Something More... (Part 4)

“Something More than a Feeling” Proverbs 3:3-4; I John 4:7-21

            During college I filled in as the musician at a small country church for one and only one Sunday. I’ve never told this story before. As the choir warmed up the hymns, two of the 9 choir members began to have a disagreement over how a hymn should be sung. I stopped playing to give them room to fight over the speed and a couple of perceived wrong notes (though they were all a bit out of tune). After yelling insults back and forth, expounding on their varied knowledge of music, the two came to final crescendo of the fight. One threw her hymnal down and declared that she was leaving for good. As she was storming out the back, the other one wadded up her bulletin and hurled at the back of the one walking out and yelled, “And stay out you old cow!” And because I was not to be outdone, I started playing the hymn, “Keep on the Firing Line.” I never went back, but I’ve always been curious how things turned out. 

            In that comical but sad context we hear the words of I John 4: “Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” Or as Proverbs 3 so carefully reminds us, “Let love and faithfulness never leave you.” Love is one of the most versatile words in the English language. We can at the same time say that we love a burrito as well as say that we love the Lord with all our heart, and in both contexts, “love” means something different. Obviously, we don’t love objects or things in the same way we love God. As far as the idea of “love” as used in the Bible, C. S. Lewis wrote about the four different words or types of love that could be meant. 

            The first is the Greek word storge (storg-ay) which is an empathetic or familial bond much like a parent and child. When we think on this kind of love, we are drawn to verse 9, “God showed u show much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world.” Over and over I John talks about God sending Christ, the Son, so that we might be children of God as well. This image reminds us of God as the provider and caregiver, for as the old hymn says, “Be not dismayed, whate’er betide, God will take care of you.” Familial love is one that is supposed to be warm and nurturing but also tough where it needs to be to encourage growth. 

            In a way it’s almost pastoral as a minister relates to his or her congregation. One of our beloved, retired ministers said some very wise words to me once. In the context of families and churches, you have to remember that feelings are facts no matter how silly it may seem to you. To that person who is feeling the emotions, those feelings are stone cold facts, and you must address it as such. It’s called empathy, and that allows us to love and care by understanding from another’s point of view, not just feeling the emotion, but understanding it. 

            Similar to familial love, the next type, philia, is often described as a friendship as close as brother or sisterhood. Verse 12 says, “No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full completion in us.” This type of love is risky because it calls us to make bonds and connections of deep trust with people who aren’t family or a spouse. That kind of love is difficult because it has to grow its own foundation. It’s a testimony, though, to God living in us when we learn to love through a bond with others as opposed to obligation or mission. There’s a newer hymn that says, “Let us join our hands that the world will know we are one in the bond of love.” God calls us to trust and love one another 

             We are going to skip the third one, eros, or romantic love, and move along to the final one. You’re very single pastor is not going to offer marital advice as we’d all find that just a bit rich, I think. Lastly, then, is agape (uh-gawp-ay) love which is the highest form and the charitable, sacrificial, and unmatchable love of God. Verse 10 speaks to this, “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” Real love understands both the power of that warmth and goodness flowing from a softened, trusting heart, but also knows the risks found in sacrifice. John 15:13 says, “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Now, likely, you are not going to be called to love even until you are sacrificed to death, but love can still call us to give some of ourselves. 

            I’ve often heard people say that true, Christ-like love is more than a feeling. It’s a verb, an action, something we live and do. Love is found in those who sacrifice the time to volunteer to serve meals to the poor and needy. Love is found in those who give up a little something to buy a few Kroger cards or donate to the food/mission drives. Love is found in being present when people need someone in their lives. Love is found in welcoming all into God’s house so that not one soul ever misses an encounter with Christ who loves them, redeems them, and calls them his very own. 

            Love is something we do, more than a feeling. I John gives a warning about this agape love, saying that “anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” God IS love. It’s not a feeling, not a wish, want, or lukewarm attachment. God is love. And such love casts out fear. I find so many Christians who live in fear, dread, and worry. God’s love casts out that fear. The only truly scary thing in life is that humanity doesn’t love nearly enough like God does. 

            I’ll tell you another little story about love. There was a small church of faithful people from several different religious backgrounds. They had all come to a tiny Christian church seeking love, somewhere they felt welcome, somewhere that challenged complacency but comforted the bruised soul. And as they came, they found more people wanted to come, but it was very different. There were people who looked differently, spoke other languages, had personal issues that made trust tougher to establish, who loved and lived life differently, who were well-versed in the world, but were still searching for something to touch the soul. 

            Every one of them came into this church from so many different places in life, so many varied backgrounds and understandings, but there was one thing they all soon noticed. Every last one of them wanted to find what I John talks about: God’s unconditional, sacrificial, and everlasting love that changes hearts, comforts souls, and reminds the broken that blessed are the poor in spirt. And even as they searched out for this love of God, they found, too, the importance of loving one another. It wasn’t easy because love is messy, vulnerable, and often in need of forgiveness. But soon that love from God spread all around, and everyone knew this incredible power—to show God’s love in how they lived, shared, and acted in their faith. 

            My friends, love is one of the most powerful things we have. It called Christ to the cross, it freed us from all that sought to destroy us. And it promises us an everlasting hope. And, I believe, John is telling us that God’s love truly can change the world. So listen to the advice of the Psalm: “Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, and write them on…your heart.” 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1138031300014847

Something More... (Part 3)

Something More than Loneliness: Ps. 23; I John 3:16-24

            When I left for college, my grandmother (not Nanna) had mixed emotions. She was happy for me, worried about me, and fearful of anything and everything. I will never forget the little pep talk which included a dire warning. Because I would be alone so much, I needed to prop a chair under the doorknob so no one would break in and kidnap me. I gently and jokingly replied that it would take 6 of them to carry me off, but she was undaunted. There was this grave fear of me, her, or anyone being alone, and the dangers and anguish found in loneliness. 

            As we continue our series on “Something More…” we confront this fear head on. Many of us have struggled through the past year. We were isolated at home. For some of us that’s not a problem because we have being alone down to a perfect art form. Yet the vast majority of us are social creatures, and this whole thing was hard—the death, the loneliness, the normality turned to daily struggle. But today we look at this idea of something more. God has something more for us than suffering in loneliness. We are reminded, over and over, that God is with us as shepherd, in the interconnectedness of love, and in Christian fellowship. 

            The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Psalm 23 gives us so many beautiful references of God as our shepherd, who is close to us when we struggle. We read that there is nothing we need, we rest in the meadows, and are led by peaceful streams. We hear how God renews our strength, guides us in right paths, and keeps us from fear in the dark valley. Psalm 23 is often used at funerals because it serves primarily as a psalm of comfort and hope. 

            The imagery of God as the Good Shepherd is something more than just comforting. It is something more than a reminder of God’s provision. It is something more than a statement of God leading us. It tells us of the presence of the shepherd in all situations, in all troubles, and in all times of life. Much of the work of a shepherd is geared towards keeping the sheep safe. Lost and lonely sheep get in to trouble. Sheep without leading and guidance will always, always find danger just as often in a herd as if they are alone. The shepherd provides a presence to protect, provide, and maintain the flock of sheep. For us it is the same. There is something more than loneliness for the Good Shepherd is with us, and we are reminded that even as goodness and mercy shall follow us, that we will live in God’s house forever. That promise is something more that the nothingness of being left alone. 

            But just as we are connected to the shepherd, we have an interconnectedness with one another through love. I John speaks to this telling us that real love is sacrificial, for Jesus gave up his life for us…so, too, we ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters. There is even an example: from those who are well off, there is a responsibility to care for and show compassion to a brother or sister in need. I John goes so far to ask of those who refuse to show compassion, “How can God’s love be in that person?” We see this cold-heartedness creep up in small ways: opposition to a sheltering place for those without heat or homes, an expectation that those who are less wealthy should not mix with those who are wealthy, race and income blaming, and the list goes on.  

            I John reminds us that we should not merely say we love one another, we should show the truth of our love by our actions. I will never forget being at a statewide event in high school. We had to introduce ourselves and talk about a project we were working on. The girl in front of me, who was from the big city and was clearly wealthy, talked about her school’s outreach into this nasty little town of rednecks where all the kids didn’t have shoes, full of inbreeding, uneducated hillbillies, and poverty. The town was Harlan, Kentucky. My hometown. And suddenly, it was my turn to pick my jaw up off the floor from being so stunned and introduce myself. I politely and warmly told them I had shoes, a good education, and planned to work on the evils of prejudice just like this, and even pointed to her in the process. The room was silent. 

            We are all interconnected with one another through God’s love for us, and our call to be ambassadors and representatives of that love, no matter who we are or what our station is in life. Sometimes we may feel alone and need a reminder of God’s presence. But sometimes we fight that connection with one another and with God, choosing to stubbornly go along our own pathways of life. I John warns us against this saying in verse 24 that “those who obey God’s commandments remain in fellowship with him, and he with them.” Following and obeying God preserves the fellowship we have both with God and with one another. 

            Being connected with one another and having fellowship are both very important to us as God’s family. Fellowship is defined as “an association of people with a common interest.” (Google Dictionary). For us, that common theme or interest is our faith in Christ. For that reason, we cannot forsake the assembling of ourselves, as Hebrews 10:25 says, “And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another.” Just as we cannot forget the love and presence of the Good Shepherd in our lives, neither can we isolate ourselves and neglect our common connectedness to one another in God as well as our fellowship with God and with one another. 

            There is an old story that often finds its way into sermons, and it’s going to do so again starting in the next sentence. A preacher went to visit a man from his flock. The man had been very faithful in coming to church, serving, and participating in activities. Yet for a couple of months, he had not been coming. The preacher went to the man’s house for a visit. As it was a cold night, the man and the preacher went over and sat down by the fire. As the fire crackled and popped, the preacher suddenly took the fireplace poker and dug around in the fire for a particular piece of coal. 

            He then pulled that coal out of the fire to the edge of the hearth and left it there. At first the coal burned bright orange, but after a minute or so, it became dark and cool to the touch. The preacher took the poker and moved the dark, isolated, and lonely piece of coal back into the fire, and immediately it began glowing brightly with the flames. At this point, the preacher stood up, and put on his hat and coat to leave. The man looked up and spoke the first words of the evening, “Nice sermon, Preacher, I’ll see you on Sunday.” 

            Friends, our faith gives us a powerful connection to God where we can say, “What a friend we have in Jesus!” But our faith also makes us connected to and accountable to and for one another. Our faith is meant to comfort us when we feel alone, but also to challenge our rugged individualism and remind us that the power of God’s early church was their togetherness as told in Acts 2. So, in the presence of the God, Our Shepherd, and in fellowship together, we can say, “What a friend we have in Jesus, and what a family of faith we have with one another. Thanks be to God.”

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/2783519238566593

Something More... Part 2

Something More than Who We Are: Ps. 4; I John 3: 1-7

            I have found that there is a bonus to wearing masks besides avoiding COVID and the flu, and that bonus is not being recognized at the grocery store. Let’s all admit it…we never look our best going to buy groceries. My friend even calls it “grocery store makeup.” It makes life easier when we can run in and run out and be incognito the whole time. The trouble is that being undercover is great for groceries but cannot apply to other parts of our lives; for instance, our faith lives. We should be recognized as children of God. I find, though, that this can be difficult. First John presents it as either/or—light or dark, good and evil. But I struggle with this because humanity just kind of “is” in many ways and not radically one or the other. 

            I have seen non-Christians choose what is good and moral. I’ve seen professed Christians choose what is very bad and evil at times. What makes a life of faith—the children of God—different? From I John we learn that it’s this redemptive work, this grace in us that compels us to act in accordance with the fact that we are God’s children. We are to be something more than who we are. We are to be like Jesus. Let’s look at a few of the very, very many ways we can recognize children of God in the world. 

            First, children of God have what we can describe as eager expectation, or hope, as a basis for their actions. I John 3:3 says, “And all who have this eager expectation will keep themselves pure just as he is pure.” Over the years I have heard various interpretations of “pure” in Biblical terms. Some have attributed it to perfection like a spotless lamb. Some have said it directly references personal, physical, and sexual purity. Some have even said it means celibacy completely. However, I think the verses before give us a better context. These verses about what we will be like when Christ appears, “but we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is,” we are told in I John 3:2. 

            Purity here, talks about the purity of our relationship to God through the redemptive work of Christ. It’s less about our personal holiness and more about the clearness of our connection to God. Christ died for us, to redeem, and to give us that closeness of relationship—not servant, sinner, wicked, or acquaintance, but child of God living in this world. The purer and clearer the path or relationship between us and Christ, the less hidden and undercover we are in the world. An old hymn speaks to this closeness saying, “Nothing between my soul and the Savior. Keep the way clear, let nothing between.” 

            For the writer of John, sin is more about those things which come between you and your relationship with Christ: failing to pray regularly, holding a grudge that keeps you from forgiveness, hating enemies. The strength of your relationship to Christ is seen through how close you are willing to be drawn to Christ—“draw me nearer, nearer, nearer blessed Lord.” James 4:8 reminds us: “Come close to God, and God will come close to you.” That is how we remain pure and live into eager expectation and hope in God, through that close relationship. 

            Because of that clear connection between us and Christ, we ought to have a right spirit and, from that spirit, do what is right. Psalm 4 tells us to “offer sacrifices in the right spirit and trust the Lord.” We are given glimpses of this right spirit as it’s found in mercy, clean reputation, joyfulness, and peace. We are particularly told to check our anger. This is, perhaps, where we find out the truth of who is living as a child of God—no hiddenness, no undercover secretiveness. Is the spirit of God living in and acting through each part of us?  

            This is what truly separates the faithful from general humanity. In life, anyone can choose to do what is good and right. We can all understand ethics and finding the moral choice in a given situation. However, without God leading and guiding, life is moral anarchy. Each individual person is left to make good or bad choices on whatever belief system they have. (And everyone may end up with a totally different belief system.) For those who follow Christ, we have a right, or righteous, spirit, and we are called by God to do what is right. There is a clear and defined basis for what is right and moral. There is a book which tells us how to live Christlike in this world, and there is a call to follow God’s leading. It’s something more than who or what we are now left to our own devices. 

            I John 3:7 reminds us, “Dear children, don’t let anyone deceive you about this: when people do what is right, it shows that they are righteous, even as Christ is righteous.” Faith does not stop at the foot of the cross. Faith goes out into the world living, serving, and showing the transforming power of God’s love. Faith, then, begins at the foot of the cross. This verse in 1 John hints as to the motivation for what we do, and why our faith is different than everyday life. We are reminded that what we do is through the righteousness of Christ. An ethical person does what is right because of their own personal ethical standards, which may change. A Christ-follower does what is right because God has called them to what is right and has called them never to stray from it. This is more than just being generally a good person—it’s a call to do what is right, just, and holy because of our Christlike love for one another. 

            I guess what I John 3 gets right to the heart of is motive. In many of the old police shows and crime mysteries, there was always talk about motive—the “why explanation” of the crime. We’ve always been curious about this: why does someone do it? I John 3 tells us we have a choice in life—to do what is right or to do what is wrong. The question we are asked is this: what is your motive for choosing what is right in this world? There can be many reasons: I’m a good person, my parents taught me, I learned it in the military or school. But here we learn that through that pure connection to Christ we are called to live as children of God in this world. That is the something more than who we are. We’re not just good people—we have a mission in faith given by a God who loves us and calls us to love and service.

            We are told to search our hearts and souls for the motivation for how we live and act. An old hymn says, “Let others see Jesus in you.” Psalm 139: 23-24 says, “Search me, O God, and know my heart.” And the great Communion text in I Corinthians 11 reminds us that we should examine ourselves before God. The Bible is filled with points telling us to understand this right spirit and to be true to the motives we are given by our saving grace from God. 

            There are many times I’m happy to be undercover and incognito. Some of you have told me stories of running the other way in the grocery store when you’re on a mission to get out quickly. But our lives as children of God should never be hidden. We are called to be something more than who we are, and despite the black eye faith sometimes gets from misguided folks, it’s still something we should be proud of. Faith begins at the foot of the cross with Christ’s redeeming work. But, there is something more. Faith must go out into the world sharing that redeeming power, that right spirit, and our call to love unconditionally and sacrificially (just like Jesus) with the whole world. We are always near the cross, but always ready to take that cross with us in and for a world filled with people whom God loves.  

Service Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/768024883854774

Something More (Part 1)

Something Beyond Our Understanding: Ps. 133; I John 1:1-2:2

            One of my favorite types of books to read is suspense/mystery novels. I have always loved a good mystery. When I was young it was the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, as I got older it was Agatha Christie, then all sorts of others. And I can assure you it’s an inherited family trait. I’m willing to bet some of you like a good mystery too. You might have grown up with Scooby Doo or read mystery books as well. Or you may like a good old suspense movie trying to figure out “who done it?” Part of the attraction of a mystery is that “what’s next” feeling…the something more is going to happen with every turn of the page. 

            The Bible and our faith are often like that. We see in part, through a glass darkly, things are slowly and carefully revealed. As Easter Sunday concluded, we celebrated the risen Christ, but there’s a mystery…so now what? What do we do, how do we handle this good news, this faith we have? Surely, there is something more to be done, right? Our Easter series is designed to help you with just that question, surely there’s something more. Today we look at some things perhaps beyond our understanding, and we cover three mysteries: the mystery of how we live with God, the mystery of how we handle the weight on our soul, and the mystery of how we live together. This sermon is a little back to the basics, but sometimes it’s good to re-read the book even if we know the end of the mystery already. 

            First, we have the mystery this relationship to God. First John reminds us that “God is light, and there is no darkness in him at all.” We are told in the next verses that we must live in the light to practice the truth and to have fellowship. Many of us have woken up in the dark of night before or have found ourselves in a darkened room. The routine is pretty standard. We grope around, move slowly, usually stub a toe or bump a knee. We do this for a few seconds until we can get to the nearest light. Our rush is to get to the light and turn it on because we feel safer in the light. We’re less vulnerable in the light. Instinctively we look for the light to help us find the way around the darkened room. 

            Choosing to do something in a hidden way or under the cover of night implies that what is being done is wrong, and the person knows it. There are many things we do in secret or hide away. I’ll never forget a dinner with a Baptist minister and friend who ordered a glass of wine. Suddenly he grabbed it and hid it under the table. One of his members was in the restaurant, and he didn’t want to be seen having a glass of wine as a good Baptist preacher. Live in the light. Just because bad things get hidden doesn’t make them any less wrong for us or trouble-making for others. The mystery of relating to light of God is that God already knows—you can’t hide—so you may as well be open and honest so that truth, understanding, and healing can take place. 

            That brings us to another mystery—so we have a few things hidden—how do we handle this coming into the light stuff? There really is no wiggle room, unfortunately. First John tells us in verse 9, “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all wickedness.” The best way to be honest with God (and ourselves for that matter) is simply to confess what we are feeling or may have done. 

            Sometimes we struggle with this level of honesty. We can be angry with God, feel like God has abandoned us, feel so very confused by what God is doing. Sometimes the very thoughts and feelings within us are truly a mystery. “Why God? Why me? Why this? Why now?” We ask over and over these questions that give us pain, but still create this confusion or even guilt for questioning, struggling, doubting. God knows. Confess those struggles and feelings to God and find either peace for the suffering or forgiveness to repair the strained relationship. God is faithful and just in all things and in all ways. 

            Confess to God whether it be things hidden away, the pain, the struggles, all those repressed angry thoughts. God knows, and God can handle your openness and honesty. I remember a scene in the move The Apostle where the main character is hollering and carrying on late at night. When a neighbor calls over, his elderly mother says, “Ever since he was a young child, sometimes he talks to the Lord, and sometimes he yells at the Lord, tonight he’s yelling at the Lord.” The worst thing we can do is wander in the darkness of believing that we can hide something from God. We can hide from others, but God knows it all already. The mystery is simple, confess honestly and with a heart ready to receive whatever is needed from God. 

            Lastly is this mystery of harmony with one another. Psalm 133 tells us, “How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.” Harmony is further described as “precious” and “refreshing.” I think we could all say that in our polarized and divisive society, a little harmony would be refreshing. I’ve heard harmony described as grace’s bank account (not the grace we get from God, but the grace we give to one another). Some days we will receive deposits because we need a little more grace in our lives when life is rough and so is our attitude. Sometimes we will have debits because those around us need a little grace in their lives when they go through the rough patches. 

            The truth is, no matter how difficult we can be, God is always willing to give us grace no matter how much we need in a given time, and there are days we need a lot of forgiving grace that comes with our saving grace. Since God is so generous, we cannot be stingy with others, for we are told that living in harmony is precious, wonderful, and pleasant. There is no real mystery to living in harmony. It is simply offering love and grace like Jesus—to be compassionate rather than reactive, loving rather than harsh, and gentle rather than pointed. 

            I think, from time to time we all love a good mystery. There are many things about faith that are a mystery to me and probably to you as well. I know that the Holy Spirit exists, but I don’t know how to humanly explain exactly what that is. I know that Jesus loved and sacrificed for you and me, but I don’t understand all the innerworkings of redemption. Sometimes the mysteries leave us hanging until we get to part two, and that’s okay. Just because some of faith is still a mystery doesn’t undo the whole of faith. God has shown us some truth in the Bible, and one day, we are promised to finally know it all. 

            What is not a mystery is that we must live in the light of God, for nothing can be hidden or secreted away from the Lord. May we be open, honest, confess our struggles to the one who hears us, gives us grace, and gives us strength. Just as there’s a plot twist in every chapter of the book, so, too, does each new day give us something more from God.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/307694054033215/?notif_id=1618153316876353&notif_t=page_post_reaction&ref=notif

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