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Sunday, September 24, 2017


     Work in Progress

                                   Exodus 3: 13, 14, Matthew 28: 5-7

                            

   Work in Progress. You see those signs on the highway and you start paying extra attention. Something is happening. You may not be able to see what it is at first, but you know to slow down and proceed with some caution. Something is already going on up in front of you and you need to take heed. Pay attention. Work in progress.

          The same idea applies in places other than highways. How about when you come in a room where someone is studying, or making supper, or reading a book? Those, too, are work in progress and again, it’s best to walk softly until you get the lay of the land…or the room. Something is going on before you arrive. It didn’t need your presence to happen. You need to tread lightly. What’s going on?

          Have you ever been somewhere and you just knew right away that a presence was there? It may have been a hospital room or even at a campfire out under the stars. Wherever you were at the time, you knew that you were in the presence of God. Isn’t it something the way he can do that!

          We shouldn’t be surprised. What is it that God said to Moses? Moses is told to go to Egypt and Pharaoh and to bring God’s people out of that land, and Moses asks God: What if they ask me your name? What shall I say? And God tells Moses to say: “I AM WHO I AM.” I AM. We say his name all the time. What’s your name? I ask you that and you say “I am Johnny Clark. I Am Emily Boone.” Think about that. We can’t identify ourselves without identifying God. Jonathan Cahn says that God’s name is “woven into the fabric of existence.”[1] Your I am would not exist but for his I AM. And think about this. You can’t speak of yourself without putting him first. You would never say Jean Campbell I am! No, you have to put God first, God’s existence first, to get to yourself!

         Work in progress. We understand that concept when it comes to us. We remember the Apostle Paul’s teaching about justification and sanctification. When we accept Christ and believe in him, we are justified. Our sin is washed away and we are part of God’s family. But no matter how deeply and fervently we believe, we continue to sin. So we continue to repent. We continue to ask for God’s forgiveness. We have entered into a life-long process whereby we sin less and become more in the image of God. This work in progress is called sanctification. But that process is not what I’m talking about here.

          We say that God is everywhere, that God knows everything. Luke’s gospel reminds us that Jesus said that even the hairs of our heads are all numbered [12:7]. But there is more to it than that. The Spirit of God lives within us. Paul calls us and the Church God’s temple, saying that “God’s Spirit dwells in us.” [1 Cor. 3: 16]. All this is true, but again, that’s not what I’m talking about now. I’m talking about that presence, that working presence, of God wherever we go, whomever we encounter.

         Some of you have worked in the textile industry before it moved to Asia. Can you remember the first time you walked in to a weave room or a spinning room or a cutting room?  How in the world could you become part of all that work in progress? There were already things going on all around you. Sometimes life is not so noisy, but things are still happening fast. Coming into a classroom for the first time or getting a new job are examples. You walk in and realize that a lot is going on. You want to take some time to just observe and try to get a handle on all that is happening. Otherwise, you will look foolish.

          God is like that. God is like all those places where you have been and realized that a lot was already happening when you entered that environment. No matter where you are, no matter whom you meet, no matter what your state of mind at the time, God is already there when you arrive. Not only is he there; he is at work.

          In the last chapter of Matthew’s gospel, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to Jesus’ tomb. There they encounter the angel of the Lord. The angel reassures them and tells them this about Jesus: “He is not here, for he is risen…go quickly and tell the disciples…and behold, he is going before you…there you will see him…”

          He is risen. Some translations say he has risen. I prefer he is. Scholars will debate over the grammar, but there is no debate among believing Christians that theologically, our Lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead and remains alive and well for the rest of eternity. So He is risen best describes for me theologically where Jesus is today. He is risen! But the main point is not so much about the verb describing Christ’s state as it is about describing his action. What is he doing? He is going before you. That is, he is paving the way. When you arrive, you will find him already there.

          Look, he is going before you. The angel told Mary that Jesus was going before them to Galilee, but that was just the first place. He is going before you too. He is risen. He is going before you… to school. He is going before you…to the grocery store. Jesus is going before you to the bus, to the ball game, to the kitchen. Jesus is always going before you. When you walk into a situation, when you confront someone, when you deal with a crisis, Jesus is already there. Before you arrive, work is already in progress. That’s what God’s providence is all about. He looks after his creation and all his creatures, even when he is not expressly invited. How much more will he do when we issue our invitation for him to come with us, in us…and before us!

          Eugene Peterson talks about how such understanding has changed the way he enters every room, every situation. He says he quotes it before every visit or meeting.[2] “He is risen…he is going before you to Campbell Road, there you will see him, as he told you.” “He is risen…he is going before you to Monroe Hospital; there you will see him, as he told you.”

          Isn’t it a comfort to know that you are not alone? Isn’t is a blessing to realize that he is going to wherever you are going, that he has gone before you, that when you get there, you will find him already there, already working. When you arrive, something is already going on, because our blessed Jesus has already arrived, and what you encounter is nothing less than a work in progress.

           He came first. Our very existence comes from him. If he came first, then we ought to put him first. If we come from him, then let us work through him. Let his existence order our existence. It’s not just about living for him, but also about living from him. And he didn’t just come first; he is first. He is the great I AM, and we take our existence from and through him. When we move we find him already there. When we observe, we see him already at work. When we begin to work, we join a work already in progress.

          When we begin to grasp the ever present going before us of the I Am, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit, we begin to be empowered by all that divine energy. We live from him, we move from him, we act from him…we even feel from him. Being made in his image is being empowered in his work…his ever-present, ever-leading work in progress.

          “Do not be afraid…I know you seek Jesus…He is not here, for he is risen.” And “he is going before you to” everywhere you will ever be; there you will see him. Always, always, always…we are dealing with a risen Christ who goes before us.



[1] Cahn, Jonathan, The Book of Mysteries (FrontLine, Lake Mary, FL.), 2016, Day 2,
[2] Eugene Peterson, Living The Message (Harper Collins, San Francisco), 1996, 259.

Saturday, September 23, 2017


     The Power of One

                                                  Ephesians 4: 1-6

 

 

          Vacation is good for the soul. A destination wedding of my wife Cindy’s nephew brought us recently to Aspen, Colorado. Since we had to travel that far, we decided to extend the trip and visit her other relatives in Colorado and New Mexico. A week or so later, we had renewed old friendships, made new ones, hiked through a mountain valley, rode horses up another mountain, and driven through much of the Western Slope of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.  We were awed by God’s architecture in that area of the United States. For much of the time, I felt as though I was in a massive cathedral of God’s own carving.

          Ten miles outside of Aspen in the White River National Forest, there is an area where one can see a mountain range called the Maroon Bells, a name which refers to the color and shape of those peaks. They are touted as the most photographed place in Colorado. In the right light, they have a deep reddish, maroon color from the soft red shale and siltstone of which they are composed. As I stood there looking, I imagined the pipes of a church organ. I could almost hear God’s voice on the soft wind that blew through the valley on our visit. A couple days later as we traveled south, we witnessed wonder after wonder of the Rocky Mountains. The majesty of that mountain range and valleys miles wide is enough to take your breath away.   

          Is it possible to feel closer to God outside in nature? I think most people would echo a resounding yes to that question. In the presence of God’s astounding artistry, from mountains to seashores to prairies to deserts, one can often feel a more pronounced presence of God. Perhaps it is the lack of so much civilization pressing in upon us. Perhaps it is the incredible beauty that exists where man’s footprint is not so evident. Whatever it is, it draws us closer to the magnificence of God. While it is not meant to take the place of our gathering for worship as God’s people, it is an inspiration that all of us need. These places in nature are more wild, more serene, more likely for many of us to become awed enough to step back, to take time, to listen and perhaps feel more clearly God’s presence moving within us as we meditate on his creation. That’s part of what I did on my visit to the Rockies.

          In the book of Ephesians, the apostle Paul is writing from prison. He refers to himself as a prisoner for the Lord.  We looked at part of this passage recently when we were talking about obedience to God and how we know people who walk with God. Paul says here to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called [4:1].  The passage is about unity, unity in the body of Christ, and Paul details our calling to Christ, our walk with Christ, in terms of humility and gentleness, of patience, of bearing with one another lovingly, of eagerly maintaining unity in the Spirit [v. 2, 3].

          Then, Paul talks about what it means to be in unity with the body of Christ. He talks about one body and one Spirit…one hope…one Lord, one faith, one baptism [v. 4]. Paul is telling the Ephesians that the body of Christ is the Church. It is the Christ-ordained organism through which Christ exists and is made known in the world today.

          It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? But today we are a world of 195 nations and 4,200 religions, even 9 Presbyterian denominations —how do we even begin to have a conversation about unity? We are a diverse planet, and even where there seems to be unity, there is remarkable diversity, as in the Church. Is unity possible? Is it desirable? What did Paul mean and to what does he point us to today?

          The Colorado Rockies are loaded with evergreens and aspen trees. In the fall, the aspens rival the tulip poplars and hickories and birch of our beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. They turn a bright, shimmering yellow that glistens in the sun and wind. In their movement, they seem so alive that they dominate the landscape with the dance of their leaves. What is amazing is that for the most part, these aspen forests are really one living organism. Aspens grow roots near the surface from which new trees sprout, resulting in vast forests that are all interconnected. The DNA of the trees in these forests is identical. One forest in Utah consists of 47,000 trees calculated at 13 million pounds. This would make it the largest known organism in the world. One article I read talked about aspens as an example of cloning. To me, it seems more like one parent with many, many children.

          As I took in the grandeur of these beautiful aspen forests, I couldn’t help but compare those forests to the Church. Isn’t the Church one living, breathing orgasm? Doesn’t the Church spring from one root system spreading over large areas, having its children spring up from the one common root? A tour guide driving us up to the Maroon Bells remarked about how avalanches would often bend aspen groves all the way to the ground, and then from those felled trees, roots would re-establish and new trees would emerge. What looked like the death of an aspen grove was actually the spawn of a new forest.

         What do we do when we invite someone to our church? What do we hope to accomplish when we start a new church plant, perhaps with a few of our faithful and a hope for a new church community? We are like those aspens growing new from one organism with a root system that cannot die. What happens to us as Christians when we face the avalanches of our church life, like having our church burn as happened to this congregation? We will be like those aspen groves that regenerate from the devastation of an avalanche. In the world of God’s children, we re-populate and become new growth, an addition to the family of God.

          But if we all are part of one root system, then how do we make room for new growth from outside? Again, we can look to the aspen tree to learn. Even in these large, homogeneous forests, one will find other trees with different DNA. It happens from the wind or birds blowing or carrying leaves which fall to the earth and root. So strangers become part of the populations as well as those already in the family.

          Suppose we do want to plant a church. Can we expect it to grow away from the mother church? How will we handle such a plant? Again, the aspen provides us a metaphor for such an endeavor. When you try to plant as aspen tree, you often find that the tree you planted will die. But if you wait a season or two, you will see new sprouts coming up not far from the original plant. This is the spreading process at work. It is not so different from what God does to his church.

          One body, one spirit, one hope. One Lord, one faith, one baptism. An aspen forest can begin with one tree planted well. The whole Christian movement started just that way. Jesus came. He left behind a little band of twelve disciples. Look what has happened since. The Power of One can never be underestimated. We should all take note of the aspen. Each of us bears the DNA of our Lord. Let’s go do some planting.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017


Uncommon People for a Common Mission

1 Samuel 17: 38-46

 

 

          How many of you have used Tupperware? I doubt there is an adult in this room who hasn’t. How many of you have been to Kentucky Fried Chicken in the last month? We’re talking about two American business institutions and yet, without a little luck and a lot of failure along the way, those products wouldn’t exist today.

          Earl Tupper invented the plastic containers we now call Tupperware in the1940’s, but he could barely give them away until a single mom named Brownie Wise, who worked for Tupper, began to host something called Tupperware parties. The rest is history.

          Harland Sanders was a sixth grade dropout who went broke trying to peddle a chicken recipe, but he didn’t give up. Today, KFC is in practically every town in the country with over 17,000 stores. Then there are Ben and Jerry, who took a correspondence course together on the art of ice cream making. Aren’t we glad they did! They just wanted to start up an ice cream store in their home town, but when an idea is good, well, things happen.

          We can look at the Bible and find story after story that can outdo even those American dreams. There is Abraham, who fathered a people numbering in the millions though he was a century old man having his first child with Sarah. There is Noah, whose family repopulated the world after surviving a flood for the ages. There is Moses, a shepherd from the hill country, who took on mighty Pharaoh and his armies with nothing but a staff. There is David, the boy who slew the giant with a sling; Joseph, the slave who ran the nation of Egypt; Elijah, who took on four hundred prophets of Baal; Ruth, whose quiet loyalty earned her the status of grandmother of David the king, and Daniel, who wouldn’t bow or change his loyalties to God even to save his own skin.

          The Bible is full of such stuff of heroes and heroines and they all have something in common with those American success stories. They were not geniuses or rich or somehow favored. Quite the contrary. They were ordinary people just like you and me. None of them, not one, would have been picked for some high school or college superlative list like Most Likely to Succeed or Smartest. They were ordinary people—but they were uncommon.

          In the case of those American business success stories, they were people with an idea who didn’t give up. As time went by, the ideas gained traction. But they had to work for it and wait for it. Their success came not so much from brilliance as from tenacity.

          In the case of those Biblical folks, they were as ordinary as you can get. Nomad, farmer, slave, shepherd, poor girl from another country, exile, teenager. That’s not much to write home about. But look what they did, these ordinary people. They did so much so well because though they were just ordinary—they were uncommon.

          What makes people like this, who seem so very ordinary, who would never stand out in a crowd, so memorable? They do things that people don’t do. They attempt things that should not be attempted. They don’t seem to understand about risk/reward ratios or they would never attempt to do such things. What makes them tick, these people we read about now with awe? They were uncommon. They sought to do that which could not be done.

          The story of David and Goliath is such a tale. When no else in the army of Israel will step forward, a teenage shepherd appears. He has never been in battle. He comes to the front simply to deliver food to his brothers. Before he knows it, he is to be the giant killer. David says to the king fearlessly: “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of the Philistine.” Then King Saul says to David the word we all need to hear: “Go, and the Lord be with you.”

          I don’t know about people like Colonel Sanders or Earl Tupper, but I do know about those biblical characters. They were tapped in to a source which fueled them in a way that sheer ambition and work ethic can never do. They showed faith in God; faith that could overthrow armies, persuade kings and embolden young men and women to take on overwhelming tasks. And that faith is what made them and so many others uncommon.  

          Uncommon is not an everyday thing. If it were, it would be common. Uncommon is different. It’s doing things other people don’t do; looking at life in a way that other people don’t understand. If you live that way just to be different, you will certainly succeed at being different. But what if you live that way because you have a purpose, a purpose bigger than yourself? Then, uncommon becomes something very special.

          We live in a world surrounded by people who live lonely lives. Many whom we know are trapped in their individual pursuit of happiness. When I practiced law, I was fortunate to have a number of clients who were millionaires.  Thank goodness for rich clients. They helped make up the difference that allowed me to take on clients who couldn’t afford legal services. I remember one client in particular. He always had toys. He had a beautiful home in town, but he could afford more, so he bought a McMansion on the lake. When he got bored, he bought a fifty foot yacht with two bedrooms belowdeck, all to cruise around on the lake. When he tired of lake living, he moved back to town to another McMansion. Now he’s trying the mountains. Another mansion, this one equipped with a fabulous automobile just to drive around while he is in the mountains. My friend goes to church, too. I’m afraid it’s more a part of his connectional life than to find his higher purpose. He’s not a bad guy at all, but I worry that he will be forever getting new toys because he has no idea what it’s like to be uncommon.

          The church is uncommon. There is no institution like it in the world. It exists not because we fuel it or feed it. It exists because Christ began it and Christ will maintain it. It does not depend on the good graces of individuals, but rather the grace of Christ. We do church as community. Wes Roberts calls the community of the church “the living, breathing, in-your-face demonstration of what it means to live under the reign of God.” [1] We are part of the body of Christ and he moves us common people to continually do uncommon things.

          The church is just as much at risk of missing the mark as any other institution. It’s very hard not to become worldly. It’s difficult to watch all the apparent success of televangelists. Who can help but notice the megachurches around us which feature topline entertainment, canned music and slick promotions. They use bleacher seats instead of pews, ATMs instead of passing collection plates. I have almost no experience with that and do not mean to criticize. What I do mean to do is worry about what message all that consumerism sends. Sooner or later, people in need must be fed with the Word one on one, face to face.

          There is a story about a Korean pastor who visited a large church here in the states. The church had Wednesday night prayer services, but few showed up. It had a new educational wing and overflow parking for Sunday services where thousands would attend. After a tour of the huge facility, the local pastor asked the Korean minister his thoughts. His response was simple. “It seems that you can do quite a bit without God.”

          It’s not about technique. While resources are nice, it’s not about resources either. It’s about finding ourselves by giving ourselves away. It’s about what Peter and Paul and Joseph and Moses found out. It’s about being disciples.

          As we bond together as the church, we can begin to feel ourselves part of a common mission. We are set apart from the greater community as God’s people trying to do God things. We come together to fellowship, to worship, to disciple. We move out into the world around us as a people set apart from our world but working in it. We are commissioned to go, teach and baptize. How uncommon is that! We gather to be sent. We come to be equipped to go. We learn in order to teach.

          As this message closes, let me hasten to say that in very great part, I am speaking to the choir. This church community that I serve is in most ways a model for what church should be. People here give of themselves not just on Sunday morning, but all week long. People here value their relationships and constantly cement them with acts of love along the way. People here will quickly give and give generously, not only from their abundance, but from their substance with both their money and their time. There is always room for improvement, but I am constantly humbled by the voluntary acts of kindness and generosity I witness here in this gathering. This church is an uncommon community and it acts on the common mission of discipleship day in and day out.

          We will do well to remember the words of King Saul to young David. As David prepared to meet the Philistine giant on the field of battle, Saul sent him out with these words: “Go, and the Lord be with you.” That’s all we’ll ever need.



[1] Wes Roberts and Glen Marshall, Reclaiming God’s Original Intent for the Church (Navpress, Colorado Springs), 2004, 87.