Truly Satisfied

    How many of you made New Year’s resolutions this year?  How many of you have already broken them?  How many of you didn’t even bother making New Year’s resolutions figuring you would break them anyway?  Yeah, I’m guilty of that last one.

    Among the many things I find fascinating about the human condition is that we seem to be caught in this tug of war–a tug of war between forces which try to tell us “you are perfect just the way you are” and forces which tell us “you will never be happy or satisfied until you change and do this.”  Perhaps you have not noticed this trend in our society and culture, but I assure you, it is there.

    I mean, you don’t have to go very far to hear voices saying things like, “I don’t have to change anything about myself.  I’m fine just as I am.”  Or “You don’t have the right to tell me what to do, I can do whatever I want as long as I’m not hurting anyone.”  If you scroll through the news feeds any given week, you will see at least a story or two about accepting all sorts of body types; accepting people no matter what color they are; accepting people no matter their religion; or accepting people no matter their sexual orientation.  These things are front and center, a lot.

    And yet...even though this is being articulated over and over and over, we are also constantly bombarded with advertisements and even stories which tell us the exact opposite.  I mean for every story on accepting your body type, you probably see two or three stories about appropriate diets; what foods will get you a flat belly; what exercises will tone all your muscles.  For every story you read about how women are beautiful just the way they are, there are more than enough ads out there trying to sell make up and other items to cover up flaws.  Men are challenged to be rugged, handsome, and well cut while at the same time being caring, compassionate, and “in touch with their feminine side.”  And we can’t seem to escape this.  We cannot seem to get out of this back and forth, back and forth reality of folks telling us we are okay and fine; and then other voices telling us we need to improve ourselves and get better.  It can be maddening.

    Those of you who remember Mark Chapman remember that he was a poet, and in one of his books of poetry, he wrote this poem entitled Dis-satisfaction

Take a look–I’ve got it all
A great wife, health
Bank account that’s not small
Yet what is that sporadic, niggling burr
that nestles underneath my saddle?
Is it the ebbing of the physical
or a flaw in my gear box?
Maybe nature’s perverse trick to ruffle my feathers
Or one last long squall before the water calms.
I wrestle with this wisp of unease
It pins me more than not
A twinge of craziness asks
Am I a gerbil on a treadmill?
A captive in a cosmic joke?
A malcontent without a cause?
Is my chain being yanked because I care?
Maybe it is a plague of self absorption?
Blind faith would–could–be a lifeline
But for whatever reason no solace there.
Is the question unanswerable?
A maddening changing of the guard
Truth unacceptable
An accelerating slide down a slope
To a place I don’t want to go.
    What was Mark saying in that poem?  I think, he was saying that despite all the things in his life that he had; despite having wealth and love and possessions; despite living the American dream, there was still something nagging at him.  There was still something causing him discomfort.  There was still something eating at him which could not find satisfaction.

    I think all of us know this feeling.  I think all of us have that gnawing deep in our core–for despite all we have and every time we’ve been told that we are fine just the way we are, we don’t believe it.  We don’t think we have achieved any sort of perfection.  There is still something within us that desires transformation, but we don’t often know what that transformation is.  “Blind faith would–could–be a lifeline, but for whatever reason, no solace there.”

      Here we enter an interesting twist in Mark’s poem, and in the world around us.  For we in the church proclaim a path to deal with such dissatisfaction.  We in the church proclaim a path to solve this back and forth bouncing between feeling fine about ourselves and yet knowing there is something missing.  We in the church believe we have that answer, and I would argue it’s not blind.  It’s tangible, but I will get there in a minute.

    First, I would like to say what the answer is not.  The answer is not come and see what our church is doing.  The answer is not come and see how well our pastor preaches.  The answer is not come and see all of our programs that we have for youth.  The answer is not come and see how good a people we are.  The answer is not come and see all the good things we do.  The answer is not come and see us.

    That might sound strange to your ears–especially since I have been known in my previous years to tell you that we should be doing all sorts of things, and that when people see us doing good things, they will want to do those things too, and then they will join the church.  (How’s that for a run-on sentence!!!)  Yes, I have said such things in the past, but I was wrong.  People do not have life changing experiences–experiences which literally transform a person inwardly and outwardly by coming in contact with a church.  They only have such transformational experiences when coming in contact with Jesus.

    I mean, take a look at our Gospel lesson today from John.  It’s the story of how Jesus began assembling His group of disciples.  Jesus finds Philip and says, “Follow me.”  This is all we have regarding the encounter, but it must have had quite the effect on Philip.  Whatever transpired between Philip and Jesus, it was enough to cause Philip to rush to Nathanael and say, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  Think about that.  From a simple encounter where Jesus says, “Follow me,” Philip rushes to Nathanael with words about Jesus being the Messiah!  Something deep happened to Philip.  Something very deep indeed.

    And what is Nathanael’s reaction to Philip?  How does Nathanael respond to this change in Philip?  Does he say, “Wow, Philip. I can see that your life has been transformed. I can see that God has done something to you, and my meeting with you has changed my life.  I want to follow Jesus so that I can have the same transformation as you.”?  Was this Nathanael’s reaction?  No.  Not in the least.  Natahanael is skeptical.  Nathanael doesn’t believe Philip.  “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

    Philip responds with the only thing he can, “Come and see.”  Come and see what though?  Well, the answer is obvious.  Come and see Jesus!  The invitation Philip ends up giving is not, “Come and see me.”  The invitation is to come and see Jesus!

    Ah, now, only now, can we see the potential for transformation.  Only now can Nathanael’s skepticism be met.  Nathanael actually does go.  He actually has an encounter with Jesus, and what happens?  What happens when Nathanael comes in contact with the Messiah?  Well, his life is changed.  He comes to believe.  He becomes a disciple.  Philip pointed the way, but Jesus brought about the transformation.  Jesus brought Nathanael to belief. 

    This is important to realize–very important because you and I will never transform anyone.  You and I will never be able to help anyone overcome their dissatisfaction.  You and I will never be able to solve the dilemma of being caught between the forces which tell us we are okay and we need to change.  It is only Jesus who can solve that problem. 

    And how does He do that?  How does He transform us and bring us to a place of satisfaction?  Here is how: by loving us while we are sinners.  By dying for us when we are broken. 

    You see, when we accept that we are sinful, that we are broken, then we know we need to change.  We know that we need to be transformed.  And hopefully, we discover that no amount of material possessions, money, sex, food, clothing, or activities can bring about that transformation.  Many of you know this.  Mark articulated this brilliantly in his poem.  These things will not bring about the deep change necessary.  There will always be that nagging piece deep within that says, “I’m not there yet.  These things haven’t really changed my character.  I am still deeply flawed.”

    But when you encounter Jesus with this frame of heart, something changes within you.  When you have an encounter with Jesus and He looks deep within your heart and He sees your flaws; He sees you as you are, and He still embraces you and loves you, you can’t help but marvel at His love and compassion.  You can’t help but be deeply affected because you know that He is the Messiah.  He is what we should be.  He is what we were made to be before our selfish nature took over.  And He was willing to offer himself in our place to die the death we deserved.  It’s like the child who was caught and knows he’s in trouble.  Who knows he’s done wrong.  Who knows he’s disappointed his parents to no end.  Whose shame is tangible and who expects to receive punishment but instead receives forgiveness along with the words, “You have done wrong, but we will love you because you are our child.”  At that moment, nothing else matters.  Nothing else will ever bring that kind of satisfaction.  You are loved in the midst of your brokenness, and you need nothing else.

    I remember vividly the Sunday before Mark suffered his stroke.  When I asked for prayer requests, he said, “That we may come to understand what you are preaching.”  I hope and pray that I am preaching Jesus.  For it is He who we must point to.  It is He whom we invite people to come and see.  It is He who transforms us and all those whom He comes to.  It is He who came for the sake of the world to bring us such satisfaction.

    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.  Amen.

Pointing to Jesus

   Many moons ago, I sat down with a church call committee.  In the midst of our visitation, I asked them, “What makes your church different than any other organization that seeks to help people?  What makes you different than the Salvation Army, or the Rotary Club, or the Knights of Columbus?  What sets you apart from all of these other groups that get together and do good things?”

    There was silence around the table.  No one had an answer. 

    Now, perhaps you do.  Perhaps you know what sets a church apart from those other service organizations, but I don’t want you chiming in just yet.  I mean, if you did, this sermon would practically be over and done with, and I don’t want folks to be disappointed with such a short sermon. :-) So, I want to take some time and think through this for a few moments.  I want us to think about what might truly set us apart from other service organizations and why folks should consider joining a church as well as supporting service organizations.

    And we will start in perhaps an interesting place–with the church’s shortcomings.  Some folks might get a bit twitchy about this, and I understand.  Usually, you want to talk about your strengths and minimize your weaknesses, but things work a little differently in the Christian faith.  You might have figured that out a bit.  In fact, St. Paul says this in 2 Corinthians chapter 12, “...But on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. [For] He (God) said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”  Think about that for a few.  It is a very interesting statement that Paul makes essentially saying that we Christians aren’t called to hide our weaknesses.  We are to put them forward for a very particular reason–a reason I will talk about in a little while.

    So, let’s talk about some of those shortcomings.  Let’s begin with the economic shortfall.  I mean, some of you are aware of those websites that rank charities.  They base their judgements on how much money is actually spent on charitable functions and then how much goes toward overhead, maintenance, and salaries.  The more money you spend on ministry, the higher your rank.  Guess where most churches and congregations would actually fall?  I mean, look at our own budget as a congregation.  Yes, we do quite a bit through our community care fund and extra giving campaigns during the year, but what percentage of our budget goes to ministries outside of ourselves?  What percentage is not spent on salaries, building maintenance, and supplies?  Being generous, less than 10% of our budget is designated to be given away outside of ourselves.  Where do you think that would rank on those charity websites?  We definitely would not be getting five stars.  In fact, there are many, many more charitable organizations that serve more people and have less overhead than the church.  One could argue they do a much better job of it too especially in weeding out those who try to take advantage of the system.  We are nowhere near the top when it comes to helping others.

    Second shortcoming–we don’t do very well relationally either.  I mean, there is nothing to distinguish us from any other social club where people have disagreements; where people get angry with one another; where people refuse to attend meetings because they don’t like what someone said or did; where people ignore each other; where people are content to stay within their own little group and refuse to seek out someone who is a stranger; where people have a difficult time welcoming new ideas and new thoughts–especially if that new person sat in my spot in my pew!   In fact, there are many congregations where such things are worse than in other social and charitable organizations!!!   Congregations are usually very, very tough places for an outsider to break into–even though we say we follow Jesus who tells us clearly to “Love one another for by this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  Congregations are oftentimes very tough places to find people who forgive one another.  We allow squabbles and misunderstandings to fester and cause strife time and again. 

    Third shortcoming–we tend to hold our leaders to rigorous standards and expect them to be perfect because they “work for God”, but when they comment on our sinfulness, we are quick to say, “Who are they to tell us what is wrong.  They put their pants on just like we do.”  And those of us who are leaders oftentimes enjoy our elevated status until we realize we are broken and cannot live up to others’ expectations.  And we then wonder why folks get angry with us when we try to let our hair down.  In a word, I guess this shortcoming can be wrapped up in the words pride and hypocrisy.  Too many times, we embody these words.  It is quite unfortunate.

    I could keep going with more shortcomings, but I won’t.  I won’t because sermons aren’t meant for bashing what is wrong with the church and the world.  Sermons aren’t meant for pointing fingers and spreading guilt.  Sermons have a very different purpose–just like the church has a very different purpose.  They each have a purpose which is embodied in the main figure of our Gospel lesson this morning: John the Baptist.

    Hear once again what the Gospel writer John says about this figure of faith, “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.”

    Let’s stop right here.  It shouldn’t be too hard to see what John the Baptist’s purpose was.  John came to testify to Jesus.  John came to point the way to Jesus.  John was here not for John’s sake but for Jesus’ sake.  The next few verses make this abundantly clear.

    This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and
Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ 20He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, ‘I am not the Messiah.’ 21And they asked him, ‘What then? Are you Elijah?’ He said, ‘I am not.’ ‘Are you the prophet?’ He answered, ‘No.’ 22Then they said to him, ‘Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’ 23He said, ‘I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the Lord” ’, as the prophet Isaiah said.  24 Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. 25They asked him, ‘Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?’ 26John answered them, ‘I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, 27the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.’

    It’s important to realize at this juncture just how influential John was at the time.  For nearly 400 years, the Jewish people had waited for God to speak.  For the past 400 years the people of Israel hadn’t seen a prophet and were mystified by God’s silence.  Suddenly, John the Baptist appeared in what we might consider the armpit of the Judean countryside.  He wasn’t preaching and teaching in the cities and towns; he was way out in the middle of nowhere, and people flocked to hear him preach.  They recognized that something was going on here.  They recognized that John met all the criteria of a prophet in his word, deed and power.  God was finally speaking!!  And of course, those in power wanted to check this out.  They wanted to get the scoop themselves.  They wanted to figure out just who this character was and how he was able to draw such crowds.  And they tried to pin him down.  Are you the Messiah?  In the strongest possible terms, John answers, “I am not.”  Well then are you one of the important folks of ages past?  Are you Elijah?  “No.”  Are you the Prophet Moses spoke to us about.  Again, “No.”  Well then, for heaven’s sake, who are you?

    “I am the one Isaiah speaks about.  I am the one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the pathway of the Lord.”

    The Pharisees then ask John, “Well, then why are you baptizing?  If you are not all these important people, then why are you engaging in something so important?”

    John looks at them and says something very interesting, “ I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, 27the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”

    This is an intriguing answer because it doesn’t seem to offer a compelling reason that John is baptizing.  It doesn’t seem to give the Pharisees any satisfaction.  John simply states what he is doing–baptizing with water, but then he basically says, “It’s not about me.”  It’s not about me.  It’s about the one who is standing among you who you do not know.  It’s about the one coming after me–the one I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.”  This statement would have floored those around John.  I mean, here was a man who was obviously a prophet–the first prophet that had been seen in Israel in 400 years; a prophet who was drawing people from all over the place, and this prophet says, “I am not worthy to be the slave with the lowest job on the social totem pole–the slave that is the lowest slave in the household.  I am not worthy to even be this in His presence.”

    A man of God; a prophet which Jesus later in the book of John says, “Up until this time there is none greater than John.”  Think about that.  A man who up until that time there was none greater considers himself unworthy to have the lowest job possible of untying Jesus’ sandals.  But such is John’s resolve to point to Jesus.  Such is John’s resolve to get out of the way so that the true light of the world can take center stage.

            Why?  Why would John go to such a length even though he is a prophet?  Because John’s job pales in comparison to Jesus’.  John’s job is tiny in the scope of things.  Sure, John is preparing the way for Jesus, but it is Jesus who is coming to reconcile the world unto God.  It is Jesus who is coming to be the sacrifice of atonement.  It is Jesus who is God made flesh and dwelling among humanity.  God made flesh.  The perfect God who comes down to die for His creation.  And no human is indeed worthy to untie the sandals of God.  Every human is far too broken in comparison to God.  Every human is too sinful in comparison to God’s perfection.  The best one can do is point to the perfect when one is imperfect and admit, freely confess that we fall far short.

    And it is this very thing which makes us different than any other charitable organization.  It is this that makes us very different from any social organization.  For we do not tout ourselves.  We do not point at what we do.  We do not say, “We are the best organization around.  We do tons of good for our community and people.  We get along perfectly without any problems, and we think exactly alike.  We have the best preaching and the best worship music and the best programs.”  No.  We do not do those things at all, for we know that we are not the important ones here.  For we, like John, know our imperfections.  We know we are not great.  We know we are not perfect.  We know what we do pales in comparison to what Jesus has done.  Our imperfect works are simply means by which we point to Jesus–for it is He who entered into our world to save it.

    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.

    And thus, we admit our shortcomings; we admit our imperfections; we show our brokenness, because Jesus came into the world to save broken people–people like you and me.  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.