Theirs Is The Kingdom

Sunday, July 27, 2003
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
(2 Timothy 2:22), Matthew 5:1-10

5:1 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 "Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Righteousness” is an unsettling word.

More often than not, it comes with the word “self” in front of it and is, of course, a negative term. Webster’s defines self-righteousness as being righteous or moral in one’s own opinion. We could dwell on self-righteousness easily for the next 20 minutes and leave here feeling all the better for it. Being self-righteous is certainly not a desirable character trait, and we’re usually much more likely and able to identify it in others as opposed to ourselves. But it is that way with any given sin.

What I’d like to concentrate on this morning is what it means to BE righteous, and perhaps touch on what we can do to hunger and thirst for righteousness.

What is the big deal about righteousness, anyway? Why fret over it? Why pursue it at all?

If we are to be a people called of God and called by God’s name, as Dan mentioned last Sunday night, then we need to understand who God is.

God is, first and foremost, Holy. That is a theological term. It is also an ethical term, but it was a theological term first. Holiness is the distinctive thing about God. It is that which, more than all other things, makes God God. God is Other. God is God and not human.

A Jewish Rabbi was asked what the essence of Judaism was, and after a moment’s thought, he replied, “Ethical monotheism. God is not only one; he is also ethical. He is just and requires justice of those who believe in him.”

Men, women, and things are not holy within themselves. They become holy because they are dedicated to God. The people of Israel were holy, not because of any virtue, goodness, or gift within them, but because God had chosen them to be his people.

Yet the term holy was ethicized. That this could happen tells a lot about Judaism and Christianity. It indicates the heavy stress both religions put on morality, and how the theological and ethical are bound together. The theological and the ethical belong together the way the back and palm of my hand are bound together.

When we say that God is holy in an ethical sense, we say that God is just and righteous.

God is Just. When we say that God is just, we mean that he is faithful, trustworthy, and responsible. God wants life ordered with equity and fairness. God becomes angry when the strong take advantage of the weak and the rich exploit the poor.

God is righteous. Although God’s righteousness and justice mean essentially the same thing, God is spoken of as being righteous much more frequently than as being just (see Ps 7:9; Jer 9:24). The reason is likely that righteousness expresses relationship better than justice does.

The righteous person God calls each of us to be is a two-directional person who is right with God and right with his neighbor. Therefore, justice or righteousness is relational in nature.

The relationship through which we, as a fellowship of believers, are called to pursue righteousness, to BE righteous, is that relationship we have with God through Jesus Christ. I’m not talking of salvation as such here, though that is an integral part OF the relationship we have with Christ. I’m talking of what it means to live out that salvation, to live out the righteousness that we are granted by faith in Christ.

Rosa Parks was asked years after the event, why she sat down in the front of the bus that fateful day. Her answer was not “I wanted to address the issue of racial injustice in the United States”, nor was it “I wanted to start the civil rights movement” it was, “I was tired”. One gets the sense from her answer that she wasn’t just talking about her feet, but about her heart and her soul as well.

Being righteous means being so in tune with the Spirit of God that we are able to discern what grieves him, and likewise are grieved over the same injustice. The righteous person is in right relations with his or her brother or sister BECAUSE OF a right relationship with God. Such a person is socially oriented. Humans are social beings. We seek the company of others like us. Generally speaking, we do not live in solitude. We require SOME degree of interaction with our fellow human beings. God’s call to be in relationship with him is also a call to be in community. In doing that, we are called to preserve the place and wholeness of the community, meeting the demands of communal living.

The challenge to us is immunity.

If you live with something long enough, you begin to take it for granted. You forget that it is there, you consider it a part of everyday life. Women who have been in abusive relationships, when asked why they didn’t leave, often reply “I didn’t know it could be any different.” We become immunized to the wrong that is in the world. Partly, that is one way we protect ourselves. We philosophically look over the day’s news and end up saying “and that’s the way it is”, when God has called us to acknowledge that that may be the way it IS, but that’s not the way it needs to stay.

In Luke 4:18 we find Jesus announcing his ministry at the synagogue:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free,”

We cannot, must not ignore the prophetic element in God’s call to follow Christ.
We are in the position to recognize an injustice and call a spade a spade, regardless of who it is perpetuating the injustice.

One of my favorite television dramas is ‘The West Wing’. In one episode last year, a new member of the staff finds himself facing the president for the first time in a hasty and unbeknownst to him, predetermined meeting. The President rattles off some supposed policy statement, and the man, petrified, starts to agree and walk away, but hesitates, and still shaky, stands his ground and with humility, respect, but ultimately steely resolve, speaks up against what the President has just said. The characters stare at each other for a moment, and the President breaks the standoff by saying, “speak truth to power, good job”.

How often do we find ourselves in a similar position, maybe not in the white house, or a Hollywood sound stage, or for that matter in the line at the grocery store, but fail to say anything?

Last Tuesday I drove to the history land nursery site on Newland Rd, and got there a little earlier than usual. Jesus, the foreman, who has made it to the last two gatherings we’ve had, was driving a small tractor across the drive as I arrived. He motioned me to come over to him and I did, and I sat down next to him. We rode over to a gas tank so he could fill up the tank of the tractor, and as it was filling, he asked if he could share something with me, a bit of constructive criticism. He told me that he’d heard from some of the men who are there that I seemed too timid, too hesitant in my devotionals, and that he didn’t know if that was due to uncertainty with the language, or the subject matter, or what, but that it would be better received if I were a little more forceful, more self-assured in my delivery.

It brought to mind all those instances in Acts where we read of Paul or the other apostles speaking boldly of the Gospel of Christ. So I am working on my delivery at the devotionals, convicted by the words of a fellow pilgrim.

I mentioned at the beginning of the message that we need to understand who God is. We’ve been discussing righteousness throughout; did you know that the word righteousness is used 223 times in the Bible? Even though righteous is a relational term; it is not a term that would draw people close TO God on first reading.

We are agreed that the Bible is God’s word, but there are few attempts to define God in the Bible. It is almost as if the Bible as a whole is trying to give us a picture of who God is, and succeeds in presenting Jesus to us, but hardly ever attempts to explicitly put it down in words.

In the New Testament, there are 3 attempts. Three simple words each. John 4:24: God is Spirit. 1 John 1:5: God is Light. And 1 John 4:16: God is Love.

What is it that compels us to attempt righteousness? What is it that calls us out of our sin and into that right relationship with God? What else but his love? And that love best expressed in the face and person of Jesus.

If you are here today burdened by your sense of unrighteousness, perhaps you are feeling that call of a loving God who is telling you “it is not your righteousness that I require, but your obedience in following me through my son Jesus.” We invite you to take on HIS righteousness, and to follow him as Lord of your life.

If you are here and have already claimed that righteousness in following Christ, your invitation is to turn that righteousness to Justice. Live out that right relationship not only with God, but with your fellow man. If you would like to do that with this body of believers, we would welcome you.

If you are here and feel like you have been immunized to injustice, that you’ve developed a jaded eye to the world and how it is, your challenge is to shed that scales and see the world as God sees it, a broken, hurting, place that even now groans for the coming Kingdom of God, and to join in the inbreaking of that kingdom.

Lets pray.

By Water and the Spirit

Sunday, July 20th, 2003
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton, VA
Matthew 3:11-17, Romans 6:4

I have a question for you:

What does God do when someone is baptized?

Baptism is an “ordinance”. In Baptist doctrine, that means it is a command given by our Lord, which we follow out of simple obedience to the Great Commission we find in Matthew 28:19 to “go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” It is one of two, the other being the ordinance of the Lord’s Supper, or Communion, which we celebrated last Sunday. As things have worked out, we will be celebrating the second ordinance this afternoon at the Coates’.
In our passage, we find Jesus asking for Baptism.

Why would Jesus of all people ask for Baptism?

Why would he even feel it necessary to follow where John had led hundreds if not thousands of others before him to be baptized for repentance from sin? If anyone didn’t need this, it was Jesus. If anyone KNEW he didn’t need this for the same reason as all the others who were going through it, it was Jesus.
John was aware of that. He was aware of his own sin, when he looked at Jesus and says, "I need to be baptized by you, and you come to me?”

In his following statement, Jesus redefined the purpose of the act of baptism.

"Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness."

What Jesus is saying, and what convinced John to go ahead and baptize him, is that this is the next step. This is what needs to happen now. The event marks the beginning of Christ’s public ministry. In a sense, it marks Christ’s commissioning to service. In the passage, we also find the presence of the trinity – the Body of Christ, the words of the Father, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

If we turn to Paul’s letter to the church at Rome, chapter 6, verse 4 and following, we find the model for baptism that has been dominant in the church since the 4th century:

4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. 5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. 7 For whoever has died is freed from sin. 8 But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.

Paul goes on to describe baptism as our symbolic death to the old life, to sin, and rebirth to new life in Christ, free from sin. It still carries with it an element of John’s baptism, in that it represents the cleansing from sin, which comes with repentance, but it also speaks of what we are alive TO: ‘So we too might walk in newness of life”

What we find in both passages is very simply the presence of God. What George Beasley Murray calls a ‘rendezvous of grace’ – God has agreed to meet us in Baptism. In that we are called to unity with Christ, through his death, burial and resurrection, suggests that God has said, “When you do this, I will be there”.

Today we will be observing two points in the lives of members of our community of faith where this is happening.
In baptizing Hannah, we are observing only the second public step in her lifelong pilgrimage to follow Christ. The newness of life she is beginning to experience spiritually is not that far removed from her own newness in this world.

In baptizing Soozin, we are reminded more of Christ’s baptism. When Jesus spoke of the baptism he was requesting to be performed as a way to ‘fulfill all righteousness’, that term is a direct reference to the will of God. It is ‘the next step’ which follows a lifetime of steps that have already shown a faithful sensitivity and obedience to that will – and to the leading of the Holy Spirit in her life. When she came up here a few weeks ago to join, ask for baptism, and in rededication of her life, it was a humbling moment for me. To see a life already dedicated be Re-dedicated is a challenge to us all to find new ways by which we can follow Christ.
In a couple of days, we will observe a third instance of this newness of life.

Most of you know that Fox Schools passed away this past Friday. On Tuesday, Beulah Baptist Church and Jerusalem Baptist Church, both families of faith to which he belonged while with us, will celebrate his passing into the new life, which awaits all of those who have given their lives to Christ.

This is what it comes down to:

John said “but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; … He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

In joining Christ in his death, burial and resurrection, we welcome into our lives the Holy Spirit, who brings to us not only life, but who also works in us to purify and refine us – makes us into who God intended us to be. It is an unfinished task while we are on earth. The Glory of which we are a part is not made fully evident until we reach up from that last resting place, grasp the hand of him who led us and preceded us there, and are lifted up into eternal newness of life.

If you are here today and have not yet followed Christ, your invitation is to be buried to sin and death, and to be reborn in newness of a life of commitment and obedience to Christ and his Lordship.

If you are here and have already dedicated your life to Christ and followed him in baptism, your invitation is to grasp again that sense of the newness of Christ in you. If you are looking for a church home, a place of service, and people with whom you can work alongside for the Kingdom, we would welcome you.

If you are here and have long since followed Christ in baptism, and ARE a part of this family of faith, your invitation is to be an encourager to those who come after you, to be an example and to live out Christ in such a way that you are transparent and HE is Apparent, to anyone with whom you come in contact.

Let’s pray.

Just a Gift

Sunday, July 13th, 2003
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton, VA
Mark 14:17-31

Steve accepted the gift of a brass and copper rooster I'd brought him with grace and an introspective, quiet air. Holding the small wall hanging, he asked, “Did you know the rooster is a traditional representation of Peter? It was used by the early church as a reminder to all of us that, at some point in our lives, we are guilty of betraying Christ.”

My first reaction was “Gee, Steve, it's just a PRESENT!” but I was taken aback by the comment, struck by it's truth, and surprised at the simplicity and directness of the symbolism. It had turned a passing act in a friendship into a searing moment in memory, reminding me of just how likely I was to betray our Lord.

In the passage, Jesus has just uttered a conversation stopper. He has gathered his disciples in the upper room, and is sharing the Passover meal with them. He knows it is probably his last night to be with them, and he knows, with more clarity and certainty than anyone else in the room, what the next hours will mean to him and to them.

It is at the beginning of the meal, he shocks them all by telling them that one of those who is sitting around the table with him, who is dipping his bread into the same bowl with him, will betray him. That act, the dipping into the same bowl, would not be something unusual. In Biblical, as well as modern-day Palestine, it is part of the tradition that everyone share from the same, central bowl at the table. The identification of the betrayer as someone who is dipping his bread into “the same bowl” was as much an indictment of all as of one of those who were gathered that evening. Their reactions are predictable. After all, they’ve been following him around for the last 3 years, watching him heal, preach, and teach. Each in turn responds, “Surely, not I?” There seems to be an assumption on their part that things would continue the way they had been going all along.

We do that as well, don’t we? We get into the automated mode, occupying ourselves with the regular, predictable, expected, and less-obtrusive aspects of living out our Christian Walk … we have our regularly scheduled meetings, our appointments, our gatherings, with the same people, reviewing the same issues, arriving fort the most part, to the same conclusions, and find ourselves slipping into autopilot. It is when we are confronted with the unexpected that we are made aware of our hidden weakness.

It really doesn't take any effort at all, does it? We’ve all had those moments, the ones we’d rather forget. The harsh word to an innocent child, the disengagement from someone who obviously, desperately, needs us to become Christ to them, to reach out with a helping, caring hand, and feed, or clothe, or just listen to them, or an action, taken in direct opposition to what Paul called “that which I want to do”, that tears at the very essence of Christ in us, and betrays him to a world that may only have that single, fleeting chance to see him through us. We’ve all had those times when we knew, as soon as the moment was passed, that we’d been Peter, and we can almost hear the echo of the cock’s crow dying in our ears.

It is utter darkness, to be confronted with one's weakest self.

But the story doesn’t end with Jesus telling them that one of them will betray him. Neither, for that matter, does the meal.

In the Gospel of Mark, it is AFTER this darkest moment, AFTER Christ has acknowledged the betrayer in their midst, and despite that, that he picks up the loaf of bread, blesses it, breaks it, and passes it to his disciples, "Take; this is my body" and follows that with the cup, saying "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many”. Mark seems to be pointing out the proactive nature of God’s grace. Before Peter has denied him, Jesus offers him the wine and the bread. Christ’s invitation precedes our sin. He knows our weaknesses, he understands that we will fail, yet he still extends the invitation to remain with him at the table, to join him and to eat of the bread, drink from the cup, to share in the coming of his Kingdom. In Luke’s account of the last supper (22:32), We find Jesus telling Peter that after he has turned back, he will go on to strengthen his brother’s faith with his own. Jesus not only knew that Peter would deny him, but that he would also become the pilar of the early church that we read of today.

This week in Vacation Bible School, the theme has been Jesus, our greatest treasure. In the last session before the closing on Friday, the question was posed: if Jesus is OUR greatest treasure, what treasure can we bring Jesus?

The answer, of course, is the treasure of our lives; our hearts, minds, and souls.

We have an opportunity to respond in kind.

Peter’s vehement statement to Jesus that “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you” proved to be hollow in the short term, but just look at what Peter did after he turned back. It was through the power of the resurrection that Peter’s denial and Christ’s forgiveness and acceptance of him on the shore of the sea of Galilee that Peter became the anointed missionary and evangelist, who brought thousands to join the church that we read of in Acts. Tradition has it that Peter ultimately DID die for Christ.

The disciples did not know on Thursday night that Sunday was coming. We here have the unspeakable grace of knowing what happened. We stand on this side of the resurrection, and can claim all the joy that comes from that.

The Jewish understanding of remembrance is different from the Greek, and western understanding. Remembrance in western tradition is a more superficial event. It is strictly recalling a memory, an intellectual exercise. In Jewish tradition, the event is in a sense, relived. Christ is calling us to relive the moment. We’ve been revealed as capable of betraying him, and yet we are still welcomed at the table, because ultimately, Christ knows our best selves as well as our worst. Christ calls us to communion with him and to remember that, in spite of what we know we are capable of, his grace, his sacrifice, his love, has covered it all.

That copper and brass wall hanging was just a gift, but with a few words, the gift had been transformed into a treasure, perhaps for the recipient, but most certainly for me.

It is in those few words that this ordinance becomes a treasure. We gather to proclaim Christ’s sacrifice. His broken body, his shed blood. There is little to rejoice in for that. Jesus’ pain and suffering should have been our own. Yet he willingly took it on himself, and bore our punishment, and offers to us his eternal life. We are reliving that evening. We’ve been revealed, unmasked, and at the same time invited. We are still guests at the table, and it is truly cause for joy to come to the table and accept the invitation to the feast. There is still a solemnity to it in that, if we accept the invitation, we are invited to follow Christ – to carry his yoke. To suffer his passion, his COMpassion, to live as he lived, to love as he loved, and to give as he gave – fully and completely – our lives to God.