You Can't Stay in Bethlehem (Mt 2: 13-16, 19-23, Mk 3: 20-31) 12/30/12

          Jesus is born. Of this we can be sure and of this we must surely be thankful. Now, all we have to do is wait. If we are living in the times of Jesus and believe him to be the Messiah, we might want to hang around Bethlehem and watch him grow up. We can just nurse this warm fuzzy feeling and hang out for a while.

          Not! Even Jesus didn’t get to do that. He may have stayed in Bethlehem for a good while, but he certainly didn’t get to stay there long in his young life.  The Gospel of Luke tells us in Chapter 2 (22) that the child Jesus was taken to the Temple to be presented to the Lord. This would have been at least forty days after his birth just to adhere to the Mosaic law of ritual purification. Earlier in the chapter, Luke refers to the baby lying in a manger (16). Here, Luke uses the word Brephos, which can be translated “newborn” or “infant.” Eleven verses later, the same writer uses a different Greek word. Translated as “child”, the Greek word is paidion, which means “infant” or “child.” The implication is that Jesus is no longer a newborn, but perhaps a toddler.

In Matthew’s gospel, the Magi visit Jesus only after his presentation at the Temple. When they go home by another way to avoid Herod, he orders the death of all male children under age two.  Even accounting for the evil calculations of Herod, we can surmise that Jesus was probably not an infant when his parents took him to Egypt. It was only ninety miles south, admittedly a long journey. But it was out of Herod’s jurisdiction.

          Regardless of the age of Jesus when he left Bethlehem, the point is that he left. Even the Son of God had to move on. Even the Son of God couldn’t stay in Bethlehem, at least not if he wanted to accomplish the purpose for which he had been sent.

           I have a friend who works at the local high school. He is the head of the Math Department there and teaches advanced placement Calculus and other college level math courses. He also teaches basic entry level algebra to ninth graders. His favorite course? You guessed it. The course with the ninth graders. This fella graduated from N.C State University with a degree in Aerospace Engineering. He went to work in that industry for a few years at a very high salary. One day he got a call from a high school in need of a math teacher. He laughed. He had always said that he would never teach. But then he decided to help them out by teaching just one course for just one semester. The rest is history. He left his lucrative job for a high school teaching position. Why do men and women all over the world do such silly things? Because they’re not silly at all. You can’t stay in Bethlehem, at least not if you want to accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.

          In the third chapter of Mark’s gospel, Jesus is on a mountain when he calls the twelve who are to become his apostles. He is preaching and performing miracles, and great crowds are gathering and following him. After calling the twelve, Jesus goes home, apparently to Nazareth. Incidentally, here are twelve more shining examples of being called away from your life’s work, from your comfort zone, into God’s work. These twelve men left their homes and families and followed Jesus all around the countryside for three years. Then, they set out to change the world. Back to Jesus. He is followed everywhere. He has no privacy. Church leaders are saying that to cast out demons, he must be possessed by the devil. His family, hearing of his arrival and his plight, goes out to seize him, saying that he is out of his mind. The crowd alerts Jesus that his mother and brothers are at the edge of the crowd and are calling him. Jesus answers: “Who are my mother and my brothers?” It is a rhetorical question to which he supplies his own answer. Looking around at those who sat around him, he says: “These are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God, he is my mother and my sister and my brother.”  Jesus then goes on to perform several miracles in the surrounding area. When he returns to Nazareth, his hometown, he is rejected by his own neighbors and friends. He is just the carpenter’s son. He says that “a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household” [6:4]. And he leaves and goes out among other villages. You can’t stay where you’ve always been, at least not if you want to accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.  

          Last week was Christmas. We celebrated the birth of the Christ child, the gift of God himself to a world broken and selfish and without direction. That birth was celebrated by shepherds and astrologers and angels from heaven. But it was also watched by those who would extinguish the tiny king before his kingdom could even be announced.  Neither could possibly realize how small were their roles on that stage. As the shepherds went back to their fields, the Magi back to their homeland, Herod back to protecting his little fiefdom in the middle of the Roman Empire, the little baby became a child. Luke says that the child increased in wisdom and in stature and found favor with God and Man [Lk 2: 52]. When his life was threatened, his parents took him from Bethlehem. When his ministry stalled, he left Nazareth. He couldn’t stay, at least not if he was to accomplish the purpose for which he had been sent.

          It’s not about where you hang your hat at the end of the day. The home of your parents can be your home too, or you might find yourself halfway around the world. But it is about where and how you answer the call of your Heavenly Father. He calls each and every one of us. Are you listening? Age has nothing to do with it. Infirmities have nothing to do with it. Even your present station in life may have nothing to do with it. Are you listening?  Christmas is over. You can’t stay in Bethlehem, any more than Jesus could. God has work for you.  Make sure you accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.

 

I Am Still the Light (Ps. 27:1, Jn 1: 4,5, Mt 19: 13, Jn 8: 12 (12/23/12)

      It’s the fourth Sunday of Advent. This is the Sunday when we light the
candle of Love. He will be here soon. Mary and Joseph are traveling to little Bethlehem, which has swelled well beyond its capacity to house all the travelers coming in for the census. Mary knows her time is short. It will be only two more days and He will come into the world, the world He created, presided over by this unruly mob of nations. Mary’s heart is full. She is tired, but ready to deliver this promise from God. She is ready to give Him all the love she has saved in her heart for this moment. As powerful and steadfast as her love for Him will be, it will prove to be not much more than a trifle compared to the love He will bring to the broken world into which He is about to be delivered. In time, the world will come to define love by the way He offered his own love to us.

Advent is a happy time, a time of anticipation. These are the days and hours leading to the birth of the Christ child, the child who was to change the world forever. For those of us who have experienced parenthood, we know deeply the meaning of the words of the song that Ashley Horton sang so tenderly last week: “A child changes everything.”

Yes, a child changes everything. And after a child has come into your life, or until a child does so, the absence of a child changes everything too. Perhaps it is the newness and freshness of a mind not yet soiled by the world. Perhaps it is the innocence of a soul not yet tainted by evil and selfishness. Whatever it is, children are the freshness in a world full of dirty laundry and skeletons in closets. Children bring us light.

Can you imagine standing in line at the police barrier two weeks ago? In a small community, word travels fast. We have all seen the pictures of the children coming out of Sandy Hook as their parents wait, leaning over the barriers, looking for their child. After a while, the children are out. They have united with their parents and gone home. But there are still parents on the line. They wait. They wait, hoping there is a mistake, maybe a child hiding who will emerge sooner or later, so they wait. But there are no more children walking out. The first grade parents begin to realize the unthinkable. Some sob. Some square their jaws and clench their fists. Many are praying for this cup to pass.

And yet, as bad as that image is, imagine this one. The word goes out that the Messiah has been born in Bethlehem. In response, the reigning Jewish king of the day issues an order for all the male children two years old and under in that area to be murdered. Evil was alive and well in Israel two thousand years ago, just as surely as it was two weeks ago in Newtown.

In the 27^th Psalm, King David declares: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” The Lord is my light, says David. No fear. The beloved apostle John tells us in the beginning of his gospel that “In Him (meaning Jesus) was life, and the life was the light of the world.”

We have heard these words many times. They are always a comfort to those who believe. Are they a comfort to those whose belief is pressed to the breaking point? I hope so.  In Newtown, Connecticut, parents are burying little children this week. At a time that we celebrate the birth of the Christ child, Sandy Hook Elementary’s parents are saying goodbye to the lights of their lives. Has evil won?

I want to read you a very fresh poem. You may have already heard it. It was written this week by a person named Cameo Smith from Mt. Wolf, PA, and is traveling over the internet. Listen.

Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38,
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.

They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy. "We're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name,
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring.
Those children all flew into the arms of their King,
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had,
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of Mom and Dad."
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below,
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"May this country be delivered from the hands of fools."
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"

Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

        Matthew tells us in the 19^th chapter of his gospel that Jesus has gone down

from Galilee to the region of Judea, where he engages in dialogue about divorce

with the Pharisees. While he is talking, children are brought to him to lay hands

on them. His disciples are pushing the parents back, trying to let Jesus continue

in his lecturing with the Pharisees.  Jesus stops his disciples. He stops what he is

doing and says: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to

them belongs the kingdom of heaven.” He laid his hands on them. Then he went

away. Want to know how much God loves his children? Think about how much

you love your own. Think about how much it means for them to be in your life.

Then, think about sending your only child to certain death and death as horrible

as mankind could make it. Behind that image is more love than we can quantify.

That is the stage upon which the child Jesus stepped on that first Christmas

night.   

       For to them belongs the kingdom of heaven, says Jesus. The children have

the innocence to hear the truth, to discern that which is genuine. Oh, that we

could remain in that childlike innocence. We could find the kingdom of heaven

so much more easily. Even in this media driven world which would immunize us

from any semblance of innocence, we are called rightly by Scripture to have

faith like that of children. Carl Henry says that Jesus turns life right side-up,

and heaven outside-in.  The truth of life lies not with the six o’clock news, but

rather with the Good News.

        On December 14, 2012, evil came to a little elementary school in Newtown,

New Jersey. It came violently and left behind a horror that would challenge the

strongest Christian’s faith. But evil has always been here. It was in the Garden

of Eden and challenged Adam. It was in the Garden of Gethsemane and

tempted Jesus. Like the parents and children at Sandy Hook, his cup did not

pass either.  Evil has always been with us. The question is whether it conquers

our spirits or whether we instead hold fast to the Light.

       

     This weekend we remember the star that signaled the birth of God himself in

human form. Let us also remember the promise of our Savior. John’s gospel

tells us in Chapter 8 (12) that Jesus is in the temple courts, again confronting

the scribes and Pharisees, this time over the woman caught in adultery. As he

forgives her, he turns to the audience and says “I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

       

     As Cameo Smith says about Jesus: “I AM STILL THE LIGHT.” Worry not

about the children who left us, for as the poem says, they’re spending Christmas

in God’s house. Concern yourself this day and every day with walking in the

light. Concern yourself that the message we send as Christians to those parents

in Newtown, and parents everywhere, is that our Savior is our Salvation. He is

our light. In time the painful images of Sandy Hook will fade, but I think we

should hold on to the lesson. Evil is never far from us, and there no real

protection from its tentacles except an abiding faith in Jesus Christ to guide us

through the darkness into his everlasting Light.

      It is Christmas. As the Conductor on the Polar Express reminds his young

passengers, sometimes the things that are the most real are the things we

cannot see. And the Word that was the light of the world came and dwelt

among us. Let’s spend this Christmas in God’s house right here on earth. It’s

Advent. He has come, and He is coming. Hallelujah!

  

Cracked Pots ( Isaiah64: 1-9, 2 Corinthians 4: 1-12) 12/9/12

It’s the second Sunday of Advent. This is the Sunday when we light the candle of Peace. Peace. Wouldn’t that be nice?  Wouldn’t it be nice for the anniversary of the birth of the Christ child to come on a day when the earth is at peace? Not this year. As usual, the Middle East tops the list for volatility, from Iraq to Egypt, from Afghanistan to Syria. But war and unrest are not confined to the Middle East. As I was writing this message, an email came in from my daughter in Africa that the Rwandan-Ugandan border is now unsafe for Americans due to the presence of Congolese rebels, who are using the border of Uganda to attack those in Rwanda thought to be unsympathetic to the rebel cause in Congo. As we approach Christmas, many nations are in turmoil.

 The prophet Jeremiah cried out to the nation of Israel saying “To whom shall I speak and give warning? [6:10], meaning that no one was listening. I am afraid that for much of the world, Jeremiah’s cry would be heard no better today than in days of old. Many in this world would respond as did those within earshot of the prophet. We are deaf. We do not listen. Jeremiah goes on to say that from prophet to priest we have dealt falsely, that we have only healed the people’s wounds lightly, saying “Peace, peace, when there is no peace.” [6: 13, 14], that we are no longer ashamed; that we no longer even know how to blush. [15]

Is it hopeless? Of course not. We live in a world fashioned by God Almighty. The great I Am. Nothing is hopeless where God is concerned, and he is concerned with his people.  In Isaiah 64, Isaiah is tired and he wants God to make his presence known. He calls out for God to part the portals of heaven itself and come down. When God comes down, nations tremble and mountains quake. Yes, Isaiah wanted for God to shake things up.  

And Isaiah says But God, you are our Father. Please look upon us again. Don’t forget us. After all, you made us. You are the potter. It is in your hands that the clay that makes us was fashioned. Don’t be too terribly angry with us, Father. Don’t remember our sins forever. Please, look on your people again.

Ever seen a potter at work? I think it’s fascinating to watch a potter fashioning the clay, wetting it, getting just the right consistency, then plopping that slab of unformed clay right in the middle of the wheel. It’s amazing to watch what can happen to a slab of clay in the hands of an expert.  Incredible works of art burst forth in front of our very eyes as the craftsman turns his wheel and gently works the clay into urns, pots, plates and jars, to name a few creations.

“Don’t be too terribly angry with us, Father. Don’t remember our sins forever.” As the potter works, he realizes his creation is not right. It is missing something. It is not what he envisioned. Ever feel like you try and try, and the more you try, the worse off you are. Ever feel like you have the right angle on what to do and where to go and how you are to live your life, only to be slapped right back to where you started. Maybe it’s just God, the master potter, working and shaping you on his wheel, getting you to just the right consistency, just the right mix.

The potter slaps his hand right into the midst of his creation, and it collapses in a heap. He starts again, this time with a slightly different vision, this time perhaps with a little more color, a little more consistency.  Sometimes, the pot cracks and he has to start all over again. Over and over, the potter works his magic until at last, the finished product lies before him.

The prophets of old labored and labored to get the people of Israel on the right track. They labored before, during and after the exile, trying to bring God’s chosen into line with God’s vision. Seven hundred years passed from the time of Isaiah while the nation of Israel floundered. Seven hundred years passed as the Master Potter turned his wheel. And Isaiah reminded his people that “no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.”

Seven hundred years after Isaiah, a light shone over a manger in a little town in Judea. God had heard Isaiah’s plea and had come down. Nations did not tremble and mountains did not quake as Isaiah had forecast, as least not right away. The Master Potter had found another way to make his creation sing the song of peace that mankind had yearned for. Don’t you know Isaiah was watching from a front seat in his heavenly perch as God acted in such a mighty way! The Potter had cast himself onto the wheel. He sent his son as a newborn baby. The next three decades would harden and cure that son Jesus into the vessel from whom all of us should find our model. He would live to be glazed in the shadow of a cruel cross, but even that was meant for good.

In the New Testament, Paul echoes Isaiah’s thought. Paul tells the Corinthians that God has shone in our hearts, giving us the light of the knowledge of his glory. How does he do that, we ask? Paul says that God brings light from the darkness in the face of Jesus Christ. And there lies the peace that Advent promises us. God does act for those who wait for him.

Is there hope for us? Certainly. Is there peace in our future? Absolutely! We too are the work of the master potter. Paul reminds us that though we are no more than jars of clay ourselves to be thrown about, cracked and splintered, nevertheless we are God’s treasures. Paul reminds us that we are afflicted, but not crushed, perplexed but not to despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed. As our bodies and minds are worked and re-worked, we become a new creation.  Where once we were cracked pots of no use or value, now we become treasures of the Master. Our lives are fashioned in the hands of the potter, and in the end we are hardened for service and glazed for immortality in the light of the star over Bethlehem.

Peace will come. It will not come through the opening of presents or even through the purchase of them for loved ones, as nice as that is. It will not come through the lighting of the Yule log or the arrival of children home for the holidays, as warm as that promises to be.  Peace will come for those who understand the meaning of that star over Bethlehem. It will come through the Christ child sent from God.  In fact, for those who stand in that light that shines out of the darkness, the face of Jesus becomes our peace. Christ is coming, and in that coming lies the peace promised by Advent.

Claim it. Claim it for yourself this day and give it to your neighbor. The more you give it away, the more will it be finally captured in your heart, and present in your life.    

Wisdom From the Spirit (1 Cor. 2: 1-16) 11/18/12

We are in the information age.  Technological advances of the last two decades are mind boggling. Today we can calculate, process data, see each other through webcams, access music, books, even entire libraries on a wireless cellphone. We can read a book on an electronic tablet. We can buy groceries, have pizza delivered, check our bank accounts, pay our bills and much more without leaving our den. Television broadcasts hundreds of channels from all over the globe. You can make quality photographs on your printer, get news almost instantly from around the planet on your laptop. Information is at our fingertips.

Medical science has made huge advances. Dozens of diseases have been almost entirely eradicated. Hip and knee replacements are common. Organ transplants occur routinely. We can get lung, liver, kidney, cornea, even heart transplants. We know lots more about health and hygiene, what’s healthy for us to eat, what food portions are good for us, the importance of regular exercise. We are taller and stronger and live years longer than we used to.

We can propel vehicles with gasoline, ethanol, electricity and in the not too distant future, even solar power. We can produce energy not just with fossil fuels, natural gas and water, but also through wind and solar cells. Eight countries now have nuclear weapons capability, each with the power to blow up whole cities.

We have nations rich in foodstuffs, other nations rich in oil reserves, yet others rich with plentiful workforces. As a planet, we have enough resources to feed and clothe and heat and cool the world.

With all the information now available to us, we must be more educated. Well, at least more informed, more savvy. We have so much information at our disposal; we should be in the age of wisdom.

And yet, on any given day, 25,000 men, women and children die from hunger. Another 1.6 million die every year from poor drinking water. At least a dozen nations are in some stage of war at any given time. AIDS is in epidemic proportions in many African nations. One person dies from AIDS every 15 seconds. Measles kills a million people every year, even though a measles vaccination can be obtained for less than $1.00.  Human rights are trampled upon in much of the world. In the United States, almost 37 million people are on the welfare rolls, and we still have soldiers on the battle line in at least three countries. Many countries view the U.S. as the deliverer of democracy with a rifle.  Even in the information age, poverty and war remain familiar companions to our society.

So, where do we find wisdom? Is it in our elected leaders, or the stock market, or our personal banker? Sadly, we have many resources to inform us of the state of the world, but few who advocate the true road to wisdom. Often, we draw upon the wisdom of the world in which we live and work to get our answers about what to do with our time, and our talents, and our money. Is there wisdom in this approach?

1^st Corinthians is a letter from the apostle Paul to the Corinthian Christians. There is more Pauline correspondence to Corinth than to any other place. Corinth was multi-ethnic, multi-racial and cross-cultural. In other words, it was a lot like a modern U.S. city. The Pauline letters to the church in Corinth have much in common with issues in the church today. Paul had come to Corinth from Athens, where he had tried philosophical arguments to make his point. He was unsuccessful. In fact, he was run out of town. He changed his tactics in Corinth. By his own words, he preached “Christ crucified” [1:22].  In other words, he relied on Christ’s message to put the right thoughts in his head and the right words in his mouth.

 In today’s Scripture, Paul writes a message to the members of the new church in Corinth. Although almost two thousand years have elapsed since he set pen in hand, his advice to the church is still as timely as it was in the first century.

Paul says this: “We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing” [v.6]. Paul reminds us that worldly wisdom is virtually useless to us when trying to discern the ways of the Spirit. He goes on to say that this “wisdom” is hidden, secret to God, revealed only from God, and only to those who believe. If one does not hear through the Spirit of God, then one cannot hear the message… or gain the wisdom, of the Spirit.

Now, doesn’t that sound like circular reasoning? If you don’t believe in God, then you can’t get the message. If you can’t get the message, you can’t become wise in the Spirit. If you can’t acquire Spiritual wisdom, how can you deal with this world spiritually? If you can’t deal with this world spiritually, how can you really say that you believe in God?

Paul’s answer is deceptively simple. Believe in God, and seek the truths of the Spirit in order to find Spiritual wisdom and direction.

So how can you come to believe in God when you are raised not in heaven but in this flawed world? Again, Paul’s answer is simple: Believe in God and seek His face. How? God will give you what you need to seek Him. God has already equipped every one of us with the grace required to seek Him, with the heart necessary to find Him, with the Word written to reveal Him. What do we have to do? Listen. Christian wisdom comes not from human discovery, but from divine disclosure.

 Watch or read the news or listen to it on the radio, and you read or hear about the issues of the country from the media. The major issues before us are how to get the economy going again or healthcare reform or illegal immigration or pro-life or pro-choice, to name a few.

Depending upon which political party or which media center or which state they are in at the time, our elected leaders offer us various solutions. No matter who we elect, our problems aren’t going away. Our country has got to get along with the rest of the world because we have become interdependent upon one another, and sadly, it has become out of vogue to look toward divine guidance as a source of direction. The concept of separation of church and state, designed to protect us from a state controlled church, has wrongly become separation of governmental policy from Christian policy.    

The real policy that God’s people should endorse is found in the 21^st chapter of John. Jesus has risen from the grave and has joined the disciples on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias.  Jesus asks Peter three different times if Peter loves Him. Each time Peter says yes. As if to answer Peter on how to show his love, Jesus says three straight times: “Feed my sheep.”

          What was Peter told to do? Feed the hungry, shelter the poor and the widows. These are the mandates of the early church. These are the mandates of Jesus Himself. Jesus never said: Go ye therefore and build buildings. He said “teach all nations.” He never said: And now I am with you, even until the end of worship service. He said “even until the end of this age.” The job of the Church has never changed. It is the same, whether the church has 40 members or 400 or 4000 members. Feed my sheep. Jesus was referring not only to food for the belly, but also food for the soul.  Jesus wed himself to the Church through His disciples in order that they, and we, would feed the world with the Good News of Jesus Christ. That Good News is his life, death, resurrection, ascension to heaven and the saving grace he made freely available to every single one of us.

          “We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing,” says Paul. What is this message of wisdom? “Christ is our righteousness, holiness and redemption” [v.1:30]. Paul says that the only person who can tell us about God is the Spirit of God. This by no means frees us from the responsibility of human effort. If you want to receive the full measure of great teaching, you have to work at it. We must pray to have the mind of Christ, for only when he dwells within us can we deal effectively with the influence of this material world upon our thoughts and our actions. By prayer, by time spent in God’s Word, by cultivating relationships with other Christians, we come to the wisdom that is Christian maturity.

 If, according to Paul, only God’s people can understand Spiritual wisdom, then how do we convey our understanding to others not yet so inclined? Not everyone grows up in church, and even of those who do, the Church has been losing them in record numbers. So how do we talk to people who don’t as yet have the Spiritual wisdom to hear us?  

First, we don’t need to “talk” people into belief in Christ; we need to “live” them into it. Ever tried to make a green bean? Can’t be done. But you can plant bean seeds. And if you do, chances are you’ll have more green beans than you can eat. The harvest belongs to God. Always has. But the planting: now that’s a different story. God has given that task to us, the people of God. In Matthew 5: 16, Jesus says: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

Secondly, we do not know who God’s people are. God created every one of us.  Everyone is a child of God. My job is not to identify. My job is to go, teach and baptize, and that is the job of every Christian.

Do you believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ? Has that belief changed your life? If is hasn’t, you need to seriously re-examine your commitments. If it has, then please, for God’s sake, don’t keep it a secret. Don’t be fooled by our material world. Wisdom is much, much more than knowledge. Walk the walk. Plant the seeds.  That, brothers and sisters, is Spiritual wisdom.

The Mighty Mite (Mark 12; 39-44) 11/11/12

In the 1950’s and ‘60’s, one of the most beloved super heroes on Saturday morning television was an animated character produced by Terrytoons. He was about as small as one could get, but he could fly and he could fight. His name was Mighty Mouse. The theme song started out “Here I come to save the day. That means that Mighty Mouse is on the way.” Mighty Mouse was a mouse; he was tiny; he was a cartoon character. But I watched that little guy take on the bad guys over and over. He never quit and he never lost. That little cartoon mouse was a serious role model for me. It always fascinated me that something so small could possess so much power. Such is the lesson to be learned from Jesus’ teaching in Mark 12 about the scribes and the widow.

Walking through the grounds of the temple in Jerusalem, Jesus is engaging the Pharisees and scribes on a number of subjects. A scribe questions Jesus about the greatest commandment. Jesus tells the scribe about love of God and neighbor. Then Jesus turns to the subject of kingdom behavior. To make his point, he tells two stories. Each is instructive about true Godly leadership; true Godly obedience.

Jesus first warns those who would listen to beware of the scribes. Jesus says they walk around in long robes that prevent them from working, that they sit in the best seats in the synagogue, in the places of honor at feasts, that they devour widow’s houses, that they make long prayers for the pretense of being important. This is quite an indictment.  The scribes are among the best educated religious people in Israel and yet Jesus says to be wary of them. Notice that Jesus does not condemn all the scribes. Indeed, he has just complimented a scribe in the previous passage for being not that far from the kingdom of heaven. But for those who practice the kind of behavior to which Jesus is calling attention, Jesus says that they will receive the greater condemnation.

It was typical of the time for scribes to wear long, flowing robes which swept the ground. This was the sign of importance. You can’t hurry or work when your clothing is dragging the ground. The same kind of thing is true for the seats of honor which the scribes demanded. On the right hand of the host at dinner. Up front in a place of prominence at the synagogue. Everything said “Look at me. I’m important.” The charge about the widow’s houses is also mentioned by the Jewish historian Josephus, in connection with the Pharisees’ taking advantage of gullible widows and literally taking over their homes. They were Rabbis, and they conveyed the thought that nothing could be more rewarding than to put up and feed a man of God so that he could concentrate on his studies.

So Jesus says beware. Beware of those who would have you believe they are men of God. His indictment says look to their behavior. Do they act like men of God? He has only just finished talking about the greatest commandments. Then he turns his attention to the so-called religious leaders of the nation, and he says watch out. Do these men act with love? What is their real motive? The loudest prayers and the slowest walkers and the people always up front are not necessarily who they say they are. They are using religion for self-advancement. They are using their religious connections for personal gain. This is not the kind of leadership or example that Jesus teaches.

Then Jesus takes a seat in the courtyard. He is people-watching. I love to do that, don’t you? You can learn so much if you camp out on a park bench or sit on a towel on the sand at the beach. It’s better than going to the movies.  Jesus does it in the temple courtyard.  William Barclay says that Jesus was probably sitting at a place called the Gate Beautiful, a spot between the Court of the Gentiles, where he had been speaking, and the Court of the Women. This makes good sense, because Mark describes a donation being made by a woman. Both men and women were allowed in the Court of the Women, but this is where women would have made their donations. The temple treasury was also located there, and there were thirteen different trumpet-shaped boxes used for collecting those donations.   

While Jesus watches, many rich people are coming by and making large contributions.  Then Jesus spots a woman making a donation. She is a widow, and she is obviously poor. She puts in two mites, or two copper coins, the value of which is about a half of a penny.  We know this as the story of the Widow’s Mite.

How powerful! Less than a penny, and Jesus calls over his disciples to tell them of this major contribution, for the widow has given all that she had. The widow didn’t hold back anything. While others gave from their excess, the widow gave from her essence. The smallest gift became packed with power.

In this story, the final incident in Jesus’ public ministry, we can clearly see a foreshadowing of what Jesus was about to do for us. The widow gave all she had for her Lord; Jesus gave all he had for humankind. Mark uses a poor widow to make his point, that it’s not the market value of the gift, but rather the cost to the donor, that counts.

Today, we come to donate not only our tithes and offerings, but also shoeboxes—shoeboxes filled with socks and shoes and pencils and tee shirts and school supplies. To that will be added a little tract called “The Greatest Gift of All.” The booklet will tell the story of Jesus and his love for all of us. It will tell how he died for us; how he gave all that he had for us. Operation Christmas Child is a Christian effort to reach those who have nothing. They can relate to the widow better than we can. The shoeboxes we have packed will find their way to countries and villages we have never heard of, to children we will never see. But God will. God will count the smiles that this effort reaches, the lives that it touches. These gifts that seem so small are packed with God’s power.

The cost for Jesus was supreme. There was nothing held back. Today on this day that we remember those who have served our country, some with the last full measure of devotion, it is a day to also remember the cost of giving that our Lord spent for us. Today as we celebrate this truly American holiday commemorating harder times survived and thanking God for our abundance, it is also a day to remember that it is not that way for many of our fellow man all over our world. They not only do not have the abundance; they lack the very necessities we have come to take for granted; plentiful food, warmth and shelter, basic nutrition, running water, sanitation.  It is a day to understand how mighty even a widow’s mite can be…when given at the cost she paid.

While we carve the Thanksgiving turkey and dine on the dressing and all the other trappings of our feast, let us give pause to remember why we filled those shoeboxes and where they are headed. Let us give pause to remember the sentry walking his post, the sailor standing his watch, the airman doing the maintenance. Let us give pause to remember the might of the widow’s gift, the cost of salvation to our Lord…and the power of love that each of us has been given to give away. Let us all find the power of God that lies within us, and let that be our gift to our Lord this day…and every day. 

It's Not That Far (Mark 12: 28-34) 11/4/12

             It’s Not That Far

               Mark 12: 28-34

          In the Sinai desert at the base of the mountain, Moses assembled the people of Israel. He had been on the mountain for several days communing with God and came down bearing the tablets of the Law. The people had sent him up the mountain because they were afraid to hear the voice of the Lord. So Moses went for them. After reading them the Ten Commandments, Moses says “Hear, O Israel.” What comes next is known as the Shema, from the Hebrew meaning “Hear.” The Shema says this: “The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart” You can find these words in the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy (6: 4, 5).

          The 19^th chapter of Leviticus is a call to Holiness and refers often to the Ten Commandments. In verse 18, it is said that “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”

          Both of these statements are directed to God’s people of the Exodus, the nation of Israel. In the intervening years from the Exodus to the life of Jesus, about 1200 to 1400 years depending on which scholar is doing the counting, the Jewish leadership managed to turn the Ten Commandments into 613 laws, 365 negative and 248 positive. The Pharisees of Jesus’ time were the proud guardians of those laws. They were the meticulous observers of each and every law. The scribes, those entrusted with the interpretation and writing of the law, were also involved in this observation of ritual legalism. No wonder that even among a sea of questions designed to trap Jesus, a scribe would come forward with a legitimate question. What’s the most important? In a book full of laws, which is the one that surpasses the rest?

          Others had a similar idea. David recited eleven precepts in Psalm 15, from walking blamelessly to not taking a bribe.  Isaiah cut the list to six (Is 33:15) and later to two (Is 56: 1). Micah is my personal favorite. His list of three included to “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly before your Lord.” (Mi 6: 8). And Habakkuk said simply: “The righteous shall live by faith” (Ha 2: 4).  But in the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus quotes Deuteronomy and Leviticus, calling them the Great Commandments (Mk 12: 28-34, Mt 22: 34-40, Lk 10: 25-28).

Does it take 613 laws to follow God? Hardly! Jesus didn’t negate the law of the Old Testament. He told us that he came not to do away with it, but to fulfill it. But Jesus wasn’t talking about 613 regulations designed by men as interpretation of what it takes to be obedient to God. Jesus knew full well the law of God and how to be obedient to its spirit. What Jesus did in our passage today was to prioritize the law. Love the Lord with all you have and love your neighbor as yourself.

Martin Luther put it this way: “Love God, and do as you please.” Could it possibly be that simple? Of course it can. It’s mankind which makes it hard to follow God. God’s law couldn’t be more simple. But simple is not the same as easy. In his blueprint for mankind, God chose to make us in his image. In the bundle of gifts that go with that design, he included free will. After all, that’s part of his image, too. Free will in the garden meant the ability to turn away just as much as it allowed Adam and Eve to follow. They chose to disobey, and here we are. We are still making those choices, still flexing our disobedience. In our God-instilled consciences, we reach out to him, make laws and erect traffic lights to regulate ourselves. In our God-breathed free will, we turn our backs on him, on our families, his church, our fellow man. Following God’s law couldn’t be more simple, but easy? No.

Ever been on the way to church and passed a car in distress, only to keep on going? Stopping to help would make you late for church and you have to teach. Ever stood in front of church and watched some one walk down the sidewalk looking hungry, homeless and lost? Maybe you thought about helping, about inviting him or her in, but she would probably just say no. And what would you do with her after church? The kingdom of heaven is beautiful, but planet earth is just plain messy.

In John Bunyan’s great classic, Pilgrim’s Progress, our hero Christian embarks on a journey from his home (earth), to the Celestial City (heaven). He is seeking deliverance from the sin he discovered about himself by reading the Bible. Along the way, Mr. Worldly Wiseman and Mr. Legality divert Christian from his path, persuading him that he will find his deliverance through the Law. Christian barely escapes the crushing burden of the law, being pulled back on the right path just in time by Evangelist.  Back on the King’s Highway, it is Goodwill who directs Christian down the straight and narrow path to the Celestial City. It should come as no surprise that Goodwill turns out to be none other than Christ himself.

It’s not that far, you see. If you walk down the straight and narrow and listen to and obey the urging of Goodwill, you will be on the King’s Highway, and it is a much more level climb to the top. Like the Pilgrim of John Bunyan, you too will find deliverance at the Cross of Calvary. Just like that Christian of old, you will climb the Hill of Difficulty, pass through the Valley of the Shadow and have many other experiences on your way to the Holy City. Hopefully, like Bunyan’s Christian, you will find the House Beautiful, which is the church, and there you will find fellowship and comfort in your pilgrimage. You will learn to turn away from would-be friends like Ignorance, who would have you to believe that good deeds are enough to get you to heaven, only to arrive without a passport and be turned away.

If Christian’s character sounds familiar, he should. He is the allegorical Everyman of literature. We all have hills to climb and valleys to cross and rivers to ford. But in the twelfth chapter of Mark, Jesus points us to the King’s Highway. “…and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” Live by that rule and the kingdom of heaven will be close enough to touch.

Jesus added another commandment. I think the love of neighbor is implicit in the first commandment to love God. I expect that Jesus thought so too. So why did he add it? I think he did it to clarify that which was commanded in Leviticus. In that Old Testament command, it was directed to the people of Israel. “You shall not take vengeance…against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus removes the condition about one’s own people. He says simply: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” No restrictions, no conditions.  With Jesus, the question is not who your neighbor is, but who your neighbor isn’t. He doesn’t limit his interpretation of the commandment. And neither should we.

Can you see the King’s Highway now? Look for the road signs. They are in the eyes of the people you meet. They are in the open hands you present to them. They are in the hugs and embraces you give to them and in the time you take with them. This is worth much more than all the burnt offerings and sacrifices the scribe could make. This is worth much more than all the tithes and offerings you will ever make.

God’s kingdom is not just where you end up. It’s in the journey, too. Don’t work for your reward. You can’t earn it. Instead, experience the journey. Let grace be your watchword, both in how you extend a helping hand and in what you hope for in return. Make your pilgrimage be a kingdom experience. “And when Jesus saw that the scribe answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not that far from the kingdom of God.”

Let us pray.     11/4/12

Satan's Curse or God's Caress? (2 Cor. 12: 7-10, Job 2: 7-10) 10/28/12

A neighbor of mine spent 45 years as a paraplegic. The accident happened when she was returning from a beach trip following her high school graduation with distinction. She was on the way to college. Her little sister was in the same van and wasn’t hurt. A church friend lost his only child to drug related suicide and his only granddaughter to a fatal auto accident at the age of 14. Famous people are not exempt. The actor Christopher Reeves, in the prime of his life, took a tumble on a horseback ride, and spent the rest of his life as a quadriplegic. Why is that? Why do such bad things happen to such good people?

           It happens to us as well. I’m betting that you, or your brother, or sister or mother or cousin or friend…have been there. When I was sixteen, my wonderful mother went into deep depression. Over the next 18 months, she spent 12 of them in a mental institution. My father lived in denial to get through it all. He coped by diving into his work. Since I was the oldest still at home, I became the head of the household by default. Why is that? What did I do to deserve that? What did my mother do to have to undergo such an experience?

            When you see someone at the bottom or you think that maybe you yourself are going there, it’s a very scary place, not just for the one who suffers, but also for the caregiver involved. It will change the way you look at life. It will change the way you live it.

          The Bible is full of such stories. Two of the most familiar are about Job in the Old Testament and Paul in the New Testament. Let’s take a few moments to look at these two men, as well as Sarah, Ruth and Barnabus, three of the caregivers in the Bible. Each has a story to tell us about why bad things happen to good people.

          First, the Scripture.  Several books and part of the Psalms comprise a collection of Old Testament books commonly known as wisdom literature. Prominent among this small collection is the Book of Job, a story of a righteous man upon whom Satan is loosed with God’s consent. Satan visits a series of misfortunes upon Job, any one of which would destroy most people. As Job labors under the strain of devastating loss, from fortune to family to health, he perseveres in his faith. His righteous example is held up for all to see. In Chapter 2, after having already lost virtually everything, he is beset with boils. He scrapes his skin with a flat stone, continually re-opening the wounds. His wife, who has “had it”, challenges him: “Are you still holding on to your integrity?” she asks. And she follows with: “Curse God and die!” Job responds: “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?”

          In the 12^th chapter of Second Corinthians, the great apostle Paul refers to a thorn in his flesh. He says that on three different occasions, he prayed that he would be delivered from this unknown, but terrible, affliction. God’s answer is to rely on His grace; that God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Let’s say that one again. God’s power is made perfect in our weakness.

 In the days of the patriarchs, God is described as coming down to earth for occasional visits. On one such occasion, God, apparently accompanied by two angels, comes to see Abraham. He promises that Abraham will be the father of nations. He promises that Sarah will have a son. Sarah, now ninety years old, overhears the conversation and laughs out loud. Indeed, at the birth of their son the next year, the child is named Isaac, which means “laughter.” But the upshot of Abraham’s faith is that Sarah, at ninety years of age, sustains a pregnancy and begins rearing this child promised by God. Abraham gets the fame; Sarah gets the morning sickness, the labor of pregnancy and childbirth. Sarah is one of many caregivers in the Bible.

 Ruth is a beautiful but widowed Moabite woman. Naomi, her mother in law, is Jewish. Naomi outlives her sons, ande is forced to return to her homeland of Judah, as she is penniless and must live at the mercy of her family of origin. She releases her daughters in law to remain in Moab, but Ruth protests. She pledges to stay at Naomi’s side, even though it means going to a foreign country. In chapter 1, Ruth utters the words so familiar to us now: “Where you go I will go and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”

          And then there is Barnabus, perhaps my favorite among the Bible’s caregivers. Barnabus traveled with Paul on their first missionary journey. Embarking from Antioch, they went to the island of Cyprus and on to the province of Galatia.  A young John Mark accompanied them, but left them in Perga to return home for reasons we do not know. The always opinionated Paul was not happy about this turn of events. Upon their return, Paul and Barnabus went to Jerusalem to make their case to the Church leaders there. Paul needed Barnabus, who was highly respected, to help make their case, as Paul’s credibility in Jerusalem was not yet sufficient. Paul and Barnabus got the recognition and approval they sought. Yet on the next missionary journey, Paul dismissed Barnabus because Barnabus wanted John Mark to go with them again. So they went their separate ways.

Why do bad things happen to good people? How can some people continue to give and give, facing nothing but thankless praise, empty promises or rejection from the very persons to whom they bring care? Why does God put you in a place where you have some control over your life and then uproot you to start over somewhere else with something or someone entirely different? You’re not going to get the final answer to any of these questions today, but maybe you will get some amplification on the subject that will help you grapple with these age old questions.

          Paul says “there was given me a thorn in the flesh,” implying that God is the giving agent. He describes his affliction as “a messenger of Satan to torment” him. This is not unlike what God allowed to happen to Job. Whether God sends the problem or just doesn’t stop Satan from his delivery, we don’t always know. Sometimes I think our Creator just picks righteous men and women from our midst and holds them up as examples to the rest of us. At the end of the day, it is the learning, the spiritual maturity and the trust that counts, not whether the event is God inspired or Satan sent. Regardless of the origin, the outcome for the believer is ultimately the illumination of God’s power and grace. From each experience, our trust in God grows. As Paul says, take delight in the hardships, for when you are weak, you are made strong through God’s grace.

  “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” asks Job. My neighbor would say you have to accept both. In an adult life lived as a paraplegic, she learned to do tax returns and worked from home, volunteered regularly at the hospital, drove a car and still remained a caregiver to her aging parents. She died not too long ago after a life of giving and caring for others. She would not describe herself as handicapped.

“Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” My church friend would say you should accept both. With God’s help, he has risen above family tragedy. He says humbly that the death of his granddaughter at such a young age has probably had more influence on her peers than her life may have had. Even now, young men and women flock to a website to remember her and to remark how they have been touched in some positive way by an encounter with her. My friend works faithfully to cook meals for church events and knows God more personally and deeply than ever before.

Christopher and Dana Reeves would say we must accept both. Christopher ultimately died as a result of his severed spinal cord, and Dana from lung cancer though she had not smoked for years. But after Reeve’s injury, those two set the world on fire with their achievements in the field of spinal cord injuries. Even now, the foundation they started continues to raise money and awareness to sponsor medical research in that field.  

“Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” Look at the lives of Job and Sarah, Ruth and Barnabus. Nations have sprung from that one seed that Sarah bore. As surely as Abraham is the father of those nations, so Sarah is the mother. You know the rest of Ruth’s story. She journeys to Judah, works in the fields, meets and ultimately marries Boaz. Naomi is provided for and Ruth becomes one of the matriarchs in the genealogy of Jesus. And what about Barnabus?  At the end of Paul’s life, it is faithful Barnabus who is there with Paul giving him aid and comfort. I get the feeling that Barnabus was always there for Paul, even though Paul was often so intense that he didn’t realize all that Barnabus meant to him and his ministry.

“Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” asks Job. It is a question for each of us to answer in our own hearts. I can tell you this from personal experience. I have learned that I need all that God sends. That time I spent as a teenager with a mentally ill mother is still hard for me to talk about. It was sometimes embarrassing, always lonely, often just plain scary. But church friends and one high school teacher found me, checked on me, put their arms around me, and I found meaning in the saying that “it takes a village to raise a child” I began to experience God’s grace at work in me.

Years later, other events were to come my way that would make that time pale in comparison, and I was destined to learn in a very personal way that God does not move. It is we who are like the tide, ever ebbing and flowing. We are the ones that move. Sometimes, as in Paul’s case, a “thorn” comes along and can help prevent spiritual conceit. Sometimes, God will vaccinate us with a misfortune or misstep in order to immunize us from a future and otherwise paralyzing blow. And sometimes, I think, God will use us precisely because of the good we can do others by remaining people of faith through trials and adversity.

For 33 years, He walked among us. He ate our food, drank our wine, toiled and labored under the same sun. For 3 years, He told us who He was and why He had come. He never sinned. He did good to everyone with whom He came in contact.  One fateful night, He went into a garden and prayed, and He prayed the same prayer you and I have prayed before. Deliver me, He prayed. Don’t make me go there. But in the end, he prayed one more line, “Not my will, but thy will be done,” He said. Less than twenty four hours later, they took His speared and spent body down from a Calvary cross and handed it over to a few broken hearted women for burial. They collected His body, but they could not break the immortal seal of His soul, for He was already atoning for the sins of all for all time. It was the ransom that bought and paid for you and me. And the gates of Hell could not hold Him. He rose and he lives today and forever.

Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble? Jesus is our model. He came for trouble. He asked for trouble. And when trouble sought and found Him, He did what you and I must do today. He placed Himself squarely in the hands of God and said, “Thy will be done.”  What followed changed the course of history.

So when Satan decides you’re looking a little too close to God and throws temptation in your way, or when God decides to work on your character or just to use you to testify for Him through your life, let it come. God may test you, but He will never tempt you. Satan may send the curse, but it is the caress of God Himself that you will ultimately experience. It won’t be easy, and you will shed some tears. But God will not send more to you than you can bear, and He will remain right at your side. God’s overarching providence always produces good, even from evil.

It has been said that God is not nearly so concerned with our comfort as He is with our character. Character is not a DNA thing. You aren’t born with it. You have to earn your stripes. Good character is most often forged in the fire of adversity and hammered into shape in the hands of experience. In the process, and in our weakness, God’s awesome power and love can be reflected in the likeness that emerges. And what an awesome reflection that can be. You just won’t believe how strong and beautiful that reflection might become.