hope

Apr

2022

An Easter message

Life is eternal in Jesus

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, the first fruits of those who have died (1 Corinthians 15:19,20).

Maintaining our hope in life can be extremely challenging. In my own circle of contacts, I have known a family (mother and two daughters) that died in a house fire. I’ve sat in the ICU waiting room with a soon-to-be widow, whose husband’s body was shutting down and whose kidneys were failing after a lifelong struggle with diabetes. I knew a young bride-to-be whose fiancé died in his sleep before they were married, for no apparent cause. I’m sure each of you has known families and individuals who have experienced heartache and struggle and loss; likely, you’ve experienced tests of faith in your own household. Life in this world has many days of joy, and many days of ordinary routine … but, all too often, also has so many problems and so much pain. It can be hard to hold onto hope in day-to-day affairs. Where is hope when your car gets stolen by thieves whose only purpose is to post reckless driving videos on social media? When the job you worked in for decades tells you they’re downsizing and you’re done? When your spouse or life partner walks away, abandons you? When your doctor tells you the prognosis is not good? When wars and pandemics can turn our world upside down in a matter of days? Well-meaning friends may try to console us, saying, “Whenever God closes a door, he opens a window.” But we want to shout back, “All I see are boarded-up windows everywhere. And if there is a window, it’s a hundred feet off the ground; if I try to go in that direction, I’ll fall and be crushed.” When the worst happens–when a life ends and we lose a loved one–we want to hope for a reunion one day in the next life. But we have our doubts about that too. It’s just so hard to believe.

Think of what it was like for Jesus’ friends and followers when he died. Even though they had witnessed the astonishing miracles he had done, his death had crushed their hopes. They’d seen him multiply a handful of food into enough to feed thousands. They’d seen him give sight to the blind and cure incurable diseases. They’d seen him bring dead persons back to life. He gave a dead girl back to her father alive (cf. Luke 8:49-56). He gave a dead son back to his widowed mother, turning a funeral procession into a celebration of life (cf. Luke 7:11-17). He restored his friend, Lazarus, to his sisters Mary and Martha, after Lazarus had been in the tomb already four days (cf. John 11). Jesus’ disciples had every reason to be confident in Jesus’ power over everything, including death. But their confidence was shattered when they saw Jesus arrested, tried, beaten, whipped, convicted as a criminal, crucified, dead, and buried. The disciples of Jesus were devastated. On Sunday morning, when women who had gone to the tomb reported that the stone was rolled away and the tomb was empty and they had seen angels who said Jesus was alive again, for Jesus’ apostles, “These words seemed an idle tale, and they did not believe them” (Luke 24:11). In the evening on that day, the disciples of Jesus were still not sure what to think. They met behind locked doors out of fear (cf. John 20:19). They feared the same sort of horrors that Jesus suffered awaited them from a hostile community. Jesus needed to appear to them personally, alive and well, before they were able to believe the good news of the resurrection–even though Jesus had told them in advance this is what would happen. The experience of Thomas, who was not with them when they saw Jesus, was essentially the same experience all the disciples had. Thomas said, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in [the spear wound in] his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). They all had been that way. The reality of the resurrection was so unbelievable, they needed to see to believe.

We struggle in that way too. We don’t visibly see the souls of our loved ones being welcomed into the arms of God in heaven. We haven’t personally witnessed anyone come back from the dead. We want to believe that decayed or cremated remains can be remade and reinvigorated by God, resurrected to life everlasting. But believing is so, so hard.

The message of Easter is the message that Jesus gave a week later when he appeared to his disciples again, this time with Thomas there too. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe” (John 20:29). Those who have not yet seen and yet have come to believe–that’s us. It was hard for the friends and followers of Jesus–who knew him in person as a human being on this earth–to come to believe in him as the eternal Son of God and as the Lord who could come back even after he was brutalized, lifeless, and buried. But they saw Jesus, who “presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs” (Acts 1:3), and the unbelievable became the rock-solid foundation of their faith. By the Spirit’s power to change hearts and minds, Jesus’ disciples’ faith in the resurrection became a witness to the world of the reality of Jesus’ power.

It is hard for us–as believers in Jesus today–to hold onto hope and faith in the face of the death of our loved ones, in the face of the struggles of our lives and the troubles of our world. But we rely on the word of the apostles who saw Jesus alive. Peter said, “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty” (2 Peter 1:16). And Peter assured us, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls (1 Peter 1:8-9). We have confidence in the testimony of those who were led by Jesus, who witnessed his death, and saw him alive again, and watched him ascend back into the sky (cf. Acts 1:6-11). Those first disciples of Jesus were threatened, persecuted, and even killed because they stood by their confession of his resurrection with confidence. That’s how sure they were. We have those sure promises of God, which the apostles and prophets have shared with us (cf. Ephesians 2:19-20). God guarantees his promises of life forever are true. God’s promises are our reason for hope when life becomes a struggle, when death overtakes persons that we love, when the events of our world are more chaos than calm.

“We believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died” (1 Thessalonians 4:14). That is our hope. That is our faith. That is what enables us to keep going from one day to the next, and what enables us to face even our last days with confidence. We have been given “a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3).

Lord, we believe; help us overcome our doubts (cf. Mark 9:23-24).

Prayer: Lord of heaven and earth, help us when we experience pain and loss in our lives here on earth. Help us to have a view that includes all of life—all the way to eternal life in heaven with you. Enable us to endure sadness and tragedies by clinging to the living hope that you have given us—the hope of an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade, kept in heaven for us (cf. 1 Peter 1:4). Trusting in Jesus’ resurrection, we pray. Amen.

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, 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.

Mar

2022

Patience

A meditation focused on Psalm 129

PATIENCE

See Psalm 129 in The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language by Eugene Peterson

Have you heard the apocryphal story about the woman who asked her pastor to pray for patience for her? Let’s hope it’s not a true story, because it would be terrible ministry practice. (Cf. article by Tim Harvey in The Messenger, 11/13/2019.)

The story goes like this:

A woman came to see her pastor. She said, “I am struggling with losing my patience. I get so frustrated dealing with my kids. At work, the policies and procedures and red tape infuriate me. When standing in line at the grocery store, I get agitated and just want to scream. Pastor, would you pray for me, that I can learn to be more patient?”

“Sure,” her pastor replied, and began to pray: “Lord, give this woman trouble and pain. Bring about times of distress and difficulty. Cause her to suffer …”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The woman interrupted. “Please stop! I didn’t ask for you to pray for me to have pain and suffering. I asked you to pray for patience for me.”

The pastor took a Bible off the desk (King James Version, of course), opened to Romans chapter 5, and read: “We glory in tribulations … knowing that tribulation worketh patience” (Romans 5:3 KJV). If you want patience, what you need is more suffering.

I hope no pastor would take such an insensitive approach. There is, though, a grain of truth to consider. Scripture does say we welcome sufferings when they come, “knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Romans 5:3-4). God doesn’t take pleasure in seeing us suffer; he loves us and strengthens us with his Spirit (Romans 5:5). When powers and people in this life kick us around and knock us to the ground, we hang on to hope in God’s promises. We trust he is working to deepen our relationship with him, build our resilience over struggles, and prepare us for an eternal reward as people called to be his own.

Our natural tendencies do not tend toward patience. As Pastor Eugene Peterson put it in his book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, we are people who are constantly “whining and chattering … and running and fidgeting,” which causes us to miss listening to the slow, calm, merciful words and ways of God (p. 114). “The way of the world is peppered with brief enthusiasms” (p.123), of chasing after one thing and then another, because this world is a temporal, temporary, wibbly-wobbly sort of place. That which is enduring and permanent–that which is everlasting–can only be found in relationship with God. But that’s not what counts to us when we’re always tracking daily stock prices and quarterly business reports and scrolling what’s trending on social media and what’s streaming on our TVs or tablets or all the other devices we’ve accumulated to occupy our time.

Our chronic impatience–our pursuit of “brief enthusiasms”–spills over into spiritual life too. For example, a number of years ago, I attended a concert in Houston. The headline act was Leon Patillo, who had been lead singer for Santana. He had found Jesus and turned to making Christian contemporary music. His vibe was bouncy and boisterous, like you’d have heard in dance clubs, except with lyrics full of “Praise God!” and “Hallelujah!” Oodles of young kids had come to party to his synthesizer sounds, and they were bored with the opening act (the person I had actually come to see). His name was Michael Card. Those of you in my age bracket may recognize his name as the songwriter of “El Shaddai,” “Love Crucified Arose,” and other thoughtful songs focusing on the life of Christ revealed in the Gospels. Midway through his brief portion of the show, as the young people were impatient for the headline act to take the stage, Michael Card paused and spoke sincerely to the audience. He said, “Christian life is not one big party; I want you to realize that. We are not here only to jump and sing and dance, but to struggle in the name of Jesus as we proclaim him to the world.” And then he read from Philippians chapter 3 (verses 10-11): “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Michael Card had it right. Jesus does not promise us constant fun or problem-free living on this earth. He does promise inner joy that transcends outward circumstances, life forever to those who endure and overcome.

Psalm 129 has a message of a similar mood. Worshipers on their way up to Jerusalem would sing this song, remembering their history as a people, trusting God’s enduring faithfulness to them, and praying that the enemies of God’s people would be thwarted.

Think of the patience needed to be an Old Testament believer in the promises of God.

Abraham was promised by God that he would be the father of a great nation, bringing about blessings through him and his descendants (Genesis 12:1). He was 75 years old at the time (Genesis 12:4). The promise was laughable. Then, Abraham was made to wait 25 years before the miraculous promise was fulfilled and the son Isaac was born, when he was 100 years old and his wife Sarah was 90 (cf. Genesis 17:17, 21:5-7).
Jacob was promised that the land inhabited by Abraham, his grandfather, and Isaac, his father, would become the homeland of that nation of their descendants (Genesis 35:11-12). Then, in his old age, Jacob and his whole extended family needed to emigrate to Egypt to survive a time of famine (cf. Genesis 42-47). Not until a couple hundred years later did the Israelites, as a people, exit Egypt and go back to the promised land.
The history of Israel from that point forward wasn’t easy either. In the days of the Judges, the people faltered in their faithfulness and experienced a series of attacks against them by surrounding peoples such as the Moabites, Midianites, Canaanites, Ammonites, and Philistines. During the time of the Kings, forces that opposed God’s plans for his people continued to afflict them from both inside and outside their nation. Eventually, the northern tribes of Israel fell under the domination of the empire of Assyria, and then the southern tribes (the nation of Judah) fell to the empire of Babylon. Some think that Psalm 129 may have been composed during the time of exile in Babylon or after Jewish exiles returned from there decades later.

With that history of Israel’s struggles in mind, the psalm writer reminisces: “They’ve kicked me around ever since I was young”–so says Israel–”but they never could keep me down” (Psalm 129:1,2 MSG). In poetic imagery, the psalm sees the history of Israel as if others were driving plows up and down their back, ripping deep into their flesh. Yet they were not destroyed. They were not defeated. God kept coming to Israel’s aid, “ripping the harnesses of the evil plowmen (Israel’s enemies) to shreds” (Psalm 129:4 MSG), rescuing his people.

When I read Psalm 129’s description of how the enemies of Israel were gouging and ripping up the back of the people of Israel, I can’t help but think of another image of suffering. Jesus Christ went through an ordeal of suffering. We call it “The Passion of the Christ” because suffering is the original meaning of the Latin term passio. When Jesus was brought before the Jewish authorities as an enemy of the people, those “who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, ‘Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?’” (Luke 22:63-65). Jesus was then dragged before the Roman governor Pontius Pilate as an enemy of the empire. Though there was no basis to the charges against Jesus, Pilate had him flogged–at two points during the process, it seems (cf. John 19:1 and Matthew 27:26, Mark 15:15). The 2004 movie, The Passion of the Christ, dramatized how gruesome scourging by Roman soldiers could be. Mel Gibson’s original theatrical release of the film dwelt on that torture scene for ten minutes. Subsequent editions of the film cut five minutes of the goriest visuals, because viewers and critics had found it too horrible to watch. If the image of it is too horrible for us to endure, what of the horror endured by Jesus himself, actually experiencing such a thing? And then experiencing the horrors of crucifixion, slowly suffocating to death? And the horror of soul in bearing all the weight of humanity’s separation from God as an act of atonement for us, causing him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)?

We can have patience in our ordeals in life because we know we have a God who is on our side. He has suffered with us and for us. “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

Now, there’s a part of Psalm 129 that we haven’t addressed yet, which we can’t ignore. The last verses of the psalm approach the throne of God with a prayer for punishment on all those who have hated and opposed Zion–God’s holy mountain, God’s people, his church. “Oh, let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation; let them be like grass in shallow ground that withers before the harvest” (Psalm 129:5-6 MSG). Is that a righteous prayer? Are we allowed to pray for judgment against “the evil plowmen” who have “plowed long furrows up and down” our backs? Are we allowed to ask God to rip “the harnesses of the evil plowmen to shreds” (cf. Psalm 129:3,4 MSG)? When Christ was crucified, didn’t he say, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34)?

Yes, Christ urges us to show patience and forgiveness to all. At the same time, we also speak out against those who knowingly and persistently act against righteousness and justice and goodness. Jesus himself forcefully upended the tables of the merchants and money changers doing business in the temple area, even making a whip to drive away all their merchandise–sheep and cattle they were selling for sacrifices (John 2:13-17). God’s prophets again and again decried those who acted unjustly. The prophet Amos warned the proud and powerful in his day, saying, “I know how many are your transgressions, and how great are your sins—you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy. … Hate evil and love good. … Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light, and gloom with no brightness in it [to those who are wicked]?… Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:12,15,21,24).

We are called to a path of patience like God’s own patience, “not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). But that doesn’t mean we wish people well in their path of sin or smile cheerfully when evil and hurtful things occur. Christians can get confused about that sometimes. I know someone who worked in a domestic violence shelter in the Bible belt. Many of the women entering the shelter were deeply Christian in their convictions. As soon as their terror subsided and their wounds and bruises began to heal, they began feeling it was their duty to go back to their husbands and forgive them. The shelter team had trouble keeping these women safely in the program, because of their compelling urge to turn the other cheek and forgive quickly. The advice I offered? Remind the battered women of the example of Joseph in dealing with his brothers. Joseph had been mistreated by his brothers and sold off into slavery by them. God kept Joseph safe and put him in a position where later his brothers came before him (not recognizing who he was, as he became a leader in Egypt and had the appearance of an Egyptian). Joseph very much wanted to forgive and reconcile with his brothers, but didn’t rush into doing so. He put his brothers through a series of tests of character to see if they were still the same uncaring men who had sold him into slavery more than a decade earlier (cf. Genesis chapters 42-45). Once it was clear they were changed, repentant persons, he revealed himself, and a genuine reunion and reconciliation occurred.

Loving Zion–loving the kingdom of God and all that is good–means we will not smile and nod toward those who hate Zion or do evil. We will, in all honesty, feel what the ancient psalm-singers felt when they sang: “Let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation.” We don’t say, “Congratulations on your wonderful crop! We bless you in God’s name!” (Psalm 129:8 MSG) to those who achieve their great harvest or success by abusing or exploiting or taking advantage of people to get it. We call evil evil, and we call good good. We pray for the good of all, and we pray against that which is evil. And we wait patiently while enduring suffering and hurt in a world that is plagued by much that is evil, knowing we have a God who is good and who will rescue us from all that is painful in his appointed time.

The Passion of Christ has shown us how God achieves what is valuable for us. There was nothing quick or easy about the path set before Jesus. He trod that bloody, anguished path for us. And he promises us that when our patience is tried and tested, he remains with us, building our endurance, giving us hope. As the Scriptures testify: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh” (2 Corinthians 4:8-11). This is our calling in Christ.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are rom the 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.

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Feb

2022

Why church?

I initially sketched out the thoughts of this post as a conversation starter for a church committee. I’ve reworked the thoughts for sharing here. Feel free to join the conversation here via comments, or to share with others if you find the thoughts useful.

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Why church?

Our mutual need for spiritual encouragement

Attendance at church services was dropping year by year before COVID happened. Getting people back into church settings after pandemic lockdowns added further challenges. When anyone can access anything they want online, including spiritual videos and writings, who needs church?

We do need church … although not necessarily in the sense of buildings we meet in. Martin Luther reminded us that a building “should not be called a church except for the single reason that the group of people assembles there.” Those who gather give the house of worship the name “church” by virtue of their assembly (Large Catechism: Apostles Creed). We gather in order to connect with each other and with the Lord, to keep “encouraging one another” (Hebrews 10:25). The first Christians (in the first century) didn’t have church buildings to meet in. They gathered in each other’s homes. They met wherever they could meet, knowing that holding onto hope and living in love wasn’t easy (cf. Hebrews 10:23-24). Like those first century believers, we still need community with each other and communion with God. As another writer on this blog has attested: “The benefit of having a close community with your church is immeasurable–a family of believers who all look out for one another in love, support each other in faith, and build each other up” (The Electric Gospel, 6/13/2014).

Image credit: Liturgy.co.nz

As Christians, we want to share the life and fellowship that we have with others. We invite others to join us in church–to be included in our prayers, in our songs, in listening to words from God together with us. At the same time, we seek to extend Christ’s message outside the church walls too, in every form of outreach available to us. Technology has been a blessing, allowing us to connect with persons near and far through blogs, emails, videoconferencing and live streaming. Where the ancient church used letters (“epistles”), disseminated from congregation to congregation, we rely on the information technologies of our time to stay in touch. If you’re reading this as someone outside the church, and you’re not yet comfortable stepping inside a church, by all means explore, browse, stream, investigate from where you are. Look for ministries that convey Christ’s love and welcome for all people. Listen for the warmth of Christ that says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). I pray you will find a gospel-focused ministry in your area that could become a church home for you.

I’ve known plenty of people who have been uneasy about churches and ministries, as they had been deeply hurt by religious institutions and individuals. There are now institutes and studies examining religious trauma, which usually stems from struggles within an authoritarian religion or religious group, and then persons begin to “question the true extent of what they’ve been taught to believe” (Apricity Behavioral Health, 2020). There are podcasts, such as Cafeteria Christian, for listeners who want a connection to Jesus but have been disillusioned by the actions of many professed Christians. It’s understandable for non-churchgoers to be skeptical of the church. It’s imperative for those of us who are churchgoers to show our neighbors that they truly are welcome in our community. The church is to be a place for mutual spiritual uplifting, a place where Jesus guides how we treat one another: “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven” (Luke 6:37). When someone is in need of encouragement and seeks spiritual guidance (whether by attendance at church or accessing ministries online), we want them to know they have a friend in Jesus–and in us.

Let people come together–inside the church and through the extended outreach of the church–in ways that provide mutual spiritual encouragement in the spirit of the Savior.

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Just as I am, though tossed about
with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, thy love unknown
has broken ev’ry barrier down;
now to be thine, yea, thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

– “Just As I Am,” Charlotte Elliott (1835)

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

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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.

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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

Life is eternal in Jesus

A meditation focused on Psalm 129

PATIENCE

Why church?

Our mutual need for spiritual encouragement

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

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