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Sunday, January 20, 2013

Getting Started (John 2: 1-11) 1/20/13




          At Christmas time, we celebrated the birth of Jesus, the Messiah. This is called the Incarnation. A few weeks later, we marked the Epiphany, the time generally associated by Roman Catholics and Protestants with the visit of the Magi. I know what the manger scene looks like. That’s okay.   Many of our traditions are off a little on some of the timing or detail. The Eastern Church identifies the baptism of Jesus by John, rather than the visit of the Magi, as the Epiphany. The word means “manifestation,” so really either event could work as an epiphany. I think of the Epiphany this way.  It’s a coming out party for Jesus, at least for those who are privileged to be there.
In a way the story of Jesus’ first miracle in the Gospel of John is a continuation of that coming out party. It is his first time to show others something of what he is capable of. The timing of the miracle is bothersome to Jesus, for all the gospels assert that Jesus did not want his true identity revealed prematurely. For instance, in today’s passage, Jesus, when called upon by his mother to perform this miracle, says that his “time” has not yet come. Nevertheless, Jesus decides to come to the rescue.
The story seems a little odd. Most of Jesus’ miracles involve either healing or taming nature. He heals the sick, gives sight to the blind, makes cripples walk. He walks on water and calms storms.  He feeds the multitude and raises people from death. In that context, the turning of water into wine at a wedding feast doesn’t seem to fit. In fact, this miracle story is unique to John’s gospel. It does not appear in the others.  But John’s gospel is not like the others. John goes his own way, tells his own story. John’s gospel is not so much about mighty acts as it is about theology and Christology and relationships.  For instance, Matthew relates twenty different miracle events, while John tells only six. The first and last of those miracles that John does narrate are unique to his gospel. The last one is the story of the raising of Lazarus from the dead, literally from the grave, all told in the context of Jesus being the resurrection and the life. It may be the most incredible, most uplifting of all the miracles stories of Jesus. The bookend to this is John’s first narrated miracle, turning water into wine at a wedding feast. If Lazarus is the greatest, the wine thing might be the most obscure, the most easy to dismiss of the miracle stories.
Yet, there it is. The writer of John’s gospel is thought to have been John, the beloved disciple, a member of Jesus’ inner circle, the great gospel theologian. He lived the longest of the Twelve, thought to have still been alive in the 90’s. He had sixty years since Christ’s death and resurrection to think about what he wanted to write. He almost certainly had access to the Synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) and to Paul’s letters. It makes no sense to think other than that he wanted every single line to bring meaning and richness and depth to the gospel story he wrote at the end of his days about his friend and Savior. What is John saying to us in this, the first miracle of Jesus’ brand new ministry?
Cana was about nine miles north of Nazareth, the village where Jesus grew up. According to John, Jesus is probably in his first week of ministry and has at this point picked up five of his disciples. We should assume that they are accompanying him. He has come back home, perhaps to attend the wedding feast of a neighbor. This is one of the few times we hear from Mary since the birth of Jesus, and she seems to be surprisingly assertive here. She says to Jesus: “They have no wine.” I can almost see that look. She knows what Jesus is capable of. She knows what is needed. She looks at her son and she says “they have no wine.” Jesus looks at her and says in essence, “Come on, mom. You know it’s not time yet. This isn’t for me.” To which the sainted mother of our Savior simply looks to the servants and says “Do whatever he tells you.” You don’t have to be a Bible scholar to figure out what is on Mary’s mind. Some commentaries say that this is not the story of a son doing his mother’s bidding. I think I might be tempted to qualify that to say that it’s not just that kind of story. Of course there is more to it than that, but I still get the feeling that there is a son here who wants to do his mother’s bidding as well.
There is an old legend that might explain why Mary was so invested here and why she seemed to have authority to tell the servants to do what Jesus told them to do. One of the Coptic gospels that didn’t make the cut for the New Testament claims that Mary was a sister of the bridegroom’s mother. In fact, in an early set of prefaces to the New Testament called the Monarchian Prefaces, it was asserted that the bridegroom was actually John himself, and that his mother was Salome, the sister of Mary. These are not provable facts, but they make for some interesting possible explanations. The fact that John was one of those first five disciples called makes John an eyewitness at the very least.
 While all of that is interesting, it still doesn’t explain why this particular miracle story is included in John’s gospel. I don’t think he was just taking a trip down memory lane, even if the legends are true. It has often been said about John that his gospel must be read on two levels. There is always the story itself, which never fails to instruct, and which is easy enough to understand on its face. But there is almost always the story within the story. Certainly that theory is at work here in the wedding feast miracle at Cana.
The miracle is actually part of a larger section of John that takes place in Cana and is described over the course of chapters 2-4. Theologian Craig Blomberg calls this section “The Newness of Jesus’ Ministry.”   William Barclay calls it “The New Exhilaration.” In those three chapters, there are six stories. The miracle with the water and wine is the first. It is followed by the cleansing of the temple, the meeting of Jesus with Nicodemus, the question of the supremacy of Jesus over John the Baptist, the meeting of Jesus with the Samaritan woman and the healing of the Nobleman’s son.  Again, all these events are sandwiched into these three chapters where John talks about events in Cana or while Jesus was in and around Cana. In subsequent chapters, Jesus moves to Judea and away from Cana, but here John uses these stories to paint the big picture. Taken together as a unit, they point to the newness that is taking place in God’s people and in how they will come to be defined.
The Cana segment starts with Jesus turning water into wine. This represents a new joy, not only at the wedding feast, but in the coming of the author of the miracle. He has come to open the world to a new ministry. This is the new age, and it is represented by a new worship since the Son of God has cleansed the temple. It is also represented by a new birth, says Jesus to Nicodemus. To enter God’s kingdom, one must be born again, by water and the Spirit. John the Baptist is important as a segway to Jesus, but he represents the old and Jesus represents the new. He comes not to change the law but to finally fulfill it in the way that our heavenly Father always intended.  Then, in chapter 4, we see the stories of the Samaritan woman and the Nobleman’s son, a mixed race woman and a Gentile being healed or included by Jesus.  Now we see that the inclusiveness of Jesus’ message and his new ministry are unquestionably universal. They include not only Samaritans and Gentiles, but also the lowest and the most outcast of society. No one who believes will be turned away from God’s kingdom. This is a revolutionary message revealed in this new ministry for the ages. It is a greater grace than the Law could have ever afforded and it is being introduced here in Cana.
The Cana narrative and the discourses it contains are instructive for our church. We have been here for a long time. We have built, maintained and preserved. All those attributes are good and endearing and important. But there is and should always be a new ministry rising up from within the old story. Core truths never change, but customs do. Bedrock values never move, but practices do. We find our habits moving and changing in response to the changes around us. We celebrate that very ability to grow today as we welcome the ordination of a new elder in this church.
Change is not our enemy; it is our companion. Our challenge is to continue to worship, continue to witness in a society whose values can sometimes be compared to quicksand. Such is not the stuff of the church. Our values do not move. We change our style to achieve the spread of the gospel. We are God’s people. Jesus came to claim us and make our salvation possible. Like the new ministry that Jesus introduced at Cana, we look for new life in our own ministries. We celebrate our opportunity to add new leaders, new ideas, new life to the Church of Jesus Christ.
So the miracle at Cana was not just any old miracle. It was not just a favor to a beloved mother. It was the first miracle of our Lord on earth in a new ministry that would change the world. And, thank God, he was just getting started!       

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Holding More Firmly (Heb 3: 12-14, James 1: 2, 12-15) 1/13/13




When you fill out your income tax forms each year, you are asked to list your dependants. In IRS language, a dependant is someone who lives with you at least half the time and for whom you provide at least half that person’s support. That definition works okay for determining a tax deduction, but it wouldn’t work very well in determining our dependence on God, would it? We don’t get full credit for part time dependence. Part time dependence is really not dependence at all.
In part of today’s Scripture, the writer of Hebrews warns us to take care, to watch for an unbelieving heart, causing us to fall away from God, to watch out for the deceitfulness of sin and to look out for each other. He says we have come to share in Christ if  if we hold our original confidence to the end.
Well, that’s not so hard, is it? Just hold on to the end. Keep your confidence and don’t waver in the truth you have come to know. After all, we became convinced of the truth of it all some time ago. So all we have to do is hold the course. Of course, there are sometimes some life events that might test us a bit, like death  of a loved one or foreclosure or loss of job or a car accident or illness or divorce. You get my drift. For some, holding to the end is short term. For others, it is decades. For most of us, holding firm to the end is a lifestyle, not a moment in time.
Hebrews says to exhort one another daily, “as long as it is called today.” Earlier in the passage (v.7), the writer says “Today, if you hear my voice…”  William Barclay translates the meaning of “today” here as “while life lasts.” If we look back at the passage with that in mind, then we are called to exhort one another as long as we live. The process doesn’t stop until we are at the end of life. Then and only then are we safe from the considerable power and persuasiveness of sin.
Life seemed simpler when you were little, didn’t it? That’s because it was simpler. Your mother helped dress you, put you on the school bus or drove you to school, fixed your snack, put bows in your hair or handed you your ball glove.  Sunday meant Sunday school and probably a trip to Grandma’s for fried chicken and trimmings. The big decision for the day was whether to wear a coat or a jacket.  Your faith came in large measure from your home, but there was plenty of supplemental advice from church and school.
As you aged, the choices became wider, the risks bigger, the consequences more far-reaching. Now, you don’t always come to church. You may never come to Sunday school. You may travel thirty miles or more just to get to work. The decisions from which you were once sheltered now come at you daily with far reaching consequences. You know now that doing right has no shelf life. You have to do it over and over and over. You now realize that faith does not come with an answer book, only a loyalty oath.  
Remember how your mother or father used to make you hold his or her hand when crossing the street? Remember being lifted up and carried across a creek or stream? Remember them standing between you and danger? Today, you do the same for your own children. But who looks after you? The writer of Hebrews reminds us that we are not children and that we face tests that we can handle no better than could our little children trying to cross a busy street by themselves. He pleads with us to hold firm to that which we came to believe in the beginning of our faith.
It’s so easy to get side tracked. Life comes at us fast. We spend much of our time putting out the little fires of life, reacting rather than acting. We feel time constraints, but instead of dropping back and giving ourselves some room, we layer up. We are too busy to think and think too much about matters of little consequence to our faith.  Even when we do stop and think about what we are doing, we are easily persuaded that we know more than others.
I counseled a woman a few days ago. Her husband no longer goes to church because he feels that he has better answers than the church provides. Life has let him down. People have let him down. Now he seeks his answers in the counsel of his own home, forsaking all those who would have fellowship with him. The course he has chosen has little to do with the shortcomings of the church and everything to do with the pride of a man “hardened by the deceitfulness of sin,” just as the writer of Hebrews describes.
James promises us that trials will come our way. We need never question whether as Christians we will face trials. Christians are promised that throughout God’s Word. Jesus himself guaranteed it more than once. It is the price of the cross and a great price it is. But the cross delivers us into glory for eternity. James also promises that a faith so tested makes for steadiness and later, completeness. We are not left alone to do this task. Far from it. Our God is here for us to walk every step of the way at our side.   
We live in a society of individuals. We are bombarded by stimuli which would teach the value of individuals over community, the priority of individual rights over the protection of the society. We have half the guns in the world in this country, but only five percent of the world’s population, and yet we are no more safe in many ways than our third world counterparts who must fight hunger and pestilence to stay alive. We continue to see wholesale examples of self indulgence and violence that have no place in a civilized society. This is the way of the world, and this is precisely what James and the writer of Hebrews cautioned the early Christians about. They remind us as well that we are incapable of overcoming these worldly temptations with our own strength. We cannot hold firmly to God without his help.
A Presbyterian minister named John H. Sammis put the answers to music in 1887. He called the hymn Trust and Obey. He calls on us to “trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, than to trust and obey.” Do you want to hold firm to the end, as the writer of Hebrews admonishes us to do? You can’t do it by yourself. You are God’s creature, created in his likeness, but you also have a sinful nature that will create tension between you and the righteousness you seek. You need help to stay the course. You stand at the edge of a life that can be lived with beauty and promise and fulfillment with God that is far beyond the life that can be lived without him. The hymn from long ago sets that course for us. It tells us what we must do.
First, trust in God. In all the ways over all the days of your life, he is the only one to trust, the only way to find real, lasting security. Institutions will let us down. People will let us down. God never lets us down. And God teaches us that once we believe, we have to claim his promises. We have to live with him in charge.
Second, we have to obey God. Never mind that we sin. God knows our imperfections. That does not stand in our way. What does is our stubbornness to do things our way, our impatience not to wait on God. This is not obedience. Obedience is letting God have the reins and doing his will instead of our own.
These are the markers of the Christian, to trust and obey. Perhaps most importantly, we need to realize that the world we live in is not set up to accommodate that kind of thinking. We are called upon to be in the world, but not of it. In spite of what the world teaches us to the contrary, we are called to be dependent upon our Savior.
The path of God is narrow and less traveled, but it has room. God will walk beside you if you let him.  He will lead the way when you follow him. He will carry you when you can’t walk. As you grow from the tests he brings to you, don’t rely on your newly found strength. It is an illusion. The real strength we possess comes from our Savior. Hold his hand and hold on to your faith more firmly as you grow. He never meant for you to walk alone.
         

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Signed and Sealed (Ephesians 1:3-14) 1/6/13

  


Last week, the Electoral College met and made official a vote that had already been taken. The people of the United States had already elected their next President. It only remained for the Electors to put the seal of approval on what had already been decided. Well, of course, this message is not about American politics or the Electoral College. But it is about sovereignty. In the case of the Electoral College, it represents the sovereign power of the several states to wield that power to elect the chief executive of the nation. In the case of Paul, here speaking to the church in Ephesus in the first century, it represents his understanding of the sovereignty of God.
The doctrine of election is closely identified with the Reformed Church, with which the Presbyterian Church is identified. To be honest, I don’t quite understand that. What I mean is, I don’t yet understand why it is that the entire Christian Church does not identify more closely with the doctrine. It has its roots planted in numerous places in the Bible in both the Old and New Testaments.
In the New Testament alone, the terms “Predestination” or “Elect” are mentioned in each of the synoptic Gospels (Mt 24:31, Mk 13: 22, Lk 18:7), and in Acts (13:48). Peter talks about the doctrine twice (1 Pe 1:2,  5:13), and it is also discussed twice in 2 John 1:1, 13). Paul talks about it not only in today’s passage, but also eight other times in his letters. 1
In the first chapter of Ephesians, Paul is speaking to a church he planted. He first visited Ephesus briefly during his second missionary journey. It was a stopover on his way to Jerusalem, but  Paul later returned to Ephesus for a three year stay.  Even later, Paul wrote to his former flock from prison, probably in Rome. His friend and helper Tychicus was the bearer of the letter.  If you’re reading Ephesians 1: 3-14 aloud, be sure and take a deep breath first. The entire passage is one sentence in the Greek. I have a sense that Paul did not have pen in hand for this passage. I would think more likely that he was dictating, perhaps to Tychicus, and that the more he said, the more he thought. The more he thought, the more he said. The result is a rambling recitation of blessing, choice, predestination, adoption, redemption, forgiveness and grace, all wrapped together in a divine plan. I can almost see the great apostle pacing the floor, occasionally punctuating the air with his fist or an outstretched finger as the words came pouring from his lips so fast his scribe could hardly keep up.
As I was preparing for this message, I couldn’t help but notice that what Paul said in a paragraph, it took the great reformer John Calvin about seventy pages to explain and defend in his famous work, The Institutes of the Christian Religion. Paul’s English teacher may not have approved of his writing style here, but his Theology teacher would have given him high marks, for the Sovereignty of God is on marvelous display here.
If the great John Calvin could take seventy pages explaining this doctrine, far be it from me to begin to simplify that which Paul has spoken here to the Ephesians and to the church at large. But I can take note of the obvious. While Paul can be difficult to read and seldom knows when to end a sentence, he is very sure of his subject matter. He tells us that God loves us so much he has blessed us with Jesus Christ, that God chose us before the foundation of the world was laid, that in love, he predestined us for adoption as his sons through Jesus.
Take a breath. That’s a lot to handle. But there’s more. Paul goes on. It was all done according to God’s will, God’s purpose, says Paul. Jesus’ sacrifice brings us redemption and forgiveness. Christ is God’s plan to re-unite all things, all people, with him.
And…we get our Godly inheritance through Jesus. We are predestined by God. He works it all out according to his will. Now listen. This is where it gets good! When we hear and believe in Jesus, we are sealed with the promised Holy Spirit. He guarantees our inheritance until we take possession.
Nothing bad there, except twice Paul mentions predestination.
Don’t we have a choice? Is the election over, and we didn’t even get to vote? That’s not the point, so don’t get all tied into knots over it. Election is about God’s sovereignty. Who’s in charge here anyway?
The answer is all over the Bible. God is in charge. Always was. Always will be. God is also omniscient, a fancy word for all-knowing. So, if God is all powerful and all knowing, how can God not know outcomes before they happen? That could only mean that he is limited in some way, that he doesn’t know everything. But God does know everything. Always has. Always will.
          It is not for us to worry about whether we are elected. The question for us is whether we believe in Jesus Christ and in the gospel he teaches, that he is God’s son, that he came for us, that he died for us, that he rose from the dead and ascended  into heaven, that he lives and will come again for us. Jesus tells us that God loved the world so much he sent his only begotten Son that whoever believes in him shall live eternally (3: 16). He tells us again in John 5 that whoever hears his word and believes him who sent him has eternal life (v. 24). These and other passages make it abundantly clear that if we believe in Jesus, we are elected. Paul agrees. He says to us in today’s passage that “when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, [you] were sealed with the Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance…” (1: 13).
           The thing is, we just can’t get there from here, at least not without help. In the sixth chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus tells the crowd outside Capernaum that his Father’s will is that “everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life…” (v. 40). He goes on to say that “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” (v. 44). 
          The Bible is clear. God is sovereign and omniscient. He is all powerful and knows everything that will happen before it happens. In his divine plan, he has given us free will. We can reject him and many continue to do so. Paul reminds us of our tendency toward sin in Romans 11, where he beckons the Roman Christians to “Note then the kindness and the severity of God; severity toward those who have fallen, but God’s kindness to you, provided you continue in his kindness. Otherwise, you too will be cut off” (11: 22, 23). The writer of Hebrews further cautions us, saying “it is impossible, in the case of those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the Word and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, to restore them again to repentance…” (6: 4-6).
These passages are evidence of the signs of God’s call, but not the call itself. John Calvin explains the difference as two kinds of call. There is the general call, by which God invites all through the outward exposure to the Word. But there is a second, special, call, as Calvin characterizes it. This comes to believers alone, who are illumined by the Holy Spirit, which causes God’s Word to dwell in their hearts. This is the church whose true membership is known only to God.
So where is the fear in predestination? If not called by God, then by whom? We cannot call ourselves, can we? If you think about it, it must be as the Bible says. God must call us, in order that our ears may be open enough to hear him. God must draw us in order that our hearts may accept the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. As Calvin said it: “Faith is fitly joined to election, provided it takes second place.” Think of it this way: faith is the tool God provides us to come to him once we are called. To believe otherwise would be to accept that some sort of work is required to find God, and that won’t “work.” By grace we are saved. The good works we offer up to him can be only our testament of the love we have learned from him to feel for him. My daughter Emily reminded me of that just yesterday. She sent an email from Dahab, Egypt, a sleepy little coastal town two hours from Mt Sinai. She climbed the mountain during the night in order to see the sun come up. Then she walked down the mountain. The locals call it the three thousand steps of repentance. What a beautiful way to describe the descent from God’s mountain. As her steps traced those of Moses, she gave pause to send some love back to the God who made her, formed her, claims her and protects her. This is what he wants. Love him. Show your love by your acts. And if you believe in him, then that’s your destiny, or “predestiny”, signed and sealed!        

1 See Romans 8: 29-30, 2 Thess 2: 13-14, 2 Tim 1: 9, Romans 8: 33, 11:7, Colossians 3:12, 2 Tim 2: 10, Titus 1: 1.
                    
                             

Sunday, December 30, 2012

You Can't Stay in Bethlehem (Mt 2: 13-16, 19-23, Mk 3: 20-31) 12/30/12




          Jesus is born. Of this we can be sure and of this we must surely be thankful. Now, all we have to do is wait. If we are living in the times of Jesus and believe him to be the Messiah, we might want to hang around Bethlehem and watch him grow up. We can just nurse this warm fuzzy feeling and hang out for a while.
          Not! Even Jesus didn’t get to do that. He may have stayed in Bethlehem for a good while, but he certainly didn’t get to stay there long in his young life.  The Gospel of Luke tells us in Chapter 2 (22) that the child Jesus was taken to the Temple to be presented to the Lord. This would have been at least forty days after his birth just to adhere to the Mosaic law of ritual purification. Earlier in the chapter, Luke refers to the baby lying in a manger (16). Here, Luke uses the word Brephos, which can be translated “newborn” or “infant.” Eleven verses later, the same writer uses a different Greek word. Translated as “child”, the Greek word is paidion, which means “infant” or “child.” The implication is that Jesus is no longer a newborn, but perhaps a toddler.
In Matthew’s gospel, the Magi visit Jesus only after his presentation at the Temple. When they go home by another way to avoid Herod, he orders the death of all male children under age two.  Even accounting for the evil calculations of Herod, we can surmise that Jesus was probably not an infant when his parents took him to Egypt. It was only ninety miles south, admittedly a long journey. But it was out of Herod’s jurisdiction.
          Regardless of the age of Jesus when he left Bethlehem, the point is that he left. Even the Son of God had to move on. Even the Son of God couldn’t stay in Bethlehem, at least not if he wanted to accomplish the purpose for which he had been sent.
           I have a friend who works at the local high school. He is the head of the Math Department there and teaches advanced placement Calculus and other college level math courses. He also teaches basic entry level algebra to ninth graders. His favorite course? You guessed it. The course with the ninth graders. This fella graduated from N.C State University with a degree in Aerospace Engineering. He went to work in that industry for a few years at a very high salary. One day he got a call from a high school in need of a math teacher. He laughed. He had always said that he would never teach. But then he decided to help them out by teaching just one course for just one semester. The rest is history. He left his lucrative job for a high school teaching position. Why do men and women all over the world do such silly things? Because they’re not silly at all. You can’t stay in Bethlehem, at least not if you want to accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.
          In the third chapter of Mark’s gospel, Jesus is on a mountain when he calls the twelve who are to become his apostles. He is preaching and performing miracles, and great crowds are gathering and following him. After calling the twelve, Jesus goes home, apparently to Nazareth. Incidentally, here are twelve more shining examples of being called away from your life’s work, from your comfort zone, into God’s work. These twelve men left their homes and families and followed Jesus all around the countryside for three years. Then, they set out to change the world. Back to Jesus. He is followed everywhere. He has no privacy. Church leaders are saying that to cast out demons, he must be possessed by the devil. His family, hearing of his arrival and his plight, goes out to seize him, saying that he is out of his mind. The crowd alerts Jesus that his mother and brothers are at the edge of the crowd and are calling him. Jesus answers: “Who are my mother and my brothers?” It is a rhetorical question to which he supplies his own answer. Looking around at those who sat around him, he says: “These are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God, he is my mother and my sister and my brother.”  Jesus then goes on to perform several miracles in the surrounding area. When he returns to Nazareth, his hometown, he is rejected by his own neighbors and friends. He is just the carpenter’s son. He says that “a prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household” [6:4]. And he leaves and goes out among other villages. You can’t stay where you’ve always been, at least not if you want to accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.  
          Last week was Christmas. We celebrated the birth of the Christ child, the gift of God himself to a world broken and selfish and without direction. That birth was celebrated by shepherds and astrologers and angels from heaven. But it was also watched by those who would extinguish the tiny king before his kingdom could even be announced.  Neither could possibly realize how small were their roles on that stage. As the shepherds went back to their fields, the Magi back to their homeland, Herod back to protecting his little fiefdom in the middle of the Roman Empire, the little baby became a child. Luke says that the child increased in wisdom and in stature and found favor with God and Man [Lk 2: 52]. When his life was threatened, his parents took him from Bethlehem. When his ministry stalled, he left Nazareth. He couldn’t stay, at least not if he was to accomplish the purpose for which he had been sent.
          It’s not about where you hang your hat at the end of the day. The home of your parents can be your home too, or you might find yourself halfway around the world. But it is about where and how you answer the call of your Heavenly Father. He calls each and every one of us. Are you listening? Age has nothing to do with it. Infirmities have nothing to do with it. Even your present station in life may have nothing to do with it. Are you listening?  Christmas is over. You can’t stay in Bethlehem, any more than Jesus could. God has work for you.  Make sure you accomplish the purpose for which you have been sent.
 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

I Am Still the Light (Ps. 27:1, Jn 1: 4,5, Mt 19: 13, Jn 8: 12 (12/23/12)

      It’s the fourth Sunday of Advent. This is the Sunday when we light the
candle of Love. He will be here soon. Mary and Joseph are traveling to little Bethlehem, which has swelled well beyond its capacity to house all the travelers coming in for the census. Mary knows her time is short. It will be only two more days and He will come into the world, the world He created, presided over by this unruly mob of nations. Mary’s heart is full. She is tired, but ready to deliver this promise from God. She is ready to give Him all the love she has saved in her heart for this moment. As powerful and steadfast as her love for Him will be, it will prove to be not much more than a trifle compared to the love He will bring to the broken world into which He is about to be delivered. In time, the world will come to define love by the way He offered his own love to us.
Advent is a happy time, a time of anticipation. These are the days and hours leading to the birth of the Christ child, the child who was to change the world forever. For those of us who have experienced parenthood, we know deeply the meaning of the words of the song that Ashley Horton sang so tenderly last week: “A child changes everything.”
Yes, a child changes everything. And after a child has come into your life, or until a child does so, the absence of a child changes everything too. Perhaps it is the newness and freshness of a mind not yet soiled by the world. Perhaps it is the innocence of a soul not yet tainted by evil and selfishness. Whatever it is, children are the freshness in a world full of dirty laundry and skeletons in closets. Children bring us light.
Can you imagine standing in line at the police barrier two weeks ago? In a small community, word travels fast. We have all seen the pictures of the children coming out of Sandy Hook as their parents wait, leaning over the barriers, looking for their child. After a while, the children are out. They have united with their parents and gone home. But there are still parents on the line. They wait. They wait, hoping there is a mistake, maybe a child hiding who will emerge sooner or later, so they wait. But there are no more children walking out. The first grade parents begin to realize the unthinkable. Some sob. Some square their jaws and clench their fists. Many are praying for this cup to pass.
And yet, as bad as that image is, imagine this one. The word goes out that the Messiah has been born in Bethlehem. In response, the reigning Jewish king of the day issues an order for all the male children two years old and under in that area to be murdered. Evil was alive and well in Israel two thousand years ago, just as surely as it was two weeks ago in Newtown.
In the 27th Psalm, King David declares: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” The Lord is my light, says David. No fear. The beloved apostle John tells us in the beginning of his gospel that “In Him (meaning Jesus) was life, and the life was the light of the world.”
We have heard these words many times. They are always a comfort to those who believe. Are they a comfort to those whose belief is pressed to the breaking point? I hope so.  In Newtown, Connecticut, parents are burying little children this week. At a time that we celebrate the birth of the Christ child, Sandy Hook Elementary’s parents are saying goodbye to the lights of their lives. Has evil won?
I want to read you a very fresh poem. You may have already heard it. It was written this week by a person named Cameo Smith from Mt. Wolf, PA, and is traveling over the internet. Listen.
Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38,
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy. "We're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name,
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring.
Those children all flew into the arms of their King,
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had,
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of Mom and Dad."
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below,
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"May this country be delivered from the hands of fools."
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"
Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

        Matthew tells us in the 19th chapter of his gospel that Jesus has gone down

from Galilee to the region of Judea, where he engages in dialogue about divorce

with the Pharisees. While he is talking, children are brought to him to lay hands

on them. His disciples are pushing the parents back, trying to let Jesus continue

in his lecturing with the Pharisees.  Jesus stops his disciples. He stops what he is

doing and says: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to

them belongs the kingdom of heaven.” He laid his hands on them. Then he went

away. Want to know how much God loves his children? Think about how much

you love your own. Think about how much it means for them to be in your life.

Then, think about sending your only child to certain death and death as horrible

as mankind could make it. Behind that image is more love than we can quantify.

That is the stage upon which the child Jesus stepped on that first Christmas

night.   

       For to them belongs the kingdom of heaven, says Jesus. The children have

the innocence to hear the truth, to discern that which is genuine. Oh, that we

could remain in that childlike innocence. We could find the kingdom of heaven

so much more easily. Even in this media driven world which would immunize us

from any semblance of innocence, we are called rightly by Scripture to have

faith like that of children. Carl Henry says that Jesus turns life right side-up,

and heaven outside-in.  The truth of life lies not with the six o’clock news, but

rather with the Good News.

        On December 14, 2012, evil came to a little elementary school in Newtown,

New Jersey. It came violently and left behind a horror that would challenge the

strongest Christian’s faith. But evil has always been here. It was in the Garden

of Eden and challenged Adam. It was in the Garden of Gethsemane and

tempted Jesus. Like the parents and children at Sandy Hook, his cup did not

pass either.  Evil has always been with us. The question is whether it conquers

our spirits or whether we instead hold fast to the Light.
       
     This weekend we remember the star that signaled the birth of God himself in

human form. Let us also remember the promise of our Savior. John’s gospel

tells us in Chapter 8 (12) that Jesus is in the temple courts, again confronting

the scribes and Pharisees, this time over the woman caught in adultery. As he

forgives her, he turns to the audience and says “I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
       
     As Cameo Smith says about Jesus: “I AM STILL THE LIGHT.” Worry not

about the children who left us, for as the poem says, they’re spending Christmas

in God’s house. Concern yourself this day and every day with walking in the

light. Concern yourself that the message we send as Christians to those parents

in Newtown, and parents everywhere, is that our Savior is our Salvation. He is

our light. In time the painful images of Sandy Hook will fade, but I think we

should hold on to the lesson. Evil is never far from us, and there no real

protection from its tentacles except an abiding faith in Jesus Christ to guide us

through the darkness into his everlasting Light.

      It is Christmas. As the Conductor on the Polar Express reminds his young

passengers, sometimes the things that are the most real are the things we

cannot see. And the Word that was the light of the world came and dwelt

among us. Let’s spend this Christmas in God’s house right here on earth. It’s

Advent. He has come, and He is coming. Hallelujah!
  

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Cracked Pots ( Isaiah64: 1-9, 2 Corinthians 4: 1-12) 12/9/12




It’s the second Sunday of Advent. This is the Sunday when we light the candle of Peace. Peace. Wouldn’t that be nice?  Wouldn’t it be nice for the anniversary of the birth of the Christ child to come on a day when the earth is at peace? Not this year. As usual, the Middle East tops the list for volatility, from Iraq to Egypt, from Afghanistan to Syria. But war and unrest are not confined to the Middle East. As I was writing this message, an email came in from my daughter in Africa that the Rwandan-Ugandan border is now unsafe for Americans due to the presence of Congolese rebels, who are using the border of Uganda to attack those in Rwanda thought to be unsympathetic to the rebel cause in Congo. As we approach Christmas, many nations are in turmoil.
 The prophet Jeremiah cried out to the nation of Israel saying “To whom shall I speak and give warning? [6:10], meaning that no one was listening. I am afraid that for much of the world, Jeremiah’s cry would be heard no better today than in days of old. Many in this world would respond as did those within earshot of the prophet. We are deaf. We do not listen. Jeremiah goes on to say that from prophet to priest we have dealt falsely, that we have only healed the people’s wounds lightly, saying “Peace, peace, when there is no peace.” [6: 13, 14], that we are no longer ashamed; that we no longer even know how to blush. [15]
Is it hopeless? Of course not. We live in a world fashioned by God Almighty. The great I Am. Nothing is hopeless where God is concerned, and he is concerned with his people.  In Isaiah 64, Isaiah is tired and he wants God to make his presence known. He calls out for God to part the portals of heaven itself and come down. When God comes down, nations tremble and mountains quake. Yes, Isaiah wanted for God to shake things up.  
And Isaiah says But God, you are our Father. Please look upon us again. Don’t forget us. After all, you made us. You are the potter. It is in your hands that the clay that makes us was fashioned. Don’t be too terribly angry with us, Father. Don’t remember our sins forever. Please, look on your people again.
Ever seen a potter at work? I think it’s fascinating to watch a potter fashioning the clay, wetting it, getting just the right consistency, then plopping that slab of unformed clay right in the middle of the wheel. It’s amazing to watch what can happen to a slab of clay in the hands of an expert.  Incredible works of art burst forth in front of our very eyes as the craftsman turns his wheel and gently works the clay into urns, pots, plates and jars, to name a few creations.
“Don’t be too terribly angry with us, Father. Don’t remember our sins forever.” As the potter works, he realizes his creation is not right. It is missing something. It is not what he envisioned. Ever feel like you try and try, and the more you try, the worse off you are. Ever feel like you have the right angle on what to do and where to go and how you are to live your life, only to be slapped right back to where you started. Maybe it’s just God, the master potter, working and shaping you on his wheel, getting you to just the right consistency, just the right mix.
The potter slaps his hand right into the midst of his creation, and it collapses in a heap. He starts again, this time with a slightly different vision, this time perhaps with a little more color, a little more consistency.  Sometimes, the pot cracks and he has to start all over again. Over and over, the potter works his magic until at last, the finished product lies before him.
The prophets of old labored and labored to get the people of Israel on the right track. They labored before, during and after the exile, trying to bring God’s chosen into line with God’s vision. Seven hundred years passed from the time of Isaiah while the nation of Israel floundered. Seven hundred years passed as the Master Potter turned his wheel. And Isaiah reminded his people that “no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.”
Seven hundred years after Isaiah, a light shone over a manger in a little town in Judea. God had heard Isaiah’s plea and had come down. Nations did not tremble and mountains did not quake as Isaiah had forecast, as least not right away. The Master Potter had found another way to make his creation sing the song of peace that mankind had yearned for. Don’t you know Isaiah was watching from a front seat in his heavenly perch as God acted in such a mighty way! The Potter had cast himself onto the wheel. He sent his son as a newborn baby. The next three decades would harden and cure that son Jesus into the vessel from whom all of us should find our model. He would live to be glazed in the shadow of a cruel cross, but even that was meant for good.
In the New Testament, Paul echoes Isaiah’s thought. Paul tells the Corinthians that God has shone in our hearts, giving us the light of the knowledge of his glory. How does he do that, we ask? Paul says that God brings light from the darkness in the face of Jesus Christ. And there lies the peace that Advent promises us. God does act for those who wait for him.
Is there hope for us? Certainly. Is there peace in our future? Absolutely! We too are the work of the master potter. Paul reminds us that though we are no more than jars of clay ourselves to be thrown about, cracked and splintered, nevertheless we are God’s treasures. Paul reminds us that we are afflicted, but not crushed, perplexed but not to despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed. As our bodies and minds are worked and re-worked, we become a new creation.  Where once we were cracked pots of no use or value, now we become treasures of the Master. Our lives are fashioned in the hands of the potter, and in the end we are hardened for service and glazed for immortality in the light of the star over Bethlehem.
Peace will come. It will not come through the opening of presents or even through the purchase of them for loved ones, as nice as that is. It will not come through the lighting of the Yule log or the arrival of children home for the holidays, as warm as that promises to be.  Peace will come for those who understand the meaning of that star over Bethlehem. It will come through the Christ child sent from God.  In fact, for those who stand in that light that shines out of the darkness, the face of Jesus becomes our peace. Christ is coming, and in that coming lies the peace promised by Advent.
Claim it. Claim it for yourself this day and give it to your neighbor. The more you give it away, the more will it be finally captured in your heart, and present in your life.    

Monday, November 19, 2012

Wisdom From the Spirit (1 Cor. 2: 1-16) 11/18/12




We are in the information age.  Technological advances of the last two decades are mind boggling. Today we can calculate, process data, see each other through webcams, access music, books, even entire libraries on a wireless cellphone. We can read a book on an electronic tablet. We can buy groceries, have pizza delivered, check our bank accounts, pay our bills and much more without leaving our den. Television broadcasts hundreds of channels from all over the globe. You can make quality photographs on your printer, get news almost instantly from around the planet on your laptop. Information is at our fingertips.
Medical science has made huge advances. Dozens of diseases have been almost entirely eradicated. Hip and knee replacements are common. Organ transplants occur routinely. We can get lung, liver, kidney, cornea, even heart transplants. We know lots more about health and hygiene, what’s healthy for us to eat, what food portions are good for us, the importance of regular exercise. We are taller and stronger and live years longer than we used to.
We can propel vehicles with gasoline, ethanol, electricity and in the not too distant future, even solar power. We can produce energy not just with fossil fuels, natural gas and water, but also through wind and solar cells. Eight countries now have nuclear weapons capability, each with the power to blow up whole cities.
We have nations rich in foodstuffs, other nations rich in oil reserves, yet others rich with plentiful workforces. As a planet, we have enough resources to feed and clothe and heat and cool the world.
With all the information now available to us, we must be more educated. Well, at least more informed, more savvy. We have so much information at our disposal; we should be in the age of wisdom.
And yet, on any given day, 25,000 men, women and children die from hunger. Another 1.6 million die every year from poor drinking water. At least a dozen nations are in some stage of war at any given time. AIDS is in epidemic proportions in many African nations. One person dies from AIDS every 15 seconds. Measles kills a million people every year, even though a measles vaccination can be obtained for less than $1.00.  Human rights are trampled upon in much of the world. In the United States, almost 37 million people are on the welfare rolls, and we still have soldiers on the battle line in at least three countries. Many countries view the U.S. as the deliverer of democracy with a rifle.  Even in the information age, poverty and war remain familiar companions to our society.
So, where do we find wisdom? Is it in our elected leaders, or the stock market, or our personal banker? Sadly, we have many resources to inform us of the state of the world, but few who advocate the true road to wisdom. Often, we draw upon the wisdom of the world in which we live and work to get our answers about what to do with our time, and our talents, and our money. Is there wisdom in this approach?
1st Corinthians is a letter from the apostle Paul to the Corinthian Christians. There is more Pauline correspondence to Corinth than to any other place. Corinth was multi-ethnic, multi-racial and cross-cultural. In other words, it was a lot like a modern U.S. city. The Pauline letters to the church in Corinth have much in common with issues in the church today. Paul had come to Corinth from Athens, where he had tried philosophical arguments to make his point. He was unsuccessful. In fact, he was run out of town. He changed his tactics in Corinth. By his own words, he preached “Christ crucified” [1:22].  In other words, he relied on Christ’s message to put the right thoughts in his head and the right words in his mouth.
 In today’s Scripture, Paul writes a message to the members of the new church in Corinth. Although almost two thousand years have elapsed since he set pen in hand, his advice to the church is still as timely as it was in the first century.
Paul says this: “We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing” [v.6]. Paul reminds us that worldly wisdom is virtually useless to us when trying to discern the ways of the Spirit. He goes on to say that this “wisdom” is hidden, secret to God, revealed only from God, and only to those who believe. If one does not hear through the Spirit of God, then one cannot hear the message… or gain the wisdom, of the Spirit.
Now, doesn’t that sound like circular reasoning? If you don’t believe in God, then you can’t get the message. If you can’t get the message, you can’t become wise in the Spirit. If you can’t acquire Spiritual wisdom, how can you deal with this world spiritually? If you can’t deal with this world spiritually, how can you really say that you believe in God?
Paul’s answer is deceptively simple. Believe in God, and seek the truths of the Spirit in order to find Spiritual wisdom and direction.
So how can you come to believe in God when you are raised not in heaven but in this flawed world? Again, Paul’s answer is simple: Believe in God and seek His face. How? God will give you what you need to seek Him. God has already equipped every one of us with the grace required to seek Him, with the heart necessary to find Him, with the Word written to reveal Him. What do we have to do? Listen. Christian wisdom comes not from human discovery, but from divine disclosure.
 Watch or read the news or listen to it on the radio, and you read or hear about the issues of the country from the media. The major issues before us are how to get the economy going again or healthcare reform or illegal immigration or pro-life or pro-choice, to name a few.
Depending upon which political party or which media center or which state they are in at the time, our elected leaders offer us various solutions. No matter who we elect, our problems aren’t going away. Our country has got to get along with the rest of the world because we have become interdependent upon one another, and sadly, it has become out of vogue to look toward divine guidance as a source of direction. The concept of separation of church and state, designed to protect us from a state controlled church, has wrongly become separation of governmental policy from Christian policy.    
The real policy that God’s people should endorse is found in the 21st chapter of John. Jesus has risen from the grave and has joined the disciples on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias.  Jesus asks Peter three different times if Peter loves Him. Each time Peter says yes. As if to answer Peter on how to show his love, Jesus says three straight times: “Feed my sheep.”
          What was Peter told to do? Feed the hungry, shelter the poor and the widows. These are the mandates of the early church. These are the mandates of Jesus Himself. Jesus never said: Go ye therefore and build buildings. He said “teach all nations.” He never said: And now I am with you, even until the end of worship service. He said “even until the end of this age.” The job of the Church has never changed. It is the same, whether the church has 40 members or 400 or 4000 members. Feed my sheep. Jesus was referring not only to food for the belly, but also food for the soul.  Jesus wed himself to the Church through His disciples in order that they, and we, would feed the world with the Good News of Jesus Christ. That Good News is his life, death, resurrection, ascension to heaven and the saving grace he made freely available to every single one of us.
          “We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing,” says Paul. What is this message of wisdom? “Christ is our righteousness, holiness and redemption” [v.1:30]. Paul says that the only person who can tell us about God is the Spirit of God. This by no means frees us from the responsibility of human effort. If you want to receive the full measure of great teaching, you have to work at it. We must pray to have the mind of Christ, for only when he dwells within us can we deal effectively with the influence of this material world upon our thoughts and our actions. By prayer, by time spent in God’s Word, by cultivating relationships with other Christians, we come to the wisdom that is Christian maturity.
 If, according to Paul, only God’s people can understand Spiritual wisdom, then how do we convey our understanding to others not yet so inclined? Not everyone grows up in church, and even of those who do, the Church has been losing them in record numbers. So how do we talk to people who don’t as yet have the Spiritual wisdom to hear us?  
First, we don’t need to “talk” people into belief in Christ; we need to “live” them into it. Ever tried to make a green bean? Can’t be done. But you can plant bean seeds. And if you do, chances are you’ll have more green beans than you can eat. The harvest belongs to God. Always has. But the planting: now that’s a different story. God has given that task to us, the people of God. In Matthew 5: 16, Jesus says: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”
Secondly, we do not know who God’s people are. God created every one of us.  Everyone is a child of God. My job is not to identify. My job is to go, teach and baptize, and that is the job of every Christian.
Do you believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ? Has that belief changed your life? If is hasn’t, you need to seriously re-examine your commitments. If it has, then please, for God’s sake, don’t keep it a secret. Don’t be fooled by our material world. Wisdom is much, much more than knowledge. Walk the walk. Plant the seeds.  That, brothers and sisters, is Spiritual wisdom.