Do You Want To Be Healed?

                                                John 5: 1-18

          Well, if this wasn’t the craziest day! Joe and I went to get Will again this morning. We took him down to rehab. He wasn’t ready when we got there to pick him up. He doesn’t much care whether he goes or not.  I can’t say that I blame him. Year after year of rehab with no progress, nothing to show for it. He just sits there. He doesn’t try anymore. It’s like the light has gone out in his soul. He just passes the time. One day rolls into another. The days turn into months and the months into years.

          Jesus was back in Jerusalem for another feast. We don’t know which feast, but that’s not important. He was at a place called Bethesda, where there is a pool by the Sheep Gate. Invalids of all kinds gathered there, waiting for the pool to stir. When it did, they all clamored to get to it first. Legend had it that angels stirred that pool and that when they did, the first to enter it would be healed. It was one of those local legends that probably wasn’t true, but when you’re crippled or blind, you hang on to what holds out a little hope.

          It was just a freak accident. Joe and Will were at my house, We were shooting hoops, playing two on one. I drove for a layup and Will went up to block. We fell with me on top. Will couldn’t get up. The doctors never could say for sure why he never walked again. His spinal cord was okay. But that was so long ago. Now we are middle aged and Will has never walked. I feel guilty to this day. I guess that’s why Joe and I still take him to rehab.

          Jesus saw a man, an invalid. John doesn’t tell us the specific type of illness, but we know the man couldn’t walk. He had been that way for 38 years. That’s a long time in any age. In Jesus’ time, an average life span was barely in the forties, so this man had been an invalid for most of his life. Jesus asked the man a question: “Do you want to be healed?”

          I have thought many times that something is missing in Will. Who knows why he couldn’t walk in the beginning. That was a long time ago. He suffered a big trauma and for a while, it was understandable. But then it kept going. And he got weaker and weaker until finally, his legs were too weak to hold him up even if he could walk. At first, he seemed to try. At first, he seemed to want to get well. But after a while, he changed. He just didn’t seem to have any motivation. He got where he just didn’t believe anymore that he was worth healing.

          The man at the pool was almost condescending to Jesus. He explained woodenly that he could never get to the pool first, so he would never have a chance to be healed. Jesus said: “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” At once, the man did as he was told. He just got up and walked away. The healing took place on the Sabbath, and the Jews saw him carrying his bed, which was prohibited. The Jews had thirty nine Sabbath prohibitions and one of them was carrying a burden. Carrying a pallet was a burden, just like carrying a needle in your robe. This was sin. It was potentially punishable by stoning, so the man defended himself. He said he just did what the healer had told him to do.

          A woman has been visiting Will at rehab. She is a Christian volunteer. I’ve met her. She’s not a minister, but she seems very dedicated. She’s been coming to see Will for months. She is so patient and so faithful. She is always telling Will about how God loves him more than he knows. You can see her faith in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

          The man was questioned by the Jewish leaders. He didn’t even know who healed him. He never said thank you, never indicated any kind of faith. Later, Jesus found him in the temple area. He told the man to go and sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to him. As a thank you, the man went to the Jews to identify Jesus to them. In John 9, a thankful blind man defends Jesus to the authorities. Not here. The man turned in Jesus as though he were a criminal. This fella never got it. He was selfish, dull and lucky. But the story was never about him, anyway.

          Well, I said that today was the craziest day, because of what happened. Joe and I dropped off Will at rehab and got him situated. Then we left to do a few errands. We didn’t come back for a couple hours. When we did, we found Will sitting in a chair. That wasn’t so unusual, but the smile on his face was something I hadn’t seen for years. His friend was there. She was smiling too. It was so obvious that something big had happened.  I asked what was going on. Will looked at Joe and me, and then he used his arms to brace himself on the chair. In the next minute, I saw my friend standing up for the first time since we were kids. His legs were very weak and he didn’t last long, but he stood up. He even took a couple steps.

          Joe and I were so astonished that we couldn’t speak for a minute. Finally, one of us managed to ask what had happened. Will just looked at his faithful Christian friend and said that she had gotten him to understand that if he really wanted to be healed, he should trust God and wait for the answer. Today was the day when the answer came.

The doctor had been in and mumbled something about psychosomatic injury, and the woman had just laughed out loud. She had looked at the doctor and told him that Will had to learn that he wanted to be healed for God to act in his behalf.

          John’s story of the healing of the invalid at Bethesda had the same ending for the invalid as it did for my friend Will. As least, that is the physical outcome. Actually, the stories are quite different. My story about my friend Will is completely fictional, while the story of the invalid at Bethesda is true. It is Gospel.

The story about Will invites us all to participate in the kingdom by trusting the power of God to do that which we as humans can never do alone, even to the point of a physical miracle. That is a great story. In the end, Will trusted Jesus. He wanted to be healed in his heart and he dared to hope for physical healing to come as well. His faith helped to bring about that healing.

The story about the invalid healed by Jesus is also a great story, even greater than the one about Will, because the invalid is not our favorite character. Even the most charitable reading of that miracle shows the man to be full of despair and incapable of even a thank you. He is selfish, thoughtless and a tattletale. And yet, he is healed of his physical problems. The real story is that the power and authority of Jesus Christ is so “over the top” of human existence that when Jesus commands us to get up, we get up! When he tells us to walk, our legs will work even if they have not been used for decades! That is the real story of the healing of the man at the pool. And it reminds us of another Johanine story, that of the healing of the ten lepers. Remember? All ten were healed, that is all ten were made physically whole. But only one was made well, and he, a Samaritan, the least likely of the group just like the man at the pool. Here, the invalid is not only seen and healed physically by Jesus; he also is later sought out and found by Jesus, who reminds him that he has a second chance, that what can happen as a result of his sin can make the days of being an invalid look like a walk in the park. Even after his physical healing, Jesus is warning him, caring for him, reminding him that he still has to want to be healed to benefit fully from his encounter with the Master.

The fictional story of Will is our model, for we do not want to be the man at the pool. His lot was cast by his despair until Jesus used him to prove a point…that the power of God exceeds all human conditions and limitations, even faith. But Will is our model, for he wanted to be healed. Will came to see the truth of believing faith, and in that faith a miracle was granted.

Do you want to be healed? That is always the question. That is the issue pressing on every decision, large and small, of those who would be saved. Do you want to be healed? The answer to that question is the answer to our lives and our destinies. Sometimes we are lucky enough that the question comes as clearly as it did for our friend Will. Most times, it is much more subtle. Don’t be fooled by the difference. The stakes are the same.

Do you want to be healed? The question came from Jesus himself. The answer must come for you.

Laboring In Samaria

                                          John 4: 5-42

          There are great moments in history, moments frozen in our memories, indelible because of the electricity they generated or the impact they had. Everyone has such moments. Many are common to us. Some are intensely personal. Let me share a few of my moments with you as you think of your own.

          One of my earliest memories is watching a TV program where FDR was announcing the attack of Pearl Harbor, then the footage of the USS Arizona on fire in the harbor. Another was “the catch,” when Willie Mays caught a ball over his shoulder in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series. The two world events etched in my memory are John Kennedy’s assassination in 1963 and the 9/11 terrorist actions in 2001.

There are more for me as there are more for you, but you get my point. There are moments in our lives when something happens, either to our community or nation or to ourselves personally, that change our lives, that re-point our destiny, that influence the way we will come to every thing else in our lives.

          Now…imagine that you are living in first century Samaria. You are a woman, no longer young but not yet old. You live in a man’s world where you are barely a step above the sheep and cattle that the men around you own. You have not been lucky in love or marriage. You have had multiple marriages—five in fact—in a society which frowns on divorce or remarriage. Now you are living with a man. He won’t even marry you. Your future is uncertain. Your present is just as precarious. You own nothing and have nothing but the clothes on your back. You live in a land where women have little value.

          Even your religion is of little consolation to you. You are one of the half-breeds of God’s people. You are a descendant of Abraham, but you are not a Jew. You are a Samaritan. God’s chosen will not even talk to you. To the Jews, there was nothing lower than a Samaritan except one thing…a Samaritan woman.

          There have been no moments for you. No home runs or wedding feasts or other celebrations. There has just been one piece of bad luck after another. Here you are in the middle of your life hanging on to a man who does not even respect you enough to marry you.

          So one day, you gather yourself to do the same old chores you do every day. You walk to the town well to gather water. You have been there before today, but now it is mid afternoon and you need water to prepare the evening meal. As you approach the well, you see a man. He is standing there by himself. He is obviously not a Samaritan. You assume him to be a Jew. You prepare for the shunning that is surely about to follow. But instead, he asks you to draw him a drink. This is shocking. For a Samaritan to serve a Jew is to render the Jew “unclean.” As you engage carefully in conversation without yet acting, he begins to talk to you about living water.

          Are you there? Are you standing at Jacob’s well, talking with this total stranger? In the heat and dust of the day, he is less concerned about his thirst and more concerned about yours. Who is this man?

          Jesus had been in Judea, in Jerusalem, for Passover and was ready to return to Galilee. There was really no reasonable way to get from the one to the other without passing through Samaria. While this is a geographical fact, it is also a God-moment for the gospel of John. In Chapter 3, we are introduced to Nicodemus, a Jew to whom Jesus witnesses. Late in Chapter 4 and again in Chapter 12, we will see Jesus dealing with Gentiles who approach. Here, in between those narratives, we find Jesus witnessing to a Samaritan woman. That pretty much covers the field. It’s hard not to catch John’s theme of mission, and mission to all who will hear, regardless of their race or station in life.

          You are a woman standing at the well and this stranger tells you that if you just knew who you were talking to, you could have living water…that you would never be thirsty again. You look at him more intently. Who is this man? You ask him for the water and he tells you to go call your husband. You answer that you have no husband. Then he tells you things about yourself that he cannot possibly know, and yet he does. Where does this supernatural knowledge come from?

           Here John’s narrative takes a new turn, for unlike Nicodemus, who could not seem to grasp what and who Jesus was, this woman with no pedigree says that she perceives Jesus to be a prophet. She is already way ahead of Nicodemus.  She questions Jesus about the proper place of worship. Is it a sacred mountain? Is it the temple?

          Jesus says neither. He says worship is not a physical setting, but rather a place in the heart. He says those who would worship God must do so in spirit and in truth, and that occurs from the inside out, not from an address.  

          The woman listens. Something inside her is quickening. This man is so different. He reminds her of hope she thought was lost, of faith misplaced, of a time when she could smile and look forward to the day. She is emboldened, and speaks of Messiah, of how he will know all things. Her heart is alive. This woman is about to have one of those moments we were talking about.

          “Jesus said to her, I who speak to you am he.” She is frozen. Are you? What if you are there? Feel the moment. What have you just heard?

          Just then, the disciples return. They marvel at what they see, but say nothing. The woman goes into town. She doesn’t even take her water jar. She doesn’t go to her home or to find her man. She goes to the townspeople. Jesus has witnessed and the woman becomes his witness. She will not call her husband. Instead, she calls the whole village. She tells them that he had told her everything that she had ever done. Her amazement is obvious. She asks: “Can this be the Christ?” The people go to see.

You know the rest of the story. People came. Jesus stayed with them for two more days. What started out as belief because of the testimony of another became belief because of personal conviction. The woman’s plaintiff question “Could he be the Christ?” turns into a village’s testimony that “this is indeed the Savior of the World.”

It was a God-moment for the woman at the well.  Her testimony: He told me everything I’d ever done…was the watershed event in her life. She witnessed to it and became the herald for a whole village. Jesus works like that. Whether it’s a woman at a well or a kid with a few fish, Jesus calls us to witness, to plant the seeds. Jesus said to his disciples: “the fields are white with harvest.” We also have been sent. We are his witnesses. Like Jesus, our “food is to do the will of him who sent us and to accomplish his work.”

The labor continues until he returns. This is our mission. It can be done anywhere…in far away Samarias, in living rooms close by…in churches like this one. Like the woman at the well, we need to enter into God’s labor.

Born Again

                                          John 3: 1-15

In the third chapter of John’s gospel, Nicodemus meets Jesus, and probably not by chance, for Nicodemus seeks out Jesus at night. They engage in a strange and wonderful discourse that reminds us that to think and talk of things of the kingdom of heaven is to wander in a place in which we have no experience. It is a place where we come on faith. Even the faith which brings us there is not of our own making.

Nicodemus is mentioned only three times in John’s gospel. In John 7, people are coming before the Sanhedrin and asking about Jesus. As he is being roundly condemned, Nicodemus speaks up and asks why Jesus should not be given audience to see what he has to say. Later in John 19, Nicodemus shows up with seventy five pounds of myrrh and aloe—about three thousand dollars worth of valuable spices and gums, to use in the preparation of Jesus’ crucified body. Then there is the first and most important reference, the meeting with Jesus here in John 3.

Nicodemus was a Pharisee. There were only about six thousand Pharisees in all of Israel. Pharisees were hard core religious. They had to vow publicly to live by all the laws of God. Then they set out to do just that. The Pharisees, whether or not they were misguided, were the most devout believers of God in the entire nation.

Nicodemus was not only a Pharisee; he was also a member of the Sanhedrin. Think of this as the supreme religious court of Israel.1  Even in the days of Roman rule, the Sanhedrin possessed great power. Composed of only seventy members, it had jurisdiction over every Jew in the world. One of its responsibilities was to determine false prophets, and it was for this reason the Sanhedrin became so interested in Jesus. People were calling Jesus not only a prophet but the prophet, maybe even the long promised Messiah. The Jewish leaders had heard and seen such things before, and Jesus was more than likely just one more in a long line of frauds.

And yet here fairly early in Jesus’ ministry, it is Nicodemus the Supreme Court justice who shows up in the dead of night to seek an audience with the young carpenter from Galilee.  He wants to find out for himself what all the buzz is about. Why does Nicodemus come to Jesus in the darkness? Perhaps he comes then because it is the only time that two busy men can have a real conversation without being constantly interrupted. Perhaps it is because many rabbis studied law at night. Probably it is because Nicodemus does not want to be seen with Jesus in the light of day. He wants to avoid the publicity that would come with it.  

At this point in John’s gospel, only one of Jesus’ miracles has been mentioned. But Nicodemus says that Jesus must come from God, as no once else could do the signs he has done. Nicodemus is speaking in the plural,  so apparently Jesus has performed a number of mighty acts and signs. Nicodemus gives him credit for this. That is not to say that Nicodemus thinks of Jesus as the Son of God. As we will see from Jesus’ own comments to him, he just does not have the tools to make such an observation. Not yet, at any rate.

And yet, Nicodemus does come looking. For all the honors that have been bestowed upon him, for all the wealth and comforts that he has amassed, for all the respect that he enjoys among his people, he comes looking for answers. In that curiosity, that unsettling desire to know the truth, probably lay the difference between Nicodemus and most of the Sanhedrin.

The parties are polite. Respectfully, Nicodemus refers to Jesus as Rabbi. Jesus refers to Nicodemus as the teacher of Israel, which acknowledges his high office. Nicodemus then gets right to the heart of the matter. The things Jesus is doing can only be done if God is with him, so how can Jesus be doing them?

Jesus answers Nicodemus’ thoughts, not his words. Jesus says we have to be born again to see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus is spiritually blind. Until his spiritual eyes are opened, he will reach and reach…and still, he will not grasp the truth. Jesus reminds him that talking about things that come from heaven is hard to do for people who have never been there. Jesus has come from heaven. His unspoken point is this: you have to believe that I come from heaven. Those unspoken words hang there in the air, waiting for Nicodemus’ response, waiting for our response. You have to believe to understand. When you understand, your belief will make sense.  When you understand, the water is spiritual and the spirit is earthy and, well, you see, these things are of heaven. You just have to believe.

Contemporary thought gives little credence to that which cannot be empirically proven.  We are losing our ability to see that which is not physical. Contemporary “wisdom” tells us that we must see the evidence or something does not exist. By inference, if something is spiritual, it is not real. First century Israel was little different. Nicodemus says “we know,” and Jesus says: No, you don’t. It is not human reasoning or observation that is required. It is, rather, a rebirth, a transformation, that is required. Jesus says: You speak of what you know. You testify to what you have seen. “But you do not receive our testimony.” Jesus was saying that although he was looking at the Son of God, he could not see. He could not recognize the truth of what he saw and heard. He was the religious leader and he could not see. How sad.

Poor Nicodemus. How are we born again? Nicodemus wants to know. He tries to grasp the principle of rebirth that Jesus is teaching.  Three times, Jesus says to him: “Truly, truly.” Jesus wants him to understand, but sees that the chasm is wide. Jesus waits hoping for the pupil to grasp that which is impossible to hold except on faith.

What is this new birth? The new birth of which Jesus speaks is transformation, not alteration. It not only comes from God; it brings us to God. It is God-breathed. Jesus reminds us that as surely as the wind is real, regardless of the fact that we cannot see it, so is rebirth through the Holy Spirit.

Nicodemus will continue to search. He does not have the tools to understand. But he is in good company. Neither did Jesus’ own disciples. It was only after the resurrection that these men and women could finally fit the puzzle pieces together.  Nicodemus showed up after Jesus’ death. He was around when the news of Jesus’ resurrection spread. Though we do not know, I suspect that Nicodemus may well have been one of that number who came to understand the truth through transformational belief.

 You have to believe to understand. You have to be born again to believe. You have to trust that which you cannot see because your heart knows it is real. No matter how far we come, no matter how many mountains we climb, until we meet with the Master, we are still puzzled, still searching, still looking back over our shoulders while we climb that next mountain, seeking that elusive truth that will bring peace to our lives.

 Nicodemus was a lot like you and me. He was a seeker. He sought the truth and then tried to sort it out in his own life. Jesus told him it was hard to see heaven from earth, but there is a way. He had to believe…on faith. We are luckier than Nicodemus because we have the whole story. Still, we, like Nicodemus, must find that water is a symbol and that the work of the Holy Spirit is more real than flesh itself. It is God’s breath coming into our lives and our hearts. But first, we must believe. When we do, we can look into the kingdom and we will have eyes to see.    

Whose Will Is It, Anyway?

                    Matthew 7: 21-29

            Remember tent revivals? They’re not as popular now as they once were, but they still exist. When I was young, I remember them coming to town. As a boy, I sometimes got it confused with the circus. After all, both came in tents and both could be exciting. One night, there would be an open field on the edge of town. The next night, there would be a tent there with lots of folding chairs. Flyers would appear on telephone poles. A tent revival had a sort of circus atmosphere about it. It was unusual and it was portable. There were often testimonies of miracles happening. Sometimes someone would apparently be healed right then and there.    

As television gradually entered the dens of virtually every American home, the tent revival became less popular. Televangelists took the place of tent preachers. Successful televangelists have started all sorts of organizations from resorts to universities. Many of these ministries have done a lot of good for a lot of people. I used to have my doubts about all the healings that take place, but as I have matured, I realize that even a fraud can get a lot of mileage off a believer. It happened in Jesus’ day too.

Selling Jesus can be a very lucrative endeavor. Some of our celebrity evangelists are worth tens of millions of dollars. Some live in million dollar homes and drive very expensive cars. The gospel has taken on many shades of color, and often the dominant color seems to be green. It’s hard to know who is working for God and who is just working the crowd.

Jesus warned of such people in his Sermon on the Mount. In the 7^th chapter of Matthew, Jesus warns us not only of false prophets, but also of false followers. Remember how Jesus started out his sermon? Near its beginning in Chapter 5, Jesus warns that “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Calling out “Lord, Lord;” that is, calling out in Jesus’ name as though we know him, is not a ticket to the dance. Jesus cautions us as followers the same way he cautions those would-be prophets. He first tells us that prophets will be recognized by their fruits. So it is with followers, for Jesus tells us that saying the words does not get us to heaven. It is, rather, the doing of God’s will that grants us entry.

How can that be, you ask. Doesn’t Paul tell us that it is only by God’s grace that we are saved? Yet, Jesus seems here to be saying that it is our works by which God evaluates us. Are these two views at odds? Of course not. Paul says that by grace we are saved through faith. What is it that people of faith do? They act out their faith. How do they do that? They are obedient to the will of God the Father as they discern it. And we are right back to what Jesus said. We return God’s love and grace as our faithful act of love by being obedient to his will. That’s not works. That’s love proved by faith and acted out by works.  Put very simply, Jesus is saying that your heavenly Father will know by what you do, not what you say you will do. All the apparent reverence in the world will not get you there. You have to act on it. It’s your heart that will get you to heaven, not your mouth.

Jesus talks about the end times, the day when he shall return, He talks about judging, about who will enter the kingdom and who will be left behind. And here he redefines, or at least makes abundantly clear, the definition of righteousness. He tells us what it isn’t. It isn’t prophesy. It isn’t casting out demons or any other mighty works or deeds, even if done in Jesus’ name. Mighty works are not proof of God. Mighty works can come from God, but they can also come from man or Satan. Mighty works can be real or contrived, genuine and illusion. Mighty works can drum up a lot of business.

But righteousness isn’t necessarily about mighty works. Righteousness is all about attitude. If your heart is right, then you are righteous. Then you might very well do some mighty work, but if you do, you will not be looking for credit. You will be thanking God. The thing is, if your heart is right, you will be doing God’s will, and doing God’s will can be as small as a widow’s mite laid in an offering plate to as big as an ark built to carry all the animals of the earth. Obedience looks the same on a world leader as it does on a first grader.

Note that in verse 21, Jesus uses the term “my Father.” This is the first time in Matthew’s gospel that this term is so used, and it is important because it signals Jesus’ acknowledgment of his identity. His authority is not that of a prophet, through who God speaks, but of God himself. Jesus does not need to quote scripture, although he does fairly often. Jesus is the living Word and carries within him the authority of God himself. The crowds realize this, and more and more people begin to follow Jesus as his fame spreads throughout the region.

In verse 24, Jesus uses his first parable in Matthew’s gospel. We are all familiar with the parallel stories of the houses built on sand and rock. The rock represents wisdom and is compared to the person who shows obedience to God. It should also be noted that in this parable, Jesus promises no favoritism, no exemption from hardship for those who are obedient. We who follow God are not without our troubles. Indeed, we are promised a gracious allotment of trials. The difference is not what we face, but how we deal with it. Houses built upon sand will wash away. If we only pretend to have faith, then when the real storms of life come along, and come they will, those who have not prepared, not obeyed, will find their structures so flimsily constructed that they cannot weather that which befalls them.

Mary Poppins sang to her charges that a spoonful of sugar would make the medicine go down. That’s good advice for children, but of little value to the Christian existence. A spoonful of Christianity won’t get it done. Taking Jesus in small doses is sort of like taking a needle in the arm without the plunger. We get the pain, but not the medicine. That just makes us join the ranks of the foolish builder.

Being obedient to God is not in our natures. For that, we will need God’s help. It is much more natural to go it alone. Even when we are doing God’s business, we would rather build our churches and run our meetings with elbow grease and Yankee knowhow and a polite thank you to God for giving us the expertise. That’s getting perilously close to the sand, don’t you think?

Jesus showed us the way. We need not only to lead through God, but also to follow through God. Our failure to do so will find us unrecognized and unacknowledged on judgment day by the very person whose name we invoked to do all those deeds. If we did these things for ourselves or for earthly recognition, then Jesus warns us that such selfish behavior will render his judgment that we were not his followers at all, and he will turn his back on us.

Make no mistake about the meaning of this passage. It is strong and it is clear. It doesn’t matter your station in life, whether you lead or follow. What matters is whether you submit, really submit, to the exclusive lordship of Jesus Christ in your life. Why do you do what you do? Do you do it for you? Or do you do it for Him? Only one way will open the door of God’s kingdom.

Let us pray

3/9/14

       Silent Trumpets and Secret Hands

Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-21

 Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the season of Lent. During this time, Christians prepare for Easter by fasting, repentance and observance of spiritual discipline. The period reminds us of the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness just before beginning his ministry. We try to identify with the fasting and preparation of our Savior in the desert. We do so knowing that while his temptation was a tremendous ordeal, it paled in comparison to that which awaited him on the cross.

In the season of Lent, we spiritually relive the sacrifices of Jesus that helped to prepare him for what would follow. We impose ashes on our foreheads as a sign of our repentance. While we are taught to pray in private and without seeking the approval of men, we now publicly acknowledge our desire to be forgiven for our part in that which made his sacrifice inevitable. We remove the flowers and adornments from our church buildings and we stand with our ashes marking us, for God has come into our midst to pay the price we could never hope to pay, to bridge the unbridgeable gap between Savior and saved.

In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus is instructing his disciples. They are his followers. When he is gone, it is they who will spread the gospel. Christianity will rest on the shoulders of a few fisherman, a tax collector, a zealot and a few more unlikelys. Jesus tells them to give to the needy, but to do so in secret. The giving is to be without fanfare. The hypocrites sound trumpets in order to be noticed. Jesus wants the disciples to be noticed only by God. Even their own hands should not know what each other is doing. Then Jesus gives them instructions on fasting. Fasting was something they understood. It was a way of preparing, of showing repentance. Jesus told them to disguise their actions, to look normal and well fed by all outward appearances. Again, their actions were to be private communications, tender obediences between them and the Lord. Jesus was preparing his followers for true discipleship.

Worship is more than ritual, fasting more than form. The appearance of humility inside this sanctuary impresses little if thrown aside like a cloak once we leave. We must act our testimony and not just ritualize it. We must do so to the tune of silent trumpets. If our prayers are to be heard by our heavenly Father, they must arrive on the wings of our witness. Our testimony must be real and transparent. If our worship is relegated to sanctuaries and church pews, then our daily life is not worship and we are not righteous. Our true worship is that we act as God’s people. In this new season of Lent, we are again presented with the opportunity to repent and the obligation to witness.  On our way to Easter, may we find that true character reserved for each us by our Creator. Let our hearts become more pure, our hands more busy as we lay up treasure in heaven…in Jesus’ name.

Let us pray.

2/22/12, Rev. 2/13/13, Rev. 3/2/14

Priorities

                    Matthew 6: 24-34

            Are you ever anxious about your life? Want to know that you have everything covered? What happens if your husband gets laid off? What happens if you get laid off? Do you have enough in savings? What if you get pregnant? What if you don’t get pregnant? How much life insurance do you need? How will you pay for braces, buy a house, save for college, take a vacation?

          The list goes on and on. No matter how many things you check off, there are always many more waiting to make the list. As you age, doctor bills and health problems take the place of housing and college for the kids. It never ends. What if I die? What if I am disabled?   How will my spouse get along? What if?

The disciples of Jesus had questions too. What if we run out of food? What if our clothing wears out? What about these old sandals? We no longer have jobs. How will we get along? They had priorities.

Jesus encountered a rich young ruler who had questions. How will I get to heaven? Jesus said, come, follow me, and the young man said, not now, I have to bury my father, meaning he had responsibilities and if he left, his inheritance would be cut short. He had priorities.

          A young girl has a soccer game and her mom has a job conflict. Mom has an important meeting. It could mean good things for her future. Her daughter needs her at the game, but her boss needs her at the meeting. She must decide. What are her priorities?

          There are so many things to worry about. There are so many decisions to be made. Every day there are those decisions. Do I tithe? If I do, how will I ever make ends meet? Do I go out with these new friends? Are they really my friends, or just people trying to take advantage of me? Why can’t I put down my cell phone and do the chores I have? Why can’t I lay off the video games and concentrate? I try to get my priorities right, but it’s so hard! It makes me anxious all the time.

          Jesus goes up on a mountain and talks to his disciples. He talks to them about lots of things. While he talks, don’t you think his disciples are probably asking him questions? We don’t have the questions, but I bet there were plenty. Some of them almost certainly had to do with the worries and anxieties of those disciples. They didn’t know what was coming and it worried them. Like so many of us, they worried about tomorrow. Jesus tells them to reach higher, to replace their goals with kingdom goals.

          Jesus uses tools of rabbinic argument common to the day. Using food to compare with life, he works from the major to the minor. If God gave you life, which is major, then surely he will give you food, which is minor, to sustain that life. Then Jesus switches, moving from the minor to the major. If God takes care of birds and flowers, the little things, how much more will he take care of people. What are you worried about?

          Does Jesus mean that we are not to work? Hardly. Does Jesus mean that we are not to plan? I don’t think so. Jesus means that we have to see our priorities. We have to know what is important and distinguish it from that which is secondary. The point is not that we stop working, but that we stop fretting. If we spend all our time and energy planning for tomorrow, we have forfeited today. What if today is all we are given? After all, tomorrow is not guaranteed. 

          Priorities. I remember once being courted by a big client. He liked my style and was considering me to do all his legal work and it was a big account. I was a single parent struggling to make ends meet and this guy was a rainmaker. He sent word to me that he wanted me to join him one Sunday afternoon in his private box at the raceway during a big race. I politely declined. It was explained to me that declining was not something to do with this fellow. I explained back that Sunday was not a workday for me and that it was a time I spent with my children. I lost the account. But I understood. That fellow wanted to be my priority. That day, I had the good sense to see that and say no. There was a cost to pay. I lost business I needed. Better to pay that cost than the cost of compromising my values and beliefs. That day, I had my priorities in order.

          Jesus reminded his disciples that the Gentiles sought all those earthly answers. He was saying that those who know no better seek such things, but those who know God know better than to seek such trifles. There are real concerns in this life, but to see them, we must have our priorities straight. God’s people should be able to do that. Jesus told the disciples: “your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” But there are priorities, and these things are further down on the list.

          What comes first? When I was confronted many years ago with a choice between the possibility of a big account and letting down the children who trusted me, God allowed me to see the big picture and to make the right choice. Sometimes I have not been so fortunate. What comes first when the boss wants you to work on Sunday and you have already made promises to God, to family, to church? What comes first when the bills are there to be paid and there seems to be nothing left for the offering plate? The world crowds in on us and in spite of all our good intentions, we find ourselves compromising. When we do, the world overwhelms us with all the possibilities of failure with which we are confronted. The great poet William Wordsworth penned these famous thoughts in 1806:

                  The world is too much with us; late and soon,

        getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

                  little we see in Nature that is ours;

                   we have given our hearts away…

                   The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

                   the winds that will be howling at all hours…

                   for this, for everything, we are out of tune;

                   it moves us not…

            Jesus sat on the mountain with his disciples and gave them the answer. He told them how to have what they sought. He told them how to solve their anxiety. He ordered their priorities. His solution was captured in one simple sentence, but in that advice lay the key to their happiness and our peace. Jesus said: “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” 

            Seek God’s kingdom first. How simple that sounds. It’s not. Sometimes it can be very hard. Ask a mother sitting by her newborn, but premature son in the NICU, unable to hold him except at feedings, hanging on every breath he takes. Ask a father holding down two jobs trying to make ends meet. Seek God’s kingdom first. It sounds almost like a dream…but it isn’t. Ask Joseph or Paul in their prison cells or Daniel in the lion’s den. Seek God’s kingdom first. Do that and everything else will work out. Jesus has promised us that.                      

            When you have the faith to put God first over all things, and I do mean all things…then, Jesus says to seek God’s righteousness. Put very simply, that just means, live in discipleship to God… be in submission to him. Don’t put God on your list. Give your list to God.

            So how’s that working for you? You might think of it this way. Give God today. Give it over completely to him. His grace is sufficient. Tomorrow is another day and God has a plan for it too. How much grace do you need? It has been said that today’s grace is only sufficient for today, so why waste it on tomorrow. 

            What’s your priority for today? Will you seek God first? If you do, you really have no need to fret about tomorrow.

Let us pray

3/2/14