For the Glory of God

Luke 23:33-43; Jeremiah 23:1-6; Colossians 1:11-20


One of the great mysteries of Jesus’ crucifixion is his forgiveness of his accusers and those who carried out the death sentence. “Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they're doing.” The soldiers were following orders. Pilate was trying to keep the crowd under control. Herod was happy to pass Jesus back to Pilate and keep his puppet kingship in tact. The religious leadership were afraid of what could happen to their persons, their positions, their country, their faith if Jesus were to live. They believed they were acting for the glory of God and did what had to be done.

The onlookers goaded Jesus to anger. He responded with forgiveness. The authorities mocked him as the “King of the Jews.” Jesus showed that he was the king of all people. Jesus was taunted to save himself. He saved the criminal who hung next to him. Jesus turned evil into good. He lived as the Christ of God for the true glory of God.

Last year, Islamic State terrorists in Libya executed 21 Coptic Christians on a beach and videoed it for the world to see. Coptic Christians are the largest Christian community in the Middle East and one of the oldest in the world. They trace their church back to Saint Mark, who introduced Christianity in Alexandria, Egypt, a few years after Christ’s death and resurrection.

These Coptic Christians were taken hostage and executed because of their faith in Jesus Christ. The ISIS video of the killings was entitled, “A Message Signed with Blood to the Nations of the Cross” It was a message to Christians around the world.

Like the people involved in Jesus’ crucifixion, the ISIS soldiers did not know what they were doing. Instead of weakening the Christian faith, they strengthened it.

The 21 murdered men were construction tradesmen. All were Egyptians except for one. He appeared to have been a young African man, perhaps from Chad or Ghana.

Greek Orthodox bishop Demetrios of Mokissos reported that the executioners demanded that each hostage identify his religion. Under threat of death, they could have denied that they were Christians. But instead, each of the Egyptian Copts declared their trust in Jesus. Maintaining their faith in the face of evil, each man was beheaded.

Bishop Demetrios described this crime as “a grotesque example of the violence which Christians face daily in Libya, Iraq, Syria and anywhere ISIS prosecutes its murderous campaign against anyone it deems an infidel.” But as horrible as these executions were, the story has an unexpected and inspirational ending.

The African worker who was with the Egyptians was not a Christian when he was captured. But when the ISIS terrorists challenged him to declare his faith, he replied: “Their God is my God.”(1)

What a statement! “Their God is my God.”

After hearing those words, the terrorists killed him. But in that moment, the young man became a Christian and Jesus said to him, as he said to the man on the next cross, “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise.”

Bishop Demetrios concluded, “The ISIS murderers seek to demoralize Christians with acts like the slaughter on a Libyan beach. Instead they stir our wonder at the courage and devotion inspired by God's love.”

“Their God is my God.”

Are we living our Christian faith in such a way that people look at us and say, “Their God is my God”?

I came of age in the midst of the Vietnam War. At the time I was in the early stages of discovering faith. I believed in God and had join the church when I was 12. When I went to college I had embarked on a spiritual journey to discover what I actually meant when I said that. Freshman year I needed to choose between ROTC and Physical Education for a required course. I chose ROTC. Among the things we learned in that course was how to strip, clean, and reassemble an M1 rifle. That was neat from a mechanical standpoint. The PE or ROTC requirement was dropped for my sophomore year, but I signed up for ROTC as an elective because the book work was going to be military history. When I found out that the practical work was going to be learning to shoot the M1, I dropped ROTC.

As the Vietnam War continued and upheavals happened on many campuses – not mine, thankfully – I fantasized going to the chapel on Sunday morning and finding it barricaded with armed troops. The gnawing question – imaginary and improbable as it was – was what would I do? Would I just turn away or would I attempt to cross the armed line and enter the chapel for worship?

When the draft lottery was instituted I dreaded getting a low number and then having to decide to enlist, wait for the draft notice, refuse to go and go to jail, or try to become a conscientious objector. Had I gotten a low lottery number, would I have denied Jesus and meekly submitted to those who did not know what they were doing? Or would I have stood firm with a few others and said, “My God is their God”? My birth date drew an exceedingly safe number, so that question was never answered.

On this Reign of Christ Sunday the world is confronted by a king who dies on a cross. Jesus doesn’t save himself, he saves others. Rather than crying out in anger, he forgives the people who kill him. Then and now, Jesus brings good out of evil.

Even if Christ is hanging on a cross, he is the people’s king, to be seen by everyone. The criminal next to Jesus did this when he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The young African man on the Libyan beach did this when he pointed to the Coptic Christians and said, “Their God is my God.”

Both the criminal and the young African man saw Christ as king. They grasped his power and trusted him to save them. In the face of death, they put their complete faith in a crucified Lord.

In telling my story earlier, it was not my intention to imply that my faith crisis was on the same level as that of the African man. But you and I know that we have faith crises. We face small spiritual deaths or triumphs frequently. Time and again we are left with the question: Are we living our Christian faith in such a way that people will look to us and say, “Their God is my God”?

The challenge for us is to speak in ways that reveal authentic faith and act in ways that show real courage and devotion. Only when people are inspired by what Christians say and do will they be willing to accept Christ as their king. Would we support and embrace a neighbor whom everyone else shuns because they aren’t “one of us,” physically, mentally, racially, academically, or some other difference? Or would we quietly acquiesce to the majority? Would we speak out to decry a majority held, obviously false, slanderous slur? Or we hold our tongue and keep our faith to ourselves? Whose God is our God?

Mzee Abdu of Kyambogo, Uganda, avoided Christians in his rural village. He and his wife were practicing Muslims and steered clear of the local church. But with a meager income, Abdu and his wife struggled to take care of their grandchildren. They sometimes went without meals, and they couldn’t fix their leaky grass-thatched roof hut.

The church noticed Abdu’s family and stopped in to offer them support. Abdu’s reservations toward Christians soon began to melt away. “This is a very special day to me,” he said. “It has been long since anyone has come to our home.”

After the visit, the pastor and other church leaders discussed how they could use resources in their community to help Abdu's family. They rallied the community to construct a new semi-permanent house with an sheet metal roof to keep the family warm and dry during the rainy season. Meanwhile, they helped Abdu’s grandchildren with scholarships to attend the church’s school.

During a follow-up visit, Mzee Abdu and his wife asked if Pastor Patrick could lead them to receiving Christ as their personal Savior. “We want to accept your God. He has loved us so much! Our lives have totally changed since the day you came here. We had lost hope.”(2)

Rodger Nishioka is a Christian educator, former seminary professor, and now Director of Adult Educational Ministries at the Village Presbyterian Church outside Kansas City, Kansas. He is convinced that actions speak louder than words, and that Christian service provides new ways of knowing Jesus today. “Words are lovely,” he says, “but in the 21st century, when we have rhetoric everywhere, maybe people are paying attention to how you and I live, to what we do. Come on, church," he concludes, “maybe in the 21st century, folks are looking for believers who act for the glory of God.”(3)

People are looking for believers like the Coptic Christians on the Libyan beach and like the men and women of the Ugandan church. People who act not for themselves, but for the glory of God. Not for themselves, but for Jesus.

All of us are challenged to take actions that will cause people to look at us and say, “Their God is my God.” May we act with strength and integrity of when we are challenged, because the challenge is for Christ the king and for the glory of God.


(1) Demetrios of Mokissos. "ISIS is guilty of anti-Christian genocide." The Wall Street Journal, February 12, 2016, wsj.com.
(2) Adapted from “Actions speak louder than words: Hope in Uganda,” Bright Hope, May 24, 2016, www.brighthope.org.
(3) Nishioka, Rodger. "New ways of knowing." Westminster Presbyterian Church, Greenville, South Carolina, March 18, 2015, www.plus.google.com.

Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2016 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.