Demoniac to Disciple; a Legion Goes Swimming (Luke 8: 26-39) 6/23/13

          In The Exorcist, a novel by William Peter Blatty later made into a movie, Father Merrin, the exorcist, has died. Little Regan MacNeil is about to die, as her body is worn out from containing a host of demons. Father Merrin’s assistant Damien Karras, a young Jesuit priest, is her only hope. Damien is as educated as one can be. He is schooled by the Roman Catholic Church as a doctor, a psychiatrist, a priest. He is one of the best and the brightest, and in spite of all that education, Father Karras has come to the end of the line. His faith and judgment are now put to the supreme test. All his schooling cannot explain what confronts him. He looks into the tortured eyes of a young teenager and in them he sees the face of unadulterated evil.  It is an evil that has occupied the body of this girl and it has taken all the old priest had left. Now only Damien Karras stands for God. The demons fear God, but they do not fear Father Karras.

          Jesus is walking through the towns of the Decapolis. The Decapolis is a term for group of predominantly Gentile cities around the Sea of Galilee, also called Lake Gennesaret. The disciples are with him as he performs many mighty acts. Joanna and Suzanna are with them, as is Mary Magdalene, a woman who once had been home to seven demons herself. One day Jesus got into a boat and the disciples followed. They sailed to the other side of the lake; that is, they did so after Jesus calmed the storm on the lake with one rebuke, further amazing the disciples. The challenge that awaited Jesus on the other side of the lake was even more profound than dealing with nature. Jesus was about to deal up close and personal with the presence of evil.

          The Exorcist is a real page turner. The movie is one of the scariest I have ever seen. Perhaps it was so scary to me because I believe that demons exist. I believe that evil exists. It is a powerful force in the world and it is alive and well. It is often spoken of as Satan, but Satan is only one facet of evil. His job is made easier by the sinful nature that we humans bring to the table. If Jesus called Satan the “ruler of this world” and the “prince of the air,” perhaps I had better pay attention to the reality of his presence. Exorcisms are the name given to the act of commanding, in God’s name, demons to come out of people.

Exorcists deal with demons. I’d rather be a snake handler than an exorcist. A snake can only kill me. A demon can take my soul.  

          Jesus and the disciples sail to the land of the Gerasenes. Scholars say that Luke, or later translators, meant the lakeside towns of either Gergesa or Gadara. Whatever the town, it lay on the other side of the lake and one of the local industries was raising pigs. Jews didn’t eat pork, so this was most probably a Gentile community. Luke tells the story of the demoniac in flash-back fashion. The man runs to Jesus, begging him not to torment. The demons are speaking through the man, for Jesus has already commanded them to leave.

          The flash-backs fill in some of the blanks in the story. What a sight this man was! He was naked. He lived in the tombs among the dead rather than in a house with the living. I would imagine his beard was years out of control.  He had been known to break the bands of metal shackles. His strength was obviously more than human. This man was dangerous. If you were out for a walk with your children when he came into view, you went back home and put a chair in front of the door. Jesus says: What’s your name? But he is not talking to the man, for the man has long ago disappeared into this dwelling place of evil.

          “I am legion!” The man’s voice crackles with poison as the demons use it to communicate to Jesus. “I am legion,” says the voice. In the Roman army, a legion was six thousand men. The parallel story in Mark’s gospel tells us that some two thousand pigs were in the herd. The implication in Mark is that there were two thousand demons. Luke seems to imply more. The point is that the poor man was so demon infested, he had all but disappeared.

          In The Exorcist, the girl Regan is used to speak in tongues, in the voices of loved ones, in various forms of people and eras. Her demonic occupants are many as they are in Luke’s story. Her looks are only dimly reminiscent of the young girl whose body has been inhabited by evil itself.  Her own mother cannot recognize her, so vast and complete is the metamorphosis. For Regan and for the poor besieged man of Luke’s story, their bodies have become vessels for the poison of evil to spew forth as from a human volcano.

 Have you ever felt the presence of evil? Ever seen its evidence in the manipulations of men? Ever felt it seething inside your own anger? The presence of evil on the silver screen and in Scripture can be graphic, but chances are you have had your own personal encounter with feelings that resemble such ugliness. Evil comes in all shapes and sizes and it possesses by degree. The more we give in to it, the more it inhabits us. We do not have to become demoniacs to know the presence of demons.

The demons beg Jesus not to command them to depart into the abyss, or the underworld from which they could not return. Jesus allows them to enter the pigs, but look what happens. The pigs, infested with demons, now rush headlong over the cliff and drown in the sea. The demons would have fared better in the abyss. At least they would have been alive.

In The Exorcist, Father Karras seizes the moment. He knows how to save Regan. He must take on the demons. “Come into me” he commands the demons. “Come into me.” The demons are delighted to take up residence in a man of God. In an instant, Karras’ face is contorted. He looks horrible, evil. His soul struggles and for a moment, he is back. But the demons are strong and they gain control again. Desperately the young priest wrestles with his soul. For one fleeting moment, he again is his own master and in that brief moment, he may have remembered the story of the demoniac in Luke, for he lunges forward and crashes through the upstairs window three stories to the parking lot below and his death. He, like the pigs, has rushed headlong off the cliff. He has lost his life, but saved his soul and that of Regan MacNeil as well. The demons? They suffer the same fate as those who rushed to the pigs.

What wonderful stories! We have the exorcism of a legion of demons in Luke’s gospel and a beautiful, fictional story of heroism by a modern day priest. If there were nothing more, we could take great comfort in the power of Jesus and the courage of a Christian disciple. But there is more. There is so much more, for the story in Luke does not end with the loss of a herd of pigs and the exorcism and destruction of many demons. That is only the backdrop for this story. The lesson is yet to come.

Word traveled fast. The people of the city came out to see. They found the man fully clothed and in his right mind. He was sitting in the disciple’s position; that is, he was sitting at the feet of Jesus. It was too much for the people. Their pigs were gone. Their local economy was endangered. This man Jesus had scared them in a way that left them off balance. Sadly, they just were not ready for the miracle. But the man…oh, was he ready!

The man begged Jesus to let him go with him. He was new. He was healed. He was ready. But Jesus told him to return home. Jesus told him to declare how much God had done for him. And the man went. Luke tells us that he proclaimed throughout the city how much God had done for him! The man full of demons was now consumed with the Holy Spirit. Once a demoniac, now he was a disciple of his Savior.

In the movies, art imitates life. The Exorcist ends with a touching scene in which the MacNeils are taking a trip to get away from the scene of so much pain and sorrow. The mother is saying her goodbyes to the parish priest. Regan is calm and looks perfectly at peace. Except for the facial scars that are healing, one would never know of her ordeal. As they approach the taxi, Regan spots the cross worn by the priest. A look of recognition comes over her face and she hugs the priest so tightly he is touched. She knows. Somewhere deep inside, she knows that her Savior is with her, has rescued her. The cross reminds her not only of some ordeal still vaguely in her memory, but also of the saving grace of God. Once again, art has imitated one of the great truths of life, that Jesus is never far away, that he rescues us from evil, from the abyss, even from our selfish desires.

The lessons of the demoniac with a legion of demons are several. One is that Jesus again identifies himself as Lord, able to not only calm the storms of life but equally capable of casting the worst demons away from us. Another is that Jesus is no respecter of class or rank. He comes to all of us in need, regardless of our pedigree. Just ask the Gentile full of demons.

But the lesson for me is that if we want Jesus to save us, if we want him in our lives, then we should expect him to give us a job. We must be ready for the miracle. When it comes, we will sit at the feet of Jesus, worshiping him and feeling the warmth of his presence. We will want to stay right there, but Jesus may want something else for us.

“…but Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.’ ” Discipleship comes with responsibility. We must do as the man did that day. We must do the bidding of our Savior. We must proclaim how much Jesus has done… for us.  

Faith Makes Us Right (Galatians 2: 15-21) 6/16/13

It’s Father’s Day. This week my thoughts turned to my father. He has been gone from his earthly home for fifteen years now, but as time passes, I seem to become more attuned to his presence. It is as though he has somehow merged with all those things I identify as spiritual about me and there, in that spiritual awareness, I can feel him. It’s hard to explain, but I am aware of my father and not just through memory. Do you sometimes have similar experiences with someone you loved who is no longer part of this world? Perhaps the explanation says more about me than it does about my father. Perhaps during those moments, I am more alive in the Spirit and less bound by earthly limitations. In Scotland, people go to certain spots which are called “thin” places. It is said that there is more chance to be in touch with the spiritual side of our world in these places. Whatever separates earth from heaven is “thinner”. In those times, I feel closer to God, more able to feel his presence in and around me.

How do you acquire right standing with God? In today’s passage, Paul begins to spell out his definition and summary of the gospel. Central to that gospel is justification by faith, a doctrine which is essential to understanding the path to salvation. In this passage, Paul proclaims belief in Christ’s redemptive death as the sole path by which believers can achieve salvation. Christ comes into our hearts and we become new creations. When this is accomplished, we are justified. God can look at us because Christ has justified us. In the eyes of God, we are clean and fresh and holy. Our sins have been bought and paid for. But how do we acquire this justification that Christ paid for? We have only to believe. We believe in Christ and in the message of his life, death and resurrection.

One of my “thin” places is right here on these church grounds. Sometimes, when I need to seek something deeper, I get up from my desk and do a walkabout through the sanctuary or to the cemetery or down to the lake. Somewhere in those moments, I usually find what I am looking for. I find a more solid communication with my Father. But this time, I’m not talking about my earthly father. In such times, I am looking for that solid ground where I can re-enforce my faith with my Heavenly Father.

In Galatia, visiting evangelists had apparently persuaded congregants in the churches there to become Jewish in their religious practices, most notably by circumcision. Paul pleads with them to return to the true gospel. His concern over their being misled is much bigger than a ceremonial rite. To believe what they are preaching is to abandon the gospel.

What Paul understood is what we need to understand. The Gospel is a message about God…not about us. The Gospel tells us how God reconciles us to Him, not how we reconcile ourselves to God. God comes to us and we have only to respond in belief.

Paul renounces the law as an avenue to salvation. This is no ordinary statement. It is a theological declaration of great magnitude. Works have nothing to do with righteousness. Only faith in Jesus Christ can result in salvation. Circumcision and other ritualistic practices of the Jews were just another attempt by men to produce worthy works as an avenue to salvation. Such practices were a stumbling block to understanding the real gospel.

My father forgave me a lot of indiscretions.  As I look back over the things I did and didn’t do growing up, there were many times where only the love of a parent could condone my actions. Forgiveness almost always came quickly. Of course there was punishment. Saying you’re sorry doesn’t do away with the crime or the sin. It just puts you back on the right road again. Even when forgiveness comes quickly, there is still the price to pay for the deed. But as I walked down the path of fatherhood, I finally began to understand the depth of caring and love that my parents had given to me. I never deserved it. I never earned it. It was their gift to me. I passed it on as best I could to my own children. God is like that with his children. That’s why he came up with justification. He cares that much about us.

The book of James, written by the half-brother of Jesus, the leader of the Jerusalem church, was circulating then and it suggested a relationship between faith and works that might seem to have been at odds with Paul’s thought expressed in Galatians. James stated that faith without works was not faith at all. Paul said that we are justified by faith alone. But works for Paul was the evidence of the love that faith inevitably fostered. Galatians actually amplified, rather than challenged, James’ thought. In such way, these two views come together rather than separate.

In today’s passage, Verse 16 is a collection of threes. The terms “justified” and “faith” and the phrase “works of the law” are each used three times. “Justify” is first and it is mostly a Pauline term. It appears thirty five times in the NT and twenty seven belong to Paul. Justified or made right (righteousness) is not a thing earned or made. It is, rather, imputed or declared; in this case by God.   Paul maintains that justification is the gift of God earned not by us, but by Christ. Christ earned it and we are the beneficiaries.

“Works of law” is the second term.  It is used eight times in Paul’s letters, always with justification and typically in contrast with faith.   Here, it seems to point toward all of the Old Testament law, at least the Mosaic Law. That’s pretty big, but the concept is much bigger. This is not just a doctrine for the Jews but for all. Indeed, if Paul were writing today, he might shorten the term to simply “works,” as opposed to faith.

Third in this speech of threes is “faith,” specifically faith in Jesus Christ. We might use it interchangeably here with belief.  This is God’s method for salvation. Faith is the key to justification. Theologian Philip Ryken puts it simply: “How does a person get right with God? Not by keeping God’s law, but by trusting in Jesus Christ.”  

          Paul says we must be crucified with Christ. How do we do this? By living a life of faith in Christ.  This is how a believer is born again. We share death—death to the old order—death to the law—and resurrection to new life, with Christ as the operative power.  The old life in the body, or flesh, or law—is our weakness. Although Christ has told us that the old has passed away, we are not yet fully ushered into the kingdom. This verse is a mirror into the already, but not yet. The kingdom of God has already come, but it is not complete until Christ comes again. The language here becomes very personal. Paul talks about Christ who loves “me,” who gave himself “for me.”  It is no longer ethnic identity or legalism, but relationship with God’s Son that matters, that defines. 

At the end of this passage, Paul restates the case. God’s grace cannot be set aside. To do so would be to return to the law as the basis for salvation. To do that would be to say that Christ’s death was unnecessary, indeed, that Christ died for nothing. But the verdict is in. We are justified, not because of ourselves or our deeds, but because of Christ.

If the law were essential to salvation, if we needed works to save us, then what is the cross all about? Why else would the Son of God go to that end unless to save man? Why else was he sent? Righteousness cannot be through the law or Christ’s death was for nothing. If it is as Paul says and as we believe, that justification is by faith in Jesus Christ, then Christ’s death and the cross mean everything to us. Tim Keller says it this way: “Christ will do everything for you, or nothing. You cannot combine merit and grace. If justification is by the law in any way, Christ’s death is meaningless in history and meaningless to you personally.”  

How to achieve right standing with God was the question.  Paul was not interested in boundary markers or ethnic distinctives then any more than we should be today. There are no entitlements, no birthrights.  It is the hard truth that goodness and accomplishments have no shelf life; indeed, they have no relevance when it comes not only to salvation, but also to living in faith. They are God’s accomplishments and they are God’s gift to us. These are tenets which set Christianity apart from other religions. Justification by faith is a call to make a personal commitment to Jesus Christ.  We are totally reliant upon God and our good works are simply acts of love given back to our Savior. Paul used the law itself to show it could not get us home by paraphrasing Psalm 143:2: “because by works of the law, no one will be justified.”

The door of life opens to all who would believe in Christ and accept him as their personal Savior. Christ alone is that door. It will always be about the Cross. This is the true gospel. This is Paul’s message to us. We are justified only by our faith in the One who died for us. By God’s grace we are saved through faith. It is just as if we had not sinned.

DON'T CRY (Luke 7: 11-17) 6/9/13

            In his early ministry, Jesus has drawn big crowds as he performs miracle after miracle. Early on, he heals the slave of a Gentile Centurion without even going to the site. The point of the miracle is to demonstrate the great faith of a believer and that such faith could come from the ranks of those qualified only by that faith.  After this miracle, Jesus leaves Capernaum and goes about a day’s journey to a town called Nain, which lay a few miles southeast of Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth. Near the town gate, Jesus encounters a funeral procession. A man had died. He was the only son of a widow who survived him. The man must have been a decent sort, as much of the town was with the woman as they carried out the body. The funeral cortege has already gone through the town. This is where Jesus saw her and the procession. The customary burial place would have been outside the town gates. To this day, about ten minutes walk from Nain on the road to Endor, there is a cemetery of rock tombs in which the dead are laid. Luke says he had compassion on her and said to her “Do not weep.”

          Like most stories in Scripture, we only get a capsule summary of an event and this is no exception. In first century Israel, the loss of an only son by a widow was a devastating blow. Women were not allowed to inherit property. Whatever she had from her marriage had gone to her son and now he was dead. He was probably not only her support; he was also by far the most sympathetic property owner she would know, for he was her son. With no husband and no sons, the property would revert to some male heir and she would quite probably become destitute. Did Jesus figure out all this from his momentary observation of the funeral procession? Perhaps he did, for such was the customary lot of widows in first century Israel. Perhaps that knowledge played a part in his feelings. We cannot know from the passage. What we can know is that Jesus felt compassion. He wanted to help. He was not asked. He just stepped up and intervened. He told the widow: “Don’t cry.”

          Don’t cry. How many times have you said that to a child or grandchild or spouse? Don’t cry. What does it mean when we say it? We are reaching out, trying to bring calm and reassurance to some situation. A child is injured and cries from pain. A young husband or wife goes off to deployment and the spouse is left behind. Someone dies and someone else survives. Don’t cry, we say. It will be all right, we say. How do we know it will be all right? What does it mean when we say…Don’t cry? How can we really help?

          That’s what Jesus said and he knew exactly what he meant. He meant that death was about to be conquered by the Son of God. He meant that he did not need to turn back time. He could just reverse what had happened, even if that event was death itself. Three times in Scripture, Jesus restores the dead to life. There is Jairus’ daughter and there is the famous story of Jesus’ friend Lazarus. But this is the first time. Jesus has up to this time performed great miracles, but this time…this time he is performing the ultimate miracle. Only God can raise the dead back to life. Only the Messiah is capable of such a miracle.

          We say “don’t cry” and part of what we are saying is that this too will pass. We say it because it hurts us to watch others hurt and we want it to stop. We say it because sometimes we know that it is a small thing and it will be okay in a while. We say it because we care. Lots of the time, we say it because we believe it. That is, we believe that whatever is wrong will be handled by the God we try to trust. It is our back door way of saying “Trust in God. He is there for you.” When Jesus said “Don’t cry,” he didn’t mean any of these things. He meant he was going to fix it, even if death was the problem.

          Luke tells us that Jesus came up and touched the bier. A bier was not a coffin. It was something used to transport the body to the grave, very often a long wicker-work basket. In ancient Israel, the dead were entombed rather than buried in the ground. More importantly than the mode of burial was Jesus’ action, He touched the bier. This made him ceremonially unclean. This would have stopped the procession. While Jesus was not concerned with ritualism, he did want to get everyone’s attention. He was about to perform a miracle that left no doubt of his identity; this was the Promised One. So Jesus, as he was wont to do, broke the rules of ceremony in order to reveal the keys to the kingdom. Sure enough, Luke tells us that the bearers…the pall-bearers to us, stood still.

          In all those times when you have tried to console your child or friend, in all those times when you reached out to hug…when the words were either insufficient or gone…think about how wonderful it would have been if you really had the power to fix what was bad. Imagine if when you said “Don’t cry,” you knew you could right the wrong or effect the cure. As it is, we reach out in love to show our support, hoping that we may be of some help. We reach out in the hope that we may comfort, and that is a good thing. But Jesus had something much deep in mind.

          Jesus says to the corpse: “Arise, young man.” The man sat up and began to speak. To put that in contemporary English, that’s “proof of life.” Luke says Jesus delivered him to his mother. In 1^st Kings 17, a story is told of the healing by Elijah of a widow’s son. When the miracle is accomplished, the Scripture says the Elijah delivered him to his mother, the exact words used in this passage about Jesus.

The reaction of the people is typical. Everyone is scared, and everyone is also glorifying God. The people call Jesus a great prophet and word spreads like wildfire all over the country. Some have argued that Jesus triggered an awakening from a cataleptic seizure rather than an awakening from death. Does it really matter? The history books are riddled with stories of people being buried alive. Jesus saved this man’s life. Is the miracle any less? Luke says the man was raised from the dead in front of a town full of witnesses. That will do nicely for me.

          This is the first of three different times in the gospels that our Savior raised someone from the dead. Three times, Jesus said to those who could hear, showed those who could see, that he was not just a great teacher, nor was he a great prophet of the magnitude of Elijah, to which this story has many parallels. Jesus was more. He was much more. Here was evidence of who he really is! He was even more than Messiah. He was and is the Son of God and he carries the power of God within his compassionate hands.

          Can you relate to the woman here? How many times has he come to your rescue without you even getting the chance to invoke your prayer for him? You have found him already there, already interacting with you, reaching out in compassion, for you are one of his children. Jesus knows who you are, where you live, what you think and, most importantly, what and whom you need. He wants you to communicate with him, but he is already intimately engaged in your life.

On that day long ago in Nain, Jesus felt compassion for a child of the kingdom, actually two of them. He restored a man to life. He also restored a widow’s hope for her future and the love of her life in her son. For the people there and for us as we ponder these things, he gives a sign. When Jesus says to us, whether through Scripture or through prayer or through the words of one of his children: “Don’t cry,” it’s not just an utterance of words of comfort. It’s an invocation.    We are invited to partake in the hope that comes from God’s power, from God’s compassion.

Jesus is able to fix it, no matter the size of the problem. We just have to believe it. His miracles are evident all around us. Don’t cry! Arise! If you just stop, look and listen, you’ll find him already there… waiting for you.

Faith Knows No Fences (Luke 7: 1-10) 6/2/13

            In the fourth chapter of Luke, Jesus goes down to Capernaum, a city on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. He performs many mighty acts in that area. In the sixth chapter he goes out to a mountain to pray. According to Luke, the next morning he chooses the twelve apostles from among those disciples following him. He goes down to a level place and preaches the Beatitudes to the large crowd gathered there. Soon afterward, he goes out to cities and villages proclaiming the good news and performing more mighty acts in testimony to his identity. In between these events, he performs three miracles. He raises a widow’s son from the dead, he forgives the sins of a sinful woman and he heals a Centurion’s slave.

          The three miracles in Chapter seven of Luke are important just because they are miracles performed by our Savior and recorded in the Gospel of Luke. But, like everything in the Word of God, there are more reasons than might first meet the eye that these stories survive the editor’s cut. What is special about these three stories sandwiched in between Jesus’ evangelistic ministry to large crowds?

          First, these miracles are done for the insignificant among us. All Jesus’ miracles have an element of dealing and uplifting the disenfranchised, but these three stories seem to be even more in that vein than usual. Jesus’ targets are the slave of a Gentile, the son of a widow and a fallen woman. These people are practically invisible. The Centurion had stature in the community, but his slave was nothing more than a piece of property. The son might grow to be someone, but the only son of a widow? What real chance did he have to make a mark in the world? A woman of the city had no credentials other than bad ones. These people were the unnoticed even while they were going about their daily lives.

          The stories are about faith…faith that exists at the edge of darkness…faith that bursts forth when there is no reason to have it…faith that perseveres when there would seem to be no more reason for its existence. These are the stories of people who hope beyond hope, believe in the middle of unbelief. These are stories which, as they played out in front of Jesus, touched him as he witnessed…acknowledged, the kind of faith he had been preaching and looking for. Jesus had commenced his ministry and was delighted to find those who were willing to live by faith.

          Commencement is one of those funny words. We hear it most often in conjunction with graduation exercises of one sort or another. We or our sons or daughters graduate from high school or trade school or college and we attend commencement exercises where they are recognized. We hear speeches and we celebrate. Finished! Graduated! Well, yes, but that’s not what commencement means. Commencement means the beginning! Commencement is most noteworthy for marking a point of beginning.  A point of beginning, by its very nature, also marks the end of something. How else could you begin had you not finished something? And yet, the emphasis of commencement, if we are to honor that which the word describes, is all about where we are going, not where we have been.

          Today, we honor those of our number  undergoing commencement exercises. They are moving on. Something has been finished, and something is about to begin. The story of Jesus in these opening chapters of Luke is no different. Jesus has finished thirty years of maturing. He has been baptized by his cousin John in the presence of witnesses and his heavenly Father. He has undergone forty days in the wilderness preparing himself for the experiences to come. He has commenced. His early ministry is underway.

In the passage at hand, we learn very early in Jesus’ ministry that faith is the switch that turns him on. In the story about the Centurion, we watch Jesus sought by a Gentile, a person until this point outside the scope of Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus does not hesitate to help. It does not matter to Jesus that the seeker comes from the other side of the tracks. It is unimportant to him the pedigree of the patient. All that matters is that the person has faith in Jesus, that he or she acknowledges Jesus as the Son of God.  That will take Jesus to some strange places. The places Jesus will go are both beautiful and ugly, down the road and right next door. The places Jesus will go are driven by a desire for service and obedience, not by ambition and self.

           “Oh, The Places You’ll Go.” was first published just a year before Dr. Seuss’s death at the age of eighty seven.  It was only fifty six pages, and only that long because of the very few words on each boldly illustrated page. Yet it contains some of the best advice outside of the Bible. It has been given out by teachers, principals and university presidents as a graduation present. It is highly read because it is highly truthful. In that respect, it makes a good companion for the Bible. The Bible makes a good companion for Dr. Seuss’s book, too, because the book says nothing about faith, and the Bible is all about faith. Dr. Seuss’s guarantee of 98 and ¾ percent is great, but Christians do even better.  Christians know, and learn even more clearly on their journey through life, that faith is the missing ingredient. Put it in the pie of life and you have the feast you’ve been looking for. Omit it and your life will be lived in frustration. You will never experience the joy that comes with faith.

          The Centurion had that kind of faith. In Luke’s gospel, curiously, Jewish friends are sent as the Centurion’s ambassadors, saying that he is worthy of help. The gospel of Matthew has the Centurion himself coming out to meet Jesus [Mt. 8: 5 et seq.]. Either way, Jesus commits to help. Before he can arrive, the Centurion sends friends to say that Jesus need not come; that his authority and power are sufficient to accomplish the task by willing it so. Now, Jesus is impressed. Now Jesus has gone somewhere new. Jesus has seen true faith.

Oddly for us as we read of this, that abiding, overwhelming faith comes not from a religious leader, not from a Jew, not even from a disciple. That faith comes from a Gentile stranger. Don’t we wish that we would see evidence of that faith from inside the church, or at least from inside our own circles of friends!

On that day in that place, the Savior of mankind commenced his ministry to the Gentiles. He taught that faith has no fences. He came after those who would believe, not those who presented birth certificates and other credentials of authenticity.

          Oh, the places Jesus went! He went to the religious leaders. He went to the Holy City. He went to the rivers and the mountains and the hamlets and the cities. He ate with the hated and drank with the outcasts. In the end, he traveled far beyond the geography of his life. His story is called the New Testament. He is the living Word of God and shows us still the way for us to go.

Now that these young people have graduated, they are going to commence their journeys. I remember my first graduation. It was from high school… a few years ago. As was the custom, my class donated something to the high school as a remembrance. It was the seal of our school and it was etched into the tile floor at the school’s entrance. The motto engraved upon it was this: “A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step.”  I offer that thought to you graduates today. As you commence that which comes next in your life, be it job or school or military or some other adventure, take a step. That’s the way you begin journeys, big and small. As Dr. Seuss said:

          You have brains in your head.

          You have feet in your shoes.

          You can steer yourself

any direction you choose.

You’re on your own. And you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

As you go, as you commence this next chapter of life, remember those who love you. Remember you are not alone. Remember that if you will let him, your Savior will mark every step of that journey with you.  And, for God’s sake, take the faith of that Centurion with you as your guide. He knew that Jesus could fix anything, even from a distance. He had faith in the power and authority of the Son of God and his faith was rewarded. His slave was healed and Jesus never even saw him.  If you take that kind of faith with you on your journey, you will succeed. And that’s 100% guaranteed!

Standing In Grace (Romans 5:1-4) 5/26/13

Standing in Grace

 Romans 5: 1-4

On the afternoon of Monday, May 21, 2013, Anna Canady and Jessica Simonds were teaching their kindergarten students at Plaza Towers Elementary School in Moore, Oklahoma. A mile away, Paula Fauble was doing the same thing at Briarwood Elementary. Sheryl Stoepker, a nurse, had just helped deliver a baby at Moore Medical Center. In a matter of minutes, everything changed. Only miles away and coming fast was an E5 tornado two miles wide, seventeen miles long and carrying winds of 210 miles an hour. It was headed right at them. There was no place to run, no place to hide. The fury of nature was bearing down on them in all its ferocity and power. More on that later.

The book of Romans is thought to be the fullest expression of the Apostle Paul’s theology. He is writing from Corinth to the church in Rome but has yet to visit there personally. In the opening verses of Chapter 5, Paul celebrates the blessings that come from justification by faith. He begins by simply reminding his audience that we Christians are justified by faith. While it helps to know that Paul is writing to the Christians in Rome, his words bring equal light and comfort to Christians today. The watchwords in this passage are faith, peace, access, rejoice and hope, and they are interconnected. Watch for them as we explore this passage.

Back in Oklahoma, it started out as an F1 tornado, which would have been bad enough, as it would have been accompanied by 100 MPH winds, but evidence indicates that within ten minutes, it had turned into an F5 and over 200 MPH. That’s not twice as bad. Scientists tell us it’s eight times worse. On the ground the wind force is greater than that of an atomic bomb at ground zero. That goes over the top of my ability to describe with words, but words are not needed. We have all seen the pictures and the video footage. Everything in the path of that tornado in Moore was either flattened, splintered or thrown hundreds of feet.

Paul said to the Roman Christians that since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ. We no longer stress over our inability to adhere to the law, to all the rules and regulations that would make us righteous. We are made righteous, not by ourselves, but by the atonement of our Savior. Our faith in Christ is all that we need. He is our refuge and our strength, just as the Psalmist says.

Tornados give signs, but little warning. What I mean is, weather people can tell us that conditions are favorable for a tornado, but that warning tends to be geographically wide, as it was that Monday. Much of that portion of the state was under a tornado warning. But the tornado itself comes with little warning and can gather strength very quickly. The monster came flying through the town of Moore, destroying everything in its path. When it got to the hospital, it looked like a hundred wrecking balls had hit simultaneously. But Sheryl Stoepker was ready. She was trained in emergency procedures, including tornadoes. She got that one hour old baby and its mother to the center of the hospital in the cafeteria where all were gathering. Sheryl and the new mother lay down on the floor and hugged, with the newborn in between them.   They are people of faith, and they began to pray. Over 250 people had gathered there and when the tornado hit, the winds pushed them into a big pile of bodies, but everyone survived. Sheryl calls it a miracle.

Paul says that through Christ we have obtained access by faith. How different from the days of the judges and kings of Israel. On the Day of Atonement, which came once a year, the high priest prepared himself meticulously for his annual venture into the Holy of Holies. He would disappear behind the veil and enter into God’s presence, where he would offer the blood of bulls as the sacrifice of the people. The people never entered this place. Indeed, the high priest himself entered it only once a year.   No more, says Paul. Through Christ we have also obtained access by faith to the grace in which we stand. The Greek word for access is prosagwh>n (prosagege). The word is used only three times in the New Testament, all by Paul. Every time, it is applied to Christ. It is the word used to mean introducing someone into the presence of greatness or the divine. Paul is saying that Jesus opens the door for us to God’s presence.

Access was important to Paula Fauble, as she and three other teachers at Briarwood Elementary gathered eighteen children into a hallway between the bathrooms. They put the children on the floor, put pillows between them and the adults and climbed on top of them. Four adults covering eighteen children. Paula says at one point all she remembers hearing were the prayers of the adults. Think of that. A tornado is coming through your building and all you can hear is the prayers of those around you. After the tornado, there was nothing much left of that wing of the building except the hallway where they had gathered.  Everyone survived. Paula lived only a block away. When she went home, it too was gone. Rummaging through the rubble, Paula found her tote bag, complete with comb and brush. She was delighted. Asked if she had lost her faith, she looked surprised. “Oh, no,” she answered. “My faith is stronger than ever….God took care of us.” Paula had access to God through faith…faith in the grace in which we stand.

Paul told the Roman Christians, and us, that we rejoice. We rejoice in hope and even in suffering. Our hope is for the glory of God. Our suffering is a road to more of that hope. As Paul says, it produces suffering, which produces endurance, which produces character. And character produces hope. And there we are again: back to hope. When we believe, we hope. When we hope, we will find God’s glory. We will even share in it.

Can you rejoice in the middle of a tornado? I don’t think I could, but I want to believe that I could hope. I want to believe that I could hope like Anna Canady and Jessica Simonds were hoping that Monday when the sky turned dark and they shielded those kindergarteners from the wrath of the tornado as it tore through Plaza Towers Elementary School. As they climbed on top of the children, a wall crashed down on them. Then a car flying through the air came to rest on the wall, wedging it in place. In some aberration of gravity, the car may have actually helped keep the wall in place as an overhead shelter. When workers came through after the tornado had passed on, they saw only Anna’s head sticking out of the rubble as she called for help.  They gathered enough people to roll the car from atop the wall. Then, one by one, the children were passed out to the rescuers. The adults were last. They all survived. Anna says that she kept asking God to take her instead of the babies. One of those babies was her own daughter. She just kept telling the children that it was going to be OK.

It is. It is going to be OK. As Christians we know that. As Paul tells us, through our faith, we have peace with God. Through Christ we know who God is. Through the Holy Spirit, we come to that personal relationship with him that gives us that peace, the peace that we are at home, that we are loved, that we are OK. Paul calls it justification. We might call it “right with God.”

Through Christ, we also have access, not only to God, but to his grace. It is the grace in which we stand, the grace by which we enjoy that access, the grace which gives us hope, that realistic expectancy that it really is going to be OK. That gives us reason to rejoice, a word Paul uses thirty five different times in the New Testament, and with good reason. Ask Anna Canady or Jessica Simonds or Paula Fauble or Sheryl Stoepker or a lot of other folks in Moore, Oklahoma. They are rejoicing in the midst of tragedy and suffering, because they have that peace and that hope which Paul talks about. Yes, people dies in that tornado, but we look at all that wreckage and marvel that so many survived.

          Stories of hope that come from experiencing God’s grace abound.  The Bible is full of them, from Joseph to Lazarus. God lives and he lives in our hearts. Our stories are his stories. Our victories are his victories. Our suffering only brings us closer to him.

Do you have a story? If you are one of his, you most certainly do. Why don’t you share that story with someone? You don’t need a microphone. You don’t need a TV camera. Just tell it to someone. If you’re telling your story about your experience with God, they will listen. In Moore, Oklahoma, they are calling all these stories “God-Winks.”  We need to do some winking of our own. We are all, as Paul says, standing in the grace of God. Don’t wait for a tornado to tell your story. Just stand in his grace…and start talking. God will do the rest.

Spirit Led (1 Samuel 17: 26-47, Romans 8: 14-17) 5/19/13

Spirit Led

 1 Samuel 17: 26-47, Romans 8: 14-17

            In ancient, biblical Near Eastern literature, a champion is a man who steps out to fight between the two battle lines. Sometimes a champion would fight on behalf of his entire people. It was a gamble. It was winner take all, so you had to have a lot of confidence in your champion’s ability. Such was the case for the Philistine army encamped at the Valley of Elah in the time of King Saul of Israel. The Philistines had a champion. His name was Goliath. He was six cubits and a span tall. In today’s measurements, that’s 9 feet 9 inches tall. His armor was made of bronze and weighed 125 pounds. His shield was 10 feet tall and he had an extra man just to carry it. Just the tip of his spear weighed 15 pounds. It was mounted on a shaft described as like a weaver’s beam. This guy had some serious size and some serious armor and weapons.

          Goliath came out from the ranks of the Philistines and shouted to the army of Israel, challenging them to send their champion to do battle with him. Scripture tells us that Saul and all Israel were dismayed and greatly afraid. One might ask at this point what the big deal is. Just say no and go to war with your army. Well, we are not told the numbers, but I’m thinking this was not really a good option for Saul. He must have been outnumbered and out weaponed and he probably knew it. He also was out of favor with God. The previous passage tells us that the Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul. He even sent for this teenage shepherd, the youngest son of Jesse. The kid was pretty good on the lyre, a musical instrument sort of like today’s flute. When he played the lyre, it soothed Saul. The kid’s name was David.

          Goliath came out every day for forty days and made his challenge to the Israelites. As God would have it, Jesse sent young David to the front lines to take cheese and grain to his older brothers in Saul’s army. Apparently, the armies were about to go to war when David showed and heard the challenge of Goliath. The teenager speaks up: “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?”

Word travels fast about the young man. David is sent to King Saul, where he volunteers to be Israel’s champion. Saul is unimpressed, but David does a little resume building. He has killed a lion and a bear with his bare hands. That is, says David, the Lord delivered him from the paw of both the bear and the lion.  And Saul said to David: “Go, and the Lord be with you.”

Now Saul himself is a seasoned warrior with lots of notches in his war belt. But Saul has broken faith with God and he isn’t feeling all that good about his chances. Was Saul impressed with David? Did Saul hear God’s voice again?  It’s really hard to tell from the text. Maybe he just didn’t want to be responsible for all that death about to happen to his people.

So Saul tries to equip David with his own helmet and armor and sword. David tried them on, but they just didn’t feel right. He ended up swapping them out for five smooth stones and a sling. Now David still carried his staff, and might have been lucky for him that he did. That’s what Goliath focused on, and maybe he didn’t notice the sling that David carried in his other hand. The Philistine hurls some insults at David and David responds. David says “I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts…This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand…For the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into our hand.”

You know the rest. Even Goliath’s size and his bronze armor could not protect him. The Scripture says that the Philistine was struck on the forehead. Surely his helmet was on. Did David hit the one square inch exposed? Did the power of his sling throw cause the stone to penetrate the bronze helmet? It hardly matters, for David was right. The battle belonged to the Lord. David, already secretly God’s anointed, was just the messenger.

In the eighth chapter of Romans, the Apostle Paul writes the Church in Rome, probably while he is in Corinth during his third missionary journey. Paul wants the church to know of God’s saving mercy. He says that those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.  Yes, if we are his God’s children, then we will suffer as Christ did. But we will also be glorified with him. You can almost hear the sound of David in the background saying “the Lord will deliver you.”

There is no other glory. Christians understand that there is the glory of God, and there is death. David said to the Philistines: you have defiled God’s army and you cannot stand. Paul said to the Romans and to us as Christians: Don’t fall back into the fear and slavery of sin. You are adopted. You are in the family. You are fellow heirs with Christ. Dare to let yourselves be led by the Spirit. There is no need to fear, for glory awaits.

In the old story of David and Goliath, we learn of a champion that would act for his people. The Philistine’s champion is Goliath. Israel’s champion is….no…not David. It is God himself. God is the champion of Israel. God is the champion of his people. From time to time, people are called upon to act as God’s messengers to a task or an event. David was one of those people. He, like Paul, was led by the Spirit of God.

David had the good sense to realize the source of his power. It didn’t come from armor or man made weapons. David’s power came from the courage to follow God’s will and to trust in the Lord to equip him with the tools to both do the task at hand and to deliver him from danger.

All of the time, people are called upon to be led by the Spirit of God. But we have to come to the task in humility and obedience. We have to recognize the source of our power. God will give us the tools we need to do the task at hand. We just celebrated Mother’s Day. Ask any Christian mother about the source of her power. This next week, we will celebrate Memorial Day and honor those among our number who gave all they had for our country. They gave that last full measure of devotion out of duty and a love of country. For those who now live with God, they also acted with the trust that God would deliver them. And he did. Ask any Christian soldier the source of his or her power. They too are Spirit led.

Never, ever fear to follow where God leads. Every one of us can be God’s champion. If we believe, we are adopted. If we are adopted, we are heirs. If we are heirs, God will deliver us. He promised.

A Call to Stay; A Vision to Go (Acts 26: 6-15) 5/5/13

            “Go West, young man,” said nineteenth century author Horace Greeley, although he probably borrowed it from newspaperman John Soule. He was referring to Manifest Destiny, the 1850’s movement to populate the American West and the desire of many to join the United States from the Atlantic to the Pacific. While the movement that may have been inevitable, it left many casualties in its wake.

          Mankind’s drive for adventure, to conquer, colonialize and occupy, is nothing new. It has been both blessing and curse, depending largely upon whether you are the mover or the moved. It is certainly not unique to emperors and kings. We can also find it in God’s Word. For instance, Abraham was called to a great Bedouin dynasty, Moses to deliver Israel from Egypt, David to unite the Northern and Southern Kingdoms of Israel.

          In some ways, Paul’s second missionary journey seems like a blueprint for God’s manifest destiny, for that second missionary journey could easily not have happened, and just as easily have gone in a different direction. The fact that it did happen, and that from it came the spread of Christianity to the West, has much to do with the survival of Christianity and its worldwide influence. And it all started with the Holy Spirit saying “No” to Paul.

          Ever start to take a step in the dark, and something holds you back? Ever start to do a job and it just won’t happen, as though some invisible hand is restraining you? Ever start to talk about something serious with someone and you know right away it’s the wrong time? We all have experiences like this, when somehow we are led to inaction. Usually it turns out that whatever we were about to do was not a good idea. Call it instinct. Call it Providence. Whatever it is, sometimes it can save your life, or save a relationship, or change the course of your life or someone else’s.

After the famous Jerusalem Council of Acts 15, where the leaders of the Jerusalem church affirmed Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles, Paul and Barnabas go down to Syrian Antioch. Soon after, Barnabas suggests that they return to the cities they had previously visited, but they disagree over whether to take Mark. This results in a split. Paul chooses Silas and departs for the region of Cilicia. In the city of Lystra, Paul meets a young man named Timothy, who joins the ministry.

Apparently Paul wants to go east into Asia, but Scripture tells us that the Holy Spirit forbade Paul to speak the word in Asia. Paul then wants to go north to Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus does not allow him. They continue westward to Troas, where Paul has a vision. In the vision, a man from Macedonia stands in front of him and urges him to come to Macedonia and help. Paul concludes that God has called them to preach the Gospel in Macedonia.

          The Trinity is all over this passage.  The Holy Spirit forbids Paul to speak in Asia. The Spirit of Jesus stops Paul from turning North or East.  A vision from God propels Paul the way he is to go. Paul is stopped twice from striking out in a certain direction. While we are not given the details, we are certainly made privy to the source of Paul’s inaction. God is preventing him! Paul is called to stay. Then, and only after two false starts, Paul concludes that God has called him to Macedonia. Paul’s direction comes from a vision in the night, perhaps in a dream.

          So armed with God’s vision, Paul and his friends go west to Macedonia, the region which we refer to today as Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece, or today’s Eastern Europe.

          Acts 16 is also the first recorded appearance of Luke as a participant in Paul’s ministry and not just Paul’s physician. Luke apparently joined Paul’s group, perhaps in Troas, as they set out for Macedonia. He may have come to treat Paul’s “thorn in the flesh.” Perhaps this ailment is what God used to hold Paul back temporarily. At any rate, Luke now narrates the story using the pronouns “we” and “us” throughout the passage. He is not only reporting; he himself is witnessing as they take the Gospel westward.

Paul’s group arrives in Philippi, a leading city and Roman colony in Macedonia. It was customary for Paul to first go to the synagogue for Sabbath worship, but Philippi had no synagogue. So they go outside the gate to the riverside, thinking it to be a good place for prayer and worship. And once again, Paul is thrown a curve. Rather than talking and sharing in the synagogue or to some gathering of men outside the city, Paul and his disciples engage with a group of women. Among them is Lydia, a seller of purple goods. She has come from Thyatira to set up her marketing business.

Lydia must have been quite a merchant. She was in a business that required a lot of capital. Purple goods were in great demand and also in short supply. The purple dye had to be gathered drop by drop from a certain shellfish. To dye a pound of wool in purple cost the equivalent of about $350. Lydia was probably at the top of the social scale of the time. Yet here she was at the river’s edge with a women’s prayer group. And Luke tells us that “the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul.” She and her household were baptized. Lydia became Paul’s first European convert.

This was Paul’s second missionary journey, but he had not been this far west the first time. Others had preceded him, and Lydia was probably not the first convert in Europe. But it is noteworthy that the first European convert recorded in God’s Word was a woman. Lydia’s home was to become a base of operations for Paul in future journeys. Her wealth and generosity probably helped finance his ministry. Perhaps God used Luke’s gospel here to point out how important women were to the spread of the Gospel from the very beginning.

While these stories are helpful to show us where and how the Apostle Paul’s ministry began to penetrate beyond the confines of Palestine, they are even more important to illustrate how God worked then and how he works now. Paul was held back. God the Holy Spirit and God the Son held him back from going east and north into Asia. This must have been confusing and frustrating to Paul. We are not told how Paul was restrained, but clearly God restrained Paul from going his intended way. For a time, Paul was called to stay.

Like Paul, we have sometimes thought sure we were in a position to do God’s work, only to be thwarted and held back. Obviously, Asia was reached by Christian missionaries, but it was not God’s will for Paul to carry that banner. God had other plans for Paul.

When God was ready for Paul, Paul was given the vision to go. For Paul, it came in the form of a vision in the night, but God’s call comes in as many ways as there are people. Some of us are called to go across the street, others to the far regions of the world. The call is no less important in our dens and kitchens than it is in third world huts and grass houses. And when the vision comes, we should do as Paul did. We should immediately make plans to follow that call.

Equally important was the way God chose to use Paul in Philippi. Rather than debate with philosophers, as he did in Athens, or engage with religious leaders, as he did in synagogues, God took Paul to a riverbank and a small group of women. God led Paul to Lydia, opened her heart to receive the message, and from such unlikely beginnings, established a base of operations that was to aid Paul and others in their mission to Europe.

The work of God can be done by all of us, but it is done best when we are guided by the Master. He will take us to people and places that we would never have gone under our own direction. In what Paul might have characterized as misdirection, he was introduced to Timothy, his son in the faith, to Lydia, his first European convert, and to Luke in yet another calling, as he grew from doctor to reporter to missionary in his own right.  

The prophet Isaiah reminds us that “From days of old they have not heard or perceived by ear, nor has the eye seen a God besides You, who acts in behalf of the one who waits for Him” [Isa. 64: 4]. It’s amazing what can happen when we listen. Where one door closes, another is opened. When we wait for God, great things are possible. We too can experience visions of our own. They may come from prayer or conversation or just being still. When we wait for God, he will be faithful to guide us. As Paul found out for himself, a call to stay is just the prelude to a vision to go.