Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 4

Facing Rejection: Psalm 32: 1-5; Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

            One of the hardest things we deal with in life is rejection. We see the little boy on the playground holding a daisy he just plucked up from the wildflowers nearby and holding it out to the little girl. But she replies with, “Eww, cooties!” and runs away. We see the woman in middle age who has learned her husband and partner of many years has been unfaithful and broken the marriage trust, and now their years of investment together are no more. She feels rejected and tossed aside. We see an elder, filled with wisdom, love, and a desire to connect with others, sitting alone in a care facility wondering if all her family and friends have rejected her and left her to a lonely demise. 

            Rejection is hard, painful, and filled with years of trying to reconcile the bitterness. This parable of Jesus speaks to rejection. It’s one of Jesus’s most versatile parables—usable in so many situations and places of life for understanding and guidance. But one theme that resonates throughout is a family facing rejection, and how they processed through it. A son rejects a father. A father overcomes rejection. A brother feels rejected by the father, and all must learn where to go from here. What does Jesus, in this parable, teach us about facing rejection? 

            Jesus begins the parable with a rather whiny and spoiled child, perhaps a young man, but still a child, asking his father for his inheritance, so he could leave the family. This was a tremendous insult in ancient times. One did not humiliate and insult a father like this. The son is not only rejecting his father, but he is also rejecting his entire family and all that he has been taught and raised with. In many ways this could be seen as both a rejection and a betrayal. 

            Knowing his son would have to learn the hard way, the father divides his estate and gives the son his allotted share. Rejection and betrayal, however, often lead to loneliness and alienation. The son squandered all he had and ended up broke, starving, and alone. He was forced to work with pigs which made him unclean and untouchable according to the customs and faith. And yet, while we so often focus on the suffering of the prodigal child, let’s not forget that the father’s heart broke every single day over and over while his son was gone…worrying, praying, hoping one day the rejection and separation would be over. 

            For his part, the father is amazing in this parable. His exploitive, dirty, cruel, and wasteful son comes crawling back begging only to be a hired servant, knowing he is unworthy of any more based on his hostile and hateful treatment of his father. Expecting the worst and having learned his lesson, the son goes home. But his father welcomes him with open arms—with love, forgiveness, and the biggest, happiest party he can put together. His father’s exact words were, “He once was lost but now is found.” The son is no longer full of his anger and rejection, and the father’s broken heart is mended. 

            But there’s still a bit of rejection to deal with in this family. The older brother, who has faithfully served and worked with the father, feels rejected, unappreciated, stuck in a thankless place while his messy brother gets a party simply for showing up after a long walk on the wicked side. He’s mad. He addresses his father hatefully, refusing to say the customary greeting of “Father,” and filled with anger and pain at feeling rejected by the father. The father tries to calm him down with a gentle address. “Son…” he begins softly. He then reminds his older son that everything is his. His years of service and dedication will pay off not in a short party, but in receiving literally everything. The parable ends, and we aren’t told the older son’s reaction. 

            What do we do when we feel rejected, unwanted, and even alone in this world? We go back home. For some of us, home is a place. For others, home is the presence or memory of a person we love. For some of us, home is where we feel ourselves in the presence of God, for we are always at home with God. We also must live in grace and not in anger. Consider the reaction of the father. He could have angrily cast the son back out. He could have accepted the offer and made his son a servant. But this was his son, and he loved his son. When we love someone, we find a way to both hold them accountable and give them grace. For the son, accountability was letting him go and fail. He learned his lesson, and he learned it with hard consequences. When his father dies, he receives nothing, and he will either have to find work elsewhere or pray that his brother is more forgiving. 

            That welcome home, that grace which reconciles and reconnects has to be based on accountability and repentance. Letting an unchanged betrayer or rejecter back into your life is not grace…it’s foolishness. They don’t learn and grow, and you aren’t safe. If the son had come back still filled with pride and demands, the father would have been right to say no to him. Jesus often said, “Go and sin no more.” He said, “You must be born again.” He called upon repentance and a new way before people could be reconciled. It’s a fair and right request. A person who has wronged us must change before we let them back into our lives. 

            If you are the prodigal son, remember that there is love and forgiveness with the father. God’s grace is welcoming, restorative, and healing to a deeply wounded soul. If you are the older brother, remember that a welcome home for the lost one doesn’t undo all the good and all the strength you have lived with. All that the father has is yours, and God will be generous and merciful unto you. But be like the father in life. When his problematic son came home, humbled, grown up, wiser, and completely broken by the world he chose to live in, his father welcomed him with love and open arms. 

            Facing rejection in life is hard. It brings us to a place of deep and bitter sadness. It leaves families, lives, and relationships broken in a way that may never be the same. But we believe in a God of lavish welcome, a God who heals brokenness, and a God who can give rest for weary souls. When rejection becomes the narrative of life, God is still the author of grace which redeems, restores, and makes whole the broken places we live in. So go home, and find new life and new healing in God’s loving grace. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/5207007689363865

Facing Life's Toughest Battles: Lent 3

Facing Stubbornness: Isaiah 55: 1-9; Luke 13: 6-9

            In school we were required to read the book The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The book explored the struggle of a man named Dr. Jekyll who created a serum which transformed him into this horrible person, Mr. Hyde, who was fueled only by his carnal desires and meanness. The great discovery in the book is that it is not two people, but one who changes back and forth from the good to the bad. The book has even spawned a saying where we call someone a “Jekyll and Hyde” to say they have an unpredictably dual nature—outwardly good, but sometimes shockingly evil. 

            Stubbornness is much this same way. It’s dual in nature. There are times stubbornness can cause us real and severe problems. But there’s sometimes that we can be just stubborn enough to be saved from times of trial and trouble. In its bad form, stubbornness leads us down a road to hardheartedness. But in its good and useful form, stubbornness leads us to strong resilience. The question is who’s driving the stubborn bus that we’re on, us or God? 

            When we are stubborn, we can sometimes become hardhearted. Stubbornness may be defined as a determined refusal to change one’s position even if good arguments are presented to us. We read in our Gospel lesson that Jesus told a parable to the people. In this parable, he is giving them a talking to. He told them about a fig tree which was a constant disappointment. Year after year, it stubbornly refused to produce anything. After three years of enduring stubbornness by the tree, the man has decided it’s time for it to go. It will be cut down and done away with.

            Jesus was tired of the stubbornness of the people who continued to be spiritually immature. Just prior to this parable, there was some conversation that if bad things happen to people, it’s because of their sin. Jesus says no to this stubborn old, and sometimes cruel, belief. It is time to put this old, stubborn, and hardhearted notion to rest once and for all. If someone endures suffering in this life, it does not mean they are a sinner and being punished. You don’t tell a lie and get a hurricane. You don’t cheat on your taxes and cause a pandemic. God does not send a boil on your bum for each swear word you say. That’s petty; that’s not God. 

            Instead, we have to live with the consequences which stem from our willful refusal to follow God, our stubbornness in this life. God may not orchestrate a sickness upon us, but if we don’t practice safety, we will get sick and maybe face dire outcomes. God may not send the boil, but if you don’t treat it, you get sepsis. In the same way, a stubborn refusal to seek and follow Christ will lead us to a hardhearted place where we find the Mr. Hyde of the story. Stubbornness is expensive, and it costs us whatever joy, hope, or salvation is found in the good news we reject. Think of the suffering Pharaoh and his people endured only because he was stubborn and hardened his heart to God. Stubbornness which leads us down the hardhearted road will surely lead us to produce no good fruit and leave us following paths that lead us away from God’s grace. 

            But there is some good which can come from being a bit stubborn, and that is found when we use our stubbornness to create strength and resilience. In Isaiah, God is calling the people through the prophet to return to God’s wisdom. Verse 2 says, “Listen to me, and you will eat what is good. You will enjoy the finest food.” If the people but turn their hearts to God, then God will make an everlasting covenant just as existed with King David. However, God says the people must listen to God’s wise counsel. 

            Our fig tree is much the same. The gardener intervened into the destructive intent of the owner. He offers to give the fig tree special attention and nurture it with plenty of fertilizer. The hope is that the tree can be turned from barren waste to a tree full of strong resilience and good fruit. When I think of a good sense of stubbornness I’m think immediately to the Ukrainian people and President Zelenskyy, all of whom have stayed in the country and vowed to fight the evil stubbornness and devastation which has been unleashed upon them. 

            God needs stubborn people—people who know how to be strong in hard times, who have the courage to speak truth, love with compassion, and live in God’s justice and mercy. I often say stubbornness is what saved this church years ago. There was a small handful of people in 2007 who resolutely said that this church would not close though times were tough. And now, for almost 15 years since, we have grown, changed, and ministered mightily in this church and in this community. 

            The trouble with stubbornness is it must always be nurtured for good. For Dr. Jekyll, the fascination with being the wicked and indulgent Mr. Hyde got the better of him. He lost control and began changing into the evil persona even when he didn’t want to do so. Eventually, Mr. Hyde won out and Dr. Jekyll was lost. The way to build stubbornness into resilience and strength which dos good work and produces good fruit is through nurture, wisdom, and lots of good fertilizer on our own fig trees. That sense of strength and goodness, that deep rooted grace within us, must be constantly tended to, so that our roots grow even deeper, and our lives produce much good fruit for God. 

            The question for us, then, is will we be a stubborn people like Israel wandering in the desert, or will we be a stubborn people like Paul who followed God and preached the Good News no matter what? Are we willing to let God work on or person and character to make something good and beautiful, and Christlike out of it? As the hymn says, “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling…” Why tarry stubbornly when Jesus is pleading? Why linger stubbornly and ignore God’s loving mercy? 

If Jesus told a parable about each of us as a fig tree, what would he say? How deep would Jesus say our roots go? How much time have we spent being nurtured and tended to by our holy gardener? And most important in our daily walk with Christ—what kind of good fruit are we producing? 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/648466536255895

Facing Life's Tough Battles: Lent 2

Facing Opposition: Psalm 27; Luke 13: 31-35

            It is safe to say that the stories of Jesus are often my favorite part of the Bible. Because of my work in criminal justice, I’m fascinated by the words, the behaviors, and the teachings. Some of Jesus’s responses are so filled with care, gentleness, compassion, and the kind of healing that just lifts up every broken piece and makes it perfectly whole. And…then there’s this scripture. 

            As much as I love the loving, caring, and sacrificial behaviors of Jesus, there’s something that’s a bit thrilling when Jesus gets all sassy with people who are causing trouble. In some ways it speaks to our own inner smart aleck, who looks at this and says, “Mhmm.” Jesus, in today’s scripture, and in much of his life faced opposition and personal difficulty. Whether Herod, the Pharisees, or a populace that went with whatever whim in their mind that day, Jesus faced times when he had to defend and push back. There are two main ways to handle opposition in our lives: confrontationally or sacrificially. 

            One of the ways Jesus handled opposition and trial was confrontationally. A few of the Pharisees came to him with a warning that Herod Antipas wanted to kill Jesus, and he should flee from the Jerusalem area if he wanted to live. I think Jesus really questions their motives for this. Remember this is the Pharisees, so it’s just as probable that they simply want Jesus gone as much as they want to warn and help him. Jesus’s answer seems to imply that he also suspects their motives for warning him about Herod’s wrath. Though, Herod was certainly not some easy-going king. By this point, he’d had John the Baptist brutally killed, so it was highly likely he had his murderous intents set on Jesus as well. 

            Jesus, rather than cower at Herod’s political power, tells the Pharisees to go and tell Herod that Jesus’s purpose would be accomplished. Jesus had a mission of redemption and salvation, and there was no power on Earth, which Herod had, that could interfere with Jesus’s mission. Jesus even calls him a fox. That’s meant to imply that Herod is cunning, sneaky, devious. Jesus uses the image of the fox to conjure up some predator sneaking into a henhouse to kill and destroy. Herod tried to be a bully, but Jesus had none of it. 

            This confrontational Jesus is not just limited to this particular scripture. We also see Jesus flip tables in the temple when the house of God is perverted for profit. We see Jesus defiant and strong against would-be plots to trip him up with weird questions and theological challenges from the Pharisees and Sadducees. Where there is injustice, impropriety in the house of God, or religious rigidity which did not follow with Jesus’s call to love, forgiveness, and redemption, Jesus flipped tables, called out the foxes, and challenged the leaders who were holding the Jewish people hostage in a cold, dead, and legalistic and hateful religion. 

            Where that exists today, we must gently, faithfully, and with every word and movement based in God’s word challenge and confront what is wrong, unjust, and un-Christlike in our society. Jesus had no problem confronting those who spoke religious words but had no faith. Jesus had no problem calling the corrupt Herod Antipas a fox. Jesus had no trouble calling for holy changes in God’s house. Sometimes, opposition, whether active opposition or the oppression of the status quo, demands that we gather up our spiritual wits and confront it. 

            But, as Ecclesiastes says, to everything there is a season and time. There is also a time for sacrifice when opposition arises. To those who are fighters and not lovers, this one may be a bit harder. Jesus foreshadows what will happen when he returns to Jerusalem, saying, “You will never see me again until you say, ‘Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’” The next time they would see Jesus is when he is set up to be killed. 

            Jerusalem had a long history of showing a low tolerance for prophets. Stephen was martyred there. Jerusalem had also killed Uriah, Zechariah, several killed by Manasseh, Josephus Antiquites, and according to some scholars, Isaiah. Jesus understood sometimes the cure for opposition is sacrifice. He told the disciples that there is no greater love than laying down one’s life for another. The Psalm tells us that evil may come to devour us and foes may attack us, but there is strength to be found in God. The Psalm tells us, “Be brave and courageous. Wait patiently for the Lord.” 

            Biblically, the greatest story of overcoming opposition was that of Jesus going to the cross to sacrifice for us. Jesus tells the Pharisees in his pointed words to Herod, “I will keep on casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose.” Jesus’s purpose, though, wasn’t to defeat that fox once and for all. His purpose was a cross looking toward a resurrection which would cast out evil and heal us all. It is sometimes hard to accept that the Jesus who flipped tables in righteous fury is also the Christ of the cross, who gave his life and taught us what it means to sacrifice for others. 

            As a society, we seem to have become comfortable with being confrontational, but we’ve lost or understanding or desire to be sacrificial. Perhaps it’s seen as weak, as giving up or giving in, or maybe we’d just rather fuss vaguely about having “our rights” when called on to sacrifice. Jesus confronted what was unjust but sacrificed himself for others. We, too, are called to both. We must stand with Jesus against the foxes of this world and the foxes of the church. Make no mistake, Herod practiced the Jewish religion—he was neither pagan nor atheist. 

            But we are also called to live sacrificially. Just as Jesus walked a lonely road to the cross for us, we must take up our cross daily and serve God. If you’re like me, you might really enjoy reading about this sassy Jesus who called Herod a fox and let it rip on the temple corruption. But also, we both have to realize that our hope and or faith is found in the Christ of the cross, who gives love, forgiveness, and life to all. 

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/674580467200793

Facing Life's Tough Battles, Lent 1

Facing the Wilderness—Deut. 26: 1-11; Luke 4: 1-13

            Today’s Gospel lesson begins with the words that Jesus “was led by the Spirit in the wilderness.” Many of the Biblical Commentaries give great detail to the theology surrounding the temptations. They talk extensively about the Christology of this passage, meaning an explanation of how Jesus is shown as the Son of God. But, for us, right now, the concern is how do we cope with living in the wilderness? Jesus was baptized, filled with the Spirit, energized, and living on the great spiritual high place, then immediately, he found himself in the wilderness. How do we, too, live in the wilderness? 

            There’s also the Deuteronomy passage for us, which records the departure of the Hebrew people from Egypt. If you recall, it was 40 years they wandered in the desert. But most translations call it a wilderness, not a desert. In thinking on that scripture, it’s easy to judge and say, “How dumb do you have to be to mess up so badly that God sends you to wander in the wilderness for 40 years?” But the truth is, it’s a lot easier to wind up in the wilderness than you may think. 

            Many of us find ourselves in the wilderness these days. Life has seemed kind of heavy. The news is dire. Our good health is fleeing quickly. We’re facing new places and challenges in life we never expected. All of these places that challenge our peace, comfort, and ease of mind can be rightly called a wilderness. Basically, you don’t have to be in a literal desert to find yourself in the wilderness. It’s a place of temptation, trial, and fear which all hit us when we are most weak, vulnerable, and insecure in our lives. 

            In that point of great weakness, need, and vulnerability, Jesus was not only struggling physically in the wilderness; he was also viciously tempted by Satan to make him utterly fail. It is when you are at your lowest point in life’s wilderness that your trials and temptations will shout the loudest. The three points where Satan sought to tempt Jesus were doubt, greed, and selfishness. 

            Jesus was starving after fasting for 40 days, struggling, weary, and tired. Satan comes to him recognizing this weakness and taunts both Jesus’s sovereignty and exploits his hunger. Satan tells Jesus to turn the stones to bread. He doesn’t tempt Jesus to actually eat. He only lays the bait. He calls on Jesus to doubt that God the Father will sustain him through the wilderness and fasting. Jesus then redirects Satan—bread is not the point of life; God is the author, the source, and the whole reason for life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with greed. He offers the kingdoms of the world to Jesus. This temptation is harder than you may initially think. Greed is more than just money. It’s a lust power. It’s a gluttony for living in ways of excess which cause us to worship the world and its blessings instead of the One who created the world and all the blessings of it. If your wilderness is boredom, addiction, a desire for things, or a dissatisfaction with God and God’s blessings, then this is a tough temptation at your lowest point for it invites you to a momentary feel-good place instead of working through the trial with God. The invitation is to come and worship bad habits which feel good for a moment, instead of God who is strong and loving in every moment of life. 

            Then Satan tempts Jesus with selfishness. Satan takes Jesus to the holiest place and, knowing Jesus will not worship Satan, asks Jesus to worship himself. There’s an old movie called The Devil’s Advocate, where Al Pacino plays the devil. One of his lines in the movie is, “Vanity is my favorite sin.” Selfishness shows up a number of ways: criticizing constantly, needing to be right and show you are right (which I confess I need to lay on the altar myself), refusing to acknowledge a need for God and those who are around you. Vanity is an easy temptation because humility doesn’t exactly feel good most days. But we must find a careful, spirit-filled balance between good self-esteem and self-worship. 

            Jesus overcomes temptation. After tiring of Satan’s antics, he flat says, “You must NOT test the Lord your God.” With that Satan is finished…for now. An important point is that we are told Satan leaves “until the next opportunity.” Life is lived through a series of trials and temptations. It’s unfair, I’ll be the first to admit. But the unfairness is evened out, because just as Jesus had the strength to respond and navigate through the wilderness, so do we. The Hebrew people spent 40 years struggling through the wilderness, but God saw them through to the promised land. Jesus suffered for 40 days in the wilderness, but he came through and began a work which saved the world. 

            Living life in the wilderness is hard, and there’s no way to soften that truth. But the wilderness is made more bearable by a few things in life. First, like Jesus, we must face the wilderness filled with the Holy Spirit.  There’s really no other way to go through life’s wilderness and trials. Second we have a Savior who has suffered through and overcome the wilderness and a God who has power over all things including the power to get us through the wilderness. 

            Finally, we have people who will journey with us. I was cleaning out emails the other day and came across an old one from 2012 where Sissy, or Saint Sissy, as we called her wrote me an email while I was out sick with the flu. I imagined her sitting and slowly typing the short email with her small hands twisted up with arthritis, but still persisting in sending me a message. She told me to drink lots of hot green tea because it’s soothing for the throat and fever. She added, let God love on you. Me too. Sissy. Facing the wilderness can be frightening, the unknown, the doubt we carry, the inhumanity we see every day. But God is always with us, and there are those around us who will be our help and support as we journey together. As the hymn says, “What have I to dread, what have I to fear [when I’m] leaning on the everlasting arms?” Amen. 

   Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/650339992899412

Those Tough Lessons

Those Tough Lessons—Psalm 37: 1-5; Luke 6:27-38

             This portion of Luke is incredibly similar to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew where we hear the Beatitudes. In Luke, however, it is called the “Sermon on the Plain,” and it tracks the lessons in Matthew closely. I imagine those who heard it were a bit shocked at what Jesus had to say. 

            “Love your enemies.” That’s what the man said. He told us to love our enemies, and to do good to those who hate us. I mean, what does he even mean by that, and who is he kidding? I can barely tolerate my friends and family on a good day, and now I’m supposed to love my enemies? He told us that if someone slaps us on the cheek (and you know what an insult that is!) that we should turn the other cheek to them. I guess it’s to allow them to just keep slapping us around. Let me tell you, growing up, I was taught that if someone slaps you, you smack the snot out of them and never back down. 

            And for that matter, if someone curses me and hurts me, I ain’t going to bless them and pray for them. You know how to curse me, guess what, I learned a whole vocabulary of choice words to give you back buster. Then, and get this, he tells me that if someone robs or steals my coat to give them my shirt also. Guess I’m supposed to just go running around in my undershirt or something. He kept on and on with that saying to just let thieves have my stuff. Don’t try to get it back or nothing. Just let it go. 

            He rounded this whole sermon out by telling us not to judge or condemn others. That’s like taking away my favorite hobby—being judgy. And this statement—“Do to others as you would like them to do to you.” You know what, I’m not even going to set myself up like that. I’m going to do to others just exactly like they treat me. You’re good to me, I’m going to be good to you. If not, good luck. 

*** 

            These really are some of Jesus’s toughest lessons to us. In many ways they are the opposite of what training and instinct would tell us to do. But these things also provide two important aspects of faith: distinguishing and trusting. When we hear something difficult or receive a tough life lesson, the first question we always ask is “why?” Luke’s gospel actually provides us the why right here in the reading. In verses 32 we are told, “If you love only those who love you, why should you get credit for that? Even sinners love those who love them!” Again, in verse 33 we are told, “Even sinners do that much!” Verse 34 reiterates the same phrase that even sinners will lend money for a full return. 

            The question, then, is what distinguishes us as Christians from what is generally accepted practice in the world around us? If we do what even sinners do, how is being a Christian any different? Over and over in multiple gospels, we are given the message that it is not enough just to claim being Christian. Words are empty unless there is action on our part which clearly provides evidence of the claim of faith we make. Now, our grace is not found in the work we do, but the proof of our grace, and the evidence of the faith and belief we claim, is found in how we live and what we do. 

            Imagine if you know someone who claims to be a concert pianist, and you never see them even touch a piano? Or what if someone claims to be a master chef and all you ever see them make for food is cereal? The proof of our claims to faith is evidenced in how we live and what we do in this world. If just anyone love those who love them, go the extra step, and love your enemies as well. If just anyone gives for a full return, go the extra step, and give to those who cannot give the money back. Don’t judge, don’t condemn, and be distinguished by being more like Jesus. 

            Living this way not only distinguishes us, but also helps us grow in our trust in God. Psalm 37:3 and 5 tell us, “Trust in the Lod and do good…Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you.” To be this proactively faithful in our lives is more than we can really do on our own. The other day, I was driving near the 16/75 split. There was some crazy person in Mercedes SUV tailgating, weaving, and blaring the horn at traffic. They nearly ran me off the road. And in that moment, I can assure you that when it comes to “do good to those who hate you, [and] bless those who curse you,” I failed completely and utterly. 

            Following these teachings are so against our nature for preservation and safety as humans, that we can only live them with trust in God to guide us each moment. This idea of the “Golden Rule” is one of the best known, but least practiced parts of Luke’s gospel. We are told, “Do unto others as you would like them to do to you.” Our intuition in life is to be retribution minded. If this person causes me problems, I’m going to make their life miserable. I’ll be a smart aleck right back to them. As Christians we cannot live our lives on the moral that we should do to others as they do to us. Even if it costs us pain and suffering, we are to model the behavior we would like to see in others. 

            A pastor I’m friends with offered a quote once which resonated with me, and that I go back to often. He said, “Believing in Jesus is not all that difficult. Actually following him is incredibly hard but also completely life-changing.” Both the Sermon on the Mount and the Sermon on the Plain present a narrative of God’s expectation for us as God’s people. But the truth is both are incredibly difficult to live. Perhaps the best advice is in verse 5 of the Psalm, “Commit everything you do to the Lord.” None of these instructions will be possible to live without God’s help and God’s guidance blended with our trust. 

            All these instructions, however, Jesus not only taught but lived. He loved and offered grace to those who worked against him. They took his life, and he rose in glory. He offered himself for us even when we did not deserve it, and like a lamb he was led away quietly. He taught against condemnation and paved a way to undo judgment. And God never treats us harshly in return for how we’ve acted. Trust in God to help you each day, and we can begin to be the people of God’s kingdom we are called and empowered to be. 

Apologies. The livestream did not work today. The sermon is text only.

Spiritual Maturity Pt. 7

Spiritual Maturity 7: Motivated By Love, Not Fear:  Proverbs 10:9-12; I John 4: 7-20 

           Growing up, I often heard the phrase, “That’ll put the fear of God in him (or her).” Now, at times this was relayed as being a fear built on respect. But I couldn’t help noticing that all too often the motivator was not a healthy respect, but an actual and real fear which was created and cultivated in people. I remember in one church service we sang the old hymn, “The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell.” Then we sang, “When nothing else could help, love lifted me!” Then the sermon topic for the day was how God’s wrath burned mightily against the Israelites, and God opened a fiery pit in the earth and swallowed up the unfaithful ones in the desert. And all I could think was love better get to liftin’ me a bit faster. 

            Too many of us grew up with our primary motivation being an unhealthy fear, of life, of people, and of God. There’s no hope in that. There’s no joy to be found. It’s a faith based on what we call coercive control in legal circles, and the coercion being control by force or fear or threat of violence. Do this or be smote down by God. Our final mark of spiritual maturity by T.B. Matson is motivation out of love rather than fear. Love is affirming. Love is expansive, and love is courageous. 

            Love is affirming. Many of us live with small fears in our lives, or perhaps even big ones. We speak to our fears when we ask, “what if?” For example: “What if I fail? What if they die? What if these people don’t like me? What if I say or do something not socially acceptable or proper in this situation?” Hear this when I say it—that there is no doubt-filled “what if” question which comes from love. They are all based on fear. Perhaps we can even speak to the biggest one in our society, “What will people think?” I John 4:9 says, “God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. 10 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.” 

            In Romans 3 we hear even more strongly that God did not send the Son into the world for condemnation, but so that we may have life, eternal life, and life with God as creator, redeemer, and sustainer. Never judgmental, God’s love is meant to be affirming and a daily reminder that we are redeemed children of God. Think of all the people who come here for church for a moment. How many of them would not be in church if we didn’t practice this affirming, caring, love which God has commanded us over and over again to show. Perfect love casts out fear. When we claim our faith in God, this love assures us that God claims us as beloved children. 

            Love is also expansive. Many have argued against this idea using Matthew 7:14, “Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” I heard a pastor friend take this idea up once. He said, “Narrow is the gate, and difficult is the way, but we must also remember ‘wide is the welcome unto this gate.’” I John makes this point clear in verse 8, “But anyone who does not know love does not know God, for God is love.” One commentary pointed something important. Jesus commands us to love in the gospels. But here, we are told to love not as a rule but because this is the very nature of God. Our love results from our faith, and we cannot truly love as God loves us until we have faith. 

We are then told to love one another. Verse 20 winds up by saying, essentially, if anyone has any malice or hate in their heart, their faith is a lie, for you cannot claim to love God yet hate other people. God is love. And God is love for those whom we don’t like, for those whom society doesn’t like, for those who have lived in evil—that love of God is still present and working to draw them out of that dark place where they live. God’s love is expansive, powerful, and never stops calling to us until the last breath of air is breathed. As Proverbs says, “love makes up for all offenses.” God is love, and that love lifts us from our place of sin, into a place of relationship. You cannot hate someone into faith. You cannot lecture them into belief. You cannot shut them out, punish them, or compel them into submission. The only thing which truly redeems and saves a person is this holy love coming from God unto us, for God is love, and in that love is hope and redemption. 

            Finally, love is courageous. There are a few verses in the Bible which can give us chills. I John 4: 18 is one of them: “Perfect love expels [or casts out] all fear.” Emmet Till was a 14-year-old African American child in Mississippi. In 1955, he was accused of whistling at a white woman in a grocery store. Shortly thereafter, her husband and his half-brother kidnapped and brutally murdered this child. His mother was asked if she hated or harbored bitterness towards the men who killed her son. She answered, “It certainly would be unnatural not to [hate them], yet I'd have to say I'm unnatural. The Lord gave me shield; I don't know how to describe it myself. I did not wish them dead. I did not wish them in jail. If I had to, I could take their four little children—they each had two—and I could raise those children as ifthey were my own and I could have loved them. I believe the Lord meant what he said and try to live according to the way I've been taught.” Love is courageous, and perfect love casts out all fear, and hatred, and anger. 

            The commentary followed this story with these words, “The church's love is progressively shaped by Christ and distilled of all corrupting…[fear], bitterness, and cynicism. As this happens, we may come to realize that, finally, we do not interpret 1 John. It interprets us.” We are changed, somehow, not only into God’s children, but hopefully into God’s character of love, forgiveness, mercy, and hope. 

            As the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Michael Curry, says, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” Love is affirming of each one of us with all our faults and failures turned into the redemptive hope God gives. Love is expansive calling all of humanity to this faith which transforms here and gives eternal hope to come. Love is courageous, for as the hymn says, “When nothing else could help, love lifted me.” And so, it has. And so, it shall. Amen. 

Worship: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/619802999115975

Spiritual Maturity Part 6

Spiritual Maturity 6: Dependable and Predictable—Deut. 31:1-8; John 13: 31-38

            We’ve long heard the phrases—sayings—which seem quite nice but are really what I call “Southern insults.” It was several years that I lived in Macon before I realized that when people said, “Bless your heart,” they were not exactly wishing me well. Another of those phrases is calling someone “flighty” or “flakey.” It’s a very polite and generous way of saying that someone cannot be trusted because they will leave you hanging. Up in Kentucky, we are a bit more blunt and say quite frankly, “You just can’t depend on them for anything.” T. B. Matson identifies, as a mark of spiritual maturity, “a life that is dependable and predictable.” This sense of stability is a clear sign that one is growing in God and is maturing in faith. Now, there is a pathway to becoming dependable and predictable. That road is twofold  through both commitment and respect. 

            First, we look at this idea of commitment. The definition includes such words as a pledge, an obligation, or a sense of dedication. In our words of faith, that would look more like a covenant, which is a promise or pledge sealed in the promise of God. For example, when we do communion, we talk about this “new covenant,” which is a promise of redemption from God sealed and secured by the sacrifice Christ made. Covenant is a powerful concept reserved for the real biggies of life: our belief in God, our marriages, the vow to ministry—all of these most sacred acts in life. 

            We have to be dependable and predictable in our lives because we make promises and covenants with others, and they in turn place their trust and in some cases their lives into our care and responsibility. In our Gospel for today, Jesus experiences a double whammy of betrayal and broken promises. We read that Judas has left the room. This is at the Last Supper, and Judas has left to betray Jesus to the soldiers for money. And yet, Jesus seems resigned to this. He is bothered more by Peter’s actions. 

            Peter becomes upset and emotional when he hears that Jesus will leave them, and correctly presumes it will be to his death. In his worked-up state, he says that he is ready to die for Jesus—all the way to the end he will go for Christ. But Jesus tells Peter that instead of this bold commitment, or even a covenant, Peter will instead deny and betray Jesus as well. Peter was possibly the closest to Jesus, and he would soon turn his own back on Jesus, betray his commitment, and leave Jesus utterly alone to be tried and killed. 

            How many times do we see and deal with broken promises? How many times do we see Christian leaders, friends, elders, people we look up to walk back their commitment to us? This lack of commitment, of covenant, with one another is a sign of weak and wishy-washy faith. I think of the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer who spoke out against Nazism in Germany. At any point he could have relented and lived out his life in silence, but instead he chose to continue speaking out even until his execution, committed to the cause of what was right. Commitments and covenants are not just a simple agreement. They are binding promises made both to God and with another person, and a person with mature faith will stick to his or her commitments. 

            Second, a life that is dependable and predictable is forged out of respect. Jesus says to the disciples in the Gospel, “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.” This is a love which is born out of respect. A rather harsh truth is that if you actually love and care about someone, you will not let them down. This is especially true if it’s a promise forged in faith. When God calls us, we are responsible and answerable to God and to one another as well. As messy as it can be, faith was meant to be lived both in solitude with God and in community with one another. 

            This respect and love make us predictable, so that we are models of trust and given this strength by God. Moses, we read, would never arrive at the promised land. He was dependable and led the people, but he was often unpredictable—wishy washy in making a commitment to God, angered and difficult at times. In one part of the journey, he is told to speak to a rock for water to come out of it, and instead he strikes the rock in a fury. All throughout the Bible, we read that God values self-control. It is even a fruit of the spirit to manage, with God’s help, to have gentleness and self-control. We have to be both dependable AND predictable. 

            So now we get to what I’m guessing is your big question. What do we do about people who lack this level of spiritual maturity—who are neither dependable nor predictable. First and foremost, you pray for them and love them. When Jesus says, “Love each other,” he means it as a two-way street. Show love by not wronging or abandoning others. But also, show love by forgiving wrongs. Forgiveness must also be accompanied by accountability and safe boundaries. Jesus taught love, but he also stopped Peter from offering more nice but empty words. Peter goes off shouting that he wants to follow Jesus now because he’s ready to die for Jesus. But Jesus knows Peter still lacks the maturity to actually follow through with this claim. Jesus gently rebuke’s Peter’s hollow offer and reminds Peter that he must show he is dependable and predictable, committed fully to Christ in this way. No one will ever grow in their faith if they do not receive gentle accountability to hold them firm. 

            Thelma Price told me an old story which comes to mind. This older man and his wife woke up one Sunday morning. It was cold and raining. The man rolled over and said he wasn’t going to church that day because it was bad outside and those people hate him anyway. His wife said, “Honey, you have to. You must go to church!” The older man asked his wife for three good reasons why he should go to church. She replied firmly, “Number one, I shouldn’t have to go without you. Number two, those people do love you and want to see you. And number three, YOU’RE THE PASTOR, AND IT’S YOUR JOB! Now, get up and make good on your commitment.” 

Being dependable and predictable is tough when all you want to do is crawl further under the covers and hide away. But the Christ who loved us walked boldly to the cross and loved us through a commitment of suffering and death. And he still loves us unto this very day. Just as God promised the Israelites to be with them, never to leave, never to abandon them, the same God promises to us, “I will never leave you, nor will I abandon you.” It’s a new covenant, given to us in body and blood, bread and cup, and we are called to respond to this covenant of hope and love simply by giving ourselves to the One who first loved us. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/307368224786166

Spiritual Maturity 5

Spiritual Maturity 5: Awareness of Christ and Holy Spirit 

Psalm 121; John 15: 1-11

            Very often we use the phrase “I’m here if you need me,” with friends and family. It’s a great phrase, and it’s designed to remind people that there’s a person and presence who cares for them and will provide support if needed. In years of pastoring, though, I’ve learned there are times to use that phrase and wait for the person to ask. But then, there are other times where you just know a person isn’t going to say they need you. They will suffer all the way to crisis mode before they would ever say, “I need you,” or “I need help.” 

            T. B. Matson addresses this as one of his principles of spiritual maturity. That principle is a consistent awareness of Christ’s presence and the Holy Spirit’s leadership in life. Do we, on a regular and continuous basis, feel the presence of Christ in our lives and let the Spirit lead us each step of our day? Jesus is not just a “call me if you need me” kind of Savior. His presence is real and powerful, and he is with us always. Jesus speaks to this in today’s gospel. He tells the disciples, “I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener…yes, I am the vine; you are the branches.” Christ gets to the very heart of this message quickly in verse 5: “Those who remain (or abide) in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.” 

            Those words should resonate with us, “For apart [from Christ, we] can do nothing.” Those words may sound a bit troubling on their own, but we must read them in light of another promise from Jesus. In Matthew 28:20, he says, “And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” In our times of helplessness, Jesus says to us that he is with us always, period, no matter what until or unto the very end of time. 

            That is a powerful bond. One scholar writes that the “allegory of the vine and the branches is the most complete expression of the mystical union between Christ and the Christian in this gospel.”  Do we take the time, in stillness, in prayer and meditation to make ourselves aware of Christ’s presence with us? Do we pray that he is revealed to us? Are we willing to embrace the fact that humanity and specifically each one of us is helpless without that life-giving presence of Jesus with us each and every day? Embrace that idea that Christ is like the vine, and we are branches—our lives, our growth, and our existence come from the strength and nourishment we get from that vine. 

            But there’s another point to this marker of spiritual maturity. Along with the continuous recognition of the presence of Christ, we must also have a consistent awareness of the Holy Spirit’s leadership in our lives. The Psalm tells us, “I look to the mountains—does my help come from there?” There’s a lot of places in life we look for help and guidance. We look to doctors, but their knowledge is a gift from God. We look to friends, but in truth, it’s Jesus who wrote the book on the bond of sacrificial love. We look to a spouse, but after asking six times just to take the trash out, I’m not sure how much help is there. We sometimes look to lawyers, and for $350 per hour, which is a discount, you might find a bit of help. 

            But in verse 2 of the Psalm we are told, “My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” In greater detail, the Psalm even tells us that, “The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, now and forever.” These both go hand in hand. With the presence of Christ consistently in your thoughts and lives, you will be more in tune with the leadership of the Holy Spirit. 

            The philosopher Seneca said, “All my life, I have been trying to climb out of the pit of my besetting sins—in vain. And I never can, and never will, unless a hand is let down to draw me up.” This is true for any pit we find ourselves in through our lives. We need help, and Jesus says to us, “I’m here when (not if) you need me.” The Gospel goes on to tell us that those who do not remain in Christ wither, struggle, and eventually die. 

            Now, I don’t believe that with every season of struggle in your faith, there’s a ticking John 15 timebomb where you will literally die. But there is a reality to the idea that our struggles and troubles seem magnified so much worse when we find ourselves apart from Christ and against the leadership of the Holy Spirit to the very point that our souls and life of faith may wither away. The truth of our lives is that we need Christ in all times and in all ways to save us not just from sin but from ourselves as well. Jesus says to his disciples, “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.” What, then, does this sense of abiding in Christ do for us? 

            Luther Bridgers was a minister in the Methodist Episcopal church in the early 1900s. After ministering in Belgium, the Czech Republic and Russia, he returned to Gainesville, Georgia. In 1910, he accepted an invitation to preach at a conference in Kentucky. He left his wife and three kids with his father-in-law and went to preach. After the two weeks of incredibly successful ministry and revival, he received a phone call with the worst news possible. A fire had killed his entire family. It’s impossible to imagine the grief he endured. However, not long thereafter, he found the faith to write the words to the hymn, “He Keeps Me Singing.” The fourth verse reads, “Though sometimes He leads through waters deep, trials fall across the way; though sometimes the path seems rough and steep, see His footprints all the way. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, sweetest name I know, fills my every longing, keeps me singing as I go.” 

            Why does Jesus say to remain in his love? The answer is at the end of our Gospel, “I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow!” The secret to our joy and our hope in this life and the next, is tied directly to Jesus. He is the life-giving, deeply rooted vine, and we are the branches who grow and bloom forth. And so, Jesus asks us to abide in him and he will remain with us always. As we grow and mature in faith, we should become more aware of Christ with us and the Holy Spirit leading us. For in every struggle and difficulty here on earth, we can rest assured that Jesus knows our pain and says to us, “I am here when you need me.” 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1108968366519572

Spiritual Maturity Part 4

Spiritual Maturity—Vitalities Over Formalities; Psalm1; I Peter 1:13-25

            In this week’s installment of our series on spiritual maturity, we look at the idea of our religion being measured by vitalities (or what gives it life) and not formalities (which is just repeating the same thing). Now, in some circles, that concept of “the ‘R’ word” is never used. We’re not a religion; we’re a faith. Oh, we’re not just a religion…we’re a movement. I wouldn’t call us a “religion,” we’re a way of being. Call it what you want, but when someone switches from Baptist to Methodist, no one asks, “Which way are you being today?” Instead, we are asked, “What is your religion?” As the number of faithful have declined, we have blamed it on this idea of “religion,” and we have used any other name for it ranging from the reasonable to the ridiculous. 

            Religion is not a bad thing. The literal definition of “religion” is “a system of faith and worship.” Religion is the word to describe the ways you use to worship your God. And yet, we constantly hear people say that they’re faith is “more than a religion.” I think we’ve misdirected our concern. The question should not be whether or not what you believe is a “religion” or something else. The question should be how you measure your belief. Is it just a mindless, spiritless set of formalities you follow, or is there something living and vital within the faith you practice here and in the world around us each week. The scripture in I Peter gives us three of the markers to measure the vitality of our faith: new hope, new holiness, and new life. 

In verse 13 we read that our minds should be prepared, and we read that our hope should be Christ’s power to save us. Our faith and the way we practice faith should give us some kind of new hope. There are a couple of ways to get something new. The first is when we come here seeking God from a place of nothing—no relationship, no love, no grace in our lives. It draws us back to that first time we found and felt God’s presence in a place of worship and people at worship. But many of us are a few years down the road in our faith and worship. That’s the point where danger can set in. Worship can be interesting but just a formality. Prayer can be well-worded, but just a formality. Bible Studies can be informative, but just a formality. We can come to a place where there is nothing living and vital about the way we practice faith. 

Each time we encounter worship, a sacred space, or the children of God we should find something living, transformative, which gives us new hope. This makes us like trees which bear new, good fruit each season, as Psalm 1 says. That’s a two-way street to receive new hope. First, our worship and faith must offer us something of God, but our hearts and minds must also be prepared to engage. I hear people say they’re getting nothing out of their church or their faith. I wonder if they are offered the opportunity to find growth in their relationship to God. But also, I wonder if they are willing to receive it. God cannot speak to closed ears. I Peter tells us to prepare our minds for action—to receive new, revitalized, and living hope. 

A vital practice of faith also offers us new holiness. This is another word we struggle with. Some struggle because holiness doesn’t give much wiggle room. Some other struggle because they take “holiness” to mean “holier than thou” and make no room for grace and love. Verse 16 doesn’t command us to be perfectly holy. That’s impossible in our lives. What God says through these words is “be like me.” In a relationship, there is a desire to grow closer to the other person. So it is with God. We should be drawn by our faith, our love, and the Spirit to be more like and closer to the way God calls us and the example Jesus gave us. 

A pastor was once asked how to know when a church got the idea of holiness wrong. The pastor replied, “Look for the rules. Where rules are more important than relationship, the church has turned away from being a living and vital place of faith.” Remember Psalm 1 tells us to meditate on God’s law, but over and over in New Testament, we are told Jesus came to “fulfill the law.” Fulfillment doesn’t mean ending one big old set of laws and giving us another. Jesus came to end the need for religious rules because we have a relationship with him. It’s a new holiness built not on religious rule, but on relationship with a loving redeemer and savior. 

And finally, a vital and living faith has new life. I Peter 1: 23 says, “Your new life will last forever because it comes from the eternal, living word of God. But 1 Peter 1: 14 also warns us not to slip back into old ways of living. Some faiths and churches tend to focus in on this idea of new life as only getting into heaven. And in fact, we believe in a faith that promises us an eternal reward of heaven, but there is still something transformative which happens to us here on earth. 

If the only point of our belief was to pop through the pearly gate, we wouldn’t have needed the example Jesus gave us. There’s two main things Jesus did here on earth: the redemptive work of the cross and resurrection, but also the example of a Godly or Christian life through years of ministry. Surely there is something to be done in this life as we live here 50, 60, 80, 90 or more years. New life begins immediately, with a relationship and a call to live Christ’s example of hope, holiness, and forgiving grace on earth. Jesus healed. Jesus loved (even the most unlovable). Jesus fed and taught. Jesus sought to make a difference in his ministry, and it brought life and vitality to a people whose faith which had become just a bunch of formal practices. 

So, as we live and practice our faith here on earth, we must be careful that our worship and our actions bring life and vitality to our faith and the world around us. When we sing, pray, proclaim the Good News, and respond to it, we must do so with the power and energy that come from a relationship with Christ compeling us to be grace in this world. May we then have new or renewed hope each and every morning. May we practice holiness by becoming less worldly and rule oriented, and instead focusing on a relationship that pushes us to be Christlike. And may we proclaim the Good News of new life which rises above suffering on earth and calls for love, justice, and a people of God focused wholly and completely on God instead of the evils around us. Prepare your hearts and minds, and be renewed in your hope, relationship, and life of faith. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/297284502374083

Spiritual Maturity, Part 3

Spiritual Maturity 3: Faith Based on Essentials, Not Non-Essentials

Ecclesiastes 7: 19-20, 23-25; I Corinthians 1: 10-17

            Years ago, I worked for the local newspaper, and I did a series of human-interest stories highlighting local churches in the community. I had hoped to find a common theme of churches working for the good of the community, caring about ministry, and sharing God’s Good News. Well, I found a common theme alright. That theme was they all complained about each other. 

            One local church still harbored anger that they were reviled by the church up the street for hosting dances. (Retired Baptists, you can guess which denomination thought dancing was a sin). Mind you, this occurred almost 50 years ago. Another church said that they believed in helping the community, but they refused to work with other churches in that endeavor. Another church said they were the only true church, and all others were “apostates.” And yet another church said they didn’t just serve Communion willy-nilly like some churches (read here the Christian churches). Instead, they were far more careful who got Communion and when. I had never seen so many people who had basically the same doctrine, believed in the same God, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, yet still could not get along in any way, shape, form, or fashion. 

            Paul, I would argue, calls such divisiveness a sin. As the Sunday School class is learning in Acts, Paul was of a very singular mind—that the basic message of grace in Christ should never be compromised, but on all the non-essential things, Paul did compromise. He used Greek pronunciations of names instead of Jewish pronunciations when he was in Greek territory. He argued against the Jewish practice of circumcision for Gentiles, but he insisted Timothy do so to make him acceptable in Jewish communities. Paul believed that sharing this message of Christ’s redeeming love and grace was the singular, sole, and undivided primary focus of the Christian community and all other things paled in comparison.  

            Here, he lays out the case quite clearly. After calling upon them to be in harmony, he says in verse 10, “Let there be no divisions in the church. Rather, be of one mind, united in thought and purpose.” He goes on to explain that they are not followers of individual apostles, but of Christ, and not Christ the teacher, but Christ the Savior and Lord, one God, now and forever. As T.B. Matson says to us, our faith must be based on the essentials, not on the non-essentials. 

            Few churches fight over the essentials: Jesus is the Savior, the Son of God. God created us and called us to be God’s very own. God gives us the Holy Spirit to live within us and guide us. Through that spiritual guidance, we are also called to follow Jesus’s example in our daily life. Very few fights in the Christian world start over these essentials of faith. But my-oh-my how our churches have fought and killed and found themselves torn asunder over all the non-essential things of our faith. And rarely does a church fight begin with words of scripture. They begin with the fearful words, “Well, I think…” 

            It’s a very bleak picture. A divisive church provides no useful witness to the world. A divisive church cannot minister properly either to members or the community. A divisive church can never grow personally or as the body of Christ. A divisive church will never, ever save souls from sin or people from suffering, and Paul meets this mindset with fury—whether it’s Corinth, Galatia, or even his own relationship with the Mother Church in Jerusalem. It is, in fact, in Galatians 3:28 where Paul writes, “There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Now, be sure, this does not mean a legitimate theological wrong—this is more plain old church fighting and contentiousness that Paul is calling out. 

            A spiritually mature Christian should begin to realize that drama and struggles, especially in a place of faith, are tiring and unproductive. There’s an old saying attributed to St. Augustine, “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity.” This speaks to the power of relationship over rightness, strength and mission over divisiveness, and a church which seeks Christ’s calling over all else. The bulletin quote from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., also speaks to this, ““Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.” In essence, God has called us to be one body which unites people over this common theme of faith in Christ, transformation by God’s love, and led by the Spirit into God’s mission and ministry. That’s not and can never truly be a singular calling. It takes a whole church. 

            I’ll never forget a conversation at a small non-denominational church I played for. One of the members, who I was friends with, was talking to me about an upcoming community project, and he wasn’t sure about it. I asked what his issue was. He replied, “Well, it’s the fact that we’re working with Presbyterians. And, well, you know how Presbyterians are.” I did not, in fact, know what he meant at all. So, I looked at him and said, “John, it’s a food pantry, not a conversion experience. You are perfectly safe from being Presbyterian-ed.” He thought for a moment and shook his head saying, “You know, you’re right. I’ll bring my cans of green beans next week.” 

            We don’t have to every last one of us agree on every single bit of doctrine to share the urgency of souls who need the grace of God, hungry people in need of food, lonely people in need of care and love, lost and broken people in need of a church family with wide open arms. The measure of our faith is not avoiding all disagreement. The measure of our faith is whether we lived each and every day, wholeheartedly, fully surrendered to the work and the will of the God who loves us. In essentials, may we be united. In non-essentials may we be free. In all things here on earth may we live in charitable love. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1417315352057731