mercy

Sep

2023

Learning how to forgive

Readings for 16th Sunday after Pentecost, Sep. 17, 2023

Learning how to forgive — forgive freely, but not cheaply

by David Sellnow

We have a hard time with forgiveness. Maybe you have been on the receiving end of a grudge. You wronged someone. It was years ago, and they haven’t spoken to you since. Or maybe you’ve been the one holding a grudge. You’ve turned away from someone, ignored them, ghosted them, because they betrayed or disappointed you in some way. Or perhaps you haven’t gone that far. You’ve had your differences with a family member or friend or neighbor, and you’ve put up with them. You looked the other way; you said, “It’s OK.” Meanwhile, though, you kept a mental record of each and every infraction—what they did and when they did it. Whatever the issue or the behavior, you find yourself thinking: “How many times do I need to forgive? It’s been seven times already. Is seven enough?” Remember, though, Jesus’ response to that question: “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22). Jesus does not want us putting limits and restrictions on how much we’re willing to forgive. Our God certainly has not set restrictions on his own capacity to forgive us.

Jesus illustrated the too-frequent difference between God forgiving us and us forgiving others with his parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:23-35). The servant had been forgiven by the king of a debt of 10,000 talents, an unpayable debt that was simply wiped off his record. That same servant turned around and pursued legal action against a fellow servant who owed him 100 denarii. In the Roman empire, a denarius was a coin used to pay a daily wage. A talent was a unit of weight for gold or silver, about 75 pounds. To add up to one talent of value, you’d need 6,000 denarii. So a debt of 10,000 talents would be 60,000,000 denarii. After having a debt of 60,000,000 denarii expunged by the king’s grace, the man harshly refused to show any leniency with a peer who owed him 100 denarii. How often are we like that? We forget how merciful God has been in his dealings with us, and we show little or no mercy in our dealings with others.

Sometimes too, we withhold forgiveness because we have invented our own infractions and cut people off for arbitrary reasons. We are like the early church folks who were judging each other for which days they observed as holy days or what foods they did or didn’t allow themselves to eat. Christ’s apostle needed to remind them: “Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed them. Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another?” (Romans 14:2-4).

We get carried away in self-asserted certainties and punish people for going against our expectations—which may be far from God’s own commands. Some real-life examples:

A father hasn’t spoken to his adult son for decades, because the son joined a church of a different denomination. Is that man so sure God is present only in his own type of congregation and in no other places?
A friend has not forgiven a friend for accepting a position and moving to another part of the country. Resentment set in about being “abandoned”—as If the Lord God had issued commands that the friend should have remained forever in one place on this earth.
A student severed a friendship from a classmate who stopped letting them copy homework assignments, blaming the classmate when they failed the assignments.

Sometimes we are the ones sinning, holding grudges, creating or maintaining divisions. Yet we blame it on the other persons rather than admitting our own insincerities and inconsistencies.

I once attended a church elders meeting, where one elder came to the meeting concerned about all of the “deadwood” in the congregation (members who had not been to worship for a while). He had a proposal. He had prepared samples of a series of letters to send to people. The first letter would warn them about the dangers of not attending church. If they didn’t respond or return to worship within six weeks, the church would send the second letter, with stronger warnings. Then, if they didn’t respond or return to church within another six weeks, the church would send the third letter, informing the recipients that they would be excommunicated. All of this was planned without making any sort of personal outreach effort to those members: no phone call, no personal visit. Just a series of three form letters, then their names would be removed from the church roster. Thankfully, the other elders on the board spoke up before the pastor even had to say anything. This was not a gospel-oriented idea. This was not how they were going to do ministry. Still, the fact that the idea was raised says something about the way we sometimes feel—ready to write people off, be done with them, rather than continuing to extend forgiveness.

I wonder how such a series of letters would have affected a church member I met in a different congregation. When I came to the congregation as the new pastor, I made an effort to visit each member’s home. There were, of course, plenty of members who had not been active in church for some time. One woman had been absent for years after having been very active previously. When I asked what had caused her to pull away, she described how it had happened after she and her husband had lost a child. The experience strained their marriage. She and her husband eventually divorced. Immediately after the child’s untimely death, church members showed her much caring and concern. But as time went on, she grew tired of facing people in the congregation, who always greeted her with such a sad look, always so worried about her. It was almost pushing her to continue to dwell in the grief and loss and pain. She just couldn’t handle that anymore, so she stopped coming. She’d visited some other churches along the way, but had not felt at home yet anywhere else. It was good that I went to visit her, and it was time that she was ready to return and become part of that church family again.

We don’t always know what is going on in someone else’s mind or heart. We should not rush to judgment about their seeming lack of expression of faith, or sins or troubles they seem to keep stumbling into. Far better that we be patient with them, with everyone—as we would want people to be patient with us—when struggling through something damaging or difficult.

Think of the Lord and his dealings with Israel. The Lord did not support their patterns of wandering and straying from his side. Yet at the same time, he was always in a posture of forgiveness, ready to embrace his people when they returned to him. Think of the picture Jesus gave us of the father of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). The father kept waiting for his son to come to his senses, to want to be home. He was watching and hoping every day for that change of heart. That is the stance of our God. He is not glad that we are doing wrong or living in senseless ways. He is always ready to grant us a place at his table and a celebration when we are back in his home and his family. As one of our most treasured psalms says of the LORD’s way of forgiveness: “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He will not always accuse …. He does not deal with us according to our sins …. As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him” (Psalm 103:8-13).

We pray that our ability to forgive will grow more and more like the compassionate heart of the LORD our God.

Having said that, let’s remember something else about the Lord’s way of forgiveness. Giving the gospel to someone who keeps wallowing in their own mud, refusing to repent, is like tossing pearls before swine (Matthew 7:6). While our usual failing is that we are too slow to forgive, there are also times when Christian people can be too quick to forgive. Excusing those who aren’t aren’t really ready for forgiveness can be harmful. We are seeking real restoration in our relationships, not simply sweeping hurts and abuses under the rug.

Let me offer an example, from a social worker in a domestic violence shelter. This was in the Bible belt; the majority of women who sought shelter there from brutal abuse were deeply religious persons. Most of the staff were not church people, though, and they were frustrated by a pattern they were seeing. The religious women believed they had to forgive immediately. The minute their man would say, ‘I’m sorry,’ they’d go back to him. The shelter would see them again within days or weeks, beaten up worse than the last time. According to Domestic Shelters.org, most women return to an abusive relationship six or more times, for various reasons, repeatedly subjecting themselves to the violence. At this Bible belt shelter, the averages were driven even higher by the religious conviction, “‘I must forgive,” pulling women back to their partners prematurely. In her work at the shelter, the Christian social worker of my acquaintance was asked to offer her perspective and counsel these women. She began pointing the women to the meaning of the word “repentance,” which indicates a change of heart and mind. It is a transformation, a turnaround, moving in new directions. As John the Baptist emphasized, those who repent will “bear fruit worthy of repentance” (Matthew 3:8). The women also needed to be reminded of how Joseph dealt with his brothers. Joseph’s brothers had sold him to slave traders when he was a teenager (cf. Genesis 37). By God’s providence over many years, Joseph went from being a slave in Egypt to becoming a government official, second only to the pharaoh himself. Then, when a famine hit, Egypt was the only place with storehouses of food. Joseph was in charge of the food program. When Joseph’s brothers came to Egypt to buy food (and didn’t recognize Joseph), he put them through quite an ordeal to test them. He wanted to verify that they were different than they had been. He didn’t rush to reunite with them. He made sure they were repentant first. So, when he did reveal his identity to his long-lost brothers and welcomed them with open arms, the reunion was real. He had the whole family come down to live in Egypt, including his aged father. Then, when father Jacob died, the brothers became worried that Joseph’s kindness to them would stop, that he had only been showing them mercy because of their father’s presence. But Joseph again reassured them and spoke kindly to them. Joseph modeled his forgiveness after the forgiveness of God himself. (Cf. Genesis 50:15-21.) God had brought about good for Joseph, and Joseph was glad his relationship with his brothers had been healed.

When it comes to forgiveness, much of the time we are too slow to forgive, too arbitrary, too stingy. We are too easily like the unmerciful servant Jesus described, wanting to take people by the throat and demand, “Pay me what you owe me!” (cf. Matthew 18:38). Other times we are too quick to forgive, too enabling, too carelessly handing out pardons while the crimes are still being committed. Our Lord, Jesus, has instructed us to “be as wary as serpents, and as innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16 NASB). Learning how to forgive is an uphill journey for us. But with the Spirit’s wisdom guiding us on, we can learn how to forgive so that relationships are fully healed, families and friends genuinely reunited.

May God give us the wisdom to be careful when unrepented sin must be confronted with strength, and also the grace to give wholehearted forgiveness to fellow sinners in need of mercy. May we show mercy to our fellow servants of God, our King, in the same way that God, our King, has shown mercy to us (cf. Matthew 18:33).

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.

Oct

2022

We Will Serve the Lord

Thoughts in focus on Joshua 24:13-15, in context of Joshua 24:1-26

As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.

Years ago, I was canvassing for a church outreach project. After a less-than-friendly reception at many homes, I came to a house with a lovely engraved door knocker that said, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” I thought, “At least here I’ll find a warm welcome.” Yet when the homeowner answered my knocking, he was irritated that I was on his porch. He brushed me off abruptly and told me to go away. At the time I thought, “Well, so much for him and his household serving the Lord!” As I think back on it now, I’m less inclined to judge his motives. In retrospect, our door-to-door surveying wasn’t particularly helpful to our neighbors. We didn’t exactly go out to the community asking them how we could be of help to them. We weren’t engaging much in service to or projects with the community. We just wanted to add members to our congregation. Perhaps we zealous surveyors needed some rethinking on what it means to say, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

I will admit, I have no great credentials to be lecturing you on what it means to serve the Lord. I spent much of my elementary school life writing “I will not ____” 100 times on the chalkboard because of my behavior. I was called into the dean’s office multiple times in high school. I was called into the dean’s office multiple times in college. I’ll spare you the details of my transgressions–the ones back then and the ones since. If you want someone who has always obeyed all the rules to help you understand what it means to serve the Lord, I’m not your guy. But what I propose is that for you, for me, for our households, serving the Lord isn’t merely making sure you have all obeyed all the rules. Serving the Lord isn’t about mouthing the right words or following a “commandment learned by rote” (Isaiah 29:13), but a matter of hearts that are drawn close into relationship with God. Our God can (and will) hold onto hearts of those who trust in him, even when their lives get complicated and confused and messy. The person whose heart is linked to the Lord, ready to serve, is more likely to be the tax collector who knows he doesn’t deserve heaven but prays, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” rather than the proud Pharisee who announces, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people … I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income” (cf. Luke 18:9-14).

The oft-quoted line, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord,” comes from a speech by Joshua at the beginning of Israel’s national history. When Joshua and his people had taken possession of lands that would come to be known as Israel, they held a solemn ceremony. Joshua rehearsed their history and called the people to faithful service. Promises were made to Abraham, to turn Abraham’s family into a great nation of descendants with a homeland in mind for them. Israel had grown into a nation within a nation when they were in Egypt. God sent Moses and Aaron to lead them out, to go to their promised land. They escaped Egypt, and Egypt’s army was destroyed. They spent many years living in the wilderness, without an established home. Then they were led to lands inhabited by the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Girgashites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites; and God handed them over to Israel (Joshua 24:2-13).

Joshua’s speech summed it up all rather matter-of-factly. And we tend to think of the conquest of Canaan rather matter-of-factly–even in bold, heroic terms. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, and the walls came tumbling down! But if you ponder it, there are challenging questions to consider. How do you deal with the fact that God’s chosen people were sent on a mission to eradicate other peoples and take possession of their territories? They had been given commands from God through Moses that described their mission in stark terms. If the people they were dispossessing didn’t surrender peacefully, the Israelites were told to “make war” and “besiege” them and “put all males to the sword. … As for the towns of these peoples that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance,” they they were taught by Moses, “you must not let anything that breathes remain alive. You shall annihilate them” (Deuteronomy 20:10-17).

That’s fearsome language. We’re told that God was using Israel to bring judgment upon those other nations, because of “the abhorrent practices of those nations” (Deuteronomy 18:9). Archaology supports the Bible’s record that those nations’ practices included even the ritual sacrifice of children. In a previous time, when the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah had exhausted God’s patience, fire rained down from heaven in judgment. In the days of Joshua, judgment by God was brought upon Canaan by the army of Israel. God made clear to the people of Israel that it was not because they were better or more worthy that they were being given these victories. It was because of God’s faithfulness to his own promises. He was fulfilling the oath he made to Israel’s ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, that this would be their land (Deuteronomy 9:4-5). Joshua’s job was to establish a physical homeland for the people of Israel and to safeguard the boundary lines of their nation. This was no easy task in the midst of rival peoples who followed the worst of the tendencies of religion and ritual and power in this world. Within that territory, Israel needed to remain intact in order to keep the bloodline of the family of Abraham intact until the arrival of the Messiah, promised to come from Abraham’s descendants.

So what it meant for Joshua and the Israelites to serve the Lord faithfully in their day had some very special circumstances. Thus Joshua addressed the people with some very stern language. He laid down the law heavily with them, warning they could come under God’s judgment too if they turned away from faithfulness. Their faithfulness involved following moral, civil, and ceremonial laws given through Moses, to maintain their identity as a people. God did not want them to fall into the ways of the people around them and “do all the abhorrent things that they [did] for their gods, and thus sin” against the LORD God (Deuteronomy 20:18). The LORD God wanted to keep his people from the coercion of idolatrous religion. The idols of the nations really are nothings; they cannot bring rain, they cannot provide hope (cf. Jeremiah 14:22). Only the true Lord of heaven can send showers and offer salvation. He’s not the kind of God that you can please by burning your child alive in a fiery sacrifice. You may remember how the LORD God once presented Abraham with a challenge of fatih, asking him to sacrifice his own son Isaac–but then stopped him to show this is not how the LORD God is served. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is a God who relates to his people, who knows and calls each of his people by name. The God of Abrahm, Isaac, and Jacob is someone who calls us into relationship with him, whose Spirit renews our hearts and minds so that we walk in willing agreement with his principles. Our God is not seeking to impose a way of oppression or slavish obedience to rules and power. The faith and way of life for the people of Israel was to be uniquely different from the ways of the world around them. For them as people of the LORD their God, most of all, their life of worship and faithfulness would be looking forward to and foreshadowing the promised Savior of all nations, who would come through their nation.

Let’s bear that in mind. In the midst of the sternness of the situation for the people of Israel–needing to establish and maintain their integrity in the midst of pagan neighbors–their main focus always was to look toward and trust in God’s promise of salvation. For them to serve the Lord in ancient days (and for us to serve the Lord in our day) is, above all, a matter of clinging to the promises of God in Christ with all our heart and soul and mind and strength. When we say, “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord,” think first of service to the gospel. When Jesus was asked, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” Jesus answered, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent. … This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life” (John 6:28,29,40). Doing God’s will always has been, more than anything, about trusting his gospel promises.

Time and again, the Lord’s prophetic spokesmen reminded that the Lord says, “I desire steadfast love, and not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6; see also Micah 6:6-8, Psalm 51:1-2,16-17, Proverbs 21:3, 1 Samuel 15:22, Isaiah 55:1-7, Joel 2:12-13, Matthew 9:13, Matthew 12:7). It’s never sacrifices for sacrifices’ sake, or ritual for ritual’s sake, or commandments for commandments’ sake. It’s always about mercy, about rescue, about following a God who chooses the weak, the insignificant, the forgotten, who gives grace to everyone–not rewards to those who think they’ve earned it by how pure or correct or straightlaced they have been.

It’s worth noting that as the people of Israel went forward, often it was not the formal leadership that got what “serving the Lord” truly meant. It wasn’t scribes and Pharisees counting every way to be law-obeyers and ritual-keepers. By the time of Jesus’ arrival, the ones whose hearts were in the right place were simple-hearted souls like a carpenter and his young bride (Joseph and Mary) like a very ordinary, rank and file, elderly priest and his wife (Zechariah and Elizabeth), like simple, devoted worshipers who frequented the temple, yearning for the coming of the Savior (Simeon and Anna). The ones who received the message of Jesus with joy when he arrived in this world were shepherds, fishermen, the sick and disabled, the poor and the needy, societal outcasts, sinners. Jesus said to the high and haughty religious leaders of the day, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you” (Matthew 21:31).

So, in practice, what does it mean for us to serve the Lord? Serving the Lord isn’t how many church functions you do or how many weekly or daily rituals you observe. Yes, we want to gather together in church. Yes, we want all members of the congregation to feel they have opportunities for service in ways that use their gifts and abilities. But the measure of your service to the Lord is not how many times you attend church or how many committees you join.

Back in the day, when I was doing door-knocking with a community religious survey in hand, one of the survey questions asked about religious involvement with a multiple choice question: “How often do you attend church?” The answer choices were:

___ Weekly
___ Once or twice a month
___ A couple times each year
___ Not at all

There were many community members (in the Bible Belt town where we were surveying) who got very offended at the question. They would look at that question and respond, “You need another answer on here! I go three times a week–Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night prayer meeting!” They insisted that our survey records give them full credit for how much they were doing for the Lord. I don’t doubt the sincerity of their faith, but many of them seemed to have the emphasis in the wrong place–on their obedience, their diligence, their actions. When Jesus pictured the day of judgment and the Son of Man saying to those who are found righteous, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25:35-36), the response of the righteous is not, “Hey, God, you forgot to list how many times I went to church! And you forgot to list the times I helped an elderly lady across the street and how I did my neighbors’ yard work while they were away.” Those whose hearts are genuine in serving the Lord aren’t keeping a scorecard. They are simply living and breathing the gospel. God’s Spirit is alive in them.

Jesus summed up what it means to serve the Lord in a few words: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34). This wasn’t new in the sense of never having been stated before. The primary path for serving the Lord also in Old Testament times was living in love toward others. Joshua and the Israelites had a unique assignment when they were asked to take hold of a physical homeland for their nation. But the primary calling for God’s people in serving the Lord in their day-to-day lives was: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart” (Deuteronomy 6:5) and “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). The ancient command to love our neighbor has remained always true and was given revitalized emphasis by Jesus and his apostles. Paul said, if we speak “in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love,” we are just noisy gongs, clanging cymbals. If we “have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and … have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love,” we are nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1-2). John wrote, “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent us his Son … Since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. … If we love one another, God lives in us” (1 John 4:10-12).

Sometimes church folk have fallen into a misguided way of thinking about our mission in the world: thinking of our service to the Lord primarily as a battle against evil and evildoers. If we overdo that idea, we too easily cast ourselves in the role of godly warriors who stand against our enemies and must beat them down to defeat them. Then we start thinking of every neighbor who is different from us as someone we must oppose and push away. It’s as if we made the specialized mission Joshua and Israel had for a limited time in history into an ongoing crusade for all Christians for all time. In doing so, we lose sight of our primary mission. Our primary mission, as Peter said, is: “Above all, maintain constant love for one another …. Be hospitable to one another …. Serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received” (1 Peter 4:8-10). As Paul put it, “The love of Christ urges us on … so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.” We serve the Lord by engaging with our world with a ministry of reconciliation, of hope, of friendship. “We are ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:14-20).

Maybe, a song called “Onward Christ’s ambassadors, reaching out in peace” wouldn’t have the same ring to it as “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war.” But we’d do well to change our tune in that direction. We are ambassadors more than we are warriors. God makes his appeal through us to bring others into relationship with us and with God through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:20). The Lord whom we serve, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, is one who desires a heartfelt, deep relationship with each of us, by name. We serve him by living in love and relationship with others.

Sep

2022

Ask God to Remember Who He Is

We pray to the One who is faithful, even when we are faithless

A sermon for September 11, 2022 (Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Scripture for consideration: Exodus 32:7-14

There is a tension inside of parents. Parents want their children to be good, to behave well, to do well. You have a godly desire for them to live productive, well-directed lives. You are upset when your children do things wrong, when they run away from you, when they do the opposite of what you know is good for them. At the same time, the core of a parent’s character is unconditional love. A parent will be there always for them, will never abandon them. A parent will search and strive and keep reaching out if ever children wander off or lose their way, intent on holding them close again in love, embracing them with forgiveness.

God describes himself to us as a parent to us; he is our Father. There is something of that same tension within God’s heart and in his Word to us. God has a righteous desire for rightness, obedience, and well-ordered lives for us. The Ten Commandments serve as a summary of the Law of God, his plans and principles for us. But law alone is not the essence of who God is. Above all, God’s love for us and promises to us always will be paramount. God’s essential character will not let him turn away from unconditional love, commitment, and caring for persons he has called to be his own. Even when we are not “good children,” when we are like prodigal sons who run off and squander our inheritance from our Father in “dissolute living” (Luke 15:13), our Father is waiting and watching for us every day, filled with compassion. Hi is ready to run and put his arms around us and welcome us home the moment we come back to him (cf. Luke 15:20).

Mount Sinai (via Wikimedia Commons)

Today (in consideration of this Sunday’s Old Testament reading), we ponder what happened when Moses prayed on behalf of God’s people, and we hear that God “changed his mind” in response. This happened when the people of Israel were gathered in the southern Sinai Peninsula, at the base of Mount Sinai. Just three months prior, the people had exited Egypt amid astonishing signs and wonders and miracles that God enacted to deliver them from slavery. But when Moses was up on the mountain receiving teaching from God for forty days, the people lost faith. They reverted to the sort of worship they had seen in idolatrous Egypt. They crafted a symbol, something like the Egyptian bull god Apis, a sacred cow, an image of fertility and strength. The LORD God, who had delivered Israel from Egypt, was angry at their apostasy. He announced to Moses that he was ready to destroy them and start over, making a new nation out of Moses and his descendants. Moses, whom “the Lord used to speak to … face to face, as one speaks to a friend” (Exodus 33:11), spoke back to God and said, “No, you don’t want to do that.” Moses asked why God would turn his power against the Israelites when he had promised to carry them forward as his people. “Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, your servants,” Moses said. “You swore to them by your own self, saying to them, ‘I will multiply your descendants like the stars of heaven, and all this land that I have promised I will give to your descendants.’” (Exodus 32:13). Moses reminded God of his own character, his own promises, his own ultimate goal of gospel and mercy. At that, we are told, “The Lord changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring on his people” (Exodus 32:14).

This is amazing, isn’t it? Do you sense the conundrum in a statement like, “The Lord changed his mind”? Haven’t we been taught that the heavenly Father “does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17 NIV)? And regarding the path of our lives, we confess that “all the days that were formed” for us were already written in God’s book “when none of them as yet existed” (Psalm 139:16). So, if God knows all things in advance, how can he have had one plan in mind and then changed plans? How is it possible that God was intending to end his relationship with the people of Israel, and then, in response to Moses’ prayer, turned around and “did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened” (Exodus 32:14 NIV)?

Well, that is the wonderful mystery of prayer, isn’t it? It also reveals something of the wonderful mystery of God’s being and how he deals with us. God already knows what is best for us before we ever utter a single prayer, and assures us that he has foreseen the whole plan of our lives (cf. Psalm 139). Yet he also urges us to pray and promises that he responds to our prayers. Pondering a deep mystery of God such as this makes us say, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it” (Psalm 139:6). It is true that God knows all things, and therefore knows in advance all that will transpire in our lives. On the other hand, it is also true that God hears and responds to our prayers, even changing the course of history in reply to the prayers of his people. We do not try to reconcile this logical paradox; rather, we acknowledge that God’s knowledge is far past our understanding.

It’s good that there are two differing perspectives in how God deals with us, because It’s not just Israel’s idolatry with the golden calf that deserved God’s punishment. Scripture says, “There will be anguish and distress for everyone who does evil” (Romans 2:9), and, ultimately, everyone is guilty of evildoing. “There is no one who is righteous, not even one” (Romans 3:10). Yet the same God who handed down the law that holds the whole world morally accountable also is full of mercy for us sinners. This is indeed a happy contradiction! God’s gospel (good news) stands opposed to his law of judgment. If it were not so, we would all be condemned forever. But God makes this promise to us:

Let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts;
let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. …
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:7-9).

The higher wisdom of God goes above and beyond rules that say, “The person who sins shall die” (Ezekiel 18:2). God provides an answer to his own demands from the depths of his own mercy.

At a later time in the history of Israel, when the people were about to be carried away to Babylon for 70 years of exile, God instructed the people to pray for a return home. God’s knowledge of their future included the prayers they would offer to him. “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile” (Jeremiah 29:10-14).

Notice that God’s plans for us that look into the future include also plans that we will pray and he will respond to our prayers. That doesn’t mean that our prayers are all pre-scripted, as if God has programmed us like computers. Think bigger than that. No matter how many options or scenarios there may be, there is nothing of our lives that is outside of God’s awareness, including our prayers and all the different possibilities of our actions day by day.

The Christian church father Augustine commented on our freedom to act (and to pray) fitting within God’s overall knowledge of all things: “Our wills themselves,” Augustine wrote, “are included in that order of causes which is certain to God, and is embraced by his foreknowledge. For human wills are also causes of human actions, and he who foreknew all the causes of things would certainly among those causes not have been ignorant of our wills” (quoted from City of God, Book V, chapter 9). That’s complicated, I know, but did you catch what Augustine was saying? God’s knowledge and will is so vast and all-encompassing that every possible change of direction by us, or every petition of prayer we might offer, is included. Our God is not small!

September 11 (via Wikimedia Commons)

As Christians, we are not fatalists. We do not believe that God has pre-chosen every detail of our existence in such a way that all we are doing is going through mindless motions. We are not God’s puppets; we are his people. In a prominent confession, Lutheran theologians rejected all notions of fatalism. “We reject and condemn as contrary to the standard of God’s Word the delirium of philosophers who . . . taught that everything that happens must so happen, and cannot happen otherwise, and that everything that man does, even in outward things, he does by compulsion, and that he is coerced to evil works and deeds [such as] robbery, murder, theft, and the like” (Formula of Concord, Epitome, Article II). If you take a fatalistic view, then you would have to blame God for the behavior of the Israelites in worshiping the golden calf, as if he made them do that. Or you would have to blame God for the actions of the terrorists that caused so much destruction on September 11th twenty-one years ago, as if God willed for them to do that. In a history classroom at a religious college, on more than one occasion, I had to correct students who wanted to say the Holocaust–the massacre of Jews and others hated by Hitler and the Nazi regime–must have been God’s will because God is in charge of everything. That sort of thinking is an atrocity in itself and an affront to God’s character. “God is love” (1 John 4:8). “God cannot be tempted by evil and he himself tempts no one” (James 1:13). When human beings do evil things, we do that of our own accord. Persons are tempted by their “own desire, being lured and enticed by it; then, when that desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin” (James 1:14-15).

Do not assign death and destruction and harm and calamity to the will and desire of God. Moses knew God cannot do evil. So, when God denounced how stiff-necked and unfaithful his people were, and said, “Let me alone, so that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them” (Exodus 32:10), Moses said, “No, Lord, that’s not who you are.” The goal of God is never our destruction but our salvation. He is patient with us, “not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). Think of someone like Paul, who had been such a self-righteous Pharisee, “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence” (1 Timothy 1:13). But God showed him mercy, redeeming him from his ignorance, outpouring on him an overflow of faith and love in Christ (1 Timothy 1:14). Think of how Jesus described God’s intent and purpose–like a shepherd who will keep seeking and not give up on even one lost sheep, like a woman cleaning every corner of the house in search of just one lost coin (cf. Luke 15:1-10). Emmy Kegler, in her book, One Coin Found: How God’s Love Stretches to the Margins (2019), describes God’s loving purpose toward us well. She writes: “We too are lost and dusty coins. We have gone unnoticed, rusted from others’ indifference, misspent and misused, and our friends and leaders did not see our neglect. But God, in big and little ways, has picked up a woman’s broom and swept every corner of creation. God, in big and little ways, has tucked up her skirts and flattened herself on the floor, dug through dust bunnies and checked every dress pocket. God has found us, dustier and rustier and without any luster, and held us up to the light to say: No matter how you rolled away or what corner you were dropped in, you are mine.”

We may wander. We may roll away. People near and dear to us may go astray, may lose faith and begin worshiping other things rather than staying true to God. But God remains faithful to us and to them. Even “if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself” (2 Timothy 2:13). God invites us to pray to him (Psalm 50:15, Ephesians 6:18). He invites our prayers in response to whatever is going on in our lives and in the world around us. And he promises he will respond to our prayers. We pray with confidence that prayer indeed can change things, for God has promised: “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you” (Matthew 17:20).

We have a God whose character is anchored in a desire to rescue, to help, to save, to forgive. Our God invites us to be in conversation with him, to ask him to change his mind when we or others have sinned much “and indeed deserve only punishment.” Though “we are worthy of nothing for which we ask, no have we earned it … we ask that God would give us all things by grace”–and he does. Let us keep calling on God in prayer, asking him to remember his gospel promises. Like Moses prayed boldly even when his people were at their worst, we will keep on praying to our God “boldly and with complete confidence, just as loving children ask their loving father.”

(Quotations in final paragraph from the Small Catechism, cf. Lutheran Book of Worship, p. 1163, 1164).

Sep

2022

Humility = Service (part 2)

For Labor Day, 2022

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 15:58).

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This post is a follow-up to last week’s post on Humility = Service. The thoughts stemmed from readings for Pentecost 12: Proverbs 25:6-7, Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16, and Luke 14:1, 7-14.

Acknowledging our ability to be of service to others

As we consider, humility and service, a second point needs to be made. If you read the previous post, maybe my descriptions missed some of you. Quite likely, a number of you are not pushy or bossy or intrusive or insistent. You let others go ahead of you. You’re patient while waiting your turn. You are completely content to be the quiet person in the back of the room. You aren’t looking to be on center stage. That may be just fine … but it also may be unhelpful. Let’s consider what can happen when you are too humble, too self-effacing, too willing to keep quiet on the sidelines.

I’ve seen humility go too far and impede godly service to one another. Too often, people who have gifts to serve and gifts to lead are asked to use those gifts, and they say, “Oh, no, not me. I can’t do that.” They sound like Moses when he hesitated, saying, “O my Lord, please send someone else” (Exodus 4:13).

I remember a meeting of a board of elders at a congregation. It was suggested that the elders do more than have meetings. The proposal was that every other month–instead of just meeting around the table at the church–they would start with a prayer, then go out to scheduled appointments to visit with church members. The elders around the table turned pale as ghosts when the suggestion was made. Doing the actual work of ministering to others frightened them.

Or there was a woman in a congregation, someone others looked up to. Others would approach her for advice. She was spiritually well-grounded, and others could see that. When her pastor asked her to take on a more formal role, as a deaconess in the congregation, she professed all sorts of humility and said she wasn’t worthy of such a role. Maybe that was okay. Maybe she didn’t need any official title. If she continued doing the mentoring she was doing when others approached her, that would still be good. But she needn’t have shied away from stepping up to higher responsibilities, when asked to do so for the good of others.

When someone calls upon you to “come on up” to a higher position of responsibility, or to a task of leadership to which you are particularly suited, are you ready to answer that call? Or will you let an excess of humility get in your way?

If you are called to come up to a higher place and serve others around you in your life, don’t wave a white flag of humility and say you’re not worthy. It’s quite true that none of us are worthy by our own virtue to serve as ambassadors for Christ. But Christ, in his mercy, has given each of us gifts and calls each of us into unique roles of service. “If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly” (Romans 12:8 NLT).

This principle applies not just in your church life, such as the church examples I gave. Being ready to step up and serve applies daily in your personal life. Each of you has connections, situations, opportunities that arise day by day. When an occasion arises which calls you into action, that’s not a time for you to hide in humility and say, “Oh, it’s none of my business,” or, “Someone with more knowledge or skill should be the one to help.” The situation is in front of you now. The friend or neighbor or family member is needing you now. Don’t pull back, afraid. Be open to others’ needs. Be ready to help as best you can. Most of all, just be. Be present. Be there for people when they need you. When someone is calling out with a need, recognize that God may be calling you to step into action. Often those calls are not verbally expressed, but you know the need is there. Without being a busybody, you can offer yourself as a friend, as an ally in Christ. You can offer resources and referrals to other sources of help too. Look for those real-life opportunities to be Christ to your neighbor. “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to [the position you are in] for just such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

Acting on behalf of others is a way of exercising proper humility. You don’t use humility as an excuse in such situations, backing away and ducking out. You exercise humility by putting others’ needs ahead of your own, others’ comfort and care ahead of your own potential discomfort and fears. You use your time and your talents in the interests of others. Having humility and compassion means you’re not just looking out for yourselves. Through your love and labor, you become humble and devoted servants to one another (cf. Galatians 5:13).

In your lives, what opportunities are presenting themselves where someone is saying, “Friend, come on up” to a higher place, to an added responsibility, to a role of helping or leading others? Keep your eyes and ears open for those opportunities. Keep your spiritual senses tuned in. Recognize that God is calling you to use your gifts in humble service to your neighbor. When you see someone hungry, you’ll be ready to give them food. When you see someone thirsty, you’ll give them something to drink. As Scripture urges (Hebrews 13:1-3), you will “let mutual love continue.” You will “show hospitality to strangers.” You will “remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them.” You will do whatever you can to assist those who are feeling tortured (experiencing pain or suffering in their lives), ”as though you yourselves were being tortured” along with them. You will “continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God” by doing good for others and by sharing yourself and what you have with others, “for such sacrifices are pleasing to God” (Hebrews 13:15-16). You will welcome into your life “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind”–those who cannot repay you–knowing “you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Luke 7:13,14). In doing even just the little things for those who seem the least significant or least influential in this world, you offer service to Christ, who says to you, “‘Truly I tell you, just as you” do these things for “the least of these who are members of my family,” you do it for me (cf. Matthew 25:35-40). Amen.

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

May

2022

Love for all, good news for all

A message for the 5th Sunday of Easter

“Love for All, Good News for All”

Readings to consider: Acts 11:1-18, John 13:31-35

All along, God had made his mission clear. While God had chosen the nation of Israel to carry his promise until the promised Messiah came, his promise always was for everyone. All people were to be told his good news and welcomed into God’s family through faith, hope, and love. God described, through the prophet Isaiah, that it was too small a thing for the Messiah to be just for tribes of Jacob, the people of Israel. Rather, the Savior would be given as “a light to the nations,” for God’s salvation to “reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). God’s people in Christ never have been defined on the basis of the blood running through their veins, but rather on faith in the promises of Christ that lives in their hearts.

The earliest group of New Testament believers—the church that had gathered around Jesus’ message in Judea and Galilee—was a Jewish church. As they shared the message of Jesus–how he had fulfilled all the long-awaited promises—their natural tendency was to share the message with other Jews, people like themselves. But the Lord showed Peter, one of the key leaders of the early church, that they needed to expand their vision.

Peter’s vision by Domenico Fetti (1619)

God gave Peter a profound experience in a vision, then brought Peter to the household of Cornelius, a Roman centurion, to see faith in action there. Peter said to Cornelius and those with him, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. … All the prophets testify about [Christ] that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name” (Acts 10:34,35.43). Peter witnessed a strong outpouring of God’s Spirit on the members of that Gentile household. They were people so different from Peter and his colleagues culturally, but they were united by faith as one in the name of Jesus.

If those early Jewish Christians, so deeply rooted in their unique customs and traditions, could begin reaching outside of their cultural community to people very much unlike themselves … what does that say to churches like ours today? We are people who have had the gospel for a long time, who have been blessed richly in our faith community. But have we been a bit slow, a bit reluctant, a bit hesitant, about speaking of salvation outside of our comfort zone, outside of the rather narrow circles in which our paths usually run?

Think about the vision God gave Peter–a vision of all kinds of animals for food that would be unthinkable for a Jewish person observing a kosher diet. The vision was about much more than cultural diet laws, though. Peter came to understand God’s essential point–“What God has made clean, you must not call profane” (Acts 11:9)–meant that we should not call any person profane or unclean (cf. Acts 10:28). Do we tend to think of some persons as unclean, unsuitable, unwelcome alongside us in God’s family? Do we look at people whose ways are different from ours, or whose background is different from ours, or whose lifestyle is different from ours, and completely overlook them as souls with whom to share God’s love and hope and truth?

God wants us to reach out more boldly, more widely with his good news—not just to people like ourselves, but also to people dramatically different from us. Otherwise we are putting limits on the love of Jesus. When Jesus said, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34), he wasn’t telling us to love only those already inside our fellowship within the church. Jesus’ call to “have love for one another” (John 13:35) encompasses every other person around us, every fellow human being. Jesus emphasized, as one of the greatest commandments: “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). And do you recall how a religious lawyer tried to wriggle away from that responsibility by saying, “And who is my neighbor” (Luke 10:29)? Jesus responded with the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-35), referring to a people group that Jewish lawyer detested and would have gone out of his way to avoid. Jesus made quite clear that someone who shows mercy to his fellow human beings–every fellow human being–is the one fulfilling the law of love as a true “neighbor” (cf. Luke 10:37, Romans 13:8-10).

Allow me to share a couple of examples that illustrate how we can be too inclined to limit ourselves and our outreach with the gospel.

A number of years ago, I did a ministry internship in one of America’s largest cities. The congregations of the metro area were planning expansion, looking at locations for planting additional churches. I was assigned to do demographic research, to find out which portions of the urban sprawl were projected for population expansion. This would give cues about where future church work might be warranted. I didn’t really know the city yet; to me, the research was simply a matter of maps and statistics. The area I suggested deserved immediate attention, because of swelling numbers of residents, turned out to be a section of slums. Others on the planning committee looked at me incredulously. “Put a church where?” Their pattern had been to put churches in the suburbs, in affluent neighborhoods, so that the ministry efforts could be paid for by offerings from the people who came. The mission planners asked, “How could we afford to start a ministry where the people had no money to support it?” That seemed to go against the spirit of what sharing God’s grace and goodness is meant to look like.* Yes, as we bring others to the gospel, we will urge them to become supporters of gospel ministry themselves. But when the apostle Paul was doing outreach and starting new churches, he made a point not to accept money from people. As he put it, he and his missionary colleagues did not want to put any “an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ” (1 Corinthians 9:12). A policy of doing outreach only where it seemed the efforts could be financially self-supporting was a form of structural discrimination, neglecting poorer populations who needed gospel love as much as anyone. Such a policy risks Jesus saying to us, “Just as you did not help the least of these who are members of my family, you did not help me” (cf. Matthew 25:40,45). Rather than viewing prospective audiences for the gospel from a worldly point of view, we are called to be “ambassadors for Christ” (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:16-20), reaching out to all persons, without making distinctions.

Or another story.** A church had just had summertime Vacation Bible School (VBS). One young mother had brought her two boys to VBS. She also babysat another boy who lived in the same apartment complex. She had asked that boy’s mother if she could bring him to the VBS too, and so she did.

That little boy, who was 5 years old, enjoyed VBS so much that he went home and told his mother, “I want to go to school there all the time!” [The church had a Lutheran elementary school, starting with kindergarten.] So the boy’s mother asked about enrolling him for the fall.

The boy’s mother—we’ll call her Sally—was a working mom. Her profession was the oldest one around, as they say. She had made her living as a prostitute; had made enough, in fact, to buy the business from … well, we’ll call him the ‘previous owner.’ So now Sally was the proprietor or “madam” for a number of “working girls.”

The church had a policy that any parents who wished to enroll children in its school needed to enroll themselves in a Bible study course. Sally agreed with that; she said she’d be glad to take the Bible course if they could work it around her schedule. So, at the next meeting of the congregation’s board of education, the pastor and the ministry intern brought forward the recommendation for Sally’s son to be enrolled in the school … and told them what the woman did for a living.

The school board members panicked. They erupted with questions:

“Pastor, do you really want us to enroll this child in our school?”
“Are you sure the mother actually will take the Bible classes?”
“What effect will this child’s presence in our school have on the other children?”
“Won’t this cause worries for other parents?”
“How can we expect support at home with Bible homework or principles of Christian living when the mother’s life is so at odds with our church’s moral principles?”

The members of that church’s school board were faithful, believing Christians. But their gut reaction was not from an attitude of new life in Christ. The pastor reminded them of how Jesus’ own ministry reached out to prostitutes and other public sinners. Still, though, they struggled to get past their aversions. Each of us typically has the same aversions. Our thought process is something like, “Well, yes, I know prostitutes and drug addicts and alcoholics and ex-convicts all need to hear the gospel … but do they have to do it in our church?”

Eventually, the Christian love in the hearts of the members of that church committee rose to the occasion. They talked about the spiritual welfare of the child and how it was unthinkable to turn him away from the gospel he so loved when he heard it at VBS. They talked about a mother who, in spite of her personal history, was willing to listen to Bible teaching—and about trusting the dynamic power of the gospel’s teaching. So Sally’s son was enrolled in school, and Sally was enrolled in a Bible information class. Long story short, not only was Sally’s son nurtured in the good news of Jesus, but also Sally herself was brought to faith and made changes in her life.

May our attitude as Christians be inspired by the goodness the Lord has shown to us. May we be big-hearted and open-armed and opportunistic when it comes to declaring the praises of him who has called us “out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). May we not be content declaring God’s name only to persons with whom we feel a sort of safeness, people who look like us or act like us or come from the same sort of background as us. May we be bold to extend our hands and express our beliefs also to those very different from ourselves—whether that means different racial or ethnic backgrounds, or different religious backgrounds, or different moral backgrounds. Because, in the end, as human beings, we all came from the same background of needing God in our lives. We ought not think of ourselves as somehow better than others, somehow more deserving than others, somehow more inherently righteous than others. We all do well to say, in a paraphrase of St. Paul, “There, but for the grace of God, go I” (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:9-10). Or, to quote Paul directly from one of his epistles, “There is no distinction [between us], since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God [and] are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:22-24).

That is the message we seek to share, across every human barrier that exists. God’s love is for all. Christ’s good news is for all. We will share that love and good news with all. May God give us eagerness and energy to extend his grace and support the spread of his Word to everyone everywhere.

Prayer: “Lord speak to us, that we may speak in living echoes of your tone. As you have sought, so let us seek your straying children, lost and lone” (Evangelical Lutheran Worship 676:1). Amen.

*This story was previously published in Faith Lives in Our Actions by David Sellnow, available on Amazon.com.

**A version of this story, expanded from the actual events, was included in the book, The Lord Cares for Me, by David Sellnow, available on Amazon.com.

Jan

2022

Hidden in Plain Sight

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Thoughts for Epiphany (January 6) and for the Baptism of our Lord (Sunday after Epiphany)
David Sellnow

They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if there is a God, we need him now
“Where is your God”
That’s what my friends ask me
And I say it’s taken him so long
‘Cause we’ve got so far to come

-Stevie Wonder, “Heaven is 10 Zillion Light Years Away,” Fulfillingness’ First Finale (Tamla, 1974)

Some of you might recognize those lyrics from a Stevie Wonder song from 1974. It was the case then–and remains the case always–that human eyes look for evidence of God’s presence in big, obvious ways. We think that if our lives are overflowing with an abundance of wealth and good health, that’s when God is with us. When times are hard, we assume we’ve been abandoned and God isn’t there. There are problems with this point of view. For one thing, having riches and success rarely indicates how close to God a person is. In fact, many powerful, successful persons often achieve such glories by godlessness–not by prioritizing kindness and walking humbly in the ways of God (cf. Micah 6:8). Another thing: The testimony of Scripture shows that God never abandons those who trust in his name, and he is especially with us in the experiences that challenge our faith in him.

Think of Job, who lost all his wealth and lost loved ones and cried out wondering where God was. God knew everything and was, in fact, striving to connect Job’s heart even closer to his own.
Think of the parables Jesus told. It was not the well-to-do Pharisee who was right with God as he bragged proudly of how much he’d done. The social pariah, the tax collector, who prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 9:13)–that’s who Jesus said was exalted in God’s eyes.
It was not the rich man “dressed in purple and fine linen … who feasted sumptuously every day” that ascended into heaven on the day he died (Luke 18:19-31). The beggar who sat in the street outside the rich man’s home, whose only friends were stray dogs that licked his open sores–that’s the person Jesus said was blessed.

When we look at the world through our usual human perspective, we don’t see God in action in the obvious ways we want to see.

The way we see things and the way things really often are out of alignment. As we go about our lives, we focus on physical, material, tangible things that can easily be measured. We are not attuned to sensing spiritual realities–the ways that in God “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Psychologists have noticed something called “inattentional blindness” in how we interpret the world. Rather than noticing each detail around us, we tend to concentrate on the things most important to us. We see things in the context of existing mental frameworks that we have adopted (Kendra Cherry, “Inattentional Blindness in Psychology, VeryWellMind, 5/4/2020). If you’ll allow me to apply that principle in a broader way, our earthbound primary focus notices the flow of what’s happening outwardly in our lives, and we miss many details of what God is doing in and through and underneath those events. While “no one has ever seen God” (John 1:18), the hand of God is evident in things that can be seen. “Ever since the creation of the world, God’s eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made” (Romans 1:20). But we tend not to look past outward appearances, and so we miss seeing important truths. “Focusing our attention on one thing can cause us to overlook another” even if the other is right in front of us. (Daniel Nevers, “A Brief History of Hiding in Plain Sight, Mills College Art Museum, 2019). That’s how we tend to be with the manifestations of God that are given to us. God shows himself, but human beings mostly fail to pay attention to these evidences of God. Spiritual realities escape our notice, hidden in plain sight all around us.

Think about the ways God made himself known when Jesus Christ came into our world. There were clear manifestations of the miracle of redemption God was bringing about, but most people’s attention was aimed in other directions. When God chooses to make his presence seen and known, he often does so in what seem like insignificant ways.

When Jesus was born, he arrived in one of the world’s least significant places, the little town of Bethlehem. The King of kings might be expected to be found in a palace, at the center of politics and power. Yet when astronomers from an eastern land came looking for him in Jerusalem, the king in Jerusalem had to consult Jewish religious scholars to ask where the Messiah was to be born (Matthew 2:4).
The woman who had given birth to Jesus was no one of fame or acclaim. She and Joseph, the legal father of the virgin-born child Jesus, both were “descended from the house and family line of David” (Luke 2:4), but otherwise they were pretty much nobodies. Joseph was a carpenter (Matthew 13:55). Mary was his teenage wife, who herself said the Lord had “looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” when choosing her to bear the Christ child in her womb (Luke 1:48).
When Jesus was anointed to begin his work as Teacher and Savior, there was no grand national ceremony with parades and dignitaries. Rather, John, a cousin of Jesus, served as the prophet to point to Jesus as the Messiah. John lived in the wilderness by the Jordan River, wearing clothing of camel’s hair and subsisting on a diet of locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4). John proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mark 1:4), and people did come to be baptized. Then Jesus requested that John baptize him also–“to fulfill all righteousness,” as Jesus insisted (Matthew 3:15). At Jesus’ baptism, “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (Luke 3:22). But I wonder if most people who were there when that happened heard and saw things differently. “Look at that, a dove just landed on him,” I imagine many said, not understanding the spiritual significance. And, as happened on another occasion when the Father spoke audibly from heaven, rather than hearing the words “This is my Son, the Beloved,” the crowd standing there may well have thought, “Was that thunder?” (cf. John 12:28-29).

Our eyes and ears aren’t attuned in such a way that we grasp the workings of God, even when they happen right in front of us. Think of baptism itself, the holy act by which God claims us as his own. What do we see? Ordinary water, nothing special. A few simple words, as we are baptized into “the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). When we have our baptisms, there is no dove that miraculously appears or audible voice speaking from the skies. But with eyes of faith, we confess that “baptism is not simply plain water,” but that “it is water used according to God’s command and connected with God’s word.” We believe beyond what we can see, that baptism “brings about forgiveness of sins, redeems from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism). So also with communion, the Lord’s Supper. We eat and drink the most basic sorts of things – little bits of bread, small sips of wine. But because such simple actions were directed by Christ himself, whoever believes his words “has what they declare, namely, forgiveness of sin” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism).

Such is God’s way of making himself known to us, his way of connecting himself to us, of doing the miraculous for us. It’s not typically in the spectacular, but in things that seem everyday and ordinary. Do you remember Naaman, “commander of the army of the king of Aram, a great man and in high favor”–but who suffered from the disease of leprosy (2 Kings 5:1)? Naaman had a slave girl who had been captured from the people of Israel. The slave girl urged her master Naaman to go see the prophet in Israel for healing. Naaman went to Israel, and the prophet Elisha merely sent a messenger to tell him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times and he’d be healed (2 Kings 5:10). Naaman became angry and began to leave, because he was expecting some great and mighty prophet to “come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord” and wave his hand over Naaman in dramatic fashion and cure the disease (2 Kings 5:11). Naaman had to be convinced by others of his servants, who said to him, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it” (2 Kings 5:13)? So, Naaman did the simple thing the prophet had said, and he was healed.

That’s how it often is with God. As Elisha’s teacher, Elijah, had learned, don’t expect God to show up by splitting mountains in half or shaking the earth beneath our feet. God more likely will make his presence known in what Elijah heard as the “sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12), or “a still, small voice,” as the King James Version of the Bible expressed it. Every day, in all sorts of seemingly ordinary ways, God makes his presence known and shares his grace by the life and witness of people who are acting in his name.

There is the son who visits his elderly mother every weekend, spends time with her, takes care of chores around the house for her, cooks a meal for her. And when she has to go to a nursing home, the son continues to visit, even as his mother becomes more confined, her health diminishes, and her memory fades away.
There is the mother whose toddler is throwing a tantrum and cannot calm down, so she sits down on the floor and gathers the child in her arms and just holds on, closely, securely, through all the kicks and screams, until the toddler finally melts into her embrace and hugs her back and says, “I’m sorry, Momma. I love you, Momma.”
There is the student who sees a schoolmate being picked on by others, avoided and ostracized and gossiped about for being different–and this classmate seeks out and befriends the outcast. They sit together in the cafeteria, spend time together studying and not studying (just hanging out), making it clear to everyone that acceptance and understanding are better than prejudice and pettiness.

Those could be just human actions of kindness, yes. In many cases, though, they are far more than that. They are the acts of God’s people making God’s love known in the ordinary course of events, doing things that are, in fact, extraordinary. God is working to make himself known to others through you–ordinary people in your everyday lives. Nothing spectacular. Nothing dazzling. Just you laboring patiently to serve your family, your neighbors, your community. Just you loving earnestly and committedly, caring for others with hearts that have been invigorated by the Spirit of Christ. That’s your calling as God’s people. God says to each of you, “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. … You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:1,4). He also says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:2). How does that help, that strength, that rescue from the Lord usually show up in your lives when you are hurting or in trouble? Through the actions of people doing simple things, basic, necessary things, in God’s name. The neighbor who shovels your sidewalk or snowblows your driveway–because he knows you are away from home, caring for a sick relative. Fellow church members who take turns dropping off meals at your home–because you are the caregiver for a disabled family member or for your spouse who is going through chemotherapy, and they want to help bear your burdens. Complete strangers who contribute to an online plea for funds to help with extensive medical bills incurred from a major surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital ICU recovering from disease.

Every now and then, God has intervened in history with supernatural interruptions of natural events. But more often, God does his work through us, his people, in less astonishing ways. Let me remind you again of the experience of God’s prophet Elijah. Elijah had the experience of God making his presence obvious and forceful and explosive. Elijah prevailed over the enemies of God by calling on God to do a miracle, to consume a sacrifice with fire sent from heaven. And God did so, spectacularly. “The fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench” around Elijah’s offering (1 Kings 18:38). But the perspective of the world doesn’t readily change when a miracle like that happens. In fact, the enemies of God (and of Elijah) only got more determined against God’s plans and against God’s prophet. Death threats were issued from the royal household against Elijah, and he ran. He ran back to the mountain where God had once revealed himself to Moses, and felt ready to die. “I’ve had enough,” he said to God. “Take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Instead, God told him to get up and he would reveal himself to Elijah. God did show himself, but not in expected ways. Not in a mighty, raging wind. Not in a rock-smashing earthquake. God revealed himself In a still, small voice, in the “sound of sheer silence” (I kings 19).

God’s powerful presence is often in the still, small voice–a voice carried out into the world by individuals, one at a time, by people like Elijah, by people like you and me. God’s way of enacting change in the hearts of people, one person at a time, is by the simple testimony of his words on our lips and his love lived out in our lives. He brings about the miracle of salvation by one baptism, then another baptism, then another, sending his Spirit to live in each baptized person’s heart and life. He carries out the actions of salvation in our hearts and lives, as we who have been saved by grace through faith, “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Ephesians 3:10), go about doing those works on behalf of one another, and for our neighbors, and for our communities.

When you feel like God is 10 zillion light years away, like God is so far distant from your life that you wonder if he’s even there at all, look again. Listen again. Feel again. Take notice of the little things, the inconspicuous ways that God is showing himself. Others’ actions. Your own actions. All the everyday words and actions whereby God makes his presence known and shares his peace among us. The smallest of kind words and actions toward one of the least of those whom Jesus considers his brothers and sisters are gifts to Jesus and blessings from Jesus (cf. Matthew 25:40). As Martin Luther taught, “God is so in control that the good we do is really God’s work. We’re nothing but the hands of Christ …. In the good we do, we are ‘little Christs’ to each other” (Luther’s Works, Vol.34, p.111, Volu.24, p.226, Vol. 31, p.367-368, quoted by Mark Ellingson in Living Lutheran, August 11, 2017). May our lives each day appreciate and extend the Epiphany of Christ in this way.

Jul

2021

Time to Have our Hearts Checked

Hearts Full of Faith Beat Boldly in Christ

Ephesians 3:14-21, with reference to 2 Kings 4:42-44 and John 6:1-21; 9th Sunday after Pentecost

by David Sellnow

Ask kids what their favorite foods are. They’ll more likely say hot dogs, candy bars, and chips than tuna, spinach, or brussels sprouts. We don’t always wise up and change our habits when we become adults. I had a roommate one summer after college who, as far as I could tell, ingested nothing all summer long except coffee and cigarettes and occasionally mooched slices of pizza. I wouldn’t say he was the picture of health, but then, with my pizza, neither was I.

Some years ago, a study was done on the blood vessels of presumably healthy young adults (between ages 15 and 34) who died from causes other than illness. Among those in their early 30s, they found that 20% of males and 8% of females already had advanced stages of plaque buildup in their arteries. The American Heart Association has recommendations on cholesterol intake, on what foods to avoid or eat only in moderation. But as a leading doctor on that research team said, “It’s a hard sell [to] teenagers …. I have a grandson who, despite all our family discussions, still orders the double cheeseburger with bacon and fries.”

As you probably can guess, this Electric Gospel post isn’t primarily about your cardiovascular health. Each of us has a spiritual heart in us also, and what goes into our spiritual heart will determine our spiritual well-being. Let’s consider how hearts full of faith beat boldly in Christ; hearts that take in the love and strength of Christ will live in love and strength.

Consider words from this day’s Epistle lesson, Ephesians 3:14-19:

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

When you begin a check-up on your spiritual heart’s condition, you realize that your spiritual heartbeat itself is a gift from God. When Paul said “for this reason” he thanked the Father, the reason is a theme that runs through the whole preceding portion of his Ephesian epistle: God’s saving activity for his people. God gave Christ as the Savior of the world; God raised Christ from death to reign in glory; God brought these Ephesians to trust in Christ rather than in idols; God caused the church at Ephesus to begin and grow; God gave these people a unity of heart and mind to work together for Christ’s kingdom. For all of it, God was responsible and God was to be praised. He is the one from whom the Ephesians received their spiritual heartbeat; he is the one from whom his whole family derives its name.

The same is true for us. We were in a dead, sinful state before God brought our spirits to life in the miracle of baptism. From that moment on God has been the one to strengthen and preserve faith in our hearts. In order for us to stay healthy spiritually, we need a steady, nourishing diet provided by God’s Spirit. Soaking in all the stuff you can absorb from contemporary culture can progressively harm your soul, like junk food impacts our bodies. You can get temporary boosts to your emotions or thoughts with other things, like you can artificially stimulate your body with substances like coffee and cigarettes. But there is just “one thing needful” (Luke 10:42 KJV) that can truly keep our spiritual selves healthy: the good news of love and forgiveness in Jesus.

Admittedly though, our sinful side doesn’t want the good things God gives. When the children of Israel were fed by God with manna in the desert, suited to meet all their nutritional needs, what did they say? “We detest this miserable food” (Numbers 21:5). They wanted other things (cf. Numbers 20:5). They got tired of what the Lord was giving them. We do the same thing spiritually. We look at what God is giving us in the Bible and in church, and we say, “Too much manna all the time!” We gravitate toward video games over Bible reading. We find streaming TV more interesting than sermons. We follow sports events and statistics more diligently than we search the Scriptures.

But it is through the gospel that Christ establishes himself in our hearts. We come to see how wide and long and high and deep the love of Christ is. We get to “know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” Paul knew the amazing heights and depths of Christ’s love. He once wrote, “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy …. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost” (1 Timothy 1:13-15). Christ died for every sinner, for the worst of sinners. That includes you and me.

Those who by God’s Spirit come to know this wonderful truth about Jesus’ love then overflow with that love. Hearts that are “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” will result in lives that are healthy, vibrant, and active in joyful service to others.

So, are you feeling healthy, vibrant, and full of love and joy and service? Or are you feeling a little tired, feeling worn down, feeling old? It’s not easy going through the stages of life–whether in our own individual lives or the shared life of a congregation. The Christians at Ephesus were in the first years of their church experience when Paul wrote his Epistle to the Ephesians. Paul had started the ministry in Ephesus in the late 50s. [Not the 1950s — just the 50s, the first century AD.] His letter to the Ephesians was sent back to them around the year 62. Another apostle, John, served in Ephesus later as part of his ministry. Around 95 AD, when persecution exiled John to an island off the coast from the areas he’d served, John had a different sort of letter to send to the Ephesian congregation. Jesus himself spoke these words:

I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance. I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers; you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false. I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember then from what you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first (Revelation 2:2-5).

In our individual lives, as we get older, it can be hard to maintain the passion and energy and zest for life that we had when we were younger. We may be stable and solid, but we can also get a bit stodgy, a bit stale, a bit set in our ways. Congregations can be that way, too, as they age. We can lose the love that we had at first. We grow weary. We become more mundane than spiritual, more routine than revitalized, more dreary than dynamic.

We need a reminder of the refrain that Paul put at the end of his prayer for the Ephesian church, the final verses of today’s epistle lesson: To him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever (Ephesians 3:20-21).

Too many times in our churches, we think small thoughts about our ministries. We want our congregation, our little corner of God’s kingdom, to do okay. We focus on scraping together what we’ll need to maintain what we’ve got, fund our budget, populate our programs and committees. Meanwhile, while we’re thinking about earthbound goals of that sort, God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. God has plans for our futures that we don’t even envision. Christ says, “My power is at work within you. My gospel is like dynamite for you, exploding with love and truth and joy and will accomplish more than you’d ever think could be done.”

Consider the other experiences which were related in the Bible readings for this Sunday. People didn’t think there was enough food to go around. In Elisha’s day, there was a famine in the land (2 Kings 4:38). Yet by the Lord’s grace, one sack of bread and grain became enough to feed 100 men in ministry training (the school of the prophets). When throngs of people kept following Jesus and had no food other than one boy who had a handful of bread loaves and a couple of fish, Jesus had no difficulty in making sure all were fed (cf. John 6:1-21). Often we think like the servant of Elisha, who looked at the resources they had and the need in front of them and said, “How can I set this before a hundred people?” (2 Kings 4:43). We can be like the disciple of Jesus who saw thousands of mouths to feed and said, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little” (John 6:7). When we find ourselves in situations where it seems like our cupboards are empty, or our strength is gone, or storms are swirling and raging, our tendency is to think we are sunk, we will starve, we will wither away. But when we think there are no solutions, Christ creates solutions. The Lord calls on us to start with what we have and do our best. He calls us to use every opportunity and resource and talent we’ve been given and trust Christ to make it enough, to multiply it, to expand our realities beyond anything we ever thought possible.

That’s how it has always been in the history of God’s people. When his people were held in bondage in Egypt, they didn’t imagine they could be rescued. Then plagues pressured a powerful ruler to let them go; God’s miracles enabled an exodus and a return of God’s people to their own land. When the earliest Christians were banned from the temple in Jerusalem and shunned from synagogues, when they had no church buildings of their own and were persecuted as if they were some dangerous cult, they could not have imagined that in time, the Christian faith would become predominant throughout the whole Roman Empire. When the organized church got sidetracked in the centuries that followed and became stuck in its institutionalism, in its rituals and rules, in its laws and legalism, the people didn’t dream there was much hope left in the church. Their hope grew fainter still after a horrible pandemic (the Black Death) had ravaged their communities and killed a third of the population, and the church’s highest-ranking clergy had no answers. (They were more likely to preach fire and brimstone than provide comfort or reassurance.) But then the Spirit of God raised up voices of reformation, voices such as John Wycliffe, Jan Hus, Martin Luther. The good news of Jesus and the riches of his mercy were proclaimed again with eagerness and energy and grace and renewal for everyone.

You may be at a time in your life right now where you are starving for sustenance and don’t know where it will come from. You may be at a time in your congregation right now where you have mostly questions and no clear picture of what’s on the horizon for your future. But be assured of this. Our God is “able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). The love of Christ is wider and longer and higher and deeper than you could ever measure (cf. Ephesians 3:18). Keep feeding on the Bread of Life, the spiritual food that Christ gives us, the life and truth that is Christ. He will fill your heart’s need, and he will revive your strength.

Lift up your eyes on high and see: .. [God] is great in strength, mighty in power ….
Why do you say … “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God”?
Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:26-31).

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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.

Mar

2021

Cheering on Sunday, Jeering by Friday

On what has become known as Palm Sunday, in the Holy Land two millennia ago, the great crowd that had come for the Passover festival “heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,’Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord–the King of Israel!’” The religious leaders in the city said to one another, “Look, the world has gone after him!” (John 12:12-13,19).

Early in the morning on Friday of that same week, “all the chief priests and the elders of the people conferred together against Jesus in order to bring about his death. They bound him, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate the governor. … Now at the festival, the governor was accustomed to release a prisoner for the crowd, anyone whom they wanted. At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Jesus Barabbas. So after they had gathered, Pilate said to them, ‘Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?’ For he realized that it was out of jealousy that they had handed him over. … The chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowds to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus killed. The governor again said to them, ‘Which of the two do you want me to release for you?’ And they said, ‘Barabbas.’ Pilate said to them, ‘Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?’ All of them said, ‘Let him be crucified!’” (Matthew 27:1-2,15-18,20-22).

More than a Fair-Weather Friend

by David Sellnow

When you look at the events of Holy Week, you quickly see that there were fair-weather friends of Jesus in Jerusalem. They had heard about Jesus’ miracles, including the amazing act of raising a man named Lazarus from death (cf. John 11). Lazarus and his sisters lived just outside Jerusalem in the town of Bethany, and they were dear friends of his. The people who cheered Jesus as he came from Bethany into Jerusalem wanted so badly to be Jesus’ friends. They were fans. To them, he was a pop hero. They would have made him their king if they could. They hoped he could fulfill all their dreams, rescue their country from the Romans, put bread on their tables, miraculously heal all their diseases, and more. But they discovered that Jesus did not intend to be the type of messiah they wished for. He would not make earthly life a paradise. Instead, he sat and talked during that week about the kingdom of heaven and the end of the world and the judgment of God and spiritual truth. Most people turned away from him and ultimately turned against him. They fell in line with the religious establishment’s rejection of Jesus, and by week’s end were shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” They became so vehement in their anger against Jesus that they were willing to call down curses on themselves in demanding his death. “His blood be on us and on our children!” the people as a whole said to the governor who held Jesus’ fate in his hands (Matthew 27:25).

The Palm Sunday cheering crowd became a dramatic example of fair-weather friends of Jesus. They had looked to Jesus primarily for what they could get from him. When they weren’t satisfied, they wanted to get rid of him.

There were other friends of Jesus who did not turn against him, but they did turn away from him for a time. Jesus’ closest friends, his inner circle of disciples, proved to be fair-weather friends when the storm of opposition hit. Judas, one of them, became an outright enemy and betrayer. The other eleven, in fear, ran away when Jesus was arrested. They struggled to follow and stand with Jesus in the way the proverb had described: “A friend loves at all times, and kinsfolk are born to share adversity” (Proverbs 17:17).

Thinking of friends in adversity, there’s a caution to note in that regard too. People can fall into a pattern of being only foul-weather friends of Jesus too. What I mean is that sometimes a person calls out to Jesus in times of trouble and distress, and then forgets about him when the crisis is gone. Think, for instance, of the ten lepers whom Jesus met along the border between Samaria and Galilee. All ten of them cried out to him in their sickness, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” (Luke 17:13). And Jesus had mercy; he healed them of their disease. But only one came back to offer Jesus thanks. You might say the other nine were “foul-weather friends” of Jesus. When they had a problem, they prayed and prayed, but when the problem was gone, they went on about their business with Jesus out of sight and out of mind.

There are still fair-weather and foul-weather friends of Jesus today. Some neglect him or ignore him. Some turn on him. Some who are now Jesus’ most vocal enemies were once his believing friends. Why do persons turn away from God and become enemies of the gospel? Maybe their hearts become hard or their desires worldly. Maybe they didn’t get from God the answers they wanted and then stopped listening to his message.

Have we ever been that way? Have we been fair-weather believers, trusting and following Jesus as long as things are good, then giving up and trying to go it on our own when difficulties arise? Or have we been foul-weather friends, coming to Jesus in desperation when we have deep needs in our lives, but losing connection with him when the need is satisfied?

Though we often may fall into patterns of only fair-weather or only foul-weather friendship toward Jesus, the good news is that he is constant in his commitment and friendship toward us. He is a Savior for all seasons, whether the weather of our lives is fair or foul. When times are good, it is he who is blessing us. When times are frightening, he is the one who gives us hope and security. More than anyone else, Jesus epitomizes what a true friend is and does. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends,” Jesus himself said (John 15:13), and then he did exactly that.

Jesus also said to his friends, his disciples (and to us): “You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:14). He calls us to be the kind of friends to one another and to all persons that he has been to us.

Jesus’ commitment to humanity was so strong that he weathered all possible scorn and abuse and rejection by the very people he came to serve and save. He was abandoned by those closest to him and suffered a death of isolation under the judgment of heaven itself. He did all this to reclaim us as his friends, to redeem us from our fickle and faithless ways. He promises that even “if we are faithless, he remains faithful” (2 Timothy 2:13).

God grant that the redeeming work Jesus carried out for us, which we remember during this Holy Week, move our hearts to a deep and lasting relationship with him as our Lord and dearest friend — not just in fair weather or foul, but every day in every way.

—–

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.

Mar

2021

Legalism obscures the gospel

Last week, I came across an article in which one of our country’s congressmen was interviewed about his convictions–both political and spiritual. I found it interesting to hear a lawmaker’s view that the church, as he had experienced it, was far too much about law. (He since has affiliated with a less rigid congregation.) He described the form of religious upbringing he had as “really damaging … a very damaging religion.” He elaborated on what he had experienced: “The best way to put it is your salvation is by faith alone unless you do something wrong–and then you were never saved in the first place. And by the way, we have these really strict rules that you have to follow that nobody can follow, but everybody at the church is going to act like they are and you’re the only one that isn’t.” That sort of legalism, the lawmaker said, “took the joy out of Christianity.” He says he now understands that “Christ spent his time hanging out with sinners, not great people–and not because they were sinners but because that’s just where his compassion was.” He believes it is appropriate to “admonish the Church for the real damage it has done to Christianity” (A.Kinzinger, quoted in “The Man Who Refused to Bow,” by P.Wehner).

The descriptions sounded all too familiar. An excessive legalism has been an issue within Christianity from the days of the church’s beginnings. Read about the controversy in the early church over circumcision (Acts 15) or Paul’s letter to the Galatians, and you’ll see that to be true.

During my ministry years, I was asked to research and report on “legalism among us” to a district church conference. There was ample awareness that the problem persisted in our midst. The problem always exists, so it is continually appropriate to share thoughts on this topic. I’ll offer here a brief excerpt from the essay I presented to that church conference in the springtime twenty-some years ago.

Legalism Among Us

by David Sellnow
(excerpted from essay presented in April, 1995)

Not everyone agrees on just what can be called “legalism.” One brother whom I asked narrowed the thought primarily to that of work-righteousness: “Legalism is an attitude of law that feels I can be saved by it.” But most whom I consulted saw legalistic implications being more far-reaching. They offered expanded definitions:

“We become entangled in legalism when we try to take God’s place in establishing divine laws about what is right and what is wrong.”
“Placing the Christian for all practical purposes again under the law–this is legalism.”
“Letting the law predominate in our ministry rather than the gospel = being legalistic instead of evangelical.”
“Legalism is a confusion of law and gospel in which the law is used to accomplish the purposes of the gospel or the gospel is made into a law.”

The Webster’s dictionary that sits on my desk lists two meanings for legalism. The second one is the special theological one: “The doctrine of salvation by good works.” The first listed meaning is the common one that most comes to mind, however, including in reference to religion: “Strict, often too strict and literal, adherence to law or to a code.” I believe that meaning fits well what most of us mean by legalism most of the time. Where does this kind of legalism show itself among us in the church?

One arena is the midst of doctrinal controversies, where the promotion of one dogmatic position over another takes precedence over Scripture. Some will approach Scripture with an opinion or position of their own and try to make proof texts say what they want them to say by gymnastic exegesis. Others will rely on the tradition of what the church has long held and practiced without doing thorough study. Neither approach starts with the gospel plan of God in mind and works forward from there. Both ways start with a law or principle decided upon–either by tradition or by rejection of tradition–and from there try to figure out how the gospel fits with it.

Image credit: Bible Study Tools – https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-study/topical-studies/what-is-legalism.html

Traditionalism, in particular, all too easily lapses into legalism. Overly zealous traditionalism will reject something because it isn’t what we’re used to. We fix guilt to practices that God’s law neither commands nor forbids. Religious leaders insist on practices which Scripture leaves to our Christian freedom. The freedom of the gospel is undermined by intolerant clergy, who suggest there is something inherently wrong with an activity even though God’s Word has not spoken in the matter. The church becomes characterized by loveless criticism of each other, pressure for conformity to a certain pattern, rushing to judgment, nitpicking, and condemning every deviation from the usual ways.

The practice of discipline in the church is another area where legalism tends to take hold. I knew of a congregation that had a written policy saying inactive members would be sent a series of four letters, according to a specific timetable. If the member did not respond and become active accordingly, after the fourth letter excommunication was automatic. At an elders’ board meeting at a congregation where I interned, the head elder suggested a similar strategy in that church. Thankfully, the senior pastor blocked that proposal with reminders of our gospel mission. Nevertheless, church discipline overall remains a danger zone for legalistic tendencies. This is true both in the local congregation and in discipline of congregations and pastors as exercised by church body officials. What is our mood, our spirit? Is it, “Throw the rascals out!” and “Get rid of the dead wood”? Or is our goal to snatch others from the fire and have mercy on those who are wavering (Jude 23)? May we do everything we can to ensure that love stemming from the gospel characterizes all our actions and no unnecessary offense is caused.

How we view other Christians and interact with them also becomes a casualty of legalistic tendencies. We fail to recognize the fellowship that exists between us when we fixate on our differences. In his commentary on Galatians (1957), J.P Koehler offered a thought in regard to Galatians 2:19 (“For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God”). Koehler wrote: “Formerly, sin was the element of my life when I tried to keep the law. Now, in the place of sin, God and his will are the goal and the guiding principle of my life.” The contrast is between living life to avoid sin (as under the law) versus living life to enjoy the blessings of God, basking in the joy of the gospel. Applying that thought to the issue of Christian fellowship, do we primarily aim to keep the unworthy and the unorthodox away, or do we mainly seek a positive, joyful expression of appreciation for the unity in Christ that we share? Taken to the extreme, we may act as though even to breathe in the direction of those outside our own denomination is sinful, and adopt a separatistic attitude which forbids all contact with those who are not of our own specific church. Is it not true that Jesus said, “Whoever is not against us is for us” (Mark 9:40)? A genuinely evangelical (gospel-driven) attitude appreciates faith in Christ wherever it is found.

As witnesses of Christ who are called to proclaim the good news in Christ, we will work to keep the gospel central and paramount in all our thinking, saying and doing… and be patient and evangelical with each other when differences occur. A law-oriented outlook will keep trying to rear up and take control of us in one direction or another, in our individual Christian lives, in our parishes, in church bodies. To maintain an awareness of how and where the law seeks to reclaim us is vital to our ongoing spiritual health. Any form of religious life not motivated by the gospel is an outgrowth of the law. May God be with us so that more and more, all our words and practices and efforts are readily apparent as products of the gospel, aimed at bringing hope and salvation–not distrust and fear.

Oct

2020

When you realize everything you were was wrong

Becoming aware that mercy triumphs over judgment

by David Sellnow

The evangelist Luke, chronicler of the Acts of the Apostles, was a writer who sought to give “an orderly account” of events (cf. Luke 1:3). Luke’s reporting concerning the conversion of Saul (also known as Paul) sticks to the facts of what happened. Saul had been “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1). He sought permission from the highest religious authorities to go to Syria to round up followers of “the Way” — believers in Jesus as the Christ. Saul wanted to take them into custody and bring them back to Jerusalem as religious criminals. The Lord had other plans. He blinded Saul with light from heaven and said, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Those traveling with Saul “led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank” (Acts 9:8-9). In Damascus, Saul was brought into the Christian community and baptized, and “began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God’” (Acts 9:20).

Today, we’re used to journalists asking, “How did you feel?” when they interview persons after some life-changing experience. Luke didn’t pause to provide insights into Saul’s emotional state. We can well imagine the shock of it, though — suddenly becoming aware that everything he thought and everything he’d done had been aimed in the wrong direction. He had felt he was serving God by the rigid religious principles he pursued. But his insistence on his own rightness had prevented him from seeing what a merciful God really had in mind. In the encounter on the Damascus road, Jesus had said to Saul, “It hurts you to kick against the goads” (Acts 26:14). Like a work animal kicking back against a master prodding it forward, Saul was resisting the message of grace that God was calling him and all people to believe. Rather than striving to squelch and suppress those who had come to see Jesus as Christ, the Messiah, Saul should have been joining “the Way” and working with them. And by God’s grace, that’s exactly what he then did. As the Apostle Paul, he later expressed his amazement that even though he had been “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence,” yet he received mercy because he “had acted ignorantly in unbelief.” He was awed by the grace of God that overflowed to him “with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 1:13).

The Epistle lesson for this Sunday (the 18th Sunday after Pentecost) provides another window into how Paul felt about his conversion from self-righteous Pharisee to someone trusting in the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Paul wrote:

If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.
Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith (Philippians 3:4b-9).

In the church today, the tendency easily resurfaces to become adamant against “sinners” and “heretics,” the way Paul was prior to his face-to-face encounter with Jesus. Being convinced of one’s rightness and propriety can lead to overzealous efforts to keep the church “pure,” purged of those who aren’t the “right sort” of persons. When that thinking sets in, the fact that no one is the “right sort” of person has been forgotten. The truth is that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and all are to be extended the mercy in Jesus’ name without distinctions or prejudices. The purpose of the church is not to police people’s opinions and condemn those who don’t comply with existing traditions. In fact, the Lord is unhappy with those who try to impose their own expectations and restrictions on others. “For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13). Love and mercy and welcome are to be shown to “a poor person in dirty clothes” who comes into a church assembly no differently than if a rich person “with gold rings and fine clothes” walked through the door (James 2:2). God is defined by love and mercy toward all persons more so than by laws and policies and dress codes and rules.

If you catch yourself thinking that your religious convictions are elevated above others, or that there are certain types of persons you don’t want in your church with you, be careful. You may be kicking against the Lord, insisting on maintaining a form of spiritual inertia rather than moving forward in mercy where the Lord calls you to go. What you have thought may need to be discarded as rubbish, compared to “the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus as Lord” (Philippians 3:8), and the compelling mission of extending mercy to all others in his name.

—-

Learning how to forgive — forgive freely, but not cheaply

As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.

We pray to the One who is faithful, even when we are faithless

Acknowledging our ability to be of service to others

A message for the 5th Sunday of Easter

“Love for All, Good News for All”

Readings to consider: Acts 11:1-18, John 13:31-35

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Hearts Full of Faith Beat Boldly in Christ

More than a Fair-Weather Friend

Legalism Among Us

Becoming aware that mercy triumphs over judgment

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