Two Gates

                Matthew 7: 13, 14     Luke 13: 22-27

        In the thirteenth chapter of Luke, as Jesus is making his way through the towns and villages of Judea on his way toward Jerusalem, someone in the crowd asks: “will those who are saved be few?” Jesus answers that the door to heaven is not wide, but narrow, that they should strive to enter through the narrow gate, that many who seek to enter it will not be able.

A similar lesson appears in the gospel of Matthew, this time introducing the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus says: “Enter through the narrow gate, for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

Just before this verse, Jesus restates the Golden Rule, saying: “In everything do to others as you would have them do for you.” Jesus says this is the law and the prophets, meaning this is all you need to know about what God has commanded for us. If we are to understand what Jesus is getting at about the two gates, we must pay attention to what comes before and behind. Before, Jesus says love your neighbor. After, Jesus says beware of false prophets. In the meat of this literary sandwich, he talks about the roads of life we choose, the gates we enter. The choices we make affect the life we lead and the destination to which it takes us. Living by the Golden Rule is a choice. So is who you listen to.

When you travel the Interstate highway, even numbered highways go east and west and odd numbered highways go north and south. When you come to the entry of the interstate, you are faced with a choice. If you are on highway 85 or 95, as is often the case here, you must choose. North or South? Which will it be?  I have found one exception. If you are in Florence and going to the beach, you can save time by going north for seven miles on I85. Then you go south again. For seven miles, you go opposite of your chosen direction. Sometimes life makes you do the same thing.

In these two passages, Jesus is not concerned about saving time. He is concerned about saving lives. In Matthew there are two gates. In Luke, there is a door, and at some point, the door shuts. What do these evangelists want us to see?

In his gospel account, Matthew has Jesus opening up two possibilities, the narrow and the wide gates, the narrow leading to life and the wide leading to destruction. Have you ever thought about such implications? Have you ever seen your life in this way? Where are the gates? Are they marked? Surely one would not pick the path to destruction purposefully!

In Matthew, Jesus talks to a gathering of many, maybe thousands. All are facing choices. Shall they go home? Shall they follow this young preacher who says he is the Son of God? What if they do? Will it make a difference in their day? In their lives?

In Luke, our Savior seems to be teaching on the move, bringing his pupils to understand that there are choices, and that those choices do not stay forever at our disposal. Many parables follow in this discourse. In their own way, they all point to the choices in our lives and the outcomes to which they lead.

The picture on the screen is of a path. It’s just a dirt path. When the path gets to the tree, it forks. Now there are two paths. Life works like that. You go along, minding your own business, trying to stay on the straight and narrow, and then your path forks. Now you have a choice. The paths look pretty much the same. One might be a little wider and more worn, but not that much different. One path is with friends from church. The other is with some new and exciting friends you don’t know too well. One path will keep you out beyond your curfew or make you late for an appointment. But shucks, life is short. Better make hay while the sun shines. Life is one set of choices after another, and each comes with its own set of consequences.

So many consequences from what at first blush looks like a small choice. Wouldn’t it be nice if the paths were marked? One would say Life, the other Destruction. That’s what Jesus seems to be saying to us in the Matthew account. But usually, these choices look more like left or right, or today or tomorrow. They don’t look that dangerous at the time. It’s just a pill to keep you awake.  Or a drink to calm your nerves. Or a little shop-lifting just to add spice to a boring day. It’s just another one of those gates. Not that big a thing, is it?

When you start paying attention, you begin to notice that those gates are everywhere. You first thought it was just about minding your parents or obeying the law. Then it was about your friends or your habits. Sometimes it seems like there is nothing that doesn’t involve choices. And that’s exactly what Jesus is getting at. Life starts out looking like a super highway and somewhere down that road and all too soon, it turns into a one-way street with no shoulders.

So in Matthew, Jesus seems to tell us that entering the

wrong gate can ruin our life, and that many people do just that. Then in Luke, he tells us that the way to life is about getting through that narrow door of belief and obedience and that you had better not tarry, for the door will shut one day. When it does, no amount of knocking will get you in.

          Man! That’s several different ways to fail. Pick wrong. Pick late. Either way, you’re on the outside looking in. It seems like the deck is stacked against us.

          But read on. Remember to eat the whole sandwich and not leave the crust. In Matthew, Jesus is telling us to practice what we say we believe by treating others as we want to be treated. Then on the other side, he warns us to watch who’s doing the talking.  Check the warranty. Kick the tires. Sometimes, those leaders speak from both sides of the issue and say nothing except give your money right here.

          Luke is also instructive. Before we get to the narrow door, we are asked to repent, to change our ways. On the other side of the door story are several parables which bear remembering right here. After the parables of the wedding feast and the great banquet, which warn us to be ready, come two more parables: that of the lost sheep and of the prodigal son. There is our Savior, reaching out for us, going to find us, bringing us back from the edge of the cliff and saving us with his unconditional love. There is the prodigal son, spent and washed up. He has walked a far piece past the wide gate of destruction. And yet, he turns. Just like going north on I85 to get to the southbound road, he finds a path back to where he began and he takes it. The trail may not be marked, but he finds his way. And at the end of that not so well marked path waits his father with open arms, taking him in and celebrating the return of the lost son who is now---found! These, too are the stories of Jesus. These, too, are the stories of God!

          Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. One of his poems seems to fit the situation so well today, I thought you might like to hear it. I hope it speaks to you as it did to me.

                    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

Two gates? Yes. And there are consequences to our actions. But there is forgiveness before the throne of grace for those who turn back or choose that narrow road.

    Killing the Messenger

                  Luke 13: 31-35

 The thirteenth chapter of Luke is rich with events. Jesus is making his way through the towns and villages of Judea, journeying toward Jerusalem. In this chapter, he talks about the need for repentance. He tells stories and parables. He stops to heal a disabled woman. He talks about the kingdom of God, comparing it to a mustard seed and to leaven, to how small they begin and how big they become. Someone asks: “will those who are saved be few?” Jesus answers that the door to heaven is not wide, but narrow, that many who seek to enter it will not be able. He seems to say that those who cannot enter will be able to see the prophets of the kingdom from a distance, but  even so close, will not be able to enter.

Then there is this not as famous story about Jesus. As Jesus is talking, some Pharisees arrive. While most of what we read in the gospels is disparaging of the Pharisees and their incessant legalism, not all of them were like that. Jesus did have friends among the Pharisees. Some of them approach him to warn him. “Get away from here,” they say, “for Herod wants to kill you.” In context, Jesus must have still been in the region of Galilee. Herod’s jurisdiction did not extend to Jerusalem where Pilate was in charge. Herod has already had John the Baptist beheaded, so he is certainly one to be feared. So some of Jesus’ friends, drawn from the ranks of the Pharisees, warn him of the danger.

This is a scene of messengers and messages. There is Luke, the writer of this passage. He has a reason for giving us this scene over many others he might have selected. There are the Pharisees. They bring a message of warning. There is irony here, that a group known principally for its legalism comes here to warn of the long arm of the law of Herod. There is Jesus, who responds with a message of his own. And there is the audience, the audience then and the audience now. There is a message here for us as well.

Jesus talks about his mission, that he has a job to do. He says that regardless of the Herods of the world, he must go on his way until he finishes his course. He still has demons to cast out and cures to perform, and the threat of danger is not sufficient reason to deter him from his ordained course. And that, I think, is why the passage is here. Luke wants us to know, to experience as if we were actually there with Jesus, that Jesus has a ministry, a divinely ordained ministry, that it must go on to its fulfillment regardless of human opposition.

So we see Jesus confronted with real danger, but with a warning which might allow him to act for his personal safety. He declines. That is something else that Luke wants us to see, that Jesus didn’t take the safe route. Even when he had a choice, he chose his ministry over his safety.

The Greek word for messenger is angelos (αγγελοϛ). It means one who is sent. Angels from God are present throughout the Bible, appearing to Mary, to Joseph, to Mary Magdalene and others. In every case, they bring a message from God. In every case, they say “Fear not.” This passage is no exception. Here, we see messengers in very human form delivering a message. The Pharisees are just as much from God as if they had the wings of angels, for God intended that they deliver this message.

Jesus answers with his own message. Go tell that fox I have things to do. I will finish my ministry. If he wants me, he can find me in Jerusalem. That’s where my ministry will be completed. Jerusalem, the home of so many prophets unheeded, is my destination also. Jesus calls Herod a fox, perhaps because he is sly or clever, but more likely because he is of little importance to Jesus. In the literature of the time, foxes were often viewed as insignificant. Power was attributed to the lion, not the fox. And Jesus doesn’t call Herod a lion. Jesus is looking forward. He has a date with destiny and he knows not only the time, but the place.

Jerusalem. Jesus calls it the city that kills the prophets; that stones the messengers. It is not kind to those who bring the news. We are reminded of other times and circumstances. In the book of 2 Samuel, a young Amalekite soldier brings the crown of Saul to David. The soldier has taken the life of the wounded king rather than have him perish from his own sword. David rewards the soldier’s truth telling and judgment with an execution. The messenger was killed for the message he delivered.

More contemporary to our story is that of John the Baptist, who brought Herod the message that his marriage was not lawful. For that, John was beheaded. Today, we have laws to attempt to protect whistleblowers, those who tell the truth about what their employers are really up to. Those laws are designed to protect these messengers, from danger. Sometimes the laws work. Many times they don’t. Killing the messenger has deep roots in the history of mankind.

The word Jerusalem is used three different times in two verses. Luke is calling attention to it. This is where the people of God gather. This is the home of the Temple. This is the city of destiny. Jesus talks about Jerusalem as if he were its mother, longing to gather in his children as a hen gathers her chicks. But his lament—and his pronouncement—is that such is not to be, for Jerusalem, meaning God’s people, will not allow it. They resist the message and cast out the messenger.

Of course, Jesus knows that his message is falling on deaf ears. He speaks of Jerusalem’s forsaken house, perhaps in reference to the Temple, but more broadly alluding to the people themselves. They have rejected both the messenger and the message. He says they will not see him again until the end of the age, quoting the Psalmist in Psalm 118: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  

Jesus also knows his time on earth is drawing short. He is on his way to Jerusalem to meet his destiny—to complete his ministry. At this point, the Gospel is not yet fully written. There is still the passion—Jesus’ crucifixion, death and resurrection—yet to be accomplished. That is the rest of the message, but not the end of the ministry.

Luke and the other gospel writers are messengers. They tell the story of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. They tell us why we should believe. They are the eyewitnesses and the interviewers of the eyewitnesses. They use the written word to record the events that changed not only their lives, but also the lives of all who believe the message of the gospel.

But the ministry is far from over. Jesus promised the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter. He promised to build his church upon the rock of people like Simon Peter. And that he did. Jesus did send the Holy Spirit to dwell in our hearts and he did build his church. Even today, the Church is the rock upon which Christianity rests. It is Christ’s messenger, the angelos who carries on with his ministry. We are the hands and feet and yes, the mouths with which his message is delivered.

There are forces and powers today who would silence the messenger. But as the angels say with every message they bring, we must Fear not. There is good news to tell, and there are people here and around this community and all over this world who are waiting for us to bring that message. We are the messengers because we are the Church. We cannot be silenced. Our message cannot be corrupted. It is life itself that Jesus promises. We are the wings of that promise. As Jesus showed us, sometimes the messenger must lay down a sacrifice. But the message will never die until he comes again in the name of the Lord. And we have work to do---kingdom work!

Calling on His Name

               Romans 10: 8-13

 Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to live your life with fewer rules? Everywhere you go, everything you do, there are rules to follow. If you drive a car, there are rules of the road. You have to pass both written and driving tests before you can get a driver’s license. Go to the local swimming pool and you will find a posted set of rules for you to follow if you want to swim. The laws of this state take up about fifteen feet of shelf space. Even a kindergarten classroom has a list of rules, though most kindergarteners don’t arrive at school armed with the knowledge of how to read those rules.

In the book of Exodus, God handed the people of Israel Ten Commandments, ten rules to live by. Of course, by the time of Jesus, that set of ten rules had expanded through men’s interpretations to a legal system of 613 laws. 248 were positive. 365, one for every day of the year, were negative. There were 39 different categories of work alone, and sub-categories underneath those.

Without changing the law at all, Jesus reduced it to two rules. We call them the Great Commandments, loving God and loving our neighbor as much as we love ourselves. Jesus let us know that he came not to change, but to fulfill, the law that God had handed down to Moses at Mt. Sinai.

But the Jews never got the message; at least many of them didn’t, and that’s okay, because it was in God’s plan all along. The message of the gospel, the plan of salvation, was never meant to be for the Jews exclusively. They were the movie screen on which God told his story to a watching world.

Of course, Paul knows this. He spends all his efforts in Romans 9-11 condemning not the Jews, but their attitude toward the gospel. They have failed to see Jesus as the Son of God, the Messiah on whose arrival they are still waiting. Paul, a Jew himself, was sad that his own people could not see the forest for the trees.

Paul quotes Moses’ farewell speech some 1300 years before: “But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it” [Deut. 30: 14]. What Moses was saying about teaching is what Paul is saying about the gospel, that it is not difficult to find or hard to discern. Rather, it is in us. It is part of who we are. It doesn’t matter about our pedigree. It doesn’t matter about where we come from, how much education we have, how much money we make. What matters is that we see it, we acknowledge it, and we live it. Theologian John Stott says this passage reminds us that the gospel has been made accessible to us all by Jesus. God plays no favorites. The common denominator is also the divisive factor. Do you believe? Answer that question in the affirmative and you are in God’s camp. Do you believe? Forget the rules and answer that question.

The word is very near you, says Moses, and Paul echoes him. Paul goes farther and says that the word is “the word of faith that we proclaim.” In the time of Moses, the word was God’s commandments, loving God and walking in his ways. In this passage Paul quotes Moses, but Paul takes us to another level, to faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Some have called the proclamations in verses 9 and 10 the basis for the first Christian creed: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” Billy Graham loved this sentence. I think he said it in every crusade I ever heard. No 613 laws, no complicated set of rules. Just say it and believe it. What is “it?” It is that Jesus is Lord of all and God raised him from the dead. Confess and believe the lordship of Jesus, his death and resurrection. And Paul ties that wonderful package into a bow by asserting that belief is the key—not knowledge or family tree or power—just belief.

Think about the promise made here. Think about what it means. We don’t have to do anything. It’s already been done for us. We just have to own it. If we let Christ into our hearts, the gospel comes with it. Then we need to say it aloud. That’s part of the ownership. Paul seems to be saying that the two go hand in hand. You believe with your heart. This makes you justified, righteous. But it is incomplete without confessing that lordship of Christ publicly. Paul says that one confesses with the mouth and is saved. So our salvation depends upon our acting on our belief. It’s like faith and works. Without works, where is the proof of your faith? Without confession of your belief, how can you be seen to believe? Inward belief leads to outward confession.

In addition to quoting Moses, Paul draws upon Joel, a prophet to the southern kingdom. Joel is a curiosity. Scholars cannot agree upon when he lived, and date him from the eighth all the way to the fourth century BC.  Joel was primarily concerned with the day of the Lord, the coming of God to judge, and he prophesied about that event and what it would mean. Paul borrows from Joel to illustrate that Jesus has come, not for a specific people group or nation, but for all who believe. He says it three different ways. First, he says that there is no shame for those who believe in him. He follows that with the statement that the Lord’s riches will be bestowed upon all who call on him. Last, Paul quotes Joel (2:32), saying that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Three straight times, Paul tells us to believe in Jesus and call upon his name. Is there a message here?

While we’re quoting Joel, don’t miss what happened here. Way back, hundreds of years before Christ came to earth, the prophet Joel is saying that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. Did Joel mean every one of the Jews who call on God’s name? Maybe.  But what did God mean? It doesn’t take a theologian to figure out what Paul means, and what he thinks Joel meant. Paul identifies with Joel’s prophecy, interpreting it as a signature of salvation on all who call on the name of Jesus.

In context, we need to remember that much of Paul’s writing, and certainly the scripture here, is a defense to his ministry to the Gentiles. The church is a new creation and in its infant stages. Paul feels compelled to justify his position. Some accused him of being an apostate, a person who had abandoned his belief. Theologian Thomas Schreiner explains Paul’s stance this way: “Since the same Lord is the Lord of all and since the OT itself anticipated that Gentiles who call on his name would be saved, the inclusion of Gentiles into the church is not a sign of Pauline apostasy but rather an evidence that the last days have dawned in which God is fulfilling his saving plan” [Romans, p. 562].

This is a wonderful and simple passage. In the same way that we don’t have to know what century Joel prophesied in, that we don’t need to know whether Joel fully understood the far-reaching arm of his words, neither do we have to wonder about what nationality or gender or race we are. Jesus claims all who call on his name.  This is the wonder of this passage.

In the same way that Jesus reduced centuries of man-made laws and regulation to two simple rules of love, so Paul has here reduced the entire gospel and its entire message to two simple points. Believe it and say you do. Believe that Jesus is risen from the dead, that he lives forever and then confess that belief with your lips. This is the simplicity of this passage, If I might dare to add to Paul, it would be that confession is not just a saying. It is much more an action. It is the way we do business with this thing called Christianity. Do we confess it, or do we ignore it?

To say that Christ died for us is certainly true and it is awesome. But it is also incomplete. He rose! He lives for us too! To leave Christ on the cross as our martyr is an unworthy Christianity. He is so much more. He is our victor! Believe it and confess it, every way you can, every day you can, to everyone you can.

       Piercing the Veil

           2 Corinthians 3: 12-4:4

 

 

          In the book of Exodus [Exo. 34], Moses goes up on the mountain and has an encounter with God. It is so intense that when Moses comes down the mountain, his face is literally shining. Moses has to cover himself with a veil to talk to his people, as they are blinded by his appearance. Every time Moses goes up the mountain to meet with God, he removes the veil and every time he comes down to the people, he wears the veil. The people cannot bear to come too close to the presence of the Lord, even when it is only the reflection given off from the face of Moses.

          In the book of 2 Corinthians, Paul is writing to the church about coming to Christ. He is talking about being ministers of the New Covenant, a covenant centered on Jesus and the Holy Spirit rather than the law. When Paul talks about the law, he is talking about the relationship created in the Old Testament between God and his people, the set of rules grounded in the Ten Commandments and everything that followed from that first set of laws.

          In order to explain what the Gospel is and what the New Commandment is all about, Paul chooses to contrast it with the Old Commandment, the Mosaic Law. Sometimes Paul gets so charged with enthusiasm for his cause that he goes overboard.  But there is a reason for him to be so commanding. In the church in Corinth, there are those who continue to see the Gospel through the lens of being Jewish, as opposed to being Christian. Paul continues to press them to see the new truth that has been revealed through Jesus, and the gospel is a new definition of who God’s people are.

          Paul reminds us that we are members of the New Covenant, that we have great hope, that such hope should make us bold. He talks about us not having to wear a veil when we turn to the Lord, because Jesus has bridged the gap between us and God.

          Over the life of my law practice, I have incorporated hundreds of organizations, from plumbers and electricians and builders to churches and chambers of commerce. The main reason most people incorporate is protection from personal liability. Provided they follow the rules and do not hold themselves out personally in the wrong way in what they say, they can enjoy the protections of personal liability afforded by the law. But if they step over the line, making promises and representations of a personal nature, then the result may be that they may become personally liable for their actions. The legal term for this is “piercing the corporate veil.”  The protection of incorporating is made void by our actions. The veil is torn away to expose us.

          In today’s passage, Paul uses this metaphor of the veil to describe how Moses hid his face from God’s people after encountering God. The plain reading from Exodus would seem to say that Moses’ face was so bright after such an encounter that the people couldn’t take such illumination. It was just too much for them to take in. But in this passage in 2 Corinthians, Paul is using that Old Testament encounter with God to illustrate that Moses covered his face in order for the people not to notice that the illumination was temporary, that it would fade over time. Paul wants us to understand that in the same way that Moses’ face faded in its brightness, so too does the Old Testament law. It is not a saving vehicle, but rather an exposing vehicle.  Paul then contrasts that to the saving grace of Jesus and to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. The law is not enough, but the gospel is.

          Now, it seems to me that Paul has stretched the veil metaphor about as far as it can stretch. His take on its use is really not very close to that of Exodus. But, as we have acknowledged, Paul had a different audience and he was dealing with Jewish issues that today we don’t even think about. He was spreading a gospel rooted in, but no longer bound by, the Old Testament law.

          Whether you are applying Old Testament law or American corporate law, the result is the same. The veil to which we refer is there to protect us. In Exodus, it protected the people from a God they were not prepared to see. In the law, it protects our personal assets.

          But Paul’s next point in this passage is worth any amount of stretching to get to, for he says: “But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.” Think about that in light of the reason why the veil is used in the first place. Remember ii is used to protect us, in one way from others hurting us and in another, from the presence of God consuming us. When one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.

          What does Paul mean? When we turn to the Lord, the veil is removed. But Moses himself could not look directly into the face of God. Although he removed the veil, the Bible says he stood in the presence of God, not looking at God’s countenance. What is Paul getting at?

          In his report of the death of Jesus, Luke tells us that darkness came about the sixth hour and stayed until the ninth hour. The light failed and the curtain, the veil, of the temple was torn in two. Jesus breathed his last. The veil of the temple, the curtain protecting the people from the Holy of Holies, was torn down. What is the significance of that report from Luke?

          When Paul writes about the Lord here, he is using the Greek word kurios, which means Lord. When Paul uses kurios, he is referring to Jesus. When he talks about God, Paul uses another word. So Paul is saying that when one turns to Jesus, the veil is removed. In the same way that Paul talks to the Corinthians about the power of Jesus, Luke talks about the veil of the temple coming down. That too is in response to Jesus.

The point that Paul is hammering home to us is that Jesus is the key, that Jesus is the reason, that Jesus is the way to God. Jesus lifts the veil, whether it is in the temple, where misguided religious leaders attempt to keep the Spirit of God hidden behind a man-made curtain, or on a mountain top, where we may encounter God one-on-one, or in the reading of the written Word, a privilege made available to us only in the last 5 centuries. Jesus lifts the veil and as Paul says, we can see him in all his glory. With the coming of Jesus, we who believe are all becoming transformed into the very image of him who saved us.  

Can all see it? Can all hear it, this gospel which unveils the very presence of Jesus to us? Paul says no, the gospel remains veiled to those who are perishing, to those who have been blinded by selfish and evil pursuits. No, the gospel will not be heard by everyone, says Paul. At least it will not be heard in a saving way. As Jesus said, he who has ears, let him hear.   Sometimes, the veil we wear for protection does us more harm than good. If it acts as a barrier for the truth, it protects us not only from intrusion but from illumination as well.

Paul says that the Lord (Jesus) is Spirit, that the presence of the Spirit brings us freedom, that through the Spirit, we believers can be transformed into that divine image. Paul is not only calling us to a deeper walk with God; he is trying to get us to acknowledge that deep abiding presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives as Christians. As we are transformed, so can we transform others. We call it witness…putting the power of the Spirit to work in our lives and turning that energy loose on those who are around us. The Holy Spirit is not an idea. He is not a concept. He is a person, living in us.

And that’s what it means to be unveiled. Jesus pierced that veil of separation between us and God. If God lives in us…can we not look at God more clearly? If the Holy Spirit guides us, can we not do without other protection? Let the Holy Spirit pierce your earthly veil of protection and let yourself be vulnerable to the light. The light of Jesus! Not only will it not blind us—it will make us see!

Going Where He Sends Us

Jeremiah 1: 1-10

           Imagine being eighteen or twenty years old and getting a very clear, pressing, non-negotiable call…from God. At any time, it is life changing. I can attest to that in my own life. But imagine at such a young age. Jeremiah had such an experience. He was called before he had an opportunity to do much living. God wanted him early.  He had big plans for Jeremiah as a prophet to God’s people.

          I’ve always thought that if I were given a choice between judge and prophet, I would take judge hands down. Judges had power. They were leaders. They could effect change. They had armies under their command. On the other hand, prophets were mouthpieces. They were like Doppler radar. They were the early warning systems for the people of Israel, but they weren’t predicting the weather. They did predict climate change, but it was the religious and political climate with which they were concerned.

          The Old Testament contains seventeen books written or attributed to the prophets. Twelve of them are called Minor Prophets, not because of their message, but because of their length. Five others, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel and Daniel, are called major because they are longer. They were called prophets not because they could see the future, but rather to call attention to the present. They were commissioned by God to warn God’s people that disobedience would come at a cost.

          Jeremiah, also called the weeping prophet because of all the bad news and times he lived through and prophesied about, covered a lot of ground. Some commentators characterize him as the persevering prophet. I think that is more accurate when we examine the life of this servant of God. His ministry, and yes it was most definitely a ministry, lasted a long time. It started in the year 627, about midway through the reign of King Josiah, the last “good” king of Judah, and ended in Egypt some forty one years later, when Jeremiah and his scribe Baruch were forced to go there with the leaders of the coup against Gedaliah, the governor of Judah appointed by the king of Babylon.

Jeremiah’s ministry witnessed the reign of good king Josiah, the fall of Assyria to the Babylonians, the rise of Egypt while the Babylonians consolidated their power, the further rise of the Babylonians, and a succession of kings of Judah including Jehoahaz, Jehoiakim, Jehoichin and Zedekiah, followed by the appointment of Gedaliah, a Judean, by Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon.

          Confused? Don’t worry. Think of it this way, that Jeremiah was around at the fall of the Southern Kingdom (Judah) and that he prophesied to God’s people during the reigns of five kings and an appointed governor. The world changed greatly in the time of Jeremiah, and that indeed is part of his message, that God’s loyalty and justice never change, even in the midst of earthly turmoil.

          When God called Jeremiah, it was in the middle of good times. Josiah, the boy king, had united the people. He listened to God. Yet just twenty years or so after Josiah’s reign had ended, the country was mired in political, social, moral and spiritual decay. 

          I started out in the Navy as a deck officer aboard a ship. Part of my duties were to take care of the “aft” portion of the ship; the fantail, the stern, the back end, so to speak. What that entailed was, among other things,  painting. My division trained for many tasks, but before and after the training, there was painting. First, we painted with red lead, a red primer designed to seal rust. Then, we painted with Navy gray paint. That was one of my first lessons that much of what we do in this world is maintenance. It’s not glamorous, but it has to be done. “Red-leading” kept the rust off my ship.

Now what has my job as a painting superintendent got to do with prophecy? More than meets the eye at first blush. Think about your own experiences. What parts of your life need “red-leading?” Red-leading keeps the rust off your children and the way you do business with your life. The people of Israel forgot to do the maintenance of their culture and it rusted.

          Jeremiah was of the tribe of Benjamin, which was one of the two priestly tribes. He was born to go into the priesthood. But being called to be God’s prophet was entirely different. It would change Jeremiah’s life. If you look at the scripture for today, you can see four related but separate actions that God took when calling Jeremiah. First, we are told that that God knew Jeremiah. He knew him before he was born, before he was even formed in his mother’s womb. Before Jeremiah ever drew a breath on this earth, God had already begun a relationship with him.  Not only that, the “before” used here applies to Jeremiah’s call as well. God has claimed Jeremiah for his divine purpose before he enters the world. Thirdly, the scripture says that before he was formed or born, he was consecrated; and fourth, that again, before he was formed or born, he was appointed by God. Before Jeremiah was ever conceived by man, he was in relationship with God; he was claimed, consecrated and appointed by God…for kingdom work.

          All this is revealed to Jeremiah. The word of the Lord comes to him and tells him this much. And yet, Jeremiah acts in the way that you and I would most probably act. Put yourself in the shoes of Jeremiah. You’re walking home and the voice of God comes to you and tells you that you are appointed a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah starts with the disclaimers. Come on, God, I’m just a kid. This is special work. I don’t have the verbal skills. I just got out of high school. I’m just getting started here. I don’t know how to be a prophet.

          And what did God say? No sweat. Don’t even say all that stuff. I’m God, remember? “For to all to whom I send you, you shall go,” No fear! I’ve got your back. I’m with you. I will deliver you.

          For Jeremiah, God’s reassurance was swift and tangible. God reached out and touched Jeremiah’s mouth. One gets the impression of a physical act. Jeremiah is touched by God. It is reminiscent of the Incarnation of Christ, for here, divine meets human. In the case of Jeremiah, the human will never be the same.

          I don’t know about you, but I could use a sendoff like that. God says to Jeremiah that he is there; that he will deliver Jeremiah.

Wow! If only he would talk to me like that. Then I would know what to do.  

Jeremiah was lucky. He heard from God himself and it is inspirational to read about that event in his life. But for us to say that such is not available to us is to ignore the Scripture, the written Word of God. God’s promises are everywhere in the Bible. We can hardly turn a page without finding an example. Here are just a few.

Are you depressed? Wondering who cares? Look at Isaiah 41:10: “fear not, for I am with you…I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you.” Or Isaiah 54:10: “For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love will not depart from you.”

Are you scared? Is there something or someone that threatens you? Call on Deuteronomy 31:8 as did Moses: “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you.” Or claim the promise of Jesus himself in John 14:27: “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you…Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

Do you have questions about financial decisions? Look at Philippians 4:19: “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” How about health questions? You might want to claim God’s promise in Jeremiah 30:17: “For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord.” If God can restore a nation, he can handle you and me.

How do we get these messages from God? How do we begin to claim his promises? In the eleventh chapter of Luke’s gospel, Jesus has taught his disciples how to pray. Then he moves on to the subject of claiming God’s promises. He tells his disciples to: “ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened” [Luke 11: 9]. That same promise remains an invitation to all who seek it. And Jesus goes on in that same story to explain that our heavenly father wants us to ask, wants us to seek, wants us to knock.  Jesus tells us that the Holy Spirit will be given to us in more abundance than even the love of a father for his own child.

So…while God may have not touched our mouths in the same way that he touched those of Jeremiah, he does find very effective ways to communicate with us, if only we are paying attention. Certainly one of the richest sources to mine his promises is the Bible. There are literally hundreds of promises to claim. The apostle Paul claimed them all. He was called, not at the beginning of his life, like Jeremiah, but well into his career as a persecutor of Christians. Writing to the church in Rome, he gives us this promise to add to our list: “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” [Romans 8: 38].

We are all called. Most of us will not prophesy to the nations like Jeremiah, but we might prophesy to our children or others with whom we come in contact. We might do quite a bit more if we will claim the promises that God has given us, for God’s loyalty and justice never change. God does put words in our mouths in the sense that he puts thoughts in our minds, in the way that the Holy Spirit can speak to our inner life.

Do not say, I am only a youth, or only one person, or old or weak or untrained. Do not be so presumptuous as to think that God cannot give you every tool required to do his bidding. Listen to what he is saying: “for to all whom I send you, you shall go.”

If All Are the Same Member, then Where Is the Body?

                   1 Corinthians 12: 4-27

           What’s more important? The organization or the individual? Who’s more important? The star or the team? Is Cam Newton the heartbeat of the Carolina Panthers? Or are the Panthers the heartbeat that gives Cam life for his talent? My mechanic used to tell me that an automobile is the only machine in the world that costs $25,000 assembled or $100,000 unassembled. So which is more important…the body or its members? If you use the logic of my mechanic and if you assign importance by monetary value alone, then the parts are  more important than the vehicle they help assemble. But if that is true, then what do you tell all those thousands of parts when the steering wheel is missing? Are they now unimportant? They can’t do what they were designed to do because there is nothing there to steer them. The car is useless without the steering wheel. So which is more important, the thing or its components?

          Paul writes to the church in Corinth. He’s trying to get those folks to understand the importance of unity. He talks about the trinity, though he doesn’t use the word. He says one God, one Spirit, one Lord, meaning Jesus. He says no matter what kind of gifts you may possess, they manifest themselves as the presence of the Holy Spirit, of God and his grace.

          One body. The concept is of immense significance. Here, Paul is talking about the church, the body of Christ, but he certainly is in good company. Paul’s concept of unity has been applied in other contexts for centuries. You hear it in conference rooms, boardrooms, judge’s chambers and dugouts. You hear it sitting around kitchen tables. Wherever there is something to be accomplished and more than one person involved, the cry is heard for cooperation, for teamwork, for unity!

          In Genesis, we are told that a man will leave his mother and father and cleave to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. Easier said than done, but God’s point is unity. In the book of Deuteronomy appears the Shema, the first two words of the most important prayer of the nation of Israel. It calls the people to “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” We understand God as Trinitarian, but even in that community of deity Father, Son and Holy Spirit), there is but one God.

          The secular world tries to emulate these principles of unity. Our American union is a republic of United States. Companies band together under an invention called the corporation, whereby individuals join for a common purpose, issuing stock certificates to evidence their collective ownership of the whole. Churches and denominations also join for common purposes, making constitutions and charters to bind them as they exist in a multitude of locations under one common umbrella. Sports provide yet another example of how we group our individual selves for the good of the whole, the team.

          So it would seem that the whole is of more importance than the sum of its parts, the car more valuable than its individual components. Paul tells the church in Corinth, which is having all kinds of troubles, that “just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.” We are all made to drink of, to answer to, one Spirit, the Spirit of God.

          In this passage, Paul is specifically talking about the Spirit of God bringing Jews and Gentiles together in one faith. But his thoughts have many other applications. Look again at Paul’s words and what they should mean to us today. It’s not just Jew and Greek, but rich and poor. It’s not just Pharisee and Scribe, but soldier and fisherman.  It’s not just Presbyterians and Baptists, but Christians. The church becomes the manifestation of the risen Christ on earth. Paul points out to us that as surely as a hand cannot operate without the body to which it is attached, so equally does the body require the hand…and the foot and every other part and system…to be whole and working efficiently.

          Look at my hand. It works great. It can grasp. It can squeeze. It can carry. Squeeze my wrist just right and you can feel my pulse. You can feel the blood flowing throughout my hand. It’s alive and vital and integral to what I am capable of doing.

          Now, cut it off. The moment it is severed, it begins to die. In a very short while, it will wither, and turn blue and become useless. That’s not all. Look at the stump where my hand was severed. If it is not treated, and with some careful attention and haste, I could bleed out. The act of cutting off my hand could cause my death.

          What if the hand represents you? What if the body represents the church? What if you are cut off from the church, the bride of Christ? Can you continue to be a vital, active Christian outside of the fellowship of the Church?

          Paul says that God has composed the body (the Church) that there is no division in it, that the members all have the same care for one another; that if one member suffers, all suffer; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

          But aren’t some parts are more important than others? Paul says no.  Even the seemingly weaker parts are indispensable. Take the liver as an example. Who wants to be a liver! Livers get no headlines. All they do are secret bile to carry waste away and make a little protein. But try living without a liver.

          Yes, the body can function without all its original parts. You can lose an eye and still see. But with each loss, the body is damaged and function is compromised. And the part, unless harvested for transplant, is lost. So, says Paul, the hand needs the eye; they both need the foot. Each member performs different functions, but all are needed. So it is with the church. God wills gifts for us, then gives them to us. Individuals come together, share those gifts and the bride of Christ can dance all night. Through the Spirit that unites us and guides us, we become unified in our incredible variety of gifts and diversity to do God’s will!

A thousand feet can walk nowhere, climb nothing. But one unified body? It can scale mountains and swim oceans. “If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.”

There is one exception. Every body needs a guidance system, a mission control. We think of it as the brain or the head, the place where decisions are made, plans formulated. Without the head, the body is useless and will die. Christians understand that Jesus Christ fulfills that role for us. Writing to the church in Colossae, Paul acknowledges as much, saying that Jesus is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation…and he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church.”

Through Christ, we receive…gifts of all kinds, talents of all colors. Through Christ, we manifest those gifts, apply those gifts, glorify his gift to us. Through Christ we have unity in diversity, diversity in unity. No one part can dismiss another. No one part can be more proud than another. God organized the church the same way he organized the body. It is interdependent. The church is its members and its members are the church. They, and it…rise to serve, and in that service, act out their loving duty as the children of God.

What are you? A hand, a foot, a finger, a toe, a liver? It doesn’t matter. You are needed. Jesus is counting on the Church—and we are the Church! We are his manifestation. We are his voice. Let’s speak!

                         Sojourning In a Foreign Land

     Exodus 2: 22, Matthew 2; 13-15

 

 

          Have you ever been a sojourner? Chances are excellent that you have. A sojourner is a temporary resident. Sojourners are college students staying in dormitories. Sojourners are infantrymen in tents or barracks, sailors on board ships, missionaries working far afield from their homes.

          Sojourner just means temporary visitor. Add to it “in a foreign land” and you have a familiar Biblical concept. The Hebrew word (ger) that we usually translate as “sojourner,” or sometimes “stranger,” occurs about 160 times in Scripture as either a noun or verb. It’s used a lot because it’s common in scripture for people to find themselves in a temporary place.

          In the Book of Exodus, Moses has spent the first chapter of his life as a sojourner in the land of Egypt, where he is Pharaoh’s adopted prince. He doesn’t know he’s a sojourner. He thinks he is home. As time passes, he realizes what God has in store for him. In the second chapter of his life, banished from Egypt, Moses finds himself in the region of Midian. He goes to work for Jethro, the priest of Midian. Moses marries Jethro’s daughter and his first son is called Gershom, meaning sojourner in a foreign land. As you know, Moses was to experience a couple more significant chapters in his life. He was not done with either sojourning or doing so in a foreign land. God had a lot in store for Moses.

          Sojourning is a common Biblical theme. Look at Abraham. He was the king of the sojourners. He moved from the land of Ur to a nomadic life which would eventually bring him to the land of Canaan. His grandson Jacob would later flee to another land after stealing his brother’s birthright. When famine came, Jacob’s family ended up in Goshen, right outside the Egyptian capital. More sojourning. This time, it lasted about four hundred years, as God’s people became enslaved to the Egyptians, but it still was God’s people sojourning in a foreign land.

          King David spent a lot of time knocking around. It was a dozen years between his anointing and his assuming the throne as king. The prophet Elijah spent about as much time running away to the wilderness and the desert as he did trying to wake up the nation of Israel. The Israelites didn’t just wander through the Exodus years; they were also exiled in Babylon, far from home for several generations. It seems that in many instances, sojourning in a foreign land was a way of life for God’s people.

          But, you might say, that was the Old Testament. It was different in the New Testament, wasn’t it? Things began to settle down. God’s people were back in Israel.  Not really. That’s tells only part of the story. For instance, the book of Matthew reports that after Jesus was born, wise men came from the east to Jerusalem. There, they found out Jesus had been born in Bethlehem and they traveled there, finding Jesus in a house. The nativity scene we display every year has the characters right, but not the timing. The wise men, or magi, came later, probably months later. Maybe more. That’s why Herod had all the male children less than two years old killed. Jesus was sure to have been in that group.

          But Jesus wasn’t in that group. Joseph had been warned by an angel and Jesus and his family had fled quickly to Egypt, where they stayed until Herod died. So Jesus started out his life as a sojourner in a foreign land. Even when they returned, they started over in a new town where they were not known.

          Where did the great apostle Paul live? On the road. How about Philip? Try Africa. The same is true for so many of Jesus’ disciples. They found themselves sojourners in a foreign land for the sake of the gospel

          Yet as great a commitment as it is to leave your home or familiar surroundings and strike out for some unfamiliar place, it is by far a greater commitment, indeed the ultimate act of obedience, to stay right where you are, but change your allegiance. Want to try it out? Want to be a sojourner in a foreign land? Just try to follow Jesus!

First, you might want to take an inventory. Is there anything you might have to change?  Look at what you have. Let’s just take a quick tour of the average person in this community. You would say you’re pretty average, wouldn’t you? You’re certainly not rich and you aren’t poor either.

Okay. Do you own a car? Jesus didn’t. Do you own your own home? Jesus didn’t. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Jesus owned a pair of sandals. How many changes of clothes sit in your closet unworn for months or even years? Jesus owned a robe.  

          How do you support God’s church? Do you give money? The widow Jesus saw at the temple gave a mite. That’s less than a penny. It’s also a fortune, for it was all she had. How much time do you give each week? An hour, two, five?  Paul gave his life to God and paid his own way as a tentmaker to boot.  

My point is not to disparage anyone. We all fall short of Jesus and we already know that. My point is this. Jesus showed us the way to live in this world with our eyes on the kingdom.  

          It’s very difficult to live in this world and keep your eyes on the prize. We are constantly being told by every message on every billboard, in every newspaper or magazine, in every  commercial, that we need to be taller and thinner and prettier, that we can do so if we just use the right drugs, wear the right clothes, drive the right cars. The idols the media promotes are bachelors and bachelorettes, quarterbacks and singers. Even when religion is front and center, it revolves around the bigness of the ministry, the size of the purse.

          If we can turn away from such massive promotion, such a penetrating social message, then we will indeed find ourselves  sojourners in a foreign land. Almost everything in our society points us in another way, a selfish way. But Jesus is calling, too.  We live with one foot balanced precariously in the reality of place, of the here and now, of time and space and yes, consumerism.

But as Christians, we must reach. We must thrust that other foot into a spiritual land that day by day, hour by hour, begins to make us realize that the ground on which we walk is quicksand. It is only the firm ground of the cross where reality really exists. That is where we find home. That is where we can hang up the shoes of the sojourner and take our rest.

The apostle Paul, writing to the Roman church, encouraged them to present themselves as living sacrifices acceptable, not to their friends or co-workers or classmates, but to God. He entreated them to “not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of their minds…to discern the will of God.” He was asking them to do what Jesus alluded to in the seventeenth chapter of John. Jesus, praying to God during the Passion Week. asked God that his disciples could be “in this world, but not of it.”

What does Paul mean? What does Jesus mean? Jesus goes on to say that he is sending his disciples into the world, not withdrawing them from it. He asks God for their protection from evil, not for a place to hide. I think the message here is that we are always to be guided by Christ, by God’s grace, that we are always to be part of the solution, not part of the problem. We Christians are the answer. We just need to keep reminding the world of what the true questions are.

Yes, if we are Christians, then we are called upon to be sojourners in a foreign land. It is a land full of temptation, ripe with idols, loaded with pressure from all around us to conform to its ways. But we know better. It’s only temporary.

Why should we do such a thing, make such a commitment? Why should we make life so hard? Don’t be misled. Hard can be good; even easy. Jesus promises us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

It’s time to recognize that even while we sit at home surrounded by family, relaxed in all our earthly rituals, we are just sojourners, passing through this place on the way to eternity. The place we live, the space we occupy, is only temporary. We cannot find real lasting stability on such a foundation. It just can’t hold but so long.

We can find that stability in Jesus. We can find that foundation in him. There’s nothing temporary about Jesus. Where do you stand, and how will you serve? On Christ the solid rock we stand. All other ground…is sinking sand!