Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The Renewal of True Religion


Sometimes people object to Christianity by saying things like, "There are too many hypocrites in the church!' I know a pastor who used to respond to that by saying, "Well, come on in—there's always room for one more!"


I'm just letting you know that this message will make us all squirm a little, and maybe a lot. The opposite of true religion is false religion, and who among us isn't guilty of a little play-acting about our religion? The problem is, we're usually not fooling anyone.


A rather pompous pastor was once teaching confirmation class, and was trying to impress upon the students the value of living a Christian life. After a rather lengthy introduction, the pastor asked his payoff question, "Why do people call me a Christian?"


After a moment's pause, one youngster said, "Maybe it's because they don't know you."


Who among us doesn't have a public face and a private face? Who among us does not know the embarrassment of having the mask slip, exposing the private face for all to see? Will the real you please step forward? Although we can be phonies and not practice what we preach, God calls you and me to practice true religion, which means that we say with our lips and our lives, "I am not good; I am forgiven."


In each Gospel, Jesus spends a significant amount of time speaking out against the Pharisees, who proudly called attention to their own good deeds but were actually loveless toward others. In other words, they did not practice what they preached.


Nobody likes a phony, but we are probably better at spotting phoniness in others than we are spotting it in ourselves. The insincerity of a phony is eventually discovered. The phony likes to use people. The phony is usually thinking, "Me First." The phony is a pretender.


The worst phony of all is the phony Christian. Phony, hypocritical Christians can hurt the faith of others and they eventually come to believe their own lies. Phony religion led to the excesses of the Middle Ages. Phony religion made the Reformation necessary. And phony religion isn't going anywhere—it seems to rule the airwaves and cable channels, not to mention the world wide web.


And the scariest thing about phony religion is how quietly is sneaks into our hearts and how easily it convinces us of this beautiful lie: I do good things, therefore I'm good, and if I'm good, then I have God's blessing. Yes, you heard me right. That is a lie--a beautiful lie, one that resonates with us very deeply--but a lie nonetheless. If only good people can be accepted by a good God and His good followers, then we are all lost. Do not think God can be fooled. Don't think you can throw God off your trail with a few good deed decoys. The Pharisees followed 613 rules that interpreted the commands of God, but Jesus still described them as white-washed tombs, beautiful on the outside, and on the inside filled with death, because their hearts were far from God. Although they were devoted to doing good things, they somehow were not in love with God. Does that sound familiar to you?


Well, don't be afraid. Jesus did not come looking for quote-unquote good people. Nowhere does Jesus say, "I'm building my church and only the good people may apply." Jesus confounded the do-gooders and astounded the outsiders by claiming that the type of people God wants are people that are painfully aware of how good they are not.


The renewal of true religion happens when we confess that the religion of our goodness is false. True religion happens when we know that we are lost sheep who have been found by the Shepherd. This is the true Christian faith. You have a God who receives you and communes with you. He does not leave you in your sins, but changes your heart with His love, so that you are able to say, "There is hope for others—look at what God has done and is still doing with someone like me."


Can you see in your life where phony religion can be overcome by the true religion that comes from the cross of Jesus?


The renewal of true religion happens when we confess that the religion of our goodness is false. The focus is all wrong. True religion locks into place when we make sure that our focus is on Jesus. In His suffering, he paid the price I should've had to pay for my sins, but Jesus wouldn't let me. I know in my heart of hearts that I am not good; but I am forgiven. In spite of my lame, half-hearted, hypocritical attempts to "do good," Jesus gives me His goodness and invites me to wear it like it's my own, but it is all about Him. We need to say this when there is conflict, so that repentance leading to forgiveness becomes a way of life for us. We need to say this to our children, so that they don't go around burdened with the guilt of not being good, but are free in the joy of being forgiven. We need to say this in our churches so that no one fails to enter them because they feel unworthy, and we need to say this in our church so that no one who enters this place leaves without being invited to experience real forgiveness and renewal in Jesus.


A pastor once overheard a woman who was a member of the church talking to a stranger who was sitting in the back pew. "May I help you?" the woman asked. "No," said the stranger. "I only came into this church to pray. I'm not really a member anywhere." "Well," the woman said, I want you to know that whatever burdens you have, you don't need to bear them alone. Our people will help you to bear your cross."


The renewal of true religion happens when you remember just how much you have been helped by Christ and begin looking for others to help. It is service rendered not out of fear or obligation, but service rendered out of thankfulness. Or, to say it another way, you do what you do because you love Jesus. To be loved by Father, Son and Spirit and to love Him in return—and to love other people as an offshoot of that relationship—goes beyond mere religion. It is the life we're all looking for, and it is here for you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Thirsty?

Thirst is the craving for fluids, and that craving is a result of one of two things: either you are low on fluids, and your body is telling you to fill up; or you have too much of something—like salt—in your system, and your body is telling you to flush it out.

Once upon a time I was hiking near Mt. Charleston, Nevada, and I mean to tell you, it was hot. At the same time, it was your classic "dry heat," so you don't really have the sensation of being that sweaty. But I'll never forget the first time we stopped for a water break. I got the water out and started drinking, and it was like something inside me took over, because I just kept drinking and drinking, guzzling down this water like there was no tomorrow. I hadn't even felt that thirsty, but my body was telling me that yes, I needed water right now. I kept up with frequent drink breaks the rest of the way.

There is an urgency to physical thirst that is pretty easy to understand. In very cool temperatures, ten days is about the outer limits of how long you will live without taking in any water. Raise the high temperature to 100 degrees and you're looking at 5 days, max. There is no life without water—it's as simple as that.

Jesus says, "Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." He said these words to a woman that he met at the town well. Even though Jesus had asked her for a drink of water, it turns out that she was the one with the thirst, and it was a thirst that she was having a problem quenching. It was a thirst she had tried to satisfy in relationships with men, but five husbands later—six if you count the live-in boyfriend—there was still something missing. With a track record like that, she's an easy target for ridicule, so let's be careful as we think about her. The truth is, we all have a Nevada-desert-heat thirst for something. Our souls are parched, and our own attempts at finding life can be pretty desperate.

Maybe you're like that Samaritan woman, and you try to quench your thirst in relationships. You crave attention and affection, praise and appreciation. You love being loved. You'll go to great lengths to get that feeling. But the thing is, people have a way of disappointing you. They don't appreciate you quite as much as you would like. They don't love you the way you wish they would. You try on one relationship after another, hoping this next one will hit the spot, but you're still thirsty.

Maybe you try to quench your thirst through achievement. By striving for excellence and success, you believe you can fill yourself up. So you work hard, you work long, you become successful, you hit each goal you set for yourself. You enjoy the fruit of your labor. But even so, when it's just you and the silence, there's an itch that you can't scratch; something gnawing at you; a thirst that your talent can't seem to touch.

Maybe you try to quench your thirst by "getting stuff." Maybe just a little bit nicer car; maybe just a little bit bigger house; maybe just a few more toys; maybe the next wave computerized gadget or the 3D HD Dolby 5.0 Surround Sound system is going to be the one that finally makes me happy. Sure, I've got dumpsters full of things that I thought would do it for me, but maybe this next one will be the one, and I can finally be satisfied. That's what the commercial promised.

Maybe you've tried to quench your thirst by literally taking a drink, or a pill, or a snort. Drugs and alcohol offer a momentary escape from that nagging soul thirst you've got. For a little while, anyway, you can stumble around having forgotten you were thirsty in the first place. But as that window of forgetfulness gets shorter and shorter, a ravenous thirst of another kind takes over; a cruel, insatiable appetite for a false peace.

And maybe you've even tried to quench your thirst by turning to religion—and by "religion" I mean the religion that human beings have invented; religion that says if you do something for God, He'll do something for you in return. Religion that says that if you start going to church, maybe bad things will stop happening to you the rest of the week. Religion that says, "God, just get me out of this predicament, and I'll do whatever you ask." But then God doesn't hold up his end of the bargain, He doesn't answer your prayer the way you asked him to; You played the game and said the words and put a few bills in the offering plate, but the thirst is still there, and you're wondering, what more am I supposed to do?

I don't think I can say it any clearer than this: your desperate soul thirst will never go away until—until—you drink deeply of Jesus Christ. He is the source from which you must draw if you want to finally be quenched and healthy and whole. Now that's beautiful poetic language, all this talk of water and thirst and so forth. But what does it really mean?

It means that you receive Jesus on His terms. As Jesus told the Samaritan woman, He is nothing less than the Messiah. The Messiah came to wage war against evil. He came to save sinners from the hellish consequences of their sins. He came to suffer and die on a cross and rise from His grave, and in so doing to dig a well that would overflow with forgiveness. To drink deeply of Jesus, then, is to humble yourself and to admit all the bad places your thirst has taken you and finally, to drink from His well of mercy. It means to guzzle down the fresh water of God's forgiveness like there is no tomorrow, because life with Him depends on it. There is no life without water, and Jesus pours it out with extravagant generosity.

Life-giving water spills from the baptismal font. Jesus pours himself into us in his holy Supper. Jesus' words take dehydrated hearts and saturate them until they're like waterlogged sponges, overflowing with grace. Jesus has bucketful after bucketful of living water to pour out for you, if you will only hold out your cup to Him in faith.

And when you do, you'll see your thirst for relationship quenched in brotherhood with your Savior and Lord. You'll see your thirst for success quenched in Jesus' victory over death. Your thirst for getting stuff will be quenched in Christ-like contentment and thankfulness for the gifts you've been given. A thirst for escape will be quenched by a confident embrace of reality in which Jesus is truly there, moment by moment with you. And your thirst for a religion that "works" will be quenched by a person…a person who loves you, a person who sacrificed everything for you and will never leave you.

The Samaritan woman had it right when she said, "Sir, give me this water." Give us this water, Lord Jesus. Amen.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Renewal of Godly Fear

Imagine that you walked into church tonight, and instead of a cross above the altar, you saw a hangman's noose. Or imagine you saw an electric chair bolted high on the chancel wall. What would you think? "Is this some kind of joke?"

And yet the cross of Jesus—an instrument of execution—is at the heart of our faith. The cross might seem like a strange place to look for renewal. Renewal implies a beginning. Calvary's cross signals an ending. Renewal implies hope, new possibilities, new ways of living. Yet if there is hope for renewal here, there is hope for renewal anywhere. If there is hope for renewal in a dying thief, there is hope for you and me. There is hope for you in this church tonight, no matter what you may have done or not done in your life. There is hope and forgiveness here. Tonight we pray the prayer of our brother, the thief: "Lord, remember me."

We're talking about the renewal of godly fear tonight, and first, let's consider when fear is appropriate. To fear God is not always bad. The dying thief on the cross first needed to feel fear of God. He knew then what he had spent his life avoiding. It doesn't matter that the world says something is right or wrong, good or bad. God alone matters. When we realize at a moment of decision that our choice will show either that we love God or that we love ourselves, that is good fear. It is godly fear. "I cannot do this, for God is present, and I will not sin against Him." That's good, godly fear.

Perhaps one of the reasons people make and break marriage vows so casually today is that there is no fear of God in them. Same goes for all of the sinful choices that are at our fingertips. Could it be that we have welcomed pop psychology into our lives, which tries to remove guilt without confessing it? Or proper fear is missing because, and how's this for irony, God does not allow the full weight of our sins to drop on us? Or maybe there's no healthy fear because, truth be told, we don't think about God all that much to begin with, until we need something, or someone to blame.

All of these reasons fell away for the thief in the moments of his execution, and they will fall away for us when we come face to face with our own death. But we cannot wait until then. For you and for your congregation, this Lent is a time for renewal of godly fear. Part of that renewal must include taking another look at the cross. But fear is not enough. The thief was filled with godly fear. But he needed more than fear, for in that fear he would soon die forever.

A pastor tells of a woman, the happy and efficient wife of a fellow pastor, who was experiencing her full share of life's sunshine and shade, but no real darkness filled her way. Then, without warning, her husband died of a heart attack, leaving her terribly alone and afraid—afraid of her own decisions, afraid of the present, afraid of the future. When the pastor visited her, he found her in a vicelike grip of fear, so much so that most of her time was spent in bed. She was so terrified she became bedridden.

When the pastor saw her a couple years later, he was amazed to find a poised, serene woman working as a receptionist in an insurance office. When the pastor asked her to explain her surprising recovery, the woman replied, "The work helped, of course, but I couldn't work at all until I faced my fear. I realized my fear was a selfish rebellion against God and what I thought was God's will. When I saw that, I began to pray that God would forgive my selfishness. And as I prayed, I became aware of God's hand reaching down to me, and the Holy Spirit moved me to reach up in faith until I clasped that hand. And then to my amazement, I found His hand clasping mine, and I knew that he really cared and that he would help me as long as I held his hand in faith."

That thief on the cross needed more than fear. And there on the cross, something clicked. He may have thought, I am guilty and I am dying. I know why I'm here. But why is Jesus here? Could God be here in my fear, my guilt, my death? Could God be here in order that my shame and guilt could somehow be transferred to Him? But how? The thief was helpless to act. He could not save himself. He could only do one thing. He could say, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." Remember me! Not my sins and guilt. Remember me!

Are those also your words tonight? If so, then the promise comes to you, as it came to him, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise." The load of sin is lifted. The guilt is gone, and with it, the fear is also gone. No matter who you are or what you have done, you can say, "I am guilty. I am not worthy to be called your child. But Jesus died for me. He gave me the promise of paradise." No matter who you are or what you've done, God says to you: "I know you. You are mine. Come and enter the place prepared for you from eternity." The thief on the cross is not the exception. The thief is the rule by which you and I die and live eternally—the rule of mercy by faith in Jesus Christ.

So, how will you spend the rest of your life? The thief spent whatever little time he had left, maybe four hours or so, living in a new kind of godly fear. It is godly reverence, the awe of living in the Lord's presence. The cross became an altar of praise. Jesus promised the kingdom to the thief, and the thief learned the awe of God. That's the other side of godly fear—to make the most of the rest of your life with holy urgency, and to do so knowing that God's kingdom is already breaking into this world.

That's the gift of paradise. Paradise is not something we claim only at the end of our lives. It claims us now. Paradise opens when we commune at the Lord's Table, when you are in awe that Jesus is there under the bread and the wine. Paradise opens when you see that God is there to be worshipped in the decisions you make, in the people you serve, in the work that you do, in the friends that you love, in the family where he has put you. Paradise opens when your Bible opens, and God's own words remind you of what's true; of who you are in Jesus and what you're here to do.

Godly fear—true awe of our great, loving, merciful God—enables us to say, "Lord, you remembered me. Help me to remember you." In Jesus' Name: Amen.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

John 3:16 (The Vaccine)

It is a major understatement to say that my world changed when my son was born. Like many fathers before me, I can remember with total clarity the first time I laid eyes on my child—the first time I held him in my arms—the first time he "urped" all over my shirt. A profound shift takes place when there he is (or there she is), and this little person now depends on you for everything! You look down at that little one, and the phrase "my treasured possession" would certainly be appropriate.

I bring this up because it adds depth to what might be the most well-known verse in the Bible: John 3: 16. Most Christians know that verse by heart, which is a good thing. The only danger is we know it so well that it doesn't touch us anymore. So today I invite those of us who have been blessed to be parents to look at John 3:16 from a parent's perspective. What does it say about God that he "gave His one and only Son"? Even if you're not a parent, but there's someone in your life that you treasure, you can begin to understand the sacrifice God made for you and me.

Now here's the scenario, and you'll have to use your imagination just a little: Let's say that you're having a typical day, whatever that is for you, and you hear a news report about a new flu virus that is starting to affect people in China. Initial reports are sketchy, but it sounds like this is a new strain of bird flu that is pretty aggressive. Within a day or two, the reports start to grow more and more intense. Entire villages are being quarantined; the World Health Organization is issuing measured statements; internet rumors suggest an 85% death rate for those infected.

Within a week's time, the world is plunged into a panic, as infections are reported in an ever-widening area; Officials are fairly sure that some people are carrying the disease on overseas flights, and there's very little that can be done about the virus' spread. Phrases like "the new Black Plague" are being used in media coverage as the rumors turn out to be true: Almost 90% of those who have contracted this virus have died and there are whispers of a 100% mortality rate.

About ten days out from the original report, the first confirmed American cases come to light, on both east and west coasts. National hysteria is just barely being suppressed. And in the middle of all this, you get a phone call from your family doctor, asking you to come in to the office right away.

You do so, and when you enter his office, you are stunned to see a well dressed gentleman flanked by two military officers, and you are invited to take a seat. What your family doctor has to say shakes you to the core. Through a series of routine tests, it has been determined by a team of government doctors and research scientists that your child--your treasured possession—has a one-in-a-billion genetic sequence that holds the key to stopping the deadly virus. From your own child, a vaccine could be produced that could literally save the world. Ah, but there is catch…and you felt there was the moment you stepped in the room. The catch is, in order to extract the gene sequence in a useful way, your child will have to be exposed to the virus, and will, without doubt, die a horrible, painful death. What you are being asked to do is to sign off on this procedure—a procedure that will kill your child, but give life to the world. So what do you say? Will you go through with it?


John 3: 16 tells us that God the Father did just that—and that's the gospel truth! That's the good news we preach and believe in. The deadly virus is the virus of sin, and it infects us all. The virus of sin makes us sick and weak and the mortality rate of this virus remains at 100%.Without waiting to be asked, God signed off on the procedure that would create the vaccine against sin. He gave the green light to the cross; to the procedure that would kill his Son. He went ahead with it, hopeful that there were people who would take this vaccine and live; hopeful that there would be people who would look to His Son and receive forgiveness through His Blood; hopeful that He could still gather a people to himself that would be his treasured possession to live with Him forever.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

He gave his only Son. What could we possibly give Him in return? Amen.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Lent: A Time for Renewal of Priorities

It is my favorite time of the year, because March Madness is upon us. The NCAA Men's basketball tournament is my favorite sporting event and it begins this weekend. Last year I had the privilege of actually attending the championship game in Indianapolis, and it was one of the best games I have ever seen, and a very memorable experience all around. More than sixty teams, some real underdogs, all vying for the right to called the best team in the land.

Although some of these teams are just happy to there, other programs will consider their season a disappointment if they do not win it all. That's the harsh reality for athletes: there can only be one #1. But, truth be told, the National Collegiate Athletic Associations' number one ranking pales in comparison to the command that God gives and the expectation that Jesus lays out here in Luke chapter 14. What God demands from his disciples is this: He needs to be your #1. There can be nothing more important to you than Him. Jesus asks you to think about it; to count the cost. Can you do it? Do you even want Him to be #1 in your life? Your answer is extremely important, because Jesus goes on to say that salt that loses its taste is no good, and it gets thrown out. If you're into a comfortable Christianity where nothing is really expected of you and you hope you don't really have to do anything in Jesus' name, this message is not for you. Clearly, we need a renewal of priorities, starting now.


Kind of scary, isn't it? This is not the gentle Jesus of our imagination; this is the real Jesus, God in the flesh, the teacher, saying to you and me, "There can only be one #1. I've got to be it. If not, you're just pretending at this." And somewhere deep in our hearts, we know that this is the type of commitment that is called for when it comes to life with Jesus. The faith in us, fighting for life, allows us to sense that God should be #1 in our lives, and that our decisions and actions ought to be in harmony with God's #1 spot. But all too often, we let go of that lifestyle. There are other concerns, other issues, other people that we prioritize above Jesus, the Son of God. Our families are an excellent example, and it is no coincidence that Jesus uses that example himself.
At first, the language here is extremely off-putting. When Jesus talks about hating father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters and even your own life, well, we almost make a little mental deal to ignore Jesus here—to pretend that He didn't just say that. But good scholarship tells us that in Biblical Hebrew, the word 'hate' can mean loving someone less than another. You don't hate them in the sense that you despise them; but "hate" in this Hebraic figure of speech means that there is a pecking order. Both are loved, but there is a favorite. So it would be valid to translate verse 26 this way: "If you want to be my follower you must love me more than your own father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, more than your own life." Now that takes the weird "hate" part out of it, but it still leaves us with an extremely difficult choice. But there can only be one #1. There will be a personal price to pay in your family if Jesus is your #1. It's true. Same thing in your daily work and your friendships. Nothing can be more important than Jesus, not sports, not your boyfriend or girlfriend, not your hobbies, not your business, not your own personal comfort. It's not hard to figure out what you love more and what you love less—just look at the decisions you make every day and where you're spending your time. It's not hard to tell where God is on your list. There can only be one #1.

A campus pastor tells of a visit with a young woman at the University of California in Berkely:

She was a brilliant student from South America, lived at International House, and had visited our University Lutheran Chapel with friends. When I called on her, she explained that she had tried to find God all her life, but without success. "Every night for nine years I read my Spanish Bible," she told me, "and prayed for faith. But God never gave it to me."

We talked some more, and finally I asked,"Did you ever pray for forgiveness?" She was silent. Then, as we talked, she made the comment that she had never broken any of the Ten Commandments. Intrigued, and not having approached anyone this way before, I went through the commandments with her, starting with the last. No, she had never coveted. No, she had never stolen. No, she had never had an adulterous thought. No, she had never sworn, etc. Finally, we got to the first commandment. "Is there anything, anything at all," I asked, "that you would place before giving yourself wholly up to God?"

She paused wistfully. "I will have to say…" and then she spoke firmly, "if anything—anything—would come in the way of my pursuing my diplomatic career, it would have to go."

The tragedy in this instance was that this dynamic young woman was gradually going blind. But her real blindness was in not seeing the Savior, who wanted to reach out and give her faith, but only through forgiveness, which she didn't think she needed.

Is there any area of your life in which you place God second? If Jesus' words have hit a nerve with you, then the thing to do is be honest. Be honest about how impossible it seems to put God at #1 in your life. Ask Him for the forgiveness that only He can offer. Come to Jesus, and look at the commitment He made to you. Jesus loved His Father more than He loved Himself. That's how He could empty himself of all majesty to become truly human. That's how He could be obedient to His Father and carry out the mission that had been given Him. What's equally true is that Jesus loved you more than He loved himself. That love, not the nails, held Him to the cross, where His total commitment to you resulted in His suffering and death. Because Jesus loves you more than He loves himself, you are spared from having to deal with sin and death on your own; you are spared from eternal separation from God. To use the Hebraic figure of speech, Jesus hated Himself and loved you. Otherwise He would have never gone near the cross. But he did. His love for His Father and His love for you is the only explanation "why."


When you trust in this Jesus and when you have been connected to Jesus through Baptism, you have access to His commitment. The apostle Paul urges us to remember our baptism and to daily "put on Christ." That is just the renewal we need every day. I don't think we really realize the great power we have been given access to. Through baptism and faith, Holy Scripture promises that we share in the mind of Jesus. We share in the humility of Jesus. We share in Jesus' way of life, which values and loves others more than self. When Jesus starts talking about carrying our own crosses, this is what He's getting at, and let's take his advice: let's count the cost, here. What does it mean to carry a cross for Jesus?


First, carrying a cross for Jesus means dying to self, meaning, I'm not # 1. This is a good thing. It means freedom from lusts and passions and being controlled by them. It means freedom from a life of trying to get more, newer, better stuff and never, ever being satisfied.. Secondly, carrying a cross for Jesus means living a life of love and sacrifice. When God is #1, we are free to commit ourselves properly to relationships that are supposed to bring blessing into our lives. That's by God's design. He wants us to serve and love our spouses, our children, our co-workers, our friends and everyone with whom we live. We can get those relationships right, because our most important relationship is right.


Too often, we stunt our own spiritual growth, because we're afraid of total commitment to Jesus. We're afraid that if we take this step, we'll miss out on something or lose the things we like. And, in truth, you will lose old ways of thinking and acting. But take a second to see what you gain when you carry a cross for Jesus. You lose old ways that lead to despair and death. You gain new life in which every moment is meaningful; no work is wasted; new life that never ends, lived at your risen and living Lord's side. There can only be one Number One. Gladly, willingly, thankfully, make it Jesus, and be renewed in your priorities. Amen.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Just Added: Morning Lenten Services

Please consider joining us at 11:00 AM on Wednesdays during Lent, as we consider the theme "A Time for Renewal." The service is the same as the one used at 7:00 PM, with the exception of it being sung a capella.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Temptations are Lies in Disguise

Temptations are Lies in Disguise

In the days of the Civil war, it was illegal to trade in cotton; but many opportunistic types tried to buy cotton in the South, run it through Union lines, and sell it at great profit in the North. One of these entrepreneurs approached a Mississippi steamboat captain and offered him $100 if he would run his cotton up the river for him. The captain declined, reminding him that it was illegal.

"I'll give you $500," said the man. "No," answered the captain. "How about $1000?" "No," the captain replied. "I'll give you $3000 to run that cotton." At that, the captain drew his pistol, and pointing at the man, said "Get off this boat. You're coming to close to my price."

That's often how temptation works. Some things the devil dangles in front of you are just not worth trying. They're stupid things you can easily pass on (with the help of God, of course).

But then there are temptations that our Enemy custom designs just for you. He fashions something that is deeply attractive to you; something that seems to offer excitement, fulfillment, power, control, or pleasure right this instant. He places it right in front of you. It's there for the taking. How do you usually respond when that happens?

You and I need to know that when we believe the lies of the devil and choose to sin, we are choosing evil. We are choosing death. I'm guessing you wouldn't think that drinking a bottle of poison is a good idea, yet when you indulge yourself in sinful behavior, that's exactly what you're doing to your heart and soul. Worse yet, as a Christian, when you give in to temptation and deliberately choose to sin, the net effect is that you're saying the death of Jesus on the cross was no big deal. Ever thought of it that way?

Now, the Bible tells us that Jesus was tempted, and that is huge for us to notice. As a man, He was targeted by Satan, just like we are. Just like you and me, he had choices to make every single day and the wrong choice, just one, would destroy everything. We know how we respond to a custom-made temptation; the question is, how did Jesus respond?

The way Jesus responded begins with this truth: every temptation that the devil serves up is a lie. Every temptation that the devil serves up is a lie. Jesus called Satan "the father of lies," because deception is his specialty. You see that in the temptations he dangles before Jesus. He tries to cause Jesus to doubt his own identity as the Son of God. Satan acts as if he has authority over creation and the kingdoms of the world. He tries to distort and manipulate God's Word, (which was the way he caused Eve to stumble back in the Garden, asking the question, "Did God really say…"?) The devil's temptations are all lies! He did it to Jesus and he does it to you.

In Southern Mexico lies a location called the Cave of the Lighted House. As you make your way to the cave you walk through a lush rain forest. The cave is fed by 20 underground springs, beautiful watercourses which teem with tiny fish. The cave itself is home to spectacular rock formations and beautiful ponds. The environment is inviting. Yet accept the invitation and you'll soon be dead, because the Cave of the Lighted House is filled with sulfur--poisonous gas. That's temptation. Satan presents something to you as inviting, exciting, attractive, and life-giving. But it is a lie. In reality, it's poisonous and toxic. Once you walk into the cave, it's too late. You're not just "getting away with something." You're not just "being naughty." You're choosing death of body and spirit. When you are being tempted, you are being lied to, and no one is going to laugh at you harder than Satan when he gets you to walk into the cave of sin. If he gets you to go in there, he has played you for a fool. You bought it, and now you've got to pay for it—with your life.


Thanks be to God that you have Someone who loves you and values you so much that He would come alongside you and say to you: "I know that you bought the devil's lies and you've got to pay for it with your life. But let me. Let me pay for it with my life. My life for yours. I want you to stay with me." That's what Jesus has done for you, for me, and for everyone. That's why he allowed himself to be brutally beaten and nailed to a cross—to make the payment that would erase your sins. And that's why we see him resisting temptation perfectly—his sacrifice on the cross had to be perfect, and it was. He had to respond to temptation perfectly, because you and I could never do that. He did, and the majesty of the gospel is that it counts for you. Your account has been credited as "paid in full" in Jesus name. In order to enjoy the benefits of this gift, all you need do is trust that Jesus has, in fact, made this payment on your behalf. Then forgiveness and new life is yours.


Part of that new life in Jesus is a new perspective on temptation and sin. The Holy Spirit will work to change the way you think and feel about walking into that Cave. In Paul's letter to Titus, he writes, "…the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say "no" to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age…" (2: 11—12) A self-controlled, upright and godly life is something that a Christian will want to pursue if he or she truly understands the gift of grace they have received in Jesus. The Christian will look to Jesus first for forgiveness and restoration and then for direction and guidance. And Jesus has a great lesson for you about resisting temptation when you examine the way he did it. In each case in today's gospel—when the devil tempts Jesus, Jesus responds with words from Holy Scripture. He is able to draw on his knowledge of Holy Scripture to combat the lies of the devil and stand for what is true. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but this is one critical reason all of us need to get into God's Word and study God's Word and know what it says— for the purpose of discerning the devil's tempting lies and saying no to them! The stronger we are in the knowledge of God's Word, the more conscious we will be of sin's high price. The stronger we are in the knowledge of God's Word, the better we will be at living in the pattern of repentance and faith. And the stronger we are in the knowledge of God's Word, the more plugged in we will be to the power of the Holy Spirit, who enables us to make godly choices in the heat of the moment.
There is a space between the moment something happens and how we respond. Maybe we ought to work to make that space larger so that we can choose better responses. Trusting in Jesus and animated by His Spirit, we can choose to not continue in a conversation that is engaged in gossip; we can choose not to let our temper out of the stall; we can choose to not stab someone in the back; we can choose to not lie or fudge to truth. We really can say no to the devil's lies. Holy Scripture says so.

One last detail: Matthew tells us that after Jesus went through this ordeal, angels came and tended to Him. Even Jesus needed to be ministered to after going through a difficult time. He received the service of angels to strengthen Him for the road ahead. That's what we are doing here today. We get beat up out there. We need to be ministered to. We need to come together so that God can give us His gifts through His messengers. We need to stand and sing "with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven" so that we remember whose side we are on…and Who is on our side.


Never forget this fact: the devil did not succeed. He failed. His lies did not prevent Jesus from being the spotless Lamb of God. His lies could not keep the Son of God in His tomb. His lies will not stop Jesus from returning to the world He saved. And his lies cannot separate you from His love. Jesus will always share His victory and His truth with you. Amen.



Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Lent: A Time for Renewal of Servanthood

In 1980, Mac Davis scored his first top ten single with the song, "It's Hard to be Humble." Here's the chorus: "O Lord, it's hard to be humble/when you're perfect in every way/I can't wait to look in the mirror/cause I get better looking each day/to know me is to love me…"

What makes the song so funny is that the character in the song really believes it. He's bought into his own hype. And dare we admit that we recognize what he's talking about? Do we laugh because this song diagnoses how ridiculous sinful pride really is?

Pride is so irresistible that it twists our attempts at humility into something else. As soon as our hearts go in the direction of "Look how humble I am! Look at how much of a servant I am," the whole thing is ruined. Humility does not advertise itself. What a struggle this is! Although we are often proud and want to control others, the Son of God, our Savior Jesus, calls you and me to be humble and to serve other people, just as He humbled Himself for us.

Imagine with me that it is the night that Jesus was betrayed. It's a few days after the ugly scene when Mrs. Zebedee came to Jesus and asked that her two sons be given positions of honor in His kingdom. Now they were all in the Upper Room where the Passover was to be celebrated. Since there were only the Twelve plus Jesus, somebody had to take on the servant's role, because their feet had to be washed before eating. Nobody moved. The food was getting cold. The one who moved would be the doormat, the fool, the loser. The servant would give up his claim to rule over the others.

Finally, someone did move. Jesus took a towel and a bowl, knelt down, and began washing their feet one by one. He did the task of a slave. And, so there could be no doubt about why he was doing this, he told them, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."

Is that what happens in your life today? A couple sits in a counselor's office, arms folded, looking away from each other, saying nothing, because they know someone has to speak. Someone has to give in, and giving in means failure, admission of guilt, humiliation, and losing. A woman walks into the church and sees the flowers neatly arranged by another member of the congregation. She arranges them flowers the way she would like them. Power. Control.

A man talks to a few friends and cons them into voting for the person he wants as head of a committee. Power. Control. A group of high school students excludes a lonely classmate from their "cool" group. Power. Control. A check for a healthy sum is given to worthy cause with the understanding that the gift-giver gets to call the shots now. Power. Control.

Are you in any of those pictures? What are the ways that you and I lack humility and look to control the action? You and I may think that our little manipulations here and there are no big deal, but they betray a much deeper problem in our hearts—the problem of being self-serving, first and foremost.

Our Lord Jesus Christ gives us a totally different picture in what He expects from us. At the beginning of this Lenten season, Jesus calls you not just to think about His action of humble service, but to be like Him in every area of your life. Think of the power plays we engage in every day: as parent over child, spouse to spouse, single person with our friends. Think of the people you work with that you try to control in little ways. Think of fellow Christians in this congregation we try to manipulate so we can have it our way in the things that are planned. DO we really want to serve—or be served?

Truly, seeing how far we fall short of being like Jesus, we need to repent; to change direction; to return to the Lord in sincerity, saying, "Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner."

It is time for renewal. It is time for a whole new orientation of your heart and mine. Tonight Servant Jesus bends down from heaven to earth to wash you clean from sin. The One crowned with thorns comes to crown you as a prince or princess of His Kingdom. The One exposed on the cross comes to wrap you in His robe of righteousness. Jesus volunteered to become a slave in order to set you free! Voluntary slavery is the way that Jesus saved you. It is the way of Christ, and it is the way of the Christian.

What does that mean? It means that if you are a parent or a child, Jesus is calling you to serve your parents or to serve your children in love, gladly doing what is best for them not out of duty or obligation, but willingly! It means that if you are married, you will submit to one another out of reverence for Christ, not keeping score but forgiving each other from the heart and moving on together. Members of Trinity, it means, by the Holy Spirit's power, making your church a community of care, a haven from selfishness, a place where people actually serve each other with the love of Jesus.

Servanthood means imitating a God who bends down into our lives; a God who kneels down to serve us; a God who loves us even to death on a cross.

Servanthood means changing; being renewed; learning that whoever wants to be great must be a servant of Servant Jesus. The power for this renewal will come to you again and again through Jesus, as you search His Word in daily devotions; as you reflect on what baptism did to you; as He gives Himself to you at His Table. That is precisely why our worship is often described as "The Divine Service"—Servant Jesus comes to serve us with His priceless gifts. What we call a Christian life is, simply, how you respond to being served by God. That is going to look and feel a lot like the voluntary slavery that set us free.

A well dressed woman from Europe was on safari in Africa. One day she visited a leper colony. There she saw a nurse bending in the dust, tending to the sores of a leperous person. The heat was intense; the flies were buzzing as she filled his infected wounds. The well-to-do woman was so taken aback by this scene of suffering that words slipped out, "Why, I wouldn't do that for all the money in the world!" Without looking up from her work, the nurse quietly replied, "Neither would I."

Are you like that nurse? Our Lord says, "Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." May this Lent be for you a time for renewal—a time where your sense of Christian servanthood is renewed. It begins and ends with Jesus. Tonight he hands you a towel and a bowl. He points you to where you should go. Most important, He goes with you…to serve. Amen.

Ash Wednesday 2011

There is something theologically rich yet profoundly difficult about putting ashes on your son's forehead...

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Are You Listening?

The story is told of Franklin Roosevelt, who often endured long receiving lines at the White House. He complained that no one really paid any attention to what was said. One day, during a reception, he decided to try an experiment. To each person who passed down the line and shook his hand, he murmured, "I murdered my grandmother this morning." The guests responded with phrases like, "Marvelous! Keep up the good work. We are proud of you. God bless you, sir." It was not till the end of the line, while greeting the ambassador from Bolivia, that his words were actually heard. Nonplussed, the ambassador leaned over and whispered, "I'm sure she had it coming."
It's not a stretch to suggest that our most important relationships depend on really listening. I think everyone knows the frustration of being ignored when you're trying to say something. Today's Gospel Lesson reminds us that there is Someone in our lives that we dare not ignore; Someone who deserves our full attention; Someone we'd better listen to...
The story of Jesus' appearance changing up there on the mountain can be bewildering to us. It suggests many things: we get a glimpse of Jesus' true glory. There is a glimpse of heaven here, as Moses and Elijah appear, talking with Jesus. The hymns that we sing on this Transfiguration Day put these themes in our mouths. But my focus is drawn to the arrival of Almighty God on that mountaintop. A bright cloud envelops them, and a voice from the cloud says, "This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased. Listen to Him!"
"This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" is the same statement made by the Father when Jesus was baptized. But the voice from the cloud speaks three new words here on the mountaintop. Those are, simply, "Listen to Him!" Listen to Him.
Doubtlessly, Peter, James and John were listening for the hammer of judgment to drop; listening for the crackle of lightning and roar of God's thunder. Those men were listening, all right, because their eyes were probably squeezed shut in terror. Then they hear the familiar voice of their Teacher, saying, "Get up. Don't be afraid." When they dare to look up, all they see is Jesus. Listen to Him. The cloud is gone. Moses and Elijah are gone. Jesus just looks like Jesus again. Listen to Him. Don't be afraid.
Are you listening to Him? Are you listening to Jesus? Who has your ear? Can you even hear Jesus over the noise of a busy life? Do you create time to listen to Him, shoving other things aside in order to take in his words?
Writer Charles Swindoll once found himself with too many commitments in too few days. He got nervous and tense about it. "I was snapping at my wife and our children, choking down my food at mealtimes, and feeling irritated at those unexpected interruptions through the day," he recalled in his book Stress Fractures. "Before long, things around our home started reflecting the patter of my hurry-up style. It was becoming unbearable.
"I distinctly remember after supper one evening, the words of our younger daughter, Colleen. She wanted to tell me something important that had happened to her at school that day. She began hurriedly, 'Daddy, I wanna tell you somethin' and I'll tell you really fast.'
"Suddenly realizing her frustration, I answered, 'Honey, you can tell me -- and you don't have to tell me really fast. Say it slowly." "I'll never forget her answer: 'Then listen slowly.'"
When you find a place and a way to "listen slowly" to Jesus—however that works for you—then you will hear the same message that greeted the terrified disciples, and it's exactly what we need to hear, too. "Don't be afraid." Those three short words sum up why Jesus came. He came to remove fear by giving himself to you.
To the person running from God, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." (John 3: 16)
To the person gripped with anxiety about the future, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "Do not worry, saying, What shall we eat? Or What shall we drink? Or What shall we wear? For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow…" (Matt. 6: 31—34)
To the person whose sins are killing them, whose guilt is weighing them down, Jesus says: "Don't be afraid. "Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. Go in peace." (Luke 7: 48, 50).
To the person at the edge of burn-out, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:30)
To the person wondering if God notices them, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 10: 29—31.)
To the person scared to death of death, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die." (John 11: 25—26) "In my Father's house are many rooms…I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. (John 14: 2—3)
To the person terrified at the thought that their life is meaningless, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last."(Matthew 16: 16) "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden…in the same way let your light shine before men that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
To the person who suspects that their questions and doubts will disqualify them from God's blessing, Jesus says: Don't be afraid. "Whoever comes to me I will never drive away. The will of Him who sent me [is this:] that I shall lose none of all that he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. For my Father's will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day." (John 6: 37—40, paraphrased)
Jesus still comes to you with his power and these words: "Don't be afraid." Listen to Him. Amen