Sunday, November 27, 2011

Wait Until Your Father Gets Home

“Just wait until your father gets home.” Did you ever hear that growing up? Maybe some of you are still hearing that today. “Wait until your father gets home.” What events do those words bring to your mind?


We are now in the season of Advent, and the whole point of Advent is to remind us that God is coming. During this season, Christians are invited to have a twin focus: we remember the first coming of the baby Jesus at Christmas, AND we look forward to His second coming as our King on Judgment Day! Let’s be candid: we often think of Advent only in terms of getting ready for Christmas. And I strongly suspect that we will do far more preparation for Christmas this year than we will for the Second Coming of Christ. Now listen; I’m a huge fan of Christmas; I’ve been to Bronner’s Christmas Wonderland in Frankenmuth, Michigan literally dozens of times. Christmas creates opportunities for us to talk about Christ in a culture that increasingly tries to silence the Christian voice! And that’s all good, as long as we acknowledge that the baby in the manger didn’t stay a baby; that he grew up into a man who would live and teach and heal and suffer and die and rise and ascend…AND…that He is most definitely coming back again! So while Christmas is wonderful, and we can’t not prepare for it, let me suggest to you that it is infinitely more important that you prepare your heart for the next arrival of Christ.


Advent reminds us: He is coming. A holy God will one day show Himself. The catch is…we are sinners. What’s our Father going to find when He gets home?


In the Old Testament Reading for today, the prophet Isaiah at first sounds quite eager to have the Father come: “Oh, that you would rend the heavens—that means rip them open—and come down!” But then, it’s like he reconsiders what he just prayed for...it seemed like a good idea at first, but Isaiah immediately puts it together: If God comes down, there’s going to be consequences! So he says to God, “Behold, you were angry, and we sinned; in our sins we have been a long time, and shall we be saved?” Um, now that I think about it, Father, maybe you coming down here is not such a great idea. Isaiah knows that God has reason to come to us in terrible judgment.


Not even our so-called good deeds can prevent God’s judgment. Isaiah admits, “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.” Even the good stuff we do is tainted with sin and self-interest. Holding up our good deeds as a reason for God to spare us is like trying to buy gold with dirt. And yet that’s exactly what conventional spiritual wisdom holds to be true. You’ve heard it before: “I’ve been a good person; I’ve tried not to hurt anybody; I’ve never stolen or cheated or murdered anyone. I’ve tried to take care of my family, so I think God’s going to look at that and let me into heaven.” The Bible describes a different reality. Isaiah has the courage to be honest at least. He says, “All our righteous deeds are like filthy rags. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, blow us away.”


Enjoying Advent yet? Looking forward to the Second Coming? This would be a terrible place to stop, wouldn’t it? Well, we can’t stop here, because it’s only half the story.


Advent means God is coming, and that fills some people with terror. Advent means your Father is coming home, and some people pretend that they don’t care—that it’s not going to affect them. But it doesn’t have to be that way with you. In fact, if the thought of God returning soon fills you with dread, then I would have to ask if you really understand the gospel.


See, the Bible is clear: God loves justice and He will deal with sin. The same Bible also makes it doubly clear: God is your loving Father. You can truly say, “I can’t wait until my Father gets home!” Isaiah says it in a wonderful way here in verse eight: “But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter, we are all the work of your hand…Remember not iniquity forever. Behold, please look, we are all your people.”


God is the potter. You are the clay. You belong to Him. You are the work of His hands. He has personally created you. You are precious to Him; so precious that He has forgotten iniquity; He has forgotten your sins; he has forgotten, the worst, most stomach-churning thing that you have ever done. Why? Because He has a bad memory? No. Because He just decided to “let it go?” No. He has forgotten your sins because they have been paid for. They have been paid for in full; they no longer appear on your account. God has forgotten your sins because they have been paid for by His Son. That was the point of the first Advent: God coming into the world as one of us.


Look inside that Christmas manger. Look inside the feeding trough. What do you see? A cute baby boy, sure. But that’s God in our flesh. He’s been born into this world to rescue us.


Look at the cross of Calvary. What do you see? That’s not just someone wrongly convicted; that’s God in the flesh, paying the cost for your sins! He’s doing it for you!


Look in that empty Easter tomb. What do you see? Nothing, right? He’s not there! He has risen! God in the flesh could not be held in the grave! As one of our hymns says, Jesus was “first to break the bonds of death.” Because He did, you will too.


That God in flesh is the same one who will return at a day and time of His choosing to take you to be with Him. Yes, this world will end. Yes, there will be a Day of Judgment, and it will be a fearsome day, a terrible day—unless you know what He’s really like—unless you know what He did through Jesus. If you know Him that way, then his appearance will be something you long for…something your whole life is aimed at. You’ll be counting on the fact that your Father is coming home to make everything new and right. If you’ve lost that expectation, God’s Word calls to you today to find it again in Jesus, God in the flesh. If you’ve lost that expectation, then you’re just existing. Trust in God’s promises that have been and will be fulfilled in Jesus and start living again. Start living a life that’s not controlled by fear, but by faith.


Start living a life of faith in a God whose every impulse is controlled by fatherly love.


I’d like to paint a picture of that fatherly love, if I may. The words are not mine; they are the words of Pastor Steven Harold of British Columbia, who wrote the following:


“We were a poor family. We lived on government assistance. We had to give up on the farm and move into town. Dad got a job as a hospital janitor. After a while, he desperately needed new work shoes. The ones he wore had holes in the soles; you could see daylight through them. He had been saving money to get new work shoes.”


“At just the same time, I very much wanted a new baseball glove, which we definitely couldn’t afford. But my father put cardboard in his shoes to cover the holes and spent that money for a new baseball glove for me! Oh, I loved that glove. Dad taught me to take care of it, how to break it in the right way. But then one day, I did the unthinkable. I left the glove outside overnight, and it rained, and the glove became soaked through with water.”


“When I found it, I was heartbroken. I knew what my dad went through to get me that glove. My mother then said those famous words, “Wait until your father gets home.” I was not looking forward to his arrival.”


“Dad came home. I showed him the ball glove. I waited for the worst. What happened next completely surprised me. Dad did not get angry.”


“His eyes were wet with tears. He knew I was sorry. He knew I loved that ball glove. He knew I deserved punishment.”


“Instead, he showed me how to dry out the glove by putting it in the oven on low heat. He showed me how to rub some mink oil into the leather to preserve it. After a couple of days of this, the glove was as good as new. I waited until he came home, and he came with mercy and forgiveness and love. How my dad loved me! I was so glad he came home, and that he came home for me.”

Advent tells us our Lord is coming. Let’s take the last prayer recorded in the Bible and pray it eagerly, today and every day, from Revelation 22: 20: “Come, Lord Jesus.”

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Discoveries of Judgment

In 2006, scientists gazed into the heavens. A spacecraft was returning from a seven-year mission and brought with it particles of comet dust. Having gazed into the heavens, the scientists now gazed through microscopes at the dust of heaven, hoping to discover within this material clues to the mystery of life.


Before science became the final court of meaning, however, artists were busy gazing into the heavens, creating paintings of a different court and of a different day: a day of judgment, when Christ would return and reveal for all people the meaning of life.


Taking a quick glance through paintings of the last judgment, one discovers a common theme. The heavens are torn open as Christ descends on a throne and the earth is breaking apart as the dead rise from their graves. While the paintings are usually too busy, with many human bodies mixed together with many angels and demons, one factor is fairly consistent. If you look closely; if you stare at the face of just one human being, you’ll find on that face a look of discovery. People look as if they’re waking from sleep and only beginning to discover the meaning of the world, of their Lord, of the life that once surrounded them.


In Matthew’s gospel, we learn exactly what those people are discovering. A division takes place on the Last Day: a division between sheep and goats. Those who are right with God—the sheep—will inherit the kingdom of God, while the goats—those who rejected God in this life—will enter into unimaginable torment. What they are discovering is which one they are. What we have to have an answer to as we think about the coming judgment is this: What is the dividing line? What makes a sheep a sheep and a goat a goat?


Let’s back up for a second. As we think about Judgment Day—a Day the Bible says is absolutely going to come—we need to know God calls us not to speculation but to preparation. Scripture develops a picture of that preparation for us. Preparing for Jesus’ return includes diligent use of God’s Word. Preparing for Jesus’ return includes investing ourselves in His kingdom, making the most of the talents He’s given us. Jesus adds to the picture today. Within the drama of this division between sheep and goats, Jesus teaches that preparing for his return includes service to our fellow human beings. I’m sure you noticed in this scenario that the sheep were the ones who served the hungry; the homeless; the poor; the sick; the prisoner. So, is that it? Is that the answer to the question, what makes a sheep and sheep and a goat a goat? Well, in a sense the sheep are identified as having served others—but we need to know why. That’s the key. Why do the sheep serve others?


They serve because that’s who they are. They do not serve to save themselves. In fact, in the story, they seem shocked to discover that they were actually serving Jesus when they were serving people. Again, the sheep serve because they have been named heirs of the kingdom. Please notice, that naming is God’s activity! That’s His action! That’s the Father’s will and testament. The sheep—those who, in faith, serve others—are simply reacting to what God has said and done in Christ. Nothing Jesus says here challenges our understanding of how God saves people. The hymn writer Paul Speratus said it well when he wrote: “For faith alone can justify; works serve our neighbor and supply the proof that faith is living.” The service the sheep are engaged in is an unavoidable result of living faith! In other words, with faith in Christ in their hearts, they can’t help it. They can’t stop it. They don’t want to stop it. They’ve been freed to serve. Serving others, for the sheep, is not “I ought to.” Instead, it’s “I get to! I want to! I love to!”


So are you a sheep? How do you know? Don’t look to your works. Just ask yourself, have you been named an heir of God’s kingdom? Have you been baptized into the family name—the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? Your baptism makes this a matter of family identity. It is an act of undeserved love on God’s part in adopting you. Not only that, baptism creates faith—faith that relies completely on the death and resurrection of Jesus for eternal life. That very same faith cannot help but carry with it actions—service to others—call them “good works” if you must. I like to think of it as Jesus’ love being poured into you, and He just keeps pouring it in until it spills over, out of us and into the lives of others. That’s just what happens when you’ve connected to Christ Jesus through faith. The good things we do are God’s mercy spilling out of us. That’s the life God wants for you.


In this portrait of Judgment Day, on the other side of the aisle you’ve got the goats, and what a sad, pathetic group this is. Did you notice—they ask exactly the same question the sheep did: “Lord, when did we see you hungry, thirsty, in jail?” But they’re asking for a different reason. You see, all too late, the goats are really saying, “Lord, if we would’ve known it was you, of course we would’ve served you. But all we saw was this homeless guy! All we saw was an ex-convict! All we saw was a woman with a bad reputation! All we saw was someone with no way of paying us back—someone who probably wouldn’t appreciate our help anyway! If we would’ve known it was you behind the mask, we would’ve fallen all over ourselves to serve you!”


And the King replies, “You had your chance.” Now why do you think Jesus tells this story ahead of time—in advance of the judgment? What’s scary is that sometimes sheep can think and act like goats! Sometimes sheep can come up with all kinds of wise-sounding reasons why certain people should not be served or helped. I don’t see that kind of wiggle room in this story. Do you? The goats, who are identified by their lack of action, are not spared.


It reminds me of a brief story, about a well-dressed European woman who took a tour of Africa. Her group happened to stop at hospital for those afflicted with leprosy. The heat was intense. Flies were buzzing around. This woman noticed a nurse bending down on the dirt floor, tending to the pus-filled sores of a leper. Sick to her stomach, the woman said, “Why, I wouldn’t do that for all the money in the world.”


Without looking up, the nurse quietly replied, “Neither would I.”


That nurse was not working for reward. She was working for the Lord. She was willing to wade into someone else’s pain and misery and to try to bring comfort—why? Because that’s what Jesus does. He will use you the same way if you let Him. He may not send you to Africa, but will make you an agent of His mercy; a carrier of His kindness; a distributor of His strength and truth. He will pour His compassion into you until it spills over. That is why you are here. That is why God’s flock remains in this desperate, groaning world. The sheep are the ones who serve the world with the Shepherd’s riches.

Who can you help? Whom can you serve? Keep asking that question, and I guarantee that Jesus, will show you. When He shows you, follow through and serve, knowing that whatever you do for the least of these brothers, you do for Him. It is Christ you are serving. What a discovery.