Speak Your Hope
1 Peter 3:13-22; Acts 17:22-31; John 14:15-22
“Whenever anyone asks you to speak of your hope, be ready to defend it” (1 Peter 3:15 CEB). Eugene Peterson reads Peter’s words this way: “Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you’re living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy.” Can you do that? Can you explain the hope you have in Jesus Christ?
Here’s an old joke. What do you get when you cross a Presbyterian with a Jehovah’s Witness? Someone who knocks on doors but doesn’t have anything to say. In fairness to Presbyterians, the joke works with almost any old line Protestant denomination (Methodists, Lutherans, Episcopalians). Can you explain your hope in Jesus Christ?
Karen and Bruce Henderson have been telling us about Meriam Yehye Ibrahim, the Sudanese woman who has been sentenced to a 100 lashes for adultery because she married a Christian and to be hung because she refused to recant her declaration that she is a Christian. She is the kind of believer to whom Peter was writing. When Peter’s letter was circulating, Christians were being persecuted by Roman imperial edict. He was addressing real suffering for the faith.
Thankfully, and regretfully, we don’t have to face that oppression. But our lives aren’t completely devoid of persecution. It isn’t physical, but it is verbal. “What do you mean you can’t come on Sunday morning?” “You would rather go to a meeting at church than have me drop by for a visit?” “Why don’t you shop on Sunday? Everyone does.” Speak your hope. Don’t mumble apologies.
Back to our speechless door-knocker joke. What is your hope? You don’t need a dissertation. Fifty or a hundred words ought to do it. Is your hope located in the future? Is it pearly gates, golden streets, multi-roomed mansions the opposite of unmitigated heat and flames and eternal agony? Or is your hope an on-going reality of a right relationship with God and with neighbors made possible through the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ?
Our hope starts out very simply. We probably learned the core of it as a child: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” As we grow and mature, we wrestle with that simple statement. What does it really mean? What does it mean to me? We wander around in our thinking. The statement is too simplistic. We don’t understand the Bible. Only parts of It make sense. We latch on to a few verses and try to hang our whole faith on it. That works for a while until something upsets the equilibrium. Perhaps we reach the point where we realize that our hope is not something static or unchanging. God does something that knocks down the security of a narrow or rigid understanding we had grown comfortable with. And we need to re-examine what it is that we believe.
I saw a post on Facebook this past week which said: “Your life is your message to the world. Make sure it is inspiring.” That’s the kind of situation that Peter envisions. The believers he was writing to and for would be persecuted for their faith alone because unbelievers would have no charges to bring against them except to question them on their “hope.”
Unbelievers can see that Christians have something different; only “hope” gives us strength and joy in hardships and persecutions. Unbelievers will ask about it; believers must be ready to tell them. Christians need not worry about what they should say if accused, for they could prepare their defense ahead of time! Even in a hostile situation, believers can witness for Christ; their words might cause an accuser to come to faith. Paul certainly took advantage of every situation, no matter how hostile. Peter says that all Christians can and should be ready and able to give a reasonable defense of their faith. No one expects us to be a theologian like Martin Luther, John Calvin, Julian of Norwich, Theresa of Avila, Karl Barth, Rosemary Radford Reuther, or Martin Luther King, Jr.
But every Christian ought to be able to clearly explain his or her own reasons for being a Christian. Some Christians believe that faith is a personal matter that should be kept to oneself. It is true that we shouldn’t be boisterous or obnoxious in sharing our faith, but we should always be prepared to give an answer, gently and respectfully, when asked about our belief, our lifestyle, or our Christian perspective.
You and I can witness our hope without becoming theological scholars. In preparation we can pray, read the Bible, and review God’s promises every day. We can make praising Christ our daily practice. A focus on his power and glory will fortify us. We are to be ourselves in our witnessing, not imitating anyone else. Find the clues in your life that help explain God’s Good News to others. Plumbers can talk about God’s love like running water. Doctors can portray God’s love as a healing force. Respond with care. Leave melting stony hearts to God. Always listen to your audience. Where are their heads and hearts? What burdens them? Listen long and hard. Frame your witness in the words and at the level your audience will understand. If we aren’t questioned about our faith, is our faith showing? Or have we so buried it in the surrounding culture that there is no apparent difference between the way of the world and the way of Christ.
When Jesus said that he came not to bring peace but to bring a sword, what he was saying was that he was presenting an alternative vision of what life was to be about. He asserted that the kingdom of God – the realm of God’s rule – has come near. It is breaking into the world through the presence and ministry of Christ who was the Word become flesh and blood. Jesus wasn’t a specter of some other reality. He wasn’t an alien. He was one of us in the fullest and most complete sense. But he was counter-cultural because he didn’t blend in. He presented a living vision of what God was intending humanity to be.
Many of his parables express the tension of the now and the not yet. The world lives for the moment and doesn’t think ahead, so some of the wedding attendants run out of oil. The world thinks only the strong should survive, so a father welcomes a lost son while the unimaginative, unresourceful stay-at-home son can’t make head nor tail of it all. A one percenter dines sumptuously, ignores one of the 99% at his gate and learns too late what he and those of his family should have known all along, but didn’t pay attention to.
Christ has called us to join him in living the tension between what is now and what is not yet. That is our hope, our knowledge that God is in charge, even when that leadership is hard to see. Our hope is like what Paul stated to the Romans, that absolutely nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God. That means that the love of God will prevail. That is our hope, however skewed life may be. Our calling is to live towards that reality, to embody the Christ-life which is where everything is ultimately headed according to God’s plan.
Together, you and I – we the church – are to be a preview of the age to come, the age of God’s ultimate glory. Our lives are to be prophetic, that is they are to provide an alternative imagination for the world. Things don’t have to be the way they are. God’s way will upset, unravel, disturb, reinvent life. Our hope, the hope which we present the world, the hope which we are to offer explanation for when asked, is that we are privileged to be part of God’s ongoing redemption of creation.
Peter finishes this section of his reflection and encouragement by reminding his readers that we have been enlisted in this God-work through our baptisms. We have been rescued through the water. Baptism saves us now – not because it removes dirt from our bodies but because it is the mark of a good conscience toward God. It is our celebration of the salvation which Christ’s resurrection has made possible. So every time we pour the water into the font we remind ourselves that God in Christ has claimed us for kingdom work which always grates on a world bent on its own ways.
And every time we gather around this table to break bread and share the cup we the Spirit inspires us with the power of Christ who offered his own body and blood for each and every one of us. Our hope is very real, very personal, very true. Speak that hope with every breath you take, every activity you do, every hand you touch, every wrong you right. God’s hope in you will change the world.
Thanks be to God.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Sunday, May 18, 2014
A Spiritual Temple
A Spiritual Temple
1 Peter 2:2-10; Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 31; John 14:1-14
Do you ever look at decorating magazines like Better Homes and Gardens, House and Garden, or House Beautiful? It is always delightful to see the different colors and kinds of furniture that are used as well as the creative use of space. When you look at those picture spreads do you notice anything? There is never any clutter. There are very few knickknacks. The counters are nearly bare. There is always a lot a open space. You can walk through the rooms and not trip over any thing.
I always wonder who lives in places like that. Does anything ever happen in those homes? They don’t look lived in. They look like museums. “Don’t touch anything, don’t do anything.” I don’t know about you, but I could never live in a place that like. If I did, I would have to have someone following me around picking up things and putting them in their hidden storage places. You hardly ever see a wastebasket. Who of us doesn’t make trash?
Those of you who know me well, know that I am not a neat freak. If there is a flat surface, there is going to be something on it. When the building team was working on this building I dreamed of having a two-room office suite: one room for public use and a private room to live in. Well, that didn’t happen. My piles, my clutter overflow. And I have to work hard to keep it from spreading elsewhere. Anyone can look at my office and wonder if anything happens there. Most of the time I know where I have put things. But if I do too many archaeological digs in the piles, things will get really messed up and I lose track of things. Then I have to start on the bottoms of piles and sort what needs to be thrown out and what needs to be kept.
As messy as I am, I am better off than a hoarder. Have you seen that show on television? People actually have to do interventions to rescue these people from their addictive behavior of keeping everything. These are people whose homes can’t be walked through except at the danger of having piles of things fall on you. A person can be just about certain that nothing can happen in that kind of setting, except for an avalanche..
We build our lives in a variety of ways, including what we keep and what we throw away. Not just physically but also intellectually and spiritually. Here’s an exercise to try some time. If you were a house, what kind would you be? A colonial, a ranch, a split-level, a bungalow, a Cape Cod, a southern plantation, or something out of Frank Lloyd Wright, just to name a few styles.
Some of our lives are like those showplace homes, with nothing out of place and every thing in its place. Does anything really happen in those lives? Other lives are full and modestly cluttered. Some are artsy-crafty, others very refined. Some lives are folksy or homey, and others prim and proper. Some of our lives are so full that they spill over wherever we are, and some of our lives are very Spartan and austere. Some of us rush out and get the latest gadgets. Others of us keep the old ones, repairing them as needed until they can no longer be repaired. It is a cultural divide with each of those folks thinking the other is foolish and ridiculous. People have always been that way.
We build our spiritual lives in much the same way we build our physical lives. They are bare or cluttered, simple or complex, austere or overflowing. However they are built, they have to have a firm foundation. That foundation is Jesus Christ, the way, the truth, and the life.
If you have been downtown recently, you will have noticed that the mechanical shovel has been cleaning up the remains of what used to be the Emmitt House. There was basement under some of the building into which the debris fell as the building burned and later was demolished. The contractor has been busy removing all the soft debris – mostly wood from the cavities. Yesterday I noticed that the space had been filled in with the brick debris and dirt and tamped down by a sheep foot roller to compact the soil in order to provide a solid basis on which to put a new foundation and slab. This is necessary for any potential building that might be put on the space. The ability to support a structure must be uniform throughout. Remember Jesus’s parable of the buildings erected on sand and on rock?
We tend to think in terms of a very personal relationship with Jesus. Much of Jesus’ ministry was one on one: the woman with the ongoing hemorrhage, the invalid at the pool, the military officer who asked Jesus to just say the healing word, the woman at the well, the spiritually poor rich man, to name just a few. Jesus sent out followers in pairs to announce the coming of the good news. He dined with self-proclaimed saints and excluded sinners. He comforted a dying sinner on the cross next to his own. Jesus’ life and ministry directly effected many people beyond the twelve whom he called to travel with him. One by one and two by two Jesus built a kingdom community. The personal relationship is foundational to the spiritual temple which is to be the church.
As Peter matured in his understanding of Christ, particularly through Jesus’ resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit, he came to see that the realm of God’s rule was something more than the individual relationship that any one believer has with Jesus. Each believer, unique as each one is, becomes a living stone in the spiritual temple called the church. Peter chooses to use an architectural image, yet he doesn’t talk about building a building. We see that because while he uses the term “spiritual temple,” he counterbalances that with the terms “royal priesthood,” “chosen race,” “holy nation,” “a people.” “You have become this people so that you may speak of the wonderful acts of the one called you out of darkness into his amazing light.”
What Peter is saying to us, is that there is no “I” in church. Church is about being the people of God speaking God’s wonderful acts in Jesus Christ. That you which Peter talks about is not a singular you. It is the plural which is best spoken in the southern dialect, “y’all.” It is we together who make up the church.
Paul catches the same thought when he uses the image of the body of Christ. Not everyone is an ear or a mouth or a foot or hand. We are all cells in the body of Christ. All our cells have the same DNA, but the genes in the DNA call each cell to do special work so that some are hair, some are blood, some are skin, some are muscle, some are bone, etc. We share the same DNA, that saving grace of Christ. The Holy Spirit applies that DNA to us so that we are called to do different things as part of the body of Christ.
If we go back to the architectural image, as the living temple, some of us are load bearing beams, some are windows, some are wiring, some are drywall, etc. To continue with images related to building, a structure needs all the internal parts, often unseen, because they work together to hold the structure as one entire whole. Think of the trusses over your heads right now. It is not just a clever design. Each piece carries a portion of the load to the next piece in such a way that the total weight is distributed eventually to the tops of the columns and then to the foundation.
In our lives as part of the spiritual temple called the church, we are called to work together in such a way so that the weight of the work of being faithful is stressed and carried until it reaches Christ who is the foundation, the cornerstone, the key stone. What that means is that we are responsible for each other. Together we are the joists and studs, the beams and the cladding that make up the spiritual temple of the church. If one of us is not properly installed, if one of us is inferior, if one of us is rotting away, eventually the whole structure will suffer. If the one next to us is weak, we are called to strengthen them. If the one next to us is becoming unattached, we are called to help refasten them. We are responsible to see that each one of us the best living stone, board, nail, sheet rock possible so that together we may fully be God’s people in and for the world.
We are a spiritual temple. And every one of us is absolutely essential. None of us can be done without. “Once you hadn’t received mercy, but ow you have received mercy.”
Thanks be to God.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
1 Peter 2:2-10; Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 31; John 14:1-14
Do you ever look at decorating magazines like Better Homes and Gardens, House and Garden, or House Beautiful? It is always delightful to see the different colors and kinds of furniture that are used as well as the creative use of space. When you look at those picture spreads do you notice anything? There is never any clutter. There are very few knickknacks. The counters are nearly bare. There is always a lot a open space. You can walk through the rooms and not trip over any thing.
I always wonder who lives in places like that. Does anything ever happen in those homes? They don’t look lived in. They look like museums. “Don’t touch anything, don’t do anything.” I don’t know about you, but I could never live in a place that like. If I did, I would have to have someone following me around picking up things and putting them in their hidden storage places. You hardly ever see a wastebasket. Who of us doesn’t make trash?
Those of you who know me well, know that I am not a neat freak. If there is a flat surface, there is going to be something on it. When the building team was working on this building I dreamed of having a two-room office suite: one room for public use and a private room to live in. Well, that didn’t happen. My piles, my clutter overflow. And I have to work hard to keep it from spreading elsewhere. Anyone can look at my office and wonder if anything happens there. Most of the time I know where I have put things. But if I do too many archaeological digs in the piles, things will get really messed up and I lose track of things. Then I have to start on the bottoms of piles and sort what needs to be thrown out and what needs to be kept.
As messy as I am, I am better off than a hoarder. Have you seen that show on television? People actually have to do interventions to rescue these people from their addictive behavior of keeping everything. These are people whose homes can’t be walked through except at the danger of having piles of things fall on you. A person can be just about certain that nothing can happen in that kind of setting, except for an avalanche..
We build our lives in a variety of ways, including what we keep and what we throw away. Not just physically but also intellectually and spiritually. Here’s an exercise to try some time. If you were a house, what kind would you be? A colonial, a ranch, a split-level, a bungalow, a Cape Cod, a southern plantation, or something out of Frank Lloyd Wright, just to name a few styles.
Some of our lives are like those showplace homes, with nothing out of place and every thing in its place. Does anything really happen in those lives? Other lives are full and modestly cluttered. Some are artsy-crafty, others very refined. Some lives are folksy or homey, and others prim and proper. Some of our lives are so full that they spill over wherever we are, and some of our lives are very Spartan and austere. Some of us rush out and get the latest gadgets. Others of us keep the old ones, repairing them as needed until they can no longer be repaired. It is a cultural divide with each of those folks thinking the other is foolish and ridiculous. People have always been that way.
We build our spiritual lives in much the same way we build our physical lives. They are bare or cluttered, simple or complex, austere or overflowing. However they are built, they have to have a firm foundation. That foundation is Jesus Christ, the way, the truth, and the life.
If you have been downtown recently, you will have noticed that the mechanical shovel has been cleaning up the remains of what used to be the Emmitt House. There was basement under some of the building into which the debris fell as the building burned and later was demolished. The contractor has been busy removing all the soft debris – mostly wood from the cavities. Yesterday I noticed that the space had been filled in with the brick debris and dirt and tamped down by a sheep foot roller to compact the soil in order to provide a solid basis on which to put a new foundation and slab. This is necessary for any potential building that might be put on the space. The ability to support a structure must be uniform throughout. Remember Jesus’s parable of the buildings erected on sand and on rock?
We tend to think in terms of a very personal relationship with Jesus. Much of Jesus’ ministry was one on one: the woman with the ongoing hemorrhage, the invalid at the pool, the military officer who asked Jesus to just say the healing word, the woman at the well, the spiritually poor rich man, to name just a few. Jesus sent out followers in pairs to announce the coming of the good news. He dined with self-proclaimed saints and excluded sinners. He comforted a dying sinner on the cross next to his own. Jesus’ life and ministry directly effected many people beyond the twelve whom he called to travel with him. One by one and two by two Jesus built a kingdom community. The personal relationship is foundational to the spiritual temple which is to be the church.
As Peter matured in his understanding of Christ, particularly through Jesus’ resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit, he came to see that the realm of God’s rule was something more than the individual relationship that any one believer has with Jesus. Each believer, unique as each one is, becomes a living stone in the spiritual temple called the church. Peter chooses to use an architectural image, yet he doesn’t talk about building a building. We see that because while he uses the term “spiritual temple,” he counterbalances that with the terms “royal priesthood,” “chosen race,” “holy nation,” “a people.” “You have become this people so that you may speak of the wonderful acts of the one called you out of darkness into his amazing light.”
What Peter is saying to us, is that there is no “I” in church. Church is about being the people of God speaking God’s wonderful acts in Jesus Christ. That you which Peter talks about is not a singular you. It is the plural which is best spoken in the southern dialect, “y’all.” It is we together who make up the church.
Paul catches the same thought when he uses the image of the body of Christ. Not everyone is an ear or a mouth or a foot or hand. We are all cells in the body of Christ. All our cells have the same DNA, but the genes in the DNA call each cell to do special work so that some are hair, some are blood, some are skin, some are muscle, some are bone, etc. We share the same DNA, that saving grace of Christ. The Holy Spirit applies that DNA to us so that we are called to do different things as part of the body of Christ.
If we go back to the architectural image, as the living temple, some of us are load bearing beams, some are windows, some are wiring, some are drywall, etc. To continue with images related to building, a structure needs all the internal parts, often unseen, because they work together to hold the structure as one entire whole. Think of the trusses over your heads right now. It is not just a clever design. Each piece carries a portion of the load to the next piece in such a way that the total weight is distributed eventually to the tops of the columns and then to the foundation.
In our lives as part of the spiritual temple called the church, we are called to work together in such a way so that the weight of the work of being faithful is stressed and carried until it reaches Christ who is the foundation, the cornerstone, the key stone. What that means is that we are responsible for each other. Together we are the joists and studs, the beams and the cladding that make up the spiritual temple of the church. If one of us is not properly installed, if one of us is inferior, if one of us is rotting away, eventually the whole structure will suffer. If the one next to us is weak, we are called to strengthen them. If the one next to us is becoming unattached, we are called to help refasten them. We are responsible to see that each one of us the best living stone, board, nail, sheet rock possible so that together we may fully be God’s people in and for the world.
We are a spiritual temple. And every one of us is absolutely essential. None of us can be done without. “Once you hadn’t received mercy, but ow you have received mercy.”
Thanks be to God.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Is Jesus a Stranger?
Is Jesus a Stranger?
John 10:1-10; Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2:19-25
This is “Good Shepherd” Sunday. Each year on the 4th Sunday of Easter, we celebrate Christ as the Good Shepherd. The gospel reading for each of the three years comes from John 10. The other readings coordinate with it and always include Psalm 23, which we will use for our “Sending Out to Witness” at the close of worship.
The shepherd image for Jesus is one of the best loved images for Jesus. It has been the subject of church art glass, frescoes, sculpture, paintings, iconography, and with Psalm 23, church music.
The shepherd image has two sides. Everyone in Jesus’ time knew something about sheep, shepherds, and shepherding, but what that they knew was not always good or appreciated. Shepherds weren’t on people’s lists of BFFs (best Facebook friends). Shepherds were a necessary appendage to society. A ready supply of sheep were needed for religious sacrifices and for festival food. A lot of cloth came from wool. Shepherds were tolerated. Like wet sheep, they were filthy, stinky, matted, weather-worn.
Yet the divine sense of humor kept using the shepherd image. Shepherds got “This just in from Bethlehem” angel-sung bulletin when Jesus was born. The feast-giving householder who got a mess of last minute excuses and “no-shows” sent the houseman out to find people to fill the empty seats. Combing of the back alleys and by-ways probably resulted in soiled shepherds sitting at supper. Jesus was linked with David whose early career training was as a shepherd. The prophets of the exilic times likened the nation’s leaders to shepherds. The references weren’t complimentary.
So for Jesus to take up the shepherd imagery for himself was another parry in the escalating theological feud with the institutional religious leaders, especially the Pharisees.
Jesus’ discourse about shepherding God’s people comes immediately on the end of the story of the man whom Jesus healed of his life-long blindness. The Pharisees protest, “Surely we aren’t blind, are we?” Jesus responds, “If you were blind, you wouldn’t have any sin, but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains”(John 9:41). From there Jesus goes into getting into the sheep pen. Is this the seam of two conversations skillfully put together? Or is this all one piece of theological cloth? Either way, the implication is that the religious leaders are poor shepherds who can’t guard the sheep properly or that they are thieves and outlaws raiding the dignity and sanctity of God’s people.
I regret to say that sheep have earned their bad rap for being sheep. They have their own form of “Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.” They are early addicts of the “if it feels good, let’s do it” philosophy. It doesn’t take much to distract a sheep. Sheep are not physically swift, so they are easy prey.
So who is a thief and outlaw? Jesus often speaks on multiple levels. He may be thinking of a sheep rustler. He may also be thinking of disruptive, sneaky people within the community. If we take the imagery as parable, these are people who have entered the flock—but not through the proper entrance—not through Jesus, who is later pictured as the gate. Judas Iscariot, who was one of the “insiders” – the Twelve – will be called a “thief” in a couple of chapters. Paul advised the Ephesian elders:
The phrase may also refer to people who “pretend” to be part of the flock, but who haven’t entered through the proper “door.” You may remember that in the 1990s federal agents in Arizona and New Mexico “joined” churches and Bible study groups which were supporting sanctuary for Central American refugees. Did John’s church face a similar problem? Were anti-Christian people sneaking into Christian communities? Christianity was an illegal religion in the Roman Empire. Christians were considered “atheists” because they didn’t worship the Roman gods.
Every congregation has had members who join because of the social status it gives them or because of family pressure. Church sociologist Bill Easum thinks that church membership should bring with it obligations rather than privileges. The example he used was parochial schools. Why do churches give members a discount? Why don’t they charge them more, so that children who are unchurched and poor might be able to attend for free or at a reduced rate? (1)
Who are the “thieves and bandits” who sneak into the flock today? If we listen to them, is Jesus a stranger?
Jesus uses a second image in these ten verses. He has been talking about himself as the shepherd or the gatekeeper. Now he shifts to the image of “gate.” Who are thieves and bandits who came before Jesus? Surely they aren’t all the people who came before him. That would include John the Baptist, the prophets, Moses, and Abraham—people who were servants of God and who pointed to Jesus.
The Greek word we translate as “before” doesn’t have to mean “precede.” It can also mean “in front of.” With that sense it could refer to those who opposed Jesus to his face. The thieves and bandits could be contemporaries with Jesus. They are the ones who refuse to come to Jesus so they can have life (John 5:40). They are the ones who are blind to see where Jesus has come from (John 9:29, 41). By refusing to see Jesus as the revelation from God, they are trying to enter the sheepfold by some other means.
These thieves and bandits are contemporaries of Jesus because he tells us, “The sheep didn’t listen to them.” If “sheep” refers to the believers in Christ, they would have had to “not listen to” the thieves and bandits during the ministry of Jesus. The people they did not listen to were those who denied Jesus as the revelation of God. The “sheep” believed that he was. They entered the sheepfold through Jesus. The promise was given to them: They will be saved. They will come in. They will go out. They will find pasture.
When does this happen? Is it our heavenly existence or is it part of our living the abundant life now? Whenever it happens, Jesus is both the way in and the way out. Finding pasture in Psalm 23 happens after going out. Could this imply that coming in and being huddled together in church is not finding pasture? There is safety in coming into the sheepfold, yet we are also promised safety in our going out. Even though the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, Jesus promises to keep us safe.
In the Greek grammar, the thieves and outlaws will keep on coming in the present tense. Jesus has come once for all time. His abundant life is Spirit driven in us forever. Yet the thieves and outlaws of the world are constantly trying to break in and steal it away. Is Jesus a stranger to us when we fail to listen to him and are conned by religious sounding bafflegab that pilfers his precious gift of grace from us?
Pastor Rich Mayfield thinks that “Jesus was a teller of stories rather than an issuer of edicts. Jesus invited us to use our imagination as we ventured forth on our spiritual journey”(2) He makes a contrast between the factual accuracy of fundamentalism and “hyperbole of the heart,” which he finds in scriptures. An example:
Is Jesus a stranger? Or are you hearing his word?
(1) Cited by Brian Stoffregen, Gospel Notes for Next Week, “John 10:1-10,” Wed, Apr 30, 2014 at 11:30 AM.
(2) Ibid.
(3) Ibid.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
John 10:1-10; Acts 2:42-47; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2:19-25
This is “Good Shepherd” Sunday. Each year on the 4th Sunday of Easter, we celebrate Christ as the Good Shepherd. The gospel reading for each of the three years comes from John 10. The other readings coordinate with it and always include Psalm 23, which we will use for our “Sending Out to Witness” at the close of worship.
The shepherd image for Jesus is one of the best loved images for Jesus. It has been the subject of church art glass, frescoes, sculpture, paintings, iconography, and with Psalm 23, church music.
The shepherd image has two sides. Everyone in Jesus’ time knew something about sheep, shepherds, and shepherding, but what that they knew was not always good or appreciated. Shepherds weren’t on people’s lists of BFFs (best Facebook friends). Shepherds were a necessary appendage to society. A ready supply of sheep were needed for religious sacrifices and for festival food. A lot of cloth came from wool. Shepherds were tolerated. Like wet sheep, they were filthy, stinky, matted, weather-worn.
Yet the divine sense of humor kept using the shepherd image. Shepherds got “This just in from Bethlehem” angel-sung bulletin when Jesus was born. The feast-giving householder who got a mess of last minute excuses and “no-shows” sent the houseman out to find people to fill the empty seats. Combing of the back alleys and by-ways probably resulted in soiled shepherds sitting at supper. Jesus was linked with David whose early career training was as a shepherd. The prophets of the exilic times likened the nation’s leaders to shepherds. The references weren’t complimentary.
So for Jesus to take up the shepherd imagery for himself was another parry in the escalating theological feud with the institutional religious leaders, especially the Pharisees.
Jesus’ discourse about shepherding God’s people comes immediately on the end of the story of the man whom Jesus healed of his life-long blindness. The Pharisees protest, “Surely we aren’t blind, are we?” Jesus responds, “If you were blind, you wouldn’t have any sin, but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains”(John 9:41). From there Jesus goes into getting into the sheep pen. Is this the seam of two conversations skillfully put together? Or is this all one piece of theological cloth? Either way, the implication is that the religious leaders are poor shepherds who can’t guard the sheep properly or that they are thieves and outlaws raiding the dignity and sanctity of God’s people.
I regret to say that sheep have earned their bad rap for being sheep. They have their own form of “Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.” They are early addicts of the “if it feels good, let’s do it” philosophy. It doesn’t take much to distract a sheep. Sheep are not physically swift, so they are easy prey.
So who is a thief and outlaw? Jesus often speaks on multiple levels. He may be thinking of a sheep rustler. He may also be thinking of disruptive, sneaky people within the community. If we take the imagery as parable, these are people who have entered the flock—but not through the proper entrance—not through Jesus, who is later pictured as the gate. Judas Iscariot, who was one of the “insiders” – the Twelve – will be called a “thief” in a couple of chapters. Paul advised the Ephesian elders:
“Watch yourselves and the whole flock, in which the Holy Spirit has placed you as supervisors, to shepherd God’s church, which he obtained with the death of his own Son. I know that, after my departure, savage wolves will come in among you and won't spare the flock” (In Acts 20:28-29).In a general sense the phrase “thief and outlaw’ may refer to any deceptive leader or people—people with hidden agendas. Sometimes church leaders, ruling elders as well as teaching elders, may not always be up-front, open and transparent about their plans or problems. They may be more concerned for themselves than for the group. Thieves and bandits are people who take for themselves without much thought about what others are losing.
The phrase may also refer to people who “pretend” to be part of the flock, but who haven’t entered through the proper “door.” You may remember that in the 1990s federal agents in Arizona and New Mexico “joined” churches and Bible study groups which were supporting sanctuary for Central American refugees. Did John’s church face a similar problem? Were anti-Christian people sneaking into Christian communities? Christianity was an illegal religion in the Roman Empire. Christians were considered “atheists” because they didn’t worship the Roman gods.
Every congregation has had members who join because of the social status it gives them or because of family pressure. Church sociologist Bill Easum thinks that church membership should bring with it obligations rather than privileges. The example he used was parochial schools. Why do churches give members a discount? Why don’t they charge them more, so that children who are unchurched and poor might be able to attend for free or at a reduced rate? (1)
Who are the “thieves and bandits” who sneak into the flock today? If we listen to them, is Jesus a stranger?
Jesus uses a second image in these ten verses. He has been talking about himself as the shepherd or the gatekeeper. Now he shifts to the image of “gate.” Who are thieves and bandits who came before Jesus? Surely they aren’t all the people who came before him. That would include John the Baptist, the prophets, Moses, and Abraham—people who were servants of God and who pointed to Jesus.
The Greek word we translate as “before” doesn’t have to mean “precede.” It can also mean “in front of.” With that sense it could refer to those who opposed Jesus to his face. The thieves and bandits could be contemporaries with Jesus. They are the ones who refuse to come to Jesus so they can have life (John 5:40). They are the ones who are blind to see where Jesus has come from (John 9:29, 41). By refusing to see Jesus as the revelation from God, they are trying to enter the sheepfold by some other means.
These thieves and bandits are contemporaries of Jesus because he tells us, “The sheep didn’t listen to them.” If “sheep” refers to the believers in Christ, they would have had to “not listen to” the thieves and bandits during the ministry of Jesus. The people they did not listen to were those who denied Jesus as the revelation of God. The “sheep” believed that he was. They entered the sheepfold through Jesus. The promise was given to them: They will be saved. They will come in. They will go out. They will find pasture.
When does this happen? Is it our heavenly existence or is it part of our living the abundant life now? Whenever it happens, Jesus is both the way in and the way out. Finding pasture in Psalm 23 happens after going out. Could this imply that coming in and being huddled together in church is not finding pasture? There is safety in coming into the sheepfold, yet we are also promised safety in our going out. Even though the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, Jesus promises to keep us safe.
In the Greek grammar, the thieves and outlaws will keep on coming in the present tense. Jesus has come once for all time. His abundant life is Spirit driven in us forever. Yet the thieves and outlaws of the world are constantly trying to break in and steal it away. Is Jesus a stranger to us when we fail to listen to him and are conned by religious sounding bafflegab that pilfers his precious gift of grace from us?
Pastor Rich Mayfield thinks that “Jesus was a teller of stories rather than an issuer of edicts. Jesus invited us to use our imagination as we ventured forth on our spiritual journey”(2) He makes a contrast between the factual accuracy of fundamentalism and “hyperbole of the heart,” which he finds in scriptures. An example:
“A husband looks deeply into the big blue eyes of his wife of many years. He sees the accumulating wrinkles, the sprinkling of gray, the passage of time. And yet still he boldly and truthfully proclaims, ‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world.’ It is the truth. Now, it may not be factually verifiable. She might not actually win the Miss America contest that year. But there is no question in his mind that what he is saying is the truth. What he is doing is offering up a ‘hyperbole of the heart.’ He is sharing what really matters to him. He is confessing his love.”(3)A hyperbole is a figure a speech. It is an exaggeration, but even more so, it is something that is not meant to be taken literally. That is true of our text. Jesus is not a literal shepherd. In today’s world hi might have used the image of a webmaster or an activities director. We are not literal sheep. He isn’t talking about literal thieves and bandits. At the same time, Jesus is speaking the truth. His truth is so big that it can only be communicated figuratively. Some who hear it will be captured by and share in the truth of the figurative speech. Others who hear it will be lost—blind and deaf to his truths.
Is Jesus a stranger? Or are you hearing his word?
(1) Cited by Brian Stoffregen, Gospel Notes for Next Week, “John 10:1-10,” Wed, Apr 30, 2014 at 11:30 AM.
(2) Ibid.
(3) Ibid.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Burning Hearts or Burned Out?
Burning Hearts or Burned Out?
Luke 24:13-35; Acts 2:14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:17-23
Saddleback Church in California is famous for its hospitality; the church welcomes strangers as guests instead of as visitors. “The term ‘visitor’ implies that they’re not here to stay,” writes pastor Rick Warren in his book The Purpose-Driven Church. “The term ‘guest’ implies that this is someone for whom you do everything you can to make them feel comfortable.” For a guest, we do everything. For a visitor, not so much.
Saddleback staffer Erik Rees leads a “guest services team” that’s in charge of first impressions — they’re determined to be good hosts to the strangers who come to them. Traffic attendants are trained to welcome people and point them toward the worship venues, greeters are positioned along walkways to welcome people and answer questions, and ushers are in place in the worship venues so they can respond to people and seat them. The goal is that each guest will receive at least three greetings before sitting down in worship.
These first impressions are critical. Warren believes that guests “are deciding whether or not to come back long before the pastor speaks.”(1)
“Hospitality.” Those of you who were here in the fall of 2001, might remember that the word “hospitality” was used frequently. That was the first key word about our new building. It was what people first sensed from the facility itself. And it was what people needed to sense from those of us who were already here.
As Warren says, we will do anything necessary to make a guest comfortable and at home. Visitors, on the other hand, are often little more than tourists. No slight is intended. And we mean to treat visitors as hospitably as guests. But we know, and you know, that your family members visiting from out of town are happy to join you in worship, but they are here just a few days and will return to their own locations and schedules. Guests may stay around.
The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews admonished his readers, “Don’t neglect to open up your homes to guests, because by doing this some have been hosts to angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2 ceb). That would certainly describe the situation with the two travelers on the road to Emmaus that first evening of Easter. Jesus plays multiple roles. He is the unrecognized stranger. He becomes the welcomed guest. And then, offered the honor of starting the meal, he becomes the host, at which point he was recognized. That’s when everything changed.
You will remember that the two people walking to Emmaus placed great hope in the Nazarene whom the religious leaders had handed over to be sentenced to death. And they didn’t know what to make of the story the women told about Jesus being alive or the report that friends had brought that the tomb was empty.
Like the tomb, their lives were now empty. Their hopes, once lifted very high, had been smashed with the hammer blows nailing Jesus to the cross. There was nothing more to do than go and reclaim some pieces of their former lives, endure the ‘I told you so’ taunts of their family and neighbors. Some were headed back to fishing boats, to a tax office, to missed appointments, to abandoned families, and to mercifully deadening routines. That will teach us to dream, they thought to themselves.
The question which had not yet occurred to them is this: For all we have been through, how are we different and what does that mean for the future? It was too early for that. They were spent physically, emotionally, spiritually, and probably financially as well. They were in a stupor when the stranger traveling at a reasonable gait made to pass them, but noticing their blank stares, inquired about what they pondering in such a doleful manner.
The two travelers could have told the stranger to mind his own business. Grief and confusion often erupt that way. We don’t want to admit that we are flummoxed, so we shut others out. Instead the two invite the stranger into their misery, thinking that he hasn’t a clue to what has been going on. The stranger, it turns out, knows more than they do, at least with respect to the background. “You mean that you didn’t believe all that the prophets said about the Christ – Messiah – anointed one – having to suffer before entering glory.”
Because the two were hospitable to the stranger, they got a step-by-step Bible study about Jesus. Today we would have to buy those lessons on compact discs to play through the car audio system on long trips. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the speed of the walkers didn’t pick up a bit as the salvation story was unfolded for them. Anyway, soon the two were at their destination.
They insisted that the stranger stop for a meal with them before continuing. As good hosts they offered the food to the guest first. And as was surely the custom, the guest took the loaf of bread and prayed the grace, “Blessed be the Lord our God who gives grain for bread.” Then he broke it. At that point, the stranger-become-guest became host because the two immediately knew who it was who had traveled with them, illumined their faith, and gave himself for them.
“Weren’t our hearts on fire when he spoke to us along the road and when he explained the scriptures for us?”
For Cleopas and friend, everything had changed. Just as the risen Christ was no longer in the tomb but abroad in the world, so Christ was no longer confined in the tomb of their despair and disappointment. He was abroad in their lives. He disappeared from their sight when he took, blessed, and broke the bread. He had taken up residence in their hearts. His absence is now explained by his presence in them.
Every teacher has had students about whom he or she have wished that they had a USB port that the teacher could plug into and download the information into the student’s brain. In a sense, that is what Jesus did with Cleopas and friend. He gave them a concise history of God’s activity that led up to Christ’s incarnation into the world, his ministry with the world, his crucifixion by the world, and his resurrection for the world.
If you attend a Good Friday worship here, you always get a list of readings for what is called the Great Vigil of Easter. The readings begin with creation. The next ones are Noah’s deliverance by the ark from the flood, Isaac’s near sacrifice and the substitutionary ram, and Israel’s deliverance from Egypt at the Red Sea. Moving on to the prophets, Isaiah offers words of salvation for all, Proverbs personifies wisdom, and Ezekiel promises a new heart, a new spirit, and indeed new life to the valley of dry bones, Zephaniah closes out with the promise that God’s people will be gathered. It is after those nine readings that the liturgy shifts to a gospel announcement of Christ’s resurrection. Every Holy Saturday we have the opportunity relive God’s plan of salvation for humanity and experience it fulfilled in the resurrection of Christ. That salvation story is what Jesus recounted to the Emmaus walkers. And it burned within them until the fuse was ignited with Jesus’ self-disclosure through breaking the bread.
We have been through the events of holy week and Easter morning. Are our hearts burning within us like Cleopas and friend, or did we miss ignition and our hearts, our faith have, gone cold, burned out?
God’s love for us through creation, promise, fulfillment, ministry, crucifixion and resurrection is an unquenchable fire burning within us if properly fanned into flame through the working of the Holy Spirit. Does Easter only visit us and pass on it’s way until another year passes? Or is Easter a guest that we have welcomed, invited in, hosted, and become changed by?
(1) Warren, Rick. The Purpose-Driven Church: Growth without Compromising Your Message & Mission. (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1995), 257, 260-61.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
Luke 24:13-35; Acts 2:14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:17-23
Saddleback Church in California is famous for its hospitality; the church welcomes strangers as guests instead of as visitors. “The term ‘visitor’ implies that they’re not here to stay,” writes pastor Rick Warren in his book The Purpose-Driven Church. “The term ‘guest’ implies that this is someone for whom you do everything you can to make them feel comfortable.” For a guest, we do everything. For a visitor, not so much.
Saddleback staffer Erik Rees leads a “guest services team” that’s in charge of first impressions — they’re determined to be good hosts to the strangers who come to them. Traffic attendants are trained to welcome people and point them toward the worship venues, greeters are positioned along walkways to welcome people and answer questions, and ushers are in place in the worship venues so they can respond to people and seat them. The goal is that each guest will receive at least three greetings before sitting down in worship.
These first impressions are critical. Warren believes that guests “are deciding whether or not to come back long before the pastor speaks.”(1)
“Hospitality.” Those of you who were here in the fall of 2001, might remember that the word “hospitality” was used frequently. That was the first key word about our new building. It was what people first sensed from the facility itself. And it was what people needed to sense from those of us who were already here.
As Warren says, we will do anything necessary to make a guest comfortable and at home. Visitors, on the other hand, are often little more than tourists. No slight is intended. And we mean to treat visitors as hospitably as guests. But we know, and you know, that your family members visiting from out of town are happy to join you in worship, but they are here just a few days and will return to their own locations and schedules. Guests may stay around.
The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews admonished his readers, “Don’t neglect to open up your homes to guests, because by doing this some have been hosts to angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2 ceb). That would certainly describe the situation with the two travelers on the road to Emmaus that first evening of Easter. Jesus plays multiple roles. He is the unrecognized stranger. He becomes the welcomed guest. And then, offered the honor of starting the meal, he becomes the host, at which point he was recognized. That’s when everything changed.
You will remember that the two people walking to Emmaus placed great hope in the Nazarene whom the religious leaders had handed over to be sentenced to death. And they didn’t know what to make of the story the women told about Jesus being alive or the report that friends had brought that the tomb was empty.
Like the tomb, their lives were now empty. Their hopes, once lifted very high, had been smashed with the hammer blows nailing Jesus to the cross. There was nothing more to do than go and reclaim some pieces of their former lives, endure the ‘I told you so’ taunts of their family and neighbors. Some were headed back to fishing boats, to a tax office, to missed appointments, to abandoned families, and to mercifully deadening routines. That will teach us to dream, they thought to themselves.
The question which had not yet occurred to them is this: For all we have been through, how are we different and what does that mean for the future? It was too early for that. They were spent physically, emotionally, spiritually, and probably financially as well. They were in a stupor when the stranger traveling at a reasonable gait made to pass them, but noticing their blank stares, inquired about what they pondering in such a doleful manner.
The two travelers could have told the stranger to mind his own business. Grief and confusion often erupt that way. We don’t want to admit that we are flummoxed, so we shut others out. Instead the two invite the stranger into their misery, thinking that he hasn’t a clue to what has been going on. The stranger, it turns out, knows more than they do, at least with respect to the background. “You mean that you didn’t believe all that the prophets said about the Christ – Messiah – anointed one – having to suffer before entering glory.”
Because the two were hospitable to the stranger, they got a step-by-step Bible study about Jesus. Today we would have to buy those lessons on compact discs to play through the car audio system on long trips. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the speed of the walkers didn’t pick up a bit as the salvation story was unfolded for them. Anyway, soon the two were at their destination.
They insisted that the stranger stop for a meal with them before continuing. As good hosts they offered the food to the guest first. And as was surely the custom, the guest took the loaf of bread and prayed the grace, “Blessed be the Lord our God who gives grain for bread.” Then he broke it. At that point, the stranger-become-guest became host because the two immediately knew who it was who had traveled with them, illumined their faith, and gave himself for them.
“Weren’t our hearts on fire when he spoke to us along the road and when he explained the scriptures for us?”
For Cleopas and friend, everything had changed. Just as the risen Christ was no longer in the tomb but abroad in the world, so Christ was no longer confined in the tomb of their despair and disappointment. He was abroad in their lives. He disappeared from their sight when he took, blessed, and broke the bread. He had taken up residence in their hearts. His absence is now explained by his presence in them.
Every teacher has had students about whom he or she have wished that they had a USB port that the teacher could plug into and download the information into the student’s brain. In a sense, that is what Jesus did with Cleopas and friend. He gave them a concise history of God’s activity that led up to Christ’s incarnation into the world, his ministry with the world, his crucifixion by the world, and his resurrection for the world.
If you attend a Good Friday worship here, you always get a list of readings for what is called the Great Vigil of Easter. The readings begin with creation. The next ones are Noah’s deliverance by the ark from the flood, Isaac’s near sacrifice and the substitutionary ram, and Israel’s deliverance from Egypt at the Red Sea. Moving on to the prophets, Isaiah offers words of salvation for all, Proverbs personifies wisdom, and Ezekiel promises a new heart, a new spirit, and indeed new life to the valley of dry bones, Zephaniah closes out with the promise that God’s people will be gathered. It is after those nine readings that the liturgy shifts to a gospel announcement of Christ’s resurrection. Every Holy Saturday we have the opportunity relive God’s plan of salvation for humanity and experience it fulfilled in the resurrection of Christ. That salvation story is what Jesus recounted to the Emmaus walkers. And it burned within them until the fuse was ignited with Jesus’ self-disclosure through breaking the bread.
We have been through the events of holy week and Easter morning. Are our hearts burning within us like Cleopas and friend, or did we miss ignition and our hearts, our faith have, gone cold, burned out?
God’s love for us through creation, promise, fulfillment, ministry, crucifixion and resurrection is an unquenchable fire burning within us if properly fanned into flame through the working of the Holy Spirit. Does Easter only visit us and pass on it’s way until another year passes? Or is Easter a guest that we have welcomed, invited in, hosted, and become changed by?
(1) Warren, Rick. The Purpose-Driven Church: Growth without Compromising Your Message & Mission. (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1995), 257, 260-61.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com
Copyright 2014 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
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