TO LISTEN
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/dont_fear.mp3
Why do you say O Jacob, and speak O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God?”
I’d like to talk about today’s reading from Isaiah, but first, a little trivia. What is the most frequent command in scripture? I’ll give you a few seconds to think about it. Did you guess to be more loving? Even though love is God’s goal for human life and existence, the command to love is not God’s most frequent instruction. Perhaps you guessed to be more humble? After all, theologians insist that pride is at the root of all sin, but interestingly the Bible’s most frequent imperative says nothing about gaining humility. Did you guess something to do with money or sex or honesty? If so your guess was wrong. The most common command in the Bible is formulated in four simple words: Do not be afraid.
Now, why does God command us not to fear? Last time I checked, fear was not on the list of Seven Deadly sins, and so why does God command us not to fear? The answer is actually quite simple. The words do not be afraid are so common in Scripture because fear is the number one reason that we fail to trust God. Behind every act of disobedience and every failure to trust God fear is always lurking.
Now, I don’t mean to say that fear is always bad. Fear can be quite good, like when a child fears touching a hot stove or when a teenager fears driving drunk. But the problem is that for most of us, fear arrives as an unwelcome guest. Fear can easily become paralyzing instead of motivating, habitual instead of sporadic. In fact, we have a name for people that constantly live in fear. We call them worriers, and people that constantly worry have a hard time trusting God. And for this reason, God’s most frequent command is, do not be afraid.
Today’s reading from Isaiah was originally written to people wrestling with fear, that is Israelite exiles being held captive in Babylon. The Babylonians have overthrown them and the whole nation is in ruin. The people are in exile and surrounded by enemies. And for this reason the people of Israel are terrified. But not only that, they feel forgotten. “My way is hidden from the Lord,” they say, “and my right is disregarded by my God.” And so that’s the background. The people of Israel feel alone, they feel abandoned, and they are terrified.
Now, perhaps we have never had our homes burned and our land conquered, but we all know that we still live in a world where these things happen. And yes, we may be shielded from someone else tearing our homes and families apart, but many of us have experienced homes and families that have been torn apart from the inside. Many of us feel uprooted, uncertain about the future, fearful in the present, and guilty about the past. And so I think today’s reading is incredibly relevant for us all, because not one of us is immune to fear. We all have our moments – our moments when we’re terrified that God is not really big enough to take care of us, or when we don’t really feel safe in God’s hands. We all have our moments when we feel God has left us, or was never with us, and that we have to fend for ourselves. We all know what it’s like to feel fear, and some of us know what it’s like to feel abandoned.
Maybe you feel that way right now here at Holy Spirit. In the last two months you lost two beloved priests and leaders. And yes – you do have a wonderful interim that’s competent and faithful – but Bill’s here for a season, not to do the work of ministry for you, but to challenge you and lead you and comfort you and uphold you as you, the people of Holy Spirit, take responsibility for this Church and proactively step into the future that God invites you into. But that might feel scary. “My way is hidden from the Lord,” you might groan, “and my right is disregarded by my God.” To say you’re terrified might be dramatic, but I imagine there’s a little anxiety, a little fear, and that it has crept up into your life as an unwelcome guest.
Well, in the midst of Israel’s fear, and in the midst of ours, comes the command of the Living God. You see in Isaiah 41:10, when God’s speech actually ends – our lectionary cuts it off prematurely – this is what God says: “do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God.”
In other words, God’s word to Israel is “be strong. Be courageous. I actually know what I’m doing here. You can trust me, O my people, for I am with you.” You see it’s not that God takes away all of their problems, and frankly if we keep reading things get worse before they get better; but the message of Isaiah is that God is working in midst of their exile.
And as Christians, we need look no farther than the cross to know the paradox of God’s power. Not only is God able, but God delights in bringing about unimaginable good from what we experience to be exile. The people of Israel experience difficulty and hardship and a whole lot of fear, but Isaiah’s point is that they’re not to be paralyzed by fear. When fear arrives as an unwelcome guest, they are to remember the promise of God. Do not be afraid, God says, for I am with you.
And of course, the promise of God hasn’t changed. When God becomes human in the person of Jesus, you might recall the words of the angel: “and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, God is with us.” And after Jesus rises from the dead, you might recall Jesus’ final words spoken to his disciples: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” The same word God speaks to Israel God speaks to each one of us, and to this parish, at this time, in particular.
Because – frankly, you have work to do. Bill’s work is to support you and equip you in your work. But this is an important time for Holy Spirit. As I said last time I was here, and this is a quote from my last sermon from this pulpit, it’s not a time “to be gloomy or sad or scared. It’s a time to be intentionally hopeful. It’s a time to expect. It’s a time to prepare for the new thing God wants to do in our midst. It’s a time to prepare for the new thing God wants to do in this community.”
And so really quickly, here’s what I’d like to leave you with; 2 challenges, and a word of comfort.
First, resolve to be a leader at this parish, at this time. Get involved. Identify your spiritual gifts, and put them to use! And hold other people accountable for using theirs. As v.31 puts it, “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,” but the waiting Isaiah speaks of is an active waiting, a proactive waiting. And so resolve to be a leader in whatever way you know how.
Second, from v.26, “life up your eyes from on high and see.” In other words, pray. Make prayer a part of your life. A lot of unnecessary fear results from where our eyes are focused. Are our eyes focused down below, on our circumstances, on how hard we imagine the road will be, are our eyes focused on “Babylon,” or, are our eyes lifted on high? Think of Peter walking on water. When Peter’s eyes were focused on Jesus, he could do it, but when he looked down and saw the waves, that’s the moment he began to sink.
And so let me just end by giving you a quote from C.S. Lewis. “People do not need to be instructed,” Lewis said, “They need to be reminded.” Today we can all be reminded that God really is big enough to take care of us. Today we can all be reminded that we really are safe in God’s hands. Today we can all be reminded that God has acted through the person of Jesus to restore all things to Himself, and that because of God’s initiative we do not need to fend for ourselves. Finally, in light of these truths, we can all be reminded of our God’s most frequent command to His frightened children. Do not be afraid.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
authenticity (from a christian perspective)
TO LISTEN ONLINE
http://johnnewton.libsyn.com/authenticity
Mark 1: 14-20
I’ve been invited to preach this morning on one of your core values – authenticity. But I can’t help but reference the Gospel because it’s about fishing and Bert, as you may know, is a pretty good fisherman. And whenever I’ve been fishing with Bert it’s always “catch and release,” which, as you know, is when you take some bait, deceive a fish, catch that fish, hold the fish, measure the fish, nearly suffocate the fish, so that you can admire the fish, only to hurl the fish back into the water to be humiliated in front of its family and friends. Sometimes the decision of whether or not to keep the fish is made on the spot. Strong fish are kept, weak ones are not. Now, maybe I’m projecting my own insecurities onto these poor fish, but I can’t help but think that this process of being caught, evaluated, and then released takes its toll on a fish’s soul. I mean, there have to be a few lakes out there where the fish suffer from low self-esteem and bad attitudes because no one wants to keep them. Is it me? Am I not a keeper? Does no one want me? Why did they let me go?
You see what these fish need is to come to St. Mark’s and learn to be more authentic, so that their sense of self isn’t dependent on whether or not some beer-bellied fisherman thinks they’re good enough. And that’s what Bert asked me to preach about this morning – authenticity. To quote your vision, “we are an authentic people, true to our Christian identity, and genuinely thankful for the gift of our gathering and for the sacred space of our church.” And so authenticity; that’s the subject matter of today’s sermon. What does it mean to be authentic?
Well, the word authentic means “not false or copied.” And so when we speak of an authentic Picasso we’re talking about an original Picasso and not some cheap imitation. And while the Bible never uses the word authenticity, the Bible is concerned that we live lives that are true and faithful to how God uniquely designed us. For example, Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees was that they were “hypocrites,” a Greek word that means “play actor.” And when Jesus sees Nathaniel in John chapter one he says, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is nothing false!” And so Jesus is quite concerned that we live authentic lives and that we become our “true selves.” But what does that mean – what does it mean to be authentic?
Well, before we can look at what authenticity is we need to be clear about what it’s not; because if we were to ask the “world” how one becomes an authentic person the answer is simple: just look inside. Don’t look anywhere else. Your true self is perfectly intact and is found right in here. I came across a Facebook group this week by the name of, “I march to the beat of my own drum, so if you don’t like the tempo, move on,” which I think captures our world’s view of authenticity quite well. Or as Shakespeare put it, “this above all – to thine own self be true.” Or as Katy Perry put it, “Baby you’re a firework, come on let your colors burst.” But either way, the world’s message is the same. If we want to be authentic, we have to look within and be “true,” above all else, to what we find and then to let what we find come out. Authenticity is found inside of us – that’s the mantra of our world.
I just have one question. What do we do when we look inside only to find a “self” that wants to lie or cheat or procrastinate or worse? Or when we look within only to find a circus of fears, mixed motives, and prejudices? For example, when my duty is to love my wife but from within arises a feeling of love and warmth for another woman should I be “authentic” to that true self? You see we’re not really as unique as we like to think because whenever we look deep within we find not that which is true but a train wreck of what our family, culture, heredity, and the mass media have told us to be. And Jesus’ invitation to us is not, “look inside and be that!” But as he says in today’s Gospel, it’s “follow me, and I’ll make you something else than you are right now.”
You see unlike our world, which says, “if you want to be authentic you’ve got to look inside yourself,” Jesus says, “if you want to be authentic you’ve got to look outside yourself.” As Jesus himself said, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” And this word we translate life, it comes from the Greek word psyche, and is also translated soul. And so it’s a word that captures that part of our self that is real – not false or copied – but authentic. The Message, a contemporary translation of the Bible, translates the word psyche as “true self.” And so Jesus’ approach to finding our true, authentic self could not be more provocative. If we look for Jesus, we find both Him and our authentic, true self. In other words, authenticity is the byproduct of seeking Christ. After all, Jesus didn’t say “blessed is the one who hungers and thirsts after blessedness,” but “blessed is the one who hungers and thirsts after righteousness.” And so if we want to be authentic we’ve got to look outside ourselves.
And so once again, what does it mean to be authentic?
First, live for Jesus. This is, after all, what baptism is all about – a pledge to find our life in Him. Baptism is a pledge to live not for ourselves for the Him who died for us. You see the mystery of our faith is that we were all created as unique, authentic bearers of God’s image, that this image has been significantly blurred in each one of us by sin, and that to be restored to our true, authentic self we have to go to the only Surgeon that knows how to fix us – and that’s Jesus.
This is how C.S. Lewis puts it. “The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of little Christ’s, all different, will still be too few to express Him full. He made them all. He invented – as an author invents characters in a novel – all the different men that you and I were intended to be. In that sense our real selves are all waiting for us in Him.” In other words, if we live for Jesus He will show us what it means to live an authentic life.
Second, take your place in Jesus’ body. You see authenticity isn’t like love – something that has value in and of itself, but rather it’s always in service to the Body of Christ and the mission of the church, where if one member isn’t doing its part the whole Body suffers. You see the Bible compares the Church to a Body where each one of us has a specific, distinct and vital function. Authenticity is about coming to grips with our unique contribution to the Body of Christ. And so just as each and every one of you has a unique role to play in this particular parish, so this parish has a unique role to play in our diocese.
Now, today we’re obviously just scratching the surface when it comes to discerning what it means to be authentic people. And ultimately it’s work that only you can do. But as you go about this work, just remember – Jesus is not a catch and release fisherman. He has taken hold of your life and will stop at nothing until His in you in complete. As Isaiah once put it, “we are the clay, God is the Potter and we are all the work of His hand.”
We are all the work of someone’s hand. Authenticity is what happens when we let the Maker make us into what He had in mind in creating us. It’s about knowing that our sense of self is tied to not what we accomplish but to what Christ has accomplished for us. It’s about knowing that we are each and original and so that we don’t try and play a part that doesn’t suit us. Authenticity is a gift of the Spirit.
In happens slowly as we worship, read the Bible, pray, discern, and strive to follow Jesus. But it does happen. And as it does our life and our community become more compelling, and as our community becomes more compelling it grows – in numbers and in depth.
And so as you go about this important work, I’m going to end by leaving you again with something CS Lewis said.
“Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”
http://johnnewton.libsyn.com/authenticity
Mark 1: 14-20
I’ve been invited to preach this morning on one of your core values – authenticity. But I can’t help but reference the Gospel because it’s about fishing and Bert, as you may know, is a pretty good fisherman. And whenever I’ve been fishing with Bert it’s always “catch and release,” which, as you know, is when you take some bait, deceive a fish, catch that fish, hold the fish, measure the fish, nearly suffocate the fish, so that you can admire the fish, only to hurl the fish back into the water to be humiliated in front of its family and friends. Sometimes the decision of whether or not to keep the fish is made on the spot. Strong fish are kept, weak ones are not. Now, maybe I’m projecting my own insecurities onto these poor fish, but I can’t help but think that this process of being caught, evaluated, and then released takes its toll on a fish’s soul. I mean, there have to be a few lakes out there where the fish suffer from low self-esteem and bad attitudes because no one wants to keep them. Is it me? Am I not a keeper? Does no one want me? Why did they let me go?
You see what these fish need is to come to St. Mark’s and learn to be more authentic, so that their sense of self isn’t dependent on whether or not some beer-bellied fisherman thinks they’re good enough. And that’s what Bert asked me to preach about this morning – authenticity. To quote your vision, “we are an authentic people, true to our Christian identity, and genuinely thankful for the gift of our gathering and for the sacred space of our church.” And so authenticity; that’s the subject matter of today’s sermon. What does it mean to be authentic?
Well, the word authentic means “not false or copied.” And so when we speak of an authentic Picasso we’re talking about an original Picasso and not some cheap imitation. And while the Bible never uses the word authenticity, the Bible is concerned that we live lives that are true and faithful to how God uniquely designed us. For example, Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees was that they were “hypocrites,” a Greek word that means “play actor.” And when Jesus sees Nathaniel in John chapter one he says, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is nothing false!” And so Jesus is quite concerned that we live authentic lives and that we become our “true selves.” But what does that mean – what does it mean to be authentic?
Well, before we can look at what authenticity is we need to be clear about what it’s not; because if we were to ask the “world” how one becomes an authentic person the answer is simple: just look inside. Don’t look anywhere else. Your true self is perfectly intact and is found right in here. I came across a Facebook group this week by the name of, “I march to the beat of my own drum, so if you don’t like the tempo, move on,” which I think captures our world’s view of authenticity quite well. Or as Shakespeare put it, “this above all – to thine own self be true.” Or as Katy Perry put it, “Baby you’re a firework, come on let your colors burst.” But either way, the world’s message is the same. If we want to be authentic, we have to look within and be “true,” above all else, to what we find and then to let what we find come out. Authenticity is found inside of us – that’s the mantra of our world.
I just have one question. What do we do when we look inside only to find a “self” that wants to lie or cheat or procrastinate or worse? Or when we look within only to find a circus of fears, mixed motives, and prejudices? For example, when my duty is to love my wife but from within arises a feeling of love and warmth for another woman should I be “authentic” to that true self? You see we’re not really as unique as we like to think because whenever we look deep within we find not that which is true but a train wreck of what our family, culture, heredity, and the mass media have told us to be. And Jesus’ invitation to us is not, “look inside and be that!” But as he says in today’s Gospel, it’s “follow me, and I’ll make you something else than you are right now.”
You see unlike our world, which says, “if you want to be authentic you’ve got to look inside yourself,” Jesus says, “if you want to be authentic you’ve got to look outside yourself.” As Jesus himself said, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” And this word we translate life, it comes from the Greek word psyche, and is also translated soul. And so it’s a word that captures that part of our self that is real – not false or copied – but authentic. The Message, a contemporary translation of the Bible, translates the word psyche as “true self.” And so Jesus’ approach to finding our true, authentic self could not be more provocative. If we look for Jesus, we find both Him and our authentic, true self. In other words, authenticity is the byproduct of seeking Christ. After all, Jesus didn’t say “blessed is the one who hungers and thirsts after blessedness,” but “blessed is the one who hungers and thirsts after righteousness.” And so if we want to be authentic we’ve got to look outside ourselves.
And so once again, what does it mean to be authentic?
First, live for Jesus. This is, after all, what baptism is all about – a pledge to find our life in Him. Baptism is a pledge to live not for ourselves for the Him who died for us. You see the mystery of our faith is that we were all created as unique, authentic bearers of God’s image, that this image has been significantly blurred in each one of us by sin, and that to be restored to our true, authentic self we have to go to the only Surgeon that knows how to fix us – and that’s Jesus.
This is how C.S. Lewis puts it. “The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of little Christ’s, all different, will still be too few to express Him full. He made them all. He invented – as an author invents characters in a novel – all the different men that you and I were intended to be. In that sense our real selves are all waiting for us in Him.” In other words, if we live for Jesus He will show us what it means to live an authentic life.
Second, take your place in Jesus’ body. You see authenticity isn’t like love – something that has value in and of itself, but rather it’s always in service to the Body of Christ and the mission of the church, where if one member isn’t doing its part the whole Body suffers. You see the Bible compares the Church to a Body where each one of us has a specific, distinct and vital function. Authenticity is about coming to grips with our unique contribution to the Body of Christ. And so just as each and every one of you has a unique role to play in this particular parish, so this parish has a unique role to play in our diocese.
Now, today we’re obviously just scratching the surface when it comes to discerning what it means to be authentic people. And ultimately it’s work that only you can do. But as you go about this work, just remember – Jesus is not a catch and release fisherman. He has taken hold of your life and will stop at nothing until His in you in complete. As Isaiah once put it, “we are the clay, God is the Potter and we are all the work of His hand.”
We are all the work of someone’s hand. Authenticity is what happens when we let the Maker make us into what He had in mind in creating us. It’s about knowing that our sense of self is tied to not what we accomplish but to what Christ has accomplished for us. It’s about knowing that we are each and original and so that we don’t try and play a part that doesn’t suit us. Authenticity is a gift of the Spirit.
In happens slowly as we worship, read the Bible, pray, discern, and strive to follow Jesus. But it does happen. And as it does our life and our community become more compelling, and as our community becomes more compelling it grows – in numbers and in depth.
And so as you go about this important work, I’m going to end by leaving you again with something CS Lewis said.
“Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Jesus' Stone Pillow, and ours
A sermon on John 1: 43-51
TO LISTEN ONLINE:
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/stonepillow.mp3
There’s a lot of wisdom in today’s Gospel about what discipleship is about, which isn’t so much about accepting God or believing the right truths about God or even doing certain things for God, but it’s about the life transformation that happens whenever we know God.
That’s what today’s Gospel is about – Nathanael coming to know God for the first time. And so here’s the question I’d like to ask this morning. What happened in Nathaniel’s life and what has to happen in ours for us to know God and be transformed?
Now first a little background, because today’s Gospel is actually alluding to and building on another story from Genesis 28; And that’s the story of Jacob running away from his brother Esau. Now as you may recall Jacob didn’t have what we’d call a really stable family life. Jacob blackmailed Esau and stole his birthright; Esau then made plans to kill Jacob and Jacob was forced to run away from home. And when Jacob fled he had nothing. In fact, he fell asleep that first night with his head on a stone – a symbol for how hard his life had become. And so Jacob is alone and feels utterly forsaken. But that night Jacob has a dream on that stone pillow, where God stands at Jacob’s side, and tells Jacob that God is calling Him, and in that dream Jacob sees a ladder that connects heaven and earth, with angels ascending and descending on top of it. And so it was actually that night, in Jacob’s weakest, most desperate moment, at his very worst, as he slept on a stone, that he saw the heavens opened and God Himself standing at His side.
And then there’s Nathaniel. Like Jacob, his life is not going well. I mean, something had to happen in Nathaniel’s life that made him the sour, curmudgeon that he is. When told that the Messiah’s been found in Nazareth, he sneers. “Nazareth? That back water place? Where they watch NASCAR and wear wife beaters and where everyone’s related?” “Forget the Messiah,” he says, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Personally, I think he was depressed – not because he’s cynical, but because of what Jesus says to him. “Nathanael, I saw what happened under that fig tree just before Philip called you.” And because Nathanael immediately worships him as the Son of God, we can safely infer that whatever happened under that fig tree was so personal and so private that for Jesus to have seen it and still welcome him was enough to melt his heart. Maybe he had a panic attack or a moment of excessive guilt or threw up a weepy prayer of last resort. But because Jesus goes out of his way to allude to Jacob’s dream, we can safely infer that whatever happened under that fig tree was a low point in Nathaniel’s life, his “stone pillow” that no one else knew about. But when it dawned on Nathaniel that Jesus knew about it, and that Jesus understood, well, that’s what I think changed his life.
Do we know what Nathaniel and Jacob did? That Jesus Christ sees us under our fig tree; that God stands beside us on our stone pillow, that Jesus knows us at our worst and yet still delights in calling us?
CS Lewis was once asked by a group of his colleagues at Oxford about the uniqueness of Christianity. He responded with a single word. “Grace.”
Christianity is about grace. Jesus isn’t a talent scout looking for strong moral athletes to help his team win. In fact, Jesus does not ask us to change the world. But he does ask us if we’re willing to let Him change our world. And that’s why Jesus isn’t looking for people that know they’re strong but people who understand that they’re weak, and who are willing how to live in this world relying on His strength. And that’s why it’s a spiritually dangerous thing to forget that we too have a stone pillow. You see it is out of that weakness that we hear the call of God.
There’s a humbling verse in the Book of Revelation where Jesus is pleading with the church because they’re rich and prospering and think they need nothing. And Jesus says, “You forget that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked.” You forget, he says, that Christianity is about grace.
And that’s something easily forgotten in today’s world. It’s easy to stay pre-occupied with projects and people and pop-culture and our performance to live an entire life without ever knowing that, spiritually speaking, we’re a beggar. And if we miss our stone pillow we at the same time miss the Savior that stands beside it – the One who knows us at our worst and yet still delights in calling us.
I mean, have you ever noticed that the Gospels only have two “stock characters?” There’s the religious rule-keepers. I’m thinking of the Pharisees, Scribes, temple officials, etc. And this group is always portrayed as judgmental, joyless, critical, and legalistic. Always; And on the other hand there’s the desperate – the “morally, socially and physically despondent.” These are the prostitutes, tax collectors, the blind, the lame, the leper, the prisoner, the demon-possessed, and the Gentile. And the second group knows really well what their stone pillow is, and they know that Jesus knows about it, and that He loves them and calls them. And their response is always like Nathaniel! Rabbi, you are the Son of God!
You see the great mystery of our faith is not that Jesus stands beside us on our stone pillow, as wonderful as that is. The mystery of our faith is that Jesus knows what it’s like to fall asleep on that stone – whatever “our stone” happens to be.
And that’s the irony of today’s Gospel. Jesus origin wasn’t Nazareth but as the pre-existent Word that became flesh is true origin is with God. And yet the scandal of our faith is that he entered our world not as a general or a philosopher or a king but as a carpenter; that Jesus was born not in a palace but a feeding trough. You see Jesus knew what it was like to fall asleep on a stone.
“Foxes have holes, birds have nests,” he said, “but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Jesus was homeless. He was abandoned. And as He took His last breath on the cross not one person stood beside Him, as he bore in his body the sins of the world. Not even the Father He so loved and relied on. In other words, Jesus became wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked so that in Him we might be rich and prosper and need nothing.
And to the extent that we know that, we’ll trust Jesus enough to let him show us our fig tree, our stone pillow – a metaphor for our weakness, our fears, our mistakes, our prejudices, and our sins. Because – the “me” that Jesus loves is not the same “me” I now see. As St. Paul put it, “now we see in a mirror dimly.” But not Jesus – he sees us as we are, at our very worst, and yet that’s the person Jesus delights in calling; that’s the person Jesus longs to transform.
And you know what the irony of all this is? Today’s Gospel isn’t just about discipleship, it’s also about evangelism. It’s about becoming the type of person and the type of church that lives in this world with a message, “come and see.” Come and see someone that sees you. Come and see someone that loves you. Come and see someone that stands beside you. As someone once put it, “Evangelism is just one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.” I mean, isn’t that what Philip did for Nathanael?
“Very truly, I tell you,” Jesus said to Nathaniel, “you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”
What happened in Nathaniel’s life and what has to happen in ours for us to know God and be transformed? Well, here’s what I’d offer. There is a ladder that connects heaven and earth; and it isn’t a ladder we climb up, it’s a ladder that God’s climbed down so that He could live and die as one of us and to save us. What this means is that we do not need to save ourselves, or to hide from ourselves, or to hide from God. Jesus sees us under our fig tree. Jesus stands beside us on our stone pillow. Jesus knows us at our worst, and he knows us at our best, and yet still delights in calling us.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Why was Jesus baptized?
A sermon on Mark 1: 4-11
http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=193217200
To listen to audio version:
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/gracesermon.mp3
Today the Episcopal Church celebrates “the Baptism of our Lord,” which also happens to be the focus of today’s Gospel reading from Mark. Here’s the question I’d like to frame today’s sermon – why? Why was Jesus Christ baptized?
Because frankly it’s a problem; baptism is for people who identify with sinners. According to Mark, John proclaimed a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Baptism is for sinners and according to the Bible that’s not what Jesus was. According to John, he’s not worthy to touch Jesus’ sandals. Baptism is about entering God’s life, but Jesus is God. Baptism’s about being cleansed from sin, but Jesus knew no sin. And so again, why was Jesus baptized? And what, if anything, does his baptism mean for our own?
Now, a little background; Today’s Gospel records the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. The past few years he’s lived quietly as a carpenter. It’s today, for the first time, that Jesus goes public as Israel’s Messiah and this baptism is Jesus’ manifesto.
“If elected president, what’s the first thing you’ll do?” If you’ve been watching the presidential debates you’ll notice how often that question’s asked. Because the question’s more of a symbol than anything; what will your presidency be about? What are you going to do on day number one? And so what today’s Gospel actually looks back on is Jesus’ first day in office where a public, symbolic statement is made about what His government or His Kingdom will be about. And Jesus’ statement was a symbolic one. He chose to be baptized.
Now, to help us understand what’s happening I’d like to tell you the story of a guy named father Damian, a young Belgian priest that lived in the late 19th century with a ministry to lepers. In the 1860’s the Hawaiian legislature passed the “Act to Prevent the Spread of Leprosy,” which resulted in about 8,000 people being banished to a leper colony. And so Father Damian, though not a leper himself, left the comfort of where he was and made his home among the lepers. And for the next twenty or so years Father Damien served these sick, banished, forgotten people. He embraced them. He loved them. He got close. And on a Sunday morning in 1885 Fr. Damien opened his sermon not with the customary “Brethren” but with two simple words: we lepers. “In other words, I’m not here to stand above you. But I’m here to stand with you in your disease.”
When Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan River, where the scum of humanity went to repent, Jesus Christ made a similar statement. We sinners. This is the statement Jesus made on his first day in office – that as God’s Messiah he would identify fully with sinful humanity. You see, unlike our baptism, which fully identifies us with God; Jesus’ baptism unveiled God’s quest to fully identify with man. In other words, I think Jesus knew what he was put on earth to do, and as Oswald Chambers once put it, “at His baptism [Jesus] visibly and distinctly and historically took upon Him His vocation.” Now what this all means is that the point of Jesus’ ministry was not to set a good example – as if a role model were all we needed; nor did Jesus come to teach us how to love, as if the world had never heard of it. But in his baptism what Jesus actually did was preach a two word sermon. We lepers. We sinners. I am not here to stand above you. But I’m here to stand with you in your disease.”
There’s a second century theologian by the name of Iranaeus who said something that really captures what I’m getting at. “Out of his boundless love, Christ became what we are, so that we might become what He is.” Or as St. Paul put it in 2nd Corinthians, “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” In other words, Christ became what we are for a purpose – to make us beloved children of God like Himself.
Now, this is where our own baptismal identity comes into play. You see the words the Father spoke to Jesus – “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” – aren’t these the words each one of us longs to hear? We build our lives around hearing these words! How can I be accepted? How can I be loved? What must I do for people to be pleased with me? And the world’s answer is simple. Do something that’s pleasing. Be funny. Be smart. Get a tattoo. Make money. Be outgoing. Don’t have a bad game. Do something that makes you worthy! Stand out, be unique, make a difference, don’t be boring, do something pleasing, and only then will you be accepted and loved. Maybe. That’s the way our world orders things. Do something pleasing first. Experience love and belong second.
What our baptism does, and what Jesus’ baptism represents, is a complete reversal of that order. We say know that you’re loved and that you belong, and to the extent that you know you will live a life that’s pleasing to God.
And that’s why it is a good and fitting thing that we baptize infants. Before they do anything good we mark them as Christ’s own forever. We tell them they’re beloved sons and daughters of God and that, because they are in Christ, that God is so very pleased with them. And you know what? Sin, anxiety and fear – these are really nothing more than symptoms of us forgetting that we belong to God, that in Christ God identifies with us fully taking even our sin upon His own back. That is, after all, what the cross is all about – God making Him who knew no sin to become sin for us, so that in Him we might become the beloved of God. “Out of his boundless love, Christ became what we are, so that we might become what He is.”
And so it’s a fitting thing to celebrate the baptism of Jesus. Because on His first day in office, by choosing to be baptized, what Jesus did was replace traditional religion with the Gospel. Your see religion says, “Do something well pleasing, and then maybe you’ll be acceptable.” But the Gospel says that in Christ we’re acceptable, and that to the extent that we grasp our beloved-ness we’ll please God as a byproduct. Religion is about morality and our faithfulness. The Gospel is about grace and God’s faithfulness. Religion is a wagging finder that screams, “try harder!” The Gospel is Jesus in the Jordan saying, “We lepers.”
There’s a great verse in the Book of Isaiah that says, “surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; he was wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.” Now as Christians, we believe that this verse was meant to point to Jesus. But here’s the reason I share it. Going back to Father Damien, by the time he actually died Fr. Damien had contacted leprously. Could he have taken some sanitary measures to prevent that? I suppose he could. But what Father Damien felt called to do was to give these sick, banished and forgotten people something that had been lost: dignity, worth, love, belonging, and a sense that someone was “well pleased” enough with them to embrace them, to love them and to get close. But if that was to happen, metaphorically speaking, Father Damien had to stand with them in the Jordan. Out of his boundless love, Damien became what they were, lepers, so that that they might become what He is, fully human. God made Fr. Damien who knew no leprously to be a leper for them, so that in Damien’s presence they might experience a dignity, love and belonging they had never known before.
Why was Jesus baptized? Well, I suppose that all depends on how we view our selves. If all we really need is a good example or a little ego boost and we assume that’s what Jesus provides, than I don’t know. But if Jesus was right – if “those who are well have no need of a physician but only those who are sick” – if despite the myriad ways we try to convince the world that we’re all just fine what we really need is a savior – than Jesus’ baptism is nothing less than God, the ultimate Public Servant, making a statement to the world that he came to embrace us, love us, get close, and bear our disease for us, even to the point of dying on a cross.
You see baptism is for people that identity with sinners. And thank God that Jesus was someone that did.
http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=193217200
To listen to audio version:
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/gracesermon.mp3
Today the Episcopal Church celebrates “the Baptism of our Lord,” which also happens to be the focus of today’s Gospel reading from Mark. Here’s the question I’d like to frame today’s sermon – why? Why was Jesus Christ baptized?
Because frankly it’s a problem; baptism is for people who identify with sinners. According to Mark, John proclaimed a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Baptism is for sinners and according to the Bible that’s not what Jesus was. According to John, he’s not worthy to touch Jesus’ sandals. Baptism is about entering God’s life, but Jesus is God. Baptism’s about being cleansed from sin, but Jesus knew no sin. And so again, why was Jesus baptized? And what, if anything, does his baptism mean for our own?
Now, a little background; Today’s Gospel records the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. The past few years he’s lived quietly as a carpenter. It’s today, for the first time, that Jesus goes public as Israel’s Messiah and this baptism is Jesus’ manifesto.
“If elected president, what’s the first thing you’ll do?” If you’ve been watching the presidential debates you’ll notice how often that question’s asked. Because the question’s more of a symbol than anything; what will your presidency be about? What are you going to do on day number one? And so what today’s Gospel actually looks back on is Jesus’ first day in office where a public, symbolic statement is made about what His government or His Kingdom will be about. And Jesus’ statement was a symbolic one. He chose to be baptized.
Now, to help us understand what’s happening I’d like to tell you the story of a guy named father Damian, a young Belgian priest that lived in the late 19th century with a ministry to lepers. In the 1860’s the Hawaiian legislature passed the “Act to Prevent the Spread of Leprosy,” which resulted in about 8,000 people being banished to a leper colony. And so Father Damian, though not a leper himself, left the comfort of where he was and made his home among the lepers. And for the next twenty or so years Father Damien served these sick, banished, forgotten people. He embraced them. He loved them. He got close. And on a Sunday morning in 1885 Fr. Damien opened his sermon not with the customary “Brethren” but with two simple words: we lepers. “In other words, I’m not here to stand above you. But I’m here to stand with you in your disease.”
When Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan River, where the scum of humanity went to repent, Jesus Christ made a similar statement. We sinners. This is the statement Jesus made on his first day in office – that as God’s Messiah he would identify fully with sinful humanity. You see, unlike our baptism, which fully identifies us with God; Jesus’ baptism unveiled God’s quest to fully identify with man. In other words, I think Jesus knew what he was put on earth to do, and as Oswald Chambers once put it, “at His baptism [Jesus] visibly and distinctly and historically took upon Him His vocation.” Now what this all means is that the point of Jesus’ ministry was not to set a good example – as if a role model were all we needed; nor did Jesus come to teach us how to love, as if the world had never heard of it. But in his baptism what Jesus actually did was preach a two word sermon. We lepers. We sinners. I am not here to stand above you. But I’m here to stand with you in your disease.”
There’s a second century theologian by the name of Iranaeus who said something that really captures what I’m getting at. “Out of his boundless love, Christ became what we are, so that we might become what He is.” Or as St. Paul put it in 2nd Corinthians, “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” In other words, Christ became what we are for a purpose – to make us beloved children of God like Himself.
Now, this is where our own baptismal identity comes into play. You see the words the Father spoke to Jesus – “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” – aren’t these the words each one of us longs to hear? We build our lives around hearing these words! How can I be accepted? How can I be loved? What must I do for people to be pleased with me? And the world’s answer is simple. Do something that’s pleasing. Be funny. Be smart. Get a tattoo. Make money. Be outgoing. Don’t have a bad game. Do something that makes you worthy! Stand out, be unique, make a difference, don’t be boring, do something pleasing, and only then will you be accepted and loved. Maybe. That’s the way our world orders things. Do something pleasing first. Experience love and belong second.
What our baptism does, and what Jesus’ baptism represents, is a complete reversal of that order. We say know that you’re loved and that you belong, and to the extent that you know you will live a life that’s pleasing to God.
And that’s why it is a good and fitting thing that we baptize infants. Before they do anything good we mark them as Christ’s own forever. We tell them they’re beloved sons and daughters of God and that, because they are in Christ, that God is so very pleased with them. And you know what? Sin, anxiety and fear – these are really nothing more than symptoms of us forgetting that we belong to God, that in Christ God identifies with us fully taking even our sin upon His own back. That is, after all, what the cross is all about – God making Him who knew no sin to become sin for us, so that in Him we might become the beloved of God. “Out of his boundless love, Christ became what we are, so that we might become what He is.”
And so it’s a fitting thing to celebrate the baptism of Jesus. Because on His first day in office, by choosing to be baptized, what Jesus did was replace traditional religion with the Gospel. Your see religion says, “Do something well pleasing, and then maybe you’ll be acceptable.” But the Gospel says that in Christ we’re acceptable, and that to the extent that we grasp our beloved-ness we’ll please God as a byproduct. Religion is about morality and our faithfulness. The Gospel is about grace and God’s faithfulness. Religion is a wagging finder that screams, “try harder!” The Gospel is Jesus in the Jordan saying, “We lepers.”
There’s a great verse in the Book of Isaiah that says, “surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; he was wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.” Now as Christians, we believe that this verse was meant to point to Jesus. But here’s the reason I share it. Going back to Father Damien, by the time he actually died Fr. Damien had contacted leprously. Could he have taken some sanitary measures to prevent that? I suppose he could. But what Father Damien felt called to do was to give these sick, banished and forgotten people something that had been lost: dignity, worth, love, belonging, and a sense that someone was “well pleased” enough with them to embrace them, to love them and to get close. But if that was to happen, metaphorically speaking, Father Damien had to stand with them in the Jordan. Out of his boundless love, Damien became what they were, lepers, so that that they might become what He is, fully human. God made Fr. Damien who knew no leprously to be a leper for them, so that in Damien’s presence they might experience a dignity, love and belonging they had never known before.
Why was Jesus baptized? Well, I suppose that all depends on how we view our selves. If all we really need is a good example or a little ego boost and we assume that’s what Jesus provides, than I don’t know. But if Jesus was right – if “those who are well have no need of a physician but only those who are sick” – if despite the myriad ways we try to convince the world that we’re all just fine what we really need is a savior – than Jesus’ baptism is nothing less than God, the ultimate Public Servant, making a statement to the world that he came to embrace us, love us, get close, and bear our disease for us, even to the point of dying on a cross.
You see baptism is for people that identity with sinners. And thank God that Jesus was someone that did.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
the supernatural conception(s)
A SERMON ON CHRISTIAN FORMATION IN CONVERSATION WITH LUKE 1: 26-38
And so what exactly is Christian formation? Here’s my definition.
Christian formation is the Spirit’s work for forming Jesus Christ inside of us, which is our destiny as God’s image bearers.
That’s it! Christian formation is about Christ being formed inside of us. And so notice, Christian formation isn’t limited to a class, nor is it about doing something – it’s about the spiritual renovation of our insides. As the 2nd century theologian Iranaeus put it, out of his boundless love, Christ became what we are to make us what He is. In our words, we far too often forget the second part of the Christmas message. God became man – that’s the first part; but God became man for a purpose; so that we might become more like God. That’s the second part of the Christmas message, and what I’d like to talk about this morning.
After all, that’s what today’s Gospel is all about; Mary saying “yes” – Mary saying yes to God who wants to form Jesus Christ inside of her – right? Now, I’m not saying that today’s Gospel is merely a metaphor, or that it didn’t happen. Of course it happened. But the point of my sermon today is that it happens – that as unique as Mary’s supernatural conception was, it’s at the same time normative for the Christian life. And so as Jesus Christ was literally formed inside of Mary, the point of our faith is to have Jesus spiritually formed inside of us. And that’s what Christian formation is about; saying “yes” like Mary did to a God who wants to form Jesus Christ inside of us.
And what I see in today’s Gospel is a reliable, threefold pattern that can shed some light on how Christian formation actually works. And that pattern can be stated as follows: God visits us, God favors us and we respond by saying yes.
First, God visits us. God found His way to Mary; it wasn’t Mary who found her way to God. And of course the same is always true of us. You see, Christianity is not a set of teachings that will enable us to climb the ladder to visit God. It’s the good news that in Christ God has climbed down the ladder to visit us. As the author of 1 John puts it, “in this is love not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” It is not we who visit God. It is always God who visits us.
C.S. Lewis was once asked by a group of his colleagues at Oxford about the uniqueness of Christianity. “All religions present ethical challenges. Other religions have stories of virgin births and miracles of gods walking the earth. So what,” they sneered, “makes Christianity any different?” “What makes Christianity different?” Lewis asked rhetorically before giving his one word response. GRACE.
Christianity is about grace. It’s not about us trying harder, or about us doing better, or about us changing the world. It’s about a God that freely chooses to visit us and heal us and save us. Christianity is about grace. God visits us.
But second, God favors us. And trust me when I say that there is nothing more difficult to believe, and at the same time nothing more necessary to believe, than this. God favors us.
It’s difficult to believe because our hearts, and sometimes other people, are always condemning us. We feel small and flawed and sinful and broken and so we come to church and hope that God will accept us. But the good news of the Gospel isn’t that God accepts us. I “accept” paying taxes. I don’t want to pay them, but I’ve got to. That’s what it means to “accept” something and far too often I think we assume that God feels the same way. “I don’t want to forgive them, but Jesus died so I’ve got to.” But notice, that isn’t what the angel tells Mary. “Greetings, favored one.” “Don’t be afraid, you have found favor with God.”
Brennan Manning, who’s one of my favorite authors, tells the true story of an Irish priest who stumbles upon a peasant praying by the side of the road. And so the priest, who’s impressed, says to the peasant, “You must be really close to God.” And this is how that peasant responded. “I am, because God is very fond of me.” You see this peasant knew what Mary did – that he had found favor with God.
How sweet would life be, how many problems would disappear, if we only believed that? If we believed that God is fond of us –not that we’re forgiven, or accepted, or tolerated – but that we are all the apple of His eye.
And so does the God we imagine only favor the right, the respectable, the religious, and the rule-keepers? Because God’s intention in visiting someone like Mary was to demolish that idea. You see in Mary’s culture no one was favored less than an unwed, childless, teenage girl. And God came to her and said, “I choose you. I favor you. Not because your good – but because I am. Not because you’re worthy, but because the Most High will overshadow you and Christ will form within you and that – that will make you worthy.”
God doesn’t just accept us. In Christ, he favors us, loves us, dotes on us, and embraces us. He calls us son. He calls us daughter. There is nothing more difficult, but at the same time nothing more necessary, to believe than this – that we, us! – have found favor with God.
Now, to the extent that we know that, we will respond by saying yes. You see a mature Christian is someone who lives their life with Mary’s words carved into their heart. “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” And the spiritual word for this is submission. Submission begins the moment we acknowledge that God is incredibly invested in how we live, that our need to control things never turns out well, that when God forbids us to take the forbidden fruit it’s because He wants us to be happy, and that the only way to find our life is by losing it. You see what Mary did in today’s Gospel is something God asks us to do every single day. This is how C.S. Lewis puts it in Mere Christianity.
The first job each morning consists simply in shoving [all your hopes and wishes for the day] back; in listening to that other voice. We can only do it for a few moments at first. But from those moments a new sort of life will be spreading through our system: because we are now letting Christ work [inside of] us. It is the difference between paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye that soaks all the way through. (Mere Christianity, 198)
In other words, submission is about saying “yes” to God – not with our lips, but with our lives. And so for example, every time we pray, read scripture, or sit in contemplative silence, we submit God. Every time we feed the poor, befriend the friendless, or greet the stranger, we submit to God. Every time we refrain from judging, show others mercy, or forgive someone who has hurt us, we submit to God. And we do this not in the hope that God will favor us; but in the knowledge that in Christ He already does; because God is incredibly found of us all.
Now, I know that Christmas is a week away, and you have a lot on your mind. It’s a busy time. I also know that in the coming year your rector will ask you to engage in Christian formation in a much deeper way than you have in the past, and a lot that is already underway. In fact, Josephine led an excellent class this morning. And so here’s what I’d leave you with as the 25th approaches.
God became like us for one purpose only: so that we could become more like Him. You see what happened to Mary in the physical sense must happen to us in the spiritual sense – there must be a supernatural conception. Christ himself must grow inside of us. The goal is to be able to say with St. Paul, “it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” Because there is a difference; between us trying to climb the ladder to be with God and us knowing that He climbed down to be with us; between trying to earn God’s favor and knowing that we already have it; between controlling, which leads to death, and submitting, which leads to life.
There is a difference between paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye that soaks all the way through. The point of our faith is to have Jesus Christ soak all the way through.
Christian formation is the Spirit’s work for forming Jesus Christ inside of us, which is our destiny as God’s image bearers.
It still happens. Mary said “yes.” The question I leave us with today is, “will you?”
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Joy!
TO LISTEN ONLINE
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/rejoice.mp3
“Rejoice always; give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
A good friend of mine dressed up as a Puritan for Halloween a couple years back. Now, at first I was disappointed. Halloween costumes in my opinion are meant to be scary and so if you don’t have fake scars, fake teethe, fake moles, or fake blood – in my opinion it just doesn’t count. But I have to say she played the part of the Puritan perfectly. She had no make-up, no flashy clothes, but most importantly, no smile. She didn’t laugh the entire night. Her goal was to look completely joyless.
Now, actually like the Puritans and think the costume was a caricature. But it is true - Puritans aren’t really known for being the life of the party. And historically speaking, a lot of Puritans thought laughter was evil. In fact, I heard one man was sentenced to three days in jail for smiling during his baptism. Why? Because the way of Jesus, they thought, was really, serious business. It meant frowning in this life to secure a smile in the next one.
Now, I think a lot of Christians are heir to this legacy. Christianity, we’ve heard, is about doing our duty. It’s about rolling up our sleeves and even stuffing the deepest desires of our heart to serve a much more noble purpose. The problem is that none of this meshes with Paul says in today’s reading from 1 Thessalonians. “Rejoice always.” Paul says. “Give thanks in all circumstances.” “This is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
Now, I have to say, living a joy-filled life is a challenging thing in today’s world, and there are a lot of reasons for this but I’ll go ahead and name three.
1. It’s impossible to be joyful if we’re preoccupied with ourselves. You see what John the Baptist acknowledges in today’s Gospel is actually pretty profound: “I am not the Messiah.” In other words, there’s a direct correlation between humility and joy. And when I use the word humility I don’t mean thinking less of ourselves – I mean thinking of ourselves less. I mean thinking more of God. You see joy is not something we can manufacture for ourselves. It’s the fruit of Jesus Christ being formed in us, which can’t happen if we’re preoccupied with ourselves.
2. It’s impossible to be joyful when we’re preoccupied with things. Psalm 1 actually says a lot about this when it compares a happy person to a tree that’s planted by streams of water. And I have to say I love this image. Because – there’s a difference between being a tree that draws on a nearby stream and a tree that depends on the fickleness of the outside rain. In other words, there’s a difference between drawing on inner resources – that is our own intimate relationship with God – and depending on outside factors that are completely outside of our control. And so think of the things that tend to make us happy – the size of our bank account, positive feedback at work, a clean kitchen, no one we love being sick or depressed, our football team winning, a new car, you get the idea – these are all like “the rain.” And sometimes they fall down on us steadily, and sometimes they don’t come at all. But the psalmist’s point, and the consistent witness of the Bible, is that we can’t depend on any of these things for our sense of happiness and joy. But like the tree in psalm 1 we have to be rooted; we have to be drawing on something that isn’t subject to changing seasons, something greater than our circumstances; and of course that Something is God and the stream is Jesus Christ.
3. It’s really hard to be joyful if we’re always trying to avoid the things in life that hurt. We get rid of our pain by seeking distractions. We get rid of our insecurity by eliminating risks. We get rid of our disappointment by downplaying our deepest hopes. But here’s the paradox of Christianity. Joy isn’t found in avoiding our cross. It’s found in embracing our cross with Jesus and for Jesus. As Paul puts it in Romans, “suffering produces perseverance and perseverance character and character hope.” In other words, pain isn’t good. But God is. And part of God’s redemptive work is to help move deeper into our pain in order to make us more like Himself. And becoming more like God is what increases our capacity for joy.
And so joy is impossible if we’re preoccupied with ourselves, or with things, or with trying to get rid of our pain. And yet Paul commands us. “Rejoice always. Give thanks in all circumstances. This is will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” And so the question is, how do we do it?
1. To rejoice always, we have to properly understand God. Because we won’t get joy if we don’t first understand that God is the most joyful being in the entire universe. In fact, it’s important to know that God lives a very interesting life. After all, when God created the heavens and the earth, He didn’t casually remark, “It’ll have to do.” No. God rejoiced when he saw that it was very good. And when God created you, He didn’t say “it’ll have to do.” God rejoiced because he saw that you are very good. And that’s because joy is foundational to the character of God. You see the sorrow of God, kind like the anger of God, is just God’s temporary response to our fallen world. But all sorrow and anger will forever be banished from God’s heart on that future day when Jesus sets our world is set right. And so if we’re going to learn to rejoice always, this is something we have to understand about God. Joy is foundational to the character of God.
2. To rejoice always we have to be obedient to Jesus – the incarnation of our joyful God. And Jesus came as the joy-bringer. Or to quote the Gospel of John, Jesus came so that our “joy may be complete.” You see, it’s not that we have to be joyful before we begin to obey Jesus. Joy is just what happens to us as we move deeper and deeper into a life of obedience. Joy isn’t found in taking the forbidden fruit, as if God were stingy and holding out on us. And so if God tells us not to do something, God’s not holding out on us. That just wouldn’t be consistent with God’s character. This is how the great hymn writer John Newton put it, “Our pleasure and our duty, though opposite before; since we have seen his beauty, are joined to part no more.” In other words, Jesus didn’t come to stuff the deepest desires of our heart; he came to grant them. The point of losing our life is to find new life in Him.
And so as you go out into the world this week here’s what I’d leave you with. Practice the discipline of celebration. Allow the Spirit to draw you outside of yourself. Dance. Sing. Be goofy. Live. Love. Lighten up. Christ has died, Christ has risen and Christ will come again. God wins. You and I are free.
You know that’s what Advent is about, right? Don’t be confused by the purple – it’s not primarily about repentance like Lent; it’s about joyful expectancy. It’s about reminding ourselves that God has already become human in the person of Jesus Christ, that his resurrection has set the new creation in motion, and that a day will surely come when he returns to make all things new. And that’s something worth celebrating.
After all, God built us to celebrate. I mean, what’s the Trinity but one big celebration? Remember, the angel that appeared to those shepherds abiding in the field didn’t just bring good news. The angel brought “good news of a great joy.” And that’s what Advent is about. It’s not just about our Lord coming to meet us. It’s about us coming with joy to meet our Lord.
And so let’s go back to my friend’s Halloween costume – “the Puritan.” There is nothing scarier, nothing more frightening, than a person who never smiles; a person who never laughs; a person who’s completely joyless – especially when they do so in the name of Jesus. Of all people, we Christians should be the life of this party that’s happening on earth.
“Rejoice always. Give thanks in all circumstances. This is will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
http://traffic.libsyn.com/johnnewton/rejoice.mp3
“Rejoice always; give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
A good friend of mine dressed up as a Puritan for Halloween a couple years back. Now, at first I was disappointed. Halloween costumes in my opinion are meant to be scary and so if you don’t have fake scars, fake teethe, fake moles, or fake blood – in my opinion it just doesn’t count. But I have to say she played the part of the Puritan perfectly. She had no make-up, no flashy clothes, but most importantly, no smile. She didn’t laugh the entire night. Her goal was to look completely joyless.
Now, actually like the Puritans and think the costume was a caricature. But it is true - Puritans aren’t really known for being the life of the party. And historically speaking, a lot of Puritans thought laughter was evil. In fact, I heard one man was sentenced to three days in jail for smiling during his baptism. Why? Because the way of Jesus, they thought, was really, serious business. It meant frowning in this life to secure a smile in the next one.
Now, I think a lot of Christians are heir to this legacy. Christianity, we’ve heard, is about doing our duty. It’s about rolling up our sleeves and even stuffing the deepest desires of our heart to serve a much more noble purpose. The problem is that none of this meshes with Paul says in today’s reading from 1 Thessalonians. “Rejoice always.” Paul says. “Give thanks in all circumstances.” “This is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
Now, I have to say, living a joy-filled life is a challenging thing in today’s world, and there are a lot of reasons for this but I’ll go ahead and name three.
1. It’s impossible to be joyful if we’re preoccupied with ourselves. You see what John the Baptist acknowledges in today’s Gospel is actually pretty profound: “I am not the Messiah.” In other words, there’s a direct correlation between humility and joy. And when I use the word humility I don’t mean thinking less of ourselves – I mean thinking of ourselves less. I mean thinking more of God. You see joy is not something we can manufacture for ourselves. It’s the fruit of Jesus Christ being formed in us, which can’t happen if we’re preoccupied with ourselves.
2. It’s impossible to be joyful when we’re preoccupied with things. Psalm 1 actually says a lot about this when it compares a happy person to a tree that’s planted by streams of water. And I have to say I love this image. Because – there’s a difference between being a tree that draws on a nearby stream and a tree that depends on the fickleness of the outside rain. In other words, there’s a difference between drawing on inner resources – that is our own intimate relationship with God – and depending on outside factors that are completely outside of our control. And so think of the things that tend to make us happy – the size of our bank account, positive feedback at work, a clean kitchen, no one we love being sick or depressed, our football team winning, a new car, you get the idea – these are all like “the rain.” And sometimes they fall down on us steadily, and sometimes they don’t come at all. But the psalmist’s point, and the consistent witness of the Bible, is that we can’t depend on any of these things for our sense of happiness and joy. But like the tree in psalm 1 we have to be rooted; we have to be drawing on something that isn’t subject to changing seasons, something greater than our circumstances; and of course that Something is God and the stream is Jesus Christ.
3. It’s really hard to be joyful if we’re always trying to avoid the things in life that hurt. We get rid of our pain by seeking distractions. We get rid of our insecurity by eliminating risks. We get rid of our disappointment by downplaying our deepest hopes. But here’s the paradox of Christianity. Joy isn’t found in avoiding our cross. It’s found in embracing our cross with Jesus and for Jesus. As Paul puts it in Romans, “suffering produces perseverance and perseverance character and character hope.” In other words, pain isn’t good. But God is. And part of God’s redemptive work is to help move deeper into our pain in order to make us more like Himself. And becoming more like God is what increases our capacity for joy.
And so joy is impossible if we’re preoccupied with ourselves, or with things, or with trying to get rid of our pain. And yet Paul commands us. “Rejoice always. Give thanks in all circumstances. This is will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” And so the question is, how do we do it?
1. To rejoice always, we have to properly understand God. Because we won’t get joy if we don’t first understand that God is the most joyful being in the entire universe. In fact, it’s important to know that God lives a very interesting life. After all, when God created the heavens and the earth, He didn’t casually remark, “It’ll have to do.” No. God rejoiced when he saw that it was very good. And when God created you, He didn’t say “it’ll have to do.” God rejoiced because he saw that you are very good. And that’s because joy is foundational to the character of God. You see the sorrow of God, kind like the anger of God, is just God’s temporary response to our fallen world. But all sorrow and anger will forever be banished from God’s heart on that future day when Jesus sets our world is set right. And so if we’re going to learn to rejoice always, this is something we have to understand about God. Joy is foundational to the character of God.
2. To rejoice always we have to be obedient to Jesus – the incarnation of our joyful God. And Jesus came as the joy-bringer. Or to quote the Gospel of John, Jesus came so that our “joy may be complete.” You see, it’s not that we have to be joyful before we begin to obey Jesus. Joy is just what happens to us as we move deeper and deeper into a life of obedience. Joy isn’t found in taking the forbidden fruit, as if God were stingy and holding out on us. And so if God tells us not to do something, God’s not holding out on us. That just wouldn’t be consistent with God’s character. This is how the great hymn writer John Newton put it, “Our pleasure and our duty, though opposite before; since we have seen his beauty, are joined to part no more.” In other words, Jesus didn’t come to stuff the deepest desires of our heart; he came to grant them. The point of losing our life is to find new life in Him.
And so as you go out into the world this week here’s what I’d leave you with. Practice the discipline of celebration. Allow the Spirit to draw you outside of yourself. Dance. Sing. Be goofy. Live. Love. Lighten up. Christ has died, Christ has risen and Christ will come again. God wins. You and I are free.
You know that’s what Advent is about, right? Don’t be confused by the purple – it’s not primarily about repentance like Lent; it’s about joyful expectancy. It’s about reminding ourselves that God has already become human in the person of Jesus Christ, that his resurrection has set the new creation in motion, and that a day will surely come when he returns to make all things new. And that’s something worth celebrating.
After all, God built us to celebrate. I mean, what’s the Trinity but one big celebration? Remember, the angel that appeared to those shepherds abiding in the field didn’t just bring good news. The angel brought “good news of a great joy.” And that’s what Advent is about. It’s not just about our Lord coming to meet us. It’s about us coming with joy to meet our Lord.
And so let’s go back to my friend’s Halloween costume – “the Puritan.” There is nothing scarier, nothing more frightening, than a person who never smiles; a person who never laughs; a person who’s completely joyless – especially when they do so in the name of Jesus. Of all people, we Christians should be the life of this party that’s happening on earth.
“Rejoice always. Give thanks in all circumstances. This is will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Prepare the King a Road
A sermon on Mark 1:1-8
http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=190193590
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Formation is about discipleship; it’s about the renovation of our heart and the transformation of our character. And so my job’s is to help every single person in the Diocese of Texas move from a life lived in service to self to a live lived in service to God: not very hard. And yet – this transition is what Christianity is about. As C.S. Lewis put it, “the Church exists for nothing else but to draw men to Christ, to make them little Christ’s. If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simple a waste of time.” And I would agree. The sole purpose of the church is to form disciples – to draw people closer to Jesus so that Jesus can make them more like Himself.
Which is actually what today’s reading from Mark is all about – the way we become disciples of Jesus. Now, I bet that’s not what you thought. You thought today you had to sit through the prologue so that next week you could hear the good stuff. No, today’s the good stuff; it’s Mark’s thesis statement where everything that’s important is introduced.
And here’s how I’d summarize Mark’s thesis: Our God and our King is coming. Let our hearts prepare him a road.
You see the first thing Mark wants us to know is what following Jesus will entail – and that’s a trip to the wilderness. Where did Moses meet God in the burning bush? The wilderness. Where did Jacob wrestle with God? The wilderness. Where did the people of Israel encounter God? Not Egypt, but at Mount Sinai, in the wilderness. And in today’s Gospel Mark tells us where we must go to encounter our God and our King: the wilderness.
Now we hear the word wilderness and we think “state park.” When we go to the wilderness we bring water and a tent and shelter and beer and firewood and food and an I-pod and you know, we really “rough it!” Or maybe we hear wilderness and we think Bear Grylls – about learning to survive ourselves.
But in the Bible, the wilderness is opposite; it’s a place where life can’t be sustained naturally. There’s no bread, no water; absolutely nothing natural you can draw on to survive. You see in the Bible’s wilderness, our achievements don’t matter; our money doesn’t matter; our skills don’t matter. Even MacGyver’s out of luck in the wilderness. And yet this is precisely the place our heart must go, Mark says, to meet Jesus.
And so if we are serious about our faith, there’s a question we need to ask. Have we met Jesus in the wilderness? Because it’s tempting, and it’s easy, to just pack Jesus up next to the beer and the I-pod and to have him join us at the state park; or think that we can make it just fine ourselves in life but that Jesus is on standby to help. It’s tempting to think Jesus is like a really good vitamin – something we need to get on with our day. And what Mark is saying in today’s Gospel is “no.” “If we want to meet Jesus, we’ve got to go to the wilderness; where if we want water, it’s going to come from the rock; where if we want bread, it has to come like manna from heaven.” In other words, the point of today’s is to remind us of something important: that we cannot provide for ourselves, that apart from God we are grass, and that the very things we’ve built our lives on – our looks, our spouse, our achievements, our status, our money, our intellect, whatever – they’re fine and wonderful things, but if they’re our foundation, it’s sand.
You see Jesus doesn’t invite us into the wilderness to polish the foundation we’ve spent our live building. He invites us to the wilderness to give us a new one.
And that’s why John begins his ministry by baptizing people, and says it’s a precursor to Jesus’ baptism of the Holy Spirit. Now you may have heard that baptism was already a common practice in Jesus’ day. I did some homework. It wasn’t. The tradition before John had to do with self-washings, ablutions and immersions, and most scholars are too lazy to point out the difference. And so as a symbol for their need to be cleansed, Jews would wash their hands before entering the temple. And if a Gentile wanted in, the rule said they had to pour water over their entire bodies, you know because they were really unclean. But here’s the difference. Before John you always washed yourself. The tradition was self-washing and self-immersion and self-cleansing and what Mark is telling us today is that with Jesus the self-washing done!; that to be a disciple of Jesus we have to let him baptize us, not just with water, but with the very Spirit of God.
The Christian Gospel is not just another self-washing technique. It’s a trip to the wilderness to be washed by Someone greater; and that our job is to prepare for that. “Prepare the way of the Lord,” he writes, “make his paths straight.”
Now, a better translation of that word “way” is actually road. “Prepare a road for the Lord,” or for the King – that’s a bit more true to the Greek, which is important to note because a king – back in the day – would send his messenger ahead of him, like Jesus did John, to announce to a city that the King was planning to visit. And the custom of the day was to prepare a new road for that King; you know to support the full entourage that would no doubt be traveling with him. Well, here’s the thing. Making a straight path, building a new road, this was a burden. I mean, people had to stop what they were doing to clear rocks, uproot weeds and level the ground. It was a burden, and frankly meant to be; it was the king’s way of lording his power over others. And so by beginning his Gospel by announcing a King’s arrival and by saying that it’s time to build him a road, Mark’s audience would have started to question – is this King also going to enslave us? Is preparing to meet him just another burden?
Now, I don’t know about you but I’ve asked that question before. If I really try and obey God’s will, won’t I be missing out? I mean, if God says don’t eat fruit from that tree, the only way to really be free is to take it, right? To be our own King? And of course from the very beginning of Mark’s Gospel we’re told that this King is different – that his arrival is “good news.”
I mean, you know that’s what the word Gospel means, right? It doesn’t mean good advice or good life strategy, the word Gospel means good news, which is why when Mark uses the word road or way from here on out – and he uses it a lot – it’s always a reference to Jesus’ road through the wilderness all the way to the cross. This King’s not coming to enslave. The King comes to set us free.
And so that’s Mark’s thesis statement: prepare the way of the Lord, a new kind of King has arrived, and so clear Him a path in the depth of your heart so the King can set you free.
You see, that heart preparation is what Advent’s about, what formation is about, what this Church is about, and what our life should be about. Because if Jesus is the King Mark’s talking about, it is a silly thing to invite Him into our life as a self-help coach or an encourager or as anything other than a liberating King worthy of our devotion in every aspect of our life. And in some sense that’s the question Mark’s putting before us. We can baptize ourselves, or Jesus can baptize us. We can build our own foundation, or we can come to Jesus for a new one. We can go to the state park or we can go to the wilderness but what we cannot do, once having heard the news, is fail to decide.
And while it is a decision that we all have to make, if we’ve only made it once, I doubt we ever made it at all. Because our King has come and is coming; and although we weren’t worthy to stoop down and touch his sandals, the good news of Christianity is that He’s made us worthy. Because our worthiness is not found at the end of some road that we must walk for ourselves; but at the end of a road that the King’s already walked on our behalf.
And so when it comes to our hearts, let us clear the rocks, uproot the weeds and level the ground. Let’s Pray. Read Scripture. Serve. Love. Bless. Share. Give. Fast. Celebrate. Be silent. Rejoice. Decide. Transition – from a life lived in service to self to a live lived in service to God; because the only reason the church exists is to make us into little Christ’s.
Our God and our King is coming. Let our hearts prepare him a road.
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