You Might Br a Disciple If…

                                            John 13: 31-35

          I think Jeff Foxworthy is a pretty talented man. But he got famous on one simple idea. No matter what else he ever does, Jeff Foxworthy will always be famous for being the man who coined the phrase: “You might be a redneck if…” “You might be a redneck if your working television sits on top of your non-working television… You might be a redneck if you’ve spent more money on your pickup truck than you have on your education. You might be a redneck if you’ve ever made change in the offering plate.”

          You get the picture. I’m sure you have your own favorite redneck joke. Foxworthy was really good at poking fun at us in a way that hurt a little and hit home a lot. He drew word pictures that we could see in our mind’s eye, and we could identify with those images.

          Foxworthy could have learned his craft in any number of ways. One person he might have picked up a tip from is Jesus. Jesus spoke that way more than once. He did it in the thirteenth chapter of John. Oh, he wasn’t talking about rednecks. He was talking about disciples.

You know what’s funny! I googled redneck. Wikipedia defines redneck as “a working-class white person, especially a political reactionary from a rural area.”  If you step back and look at that for a moment, it really is not a bad working definition of Jesus. He wasn’t white; he was Jewish. But he was certainly working-class. He was a political reactionary, even a revolutionary. And he was from a rural area up in the north country. Ever thought about Jesus being a redneck? It might come in handy when you’re witnessing to someone who doesn’t know him like you do.

In this text, Jesus was in the upper room this night before he went to his death on the cross, and he had supper with the faithful. He washed their feet. He gave Judas his marching orders. He told them he was about to be glorified. Those present really didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He knew that. He went on to tell them that where he was going they could not come. He didn’t mean forever, but it didn’t matter to the disciples. They were still trying to figure out what he meant by glorified. Then Jesus gave the disciples something to live by. He called it “a new commandment.” He was about to lay on them one of those one-liners that can make people famous, just like it did Jeff Foxworthy.

          Jesus said something very simple but so profound. “Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you are to love one another.” So simple. Love one another. He was talking to a hand-picked group which had been with him from the beginning of his ministry. And it had been a boots on the ground ministry that went up and down the road from Galilee to Jerusalem and points in between, always covering the synagogue but never omitting the crowds that gathered on the banks of the river or the side of a mountain.  Jesus was working-class. That’s the way God planned it. Even Foxworthy picked up on it in the many sayings for which he is quoted. Here’s another one: “Look at where Jesus went to pick people. He didn’t go to the colleges; he got guys off the fishing docks.”

And what did Jesus mean? What was his point? Well, I suspect he had more than one point. The first should be pretty obvious. If you love one another like the Son of God loves you, you are right in the short rows of righteousness. You are exactly where Jesus wants you. The second point Jesus made himself in this passage.  “By this all people will know that you are my disciples.”

There it is. You might be a disciple if people see that you love one another. How much? The same as Jesus loves you. That’s how much. They were just like us, those disciples. Working-class people. But they became disciples. Disciples of Christ. And it all started with that new commandment: Love one another.

Can you remember the New Commandment? Jesus gave it to the ones he loved on the night when it was all about to come to an end, or at least, a new beginning. He wanted them to remember just one thing. Love one another. That way, people would know. They would know that they were looking at disciples…followers…of our Savior. By this all people will know. Love one another. There’s a line to remember.

Listening For His Voice

                                            John 10: 22-30

          It’s winter time in Jerusalem and Jesus is walking along the colonnade called Solomon’s Portico. It’s more protected there than out in the open air of the temple court, and Jesus is probably enjoying a little protection from the weather. He is there during the Feast of the Dedication, also called the Feast of Lights. John tells us that the Jews gathered around him. In this context, we should take this to mean those Jews who were antagonistic toward Jesus rather than those who were friends. They want to know if he is the Christ. They keep pressing him for an answer. And his first words to them are “I already told you.”

There is a story by an unknown author.  You have heard it before. It’s about a very religious man who was caught in rising floodwaters. He climbed onto the roof of his house and trusted God to rescue him. A neighbor came by in a canoe and said, “The waters will soon be above your house. Hop in and we’ll paddle to safety.” “No thanks” replied the religious man. “I’ve prayed to God and I’m sure he will save me”

A short time later the police came by in a boat. “The waters will soon be above your house. Hop in and we’ll take you to safety.” “No thanks” replied the religious man. “I’ve prayed to God and I’m sure he will save me”

Not long after the boat left, a rescue services helicopter hovered overhead, let down a rope ladder and said. “The waters will soon be above your house. Climb the ladder and we’ll fly you to safety.” “No thanks” replied the religious man. “I’ve prayed to God and I’m sure he will save me”

All this time the floodwaters continued to rise, until soon they reached above the roof and the religious man drowned. When he arrived at heaven he demanded an audience with God. Ushered into God’s throne room he said, “Lord, why am I here in heaven? I prayed for you to save me, I trusted you to save me from that flood.”

“Yes you did my child” replied the Lord. “And I sent you a canoe, a boat and a helicopter. But you never got in.”  The Jews who questioned Jesus, probably very religious in their own way,  had much in common with this religious man, who couldn’t see the truth right in front of his face.

Just because you’re hearing doesn’t mean you’re listening. Hearing is an atmospheric disturbance that we call sound. Our ears perceive it, report it to the brain, and often that’s the end of it. Listening is something else altogether. Listening, real listening, takes your attention. Listening entertains thoughts, points of view, beliefs. Listening is what we do when we engage ourselves for participation mentally, emotionally, even physically. It’s not automatic. It takes practice and intention. Jesus understood this principle well. He often ended his parables with the statement: “He who has ears, let him hear.” Jesus wasn’t talking about physical ears. He was talking about listening.

So Jesus answers his critics, who want him to commit. They want him to incriminate himself. Claiming deity was not just insanity; it was illegal under Roman law and blasphemy under church law.  Jesus said that he had already told them. He was speaking about his works, which by this time were many. Everything about Jesus’s works screamed divinity. The things he did were not magic tricks. They were miracles. They could not have been done without the blessing of God. And yet, there were many who saw the acts and understood nothing. It’s like hearing, but not listening.

“I already told you,” said Jesus. He wasn’t just saying that.  He had told them at different times in different ways. According to John, Jesus had already said that he was the good shepherd, the gate by which we enter in, that he was alive before Abraham. They heard him, but they weren’t listening. They didn’t have “ears to hear.” Jesus said to them, “You do not believe because you are not among my sheep.” Wonder how that statement hit those who questioned him? You’re not among my sheep. You’re not part of my group. So what, they may have said. We are God’s chosen. We are the religious leaders. We don’t need to be your sheep. But they did.

The words of our Savior cannot be escaped. You don’t believe. You don’t believe because you aren’t one of mine. If you aren’t one of mine, you can’t hear me or even if you do, you won’t be listening. There is no question of the predestinational ring to this tune.  In the mystery that is God’s sovereignty, there are many who do not hear, who will not listen, who take the wide road and miss the turn to salvation, not because they weren’t invited, but because they turn a deaf ear to the truth. There’s no getting around the fact that heaven, while available to everyone, is not the destination for everyone. But everyone does have a destination.

The Scot’s Confession, one of the three great confessions of the Protestant Reformation and part of our Constitution, says this about eternal life:

…in the general judgment, there shall be

given to every man and woman resurrection

of the flesh…the dead shall arise to receive…

glory or punishment…Such as now delight in

[their own] vanity…shall be condemned to the

fire unquenchable, in which [they]… shall be

tormented forever, both in body and in spirit.

                                                          Chapter XXV 3.25

 

Almost five hundred years old, the truth of that statement still cautions us of that which awaits those who choose to find their own way and listen to their own rules. It echoes the words of John’s gospel. While John 3: 16 stands at the ready on the lips of every Sunday school child, John 3: 18 is seldom recited. Perhaps it should be as well. “Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.”

          You don’t believe because you are not one of mine, said Jesus. He answered his critics. He said Look. My works bear witness. Look at what I have done and please, tell me, who else can I be? My sheep hear my voice and they follow me. Those who believe listen and then they act on their understanding, on their conviction. “But you, you do not believe because you are not among my sheep.”

          I want to cry out to those Jews and to those today who would try foolishly to maintain that everything is ok, that it’s enough to be a good guy or gal, to lead a good life, to live and let live, to turn a deaf ear in the name of tolerance. I want to, but it will do no good. For to live in such a way is to ignore the plain teaching of the Bible. When tolerance is the mask that disguises our rejection of obedience to God, it is a mask behind which our faces serve a god, but it is the god of self. And the god of self, or inaction, or disobedience, is a god who will lead us to an eternal life of damnation.

No matter how many times I read verse 26, it leaves me shivering. “You are not among my sheep.” Does Jesus mean it’s over for this group? Is there a chance for them? Certainly the teachings of the Bible offer salvation to those who believe the gospel. But is there a point after which there is no return? Hebrews 6 cautions that it is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, and then fallen away, to be restored again to repentance. So there is a point of no return for those who have heard the gospel. For them, there is a point where, having been exposed to the light, returning to the darkness is no longer an option. If they do so, they are lost. Is this the case for those who are not among his sheep? If they have not yet tasted enlightenment, can there be hope that they will? Are there those among us who are not among his sheep?

Where are you? Are you a spectator? Are you a bona fide ticket holder in God’s visible church membership, but only a drop-in in the real church of faith? There is a difference between membership in a church and membership in God’s family. Jesus said that he “knows his sheep, and that they follow him.” Don’t miss that. It’s not enough that he knows you. You have to follow him.

You see, we all are going to live forever. That issue has never been in doubt. The question, friends, is not our existence, but our address. Among all those other voices around you, are you listening for his voice?  It’s not enough to hear. You have to listen, and then…you have to follow.

  Coming With the Clouds

                                      Revelation 1: 4-8

        In the seventh chapter of the book of Daniel, Daniel has a vision in a dream. Many think the vision has to do with the coming change in power; many also believe that it also prophesies about the end times, the times when Jesus, the Son of Man, will return. Daniel sees a night vision in which he says that “there came one like a son of man,” and he came with the clouds of heaven. He was given everlasting dominion and glory and an indestructible kingdom. And all people, nations and languages should serve him. This passage sums up the central theme of the book of Daniel, that God is sovereign over history and empires, that while all other kingdoms and governments will end, God’s kingdom will never pass away. Written in the sixth century, the words of Daniel ring as true today as they did in the time of the exile of God’s people.

          Jesus himself echoed Daniel’s vision in his statement to Caiaphas the high priest. He tells the high priest that “from now on, you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” Caiaphas called such talk blasphemy. Pretending to be God.  But Jesus was no pretender.

          In today’s text, John the elder or John the apostle, we know not whom for sure, uses the phrase again. In his greeting to the seven churches in Asia, he sends grace and peace from God, the Holy Spirit and Jesus Christ. John refers to Jesus here in three ways:  faithful witness, firstborn of the dead and the ruler of kings. John says Jesus loves us, that he freed us from our sins by his blood, that he made us—those who believe in him-- a kingdom where we will be priests of God.

And John goes on in his doxology ---doxology, by the way, is a short hymn of praises to God---John goes on to say that God’s glory and dominion will last forever, that Jesus is, guess what, coming with the clouds! John also says that everyone, believers and unbelievers, every tribe on earth, will answer to Jesus when he comes. From the words of Daniel to those of Jesus to the echo of John, we are promised that Jesus will come again and that he will come on the clouds of heaven.

          We have just ended the long march through Lent, through our sympathetic denial, up the road to Calvary to the cross. We have tried to remember and learn what it must been like…and much more importantly, why. Why did he do what he did? Who was it who allowed himself to be nailed to a cross, to take on our sin?

          In Revelation, John tells that Jesus was the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, the ruler of kings. He was the rainmaker, the bringer of salvation. His death and resurrection are the central message of Revelation, indeed the central message of Scripture, that Jesus is our Savior, that he changed all the rules, that by his love, his sacrifice, his grace, we are forgiven. That’s who Jesus was!

          On Maundy Thursday, we partook as a family of God in the Last Supper. We remembered. We ate and drank, knowing the symbolism of the body and blood of Christ. This morning, we have taken part in the other sacramental event in the life of God’s people. We witnessed the baptism of a young woman and her infant child. We also bear witness to the joining of the church by her and her fiancé. Each event has its own special significance. In each, the members of the church covenanted to help, to accept, to join with these young adults and their child in corporate worship and fellowship.

          Why baptism? Why join the church in this twenty first century when everything seems relative and truth seems only a buoy marker in the water to keep us from the sandbars of life? Why bother?  Revelation tells us why. Because if you believe what old John is telling you in Revelation, if you believe what all those other evangelists in the gospels and letters of the New Testament are bearing witness to, then you realize. You realize that no matter how you got here, no matter how unworthy you might be, no matter how old or how young you are, this is it. This is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, as the oath makers say.

Jesus is Who. Jesus is Why. Jesus is How. The day is coming, a promised day, when he will come with the clouds of heaven. Why do we still join the church? Because it is the family of God we are joining. Why do we baptize? Because it is a sign; a sign that we are part of that family. There is nothing more important. There is no life insurance policy ever created by man that can give the benefit of this simple belief: that he died, that he has risen, that he lives, that he will come again with the clouds of heaven for you and me!

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.”

Resurrecting the Resurrection

                                      1 Corinthians 15: 12-26

        Of all the religious beliefs held by those of us inhabiting this planet, perhaps the most outlandish is the resurrection of the dead. Only Christians, Jews and Islam believe in such a thing. Not Hindus or Buddhists or any other religion believes in it. Some religions do believe in some form of continued life, such as reincarnation, but not in the bodies we currently occupy being re-tooled for eternity. How crazy is that? To the Christian, it’s not crazy at all.  It’s in our creeds. It’s in our religious DNA. 

          But think about it. Resurrection of the body. It has only happened twice. Lazarus was the first. Jesus’ great personal friend died. Jesus wasn’t but half a day away and knew of his death. But Jesus waited several days to show up. He wanted to make a point. He wanted people to understand that even death cannot defeat the power of God. So Jesus waited until the body of Lazarus had begun to do what dead bodies do. Then, he acted. And a dead man walked out of his tomb, alive again.

          The other time was Jesus himself. He promised he would, and he did. The Scriptures tell us that Jesus rose from the dead on the third day just as he had predicted. Everything in the Scriptures indicates that he had the same body he died with. But after the resurrection, it appeared to be transformed in some way we cannot define. For instance, Jesus told Mary Magdalene not to touch him, as he had not yet ascended.  But later, he let others touch him.  He ate. He drank. He showed off the holes in his wrists.

          The gospel accounts and Acts testify to a number of post-resurrection encounters with Jesus. In today’s passage from 1 Corinthians, Paul begins the chapter by referencing six different appearances of Jesus to others after his resurrection. One of them is to Paul himself about three years after Jesus had ascended to heaven. The others are before the ascension. And Paul’s account doesn’t mention every incident. For instance, he doesn’t speak of Jesus’ appearance to the women at the tomb.

          So there are eyewitnesses. In courts of law then and now, two or more eyewitnesses were considered reliable evidence. Paul recites multiple instances and hundreds of people who saw that indeed, Jesus was resurrected. Paul, is doing nothing more than reciting the facts.

          And yet, people today don’t believe. People then didn’t believe. Why? Why didn’t they believe? There were eyewitnesses. Paul even used himself as a witness. Fully three years after the resurrection, Paul testifies to us that he has a physical encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus. He saw the risen Lord. It was life changing.

Why do people not believe? Maybe in part because the whole thing just defies our ability to conceive of it. He rose, not just in spirit, but in body! He was dead. No one really questions the historical account that Jesus lived or that he died and died of crucifixion. Many more, probably including the Corinthians to whom Paul was writing, believed that Jesus rose in Spirit. But not bodily! Come on!

But he did.  Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures. He was buried, and was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures. He made many appearances to people after his resurrection. This is what Paul tells those at the church in Corinth who do not believe in a bodily resurrection.

Much of Greek lore and philosophy had contempt for the body. They longed for the day when their eternal soul could be liberated from the crassness of the flesh. In contrast, Paul pointed out that it wasn’t just Christ’s soul that left the grave, but his body as well!

We live in a world of technology. We are digitalized. We want more pixels and gigabytes. We want everything proved empirically. If Jesus came now, he could  instagram his way into Corinth and Paul could have stayed home. We could all have seen the crucifixion on YouTube as someone’s cell phone coverage went virile. But Jesus chose to come onto our stage in a pre-gadget age. And even without all those technological enhancements, the story of Jesus has pervaded the society of man for two millenniums and still counting.  Jesus died and was buried and was raised. Apparently, the Christians in Corinth were hung up on the concept of bodily resurrection. They may have favored the Greek idea that the body stayed behind; that only the spirit was pure.

Why not?  I mean, a spiritual resurrection gets the job done, doesn’t it? It’s a resurrection of our essence. Isn’t that the point?

No, it isn’t! And the great apostle spends the entire passage hammering home how important it is that Christ rose bodily from the dead! He defeated death! The grave could not hold him. Some of the Corinthian Christians were stuck in their perception of corpses rising from graves like the zombies of our TV programs. They couldn’t see that the body and soul are tied forever to one another and that the essence of who we are, what makes us individuals, what identifies us, is body and soul woven together. Paul is not talking about ghouls and goonies. That’s the stuff of entertainment. He is talking about all that makes up a person, an individual, a creation from God: body, soul and personality, but cast in a resurrected presence. It will be the new, improved model, a model made for eternity, but with personal monogramming.

The resurrection.  It is not an optional belief. It is fundamental to understanding the work of Christ. It is the centerpiece of Christianity. Without the resurrection, nothing else matters. Without the resurrection, Christianity becomes another ethical model of gracious living with no outcome other than a nice life. But the resurrection is not a life model. It is the way to life!

Verses 12-18 are a litany of counter facts. If this, then that.

*If Christ is proclaimed raised from the dead, how can you say there is no resurrection?

 

*If there is no resurrection, then not even Christ has been raised.

 

*If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.

 

*If the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised.

 

*If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.

 

*If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.

 

          What a chilling conclusion. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But it is not for this life only. Paul says forget the counter facts, because they are not true. What is true is this: “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep…in Christ shall all be made alive…Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming, those who belong to Christ.”

           A seed is planted in the ground by a caring farmer. The seed is planted in good soil and is cared for and watered. The heat of the sun nourishes it. The seed dies. It is a necessary act that must precede the life that is to come. The death of the seed allows the plant to germinate. The result is a plant, transformed by the sacrifice of the seed into something alive and vital and beautiful. From the death of one comes the life of so many in new and splendid bodies. What a metaphor for Easter! So it is with our Savior. His obedience to the Father even unto death germinated not only his life eternal in a resurrected body, but also the lives of all who would follow him.

          Is the resurrection incredible? Of course it is! Only God could do it. But it is just as real as it is incredible. So today, this Easter Sunday, say with me the incredible truth. He is risen! Not he was, not he will be. He is! It is the great truth of the gospel and the great truth of all history that we believe not only that he lived, but that he lives. He has overcome sin, and he has overcome death, and if we believe, we have his promise that we can do the same.

So let us resurrect the resurrection. Let’s talk about it. Let’s celebrate it. It is the most liberating truth of all time. The natural conclusion to human life is not death, but rather life and life abundant. This is the message of the resurrection. We are all invited to the table.

The Lord Has Need of It  

 Luke 19: 28-40

         The nineteenth chapter of Luke’s gospel tells us that Jesus was coming up from Jericho to Jerusalem, about a seventeen mile journey. On the way, he tells the parable of the ten minas, a story about the importance and duties of stewardship. He apparently stops over to spend the weekend before Passover in Bethany with his friend Lazarus. Then he continues on Sunday from Bethany, about two miles out of town, into Jerusalem.

          When Jesus reaches Mt. Olivet, he sends two disciples ahead to a village, perhaps Bethpage. He tells them to look for a colt tied up and to bring it back to him. He says if anyone asks why you are doing this, just say “The Lord has need of it.” Luke says they were sent away and that they found the colt just as Jesus had told them.

          Now, what have we encountered here? Has Jesus been doing some advance planning? Are he and his disciples so well known and respected that on facial recognition alone, some owner will trust them with his animal? Is this the fulfillment of some Scripture? Yes, yes and Yes. Yes, Jesus, or one of his crew, may well have lined up the use of an animal ahead of time. That would not have been terribly unusual. Yes, Bethpage, or any other village close to Bethany, was small and the news of the healing of Lazarus would have made Jesus, and perhaps his disciples as well, famous to the area. And yes, in the book of Zechariah, the prophet rallies the people of God to persevere. The exile is over, but the temple is far from being rebuilt and there are obstacles at every turn. In the ninth chapter, Zechariah prophesies of the coming King of Zion, saying,

Behold, your king is coming to you;

righteous and having salvation is he,

humble and mounted on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.         Zech 9:9

 

The word colt was used to denote not only the foals of horses, but also of donkeys. In the context of this passage, which is all about the entry of a king of some sort, it is more likely that the colt to which Jesus refers is that of a donkey. In the culture of the time, kings rode horses into battle, but rode donkeys into town to denote the peace they had secured. So in this case, the entry of a king would not be on a horse.

So Jesus the outlaw,  Jesus the man who has people looking to execute him, rides into town in the most public of ways to a cheering crowd of followers. Luke says the whole multitude of his disciples were there, implying that it wasn’t the crowd or the curiosity seekers, but rather all of his many disciples who were present. They praised his name. They applauded his mighty works. They were ready to crown him King.

           There were Pharisees in this crowd. Some said to Jesus to rebuke his disciples, to silence their cheering. They may well have been sympathetic to Jesus. Perhaps they were just trying to persuade him to stay low-key. Reading the story, one can’t be sure of their persuasion. Jesus responds. He uses words about stones crying out, but his message to the Pharisees is not intended to be veiled. He is saying that the witness to this story cannot be silenced, cannot remain untold.

          There is much here to mine as always. But when I read this passage, three things keep commanding my attention.

All three have to do directly or indirectly with what Jesus said in this passage.  The first is those words of Jesus: “The Lord has need of it.”  The second is more about the revelation of Jesus’ words: they “found it just as he had told them.” The third comes from Jesus at the end of the passage: “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” In a way, they are all you need to know about our Savior.

          The Lord has need of it. Change the pronoun. The Lord has need of him. The Lord has need of her. The Lord has need of you. The Lord has need of me. If anyone asks you why you are visiting the sick, your answer might be: the Lord has need of me. If anyone asks you why you tithe your hard earned money, you might answer: the Lord has need of it. If anyone asks you why you get up earlier on Sunday and take time dressing your children in their Sunday best and rushing out the door when instead, you could have enjoyed a cup of coffee on your day off, your answer might be: the Lord has need of them…and me!  What Jesus was instructing his disciples that Sunday long ago was that he had a plan.  In his wisdom and his grace, he involved two disciples, two followers, to make that plan come to pass. He didn’t need them…he chose them. He still does that today. He doesn’t need us; he chooses in his grace and love toward us to involve us, to enlist us, to create a need for us. The Lord has need of you and me and us.

          Secondly, when we respond to Jesus, when we go out and do what he calls us to do, we will find things to be just as Jesus has promised us.  In this passage, Jesus predicted the outcome of the disciples’ encounter in the village. They found things just as he had told them. Jesus called upon them to do a small chore, but gave them nothing with which to present themselves other than a sentence identifying him as the sponsor. They had no need for more. They only had to obey his bidding and things turned out just as he had said. Has this happened to you? It certainly has if you have acted at the direction of God. Have you stopped to pray with a friend in the grocery store? Have you felt the guiding of the Holy Spirit to do something out of the ordinary for you? To say something not in your comfort zone? When we obey our Lord, things turn out just as he tells us they will. We have only to act.

          So first, the Lord, in his grace and love, has included us. The Lord has chosen to have need of us. Second, when we let the Lord include us, when we answer his call, things will turn out just the way the Lord has told us. Third, don’t even think about trying to silence the witness of something as powerful as the good news of Jesus Christ. It can’t be done. Jesus answers the Pharisees in words that can be found in Habakkuk: “For the stones will cry out from the wall, and the beam from the woodwork respond.”  [2: 11]. There, the prophet speaks to plunder and ill-gotten gains and warns that houses and structures built with such will find the very building materials crying out for justice. In this passage, Jesus looks at the Pharisees as he might look at religious skeptics of our day. His answer to them is not unlike Habakkuk. Don’t try to silence the message that cannot be silenced. To silence the tongues of the human witnesses is to invoke those of nature itself. The gospel cannot be silenced. The story must be told.

          The question for us on this Palm Sunday is not whether the story is true or whether it bears being told. Those answers are already in. The question for us is whether we will listen and what we will do with the information. Will we answer the call to be needed by our Lord? Will he have need of you? Will we go where he calls, do what he asks? Will you witness to that which you believe? Let the stones stay silent, though they and all creation await our commitment to be relieved of their groaning. If we do, if you do, as did those two unnamed disciples, that we will find it just as he has told us.     

             Tweening             John 12: 1-8

       Some names go together. In folk music, it’s Peter, Paul and Mary. In pop culture, it’s Abraham, Martin and John.  In the Old Testament, it’s David and Jonathan. In the Gospels, it’s Peter, James and John, or Mary, Martha, Lazarus and Judas. Wait a minute. Play that last one back again. Mary, Martha, Lazarus and Judas? It just doesn’t fit, does it? Judas doesn’t fit in such a group. His is a one way, one dimensional history. Judas is the betrayer. Yet there he is in Bethany at the home of Lazarus. In a strange way, he does fits, for here, in this scene, there is the presence of death, so much so that is it sometimes referred to as the death passage.

          The story of the anointing of Jesus appears in all four Gospels. There are quite a few variations. In two gospels, it takes place at the home of Simon the leper. In another, Luke, it happens at the home of a Pharisee. The timing is different in Mark, occurring after Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, whereas the others place it on the weekend before the Passover and before Jesus comes to town. In two gospels, it is the head of Jesus which is anointed, but in the other two, it is his feet.  The story in Luke seems to have so many variances that some think it may be a different story altogether. While some facts vary from gospel to gospel, what is clear is that a woman, probably Mary the sister of Lazarus, anointed Jesus with an oil that was worth a year’s pay for a common laborer.

          As I was preparing this message, my wife called me to check in. How are you? How’s it going? Are you writing? The usual small talk and questions, probing me to make sure how I am, whether I’m ok. Then an observation. She had come from teaching a class. A friend of some years was there. She had been absent for some time, undergoing chemotherapy. The regimen has reached its end. Her body can no longer tolerate the treatments. Now the disease will have full access to her. Her time with us is now measured by weeks and months rather than years. The presence of death is very real for my wife’s friend and for all those who care for her.

          The scene at Bethany is somewhat surreal. Lazarus has been miraculously raised from the dead by Jesus. Jesus is now an outlaw and yet he is voluntarily looking into the jaws of the lion as he prepares to enter Jerusalem for the Passover. A meal has been prepared, perhaps even a banquet. This may be the first appearance for Lazarus after his resurrection. He too is a marked man by the Sadducees, who run the Sanhedrin, the ruling body of the Jews. They do not believe in the resurrection of the body and Lazarus is living proof that it can happen.  Here he is, reclining at table with Jesus the outlaw. It is as if the backdrop of death is breaking bread with the foreshadowing of death. Lazarus, the newly undead, sitting with Jesus, the about-to-be dead. No wonder it has been called the death passage. Like my wife’s friend and her circumstances, the presence of death is very real here, too.

          To this atmosphere are added Mary, Martha, Judas and probably the other disciples, though their presence is only implied. Martha is serving. That’s what Martha does. Mary is loving. Where Jesus is concerned, that’s what Mary does. Judas is griping. That’s what Judas does. Well, he also steals. The passage calls him a thief.

          Mary, ever the loving servant, breaks out a pound of very expensive perfume. It is used, among other things, to adorn the body of the dead. John tells us that not only does she bathe the feet of Jesus in this oil, but that she also cleans up the excess with her hair. Both are acts of extreme humility and devotion. Judas is irritated and says as much. Why would you lavish all this expense to wash his feet when water would do? This money could go a long way to feed the poor. John lets us know what Judas really wants. He wants access to all that money. Jesus tells Judas to leave Mary alone. He alludes to his impending date with the cross when he says that Mary may elect to save it for his burial. Then, he tells those gathered that the poor will always be there, but not so for him. He is again alluding to his death, although there is no way that those listening can catch his meaning.

          Mary’s deeds are such a witness. She holds Jesus in such high esteem that rather than anoint his head, a sign of honor,   she anoints his feet to show her complete humility. Mary even throws convention to the wind and lets down her hair to wipe away the excess. Such a display was unheard of in polite company. Indeed it was the sign of an immoral woman to be seen with her hair down in public. But Mary thought nothing of what others would say. She was totally devoted to Jesus.

          There is a lot going on here. Lazarus is up and about. The great friend of Jesus whose death caused our Savior to weep is now socializing. His testimony of resurrection is so powerful that the religious leaders will plot to have him executed. Martha is serving, a role to which she is accustomed. This is how she testifies. She says little, but is always near, working in the background. There is Judas, described here as disciple, betrayer and thief. His concern is with money and its pursuit. He can lay no claim to higher ground. There is Mary, the sister of the man returned from the dead. Surely Jesus is nothing less than God to her. He saved her brother. For Mary, the banquet is a woefully inadequate thank you. She takes her most treasured possession and bathes Jesus in it. Nothing is enough to reward him for what he has done and who he is.

          And then, there is Jesus. Like that backdrop of death that  Lazarus cannot help but bring to the table, Jesus shows us the ominous foreshadowing of his own death, now less than a week away. No matter that his hosts and followers do not know, for he does. This is what he has come to do and it looms large in his thoughts.

          Yet there is more to this story than the former and future deaths these men will undergo. There is much more. As surely as Lazarus reminds us that he died, his very presence screams to us that he lives! He is resurrected from days in the grave, nights without breath or life. One cannot help but wonder if the strong aroma of the perfume does not also help to hide the pervasive smell of death that may still follow Lazarus. And Jesus. Jesus looks clearly toward a killing cross, knowing and even predicting that as surely as he will allow the earthly temple of his body to be destroyed, it too will rise in those predicted three days, resurrected from death…and offering mankind the same future if it, we… will but ask and believe.

          A supper. A banquet.  A testimony not just of death but of resurrection. It is like the testimony with which Jesus left us. The kingdom of heaven is at hand. It is here, incomplete and messy, but here. The Spirit comes to us and we feel…we know…that he is here, that he is in us, part of us. And yet, he has not yet come. It is not yet the end of the age. We live in the middle of the already but not yet. We are tweeners, hurting from the sin that remains within us and healing from the spirit that washes over us.

Can we live with both these existences? Can we both live in the valley of the shadow and bask in the light of the Son? That is often what is required of us in this life. And so the answer must be yes. Yes, we can walk in that valley. We can walk in as many valleys as come to us. Judas captured the treasury and bankrupted himself. Mary gave the bank away and found the riches of the love of God. We can do the same as Mary did if we believe. We can do so because death holds no power over the Christian.  We can do so… because of the resurrection. He lives!

             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.