omega talk: being tested

JOKE DE JOUR / FAKE TRIVIA

Who was the fastest person in the Bible?
Adam. The Bible is quite clear that he was first in the human race.

Speaking of races …

Did anyone here, by chance, run in the Austin marathon back in February? (Has anyone ever run a marathon? Heard of a marathon?) Good, we have a lot in common. I too have a history of competitive racing. Of course, it’s been a while, but back in 1994 I ran in the All Saints’ fifth grade 5K charity “fun run.” I didn’t win or anything, but I did receive a green “honorable mention” ribbon for my efforts. And so, all in all, I deem the race a success. Mainly because I finished. And as I’m sure you can imagine, finishing a race is a glorious thing.

But the most enjoyable part is always the beginning, or phase I as I call it. Phase I is when the race begins – because in phase I, running is actually fun. The body’s loose, the heart’s pumping, the blood’s flowing, and the sun’s shining. In phase I, your body feels like a well-oiled running machine. Now, how long this stage lasts depends on a runner’s athleticism and conditioning. For me, it lasted seven feet.

I wasn’t what you’d call “fit” back in fifth grade. And after the first of five K’s, I shifted from phase I to phase II, which is when running gets difficult. In phase II, your whole body aches, you can’t breathe, and the temptation to stop is overwhelming. And frankly, I wanted to stop, but I heard a voice. “Keep running,” it kept repeating. Keep running, keep running, keep running …

Marathon runners have a name for Phase II. It’s called “hitting a wall.” And to run well in phase II – to hit the wall and keep going – this is the ultimate test of a runner – because races are won or lost at “the wall.” You see, whenever we hit a wall we have to make a decision – we either quit or we invest everything in finishing well. Because starting a race is easy – anyone can do that. But to finish well – that’s glory. And finishing well, in a very real way, is the goal of Christian discipleship.

“Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us,” the writer of Hebrew says. In other words, “let us not quit whenever we hit the wall. Let’s do all we can to finish well.” This capacity to finish well is what the Bible calls perseverance. Perseverance is that virtue that enables us to honor long-term commitments – lifetime commitments – especially when honoring them becomes difficult.

Now, obviously, this raises a question: why is it so hard to finish well in the first place? The easy answer – we hit a wall. Or to put it in Biblical terms, our faith is tested. “Being tested” is what makes perseverance in the Christian life hard.

Now, we need to go ahead and acknowledge that as students – or as former students – we come to the table with a dysfunctional view of what “being tested” actually is. In other words, we can’t take what we’ve learned about “being tested” in the classroom and apply that to our spiritual life.

For example, let’s consider the parable of the unfair teacher. I mean, this guy’s impossible. He gives one test a year, and your entire grade is based on this one, impossible final. And for kicks, let’s just say you’re studying the American presidents. Well, you’ve studied pretty hard. You know the material. But when you walk into the classroom on the day of the test, you see 44 pictures on the wall – not of the presidents’ faces – but of their feet. And your test is to identify each American president by looking at his feet. Well, that’s an unfair test – an impossible test. Passing this test would be, shall we say, quite the feat.

And so you complain. “This test isn’t fair and it can’t be done.” “Then I’ll be forced to fail you,” your teacher responds. “Fine, fail me then” you shout, and then you storm out of the classroom. “Wait, I need to know your name,” the unfair teacher shouts as you’re leaving. “You’ve failed my test, you’re going to fail my course, and so I need to know your name.” And so you take off your shoes, show him your feet, and say “you tell me.” Get it?

The point behind the parable of the unfair teacher is this – each of us brings a skewed view of being tested to the table. You see, the purpose of the tests that we’re used is to evaluate us on a system of “works righteousness” – to use a theological term. In other words, we’re evaluated on how well we perform. After all, have any of you ever seen the word grace on one of your syllabi? Didn’t think so. You and I don’t associate being tested with fairness, or with love, or with competent teachers for that matter. And in our world, being tested isn’t always fair, and it’s rarely an act of love. But in God’s world – or in God’s kingdom – things are different. And so with that in mind, let’s hear what Paul has to say to the Corinthians:

I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink. Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness. These things happened to them to serve as an example to us, on whom the ends of the ages have come. So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall. No testing has overtaken you that isn’t common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide a way out, so that you may have the strength to persevere. (1 Cor 1, 3, 5, 11-13)

How many of you have ever seen a sign like this? Or perhaps you’ve seen those electronic signs that say something like “slow down: 64 deaths on this highway last year” or “320 speeding tickets issued last month.” The purpose of these warning signs is simple: they want you to consider what’s happened in the past so that you don’t make the same mistake – so that history doesn’t repeat itself.

When it comes to the Corinthians, Paul is very concerned with history repeating itself. You see, a lot of the Corinthians are Gentile converts – people that don’t know a lot about the history of how God initiated a relationship with the people of Israel. And yet, here they are at the very center of God’s plan to save the world through Jesus. The Corinthians are like actors who have stumbled onto the stage in the middle of the play and they don’t even know what act they’re in. And so what Paul is doing in today’s reading – a portion taken from chapter 10 – is trying to help the Corinthians see what’s happened so far in the “play” of salvation so to speak. Paul wants the Corinthians to see how the characters in the previous act – the people of Israel – managed to get things wrong – how God’s people were tested, hit a wall, and were unable to finish well. You see, it’s not that the Corinthians aren’t believers. It’s just that Phase I has come to an end and the Corinthians have reached a place where perseverance isn’t easy.

And because Paul’s rooting for the Corinthians to finish well, he retells the story of the Exodus. Paul wants this story to be a “warning sign” for the Corinthians. And because time only permitted us to look at a portion of chapter ten, I’ll give you a brief recap of this foundational Biblical event. A long time ago God chose a nomad named Abraham and promised that through his children the entire world would be blessed. But over time, Abraham’s children became slaves in the land of Egypt, and so God used Moses to set Abraham’s children – the Israelites – free. But to get to the Promised Land, the Israelites first had to travel through the desert. The distance between Egypt and Canaan, by the most direct route, was 250 miles – about a month’s journey. But did it take the people of Israel a month? No. It took forty years.

If you’ve never done the math, that’s a whopping 0.0007 miles per hour. To put this in perspective, a snail travels at .03 miles per hour. In other words, a snail can go from Egypt to Canaan in less than a year. And so the question is, why did it take Israel forty?

In part, God wanted to test his people. It’s not that God didn’t know a quicker way. It’s that the shortest and the easiest way, from God’s perspective, wasn’t the best way. God wanted to spend time teaching the Israelites about His character and about His laws. God wanted the Israelites to learn obedience before they entered the Promised Land. And God wanted to test their character, their faithfulness, and their allegiance to Him alone. In other words, it wasn’t enough for God to just bring them to the Promised Land. God wanted to transform these former slaves into people that were truly free. And in order to do that, the people of Israel had to be tested.

Now, phase I of the Exodus was awesome and exciting, but this too lasted about seven feet. Because then God began to test his people. For example, God sent the people bread from heaven and the people complained to Moses because it wasn’t pizza. Or another example – when God called Moses up the mountain to receive the Law, He told the people to wait patiently. But instead of obeying, they made a golden calf, worshipped it, and then had an orgy. If 60 is a passing grade, the people of Israel made a negative 42. In other words, the majority of the people that God saved from Egyptian slavery were tested and failed miserably. And so the question is, why did they fail?

It’s a complicated question, but in short, I think they failed because they didn’t understand God’s character. What they didn’t know was that the Promised Land was so much closer than they could ever imagine. It’s not that they didn’t believe God was trying to teach them something. They just thought that God was an unfair teacher. And what they failed to understand is that being tested presupposes grace. Let me say that again – being tested presupposes grace. You see, only after rescuing the people of Israel from slavery – an extravagant act of grace – did God begin to test them. And God did so to teach the people of Israel about His character and about His laws. God wanted them to learn obedience in order to transform them into people that were truly free – into a people that were faithful to God even when they hit a wall.

Now, before moving on, I want to acknowledge two things. First, I’m not a big fan of using scare tactics to motivate people. It’s like 1 John says, “God is love and perfect love casts out all fear.” But like Paul, I do think we should take the Bible’s warning signs to heart. Many have started the race and quit, and we don’t want history to repeat itself. It’s like Jesus’ parable of the sower – sometimes the seed is planted in good soil and bears fruit, but sometimes it falls on the rocky ground, springs up really quickly, and then withers because it doesn’t have any depth. Starting a race is easy. But finishing well, that requires depth. And being tested, above all else, is about becoming a person of spiritual depth.

The second thing I want to acknowledge is that for many of us, the idea of a God that tests us is a little foreign and maybe offensive. But never forget that being tested in God’s world is different than being tested in our world because being tested by God presupposes grace. In other words, God only tests those with whom He’s initiated a relationship. And when God tests our hearts, it is always an act of love. You see, it’s not that God doesn’t know what’s in our hearts. It’s that we don’t always know what’s in our hearts. And sometimes God tests us to bring that into the light.

The author of Hebrews writes the following about Jesus: “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested. For we have [a teacher] who has been tested in every way as we are, but did not sin.” (2:18, 4:15) When it comes to our life with God, we’re all at very different places. Maybe we’re young in the faith and following Jesus seems really, really easy. Or maybe we’re seasoned disciples and we’ve hit a few walls along the way. But regardless of where we happen to be, let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. Because for a reason unknown to us, we’ve been placed in the final act of God’s plan to save the world. You and I have been invited to run the only race that’s going to matter when all is said and done – and we we’re not running for some honorable mention ribbon, but like the Bible says, for a crown of glory that never fades. And if that seems a little overwhelming to you, just remember that in Jesus, we have a fair teacher, a competent teacher, and a loving teacher – a teacher who knows from experience what it means to hit a wall and to keep going; a teacher that became human to run the race with us and to run the race for us; a teacher that ran it to the end – all the way to the cross.

The life of faith is a marathon. The excitement and enthusiasm of Phase I – it only lasts so long. Because ultimately there is a cross. And what God wants, and what Jesus died for, is to gather a people for himself who see the cross, embrace the cross, and then make a decision to finish well. God’s looking for people who, when tested, trust in the goodness of His character – for people who truly believe that He’s a fair and loving teacher – a people who are willing to bet set free.

Remember – the Promised Land is so much closer than you could ever imagine. Jesus is so much closer than you could ever imagine. And so keep running …

sermon: god's great promise

“God’s Great Promise
Gen 17: 1-7, 15-17; Rom 4: 13-25
Lent II, Year B
March 8, 2009 (Preached at ESC)

GENESIS PASSAGE

When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, ‘I am God Almighty;* walk before me, and be blameless. 2And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.’ 3Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, 4‘As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. 5No longer shall your name be Abram,* but your name shall be Abraham;* for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. 6I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. 7I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring* after you. God said to Abraham, ‘As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. 16I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.’ 17Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself, ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?’

ROMANS PASSAGE

For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith. 14If it is the adherents of the law who are to be the heirs, faith is null and the promise is void. 15For the law brings wrath; but where there is no law, neither is there violation. For this reason it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham (for he is the father of all of us, 17as it is written, ‘I have made you the father of many nations’)—in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist. 18Hoping against hope, he believed that he would become ‘the father of many nations’, according to what was said, ‘So numerous shall your descendants be.’ 19He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already* as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. 20No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, 21being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. 22Therefore his faith* ‘was reckoned to him as righteousness.’ 23Now the words, ‘it was reckoned to him’, were written not for his sake alone, 24but for ours also. It will be reckoned to us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead, 25who was handed over to death for our trespasses and was raised for our justification.



It’s hard to exaggerate how excited I was to find out that I – of all people – was a winner. I was online – doing a little web surfing as they say – when all of the sudden a big box started flashing on the screen informing me that I’d won the grand prize. I was a bit skeptical at first but time was of the essence. After all, the box was clear. I had three minutes to call or the grand prize would go to someone else. And I had no intention of letting that happen. So I called the 800 number immediately, and when I did, they began making promises. They promised me a free vacation. They promised there were no strings attached. They promised that they only needed my credit card info to verify my age. Perhaps some of you savvy students have wondered who actually falls for those schemes. ME! To this day, I’m still haunted by what I said when they answered the phone. I’m pretty sure the exact words I shouted were, “Hi, my name’s John Newton, and I’m a winner!” I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that this was hands-down the most ironic thing I’ve ever said. Because they had no intention of keeping of their promise. They were promise-breakers.

And the truth is, we live in a world of promise breakers. That’s why we have sayings like “if it sounds too good to be true then it probably is.” Because when it comes to making promises, we’re great. And if you think about, that’s all advertising is – making promises. Already this week, Miller Lite, Tag Body Spray, and Express Men’s clothing have all promised me that if I use their product, swimsuit models will love me. Well, as one who’s faithfully used two of those three products for years – not so much. Because we’re great at making promises – we’re just not very good at keeping them. To put it in Biblical terms, we lack “righteousness” – an ability to keep the promises we make to God; an ability to keep the promises we make to one another. [1] Our world is full of promise breakers – we lack righteousness so to speak – and because of that we have become skeptical. We have become skeptical of great promises.

According to tonight’s reading from Genesis, so was Abraham. After all, God makes a pretty amazing promise. God tells Abraham that he’ll be the father of many nations, and that through him and his children, God intends to bless the world. And God calls this an everlasting “covenant,” but another translation of the Hebrew word is promise. And so God is making an everlasting promise – a great promise. And Abraham, to be honest, is a bit skeptical.

For starters, this isn’t the first time God’s made this promise to Abraham. In fact, it’s the fourth time. According to Genesis, thirteen years have passed since God first appeared to Abraham, telling him to leave his home and his family, all on the grounds of this same promise – this great promise to bless the world through him and his descendants. But since God’s initial promise, Abraham’s experienced a few setbacks – famine, war, problems with his nephew, problems with his wife, and let’s be honest, problems with his body. After all, he’s a 99 year old nomad. Today’s reading from Romans doesn’t really water it down. To quote Paul, “his body was as good as dead.” And so Abraham’s old – and he’s heard God’s promise a few times before.

But that’s not the main reason he’s skeptical. Because practically speaking, in order to be the father of many nations, first, you have to be – a father. And in Abraham’s case, for it to really count, the mother had to be his wife. Because the rules of his society were a bit different than ours. But the rules of biology? They were the same. And Sarah, his wife, was 90 years old at the time. Now, not only is this slightly gross, but from a biological perspective, it’s impossible. And that’s the reason Abraham is skeptical. And like Genesis tells us, Abraham falls on his face and he laughs. Abraham laughs at the great promise of God. “If it sounds too good to be true then it probably is.” Because what God’s promising, from a human point of view, is impossible.

Now, to be fair, that’s not the whole story. And what our reading from Genesis leaves out tonight’s reading from Romans fills in. Because according to Paul, Abraham’s laughter was temporary. And though skeptical, Abraham was faithful and he lived a life of faith – a life firmly rooted in the great promise of God. Did he experience setbacks? Yea. Times of testing? Sure. Moments when the promise of God seemed laughable? Apparently so. And yet, Paul tells us today that Abraham is our model for the life of faith. But that’s not all. Paul goes on to say something else, something amazing – that Abraham’s faith was “reckoned” to him as righteousness.

Now, I mentioned before that we lack “righteousness” – a word that’s tied to integrity, to promise-keeping, to being put “right” on the insides. To make a long story short, righteousness is something we need. Something we’re missing. Something God requires. And the great promise of God to us is that the one thing we need, the one thing we’re missing, the one thing God requires – righteousness – is now available as a gift. Through faith in Jesus. And in essence, that’s God’s great impossible promise to us.

You’ve got to love that Abraham, of all people, is our model for the life of faith. Because it shows us that the life of faith isn’t always smooth. It sure wasn’t for Abraham. It wasn’t for Moses. It wasn’t for Peter. It wasn’t for Paul. It hasn’t always been that smooth for me, and if I had to guess, each of you knows something about setbacks, about anxiety, about times of testing, and about moments when the great promise of God seems laughable. But the difference between people of faith and people without faith isn’t that some have trials and that some don’t. It’s not that some are better than others. The difference is this: people of faith base their lives on the conviction that the great promise of God is true. They may be laughing one minute – but they’re dancing the next. Expecting setbacks, and regardless of what happens, they cling to the great impossible promise of God, they refuse to let go. And is very act of clinging, Paul tells us, this refusal to let go, is what makes us righteous before God.

The truth is, you and I are weak. We’re shaky. We make promises. We break promises. One minute we’re walking the walk, the next minute we’re laughing at God. We’re not righteous. And deep down, we know that no one else is either. But the good news of the Christian Gospel is that our God is. And I know that in a world where the things that seem too good to be true probably are, it can be hard to cling to God’s great promise. Because it’s one thing to recite a Creed once a week, but to base our entire lives on the conviction that the great promise of God is true, that takes courage. In the midst of setbacks, in the midst of skepticism, it takes a lot of courage to refuse to let go. But this refusal to let go of the God that refuses to let go of us – that’s what faith is. And not only that, but this refusal to let go is what makes us righteous before God.

The truth is, you and I will never perfectly keep the promises we make to God or to one another. But I want you to know that that’s ok. Because in spite of our inability to be faithful, our God remains faithful. And in spite of our skepticism, our God’s plan of salvation is certain. This is God’s great impossible promise to promise-breakers like us. And make no mistake; the God we worship is a Promise-Keeper.

[1] This is a fitting connection because one of Paul’s uses of dikaiosune in Romans (translated righteousness) is “covenant faithfulness.” In other words, God is righteous because God keep’s God’s promises.

sermon: who are you?

“Who are you?”
Mark 1: 9-15
Lent I, Year B
March 1, 2009 (Preached at ESC)

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved;* with you I am well pleased. And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13He was in the wilderness for forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news* of God,* 15and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;* repent, and believe in the good news.’*

I’d like to begin tonight’s sermon with a question. Who are you? In other words, I am __. How would you fill in the blank? A seminary professor of mine once said that “the question of identity is the question of difference.” And I agree. Our identity matters. How we define ourselves matters. And so how we choose to answer this question matters. Who are you? I am __ ?

That’s the question I’d like to wrestle with tonight, but first, we’re going to play a little game. Mad Libs. Mad Libs is a game of filling in the blanks. And it’s a funny game because the way we fill in the blanks is usually ridiculous. And if you’re anything like me, or your average 2nd grader, this is hilarious and it never gets old. A normal sentence like “Jeff parked a car in the lot,” after a little mad-libbing, becomes “Jeff spanked a gorilla in the oven.” And that’s funny because, I don’t care how crazy Jeff is, he’d never spank a gorilla, let alone do so in an oven of all places. Because that’s just ridiculous. And so, if it’s OK with you, I’d like to play a quick game, which means I’ll need a little CC – congregational cooperation. And so, if someone could please give me a …

(1) A past tense verb – ending in the letters “ed”
(2) A noun – the name of someone you admire
(3) Adjective
(4) Noun

If you’ll look in your worship bulletin, you’ll see the “Mad Lib” we’re filling in. And so, after filling in the blanks, this is how our sentence would read. Define yourself radically as one ___ by ___. This is your ___ self. Every other identity is a (an) ___.

Now obviously, this is ridiculous. It doesn’t even make sense. At the core of your being, this isn’t who you are. If someone were to say, “Who are you?” your answer wouldn’t be “I’m one __ by __.” In terms of defining your identity, that’s a ridiculous way to fill in the blank. But how should you fill in the blank? I am ___. Who are you?

When it comes to defining our identity, the way you and I fill in the blanks can be really ridiculous. In fact, our favorite way to fill in the blank is to tell people something we do. Who are you? I’m a priest. I’m a business student. I’m an athlete. I’m in a fraternity. I’m in a band. I’m involved in the church. I’m the president of the Chris Brown fan club. Now, don’t get me wrong. What we do is a part of who we are, and what we do matters to God. But at the core of our being, our identity – who we are – can’t be tied to any of these things. Because what happens if we preach a bad sermon? Or graduate and can’t find a job? Who are we going to be then? A bad priest? An unemployed ex business student? I’m not so sure that’s who I want to be.

The truth is, you and I have hard time standing firm in the knowledge of who we are. And when we’re not sure who we are, we panic and start filling in the blanks in ridiculous ways. After all, we have to be someone. And so we make our life about perfecting an image. We find something the world values – money, power, our intellect, our sense of humor, the way we look, how religious we are, how well we’re doing in school – and we build our identity around that. We make our life about perfecting an image. The only problem is, always working to perfect our image is competitive and exhausting, and before we know it, our lives become motivated by fear; fear of not measuring up. Fear of not living up to the expectations of others. Fear of losing our sense of self-worth. And a person driven by fear – well, I’m not so sure that’s who I want to be either.

In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan. And at his baptism, Jesus hears a voice from heaven telling him who he is. Jesus receives unique insight into his identity. “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Now remember – Jesus hasn’t done a thing to prove himself yet. He hasn’t healed the sick or cast out any demons or preached a single sermon. And yet God tells Jesus that he is the beloved. Jesus is told that his life is pleasing to God. And so if you were to ask Jesus on the day of his baptism, who are you? What do you think Jesus would have said? “I’m a carpenter. I’m a Jew. I’m the son of Joseph.” No, Jesus would have been beaming from ear to ear and told you, “I am the beloved son of my Father in heaven. I am one with whom God is well-pleased.”

The miracle of grace is that, by virtue of our baptism, the Living God looks at each of us and says to us what He said to Jesus on the day of His baptism. It’s like Paul says in Colossians, “you have died, and your identity is hidden with Christ in God.” [1] In other words, God sees us – not as we are in ourselves – but as we are in Jesus Christ. God looks at us – at every single moment of our life – and says to us what he said to Jesus – “You are my dear, dear child. And I’m absolutely delighted with you.”

But our story doesn’t stop here, because after hearing these words, Jesus doesn’t begin his ministry just yet, but like Mark tells us, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness. And for forty days Jesus is tempted. Now, Mark doesn’t tell us how. But my guess is that Satan makes Jesus question his identity – I bet he tries to get Jesus to question who he is at the core of his being. For those forty days in the dessert, I think Satan’s plan was to make Jesus think that he had to do something to earn God’s love – to make Jesus think that he had to prove himself for God to be well-pleased with his life. And I’m willing to bet that each of us fights that same temptation too.

As many of you know, today is the first Sunday of Lent – a season of intentional repentance. And the word repent means to change one’s mind. And what I think you and I need to change our mind about more than anything is who or what we allow to define our identity - we need to change the way we fill in the blanks when it comes to defining who we are. Because at the core of our being, we are not what we do. We are not what others say that we are. We are not what we feel. We are not how we look. We are not our portfolio. We are not our I.Q. We are not as good as our latest sermon or our latest relationship or our latest test score or our latest service project. Because who we are – at the core of our being – has nothing to do with us. And it has everything to do with God.

In other words, in order to know who we are, we have to know Whose we are. And we are beloved children of God. Before we were even born, God knew us. And we belong to God. And to define ourselves in any other way is ridiculous. To define ourselves in any other way just doesn’t make sense.

I began tonight’s sermon with the question who are you. Believe it or not, Moses actually had the guts to ask God that same question a long time ago. And the more I think about God’s answer, the more it amazes me. When Moses asked God – “who are you” – God said, “I AM.” “I AM.” In other words, God doesn’t have any blanks to fill in –because God just IS –He’s the only One who has an identity in and of Himself. And the miracle grace is that gives us an identity – that God tells us who we are. And what he said to Jesus he says to us. “You are my dear, dear child. And I’m absolutely delighted with you.”

And so get out your worship bulletin and take a look at our mad libs again. The question is – who are you? How should you define yourself?

Define yourself radically as one LOVED by GOD. This is your TRUE self. Every other identity is an ILLUSION.


[1] Col 3:3. “Identity” is my translation of zoe, which is usually translated “life.” But the words are interchangeable, and for the purposes of this sermon, mean the same thing.

sermon: what are you giving up?

“What are you giving up?”
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Ps 103: 8-14; 2 Cor 5:20 – 6:10; Mt 6: 1-6, 16-21
Ash Wednesday, Year B
February 25, 2009 (Preached on the “Main Mall,” University of Texas at Austin)

If you’re like me, you’ve been asked the question a million times this week – “What are you giving up for Lent?” I’ve been paying close attention, and so far, I’ve heard all the standard resolutions: no junk food, alcohol, homework, cuss words, gossip, meat, sandals, or road rage - to name just a few. And perhaps my favorite – one brave soul, for the next forty days and forty nights, plans to make the ultimate sacrifice and abstain from all forms of Facebook stalking. But what about you? What are you giving up for Lent?

I have to admit, at first, my answer to this question was “nothing.” But when you’re a priest, this answer doesn’t really go over that well. And so by Monday afternoon, I began telling people about my plan to fast on Wednesdays. But that answer’s not much better. For one, I ate a cliff bar on my way here. And second, I changed my answer to keep people from staring at me like I just kicked their puppy. In other words, I was playing to the crowds – seeking the approval of others. And because of that, my heart wasn’t in the right place. And so Lent 2009 is off to a shaky start. But it made me wonder – is Lent really about giving things up? In other words, what is Lent really about?

Well the traditional answer – in one word – is repentance. Some say Lent is all about repentance. Now, don’t get me wrong – Lent is a time to repent, a time to return to God. But I’ve got a problem with the traditional answer. Because if Lent is all about our repentance, then the focus is on us - about what we give up, or about the disciplines we take on. And if we make Lent about us, it gets really easy to start playing to the crowd – and our heart won’t be in the right place.

And here’s why I feel the way I do. Repentance, in Old Testament times, could be somewhat of a joke. You see, repentance used to be a very public event – kind of like what we’re doing tonight – just a lot more extreme. You see, we’re just getting ashes on our head. But back in the day, people would literally cover themselves in ashes. They’d blow trumpets, rip their clothes, put on sackcloth, and then, they’d start wailing as loud as they could. At times, even the animals were dressed in sackcloth and were denied food and water. (Jon 3:7) Now, lest anyone stops feeding their pet and stuffs it in a burlap sack, let me go ahead and be clear that God wants more from us than these outward acts of piety. It’s not that repentance isn’t important, or that it’s not a big part of Lent. I just don’t think it’s the main point. Because ultimately, Lent’s not about anything that we give up or don’t give up at all. Our God wants much, much more. You see, these public acts of repentance started out great, but over time, these events became less about God and more about them.

And in a very real sense, that what’s going on in tonight’s reading from Matthew. Jesus sees the religious people of his day making repentance all about them. They give alms and they pray and they fast – in other words, they give up a lot – but their focus is on themselves. And Jesus calls them “hypocrites” – a Greek word that literally means “play actors.” In other words, Jesus sees their acts of repentance and tells them they’re acting. “You’re playing to the crowd.” Jesus said. “But your heart’s not in the right place.”

And that’s why I think Lent shouldn’t be about us. Because each of us, in our own way, is a play actor seeking the approval of someone other than God. And really, that’s all sin is - the very thing that keeps our heart from being in the right place. And because of that, tonight can’t be about anything that you or I give up. It can’t be about any sacrifice that we make. So: what is Lent really about?

Lent is all about the cross. It’s not about what we give up. But it’s all about what God gave up for sinners like us – for people whose heart never seems to be in the right place. To quote tonight’s epistle, “for our sake God made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5: 21). The focus is not on us. It’s on Jesus, and on what he gave up for you and for me.

And when it comes to the cross, Jesus wasn’t playing to the crowd, nor was he seeking the approval of anyone but God. As the Son of God, Jesus didn’t sound a trumpet before him to demand the world’s attention. No – Jesus suffered silently and quietly. He was abandoned and betrayed. And though equal to God, Jesus emptied himself, took the form of a slave, and died on the cross. In other words, Jesus gave up everything. Out of love for you and for me – Jesus gave up everything.

And so with that in mind, what are you giving up for Lent?

Remember, outward acts of piety can be good – but our God wants much, much more from us. And when we start to see that Lent is all about Jesus’ sacrifice and not about ours, we can then begin to “give up” the one thing God requires – our heart. After all, Lent is a time to repent, a time to return to God. But like we heard in tonight’s reading from Joel, returning to God is a matter of the heart.

And so here’s our homework for the next forty days – at least for those of us not giving homework up for Lent. Give up your entire heart to God. Hold nothing back. Through the merits of the cross, we have God’s approval. And so let’s give up playing to the crowds – let’s give up seeking the approval of someone else. Because our God wants much, much more from us than outward acts of piety – He wants all of our heart, and all of our mind, and all of our soul, and all of our strength. And if giving up carbs help us do that, then awesome. But ultimately, the only things God wants is us – for us to give up our heart to Him. And to the extent that we do that, our heart will finally be in the right place.

And so to answer my original question –is Lent really about giving things up? Yeah, it is. It’s about a Father that gave up His son. It’s about a Son that gave up His life. And it’s about the Spirit, through whom we can give up our hearts to God.

And so for the last time, what are you giving up for Lent?

omega talk: you are god's temple

JOKE DE JOUR / FAKE TRIVIA

Who was the greatest comedian in the Bible?

Samson. According to the Book of Judges, he brought the house down.

Actually, it was the temple of the Philistines. But that’s not as a good of a punch line.

But on a more serious note, I need to begin by saying that since December of 2008 I’ve been in an abusive relationship.

And it’s with my personal trainer at 24 hour fitness.

It all started out so innocently. I joined the gym hoping to tone up a bit for 2009 and was offered a special “one-time” deal to meet with a personal trainer at a discount. I was matched with Jerod. And I’ll never forget the first time we met. I extended a hand and said, “Hey man, how’s it going, I’m John.” And Jerod responded not with his name but with a question. “I need to know right now,” Jerod said quite intently, “on a scale between 1 and 10 – how bad do you want it?” Well, you know how your parents would always tell you to think before speaking? Yea, I didn’t do that. Because I told Jerod I was at a 6.5. And looking back, that’s really where the abuse began. Because Jerod was really disappointed with my answer. And so shaking his head in disappointment, he asked a follow-up question. “What are you on?” I didn’t want to embarrass myself again and so I asked for clarification. “Supplements” he said. “What are you on for your body? You know, creatine, protein bars, omega 3’s, fat burners, muscle rebuilders? What fuels your body,” he said, “What are you on?” My answer was “Claritin.”

Jerod then gave me a list of supplements that he expected me to take. Half of them were available at the 24-hour fitness vitamin shop, but to get the other half I had to go to some dude’s van in the alley behind the gym. “Why do I need all these” I asked. And this is what Jerod said. “Because your body is a machine.” I then made some weird, awkward joke about being a “micro-machine” and that didn’t really go over too well, and so I fired off a second joke about the movie Terminator, which also bombed. But - I do find Jerod’s perspective intriguing. “Your body is a machine.”

Is that true? Your body is … How would you fill in the blank? For example, according to Jerod, your body is a machine. According to some biologists, your body is a planet. According to most 6th grade teachers, your body is changing. According to John Mayer, your body is a wonderland. But how would you fill in the blank?

Well, tonight we look at how another personal trainer filled in that blank. Because the apostle Paul, for a while now, has been training the Corinthians in the ways of Christian discipleship. And in two different parts of the letter, Paul makes the following statement. “Your body is a temple.” And so for tonight, I want to look at how Paul fills in the blank and examine not only what his words meant to the Corinthians, but also what Paul’s words mean to you and to me. And so if someone could please read the first passage:

1 Corinthians 3: 16-17

Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.

Now, in order to understand how radical Paul’s statement is, we need a little crash course on “the temple.” Historically speaking, the Temple, located in Jerusalem, was planned by King David around 1,000 BC and then assembled and supervised by his son and successor Solomon. That’s a lot of S’s. And the Temple was the central sanctuary for Israel. There was nothing holier than the temple – nothing more pure than God’s temple. And this was the case for two primary reasons.

First, the temple was literally God’s home. The temple was where heaven and earth met – the primary place on this earth where God was believed to dwell. Psalm 123 speaks of God as “enthroned in the heavens.” Well, people in Jesus’ day believed that God stepped down from His heavenly throne and descended into the Temple. And so the Temple was God’s home.

Second, the temple was the place where sacrifices were offered and accepted. How many of you have read the book of Leviticus cover to cover? Well, your loss – it’s a real page turner. Because Leviticus lays out a highly detailed written code on what sacrifices one should offer to God and the suitable manner in which they should be offered. And so the idea of sacrifice has deep, deep Biblical roots. But the Temple was where they were offered.

Now with that in mind, listen to Paul’s words again.

“Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.”

When we examine the Greek, the pronoun “you” is plural. And so Paul’s talking to the entire Christian community. Remember C1?

The Christian community is where an explosive Christian spirituality begins. And the reason, according to Paul, is that the collective body of Christian believers - or “the Body of Christ” – is God’s new Temple. Now, think about how radical this is – how controversial Paul’s statement would have been to his original audience. Because when Paul wrote 1 Corinthians, the temple Solomon built was still standing. Think about what you and I, as Christians, believe to be holy and pure. For me, it’s the Bible and the Eucharist. Well, what if someone snatched the Bible right out of your hands and was like, “you don’t need this anymore. Because you are God’s Bible.” What would you say? Or what if next Sunday you came to the communion rail and reverently reached out your hands hoping to find fresh grace and forgiveness and instead of giving you bread I slapped you a high five and told you that the Eucharist was out of date. Well, that’s kind of how radical Paul’s statement was. To the entire Christian church, Paul says – “The physical temple, the one made of stones, the one stationed in Jerusalem, is no longer where God lives. The physical temple, the one made of stones, the one stationed in Jerusalem, is no longer where sacrifices are offered to God.” “And the reason for this,” Paul says, “is because you are God’s temple. God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.”

Now listen to our second passage:

1 Corinthians 6: 19-20

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you were bought with a price; therefore honor God in your body.

In the first passage that was read, Paul says that the whole church – the Body of Christ – is God’s new Temple. But when we examine both the Greek and context of this second passage, Paul is now speaking to -- the individual Christian believer. He’s no longer addressing the community. He’s talking to individual Christians and telling each of them that their body is God’s Temple.

Now remember, the point of the Temple was that God lived there. And what Paul is saying now is that being a Christian is about God living inside of you through the person of the Holy Spirit. And so for Paul, Christians don’t just encounter the Spirit sporadically – like when they pray, or read the Bible, or do some other fun religious activity – like, I don’t know, playing laser tag - which we just happen to be doing tomorrow night around 8 PM at the Blazer Tag Adventure Center located at 1701 West Ben White Boulevard – you know, if you happen to be free. But for Paul, the Spirit of God takes up permanent residence in the person who believes. According to Ephesians we can grieve the spirit (4:30), but there’s no such thing as telling the Spirit to take a vacation while we go off on our own. Because the gift of the Spirit is permanent. The old Biblical adage “the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away” doesn’t apply here. And that’s why the gift of the Spirit, according to Paul, is both precious and costly. In Paul’s own words, “you were bought with a price.” And of course Paul is referring to C2, which is _______ ? The cross. In other words, Jesus paid the price of his own life, the price of his own blood, for you and for me. And so the question is why? Why were we bought at a price?

Well, typically speaking, people only pay a high price for things they love – for things they intend to cherish and nurture and guard and keep and take care of. For example, imagine paying a lot of money for a rare, antique book and then tearing out a few of its pages to blow your nose. Or imagine paying a lot of money for a tangerine crocodile Birkin and then tossing it to a drunken friend in need of a barf bag. It’s a ridiculous thought. For that book was bought with a price, therefore you’d honor that book. For that Birkin was bought with a price, therefore you’d honor that tangerine crocodile designer handbag. Because we tend to honor things that pay a high price for.

But here’s the thing. We’re not a book. And we’re not a handbag. Building off last week’s theme, we’re humans made in the image of a Trinitarian God. And the price that God paid for you and for me is far greater than anything that we could ever pay for a book – or a designer purse. And that’s kind of what Paul is trying to tell the Corinthians. Paul is trying to tell each one of them that God, in His perfect providence, has hand-picked each and every one of them to be His new temple. He’s trying to get them to understand that each one of them has been “bought” at a tremendous price. “For you were bought with a price,” Paul says, “therefore honor God in your body.” Because Jesus didn’t die for us just so that we wouldn’t be punished for our sins. Being saved from death is only a part of our salvation. But Jesus died for us so that God could cherish and nurture and guard and keep and take care of each one of us. He died to take up permanent residence in all who believe. He died so that each of our bodies would become God’s new Temple.

And here’s the question I’d like us to consider. If the Body of Christ is God’s new Temple, and if each of our bodies is a temple for the Holy Spirit, what does that mean for us who are training in the ways of Christian discipleship?

First, if the Body of Christ is God’s new temple and each of us is God’s new temple - that means that we, as a church, are to be the place on this earth where the Living God chooses to dwell – the place where heaven and earth come together. If a friend were to ask you, where can I encounter God? You should be able to confidently point them to this community and to say “right here.” Because we are God’s Temple. And the same is true at the individual level. Our primary goal in life should be to say with Paul, “it is no longer I that lives, but Christ that lives in me” (Gal 2:20). Or to say with John the Baptist, “Jesus must increase, but I must decrease” (Jn 3:30). And so our primary vocation – as a church and as individuals – is to be God’s home. That’s first and foremost what it means for us to be a temple.

And so the question is, how do we do that?

Sacrifice. Remember, the temple is where sacrifices are offered and accepted by God. To quote Paul in his letter to the Romans, “I appeal to you, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Rom 12:1). Someone once said that the problem with living sacrifices is that they’re always trying to crawl off the altar. But part of our vocation – as a church and as individuals – is to offer our lives as a sacrifice to others. Just as Jesus laid down his life in love for us, we too are to lay our lives down in love for one another and for the world. And so sacrifice is also at the heart of what it means to be a temple.

Before I send us off to small groups, I want to go back to Jerod for a second. Whenever we workout and I’m about to start a set, Jerod always gets in my face and abusively screams at me and this is what he says: “get your mind right.” I don’t think our body is a machine, but because I do think it’s a temple, I like Jerod’s advice. Get your mind right. Or to quote Paul again, “be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Rom 12:2). Because it takes a lot of faith and courage and reminding to believe that God, in His perfect providence, has hand-picked each and every one of us to be His new temple. It takes a lot of faith and courage and reminding to believe that each one of us has been “bought” at a tremendous price. And it takes a lot of faith and courage and reminding to believe that we – as a church and as individuals – are God’s new Temple.

And so to return to Jerod’s question – what are you on? What fuels your body? Because in the Christian life, as we train in the ways of Christian discipleship, we should strive to live lives – as a church and as individuals – that are fueled by the Spirit of God. And far from being an abusive relationship, the Spirit intends to cherish and nurture and guard and keep and take care of each one of us, so that we can go and do the same for the world.

But it takes work on our part. We who train in the ways of Christian discipleship always have to “get our mind right.” And it takes prayer and diligence and commitment. And so the question I leave us with is, on a scale between 1 and 10, how bad do we want it?

sermon: finding jesus in what's ordinary

II Kings 5:1-14
Epiphany 6, Year B

I’ve always appreciated fine literature. In fact, my favorite book has always been a classic by the name of - Where’s Waldo? If you’re unfamiliar, it’s a pretty easy read. Probably because it has no words. Because the point of Where’s Waldo is literally to find Waldo – an ordinary, geeky looking dude with glasses, a striped shirt, and a goofy hat. And the author assures us that Waldo is on every page – but as a kid, I didn’t believe it. And to be honest, I still have my doubts. Because finding Waldo was hard. And it was hard because Waldo, to be quite honest, just looked so ordinary. And the author has this knack for hiding Waldo in the very place that you least expect to find him. [1] And because Waldo looks so ordinary, finding him requires patience. And intentionality. And a decision to cling to the author’s promise that Waldo is present on every page. Because finding what’s special in the midst of what’s ordinary is not a skill that we’re born with. It’s something we learn. But if you and I intend to follow Jesus, it’s a skill we need to learn. Because our God, in all of His glory, splendor, and might, hides himself in the midst of what’s ordinary.

Let’s consider the story of Namaan recorded in II Kings. Naaman was a military man. In fact, we’re told he’s a “great man” – a man of means. After all, you don’t become the general of the king’s army by accident. Naaman had distinguished himself. If there was a hill to be taken, a battle to be won, a king to be killed – Naaman knew how to get it done. And Namaan, in the context of tonight’s reading has just defeated the Israelites and killed their king. And so Naaman is at the height of his career – he’s a national hero. Influence, wealth, power – Naaman has it all. Until - one day Namaan wakes up and sees a little patch of discolored skin on his body. And so Naaman approaches the king’s physician and hears his diagnosis. Leprosy. Naaman, we’re told, is a leper.

And so when a young slave-girl tells him that there’s help in the land of Israel, Naaman is desperate and returns to the very land he’s just plundered. It’s hard to emphasize how desperate Namaan is, and so you’d think that he’d be humble knocking on Elisha’s door. But he’s not – because when Elisha sends out an intern that tells him to wash in the Jordan River – Namaan gets furious. Because that’s the last thing Namaan was expecting to hear. Namaan was expecting something loud and flashy and showy. He knows how healing is supposed to work – he watched his fair share of the Trinity Broadcasting Network. And so Namaan’s kind of expecting Elisha to emerge from his home in a white three piece suit and to pray in big southern accident before waving his hands around and dramatically heal his leprosy. But instead, God sends him Elisha’s intern. And so listen to what Namaan says: "I thought that for me the prophet would surely come out himself, and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and would waive his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!” You see, Namaan was expecting God to do something flashy and loud and showy. But God doesn’t. Because our God, in all of His glory, splendor, and might, hides himself in the midst of what’s ordinary.

And so the question I’d like to ask us this morning is, where do we expect to find God? You see, our God is a God of burning bushes and empty tombs and road to Damascus experiences. But - if we take our Biblical story seriously, more often than not, God hides himself in the midst of what’s ordinary.

You see, this isn’t something Namaan – “great man” that he was – understood. Namaan expected a flashy prophet and a dramatic healing. Are we like Namaan - expecting God to meet us on our terms – whatever those terms may be? Or, are we open to God meeting us on His terms? Where do we expect to find God?

In a matter of moments we will receive ordinary bread and ordinary wine, and yet our faith tells us, in no uncertain terms, “this is the Body of Christ. This is the Blood of Christ.” And when our time of worship ends will be sent into the world of ordinary people. We’ll return to our ordinary families and our ordinary friends. And yet Jesus tells us, in no uncertain terms, “what you did to the least of these – to the most ordinary of these my brothers and sisters – truly I tell you, you did it to me.” Because more often than not, God hides himself in the midst of what’s ordinary.

I’m not really sure why, but one of my favorite biblical prayers is Isaiah 64:1. It says, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that even the mountains would quake at your presence.” God, would you would tear open the heavens and come down.” The good news of the Christian Gospel is that God did. In other words, that prayer was answered. That’s what Christmas is all about – God tearing open the heavens and coming down in the person of Jesus. That being said, Jesus wasn’t what anyone expected. Because Jesus, to be quite honest, looked so ordinary. To quote the prophet Isaiah, he had no majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”

You see, at the heart of our faith is the belief that God did tear open the heavens and come down. But when God did, he was born in a manger and got a job in the construction industry and ran around with peasants. In modern day terms, Jesus was a geeky looking dude with glasses, a striped shirt, and a goofy hat. On the surface, you wouldn’t have known Jesus was special. And that’s probably why no one recognized him as the answer to Isaiah’s prayer. They were all expecting the charismatic preacher in a three piece suit. But what are you expecting. Where do you expect to find God?

Maybe we’re like Namaan and expect something loud and flashy and showy. Or worst, maybe we’ve lost heart and don’t expect anything anymore. Either way, I want you to know that Jesus is alive and that he’s in our midst. And I’m willing to admit, finding Jesus can be really hard work. It requires patience. And intentionality. And a decision to cling to God’s promise that Jesus is present on every page. But he’s here. Jesus is alive. And he’s in our midst.

Because whether you believe it or not, Jesus is right around the corner. Jesus begs for money and smokes cigarettes on the frontage road of I-35. He bags groceries at HEB. He’s a partner at that big defense firm downtown. He’s sitting next to you right now. You see, Jesus has this weird knack for lurking in the very place you least expect to find him. And so if your life feels pretty ordinary – rejoice – because that means it’s a pretty good hiding place for God.

When it comes to your life, Jesus is present on every page. The question is – have we learned to live our life expecting to find him?

[1] I borrow the Waldo / Jesus typology from John Ortberg’s God is Closer than You Think. This particular book was also helpful in my application and understanding of Namaan’s story from II Kings. My application of Ortberg's thought, however, is unique and original.

omega talk: being single

Tonight’s joke seems appropriate given tonight’s topic. What is every Amish woman’s secret fantasy?

Two Mennonite.

Last semester I polled this group to see what topics you wanted to discuss in the spring. And “being single” was across the board the most popular answer. Personally, I was hoping it didn’t make the cut. And whether it’s perfect timing or horrible timing, I have to say that it’s honestly a coincidence that this talk comes the Wednesday before Valentine’s Day. And so sorry – but, alas, you the people have spoken and so tonight we’re looking at what it means to follow Jesus and to be single. Now that being said, we can’t look at being single and not touch on relationships, and we can’t talk about relationships and not talk about friendships. And so if it makes you feel better, tonight’s talk is much more broad than previously advertised.

And I have to say, this was a very difficult talk for me to write. I didn’t really know where to get started. As a rule of thumb, it’s always easier and less vulnerable to talk about being single when you’re actually in a relationship. And second, as much as I love the apostle Paul – well, he’s not tons of help in this area. Because Paul’s situation in Corinth doesn’t mirror our situation in Austin as closely as the other issues we’ll be discussing. For example, “dating” – as you and I know understand it - is a concept that would have been lost on Paul and the Corinthians. But, we’ll get to all of that soon enough. And so without further ado, we’re going to begin tonight’s talk – since we are all adults – by talking about ----- porcupines.

The porcupine is a member of the rodent family and has roughly 30,000 quills attached to its body. And each quill can be driven into an enemy. And because of that, the porcupine isn’t generally regarded as a loveable animal. Think about it, books and movies celebrate just about every animal you can think of – cats, dogs, horses, pigs, spiders, dolphins, fish, geckos, lions. Free Willy is about a killer whale. Ratatouille is about a rat. Charlotte’s Web is about a spider. But Hollywood never made any porcupine famous. And I never met a child who just “had to have one” for a pet.


Because porcupines, as a general rule, have two methods for handling relationships: withdrawal and attack. Porcupines either run for a tree or they stick out their quills. And because of that, they’re generally solitary animals. Porcupines spend a lot of time alone. But here’s the thing – porcupines don’t always want to be alone. And from time to time, a young porcupine’s thoughts will turn to love. But love turns out to be risky business when you’re a porcupine. Female porcupines are open to dinner and movie only once a year, and the female porcupine’s “no” is respected by all in the animal kingdom. And so this is the “porcupine’s dilemma.” How do you get close without getting hurt? In other words, what does it mean to be a solitary animal and yet at the same time long to connect?

Now, on the one hand – this is our dilemma too. Because we too have thousands of quills of our own that we use to keep others at a safe distance. But our barbs have names like arrogance, selfishness, insecurity, resentment, fear, and contempt. And like the porcupine, we too have learned to survive through a combination of withdrawal and attack. We hurt and find ourselves hurt by the very people we long to be closest to. And of course, this doesn’t just apply to romantic relationships. This applies to all human relationships. We all have a porcupine in our life. But here’s the thing - the problem isn’t just them. Because I’m also someone’s porcupine. And whether you realize it or not, so are you.

But here’s where the analogy falls short. We’re not porcupines. We’re humans. We bear the image of a Trinitarian God. And because of that, we were made for communion, for intimacy – with God and with other people. Our need to not be alone, unlike the porcupine, isn’t just biological – our need is spiritual. The yearning to attach and connect, to love and to be loved is the fiercest longing in the human soul. And as hard as connecting with other people can be, it’s pretty hard to find a good substitute.

Think about how the Bible opens - Genesis chapter 1. There’s this little refrain that keeps occurring. God created the heavens and the earth, and God saw that it was – fill in the blank. Good. God created the light – good. God created the ocean – good. God created the birds and the porcupines – good. But all that’s just the precursor to the final act when God creates humans in his image. Because in Genesis 2, we’re told that God created man in his own image. And God looks at this man, who bears his likeness, and God says – “not good.” To quote Genesis directly, “it is not good that the man should be alone.”


Now, what’s striking is that the Fall has not yet occurred. There is no sin, no disobedience, there’s nothing to mar the relationship between God and man. The solitary human is in a state of perfect intimacy with God. Adam is known and loved to the core of his being by his competent and loving Creator. And yet the word God uses to describe him is “alone.” And God says that his aloneness is “not good.”

The church is famous for telling lonely people not to expect too much from human relationships. By a show of hands, how many of you have heard the following statement before: “inside every human being is a God-shaped void that no other person can fill.” Well, that’s true. But tonight we’re talking about “being single,” and according to the writer of Genesis, God created inside of us a “human shaped void” that God himself will not fill. Now, I’m not saying that this void has to be filled romantically – it doesn’t. But, if it’s true that we all have a God-shaped void that humans can’t fill, it’s also true that we all have a human-shaped void that God chooses not to fill. And no substitute will fill our need for authentic human relationship.

Not money. Not busyness. Not business. Not casual sex. Not casual conversation. Not looks. Not books. Not brains. Not achievement. Not drugs. Not alcohol. Not even your daily private time with Jesus. Even though Adam was in a state of sinless perfection, Genesis tells us that he was “alone.” And God said, “not good.” And that’s why as hard as connecting with other people can be, it’s pretty hard to find a good substitute. And that’s where I’d like to begin our conversation on what it means to follow Jesus and to be single.

Now with that in mind, listen to a portion of what Paul has to say to the Corinthians.

Now, concerning the matters about which you wrote: “It is well for a man not to touch a woman.” But the husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband. But, I do wish that all were as I myself am. To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is well for them to remain unmarried as I am. But if they are not practicing self-control, they should marry.

Last week we talked about Corinth being the intellectual capital of the world and about how traveling teachers – called sophists – would pass through the town and teach the Corinthians. Well, now these sophists are teaching the Corinthians that “it is well for a man not to touch a woman.” In other words, these sophists weren’t just saying that celibacy was more noble than married life, but they went as far as to tell married people that they couldn’t have sex within their marriage. In other words, these teachers were advocating celibacy as the only path to spiritual maturity and personal holiness. And this isn’t Paul’s position at all. And if you read the entire letter, Paul basically goes back and forth. On the one hand, Paul has chosen to remain single and celibate, and part of him wants the other Corinthians to remain single and celibate too. And so unlike many in our world, Paul doesn’t think that a life of singlehood is inferior or deficient. But on the other hand, Paul knows that marriage is a gift from God – and that when God gives us a gift, we should honor and cherish it. And so the root of Paul’s message, in my opinion, is that the Christian is free. The Christian is free to enter into a sacramental, life-giving romantic relationship. And the Christian, for personal reasons or because of life circumstances, is free to abstain from those relationships. And so for me, Paul’s words to the Corinthians are helpful in two key areas. First, the Christian is free. Second, when it comes to being single or being married, both are equal in the eyes of God.

But unfortunately, that’s about as far as Paul’s words to the Corinthians will take us this week. And so for the rest of this talk, I rely on wisdom gained from the rest of scripture, common sense, and life experience. And so back to our question – what does it mean to be single and to follow Jesus?

First, following Jesus and being single means avoiding false substitutes. Like I said earlier, our yearning to attach and connect, to love and to be loved is the fiercest longing in our soul. And it can be hard to connect with other people – both romantically and platonically. But as hard as connecting with other people can be, don’t be fooled into thinking that anything but a human can fill our human shaped void. And so avoid false substitutes. And some of these false substitutes are obvious. The average American watches five hours of TV a day. Assuming these same people never miss church, that means that the average American has a TV to church ratio of 35 to 1. But some of the things we substitute for life-giving relationships are more subtle – and one of them can be excessive dating – bouncing around from relationship to relationship, or friendship to friendship – but never really connecting to another person. And so first and foremost, avoid false substitutes.

Second, following Jesus and being single means that we don’t become a porcupine – in our friendships or in other relationships. Now, obviously there’s a time to put up our quills or to run away in order to survive a situation. But the problem comes when we make a pattern of attack or withdrawal – when “fight or flight” becomes our standard way of relating to other people. Because if we’re always attacking or withdrawing from other people, then my guess is that we’re not really connecting. And so be vulnerable. Take risks. Be honest. Because if we’re not really connecting, then we’re probably traveling alone. Interestingly, a recent study found that people with poor health habits but strong social ties lived significantly longer than people with great health habits but who happened to be isolated. In other words, it’s better to eat Twinkies with friends then Brussels sprouts alone. And so don’t be a porcupine.

Finally, if you are single, learn to see this as a precious time in your life. And here’s what I mean. A relationship is life-giving and healthy to the extent that both people are secure in who they are, have confidence in who they are, and because of that are willing to offer themselves freely in love and mutuality to the other person. In my own opinion, relationships struggle and go bad when we start depending on someone else to make us feel valuable, loved, and secure – or when we depend on someone else to define our identity. Now this is tricky, because life-giving relationships should make us feel valuable, loved, and secure. But the key word is depend. Who or what do we depend on to make us feel valuable, loved, and secured? God? Another person? Our achievements and accomplishments? In other words, if we know that we have value because we’re created, loved, and saved by a God that has invested everything in us, then we’ll have the courage and the foresight to avoid false substitutes. And if we know that we’re loved not because of who we are but because of who God is, we’re not going to feel the need to run away or to put up our quills as much. And so being single, for many, is a real time of discovery. Because when you’re single, you have a lot of time to discover who you are – not decide who you are – but discover who you are – to discover the person God says you are. And to the extent that we discover our true identity as a child of God, we’ll feel more confident and secure in offering what we discover to someone else.

And so to wrap this thing up, let’s go back to the porcupines. Believe it or not, porcupines will get together from time to time. In fact, it’s been observed that porcupines will often spend days together. And what they’ll do – and I promise this is true – is pull in their quills, stand on their hind feet, touch paws, and walk around together. It’s called the “dance of the porcupines” by porcupine experts. I know it’s hard to believe, but somewhere out there two porcupines are doing the foxtrot as we speak.

But I find it miraculous that porcupines – the most solitary animal you can imagine – have learned to dance with one another. Because you and I – we’re not porcupines. We’re humans that bear the image of a Trinitarian God. And because of that we have a human-shaped void that God chooses not to fill. And so the question I leave us with, whether in our friendships or in our romantic relationships, is this: what would it look like for us to pull in our quills and start dancing?