Eternity Church PodCast

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

What must it have been like for Job when God showed up! One second the young Elihu is encouraging Job to “Keep listening to the thunder of His voice and the rumbling that comes from His mouth [because] God thunders wondrously with His voice; He does great things that we cannot comprehend,” and “then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind” (Job 37.2,5; 38.1)!!!

Job’s been desperate for God to show up, to answer His unanswered appeals. Maybe you’ve felt like that, thinking, “If God would just show up and answer me, I could move on with my life!” What Job experienced—all the extreme audiovisuals aside—is the same God who speaks to us today. He begins by making us aware of His presence. He doesn’t always show up in a hurricane or in grand visions (check out Ezekiel 1). Sometimes, God reveals His presence quietly with a still small voice (1 Kings 19.11-13).

God makes us aware of His presence and then He answers (but probably not in the way we expected). God answers us like He did Job: with questions. Yes, questions! This can hardly feel like what we were waiting for! More questions? Really?! Eritrean theologian Tewoldemedhin Habtu, reflecting on Job 38-39, believes, “Questions are an effective way of teaching, because they force the learner to think for himself.”

Friends, isn’t that just like God? His presence ministers to us and then His questions broaden our tunnel vision perspective. We want God to make sense of our suffering, but instead, God lovingly (and at times quite amusingly) asks us questions far beyond our capacity. God’s questions generously invited Job to loosen his grip on bitterness and disillusionment by contemplating God’s kindness toward His whole creation.

As you spend time in God’s presence this week, give your questions a rest and listen to the questions He’s asking you. Listen to the voice of the One who endows the heart with wisdom and gives understanding to the mind (Job 38.36). You might be surprised what you learn.

A Sunday sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

I once found myself in conversation with a futurist. He’d published several books and was well-known for his study of the future and his predictions on where things were headed. At times it was as if he was looking past the curve of the earth and seeing what tomorrow was bringing. When I asked him how he went about making his predictions for the future, his response was just as surprising. He said the best way to predict what will happen tomorrow is to be fully present today.

What a short answer but such a tall order. As we’ve been reading the book of Ruth, we’ve seen Naomi overcome by the suffering of yesterday, overwhelmed with the difficulties of today, and full of anxieties for tomorrow. It would be easy to predict a tragic ending if this was the sum and substance of the book! But all of that is outweighed by the actions of two people. Ruth’s friendship and Boaz’ covenant obedience foreshadow the hope of chapter four. If we’ve read each chapter well, the kindness of God, poured out through Ruth and Boaz into the life of Naomi, tells us where the story's going.

Friends, being present today in Christ, we know what the future holds, we can see where our story’s headed. In Jesus, the hope of overmorrow colors every day and every dawning. In Jesus, eternal hope is written on every page and every paragraph of our lives. We feel this hope in the Holy Spirit’s invitation to unpack our past. We see it in the fellowship of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We perceive it in the empowering move of the Spirit calling us to deeper faith, to greater trust. Knowing the kindness of God, we are giving new space to surrender our anxieties, bringing our prayers and petitions to the Father with hopeful confidence, as the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guards our hearts our minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4.6-7).

Today, be present in someone else’s life. Share with them the hope of overmorrow, your hope for eternity.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

I think Mark Twain was right when he said, “Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” The little book of Ruth is driven by kindness. Amid famine, decimation, and loss, the whisper of kindness soothes deafened ears. In the clashing cymbals of time, when the cacophony of anxiety and worry flood our vision, kindness reveals the movement of God’s invisible hand.

To paraphrase Nietzsche, an enduring kindness in the same direction is transformative. Where Naomi was left embittered by past pain, kindness led her into renewed freedom for today. Where Ruth, a young widow was left caring for her devastated mother-in-law, kindness led her into a renewed assurance for the future. Where we have been is not permanent. It’s where we are, but it doesn’t have to be where our story ends. Kindness, born from the love of God into our lives and relationships, transforms our doubt and despair into renewed hope for eternity.

This week, be inspired by the kindness that transformed Naomi’s life. In the first chapter she was blinded by her loss, unable to escape the shroud of bitterness that consumed her past. In the second chapter, she was semi-conscious as Ruth went out to provide for them in their present poverty. But in the third chapter, Naomi was the one looking to the future. Kindness rekindled the fire in her eyes. Transformed by kindness, Naomi told Ruth, “Wash, put on perfume, get dressed in your best clothes and go” (Ruth 3.3-4a). Naomi was inspired to hope again by the enduring kindness of those around her. May the same be said of us.

A Sunday morning sermon by Peter DuMont.

Gregory Wagenfuhr, member of the ECO Standing Theology Committee, has spoken of time as a difficult thing to live within. In his telling, we are continually ground between two stones: between processing and making sense of the past, and anticipating and planning for the future. Our task as humans is to live between the weight of past experience and the looming shapes and questions of the future.

 

 In this pressure-packed space, it can be very easy to become paralyzed, overwhelmed, discouraged, distracted, or addicted. In the process, we can find ourselves losing our sense of agency, power, and freedom, the things that make us human! We lose our sense of being alive and empowered within our present moment, our “today.”

 

 Into this dilemma, the reign of God the Father, the victory of Jesus, and the filling of the Holy Spirit function together to bring liberty from our captivity and enable us to live powerfully within each successive present moment of our lives.

 

 Ruth is an example of someone who triumphs through this vitality and trusting action within her present. She experiences deep loss and dislocation, yet she ultimately encounters the greatness of God’s purposes as she acts decisively within her present moment—God’s actions meeting her actions!

 

 May we move toward worship this Sunday preparing our hearts to encounter the Lord of Life who has worked, is working, and will work to give us freedom to be and become who we are made and called to be—one “today” at a time!

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

Every year during the festival of Weeks, the time more commonly known as Pentecost, the people of God would read the little book of Ruth. Annually they would take this short story from their past and listen to it again as it spoke into the current realities they were facing as well as the unknown, unseen possibilities of the future. Starting Sunday, we will walk in the fullness of Pentecost, reflecting on the story of Naomi and Ruth and what their Spirit-inspired story reveals to us about yesterday, today, tomorrow, and overmorrow. 

Most likely, you’re well-acquainted with the first three time orientations, but that fourth might be new. Always a fan of a nuanced word, I stumbled across the Old English word while praying about this series. Overmorrow, in its simplest definition, is the day after tomorrow. Why did we ever stop saying it!? That little word lit my brain on fire!

As I read and reread Ruth, I watched these four time stamps come alive. I found my soul kindled by the bright fire of overmorrow, illuminating hope beyond the horizon of tomorrow. But we only arrive at overmorrow by walking through yesterday, today, and tomorrow. We all, like Naomi and Ruth, have painful stories in our past. Our yesterday’s tragedies can easily swallow up any hope we might have for the future. Ruth 1 does not shy away from the lamentable story of yesterday. It lays the weight of the past heavily on our shoulders with all its grief and tragedy. But it does not leave us there. Before we arrive at today, there is a glimpse, a glimmer…a hope of overmorrow.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

Elise and I just got back from our own Emmaus road. We set out walking from our Jerusalem, like Cleopas and his companion into the unknown. And walk we did! Over the last two weeks we averaged six miles a day. Our peripatetic journey took us across the British isles. We worshiped in Westminster and Glasgow, the castle heights of Edinburgh and the cliffs of Howth. But of all the amazing places we visited, there was one spot I was particularly excited to visit in the small village of Kirkwall. And we reached it right on time. 

Forty days after the resurrection, Jesus took His disciples to a hillside near Bethany and, raising His hands, blessed them as He ascended to the Father. They watched, worshiping and amazed, as He was lifted beyond the clouds. On May 29th, Ascension Day, Elise and I arrived on Orkney Island, where in 1137, Viking Christians began building a church known as the Light of the North. It is the oldest cathedral in all of Scotland. For 900 years, followers of Jesus have gathered in this beautiful church and celebrated the ascension of our Lord.

But what do we do once Jesus, who walked with us on the road, has ascended into the heavens? What are we to do now? Like the disciples before us, we return to Jerusalem with great joy, blessing God and expectantly awaiting the promise of the Father (Luke 24.52-53; Acts 1.4). As we gather this Sunday in anticipation of Pentecost, let’s prepare our hearts for a fresh outpouring of God’s Spirit among us!

A Sunday sermon by Peter DuMont.

Why do we worship Jesus? 

 

 Six weeks ago we gathered on Easter Sunday with a palpable sense of joy to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection. Since then we have been walking through his disciples experience of grief, disorientation, and sorrow between his death and resurrection. This week we arrive at the incredible finale to Jesus’ earthly ministry where he is revealed in resurrection wholeness to his gathered disciples.

  

 Seeing him is staggering to the disciples, but Jesus does more than just shock them—he leads them through the Law, the Prophets, and his own teachings to explain the new reality his resurrection brings. He guides them backward into remembrance of God’s promises now being fulfilled, and forward into God’s future purposes.

  

 Jesus places himself at the center of history and commissions his disciples into a life of witness. A witness borne not from human wisdom or enthusiasm but wrapped in power that the Father promised…power to be revealed at Pentecost.

 

 Let us come to worship Jesus the Lamb of God this Sunday, asking to have our hearts and minds opened to greater wonder and joy at the dimensions of his triumphant reality.

A Sunday morning sermon by Kathleen Hudson.

It is not an altogether uncommon experience in our home for someone to shout out to another person asking where something is. The irony of this is that, often, the person seeking what they cannot find is positioned directly in front of the “missing” item. The one called walks in and quickly grabs the item and hands it to them. Now, say it with me if you can hear it reverberate in your own head:

 “How did I miss that?”

 

 That’s where we find ourselves this week in the walk to Emmaus with Cleopas and his companion, asking ourselves how did they miss that it was Jesus walking with them? Certainly, you or I would have immediately recognized our Lord and Savior. There is no doubt that we would have been overwhelmed by God’s presence and stopped everything we were doing. Right?

 

 Hindsight is 20/20, the saying goes, but often in the midst of grief and the feeling of being lost in an unexpected overturn of how we expected life to be, we see very dimly. We cling to what is familiar and let go of the hope Jesus provides in his resurrection. We retreat to our protective shells and pull the stone back over the covering of our tombs.

 

 This week I invite you to look for Jesus in your ordinary. The greatest reality is that Jesus has never left us, and even when we walk down dusty roads after great loss, our Messiah lives.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

After moving back to Kenya for my senior year, I was flying home for a break. Without a direct flight between the island and Nairobi, I stopped in Cameroon on my way. Landing in Douala, the port city close to Malabo, I heard from a friend that a well-known author was in Yaoundé leading a spiritual emphasis week for the group of Bible translators I’d lived with the year before. I’d recently devoured his book on God’s missionary call for His people and wanted to meet with him, speak with him. My young mind wanted to see if talking with him might help me connect some dots still at odds with what he’d written.

I changed my travel plans and jumped on a bus heading south. Although the event was already underway, I could at least catch the last day of his presentations. Halfway in the journey, however, the ancient and bent-up bus decided it had different plans. It broke down. And when I say it broke down, I don’t mean it sputtered or had a momentary lapse. I mean it ceased to be a bus. It gave up the automotive ghost. We had to wait for another bus to come to our rescue.

Hours later, now on a new bus, revving with vim and vigor, we continued on our way. I remember at last emerging from the tropical canopy grown over the highway revealing the red rolling hills of Yaoundé. I recognized the roads and quickly made my way to the church where the author was speaking. But because of the bus breakdown, I arrived during the last few minutes of his lectures. Crestfallen, I waited until most had left, hoping to say hello and be on my way. To my surprise, he made time for me. What began as a short greeting became a dialogue. We traded questions and theological perspectives. We moved beyond the surface of doctrinal etiquette into personal applications in our lives. We marveled together as Jesus revealed to us God’s sovereignty in the midst of our humanity. We were two disciples on an African road to Emmaus receiving Christ’s prophetic hope.

A Sunday morning sermon by Pastor Brett Deal.

After a few weeks home, it was time to fly back to Cameroon. With a new visa in my passport and a new semester ahead, I was ready to get back to work. I also had a new lease on the days ahead of me. I didn’t want to miss “why” I was in Yaoundé. We all have reasons. I realized I need to reshuffle mine. Some reasons we know. They’re written in billboard sized letters. Other reasons we think we know, but they ultimately have little real purpose in our lives. They sound good but are written in invisible ink. And, of course, there are other reasons we are largely unaware of. They are the small print, hidden under a footnote, found only in an appendix. These reasons are small but can have a massive impact on how we live.

Living in Yaoundé before my visa fiasco, I was just living day by day, school assignment by school assignment. I walked and taxied in and out of places without really being present. Knowing that I was in Cameroon for a reason, not just to finish eleventh grade, I wanted to live my faith intentionally with renewed vision. I began to see things that were too easily missed; like Lahadi.

Lahadi was a guard at a gate. I greeted him every day as I passed by. He worked for the Bible translators I was living with, but he himself didn’t know Jesus. As we talked—really talked—I wanted to share with him something in my life that’d been lost in the footnotes. I went and bought him a Bible as a gift. I started to learn a little Hausa. At first, it was just a handful of greetings, to show him how much I cared about him, that I would attempt to speak his language; but as we talked more about Jesus, I began searching for the meaningful words of faith so we could anchor this vision of the Messiah in Lahadi’s heart language. Walking with Lahadi, I wanted Jesus to join our conversation.

Friends, this is exactly what Jesus does! He meets us on our roads to Emmaus. He asks us questions, listens to our answers, and answers us from within His revelation. He speaks His heavenly truth in our earthly languages! He translates glimpses of His eternal glory into the red clay roads of our lives. 

This week, take a walk with someone. Let’s find Jesus on our way to Emmaus.