Blessed Are …

Sunday, January 30th, 2005
Epiphany 4
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 5:1-12

1When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2Then 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. 11‘Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Blending hope and blessing to sooth the aches and pains of those who are, by most worldly standards, the ones least likely to succeed: the poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted for Christ’s sake. The beatitudes. They are the quintessential preaching points of the Christian faith.

There is, as always, a danger with a passage of scripture becoming too familiar to us. We tend to overlook things we wouldn’t otherwise. To begin with, there’s the unspoken question of the converse of the list – what happens to those who ARE rich in spirit, those who … rejoice, those would seem to be qualities that would be desirable, would they not? In a sense, the first two beatitudes are directed to people for whom we would all have some measure of compassion. The next group, though, would be less an object of compassion and perhaps more a cause for distress: the assertive, to not say aggressive, those who DO NOT hunger and thirst for righteousness, who see no need to get to know their softer side, as it were, those who are ruthless, those whose hearts are full of impure motives? It would seem to be self-evident that they would not be so blessed. So we can pack that point up and move on, can’t we? We can, unless we find ourselves counted among the second group rather than the first.

Where do we stand? Truth be told, none of us are permanently on one side or the other of these qualities. Human nature is changeable, and we sometimes find ourselves being rich in spirit and at other times poor, merciful and ruthless, meek and aggressive, hungering for righteousness one day and indifferent the next.

Jesus knew that. He knew who he was talking to, both then and now. That is what makes this Sermon on the Mount so dynamic. It moves with the time it is in. Regardless of when and where it is read, it applies. It speaks to the eternal nature of the word of God.

So do we leave it at that? At being a listing of those who are blessed, draw what comfort and strength we can from that, and move on? Or is there another way to read this, to apply this, to incorporate this into how we live out our faith?

Can we read the beatitudes as challenges? Can we reread the beatitudes as Jesus telling us how we should be, how we should act, how we should live? There’s a phrase you may have heard Leslie or me use at some point – “don’t should on yourself.” The resemblance to the … less than properly worded alternative is intentional. The parallel thought is assumed. There’s a point at which we hear that in Jesus’ words throughout the gospels. It’s the reason the word ‘sermon’ has acquired something of a negative connotation. In today’s popular culture, we tend to shy away from accountability. There’s an almost-immediate reaction against anyone telling us we should or should not be doing something. ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ is a phrase we would all at some point resoundingly affirm, regardless of who we heard it from.

Here’s where we get into the issue that is at the heart of the Christian faith: authority. You may have heard it referred to as the counterpoint of serving God and Mammon, or in contemporary language, being selfish versus being selfless. What it boils down to is this: if we as Christians claim Jesus Christ as Lord of our lives, that word, LORD has to mean something. Among other things, it means being subject, being accountable, being submissive to what the Lord requires of us. The passage from Micah is beautiful both in form and function:

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

We’d like to leave it at that, and in many ways we can, even as a Gospel people, reading the Old Testament through the lens of Easter, there is completeness in the Micah text that sums it up for us. That’s what we like about bumper stickers, isn’t it?

What Jesus is doing is fleshing that out. He gets into specifics. He fills in the blanks. He answers the question: What does that mean?

We would rather live in generalities, as a people, leaving the specifics to each individual. In fact, that is a hallmark of Baptist theology – we call it Soul Competency. Each individual has the capacity to sense, discern and respond to the movement of God in their lives through the Holy Spirit. The corollary to that tenet is that there is a … need … a requirement to know the source as well as possible in order to be able to do that discerning, that sensing … that … following … so we put a lot of emphasis on scripture. We believe Jesus did too. He was constantly quoting scripture – to his disciples, to the crowds that gathered, to the religious leaders of the time, and interpreting it for them in the way it should have been from the beginning. There’s that word again – SHOULD.

So we need to get over being told what to do. Not because we should accept anyone telling us what to do, but because of WHO is telling us. If we believe that Jesus is who he said he is, then we need to listen to what he is telling us. Who BETTER to do so?

The tricky part is, how do we distinguish the message from the messenger? I could step up to this pulpit with an agenda, a preset list of issues to discuss and present and might be capable of presenting the message in such a way as to convince you that the way I see it is what Jesus was saying. In some ways, that’s my job in preaching. As Pastor I am charged with the responsibility to care for the spiritual wellbeing of the congregation as a whole and as individuals. And I will confess to you that I am aware that I interpret the Gospel in a certain way by nature – in other words, I’m drawing from the Gospel what I see through the lens of MY life and experience. But I want it to be clear that if and when I present that … view, that version, as it were, it is an exercise in self-awareness. What I would hope is that it would not be, as it says in the blurb in the announcement about the messages being online, taken as dictation, but rather as the beginning of a conversation. That is a responsibility that I do not believe I am called to - to interpret FOR you, to delineate, to define for you what the Gospel means. That is a responsibility that we each carry as Children of God. It is in the conversation that we are opened to thoughts we might not have had, to ideas we might not have considered, to views we could not have held, had we not been in community, and in that context, had we not been sensitive to the leading of the Holy Spirit.

That is the reason for our congregational benediction – the part about “May God take your minds and think through them, may God take your lips and speak through them” is not JUST about being God’s presence in the world, but it is about being in dialogue within this family of faith. To not be afraid to risk something big, how we see, how we believe, how we live, and present it to our brothers and sisters for something good – a deeper understanding, an ‘aha!’ moment, an epiphany of ‘I never thought of it like that before’.

So, blessed are those who search and hunger for righteousness, who can be poor or rich in Spirit, who mourn and rejoice, who are meek and not so meek, who are reviled for HIS sake, who gather here. We are blessed, but we are called. We are challenged to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters, to lay them down for our Lord, to seek – to live – the way to the truth and the life. We are one and the same. And we are called to more, we are challenged to more, by our Lord Jesus Christ.

Let’s pray.

Shifting Alliance

Sunday, January 16th, 2005
Epiphany 2
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
John 1:29-42

29 The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! 30This is he of whom I said, “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” 31I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.’ 32And John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. 33I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” 34And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.’ 35The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’ 37 The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi’ (which translated means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ 39He said to them, ‘Come and see.’ They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. 40One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. 41He first found his brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which is translated Anointed). 42He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter).

Josh and Sam have been friends since college. They went through Law school together, and both became quickly disenchanted with the corporate law jobs they landed out of school. They made a promise to each other that if one of them ever came across ‘the real thing’ he would go find the other, and they would both fall in behind the one they found. There was a recklessness in the promise, a ‘damn the torpedoes’ sense of abandon. They would know. They just knew it.

Then one day, it happens. Sam is sitting in a meeting between his Law firm partners and their corporate client, a multinational shipping firm, discussing the details of how to avoid being penalized for operating unsafe tankers in order to maximize profits, when Josh shows up at the door. It’s a glass door. Sam glances over and sees Josh, and the look on Josh’s face is enough to tell Sam all he needs to know. He tries to excuse himself politely, but is pressed by his boss to stay. He looks at Josh again, and this time, he doesn’t ask permission. He stands up and takes a step towards the door, towards Josh, and simply says ‘I have to do this’, and walks out.

If you are a fan of ‘The West Wing’, I don’t need to fill in the blanks. If you are not, Josh Lyman and Sam Seaborn became the Deputy Chief of Staff and Deputy Communications Director, respectively, in the White House of the fictitious Josiah Bartlett administration.

The story and characters may be fictitious, the dynamics and truths of the human condition they speak to are not.

What does it mean to take a step of faith?

How big does that step have to be in order to qualify AS a step of faith?

A few weeks ago in our Wednesday night study in the book of Mark, we read about the young man who ran up to Jesus and fell to his knees and asked him what he needed to do to be saved. The other Gospels have made the man better known as the rich young ruler. Mark doesn’t present him that way.

The earliest and shortest Gospel presents him simply as a young man with an earnest desire to find what it was that was missing in his life. Though the presentation of the event is slightly different in Mark, Jesus ends up giving the man the same answer we have in the other Gospels: “go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." (19:21b)

Even though there is a conclusion to the scene, in the man going away grieving, because he had many possessions, the story doesn’t end there. Mark doesn’t tell us what happened with the rest of that man’s life.

Did he in fact take the step of faith that Jesus told him he needed to, and sell all he had and donate the proceeds to the poor? DID he come back after that and become a follower of Jesus?

Those hanging endings are not uncommon to find in the Gospels. I believe they are intentional. They allow us an opportunity to turn the questions raised on ourselves. What would *I* have done in that situation? How would *I* have responded? That’s part of what brings the scriptures to life.

In today’s text, we are treated to a story with something of an ending … it doesn’t leave us hanging in the same way as Jesus’ encounter with the rich young man.

Here we have John the Baptist, the biggest name in wilderness –wandering prophetic voices of the day in first century Palestine, doing what HE does best – calling. This time, he is recognizing Jesus for who HE is – the Lamb of God. The baptism has already taken place. We went over that last Sunday. John has already protested that Jesus should be the one baptizing HIM, and Jesus politely refutes him and they proceed with the original plan. As we read last week, when Jesus came up out of the water, the Spirit of God descended on him like a dove, and he heard a voice from heaven speak, saying, “this is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” I wonder what it was like for John, to one day have crowds coming to him to be baptized by the hundreds, and then to be face to face with the messiah, who turns out to be his cousin.

I’ve got several cousins … one works in the telecom industry, another is a narcotics police officer, and another is a Pastor, another runs his own business, and another works for a large agricultural supply firm. I’ve got others, but I’m not close enough to them to know what they do … I love them all, and they are all Godly men, as far as I know, but if one of them walked through that door and I realized that in that walking in they were the Messiah, it would take a dove from heaven and the voice of God to convince me that it was true.

I have to wonder what it was like for John. It is interesting that the narrative in John doesn’t include the actual baptism of Jesus, for that we had to go to Matthew’s gospel last week, but it seems to weave its way around the event, speaking more to the importance and the meaning of it rather than dwell on the particulars of it … and picks up right after … the next day, in fact, which is where the text begins for today.

It says something about the nature of John the Baptist to have him still carrying out his duties, as it were, even after the Messiah has been revealed to him. He still has followers, disciples, as it were, who were following him around. The first paragraph covers two days’ time, and have in them two encounters between Jesus and John the Baptist.

Jesus says nothing in either of them.

John does all the talking. Rather, all the declaring, the proclaiming. Testifying is the term used in the text. John testifies “I saw the Spirit descending” … there is a willingness to … direct those who are listening to him towards him whom HE has been looking for and proclaiming all HIS life, even to his seeming detriment.

He (John) has a couple of his own disciples with him on the second day. When he sees Jesus that time, he doesn’t seem to hesitate, but tells them “you know who I’ve been talking about all this time? THAT’S THE GUY! THAT’S HIM!!!” I can almost see him pushing the two disciples away from himself toward Jesus after he’s gone past, and can you picture the looks on the faces of the two men as they hesitantly take those first steps towards Jesus? Their body language that says ‘but, John, we’ve gotten used to following YOU around … you really want us to go follow … him???”

Isn’t it the case that one’s importance is determined by the size of one’s following, by one’s popularity? You certainly wouldn’t want to lose followers, much less encourage them to leave, would you?

Again, that was John. He knew what he was here for.

HIS alliance didn’t shift, but because it didn’t, his disciples’ alliance HAD to. All along, he was the one preparing the way – the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord’.

His disciples, though hesitant, did take that step of faith … from following John, to following Jesus. When Jesus noticed they were following him, his question was ‘What are you looking for?’ It’s a question with several layers of meaning, and one that he continues to ask US here today. Their answer is a foreshadowing of the next three years. They think in concrete terms: do you have a place to stay? The question behind the question is, of course, less interested in where Jesus is resting his head and more interested in where THEY may rest theirs … ‘if we follow you, will WE have a place to stay?’

It seems we can never entirely loose ourselves of the routine concerns of daily life. Will we have a roof over our heads? Will we have food on our table? Will we have clothes on our backs?

They are all valid concerns, but ones that we must, nonetheless, place in their proper place.

Any time I begin in on this subject, I feel entirely inadequate. I live in a beautiful house, have more than enough clothes, food, and other provisions to make me one of the richest people on earth – I don’t mean in strictly financial terms – but in comparison to the rest of the world population, I am wealthy beyond measure.

What we are speaking of this morning is alliance – allegiance, if you will – submission - to whom or to what are we giving our lives? Do we fill our days in pursuit of wealth? Jesus has a word for us in the story of the rich young ruler. Do we fill our time seeking position? Jesus has a word for us in his response to the request his disciples made to sit at his right and left hand in Glory. Do we seek wisdom? The Psalmist tells us the beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord. Do we seek our fulfillment in work? The parable of the rich farmer who dies with full granaries gives us an idea of where God is calling us.

God calls us to action, but not if in the acting we lose sight of who we are acting for. God calls us to be rich, but rich in spirit, in love, and in grace. God calls us to seek our position – but God also tells us that the greatest of these will be the least – to be servant of all. God calls us to be wise – to be in love with him – and all else will follow. God calls us to be about his work, and that work can and is radically different from what the world would consider work.

For us here this morning at Jerusalem Baptist Church: where is our allegiance? Whom are we submitted to? Are we trying to steer our own path? Are we here simply as a formality, because we’ve always been here at this hour on Sunday mornings, and it would be unseemly to not show up? Are we here because at some point in our past we felt God stir in our hearts, but that stirring has long since quieted, and we continue to come, hoping that something will happen, that someone will say something that will stir us again?

We can hold an alliance to tradition, to formality, to continuing to do things the way they’ve always been done, and lose sight of the one who needs to hold our ultimate loyalty.

So the question this morning is a hanging one; an open ended question, and we each must answer it for ourselves, and go from there. The rest of our lives have yet to be written.

Who or what holds your ultimate allegiance, and does it need to shift?

Let’s pray.

I Have …

Sunday, January 9th, 2005
(Third after Christmas)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 3:13-17; Isaiah 42:1-9

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ 15But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented. 16And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. 17And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’

Isaiah 42:1-9

1 Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. 2He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; 3a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. 4He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching. 5 Thus says God, the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it: 6I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, 7to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness. 8I am the LORD, that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols. 9See, the former things have come to pass, and new
things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them.

We’re still at the beginning of the year, in relation to the calendar. So it seems entirely appropriate to be reading of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. The event marked by his Baptism in the Jordan River. Most often it is quoted in the context of a service which includes a Baptism or two. My friend Jay Voorhees is doing just that this morning at Antioch United Methodist church in Nashville. He’s drawing the parallels between how we approach Baptism and how the Jewish faith celebrates Yom Kippur; as a dedication of the upcoming year to God. Again, an entirely appropriate and meaningful parallel. There are some differences in how Methodists and Baptists approach the act of Baptism, but one thing that he noted made me sit up and think.

What we read in the text is that after Jesus came up out of the water, “the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the spirit of God descending like a dove.” As Baptists, we traditionally emphasize the fact that following Christ in the waters of Baptism is a sign of obedience.

It is.

We should “so seek to follow Christ ourselves” that that would be a step we can take willingly and joyfully, an act that reminds us of the death, burial, and resurrection not only of Christ, but of ourselves – to our old life, and of being reborn in the newness of life in Christ. Our focus is on the responsive nature of our action. In other words, we do it in response to what God has done in our lives. But let’s try this morning to look at it from another angle.

Baptism is a powerful thing. To be honest with you, when I first met Father Duffy, the priest at St. Timothy’s over in Tappahannock, I was surprised. In the course of our conversation, he mentioned a man who was attending church there and wanted to join the parish. This man had apparently been a member here at some point in the past, and Father Duffy wanted to confirm if the man had been baptized here. His reason was simple. The Catholic Church does not re-baptize anyone if they’ve already been baptized in another Christian tradition.

What surprised me about that was that there really is more going on in the act of baptism than simply an obedient response on the part of the person being baptized. It is somewhat foreign to me, this idea that there’s more going on … I’m not always comfortable with anything that smacks of mysticism, but I have come to the realization that in order to embrace faith, there is a mystic element to the practice of faith that MUST be present in order for us to allow for the movement of the Holy Spirit in our lives, in our hearts, and in our work. Consider for a moment that the act is not just one of obedience, but that it is also a signal, a marker to us that God is at work in our lives from then on – and usually BEFORE the – on.

A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings tells the story of an angel that is blown down to earth by a violent rainstorm, while on an errand from God. A peasant couple, Pelayo and Elisenda, find him. They are shocked when they find him, but they never falter, or question his existence. In THAT sense, they take the fact that they came across a heavenly being on their walk through the country completely in stride. “Before the arrival of the angel, they are a simple, poor family with a dying son. Once the angel is captured, the son recovers and the family uses the angel for financial gain. Marquez shows us true human nature. An incredible being falls to the Earth and the humans use it to make a fast buck.” [1]

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the Colombian author, uses the hallmark of his style of writing – what has come to be regarded as a genre unto itself – ‘Magical Realism’, throughout the story.

"Magical realism expands the categories of the real so as to encompass myth, magic and other extraordinary phenomena in Nature or experience which European realism excluded"[2]

I’m not proposing we should adopt a form of literature to provide the guideline for how we should live our lives, but we could take a hint from it.

If we hold God’s incarnation in Jesus Christ, and the presence of the Holy Spirit in the world today to be central and true to our faith, then we can live every day with a Magical realism that far surpasses any literary attempt to put it into words.

I was looking through a promotional brochure last night for a young adult conference, and the tag line was ‘blur the line between faith and life’.

I’m thinking there should be no line – blurry or otherwise – between faith and life. I can understand what the promoter was trying to say, but I’m not so sure we should allow for any distinction between how ‘faith’ operates in our lives and how we live our regular, day-to-day lives. It gives the impression that we can appropriately separate the two.

We can of course. It’s easy if you miss the point. The question is, is that something you WANT to do, or something that just happened without your realizing it?

If our example is Jesus, and he is, then there was no compartmentalization going on in his life and faith. For him, to breath was to be in communion with God. To confront the Pharisees and Sadducees, and to heal the lepers and the paralytics were all just as much acts of worship as they were events that found their way in to the run-of-the-mill daily occurrences in the lives of the people of Galilee and Judea. He didn’t save the good stuff for Sundays.

Let’s jump to the Isaiah passage. It picks up where the passage in Matthew lets off. In it, God continues to extol the virtues and acts of the Messiah. (Read).

Notice the shift from the second person (he will bring forth justice, he will not cry, he will not break …), to the first person (I have called you, I have taken you, I have given you …).

In those few sentences we see the whole movement of the Gospel: from the distant to the immediate, from impersonal, to the personal. From the other, unknowable God, to the God who walked among us. From the vengeful, angry, jealous God, to the God who would invite us each to gather around the table and join him in the feast, and walk with him in relationship, in love, and in discipleship.

And so we come to the table, at the invitation of the most high God.

Let’s pray.


[1] Gabriel García Márquez, eds. Bernard McGuirk and Richard Cardwell, p 204.
[2] Ibid, p 45

Setting Sights

Sunday, January 2nd. 2005
(Second after Christmas, Epiphany)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 2:1-12

A foreword:

For almost the last two weeks I have been ‘perking’ today’s message. For the last week, I have, in a parallel way, been catching what I could of the developments related to the Earthquake and Tsunamis that hit Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and the other countries around the Indian Ocean.

Last night, as I sat down to put on paper the message related to the text for today, it hit me that, just as I expected Father Win Lewis, the rector of Old Donation Episcopal Church in Virginia Beach, to say something that would lend meaning to the events of September 11th, 2001, when I went to the prayer vigil that evening, I wondered if you would expect the same of me this morning, in light of what we have heard and seen of the unfolding tragedy and unimaginable suffering of those who have lost everything – EVERYTHING and are trying to survive after … having survived the initial disaster.

If your question is “why?”, all I can do is refer you to Paul’s letter to the church at Rome, chapter 8, beginning around verse 19, but especially verse 22, where he speaks of ‘creation groaning in labor pains until now …’ and entreat you to each find a way to do something -- however small, through whatever agency. I read some statistics last night – there are approximately 189 million working adults in the United States today. If each of us gave $100.00 towards relief efforts, we would be sending about 18 Billion (with a B) dollars to help with relief and reconstruction efforts. Another way to approach it is this: there are about 169,000 congregations that make up the top ten denominations in the United States. What if each of those congregations was to give $500 toward Asian relief? We would be able to give 84.5 million dollars toward these efforts. (thanks Jay for the stats)

The one thing we CAN do immediately is to continue to lift up our brothers and sisters, those who have lost so much, as well as those who are on the front lines of providing relief, in prayer. So let’s do that right now. Please bow with me:

God of Compassion, with you and all the world family, we weep and mourn. Comfort all who are alone or afraid, who wail in loud lamentation. Let us be your heart reaching out to those who grieve. Let us be your hands working to assist those who still live. For you are the God who stands with the least and the lost. Come by here, Lord. Come by Sri Lanka, and India, and Indonesia. Come by all the places that need your comforting and healing presence. Amen.

1In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ 3When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 6“And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.”’ 7Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’
9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

What’s he doing? Doesn’t he know it’s AFTER Christmas? That’s part of the Christmas story!

Yes, I DO know it is after Christmas, and yes, the passage IS part of the Christmas story, but today is ALSO the Sunday before the celebration of the Epiphany, which falls on January 6th, the day marks the traditional arrival of the three wise men to the place where Jesus was with his family, before the flight to Egypt, on the 12th day after Christmas (hence the song). Bear with me; let’s see where this takes us.

I always got in trouble with the backstroke. For the longest time, I wasn’t able to figure out that, in order to move in a straight line, and in the absence of floater lines on either side of the travel lane, the best way to get from one side of the pool to the other involved fixing your position on a spot or an object at the end of the pool you just dove off of, and keeping your body in line with IT, in order to make your way down the length of the pool to the other side. Part of the problem with THAT was the fact that, after a certain distance, my nearsightedness made it hard for me to distinguish smaller objects on which I might have focused. It didn’t take me long to figure out that, when doing the breast stroke or the crawl, the best way to keep within your lane was to watch the nice, WIDE stripe so generously provided for you on the bottom of the pool.

Santiago summers are hot. Dry and Hot. Hotter than summers outside Santiago, mainly due to the amount of pavement that is absorbing, retaining, and reflecting the sun and heat back up at you. Since there is little to no rain in summer, and Santiago is in a bowl – surrounded by mountains – it’s your basic frying pan. The main objective in summer is to get out of the city as often and for as long as possible.

I enjoyed staying in Santiago. The pace slowed down, since so much of the population spent the summer outside the city, and there was still stuff to do. My favorite activity by far, though, was swimming. We lived just a few blocks from the community pool, just enough of a walk to work up a sweat while you walked there and long enough to dry off as you walked back. Often, we would head out early enough to get there before they actually opened the pool for the day, and ended up waiting for them to finish pouring in the chlorine and impatiently waiting for the minutes to tick by before the chemicals had sufficiently diluted themselves before we could dive in. We STILL wound up with stinging, red-rimmed eyes and itchy noses, and green hair, but it was a small price to pay for the sheer joy of diving into the deep end of the pool and opening your eyes underwater, looking across the expanse of the pool and seeing the other side, with sunlight dappling the sides and bottom of the pool. It created a magical quiet place to which I readily escaped, weightlessly floating until i couldn't hold my breath any longer.

We know the story. We’ve heard it, or most of it, as far back as we can remember. Mary and an angel, Joseph and an angel, shepherds and a whole bunch of angels … then Herod comes into the picture and three wise men from the east do too. Being foreigners, they check in at the desk, so to speak, when they get to the area, and let the local King know why they are there. The local King, along with ‘all of Jerusalem’ – in an interesting parallel to a similar response at the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry – is frightened. As usual, they are frightened of what they don’t understand and cannot control. How unusual is that? But let’s focus on the last 4 verses: (read)

8Then he (Herod) sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ 9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

The celebration of epiphany is the celebration of the giving of the gifts. Again, the song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ makes that aspect of the celebration apparent. On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

It is interesting to me that we also use the term to signal a moment – an event - a transformative second when we have a glorious unveiling – a dazzling moment of clarity when an idea hits us, or when we suddenly realize something that afterwards seems obvious, or a given, where before we seemed to be muddling along in a thick soup, unaware of anything remotely as apparent as that would soon come to be.

In any case, we have the wise men, who apparently spent a good portion of their time observing the heavens, at least enough to note the coming of the star of Bethlehem, and even more importantly, to recognize its significance. They realized the importance of the event. Scripture doesn’t go into a lot of detail about HOW they did that, but in their response to the coming of the star, they demonstrated that on some level, they understood the coming of the star, and the coming of the Christ child as an epiphany in world history.

So they set off, and set their sights on the star, and made their way to Judea. They were briefly sidetracked by Herod, but then were able to get back on track and make their way, still, following the star, until it brought them to the place where they were “overwhelmed with joy.” Can we identify a place or a time in our lives when WE were ‘overwhelmed with Joy’?

It seems like such a trivial question in the face of the incredible suffering we’ve witnessed since last Sunday, and yet, that’s the starting point. If we are going to respond to tragedy, it will come out of our response to the unmerited grace of God in touching OUR lives, in changing US, in having been rescued, and welcomed, and comforted and surrounded by the presence of God through the family of God. We have an opportunity to gift the sorrowing world with the presence of God in a way that we seldom do.

We can get bogged down in the smallness of our contribution. I used to get so frustrated, after having concentrated so hard on making my arms go to the same place with each stroke, but having kept my face facing directly up, I had no point of reference by which to gauge where I was headed, and I always ended up disoriented, hitting the side of the pool with my left arm, or worse, with my head. Once I learned the importance of maintaining that point of reference, getting from one end of the pool to the other became a matter of time, and not direction. Keeping an eye on where I was coming from helped me get to where I was going.

We have no choice about diving into 2005. That has already happened. What we DO have a choice about, of course, is … what course we will set for ourselves as we move through the year. Will we be focusing on where we’re coming from, or where we’re going? Or is it possible to hold both within us, letting the one inform the other – helping us maintain our bearings, and set our sights on the prize that is before us?

Let’s pray.

What Did You Expect?

Sunday, December 12th, 2004
Third Sunday of Advent (Joy)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 11:2-11

2When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples 3and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ 4Jesus answered them, ‘Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. 6And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.’
7 As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: ‘What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? 8What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. 9What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10This is the one about whom it is written, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.” 11Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

What did you expect, people?

Did you really think that what you would find in the wilderness was a soft-spoken, gentle, meek, warm and fuzzy sort of a man, who would ask you to “please, if you don’t mind, could you, maybe, just maybe, if you’re not doing anything else important, um … sorry to have to use this word … but … repent? (pretty please with sugar on it and a cherry on top?)”

What did you expect, John?

You’ve been telling people for some time now what to look for, and here it is, all happening just like you and the other prophets said it would. The blind are seeing, the lame are walking, lepers are being healed, the deaf are hearing, the dead are being raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. What more do you want? What better proof do you need?

Sometimes there ISN’T so much lost in the translation, is there?

As much as I’ve grown to appreciate liturgy and ritual over the years, and the solemnity and weight that they can bring to a worship service, there is a definite risk in continuing in that – whatever form of … formality it takes, since there are variations. The forms of worship, such as the discipline of silence that we observed a few minutes ago, or the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, or the congregational benediction we share at the end of most of our services, in the best sense of the word, lend a predictability to worship that we, being the creatures of habit that we are, find comforting and reassuring in their familiarity, that aspect of them that is most appealing is that in the midst of an unpredictable world, fraught with changing social mores, political upheavals, economic fluctuations, the possibility of waking up one day to a phone call telling of a dear friend’s death, or of a potentially fatal illness of our own, there is much that is reassuring in predictability.

What did you expect?

The thing is, we build up immunity to the predictable. Familiarity breeds contempt. Rote memorization does not engage the heart, just the brain. And the message, whatever that message is, gets lost in the memorization process. We love the old hymns, and we sing them with hardly a glance at the words, either by our eyes OR our hearts. That is why it’s good to occasionally listen to what you are singing, and THINK about the words. If we were to recite the Lord ’s Prayer each Sunday, as some do, it would fairly quickly become little more than a time marker for how far along we are in the service.

Up until a couple of months ago, at a certain point in each message, I would bring up the question “So what does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?” You may or may not have noticed I stopped using that device. (For a while, I should say.) The reason is that someone whose judgment I trust implicitly told me one day that it worked for a while, but it had become the cue to mentally check out and start thinking about where to eat lunch, here comes the end of the sermon, and for the musicians to get up to the piano and the organ. Not that those are bad things, it just helps to occasionally shake things up a bit.

So there is God. Watching and waiting for the fullness of time. God has, through the prophets, let the people know what to expect, what to look for in the Messiah, and how to recognize him. For them, it’s been hundreds of years. As far back as anyone can remember, they’ve all been saying the same thing. And somewhere back around their great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, it stopped being about the Messiah and started being about the way it was being said, or chanted, or phrased, and by whom, and how often, and on what days, and with what clothes, and with what … accessories.

What did you expect?

It would seem that nothing else was happening. At least nothing like what Isaiah had told of. Actually, yes, there were things happening. Israel got Judges, then some pretty good kings, then a great king, then a not so great king, then several not so great kings, then they got invaded, then the tribes got split up, and the northern Kingdom pretty much disappeared, and the last two tribes, this remnant, this runt of a country was left, constantly being kicked around by bigger neighbors, forced into exile by Babylonians, overrun by Egyptians, Syrians, a whole bunch of political disasters … so the people of Israel got tired of being kicked around, and started to look for a way out … and they were still reading these same passages, and they began to see them in light of THEIR circumstances …

What did you expect?

WE do that on a regular basis. We can’t help it. It’s part of what keeps the word alive for us.

So, what does God’s word have for us here, now, today, at Jerusalem Baptist Church?

Let’s change the emphasis of the question: what did you expect?

When you stepped into the sanctuary this morning, what did you expect? Did you sit in the same seat, smile at the same people and make the same comments about the weather to your neighbor? During the hymns, especially this time of year, did you simply mouth the words, or simply listen to others as they sang? During the discipline of silence, were your thoughts more on ‘how much longer this will go before he starts to pray?’ Or were you truly disciplining yourself into the silence?

What did you expect?

Today is the Third Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of Joy. We’ve observed the lighting of the candles of Hope, Peace, and today, Joy. Next Sunday will be the Sunday of love. As I mentioned on the first Sunday of advent, this is a time of anticipation – of waiting – of waiting for the coming of the Christ Child, and on Christmas Eve we will light the Christ candle.

At the beginning of the text this morning, Jesus tells John’s disciples who’ve come to ask him if he really is the one they’ve been waiting for to “go and tell what you have heard and seen.”

So we are about that business, still. 2000 years later. Going and telling what we have heard and seen God do in our own lives, in our own hearts, in our own families, and in the lives of those around us.

Our telling is to be … full of joy … shedding joy, reeking of joy, because it is the ultimate joy, to be called children of God.

Let’s pray.

Prepare the Way

Sunday, December 5th. 2004
Second Sunday of Advent (Peace)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Matthew 3:1-12

1In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’ 3This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, ‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”’ 4Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9Do not presume to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 11‘I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

Peace, like war, is waged.
Peace plans its strategy and encircles the enemy.
Peace marshals its forces and storms the gates.
Peace gathers its weapons and pierces the defense.
Peace, like war, is waged.
But Christ has turned it all around:
the weapons of peace are love, joy, goodness, longsuffering;
the arms of peace are justice, truth, patience, prayer;
the strategy of peace brings safety, welfare, happiness;
the forces of peace are the sons and daughters of God.

This poem by Walker Knight was what first brought to my attention the existence of the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America. It was founded by a small group of people at Deer Park Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky, on March 31st, 1984.

The poem was first published in the Home Missions magazine in 1972. At the time I first read the poem, the country was not engaged in any sort of action that could be considered outright ‘war’ – at least not to the public’s knowledge. There were peacekeeping operations going on in the middle east as well as a couple of other places around the globe, but there was no military conflict comparable to the one that was going on at the time the poem was originally written – the Vietnam war.

Once a year, the Fellowship gathers for a retreat, to work out a continuing strategy to achieve peace in real, physical, tangible ways, primarily focused around issues of justice. Part of the tradition that has grown up around these gatherings has been that they are as much a spiritual retreat as a planning meeting. To that end, each year a passage of scripture is chosen as a theme around which to center that prayer and devotional time, and a banner is made, similar to the ones we would otherwise have hanging behind me on the wall, with the scripture on it.

This year, the man who was carrying the banner to the gathering was stopped, and the case in which the banner was carried was confiscated by agents at the airport. No reason was given for the confiscation. After a two week period, the man was notified that he could return and pick up the suitcase with the banner inside. That was, of course, after the gathering had taken place. No explanation was given, no apology, no reason as to why the banner was confiscated. The absence of the banner did not stop the retreat or the prayers for peace.

It seems that even today, there are those who would hold suspect any organization trying to promote peace in the midst of conflict, perhaps doubting the sincerity of the motives, perhaps questioning the validity of their call to prophetically speak against the grain of what would seem to be most things Baptist. We are, after all, the only denomination to have come out in favor of the war in Iraq. Perhaps it would do us good to lend an ear to those with whom we might disagree, there might be something to learn in the tension created between differing viewpoints.

There is another tension I’d like to talk about this morning.

One of the biblical names for Jesus is ‘Prince of Peace’. There’s a reason for that. He is the one who brings ultimate peace to our lives. It’s not always immediate, it’s not always smooth, and it is not free from rough spots. Anyone in this room can probably attest to that.

We heard a few minutes ago, Lindsey reading from the book of Micah, 4:3-4:

“He will judge between people from many nations. He’ll settle problems among strong nations everywhere. They will hammer their swords into plows. They’ll hammer their spears into pruning tools. Nations will not go to war against one another. They won’t event train to fight anymore. Every man will have his own vine and fig tree. And no one will make them afraid. That’s what the Lord who rules over all has promised.”

So it seems a bit jarring that the passage from Matthew this morning sets Jesus up as something of an instigator and not so much a peacemaker; the words are coming from John’s mouth, but they could just as well have come from Jesus’. “Brood of vipers” is not exactly what you’d call a ‘term of endearment’. It is not designed to “win friends and influence people”.

In this case, what it IS doing is speaking truth. Calling a spade a spade was something Jesus was both good at and unafraid to do. No matter WHOM he was talking to. He didn’t let the Pharisees get by without calling their bluff, or the Sadducees, or the Samaritan woman at the well, or the woman caught in adultery, or his own disciples. Though the ultimate result is and will be peace, the road to reach it is anything but smooth.

If we are called to be Christ’s presence in this world, we are called to be imitators of him. We are to be about the business of building the Kingdom of God – on earth. That is our duty, that is our call, that is our goal, because that is what we have to work with. We live in the present with our hope in the future. We live in the midst of turmoil and pestilence. We live in an age that does not know peace – true peace. It is reflected in so many ways. It is reflected in the incredible inequities we find in our very own society. It is reflected in the constant outbreaks of wars, and insurrections, and infighting between those who should be brothers, it is reflected in estrangement between family members, and broken relationships, and physical and emotional abuse, it is found in the horrible mistreatment of animals, in the exploitation of natural resources with little or no regard for the long-term consequences for our children and their children, it is found in the world at large turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the masses of hurting and dying people who COULD BE helped, if we only had the heart.

Yes, we are working toward the hope of one day experiencing the Kingdom of God directly – when we are in God’s presence, but for now, we are to be

‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’

For those of you who were here last Sunday afternoon and evening, I believe we caught a glimpse of what it looks like to make that path straight. With over 60 of our Mexican friends in attendance, the presence of each of you around those tables, smiling and laughing, going over English vocabulary or working in the kitchen, preparing the trays, and yeah, even fretting about whether or not we were going to have enough food to feed everyone, you were preparing the way of the Lord.

Most often, we understand the second coming of Christ to be … shall we say, a … dramatic event. Not something that you might, say, sleep through; angels, and fire, and clouds of light, trumpets, the works.

Picture it, if you will, as unlikely as it may seem; a world that has been so infused with the presence and the work of the Holy Spirit, that the coming of the Kingdom is indeed like that of ‘a thief in the night’ – but in the best sense of the word. Unexpected, yes, but at the same time, the ‘after’ not greatly different from what was there ‘before’. Can you imagine, if we as the body of Christ were to carry out our calling as thoroughly and completely as we could, alongside every other member of the body of Christ? Can you imagine what the world would look like if most of the work of breaking in the Kingdom had already been accomplished?

It’s a dream, I know, perhaps an unrealistic one.

But then, what are dreams for?

Let’s pray.

The Lord Needs It

Sunday, November 21st, 2004
25th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church
Luke 19:29-38

29 When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, 30 saying, "Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. 31 If anyone asks you, 'Why are you untying it?' just say this, 'The Lord needs it.' “32 So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. 33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, "Why are you untying the colt?" 34 They said, "The Lord needs it." 35 Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. 36 As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. 37 As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, 38 saying "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!"

Here it comes.

We’re sliding right into it, just like we do every year. We’re moving into the holiday season. The one where everything becomes a blur, and there’s too much to do, too much to eat, too much to buy, too much to plan, too many parties to go to, too many rehearsals to attend, and way way way too much to think about to actually STOP and THINK.

So here’s my proposal. Set aside an hour a week over the next six weeks to stop and think. If that hour happens to begin around 11 on Sunday mornings, so be it. I hope we can work together on the proposal.

We’ve been in Luke for the last couple of months. Next Sunday will be the first of the church year, and we’ll switch over to the Gospel of Matthew. For now, we’re still in Luke.

As would necessarily be the case, the readings have been leading up to this point in the gospel account – the conclusion of the story, or perhaps it might best be called the culmination of the story. We find Jesus preparing the disciples for the entry into Jerusalem. He has just come from Bethany, home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, and is stepping into what HE understands to be the end game of his life here on earth.

While it is crucial to incorporate the Easter events into our faith walk, into our understanding of how God has worked in history and continues to work in our lives, for everything there is, as we find in the third chapter of the book of Ecclesiastes, a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

We are approaching the time of year when we celebrate the coming of the Christ Child, a time that we generally characterize as full of joy, hope, peace, and love. That is, of course, as it should be. The seasons of our lives are reflected in the seasons of the year.

We cannot, however, enter into a full-blown celebration of the birth of Christ without recognizing, without acknowledging the shadowside of the Christmas story. When we read of Herod’s order to kill all the boys less than two years of age in Bethlehem, we can readily identify the brokenness of the world …breaking into what we would like to consider the happiest occasion of all.

Similar sorrow has been inflicted in our memory with the downing of Pan American flight 103 over Scotland on December 21st, 1988, or just last year, where landslides in the Philippines killed hundreds almost exactly 15 years later. Can any of us say whether or not we remember that coming across the news? There have been any number of disasters that have struck on or around Christmas, some far away and some very, very close to home. They have all tinged our celebrations with a sense that, while there is much to celebrate, there is likewise much to mourn.

How many of us have our own personal stories of events that conspired to do away with any joy to be felt in the middle of the yuletide season?

One of the reasons we have elected to hold a grief recognition service in the midst of the holidays is specifically for that reason. Events that are out of our control occur in the lives of those both inside and outside of our family of faith that make the approaching holidays anything but jovial. There is precious little to celebrate when one is so overwhelmed with grief that simply getting out of bed is a milestone to be reached and passed.

So we find ourselves at the triumphal entry. A passage that, just like the birth passage, begins with a foretelling, and ends with praises being sung to God not by a choir of angels, but of disciples and other, one would hope, in the crowd, who lifted their voices together to sing “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!" Does that sound familiar? We could almost call them bookends to Jesus’ life.

Briefly this morning, I’d like us to stop on the foretelling. That part where Jesus tells the disciples to go into town, and find the colt that has never been ridden, that is tied up, and untie him, and bring it to him.

In an aside that makes the story that much more memorable, Jesus tells the disciples, “if anyone asks you why you’re untying the colt, just tell them ‘the Lord needs it’. So the disciples head off to town, and guess what happens? Exactly what Jesus told them would happen. Down to someone asking why they were untying the colt. It seems a little odd, coming from a 21st century reading of the text, that the writer of Luke notes nothing other than the almost word-for-word correspondence between what was foretold and what was said. I can imagine that the conversation may have gone for a little longer than that which is recorded in the Gospel, and I can just as easily imagine that there was more than just the one question asked, and the one answer given.

It’s kind of that way with us, isn’t it? We’d like to tell every detail of an encounter, but we don’t always have the time, or the energy, to describe in minute detail exactly what happened, and how someone looked, or what they wore, said, or did. We more often than not boil a story down to the most relevant details, or try to, anyway. J

So the writer sticks to the most relevant message: “The Lord needs it”. It is brief, to the point, and specific.

The question though, changes for us:

What is it that we have tied up?

Can we look at our lives and identify things we are keeping from the Lord and his use?

There’s an issue here that I’ll touch on briefly: Does the Lord really actually “NEED” anything from us? We believe in an omnipotent God – an all-powerful God who acts in history and through the majesty of nature … what would God need of us? The short and simple answer is: nothing. The longer and more accurate answer is: everything. God can indeed do as God pleases. God has chosen to allow us the freedom to choose to follow, to engage, to enter into relationship with God. So in a sense, the Lord does need each of us, and of each of us, our all.

A few minutes ago I mentioned all the things that we are involved in or are going to be involved in over the next several weeks … TIME, I think, is an easily identifiable … commodity that we can easily keep from the Lord’s use. We can kid ourselves into thinking that time spent here at church is time dedicated to the Lord, and that would be true to a point, but time dedicated to the Lord is not the same as time with the Lord. So be sure to spend time in prayer, in studying his word, in … communing with the Lord, not only during the holiday season, but throughout the year.

The next thing the Lord needs is our effort. Effort and time are both closely related, but I think slightly different. Again, effort expended and dedicated TO the Lord is not the same as effort expended in SEEKING the Lord. The word is to expend effort not only outwardly, but inwardly as well. WORK at the relationship you have with the Lord, just as you would any relationship here on earth. It takes time to get to know someone. Knowing the Lord is no different.

Lastly, we are getting ready to meet to approve our budget for the next year. Does the Lord need our money? Directly: no. Entering into relationship with God through Jesus is a free gift of grace. There is no monetary price tag on that. However, as we read in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we are the body of Christ, made up of many members, and each member having different gifts. As that body we have decided to congregate and associate here, in this building, on a regular basis. While Christ is the head of this body of believers, and is at the heart of what we do, working as we do in this earthly realm, this … temporal environment, we have made commitments, and have entered into agreements, and have promised to do things in the name of Christ and for his sake that require us to operate on a mundane level – dealing with money both given and spent. So as we approach not only the business meeting in a couple of weeks, ask yourself this question: am I holding back – am I tying up – what the Lord needs of me?

And that becomes the question for Jerusalem Baptist Church for each of us, as we enter the holiday season: What do we have tied up that the Lord needs of us?

Let’s pray.

Gain Your Souls

Sunday, November 14th, 2004
24th after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 21:5-19

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 'As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.' 7 They asked him, 'Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?' 8 And he said, 'Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, "I am he!" and, "The time is near!" Do not go after them. 9 'When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.' 10 Then he said to them, 'Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12 'But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

Sometimes, being a Pastor requires you to go from one extreme of the human emotional spectrum to the other within a short period of time.

Last Saturday evening, while there was a wonderful birthday celebration going on inside the firehouse at Callao for Berenice, outside, there was a sad, stumbling fight going on between a man who had drunk himself almost into a stupor and just about anyone who tried to approach him to try to convince him to let them take him home. I went from taking Berenice on a short spin around the dance floor to stepping toward the man as he was kicking at another man who was trying to get him to settle down and go home and sleep it off.

Sunday, we attended the funeral of William B. Graham, in Irvington. He was an exceptional man.

We came home from that to news of Uncle John Parker's passing. It wasn't unexpected. We had just celebrated his 90th birthday, and he never fully recovered from the party. Kenneth, his youngest son, told me that he went home from the party and got back in bed and, except for a couple of instances where he got up and went to the table for a few minutes at a time, he never got back up out of bed.

On Tuesday afternoon, after stopping in to do my chaplaincy rotation at Riverside, I got a call from one of the ER nurses, asking me to come in. They had a bad situation coming in from Mattaponi, and needed a chaplain on standby. I know Leslie shared with you some if not all the details on Wednesday night. For those of you who were not here then, a woman 33 and a half weeks pregnant with her third child and second son had given birth unexpectedly, and the boy wasn't responding.

I arrived at the hospital within 5 minutes of being called, since we were in the parking lot at Wal-Mart when the call came in. When I walked into the ER, the nurse who had called me explained the situation, and asked me to stand in the entryway to the ambulance bay, to stand near the outer door to trigger the motion sensor to keep the door open when the EMT's got there.

As it turned out, the nurse who came through to meet the ambulance and unload the baby stepped up to the doors, triggered them, and reached up and flipped a switch that locked them open. All I did was stand, and hold a pan with a bag with some stuff in it from the house.

The nurse took the baby and immediately began to do CPR on him. He was tiny, and he didn't move.

They wheeled the mother into one of the empty bays and got her settled onto a gurney. My first impression was "she sure is taking this well." There was very little reaction from her. She was not screaming or crying. In fact, more than anything, she struck me as being angry. I stayed with her, introduced myself as one of the chaplains on call. After a few minutes, I went to check on how the baby was doing. There were no signs of life. I went back and stood by the mother. I asked her if there was anyone I could call for her. She gave me a name of a friend of hers to call. I did, but only got an answering machine.

Over the next few minutes, after going back into her, one of the doctors came over to let her know that it didn't look good. After he left I took her hand and just held it. She didn't say anything, but she began to silently cry. She held onto my hand very tightly.

I asked her if she attended church anywhere. She named a church up in King and Queen, but admitted in the same sentence that she didn't go very often. We had a few more quiet exchanges. Then the doctor came in and asked if she wanted to move into the room where the boy was being worked on. She did, and we got a wheelchair for her and wheeled her across the way. She sat and watched quietly as the nurses and Doctors did everything they could to revive her baby. Finally, the doctor asked her if it was okay for them to stop. She nodded that it was.

The nurses wrapped the baby and brought him over to his mother to hold. We wheeled her back into the bay where she was after she first came in. She held him, and just looked at his little face and cried some more.

Her husband came in then. He was a big man, easily 3 times my size. He broke down as soon as he walked around the curtain. After a few minutes of holding his baby boy, he asked if his mother, who was out in the waiting area, could join them. I went and got her, and as soon as she walked into the bay, you could almost see this 300 lb man become a little boy once again, crying and asking his mommy to "make it better".

Wednesday I drove to Lexington for Uncle John's visitation and funeral. Aunt Edith and he had been married for 7 years. They had just celebrated their 84th month-aversary two weeks before he died. Wednesday evening was filled with people who had come to know Uncle John since he'd moved to Lexington about 10 years ago, as well as good visiting time with David and Kenneth, his sons, and four other missionary aunts and uncles in addition to my parents, who had all gathered with everyone else to pay their respects to Uncle John. The funeral was much more a celebration than a time of mourning. There WAS that, of course, it is a part of any funeral. But the service looked back on a 90 year span of life - for the most part dedicated to the service of the Lord, an unwavering commitment to him and a faithful reflection of God's faithfulness in Uncle John's life.

I'm still trying to fit my brain around the week. To be confronted with the two deaths at opposite ends of the spectrum of human life and to try to bring them into some kind of coherent association, if not understanding, is proving to be difficult at best.

Before leaving the family at the hospital on Wednesday, I asked if I could pray with them, and in my prayer I asked God to help us live with the questions, and to be with us in our asking of them.

Jesus was addressing the questions the disciples had for him at the temple that day. They were commenting on the magnificence of the temple, the beauty of the stones and the gifts that were laid out by people coming to offer their sacrifices. There is a quality unique to the human spirit: curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, a desire to understand. In some way, I think if we understand something, an event, if we gain some perspective on it, grasp some of the factors that played into the outcome, we feel we have somehow managed … a kind of control over it. When faced with that proposition, we would quickly dispel it, realizing that understanding does not imply control, but before that, somehow in knowing "why" we find ourselves more inclined to accept a given event.

That is what was happening with the disciples. Jesus tells them the temple will be destroyed so utterly that not a single stone will be left standing on top of another. Their first reaction is "When? And how can we see it coming?" They were confronted with the possibility of an event that wouldn't even fit in their current understanding. They were sitting surrounded by a building that had stood for as long as any of them could remember. They were reeling, trying to find a reference point from which to begin to build their new understanding of the world. So they fell back on knowing as much as they could about the coming events.

I've heard sermons preached on this passage before, as I'm sure most of you have. As near as I can recall, those sermons primarily focused on the correlating of events listed in the passage with events listed on the front page of the newspapers or in the evening news on television. There may be some truth to that, but I don't think it is the message that Jesus intended us to hear. We are so easily distracted by the trees that we forget there is a forest. We are so consumed with predicting, with knowing, with having an inside track on what is going to come, that we lose sight of our reason for being here in the first place.

Jesus tells us 'Yes, there are going to be terrible things happening, things you can't even imagine. You might be betrayed by family, there'll be terrible natural disasters, there will be wars between nations the likes of which you've never seen, and can't begin to comprehend. You'll be taken prisoner for your faith and taken before judges and governors, people who have a say over whether you'll live or die."

So what does he tell us to do? Look at verse 14:

14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.

That seems counterintuitive. That's a fancy word for 'It doesn't make sense." If you KNOW these things are going to happen, shouldn't you prepare? SHOULDN'T you get clear in your head what you'll say? What's the saying? The best defense is a good offense?

That's the whole point, Jesus is saying. If you prepare, you'll be relying on yourself to see you through. Where is the faith in that?

You are going to see and go through terrible things, things that shake your faith; things that will make you question your basic foundations. You're going to see a family lose a son before they even have a chance to know him. You're going to lose someone on whom you rely for wisdom, and guidance, and encouragement, and you will realize in that losing that your foundation needs not be on assumptions, and people, but on God.

The firmest foundation on which to build our lives is not made of cement, but of blood. If we work for the kingdom, and don't become distracted by these side issues, if we work to build our relationship with Jesus Christ, our foundations will stand.

Let's pray.

Seek and Save

Sunday, October 31st, 2004
22nd after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 19:1-10

1 He entered Jericho and was passing through it. 2 A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. 4 So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. 5 When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, Zacchaeus hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ 6 So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. 7 All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ 8 Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.’ 9 Then Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.’

Zacchaeus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he
He climbed up in the sycamore tree for the Lord he wanted to see
And as the Savior passed that way he looked up in that tree
And he said,” Zacchaeus, you come down!
For I’m going to your house today!
For I’m going to your house today!

How many of us have never heard the story of Zacchaeus?

How many of our earliest impressions of what it means to be a Christian come from nursery rhymes and Sunday school choruses? Can you identify the first time you heard about Jonah and the whale (NOT the big FISH), or Noah and the Ark, Daniel in the lion’s den?

Some stories stick with us. As children, we’re geared to focus in on those aspects of stories we hear with which we can identify … hmm … come to think of it, I suppose the same can be said of us as adults, as HUMANS.

If there’s no common ground, there’s very little to hold our attention, and so we move on – we listen for a couple of minutes and then mentally check out, assuming that there IS no common ground.

Let’s look a little more closely at the story. What is Luke trying to convey with this story – not ONLY in and of itself, but as a part of the tapestry woven together by the different stories that have preceded it and which follow it?

The last half of chapter 18 shapes our understanding of this text:

(18:15-17) First, people bring little children to see Jesus. The disciples rebuke the parents, but Jesus intervenes saying, "Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs".

(18:18-27) Then a rich ruler comes to Jesus asking how he might be saved. He goes away sadly after learning that he will have to sacrifice his riches. Jesus says, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!" Those who hear Jesus ask, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus replies, "What is impossible for mortals is possible for God".

(18:35-43) Then a blind beggar sitting at the side of the road shouts his plea for mercy. The crowd tries to quiet him, but the man persists. Jesus orders the man to be brought to him and declares, "Receive your sight; your faith has saved you".

In each of those instances, Jesus reverses the ordinary. He welcomes children and beggars, but places heavy demands on those whom others would welcome with open arms.

In the case of the rich ruler, Jesus leaves the door ajar. It is difficult for rich people to be saved, but God can save them. This leads naturally into our Gospel lesson, the story of Zacchaeus, a rich man who finds salvation. The rich ruler is too attached to his possessions to give them to the poor. Zacchaeus, on the other hand, voluntarily pledges to give half his possessions to the poor and to make restitution to any whom he has cheated. If he does what he says he will do, he will have voluntarily done what Jesus asked of the rich ruler (18:18-27).

In preparing for the message today, there’s an interesting tidbit of information that was brought out – in verse 8 - It is not clear whether Zacchaeus has defrauded anyone. His verbs, "give" (didomi) and "pay back" (apodidomi) are present tense (rather than future tense as the NRSV translates them) and may indicate that he routinely gives to the poor and offers restitution to those whom he has wronged. In other words, he might be innocent of any wrongdoing, and what we’re dealing with is Jesus making known that fact by publicly associating with Zaccheus. In a very literal sense, Jesus pronounces his blessing on Zaccheus and his household, and it is a transformational experience.

If we were to follow that perspective of the story, the focus changes substantially, but not ultimately.

Last week I referred to Zacchaeus and his "dramatic" turnaround. That is still the generally accepted understanding of the story: that prior to meeting Jesus he was a scoundrel, but that when he met Jesus here, in this story, when Jesus accepted him, trusted him, and sat and ate with him, he in turn learned to accept not only Jesus, but his community as well.

Consider for a moment the possibility that at some point prior to THIS particular encounter, Jesus had already had some influence on Zaccheus. Somewhere along the line, Zacchaeus was standing behind a group of people listening to Jesus speak – and something Jesus said triggered that change that we assume happened at the end of this scene – only before.

The problem is, everyone – and I do mean everyone - in Jericho can’t get past the fact that Zaccheus is the chief tax collector (v 7 – “ALL who saw it began to grumble”).

Typically, a chief tax collector contracted with Romans to collect taxes in a particular town or region, and paid a substantial fee for the franchise. He then subcontracted the actual collection of taxes. His profit was the difference between his franchise fee and the amount of taxes collected. The system was prone to abuse, rewarding tax collectors for excessive collections. If the citizenry rebelled, Roman soldiers stood ready to put down the rebellion (although a tax collector who provoked excessive rebellion risked losing his franchise). Jews despised tax collectors as mercenaries and thieves.

A leopard can’t change its spots, right? So what we’re dealing with here is prejudice. Prejudice on the part of the general population of Jericho towards this diminutive man, who has been fundamentally changed, but no one sees it because they still only think of him as Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector.

That seems to be the whole point of Jesus’ coming. He changes us. Dramatically, drastically, radically, sometimes slowly and sometimes suddenly, but he does change us. What he may be doing here with Zaccheus is broadening that effect.

As chief tax-collector, Zacchaeus was an outsider, a social leper. Jesus brings him inside again, declaring him to be a "son of Abraham," just has he has pronounced the woman crippled with a spirit of infirmity for 18 years a "daughter of Abraham" (13:16).

Zacchaeus is not saved in isolation. Jesus declares that "salvation has come to this house" (oikos -- which in this context implies "household" or "family"). Zacchaeus' salvation will affect the entire community as he provides support for the poor and restitution to those whom he has defrauded. A community could be transformed by the presence of a tax collector whom people can trust.

What does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

Perhaps this story says more about the community of Jericho than it does about Zacchaeus. Perhaps what we need to notice is the reaction of the crowd - and Jesus' actions in spite of them.

Maybe the message for us today is that we are to acknowledge - and celebrate - the transformative power of the Holy Spirit WHEREVER it moves - HOWEVER unlikely a place.

We dare not judge any person hopeless. Whether we are murderers, terrorists, racists, or rapists, gossips, liars, or gluttons, Christ seeks to save us all. Sometimes, against all odds, he succeeds.

Let’s pray.


with deep gratitude to Richard Niell Donovan

Justification


Sunday, October 24th, 2004
21st after Pentecost
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton
Luke 18:9-14

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10‘two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be
exalted.’

There’s a real drawback to growing up hearing the Bible read on a regular basis. I wouldn’t say I’ve been immersed in the Bible, though in comparison, I well might have been. There are still sections – largish ones – that are unfamiliar to me. But for the most part, those sections we most often hear preached on, or read from, are ones that I’ve become accustomed to hearing about.

The drawback is this: familiarity breeds contempt.

I don’t mean I’m contemptuous of the Bible in ANY sense of the word, but it’s the same idea that applies after you’ve written something. You get someone ELSE to proofread it. Because if you try to do it yourself, you’ll miss the obvious mistake because your mind doesn’t catch it as it goes by. You read what you intended to write, and not what you actually wrote.

So this text has been on my screen on the computer for the last week, and I finally sat down to concentrate on the finalization process of the message last night, and read the first part of the introductory sentence, and there it is, plain as day: a disclaimer.

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt

The disclaimer has a purpose. It clues us in to whether we need to be listening or not. If you know you’re NOT righteous, then there’s no need to listen to the parable about to be told. Since we readily admit our own unworthiness, there’s no point in taking up room where someone else could benefit from hearing what is about to be told. So, just excuse me a moment while I mentally check out of hearing range and you just carry right on, Jesus. Tell them what you were getting ready to tell, and I’ll wait over here, where those of us who don’t need to hear this particular parable will be waiting for you.

Hmmm… then in spite of yourself, you start to tune into the rest of the parable, the Pharisee and the Tax Collector … let’s put it in a modern-day context, the Preacher and the Casino Owner … they both walk into the church to pray.

The preacher, in all sincerity, begins his prayer with thanksgiving – thanking God for making him … Holy. For making him a better person than the folks he’s been hearing about in the news recently; thieves, terrorists, pop stars that flaunt their less-than-exemplary lifestyles and laugh at those who try to point out that what they are doing is slowly eroding the fabric of the society in which we live.

He notices out of the corner of his eye the casino owner sitting quietly in the back corner, head bowed. He plows ahead with his prayer of thanksgiving to God for making him better than the Casino Owner there, in the back, everyone KNOWS there’s NO way HE’S going to turn over a new leaf … some people are just beyond reach.

“But I’m different, God, I fast twice a week, I tithe, I go to all the meetings I’m supposed to, say the things I’m supposed to, DO the things I’m supposed to, sing all the right ‘amens’… you can count on me, God, to do my part, and yours as well, for that matter …

Then we have the introduction of the second character. The Casino Owner.

Early in 1981, I was watching an episode of Hill Street Blues. The show broke a lot of new ground in its day. It was one of the first police shows that tried to be true to life insofar as it made the characters – ALL the characters – multidimensional. You got to know that both the policemen and women as well as the crooks and bad guys had both good and bad qualities, warts and halos, as it were. Looking back on some of the episodes today they seem a little more melodramatic than they felt at the time, but in some ways the producers were still working their way out of the old framework.

In the episode, the head sergeant, Esterhaus, is told that an old nemesis of his was caught walking into the precinct, and is down in the holding cell. Apparently the man had been imprisoned for several years, and there was a bitter history between the two. I don’t remember the ex-con’s name, but I remember the scene: Sergeant Esterhaus hesitates and seems to agonize over how to even approach the man – you get the impression that whatever the man was like, he was NOT someone you’d want to get on the wrong side of – and Esterhaus was DEFINITELY on his bad side. Towards the end of the hour, Esterhaus finally makes his way down to the holding area, and the man at first is in the shadows at the back of the cell.

Sgt. Esterhaus steps up to the bars and visibly steeles himself for an explosion of some sort – a ranting, raving, yelling, spitting, and cussing out from his longtime enemy.

It doesn’t happen.

The man steps out of the shadows and he’s decently dressed. His face is clear – clear in the sense that he’s not scowling or frowning, or spitting, for that matter.

I don’t remember his exact words, but the gist of what he says to Esterhaus is this:

“I just wanted to come by and tell you that I’m a changed man. I’m not the same man you put behind bars. I’ve been saved, and Jesus has changed me. I love you and Jesus loves you too.”

Though I’d only been back in the States for a little over 3 months, I’d already gotten used to born again Christians being … maybe not ridiculed, but more often than not being made into caricatures, either portrayed as hypocrites or simple-minded followers of some egomaniacal televangelist.

What was so stunning to me about this portrayal was that it did none of that. Esterhaus’ reaction to him was tentative, but willing to guardedly accept his assertion at face value. We never saw the character again. There’s no subsequent dialogue that throws any doubt on the man’s change. It was left at that. In short, it treated the character as genuine, as honest.

That is what happens in the parable. The Tax collector, an almost-universally reviled person in first-century Palestine, and probably most anywhere else they were found, is presented … unvarnished. There is no spin to be found on him. We find him in the midst of confession, and supplication.

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

And it’s his only line!

He doesn’t go through a radical transformation, at least not in so many words. There’s no resolution to his tax-collector status – not in the same way that Zaccheus is reconciled with those from whom he extorted money. We don’t find this man returning four times what he stole to the people he robbed.

All he does is cry out to God, and admit he is a sinner.

And here’s the capper. Jesus concludes the parable in the very next sentence by telling the people who are listening (remember, they are the ones who ‘trusted in themselves to be righteous and regarded others with contempt’), that the tax collector, not the Pharisee, went home justified. That is, the Casino Owner went home with God’s blessing rather than the Preacher. And in case they didn’t get it, he spells it out for them: ‘for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted’

The two men in the parable were seeking justification before God. That is, they were seeking acceptance from God, seeking, as it were, salvation.

One, the seemingly more righteous of the two – the one who was doing all the “right” things – walks away unjustified. The other, the one whom proper society had turned away from, walks away justified. What’s the difference? As near as I can tell, the difference is in the heart, in the attitude of the heart. The Preacher believes himself capable of bringing something to God in exchange for justification. The Casino Owner recognizes that there is nothing he can bring to God to change HIS condition – nothing, that is, but a contrite heart, a broken spirit, a realization that it is only through the Mercy of God that we can approach the throne of Grace.

What does that mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton?

For one thing, it means that yes, we’re nearing the end of the sermon, but please don’t start shifting into ‘leave’ gear just yet.

What this means for Jerusalem Baptist Church is this: if we are to become a portrait of the kingdom of heaven, we need to be prepared to join in fellowship with people who know themselves to be totally reliant on God’s grace for salvation. We need to remind ourselves that, when all is said and done, on that crucial point there is no distinction between us. There is none more righteous than another. There are only receivers of the free gift of God through faith – as Paul says, lest anyone should boast. We boast in the grace of the one who calls us to himself.

Let’s pray.