This Faith Is Ours--Final

Our Savior: Isaiah 25: 6-9; Mark 16: 1-8

            The other morning, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. New and brighter lights had just been installed, and I could see myself far more clearly in the mirror than I ever wanted to. I began to take stock. I’m getting a lot of gray hair. Whether you can see it or not, my barber gently said it’s time to make a decision whether to let it go or start blending the color. So, trust me, it’s there. I looked at the dark circles under my eyes. I looked at the few little skin tags on my neck and my one crooked tooth. And now I have these little spots, little places on my face that eventually will have to be removed. I stood there, looking at myself in the brightly lit mirror and thought, “Wow, Will, it’s getting bad.” 

            I think we all do the same thing, whether we want to admit it or not. We look over our lives and think, “When did I start needing a nap every day?” We wonder where those wrinkles came from. We can remember when going to the doctor was once or twice a year instead of once or twice a week. A teacher friend of mine wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when a student turned in a paper that began, “In the late 1900s…” She quickly realized they meant the 1990s. There are all these things in our lives that make us feel…shall we say…old and decrepit? Maybe we could even say depressing?

            All too often we focus ourselves squarely and only on the mess. We complain about being too overweight, too old, too unattractive, too boring, too mentally fractured, and in so many ways too broken. Human nature tends towards this focus on the negative, and we are no exception—I have listened to you, oh yes, I have heard you talk quite frequently about the negative things of life and all the ways we’re getting old. The disciples were no exception, either, when it came to negativity. Jesus was dead, crucified, wickedness had won. Their leader, their hope, their Rabbi was dead and buried with a giant stone blocking all access. They were afraid. They were broken and messy. Humankind very often finds itself living in the broken and messy. 

            But into all of that, a miracle occurred—a resurrection—and the Savior lives. The angel said to the women in the Gospel, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead!” And into that place of life and resurrection, we find ourselves. We may see the decrepit, feel the slowness of death creeping in, but just as the Holy One was resurrected, we too shall be saved. Together, we wrote short explanations of what “saved” means to us. Some of you wrote a sentence or two. Some of you sent me several paragraphs, and at least one sent me chapter and volume in a three-ring binder which I am continuing to read. 

            One of you talked about being saved as a process, one where we draw closer to God each day until we see our God face to face. There were other things said and written: being saved eases the sting of grief, being saved speaks life into the place where death and Hell once reigned for us, being saved is more than just words—it means truly walking in this new life with God, being saved means finding a home with Jesus where you are saved, loved, and welcomed just as you are, being saved means living for Jesus instead of under the burdens of others, being saved means a relationship, hope, eternal life, living in the shadow of the cross but seeing the glory waiting on the other side. 

            All of these speak to Jesus’s ability to speak hope and wholeness, sweetly and softly, into those places where we are messy, broken, or feel a little more decayed than usual. Isaiah speaks also to this idea of restoration, saying, “Then he will remove the cloud of gloom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth. He will swallow up death forever!” And then we get this powerful statement of trust and commitment: “In that day the people will proclaim, ‘This is our God! We trusted in him, and he saved us! Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings!” 

            There is good foundation throughout the scripture to believe in this level of hope and restoration…of this saving. II Corinthians 4:16 reminds us, “Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.” I used to chalk that up to some theological talk by Paul that seems rather comforting at funerals, but these days those words speak a bit more to the soul. We look in the mirror and see what’s wrong—whether it’s the bumps on your face, the gray in your hair, for me personally at one time the Crisco needed to grease me up and squeeze my pants on and buttoned, or all the life drama we face. But in our individual spirits, we can feel God speaking, renewing, giving us strength, teaching us. It’s that feeling of one’s soul being renewed and strengthened despite the growing level of decrepit on and about us. 

            It brings us to a place of peace in our lives. As one of you wrote, saved means “to gaze out my window to see the beauty God has created. To close my eyes and feel it too. To have the freedom of knowing no matter what comes, I am being held tenderly in Jesus’s loving arms.” We see messiness and brokenness; Jesus sees the one he loves and died for. We look on the negative, the faults, the failures; Jesus looks at the holy calling given to you. We look at the difficulties and struggles; Jesus looks at his own resurrection and the promised hope for you and for me. And somehow, some way, out of all that messiness comes this beauty of us that God has created, redeemed, and called his very own. 

            Easter is about the redemption God is giving today and the hope for tomorrow that Jesus’s death and resurrection will bring. Tomorrow morning, we will likely all stand again in front of the mirror…on a Monday no less. Each blemish, each problem, each age spot, lump, bump, and wrinkle will start to weigh on our mind. Each broken place in our lives, each mess we’ve made, and each problem we are sorting through will also come to mind (though usually that’s at night when you’re trying to sleep). And I hope in that moment, as those thoughts invade, that you will remember the words of that song we heard minutes ago: “Something beautiful, something good, all my confusion he understood. All I had to offer him was brokenness and strife, but he made something beautiful of my life.” So after we say the benediction, go home and look in the mirror, and see the one whom God loves, whom God redeemed, and whom God has given hope because our Savior lives.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/264779475306888

This Faith Is Ours--Part 6

Our Cornerstone: Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-22; Mark 11: 1-11

            In construction and building terms, a cornerstone is the first and primary block of the foundation set in the ground which determines the positioning of all the other stones and indeed the structure itself. For us, as Christians, Jesus is that cornerstone on which our faith is built, our lives are patterned, and our understanding comes from. This Palm Sunday we continue our series, This Faith Is Ours, by looking at Jesus as the cornerstone of our faith. But in doing that we are going to look at the triumphal entry in a new and different way, and how this can change our views on the ways in which we follow Jesus. 

            In our Gospel lesson for today we Jesus in his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. This is the prelude to all that would happen in the crucifixion and resurrection. This is where the stage was set for the plot to kill him to build momentum. Here we see Jesus borrow a young donkey and use it to ride through the Golden Gate (or Eastern Gate) into the city of Jerusalem. He rode in to praise and triumph through the outlying cities of Bethany and Bethphage, a few miles outside of Jerusalem.              

            Typically, we have talked about the triumphal entry as part of a foreshadowing of Jesus’s return in glory—once he rode to Jerusalem humbly on a donkey, but then will be coming King of Glory. However, a deeper look at this scripture and the setting shows a deeply rebellious political message directly at Rome and the religious leaders of Jesus’s day. Here’s a little backstory. Every year, the Roman governor of Judea would ride up into the city to be present at Passover. During Passover, the population of Jerusalem would swell from 50,000 to over 200,000 with Jewish pilgrims from all over coming to the city. 

            New Testament scholars give a strong description of all the pomp and pageantry as the Roman governor paraded in all his glory through the streets of Jerusalem to remind them that Rome was in charge lest anyone dare try to start a rebellion fueled by the religious fervor of Passover. Rome was all-powerful to them, the oppressor, and Caesar was declared to be a deity in and of himself. Rome, through a powerful parade, made sure that no local yokels in the outer regions of the empire would challenge this claim to power. 

            Thus, you see, Jesus, as a poor son of a carpenter with a ragtag following, was the furthest thing from a powerful emperor you could get. Just imagine how shocking it was to see this teacher on a dumpy little donkey parading into town on a carpet of palm branches and tunics. Make no mistake about it, Jesus triumphal entry was no parade—it was a rebellious protest against the oppression of Rome, and it shocked the people, firing up their rebellious nature. It was a mockery of the Roman parade likely happening close to the same time. 

            Jesus, once rejected as wrong and unconventional, became the cornerstone for those who were suffering and oppressed under Rome and the religious authorities who found Rome’s power all too convenient for preserving their own power. Perhaps this is what caused most of the trouble? The people saw Jesus’s defiant act against Rome and against the Pharisees with all their oppression. They expected this Son of David, who was the true and legitimate heir to the throne, to return and lead Israel to its historic glory. Jesus now stood in a fighting position of open rebellion—the cornerstone—ready to build his kingdom brick by brick. 

            But that didn’t happen. Instead of a powerful king, they found a humble teacher and a loving savior. The people wanted a political solution of power and might, but Jesus offered a pathway of grace, redemption, and humility. The people loved the protest, but they weren’t very fond of the truth of Jesus’s kingdom. Jesus didn’t come to establish a kingdom of this world. We are told to be in the world but not of the world, as God’s kingdom is here in the world (in us) but still not a kingdom of this world. Jesus came to flip tables, to protest Rome in the streets of Jerusalem, and to call the Pharisees a brood of vipers. He laid the cornerstone of the kingdom of God, but the rest of the building proved to be much harder for people.  

            Even as they thought Jesus was ready to fight, he proclaimed instead that we should be peacemakers. He proclaimed that we should love our neighbors. He proclaimed that we should turn the other cheek when it comes to a fight with our enemies. Those things are all well and good, yet the people were ready for a fight first, then all that other stuff Jesus said later. But Jesus had a different kind of kingdom in mind—a kingdom that is still hard for us today.

            Jesus shared what he had with all, and in fact, the first church in Acts 2 sold all its possessions and cared for everyone equally from rich to poor. Jesus healed on the Sabbath, interacted with people considered unclean, stood up for the prostitute and the tax collector (and in turn offered them redemption). He proclaimed we should treat the least of these with same dignity as the best of all. Paul extends these teachings to say, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus,” in Galatians 3:28. Even more difficult, when Peter drew his sword to start the fight and defend Jesus at the scene of Jesus’s betrayal, Jesus replied, “Put away your sword…those who use the sword will die by the sword.” (Matt. 26:52, NIV). Jesus’s teachings were difficult. Imagine if Jesus stood in the pulpits of America today in the wake of our killing and violence and said, “Get rid of your gun, for all who use the gun will die by the gun.” Or if Jesus preached publicly against Roman oppression and the rights of the minority people of Judea to vote and speak their mind? The Jesus they wanted in Jerusalem was not the Jesus they got. 

            The same is true today: laying the cornerstone of belief in Christ is easy, building the rest of the house can be very difficult work. Showing up to the exciting protest on Palm Sunday is easy, embracing what Jesus taught was much harder. For us, believing in Jesus as the Savior of all is easy, but actually following him gets really difficult. And yet Jesus is still the cornerstone on which we build. Jesus knew that the people around Jerusalem would shout hosannah one week. He also knew that just a short time later they would say, “This isn’t what we signed up for. Kill him.” But still Jesus rode on in majesty as a sacrifice, as an example, as the cornerstone of our faith and hope. 

            Jesus rode to Jerusalem on a donkey in humble protest of the evils of Rome and the Pharisees in the temple. But then he taught the people about this kingdom, God’s kingdom, where love transforms, where souls are saved, where war and violence are over, and where enemies find ways to turn the other cheek and love one another. In our day and time, which is just as faulty as Ancient Rome, we must commit not just to believing in Jesus but to following him as well. So set your faith firmly in the Cornerstone, the Rock of Ages, who has the power transform all that is bad into grace, then. like Jesus, ride on ride on in majesty for in following him, we will never lose our way. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/500740597969577             

This Faith Is Ours--Part 5

Our Comfort: Jeremiah 31: 31-34; Hebrews 5: 5-10

A few years ago, I visited an elderly friend whose adult child had just died. As I was sitting in her living room, she posed an emotionally charged question: “Why did both of my children die before me, and here I am as a 90-year-old woman, left to suffer. Why?” There are few times in my life given my legal training and my pastoral training that I have had no answer to give. This was one of the worst. For agonizing minutes, I sat in silence. There was nothing I could say, and nothing that came to mind. I could only quietly offer, “I don’t know.” 

A few days later I was able to collect my thoughts and write a short letter in response. What I told her was this: I don’t know why you have to suffer and endure the death of both of your children. It is cruel, unfathomable, and shakes a person’s faith to the core. But what I know is this. God, too, had to watch his only son suffer and die. Though God knew Jesus would rise from the dead, be perfectly made whole, and returned to heaven, none of that softened the heart-wrenching misery of watching his son die on the cross. Though there may never be an understanding in this life of the suffering you are going through, you do not go through it alone. Our God will be with you to comfort you.

Friends, as we travel through this Lenten series on This Faith Is Ours, we look today at one of the tougher aspects of faith: knowing our God in the role of comforter. One of the very basic principles we start out with is the idea that God is not all that far away from us. Unlike the days of the Old Testament, we don’t have to approach God through a ritual sacrifice or a high priest. Jeremiah talks about a new promise God makes: “But this…new covenant I will make with the people of Israel. I will put my instructions deep within them, and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.” These powerful words echo those of Ruth who promised Naomi that “your God will be my God and your people my people.” That promise was backed by a powerful resolve. 

The power in that promise from God is that we will know God. Now, theologically, we know that this means Christ is with us, and the Holy Spirit dwells with us to be this presence of God, “Immanuel, God with us.” As opposed to a god who is far off, unknown, and unreachable, God is known and with us—always. Christ loves us, suffered for us, and has left the power of the Spirit with us in his stead. There is something inherently comforting about this basic theology which tells us how God knows us, and how we can know and approach God in times of need. 

But in Hebrews 5 we see another aspect of Jesus which truly makes Jesus real and human for us. Beginning around verse 7, “When Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death. And God heard his prayers because of his deep reverence for God.” Now verse 8 reminds us that Jesus still had to suffer, but there’s a very powerful word in that verse—God heard his son’s prayer and pleas.

Now at this point, you may ask what, exactly, is the point of all this? Jesus prayed in earnest to God in his time of crushing pain and need. God heard Jesus. And yet, Jesus still suffers. What changed? What was the point if Jesus still suffered? The answer is found, not in blanket deliverance, but in the comfort, the resolve, and the strength God gave Jesus. When Jesus finishes his prayers in the garden on that dark night, he goes with the guards on the path that would ultimately lead to the cross with resolve, in strength, unflinching, and undeterred from his horrific task. Jesus didn’t find deliverance from his situation in his prayers, but instead, he found God’s deliverance from the dread through God’s strength and God’s comfort to continue forward in power, in strength, and without ever looking back on his final journey to the cross.

We need to find this comfort and resolve from God in our lives, lest we become overwhelmed by the darkness we see in this world. Jesus was killed by the warped and twisted beliefs of the Pharisees and religious leaders conspiring with the state to have Jesus executed. There are times and days where it seems like little has improved with regard to the depth of grief and sorrow we live with and the twistedness that allows people to see human life as so easily destroyed. This has been yet another week of collective grief. 

A gunman shot and killed several people in Atlanta, primarily in the Asian community. He’s charged with 8 counts of murder. There is debate whether it’s his due to his addictions, a hate crime, or something in between, or all of the above. Whatever hatred existed in his heart for others, we still are left to collectively grieve for the lives lost and for this continuing struggle to understand why people care so little about the lives of others. Their families grieve, their communities grieve, we all find sorrow in the fact that over and over we deal with pain and death or skirt by the valley of the shadow of death. 

This, I think shows the symptom of our closeness to grief. One of my good friends is Asian-American, and he often goes to dinner at a ramen noodle restaurant in that area of Atlanta after work. When I heard the bare minimum of a killing spree targeting Asians in Atlanta, I spent the next few minutes with a sick feeling knotted in my stomach until I had texted and knew he was okay. But we all live in this anxious place. Much like we read about the valley of the shadow of death in Psalm 23, we also live in the shadow of grief and sorrow. 

How do I know this? Here’s an example. Let’s say your loved one is coming to visit, and they are running 15-20 minutes late. Do you first think, “Eh, it’s traffic,” or do you begin to get that same knot or sick feeling in your stomach? Usually, we begin to check our phone, worry, call them, and as the minutes go on, we fly all the way off the handle and assume they’re dead in a car accident or some other horrible thing. That, my friends, is living in grief and sorrow’s shadow, where in every situation, we expect the worst tragedy to occur. 

            When that shadow appears, we must, then, face grief and sorrow head-on knowing that God will abide with us. Francis Henry Lyte wrote the hymn, “Abide With Me” just a few weeks before his death. He knew the end was near as tuberculosis was overtaking his strength. The hymn is subtle, quiet, but packed with this strong resolve we see in Christ himself. Lyte writes, “I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight and tears no bitterness. Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph, still, if Thou abide with me.” So always remember in every struggle, grief, and sorrow you go through, God is there grieving with you, holding you steady in the pain, and offering a presence to comfort; “In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.” 

Worship Plan: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/863970570841156

This Faith Is Ours--Part 4

Our Hope—Numbers 21: 4-9; John 3: 14-21

            John Newton was a man who was well-acquainted with both wretchedness and grace. Now, some of you may be asking, “Who exactly is John Newton?” You would probably know him best as the man who wrote “Amazing Grace,” the very popular hymn. His life saw a vast change from the depths of wickedness and personal suffering to the power of grace to transform and fill the soul with Christ’s love. Truly, his faith in God was the hope that kept him going, and which led him to truly proclaim Christ. So, this morning, in our Lenten series This Faith is Ours, let us look carefully on these words “for God so loved the world” and at the power of God to move us from understanding wretchedness to understanding the hope found in God’s grace.

            Newton had a promising life. As a young man he sailed with his father, who was a shipmaster, and set out on his own after his father retired. Newton, at age nineteen, however, was forced into service by the Royal Navy. He struggled there and ended up being flogged in front of the whole ship for trying to desert his post. He contemplated suicide, murdering the captain, and all manner of evil actions in a sort-of breakdown from the anguish of being punished. 

            He eventually recovered and found wealth and prominence aboard a slave trade ship. He spent years working as a slave trader making money from dehumanization, torture, and murder of Africans brought to America to be enslaved. His work was cruel, filled with causing wretchedness to others, and robbing these people of their hope in life. For those who found themselves on Newton’s ship, their only hope was to die, for their freedom and humanity were stolen from them. 

            But Newton soon learned what this suffering was like. The shipmates hated him and left him in the West Africa where he himself was sold off in slavery, mistreated and abused. Even after his rescue and subsequent conversion to Christianity, he continued to invest in the slave trade unwilling to give up his lucrative old life. This changed when he truly found God’s grace and gave up all the wealth of the world in order to preach the Good News of a Gospel that sets people free. By the 1780s he was a priest, and a fierce advocate for the abolition of slavery. 

            Newton was a man who understood wretchedness and grace, abandonment and hope. And Newton could truly tell us, in sermon and hymn, the power of these words for today, “For this is how God loved the world: [God] gave his one and only son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” I know everyone can quote this verse if you’ve been in church for even two seconds, but look more at the next verses—“God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world” but to save it. And verse 18, “There is no judgment against anyone who believes in him.” 

            Too often we live without hope, under judgment ourselves, or in judgment of others. But God has called us to be a people of grace, of hope, and of love. Writer Anne Lamott says, “Grace meets us exactly where we are. And it doesn’t leave us where it found us.” You see, grace teaches us to have hope, and to make hope in an often-dreary world. John Newton worked in his later years as a force for hope and grace, working to atone for the evil he caused as a slave trader for Britain. Grace found him on the turbulent seas in the 1740s when he was caught in a storm and called out to God, but God’s grace pushed and prodded at him until he gave up the wealthy life baptized in wretchedness, for a life of grace baptized in Christ’s love and redemption. It was there he found his own hope and made hope for others. 

            So, exactly how did he create hope? Was it in his preaching, his hymns, his teaching? No, it was in his work outside the church. Newton worked with members of Parliament in Britain to abolish slavery and lived just long enough to see the act passed in 1807, nine months before his death. It was not enough to write about the evils he saw. It was not enough to preach and teach, or sing hymns advocating against the evil of the world. Newton put his faith into action. His work speaks to verse 21, “But those who do what is right come to the light so others can that they are doing what God wants.” God called Newton to come out of his darkness and into the light, but also, God called Newton to live and work in the light creating hope for others whose hopes Newton had long stolen in his work. 

            Theologian James Denney once asked a friend what happened at Calvary. The friend said in essence, if my child went dreadfully wrong, I would never give that child up. But my heart would still break. At Calvary, we see God’s broken heart for us, and the true cost of love. And in seeing that broken heart, we long to be different. Friends, God cannot and will not let us go no matter what level of wretchedness we find in our lives. And in that knowledge that God will never let us go, we find our hope forged in love, refined by mercy and grace. 

            Like Newton, though we are called to make hope. Slavery is not some issue of the past. There is a modern-day slave trade. Young women and men are subjected to sexual assault and forced into prostitution. There is a new task force in law enforcement to combat labor and work slavery and trafficking (a still-thriving illegal trade) in this state. There are people who live without hope, without a voice, and subject to the cruelty of another, just as Newton lived in this world of the wickedness of business as usual for so long. Poverty is still a problem in our world, and in our own country. Children still go hungry, right here in Macon, and evil is borne out of the misery of poverty and desperation. 

            But there is hope to fight against the wretchedness we see or sometimes don’t want to see. As we collect food, as we provide care and nurture to others, as we shine the light of Christ’s grace on this evil, we fight for hope. We, and Christ’s followers, fight for Christ’s grace in this world. Every day we see and hear horrible things that could depress even the strongest person. But we are reminded of our call to be creators of hope, to tell everyone that there is love and grace found in the God who never, ever leaves us. 

            John Newton’s hymn, “Amazing Grace,” talks about navigating the dangers, toils, and snares. It talks about the grace that relieves fears and doubts. It even talks about the hope of grace leading us home, and how grace saves from wretchedness, a place Newton knew so well. But there’s a lesser-known verse which speaks to hope. “The Lord has promised good to me, [God’s] word my hope secures.” As God’s grace takes us from where we are and changes us into Christ’s followers, may we work each and every day to bring hope into this world—the same hope that we have found in God’s amazing grace. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/3738897542883952

This Faith Is Ours--Part 3

Our Passion: Psalm 19: 7-14; John 2: 13-22

            The disciples remembered, “Passion for God’s house will consume me.” Years ago, a church I was a member of had a renovation decision to make (not this church). An interior designer and long-time member had seen what the committee had come up with. Perturbed by their trendy choices, and likely miffed that she wasn’t included in the committee, she set about organizing her own committee and coming up with a second proposal. Foolishly, the board decided to let the congregation vote between the proposals. 

            The debate in the congregational meeting raged for two hours: taupe or gray, pattern or solid curtains in the baptistry, cool gray or heather gray paint, oak or the other oak on the hardwood floor. The votes for proposal one or proposal two were counted to loud cheers and boos placed in two piles, right on Christ’s communion table, right on top of the leftover communion they had forgotten to put away in their haste to fight with one another over paint and fabric. I imagine this was not the zeal or passion that Jesus particularly wanted to consume his followers. Today, in our series, This Faith Is Ours, we look at our passion for God’s holy congregation, the church. There are two troubles which damage: distraction and disharmony, and one remedy: discipleship. 

            When Jesus enters the Temple for Passover in our Gospel lesson, he encounters a strong distraction from worship. The Temple courtyard had been covered by people selling birds, cattle, and sheep for sacrifices. There were also money changers, who for a fee, would give you the right currency to give into the Temple dues and coffers. The people were no longer coming to the Father’s house for worship. Instead, they were coming to run by the first century Walmart in the yard and handle the formalities before getting back to what was really important in their lives. They were distracted both by the sideshow in the yard and by all the other things of life to truly have passion for the temple and their worship. 

            We cannot become distracted by the idols of life from our worship to and service for God. Too many of our churches have become as overwhelmed by politics and control as our whole lives have been in the past few years. The church is the place we come to find our common mission, to rekindle our zeal or passion for God’s work, and to refocus on the Savior who loves and redeems us. Instead of coming with a heart to critique, come with a heart to be immersed in God’s presence. When you approach worship with “I want, I wish, I prefer…” you come already filled with distractions. How can God’s Spirit and Word enter into that muck and transform your life to live stronger and better each day for God, through the power of Christ? 

            But there was another issue lurking around the Temple that day. As Jesus attempted to rekindle the passion of the worshippers, the Temple leaders sought to create disharmony in Christ’s work. I Corinthians 14:33 reminds us, “For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints.” I can guarantee you that where there is chaos, strife, and disharmony, God has been shut out, for our God is not a God of chaos. We see too many examples of this. Disagreements, power struggles, and internal discord will likely rip our churches apart faster than any outside, secular plot ever will. A friend of mine once sat through a church meeting where over and over people said, “This is my church! I grew up here! I’ve been here all my life.” At the end of the tumultuous meeting, my friend, the pastor, stood up and said, “This is not your church, nor my church. This is God’s church, and when we come here, we would do well to remember that.” 

            That said, we are not going to agree on everything. You cannot assemble 40-50, or more people and expect total, 100% agreement. Life doesn’t work that way. When such troubles arise, the Psalm has a powerful reminder in verse 14, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Having taken mediation classes and pastored for ten years now, I have found some universal truths. We won’t always agree, and that’s okay. We can sit down and calmly talk through where we don’t agree and how the scripture speaks to it. We may then agree, and that’s good. We may still not agree, and that’s fine too, because even when we don’t agree in one thing, we agree in thousands of others. Furthermore, we agree on the foundation: our faith in Christ as Savior, and our desire to share that love and grace with all. 

            So, what is the cure for all this strife? Discipleship is the answer. Being good disciples means we work in all things and in all ways to be faithful to Christ’s teaching and example. It is faith that saves us, but is discipleship which teaches us how to live as Christians in this world. This starts with understanding the work of Christ. In the Gospel, the disciples are said to have remembered the words and prophecies. Later on, after the resurrection, the disciples remembered what Jesus said and believed both him and the scriptures, according to verse 22. Discipleship requires us to understand what Jesus is saying to us. The Psalm reminds us that “the instructions of the Lord are perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.” 

            But this understanding in the disciples elicited a powerful, Spirit-filled response. We read in Acts 2 that they devoted them to the apostles’ teachings—sharing meals including the Lord’s Supper, performing miracles, meeting together to share everything they had, selling their property to help those in need amongst their fellowship, and worshipping together. They became the church, not the Temple with the money changers, black market, and fake worship and rituals, but the church of God. Discipleship tells us that we become the body of Christ together, from many different places, walks, and ideas, to this place of one in the mission of Christ. 

            Therefore, may we never let distractions and disharmony pull us from the word we have in Christ. May we never find ourselves or our idols in a place and position over the church. May we never be filled with the wrong type of zeal. May we ever be passionate about our work, our mission, and our family of faith together on this road. The church was built on those who shared in the love and grace of Christ, the church grows through those who understand discipleship and our common mission to go into the world, teaching, helping, and proclaiming the Good News of redeeming love. May we find our passion for God’s holy church committing together, ready and willing, Lord, here am I. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/151495870062105

Bonus Video—Hymn Singing: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/445106260135364

This Faith Is Ours-Part 2

Our Cross: Gen. 17: 1-7, 15-16; Mark 8: 31-38

When I was in high school, I made a very terrible decision one that would make my life superbly difficult. I made the choice to take advanced placement calculus, and I regretted it for my entire junior year of high school. You see it was not enough that algebra was difficult, nor was it not enough at geometry was difficult. I had to go all the way and take the high-level math course of calculus. And I learned…math is not what I’m good at.  Sometimes in life we are faced with difficult decisions. The decisions we make sometimes turn out very well for us, and sometimes they don’t. This week, my friends, we look at our second installment of our Lenten series, This Faith Is Ours, with a lesson on choices and our cross. 

In our Gospel lesson today, Jesus attempts to teach the disciples about what is to come. He starts by talking about the work he was to do—death and resurrection, bringing life into a place of death and despair. Peter, however, is confused by all this. Talking about mustard seeds, coins, and lost sheep was one thing. But to predict that he would be killed brutally and suffer, then rise from the dead. Well, it was a lot for Peter…too much. Peter pulled Jesus aside and told him to stop saying this. Just stop, Jesus, we don’t want to hear it. 

I don’t think that went over well with Jesus. His response was “Get away from me, Satan!” He then sets up this choice for the crowd in verse 34: “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.” Just prior to this exclamation, he tells Peter to stop seeing things from a human point of view and see it instead from God’s point of view. There is a choice set up in Jesus’s teaching: will you follow your own way, or will you follow God’s way? The answer should be fairly obvious, but the application, or the living it, may not be very easy. 

As Christians, we should choose God’s way, and in doing so, there are a few things we will have to lose or give up. In order, those things we give up include: our control, our worldly goods, and our pride. Each of these stems from our desire to do things our way, to choose how we want to do things instead of taking up our cross to follow Jesus. All of these things come from our temptations. One of the greatest tricks to pull us away from God is the illusion of self-sufficiency. Friends, apart from God, we can do nothing. If we could fix everything on our own, all would be fixed. The Gospel calls upon us to give up our ways of doing things and to lean on God’s holy will. 

Jesus asks the question, “What do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?” The question Jesus asks draws me back to his time in the wilderness being tempted by Satan. Jesus is taken to a high place and shown all the kingdoms of the world. Satan offers them to Jesus if only Jesus would worship Satan. But the truth is all of this already belonged to Jesus. For him, it wasn’t a tough choice. For us, it’s harder because who doesn’t want it all, or maybe one specific thing that could be tempting as well. 

We also have to give up pride. Pride demands of us more than we can safely give. Choosing your way over God’s way here comes in bits and pieces: today I’ll praise Jesus, but tomorrow I’ll conjure up all the cuss words if someone makes me mad; today at church I’ll be sweet and welcoming, but Monday morning brings back my meanness, bigotry, and gossipy ways; today I come to church, but tomorrow I get to be who and what I want. If Jesus cannot have all of you, what’s the point of giving him any of you? Jesus didn’t go halfway to the cross. He chose the full road to Golgotha and demands that we choose to follow, and to take up our own cross with joy and pride in our hearts. 

So, what, exactly, do we get for taking up our cross and following God? We get both redemption and the cross itself. In talking about redemption for our souls. Jesus says, “If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it.” Understanding this requires understanding another teaching in the Gospel of Matthew—no one can serve two masters. All throughout this teaching, Jesus is trying to say, “Find yourself in me, and not in your own way.” In the cross, we find forgiveness and grace for all those times we chose our own way and had faults and failures. As the hymn says, “for t’was on that old cross, Jesus suffered and died, to pardon and sanctify me.” Life is not about your screw ups, it’s about your moments of forgiveness and grace in Jesus and following God into your new and Christ-centered self—our redemption from us to God through Christ. 

Lastly, we get the cross itself. Now, taking up a cross to carry it may seem like a burden. The cross in Jesus’s day were a brute and ugly thing designed to inflict maximum suffering and torment. We all have the images of Jesus struggling to carry it and collapsing on the way to Golgotha. For us, though, the cross is different. The cross is not a burden; it’s a mark of God’s love and forgiveness. In fact, when you take up the cross, you can lay all the burdens here down. You can be reminded that Jesus says come to him for his yoke is easy, and his burden is light. The burden we have in the cross is this: a mark of forgiveness, a reminder of God’s love, and hope for God’s coming kingdom here on earth filled with peace and justice. As the hymn says, “To the old, rugged cross, I will ever be true; its shame and reproach gladly bear.” Jesus calls us to give up our way and take up his way—the cross. 

When we take pride in the One who loves us, created us, and redeems us, God, too, takes pride in us as children of God. When we rely on ourselves, we will often come up disappointed. In many ways we let ourselves down because we are not perfect. But God is perfect and will always give grace for our imperfections. That’s something to be amazed by and proud of—this idea that God loves you and me enough to cover our worst shortcomings with grace. There’s a point of pride for us that even though we don’t get it right, God’s promises never fail, and God is always there with us. There is a hope, a love, and an excitement in the fact that God has given us a cross, intended to shame and humiliate Christ, but which has become a point of strength and pride to all of Christ’s followers. 

Today, then, and each and every day we have a choice to make. Will we go it on our own, holding back from Christ part of ourselves, or will we take up our cross—the whole cross—and follow him? Down through the ages, that choice has been presented. Abraham had to choose what was familiar and comfortable or follow God to the promised land. God’s way or our way—the choice may be obvious but is likely very tough. There is a bonus incentive in our choice, though. For if we take up the cross and follow Jesus, we can rest assured that one day, we will trade the old cross for a crown. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/168682448395815

This Faith Is Ours Pt. 1

Our Identity: Gen. 9: 8-17; I Peter 3: 18-22

            In Disney’s 1951 Alice in Wonderland, young Alice encounters a caterpillar smoking hookah. Through the puffs of smoke, he asks her a tough question, “Who are you?” Alice is caught off guard. She responds that she doesn’t really know anymore. She’s changed a number of times since this morning—grown, shrunk, encountered wild creatures—and can’t really say with certainty who she is. The nosy caterpillar asks her again with more assertiveness: Who. Are. You? We begin this Lenten journey with a new series—This Faith is Ours—looking at how our faith speaks to us in ways that deepen our spiritual connectedness to God and our call to seek justice in the world. As we begin today by looking at our identity, we need to ask ourselves the same question the caterpillar posed: “Who are you?”

            Identity is defined as what a person is. There are many ways we identify ourselves in terms of work, relationships, hobbies. You may refer to yourself as a musician, or a singer. You may identify yourself as someone’s spouse. You may identify by who your parents are, or where you’re from. Identity is whatever you use to explain to someone who and what you are. One of the classes I took recently in seminary focused on the writings of a Catholic priest named Thomas Merton. In his book New Seeds of Contemplation, Merton writes, “The secret of my identity is hidden in the love and mercy of God.” (35).

            As those who have chosen to follow Jesus and have placed our trust in him, we should say that first and foremost our identity is as a child of God. If you want to unravel the secret of your identity—of who you are—it is found in the love and mercy of God. I have a friend, who is a pastor and was having a rough week. He said, “I’m tired, I’m weary, I have nothing to give this Sunday. I can’t do this anymore!” In a sense, his trials and struggles had caused an identity crisis and had shaken him to the very core of who he was. The answer to that is found in remembering that relationship with God and the reminder that we are children of God first and foremost. 

            We will all experience times in our lives of mini or major identity crises. We will be unable to make music like we once did, unable to do the work we may have loved, not be able to go out and run around in ways we remember. We all live an experience here on earth where we gradually become less and less able than we once were. There is a temptation to see this as depressive and ruinous to our spirits and faith. But I Peter 3 offers a reminder, “Christ suffered for our sins once for all time. He never sinned, but he died for sinners to bring you safely home to God.” Focus in on those words, “to bring you safely home to God.” That struggle, as we pause here and say, “Wow, I think I’m losing it,” gives way to the promise of God that even as you lose it here, you have gained it all in God’s kingdom of hope. 

            Never, ever forget that you are child of God. You are created by the Holy One who loves you. You are redeemed by Christ who came to this earth for you. And you are guarded and led by the Holy Spirit which dwells as God with you. At all times, and in all your comings and goings here on earth, you remain near to the heart of God, loved and protected, redeemed and guided by the Almighty one. 

            There is another quote, however, in Fr. Merton’s book which we need to look at in terms of our scripture. Here is the quote, “Not to accept and love and do God’s will is to refuse the fullness of my existence.” (33). What exactly does this mean? Well, if you remember from your Sunday School Classes, our God is a God of promises. For example: God made a covenant with Abraham to follow God into the promised land, and Abraham would become the father of many nations. God also promised, or covenanted, to send the Messiah to save and redeem the people. 

In our Old Testament today we see God making another covenant. A covenant is a promise or an agreement. As a modern example, if you own a home in new subdivision, you may have homeowner covenants. If you live in an apartment, you have a leasing agreement which are basically covenants. But in the Bible, covenants have a holy aspect because they are promises made with God or through the power of God. In the Disciples of Christ, we have many different people from different places, races and ethnicities, styles of worship, and yes, even political beliefs. But here we covenant with one another in and through God to work together as a church to show and teach God’s love and grace to all and to work in this world to heal, help, and save. 

In Noah’s day, God punished the world for its wrongdoing. The judgment was to be destruction by a flood which covered the earth. And, as the story goes, only 8 people made it on the ark to be saved along with two of every kind of animal. When the flood was over, God gave a rainbow to make a solemn promise, a covenant, that floods would never destroy the whole world again. Fire may still be an option on the table depending on what book of the Bible you may be reading, but God promised floods are a no-go now. 

We can rely on those promises, or covenants, as children of God because our God keeps the promises made to us. Even the old hymn reminds us that we are “standing on the promises of God.” For our part, though, we must seek God’s will and do what God calls us to do. That is where we find the fullness of our existence, the best of life, here on Earth is in knowing we are walking closely and carefully with that same God who is Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. 

            So, we come full circle. I doubt any of us will see a talking, smoking caterpillar philosophically asking us who we are while we are shrunk to 3 inches tall. And, if you do, please head to your doctor immediately. But the question from the movie still remains: who are you? The answer to that question of your identity is that you are a child of God—one whom God leads here on earth and will also lead home to everlasting life. But even as we walk here on earth, we should follow God’s will, listen to that still, small voice speaking to us and guiding us, for the fullness of life here on earth is found in following God with every step we take. 

            How do we find this identity? Charlotte Elliot, the writer of our final hymn asked this same question. She had wandered far away into a lonely, sad, and bitter place. The answer was simpler than she could have ever imagined, “Why, you just come as you are.” You are created by God, redeemed by Christ, and sustained by the Holy Spirit. Perhaps then, our identity is not found in who or what we are, but in the question of whose we are. Never forget whose you are.

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/135230076517491/videos/472537530789634

Christian Leadership in Present Times: Final

Leadership Moves Forward—Gen. 50: 14-24; John 14: 1-6

            As we wrap up our series, Christian Leadership in Present Times, we reflect a little today on what it means to move forward—on why our lives and successes depend on us living into God’s future instead of fading into the struggles of the past. Back home, there is a saying. Now, I cannot find the origin of this, but I know I heard it growing up once or twice, but then, you hear a lot growing up in Appalachia. Here’s the saying, “You’ve got to get on with the gettin’ on.”  Leadership moves forward because, as we learned from Lot’s wife last week, forward is really the only way to go. 

            In our Old Testament today we arrive near the end of Joseph’s life. His father, Jacob, has died, and the fear of the past has fallen heavy on Joseph’s brothers. If you recall the story of Joseph, his brothers plotted to kill him out of anger and jealousy. However, in a last-minute decision, they sold him into slavery instead. Trial and tribulation haunted Joseph as he went from slave, to Potiphar’s honored servant, to prisoner, to the King of Egypt’s most trusted leader. If anyone had a reason to dwell on past wrongs in his life, it was Joseph. 

            His brothers understood this as well. In their minds, Joseph was biding his time until he sought revenge for what they had done to him. What we learn about Joseph, though, is that he was truly a strong leader. He had moved forward, followed the presence of God, and gotten on with the getting on of life. He had truly forgiven his brother’s sin against him and believed they were in a good relationship together. The brothers took every precaution trying to make sure Joseph wouldn’t destroy them. You might even miss it, but they went back to their old, deceitful tricks sending him manipulative messages allegedly from his father in order to manipulate Joseph’s grace towards them. 

            Joseph had moved on and found hope and success. His brothers still lived in the guilt of the past. They could not forgive themselves, and in turn they could not believe in Joseph’s forgiveness either. There are many times Joseph weeps in the Genesis story—for fear, sadness, relief. But here, Joseph weeps in grief for his brothers. They were trapped by the guilt of their past, and it cost them the joy found in Joseph’s forgiveness and the hope found in God’s forgiveness. 

            We all struggle with this idea of “you’ve got to get on with the gettin’ on.” The other day someone sent me a joke that said, “When I was a child, I thought piranhas and quicksand were going to be more of an issue as an adult.”  Laying aside what we see in adventure movies, I would suggest that quicksand is actually a big problem, but not exactly like you think. For many of us, our past is a quicksand of sorts. We become mired and bogged down in guilt, in grief, in hopelessness, in anger at wrongs against us. We get stuck and cannot get on with the gettin’ on. There’s an old quote said in a variety of ways, but my favorite is this, “The past is a nice place to visit, but certainly not a place to stay.” 

            Into this struggle, this figurative quicksand comes Jesus with a rope to pull us out and keep us moving forward. Too often, I think we sit and debate the meaning of today’s scripture in John. Is Jesus the way, a way, the only way, which way, and now the thought’s gone away. Don’t overcomplicate it. When Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” it’s not a theological essay, it’s an invitation to you and me who may be stuck in the quicksand or setting up residence in the past never to move forward. 

            This is what Jesus offers us: a way forward, the truth of God’s grace, and life both here and hereafter. Jesus is there to help you get on with the gettin’ on in life. You may have major points of life that haunt you—failures that you live with, abuse and trauma that lingers, addictions that pull you back down over and over, spiritual abuses by manipulative church leaders, dark secrets and dull aches that seem to arise at the most inconvenient times and when you think everything is okay in life. 

            There’s help—professional, medical, spiritual, and otherwise. If there are deep-rooted issues, don’t go it alone. There is no shame in seeking help. But also remember that every step forward into your future, Jesus walks with you showing the way forward, revealing the truth that God loves you and offers grace without condemnation, and that life here and forever is a gift from God that we should take full advantage of. 

            We cannot stay in the past, whether it’s suffering that won’t let go, nostalgia that lures us back like Lot’s wife to Sodom and Gomorrah, or spinning our wheels here and now. There’s a temptation to believe that things were better in the past, and it’s just more comfortable there. Maybe it is. But that robs us of the future God is calling us to and the present God is gifting us now. Don’t sacrifice where God is leading you—the way, the truth, and the life—for a fond memory in the distance. The future may be hard, but God has called us to move forward, but in that has promised to be with us each mile of the journey. My Nanna sometimes says, “I don’t recognize this world very much anymore.” But even in that tension of so much new and changing, she still sends me Facebook messages from her own Facebook. 

            We have to adapt, move forward, get on with the gettin’ on. Sometimes that looks like forgiveness for wrongs done to us like Joseph. Sometimes that looks like letting go of our own faults and failures and embracing God’s grace like the brothers. Sometimes that looks like growing and adapting to change even when we’re just not sure. In any case, God calls us to move forward and promises to be with us, for great is God’s faithfulness unto us. All throughout the Bible people are on the move—travelling to the promised land, returning to rebuild Jerusalem, following Jesus around Judea, or as Paul taking long missionary trips. God leads each one of us forward with a calling, a hope, and a promise of God’s powerful presence.

            Joseph is the example of one who forgave, who moved on and followed God. In the end, God brought him through full of hope and joy. His brothers, however, could not leave their past behind, and seem to have suffered their entire lives for it. Friends, God forgives, God heals, and God walks with us. Jesus is the way forward, the truth of grace, and the life of hope and promise. As the old hymn says, “Yes, I feel like travelin’ on, oh I feel like travelin’ on. The Lord has been so good to me, yes I feel like travelin’ on.” We walk with God, whose faithfulness unto us is so great, and who gives us strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. So let us get on with the gettin’ on.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/120519616643475

Christian Leadership in Present Times Pt. 6

Leadership Is Investing in Others: Gen. 19: 15-29; John 17: 1-19

            Investing can be a tricky, risky business. Whether it’s retirement funds, playing the stock market, or just trying to spin a buck or two, investing can be a risky and costly adventure for us. As we continue our series Christian Leadership in Present Times, we look at this idea of investing, not in stocks or bonds, but in people and in God’s beloved children around us. We have to ask from the very get-go of this sermon, “Is it worth the risk to invest in other people?” Not to spoil the whole sermon, but the answer is yes. God has invested in us, and so, we are called to invest in others in ways that show grace but also which preserve our safety and boundaries. 

            In the Old Testament for today we read the story of Lot’s escape from Sodom and Gomorrah. Because of Abraham’s prayer, God sent angels to see if the cities were worth saving. The conclusion was that there was not even ten righteous persons within the cities to have them preserved, so the angels prepared Lot and his family to escape the coming doom. Even the escape proved to be difficult. Lot dawdled around taking his sweet time. He complained about going to the mountains till God promised he could go to the village of Zoar. Sadly, though, Lot was not the only difficult one. His wife disobeyed the order to not look back, and as a result, she lost her life turning to a pillar of salt. 

            Let’s focus in on her for a moment. God knew her heart. God knew that her heart was still in Sodom and Gomorrah, and that she couldn’t leave it behind her. It wasn’t necessarily that she disobeyed by looking back. It was that she continued to long for a place that was unrighteous. God knew her heart. Even though she may not have been evil herself, she was still very much charmed by the wickedness of the two cities. Even though God knew her heart, God still offered her the opportunity to find grace and to be saved from the destruction. God knew she would look back, but God still invested the time and energy to give her the opportunity for grace.  

            That’s one of the things I love best about God: grace is present even in our times of brokenness. God is still working and re-working in each of us to invest grace, power, and the Holy Spirit in us to strengthen us, to save us from our own selves. It’s a grace that is present even in the midst of our faults. That’s because God doesn’t say, “You have to be perfect to come.” Instead God says, “Come as you are,” even when that includes all our faults and brokenness. God still invests in us and works through us. 

            We often struggle with that idea of being okay with or investing in people who may be broken or messy. Society has a long history of shortcomings in this area. In part of my legal work, I get to help people with disabilities, and studies show that people with disabilities are victimized by assault, robbery, or sex crimes at a rate of double or triple the non-disabled population. But sometimes it’s not just a physical or intellectual disability that makes all of society nervous. 

            Some may struggle from a mental health condition or a mental illness. Some may have a physical shortcoming. Some may have past prejudices or beliefs to work out. Some may still wrestle day in and day out with good, old-fashioned sin. We tend to look at the worst as individuals and society, and we can quickly and easily point out that something is wrong. 

            That, however, is not how God sees people. God doesn’t see the worst in us—the messiness, the worry, the struggle, the feelings we push down and hide away for fear that they will make us appear to be the messy ones. In every person who stands in need of grace, God invests everything available—redemption, resurrection, hope eternal, and a holy, unfailing love. We need to look no further than the cross to see that God invested everything, absolutely everything for us to have that kind of relationship with God which loves us beyond the brokenness. God sees not the mess within, but the opportunity for God’s kingdom to grow within us. God sees the inherent value and dignity within each one of us—created by God, loved by God, and redeemed by that grace. 

            We can even look to the Gospel of John and Jesus’s prayer to see how Jesus invested in his own disciples. These are just a few examples: Jesus says he gives eternal life to each one given to him. He gave his followers God’s message. Jesus prays, “Now protect them by the power of your name, so that they will be united just as we are.” Jesus speaks of protecting the disciples, prays for God to keep them safe from the evil one, and to make them holy. All throughout this chapter is Jesus’s awe-inspiring prayer, pouring out his love for his disciples and pleading with God to keep them safe and strong. 

            Jesus invested in them. He taught them to heal, to preach. He showed them signs and miracles. He revealed to them holy truths coming down from the very wisdom of God. For their part, they were not perfect. They deserted him in the garden. Peter denied him over and over. They hid in fear after the crucifixion. The fussed amongst themselves over who would be the first in the kingdom, so by no means were they perfect. They were broken, messy people. But Jesus loved them, and Jesus invested in them all along the way until they came alive and burst forth with the power of the Holy Spirit empowering them like never before. 

            How do we, then, invest in others like God does? First, we have to realize that when we invest our time and energy into other people, we are really investing God’s grace working through us. When you speak, the Spirit of God speaks through you. When you help, it is with the hands and feet of Christ. When you pray, it is backed by the power of the Almighty. Investing may be too costly for you or me, but nothing is ever too much or too costly for God. But we must have faith that God can work. 

We must also remember that it’s not our job to fix the people around us. We can help, certainly, but we cannot heal and restore all by ourselves. That has to be God’s work. Our job is to provide the opportunity for God’s grace to work. But investing is still risky, and people may cling to their brokenness. Love them anyway. Pray for them anyway. Continue to provide opportunities for grace anyway. God never turned a cold shoulder to Lot or Lot’s wife—the opportunity to be saved from the destruction and to find God’s grace was always there.

Our faith calls us to invest in others, yes even the messy and broken, even the ones who hide in the appearance of perfection, even the ones who may let us down. The church is intended to provide the tools and space for people to have a relationship with God and to know God’s love in their lives. Invest, regardless of the risk, but always make sure that what you invest is the grace of God to heal and to restore even those who appear to be the most broken. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/258479789019728/

Christian Leadership in Present Times Pt. 5

Leadership Seeks Peace—Psalm 3; Matt. 26: 47-56

            Seek peace. That kind of commandment seems a bit out of our reach these days, doesn’t it? We’re surrounded by a world of turmoil, of hostility, of volatility, of conspiracy theories, and of fighting. As we come back again to our series, Christian Leadership in Present Times, we encounter a rather abrupt stop today. When exactly was the last time we felt peaceful and at peace? There are actually two types of peace—and we see both in our song and scripture today. One type we will hear in our closing hymn, “Peace, peace, wonderful peace, coming down from the Father above.” Essentially, all is calm, and we are given God’s gift of peace in our lives. The other type we hear in the opening hymn, “Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.” Here, peace is something we work for—instead of being at peace we make peace happen in a troubled world. Today, we need to consider both of these types of peace. 

            First, let’s consider what it means to be at peace. There are two very big reason why we have no peace in our lives: we feel unsafe, or we feel unloved. In our Psalm today, we hear a song of peace for someone who feels trouble and danger around them. There is fear that God will not rescue even as enemies rise against the Psalmist. But the writer says, “You, O Lord, are a shield around me: you are my glory, the one who holds my head high.” One of the biggest issues of the past year is the very powerful fear that we are not safe. 

            We have worried about becoming sick and dying from the virus. We have worried about our leadership in Washington. We have worried about church decline. We have felt that every institution in our life: health, good government, and faith is crumbling and falling apart around us. A year ago, the biggest worry was whether or not the church would sing the hymn I like. Now we have to worry when we can safely leave our houses to go to church and gather again. We may have different philosophies and politics, but we’re all united by our thinking of apocalyptic doom. I guess it’s different paths, same destination. 

            The Psalmist felt that same fear, begging for God’s rescue and safety from enemies. But there is a clear note of trust. We hear in verse 4, “I cried out to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy mountain.”. In verse 5 we read that the Psalmist sleeps well. In verse 6 we hear the resolution that the Psalmist is not afraid. And finally, in verse 8, the assurance that victory comes from the Lord. The Psalmist found peace because of that deep trust in the Lord. 

            Sometimes, too, we lose our peace because we feel unloved. Writer and missionary Elisabeth Elliot speaks to that, saying, “In my own life, I think I can honestly say that out of the deepest pain has come the strongest conviction of the presence of God and the love of God.” The struggle in our lives can never be connected to the amount and depth of God’s love for us. God’s peace doesn’t necessarily provide you with the answer, expectation, or meaning you want for suffering. Instead God’s peace comes in the form of God’s presence and the reminder that in all situations God loves us even to the extent of the pain of the death and miracle of resurrection. To find peace, we must look for God’s presence and remember God’s unfailing love. 

            But we don’t just live our lives at peace, we also have to work for peace in this world. The story we read in Matthew usually comes close to the Easter season, but it speaks to us now of Christ making peace happen in the midst of turmoil. Jesus is confronted in the garden. The whole scene is tense—Jesus had been praying in earnest while the disciples slept. Judas had betrayed Jesus for some money. In perhaps one of the most gut-wrenching scenes prior to the crucifixion, Judas greets Jesus warmly, as a close friend, in an act of complete and evil betrayal. Jesus’s disciples prepare to fight, and at least one attacks wounding a servant of the high priest. 

            Jesus stopped his disciple before any more blood could be shed.  Some gospels, including Luke and John, even say that Jesus healed the servant’s ear, and they identify Peter as the disciple so ready to fight. Jesus’s response to the fight is to say, “Put away your sword. Those who use the sword will die by the sword,” in verse 52. This is a really tough scripture for many of us. Jesus and the disciples would have been more than justified in fighting, in starting a revolution and going to war against the oppressive Pharisees and Sadducees. We could find any number of reasons to justify violence and defense here. 

            But Jesus lived the very lesson he taught—turn the other cheek, and blessed are you when you are persecuted, insulted, or have evil spoken against you from the Beatitudes. Jesus’s choice assured that he would be beaten and killed. But the whole way he lived in the very peace he taught, not lashing out, stopping the bloodshed, and condemning a life lived by the sword. Living at peace in this world does not mean beating everybody else into silence and submission. That’s called oppression. That’s what Rome did to make peace in the rebellious Judea. Jesus, instead, protected his very enemies in the garden from harm even as his very act of peace caused his own death to soon come. 

            Jesus was even at peace with his betrayer Judas. Now, as I am not like Jesus all the time, if Judas had come up to me and betrayed me with the warmest greeting possible between friends, I would have smacked the snot out of him. Jesus, however, addressed Judas as “my friend,” and simply tells him to do what he has come to do. Living at peace is so hard because it requires us to lay down our own swords and defenses and instead trust God’s infinite wisdom whether that keeps us safe as the Psalmist or leads to our suffering like Jesus. 

            Peace is often very difficult to find in life. If we are troubled, we sometimes have to trust in God to give us peace in spite of what is around us. That kind of peace can only come as a gift from God. If we see turmoil in the world around us, we must go out and teach that war, fighting, and tension are not the answer. Instead we must live in open communication and respect for one another. So today I pray that you find that peace which passes all understanding and is such a miraculous gift. But I also pray you set the example. Confront wounds, miscommunications, anger, and resentment. Do so gently and with love. Be peacemakers in our dysfunctional world who remind people that God loves them and will bring peace in our time. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/135230076517491/videos/2907654682826338