Describe Yourself (Pt. 1)

“I Am Created By God” Gen. 1: 26-31; Eph. 2: 1-10

            On my Dad’s side of the family, there are folks with great carpentry, masonry, and home building skills. They can take the wood, the cement, and other materials and make houses, barns, and fantastic things. When I was little, I decided I would try my hand at this as well. So, I took some old wood scraps, some plaster, a hammer, and nails. Before I go further, this was the point in life that I learned the old phrase, “You can do and be anything you want,” is quite true in theory, but might not necessarily work out in practice. 

            I hammered, plastered, and molded this small monstrosity of a something while dad was off working somewhere else. I started to pick it up and the whole thing fell apart…except for what I had accidentally nailed to the floor which thankfully had not been carpeted yet. I learned two things. First, I could follow Jesus in every way but that carpentry part. Second, though God gives us all creative skills, we are not all meant to be the master creator that God is. When we talk about creation, there are two things we must remember: we are created in the image of God, and we are God’s masterpiece—wanted by God—and created anew. 

            There are times we forget the true majesty and amazing power of God’s creation. The story becomes part of a Sunday School lesson, or a childhood Bible reading. But the Genesis story of creation gives us a very clear picture of just how fantastic creation is. Verse 27 says, “So God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God, he created them.” When God first created us, we were made fully and completely in God’s image. That’s no small thing. Now, you may be wondering about the whole woman taken from a man’s rib part of the story. That’s in chapter 2 of Genesis. The Book of Genesis tells the creation story in different detail in both chapters one and two. Here, we see the boldest statement: humankind is made in God’s image. All of us…every single one of humankind. 

As part of that creation, we were made to have a special relationship with God. Verse 26 says we were made to be like God. We are also told that we are to be in charge of God’s creation—stewards of what God has created. Not only are we made exactly as God desired and imagined us to be, like God himself, we are vested with the call to care for God’s creation here on earth to the best of our abilities. 

So, what went wrong? Where did this story of creation and perfection go off the rails? Ephesians tells us that this tipping point was when we became burdened with disobedience and sin. Many of us here in church have followed God for years, attended church weekly, read our Bibles. And yet, I’m willing to bet we can still remember a time when the desires of our hearts were drawn to something a little less holy…perhaps a bottle, perhaps a drug, a disillusionment, a bitterness or pity and anger. There are so many things in the human experience that can cloud the miraculous relationship we have with God. I bet, though, in the back of our minds, and even as I say it, we all have the one or two things we can think of which make us swallow a bit hard because they weren’t our finest moments. 

In all of those moments, and all of the subsequent relapses, God’s love always continues to pursue us, for God created us in his image. There’s more to that idea. If God created us in his image, it means that God wanted us, perfectly imagined and created us exactly as he, the master of creation, wanted us to be, and not a single mistake was made in how God envisioned us. Now bear in mind, I’m not necessarily talking about your physical appearance. God has many appearances, including wind, fire, a blinding presence, a human or angel, and even a burning bush. What’s important is that God fashioned who you are, your mind, your heart, and your soul in God’s image. 

There’s a hope in knowing that God wanted us, calls us, and even in our ugliest moments of life, never stopped pursuing us. We can turn our backs all day long, stop believing, nose-dive off the high board into the pool of sin to wallow around all day long, but God never stops calling to us, pulling at us to come home, encouraging us to be yielded to God’s holy will, or convicting us if we truly need it. The point is, no matter how far we run or tune out, God never gives up on us and will wait until we are willing to come back to our Creator. 

Because of that love of God, we are told that God “has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago,” in verse 10 of Ephesians. When I made my spackled, wood-glued, nailed to the floor monstrosity, I was so frustrated by its failure that I threw it out in the garbage and swore never to do anything like that again. God, however, got the last laugh after I bought an 80-year-old house in need of constant repair. But then God knows best, as we see even as creation failed, God offered a way to be created a new and have that broken relationship restored—to be made whole again with God, the Creator who loves us. 

God sees us as a masterpiece. Ephesians 2:10 tells us such, “For we are God’s masterpiece,” and the only part of creation made in God’s image. What does this mean for us? Just as God created us anew, we should be willing to create anew in our lives. I think for many people church is seen as a requirement or burden. We’ve always done it. We are expected to “do church.” Perhaps for some of us our parents drug us to Sunday School, church, fellowship time, evening service, youth group, Wednesday Bible Study and the gossip session (I mean prayer circle Thursdays). 

Maybe church and faith can be created anew for us. A friend’s church decided that once a month, they would “create anew” in ways that made a difference. So, they started on that one Sunday meeting in their fellowship hall to sing and pray over a service project even as they worshiped. The first month they put together backpacks for the schoolkids. Another month they did gift bags for a nursing home up the street. All the while they were serving, they sang hymns, prayed, read scripture, and at the end shared communion before going home. Soon, those services were the best attended that they had—filled with ministry to the church and mission to the community around them. 

Sometimes faith takes a bit of imagination. I’ve heard the hymn “Amazing Grace” hundreds of times now in my life and ministry. You would think, by now, it would be old and tired. Yet every time that fourth verse rolls around, “When we’ve been there then thousand years…” I feel a knot in my throat and need a deep sigh to get through. It’s a reminder that we can still feel God’s soft, gentle voice calling to each and every one of us, who are made in God’s image and created anew by his love and sacrifice. 

I may have made a mess of my own creation and tossed it out in the trash, but God is the master creator and Christ is the merciful redeemer. There is no trash with God—only something to be salvaged and refurbished. As we give up on our own way (which usually leads down the sinful path anyway) and let God have control, God promises we will be created anew and reimagined into the masterpiece God designed us to be. Praise be to God—the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/508945933578252

Something More...(Final)

Something to Testify About: Isaiah 6: 8-13; I John 5:9-13

            In the legal world we have a phrase called voir dire. If you’re using the Old French, it would be “vwar DEAR.” If you live in the South, it’s “VOR-dyer.” But regardless of the accent the wording gets the meaning of the phrase is what’s important. Voir Dire is the time when attorneys question jurors about whether or not they are a good fit to sit on a particular case. It means, literally, “to speak the truth.” And so, to this phrase, there are two parts: the truth, and speaking. Both of those are present in our scriptures today which call us to our own form of Voir Dire—a call to speak the truth. 

            The scripture in Isaiah for today is a very harsh word. Most of the time we read up to the very powerful and climactic part where the Lord’s voice asks, “Whom shall I send?” And Isaiah, in response to God’s call to be a messenger to the people, responds with power and strength, “Here am I, Lord, send me!” It’s grand and powerful to finish with this call. Pastors love to emphasize it especially when we want to guilt trip the congregation into an evangelism project. But then God yanks the rug out from under us and Isaiah.  

            God tells Isaiah to say to the people, “Listen carefully, but do not understand. Watch closely but learn nothing. Harden the hearts of these people. Plug their ears and shut their eyes.” Isaiah’s call is to preach so that they will not understand, preach so that they will never listen, preach so that they will not turn back to God. Isaiah is not being sent as the prophet to save the people. He’s being sent to pronounce and execute God’s judgment. I often wonder how long it took them to realize something was badly wrong, but it’s not Isaiah’s prophetic capabilities that are the problem for them. Isaiah was called to speak the truth, but in this case, the truth was a harsh reality. 

            In the New Testament we hear the message of hope given to us to speak. When we say our own, “Here I am, Lord, send me,” it’s a very different message from Isaiah. Our prophetic word is the vast, unmatchable, and transforming love of God. It’s a message to the people of a love and grace so powerful that it turns even the hardest heart. Isaiah was called to harden the people’s hearts so that judgement would fall upon them for their wickedness. We are called to the exact opposite—to speak the truth of a love that saves and reconciles those who are broken and empty to a God who offers wholeness and redemption. That is a truth we can all rejoice in. 

            So, what does I John say that our truth really is? It’s spelled out in verses 12 and 13: “Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have God’s son does not have life. I have written this to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know you have eternal life.” The truth we have is that we have God’s spirit to give us life now and God’s promise of eternal life later. This is a powerful truth and message for us, and it’s a truth we must listen to. 

In Isaiah’s day, the King was named Ahaz. God sent a word of truth and power to Ahaz that when Assyria rose against him and the neighbors of the kingdom started trouble, that God would give the victory over all of them and keep Ahaz and the people safe. Ahaz refused to listen to this truth that God would be with them, would give them victory, and would be their hope and stay. He chose truces with Assyria and other empires and kingdoms instead in a frantic attempt to ward off an attack. The truce with Assyria brought peace, but at the cost of full control by Assyria including religious control. Ahaz built altars to false gods and turned his heart to political answers instead of God’s truth. 

Truth is found in believing God’s promises and how this is done is through our trust. Isaiah was given a message of doom and tragedy. He had to trust God enough to go and preach it to the Israelites, confounding them and turning them away to their own destruction. We are entrusted with a message of life and hope, and we must believe God that the promises of I John 5 are true. 

One of the things I was talking with another pastor about the other day is that we’ve lost this idea of speaking or testifying about our faith. Churches have, too often, become very insulated places. All of our friends go to church. Everyone we know is Christian, has a church home, goes regularly. Part of speaking the truth, of testifying, of “evangelism” as it was called in the olden days is coming out of the bubble we live in to talk about love and grace, hope and welcome with those who are not like us. 

Centuries ago, this idea looked like conquering non-Christian peoples and converting them at the edge of the sword. If the choice is between being stabbed to death and conversion, I’m sure you’ll have good new member numbers. Even a few years ago, this idea held sway in watered down versions. People who disagreed or thought critically were shunned because it wasn’t expected you would read and analyze. You were meant to parrot back the church line, not read and engage and think about God’s word. I remember once in youth group that we were organizing for an “evangelism mission.” The question came up what we should do if people didn’t want to listen. Our youth leader, who could be abrupt at times, said we should tell them that they’d end up in hell frying like sausages. I didn’t go to the event after that. And I stopped going to youth group. I heard the project was a bust.

The message we are given is a message of hope and life. Like Paul we are to tell others (and let them see it in our lives) of this love that transforms hearts and minds. Christ brought us a message of compassion not compulsion, a message of hope over hell, a message of welcome over punishment and exclusion, and a message of love. The prophets of old were sent to warn the people of God’s coming wrath. We are sent to tell of the Good News that death, wrath, and all manner of bad things are swallowed up in Christ’s victory. 

When Isaiah heard the word of God asking whom God would send to the people, Isaiah was quick to say, “Here I am, Lord, send me.” But it was to be a bitter prophesy to the people. As we respond the same asking God to send us to the people, we are reminded that it is a word of hope we take with us—that Christ died and rose again so that we might have life. Each time a lawyer enters the courtroom, he or she has an opportunity to voir dire (vwar-DEAR) or voir dire (VOR-dyer)—depending on where you are—a jury. Those words call to us as well—to speak the truth. God’s truth is plain: Christ came to give life here and eternal life beyond here. God stands ready, asking, “Whom should I send as a messenger to the people? Who will go for us?” What will your answer be?

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/793242774659487

Something More... (Part 5)

Something More Than Defeat: Psalm 98; I John 5: 1-6

            A few years ago, a friend of mine was going through a mopey, whiney time of life. He wasn’t clinically depressed, or at least the doctor said not, but he was still down in dumps, or as my grandmother used to say, he was “down in the doldrums of life.” Now his mother was a wise, wise woman. She knew when to offer comfort, when to offer strength, and when to give a good, hard push. So, one night he called her moping and whining about, complaining about everything despite having a rather good life. Finally, his mother gave a truly startling response. She said, “Well, son, I don’t know what to tell you, you’re just gonna have to suck it up, deal with it, and get on.” He was, at first, shocked that she didn’t speak sweetly and comfortingly. But this good, hard push is exactly what he needed to overcome this defeat he was bringing on himself. 

            Friends, as we continue our series on something more, we are reminded that faith teaches us to live in the knowledge that Christ has given us victory over trouble, sin, and even death itself. We do not have to live in a place of defeat and doldrums because there is power in blood and victory in Jesus, to quote the old hymns of the church. This morning we look at two things that remind us of our victory. The first is overcoming the defeatist attitude in our life and our being, the second is testifying to this hope that we have. 

Overcoming defeatism in our lives is not easy. Sometimes it’s just a belief we are convinced of, and sometimes it’s tied to deeper psychological issues. Medicine and therapy can deal with those issues and struggles (and I stress the need for this if those issues are diagnosed), but for the spiritual side, we must change our hearts and minds from a belief of ultimate defeat to a mindset of victory in Jesus. In 1952, a minister from New York, named Norman Vincent Peale, published a book titled, The Power of Positive Thinking.” It became widely panned by psychology for being pseudo-science. It was panned by theologians as being just a bit theologically wonky (that’s a technical term). But the general public loved it…including several presidents and well-known ministers. 

Much of the book is probably not going to solve every problem you face in life; however, there is a bit of validity to the idea that if you fill your life with defeat and negativity every single day, you will end up with a self-fulfilling prophecy. Psalm 98:2 rejects this negativity and proclaims, “The Lord has announced his victory and has revealed his righteousness to every nation!” Consider this, if you fill your body with huge amounts of sugar every day, you’re going to become sick and diabetic. If you eat significant quantities of raw chicken, you will likely end up with salmonella poisoning. If you eat healthy and exercise the most likely outcome is (usually) good health. Likewise, if your spiritual intake is constantly filled with evil, suffering, defeatism, and negativity, you will have no room for the goodness, and the wonder of God’s love and presence. The past year and pandemic have taught us so clearly, that whatever Godly wisdom or worldly foolishness you fill your mind with, there is where your faith and growth in God will go. 

            Our faith is very simple in so many ways— “Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has become a child of God,” we hear in verse 1 of I John 5. The second verse adds to this: “We know we love God’s children if we love God and obey [God’s] commandments.” Sometimes obedience comes in hearing God’s call to some kind of ministry or mission. But sometimes, obedience is having the faith to respond when God calls (much like my friend’s mother), “You’re gonna have to suck it up, trust me, and get on.” 

            This tougher side of God is a bit harder of a pill to swallow sometimes. It’s easy when we talk about God being loving and supportive and warm, but sometimes God can sound less warm and gentle and more like a drill instructor. Look at how many times Moses was given tough directions. Look at God calling out to Jonah in his defeatist, angry time. Look at God wrestling with Jacob. God is going to get our attention, and God is always going to win the battle with us. The good news is, God gives us victory too, through our faith, and through our work to follow God and Christ’s example in this world. 

Therefore, we can sing God’s praises and feel our spirits lifted at the reminder that God has conquered all the evil of this world, and we testify to that great hope we have. The Psalm calls us to “sing a new song to the Lord, for [God] has done wonderful deeds.” Over and over the Psalm talks about life, earth, and creation singing God’s praises for God has “won a mighty victory” and “shown his saving power.” I John 5:4 says it most clearly, “For every child of God defeats this evil world, and we can achieve this victory through our faith.” That is a powerful point we can share with others. No matter how troublesome things are here and now, the end of our story is victory, joy, and hope.  

            For many of us, that’s where we need to live—in the reminder of hope, in the reminder that life is not about ticking away the minutes until we die. Our time here is about making the most of every situation, proclaiming the love of God at every single turn, and embracing this hope that there’s something more than being plunked in the grave and that’s it. God has made a promise that there is something more than death and defeat, and we are to have faith in that promise. In living that faith, we love, embrace, help, heal, and strengthen those on this earth who are in need, just as God gives us strength and help and healing when we are in need.  

            One of the many empowering things I found in this church is a number of strong mother-figures who have led, supported, and guided me and this church with great wisdom from God. One of those was a lady named Barbara Wright. She died in 2012, so many of you would not have even met her. She was a hoot to be around. I’ll never forget visiting her one Sunday after church. She was so overwhelmingly excited, and as I learned, not necessarily by my visit, though she was happy to see me. By this time of her life, she was taking regular chemo, was on oxygen, and rarely got out of the house except for a few short trips. But this day she was bubbling with joy. She wanted me to come and look at her new washing machine. She had bought a new, front-load washer with more buttons on it than an airplane. And she had read the instruction book cover-to-cover to know exactly what each and every one of them did. 

            I’m sure I must have looked a bit funny. She said to me that she knew it might seem silly for a woman of her age and condition to buy such a thing. But with a smile she added that she’s only going to die once, and every other day she gets to live, and by golly, her clothes will be good and clean when she gets to heaven. Sometimes in life, we have to remember that God has overcome defeat, overcome death with life, and so we can tap into that holy and heavenly power to still ourselves for resolve, deal with it, and get on. Each time we do, the God who created all of earth, offered grace to humankind, and loved each and every one of us will be there to give us the strength and hope over and over again. May God bless you this Mother’s Day. Amen. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/2231270913677063

Something More... (Part 4)

“Something More than a Feeling” Proverbs 3:3-4; I John 4:7-21

            During college I filled in as the musician at a small country church for one and only one Sunday. I’ve never told this story before. As the choir warmed up the hymns, two of the 9 choir members began to have a disagreement over how a hymn should be sung. I stopped playing to give them room to fight over the speed and a couple of perceived wrong notes (though they were all a bit out of tune). After yelling insults back and forth, expounding on their varied knowledge of music, the two came to final crescendo of the fight. One threw her hymnal down and declared that she was leaving for good. As she was storming out the back, the other one wadded up her bulletin and hurled at the back of the one walking out and yelled, “And stay out you old cow!” And because I was not to be outdone, I started playing the hymn, “Keep on the Firing Line.” I never went back, but I’ve always been curious how things turned out. 

            In that comical but sad context we hear the words of I John 4: “Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” Or as Proverbs 3 so carefully reminds us, “Let love and faithfulness never leave you.” Love is one of the most versatile words in the English language. We can at the same time say that we love a burrito as well as say that we love the Lord with all our heart, and in both contexts, “love” means something different. Obviously, we don’t love objects or things in the same way we love God. As far as the idea of “love” as used in the Bible, C. S. Lewis wrote about the four different words or types of love that could be meant. 

            The first is the Greek word storge (storg-ay) which is an empathetic or familial bond much like a parent and child. When we think on this kind of love, we are drawn to verse 9, “God showed u show much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world.” Over and over I John talks about God sending Christ, the Son, so that we might be children of God as well. This image reminds us of God as the provider and caregiver, for as the old hymn says, “Be not dismayed, whate’er betide, God will take care of you.” Familial love is one that is supposed to be warm and nurturing but also tough where it needs to be to encourage growth. 

            In a way it’s almost pastoral as a minister relates to his or her congregation. One of our beloved, retired ministers said some very wise words to me once. In the context of families and churches, you have to remember that feelings are facts no matter how silly it may seem to you. To that person who is feeling the emotions, those feelings are stone cold facts, and you must address it as such. It’s called empathy, and that allows us to love and care by understanding from another’s point of view, not just feeling the emotion, but understanding it. 

            Similar to familial love, the next type, philia, is often described as a friendship as close as brother or sisterhood. Verse 12 says, “No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full completion in us.” This type of love is risky because it calls us to make bonds and connections of deep trust with people who aren’t family or a spouse. That kind of love is difficult because it has to grow its own foundation. It’s a testimony, though, to God living in us when we learn to love through a bond with others as opposed to obligation or mission. There’s a newer hymn that says, “Let us join our hands that the world will know we are one in the bond of love.” God calls us to trust and love one another 

             We are going to skip the third one, eros, or romantic love, and move along to the final one. You’re very single pastor is not going to offer marital advice as we’d all find that just a bit rich, I think. Lastly, then, is agape (uh-gawp-ay) love which is the highest form and the charitable, sacrificial, and unmatchable love of God. Verse 10 speaks to this, “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” Real love understands both the power of that warmth and goodness flowing from a softened, trusting heart, but also knows the risks found in sacrifice. John 15:13 says, “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Now, likely, you are not going to be called to love even until you are sacrificed to death, but love can still call us to give some of ourselves. 

            I’ve often heard people say that true, Christ-like love is more than a feeling. It’s a verb, an action, something we live and do. Love is found in those who sacrifice the time to volunteer to serve meals to the poor and needy. Love is found in those who give up a little something to buy a few Kroger cards or donate to the food/mission drives. Love is found in being present when people need someone in their lives. Love is found in welcoming all into God’s house so that not one soul ever misses an encounter with Christ who loves them, redeems them, and calls them his very own. 

            Love is something we do, more than a feeling. I John gives a warning about this agape love, saying that “anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” God IS love. It’s not a feeling, not a wish, want, or lukewarm attachment. God is love. And such love casts out fear. I find so many Christians who live in fear, dread, and worry. God’s love casts out that fear. The only truly scary thing in life is that humanity doesn’t love nearly enough like God does. 

            I’ll tell you another little story about love. There was a small church of faithful people from several different religious backgrounds. They had all come to a tiny Christian church seeking love, somewhere they felt welcome, somewhere that challenged complacency but comforted the bruised soul. And as they came, they found more people wanted to come, but it was very different. There were people who looked differently, spoke other languages, had personal issues that made trust tougher to establish, who loved and lived life differently, who were well-versed in the world, but were still searching for something to touch the soul. 

            Every one of them came into this church from so many different places in life, so many varied backgrounds and understandings, but there was one thing they all soon noticed. Every last one of them wanted to find what I John talks about: God’s unconditional, sacrificial, and everlasting love that changes hearts, comforts souls, and reminds the broken that blessed are the poor in spirt. And even as they searched out for this love of God, they found, too, the importance of loving one another. It wasn’t easy because love is messy, vulnerable, and often in need of forgiveness. But soon that love from God spread all around, and everyone knew this incredible power—to show God’s love in how they lived, shared, and acted in their faith. 

            My friends, love is one of the most powerful things we have. It called Christ to the cross, it freed us from all that sought to destroy us. And it promises us an everlasting hope. And, I believe, John is telling us that God’s love truly can change the world. So listen to the advice of the Psalm: “Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, and write them on…your heart.” 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1138031300014847

Something More... (Part 3)

Something More than Loneliness: Ps. 23; I John 3:16-24

            When I left for college, my grandmother (not Nanna) had mixed emotions. She was happy for me, worried about me, and fearful of anything and everything. I will never forget the little pep talk which included a dire warning. Because I would be alone so much, I needed to prop a chair under the doorknob so no one would break in and kidnap me. I gently and jokingly replied that it would take 6 of them to carry me off, but she was undaunted. There was this grave fear of me, her, or anyone being alone, and the dangers and anguish found in loneliness. 

            As we continue our series on “Something More…” we confront this fear head on. Many of us have struggled through the past year. We were isolated at home. For some of us that’s not a problem because we have being alone down to a perfect art form. Yet the vast majority of us are social creatures, and this whole thing was hard—the death, the loneliness, the normality turned to daily struggle. But today we look at this idea of something more. God has something more for us than suffering in loneliness. We are reminded, over and over, that God is with us as shepherd, in the interconnectedness of love, and in Christian fellowship. 

            The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Psalm 23 gives us so many beautiful references of God as our shepherd, who is close to us when we struggle. We read that there is nothing we need, we rest in the meadows, and are led by peaceful streams. We hear how God renews our strength, guides us in right paths, and keeps us from fear in the dark valley. Psalm 23 is often used at funerals because it serves primarily as a psalm of comfort and hope. 

            The imagery of God as the Good Shepherd is something more than just comforting. It is something more than a reminder of God’s provision. It is something more than a statement of God leading us. It tells us of the presence of the shepherd in all situations, in all troubles, and in all times of life. Much of the work of a shepherd is geared towards keeping the sheep safe. Lost and lonely sheep get in to trouble. Sheep without leading and guidance will always, always find danger just as often in a herd as if they are alone. The shepherd provides a presence to protect, provide, and maintain the flock of sheep. For us it is the same. There is something more than loneliness for the Good Shepherd is with us, and we are reminded that even as goodness and mercy shall follow us, that we will live in God’s house forever. That promise is something more that the nothingness of being left alone. 

            But just as we are connected to the shepherd, we have an interconnectedness with one another through love. I John speaks to this telling us that real love is sacrificial, for Jesus gave up his life for us…so, too, we ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters. There is even an example: from those who are well off, there is a responsibility to care for and show compassion to a brother or sister in need. I John goes so far to ask of those who refuse to show compassion, “How can God’s love be in that person?” We see this cold-heartedness creep up in small ways: opposition to a sheltering place for those without heat or homes, an expectation that those who are less wealthy should not mix with those who are wealthy, race and income blaming, and the list goes on.  

            I John reminds us that we should not merely say we love one another, we should show the truth of our love by our actions. I will never forget being at a statewide event in high school. We had to introduce ourselves and talk about a project we were working on. The girl in front of me, who was from the big city and was clearly wealthy, talked about her school’s outreach into this nasty little town of rednecks where all the kids didn’t have shoes, full of inbreeding, uneducated hillbillies, and poverty. The town was Harlan, Kentucky. My hometown. And suddenly, it was my turn to pick my jaw up off the floor from being so stunned and introduce myself. I politely and warmly told them I had shoes, a good education, and planned to work on the evils of prejudice just like this, and even pointed to her in the process. The room was silent. 

            We are all interconnected with one another through God’s love for us, and our call to be ambassadors and representatives of that love, no matter who we are or what our station is in life. Sometimes we may feel alone and need a reminder of God’s presence. But sometimes we fight that connection with one another and with God, choosing to stubbornly go along our own pathways of life. I John warns us against this saying in verse 24 that “those who obey God’s commandments remain in fellowship with him, and he with them.” Following and obeying God preserves the fellowship we have both with God and with one another. 

            Being connected with one another and having fellowship are both very important to us as God’s family. Fellowship is defined as “an association of people with a common interest.” (Google Dictionary). For us, that common theme or interest is our faith in Christ. For that reason, we cannot forsake the assembling of ourselves, as Hebrews 10:25 says, “And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another.” Just as we cannot forget the love and presence of the Good Shepherd in our lives, neither can we isolate ourselves and neglect our common connectedness to one another in God as well as our fellowship with God and with one another. 

            There is an old story that often finds its way into sermons, and it’s going to do so again starting in the next sentence. A preacher went to visit a man from his flock. The man had been very faithful in coming to church, serving, and participating in activities. Yet for a couple of months, he had not been coming. The preacher went to the man’s house for a visit. As it was a cold night, the man and the preacher went over and sat down by the fire. As the fire crackled and popped, the preacher suddenly took the fireplace poker and dug around in the fire for a particular piece of coal. 

            He then pulled that coal out of the fire to the edge of the hearth and left it there. At first the coal burned bright orange, but after a minute or so, it became dark and cool to the touch. The preacher took the poker and moved the dark, isolated, and lonely piece of coal back into the fire, and immediately it began glowing brightly with the flames. At this point, the preacher stood up, and put on his hat and coat to leave. The man looked up and spoke the first words of the evening, “Nice sermon, Preacher, I’ll see you on Sunday.” 

            Friends, our faith gives us a powerful connection to God where we can say, “What a friend we have in Jesus!” But our faith also makes us connected to and accountable to and for one another. Our faith is meant to comfort us when we feel alone, but also to challenge our rugged individualism and remind us that the power of God’s early church was their togetherness as told in Acts 2. So, in the presence of the God, Our Shepherd, and in fellowship together, we can say, “What a friend we have in Jesus, and what a family of faith we have with one another. Thanks be to God.”

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/2783519238566593

Something More... Part 2

Something More than Who We Are: Ps. 4; I John 3: 1-7

            I have found that there is a bonus to wearing masks besides avoiding COVID and the flu, and that bonus is not being recognized at the grocery store. Let’s all admit it…we never look our best going to buy groceries. My friend even calls it “grocery store makeup.” It makes life easier when we can run in and run out and be incognito the whole time. The trouble is that being undercover is great for groceries but cannot apply to other parts of our lives; for instance, our faith lives. We should be recognized as children of God. I find, though, that this can be difficult. First John presents it as either/or—light or dark, good and evil. But I struggle with this because humanity just kind of “is” in many ways and not radically one or the other. 

            I have seen non-Christians choose what is good and moral. I’ve seen professed Christians choose what is very bad and evil at times. What makes a life of faith—the children of God—different? From I John we learn that it’s this redemptive work, this grace in us that compels us to act in accordance with the fact that we are God’s children. We are to be something more than who we are. We are to be like Jesus. Let’s look at a few of the very, very many ways we can recognize children of God in the world. 

            First, children of God have what we can describe as eager expectation, or hope, as a basis for their actions. I John 3:3 says, “And all who have this eager expectation will keep themselves pure just as he is pure.” Over the years I have heard various interpretations of “pure” in Biblical terms. Some have attributed it to perfection like a spotless lamb. Some have said it directly references personal, physical, and sexual purity. Some have even said it means celibacy completely. However, I think the verses before give us a better context. These verses about what we will be like when Christ appears, “but we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is,” we are told in I John 3:2. 

            Purity here, talks about the purity of our relationship to God through the redemptive work of Christ. It’s less about our personal holiness and more about the clearness of our connection to God. Christ died for us, to redeem, and to give us that closeness of relationship—not servant, sinner, wicked, or acquaintance, but child of God living in this world. The purer and clearer the path or relationship between us and Christ, the less hidden and undercover we are in the world. An old hymn speaks to this closeness saying, “Nothing between my soul and the Savior. Keep the way clear, let nothing between.” 

            For the writer of John, sin is more about those things which come between you and your relationship with Christ: failing to pray regularly, holding a grudge that keeps you from forgiveness, hating enemies. The strength of your relationship to Christ is seen through how close you are willing to be drawn to Christ—“draw me nearer, nearer, nearer blessed Lord.” James 4:8 reminds us: “Come close to God, and God will come close to you.” That is how we remain pure and live into eager expectation and hope in God, through that close relationship. 

            Because of that clear connection between us and Christ, we ought to have a right spirit and, from that spirit, do what is right. Psalm 4 tells us to “offer sacrifices in the right spirit and trust the Lord.” We are given glimpses of this right spirit as it’s found in mercy, clean reputation, joyfulness, and peace. We are particularly told to check our anger. This is, perhaps, where we find out the truth of who is living as a child of God—no hiddenness, no undercover secretiveness. Is the spirit of God living in and acting through each part of us?  

            This is what truly separates the faithful from general humanity. In life, anyone can choose to do what is good and right. We can all understand ethics and finding the moral choice in a given situation. However, without God leading and guiding, life is moral anarchy. Each individual person is left to make good or bad choices on whatever belief system they have. (And everyone may end up with a totally different belief system.) For those who follow Christ, we have a right, or righteous, spirit, and we are called by God to do what is right. There is a clear and defined basis for what is right and moral. There is a book which tells us how to live Christlike in this world, and there is a call to follow God’s leading. It’s something more than who or what we are now left to our own devices. 

            I John 3:7 reminds us, “Dear children, don’t let anyone deceive you about this: when people do what is right, it shows that they are righteous, even as Christ is righteous.” Faith does not stop at the foot of the cross. Faith goes out into the world living, serving, and showing the transforming power of God’s love. Faith, then, begins at the foot of the cross. This verse in 1 John hints as to the motivation for what we do, and why our faith is different than everyday life. We are reminded that what we do is through the righteousness of Christ. An ethical person does what is right because of their own personal ethical standards, which may change. A Christ-follower does what is right because God has called them to what is right and has called them never to stray from it. This is more than just being generally a good person—it’s a call to do what is right, just, and holy because of our Christlike love for one another. 

            I guess what I John 3 gets right to the heart of is motive. In many of the old police shows and crime mysteries, there was always talk about motive—the “why explanation” of the crime. We’ve always been curious about this: why does someone do it? I John 3 tells us we have a choice in life—to do what is right or to do what is wrong. The question we are asked is this: what is your motive for choosing what is right in this world? There can be many reasons: I’m a good person, my parents taught me, I learned it in the military or school. But here we learn that through that pure connection to Christ we are called to live as children of God in this world. That is the something more than who we are. We’re not just good people—we have a mission in faith given by a God who loves us and calls us to love and service.

            We are told to search our hearts and souls for the motivation for how we live and act. An old hymn says, “Let others see Jesus in you.” Psalm 139: 23-24 says, “Search me, O God, and know my heart.” And the great Communion text in I Corinthians 11 reminds us that we should examine ourselves before God. The Bible is filled with points telling us to understand this right spirit and to be true to the motives we are given by our saving grace from God. 

            There are many times I’m happy to be undercover and incognito. Some of you have told me stories of running the other way in the grocery store when you’re on a mission to get out quickly. But our lives as children of God should never be hidden. We are called to be something more than who we are, and despite the black eye faith sometimes gets from misguided folks, it’s still something we should be proud of. Faith begins at the foot of the cross with Christ’s redeeming work. But, there is something more. Faith must go out into the world sharing that redeeming power, that right spirit, and our call to love unconditionally and sacrificially (just like Jesus) with the whole world. We are always near the cross, but always ready to take that cross with us in and for a world filled with people whom God loves.  

Service Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/768024883854774

Something More (Part 1)

Something Beyond Our Understanding: Ps. 133; I John 1:1-2:2

            One of my favorite types of books to read is suspense/mystery novels. I have always loved a good mystery. When I was young it was the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, as I got older it was Agatha Christie, then all sorts of others. And I can assure you it’s an inherited family trait. I’m willing to bet some of you like a good mystery too. You might have grown up with Scooby Doo or read mystery books as well. Or you may like a good old suspense movie trying to figure out “who done it?” Part of the attraction of a mystery is that “what’s next” feeling…the something more is going to happen with every turn of the page. 

            The Bible and our faith are often like that. We see in part, through a glass darkly, things are slowly and carefully revealed. As Easter Sunday concluded, we celebrated the risen Christ, but there’s a mystery…so now what? What do we do, how do we handle this good news, this faith we have? Surely, there is something more to be done, right? Our Easter series is designed to help you with just that question, surely there’s something more. Today we look at some things perhaps beyond our understanding, and we cover three mysteries: the mystery of how we live with God, the mystery of how we handle the weight on our soul, and the mystery of how we live together. This sermon is a little back to the basics, but sometimes it’s good to re-read the book even if we know the end of the mystery already. 

            First, we have the mystery this relationship to God. First John reminds us that “God is light, and there is no darkness in him at all.” We are told in the next verses that we must live in the light to practice the truth and to have fellowship. Many of us have woken up in the dark of night before or have found ourselves in a darkened room. The routine is pretty standard. We grope around, move slowly, usually stub a toe or bump a knee. We do this for a few seconds until we can get to the nearest light. Our rush is to get to the light and turn it on because we feel safer in the light. We’re less vulnerable in the light. Instinctively we look for the light to help us find the way around the darkened room. 

            Choosing to do something in a hidden way or under the cover of night implies that what is being done is wrong, and the person knows it. There are many things we do in secret or hide away. I’ll never forget a dinner with a Baptist minister and friend who ordered a glass of wine. Suddenly he grabbed it and hid it under the table. One of his members was in the restaurant, and he didn’t want to be seen having a glass of wine as a good Baptist preacher. Live in the light. Just because bad things get hidden doesn’t make them any less wrong for us or trouble-making for others. The mystery of relating to light of God is that God already knows—you can’t hide—so you may as well be open and honest so that truth, understanding, and healing can take place. 

            That brings us to another mystery—so we have a few things hidden—how do we handle this coming into the light stuff? There really is no wiggle room, unfortunately. First John tells us in verse 9, “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all wickedness.” The best way to be honest with God (and ourselves for that matter) is simply to confess what we are feeling or may have done. 

            Sometimes we struggle with this level of honesty. We can be angry with God, feel like God has abandoned us, feel so very confused by what God is doing. Sometimes the very thoughts and feelings within us are truly a mystery. “Why God? Why me? Why this? Why now?” We ask over and over these questions that give us pain, but still create this confusion or even guilt for questioning, struggling, doubting. God knows. Confess those struggles and feelings to God and find either peace for the suffering or forgiveness to repair the strained relationship. God is faithful and just in all things and in all ways. 

            Confess to God whether it be things hidden away, the pain, the struggles, all those repressed angry thoughts. God knows, and God can handle your openness and honesty. I remember a scene in the move The Apostle where the main character is hollering and carrying on late at night. When a neighbor calls over, his elderly mother says, “Ever since he was a young child, sometimes he talks to the Lord, and sometimes he yells at the Lord, tonight he’s yelling at the Lord.” The worst thing we can do is wander in the darkness of believing that we can hide something from God. We can hide from others, but God knows it all already. The mystery is simple, confess honestly and with a heart ready to receive whatever is needed from God. 

            Lastly is this mystery of harmony with one another. Psalm 133 tells us, “How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.” Harmony is further described as “precious” and “refreshing.” I think we could all say that in our polarized and divisive society, a little harmony would be refreshing. I’ve heard harmony described as grace’s bank account (not the grace we get from God, but the grace we give to one another). Some days we will receive deposits because we need a little more grace in our lives when life is rough and so is our attitude. Sometimes we will have debits because those around us need a little grace in their lives when they go through the rough patches. 

            The truth is, no matter how difficult we can be, God is always willing to give us grace no matter how much we need in a given time, and there are days we need a lot of forgiving grace that comes with our saving grace. Since God is so generous, we cannot be stingy with others, for we are told that living in harmony is precious, wonderful, and pleasant. There is no real mystery to living in harmony. It is simply offering love and grace like Jesus—to be compassionate rather than reactive, loving rather than harsh, and gentle rather than pointed. 

            I think, from time to time we all love a good mystery. There are many things about faith that are a mystery to me and probably to you as well. I know that the Holy Spirit exists, but I don’t know how to humanly explain exactly what that is. I know that Jesus loved and sacrificed for you and me, but I don’t understand all the innerworkings of redemption. Sometimes the mysteries leave us hanging until we get to part two, and that’s okay. Just because some of faith is still a mystery doesn’t undo the whole of faith. God has shown us some truth in the Bible, and one day, we are promised to finally know it all. 

            What is not a mystery is that we must live in the light of God, for nothing can be hidden or secreted away from the Lord. May we be open, honest, confess our struggles to the one who hears us, gives us grace, and gives us strength. Just as there’s a plot twist in every chapter of the book, so, too, does each new day give us something more from God.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/307694054033215/?notif_id=1618153316876353&notif_t=page_post_reaction&ref=notif

This Faith Is Ours--Final

Our Savior: Isaiah 25: 6-9; Mark 16: 1-8

            The other morning, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. New and brighter lights had just been installed, and I could see myself far more clearly in the mirror than I ever wanted to. I began to take stock. I’m getting a lot of gray hair. Whether you can see it or not, my barber gently said it’s time to make a decision whether to let it go or start blending the color. So, trust me, it’s there. I looked at the dark circles under my eyes. I looked at the few little skin tags on my neck and my one crooked tooth. And now I have these little spots, little places on my face that eventually will have to be removed. I stood there, looking at myself in the brightly lit mirror and thought, “Wow, Will, it’s getting bad.” 

            I think we all do the same thing, whether we want to admit it or not. We look over our lives and think, “When did I start needing a nap every day?” We wonder where those wrinkles came from. We can remember when going to the doctor was once or twice a year instead of once or twice a week. A teacher friend of mine wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when a student turned in a paper that began, “In the late 1900s…” She quickly realized they meant the 1990s. There are all these things in our lives that make us feel…shall we say…old and decrepit? Maybe we could even say depressing?

            All too often we focus ourselves squarely and only on the mess. We complain about being too overweight, too old, too unattractive, too boring, too mentally fractured, and in so many ways too broken. Human nature tends towards this focus on the negative, and we are no exception—I have listened to you, oh yes, I have heard you talk quite frequently about the negative things of life and all the ways we’re getting old. The disciples were no exception, either, when it came to negativity. Jesus was dead, crucified, wickedness had won. Their leader, their hope, their Rabbi was dead and buried with a giant stone blocking all access. They were afraid. They were broken and messy. Humankind very often finds itself living in the broken and messy. 

            But into all of that, a miracle occurred—a resurrection—and the Savior lives. The angel said to the women in the Gospel, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead!” And into that place of life and resurrection, we find ourselves. We may see the decrepit, feel the slowness of death creeping in, but just as the Holy One was resurrected, we too shall be saved. Together, we wrote short explanations of what “saved” means to us. Some of you wrote a sentence or two. Some of you sent me several paragraphs, and at least one sent me chapter and volume in a three-ring binder which I am continuing to read. 

            One of you talked about being saved as a process, one where we draw closer to God each day until we see our God face to face. There were other things said and written: being saved eases the sting of grief, being saved speaks life into the place where death and Hell once reigned for us, being saved is more than just words—it means truly walking in this new life with God, being saved means finding a home with Jesus where you are saved, loved, and welcomed just as you are, being saved means living for Jesus instead of under the burdens of others, being saved means a relationship, hope, eternal life, living in the shadow of the cross but seeing the glory waiting on the other side. 

            All of these speak to Jesus’s ability to speak hope and wholeness, sweetly and softly, into those places where we are messy, broken, or feel a little more decayed than usual. Isaiah speaks also to this idea of restoration, saying, “Then he will remove the cloud of gloom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth. He will swallow up death forever!” And then we get this powerful statement of trust and commitment: “In that day the people will proclaim, ‘This is our God! We trusted in him, and he saved us! Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings!” 

            There is good foundation throughout the scripture to believe in this level of hope and restoration…of this saving. II Corinthians 4:16 reminds us, “Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.” I used to chalk that up to some theological talk by Paul that seems rather comforting at funerals, but these days those words speak a bit more to the soul. We look in the mirror and see what’s wrong—whether it’s the bumps on your face, the gray in your hair, for me personally at one time the Crisco needed to grease me up and squeeze my pants on and buttoned, or all the life drama we face. But in our individual spirits, we can feel God speaking, renewing, giving us strength, teaching us. It’s that feeling of one’s soul being renewed and strengthened despite the growing level of decrepit on and about us. 

            It brings us to a place of peace in our lives. As one of you wrote, saved means “to gaze out my window to see the beauty God has created. To close my eyes and feel it too. To have the freedom of knowing no matter what comes, I am being held tenderly in Jesus’s loving arms.” We see messiness and brokenness; Jesus sees the one he loves and died for. We look on the negative, the faults, the failures; Jesus looks at the holy calling given to you. We look at the difficulties and struggles; Jesus looks at his own resurrection and the promised hope for you and for me. And somehow, some way, out of all that messiness comes this beauty of us that God has created, redeemed, and called his very own. 

            Easter is about the redemption God is giving today and the hope for tomorrow that Jesus’s death and resurrection will bring. Tomorrow morning, we will likely all stand again in front of the mirror…on a Monday no less. Each blemish, each problem, each age spot, lump, bump, and wrinkle will start to weigh on our mind. Each broken place in our lives, each mess we’ve made, and each problem we are sorting through will also come to mind (though usually that’s at night when you’re trying to sleep). And I hope in that moment, as those thoughts invade, that you will remember the words of that song we heard minutes ago: “Something beautiful, something good, all my confusion he understood. All I had to offer him was brokenness and strife, but he made something beautiful of my life.” So after we say the benediction, go home and look in the mirror, and see the one whom God loves, whom God redeemed, and whom God has given hope because our Savior lives.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/264779475306888

This Faith Is Ours--Part 6

Our Cornerstone: Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-22; Mark 11: 1-11

            In construction and building terms, a cornerstone is the first and primary block of the foundation set in the ground which determines the positioning of all the other stones and indeed the structure itself. For us, as Christians, Jesus is that cornerstone on which our faith is built, our lives are patterned, and our understanding comes from. This Palm Sunday we continue our series, This Faith Is Ours, by looking at Jesus as the cornerstone of our faith. But in doing that we are going to look at the triumphal entry in a new and different way, and how this can change our views on the ways in which we follow Jesus. 

            In our Gospel lesson for today we Jesus in his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. This is the prelude to all that would happen in the crucifixion and resurrection. This is where the stage was set for the plot to kill him to build momentum. Here we see Jesus borrow a young donkey and use it to ride through the Golden Gate (or Eastern Gate) into the city of Jerusalem. He rode in to praise and triumph through the outlying cities of Bethany and Bethphage, a few miles outside of Jerusalem.              

            Typically, we have talked about the triumphal entry as part of a foreshadowing of Jesus’s return in glory—once he rode to Jerusalem humbly on a donkey, but then will be coming King of Glory. However, a deeper look at this scripture and the setting shows a deeply rebellious political message directly at Rome and the religious leaders of Jesus’s day. Here’s a little backstory. Every year, the Roman governor of Judea would ride up into the city to be present at Passover. During Passover, the population of Jerusalem would swell from 50,000 to over 200,000 with Jewish pilgrims from all over coming to the city. 

            New Testament scholars give a strong description of all the pomp and pageantry as the Roman governor paraded in all his glory through the streets of Jerusalem to remind them that Rome was in charge lest anyone dare try to start a rebellion fueled by the religious fervor of Passover. Rome was all-powerful to them, the oppressor, and Caesar was declared to be a deity in and of himself. Rome, through a powerful parade, made sure that no local yokels in the outer regions of the empire would challenge this claim to power. 

            Thus, you see, Jesus, as a poor son of a carpenter with a ragtag following, was the furthest thing from a powerful emperor you could get. Just imagine how shocking it was to see this teacher on a dumpy little donkey parading into town on a carpet of palm branches and tunics. Make no mistake about it, Jesus triumphal entry was no parade—it was a rebellious protest against the oppression of Rome, and it shocked the people, firing up their rebellious nature. It was a mockery of the Roman parade likely happening close to the same time. 

            Jesus, once rejected as wrong and unconventional, became the cornerstone for those who were suffering and oppressed under Rome and the religious authorities who found Rome’s power all too convenient for preserving their own power. Perhaps this is what caused most of the trouble? The people saw Jesus’s defiant act against Rome and against the Pharisees with all their oppression. They expected this Son of David, who was the true and legitimate heir to the throne, to return and lead Israel to its historic glory. Jesus now stood in a fighting position of open rebellion—the cornerstone—ready to build his kingdom brick by brick. 

            But that didn’t happen. Instead of a powerful king, they found a humble teacher and a loving savior. The people wanted a political solution of power and might, but Jesus offered a pathway of grace, redemption, and humility. The people loved the protest, but they weren’t very fond of the truth of Jesus’s kingdom. Jesus didn’t come to establish a kingdom of this world. We are told to be in the world but not of the world, as God’s kingdom is here in the world (in us) but still not a kingdom of this world. Jesus came to flip tables, to protest Rome in the streets of Jerusalem, and to call the Pharisees a brood of vipers. He laid the cornerstone of the kingdom of God, but the rest of the building proved to be much harder for people.  

            Even as they thought Jesus was ready to fight, he proclaimed instead that we should be peacemakers. He proclaimed that we should love our neighbors. He proclaimed that we should turn the other cheek when it comes to a fight with our enemies. Those things are all well and good, yet the people were ready for a fight first, then all that other stuff Jesus said later. But Jesus had a different kind of kingdom in mind—a kingdom that is still hard for us today.

            Jesus shared what he had with all, and in fact, the first church in Acts 2 sold all its possessions and cared for everyone equally from rich to poor. Jesus healed on the Sabbath, interacted with people considered unclean, stood up for the prostitute and the tax collector (and in turn offered them redemption). He proclaimed we should treat the least of these with same dignity as the best of all. Paul extends these teachings to say, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus,” in Galatians 3:28. Even more difficult, when Peter drew his sword to start the fight and defend Jesus at the scene of Jesus’s betrayal, Jesus replied, “Put away your sword…those who use the sword will die by the sword.” (Matt. 26:52, NIV). Jesus’s teachings were difficult. Imagine if Jesus stood in the pulpits of America today in the wake of our killing and violence and said, “Get rid of your gun, for all who use the gun will die by the gun.” Or if Jesus preached publicly against Roman oppression and the rights of the minority people of Judea to vote and speak their mind? The Jesus they wanted in Jerusalem was not the Jesus they got. 

            The same is true today: laying the cornerstone of belief in Christ is easy, building the rest of the house can be very difficult work. Showing up to the exciting protest on Palm Sunday is easy, embracing what Jesus taught was much harder. For us, believing in Jesus as the Savior of all is easy, but actually following him gets really difficult. And yet Jesus is still the cornerstone on which we build. Jesus knew that the people around Jerusalem would shout hosannah one week. He also knew that just a short time later they would say, “This isn’t what we signed up for. Kill him.” But still Jesus rode on in majesty as a sacrifice, as an example, as the cornerstone of our faith and hope. 

            Jesus rode to Jerusalem on a donkey in humble protest of the evils of Rome and the Pharisees in the temple. But then he taught the people about this kingdom, God’s kingdom, where love transforms, where souls are saved, where war and violence are over, and where enemies find ways to turn the other cheek and love one another. In our day and time, which is just as faulty as Ancient Rome, we must commit not just to believing in Jesus but to following him as well. So set your faith firmly in the Cornerstone, the Rock of Ages, who has the power transform all that is bad into grace, then. like Jesus, ride on ride on in majesty for in following him, we will never lose our way. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/500740597969577             

This Faith Is Ours--Part 5

Our Comfort: Jeremiah 31: 31-34; Hebrews 5: 5-10

A few years ago, I visited an elderly friend whose adult child had just died. As I was sitting in her living room, she posed an emotionally charged question: “Why did both of my children die before me, and here I am as a 90-year-old woman, left to suffer. Why?” There are few times in my life given my legal training and my pastoral training that I have had no answer to give. This was one of the worst. For agonizing minutes, I sat in silence. There was nothing I could say, and nothing that came to mind. I could only quietly offer, “I don’t know.” 

A few days later I was able to collect my thoughts and write a short letter in response. What I told her was this: I don’t know why you have to suffer and endure the death of both of your children. It is cruel, unfathomable, and shakes a person’s faith to the core. But what I know is this. God, too, had to watch his only son suffer and die. Though God knew Jesus would rise from the dead, be perfectly made whole, and returned to heaven, none of that softened the heart-wrenching misery of watching his son die on the cross. Though there may never be an understanding in this life of the suffering you are going through, you do not go through it alone. Our God will be with you to comfort you.

Friends, as we travel through this Lenten series on This Faith Is Ours, we look today at one of the tougher aspects of faith: knowing our God in the role of comforter. One of the very basic principles we start out with is the idea that God is not all that far away from us. Unlike the days of the Old Testament, we don’t have to approach God through a ritual sacrifice or a high priest. Jeremiah talks about a new promise God makes: “But this…new covenant I will make with the people of Israel. I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.” These powerful words echo those of Ruth who promised Naomi that “your God will be my God and your people my people.” That promise was backed by a powerful resolve. 

The power in that promise from God is that we will know God. Now, theologically, we know that this means Christ is with us, and the Holy Spirit dwells with us to be this presence of God, “Immanuel, God with us.” As opposed to a god who is far off, unknown, and unreachable, God is known and with us—always. Christ loves us, suffered for us, and has left the power of the Spirit with us in his stead. There is something inherently comforting about this basic theology which tells us how God knows us, and how we can know and approach God in times of need. 

But in Hebrews 5 we see another aspect of Jesus which truly makes Jesus real and human for us. Beginning around verse 7, “When Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death. And God heard his prayers because of his deep reverence for God.” Now verse 8 reminds us that Jesus still had to suffer, but there’s a very powerful word in that verse—God heard his son’s prayer and pleas.

Now at this point, you may ask what, exactly, is the point of all this? Jesus prayed in earnest to God in his time of crushing pain and need. God heard Jesus. And yet, Jesus still suffers. What changed? What was the point if Jesus still suffered? The answer is found, not in blanket deliverance, but in the comfort, the resolve, and the strength God gave Jesus. When Jesus finishes his prayers in the garden on that dark night, he goes with the guards on the path that would ultimately lead to the cross with resolve, in strength, unflinching, and undeterred from his horrific task. Jesus didn’t find deliverance from his situation in his prayers, but instead, he found God’s deliverance from the dread through God’s strength and God’s comfort to continue forward in power, in strength, and without ever looking back on his final journey to the cross.

We need to find this comfort and resolve from God in our lives, lest we become overwhelmed by the darkness we see in this world. Jesus was killed by the warped and twisted beliefs of the Pharisees and religious leaders conspiring with the state to have Jesus executed. There are times and days where it seems like little has improved with regard to the depth of grief and sorrow we live with and the twistedness that allows people to see human life as so easily destroyed. This has been yet another week of collective grief. 

A gunman shot and killed several people in Atlanta, primarily in the Asian community. He’s charged with 8 counts of murder. There is debate whether it’s his due to his addictions, a hate crime, or something in between, or all of the above. Whatever hatred existed in his heart for others, we still are left to collectively grieve for the lives lost and for this continuing struggle to understand why people care so little about the lives of others. Their families grieve, their communities grieve, we all find sorrow in the fact that over and over we deal with pain and death or skirt by the valley of the shadow of death. 

This, I think shows the symptom of our closeness to grief. One of my good friends is Asian-American, and he often goes to dinner at a ramen noodle restaurant in that area of Atlanta after work. When I heard the bare minimum of a killing spree targeting Asians in Atlanta, I spent the next few minutes with a sick feeling knotted in my stomach until I had texted and knew he was okay. But we all live in this anxious place. Much like we read about the valley of the shadow of death in Psalm 23, we also live in the shadow of grief and sorrow. 

How do I know this? Here’s an example. Let’s say your loved one is coming to visit, and they are running 15-20 minutes late. Do you first think, “Eh, it’s traffic,” or do you begin to get that same knot or sick feeling in your stomach? Usually, we begin to check our phone, worry, call them, and as the minutes go on, we fly all the way off the handle and assume they’re dead in a car accident or some other horrible thing. That, my friends, is living in grief and sorrow’s shadow, where in every situation, we expect the worst tragedy to occur. 

            When that shadow appears, we must, then, face grief and sorrow head-on knowing that God will abide with us. Francis Henry Lyte wrote the hymn, “Abide With Me” just a few weeks before his death. He knew the end was near as tuberculosis was overtaking his strength. The hymn is subtle, quiet, but packed with this strong resolve we see in Christ himself. Lyte writes, “I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight and tears no bitterness. Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph, still, if Thou abide with me.” So always remember in every struggle, grief, and sorrow you go through, God is there grieving with you, holding you steady in the pain, and offering a presence to comfort; “In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.” 

Worship Plan: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/863970570841156