Sunday, March 28, 2004

Organization or Organism?

Sunday, March 28th, 2004
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
1 Corinthians 12:4-14

4 Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; 5 and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; 6 and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. 7 To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8 To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, 9 to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10 to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11 All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.
12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. 14 Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many.


“Whoever dies with the most toys, wins!”

The epitaph is in jest. But as with most jokes, there is at its core, a nugget … a statement that contains a kernel of truth, or supposed truth, that makes the whole thing funny to begin with.

Can you tell me in one word what best defines success in American popular culture?

Is it “Richer”? That seems to be the most common denominator when it comes to the measure of how successful someone or something is – how much money do you (or did it) make? How big is your budget? What was your profit margin? Though that one IS prevalent in American popular culture, we can honestly say that wealth is not a uniquely American litmus test for success. Throughout the ages, wealth has been a law unto itself, giving those who have it the ability to do rather just as they pleased.

Is it “Bigger”? For a while, it seemed as though American Popular Culture took notice of the limited nature of vast natural resources the world has and decided to start building cars, for example, that would stretch, if not minimize the use of those resources. But in recent years, the culture has reared its ugly head and made it worthwhile for the auto industry to produce the Excursion and the Hummer successfully. Bigger might be the most blatant example of disregard for the Edenic entreaty to be good stewards of the world and all that is in it.

Is it “Stronger”? We are bombarded with it every week on television. ‘Fear Factor’, ‘Survivor’, and now we also have ‘Family Fear Factor’ … I’m really not sure how to say how I feel about these shows. To be honest, I’ve only watched a couple of episodes of ‘Survivor’, and that was in it’s first or second season … and have never watched a full episode of ‘Fear Factor’ … the whole concept that this is ‘reality television’ is preposterous to me. I’m sorry if you enjoy watching them, if you take them as purely escapist entertainment, then perhaps it isn’t so bad. But if that is reality, then I’m the majority stockholder of General Electric.

I’m faced with a dilemma. In the position I held at what was then Bell Atlantic, the structure of the company was very well defined, and there was an obvious hierarchy built into the corporate structure. I knew who my supervisor was, and who his or her supervisor was in turn, and who was above them and so on and so forth until I got to the chairman and CEO of the company, who made ‘the big decisions’ and made more money in a month than I will probably make in my entire life. Though I had some input in some minor things, there was a clear sense of being a part of a huge, generally faceless structure, a cog in a wheel in a machine, a tiny part of a massive company that stretched from Maine to Virginia at the time and which has since grown to be, if I’m not mistaken, the largest telecommunications company in the country. What we as 20th and 21st century citizens of the United States have come to understand as success has been … imprinted on us by the culture we live in.

There are those who would say that the United States is a Christian Nation, or if not an outright Christian nation, at least a nation that was founded on Christian Principles. I would disagree with the first notion and question somewhat the second notion.

You need to know that this is me coming off an overnight retreat in a monastery in Newport News. We may all look back on today’s message in a couple of months (hopefully not in 15 minutes) and say ‘what was I THINKING??’ But bear with me. There are some points that I’d like to go over which I’d like to unpack a little more.

The reason I would disagree with the two earlier statements is this: while we as a country have historically been able to grow faith among our people, and have had the freedom to do so, we have so intertwined that faith with the culture, that in the melding of the two, our faith culture, that culture that we should find most clearly within these walls, and which should be evidenced outside these walls, what we could call the Kingdom Culture, is not that radically different from what we find in the prevailing culture of our society. It might be slightly countercultural, but maybe not what Jesus had in mind … and maybe not what Paul had in mind either in the passage we just read. If our Kingdom culture were to be as dramatically and radically different from the prevailing culture as Jesus said it should be – and in this I mean the way he was speaking to his followers, and the crowds of people that seemingly followed him everywhere, as well as the religious leaders of the day, then the values we present to the outside world – that is, the world outside our national borders, not just the world outside this building – should be so easily distinguished from those of the NATION as a whole, that we would be considered almost a nation within a nation.

My dilemma is this: if Paul speaks of the Church as the body of Christ, as he does in this passage, how do we reconcile that to the reality that the structural model we find most often in our churches here in the States? Granted, Jerusalem Baptist Church isn’t a large church by most standards, but to the degree that it is, we find ourselves settling into functional structures found most often in the business world of the prevailing culture. Committees, departments, divisions. I’m not criticizing committees and departments as such. The structures we have in place have allowed for Jerusalem to be, to exist, to grow, and to continue to spread the good news of Jesus Christ here and across the world for over a hundred and fifty years. But there is an inherent hierarchical structure that we must be wary of. There is a … I’m not sure how else to describe other than a flow of authority that comes into play that is somehow based on our position OUTSIDE the church, and it carries into the church.

In the best of all circumstances, that is because the person carrying the authority has wielded it well in one arena and can be trusted to wield it well in the kingdom culture.

But there is a danger to that. Jesus said ‘the last shall be first and the first shall be last … whoever wants to be the greatest among you must be the servant of all’, and carried that out – in humbling himself, in the words of the Philippian hymn – ‘and became obedient to the point of death – even death on the cross,’ a death that we are approaching daily as we move through the season of Lent.

The danger is that we will rely on skills ONLY rather than gifts, on the human person rather than the maker and giver and sustainer of life. It can sometimes be a fuzzy line. To distinguish where God is leading and where we would naturally want to go, since it seems so much the right thing to do.

Paul’s letter to Philemon is an entreaty to a slave holder to take back a runaway slave, Onesimus, as a brother in Christ. The implied request is to free him from his status as a slave, and work alongside him for the Kingdom. Philemon, being the slaveholder, had every right to do as he wanted to with Onesimus. The prevailing culture would have probably even allowed Philemon to put Onesimus to death. It would have been the right thing to do.

My question to you this morning is this: in which direction is the flow of authority going? Is it coming IN these doors from outside, or is it going OUT the doors from in here?

In the same vein, where is the authority in your LIFE coming from? Do you bring it in with you through the doors, or do you take it OUT with you? Let me put it another way: are you in your life being led by what happens inside or outside this building? Are the principles that govern your life Kingdom principles or prevailing culture principles?

When presented with a decision, do you ask yourself “what would Jesus do” or “what would Donald Trump do?” It’s a fairly stark contrast, and I would submit to you that the contrast is one that has not changed drastically, as much as we’d like to think it has, in the two thousand years since we had the opportunity to SEE “what Jesus would do.”

The church, the body of Christ, will always stand in opposition, in contrast to the prevailing culture.

We can be thankful that we live in a culture that engages kingdom values, and makes it sometimes easier to PRACTICE kingdom values, but let us never lose sight that in the end, the motivation for the world and the motivation for the kingdom are radically opposed to each other.

Let’s pray. (Prayer)

Invitation:

Your invitation today is to stand in that opposition, to be that contrast …

Your invitation is to live out Kingdom values in such a way as to create discord in your own life – we don’t WANT that, granted, but just as Christ did, we are called to take up OUR crosses and follow him.

(Hymn)
(Benediction)

Sunday, March 21, 2004

Steadfast, Immovable, Always Excelling

Sunday, March 21st, 2004
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
I Corinthians 15:50-58

50 What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51 Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.53 For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54 When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: "Death has been swallowed up in victory." 55 "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" 56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 58 Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

“If you’re shipping international, you have to call FedEx.”

It’s a commercial I’ve only seen once, but it did its job: it stuck in my head. If you’ve not seen it, the basic premise is this: you have one great idea in your life, and you spend the REST of your life reliving that single event.

The opening scene is some sort of business meeting, where the discussion topic is how to transport ‘the product’ internationally. The camera is set on a medium close up of the main character in the commercial, a somewhat geeky, skinny man with reddish hair, who finds it in himself to speak up and say the tag line: ‘if you’re shipping international, you HAVE to call FedEx.’ There’s a pause as the comment sinks in, and the room doesn’t exactly explode in pandemonium, but the sense is “of COURSE, that’s the answer we’ve been looking for all along!”

The funny part of the commercial is what follows. There are 3 or 4 ‘clips’ from the life of this man as the years progress, and in each one he’s recounting the initial event. In one scene, he’s sitting at a bar with some other men – it’s unclear if they are friends or just happen to be ‘within range’. In the next scene, he’s riding in a golf cart, and telling the man who is driving the cart about the same meeting. The last scene is at the man’s funeral, and the man who is giving the eulogy is saying “and how can we forget the time that he said …’

Let’s pull out a couple of words from the text: ALWAYS EXCELLING.

Always. It denotes a continuing action. The Greek is perisseuvonte" (Perisseúontes). It can otherwise be translated this way: Give Yourselves Fully (to the work of the Lord).

These last two weeks have been full ones. There’ve been conferences to attend both of the last two weekends. Youth functions, an Encuentro, there have been visits to make and errands to run. There’ve been books to read and papers to write, meetings to attend, and conversations to have. And there’s been a family to take care of. They have both been unusually heavy in terms of activities related to the Hispanic work. I had to make several trips to the Oyster and bait plant in White Stone and to the Free Health Clinic in Kilmarnock.

There’s a nighttime routine we go through with the kids at bedtime. Leslie or I will go into their bedrooms and help them into bed, or tuck them in. The routine is this: sometimes earlier in the process, sometimes later, when we first broach the subject of going to sleep, Judson will usually be the first to ask “can you sleep with me?” it used to stop at that, but lately it has become “can you sleep with me and can you sleep with me first?” “Sleep with me” in this context means you turn on the lullaby CD, and lay down on top of the covers for one, two or more songs, depending on what negotiation has taken place or what time it is or if you fall asleep within the first few measures of the song. On Hannah’s bed it’s easier, because there’s no bunk bed to crouch under. With Judson sleeping on the bottom bed of a bunk bed, it’s a little harder. There’s a crouching and turning and bending that has to happen in kind of a horizontal windmill move, where you lean forward, then bring your legs up onto the bed, then swing the upper part of the body back over to the left before settling onto the edge of the mattress.

This past Monday or Tuesday night, Judson had asked me to sleep with him. I don’t always. If I say ‘not tonight’ both Hannah and Judson just say ‘OK’ and go on, only rarely reiterating the request. This time I agreed. It had been, for some reason, a hard day between me and Judson. One of those days when I felt like I’d been anything BUT a good daddy. I agreed partly because of that and because it is SLOWLY starting to sink into my thick skull that in those situations, bedtime snuggles and quiet conversations can be a source of reconciliation and grace. That night, Judson was quiet for a little while (Hannah is usually the one to ask questions or talk about her day), and then he took my hand and held it up and looked at it. I remember doing the same thing with my father’s hands as a boy. At first I thought he was just going to look at it up close for a minute or two and then put it down. He didn’t. He took his right hand and closed it in a loose fist and turned it to where my hand was cupping his, and then he lowered both to his chest. After a pause, he brought up his left hand and moved it in next to his right hand, so that both his hands were nested in mine. He turned his face to me, gave me a quick smile, and then settled in and closed his eyes to go to sleep. A few minutes later, the song ended. I stayed a little longer, then he turned and I said “Goodnight, I love you”, gave him a kiss, got up and walked out of the room. Getting up is always a lot easier for me than getting down, I just drop off the side of the bed, into a crouch and stand up. That night, I wouldn’t have minded being the one to fall asleep first.

Paul, in the text, is defending the belief in the resurrection. If you’re keeping track, I touched on this same section of Corinthians back in September, right before Isabel paid us a visit. The first 7 verses of our passage this morning are the conclusion of his argument.

“Flesh and Blood versus the Kingdom, perishable versus imperishable, mystery … we will be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet … the perishable body must put on imperishability, the mortal body must put on immortality … Where O death is your victory? Where is your sting?”

It is a hymn. Paul is coming to the point, and his language takes on an eloquence that is perfectly matched to the subject at hand. After all this talk of mystery, of the perishable and imperishable, of the victory we have over sin and death in Christ, he comes out with the application: "Now, my brothers and sisters, in the light of these sublime truths, be steadfast in doing the Lord's work, knowing that he will reward you at his coming."
The point is this: doing the Lord’s work is not something you come up with once, and then recount for the rest of your life. Doing the Lord’s work is a lifetime commitment. It is a lifetime of learning, of figuring out just exactly what it means to be a follower of Christ.

Maria Teresa Palmer, a friend from Southern Seminary who is now pastor of a small Hispanic church in Raleigh NC, led a conference yesterday morning on the role of the pastor in not only Hispanic congregations, but congregations in general. A point she made almost in passing was that we, as followers of Christ, are to be about the business of reconciliation. If “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to God’s self,” then what better way to demonstrate … to flesh out … to LIVE out the reality of Christ in our lives than to be agents of reconciliation?

What does that mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

It means this: it means taking on a task that is more often than not difficult at best, and nearly impossible, at worst, at least in human terms. Being about reconciliation means looking life square in the face, understanding that we live in a broken world that is characterized by broken relationships, broken spirits, broken hearts, broken dreams, broken EVERYTHING, and STILL reaching out, across the breaks, across the hurtful and hateful words that have spilled out of our mouths or into our ears and cannot be recalled or blocked out, across the bruises that we have inflicted or sustained, reaching out to each other in forgiveness and in love and embracing each other as brothers and sisters, children of God, in desperate need of healing, of a re-connection with God, which we must find in how we care for and about each other.

It means picking up stakes and moving thousands of miles away, to work on providing aid and clean water to a people devastated by years of tyranny, and a brutal war – waged both against them and for them. It might even mean losing your life in the process.

It means sharing meals. It means visiting the sick and the lonely. It means inviting a stranger into a conversation with a friend. It means going out of your way. It means NOT being part of the ongoing disengagement we find rampant in our society, where neighbors don’t know neighbors, and brothers don’t speak to brothers, where mothers and fathers live just a few blocks away but could just as well live a few STATES away. It is by our connections that we figure out what it means to live in community. It is in the strength of those bonds that we find that shared community is our greatest source of strength. It is where we find that community means family.

It is where we learn to hold each other by the hand, sometimes resting our hands inside the hand of our father, and sometimes letting his hand rest on us.

Let’s pray.

Sunday, March 14, 2004

While We Were Yet Sinners

Sunday, March 14th, 2004
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
Psalm 51:1-13, 17

1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment. 5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. 6 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. 7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. 13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. 17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

It seems to be an excellent opportunity. One of the most famous movie stars in the world, on national and, I’m sure, international television interview shows, saying, “the fact of the matter is, that it wasn’t the Jews or the Romans who killed Jesus. Jesus died because of ME, Jesus died because I killed him” and to make the point (no pun intended), though he does not appear in the movie, there is one critical place in which PART of him DOES appear: it is Mel Gibson’s hand that holds the nail that pierces Jesus’ hand when he is nailed to the cross.

The message in that statement and subsequently, in that scene, whether you’ve seen the movie or not, is simple to those of us who, like Mr. Gibson, and like King David, in the text we’ve just read as a congregation, find ourselves realizing just how guilty we really and truly are. Guilty of sins as dark and bloody as those of the chief priests and Caiaphas, and Judas, and King Herod, and Pontius Pilate. Our sin is as heartbreaking as that of Peter, and Judas, and Paul, and James and John, and all the other apostles, and as most surely damning as that of Hitler, or Mussolini, or Pol Pot, or Stalin.

Our sin may not be as obvious as theirs, but it is just as effective, in the end.
That is the message Mr. Gibson is trying to convey. At least I hope he is.

While I am generally trusting, and quick to take people at face value, in dealing with anything coming out of Hollywood, I’m beginning to be less inclined to let things go at that. There is always this tiny little whisper in the back of my head saying “yeah, it’s all good, but it is HOLLYWOOD, after all. And when all is said and done, it is just a movie.”

Let me backtrack a little. Not really, but let me explain that statement. What I am trying to say is this: in going to see a movie, there is usually what is considered an unspoken agreement between the movie maker and the audience member. It’s a three-word term: the Suspension of Disbelief. In other words, the filmmaker is saying “give me money, and I’ll entertain/enlighten/challenge/enrage you by what you are going to see onscreen for the next hour and a half to 2 hours.” You, as a member of the audience, tacitly agree that, during that time period, you will ignore the fact that, if it is a staged movie, every single thing you see on the screen is fake.

That doesn’t take away from the effectiveness of the message of the movie, in fact, that is the premise on which a movie’s effectiveness is BASED. That is what makes movies such a powerful medium in our culture. We understand that movies are a depiction of events, and to the degree that the intent of the filmmaker was attempting to be true to life, the reliving of the experience through the viewing of the movie brings about the same reaction that viewing the actual experience would.

Now, back to the issue: Mel Gibson, and, and I hope, each of us here in this sanctuary today is aware of how his or her own sin put Christ on the Cross.
I don’t think I need to emphasize that much beyond the simple statement of the fact. When we as followers of Christ say ‘Christ died for our sins’ we are saying this:

God loves humanity.
Humanity broke that relationship.
God made it possible for that relationship to be reestablished through faith in Christ, and acceptance of him as a sacrifice in our place.

What that last statement means is this: the consequence of sin is death. Death of the self that God intended us to become, death of the relationships that God intended us to have, death of the good that God intended us to have done in this world. What sin does is, it puts itself above all else. Whatever that sin is, IT becomes, maybe not always, but it doesn’t have to be always … in fact, the most dangerous sins are those that only occasionally rear their head … we are fooled into thinking we are less guilty if we’ve only committed a sin once or twice, right? As a matter of fact, it’s not really a sin if we only thought it, but didn’t act on it … or is it? I suggest you take a few minutes to read Matthew 5:21-28, where Jesus talks about murder and anger and adultery. So the wages of sin is death. We’ve heard that, if you’ve been raised in church, all our lives. That death is graphically portrayed in the movie. A physical representation of the spiritual reality that is far more lethal.

The only one who truly KNOWS our hearts is God. As we have read, in the midst of his crying out to God, in what must have been heart-rending sobs, David begs, “10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.” King David was aware that his sin, in this case, the adultery committed with Bathsheba, put him out of fellowship with God, as well as those around him.

His cry to God is for reconciliation, for a renewed relationship. In the text I read from the New Revised Standard version, verse 5 of Psalm 51 highlights just how far from God David felt he was – so far that he couldn’t imagine ever having been sinless “born guilty” – in our responsive reading, it goes further, “I was a sinner when my mother conceived me.” Have you ever felt so low, so distant from God, so unworthy, that you thought that?

What we are confronted with is the mystery of the Gospel: Paul speaks of it in Romans, chapter 5, verse 8:

But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.

Christ, in taking our place in death, is making it possible for us to renew a relationship that was once there but has been torn apart. During this season of Lent, and as we approach Holy Week, let us always keep in mind that what Christ suffered in the body, we will suffer in the spirit, unless we accept the life he offers.

It is, after all, life that Christ offers. That was the main problem I had with the movie. The reason Christ came to earth was not ONLY to die in our place, but to teach us, by word and example, what it means to be fully in that relationship with God. To put numbers to it: 289,080 hours in 33 years. Taking the last 12 hours of Jesus’ life – or .00004153 of the full lifespan, is to miss a lot of the rest of his life. That doesn’t mean that those last 12 hours were pivotal, or of utmost importance, but we cannot take just those 12 hours and assume that that was all Christ came for. We can’t lose site of what came before and I feel, what came after. He came that we might have LIFE, and that, more abundantly.

What does all this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

Brian McLaren, Pastor of Cedar Ridge Community Church in Maryland outside of Washington DC, wrote a review, not of the movie, but of the buildup that preceded the opening. Specifically, about that … marketing, for lack of a better term, that was aimed at evangelicals.

“The music,” He starts off by saying, “was appropriately dramatic: bass strings, heavy and resonant, with a mezzo-forte attack and building to fortissimo from there. Then, against a stark black background, a promotional slogan appeared in bold white capitals. It grew, filling the screen's full width: PERHAPS THE BEST OUTREACH OPPORTUNITY IN 2,000 YEARS.”

He goes on to explain that he winced at the slogan, and explains that it defines a frontier between two worlds.
“In one world, modern American Christians can be trusted to bounce and bound like golden retrievers from one silver-bullet "outreach opportunity" to the next—seeking single source shortcuts to complete our mission, which we hope to finish as soon as possible, I guess so we can all get to heaven so the world and its troubles are left behind™. Maybe it's a boxed set of books and videos, mass rallies, radio/TV/satellites, the Internet, PowerPoint, or seeker services. Or else it's adult contemporary praise music, electing Republicans, or a new booklet or tract. Maybe it's candles! Or a new model (take your pick from traditional-modern, contemporary-modern, or postmodern-modern) for "doing church." Or a new film.
In the other world—which many of us are calling the emerging culture (post-Enlightenment, post-Christendom, post-colonial, etc.)—we are watched with amusement, pity, cynicism. There they go again, emerging culture people say about us, unimpressed.

Emerging culture people are, no doubt, as sensitive as anyone else to dramatic, multisensory, rational-plus-emotional presentations. Special effects can impress them. But they're also suspicious of the whole business. They're looking for something that can't be "produced" but which can only be created: Authenticity. Reality. Honesty. Fruit.
That last word, of course, has special resonances to the teachings of Jesus and the apostles. Think of the difference between produce (like fruit) and products (like films, radio broadcasts, boxed programs, etc.). Think of something that must be the organic outgrowth of genuine health and vitality versus something that can be produced with money and technical savvy.
Jesus didn't say it was by our clever outlines, memorable mnemonics, snazzy programs, and special effects that we would be known as his disciples, or that he would be known as sent from God. Rather, he said, it was by our love that we and he would be known, and by our fruit: our good works that shine in darkness and inspire all to glorify God.
No doubt, Mel G's film will be powerful and will help many—millions, I hope—for it is a sincere labor of love about the ultimate labor of love. But it's not the greatest outreach opportunity in 2,000 years, at least, not for the emerging culture. I'll tell you what is.
Actually, I won't, because there isn't one thing. Rather, there are uncountable great outreach opportunities. For example, there are millions of people, precious to God, dying of AIDs. And their orphans too. Do you want the emerging culture to sit up and take notice? Don't show them another movie, however great it is. Show them Christians around the world (starting with those who have been given the most: us) who care and give and love and move to serve.
There are millions of poor Muslims who see the West as decadent, strident, arrogant, selfish, careless, and pugilistic, and of course, they are right. Can you see how offering them a fine movie could just make things worse? Instead, why don't we show them some Christians (in the West but not of it) who are honest, upright, peacemakers, compassionate, humble, and generous?
Our world is torn by ethnic, class, and religious hatred. Don't show the emerging culture a movie about Jesus: show them a movement of people living like Jesus—people who like him love the different, even the enemy, whose doors are open and tables are set with welcome.”

Let’s pray.


Sunday, March 07, 2004

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Sunday, March 7th, 2004
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
Romans 15:1-7

Today’s is the last in the series of messages from Romans, which has coincided with our study of Paul’s letter that we’ve been following on Wednesday nights. Please know that we’ve only scratched the surface of the letter, and you will most probably be hearing more from it before too long. There is just too much there to not come back to it again and again. And now, in this reading of Holy Scripture, listen for God’s word for your life.

1 We who are strong ought to put up with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. 2 Each of us must please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor. 3 For Christ did not please himself; but, as it is written, "The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me." 4 For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. 5 May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, 6 so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 7 Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.

We had driven past the new Spanish restaurant on Bardstown Road many times. I had stopped in while it was still under construction and met and talked to the owner, who was from Valencia. I had been back in the States less than a year at the time, and he seemed a friendly enough man. That late spring afternoon my brother Jimmy, another friend and I were out for a walk, just enjoying the day and being outside. It was hot, and we were dressed comfortably in summer shirts, shorts and sandals. We decided on the spur of the moment to stop in for some ‘tapas’ – small plates of various snack items, some hot, some cold, that are well-known as a mainstay in the cafes and bars that you find almost literally on every street corner in Spain. As we stepped inside, we noticed that though few in number, some of the other patrons were dressed more formally than we. The host’s first question to us was if we had reservations. He did not say we needed them when we told him we had none, but showed us to a table. There were furtive glances from the other people in the restaurant as we sat and joked and laughed. It was several minutes before we realized that no menus had been brought out, nor had we been asked if we’d like something to drink, much less been offered water. After another several minutes, the host came up to us and asked us if we’d decided what we’d like to order. We told him we’d not yet been shown any menus, and he turned and walked away. I noticed the wife of the owner in the back of the restaurant. She was an American, and she was standing looking towards our table. I got up and walked back to her and asked her if there was a problem with our being there. Her response was that they were very busy. It was obvious that there was a subtext to what she was saying. Barely half the tables were occupied. Though she didn’t say anything explicitly, the message was clear.

You’re not welcome here.

It might be best if you found somewhere else to go.

Please leave.

I still remember how horrible I felt walking back to the table and telling my companions that we should probably leave. Though there have been opportunities to do so, I’ve never set foot back in that restaurant.

I remember reading several years back, about a teacher, a fourth grade teacher, who decided to teach her children about bigotry. She divided the class into two groups, the brown-eyed children and the green- and blue-eyed children.

On the designated day, the green and blue-eyed children were given special privileges, choices that the brown-eyed children were denied. They were allowed to play games and in areas where the other children were not, they were first in line at lunchtime, in short, they were the favored group all that day. As the day went on, their treatment of the brown-eyed children reflected their position. The reaction of the students was, unfortunately, predictable. There was a demeaning attitude, a lack of caring for the feelings of the brown-eyed students. The brown-eyed students were not allowed to complain either. They were instructed to not speak up against how they were being treated.

At the end of the day, the teacher advised the students that the next day, the roles would be reversed. On THAT day, it would be the BROWN-EYED students who would be the favored crowd. THEY would be the first in line, the first called on in class, the first to go to recess; they would have the day to themselves.

The reaction of the green- and blue-eyed students was of anxiety. Knowing how they had treated their classmates, they braced for the retaliation that was sure to come the next day.

When they arrived the next day, they were subdued, and more than a little nervous about what the day would bring.

As the day began the oddest thing happened. The brown-eyed children treated them differently, yes, but not in the expected way. They were kinder and more considerate to their blue- and green-eyed classmates. They went out of their way to let them have turns; they ceded their place in lines so that their classmates could participate just as they had before.

They had taken the previous day’s events and learned how NOT to treat others. Having been on the receiving end of injustice, they chose, when it was their turn at the wheel, NOT to return injury for injury, they chose instead to apply the golden rule.

And the lesson was learned.

Paul, in his letter to the Church in Rome, is trying to teach the same lesson. The church was made up of those who had the ‘inside track’, Jews, of whom Jesus was one, and those who were … well, let’s use a term that is familiar to all of us … ‘come heres’, gentiles, not the chosen people, and yet, they all professed faith in Christ. That did not, apparently, eliminate the human propensity to divide ourselves into the ‘us’ and ‘them’. As I mentioned some months ago, it is a natural developmental step that comes along at about the age of 4 or 5, that in forming identity, the human being wants to belong to a community or a group, and in wanting to ‘belong’ you establish or identify a group that doesn’t belong.

The continuing issue in the first century church, which we find Paul constantly fighting against, was to put it in as few words as possible, Law vs. Grace. The Law argued that in order to establish and maintain a relationship with God, one had to follow the Law, meaning 627 rules and regulations that covered everything from what to do to a baby boy 8 days after he was born, to how and what to eat, to how far you could walk and what you could and could not pick up on any given Saturday. The point of the law was that strict observance of those 627 rules would make you righteous, and therefore worthy to be in relationship with God.

Paul’s argument for salvation – or the establishment of a relationship with God – through Grace actually predates the Law, in that God entered into relationship with Abraham before giving the Law to Moses on Mt Sinai, and that relationship was based on … faith. The Law, his argument continues, has for its purpose to expose our unworthiness, our unrighteousness, and in THAT, both Jew and Gentile are in the same boat. Paul uses himself as an example, we read last week in the chapter 7 where Paul was confessing that he, the most zealous observer of the Hebrew Law, did what he didn’t want to do and DIDN’T do what he knew he SHOULD do.

So far, Paul has exposed BOTH the gentile AND the Jewish Christians at the church, letting them know in no uncertain terms that they are ALL sinners, worthy of the worst punishment. Thankfully, he didn’t stop there, but went on to tell of what God has done in Christ, when we had no recourse, literally, no chance in Hell of getting back in touch with God.

In this passage he is drawing the letter to its conclusion. The preceding chapter has been dedicated to discussing a short list of topics that, for a first-century observant Jew, would be considered deal breakers – eating foods that may not have been prepared in compliance with the kosher laws and the observance of the Sabbath. In the 5th verse of the 14th chapter, Paul tells the members of the church ‘Let all be fully convinced in their own minds’ – essentially, he’s saying ‘YOU work out what YOU believe’.

But he doesn’t stop there. He goes to the heart of the matter – what is behind the arguments and disagreements over these issues – belonging. Simply, people on either side are saying – you either eat like I do, practice what I practice, rest when I rest, or we can’t be considered part of the same family.

Paul cuts through all the posturing and tells them to “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” He reminds them of just how serious this is – and of whose lead they need to be following.

His calling one group, the followers of the Law, the weaker of the two, is by association naming himself as a member of that group, since he is an observant Jew, though he does in a later section explain his position as considering those big issues to be ‘small stuff’. It is in this last section of the letter that we truly get a sense of perspective from Paul. His earlier letters, Thessalonians, and Galatians, are written early in his ministry, and they revolve around critical issues that speak to the heart of what the Gospel message is about – we see and hear Paul’s fiery rhetoric in its full undiluted fury. To hear these words come from the mouth of a once-zealous Pharisee is stunning, to say the least.

So, what does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

What do we consider deal breaker issues? What is it we hold so dear, but which have no bearing in truth to the message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ? Are we willing to examine ourselves and let go of what might hold us back from reaching people in our community who would otherwise just as soon not darken the doors of this building unless they were coming to vote?

It is an unsettling proposition, to say the least. The Jewish Christians at the church in Rome were looking at over a thousand years of tradition and history being reinterpreted. Jerusalem would be looking at something under 200 years of traditions, if we followed suit. The question is; whose lead are we going to follow?

Let’s pray.

We come to a time of invitation at the end of each Sunday morning worship service. Sometimes the invitation is more explicit than at others.

Today’s invitation is, as always, first and foremost, an invitation to enter into that relationship with God through the Lordship of Jesus Christ. It is within your grasp to have that same relationship with God that Abraham had, that Paul had, that so many others – the cloud of witnesses, as Paul calls them, have had through the centuries.

If you already have that relationship, and are looking for a church home, where, to honor God, we would accept and welcome you into our midst, please know you are welcome.

If you are already a member of this family of faith, your invitation is to self-examination, to ask yourself what can I do, or what can I do differently, to remove barriers that I may not even realize are there, in order that God may be able to reach my community through me.