be filled by drugs or fame or money?  Who is it that benefits from this system?  Who benefits from us having a void within ourselves that can never be filled?  Who is it that claims they can fill this void?

It is quite intriguing that Brand answers such questions in three ways: two in his article and one in his show.  1. Escaping by watching movies which have messages.  To enter stories.  2. To be nice to people mindful of our fragility and delicate nature.  3. Worshiping sexuality.

Unfortunately, none of these things satisfy.  None of them.  Show me one person who has had their hunger filled by entering into story after story after story and/or watching movie after movie after movie.

Show me one person who has become satisfied with being nice to people.

Show me one person who has become satisfied with having as many sexual encounters as possible.

They do not exist.  None of these things brings satisfaction, and they all lead to hopelessness.  There is always another story; another person who needs to receive some niceness; another encounter to be had.  There is always a desire which finds temporary fulfillment, but defies satisfaction.  If you place your self-worth in such things, you will only find disappointment.

But such things are the default setting for humankind.  These are the things we automatically search for.  Brand asks who benefits from this system?  (I'd not call it a system; I'd call it our selfish-nature.)  We all do.  We all seek our own benefit.  We all seek our own will to power as Nietzsche called it.  Our selfish gene dominates as Richard Dawkins would say.  And our selfish gene does not become satisfied.  Our will to power is never quenched.  And if that will to power is threatened; if our selfish gene becomes thwarted as our false idols crumble, what happens?

Despair.
Anger.
Frustration.
Hopelessness.
Escapism.
Depression.

What can bring satisfaction?  What can lead us away from the desires for our own will to power?  What can pound the selfish gene into submission so that it cannot dominate others or be easily exploited?

Only the Gospel.
Only God's action through Jesus Christ.

I have gone through this train of thought numerous times in this blog and in my more recent sermons.  I never realized just how the Gospel truly is the hope of humanity as I was caught up in my own will to power; my own selfishness.  I know I was on the path to despair and even hit a bit of depression.  The Gospel changed all that.

I know Robin Williams was a Christian, but I don't know if he grasped the power of the Gospel.  In his comedic routines, I'm not sure he did.  I think he saw Christianity as a set of rules and regulations.  I think Russell Brand does too.  In my estimation, this isn't good.  It shows a failure on the part of the Church to articulate what God has already done.  It shows the Church has been more concerned with advice instead of proclamation.

That proclamation brings lasting change and satisfaction.  It brings hope and peace and joy.

These are things much needed by the world.  Williams and Brand show us that unequivocally.

Monday, June 2, 2014

Not As the World Gives: Sermon on John 14:15-21

(Note: I did not post this sermon last week because I ended up changing the last portion of the sermon drastically on Sunday morning.  What was written was not exactly what was proclaimed.  The sentiment is basically the same, but how one arrived at the final destination was quite different.  A member requested that I post the sermon, and I will do so with the above disclaimer.)

    Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

    I’d like to take some time to unpack this statement this morning, because in all reality, I think many folks’ hearts are troubled.  Many folks are afraid.  I mean, I know Sean Hannity oftentimes tells his listeners, “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” but then he goes on and on and on about why your hearts should be troubled and you should be afraid, particularly of one political party.  And of course, those on the other side of the aisle point the fingers right back and say, “Actually, you need to be afraid of them!” They are the ones causing all the problems.”  I’d better stop there before I offend too many other folks.  While this saying of Jesus I think speaks to such matters, there’s a lot of groundwork that needs to be laid before we go too far down this rabbit hole.

    So, therefore, let’s begin with Jesus.  “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives.”  Let’s start by wrestling with this, “What does Jesus mean by giving not as the world gives?”  To grasp this, I think we need to try and see how the world gives.  And to do this, I’d like to read a few snippets from C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  The scene I will read from is about one of the characters named Edmund who has an encounter with the White Witch.  I think you will see its relevance.

    “It is dull, Son of Adam, to drink without eating,” said the Queen presently.  “What would you like best to eat?”
 

    “Turkish Delight, please, your Majesty,” said Edmund.
 

    The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle onto the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with green silk ribbon, which, when opened, turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight.  Each piece was sweet and light to the very center and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious.  He was quite warm now, and very comfortable.
 

    While he was eating, the Queen kept asking him questions.  At first, Edmund tried to remember that it is rude to speak with one’s mouth full, but soon he forgot about this and thought only of trying to shovel down as much Turkish Delight as he could, and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat, and he never asked himself why the Queen should be so inquisitive.

    Let’s skip down a little bit.

    At last, the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more.  Probably the Queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves. But she did not offer him any more.  Instead, she said to him,
 

    “Son of Adam, I should so much like to see your brother and your two sisters.  Will you bring them to see me?’
 

    “I’ll try,” said Edmund, still looking at the empty box.
 

    “Because if you did come again–bringing them with you of course–I’d be able to give you some more Turkish Delight.”

    I’m going to stop reading and just brush through the highlights.  At this point, the White witch begins laying it on thick telling Edmund that if he brings his brother and sisters, she will make him a prince.  She will give him a crown and riches.  She promises him the moon and all the Turkish Delight he can eat.  Of course, if Edmund doesn’t deliver, he won’t receive this stuff or anymore Turkish Delight.  But Edmund is almost beyond thinking.  He has tasted something very sweet, and he wants more.  How badly?  A few short pages later, Edmund is reunited with his sister, Lucy, and he finds out the Queen he ran into was actually the White Witch.  He finds out she is dangerous, but what is his state of mind?

    Edmund was already feeling uncomfortable from having eaten too many sweets, and when he heard that the Lady he had made friends with was a dangerous witch he felt even more uncomfortable.  But he still wanted to taste that Turkish Delight again more than he wanted anything else.

    I want to ask you, do you see any parallels between this work of fiction and the way the world gives and what the world promises?  I hope you do.  I personally can’t help but see them vividly. 

    The world beckons to each and every one of us offering satisfaction.  The world says, “Eat of this fruit.  Taste and see that it is good.”  And it is.  I mean, let’s just take one example.  How many of you, like me, were extremely proud of your first paycheck?  I remember receiving it while working for the Banquete Grain Coop.  I had worked long hours, and the check was rather large.  I was happy.  I had tasted the fruits of my labor, and I liked it.  I liked it a lot.  Holding that check offered me promise: I could buy CDs of my favorite music.  I could take someone out on a date.  I could afford to drive my parents’ car to the places I wanted to go.  I could go to movies.  A whole new world was opening up.

    How many of us become delighted with such a thing?  And so we strive to get a better job so that we can get more of that precious commodity of money.  As we earn more, we spend more.  Our standards rise with our income.  Never satisfied, we long for more, and the world offers us more and more promise.  We stuff our faces with the Turkish Delight of such things, but we aren’t satisfied.  We always want more.

    And we oftentimes aren’t aware that there will come a day of reckoning.  There will come a time when the world sees that we are enamored with what we have, and it will use that to its advantage.  Later in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the White Witch demands Edmund’s life.  The world oftentimes demands ours.

    “How so?” you might ask.  Oh, it starts innocently enough.  “Make yourself invaluable to your company so that you have job security.”  And so we work hard–oftentimes harder than we have to.  “Can you stay a few hours late this week?  This job really needs touching up, and you are the best one we have.”  And so we stay.  “Can you work half a day on Saturday?  We really need this project completed.  Don’t worry, we will take care of you.”  The extra money rolls in, and we rejoice.  It will help us pay down a little bit of debt and perhaps go on a vacation.  But who then pays? Do children miss their parent?  Does a spouse or best friend have to cancel a date?  The corporate ladder gets climbed, status gets added, a sense of self-importance rises.  The world demands more and more.  We pay it.  Working and slaving as we see that one day retirement can take place–we will have a nest egg.  But we are never sure that it is enough.  We’re never quite peaceful about it.  There is still that nagging hunger to get more.  Finally, we are too worn out to work to get more.  We’re too tired and weak, so we stop.  We try to rest.

    But then what does the world do at that point?  Here’s what I have begun to see–the world gives, and then it does its best to take it all back.  The world robs you of your family and personal time to pad your bank account and then seeks to drain it dry leaving you penniless when you die.  Don’t believe me?

    How many of you who worked for many years find medical bills eating up your income?  How many of you know someone who slaved for years who are now spending almost everything they have on nursing homes or home health care?  Prices of food, fuel, and shelter continue to rise.  Taxes continue to go up.  When you die, your family has to pay for funeral expenses, and then the government will come in to collect its share from those who inherit whatever you had left to pass on.  Yes, the world gives, but then it wants a whole lot in return.  It wants to dominate you and take you for all that it once gave to you.  And it never leaves you at peace.  Never.

    “My peace I leave with you.  My peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

    Jesus stands in stark contrast to how the world operates.  At first, it may not look like it.  In fact, when you first look at Jesus and look at all that He says, it is quite frightening.  The world offers the sweetness of Turkish Delight–it looks appealing; it tastes sweet, but it never satisfies.  Jesus offers death.  “Let anyone who wishes to follow me deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me.  For anyone who wishes to save their life will lose it, but those who lose their life for my sake and the sake of the Gospel will find it.” 

    These are not comforting words.  They seem a very bitter pill to swallow.  The Turkish Delights come in a pretty box; the food Jesus offers comes dressed in a cross.  “Come and die,” Jesus says.  “Die to everything the world says you should have.  Die to finding your self-worth in your job, in your bank account, in your possessions, in your race and ethnicity and all those other things the world says give you satisfaction.  Do not eat of the sweetness of the world, feast on me.”

    It sounds crazy.  Completely crazy.  It’s impossible for us to do such a thing.  Literally, it’s impossible for us to die to these things because they are our default settings.  We’ve been taught to be productive citizens.  We train our children to be good producers and consumers.  We buy into the system to the very core.  And we can’t escape it.

    So Jesus says, “You can’t live the life you are supposed to live.  You can’t die to yourself, so I will die for you!”  And He does.  On the cross, He dies and pours Himself out for the world.

    “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 to save it!”

    And we may say, “Yes, I believe this!  Yes, I believe that Jesus died for me.  I believe that Jesus is the Savior.  I believe that Jesus lived the life that I couldn’t live, but why don’t I have peace?  Why am I still so hungry for what the world gives?  Why do I still have the emptiness inside?”

    Think about the deepest desire of your heart.  What is it?  Be honest with yourself.  What does your heart dream about?  Safety?  Security?  To be admired?  I told you before, mine was to be seen as a great pastor and to receive recognition.  If these things are at the center of your heart, then you are simply trying to work out your own salvation.  You are simply trying to justify yourself and rely upon yourself.  You may cognitively believe that Jesus died for you, but it hasn’t sunk into the deep recesses of your heart, and that’s why you still hunger.  You are still pursuing the things of the world.

    “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Do not be afraid.”  How can we reach this point?  How can we reach the place where we are not afraid of the future or our hearts are troubled?  Not by anything we can do, but by what Christ has done.  He has already accomplished all.  He has already justified you.  He has already given you worth.  He has already prepared a place for you.  He has promised to take care of you.  It is finished.  Put your trust in Jesus, and He will pour Himself into you.  He will fill you.  He will give you peace, and unlike the world, He will never, ever try to take it away.  It’s yours forever.  Amen.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Ending Violence

It was opening devotion time at Synod Assembly.

The folks leading the devotion lifted up a study on violence which had been turned into a musical cantata.

Those of us participating in the congregation listened to the words put forth in that cantata as read by our devotion leaders.

I listened intently.

"You don't want to be hurt by anyone, so why do you hurt someone else?  Stop."

I paused upon hearing those words. 

Yes.  They make sense. 

Given an unspoken assumption.

That I am somehow not hurting already.

I remember years ago sitting in a social psychology class.  We watched a video detailing a study of pain and animals.  Two animals were placed in a cage which had been electrified.  One animal was larger than the other.  When current was applied and the animals felt the pain, the larger animal nearly always attacked the smaller animal.  When there was no pain, there was no violence.  When there was pain, violence ensued.

There was a lesson for each and every one of us in that class.

And it speaks, I think, to one of the reasons we try to avoid pain as a culture.

Keep the pain to a minimum, and you don't have acting out.  Keep the pain to a minimum, and you don't have violence.

And how do we keep the pain to a minimum in our culture:

1. The preferred drug of alcohol.
2. Material wealth and its redistribution.
3. Sex and sexuality.
4. Escapism through entertainment and sports.

There are other ways, of course, but the reality is, none of these things really and truly deal with the pain.  None of these things really and truly dig down deep into the recesses of the heart and deal with the emotional pain someone feels deep within their souls.

The recent shooting in California shows this beyond a doubt.  If you read this story, you will see how none of these things could satisfy Elliot Rogers before he went on his shooting/stabbing rampage.  He drank.  He had wealth.  He had privilege.  He desired sex and felt like he deserved it.  His family was a part of the entertainment industry.  He had it all--everything, and he was in pain; deep, pulsating pain. 

Given that Elliot was a young male (which is one of those "curious" common threads which run through just about every school shooting and mass murder), his brain was not fully developed, he was in emotional turmoil, he had access to firearms which made him feel like an alpha male (feel like, not that he was), it was just a matter of time before things finally erupted.

Everything that would supposedly dull the pain didn't work, and simply saying "You don't want to be hurt by anyone, so why do you hurt someone else?" wasn't going to work.

Because Elliot was already hurting.

A lot of people are already hurting.

Sure, they may put on a good front, but deep down, underneath the surface, nearly everyone has pain, hurt, resentment, agony, sadness, fear, loathing, contempt, frustration, and the list goes on.  Everyone has a piece of darkness within where the light does not shine.  Sometimes that darkness grows and grows and grows until it becomes all consuming. 

And we throw money at it.
And we throw drugs at it.
And we throw sex at it.
And we throw self-help books at it.

And nothing works.

Nothing.

And those of us who wish to offer a faith-based solution are scoffed at by many. 

Perhaps with good reason.  I mean, there are those who become so consumed with their respective faiths that they fly airplanes into buildings, kill abortion doctors, mock, beat and kill homosexuals, act with supreme arrogance, and are generally unpleasant people.  Such folks do not help in the cause of ending violence as they actually perpetuate it.  (I believe it is because they do not have God at the center of their hearts, but instead are pretty self-righteous.  Their fundamentals are out of whack.  I mean, no one has ever seen an Amish terrorist.)

The Gospel is sorely needed.

Whenever we think we deserve something, and we do not get what we think we deserve, we become angry, frustrated, and full of pain.  Whenever we feel like we have been wronged, we become resentful.  Whenever we feel thwarted by someone else, anger begins to build.  It tends to be the other person's fault. 

The Gospel does not allow you to do this.  The Gospel says, "You may have been wronged.  You may have been hurt, but you are not without guile yourself.  You have fallen short as well.  You have no basis to think that you are morally superior over another.  You have no basis to think that you deserve any particular good over and above anyone else.  You are just as corrupt as the person you believe has wronged you."

It's not a popular message amongst some.
Most of us like to think we have the moral high road.
Jesus doesn't allow us to take that.

If we were left at this point, we would all be miserable.  We would all be in pain and agony knowing our imperfections; knowing our fallenness; knowing our brokenness.  We would continue to act out in pain and frustration.

But then Jesus says, "Let me take that away from you.  Let me show you how much you are loved even in your brokenness.  Let me show you how far I am willing to go to forgive you when you continue to act in an unforgivable manner."

And Jesus stretches out His arms to die for you.

And He says, "I am pouring myself out for you, and if you put me at the center of your life, I will pour myself into you.  I will fill the void in your heart.  I will take the pain and frustration.  I will help you know forgiveness so that you may forgive others.  And I will give you hope."

And Jesus was raised from the dead ushering in eternal life for all who trust in Him.

That hope means a state of fulfillment for eternity.  The things you thought you missed will be granted you in their fullness in the healthiest manner possible.  You do not have to try and squeeze in every sight and sound because "you only get this one life."  You have an eternity before you.  An eternity filled with light and goodness and love--with God at the center wiping every tear from your eye.

And that reality--that sense of eternity--is not limited to when you die.  You can have one foot there now.  You can be in this world but not of it.  You can experience what it is like to worship God who is at the center of the throne now.  You can know His peace now.  You can know His love now.  You can have Him wiping your tears now.

People will still hurt you.
People will still mock you.
People will still do you wrong.
And you will still do this to others, but you do not have to experience the fullness of the anger.  You do not have to experience the fullness of the pain.  You can forgive because He forgave you.

And when you forgive, the pain lessens.
And you know peace.
And when you know peace, you seek to spread it instead of violence.
All because of the Gospel.

Monday, May 12, 2014

If Only We Could be Like That...: Sermon on Acts 2:42-47

    I’ve used the following story as an illustration before, and it still hits home with me.  It’s a story that a respected Christian author and speaker, Tony Campolo tells about a man named Joe.

    Joe was a drunk who was miraculously converted at a Bowery mission.  Prior to his conversion, he had gained the reputation of being a dirty wino for whom there was no hope, only a miserable existence in the ghetto.  But following his conversion to a new life with God, everything changed.  Joe became the most caring person that anyone associated with the mission had ever known.  Joe spent his days and nights hanging out at the mission, doing whatever needed to be done.  There was never anything that he was asked to do that he considered beneath him.  Whether it was cleaning up the vomit left by some violently sick alcoholic or scrubbing toilets after careless men had left the men’s room filthy, Joe did what was asked with a smile on his face and a seeming gratitude for the chance to help.  He could be counted on to feed feeble men who wandered off the street and into the mission, and to undress and tuck into bed men who were too out of it to take care of themselves.

    One evening, when the director of the mission was delivering his evening evangelistic message to the usual crowd of still and sullen men with drooped heads, there was one man who looked up, came down the aisle to the altar, and knelt to pray, crying out for God to help him change.  The repentant drunk kept shouting, “Make me like Joe!  Make me like Joe!  Make me like Joe!”

    The director of the mission leaned over and said to the man, “Son, I think it would be better if you prayed, ‘Make me like Jesus.’”

    The man looked up at the director with a quizzical expression on his face and asked, “Is he like Joe?”

    I believe every time I’ve told this story, I’ve held up Joe as an example of what it means to live the Christian life.  I believe I have encouraged each and every one of us to “be like Joe.”  I believe I have focused all my efforts in telling you how you should live your life–because if you live your life like this, then others will notice how you live and become a Christian and become a part of our church.  We will grow and become important, and we will shine like a beacon of light in a dark world.

    This sounds great on the surface.  It really does.  I mean, for fourteen years, I’ve preached it.  It’s difficult to admit that I was a bit wrongheaded in how I approached such matters. 

    Now, don’t get me wrong.  I believe there is a standard of Christian living into which we are called to live.  I believe that doing good things and living a life of service is a worthy task, but sometimes, our motivations get all out of whack.  What do I mean by that?

    Think about this question for just a moment: why do you do many of the things that you do?  What drives you to act in a particular fashion?  Work at a particular job?  Buy a particular item?  Travel to a particular destination?  Why do we do the things that we do?

    Usually, and I am painting with a large brush stroke, we do the things we do because of what we get in return.  I volunteer at a local charity because it makes me feel good to help other people.  I buy a particular car because I enjoy driving it.  I work at a particular job either because I love doing it or because I get paid a lot of money and feel happy chasing down a particular social status in living.  I travel to a particular destination because I feel relaxed and happy when I am there.  I hang out with a group of people because I like those people, how they make me feel about myself.  These are usually our motivations.  Of course, that does change from time to time.  I mean, there are times when we engage in activities that we don’t really like to do.  There are times when we go to various functions, not because we want to be there, but because we feel a sense of obligation in being there.  I may not want to make an appearance at the local fundraiser, but I know there will be a lot of important people there, and if I am not there, then I risk being seen as uncaring; unappreciative; or anti-social.  That’s just one example, but there are others that could be listed which are similar.  So, let’s look at this again, we do the things we do because we either get something out of it–some sort of satisfaction, or we feel obligated to do them because of some sort of external pressure.  We either feel good about it or get some sort of recognition by those outside of ourselves. 

    You might ask, “Well, what’s the problem with such matters?  Why is this such a big deal.  I’m finding things that make me happy.  I’m working to influence others.  Is this such a bad thing?”

    Well, maybe not at first.  I mean, there are times when we feel greatly satisfied by such things.  There are times when we are truly happy and excited.  There are times when we feel appreciated and recognized.  But the real question is: what happens when that happiness fades?  What happens when that recognition fades or begins to be put on something or someone else?   What do you do then?

    You see, when we try to find satisfaction in the things that make us feel good or in how others see us, we are bound to eventually become unsatisfied.  We will eventually become jealous.  We will become hungrier and hungrier for more good things and more recognition.  Sooner or later, we will begin saying things like, “If I only had a better paying job.  If only I could be as popular as that guy.  If only I were as good looking as that woman.  If only I could travel more.  If only I could find more time to get away.  If only I could find a moment of peace and rest.  If only I could be like Joe.  If only...If only...If only...”

    Let’s break from this train of thought just a moment so that I can show you how oftentimes even in the church, we get caught up in this kind of idea.  In our first lesson from the book of Acts, the writer, Luke, shows us some of what the earliest disciples did.  He shows us how they gathered together to study, listen to the apostles’ teaching, to hang out and talk about life, to break bread–eat together, worship together, and pray.  The new life they had in Christ also manifested itself in how they treated possessions.  They sold everything they had and distributed the proceeds to anyone who had need.  Their lives revolved around God, and they had generous hearts, generous lives, and they helped out anyone who had a need.  We are told that people were in awe of this.

    Folks in the church today look at this passage and have a tendency to say, “If only we were like that.  If only we were like that early church which gave away everything, took care of those in need, worshiped, prayed, ate together, engaged in fellowship; and devoted ourselves to Bible study, then our church buildings would be full.  We would truly make an impact in society.  We would see tons of visitors, and they would be impressed with what we were doing.  They would be in awe, and they would join us.  They would see our works and want to be like us.  If only...If only...If only...If only I could be like Joe.  If only we could all be like Joe.

    That last sentence of our lesson this morning is rather intriguing, I think.  Day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.  Who was adding to their number?  Who was bringing people to salvation?  Was it because of the works of the disciples that people were being saved?  Or was it the work of the Lord?  Who brought people to faith: the disciples, or the Lord?  Of course, it was the Lord.  Folks might have been in awe of what the disciples were doing, but it was the Lord who brought about salvation.  It was the Lord who added numbers to the growing church.  And it is the Lord who brings such salvation to you and I as well.  It wasn’t about the “if onlys.”   It’s never about the “if onlys.” 

    Look, whenever we get caught up in those if onlys, we are simply trying to justify ourselves.  We are trying to find our worth, our happiness, our satisfaction, our joy in the things that we do.  And we can never do enough.  We can never buy enough things to fully satisfy our desires.  We can never make enough money to fully satisfy our desires.  We can never travel enough or have a good enough job.  We can never impress others enough because sooner or later someone else will show up who will gain their attention and draw them away from us.  No matter how hard you work at it; no matter how much time, energy and effort you put toward it, you will never find yourself being fully satisfied by your efforts to justify your worth or your existence.  It won’t happen.  Some of you may know this already.  Some of you may be sensing it deep down.  Some of you know that no matter how hard you try, someone else always seems to be better than you; wealthier than you; prettier or more handsome than you; have a better house; a seeming perfect life; happier than you.  And the more you compare yourself to them, the more miserable you become.

    And the solution isn’t to try harder.  That’s the one many of us fall into. I certainly did.  Try harder.  Try to be nicer.  Try to be more enthusiastic in what you are doing.  Surely I will make a difference.  Surely others will notice!  Surely I can be like Joe and others will want to be like me–they will notice me! 

    What if I told you you no longer had to worry about justifying yourself?  What if I told you you no longer had to try to get your self-worth from anyone else?  What if I told you you didn’t have to do anything to find satisfaction or happiness or joy?  What if I told you that such things are beyond your reach, but instead have already been provided for you? 

    You might think I am nuts, but then again, after you work and work and work and find no peace, perhaps you might consider what I am about to say.  You see, you can’t be like Joe and you can’t be like those early disciples through your own efforts.  You can’t make anyone be like Joe or those early disciples through any sort of coercion or argumentation.  You can’t change your ways and make yourself more peaceful and content.  It’s too hard.  It’s darn near impossible.

    But there is one who can.  There is one who can enter into the recesses of your very heart to give you a sense of well being and worth.  There is one who can give you a sense of justification and joy–not because of what you have done but because of what He has done.

    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.

    Christ died for you and loves you despite the fact that you are broken–that you can’t be perfect–that you can’t be like Joe–or those early disciples–or anyone else for that matter.  Christ died for you and loves you so that you don’t have to worry about the if onlys.  Christ died for you and loves you beyond compare.  Hear that message and let it sink in.  Really, let it sink in and contemplate it.  It will change you.  It might even make you like Joe.  Amen.