Easter Sunday 2022

“Why?” Easter 2022: Isaiah 65: 17-25; John 20: 1-18

            So, in confession, there was more to the title of this sermon than just “why?” However, as I was typing for the bulletins, I got distracted and forgot to add the rest of the title. Then I forgot what the rest of the title was actually supposed to be. And now, here we are. Why? To some degree, it’s a bit of a fair question these days. Why this journey, why this experience, why am I sitting here? Most of the unanswered questions in our lives involve…why? Most of the time we ask these questions about where the future will lead, and what the journey will be like. Sometimes we ask why we so often feel like we journey alone in this life. I’m sure many of us feel have those moments when we feel misunderstood, unseen, and alone. 

            The band Green Day, which half of you can’t believe I’m referencing and the other half of you probably don’t know and definitely wouldn’t like, has a song titled “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” A line from it says, “I walk a lonely road, the only one that I’ve ever known. Don’t know where it goes, but it’s home to me, and I walk alone.” Laying aside that it’s angsty millennial rock music, those words, I think speak to us, this feeling that we are often alone on life’s journey. 

            Many of us feel alone in life even if we have friends or a network of people. We call it feeling unseen in the midst of a crowd. We may have hit the age where there are too many funerals. We may have found many folks we thought were our friends were users and not companions. We may have life changes and developments which seem a very personal to our journey and others simply don’t get it. Or we may actually be very much alone in life. 

            It’s a familiar and often stress-filled and painful place for many. I remember counseling someone who had lost their spouse. They told me that they would wander the aisles of the Wal-Mart and Target to avoid going home to an empty house, all alone. We heard that hymn on Good Friday, “Jesus walked this lonesome valley. He had to walk it by himself; O nobody else could walk it for him. He had to walk it by himself.” A friend of mine recently posted an article on Facebook which said that the church’s response to the pandemic and social upheaval of the past few years make her feel like she’s lost her faith, the church, and religion she called home. We are no strangers to loneliness and walking a lonely road in life. 

            Good Friday was a time where fear, sadness, and loneliness came and dwelt with Jesus and the disciples. Jesus walked to Calvary by himself, abandoned and betrayed. The disciples locked themselves into a room in fear and feeling alone without Jesus to lead them. Why? They didn’t really understand that the suffering, the anguish they felt in their soles was temporary, but the hope Christ gives us is never-ending. Jesus had the power over death. Jesus had the power to appear in the upper room with the disciples. And Jesus gave them the Spirit to ensure they would never, ever be alone in this life. 

            The journey for Jesus was lonely, but we are promised that we are never alone when we have faith in God. When the followers fell asleep as Jesus prayed earnestly in the garden, he still prayed with them. When Jesus was betrayed, he was calm and gentle with all of them, loving and forgiving. When they abandoned Jesus, denied him, cowered in fear lacking all faith to believe his Word and his promises, he still loved them and gave everything he had to bring them closer to him and love them more and more. As the hymn says, “And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.” The days may seem dark, and we may feel alone, but through it all and in it all God still walks with us and never leaves us. As a pastor friend said, “If God cared enough to create us, then God loves us enough to see us through.” 

            Isaiah’s prophetic words speak to this promise, saying in verse 19, “I will rejoice over Jerusalem and delight in my people. And the sound of weeping and crying will be heard in it no more. You see, God has promised, in the miracle of resurrection that hope outweighs the suffering of this life. It’s hard to see when you’re going through the suffering, but that doesn’t take away from how grand and glorious that hope from God truly is. That hope is two-fold. It is the hope that reminds us that death is swallowed up in the victory of life in the God who loves us. But it is also the hope that in every moment of life, and in every moment of toil and struggle we face, God is with us every single moment—loving us, strengthening us, and reminding us of that unbelievable presence that walks with us. 

            When you look at the Gospel, you can feel just how alone and frightened the disciples were. Mary cries out to Jesus, whom she mistakes for the gardener, asking where they have taken him. Peter and the disciple Jesus loved run to the tomb when they hear the news. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, there’s an angel to announce the resurrection of Jesus. Here that doesn’t happen. Mary, this disciple, and Peter are left with only that stark emptiness of the tomb—this startling reality that Jesus is not only dead, he is gone. 

            But something powerful happens, something that can only come from faith. When the disciple Jesus loved arrives at the tomb, he’s hesitant to go in and encounter those empty burial linens and folded head wrapping. But then, the Gospel tells us that this disciple “went in, and he saw and believed.” The words about hope, life, and resurrection—they all made sense. This wasn’t the death, burial, and end of everything Jesus had said and taught. 

            Instead, this was a new beginning. Jesus was back to end our walk on a lonely road with a promise to be with us. And indeed, in just a short verse or two later, Jesus appears to the disciples and assures them that hope is the final word over pain, over suffering, over fear and loneliness in this life. Hope, life, and God’s love have the final word, end of story. 

            We may face days and pathways that feel lonely. With the loss of loved ones, with journeys and places in life we must face on our own, with the uncertainty we must sometimes live with, we may be facing lonely roads ahead. But though the way may seem weary and lonely, it’s not. As we begin or continue our faithful journey and those times of fear and doubt creep in, we will find Jesus, our constant companion, Savior, and friend. Then, like Mary, we can proclaim boldly, “I have seen the Lord.” 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/354734936610570

Palm Sunday 2022

Facing Reality: Isaiah 50: 4-9a; Luke 19: 18-40

            As the hymn says, “Ride on, ride on in majesty, in lowly pomp, ride on to die.” This road from triumphant entry to the suffering of the cross is one we’ve journeyed together for many years. However, now, more than ever this journey speaks to us as both a warning and a symbol of hope for a world that can yet still find itself in the power of and seeking the will of a loving Savior. 

How does this happen. Let me start with a story. I was meeting with a fellow pastor the other day for some advice. After listening to my weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, he said to me, “Will, you just need to stop overthinking it.” Okay. I smiled and pretended to be thankful. What I wanted to say is, “Ya know, if I could turn the overthinking off like water from a faucet, I wouldn’t exactly be here seeking advice, dude.” But I held my tongue, and he then offered this great bit of wisdom. He said, “Lord, deliver us from ourselves.” That one thought took deep root in my soul. Lord, deliver us from ourselves. 

In our Gospel, we see the old and familiar story of Jesus riding from the towns of Bethany and Bethphage, the home of Lazarus and a place where Jesus was loved, to Jerusalem where prophetic voices like Jesus were silenced and often with death. Jerusalem was a powder keg of power struggles, ethnic conflict between Roman, Jewish, and others who lived there, a place of oppression with a deep undercurrent of political strife, injustice, and barely controlled anger. And I know none of that seems at all relevant in this day and time. Jerusalem was only 30 years away from a full-blown conflict with Rome. 

            Into this volatile situation, Jesus rode in on the back of a donkey, hailed as the King of Kings. The people there wanted a savior, a deliverer, and a mighty king. This is what they hoped for in Jesus, but their understanding was misplaced. They wanted an earthly king, who would lead a revolt, overthrow Rome, and reestablish David’s throne and the purity of Solomon’s temple. They wanted a new King David who would smash the Roman Goliath in a miraculous way. Instead, they got this poor, humble guy on the back of a donkey, who preached about love, laying down one’s life, and a heavenly kingdom. 

Jesus came to Jerusalem not to bring down Pilate, or topple Caesar’s power, or restore the temple religion and recreate a Judean kingdom. Even Jesus’s preaching was not so fiery and tough as what you could possibly hear in the temple and Sanhedrin. Blessed are the peacemakers, love your enemy, love your neighbor, be born again of God and not of worldly things—all of this was a far cry from expectation. But it all has a common theme: O Lord, deliver us from ourselves. 

These past couple of years we’ve lost our time, our freedom, our sense of security, too many friends and family to even name, and it could be that hope seems a bit dim while grief weighs heavy. We too want Jesus to ride into our lives and suddenly make all things better, which is certainly possible, but it cannot be done when our faith is clouded by anger, grief, confusion, and the love of doubt. 

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the people shouted, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” But Jesus didn’t come to save Jerusalem from Rome. He came to save humanity, to deliver us from ourselves and from those doubts, the negativity, and those struggles which keep us in a worldly mindset instead of focusing on the hope and redemption that is Christ’s work.

I had someone ask me recently why we have to suffer so much in this world. They were struggling with the loss of a loved one and their own physical illness as well. I could sense the struggle and pain they were feeling. The truth is that there is no good answer. The best I can offer is that the faith I have meets with the faith you have, and together, God’s presence in both of us will see us through. As Isaiah 50 says, “The Sovereign Lord has given me his words of wisdom, so that I know how to comfort the weary. Morning by morning he wakens me and opens my understanding to his will. Because the Sovereign Lord helps me, I will not be disgraced…and I know that I will not be put to shame.” 

It begins when we pray, Lord, deliver us from ourselves. In the triumphant entry, Jesus comes into the city with great fanfare and celebration. The people of Bethany and Bethphage travelled with Jesus and the disciples into the heart of Jerusalem. The people of Jerusalem were overcome and ecstatic. Here was their king and deliverer. But just a few days later, they named him a fraud and called for him to be crucified with murderous rage before Pilate. 

Jesus did not come to fix the earthly existence of Jerusalem. He came to restore a broken relationship and give them the hope of eternal life with him. He came to bring faith, not a kingdom; justice, not civil war with Rome; a relationship and not a temple faith. His kingdom was not of this world and Jesus did not come to fix the political mess of Jerusalem. He came to bring life and hope and the Holy Spirit which would equip the people to fix Jerusalem, if they followed him. He came to deliver them from themselves and unto a relationship with a God who loved them and created them. 

As the hymn says, “Lord, you have come to the lakeshore, looking neither for wealthy nor wise ones. You only asked me to follow humbly.” Jesus is still calling to this day to follow humbly. It may not fix all your problems here on earth. Jesus didn’t come to make things perfect. He came to deliver us from our worldly lives and return us to God. It is a tough journey from the palms to the cross. In a world that seems to be growing in cruelty, anger, and strife, that journey to the cross seems harder and harder every year—facing that pain and that suffering. But one thing never changes. One the other side of that cross is hope and eternal life. And so, each day, I pray, “Lord, deliver us from ourselves.” Amen. 

Service Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/687550229059830

Facing Life's Worst Battles: Lent 5

Facing Hypocrisy—Isaiah 43: 16-21; John 12: 1-8

            I was talking with a new, young pastor a year or so ago. Apparently, I’ve been doing this long enough to reach the “old enough to go to for wisdom” stage. He asked me my best advice on pastoring. I VERY jokingly said, “Don’t preach against sins you frequently like to commit.” I thought it was a joke, but there was silence. I glanced at him, and with a perplexed look he said, “Then what am I supposed to preach about?” I guess there’s something to be said about honesty. Today, in our Lenten series, we look at how to face hypocrisy. 

            It’s a word that’s really overused these days. Anytime someone tells a white lie, we yell, “Hypocrite!” It is so bad that if you even forget what you said or forget to do something, you’re in danger of being labelled a hypocrite. But in its truest sense, hypocrisy is the practice of claiming to have, or imposing on others, moral standards or beliefs which you do not actually follow. Perhaps a clearer definition is a person who preaches loudly and angry about sins and behaviors they secretly love to do. Here's an example: a person who preaches with gusto against the evils of gluttony, then goes and utterly wipes out the Sunday brunch buffet. I joke. Somewhat. 

            Many have alleged that Judas’s great sin was betrayal, greed, or something else, but the truth is, hypocrisy was his undoing. At the dinner setting of today’s Gospel, we see Martha serving Jesus and the disciples while Mary anoints Jesus with an expensive perfume, and if ever you are asked in trivia, the perfume is called spikenard. Judas then takes Mary to task on the pouring out of the perfume telling her the money it brought in could be used for the poor. 

            Judas, though, is a hypocrite. He cares nothing for the poor. He cares nothing for Jesus, for Mary, or for any of these people. The man literally saw Jesus call Lazarus back from the dead shortly before this, and it has not softened the frosty callousness of his heart, not even one tiny bit. A thief and a cheat, he still talked the right disciple talk for following Jesus, even though his life and his actions spoke otherwise. 

            Hall of Fame football coach, Wes Fesler, said, “Hypocrisy is the audacity to preach integrity from a den of corruption.” This was Judas. He had heard all the right words of Jesus and learned all the right things. He knew exactly what he needed to say in the right situation. But his life never reflected the holiness and faith found in the empty words he spoke. Likely Judas wanted the perfume sold and the money added to the change purse for the disciples, so that he could steal it. It was this conniving, cunning, and hypocritic spirit which would be his undoing. 

            Hypocrites are often found near to the brokenhearted and the vulnerable because hypocrisy loves to take advantage of brokenness and vulnerability. Look where you find hypocrisy the most: religion and/or politics—both places where one tends to find brokenness and vulnerability. 

            In 2006 an Evangelical megachurch pastor, who had viciously preached against LGBT community and against drugs, was outed by the man whom he was paying for sex and drugs, specifically meth. The man who exposed him said he had to stop the hypocrisy. I need not give you the dozens, if not hundreds, of examples of hypocrisy that exist in the world of politics. It reminds me of the old saying, “If you talk the talk, then walk the walk.” We will all do wrong and behave badly from time to time, but we can be honest, open, and repentant and not live our lives like a confederacy of Judases. 

            We also see Jesus’s pointed response. He tells Judas to leave Mary alone. She was vulnerable in this moment. She had just experienced the death of her brother Lazarus only to be astounded by the miracle of Jesus raising him from the dead. I am sure both she and Martha were still delirious from all the events. Then here comes Judas trying to manipulate and take advantage of the situation by getting money out of Mary instead of seeing her faithful and holy intent. Jesus says, “You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.” Don’t try too hard to figure this out. He’s talking to Judas. Soon Judas would betray Jesus, and he would no longer have Jesus with him, at all. 

            Hypocrisy demands that we give up pieces of faith and our relationship with Jesus until it is gone. It chips away at the foundation of faith we have built. Hypocrisy is one of the most difficult sins to overcome because any note of repentance rings hollow. No matter what one does, those watching will lack the trust to believe that a true change has happened. It is exactly this exploitation of vulnerability and trust which makes hypocrisy so dangerous. 

            What can we do? Isaiah 43 is a wise response. God has to completely make something new and different. Verse 19 says, “I am about to do something new,” pathways through the wilderness, rivers in the dry wasteland, something to refresh the people completely and fully. Unlike other struggles, which can be overcome, hypocrisy lacks in trust, in truth, and in hope. Too often the hypocrite will minimize or justify bad behavior over and over even after saying he or she is spiritually healed. Hypocrisy and betrayal brought Judas to his death, which was lonely, painful, and filled with suffering. 

            But we must also remember that hypocrisy killed Jesus. Not Jesus’s of course, but the hypocrisy of the people who praised him then called for his crucifixion shortly thereafter. Unlike Judas, whose hypocrisy led to a miserable death, the hypocrisy which killed Jesus on a cross was followed with resurrection and new life. God has done something new, as Isaiah says, in this resurrection. 

Hypocrisy is alive and well these days in our churches, in families, and in always in our politics. It’s a road that leads to pain, suffering, and death, for hypocrisy of some kind killed both Judas and Jesus. The question the is this: will we let our own hypocrisy or the hypocrites in our lives be the death of us, or will we find hope and resurrection despite the struggles? The answer is found in Christ and the hope of new life: as the hymn says, “My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art thou. If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ‘tis now.” 

Online Service: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/549236389799541

Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 4

Facing Rejection: Psalm 32: 1-5; Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

            One of the hardest things we deal with in life is rejection. We see the little boy on the playground holding a daisy he just plucked up from the wildflowers nearby and holding it out to the little girl. But she replies with, “Eww, cooties!” and runs away. We see the woman in middle age who has learned her husband and partner of many years has been unfaithful and broken the marriage trust, and now their years of investment together are no more. She feels rejected and tossed aside. We see an elder, filled with wisdom, love, and a desire to connect with others, sitting alone in a care facility wondering if all her family and friends have rejected her and left her to a lonely demise. 

            Rejection is hard, painful, and filled with years of trying to reconcile the bitterness. This parable of Jesus speaks to rejection. It’s one of Jesus’s most versatile parables—usable in so many situations and places of life for understanding and guidance. But one theme that resonates throughout is a family facing rejection, and how they processed through it. A son rejects a father. A father overcomes rejection. A brother feels rejected by the father, and all must learn where to go from here. What does Jesus, in this parable, teach us about facing rejection? 

            Jesus begins the parable with a rather whiny and spoiled child, perhaps a young man, but still a child, asking his father for his inheritance, so he could leave the family. This was a tremendous insult in ancient times. One did not humiliate and insult a father like this. The son is not only rejecting his father, but he is also rejecting his entire family and all that he has been taught and raised with. In many ways this could be seen as both a rejection and a betrayal. 

            Knowing his son would have to learn the hard way, the father divides his estate and gives the son his allotted share. Rejection and betrayal, however, often lead to loneliness and alienation. The son squandered all he had and ended up broke, starving, and alone. He was forced to work with pigs which made him unclean and untouchable according to the customs and faith. And yet, while we so often focus on the suffering of the prodigal child, let’s not forget that the father’s heart broke every single day over and over while his son was gone…worrying, praying, hoping one day the rejection and separation would be over. 

            For his part, the father is amazing in this parable. His exploitive, dirty, cruel, and wasteful son comes crawling back begging only to be a hired servant, knowing he is unworthy of any more based on his hostile and hateful treatment of his father. Expecting the worst and having learned his lesson, the son goes home. But his father welcomes him with open arms—with love, forgiveness, and the biggest, happiest party he can put together. His father’s exact words were, “He once was lost but now is found.” The son is no longer full of his anger and rejection, and the father’s broken heart is mended. 

            But there’s still a bit of rejection to deal with in this family. The older brother, who has faithfully served and worked with the father, feels rejected, unappreciated, stuck in a thankless place while his messy brother gets a party simply for showing up after a long walk on the wicked side. He’s mad. He addresses his father hatefully, refusing to say the customary greeting of “Father,” and filled with anger and pain at feeling rejected by the father. The father tries to calm him down with a gentle address. “Son…” he begins softly. He then reminds his older son that everything is his. His years of service and dedication will pay off not in a short party, but in receiving literally everything. The parable ends, and we aren’t told the older son’s reaction. 

            What do we do when we feel rejected, unwanted, and even alone in this world? We go back home. For some of us, home is a place. For others, home is the presence or memory of a person we love. For some of us, home is where we feel ourselves in the presence of God, for we are always at home with God. We also must live in grace and not in anger. Consider the reaction of the father. He could have angrily cast the son back out. He could have accepted the offer and made his son a servant. But this was his son, and he loved his son. When we love someone, we find a way to both hold them accountable and give them grace. For the son, accountability was letting him go and fail. He learned his lesson, and he learned it with hard consequences. When his father dies, he receives nothing, and he will either have to find work elsewhere or pray that his brother is more forgiving. 

            That welcome home, that grace which reconciles and reconnects has to be based on accountability and repentance. Letting an unchanged betrayer or rejecter back into your life is not grace…it’s foolishness. They don’t learn and grow, and you aren’t safe. If the son had come back still filled with pride and demands, the father would have been right to say no to him. Jesus often said, “Go and sin no more.” He said, “You must be born again.” He called upon repentance and a new way before people could be reconciled. It’s a fair and right request. A person who has wronged us must change before we let them back into our lives. 

            If you are the prodigal son, remember that there is love and forgiveness with the father. God’s grace is welcoming, restorative, and healing to a deeply wounded soul. If you are the older brother, remember that a welcome home for the lost one doesn’t undo all the good and all the strength you have lived with. All that the father has is yours, and God will be generous and merciful unto you. But be like the father in life. When his problematic son came home, humbled, grown up, wiser, and completely broken by the world he chose to live in, his father welcomed him with love and open arms. 

            Facing rejection in life is hard. It brings us to a place of deep and bitter sadness. It leaves families, lives, and relationships broken in a way that may never be the same. But we believe in a God of lavish welcome, a God who heals brokenness, and a God who can give rest for weary souls. When rejection becomes the narrative of life, God is still the author of grace which redeems, restores, and makes whole the broken places we live in. So go home, and find new life and new healing in God’s loving grace. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/5207007689363865

Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 3

Facing Stubbornness: Isaiah 55: 1-9; Luke 13: 6-9

            In school we were required to read the book The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The book explored the struggle of a man named Dr. Jekyll who created a serum which transformed him into this horrible person, Mr. Hyde, who was fueled only by his carnal desires and meanness. The great discovery in the book is that it is not two people, but one who changes back and forth from the good to the bad. The book has even spawned a saying where we call someone a “Jekyll and Hyde” to say they have an unpredictably dual nature—outwardly good, but sometimes shockingly evil. 

            Stubbornness is much this same way. It’s dual in nature. There are times stubbornness can cause us real and severe problems. But there’s sometimes that we can be just stubborn enough to be saved from times of trial and trouble. In its bad form, stubbornness leads us down a road to hardheartedness. But in its good and useful form, stubbornness leads us to strong resilience. The question is who’s driving the stubborn bus that we’re on, us or God? 

            When we are stubborn, we can sometimes become hardhearted. Stubbornness may be defined as a determined refusal to change one’s position even if good arguments are presented to us. We read in our Gospel lesson that Jesus told a parable to the people. In this parable, he is giving them a talking to. He told them about a fig tree which was a constant disappointment. Year after year, it stubbornly refused to produce anything. After three years of enduring stubbornness by the tree, the man has decided it’s time for it to go. It will be cut down and done away with.

            Jesus was tired of the stubbornness of the people who continued to be spiritually immature. Just prior to this parable, there was some conversation that if bad things happen to people, it’s because of their sin. Jesus says no to this stubborn old, and sometimes cruel, belief. It is time to put this old, stubborn, and hardhearted notion to rest once and for all. If someone endures suffering in this life, it does not mean they are a sinner and being punished. You don’t tell a lie and get a hurricane. You don’t cheat on your taxes and cause a pandemic. God does not send a boil on your bum for each swear word you say. That’s petty; that’s not God. 

            Instead, we have to live with the consequences which stem from our willful refusal to follow God, our stubbornness in this life. God may not orchestrate a sickness upon us, but if we don’t practice safety, we will get sick and maybe face dire outcomes. God may not send the boil, but if you don’t treat it, you get sepsis. In the same way, a stubborn refusal to seek and follow Christ will lead us to a hardhearted place where we find the Mr. Hyde of the story. Stubbornness is expensive, and it costs us whatever joy, hope, or salvation is found in the good news we reject. Think of the suffering Pharaoh and his people endured only because he was stubborn and hardened his heart to God. Stubbornness which leads us down the hardhearted road will surely lead us to produce no good fruit and leave us following paths that lead us away from God’s grace. 

            But there is some good which can come from being a bit stubborn, and that is found when we use our stubbornness to create strength and resilience. In Isaiah, God is calling the people through the prophet to return to God’s wisdom. Verse 2 says, “Listen to me, and you will eat what is good. You will enjoy the finest food.” If the people but turn their hearts to God, then God will make an everlasting covenant just as existed with King David. However, God says the people must listen to God’s wise counsel. 

            Our fig tree is much the same. The gardener intervened into the destructive intent of the owner. He offers to give the fig tree special attention and nurture it with plenty of fertilizer. The hope is that the tree can be turned from barren waste to a tree full of strong resilience and good fruit. When I think of a good sense of stubbornness I’m think immediately to the Ukrainian people and President Zelenskyy, all of whom have stayed in the country and vowed to fight the evil stubbornness and devastation which has been unleashed upon them. 

            God needs stubborn people—people who know how to be strong in hard times, who have the courage to speak truth, love with compassion, and live in God’s justice and mercy. I often say stubbornness is what saved this church years ago. There was a small handful of people in 2007 who resolutely said that this church would not close though times were tough. And now, for almost 15 years since, we have grown, changed, and ministered mightily in this church and in this community. 

            The trouble with stubbornness is it must always be nurtured for good. For Dr. Jekyll, the fascination with being the wicked and indulgent Mr. Hyde got the better of him. He lost control and began changing into the evil persona even when he didn’t want to do so. Eventually, Mr. Hyde won out and Dr. Jekyll was lost. The way to build stubbornness into resilience and strength which dos good work and produces good fruit is through nurture, wisdom, and lots of good fertilizer on our own fig trees. That sense of strength and goodness, that deep rooted grace within us, must be constantly tended to, so that our roots grow even deeper, and our lives produce much good fruit for God. 

            The question for us, then, is will we be a stubborn people like Israel wandering in the desert, or will we be a stubborn people like Paul who followed God and preached the Good News no matter what? Are we willing to let God work on or person and character to make something good and beautiful, and Christlike out of it? As the hymn says, “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling…” Why tarry stubbornly when Jesus is pleading? Why linger stubbornly and ignore God’s loving mercy? 

If Jesus told a parable about each of us as a fig tree, what would he say? How deep would Jesus say our roots go? How much time have we spent being nurtured and tended to by our holy gardener? And most important in our daily walk with Christ—what kind of good fruit are we producing? 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/648466536255895

Facing Life's Tough Battles: Lent 2

Facing Opposition: Psalm 27; Luke 13: 31-35

            It is safe to say that the stories of Jesus are often my favorite part of the Bible. Because of my work in criminal justice, I’m fascinated by the words, the behaviors, and the teachings. Some of Jesus’s responses are so filled with care, gentleness, compassion, and the kind of healing that just lifts up every broken piece and makes it perfectly whole. And…then there’s this scripture. 

            As much as I love the loving, caring, and sacrificial behaviors of Jesus, there’s something that’s a bit thrilling when Jesus gets all sassy with people who are causing trouble. In some ways it speaks to our own inner smart aleck, who looks at this and says, “Mhmm.” Jesus, in today’s scripture, and in much of his life faced opposition and personal difficulty. Whether Herod, the Pharisees, or a populace that went with whatever whim in their mind that day, Jesus faced times when he had to defend and push back. There are two main ways to handle opposition in our lives: confrontationally or sacrificially. 

            One of the ways Jesus handled opposition and trial was confrontationally. A few of the Pharisees came to him with a warning that Herod Antipas wanted to kill Jesus, and he should flee from the Jerusalem area if he wanted to live. I think Jesus really questions their motives for this. Remember this is the Pharisees, so it’s just as probable that they simply want Jesus gone as much as they want to warn and help him. Jesus’s answer seems to imply that he also suspects their motives for warning him about Herod’s wrath. Though, Herod was certainly not some easy-going king. By this point, he’d had John the Baptist brutally killed, so it was highly likely he had his murderous intents set on Jesus as well. 

            Jesus, rather than cower at Herod’s political power, tells the Pharisees to go and tell Herod that Jesus’s purpose would be accomplished. Jesus had a mission of redemption and salvation, and there was no power on Earth, which Herod had, that could interfere with Jesus’s mission. Jesus even calls him a fox. That’s meant to imply that Herod is cunning, sneaky, devious. Jesus uses the image of the fox to conjure up some predator sneaking into a henhouse to kill and destroy. Herod tried to be a bully, but Jesus had none of it. 

            This confrontational Jesus is not just limited to this particular scripture. We also see Jesus flip tables in the temple when the house of God is perverted for profit. We see Jesus defiant and strong against would-be plots to trip him up with weird questions and theological challenges from the Pharisees and Sadducees. Where there is injustice, impropriety in the house of God, or religious rigidity which did not follow with Jesus’s call to love, forgiveness, and redemption, Jesus flipped tables, called out the foxes, and challenged the leaders who were holding the Jewish people hostage in a cold, dead, and legalistic and hateful religion. 

            Where that exists today, we must gently, faithfully, and with every word and movement based in God’s word challenge and confront what is wrong, unjust, and un-Christlike in our society. Jesus had no problem confronting those who spoke religious words but had no faith. Jesus had no problem calling the corrupt Herod Antipas a fox. Jesus had no trouble calling for holy changes in God’s house. Sometimes, opposition, whether active opposition or the oppression of the status quo, demands that we gather up our spiritual wits and confront it. 

            But, as Ecclesiastes says, to everything there is a season and time. There is also a time for sacrifice when opposition arises. To those who are fighters and not lovers, this one may be a bit harder. Jesus foreshadows what will happen when he returns to Jerusalem, saying, “You will never see me again until you say, ‘Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’” The next time they would see Jesus is when he is set up to be killed. 

            Jerusalem had a long history of showing a low tolerance for prophets. Stephen was martyred there. Jerusalem had also killed Uriah, Zechariah, several killed by Manasseh, Josephus Antiquites, and according to some scholars, Isaiah. Jesus understood sometimes the cure for opposition is sacrifice. He told the disciples that there is no greater love than laying down one’s life for another. The Psalm tells us that evil may come to devour us and foes may attack us, but there is strength to be found in God. The Psalm tells us, “Be brave and courageous. Wait patiently for the Lord.” 

            Biblically, the greatest story of overcoming opposition was that of Jesus going to the cross to sacrifice for us. Jesus tells the Pharisees in his pointed words to Herod, “I will keep on casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose.” Jesus’s purpose, though, wasn’t to defeat that fox once and for all. His purpose was a cross looking toward a resurrection which would cast out evil and heal us all. It is sometimes hard to accept that the Jesus who flipped tables in righteous fury is also the Christ of the cross, who gave his life and taught us what it means to sacrifice for others. 

            As a society, we seem to have become comfortable with being confrontational, but we’ve lost or understanding or desire to be sacrificial. Perhaps it’s seen as weak, as giving up or giving in, or maybe we’d just rather fuss vaguely about having “our rights” when called on to sacrifice. Jesus confronted what was unjust but sacrificed himself for others. We, too, are called to both. We must stand with Jesus against the foxes of this world and the foxes of the church. Make no mistake, Herod practiced the Jewish religion—he was neither pagan nor atheist. 

            But we are also called to live sacrificially. Just as Jesus walked a lonely road to the cross for us, we must take up our cross daily and serve God. If you’re like me, you might really enjoy reading about this sassy Jesus who called Herod a fox and let it rip on the temple corruption. But also, we both have to realize that our hope and or faith is found in the Christ of the cross, who gives love, forgiveness, and life to all. 

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/674580467200793

Facing Life's Tough Battles, Lent 1

Facing the Wilderness—Deut. 26: 1-11; Luke 4: 1-13

            Today’s Gospel lesson begins with the words that Jesus “was led by the Spirit in the wilderness.” Many of the Biblical Commentaries give great detail to the theology surrounding the temptations. They talk extensively about the Christology of this passage, meaning an explanation of how Jesus is shown as the Son of God. But, for us, right now, the concern is how do we cope with living in the wilderness? Jesus was baptized, filled with the Spirit, energized, and living on the great spiritual high place, then immediately, he found himself in the wilderness. How do we, too, live in the wilderness? 

            There’s also the Deuteronomy passage for us, which records the departure of the Hebrew people from Egypt. If you recall, it was 40 years they wandered in the desert. But most translations call it a wilderness, not a desert. In thinking on that scripture, it’s easy to judge and say, “How dumb do you have to be to mess up so badly that God sends you to wander in the wilderness for 40 years?” But the truth is, it’s a lot easier to wind up in the wilderness than you may think. 

            Many of us find ourselves in the wilderness these days. Life has seemed kind of heavy. The news is dire. Our good health is fleeing quickly. We’re facing new places and challenges in life we never expected. All of these places that challenge our peace, comfort, and ease of mind can be rightly called a wilderness. Basically, you don’t have to be in a literal desert to find yourself in the wilderness. It’s a place of temptation, trial, and fear which all hit us when we are most weak, vulnerable, and insecure in our lives. 

            In that point of great weakness, need, and vulnerability, Jesus was not only struggling physically in the wilderness; he was also viciously tempted by Satan to make him utterly fail. It is when you are at your lowest point in life’s wilderness that your trials and temptations will shout the loudest. The three points where Satan sought to tempt Jesus were doubt, greed, and selfishness. 

            Jesus was starving after fasting for 40 days, struggling, weary, and tired. Satan comes to him recognizing this weakness and taunts both Jesus’s sovereignty and exploits his hunger. Satan tells Jesus to turn the stones to bread. He doesn’t tempt Jesus to actually eat. He only lays the bait. He calls on Jesus to doubt that God the Father will sustain him through the wilderness and fasting. Jesus then redirects Satan—bread is not the point of life; God is the author, the source, and the whole reason for life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with greed. He offers the kingdoms of the world to Jesus. This temptation is harder than you may initially think. Greed is more than just money. It’s a lust power. It’s a gluttony for living in ways of excess which cause us to worship the world and its blessings instead of the One who created the world and all the blessings of it. If your wilderness is boredom, addiction, a desire for things, or a dissatisfaction with God and God’s blessings, then this is a tough temptation at your lowest point for it invites you to a momentary feel-good place instead of working through the trial with God. The invitation is to come and worship bad habits which feel good for a moment, instead of God who is strong and loving in every moment of life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with selfishness. Satan takes Jesus to the holiest place and, knowing Jesus will not worship Satan, asks Jesus to worship himself. There’s an old movie called The Devil’s Advocate, where Al Pacino plays the devil. One of his lines in the movie is, “Vanity is my favorite sin.” Selfishness shows up a number of ways: criticizing constantly, needing to be right and show you are right (which I confess I need to lay on the altar myself), refusing to acknowledge a need for God and those who are around you. Vanity is an easy temptation because humility doesn’t exactly feel good most days. But we must find a careful, spirit-filled balance between good self-esteem and self-worship. 

            Jesus overcomes temptation. After tiring of Satan’s antics, he flat says, “You must NOT test the Lord your God.” With that Satan is finished…for now. An important point is that we are told Satan leaves “until the next opportunity.” Life is lived through a series of trials and temptations. It’s unfair, I’ll be the first to admit. But the unfairness is evened out, because just as Jesus had the strength to respond and navigate through the wilderness, so do we. The Hebrew people spent 40 years struggling through the wilderness, but God saw them through to the promised land. Jesus suffered for 40 days in the wilderness, but he came through and began a work which saved the world. 

            Living life in the wilderness is hard, and there’s no way to soften that truth. But the wilderness is made more bearable by a few things in life. First, like Jesus, we must face the wilderness filled with the Holy Spirit.  There’s really no other way to go through life’s wilderness and trials. Second we have a Savior who has suffered through and overcome the wilderness and a God who has power over all things including the power to get us through the wilderness. 

            Finally, we have people who will journey with us. I was cleaning out emails the other day and came across an old one from 2012 where Sissy, or Saint Sissy, as we called her wrote me an email while I was out sick with the flu. I imagined her sitting and slowly typing the short email with her small hands twisted up with arthritis, but still persisting in sending me a message. She told me to drink lots of hot green tea because it’s soothing for the throat and fever. She added, let God love on you. Me too. Sissy. Facing the wilderness can be frightening, the unknown, the doubt we carry, the inhumanity we see every day. But God is always with us, and there are those around us who will be our help and support as we journey together. As the hymn says, “What have I to dread, what have I to fear [when I’m] leaning on the everlasting arms?” Amen. 

   Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/650339992899412

Those Tough Lessons

Those Tough Lessons—Psalm 37: 1-5; Luke 6:27-38

             This portion of Luke is incredibly similar to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew where we hear the Beatitudes. In Luke, however, it is called the “Sermon on the Plain,” and it tracks the lessons in Matthew closely. I imagine those who heard it were a bit shocked at what Jesus had to say. 

            “Love your enemies.” That’s what the man said. He told us to love our enemies, and to do good to those who hate us. I mean, what does he even mean by that, and who is he kidding? I can barely tolerate my friends and family on a good day, and now I’m supposed to love my enemies? He told us that if someone slaps us on the cheek (and you know what an insult that is!) that we should turn the other cheek to them. I guess it’s to allow them to just keep slapping us around. Let me tell you, growing up, I was taught that if someone slaps you, you smack the snot out of them and never back down. 

            And for that matter, if someone curses me and hurts me, I ain’t going to bless them and pray for them. You know how to curse me, guess what, I learned a whole vocabulary of choice words to give you back buster. Then, and get this, he tells me that if someone robs or steals my coat to give them my shirt also. Guess I’m supposed to just go running around in my undershirt or something. He kept on and on with that saying to just let thieves have my stuff. Don’t try to get it back or nothing. Just let it go. 

            He rounded this whole sermon out by telling us not to judge or condemn others. That’s like taking away my favorite hobby—being judgy. And this statement—“Do to others as you would like them to do to you.” You know what, I’m not even going to set myself up like that. I’m going to do to others just exactly like they treat me. You’re good to me, I’m going to be good to you. If not, good luck. 

*** 

            These really are some of Jesus’s toughest lessons to us. In many ways they are the opposite of what training and instinct would tell us to do. But these things also provide two important aspects of faith: distinguishing and trusting. When we hear something difficult or receive a tough life lesson, the first question we always ask is “why?” Luke’s gospel actually provides us the why right here in the reading. In verses 32 we are told, “If you love only those who love you, why should you get credit for that? Even sinners love those who love them!” Again, in verse 33 we are told, “Even sinners do that much!” Verse 34 reiterates the same phrase that even sinners will lend money for a full return. 

            The question, then, is what distinguishes us as Christians from what is generally accepted practice in the world around us? If we do what even sinners do, how is being a Christian any different? Over and over in multiple gospels, we are given the message that it is not enough just to claim being Christian. Words are empty unless there is action on our part which clearly provides evidence of the claim of faith we make. Now, our grace is not found in the work we do, but the proof of our grace, and the evidence of the faith and belief we claim, is found in how we live and what we do. 

            Imagine if you know someone who claims to be a concert pianist, and you never see them even touch a piano? Or what if someone claims to be a master chef and all you ever see them make for food is cereal? The proof of our claims to faith is evidenced in how we live and what we do in this world. If just anyone love those who love them, go the extra step, and love your enemies as well. If just anyone gives for a full return, go the extra step, and give to those who cannot give the money back. Don’t judge, don’t condemn, and be distinguished by being more like Jesus. 

            Living this way not only distinguishes us, but also helps us grow in our trust in God. Psalm 37:3 and 5 tell us, “Trust in the Lod and do good…Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you.” To be this proactively faithful in our lives is more than we can really do on our own. The other day, I was driving near the 16/75 split. There was some crazy person in Mercedes SUV tailgating, weaving, and blaring the horn at traffic. They nearly ran me off the road. And in that moment, I can assure you that when it comes to “do good to those who hate you, [and] bless those who curse you,” I failed completely and utterly. 

            Following these teachings are so against our nature for preservation and safety as humans, that we can only live them with trust in God to guide us each moment. This idea of the “Golden Rule” is one of the best known, but least practiced parts of Luke’s gospel. We are told, “Do unto others as you would like them to do to you.” Our intuition in life is to be retribution minded. If this person causes me problems, I’m going to make their life miserable. I’ll be a smart aleck right back to them. As Christians we cannot live our lives on the moral that we should do to others as they do to us. Even if it costs us pain and suffering, we are to model the behavior we would like to see in others. 

            A pastor I’m friends with offered a quote once which resonated with me, and that I go back to often. He said, “Believing in Jesus is not all that difficult. Actually following him is incredibly hard but also completely life-changing.” Both the Sermon on the Mount and the Sermon on the Plain present a narrative of God’s expectation for us as God’s people. But the truth is both are incredibly difficult to live. Perhaps the best advice is in verse 5 of the Psalm, “Commit everything you do to the Lord.” None of these instructions will be possible to live without God’s help and God’s guidance blended with our trust. 

            All these instructions, however, Jesus not only taught but lived. He loved and offered grace to those who worked against him. They took his life, and he rose in glory. He offered himself for us even when we did not deserve it, and like a lamb he was led away quietly. He taught against condemnation and paved a way to undo judgment. And God never treats us harshly in return for how we’ve acted. Trust in God to help you each day, and we can begin to be the people of God’s kingdom we are called and empowered to be. 

Apologies. The livestream did not work today. The sermon is text only.

Spiritual Maturity Pt. 7

Spiritual Maturity 7: Motivated By Love, Not Fear:  Proverbs 10:9-12; I John 4: 7-20 

           Growing up, I often heard the phrase, “That’ll put the fear of God in him (or her).” Now, at times this was relayed as being a fear built on respect. But I couldn’t help noticing that all too often the motivator was not a healthy respect, but an actual and real fear which was created and cultivated in people. I remember in one church service we sang the old hymn, “The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell.” Then we sang, “When nothing else could help, love lifted me!” Then the sermon topic for the day was how God’s wrath burned mightily against the Israelites, and God opened a fiery pit in the earth and swallowed up the unfaithful ones in the desert. And all I could think was love better get to liftin’ me a bit faster. 

            Too many of us grew up with our primary motivation being an unhealthy fear, of life, of people, and of God. There’s no hope in that. There’s no joy to be found. It’s a faith based on what we call coercive control in legal circles, and the coercion being control by force or fear or threat of violence. Do this or be smote down by God. Our final mark of spiritual maturity by T.B. Matson is motivation out of love rather than fear. Love is affirming. Love is expansive, and love is courageous. 

            Love is affirming. Many of us live with small fears in our lives, or perhaps even big ones. We speak to our fears when we ask, “what if?” For example: “What if I fail? What if they die? What if these people don’t like me? What if I say or do something not socially acceptable or proper in this situation?” Hear this when I say it—that there is no doubt-filled “what if” question which comes from love. They are all based on fear. Perhaps we can even speak to the biggest one in our society, “What will people think?” I John 4:9 says, “God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. 10 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.” 

            In Romans 3 we hear even more strongly that God did not send the Son into the world for condemnation, but so that we may have life, eternal life, and life with God as creator, redeemer, and sustainer. Never judgmental, God’s love is meant to be affirming and a daily reminder that we are redeemed children of God. Think of all the people who come here for church for a moment. How many of them would not be in church if we didn’t practice this affirming, caring, love which God has commanded us over and over again to show. Perfect love casts out fear. When we claim our faith in God, this love assures us that God claims us as beloved children. 

            Love is also expansive. Many have argued against this idea using Matthew 7:14, “Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” I heard a pastor friend take this idea up once. He said, “Narrow is the gate, and difficult is the way, but we must also remember ‘wide is the welcome unto this gate.’” I John makes this point clear in verse 8, “But anyone who does not know love does not know God, for God is love.” One commentary pointed something important. Jesus commands us to love in the gospels. But here, we are told to love not as a rule but because this is the very nature of God. Our love results from our faith, and we cannot truly love as God loves us until we have faith. 

We are then told to love one another. Verse 20 winds up by saying, essentially, if anyone has any malice or hate in their heart, their faith is a lie, for you cannot claim to love God yet hate other people. God is love. And God is love for those whom we don’t like, for those whom society doesn’t like, for those who have lived in evil—that love of God is still present and working to draw them out of that dark place where they live. God’s love is expansive, powerful, and never stops calling to us until the last breath of air is breathed. As Proverbs says, “love makes up for all offenses.” God is love, and that love lifts us from our place of sin, into a place of relationship. You cannot hate someone into faith. You cannot lecture them into belief. You cannot shut them out, punish them, or compel them into submission. The only thing which truly redeems and saves a person is this holy love coming from God unto us, for God is love, and in that love is hope and redemption. 

            Finally, love is courageous. There are a few verses in the Bible which can give us chills. I John 4: 18 is one of them: “Perfect love expels [or casts out] all fear.” Emmet Till was a 14-year-old African American child in Mississippi. In 1955, he was accused of whistling at a white woman in a grocery store. Shortly thereafter, her husband and his half-brother kidnapped and brutally murdered this child. His mother was asked if she hated or harbored bitterness towards the men who killed her son. She answered, “It certainly would be unnatural not to [hate them], yet I'd have to say I'm unnatural. The Lord gave me shield; I don't know how to describe it myself. I did not wish them dead. I did not wish them in jail. If I had to, I could take their four little children—they each had two—and I could raise those children as ifthey were my own and I could have loved them. I believe the Lord meant what he said and try to live according to the way I've been taught.” Love is courageous, and perfect love casts out all fear, and hatred, and anger. 

            The commentary followed this story with these words, “The church's love is progressively shaped by Christ and distilled of all corrupting…[fear], bitterness, and cynicism. As this happens, we may come to realize that, finally, we do not interpret 1 John. It interprets us.” We are changed, somehow, not only into God’s children, but hopefully into God’s character of love, forgiveness, mercy, and hope. 

            As the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Michael Curry, says, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” Love is affirming of each one of us with all our faults and failures turned into the redemptive hope God gives. Love is expansive calling all of humanity to this faith which transforms here and gives eternal hope to come. Love is courageous, for as the hymn says, “When nothing else could help, love lifted me.” And so, it has. And so, it shall. Amen. 

Worship: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/619802999115975

Spiritual Maturity Part 6

Spiritual Maturity 6: Dependable and Predictable—Deut. 31:1-8; John 13: 31-38

            We’ve long heard the phrases—sayings—which seem quite nice but are really what I call “Southern insults.” It was several years that I lived in Macon before I realized that when people said, “Bless your heart,” they were not exactly wishing me well. Another of those phrases is calling someone “flighty” or “flakey.” It’s a very polite and generous way of saying that someone cannot be trusted because they will leave you hanging. Up in Kentucky, we are a bit more blunt and say quite frankly, “You just can’t depend on them for anything.” T. B. Matson identifies, as a mark of spiritual maturity, “a life that is dependable and predictable.” This sense of stability is a clear sign that one is growing in God and is maturing in faith. Now, there is a pathway to becoming dependable and predictable. That road is twofold  through both commitment and respect. 

            First, we look at this idea of commitment. The definition includes such words as a pledge, an obligation, or a sense of dedication. In our words of faith, that would look more like a covenant, which is a promise or pledge sealed in the promise of God. For example, when we do communion, we talk about this “new covenant,” which is a promise of redemption from God sealed and secured by the sacrifice Christ made. Covenant is a powerful concept reserved for the real biggies of life: our belief in God, our marriages, the vow to ministry—all of these most sacred acts in life. 

            We have to be dependable and predictable in our lives because we make promises and covenants with others, and they in turn place their trust and in some cases their lives into our care and responsibility. In our Gospel for today, Jesus experiences a double whammy of betrayal and broken promises. We read that Judas has left the room. This is at the Last Supper, and Judas has left to betray Jesus to the soldiers for money. And yet, Jesus seems resigned to this. He is bothered more by Peter’s actions. 

            Peter becomes upset and emotional when he hears that Jesus will leave them, and correctly presumes it will be to his death. In his worked-up state, he says that he is ready to die for Jesus—all the way to the end he will go for Christ. But Jesus tells Peter that instead of this bold commitment, or even a covenant, Peter will instead deny and betray Jesus as well. Peter was possibly the closest to Jesus, and he would soon turn his own back on Jesus, betray his commitment, and leave Jesus utterly alone to be tried and killed. 

            How many times do we see and deal with broken promises? How many times do we see Christian leaders, friends, elders, people we look up to walk back their commitment to us? This lack of commitment, of covenant, with one another is a sign of weak and wishy-washy faith. I think of the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer who spoke out against Nazism in Germany. At any point he could have relented and lived out his life in silence, but instead he chose to continue speaking out even until his execution, committed to the cause of what was right. Commitments and covenants are not just a simple agreement. They are binding promises made both to God and with another person, and a person with mature faith will stick to his or her commitments. 

            Second, a life that is dependable and predictable is forged out of respect. Jesus says to the disciples in the Gospel, “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.” This is a love which is born out of respect. A rather harsh truth is that if you actually love and care about someone, you will not let them down. This is especially true if it’s a promise forged in faith. When God calls us, we are responsible and answerable to God and to one another as well. As messy as it can be, faith was meant to be lived both in solitude with God and in community with one another. 

            This respect and love make us predictable, so that we are models of trust and given this strength by God. Moses, we read, would never arrive at the promised land. He was dependable and led the people, but he was often unpredictable—wishy washy in making a commitment to God, angered and difficult at times. In one part of the journey, he is told to speak to a rock for water to come out of it, and instead he strikes the rock in a fury. All throughout the Bible, we read that God values self-control. It is even a fruit of the spirit to manage, with God’s help, to have gentleness and self-control. We have to be both dependable AND predictable. 

            So now we get to what I’m guessing is your big question. What do we do about people who lack this level of spiritual maturity—who are neither dependable nor predictable. First and foremost, you pray for them and love them. When Jesus says, “Love each other,” he means it as a two-way street. Show love by not wronging or abandoning others. But also, show love by forgiving wrongs. Forgiveness must also be accompanied by accountability and safe boundaries. Jesus taught love, but he also stopped Peter from offering more nice but empty words. Peter goes off shouting that he wants to follow Jesus now because he’s ready to die for Jesus. But Jesus knows Peter still lacks the maturity to actually follow through with this claim. Jesus gently rebuke’s Peter’s hollow offer and reminds Peter that he must show he is dependable and predictable, committed fully to Christ in this way. No one will ever grow in their faith if they do not receive gentle accountability to hold them firm. 

            Thelma Price told me an old story which comes to mind. This older man and his wife woke up one Sunday morning. It was cold and raining. The man rolled over and said he wasn’t going to church that day because it was bad outside and those people hate him anyway. His wife said, “Honey, you have to. You must go to church!” The older man asked his wife for three good reasons why he should go to church. She replied firmly, “Number one, I shouldn’t have to go without you. Number two, those people do love you and want to see you. And number three, YOU’RE THE PASTOR, AND IT’S YOUR JOB! Now, get up and make good on your commitment.” 

Being dependable and predictable is tough when all you want to do is crawl further under the covers and hide away. But the Christ who loved us walked boldly to the cross and loved us through a commitment of suffering and death. And he still loves us unto this very day. Just as God promised the Israelites to be with them, never to leave, never to abandon them, the same God promises to us, “I will never leave you, nor will I abandon you.” It’s a new covenant, given to us in body and blood, bread and cup, and we are called to respond to this covenant of hope and love simply by giving ourselves to the One who first loved us. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/307368224786166