Breaking In

Isaiah 58: 6-11, Mark 1: 9, John 5: 9-18

 

 

          Breaking in. You hear that term and it usually brings up negative connotations. There was a break in at the Jones’ house, or the hardware store. Not good. In law school, we memorized all the elements of the common law crimes as they were imported from England into our law. It was so important that most of those definitions are still wandering around in my head, though I have not practiced criminal law for many years. The one I’m thinking about right now is burglary: the breaking and entering of the dwelling house of another in the nighttime with the intent to commit a felony.  Prove that and the person was guilty of burglary, but you had to prove each and every element of the crime to get a conviction.

          What’s that got to do with God? What’s that got to do with Palm Sunday? Well, it occurred to me that in some ways, the things God has had to do to reach us have been similar to common law burglary. What happened at the incarnation, the birth, of Jesus? What happened at the baptism of Jesus? What happened to the paralytic man sitting by the Sheep Gate in Bethesda?  What happened on Palm Sunday? What happened on Good Friday and Easter Sunday? What happens to our lives when we find the truth of the gospel? Is God a burglar? Let’s see if we can make a case.

          Two thousand or so years ago, the little city of Bethlehem had swelled to many thousands as people returned home for the census ordered by Herod. God chose that season to send his son Jesus into the world as a baby boy born to Mary. Jesus arrived uninvited and without the consent of mankind in the nighttime, arguably in the dwelling house of another. The common law was that if you were in the outbuilding of the owner, then that was the same as being in his house. So the stable counts as part of the dwelling. We seem to have all the elements except maybe the intent to commit a felony. But we can argue that treason is a felony, and Jesus came to usher in a new kingdom. That was treason to the Romans. I rest my case. God sent Jesus to commit a burglary on mankind.

                    Mark’s gospel tells us that when Jesus came out of the water after having been baptized by John, “the heavens were torn open for the Spirit of God to descend to the earth.” Another break-in. There was a break. There was an entry. It was from heaven to earth, the dwelling house of man. But it was not nighttime. Okay, maybe not burglary, but close. Under today’s codified criminal law, it would still be burglary if we could prove intent to commit a felony.

          What about that incident at the Sheep Gate? The fellow is sitting there minding his own business and Jesus invades his space, not once but twice. He doesn’t just heal the fellow; he comes back looking for him and warns him to sin no more. Jesus may not be guilty of burglary, but certainly of aggravated assault, disturbing the peace and probably a few more charges.

                    These incidents are just the tip of the iceberg, for Jesus is constantly breaking in to our lives. Look at Palm Sunday, where he came into a Roman occupied town to the salute of a crowd calling him their new king. Treason. Or Maundy Thursday, where he admitted to the Sanhedrin that he was nothing less than God. Treason.  How about Good Friday, where God tore open the veil of the temple and once more broke in to our world? He even created his own night by blocking out the sun. That sounds a lot like a burglary. That’s bad…no, that’s good!

          Of course, Jesus is no burglar. He is guilty only of overwhelming love. Something has been left out of these facts. God and Jesus are not guilty of burglary, because when they break in to the world, or the temple, they enter into their own creation. You can’t be guilty of burglary unless the dwelling belongs to another. Nothing here really belongs to us. We are only the stewards, and poor ones at that, of this earth. It all belongs to God, and he can’t break in to his own house.

          But what about us? Even if God didn’t burglarize the earth or the temple, what about us? Didn't he break in on us? What about that fellow at the Sheep Gate? He didn’t ask God for help. In fact, he was almost rude to Jesus and certainly not deserving or even appreciative of his help. And yet Jesus came for him not just once, but twice. He broke in to this fellow’s life without an invitation. Isn’t that some sort of invasion of privacy? There must be a law. Why does Jesus keep breaking in to our lives?

          Because he loves us. God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit are constantly breaking into our lives, waiting for an opportunity to break in to our hearts. That’s the story of the Bible. That’s the story of Palm Sunday. That’s the story of Easter. God loves us. How much does he love us? No Christian has any trouble answering that question. “For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in hum, shall not perish, but shall have everlasting life.” He came and made himself into a human being, a servant of men, a messenger of how to live our lives. He came to redeem us from ourselves and from death itself. If it takes breaking in to get our attention, then that is what he does.  He loves us that much.

          What does it look like to be the victim of this heavenly break-in? The prophet Isaiah tells us that the fast we choose is to loose the bonds of wickedness, to free the oppressed, to break every sinful yoke, to share what we have with others, to seek those less fortunate and be their brother. And what is the result of such brotherly love? Isaiah says that “then shall your light break forth like the dawn…then shall your light rise in the darkness.”  Isaiah challenges us to live our lives unselfishly, just like the Savior whose resurrection we are poised to celebrate. When Jesus breaks in, as he does constantly, he brings light to our darkness. Isaiah reminds us that we can and should do the same to our fellow man.

          The Bible is the story of God’s mission to redeem his love. It is the story of him constantly forgiving, forever coming for us. He keeps right on breaking into our lives, looking for an opening to break in to our hearts.  Scripture also warns us that there will be one more time when Jesus breaks in to the whole creation. The words are found in Matthew, in 1 Thessalonians, in 2 Peter and in Revelation. In each, they are virtually the same. At the Day of the Lord, Jesus will come again to close out the age. All will be judged. It will be the final break in. We are told exactly how it will happen in all four of these passages. “The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.”

          That’s a burglary I’d like to see. “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.”

Creation Craftsmanship

Ephesians 2: 1-10

 

 

          Today, our lesson comes from Ephesians, often called the crown of Pauline theology. More specifically, it comes from the first ten verses of Chapter 2, the passage which highlights that by grace we have been saved through faith. The passage has a number of important points, but they all converge on verse 8, which I just highlighted. I have tried all week to bring a message built around other verses in this passage and I’m not sure it should be done. The message of salvation by grace through faith is so powerful that it overwhelms any other message around it. Let’s look at this wonderful passage for a few moments.

          The first three verses are about the human condition. Paul describes it as pretty much in a state of hopelessness. He says we were dead in our sins, that we were walking not in the Christian way, but in the way of the world, the way of Satan; that we were following in disobedience and answering to selfishness and evil. Paul says that in such condition, our humanity was as children of wrath. We cared only for ourselves.

          We live in such a world today.  Our human condition will not change without divine intervention. The question is not whether that world exists, for we all know that it does. The question is how we will exist in our world. A story is told about a woman who was living in Tennessee some years ago. She was home and confined to her bed, recovering from hip surgery when the spring rains came. A flash flood occurred at night, and the waters swept into her house. Unable to save herself, she was in danger of drowning in her own bed. Luckily, paramedics arrived in time to save her. The human condition Paul describes is like the condition of that bed ridden woman. We can’t save ourselves any more than that woman could save herself. We are sinners. We need a divine paramedic to save us from the flood of God’s wrath.

          Contrasting the human condition described in the first three verses of this passage is God’s divine motivation, which we see in Verse 4.  Paul reminds us that God is rich in mercy and loves us with a great love, a love which we cannot earn, but have the opportunity to claim. A foul-mouthed sailor experienced that great love when a storm struck his ship on March 10, 1748, just a few days ago but over two hundred sixty years back. When he later wrote about the storm that struck his ship that day, he said that
“Almost every passing wave broke over my head. I expected that every time the vessel descended into the sea, she would rise no more. I dreaded death.” He survived the storm and it changed his life. Shortly afterward, John Newton discovered God’s amazing grace. He later wrote the hymn we sing today (Amazing Grace) to commemorate that discovery.

          The third division of this passage finds Paul preaching of God’s eternal salvation.  Verses 5-9 talk of being made alive in Christ, of being raised up with him and even seated with him in the heavenly places. It is God’s kindness and love that give us this opportunity. It is God’s saving grace brought to us through Jesus Christ that makes it possible.

          So by the grace of God, we are saved…through faith. Is it our faith that saves us? No, it is God’s grace that saves us.  Paul tells us that this salvation is not of our own doing, but rather the gift of God. Yes, we have to have faith, meaning we have to trust God to save us. We have to believe the story of the gospel. Can you trust God to save you? Can you accept in your heart that he is sufficient, that the sacrifice of Jesus Christ has done all the work that needs to be done for you to inherit eternal life? That is the choice you have. Will you trust God, or will you rely on yourself?

          If you trust God, then you will begin to understand the last verse of this passage. Paul says that we are God’s workmanship, that we are created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand for us. Our trust saves us, and we return our love through how we live our lives. We do this with the good works that we return to God as our love offering.

          In 1925, a young Scotsman named Eric Liddell won an Olympic gold medal in the 400 meter race. He won it because he declined to run in his best event, the 100 meter dash, and so was substituted into the 400m. He declined the 100m race because it was to be run on Sunday, and Sunday was the Lord’s Day for this son of Scottish missionaries to China.  Liddell went on to win the 400m, besting his previous best time by a full two seconds. When asked to what he attributed such a breakthrough time, he replied: “I run the first 200m as hard as I can. Then, for the second 200m, with God’s help, I run harder.” 

          Liddell always had his eye on the prize, but it wasn’t the one for which he became famous. When asked about his Olympic experience, he had this to say: “It has been a wonderful experience to compete in the Olympic Games and to bring home a gold medal. But since I have been a young lad, I have had my eyes on a different prize. You see, each one of us is in a greater race than any I have run in Paris, and this race ends when God gives out the medals.” Liddell went on to become a missionary to China, where he gave himself unselfishly to God’s mission in that country. He died of a brain tumor in a Japanese concentration camp in 1943. Even at the end of his life, he saw God’s greater purpose. When his release had finally been obtained through much effort and negotiation by Winston Churchill, Liddell stayed behind, giving up his passage home to a pregnant woman in the camp, saving not only her but her unborn child. He was to never see his wife and three children again.

          “We are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” What a beautiful thought. As you leave today, take that thought with you. You are God’s workmanship. You were created in Christ for good works. God did all that before you ever took your first breath. We are created by him to walk in the works that he pre-ordained for us to do. Each of us has our place in the body of Christ. Are you listening? Where is your place?

          Sometimes when I think of God’s craftsmanship, I think of the ocean or the beach or the Blue Ridge Mountains or the Grand Canyon. Sometimes I think of tigers or wolves or antelope. As majestic as all those things are, together they cannot hold a candle to the divine craftsmanship I see every time I look in the mirror, or out into this congregation. I am God’s creature, designed for good works. I am God’s handiwork, built for kingdom ventures. So are you. The Bible tells us so.

          In this Easter season, a season of remembering the great love of Jesus coming for us, living with us, dying for us, rising in victory over sin and death, are you experiencing the craftsmanship God fashioned for you? Are you living the life he designed for you? Of finding his place in the the Christian life, Eric Liddell had this to say: “You will know as much of God, and only as much of God, as you are willing to put into practice.”

          Listen to the words of the apostle Paul. Listen with your heart. It’s not about this world, except that this world is where we begin our walk with our Savior. God in his great love and rich mercy, wants to raise you from the death of sin, wants to seat you in the heavenly places with him, wants to show you the incomparable riches of his grace in Christ Jesus.

          Will you let him?

The Word of the Cross

1 Corinthians 1: 17-25

 

 

          Drive through any downtown and what buildings do you see more than any other? Take a spin through the countryside and what man made structure is the most prominent?  Chances are good that you will probably answer churches and you would be right. In this buckle of the Bible belt, churches are everywhere. They come in all sizes and shapes. They are old and older and even brand spanking new. They have sanctuaries that hold hundreds and even thousands of people.  One thing that almost all of them have in common is some sort of steeple. Even the ones that don’t, have something in common inside their sanctuaries. On those steeples and inside those sanctuaries and prominently displayed is a cross, usually behind the pulpit. The cross is the universal icon of the Christian church. In all of Christianity, Protestant or Roman Catholic, it is the best known symbol of Christianity.

          Google “Cross” and you will get over a million and a half websites to go to. Google the image of the cross and you will find about 50 types. The most familiar to us are probably the Latin Cross, which looks like the one behind me, the Crucifix, which bears the image of a crucified Jesus upon a cross, and the Celtic Cross, which is essentially a Latin Cross with the upper portion enclosed in a circle.

          There are all these different images of the cross, and not just the cross itself. There is also the “sign” of the cross. You know that. It’s the crossing of oneself with your hand, either on the forehead or across the chest. The practice started as early as the second century and continues today with many Christians.

          Of all the icons that might be used to remind us of our beliefs, why have we settled on the cross? Ever thought about it? Of all the symbols we might have chosen, the cross is the one that reminds us most deeply of the pain, humiliation and sacrifice borne by our Lord for us. In fact, that was the argument of some within the early church.  It was such a violent reminder, such a grotesque remembrance, that some wanted it replaced with something more heavenly, more sublime. As you know, that’s not the way it turned out, for the Cross also represents in the strongest way possible way the atonement, the sacrifice of God’s own Son on the cross to save us from the damnation of our own sin. In Colossians 2: 15, Paul says that Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.”

          But what does Paul mean in 1st Corinthians 1 when he talks about “the word of the cross?” It helps to know a little bit about the Corinthian church, about what was going on there at the time, about the makeup of that church. Then we can begin to see what Paul is getting at. The church in Corinth was pretty much of a mess. In this bustling city of some eighty thousand people at the time and every kind of religious culture existing side by side, Paul stepped in and planted the church in Corinth. After he left, it didn’t take long for the church to find itself embroiled in controversy. Many leaders and factions and other religions were vying for the attention of the people and they were beginning to lose the unity which had held them together. Additionally, the culture was one in which the art of debate and philosophical reasoning was given much attention. Paul was schooled in such arts, but that was not what he chose to use in Corinth. And that brings us to this curious term: the word of the cross.

          Paul was an educated man. He was schooled in the ways of debate and rhetoric common to the Greco-Roman culture of the first century. He had used these skills before. He found them wanting. What Paul found was that he was in the way of the message. He was sent by Jesus to preach the gospel, the most powerful and important message in the history of the world! He didn’t need rhetorical skills. He just needed to tell the good news! So Paul starts out this letter to the Corinthians by saying just that. He says that Christ sent him “to preach the gospel and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.”

          Paul goes on to talk about the wisdom and power of God. Paul has learned something himself, for the power of God is more than sufficient to persuade those who have been called. We know those who have been called. They are easily identifiable. They are the ones who believe the gospel.  Paul says that’s how you tell the winners from the losers. On the program of life, it’s not the scribes or the wise or the captains of the debate team who win. It’s those who believe the word of the cross!

          The word of the cross is that he died. He died on that cross to save us from our own sin. And so, Paul says he preaches Christ crucified. But to stop there is to stop short of the end of the story. The end of the story, the reason we keep telling it, is that Christ didn’t just die for us, as glorious and generous as that was. He rose! He rose from the dead! Death could not hold him and he rose and he walked among us and he ascended to heaven, where he continues to intercede for us until he returns. That is the word of the cross! That is its power!

          Maybe that’s why even today, the cross stands at the top of churches. Maybe that’s why even today, the cross still stands behind the pulpit, reminding us not only of that great sacrifice, but also of that great and magnificent victory. Paul, quoting the prophet Hosea, says later in his letter to the Corinthians:

                    O death where is your victory?

                    O death, where is your sting?

                                                            1 Cor.15:55

          What is the word of the cross? I think the word of the cross is so powerful as to need no words. The cross speaks to us. It speaks to our heart of hearts. It is Jesus reminding us. I love you. I did it for you. I gave all and conquered all for you. I’m coming back for you. That is the word of the cross. Halleluiah!

Counted as Righteous

Romans 4: 13-25

 

 

          I used to play golf. I got where I could break eighty about half the time. If you’re a golfer, you know that’s not too bad. I never played the par 3’s that well, but even so, I almost made a hole in one dozens of times. Every time I came close, you know what my score was for that almost hole in one? Two.  

          It’s the same for outfielders who nearly catch that homerun ball. And for running backs who get stopped on the one inch line. And shots on goal that hit the post and bounce the other way. They all come soooo close. But when everything is tallied up, they are all the same. They don’t count. Cooking is the same way. Cook too little or too long or too hot or too cold and you don’t have a meal; you have a disaster. Close? Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

          What about righteousness? How does righteousness work? Does close count in righteousness? In Matthew 25, Jesus talks about the final judgment. He is on his throne and all the nations are gathered. He is separating those who are deemed righteous from those who are not. He congratulates one group and condemns the other. Both seem to be unaware of what they have done or not done. They are received or condemned based upon their treatment of others, based upon their compassion—or their blindness--for their fellow man. Their fate for all eternity lies in the answer to one simple question. When you helped, did you do it unselfishly without regard to any benefit you might derive? Did you do it to the least, to the invisible? I know, that’s two questions, but you get my drift.

       With righteousness, Jesus seems to be saying, you’ve got to give like me to be like me. It doesn’t matter that you have a shelf loaded with good deeds. Why did you do them? Jesus says to those with the wrong motives: “as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me. And these (you) will go away into eternal punishment.” With righteousness, close doesn’t count. Or maybe, it depends on what is it you are counting. Albert Einstein, one of the great mathematicians of all time, put it this way: “Everything that can be counted does not necessarily count; everything that counts cannot necessarily be counted.”

          So how do you get counted righteous? In addition to the passage in Matthew, Paul gives us a thesis about righteousness in the book of Romans. Romans may well be the most theological book of the New Testament. It is lofty and complex, yet also down to earth and colloquial. It is a treatise of righteousness written to a church that Paul did not plant and had not yet been to visit. In the passage we examine today, Paul takes us on a tour of God’s saving righteousness, particularly as seen through the faith of Abraham. Abraham’s faith was “counted to him as righteousness.”

          My wife tells me that she has never been all that partial to the word righteousness. She says it just sounds too “high-falutin.” She says it doesn’t seem to fit.  She says it’s just “too ---something,” whatever that means. I think I know what she means. I grew up hearing that this guy or that woman was too “self-righteous.” It was not a compliment. I don’t really remember hearing it in any other context. Righteous seemed like something selfish or uppity.

          Well, if you agree with Cindy or me about that, then it’s high time to change your mind. Righteousness is a cool word. It describes something I want to be. You want to be righteous too. Here’s why.

          When you read Paul in the original language in which the New Testament was written, the word righteous comes from the same root as the word justification. They are interchangeable. To be righteous is to be justified. To be justified is to be righteous. We all want to be justified. That’s like saying we’re okay. And we are. We are part of God’s family when we believe in the gospel. At that point we are justified by God’s grace. Think of it this way. Justified means “just as if I had not sinned.” I like that! That’s what God gives me. And that makes me righteous. Remember, it means the same as justified. It means right with God. I’ll take that, too.

          So I think that the word righteous got a bad rap. Righteous is who I want to be. I want to be right with God. But how do I get righteous? Well, I can’t buy it. I can’t barter for it. I can’t earn it. So how can I get righteous? Well, consider Abraham.

          God promised Abraham that he would become the father of many nations. God made a covenant with Abraham to do that. We have talked about that. But Abraham was an old man, a hundred years old in fact, and his wife Sarah was ninety years old herself.   Paul is impressed with Abraham’s faith level. Paul says that Abraham’s faith did not weaken even when he considered his own body. The next line in Romans 4 just might be Paul’s attempt at humor, for he says that due to his advanced age, Abraham’s body “was as good as dead.” Now we have a number of members here who also are rather senior in age, but I know personally that they are very much alive. But then, none of them are contemplating childbirth and raising a child, either. At any rate, what Paul means is that Abraham had to have faith and plenty of it, because all the earthly signs to which he was accustomed were screaming “no way.”

          But Abraham did have faith. Abraham claimed God’s promise. Abraham walked with God. Sarah laughed, even named their son Isaac, which means laughter, but she also must have had faith, for indeed she and Abraham did conceive the first born son of the nation of Israel.  Paul uses terms like this to describe Abraham’s faith: “in hope he believed…did not weaken in faith…no distrust in God…fully convinced.” What was it in which Abraham was fully convinced? That “God was able to do what he had promised!”

          That’s how we get righteous. That’s how we get right with God. We believe. Paul tells us that Abraham’s belief “was counted to him as righteousness.” Do you see what Paul is saying? Abraham didn’t build up a big bag of good deeds, though he did many good things. Abraham didn’t accumulate great wealth to buy a seat at God’s table, though he did become a wealthy man. Abraham did not live a pure life, as is evidenced by his lie to King Abimelech about Sarah (Gen. 20) and his impatience with God that resulted in the birth of his son Ishmael not by Sarah but by her maidservant Hagar.  But Abraham did come to have complete faith in God, and when he did, he was blessed. He was counted as righteous.

          Paul says that the words “it was counted to him” were not written just for Abraham. They were also written for us. Paul says this: “It will be counted to us who believe in him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised up for our justification.” Paul is showing us a double meaning here. Delivered up and Raised up. One saves us. We are delivered from our sins. The other finds us. We are raised up into righteousness. The gospel is incomplete without both events.

          The lesson of Abraham is simple. Close doesn’t count. Life is not about the quantity of your deeds or the depth of your reasoning. Life is about the quality of your heart. That’s what counts. That’s what makes you righteous. Do you believe that God sent his Son, let him die for us, raised him from the dead, and did it all for us? If you do, you are counted as righteous, just like Abraham and all the saints who have followed him.

          I’m thinking about all those goats back in Matthew 25 who did the right things for the wrong reason. They did it for themselves instead of unselfishly. They did it for personal gain and not for the Kingdom. At first blush, they seemed so much like the sheep whom Jesus loved and brought into fellowship with him. But a deeper reading shows that their acts only looked like faith. They weren’t ever that close to begin with.

          We have to believe to count. We have to have faith to count. When we do, the acts and deeds that we carry out will be acts of love that are God centered and not selfish. I have heard it said that if you don’t smell like sheep, then you ain’t no shepherd. Shepherds are what we all need to be. Then we count. We all have a witness to bring to the Lord’s Table. May we each find and participate in that witness. And then when that day comes for us to stand before our Savior, we too will be counted as righteous.