hope

Dec

2021

Living in hope (though life is difficult)

We wait for the Lord — hopefully, patiently, responsibly

Message for 3rd Sunday of Advent
by David Sellnow

Readings for the day: Zephaniah 3:14-20, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18

Stephanie grew up under the weight of demanding, overbearing parents. Their way was always the right way, and their children were going to toe the line and become obedient, upstanding, model citizens. Stephanie’s older sister fit the model perfectly. At the strict religious school their parents enrolled them in, Stephanie’s sister got all A’s and was considered the impeccable child. Stephanie lived in her sister’s shadow, got mostly C’s, and was seen as far less than ideal. Later in life, Stephanie gave up on church, because the sternness of the church in which she was raised made her feel that who she was and how she was always was wrong. Her parents were mortified when she stopped going to church, and they distanced themselves more and more from her. Stephanie lived her life, but she lived with a sense of shame, felt like an outcast from her family, and was haunted by a lingering sense of judgment looming over her.

Derrick had labored diligently year after year. He always had a job, sometimes a couple of jobs at a time. He would do whatever he could to keep shoes on his kids’ feet and food on the table. He didn’t give a lot of attention to his own needs, because he was too busy taking care of the needs of others. If he could do that, he was happy. Then one day, the manufacturing plant where Derrick worked shut down. He found himself out of work for the first time in his life. The town where he lived with his family was shrinking. Derrick was in his mid-50s. Finding a new job was no easy task. The bills began to pile up while Derrick kept applying for any and every position (but not getting hired). He told employers in the bigger city 40 miles away that he could commute. They looked at him skeptically when he got as far as getting an interview … and that’s as far as he ever got, it seemed. Derrick began to feel worthless to anyone and a failure to his family. When he started feeling fatigued and worn down physically, he figured it was all part of how generally low he was feeling. But the physical symptoms got worse and worse. He wouldn’t go to the doctor because he no longer had insurance. He eventually did go to the emergency room–when his wife, who had struggled by his side during the difficult months, found him collapsed on the floor and had to call an ambulance. Derrick’s life had gone from stability to disaster in a short span of time. He needed help. He needed health. He needed to find hope again somehow.

Those are just a couple of stories of shame, of judgment, of disability, of disaster. What is your story? What is your shame? What makes you feel weak and lame and hopeless and helpless? What are the judgments against you that make you feel like an outcast? What difficulties and disasters have you encountered? I’m not asking you to give those testimonials here in comments/replies to this blog post. I anticipate, though, that each of you has had (or now has or will have) tales you could tell of troubles and worries and woes. What do you do in the midst of your hurts and hardships and upheavals? Where do you turn?

Listen to the voice of a prophet calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Inspired by the Lord, Zephaniah said:

The Lord has taken away the judgments against you; he has turned away your enemies. … You shall fear disaster no more. … Do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst. … He will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love. “I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it. I will deal with all your oppressors. … I will save the lame and gather the outcast,and I will change their shame into praise. … I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes,” says the Lord (Zephaniah 3:14-20 selected verses).

You may be unfamiliar with the context of the times in which Zephaniah was writing. His ministry was, after all, over 26 centuries ago, around 630 BC (Christianity.com, Bible.org). Zephaniah’s ministry likely was very early in the reign of King Josiah. Josiah came to the throne as just a boy, and later in his career sought to institute religious reforms in the nation of Judah, because the people had lost track of the law of God (cf. 2 Kings 22, 23). But those reform attempts hadn’t happened yet. Zephaniah was speaking to a nation that had been living under God’s blessing for several hundred years and was growing distant in their hearts from God. They were worshiping other things, following other priorities, with individuals seeking their own advantage and ignoring their neighbor’s needs. Sound familiar? Sound a little like our own lives in our own times? Back in those Old Testament times, Josiah’s reforms were short-lived. A couple decades after Zephaniah, the prophet Jeremiah would be speaking out again, even more dramatically. When Zephaniah called for repentance and a return to God, regular, everyday people in Judah lived under the sway of the powerful and immoral in their own nation—and they were caught up in plenty of apostasy themselves. One commentator described the cultural context as a time “of great darkness … of violence and pain,” adding: “God never brings destruction to a place or a people that haven’t already destroyed themselves” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). As Zephaniah (and later Jeremiah) foretold, there next would come a time when the regular, everyday people of God would live under the sway of other powerful nations and people, their fates held in the hands of first the Bablylonians and then the Medes and the Persians.

At the same time as Zephaniah prophesied impending judgment from God, however, he also gave the people a message of hope. When God judges or destroys, he does so “for the purpose of protecting or rebuilding” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). The hope held out by Zephaniah would find some fulfillment when Judah was restored from captivity under Babylon and Persia. Hope would be fulfilled still more when the Messiah would come, when Jesus was born and brought new hope to this world. Hope will be fulfilled ultimately when Jesus comes again at the end of time, vindicating the faith of those who have continued to trust in him through all the pains and shames and sins and disasters of this life.

We are called to hope as the people in Zephaniah’s day were called to hope. That same call to hope was issued by the apostle Paul in New Testament times. When Paul wrote his letter of encouragement to the church in Philippi, he was being held imprisoned in Rome, and the Philippian church members were facing an array of troubles and persecutions. They had judgments against them. They had enemies. They were reproached. People in their community opposed and oppressed them. But, at the beginning of his letter, Paul told them, “[God] has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well—since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have” (Philippians 1:29,30). Many of our churches and church members today are facing struggles and challenges of their own. You may be feeling insecurity about where things are at right now, and much uncertainty about where things are headed in the future. But listen to the voice of Christ’s apostle calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Paul urges you, as he did the Philippians:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:4-7).

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ. And so as we wait for Christ—for Christmas in this season and for Christ’s return to us at the end of days—we strive to live with hope in our hearts. We encourage one another to be hopeful, even when the circumstances in which we find ourselves look bleak. We wait for the Lord hopefully, hanging onto his promises as the gospel truth.

And we wait patiently … or at least try to be patient. We are, by nature, impatient people. We tend to want what we want and we want it now. If the package we ordered doesn’t arrive in a couple of days, we get irritated. If the trip to the store takes up too much time with too long of lines, we get irritated. If something we want for ourselves, for our house, for our farm or business, or for our church is not available to us right now or is out of reach of our budget or unrealistic in our present situation, we get irritated. We are impatient.

Life as it is, in the here and now, often doesn’t align with our ambitions or with the comfort and stability we want. Life is often painful and hard. Things don’t go our way. Things get in our way. Sickness interrupts health. Lack of resources limits our options. Other people don’t think the way we think they should think, or do what we want them to do. We turn from hopeful and happy to being frustrated and ornery. We may take out our frustrations against others, even those closest to us. Within our families and within our churches, each of us starts seeking our own interests rather than maintaining concern for one another and for the well-being of all. So we become less ethical, more self-centered in our own attitudes and behaviors.

Our impatience and frustrations lead us to become ungrateful, uncooperative, unyielding–all of which, of course, are the opposite of God’s call to us. We are called to “lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and … run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). Only by keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus as the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2) can we stay on a path of rejoicing always, displaying gentleness to everyone, not worrying about things but maintaining thankfulness. It feels so impossible for us to live in such an attitude, but we are assured: “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard [our] hearts and … minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).

So we strive to live hopefully and to live patiently–hoping in Christ and his promises, patient with each other as we face life’s challenges, and leaning on each other as brothers and sisters. Living such a life together as God’s people calls us to live honestly, ethically, responsibly with one another.

Listen to the call of another of God’s prophets, John the Baptist. When the crowds asked John, “What then should we do?” (Luke 3:10) …

In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” [When] tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” [John] said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages” (Luke 3:11-14).

You get John’s point. Be ethical. Be responsible. Be thinking of others, not just of yourselves. “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” as Jesus said (Luke 6:31). Treat everyone with respect and consideration and caring as you interact with one another. That is our calling in our communities, with every neighbor in our world. That is equally and especially our calling also within our churches, as we plan and work and do ministry together.

Many small and medium-size churches today are facing significant challenges as they seek to carry out ministry. A national survey of churches conducted just prior to COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020 found that “half of the country’s estimated 350,000 religious congregations had 65 or fewer people in attendance on any given weekend … a drop of more than half from a median attendance level of 137 people in 2000” (Religious News Service, October 14, 2021). The pandemic has reduced worship attendance even further, standing now at about three-fourths of pre-pandemic levels as of August of this year (Baptist Standard, November 4, 2021).

Maybe the way you’re feeling about your own life or your congregational life these days is something like the feelings of Stephanie or Derrick (whom I described at the start of this message). Feeling like you’re the outcast, the down-and-out little sister, not as good as big churches somewhere else that seem to be flourishing. Feeling like you have labored and toiled and worked hard for many years, and now are up against challenges that have you searching desperately for resources and answers that are nowhere to be seen. Again, we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We can’t cast our eyes into the near (or far) future here on earth and know exactly what plans the Lord is working out for us. But we do have his promise “that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). And we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ. And so as we wait for Christ—in this Christmas season and anticipating his return to us at the end of days—we will strive to live in dignity and love with one another. We will set our minds on thinking about things that are true and honorable and pure and pleasing (cf. Philippians 4:8), rejoicing in the Lord always (Philippians 4:4). And we will set our hands about whatever tasks we can take on–to advance our relationships with one another, our care for others in our communities, and our commitment to honoring Christ in everything we say and do.

Life on this earth is not easy. It was not easy in Zephaniah’s day, nor in the days of John the Baptist and the apostle Paul. It’s never easy. As Paul and his missionary companions said to the members of churches they had established, “We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22 NIV). But we have God’s promise that he doesn’t abandon us. So we will not abandon him in our hearts, but keep trusting and hoping and persevering. We will not abandon him in our actions, but keep loving and helping and befriending. This is the life to which we are called by the prophets and apostles. This is our calling in Christ. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7). Amen.

Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotation marked (NIV) taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Dec

2021

The Resurrection is our Hope

Last month, I shared a sermon by my father as the blog post of the month. My thoughts are very much focused on family also as this month draws to a close. A member of our family has passed away, and we will be gathering for her funeral. It seems appropriate to share another sermon from my father at this time. As church year thoughts shifted from End Times (thinking of the end of life and end of this world) to the start of Advent (thinking of Christ’s return to take us home), this was a sermon preached by my father, November 20, 1960.

Christian Comfort in the Face of Death

by Donald C. Sellnow

But we don’t want you to be ignorant, brothers, concerning those who have fallen asleep, so that you don’t grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. For this we tell you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will in no way precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with God’s trumpet. The dead in Christ will rise first, then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. So we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore comfort one another with these words.

(1 Thessalonians 4:13-18)

In directing us to the comfort that is ours in the face of death, Christ’s apostle refers three times who have died as being asleep. The death of a Christian truly can be called a sleep, because the person is awaiting a glorious awakening. The awakening will take place in the resurrection of the body on the last day, an awakening to eternal life made certain for God’s people by the resurrection of Jesus from the grave. As Paul reminded us, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus” (v.14).

The resurrection of Jesus is a fundamental belief of our Christian faith. It is so vital and all-important that the New Testament writers refer to it no less than 104 times. It is the very basis of our Christian comfort in the face of death. If Christ had not risen from the dead, our faith would be in vain and useless, and we would look forward to death with only fear and despair.

But our faith is not in vain, and we need not fear death. Our Savior did indeed rise again the third day, as we confess in the Apostles’ Creed, as attested to by scores of witnesses (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:3-8). God’s sure word assures us Christ’s resurrection is a fact, beyond any reasonable doubt. Christ’s appearances after his resurrection are detailed in that Word, recounting how Jesus showed himself to his disciples again and again. He gave them many convincing proofs that he—whom they had seen dead and buried—was alive again. He walked and talked with them. He ate and drank with them. He let them touch his risen body and see the marks of the crucifixion in his flesh. His friends and followers were at first slow to believe it, or we might say, they were appropriately skeptical. But the Lord Jesus thoroughly and completely convinced them of the miracle of his resurrection—so much so that they were ready to die for their confession of Christ as the risen Savior.

The good news that Christ rose triumphant from the grave is a sure, biblical fact. It also is much more than that, for it is a fact filled with wonderful meaning for us. The fact that Christ rose from the dead assures us that his death on the cross was indeed a redemptive, meaningful act for us all. His sacrifice of himself on the cross has taken away the sins of the whole world and opened up the gates of heaven to all, so that whoever believes in him will not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16).

Christ’s resurrection assures us that all our sins are forgiven, and also assures us that we, too, will rise to eternal life. As the apostle Paul stated: “Even so God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus” (v.14). All who by the grace and power of the Holy Spirit hold fast in faith to the end, trusting in the crucified and risen Savior, shall be raised up with him in joy and glory. For we have our risen Savior’s sure promise: “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25,26).

Therefore, since we have this sure comfort based on the resurrection of our Lord, we need not grieve in a way that is without hope when our loved ones depart this life. They have fallen asleep in Jesus, but will be awakened to life forever with Jesus. Surely, it is appropriate to mourn over the departure of loved ones from this life. Jesus himself wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus, whom he had loved deeply (cf. John 11:28-37). But in our grief, we also have rays of hope shining through, as we remember our loved one died in Christ. Those who have rested in Christ’s arms during this life rest in his loving arms also in death, and await the glorious resurrection of their bodies to life eternal, which is to come.

Another comfort we have concerning the resurrection is that there will be no disadvantage to those who have already fallen asleep in Jesus when that day comes. There will be equal joy for all believers in Christ. The Christians at Thessalonica, to whom Paul wrote his epistle, were eagerly awaiting the Lord’s return in glory. But as they awaited the Savior’s second coming, they began to wonder what would happen to those who already had died in Christ. Somehow they had gotten the idea that those still living at the time of Christ’s return would have a great advantage over those who had already died. They feared the dear departed would not be able to see and welcome the Savior when he appeared. In connection with this misconception, the apostle told them: “For this we tell you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will in no way precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with God’s trumpet. The dead in Christ will rise first, then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. So we will be with the Lord forever” (v.15-17).

Here Paul gives us a fuller picture of the great resurrection on Judgment Day. On that day, our Savior will return in glory to judge the living and the dead. He will descend from heaven with a shout, with a mighty order and command that will penetrate every grave and echo through the whole creation. The voice of the archangel (greatest among the angels) will also be heard. He will sound forth the trumpet of God over all the earth. Then “the dead in Christ will rise first” (v.16). We know that on Judgment Day, all that are in the grave, believers and unbelievers alike, shall be raised up. But here St. Paul wants to comfort the Christians concerning a very specific point. He is content to center attention only on the rising of the believers. And what he wants to tell us is this: The very first thing that the Savior will do upon his return for judgment is to raise up his believers. Then, as they are resurrecting, those Christians who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Thus there will be no advantage or disadvantage either for the dead or the living Christians. Simultaneously, both will be caught up to meet and welcome their Lord, who has come to bring final deliverance from evil to his people. In the resurrection, Chtrist will also give his people a glorified body. We will be given bodies free from the consequences of sin, sickness and disease, immortal bodies that will be perfectly suited for life that lasts forever. As the same St. Paul assured us in another of his letters to the church: “Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die,but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory’” (1 Corinthians 15:51-55).

That brings us to the final part of our meditation about our comfort in the face of death. The comfort is endless, perpetual, enduring, for “we will be with the Lord forever” (v.17). Our comfort as Christians is an eternal comfort. We will be in the presence of our gracious Savior in a life of bliss without end. The resurrection of the body will take us forward to a place where God himself will be with his people and “he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4). What a wonderful comfort this is for us when we are approaching our own death and as we think of our loved ones who have preceded us in death. For we shall meet them again in heaven, where we shall be together with them and with our Lord. In that heavenly home, there shall be fullness of happiness and joy forevermore.

“Therefore comfort one another with these words” (v.18). We indeed can comfort one another with these words of gospel truth. The message of the resurrection to eternal life is a bright ray of hope in the face of death. The fact that Christ died and rose again—and that he will raise up all who believe in him to eternal life with him—is the rock solid ground of our confidence. This central truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ—the power of his resurrection, shared with us—is what gives rest and peace and comfort to our souls as we face the loss of a loved one or our own last hour on this earth. May we all hold fast in faith to Christ the Savior, clinging to this comfort always.

Lord, keep us steadfast in faith and grant us at last a blessed death and a joyous awakening in our eternal home. Amen.

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Sep

2021

Our Life and Protection are in Christ

We are armed against evil and go forth with God’s truth

Ephesians 6:10-20

Armor of Gustav I of Sweden, circa 1540. Image from Wikipedia.org

We have in our minds an idealized picture of the knight in shining armor. “The Book of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table (T.Malory, 1485), did much to create that heroic image in our collective consciousness. The Camelot-style combat uniform was elaborate. Interlocking, overlapping rings of iron were fashioned into headpieces and bodices as the first protective layer. Over this chain mail, they wore full suits of iron and steel, fired and polished to a slick finish, complete with domed helmet and faceguard, leg and arm protectors, metal gloves and boots. They carried a heavy shield to block any blows that the armor did not deflect. They also carried offensive weapons, a lance and sword, for jousting and jabbing and slashing at attackers. Overall, a suit of armor could weigh sixty pounds or more–not including javelin, sword, and shield. It required a strong man just to wear and carry it all, let alone do battle in such armor. In such armor, according to folklore, good and chivalrous knights clashed on the battlefield with those they deemed evil opponents.

Of course, we know the legends exaggerate the goodness of the good guys and the badness of the bad guys. Real battles and warfare were (and are) always more complicated. The Crusades, for instance, were not altogether driven by Christian motives, and there were many atrocities committed. Even to the extent that they were religious wars, as one commentator put it, “The medieval crusades were a largely dreadful misdirection of religious enthusiasm [on both sides] towards painful and bloody ends” (TIME, “Ideas/History,” 10/10/2019).

Warfare on this earth is rarely (if ever) a struggle of one entirely righteous group against an entirely evil adversary. In the spiritual realm, however, there is pure goodness, which is in God. And there is ultimate evil, which rages against God and all those he has claimed as his own. As God’s people, whose life and protection are secured in Christ, we are embroiled in a struggle for our souls. But in this struggle, we are given the protection we need in Christ and his peacemaking power that is our “weapon” for engaging with those around us in this world.

The apostle Paul used the picture of battle armor to portray what we need to take our stand on the side of the Lord and to go forth in the name of the Lord. It’s a picture Paul borrowed from the prophet Isaiah, who revealed Christ our Savior as the one to wear such armor first. Isaiah described the coming Messiah as one who would “put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on his head,” and would “come to Zion as Redeemer” (Isaiah 59:17,20). Paul used the same imagery to show why we are like knights or warriors, why we need armor and weapons. He said, ““Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil” (Ephesians 6:10-11).

We need armor from God because we daily face the devil (the “slanderer”), the accuser against us. He schemes and sabotages, trying to topple us from our position with God. If our life is drawn as a battlefield, the devil is like the fearsome, brutal enemy who seeks to oust us from our saddle, knock us to the ground, and slash at us until we are dead. Our battle with the devil is a fight to the finish.

And what’s worse, there is not just one devil to deal with. They are legion (cf. Mark 5:8-9), a horde of evil forces arrayed against us. “The dark spirits at work in this world are bigger and stronger than we usually think” (Christianity Today, October 30, 2018).

As Paul reminds us, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).

What Scripture describes is an entire army, organized for onslaught against us. They are not mere flesh and blood. They are an army of angels who fell from grace but remain potent in power, using that power now to prey upon our souls. There have been plenty of human agents that have committed great evils in this world, but underneath the flow of human events there is a still more sinister influence. Mick Jagger wasn’t wrong when he introduced the devil as the one who “rode a tank, held a general’s rank, when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank,” and has been in the background of other horrors in history. As the Rolling Stones sang, he’s “been around for a long, long time, stole many a man’s soul and faith” (“Sympathy for the Devil,” 1968). Behind so many evils is “the old satanic foe who has sworn to work us woe.” As Martin Luther reminds us, “On earth, he has no equal” (“A Mighty Fortress,” 16th century).

That’s why we need to “take up the whole armor of God,” so that we may be able to stand firm on “that evil day” when temptations attack us (Ephesians 6:13). We are weaker than our spiritual enemies, but the Lord our God is stronger by far. One little word can triumph over the devil and knock him backward. The word that the demons hate most is “Jesus”–the name that means “the Lord saves.” They hate the word “Christ,” the title of God’s Anointed One, knowing they are the rejected ones, cast out of God’s presence. Jesus, the Word made flesh, came to this earth “to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8). Because of Christ, there is no longer any condemnation for us; we are protected by Jesus’ name (Romans 8:1). Our accuser, the one who “accuses us day and night before God” has been “thrown down.” We have “conquered him by the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 12:10,11).

Let’s take a moment to consider each of the items of the armor we are given by God.

First, “fasten the belt of truth around your waist” (Ephesians 6:14). Truth holds our whole self together. Knowing what God says–knowing the reality of Christ’s grace, knowing that eternal truth–is what keeps us from being vulnerable to the devil’s lies.

Next, “put on the breastplate of righteousness” (Ephesians 6:14). The breastplate of a suit of armor protects the vital organs. It covers the heart. The righteousness of Christ does exactly that for us. Christ’s righteousness covers our hearts, cleanses our hearts (cf. Acts 15:9), makes our hearts new and alive (cf. Ezekiel 36:26), keeps our hearts safe and at peace with God (cf. Philippians 4:7).

Also, “take the shield of faith” and “the helmet of salvation.” Holding onto the precious gift of faith, we can “quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one” (Ephesians 6:16,17). Temptations seek to puncture our hopes and confidence. But the Spirit who inspires faith in us strengthens our resolve. And when various influences try to twist our minds away from God, the “helmet” that guards our thinking is God’s promise that “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come … will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38,39).

What will it look like when opposition to God’s goodness is threatening us? One commentator put it this way: “If the devil cannot overthrow our faith with one bold lie, he will try to wear it away, to condition us to compromise. … If he cannot seduce us into gross sin, he will try to lead us into Pharisaism” (I.Habeck, Ephesians, 1985, p. 128). Recall Satan’s method back at the beginning. He pressured Eve, while Adam was standing by, asking them, “Did God really say? Did he really give you such a command?” (cf. Genesis 3:1). And then it was, “God is holding out on you. He is trying to keep you from knowing what he knows” (cf. Genesis 3:4-5). Now that Christ has come to redeem us from our fall into sin, as often as not the temptation is, “Did God really give you his promise? Did he really say that you–puny and worthless you–are worthy of his love? Did he really say that you–sinning in all the ways that you do–are forgiven of every sin?” The devil’s big lie seeks to trap us in our guilt and shame and pull us down in despair.

Or the devil, the father of lies, master of twisting words and meanings, connives to make us just as dishonest as he is. We smile and wave and say hello to our neighbors, while inwardly harboring anger or jealousy. We aren’t really interested in our neighbors or their well-being, because we’re too wrapped up in our own concerns.

Or we are tempted to share in the devil’s arrogance, to think our way is the right way and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong. We become “holier than thou” in our attitude towards others. We look down on others. We look at people from a worldly and competitive point of view, rather than viewing every fellow human being from the perspective of Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:14-21). The influence of warped and devilish thinking on our lives isn’t only when we commit acts of violence or speak words of hatred. It also shows itself in indifference, in judgmentalism, in lack of concern and lack of action on others’ behalf.

You see how difficult our struggle is “against the spiritual forces of evil” that are in the air all around us (Ephesians 6:12). The devils’ ways are often insidious and subtle. We think we are being ok, upright and upstanding, making something of ourselves in this world. What we actually are doing all too often is becoming caught up in ourselves, concerned mainly about making ourselves well off, asserting our own agendas rather than thinking of others’ needs. All the while, Christ is calling us to follow his path and “do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than [ourselves]” … and look not to our own “interests but to the interest of others” (Philippians 2:3,4).

When our hearts are turned in the direction of our neighbors and our world, we find that Christ gives us also the weapons we need to go forward in our spiritual lives and advance his kingdom. We have “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17). With the Word of God we can cut down to size all opposing arguments and philosophies that run counter to the way of hope in Christ. Keep that in mind as the purpose of the Spirit’s sword. God’s word is not something to attack people with; our mission is not to beat down any person’s soul. The Word of God is something we use to cut through falseness and establish the truth, always for the good of others’ souls.

Image from Winston-Salem Journal 4-1-17

As we go forth in Christ’s name, as shoes for our feet, we wear “whatever will make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace” (Ephesians 6:15). We are ready to share the good news of Jesus, ready to step forward and rescue others from spiritual danger, ready to tell the truths that bring people out of darkness into the light. Wearing the full protection of the armor of God, we are ready to run, to do good, to be agents of mercy and bringers of peace.

Do you remember the battle between David and Goliath? When David was going to face that gigantic, menacing opponent, the army of Israel tried to put him in all their weighty battle armor. It was too heavy; David could not move in it. He rejected that human armor and went to face Goliath armed with just stones and a slingshot and the spiritual armor of God. David’s best defense was the shield of faith that he held as a believer in the Lord. The armor the Lord provides us is not a heavy burden; it does not bog us down. Remember what Jesus said of carrying him with us in our lives: “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30). When we wear the armor of Christ, our lives are livelier, our attitudes are lifted higher, our spirits run further and freer than we ever could when operating in worldly mode.

We become ambassadors of Christ in this world. When Paul wrote these words of encouragement for us (Ephesians 6:10-20), he was in chains, imprisoned, because his message was perceived as a threat by the powers that existed in the empire at his time. Yet his spirit soared in providing encouragement to the church then and to all Christians ever since. We are not in chains in our society today. We have tremendous freedom to speak our minds and speak the truth. So let’s put on our armor, the righteousness of Christ, and gear up to go out in our communities with faith and love to share.

“We do not wage war according to human standards” (2 Corinthians 10:2). The weapons we use are not the weapons of the world. Our weapons create peace and hope and life, not violence and despair and death. We speak with the gospel of Jesus. We wear the righteousness of God. Faith from the Spirit is our shield.

And as we go forth in Christ’s name, we also pray in his name. Another powerful weapon God gives us is prayer. The apostles urged us (cf. Ephesians 6:18-20) to pray in the Spirit at all times in every sort of petition to God concerning our spiritual task in this world. So in that spirit, let’s close these thoughts with a prayer:

Lord our God, we are strong because of your strength and power. We have life because of your life and grace. Arm us with your righteousness so that we are ready for each day’s battles. Protect us with your truth, with Spirit-given faith, and with your holy words. Make us ever alert to every opportunity to bring peace to others with your good news. Make each of us–and everyone who is active in ministry and witnessing–bold in our witness, so that the mystery of the gospel may be made known to more and more people with clarity and confidence. In Jesus, Amen.

Jun

2021

A suffering woman and a dead girl

Jesus is our Hope when Problems are Unsolvable

[Readings for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost: Lamentations 3:22-33, Psalm 30, 2 Corinthians 8:7-15, Mark 5:21-43]

Chances are, a number of you currently are experiencing or recently have experienced a loss, a hardship, some source of pain in your life. Just in terms of those who’ve lost a loved one, statistics say there are people reading this blog post dealing with that form of grief. “About 2½ million people die in the United States annually, each leaving an average of five grieving people behind” (The Recovery Village: Grief by the Numbers). In 2020, that number of deaths in the US was estimated at over 3½ million by the CDC’s National Vital Statistics System–the death toll expanded greatly due to COVID. An Associated Press poll conducted in March of this year found that 20% of people in the United States had lost a friend or close relative to COVID. “That means a potential bereaved population of about 65 million.” A psychiatrist at Columbia University warns that because of isolation due to the pandemic, a significant percentage of the bereaved could experience prolonged grief disorder, a condition of persistent grief that lasts longer and aches more deeply than the typical grieving process. Some studies have shown more than triple the typical rate of prolonged grief disorder have been occurring over this past year. (See “COVID Has Put the World at Risk of Prolonged Grief Disorder,” by Katherine Harmon Courage, May 19, 2021, in Scientific American.)

Those are some general truths, some national and international statistics. More than likely, some of you reading this are grieving over a loss, some are struggling with persistent pain, all know community members whose lives are hurting.

“Encounter” by Daniel Cariola, Magdala Chapel – https://www.magdala.org/

The Gospel account for this Sunday (Mark 5:21-43), from the days of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, shows powerful examples of persons dealing with grief and trauma … and their dependence on Jesus as their only hope. First there is the case of Jairus’ daughter, a young girl who should not become deathly ill, but who was deathly ill. Then, even as Jesus was on his way to Jairus’ home, the girl died. That did not stop Jesus from his desire or ability to help. We’ll say more about that momentarily. Meanwhile, Jesus was the only answer for a woman whose problem just would not go away, and she was at the end of her rope. She had been suffering for twelve years with “an issue of blood,” as the King James Version put it. Our translation says “hemorrhaging.” Modern scholars, assessing what may have afflicted her, deduce it was menorrhagia — “abnormally heavy and long menstruation that causes enough cramping and blood loss … that it makes normal daily activities impossible” (Nigerian Biomedical Science Journal, August 29, 2017). We feel anguish for that woman, experiencing such a condition for twelve years. Now think also of the social stigma that it placed on her in her culture. Jewish cultural norms, following the laws of Moses, stipulated that anyone with a bodily discharge (bleeding or secretion) was considered “unclean” and was to stay socially distanced till after the bleeding or discharge stopped. It was a religious rule but also something of a public health rule for the Jewish people back before anyone knew much about bloodborne pathogens protocols. So, on top of a chronic, frightening health problem, this poor woman was supposed to remain in something like COVID-19 lockdown when the community around her was not in lockdown. Think of the isolation and abandonment and frustration she must have felt. She seems to have been a woman of some means, and had spent every penny she had going to various doctors, trying to find a cure for her problem. But none of them could help her. Her condition only got worse. Coming to see Jesus was an act of desperation, her last hope. She’d heard about Jesus. She’d heard he could do miracles. So she violated the social distancing policies that prohibited her from going out into a crowded space. She made her way through the throngs of people following Jesus, hoping just to get close enough, thinking, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well” (Mark 5:28).

Indeed, the woman was made well from the moment she came in contact with Jesus. But Jesus did not want her to remain in hiding (or to hide from him). He stopped the crowd. He took note of the woman, who was afraid and confessed what she had done–which actually was a confession of faith. Jesus commended her and promised his ongoing presence with her. “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease,” Jesus said (Mark 5:34). Think a bit about the context too. Jesus was on his way to the home of a high-ranking person, Jairus, who was a leader of the local synagogue. And Jairus had a significant need for Jesus’ attention; his daughter was deathly ill. But Jesus paused to pay attention to the woman who just wanted a quick, incognito encounter and nothing more. She was like a person who comes to a church hoping against hope for something, sitting in the back row, not wanting to be noticed, but the Lord wants her to be noticed and wants people to care about her. No matter how insignificant we feel we are, no matter how ostracized or shoved aside by society, no matter how helpless we think our situation is, Jesus wants us to know we are welcome in his presence, that we are worthy of care and attention.

Gabriel von Max, “The Raising of Jairus Daughter” (1878) – Wikimedia Commons

And Jesus will care about us even when our situation is more dire than twelve years of incessant bleeding. For example, when a twelve-year old girl is dying–and even when she dies–Jesus does not turn away from helping. To everybody else in the situation with Jairus’ daughter, her death was the end of the story. People came from the family’s house to say Jesus need not be bothered anymore, because the girl was dead. When Jesus came to the house anyway and told the mourners the girl was only sleeping and he would wake her, they all laughed at him. But we see the ultimate power of Jesus and the reason he had come to be with us on this earth. Death is the ultimate problem that plagues us as human beings. The sicknesses we have point to our mortality, to the eventuality that we all die. The death of a child points out the cold reality of death in a particularly harsh way. But the shocking finality of death is the very reason Jesus became incarnate as a human being, to reverse that curse. As Scripture says, Jesus came down to our level “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.” Since we are beings of flesh and blood, he “shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Hebrews 2:9,14,15). Jesus’ actions healing the suffering woman and raising the dead girl are evidence of the healing and salvation he came to bring to all of us.

Maybe the problems you experience in your life aren’t exactly like the cases we looked at today, a woman hemorrhaging blood for twelve years, a family mourning the death of a child. Their experiences are examples within the range of so much human suffering that occurs. So many people experience deep hurts of so many kinds. In my years in the church, I’ve known …

dear souls who bore the scars of childhood sexual abuse for years and years in their adult lives …
dear souls who struggled with addiction …
dear souls who lost their jobs and struggled to maintain self-respect …
dear souls who experienced excruciating pain from terminal diseases …
dear souls who lost loved ones in senseless ways — in a car accident that occured on the way home from attending a funeral, or in a plane crash that occurred while attempting a stunt for a military air show.

In the work I’m doing now in human services, I encounter persons …

who need skilled nursing care and hospice care …
who need mental health hospitalization …
who have all manner of disabilities and need ongoing care and supports …
who are challenged by poverty and have little or no resources ….

So, while I don’t know exactly what you’re going through in your lives right now, chances are, there are losses, hardships, and no shortage of sources of pain. Maybe you feel like your soul has been bleeding for years and you don’t know how to make it stop. Where do you turn when the hurt in your life is constant, when the aches of your heart never really go away? Maybe you’ve tried everything–self-help books, practicing self-care, seeking professional help, any kind of help from anywhere and everywhere. And some things help some, but nothing is a complete cure. Only the hope we have for resurrection in Jesus can keep us going through the pains and losses and devastations that are so much a part of life on this earth. Jesus is our hope when our problems are otherwise unsolvable. Like the woman pressing through the crowd for even just a touch of the hem of his garment, we reach out to Jesus as our only eternal source of hope.

And how does that work–to reach out to be touched by Jesus when Jesus isn’t physically walking through the streets of your town? Certainly one way is in coming to church, where you gather to hear Jesus’ words and receive his touch through the sacraments. There’s another way, too, that I’d like to say a little something about before concluding this message. I’d like you to think about today’s Epistle lesson also (2 Corinthians 8:7-15), which maybe seemed to go in a different direction than the other readings of the day. Paul wrote to the Christians at Corinth: “As you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in your love for us—so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking” (2 Corinthians 8:7). The generous undertaking going on at that time was a special gathering of financial support for Christians elsewhere, particularly in the regions of Judea and Syria, who were experiencing food shortages and famine conditions. Actually, the original statement in Paul’s letter simply says, “We want you to excel also in this grace” — the Greek word charis (from which we get our English word “charity”). It’s somewhat limiting that in English we use the word “charity” (charis) mostly in terms of financial gifts. Scripture uses the same word not just for gifts of financial support but for the ultimate grace, God’s gift of his Son Jesus, the One and Only, to be our rescuer. Jesus now calls us to be gifts of grace to each other–with financial contributions, yes, but more than financial contributions. We become embodiments of Jesus to one another in our times of need.

At a church I was associated with in Texas some years ago, the congregation was in a bit of a financial crisis. A series of cottage meetings were planned, gathering members together in small groups at host members’ homes, to talk about how to address the financial crisis. At the first of those meetings, before getting to the stewardship agenda for the evening, there was an icebreaker activity planned, just to get people talking. Each person could respond to a prompt on the icebreaker card, which had prompts such as, “The most embarrassing moment in my life was ___________” … “One of my favorite vacations was _____” … “Something I’m praying about right now is ______,” and others. The first person at that first meeting started the conversation circle, choosing, “Something I’m praying about right now” and saying, “I’m praying for my daughter, who was just diagnosed with cancer.” There followed many minutes of fellow members showing concern for the woman, for her daughter, for her daughter’s husband and children, and actually engaging in prayer right there as a prayer circle. The next person in the circle then also chose to share something heavy on her heart, something she was praying about, and the members listened to her hurt and ministered to her as well. For over two hours that evening, the members shared their needs, consoled one another, prayed for one another. They never did get to the planned agenda about the church’s financial situation, and that was okay. They did what was important. The other cottage meetings that occurred in the days and weeks after that first one all followed the same pattern. The gathered members all focused on the prompt about what was heavy on their hearts, what they were praying about, and they acted as missionaries of gospel to one another, encouraging each other. Oh, and by the way, the church’s financial situation turned around too–because for the first time in a long time the members of the congregation began to realize the value of their ministry to one another and to others and, like Paul said, they began to excel also in that grace and in the generous undertaking of gifts to support needed ministry.

In the midst of famine and hunger, in the midst of grief and abandonment, in the midst of sickness and death, in the midst of all this world’s problems and pains, Jesus is our hope. And as brothers and sisters to one another in Jesus, we become miracles of grace and hope to one another as well.

Brothers and sisters, may Christ be with you as you endure whatever hurts or sorrows are happening in your life today and whatever troubles you may face in days to come. And may you be with one another in Christ, supporting each other, praying for one another, reminding each other of the gospel hope we share. We know our Redeemer lives, and that he will be with us when we are on our deathbeds, and that at the end, he will stand upon our graves, and that even after our skin has been destroyed, we will yet see God, we will be raised by Christ to be with Christ forever. How our hearts yearn within us! (Cf. Job 19:25-27.) Amen.

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Apr

2021

Raised up with Jesus

From fear to hope and newness of life

Bible readings for 3rd Sunday of Easter: Acts 3:12-19, 1 John 3:1-7, Luke 24:36-48

————

Are you afraid? A more precise question would be: What fears do you have? We all have fears to one degree or another. A lot of us have a lot of fears that dwell in our hearts and dominate our thinking. The past year of pandemic and political turmoil has pushed fears to the surface even more than before.

I’m afraid of COVID-19. People close to me have died due to that disease. So many people have died overall. I’m not a young man, and I have other risk factors. I’m grateful that I’ve been able to be vaccinated. But I fear we’re not out of the woods yet in dealing with the health threat of the pandemic. I also have other, underlying fears that keep bothering me. I worry about job security. I wonder if I’ll have sufficient funds when I get older and am no longer working. I want to know that my kids all will have stability and happiness in their lives and careers–and so much about the future is uncertain. I fear for our country. I fear for our world. There seems no end of economic uncertainty, societal controversies, international pressures and tensions … and the planet itself seems to be groaning and convulsing with environmental problems along with all our human problems (cf. Romans 8:19-23).

There have been studies and surveys done about what fears are troubling people the most. One survey showed that 83% of Americans fear that the next generation will be worse off than we are today. 76% are afraid we are losing democracy in America. 58% fear climate change will cause harm in the area where they live. A survey in another country, conducted during the pandemic, found that the vast majority of young adults feared losing a relative. More than half expressed a general anxiety about the future. A third of young adults said they were seriously or very seriously afraid that the worst was going to happen, with almost all the rest saying they moderately or somewhat felt that way. Less than 10% said they never feared that the worst was going to happen.

Beyond fears about the external world, we have deeper fears too, that linger in our souls. We have fears caused by our sense of guilt and shame. We’ve heard the news that we are forgiven, but we struggle to believe that news. We can’t shake the feeling that our past sins will come back to haunt us–maybe even eternally. Maybe we still have our doubts about eternity itself–if there is really life after death.

And when we do manage to hold onto faith, we waver in expressing our faith. We’re afraid that the people of this world and the powers in this world are set against us. We fear we’re not up to the challenge of living our beliefs openly in the community. We fear opposition. We fear ridicule. We fear being thought of as naïve or out of touch. We worry about our own inadequacies. We are immobilized by our uncertainties.

What does Jesus say to all our fears? You know what he says: “Peace be with you” (Luke 24:36). “Don’t be afraid,” (Matthew 28:10). He said such words when he appeared to the women who found his tomb empty and to his disciples when he appeared to them inside a locked room. I’ve heard it said that the phrase, “Fear not” or “Don’t be afraid” occurs 365 times in the Bible, once for every day of the year. Actually, if you account for the various Bible translations and many different words that describe our fears (anxiety, worry, trepidation, alarm, dread), the Bible actually talks about fear far more than 365 times. It is a constant theme of God’s word to us. He is our God; his love is our strength. So the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, melts our fears and guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (cf. Philippians 4:7). That doesn’t mean our fears aren’t real. It doesn’t mean fears cease to exist and we live blissfully unaware of any threats or worries. There is plenty to make us afraid, day after day. But the presence of the living, breathing, miraculous Savior Jesus enables us to overcome fear.

Think of the disciples as they cowered in hiding and did not know what to do in the days after Christ’s crucifixion. They weren’t out in the streets protesting the brutality of the Roman guards who had beaten and killed Jesus. They feared the Romans, and they feared their own community members who had demanded that Jesus should die. They didn’t know what to think when friends of theirs came hurrying back to Jerusalem to tell them Jesus was alive and had been with them while they were on the road. And when Jesus appeared again right there among them, they thought they were seeing a ghost. Jesus had to ask them for a piece of fish and eat it in front of them to convince them he was real and they weren’t hallucinating (cf. Luke 24:36-43).

Now think also of those same disciples some weeks later, at the festival of Pentecost and in the days thereafter. Having seen the risen Christ and being strengthened by his Spirit, they became bold enough to stand up and speak out about Jesus and his resurrection. Peter, who had bragged that he would never fall or back down (cf. Matthew 26:33), had crumbled into curses and denials when Jesus was put on trial. But then Peter saw Jesus risen from death (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:5) and was assured by Jesus that he remained in Jesus’ love and still had a place as an apostle for Jesus (cf. John 21:15-19). A new boldness took over in Peter–not one from his own bravado or self-confidence. Now he lived and spoke as a new person, changed by the power of Jesus’ resurrection. And Peter offered to people who had participated in the killing of Jesus the same path of redemption and forgiveness that he had experienced himself. Peter said to the people: “You handed over and rejected [Jesus] in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to release him. … You rejected the Holy and Righteous One … and killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. … And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. … Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out” (Acts 3:13-19).

When Peter told his fellow Israelites, “You killed the Author of life,” he wasn’t preaching from some high and mighty perch, seeing himself as better than his hearers. He knew well his own shame and guilt. He wanted others–even those complicit in the death of Jesus–to know the rejuvenating power of Jesus’ life. Those who believe in Jesus are brought to new life by Jesus.

We are believers in Jesus’ resurrection. Our confidence that there is a heavenly future for us comes from knowing that whoever believes in Jesus will live, even though we die (cf. John 11:25-26). We stake our lives–our eternal lives–on that promise of Jesus.

I wonder how much, though, we realize the power of Christ’s resurrection in our lives already now. From the moment we first believed, we crossed over from death to life (cf. John 5:24). From the moment we became baptized members of God’s family, our lives changed. We are not just called children of God; that is who and what we truly are, as John reminded us (1 John 3:1). Another apostle, Paul, said this also: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:3-4).

So, sin and death are no longer the dominant forces in our lives. The life of Christ is the power that is at work within us. The resurrection of Christ empowers us, enlivens us. If we ponder that, what does it mean for our current lives?

It means we stop seeing faith as if it is just knowledge, just a way of thinking. We come to understand that faith is a way of being. It is a life of faith that we lead, inspired and moved and guided by the Lord who went before us into death and came out alive again. Living by the power of Jesus’ resurrection means we are new creations (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). We don’t hang around in our old patterns of sin and shame and falling short. “No one who abides in Christ sins” (1 John 3:6). We strive now to do what is right, just as Jesus is righteous (cf. 1 John 3:7).

And if you think, “I’m not strong enough to do that, to be that person” … let me remind you that the “immeasurable greatness of God’s power,” the same power that God put “to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand” (Ephesians 1:19-21), is also the power that is now at work in you by faith.

So, what will it look like if our lives are empowered by Jesus’ resurrection? What will our character and conduct look like as witnesses for Jesus? Peter, who spoke the powerful words we heard earlier to his fellow people in Jerusalem, described well our life of witness in one of his letters to the church: “In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame” (1 Peter 3:15-16).

You don’t need to stand with a megaphone outside a busy coffee shop, haranguing about the evils in society and how all the coffee drinkers on the patio were causing the deaths of innocent souls. (I saw someone doing that on Saturday of Easter weekend, and he was not winning any converts for Christ by his methods.) Your witness for Christ comes from who you are in your daily life and how you speak with others in your daily life. When it is evident that you are warm and caring, that you are alive and eager, that you are full of hope and active in love, people will be drawn to you as a living witness for Christ, and you will have opportunities to speak with them of your faith in Christ. As Jesus himself urged us, everyone will know that we are his disciples by our love (cf. John 13:35).

We have our fears–and plenty of them. Things that cause fear and alarm keep coming at us relentlessly. Inevitably, in this world, we will have trouble. But we take courage in Jesus, who has overcome this world and its trouble (cf. John 16:33). We have life through Jesus and his power over death. Even when sick and ailing, even in the midst of fears and problems, even when facing death itself, we are alive through Jesus. That is our living hope (1 Peter 1:3), our constant way of being because of Jesus. And that will always be our strongest witness to the world–that we exude joy and hope and peace that rest in knowing Jesus. We are “convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39, nor from the life that we have now and eternally with him.

—–

Image credit: Newness of Life by listentothemountains on Flickr, Creative Commons License

Jan

2021

Spiritual resolve

by David Sellnow

The Harris Poll conducts surveys annually about people’s New Year’s resolutions. According to their recent survey, more Americans are making resolutions for 2021 than did so for 2020. Nearly half the population plans to make at least one resolution for the year ahead. Among younger adults (ages 18-39), the number of resolution-makers approaches 60%. What sorts of resolutions are people making? Some of the common ones are:
– exercise regularly;
– lose weight or manage weight;
– budget/save/invest money;
– practice more self-care;
– learn a new skill.

Resolutions like those aren’t altogether out of line with biblical thoughts. We are stewards of our bodies and minds, which are “fearfully and wonderfully made” by our creator (Psalm 139:14). We are like a city breached by invaders if we lack self-control (cf. Proverbs 25:28). We know money and resources should be handled carefully, as the proverb teaches: “Precious treasure remains in the house of the wise, but the fool devours it” (Proverbs 21:20). And caring for ourselves is implied in the second greatest commandment of God’s law: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31). Taking care of ourselves is necessary if we are going to care for our neighbors.

As people of faith, though, deeper resolves have a higher priority. Scripture focuses on spiritual resolve, on committing ourselves to the Lord who has committed himself to us. As we enter this new year, let’s consider some of the themes that align with what Jesus called the first and greatest commandment: “The Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). Allow me to set forth some themes (along with scriptures) that speak of our spiritual resolves.

Spiritual resolves for our lives in Christ

1. Cling to eternal hope

“If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead” (1 Corinthians 15:19,20). So, with clear resolve, we can stay strong in hope always. “God … gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore … be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:57,58).

2. Take hold of our calling as God’s children

That we are God’s children is a miracle of grace. It is because of God’s love “that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are” (1 John 3:1). Since God is our Father, we lay claim to our place with him. We “take hold of the eternal life to which [we] were called” (1 Timothy 6:12). We resolve to “lead a life worthy of the calling” we have received (Ephesians 4:1), knowing that we have been adopted as “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17).

3. Examine ourselves and repent

Before rushing to judgment of anyone else and accusing a neighbor of having clouded vision, we realize that there are log-sized splinters in our own eyes (cf. Matthew 7:1-5). “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:8,9). We resolve each day to “test and examine our ways and return to the Lord,” lifting up “our hearts as well as our hands to God in heaven” (Lamentations 3:40,41).

4. Give attention to what God says

In The Book of Common Prayer (1549), Archbishop Thomas Cranmer expressed the prayer that we “hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” God’s words for our lives, so that through those words “we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life.” A heart full of spiritual resolve will delight in God’s truth, saying, “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth” (Psalm 119:103). Members of Christ’s family will treasure the good news about what God has done and ponder such things in our hearts (cf. Luke 2:19).

5. Pray and labor in the Lord

The God who speaks to us in his Word also listens to our concerns. “When you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you,” he promises (Jeremiah 29:12), and affirms that our prayers are “powerful and effective” (James 5:16). As we set our hearts to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17), let’s resolve to pray not just for ourselves. There is a world in need of our concerted prayer and action. We want to offer “prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings … for everyone” (1 Timothy 2:1). And as we pray, we look for ways to be an answer to others’ prayers. Jesus urged seventy of his followers to “ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” as he was commissioning them to go out into communities in his name (Luke 10:1-9). So also as we pray, we will keep our eyes open for opportunities to be agents of God’s mercy to others, knowing that “to do good and to share what you have” and “to care for orphans and widows in their distress” are the sorts of things God considers pleasing sacrifices and the purest expression of our religious convictions (Hebrews 13:16, James 1:27).

May these sorts of resolves–rooted in our spiritual identity and putting into practice our spiritual priorities–be strong in our hearts this year and every year. “May the God of peace himself sanctify [us] entirely. … The one who calls [us] is faithful, and he will do this” (1 Thessalonians 5:23-24).

Dec

2020

Live in faith, not fear, as you wait for Jesus

A message for Advent

Based on readings from the first Sunday of Advent:

Isaiah 64:1-9
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37

Live in faith, not fear, as you wait for Jesus

This holiday season is difficult for families. Families want to be together, and the present times are keeping many families at a distance from each other. If you are a parent, you love your children. You want them to be with you. You long to be at home together with your children. You love them dearly, with a love that doesn’t diminish over time or depend on the things your children have done or haven’t done.

Parents, have you ever had a time when you went on a brief outing and left your children at home alone on their own? The children were at that age when they’re old enough to be left on their own … but also maybe not mature enough to always make the best choices. So you came home, and the children had made a mess or gotten into things they shouldn’t have. Or they had responsibilities or chores they were supposed to do, but they’d neglected those duties and played games instead. When you arrived home in such a situation, did you disown your children? Did you banish them from your household? I imagine you did not. You still loved them just as much. Their place as your children isn’t contingent on each instance of their behavior. You may have hoped to find everything in perfect order when you arrived home, but even with all their imperfections, your children are still your children. You’ll love them forever; you’ll like them for always. As long as you’re living, your babies they will be.*

Keep in mind an example like that when you think about Jesus coming back to us at the end of time. In this season of the year, we generally think of preparing to celebrate Christ’s first coming into our world, when he was born at Bethlehem. But the Advent season also reminds us that Christ will be returning to this world at the end of time. The Bible readings for the first Sunday in Advent focused on that. I urge you to focus on the common theme in those readings. We acknowledge that we are not perfect children of God. In fact, as Isaiah’s prophecy noted, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth” (Isaiah 64:6). But Isaiah also prayed (as we do), saying, “Yet, O Lord, you are our Father … we are all the work of your hand … we are all your people” (Isaiah 64:8,9). We may not always be faithful, but “God is faithful” (1 Corinthians 1:9). And he is the one who will strengthen us to the end, so that we “may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 1:8)–we can’t do that by ourselves. When the day of our Lord Jesus Christ comes, he will be coming to “gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven” (Mark 13:27). That’s the gospel message about Jesus coming back at the end of days. Jesus is coming back to us as his people. We are the children of God, and he is coming to take us home for eternity.

Sometimes Christian people lose sight of that hopeful gospel message and are afraid when they think about Jesus coming back. I once asked a group of students in a church class to write down their instinctive answer to this question: “When you think about Judgment Day, what do you think?” Some of the responses were these:

Fear of standing before God, answering for everything I have done.
It scares me if I think about it too much.
How am I going to face the Judgment Day?
I’m scared. I hope it goes quickly.

I once heard a preacher in a religious service pressure his hearers, warning sternly against being caught in the midst of a sin when Jesus returns. Many of his hearers went away from that service feeling frightened about their standing with Jesus, not comforted. My own impression was, “When could Jesus come back and not find us in the midst of sin?” We are always struggling with sin in our lives. We do things we shouldn’t do. We omit doing the things we should do (cf. Romans 7:23-25). We have sinful natures embedded in us (cf. Romans 7:14-20). But Jesus is the one who has rescued us from our sinfulness and gave us his righteousness (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:21). The one who is coming as the judge at the end of time is the same one who came into our world as Savior when “the fullness of time had come” for him to be “born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children” (Galatians 4:4-5). He’s not coming so he can say, “Gotcha!” if he catches us in some indiscretion, or if we happen to be taking a nap when he makes his appearance, rather than being busy helping a neighbor at that specific moment.

So don’t misunderstand the point of Jesus’ story about the man going on a journey who tells his servants to be sure they’re awake when he comes back (Matthew 13:32-37). What does it mean to be “awake”? Yes, we want to be alert. Yes, we want to be attending to what’s important in our daily lives as Christian people. But that’s a positive attitude, not one of fear. We are not constantly worrying, “Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing this right? Am I doing that right? Am I doing enough? Am I living my life perfectly enough for when Jesus comes back?”

The Gospel reading two weeks ago pictured someone who misunderstood the master’s instructions in a fear-filled way. Jesus spoke of a man who had received a talent (an amount of money) from his master. Rather than investing it or using it, he hid it in the ground, afraid that his master was a hard man who would punish him if he did anything wrong or failed to earn a profit (cf. Matthew 25:14-30). Living in fear of our master is not the way Jesus wants us to live. Jesus said that he came to set us free (cf. John 8:36). He said that he came that we might “have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). He does not want fears about what we are supposed to be doing or fears about his return paralyzing us. He wants us living freely by his Spirit.

One way I’ve pictured it is this: Let’s say you’re trying to play a game of basketball. You’re in the game, and all you’re thinking about is whether you’re doing everything correctly–from the rules of the game to every detail of your performance. You’re thinking, “Am I staying in bounds? Am I careful not to double-dribble? Do I have my hands holding the ball in the right way? Do I have proper form when shooting? Do I keep my elbow tucked in? Do I release the ball smoothly at the top of my shot? Did I follow through sufficiently?” You’re fixated on every little detail and fine point, and your focus is on yourself. Will you be much of a basketball player like that in a game situation? Probably not. The details are something you study, things you work on in a practice session. But in the game, a basketball player simply plays. You keep your focus on what’s happening on the court around you and you keep your eyes on the goal. You’re looking at the rim as you aim to make a basket, not analyzing if your hands are in precisely the right position on the ball.

So it is with our Christian life. We gather in church (or connect online) to study, to practice, to get ingrained into our mindset the truths of Christ and the way of life in Christ. But when we’re out there in our daily lives–“in the game,” so to speak–we simply run and do and live. We live in freedom as Christians. If we were standing apart from the ways of God or at odds with the ways of God then, yes, we’d have reason to fear the day he comes back to judge the earth. But we are standing with Christ; we are in Christ. We are God’s children. So we can live each day with confidence and hope, freely going about our activities as members of God’s family. That’s what it means to be “awake.” It means to live with faith always awake in our hearts–the faith, hope and love that God has awakened within us. We live with the constant assurance that our Savior is always with us, because he promised to be with us “to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). And we live in expectant anticipation of his return to take us home. Remember how Jesus told us to think about signs that the end of this world is drawing near. He said, “When these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28).

We are like children who are managing on our own while a parent is away, and when he comes back, we will still be his children even if we have made mistakes. We certainly want to live in such a way that pleases God, who is our Father through Jesus Christ. But the way to do that is not through anxiety over rules to be obeyed moment by moment. We live in freedom as Christians. As people who have been awakened by God’s Spirit, we simply live our lives by that same Spirit. When Christ, our Savior, arrives, he will see the faith which is in our hearts, not just whatever actions are occurring at that moment.

The apostle Paul described our outlook on life in words he originally wrote to Christians in the city of Philippi. His words are an encouragement for all of us to take the same view as we wait for Christ to come to earth once again:

Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. … I do not consider that I have made it my own, but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind; and if you think differently about anything, this too God will reveal to you. Only let us hold fast to what we have attained. Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. … Our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. … Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way (Philippians 3:12-4:1).

May we so stand firm, and anticipate with joy (not fear) the coming of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

* Reference to book Love You Forever by Robert Munsch

Jul

2020

We are his witnesses

by David Sellnow

A message referencing readings for the 7^th Sunday after Pentecost: Isaiah 44:6-8, Romans 8:12-25, Matthew 13:24-30

“Do you promise that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” We would expect to be asked a question like that in a courtroom, if we were asked to give testimony. That’s probably what we picture as what it means to be a witness. We think of it as something formal, something done in an official setting. I wonder if that image of what it means to be a “witness” confuses our understanding of what Jesus meant when he said, “You will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8).

I knew a church that had an evangelism committee that hadn’t yet done any evangelizing. The congregation knew they had a mission to tell God’s good news to others. So, they established an evangelism committee. That committee began meeting and studying about communicating the gospel. They continued in that study for two years and had not yet made any visits to anyone. The members of the committee were dutifully concerned that they would do everything right, say everything right. But their fear of speaking something inaccurate kept them from fulfilling their intention of giving witness to the Christian message. Do we maybe think that we must have specialized training before we can serve as witnesses?

I wonder also if we consider what we do inside the church as the primary witness of the church. Have we been depending too much on the church itself (as an institution) to be the witness, rather than we ourselves, the people of the church, as the witnesses? We’ve probably worried that the current health emergency (COVID-19) will reduce the church’s witness. We look at our church buildings, which now must limit the number of persons in attendance, as the main place of witnessing. But at the time when God spoke through Isaiah and said, “You are my witnesses” (Isaiah 44:8), there were no churches, no synagogues. For the half of history when the nation of Israel was called upon to be “a light to the nations,” and extend God’s salvation “to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6), they did not do so through local congregations. Solomon’s temple had been built as the singular place of worship. It was not until more than a century after Isaiah, after Solomon’s temple was destroyed by the Babylonians (six centuries before Christ), that the Jewish people began to establish synagogues as places for religious instruction. Israel was God’s witness in the world long before they had local synagogues to spearhead that effort.

So also, when Jesus said, “You will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8), there were at that time no Christian church buildings. Christians in the first decades after Jesus’ ascension met together in people’s homes, in public spaces, in whatever meeting place they could find. The people themselves were a driving force of the spread of Christianity in those early days, along with the activity of the apostles. They were his witnesses. Even when believers in Jesus were persecuted and scattered, they continued to live their faith and speak about Christ wherever they went (cf. Acts 8:1-4).

Maybe the present difficulty for churches gathering inside our own buildings will remind us of the essential role each of us has in our everyday contacts outside with people–wherever and however those contacts can occur within a socially distanced environment. In Jesus’ parable of the sower (Matthew 13:1-9), we hear how God sows his word liberally everywhere–almost seeming like someone who is wasting his seed because so much falls in places where it doesn’t take root. But it isn’t a waste. It’s how God’s word works. It finds its way into hearts according to God’s timing, not ours, according to his will, not ours. As witnesses of God’s truth, we sow seed in that way. We spread our witness all around us, all the time, every day, wherever we are, in whatever we do or say. Being a witness is, in many ways, about simply exuding who we are as God’s people. Our identity as God’s people will be something others will notice.

Think of the way our daily existence was described in Paul’s letter to the Romans (8:12-16): “So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh … If by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”

Paul went on (Romans 8:18-25) to describe the constant hope in which we live as children of God, hope for the future, hope for redemption, enduring hope even in the face of whatever suffering we may suffer now. That kind of hope, that confidence that God is good and always cares for his people–that’s what we witness to others by the ongoing attitude we embody and demonstrate.

But what if the attitude evident in people who say they are Christians is not consistently illustrating God’s redeeming grace? About a dozen years ago, Barna Group president David Kinnaman, partnered with Gabe Lyons, another leader in looking at trends concerning Christianity and culture. They engaged in three years of research across the United States. They surveyed and interviewed thousands of young adults (ages 16-29) outside of the church, asking about their perceptions of Christians and Christianity from an outsider’s point of view. In the book detailing what they learned (Baker Books, 2007), Kinnamon and Lyons said: “Christianity has an image problem. … Our research shows that many of those outside of Christianity, especially younger adults, have little trust in the Christian faith, and esteem for the lifestyle of Christ followers is quickly fading among outsiders. … [Outsiders] reject Jesus because they feel rejected by Christians.” Kinnaman and Lyons titled the book unChristian because that “reflects outsiders’ most common reaction to the faith: they think Christians no longer represent what Jesus had in mind” (p. 11,15). One of the biggest perceived problems is that Christians are not, for the most part, loving people. According to the research, “nearly nine out of ten outsiders (87 percent) said that the term judgmental accurately describes present-day Christianity.” They elaborated: “To be judgmental is to point out something that is wrong in someone else’s life, making the person feel put down, excluded, and marginalized. … Being judgmental is fueled by self-righteousness, the misguided inner motivation to make our own life look better by comparing it to the lives of others” (p. 182). One of the young people interviewed summed it up this way: “Christians talk about love, but it doesn’t feel like love. I get the sense they believe they are better than me” (p. 192).

That’s a stinging indictment, and maybe we feel that’s unfair. But the impression that Christians are more judgmental than they are loving was something even young people within the church said was true. According to the research, more than half (53 percent) of 16 to 29 year-old Christians also agreed that “the label judgmental accurately fits present-day Christianity” (p. 183). And in the years since unChristian was published, those trends have continued. Between 2009 and 2019, the percentage of young adults (those in their 20s and 30s) who identify as Christians declined by 16% in America, a greater drop-off than any other age group, according to findings by the Pew Research Center.

How is it that the church’s witness is giving off such a negative impression and turning away even many of our own young people? Maybe churches too often have forgotten what Jesus taught in the parable of weeds among the wheat (Matthew 13:24-30). In an overzealous desire to keep the church pure of any “weeds,” churchy people point out anything they see as unrighteous in anyone else and try to rid the Lord’s harvest field of any plant that isn’t perfect. Jesus told us not to do that. “No,” he said, “for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest” (Matthew 13:29,30). It will be God’s responsibility at the final judgment to separate “weeds” from “wheat,” those who are faithless from those who have trusted in him. Exercising final judgment over another human soul is not our responsibility; it is in God’s hands. Our task is to nurture and tend to every person as someone who may grow to be one of God’s children.

Our witnessing isn’t about us. It’s not about how tidy and well-groomed we can keep our little corner of the whole earthly garden where God is seeking to grow believers. It’s about extending God’s goodness to all people. It’s about God’s Spirit inspiring a spirit of mercy in us, not a judgmental spirit. As Jesus’ brother James taught us: “You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’” understanding that “mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:8,13). Being witnesses of the good news of our God means letting his gospel grow unimpeded, without letting ourselves and our judgmentalism get in the way.

There’s another way that we stumble over ourselves and get in our own way as witnesses. When we hear Jesus say, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16) – what do we think of as the “good deeds” that people are to see in us? Do we think people are watching to see how often our cars are in the church parking lot? Do we think people are listening to make sure no foul language ever slips out of our mouths?

It’s like the church committee I mentioned before that thought they had to prepare a flawless script if they were going to do witnessing. It’s not about whether we say everything perfectly. In our own less-than-perfect ways, we just keep pointing to the one who is perfect for us. It’s not that we know all the answers. We show others the one who holds us in his mercy even when we struggle to answer life’s hardest questions. The same principle holds when it comes to our behavior as God’s witnesses in this world. It’s not about showing our neighbors how righteous we are. It’s not about how much we pray in public places. You may recall that Jesus said, “When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others” (Matthew 6:5). Jesus called out people who tried to look perfect in public as “whitewashed tombs — which on the outside look beautiful” but inside they are full of deadness and hypocrisy (Matthew 23:27-28). That’s not the sort of witness Jesus calls for.

What did Jesus say? “Everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The witness we give to the world of who God is and what God is like is shown by the love we show to others. How much grace is in our souls, evident in the way we treat every person we meet? After all, if we could speak as perfectly as angels, but do not have love, we are like banging gongs or clanging cymbals (cf. 1 Corinthians 13:1). The world doesn’t need self-congratulatory noise from Christian people. The world needs our consistent, faithful, loving witness. The world needs embodied, lived, expressed testimony of God’s grace in action through us. “God is love” (John 4:16). Living in love thus is the primary ingredient in our witness. By our love we give witness to a Father who loves the whole world so much that he gave us his Son. By our love, we give witness to Christ, who gave up his own life, “the righteous for the unrighteous” (1 Peter 3:18). By our love we give witness to the Spirit of God, whose fruit–the things the Spirit produces–are “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22,23).

Isaiah’s prophecy announced the truth centuries ago. There is no other god besides “the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer” (Isaiah 44:6). There is no other rock, no other solid ground to stand on, no other source of love so strong and so deep. And the Lord, the King, our Redeemer says to us, “You are my witnesses” (Isaiah 44:8). May we, as his witnesses, live up to what we sing in a familiar song:

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,
And we pray that all unity will one day be restored.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love;
Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

– Father Peter Scholtes, “We Are One in the Spirit” (1966)

Scripture quotations are from New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Jan

2020

God came to a world in need

Originally posted on The Electric Gospel on December 29, 2019.

God came to a world which needed him

by David Sellnow

It was a time when international power dwarfed the day to day lives of everyday people. The world managed to avoid an all-engrossing global war; there was a general peace, of a sort. But that peace was maintained only by fear of what giant military might could do. Meanwhile, outbreaks of violence and suppression of revolution regularly dotted the map.

It was a time when political rulers made promises to appeal to the masses, while at the same time doing what was most advantageous for maintaining their own rank and position. The most brutal leaders would go as far as using imprisonment or death to eliminate threats to their power.

It was a time when a fraction of the world’s population controlled the bulk of the worlds’ wealth, and the poor and working classes struggled to maintain their existence.

It was a time when women were dominated by men and had to navigate societal institutions in which men held sway, and when dominant peoples and groups subjugated minority populations and disadvantaged groups.

It was a time when differing religious and philosophical systems competed for people’s loyalties. Some beliefs were accepted in society; others were ostracized. Persons could be persecuted for following beliefs that went against accepted norms, and attacks by one religious group on another were not uncommon.

It was the world of the Roman Empire at the beginning of the Common Era. Augustus ruled as Caesar, maintaining the Roman peace by the force of Roman armies. Augustus famously would bemoan the loss of some of his legions in battle vs. Germanic tribes in the Teutoberg Forest, but in most places, Rome ruled with an iron fist. They also granted leeway to local rulers that served their purposes, such as Herod in the province of Judea. Herod was the kind of man willing to slaughter even babies in order to protect his own position (cf. Matthew chapter 2). In the Roman world in those days, the top 1½% of the population controlled 20% of all existing wealth, according to Walter Schiedel and Steven Friesen, writing in The Journal of Roman Studies (Volume 99, November 2009). The majority of individuals eked out a living, and as many as one in five persons across the empire were held in slavery (Ancient History Encyclopedia). Religions and philosophies varied across the empire, while at the same time a cult of religious reverence for the emperor himself was beginning to take shape.

It was into this sort of world that God intervened with his incarnational presence. Jesus was born, God in the flesh, as God’s response to all that was (and is) wrong with the world. In response to brute power, God displays his power in love through the gift of Christ. In response to an economy of inequality, God establishes mercy and charity as the way for persons to interact with one another. In response to religious division and confusion and worship of persons and things of this world, God offers a Savior who answers all persons’ religious hopes.

The descriptions at the beginning of this message about what the world was like in those days may well have reminded you of what the world is like in our time today. That’s not surprising. “There is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9). The good news is that the Savior, Jesus Christ—who entered our world in those days when “Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world” (Luke 2:1) and when Herod ordered the death of all baby boys in Bethlehem because it was said the King of the Jews had been born there (Matthew 2:2-8, 16)—Jesus remains God’s gift to the world today and always.

It is not with perishable things such as silver or gold (or any material things) that we are redeemed from the empty way of life that is otherwise common to the human race. Our redemption is in Christ, who was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for our sake. Through him we believe in God, and so our faith and hope are in God (1 Peter 1:18-21).

Jan

2020

Faith cries out

Originally posted on the Electric Gospel on November 10, 2019.

Faith cries out

by David Sellnow

What happens inside your soul when crisis or disaster strikes your life? How do you feel? What do you say? Let me share with you words of pain from someone whose faith was put to the test by devastating losses. When life hurts, have you ever screamed thoughts like this?

“Why didn’t I die at birth, my first breath out of the womb my last? … I could be resting in peace right now, asleep forever, feeling no pain.”
“I hate this life! Who needs any more of this?”
“God, how does this fit into what you once called ‘good’? … Can’t you let up, and let me smile just once …before I’m nailed into my coffin, sealed in the ground, and banished for good to the land of the dead?”
“Please, God … address me directly so I can answer you, or let me speak and then you answer me. How many sins have been charged against me? Show me the list—how bad is it? Why do you stay hidden and silent? Why treat me like I’m your enemy?”
“My spirit is broken, my days used up. … I can hardly see from crying so much. … My life’s about over. All my plans are smashed, all my hopes are snuffed out.”
“Why do the wicked have it so good, live to a ripe old age and get rich? … Their homes are peaceful and free from fear; they never experience God’s disciplining rod.”
“God has no right to treat me like this—it isn’t fair! If I knew where on earth to find him, I’d go straight to him. [But wherever I go, he’s not there.]”
“People are dying right and left, groaning in torment. The wretched cry out for help, and God does nothing, acts like nothing’s wrong!”
“I shout for help, God, and get nothing, no answer! I stand to face you in protest, God, and you give me a blank stare! … What did I do to deserve this? … Haven’t I wept for those who live a hard life, been heartsick over the lot of the poor? But where did it get me? I expected good but evil showed up. I looked for light but darkness fell. My stomach’s in a constant churning, never settles down. Each day confronts me with more suffering. I walk under a black cloud. The sun is gone.”

Have you ever had thoughts like that in the midst of trouble? If you have, does that mean you aren’t a good Christian? If you scream at God when you feel like God has disappeared from your world, have you failed the test of faith? Should you be more like Job, famous for his faith when afflicted with suffering? He lost his family (his adult children were killed). He lost his wealth. He lost his health. And yet he spoke with rock-solid conviction. Job’s famous words were written down and inscribed in a book forever: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another” (Job 19:25-27 NRSV).

Perhaps you are more like Job than you realize. All of the words I quoted to you at first — words of complaint, of accusation against God, of desperation and wanting to be dead — those all were words of Job. (Bible quotations were from The Message, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Referenced verses – Job 3:11,13; 7:16; 10:3,20-22; 13:20-24; 17:1,7,11; 21:7,9; 23:2-3,8-9; 24:11-12; 30:20-28.)

Job’s words of resurrection confidence are surrounded in Scripture by many words of grief and doubt and heartache. People speak of “the patience of Job” — and yes, the patience of a faithful heart remained alive in Job. But that patience of faith existed in the midst of the frayed nerves and tortured soul of a life under horrible strain. Job’s wife is often criticized for telling her husband to “curse God and die” (Job 2:9) when everything fell apart for them. But I’m sympathetic toward Job’s wife. She was a mother who lost her children and could not be comforted. Her heart was overwhelmed with pain. And Job, too, struggled with that pain. Job wrestled with God in his heart, and went back and forth in his thoughts. The same person who expressed all the anger and hurt I shared with you a few moments ago also said:

“Even if God killed me, I’d keep on hoping.” (Job 13:15 The Message)
“All through these difficult days I keep hoping, waiting for the final change—for resurrection!” (Job 14:14 The Message)
“Where then does wisdom come from? And where is the place of understanding? … God understands the way to it, and he knows its place. … Truly, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.” (Job 28:20,23,28 NRSV)

Isn’t that the way that faith is in our lives? We go back and forth in our thoughts, between hurt and hope. We cry out to the Lord, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) If you read the Psalms, you’ll hear words of joy and praise as well as words of anguish and questioning. If you listen to Jesus himself, hanging on the cross, you’ll hear him scream, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34) as well as, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46 NRSV). You’ve likely seen this same thing in the lives of Christians you have known, or in your own hearts as God’s people fighting the good fight of faith. I’ve sat with a woman outside the intensive care unit, where her husband was going through organ failure after diabetes had done decades worth of damage to his body. I’ve sat with the family of an Air Force colonel who died in a tragic plane crash — not in battle, but while assigned to supervise younger pilots practicing for an air show. Things happen that seem senseless, merciless, unfair, intolerable. We cry out in distress and anguish, and at the same time call out to God in hope. When God seems to have abandoned us, that’s when we cling most urgently to his promise that he never will leave us, never will forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5).

Martin Luther spoke often about how God reveals himself to us in hidden ways, in the midst of pain and suffering and the cross. We tend to want God to show himself by big and bold and obvious blessings happening in our lives. But more often, God’s deepest work on our hearts happens through difficult things we don’t want to endure. In his Heidelberg theses (which he composed when under pressure to defend his teachings), Martin Luther said this:

“Now it is not sufficient for anyone and does no good to recognize God in his glory and majesty, unless he recognizes him in the humility and shame of the cross. Thus God destroys the wisdom of the wise, as Isaiah 45:15 says, ‘Truly, you are a God who hides himself.’”

God’s greatest work in this world was accomplished when God seemed to be absent from the scene, when Jesus was hanging on a cross, dying in shame, with people shouting obscenities at him. That’s not where people thought they’d find God. Yet that was how God had chosen to show himself and to save the world, through Jesus’ suffering. And in our own lives too, we are drawn closer to God, made more dependent on God, when facing life’s agonies and, ultimately, death. So when the difficult days come, yes, we will cry, we will scream, we will hurt. But we also will trust God is working in his own mysterious ways to draw us closer to himself and to draw us on in the direction of heaven. Because ultimately, “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1 NRSV).

The fact that we have faith doesn’t make us immune to hurt. Sometimes we forget that. I’ve known some Christians who’ve undergone a great loss or catastrophe, and they paste on a smile because they think a Christian should never be sad. They don’t allow themselves to grieve because they think grieving would mean they weren’t expressing hope. They may shed a tear at the funeral, but the day after they expect themselves to be putting all the sadness behind them. That’s an artificial understanding of our Christian hope. We don’t pretend we aren’t hurting. We acknowledge the full reality of pain and suffering, of sin and death, of the grave and loss. And at the same time, we cling to hope in the power of the resurrection. Think of Jesus, who broke down in tears when his friend Lazarus died – even while he knew he was going to raise Lazarus back out of his grave. Jesus felt death’s pain even when he had the power to overturn death. We need not gloss over the ugliness and bitterness of awful things that happen to us in this world. In the midst of that ugliness, we still seek God’s face (Psalm 105:4) and believe in his mercy.

When you’re facing loss, hardship, heartache, tragedy, it’s normal for you to cry out in pain. The great patriarch Job cried out again and again, begging God for answers. God remained silent for a time, but he did hear Job and he did finally answer him. And God hears you when you cry too. God is helping you even when you have a hard time feeling his support. He reminds you of his promises. His Spirit helps you hang on and have hope. Maybe you don’t have the patience of Job. Then again, even Job didn’t have the patience of Job! But all of us, as God’s people, will join with Job in confessing our faith. We say:

“I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another” (Job 19:25-27 NRSV).

That is our confidence, our cry of faith, even when this life is so often so full of so much pain. We cry with hurt, but we also cry with hope. How our hearts yearn within us!

We wait for the Lord — hopefully, patiently, responsibly

Christian Comfort in the Face of Death

We are armed against evil and go forth with God’s truth

Jesus is our Hope when Problems are Unsolvable

From fear to hope and newness of life

Spiritual resolves for our lives in Christ

Live in faith, not fear, as you wait for Jesus

God came to a world which needed him

Faith cries out

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