Seeing the Truth

               At my last service at St. John of Cat Spring, I asked for prayer requests just before the prayers of the church.  One of my congregation members raised his hand and said, “I’d like to pray for Bethany Lutheran Church.”

                I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that prayer request, so I started thinking about it. And suddenly, I put two and two together.  You see, right before church, one of our youth met me in the hall as I was heading to worship, and the little tyke said, “Pastor, I hate to see you go.  I want to make sure and get your address so that I can keep up with you because when I grow up and get a job, I’m going to send you some money.

                I was touched by this child’s comment but also a bit perplexed, so I asked the little guy why he was going to send me money.  He replied just as innocently as a child can, “Because my daddy says you are the poorest preacher he’s ever seen.”  Did I mention that my congregation member wanted me to pray for Bethany Lutheran Church?

                And maybe, just maybe history will bear it out that I am the poorest preacher that some of you have ever seen.  But if I am to be the poorest preacher that you have ever seen, let it be because I was not able to help you understand complicated theological concepts.  Let it be because I was not able to provide illustrations that brought the biblical passages to life.  Let it be because I am a sinner who falls far short of what God has called him to be.  Let it be because of these things.

                But if I am the poorest preacher that you have ever seen, let it not be because I didn’t work day after day to tell you about what God has done for you through Jesus Christ.  Let it not be because I didn’t try to convey to you how much God loves you and what He was willing to do to redeem you.  Let it not be because I failed to preach the Truth.

                Perhaps at this point there are one or two of you who are scratching your head and thinking, “Wait a minute. I was with you right until that last statement you made.  Are you somehow suggesting that you know what the Truth is?  Are you starting off your first Sunday sermon here somehow insinuating that you know the Truth and the rest of us don’t and that we are just a bunch of ignorant folks who you are here to enlighten?”

                No.  I am not suggesting that at all.  For the Truth I am here to proclaim is Truth that is readily accessible to each and every person.  The Truth that I am here to proclaim is very, very near to each and every one of us.  The Truth that I am here to proclaim is actually with us right here, right now for all to see.  How so, you might ask?

                Well, let’s turn now to our Gospel lesson for today to find the answer to that question.  This is actually quite a funny text to have before us on Christ the King Sunday, for our King, King Jesus is standing before Pontius Pilate as a criminal; bound; awaiting trial.  Jesus doesn’t look like a king at all.  And this is probably what is behind Pilate’s initial question.  It’s likely a contemptuous question.  “Are YOU the king of the Jews?”  Pilate knows the answer is a flat out “NO!”  Jesus is from the wrong part of the country.  He only has a hand-full of close followers, and they have all deserted Him.  He is poor; all alone; with seemingly no power or authority.  This is no king, but if he is harboring delusional thoughts of grandeur—of overthrowing the Roman presence in Judea, then, then this Jesus might just be a threat.  Better to be safe than sorry.  Better to make sure.

                Jesus responds to Pilate’s question with a question.  “Are you asking me this on your own or are you just believing the rumors that everyone is spreading about me?”

                Pilate isn’t too thrilled with Jesus’ question.  “Am I a Jew?” Pilate strongly responds.  You see, Pilate had nothing but contempt for the Jews.  He was assigned to keep the peace.  He had no use for Jewish customs or Jewish beliefs.  He didn’t care about their religious politics.  This is what is behind his response to Jesus.  In other words, Pilate is saying, “I am not a Jew.  I don’t care about your religious squabbles.  Your people handed you over to me for some reason that I really don’t care about.  I just want to keep the peace here in Judea.  Now, what have you done to make them angry?”

                Jesus responds, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”  This is such an important statement.  We could spend all morning unpacking it, but for now, let us be content to hear Jesus admit that He is a king. Let us hear that Jesus has a kingdom, but it is not like any kingdom of the world.  It is not founded in power or prestige or violence.  It is not tied to any geographic area.  It is not from or of the world, but it is for the world.  Let me say that again, Jesus kingdom is not of the world, but it is certainly 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 did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save it.”

                Ah, but Pilate can’t hear such a thing.  Being a politician and a puppet of the emperor, he knows he must squash rebellion.  Jesus’ words sound rebellious!  “Aha!  So, you are a king!”

                In so many words, Jesus says with some amount of reluctance, “Yes. I am a king, but hear again that my purpose is a bit different from most kings.  I am a different sort of king.  For this I was born and for this I have come into the world: to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  Oh, let us hear Jesus’ words to Pilate.  Oh, let us understand them deeply, for in them is an invitation not only to Pilate, but to us as well.  Everyone who belongs to the Truth listens to Jesus’ voice.  Do you hear Jesus’ voice?  Do you belong to the Truth?  We will come back to this shortly.

                Pilate responds with the most ironic question in the whole Bible—at least it is ironic if you are a Christian.  If you are not a Christian, the question makes perfect sense.  I mean, indeed, what is Truth?  Does anyone really know what the Truth is?  You have your truth.  I have my truth.  Democrats have their truth.  Republicans have their truth.  If I don’t like what you say, I’ll just go find someone else who has a different understanding; a different insight; a different thought.  No one really knows the truth.  Pilate’s question ultimately is a rejection of what Jesus said.  Pilate cannot hear Jesus’ voice.  Pilate does not belong to the Truth.

                Ah, but what is Truth?  I said it was an ironic question if you are a Christian, because the answer is this: the Truth is standing right in front of Pilate.  For you see, my brothers and sisters, the Truth is not an idea; it is not a concept; it is not a philosophy; the Truth is a person—the God made flesh.  The Truth is Jesus.  Remember the story of when Jesus and His disciples were gathered in the room and Jesus told them, “Do not let your hearts be troubled, believe in God.  Believe also in me.  In my Father’s house there are many rooms.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?³And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. ⁴And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ ⁵Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ ⁶Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

                Jesus is the Truth.  Do you belong to the Truth?  Do you hear His voice?  Pilate could not. Pilate was blinded because He believed that truth was found in power, in prestige, in wealth, in privilege.  Pilate’s heart was captured by these things, so he could not see Jesus for who he was: the one who had come into the world to save it.

                And it is so easy to be blinded to Jesus.  It is so easy to have our hearts captured by other things.  It is so easy to miss the Truth and become enslaved to the cares and worries of the world.  You may ask how?  Well, let me offer up this little illustration.  You see, my previous home was pretty close to that other NFL team in Texas.  Sorry, life-long Cowboy’s fan here.  But that’s not the point.  What is the point is this: there were a few folks in the community who would comment that it was too difficult to drive 10 minutes to church; it was too much of a problem to sit for an hour in worship; it cost too much to put $20 in the offering plate.  And yet, and yet, these same folks would drive an hour and a half and fight Houston traffic to attend a Texan’s game.  They’d spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on a ticket for themselves and their families.  They would spend hundreds of dollars on food and souvenir items.  They’d devote three hours to watching the game, and then fight traffic to get out of the stadium and drive back home.  Their hearts were captured by their team.  Their king was athletics.

                And do you see how demanding that king was?  Do you see how much their king too of their time and energy and money?  Do you see how much their king took from them?  And what did they receive in return?  Momentary pleasure in a win.  Disgust in a loss.  The hope of another season.  A souvenir jersey that will fall apart.  A few memories to hold in their heads. Things that will all pass away and fade and leave them with absolutely nothing.  Such is the case with all false kings.  Such is the case with anything that your heart is captured by that is not Jesus.  And…here is the kicker…even though we essentially get nothing from those kings, what do they continue to do?  What do they continue to demand?  More time, more energy, more money.  They continue to make demands of you while giving you nothing in return.  Keep serving these kings, and you end up empty, restless, joyless, angry and frustrated.

                And so, let me now ask, about Jesus.  What does it mean when Jesus is your king?  What does it mean when your heart is captured by Him as the Truth?  How demanding is Jesus?  In one way, He is absolutely much more demanding than any other king.  For Jesus demands total allegiance.  He demands our entire life.  He demands that we honor and love Him with our heart, our mind, our soul, and our strength.  He demands that we love our neighbors as ourselves.  His demands are above and beyond what any other king would ever demand.  They are so great that we can never fulfill them.  And while most other kings would look upon us as failures and dismiss us for not being loyal enough; not being good enough; not being the subjects that we should be.  While most kings would cast us out of their kingdoms or punish us for our failure, our King, the Way, the Truth, the Life, instead lays down His life for us.  Our King, King Jesus redeems us with His holy and precious blood.  Our King sacrifices Himself for us to show us mercy and love.  Our King pours Himself out for us and then pours Himself into us so that we can become children of God and inheritors of eternal life.  Our King, in spite of our failures, loves us with a love beyond measure, and He shows us this sheer grace so that He may establish His kingdom in our hearts. For He longs to capture our hearts and reign in our hearts each and every day.  And once we see that; once we see the Truth standing there before us; once we see Jesus in our hearts as the Lord and King who loved us while we were still sinners; we become full of peace, love, joy, and hope.  What is Truth?  It is Jesus; King Jesus.  May He be king of your  heart this day and everyday.  Amen.

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.

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.

The Conversion of a Pastor

A reader asked something very pertinent and poignant:

I've read with great curiosity about your "conversion" and was wondering if there is/are post(s) from that time that I may read.  I struggle with the same issues that your congregant Mark dealt with and I read your sermon from his funeral and it was great.  I was just hoping to read what you were writing at the time he gave you that book that lead to your "conversion"...really a fuller understanding of the Gospel, I'd say.

I think one would have to read through the entirety of this blog in order to grasp what I was writing at the time this conversion process started, but one would also have to know the underlying processes which was at work as well.  In this post, I hope to lay some of that out so that you can see just what was going on inside my heart at the time.  Be forewarned, I personally don't think it was pretty.  In fact, it was rather petty.  At the time, I never saw what I was doing and what my motivations were.  I know now, and I have a sense of shame regarding them.  But none-the-less, I will put the chips out there and let them fall where they may.

As I stated in my Easter Sermon to my congregation, I was filled with dreams as a pastor--big dreams.  I wanted to be the pastor of a congregation that grew and grew and grew.  I wanted the place to worship thousands on a Sunday and have thousands of members.  I wanted that congregation to buck the trend of decline experienced by denominations in the U.S., and then I wanted folks to beat down my door asking, "How did you do it?"  I wanted to be able to share my expertise and be important in the eyes of the church.  I wanted fame and notoriety.  To an extent, these things still reside within me as a shadow.  I am not sure I will ever get rid of them.

Of course, in order to have these dreams come to fruition, I needed a congregation to cooperate.  I needed others to cooperate with me and make this stuff happen.  I would work like the dickens to see it accomplished, but I needed others to work like the dickens as well.  I never realized how self-centered this approach was because, as I see it now, I was using Jesus as a means to an end and I was using a congregation and its people as a means to an end.  The only humility I had within me was a false humility to make people think I wasn't using them.  (Again, I never saw it this way at the time.  I never thought I was using anyone.  I thought I was doing God's work and simply preaching the Gospel.)

I considered my first congregation a learning experience as I served as an associate pastor, but coming to my current congregation was a chance to really do things my way.  I jumped in with both feet and hit the ground running.

And things went wonderfully!  The congregation grew by leaps and bounds!  People were excited about doing things!  People were filling the pews!  And I was thrilled!  My dreams seemed like they were well on their way to coming true.  We were drawing all sorts of people to the church--some who were disgruntled with other congregations; others who had stopped worshiping long ago but were returning; young families with children.   I was happy, happy, happy.

But then things began to stop.  Perhaps there were many factors, including making the transition from a "pastoral" sized congregation to a "program" sized congregation, but there was one in particular that I can point to that filled me with fear.

The national church in 2009 made the decision to ordain practicing homosexuals.  There were a few members who were absolutely against this decision.  There were others who favored it.  There were many who were not happy but wouldn't cause a fuss--they would just stop giving.  There were others who really didn't care at all.  It was a no win situation as far as I was concerned.  The national church assembly had just thrown a monkey wrench into my plans.

And so I tried to fix it.

I did.  I tried to come up with a solution that wouldn't necessarily satisfy everyone, but it would be enough to keep the congregation on the right track to growth.  My dreams wouldn't be derailed!  Or so I thought.

The "fix" didn't work.  We still lost members.  A different sort of "spirit" seemed to surround the congregation.

And so I went to work.  I tried to get the church focused on other things.  You know what all the pundits say, right?  Keep an organization focused on a project.  Keep them focused on doing good things!  That will bring folks around and keep them coming to your organization.  Yep, I bought it.  Onto trying such events.  The first of which was the Kan You Kover 100K?--one of the reasons I actually kicked off this blog.  These things will work, right?  No luck.

Little did I know that burnout was fast creeping upon me.  I had thrown myself into trying to save my dream, and it was taking its toll.

It was around this time that I was given the book A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Tackle Life's Biggest Questions.  Looking back now, it was a blessing and a curse at the time.  Ultimately, it was a blessing, but to begin with it fed another part of my ego.

You see, I suffered from, and still to an extent suffer from, a tremendous desire to be right.  I want to have the right thoughts, subscribe to the right doctrine, do the right things, and so on and so forth.  I wanted to think that I was intellectually superior to others, and I wanted to think I was morally superior to others as well.  I would have never, ever admitted this before.  False humility.

The authors presented in this book offered me a train of Christian apologetics that I had not been exposed to in my days of college and seminary.  After having been exposed to "Christian fundamentalism" in my youth, college and seminary presented me with the exact opposite end of the spectrum.  Neither of these two paths seemed intellectually satisfying in my estimation.  Both seemed to have severe inconsistencies.  The train of thought presented by the book seemed to have fewer inconsistencies and have a better progression of logic.  Therefore, I became hooked.

I read and read and read.  I ordered other books by those who had chapters in the book.  I absorbed their thoughts thinking I had found the "right" path.  I now had the answers!  I knew what would save my dream!

Discipleship!  I had to be a better disciple.  I had to make my congregation be better disciples!

I embraced another form of legalism, and burnout loomed large.

Yeah.  Long story short, I failed at that discipleship thing.  I just couldn't be a great disciple, and I couldn't make others be disciples either.  Looking back at many of my sermons from those days, I was so concerned about what we were supposed to be doing!  Do this.  Do that.  Give here.  Be loving.  Be kind.  Produce the fruits of the Spirit.  I was also consumed with believing the right things.  This is the proper belief.  This is the proper doctrine to grasp.  If we all just believed this, things would turn, and we would stop this plateau and grow once again. 

What I failed to realize is that these sort of things don't happen unless a heart has been transformed by the Gospel--the realization that our salvation is from the Lord; that our self-worth is from the Lord; that we do not strive for worldly status and praise--"I haven't accomplished much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on very good terms."

I've written a couple of times about that statement of my grandfather's.  I wrote about it this past Easter along with Timothy Keller's speech about doing evangelism in a postmodern world.  Both of these events were instrumental in bringing me through that final lap of conversion.  Honestly, I had to fail before this could happen.   I had to burn out.  I had to realize my failing and frailty.  I had to realize my own brokenness and inability to grow a church.  I had to realize that I was using Jesus as a means to an end and not as an end in and of Himself.  I had to die to all of that.  I had to be humbled.

It wasn't pleasant, but there is now something different within me.  There is peace.  There is joy.  I'm not trying to treat my congregation as a means to an end.  I don't get angry or frustrated with others when they make decisions which are not in line with having Jesus at the center of their lives.  Hey, I spend a long time doing the same thing, and if I am honest with myself, there are times when I still do such things.  I know Jesus is still working on me.  I know Jesus will work on them.  I simply need to proclaim the gospel.

And that gospel is rather mucked up these days by the church.  I mean, most of the time we spend talking about what we should do.  We consume ourselves with the transformation of society or hammer folks with ideology.  We focus on a lot of shoulds.  Shoulds are important, no doubt, but you cannot talk should in the church until you talk redemption.  You cannot talk about living the Christian life until hearts have been turned toward God.  Only after folks become converted to the Christian faith can we begin trying to wrestle with how we are supposed to live it out.

Too often, in the church, we make the assumption that folks hearts are already tuned in. We make the assumption that they have already been changed by the gospel.  I think making that assumption is deadly.

I think making that assumption has caused many of our congregations to either become "liberal" or "conservative".  We embrace a particular ethic or social stance or ideology to become acceptable to those outside; then, those folks will want to become a part of us because our ideology matches as well as the things we do.  In my estimation, this has transformed many churches into clubs.

I once asked members of one particular congregation what made their church different from any other social organization.

It was quite awkward for a few moments.

What distinguishes the Church of Christ from any other organization is its focus on the Gospel of Jesus Christ--God's reconciling the world unto Himself through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  It is the power of the Gospel to change lives--to bring a sense of lasting peace, joy, and fulfillment which makes us different.

Our salvation; the world's salvation is of the Lord!  It's of the Lord!  Our self-worth; our status; our identity comes from the Lord!  It's of the Lord!  I don't have to go around proving myself.  I don't have to be important in the eyes of anyone or any institution.  I don't have to have a congregation grow in order to be happy or fulfilled.  I simply need Jesus.

I somewhat understood that with my head, but it hadn't sunk deep within.  It didn't  govern my heart.  I think it does now.  I still struggle.  I still find myself becoming a little disappointed when worship attendance isn't where I think it should be.  I still get a little upset when people tell me they are coming to worship and then don't.  I still find myself wanting to be right about all kinds of things; but these things no longer dominate.  These things are no longer my ultimate pursuits.

I've changed.

Maybe you seek that kind of change too.
Maybe you are tired of getting your worth from all sorts of things.
Maybe you are stressed out; burned out; unhappy; unfulfilled.
Take a deep breath and examine whether or not Christ is at the center of your life.
Examine whether or not you are pursuing Him or other things.  (This may be extremely difficult; as I noted earlier, I wasn't aware of what I was doing.)
Perhaps you will have a moment of clarity.
Perhaps not.  Be patient.  Wait.  Seek.  Ask God for it.  (Read my next sermon for some insight into how this process may look as it plays out.)

But don't go around thinking you can continue to do all the same things.
Don't think that you can continue to pursue the things you are pursuing now.
Change will have to happen.
It will be painful.  I am sorry to say that as we tend to avoid painful things, but it is necessary.
But once broken through, when Christ orients your heart toward Him, things change

And for the better.

The Truth--Jesus--sets you free.

You are Working Too Hard

It's never happened in my 14 years of serving as a pastor.

It broke the mold, and I am very thankful for it.

After worship this past Sunday, a congregation member caught me as I was tuning my guitar in preparation for Sunday School opening.  The following conversation is not verbatim, but I think it is a very close reconstruction:

"Pastor," the member said, "I am doing all of the things you said in your sermon.  Why don't I have it (peace and fulfillment)?  What is wrong with me?"

I stopped to ponder that question for a moment.  This was shaky ground.  Too far to one side, and you've crossed into that territory where you blame someone and their lack of faith in that they haven't found peace.  Too far to the other side, and you come across as self-righteous--with an "I've got something you don't have" attitude.  Too often, because of our weakness, this happens--even to the best of those who seek to help others grow spiritually.

"I don't know," I replied.  "Let's think about it for a minute."

"I've quit my job.  I spend a lot of time sitting and reflecting, and I still don't have peace.  I still am hurting.  I still am empty."

I paused once again.  Everyone's spiritual path is a little different, but there are still some similarities.  If there were none, the saints' experiences of old would have no meaning for us today.  As someone who has recently been converted by the gospel and been given a sense of that peace, I began working with this congregation member with mine.

Me: I know you read my blog.  I know you know all about my ordeal with burn out.  I know you heard the story of my grandfather's words to me.  "I haven't accomplished much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on very good terms."  That statement hit me down deep and helped bring about transformation because it set things in perspective.

Congregation Member (CM): I understand that, and I understand that quote.  But it's still not there.

Me: And, something happened to me when I went away to my property out in Rocksprings.  I don't know exactly what it was.  I was away from everything; from television, internet, cell phones and technology.  I was completely reliant upon others when my truck broke down.  I came back different.

CM: I see that, and I'm doing a lot of the same things.

(light bulb!)

Me: Wait a minute.  You are doing?

CM: Yes.

Me: Think about that a moment.  You are doing all this stuff to achieve peace and healing.  You know, I once thought I had to do an awful lot to make this congregation grow. I thought it was my job to motivate people, to save the church, to get people to come here.  I thought it was all up to me.  Don't get me wrong.  I mean, I said all along that God's Spirit had to bring people to faith and bring them to worship and change their hearts and motivate them.  I said all the right things about grace and salvation and growing into discipleship, but down deep in my heart, it wasn't there.  I had it in my head, but it wasn't down in my heart.  I had to let all that stuff go.  Last Sunday, when I quoted the words of Amazing Grace, I almost didn't make it through the song.  I have always believed the words of that song, but it became really real, if you know what I mean.

CM: Trust me, as I left last week, I was bawling my eyes out.

Me: Maybe, the problem is that you are trying to get this peace and healing on your own efforts.  You are trying to do all the right things, but it isn't about that.  It's about God's grace healing you.

CM: Maybe that's the case.

This member began shedding tears once again.  My own lips trembled.  (Hey, I had to hold it together.  Sunday School was about to start!)  We embraced.

Later in the afternoon, I checked Facebook.  One of the status updates was a group I had liked--a group following C.S. Lewis quotes.  The quote read, "Your real, new self will not come as long as you are looking for it.  It will come when you are looking for Him."

I quickly texted this quote to my congregation member.

I thought about what C.S. Lewis said.
I thought about my conversation with my congregant.
I thought about my own journey and sense of peace within.

And I said, "Amen."

Whenever a sense of self-peace, self-fulfillment, self-contentment, and self-joy is our goal, we are still being self-centered.  We are still at the center of our own universe and pursuing a false god.  It is not pursuit of God.  It is not pursuit of Christ.

Pause: Before anyone jumps me for not being theologically correct from a Lutheran standpoint, I understand deeply and appreciatively that I cannot "find Jesus" or "find God" through my own efforts and strength.  Christ coming to us is a tremendous gift which comes sometimes despite our best efforts often to avoid it and rely upon ourselves.  Yet, if our goal is seeking self-satisfaction, it clouds our relationship with Christ and ultimately does not allow Him to do His work.

When Christ becomes the center; when the understanding of grace takes root--that salvation comes from the Lord; when my own ego is shattered and self-righteousness is beaten back (but not fully conquered); when I realize Christ loves me despite my flaws and does not forcibly try to change those flaws and that I am called to extend that same courtesy to others; then the by-product is peace, joy, fulfillment and understanding.  I do not get those things without Christ being center.

Are you working too hard to find peace, fulfillment and contentment?  Are these things the end goals in and of themselves?

I think that if they are, you will not find them.  They must be cast off as false pursuits.

Pursue Christ; seek first His kingdom, then all these things will be added as well.

Set Free from Our Modern Masters

    I know we cherish the thought that we are free.  I phrased that sentence very carefully.  Listen to it again.  I know we cherish the thought that we are free.  I mean, no one wants to be told or to think that one is shackled.  No one wants to be told or think that one is a prisoner.  No one wants to be told or think that one isn’t in control of his or her own life or destiny.  “I govern my own thoughts and my own life and no one tells me what to do!  I AM FREE!”  Or so we like to think.

    But are we really free?

    A couple of chapters before this story, Jesus confronts a group of Pharisees, and he tells them, “Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ They answered him, ‘We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, “You will be made free”?’

    Jesus answered them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there for ever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

    Now, you may say to me, “Well, pastor, I know that I sin, but I’m hardly a slave to it.  It doesn’t control me.  I ask God for forgiveness, and I continue on in doing the things that make me happy.”

    And so I ask you, “Are you then a slave to happiness?  By your own words are you not a slave to your desires?”  I do the things that make me happy.

    And I am sure you are happy–for a time.  But do you have joy?  Do you have peace?  Do you have a sense of fulfillment about you?  If you do, then congratulations, but do you think this is what I hear most people say about their lives?  Do you think when I ask people about how their lives are going, they say they are at peace and have contentment?  Not a chance.  In fact, I cannot think of anyone who has ever answered me that they are at peace.  Of course, everyone first says that they are doing fine, but in a matter of moments, if you really engage them in conversation, they begin telling you how busy they are.  They begin telling you how they are chasing after their kids, or their commitments, or after volunteer opportunities, or at work or what have you.  Our conversations constantly revolve around all the stuff we have to do or get done, and time and again I hear the stress and the strain.  “I’m tired.”  “I’m stressed.”  “I don’t want to deal with all of this stuff anymore.”

    And if I got up here this morning and said, “Just walk away from it then,” what would you tell me?  Many would say, “I can’t.”  Others might say, “Well, I’ll just stop coming to church because that’s a place where I can cut some time.”  Let me offer you this.  First, if you say you can’t stop doing the things you are doing, then I submit to you, you are not free.  You are a prisoner.  Second, I submit to you that if you decide to cut out going to church and coming into contact with the living God, then you are actually leaving the one place where you can be assured to encounter the one who can make you free.

    Let’s turn to our gospel lesson this morning from the 11th chapter of the book of John.  It’s the story of Jesus’ raising of Lazarus.  We see how Jesus is made aware early on that Lazarus is very ill.  Jesus purposely procrastinates in going to his friend’s side knowing full well Lazarus will die.  When Jesus does finally head to Bethany, He is confronted with the human condition–our bondage to sin and death.

    Upon His arrival, Martha runs out to meet him.  Martha tells Jesus, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  Interestingly enough, this is not the first time we will hear this statement.  It will be spoken again later.  “Lord, if only you had been here...but nevertheless, I know that God will grant you what you ask.” 

    Jesus responds, “Your brother will rise again.”

    Martha says, “Of course he will at the resurrection.”

    And Jesus snaps back, “I am the resurrection and the life.  Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

    Do you believe this?  Jesus confronts Martha with the Truth.  In the midst of our struggles and stresses and anxieties, we usually become so overwhelmed that we leave the Truth behind.  We focus on all the stuff of the world, but neglect the source of our strength and hope.  We neglect the source of true freedom.  “I am the resurrection and the life!” Jesus says, “Do you believe this?”

    Martha says, “Yes.  I believe you are the Messiah.”  Are we so bold as to say the same thing?

    It’s interesting that the story doesn’t progress from here straight to Lazarus’ tomb.  There is more, and this time, Martha’s sister Mary is involved.  Mary now comes to Jesus, and she says the exact same phrase Martha said earlier.  “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”

    But this time, Jesus’ response is vastly different.  This time, instead of appealing to the Truth, Jesus responds with tears.  Seeing Mary’s grief and the grief of those surrounding her, Jesus is troubled deeply.  Actually, that’s not the proper term.  The proper term is brought to a place of roiling anger.  It’s an anger that causes Jesus to weep.  Why?  Why does Jesus weep?

    Let’s take in three more sentences of the text.  36So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ 37But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’  Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed (billowing with anger!), came to the tomb.

    Remember when I said Jesus was confronted with the human condition?  Jesus is confronted with the reality of death, and His first encounter is with Martha who says, “Lord if only you had been here, this stuff wouldn’t have happened.”  There is both a statement of trust and condemnation in that statement.  Martha trusts that Jesus would have healed Lazarus, but she also has a hint of chastisement, I think.  Not just if you would have been here, you should have been here.  How often do we think the same things of God–you should make my life better.  You should take away my problems.  You should take away my anxiety, my fear, my guilt, my shame–if only you were here! 

    Mary offers another aspect of the human condition to Jesus.  She falls on her feet in front of Jesus and with tears says, “Lord if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  She is consumed with grief; with pain; with frustration; with agony.  Jesus sees this pain–pain brought on by death and suffering.  And He gets angry about it.

    Finally, Jesus knows the hearts of those who are saying, “Well, He opened the eyes of the guy born blind.  Surely taking care of a cold would have been pretty easy.”  They are doubting Jesus.  They are doubting that He is the Messiah.  Confronted with death, grief, illness, and suffering, they doubt that Jesus is who He says He is.  And Jesus gets angry once again.

    What is He angry at?  Is He angry at Martha and Mary?  No.  I don’t think so.  Is He angry at those who were expressing doubt?  No.  I don’t think so again. He was getting angry before their statement.  Is He angry with Himself for not getting there?  No.  He engineered this situation from the get-go.  If He’s not angry with any of the players in the play, then who or what is Jesus angry at?

    The human condition.  He’s angry at the whole situation of brokenness that we face when it comes to facing death.  And where did that brokenness come from?  Where did it all start? 

    Long ago, in the garden when man and woman chose to be like God instead of depending on God.  The sin of Adam once again rears its head.  Selfish desire strikes out showing just how we are trapped.  We are in chains.  Death holds sway, and many of our pursuits of life are efforts to deal with the fact or to avoid the fact that we will die.  We rush and hurry and scurry to get as much in as we can because we are going to die.  We enslave ourselves to our jobs and our possessions and our plans and our desires so that we can die having done and seen as much as we possibly can.  We end up stressed out burning the candles at both ends with no peace and no joy because we are afraid of death.  And Jesus sees this.  He’s angry about it.  Deeply and passionately angry about it because He knows, He knows this is not the way it is supposed to be.

    He knows that we are meant to have peace.

    He knows we are meant to have fulfillment.

    He knows we are meant to have joy.

    But we will not find them pursuing all the stuff we think will give it to us.  We will only find such things in Jesus.  He knows He must show us, and in the raising of Lazarus, we get a foreshadowing of why Jesus came into the world.

    For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son so that whoever believes 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.

            “Show me where you buried him!”  Jesus exclaims.  “Roll the stone away!”
    “LAZARUS, COME FORTH!”

    Lazarus is raised from the dead to the astonishment of all.  Jesus shows that He has power over death.  “I am the resurrection and the life.”  Abundant life.  Fulfilled life.

    And Jesus’ last words in our lesson today are, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

    Unbind him, and let him go.  On Calvary, Jesus stretched out His arms and died to reconcile the world unto God.  Three days later, another stone was rolled away and another tomb became empty, and the freedom released wasn’t just for one man.  It was for the world.  It was for you.  It was for me.  By grace, you have been set free, and it was and is through Christ alone.  Amen.