Fellowship Reformed Church of Holland

Preaching: Lindsay Small
Text: James 1:19-26

Listen Up!

19 You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; 20 for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. 21 Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.

22 But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 23 For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; 24 for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. 25 But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing.

26 If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. 27 Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

This morning, we continue our series of God’s Story: Our Story by continuing our journey through the later part of the New Testament.

Last week, Pastor Ken Eriks took us through the book of Hebrews. 

And this morning, we turn to the book James.

This particular book, the book of James, is a bit like Cilantro…you either love it or you hate it.

Theologian Martin Luther called it the book of straw and wanted it completely removed from the Bible.

Others appreciate that James doesn’t beat around the bush…he gets right to the point.

So to the point, he is, that this letter contains 60 imperatives…in a book of 108 verses.

That’s a lot of to-do in one place!

Just a bit more background:

Now there are questions about whom the author was…really, which James it was, James being as common as the name…well, James, today…

But James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the church in Jerusalem…is most often attributed to writing this book.

We don’t know much about him as a person, only that he led the Jerusalem church through difficult times.  Many of his friends had scattered… Peter to Rome, John to Ephesus, Thomas to India, and Paul as a prisoner to Rome. 

But James remained, and he writes his letter from the Christian fellowship in Jerusalem.

From the Jewish historian Josephus, we know that his service to God was abruptly cut short in 62 AD.  There was a break between Roman Governors at that time, and so the High Priest, Annas the Younger, ordered James’ execution, and it was carried out. 

And so James writes from a place of validation and clout… He had been through many trials…and so when he says that trials produce deepening character…he knows what he is talking about.  He has earned the right to say such things…all 60 imperatives.

There simply is not time to pull every thread, every theme, in the book of James…so I sought out what I thought was the hardest.

And we find it in chapter 1, verse 19, “You must understand this, my beloved, let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.”

“Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger…”

This morning, I want to talk about listening…which I realize sounds like an oxymoron…a bit antithetical to what James is saying (You sit there and LISTEN to what I have the SAY…about listening)…

But I want to open the discussion (one-sided) with something a little different this morning…

I want to begin this morning with an ‘audio illusion.’

In this experiment a spoken sentence is turned into complete nonsense using audio filters—at least as far as your brain is concerned the first time you hear it.  But then we hear the original unprocessed version…and something amazing happens.

Let’s have a listen…

Once we’ve heard the original version, we can make sense of the distorted version.

And what’s more…we can’t go back to ‘unhearing’ the distorted version.

Listening is a skill that does not happen in a bubble…we bring our past experience, our joy, our pain, our discomfort to every encounter we have.

All of this prior knowledge and experience helps us or hurts us translate new knowledge and experience.

LISTENING IS A FULL LIFE EXPERIENCE!

And so we cannot simply hear James tell us that we must be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger…without some prior experience coming to mind.

If you’re like me you’re thinking of all the times you were exactly the opposite!

Those times I jumped into a conversation before someone had finished…those times I walked into a room and started talking…without any awareness that PERHAPS a conversation had been going on BEFORE I got there…

A long time ago in a church far, far away, my husband Kyle and I met with a couple that was having martial issues. I had assessed the situation in a good five or so minutes and thought I had a pretty good handle on what was going on: it was all the husband’s fault. As the wife told us about the woes of living with her husband, my indignation grew. My thinly veiled disgust led me to jump in after a few minutes and pour forth my extremely valuable wisdom.

And then Kyle did something I did not see coming. He had seen that the husband had not been given a chance to speak. And so Kyle said, ‘for the next 5 minutes, no one is going to speak except ‘Joe.’ And if we sit here for 5 minutes in silence, so be it. Joe, your time starts now.

We sat in silence for a good two excruciating minutes. And then Joe started speaking…slowly at first…and then the floodgates opened. He didn’t pour forth anger or indignation…but an enormous sense of sadness about being misunderstood and irrelevant.

It was the breakthrough the couple needed. Not to say that everything was perfect after this event. But for this couple, silence unlocked their communication.

I wonder if any of us relate to this couple. We have removed silence from our lives. Silence with one another…silence with ourselves…silence with God.

We have filled up the space with constant chatter and busyness to the point where silence makes us nervous. To the point that two minutes of silence can seem like a lifetime…

James makes a plea for silence in the last part of chapter one.

He begins this section by indicating these are words of some urgency…”Know this!” or “You must understand this.”

And so we think that a really important point is coming…”Listen up!”

And once we do, what follows may surprise us: we are to "be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger" (19).

What? This is our purpose as Christians? What happened to going into the world and preaching the gospel? What happened to teaching and proselytizing?

We are far more accustomed to thinking that our task as Christians is to speak than that it is to listen. So this command is unexpected, and makes a person like me…doing what I’m doing…a little nervous.

James calls for quick listening…and slow speech.

He calls for long ears and short tongues.

He calls on us to listen well.

This is easier said than done…with an emphasis on SAID.

It is hard to listen well. Far too often listening consists of simply waiting for someone to finish so we can talk…and we’re not so much as listening as we are figuring our what we’re going to say next while the other person is talking.

Steven Covey says, “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand, they listen with the intent to reply.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have thought about my husband, “When is he going to stop talking so I can talk?”

Have you ever done the same?

CABLE NEWS

Slow to speak…eager to listen.

Let the silence fall…take a deep breath…show that you are truly listening.

This is the beginning of listening well.

But there’s more to it than that. Listening well is a forgotten quiet virtue. It is a spiritual practice that requires our attention.

If we are not attentive to our listening…we wind up writing a one-man show even though there is a whole cast around us.

But when we are attentive to listening well…the adverb can be turned into a noun.

To listen well is to have a listening well.

Let me explain what I mean…

A listening well is a deep reservoir of faith where the knowledge of Who God is and who we are in God’s eyes is kept, cultivated, and nurtured.

When we draw regularly from this well, the need for frivolous speech, nervous chatter and hurtful words diminishes. When we know who God is and who we are as a child of God…then we truly begin to listen well.

Wells in the Bible

Wells are valuable resources. In Scripture we read they were places of refuge, community, and relief. 

Communities that had wells have security. They did not have to wonder where their water will come from…they know they have a constant place to draw this life giving resource.

In the same way a listening well is a valuable resource…a place of refuge and relief…and a place of security.

By naming and knowing our listening well…we know that the source of our life, our identity, our love and our very being is not generated by our own means…it means that we do not have to go out and find our security in other sources…it means that we can stop justifying our existence by talking

How many times do we speak and act out of our personal insecurity… instead of resting in the strong security of God?

How many times do we speak empty words, hollow promises, and frivolous gossip…instead of resting in the promises of God?

How many times do we engage the far-too-active verbs like ‘justify’ ‘rationalize’ and ‘defend’…instead of resting in the grace of God?

Drawing from our listening well means we can take up the right-amount-of active verbs like ‘listen’ ‘help’  ‘care’ and… ‘understand.’

We tend to think of listening as something quite passive. Intelligence is judged far more on our ability to craft an argument than on our ability to shut up…when frankly shutting up is much more difficult!

Listening is a skill…a practice that requires we give up ourselves…our impulse to speak…and our desire to be right…and actively turn our attention to another.

It is an exercise in restraint and engagement of the highest degree.

And it requires us to draw from adeep well. A well not from our own source, but from God. A well that gives us security, identity, and refreshment.

This well helps us listen well, speak well and act well.

James goes on in this passage to tell us that our actions really do matter.

22: DO NOT MERELY LISTEN TO THE WORD…AND SO DECEIVE YOURSELVES.  DO WHAT IT SAYS.”

Ending in verse 28, you get a sense of what it means to do what it says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

Our actions on behalf of Christ in the world are the best tool we have to spread to gospel.  The best way for the world to know Christ is not frivolous speech what is right and what is wrong…sometimes a little too often what is wrong…but to care for orphans and widows…the vulnerable, the poor, the oppressed…

This is what we are called to do. Not to say it…but to do it.

In his wonderful book, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis documents a mock conversation between a senior demon, Screwtape, and his apprentice, Wormwood.  In this particular section, they seem to fear most these words from James after a person they are referring to has become a Christian…Screwtape writes,

“It remains to consider how we can retrieve this disaster.  The great thing is to prevent his doing anything.  As long as he does not convert it to action, it does not matter how much he thinks about this new repentance.  Let the little brute wallow in it.  Let him, if he has any bent that way, write a book about it; that is often an excellent way of sterilizing the seeds which the Enemy (God) has plants in the human soul.  Let him do anything but at.  No amount of piety in his imagination and affections will harm us if we can keep it out of his will.  As one of the humans has said, active habits are strengthened by repetition but passive ones are weakened.  The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act, and, in the long run, the less he will be able to feel.”

Let him do anything but act.  I think Satan wants us to keep our faith as an intellectual exercise and that’s all.  To keep a safe distance between the Bible and our lives.  To learn about it, to read it…but to never have it impact anything that we do once we leave this place.

We’ve heard a lot of chatter over the last few weeks…and in this election cycle…we are bound to hear far more talking than listening…

But imagine with me…

Imagine if police officers would sit down with community leaders from Black neighborhoods and listen to one another?

Imagine if Democrats would sit down Republicans and listen to one another?

Imagine if Palestinians and Israelis would sit down together and listen to one another?

I believe we would find that there is far more than unites us than divides us.

Who do you need to listen to?

Who do you need to give 5 minutes of your undivided attention?

The chaos and distortion of this world rings in our ears…and even though we try to decipher it…quite frankly it all sounds like gibberish.

But then we hear the clear message from James.

Quick to listen…Slow to Speak…Slow to Anger…

Amen.

Preaching: Lindsay Small
Text: James 1:19-26

Listen Up!

19 You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; 20 for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. 21 Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.

22 But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 23 For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; 24 for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. 25 But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing.

26 If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. 27 Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

This morning, we continue our series of God’s Story: Our Story by continuing our journey through the later part of the New Testament.

Last week, Pastor Ken Eriks took us through the book of Hebrews. 

And this morning, we turn to the book James.

This particular book, the book of James, is a bit like Cilantro…you either love it or you hate it.

Theologian Martin Luther called it the book of straw and wanted it completely removed from the Bible.

Others appreciate that James doesn’t beat around the bush…he gets right to the point.

So to the point, he is, that this letter contains 60 imperatives…in a book of 108 verses.

That’s a lot of to-do in one place!

Just a bit more background:

Now there are questions about whom the author was…really, which James it was, James being as common as the name…well, James, today…

But James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the church in Jerusalem…is most often attributed to writing this book.

We don’t know much about him as a person, only that he led the Jerusalem church through difficult times.  Many of his friends had scattered… Peter to Rome, John to Ephesus, Thomas to India, and Paul as a prisoner to Rome. 

But James remained, and he writes his letter from the Christian fellowship in Jerusalem.

From the Jewish historian Josephus, we know that his service to God was abruptly cut short in 62 AD.  There was a break between Roman Governors at that time, and so the High Priest, Annas the Younger, ordered James’ execution, and it was carried out. 

And so James writes from a place of validation and clout… He had been through many trials…and so when he says that trials produce deepening character…he knows what he is talking about.  He has earned the right to say such things…all 60 imperatives.

There simply is not time to pull every thread, every theme, in the book of James…so I sought out what I thought was the hardest.

And we find it in chapter 1, verse 19, “You must understand this, my beloved, let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.”

“Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger…”

This morning, I want to talk about listening…which I realize sounds like an oxymoron…a bit antithetical to what James is saying (You sit there and LISTEN to what I have the SAY…about listening)…

But I want to open the discussion (one-sided) with something a little different this morning…

I want to begin this morning with an ‘audio illusion.’

In this experiment a spoken sentence is turned into complete nonsense using audio filters—at least as far as your brain is concerned the first time you hear it.  But then we hear the original unprocessed version…and something amazing happens.

Let’s have a listen…

Once we’ve heard the original version, we can make sense of the distorted version.

And what’s more…we can’t go back to ‘unhearing’ the distorted version.

Listening is a skill that does not happen in a bubble…we bring our past experience, our joy, our pain, our discomfort to every encounter we have.

All of this prior knowledge and experience helps us or hurts us translate new knowledge and experience.

LISTENING IS A FULL LIFE EXPERIENCE!

And so we cannot simply hear James tell us that we must be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger…without some prior experience coming to mind.

If you’re like me you’re thinking of all the times you were exactly the opposite!

Those times I jumped into a conversation before someone had finished…those times I walked into a room and started talking…without any awareness that PERHAPS a conversation had been going on BEFORE I got there…

A long time ago in a church far, far away, my husband Kyle and I met with a couple that was having martial issues. I had assessed the situation in a good five or so minutes and thought I had a pretty good handle on what was going on: it was all the husband’s fault. As the wife told us about the woes of living with her husband, my indignation grew. My thinly veiled disgust led me to jump in after a few minutes and pour forth my extremely valuable wisdom.

And then Kyle did something I did not see coming. He had seen that the husband had not been given a chance to speak. And so Kyle said, ‘for the next 5 minutes, no one is going to speak except ‘Joe.’ And if we sit here for 5 minutes in silence, so be it. Joe, your time starts now.

We sat in silence for a good two excruciating minutes. And then Joe started speaking…slowly at first…and then the floodgates opened. He didn’t pour forth anger or indignation…but an enormous sense of sadness about being misunderstood and irrelevant.

It was the breakthrough the couple needed. Not to say that everything was perfect after this event. But for this couple, silence unlocked their communication.

I wonder if any of us relate to this couple. We have removed silence from our lives. Silence with one another…silence with ourselves…silence with God.

We have filled up the space with constant chatter and busyness to the point where silence makes us nervous. To the point that two minutes of silence can seem like a lifetime…

James makes a plea for silence in the last part of chapter one.

He begins this section by indicating these are words of some urgency…”Know this!” or “You must understand this.”

And so we think that a really important point is coming…”Listen up!”

And once we do, what follows may surprise us: we are to "be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger" (19).

What? This is our purpose as Christians? What happened to going into the world and preaching the gospel? What happened to teaching and proselytizing?

We are far more accustomed to thinking that our task as Christians is to speak than that it is to listen. So this command is unexpected, and makes a person like me…doing what I’m doing…a little nervous.

James calls for quick listening…and slow speech.

He calls for long ears and short tongues.

He calls on us to listen well.

This is easier said than done…with an emphasis on SAID.

It is hard to listen well. Far too often listening consists of simply waiting for someone to finish so we can talk…and we’re not so much as listening as we are figuring our what we’re going to say next while the other person is talking.

Steven Covey says, “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand, they listen with the intent to reply.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have thought about my husband, “When is he going to stop talking so I can talk?”

Have you ever done the same?

CABLE NEWS

Slow to speak…eager to listen.

Let the silence fall…take a deep breath…show that you are truly listening.

This is the beginning of listening well.

But there’s more to it than that. Listening well is a forgotten quiet virtue. It is a spiritual practice that requires our attention.

If we are not attentive to our listening…we wind up writing a one-man show even though there is a whole cast around us.

But when we are attentive to listening well…the adverb can be turned into a noun.

To listen well is to have a listening well.

Let me explain what I mean…

A listening well is a deep reservoir of faith where the knowledge of Who God is and who we are in God’s eyes is kept, cultivated, and nurtured.

When we draw regularly from this well, the need for frivolous speech, nervous chatter and hurtful words diminishes. When we know who God is and who we are as a child of God…then we truly begin to listen well.

Wells in the Bible

Wells are valuable resources. In Scripture we read they were places of refuge, community, and relief. 

Communities that had wells have security. They did not have to wonder where their water will come from…they know they have a constant place to draw this life giving resource.

In the same way a listening well is a valuable resource…a place of refuge and relief…and a place of security.

By naming and knowing our listening well…we know that the source of our life, our identity, our love and our very being is not generated by our own means…it means that we do not have to go out and find our security in other sources…it means that we can stop justifying our existence by talking

How many times do we speak and act out of our personal insecurity… instead of resting in the strong security of God?

How many times do we speak empty words, hollow promises, and frivolous gossip…instead of resting in the promises of God?

How many times do we engage the far-too-active verbs like ‘justify’ ‘rationalize’ and ‘defend’…instead of resting in the grace of God?

Drawing from our listening well means we can take up the right-amount-of active verbs like ‘listen’ ‘help’  ‘care’ and… ‘understand.’

We tend to think of listening as something quite passive. Intelligence is judged far more on our ability to craft an argument than on our ability to shut up…when frankly shutting up is much more difficult!

Listening is a skill…a practice that requires we give up ourselves…our impulse to speak…and our desire to be right…and actively turn our attention to another.

It is an exercise in restraint and engagement of the highest degree.

And it requires us to draw from adeep well. A well not from our own source, but from God. A well that gives us security, identity, and refreshment.

This well helps us listen well, speak well and act well.

James goes on in this passage to tell us that our actions really do matter.

22: DO NOT MERELY LISTEN TO THE WORD…AND SO DECEIVE YOURSELVES.  DO WHAT IT SAYS.”

Ending in verse 28, you get a sense of what it means to do what it says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

Our actions on behalf of Christ in the world are the best tool we have to spread to gospel.  The best way for the world to know Christ is not frivolous speech what is right and what is wrong…sometimes a little too often what is wrong…but to care for orphans and widows…the vulnerable, the poor, the oppressed…

This is what we are called to do. Not to say it…but to do it.

In his wonderful book, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis documents a mock conversation between a senior demon, Screwtape, and his apprentice, Wormwood.  In this particular section, they seem to fear most these words from James after a person they are referring to has become a Christian…Screwtape writes,

“It remains to consider how we can retrieve this disaster.  The great thing is to prevent his doing anything.  As long as he does not convert it to action, it does not matter how much he thinks about this new repentance.  Let the little brute wallow in it.  Let him, if he has any bent that way, write a book about it; that is often an excellent way of sterilizing the seeds which the Enemy (God) has plants in the human soul.  Let him do anything but at.  No amount of piety in his imagination and affections will harm us if we can keep it out of his will.  As one of the humans has said, active habits are strengthened by repetition but passive ones are weakened.  The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act, and, in the long run, the less he will be able to feel.”

Let him do anything but act.  I think Satan wants us to keep our faith as an intellectual exercise and that’s all.  To keep a safe distance between the Bible and our lives.  To learn about it, to read it…but to never have it impact anything that we do once we leave this place.

We’ve heard a lot of chatter over the last few weeks…and in this election cycle…we are bound to hear far more talking than listening…

But imagine with me…

Imagine if police officers would sit down with community leaders from Black neighborhoods and listen to one another?

Imagine if Democrats would sit down Republicans and listen to one another?

Imagine if Palestinians and Israelis would sit down together and listen to one another?

I believe we would find that there is far more than unites us than divides us.

Who do you need to listen to?

Who do you need to give 5 minutes of your undivided attention?

The chaos and distortion of this world rings in our ears…and even though we try to decipher it…quite frankly it all sounds like gibberish.

But then we hear the clear message from James.

Quick to listen…Slow to Speak…Slow to Anger…

Amen.

Preaching: Ken Eriks
Text: Hebrews 1:1-4, 11:1-3, 12:1-4

"Life is difficult." Those are the first three words of The Road Less Traveled, by M. Scott Peck. The root of most person's troubles, says Peck, lies in the fact they do not think life should be difficult. They resist the work which is part of life. "Life is difficult." The mature person accepts that fact and faces life with integrity, commitment, perseverance.

Perseverance was the challenge facing the readers of the letter to the Hebrews.  Addressed to Christians near the end of the first Century, living day after day, year after year, awaiting the return of Christ; it is a challenge to "hang in there." Following Christ's resurrection, these Christians expected his early return. Years passed. Nothing seemed to change. Life plodded along. Caesar ruled. Believers lived, suffered, and died. Unbelieving neighbors taunted, or worse, ignored them. The race the Hebrews expected to be a short dash to glory turned into a marathon of excruciating length.

Like the Hebrew Christians we are called to follow Christ faithfully, day after day, year after year, even though our witness appears to have little impact on a deteriorating world. We race against weariness, disappointment, despair. We find the life of discipleship to be more difficult than we anticipated. Trials and temptations batter us like the incessant waves on a wind-blown Lake Michigan.

We see the violence, hatred, fear, and racial discord that wrack our nation. We observe a political process dominated by discord and disunity! We sense that the voices of compassionate Christians are being trumped by those that play to the baser instincts of humanity.

Like many New Testament letters, the letter to the Hebrews makes many important theological claims about Jesus—who he was and what he did—as it builds toward the more practical aspects of life in Christ. In this case, much of the letter builds toward Hebrews 12:1-3. 

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.”

The central claim of the letter to the Hebrews is that Jesus is superior to every person, revelation, and religious practice that came before him. He is incomparable in his person and in his work.

The writer opens the letter with the assertion that, “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors by the prophets; now God has spoken through the Son.” This Son is the full reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word.”

Jesus is the full text of the Good News that God has been declaring to the world for generations. He is the completion of God’s message to humankind. God’s story has been given full expression in the incomparable life of Jesus.

I highly recommend that you make time some day to read the first ten chapters of this amazing letter in which the writer makes this claim explicit. You will see that Jesus is the true temple—the person in whom God fully and completely dwells. Jesus is the true High Priest—the person that offered prayers to God for himself and his people while on earth; and continues to intercede for us now from the right hand of God. Jesus created a new covenant—a new life of promise and fulfillment for us with God—a covenant that is eternal and unfailing. Jesus is the perfect Lamb of God—the complete sacrifice for all the sins of all people for all time.

In Hebrews 12 Jesus is described as the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Jesus is the person that supremely lived by faith. By faith, Jesus was willing to go to the cross—despising the shame—and ran the race faithfully to the very end. Jesus trusted that God loved him and wanted was best for him; that God was wise and knew what was best for him; and that God was powerful and could do what was best for him. The joy of one day being united with this God of wisdom, love, power and grace enabled Jesus to persevere.

John Ortberg tells the story of a friend named Sandy. Her life went smoothly for years. Raised in a Christian home, a graduate of a Christian college, she met and married a Christian man and began a career as a nurse.

Four years later, pregnant with her first child, Sandy’s husband told her he felt trapped and wasn’t sure he wanted to remain married. Two months later he left her. Sandy soon discovered that her husband had been unfaithful for most of their marriage. Through one of his affairs he contracted a sexually transmitted disease. When the baby was born it was clear she was the victim. Rachel was born anacephalic—with only a brain stem to carry out the functions of the brain. Doctors told Sandy that Rachel would only live a few days—weeks at the most. Weeks became months; months turned into years—more than three years, in fact.

Sandy’s life consisted of working eight hour shifts as a nurse—while a sister or friend stayed with Rachel—then working 16 hour shifts at home with Rachel. All the while Sandy knew she would never feel Rachel’s fingers grasp her hand, never see her first steps, never smile when she finally said mommy. She couldn’t even tell for sure if Rachel knew who she was. The only time Rachel seemed to respond at all was during her bath, when she uttered a low, cooing sound.

Sandy had many questions. “Why did this happen? Why didn’t God answer Sandy’s prayers for a healthy child? Why did Rachel have to live such a limited life? Where was God in all of it?” And yet, John Ortberg tells us that Sandy kept her eyes on Jesus and chose to trust God’s promises in the same ways that Jesus did—without answers, but keeping her eyes on the joy that was set before her—and this enabled her to persevere. Sandy chose to live by faith. Hebrews 11 describes faith in these words: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen.”

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for.... Faith lives in confidence that even as life on the surface falls short of expectations and God's promises seem to go unfulfilled, God can still be trusted. Faith believes in advance what will only makes sense as we look back on it. Faith lives out of the assurance that, because God has defeated sin and death, someday, mourning and crying and pain will be no more. Faith hears the music of God’s future and dares to dance to it.

The writer adds: Faith is the conviction of things not seen. To the eye of faith the universe isn’t an aimless swirl of gas—it’s a gift of God's love sustained by God's providence and power. Faith is a way of looking at the world, others and ourselves, and trusting that, by God’s grace, there is more than meets the eye. Faith is the eye of the heart that allows us to see beyond challenges, difficulty, and trouble to another level of reality—the real presence of Jesus Christ.

Persevering over the long haul is not easy. The race is long. The potential for burn-out is great. There are long dry spells. But we can finish the race. Here is how Eugene Petersen renders our verses from Hebrews 12 in The Message:

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means that we better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus who both began and finished the race we are in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything that came up along the way; cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility that he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls! 

The writer is encouraging perseverance—steadfast endurance—tenacious refusal to swerve from a goal. Perseverance is the determination to stay the course, to complete the race.

Frederick Nietzsche wrote, "The essential thing, in heaven and earth is that there be a long obedience in the same direction; and thereby results, and has always resulted.... something which has made life worth living."

According to the writer of the letter to the Hebrews, perseverance is a long obedience in the same direction. It is learning from Jesus and following Jesus, even when we don't feel like it. It is finishing what we begin. It is staying the course even when there appears to be little pay off, and God does not seem to honor our faithfulness.

Perseverance is possible if it is rooted in two things.

The first is captured by the opening words: "Therefore since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...." The writer has in mind those whose faith and faithfulness is recounted in Hebrews 11. We are cheered on by people who know all about a long obedience in the same direction. Abraham waited 99 years for the gift of a son and a future. Moses led the people forty years, yet did not personally enter the Promised Land. They serve as witnesses that perseverance is possible. I remember a sermon that JB preached many years ago in which he pictured this cloud of witnesses doing the wave, cheering us on.

As important as this cloud of witnesses is for our perseverance there is someone more important. We look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Jesus identified completely with us. He was tempted to accept short-cut solutions. People wearied him as they weary us. He dealt with lack of understanding. Jesus knows our struggles.

Through it all Jesus persevered. He was tempted to turn from death—but instead, faced the cross. God raised him victorious over all that threatens our faithfulness. Jesus is alive. Through the Holy Spirit, Jesus is at work in our lives and this community of faith.

At the point of our weariness, God surrounds us with a great cloud of witnesses to encourage us. When we are tempted to quit we look to Jesus, pioneer of our faith, perfecter of our faithfulness. By Christ's power and presence alone will our life in Christ be a long obedience in the same direction.

We persevere because we know that the heart of God beats with the music of love. As we live by faith in Jesus, our story is incorporated into the much bigger story of hope and transformation that God is authoring.

Alan Paton, the South African author, at one point wrote, "Life has taught me not to expect success as the inevitable result of my endeavors." He said this after using his writing skills and his reputation to try to rid South Africa of Apartheid. All his life he lived toward that goal. He spent the last years of his life under house arrest, but never gave up.

Toward the end of his life he wrote, "Life has taught me to seek sustenance from the endeavor itself, and leave the rest to God....There is only one way to live: giving your best while trusting God to use our lives to serve God’s purposes.” Paton's faithfulness, his ability to persevere, paved the way for an end to Apartheid in South Africa.

Jesus is God's human voice inviting us into a life of faith and faithfulness. Jesus is God's hand holding our hand. Jesus carries our prayers to the throne of God. Because of Jesus, access to the Living God and all the joys of heaven are not attainments to be achieved—they are gifts to be received. Jesus comes along side us to lead us home.

Jesus is here this morning, just as he was there for the readers of the letter to the Hebrews. He encourages us to live with boldness born of resting in God’s grace. By his blood he promises that the discordant themes of our lives will one day be blended into the harmony of heaven. He is eager to escort us into the vast expanse of wonder and joy awaits us. Jesus sustains us on a lifelong journey in this life, and he brings us into a life lived in right relationship with God, and he ensures that our stories will ultimately be caught up into God’ story.

Certainly what happened to Sandy and Rachel is a tragic story, but it isn’t the whole story. The truth is: through all the twists and turns, God is at work, gathering up their story into the divine story. One day Sandy and Rachel will be together again.

Like the readers of the letter to the Hebrews, like the great cloud of witnesses, like Sandy and Rachel, we will persevere toward something better—toward someone better. Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith; the one who knows us by name; the one loves us in our sin; and the one who works toward our transformation waits to welcome us with open arms.

Preaching: Ken Eriks
Text: Hebrews 1:1-4, 11:1-3, 12:1-4

"Life is difficult." Those are the first three words of The Road Less Traveled, by M. Scott Peck. The root of most person's troubles, says Peck, lies in the fact they do not think life should be difficult. They resist the work which is part of life. "Life is difficult." The mature person accepts that fact and faces life with integrity, commitment, perseverance.

Perseverance was the challenge facing the readers of the letter to the Hebrews.  Addressed to Christians near the end of the first Century, living day after day, year after year, awaiting the return of Christ; it is a challenge to "hang in there." Following Christ's resurrection, these Christians expected his early return. Years passed. Nothing seemed to change. Life plodded along. Caesar ruled. Believers lived, suffered, and died. Unbelieving neighbors taunted, or worse, ignored them. The race the Hebrews expected to be a short dash to glory turned into a marathon of excruciating length.

Like the Hebrew Christians we are called to follow Christ faithfully, day after day, year after year, even though our witness appears to have little impact on a deteriorating world. We race against weariness, disappointment, despair. We find the life of discipleship to be more difficult than we anticipated. Trials and temptations batter us like the incessant waves on a wind-blown Lake Michigan.

We see the violence, hatred, fear, and racial discord that wrack our nation. We observe a political process dominated by discord and disunity! We sense that the voices of compassionate Christians are being trumped by those that play to the baser instincts of humanity.

Like many New Testament letters, the letter to the Hebrews makes many important theological claims about Jesus—who he was and what he did—as it builds toward the more practical aspects of life in Christ. In this case, much of the letter builds toward Hebrews 12:1-3. 

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.”

The central claim of the letter to the Hebrews is that Jesus is superior to every person, revelation, and religious practice that came before him. He is incomparable in his person and in his work.

The writer opens the letter with the assertion that, “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors by the prophets; now God has spoken through the Son.” This Son is the full reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word.”

Jesus is the full text of the Good News that God has been declaring to the world for generations. He is the completion of God’s message to humankind. God’s story has been given full expression in the incomparable life of Jesus.

I highly recommend that you make time some day to read the first ten chapters of this amazing letter in which the writer makes this claim explicit. You will see that Jesus is the true temple—the person in whom God fully and completely dwells. Jesus is the true High Priest—the person that offered prayers to God for himself and his people while on earth; and continues to intercede for us now from the right hand of God. Jesus created a new covenant—a new life of promise and fulfillment for us with God—a covenant that is eternal and unfailing. Jesus is the perfect Lamb of God—the complete sacrifice for all the sins of all people for all time.

In Hebrews 12 Jesus is described as the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Jesus is the person that supremely lived by faith. By faith, Jesus was willing to go to the cross—despising the shame—and ran the race faithfully to the very end. Jesus trusted that God loved him and wanted was best for him; that God was wise and knew what was best for him; and that God was powerful and could do what was best for him. The joy of one day being united with this God of wisdom, love, power and grace enabled Jesus to persevere.

John Ortberg tells the story of a friend named Sandy. Her life went smoothly for years. Raised in a Christian home, a graduate of a Christian college, she met and married a Christian man and began a career as a nurse.

Four years later, pregnant with her first child, Sandy’s husband told her he felt trapped and wasn’t sure he wanted to remain married. Two months later he left her. Sandy soon discovered that her husband had been unfaithful for most of their marriage. Through one of his affairs he contracted a sexually transmitted disease. When the baby was born it was clear she was the victim. Rachel was born anacephalic—with only a brain stem to carry out the functions of the brain. Doctors told Sandy that Rachel would only live a few days—weeks at the most. Weeks became months; months turned into years—more than three years, in fact.

Sandy’s life consisted of working eight hour shifts as a nurse—while a sister or friend stayed with Rachel—then working 16 hour shifts at home with Rachel. All the while Sandy knew she would never feel Rachel’s fingers grasp her hand, never see her first steps, never smile when she finally said mommy. She couldn’t even tell for sure if Rachel knew who she was. The only time Rachel seemed to respond at all was during her bath, when she uttered a low, cooing sound.

Sandy had many questions. “Why did this happen? Why didn’t God answer Sandy’s prayers for a healthy child? Why did Rachel have to live such a limited life? Where was God in all of it?” And yet, John Ortberg tells us that Sandy kept her eyes on Jesus and chose to trust God’s promises in the same ways that Jesus did—without answers, but keeping her eyes on the joy that was set before her—and this enabled her to persevere. Sandy chose to live by faith. Hebrews 11 describes faith in these words: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen.”

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for.... Faith lives in confidence that even as life on the surface falls short of expectations and God's promises seem to go unfulfilled, God can still be trusted. Faith believes in advance what will only makes sense as we look back on it. Faith lives out of the assurance that, because God has defeated sin and death, someday, mourning and crying and pain will be no more. Faith hears the music of God’s future and dares to dance to it.

The writer adds: Faith is the conviction of things not seen. To the eye of faith the universe isn’t an aimless swirl of gas—it’s a gift of God's love sustained by God's providence and power. Faith is a way of looking at the world, others and ourselves, and trusting that, by God’s grace, there is more than meets the eye. Faith is the eye of the heart that allows us to see beyond challenges, difficulty, and trouble to another level of reality—the real presence of Jesus Christ.

Persevering over the long haul is not easy. The race is long. The potential for burn-out is great. There are long dry spells. But we can finish the race. Here is how Eugene Petersen renders our verses from Hebrews 12 in The Message:

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means that we better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus who both began and finished the race we are in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything that came up along the way; cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility that he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls! 

The writer is encouraging perseverance—steadfast endurance—tenacious refusal to swerve from a goal. Perseverance is the determination to stay the course, to complete the race.

Frederick Nietzsche wrote, "The essential thing, in heaven and earth is that there be a long obedience in the same direction; and thereby results, and has always resulted.... something which has made life worth living."

According to the writer of the letter to the Hebrews, perseverance is a long obedience in the same direction. It is learning from Jesus and following Jesus, even when we don't feel like it. It is finishing what we begin. It is staying the course even when there appears to be little pay off, and God does not seem to honor our faithfulness.

Perseverance is possible if it is rooted in two things.

The first is captured by the opening words: "Therefore since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...." The writer has in mind those whose faith and faithfulness is recounted in Hebrews 11. We are cheered on by people who know all about a long obedience in the same direction. Abraham waited 99 years for the gift of a son and a future. Moses led the people forty years, yet did not personally enter the Promised Land. They serve as witnesses that perseverance is possible. I remember a sermon that JB preached many years ago in which he pictured this cloud of witnesses doing the wave, cheering us on.

As important as this cloud of witnesses is for our perseverance there is someone more important. We look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Jesus identified completely with us. He was tempted to accept short-cut solutions. People wearied him as they weary us. He dealt with lack of understanding. Jesus knows our struggles.

Through it all Jesus persevered. He was tempted to turn from death—but instead, faced the cross. God raised him victorious over all that threatens our faithfulness. Jesus is alive. Through the Holy Spirit, Jesus is at work in our lives and this community of faith.

At the point of our weariness, God surrounds us with a great cloud of witnesses to encourage us. When we are tempted to quit we look to Jesus, pioneer of our faith, perfecter of our faithfulness. By Christ's power and presence alone will our life in Christ be a long obedience in the same direction.

We persevere because we know that the heart of God beats with the music of love. As we live by faith in Jesus, our story is incorporated into the much bigger story of hope and transformation that God is authoring.

Alan Paton, the South African author, at one point wrote, "Life has taught me not to expect success as the inevitable result of my endeavors." He said this after using his writing skills and his reputation to try to rid South Africa of Apartheid. All his life he lived toward that goal. He spent the last years of his life under house arrest, but never gave up.

Toward the end of his life he wrote, "Life has taught me to seek sustenance from the endeavor itself, and leave the rest to God....There is only one way to live: giving your best while trusting God to use our lives to serve God’s purposes.” Paton's faithfulness, his ability to persevere, paved the way for an end to Apartheid in South Africa.

Jesus is God's human voice inviting us into a life of faith and faithfulness. Jesus is God's hand holding our hand. Jesus carries our prayers to the throne of God. Because of Jesus, access to the Living God and all the joys of heaven are not attainments to be achieved—they are gifts to be received. Jesus comes along side us to lead us home.

Jesus is here this morning, just as he was there for the readers of the letter to the Hebrews. He encourages us to live with boldness born of resting in God’s grace. By his blood he promises that the discordant themes of our lives will one day be blended into the harmony of heaven. He is eager to escort us into the vast expanse of wonder and joy awaits us. Jesus sustains us on a lifelong journey in this life, and he brings us into a life lived in right relationship with God, and he ensures that our stories will ultimately be caught up into God’ story.

Certainly what happened to Sandy and Rachel is a tragic story, but it isn’t the whole story. The truth is: through all the twists and turns, God is at work, gathering up their story into the divine story. One day Sandy and Rachel will be together again.

Like the readers of the letter to the Hebrews, like the great cloud of witnesses, like Sandy and Rachel, we will persevere toward something better—toward someone better. Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith; the one who knows us by name; the one loves us in our sin; and the one who works toward our transformation waits to welcome us with open arms.

Preaching: Brian Keepers
Text: Philemon

A picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.  Take this photograph, for example. Have you ever seen it?  Do you know the story behind it?

It’s a photograph from the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City.  The two black men are American runners John Carlos (left) and Tommie Smith (right) who won the gold and bronze in the 200 meter race.  1968 was a tragic year in the Civil Rights Movement as both Dr. King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated.  Carlos and Smith took the podium barefoot, a symbol of solidarity with African Americans who were experiencing poverty and oppression.  The black gloves and raised fists were a gesture of the Black Panther movement.  And the white badge on their shirts, next to “USA”, read “Olympic Project for Human Rights,” which represented a movement of athletes around the world who were standing up for equality and justice for all people everywhere.

It was a bold and courageous act.  What Carlos and Smith did in this moment with the world watching.  This symbolic gesture of protest and defiance in the face of injustice.  And they paid for it.  Smith and Carlos were immediately suspended from the American Olympic Team and expelled from Olympic Village.  They would not be allowed to race again.  At home, these men and their families faced heavy repercussions and received multiple death threats.

But what about the white man in the photo?  The man who won the silver medal?  Who is he?  And is he part of the story?  While pictures can reveal, they can also deceive.  Most people don’t know that there is more to this story.  And I’m going to tell you about it in a little while. 

But first, let’s talk about Philemon, the shortest of all of the Apostle’s Paul’s letters.  Only twenty-five verses and 335 words make up this very personal and often overlooked letter.      

It’s written by Paul while he is in prison under house arrest (either in Rome or Ephesus) toward the end of his life.  Paul lists Timothy as a co-author, but it is most likely that Timothy served as the scribe.  And its addressed to a man named Philemon, a friend of Paul’s and leader of a house church in Colossae.  Paul also includes some other names in the greeting—Apphia (who may have been Philemon’s wife) and Archippus (who may have been his son).  It’s also written to the entire house church (50 or 60 people)—an important point to which we’ll return later.

Paul’s primary purpose in writing the letter is to appeal to Philemon to welcome back Onesimus, Philemon’s slave who had run away.  We’re not sure exactly why Onesimus escaped his Master’s house, but he went to Paul and Paul led him to Christ and became a spiritual father to Onesimus.  Paul then directs Onesimus to return home to Philemon, and he sends this letter with him.

We might wonder: what does a letter about a slave being urged to return to his master have to say to us today?  Especially in the wake of the tragedies that have happened over the past couple weeks and the racial tensions that are so high in our country right now.

One of the things that may frustrate us about the Bible, especially the writings of Paul, is that the Bible doesn’t seem to explicitly condemn slavery and racism.  In some of his other letters, like Ephesians and Colossians, Paul has a section under household instructions where he directs masters and slaves in how to behave in a Christ-like manner.  And here in Philemon, Paul tells a runaway slave to go back to his master and appeals to Philemon to welcome him back with forgiveness and compassion.  But Paul doesn’t outright say that slavery is wrong and that Onesimus should be set free.

Does that bother anyone else?  Every time I read Paul, I want to him to go further, to say more.  “Just say it’s wrong and not what God intends for humanity,” I find myself getting all riled up.  “Name it for the evil and injustice that it is!” Too many people, for too long, have used the Bible to justify oppression and injustice.  What’s that haunting line in Harper Lee’s classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird?  Something like this: “The Bible in one man’s hand is as dangerous as a bottle of whiskey in the hand of another man.”  When in reality the God we see in Jesus, and the God we find in the narrative arch of Scripture, is a God who liberates and heals and makes things right—a God of justice.

So wonder with me…might Paul’s message and example in Philemon be more radical that it might appear?  Might there be more to this picture than we immediately see?

For starters, did you notice that Paul never refers to Philemon, not even once, as Onesimus’ “Master?”   And the only time he refers to Onesimus as a “slave” is when he is directly calling Philemon to treat Onesimus as more than a slave: Receive him back, Paul says, “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord” (v.16).

Paul is actually making a radical appeal to Philemon—a countercultural move—in his request that Philemon receive Onesimus back no longer as a slave but as a beloved brother, an equal, in Christ.  Paul’s point is that the gospel—which is all about the reconciling love of Christ—radically transforms and redefines all of our relationships.  So that whatever would divide us or rank us in tiers of importance—race, ethnicity, gender, class, sexual-orientation, or whatever other labels we come up with—all of it is overcome and redefined by the cross of Christ.  Listen to what Paul writes in other letters:

“But now in Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.  For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.  He abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. – Eph.2:13-16

“For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of the cross.” – Col.1:19-20

“In that renewal there is no longer Greek or Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, Barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all in all!” Col.3:11

The love of God that is embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ is a love that reconciles, heals, forgives, and makes new.  It is a reconciling love that makes a new humanity—one family of God, the single body of Christ—all because of God’s grace given freely to us.  A grace given freely but not cheaply—it came with an incredible cost.

And so Paul appeals to Philemon, as he appeals to us today, to practice this kind of love that is ours in Christ.  Haven’t we heard Paul say this over and over, in every letter that we’ve read over the past couple months?  The primary virtue of living out our identity in Christ, as a new creation, is that of practicing Christ-like love.  And Christ-like love is a love that always gets into action around seeking reconciliation.

It is on the basis of this love, then, that Paul appeals to Philemon.  Paul could have used his apostolic authority and commanded Philemon to do this.  Paul has played that card before.  But he doesn’t.  As Philemon’s brother in Christ, fellow worker in the gospel, he simply appeals to Philemon on the basis of love.   A love that Paul has witnessed in Philemon’s life—a fruit of the Spirit made evident.  On the basis of that love, because Onesimus is your brother in Christ, embrace him.  Forgive him.  Welcome him as you would welcome me, and not as a slave but as an equal.

Friends, this is where the rubber hits the road when it comes to the gospel.  It’s one thing to talk about it; it’s another thing to actually practice this kind of love—a love that advocates for others and stands with those who are weak and vulnerable.  Philemon is being challenged to move his grasp of the gospel from the head to the heart to the hands—to actually live it out in his real, everyday life.

But this message is not just for Philemon.  It’s for the whole church.  That’s why Paul wants it read in the community, even includes the whole church in the address.  The calling of the church, the body of Christ, is to demonstrate the reconciling love of God in Christ for the whole world to see.  Paul calls the entire community—not just Philemon—to embrace their brother Onesimus.  Because this work of reconciliation is never the work of just one person but always the work of the whole community.  The church is to be a sign and a foretaste of God’s kingdom—a kingdom that gives the world a picture of what it means to forgive, heal and embrace.

Paul takes it one step even further.  Not only is the church call to be a sign and foretaste of God’s reconciling love in Christ; the church is called to be God’s instrument of reconciliation in the world.  “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; everything old has passed away, everything has become new!  All of this is from God, who reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.  So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us….” (2 Cor. 5:17-20)

There are some powerful verses in Philemon—more than we might initially suspect.  But it’s the picture of Paul’s example that I find most compelling.  In writing this letter, Paul is demonstrating what it means to be an ambassador of Christ—he is advocating on the behalf of Onesimus, who was in a position of vulnerability and had no power or privilege.  Even though it came with a cost—Paul tells Philemon he will cover whatever the debt is (seems there was a financial cost).  And he calls Philemon to be an advocate for Onesimus among the community—Paul is demonstrating for us what it looks like to be instruments of reconciliation.

What’s getting stirred up in you today as you hear this?  Where are you feeling resistance?  Maybe even shame?  God calls us out of shame and into the light, to join him in his reconciling work.  And it begins with each of us.  Looking at our own hearts.  Our own relationships.  And it begins with us looking at our church—are we demonstrating together the reconciling love of Christ?  And how might God be calling us to be an instrument of reconciliation in our community?  Might we give the world a different picture than what they’re seeing in the news?

Because a picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.  You remember this photograph we began with?  And the white man in the photo?  What’s his story?  Is he part of the story?

His name is Peter Norman.  He was an unknown Australian sprinter who seemingly came out of nowhere and ended up taking the silver medal in the 200 meter race.  The final heat was an amazing race.  But what happened on the podium was even more amazing.  This is the part of the story you don’t immediately see in the picture.

In 1968, it wasn’t only the U.S. who was experiencing racial injustice.  Apartheid was happening in Australia—one nearly as bad as South Africa.  There was tension and protests in the streets of Australia following heavy apartheid restrictions on non-white immigration and discriminatory laws against aboriginal people.

The two Americans asked Norman if he believed in human rights.  Norman said he did.  They asked him if he believed in God.  Norman was part of the Salvation Army, and he said he had a strong belief in God.  “We knew that what we were going to do was far greater than any athletic feat, and he said, ‘I’ll stand with you’” remember Carlos.  “I expected to see fear in Norma’s eyes, but instead we saw love.”

When Norman heard they were going to make this gesture of defiance on the podium, with their badges and black gloves, he asked if they had another badge.  They didn’t, but he scrambled and found one to borrow from another athlete.

Then, together—as one—the three of them walked out to the podium.  When the Star Spangled Banner started to play and be sung, the crowd was so moved by the picture of what they saw from these three men that the song faded and the stadium hushed into silence.

I shared with you the cost of this act for the two Americans.  But there was also a cost for Norman.  Even though he would remain for years one of the fastest sprinters in his country, the Australian Olympic Team refused to let him race ever again in the Olympics.  This act essentially cost him his career.  His entire family was ostracized and made outcasts in their own country.  No one would hire him, and he finally found a job as a butcher, but was injured and contracted gangrene, which led to depression and alcoholism.

For years, the authorities in his country promised to treat him and his family differently if he would only condemn his co-athletes, Carlos and Smith, and their disobedient gesture at the 1968 Olympics.  They even promised him he could compete in the Olympics again.

But Norman wouldn’t do it.  He wouldn’t condemn these men or what they had all done. He stood his ground.

Norman died suddenly from a heart attack in 2006, without his country ever apologizing for the way they had treated him. An official apology would come in 2012, but it was too late.  At his funeral, John Carlos and Tommie Smith, Norman’s friends since that moment in 1968, were his pall bearers, sending him off as a hero.

“He paid the price with his choice, “explained Tommie Smith.  “It wasn’t just a simple gesture to help us, it was HIS fight.  He was a white man, a white Australian man among two men of color, standing up in the moment of victory, all in the name of the same thing.”

Norman made his choice.  A courageous choice.  A choice that demanded sacrifice.  And he never regretted it.  What choices are in front of us today?  Individually?  As a church?  A community and nation?

When asked why he made this choice, here is what Norman said in his own words:

“I couldn’t see why a black man couldn’t drink the same water from a water fountain, take the same bus or go to the same school as a white man.

There was a social injustice that I couldn’t do anything for from where I was, but I certainly hated it.

It has been said that sharing my silver medal with that incident on the victory dais detracted from my performance.

On the contrary.

I have to confess, I was rather proud to be part of it”.

A picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.

Let us be a picture of God’s kingdom for all the world to see.

Amen.

*The story of Carlos, Smith and Norman was taken from this article by Ricardo Gazzaniga: http://www.filmsforaction.org/articles/the-white-man-in-that-photo/

Preaching: Brian Keepers
Text: Philemon

A picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.  Take this photograph, for example. Have you ever seen it?  Do you know the story behind it?

It’s a photograph from the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City.  The two black men are American runners John Carlos (left) and Tommie Smith (right) who won the gold and bronze in the 200 meter race.  1968 was a tragic year in the Civil Rights Movement as both Dr. King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated.  Carlos and Smith took the podium barefoot, a symbol of solidarity with African Americans who were experiencing poverty and oppression.  The black gloves and raised fists were a gesture of the Black Panther movement.  And the white badge on their shirts, next to “USA”, read “Olympic Project for Human Rights,” which represented a movement of athletes around the world who were standing up for equality and justice for all people everywhere.

It was a bold and courageous act.  What Carlos and Smith did in this moment with the world watching.  This symbolic gesture of protest and defiance in the face of injustice.  And they paid for it.  Smith and Carlos were immediately suspended from the American Olympic Team and expelled from Olympic Village.  They would not be allowed to race again.  At home, these men and their families faced heavy repercussions and received multiple death threats.

But what about the white man in the photo?  The man who won the silver medal?  Who is he?  And is he part of the story?  While pictures can reveal, they can also deceive.  Most people don’t know that there is more to this story.  And I’m going to tell you about it in a little while. 

But first, let’s talk about Philemon, the shortest of all of the Apostle’s Paul’s letters.  Only twenty-five verses and 335 words make up this very personal and often overlooked letter.      

It’s written by Paul while he is in prison under house arrest (either in Rome or Ephesus) toward the end of his life.  Paul lists Timothy as a co-author, but it is most likely that Timothy served as the scribe.  And its addressed to a man named Philemon, a friend of Paul’s and leader of a house church in Colossae.  Paul also includes some other names in the greeting—Apphia (who may have been Philemon’s wife) and Archippus (who may have been his son).  It’s also written to the entire house church (50 or 60 people)—an important point to which we’ll return later.

Paul’s primary purpose in writing the letter is to appeal to Philemon to welcome back Onesimus, Philemon’s slave who had run away.  We’re not sure exactly why Onesimus escaped his Master’s house, but he went to Paul and Paul led him to Christ and became a spiritual father to Onesimus.  Paul then directs Onesimus to return home to Philemon, and he sends this letter with him.

We might wonder: what does a letter about a slave being urged to return to his master have to say to us today?  Especially in the wake of the tragedies that have happened over the past couple weeks and the racial tensions that are so high in our country right now.

One of the things that may frustrate us about the Bible, especially the writings of Paul, is that the Bible doesn’t seem to explicitly condemn slavery and racism.  In some of his other letters, like Ephesians and Colossians, Paul has a section under household instructions where he directs masters and slaves in how to behave in a Christ-like manner.  And here in Philemon, Paul tells a runaway slave to go back to his master and appeals to Philemon to welcome him back with forgiveness and compassion.  But Paul doesn’t outright say that slavery is wrong and that Onesimus should be set free.

Does that bother anyone else?  Every time I read Paul, I want to him to go further, to say more.  “Just say it’s wrong and not what God intends for humanity,” I find myself getting all riled up.  “Name it for the evil and injustice that it is!” Too many people, for too long, have used the Bible to justify oppression and injustice.  What’s that haunting line in Harper Lee’s classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird?  Something like this: “The Bible in one man’s hand is as dangerous as a bottle of whiskey in the hand of another man.”  When in reality the God we see in Jesus, and the God we find in the narrative arch of Scripture, is a God who liberates and heals and makes things right—a God of justice.

So wonder with me…might Paul’s message and example in Philemon be more radical that it might appear?  Might there be more to this picture than we immediately see?

For starters, did you notice that Paul never refers to Philemon, not even once, as Onesimus’ “Master?”   And the only time he refers to Onesimus as a “slave” is when he is directly calling Philemon to treat Onesimus as more than a slave: Receive him back, Paul says, “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord” (v.16).

Paul is actually making a radical appeal to Philemon—a countercultural move—in his request that Philemon receive Onesimus back no longer as a slave but as a beloved brother, an equal, in Christ.  Paul’s point is that the gospel—which is all about the reconciling love of Christ—radically transforms and redefines all of our relationships.  So that whatever would divide us or rank us in tiers of importance—race, ethnicity, gender, class, sexual-orientation, or whatever other labels we come up with—all of it is overcome and redefined by the cross of Christ.  Listen to what Paul writes in other letters:

“But now in Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.  For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.  He abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. – Eph.2:13-16

“For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of the cross.” – Col.1:19-20

“In that renewal there is no longer Greek or Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, Barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all in all!” Col.3:11

The love of God that is embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ is a love that reconciles, heals, forgives, and makes new.  It is a reconciling love that makes a new humanity—one family of God, the single body of Christ—all because of God’s grace given freely to us.  A grace given freely but not cheaply—it came with an incredible cost.

And so Paul appeals to Philemon, as he appeals to us today, to practice this kind of love that is ours in Christ.  Haven’t we heard Paul say this over and over, in every letter that we’ve read over the past couple months?  The primary virtue of living out our identity in Christ, as a new creation, is that of practicing Christ-like love.  And Christ-like love is a love that always gets into action around seeking reconciliation.

It is on the basis of this love, then, that Paul appeals to Philemon.  Paul could have used his apostolic authority and commanded Philemon to do this.  Paul has played that card before.  But he doesn’t.  As Philemon’s brother in Christ, fellow worker in the gospel, he simply appeals to Philemon on the basis of love.   A love that Paul has witnessed in Philemon’s life—a fruit of the Spirit made evident.  On the basis of that love, because Onesimus is your brother in Christ, embrace him.  Forgive him.  Welcome him as you would welcome me, and not as a slave but as an equal.

Friends, this is where the rubber hits the road when it comes to the gospel.  It’s one thing to talk about it; it’s another thing to actually practice this kind of love—a love that advocates for others and stands with those who are weak and vulnerable.  Philemon is being challenged to move his grasp of the gospel from the head to the heart to the hands—to actually live it out in his real, everyday life.

But this message is not just for Philemon.  It’s for the whole church.  That’s why Paul wants it read in the community, even includes the whole church in the address.  The calling of the church, the body of Christ, is to demonstrate the reconciling love of God in Christ for the whole world to see.  Paul calls the entire community—not just Philemon—to embrace their brother Onesimus.  Because this work of reconciliation is never the work of just one person but always the work of the whole community.  The church is to be a sign and a foretaste of God’s kingdom—a kingdom that gives the world a picture of what it means to forgive, heal and embrace.

Paul takes it one step even further.  Not only is the church call to be a sign and foretaste of God’s reconciling love in Christ; the church is called to be God’s instrument of reconciliation in the world.  “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; everything old has passed away, everything has become new!  All of this is from God, who reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.  So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us….” (2 Cor. 5:17-20)

There are some powerful verses in Philemon—more than we might initially suspect.  But it’s the picture of Paul’s example that I find most compelling.  In writing this letter, Paul is demonstrating what it means to be an ambassador of Christ—he is advocating on the behalf of Onesimus, who was in a position of vulnerability and had no power or privilege.  Even though it came with a cost—Paul tells Philemon he will cover whatever the debt is (seems there was a financial cost).  And he calls Philemon to be an advocate for Onesimus among the community—Paul is demonstrating for us what it looks like to be instruments of reconciliation.

What’s getting stirred up in you today as you hear this?  Where are you feeling resistance?  Maybe even shame?  God calls us out of shame and into the light, to join him in his reconciling work.  And it begins with each of us.  Looking at our own hearts.  Our own relationships.  And it begins with us looking at our church—are we demonstrating together the reconciling love of Christ?  And how might God be calling us to be an instrument of reconciliation in our community?  Might we give the world a different picture than what they’re seeing in the news?

Because a picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.  You remember this photograph we began with?  And the white man in the photo?  What’s his story?  Is he part of the story?

His name is Peter Norman.  He was an unknown Australian sprinter who seemingly came out of nowhere and ended up taking the silver medal in the 200 meter race.  The final heat was an amazing race.  But what happened on the podium was even more amazing.  This is the part of the story you don’t immediately see in the picture.

In 1968, it wasn’t only the U.S. who was experiencing racial injustice.  Apartheid was happening in Australia—one nearly as bad as South Africa.  There was tension and protests in the streets of Australia following heavy apartheid restrictions on non-white immigration and discriminatory laws against aboriginal people.

The two Americans asked Norman if he believed in human rights.  Norman said he did.  They asked him if he believed in God.  Norman was part of the Salvation Army, and he said he had a strong belief in God.  “We knew that what we were going to do was far greater than any athletic feat, and he said, ‘I’ll stand with you’” remember Carlos.  “I expected to see fear in Norma’s eyes, but instead we saw love.”

When Norman heard they were going to make this gesture of defiance on the podium, with their badges and black gloves, he asked if they had another badge.  They didn’t, but he scrambled and found one to borrow from another athlete.

Then, together—as one—the three of them walked out to the podium.  When the Star Spangled Banner started to play and be sung, the crowd was so moved by the picture of what they saw from these three men that the song faded and the stadium hushed into silence.

I shared with you the cost of this act for the two Americans.  But there was also a cost for Norman.  Even though he would remain for years one of the fastest sprinters in his country, the Australian Olympic Team refused to let him race ever again in the Olympics.  This act essentially cost him his career.  His entire family was ostracized and made outcasts in their own country.  No one would hire him, and he finally found a job as a butcher, but was injured and contracted gangrene, which led to depression and alcoholism.

For years, the authorities in his country promised to treat him and his family differently if he would only condemn his co-athletes, Carlos and Smith, and their disobedient gesture at the 1968 Olympics.  They even promised him he could compete in the Olympics again.

But Norman wouldn’t do it.  He wouldn’t condemn these men or what they had all done. He stood his ground.

Norman died suddenly from a heart attack in 2006, without his country ever apologizing for the way they had treated him. An official apology would come in 2012, but it was too late.  At his funeral, John Carlos and Tommie Smith, Norman’s friends since that moment in 1968, were his pall bearers, sending him off as a hero.

“He paid the price with his choice, “explained Tommie Smith.  “It wasn’t just a simple gesture to help us, it was HIS fight.  He was a white man, a white Australian man among two men of color, standing up in the moment of victory, all in the name of the same thing.”

Norman made his choice.  A courageous choice.  A choice that demanded sacrifice.  And he never regretted it.  What choices are in front of us today?  Individually?  As a church?  A community and nation?

When asked why he made this choice, here is what Norman said in his own words:

“I couldn’t see why a black man couldn’t drink the same water from a water fountain, take the same bus or go to the same school as a white man.

There was a social injustice that I couldn’t do anything for from where I was, but I certainly hated it.

It has been said that sharing my silver medal with that incident on the victory dais detracted from my performance.

On the contrary.

I have to confess, I was rather proud to be part of it”.

A picture paints a thousand words.  A single photograph can tell a powerful story.

Let us be a picture of God’s kingdom for all the world to see.

Amen.

*The story of Carlos, Smith and Norman was taken from this article by Ricardo Gazzaniga: http://www.filmsforaction.org/articles/the-white-man-in-that-photo/

Preaching: Lindsay Small
Text: 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28

Several years old our then 5-year-old son Micah discovered his very first Mad Lib on the back of a cereal box. He was asked for his favorite cartoon character, body part, animal sound, piece of clothing and number.

We filled in the answers into the blank spaces in the story below and I read the story out loud. He was young enough so that lines like…”All I could do was ‘Moo’ made him belly laugh with joy.

A few days later I saw an entire book of Mad Lib’s while checking out at the grocery store…my mind immediately conjured up evening after evening of good, clean, unplugged fun…nothing but Mad Lib’s for days! This is going to be great as I gleefully scanned the book and put it in my bag.

That night when I took out the book, he wasn’t as enthusiastic as I thought he would be…nevertheless I made him sit down with me anyway…(I was determined that this was going to be fun whether he liked it or not!).

The book was a little more tricky than the cereal box… I asked him for a noun, and he said, “What’s a noun?” Next came the adjective…the verb…and right around the time I was explaining the ‘ly’ endings of ADVERBS, Micah said, “Mom, can I play on the computer?”

I was ___________ BLANK frustrated…Fill in the adverb of your choice.

Four years, 6 ½ Harry Potter books, and two Mad Lib books later…and I don’t need to explain to him what a verb is anymore.

But this little parental good intention gone awry was on my mind this week as I read through our scripture text for this morning…

You see, Paul doesn’t need an explanation of what a verb is either… given the sheer NUMBER of verbs in this mornings scripture…he is WELL AWARE of this particular part of speech…and fills in most of the blanks with them!

This summer, we are making our way through New Testament epistles…surveying the themes and message of these beautiful letters by taking a look at 1, 2, and sometimes 3 books at a time. Phew!

And this morning…we’ll take a look at 1 and 2 Thessalonians.

And to do that, I’d like you to pretend they are in Mad Lib form, and we’ve just brought them home from the grocery store…anxious to crack them open.

Nothing like good, clean, unplugged Bible Mad Lib fun!

Let’s look at the verbs in particular. Now if we were to fill in every verb in both books, we’d be here until Wednesday…so instead I’d like to narrow our focus and consider two verbs:

-One of each in each book…

Why verbs in particular? I’m so glad you asked…

It’s because, as my favorite preacher Anna Carter Florence says, “We share the verbs. The nouns are different. But the verbs are the same.”

The folks in the Bible, and for this morning’s purposes…people that made up the church in Thessolonica…

• We don’t know what their houses looked like, their jobs, their cooking utensils…And even if we have evidence and archiaological digs to point us to a general notion…we still don’t share these things. Time has simply changed too much.
• But we know that they walked, they talked, they ate…and we do too!
• We know that they feared, they worried, they hoped…and we do too!

We share the verbs…they are the same in both of our Mad Lib books…

So we turn to our Thessalonian Mad Lib book…and to the introduction…which would probably sound something like this…

Even though they are only one number apart, 1 and 2 Thessalonians are very different. Their message and emphasis are at times worlds apart.

It’s almost as if they are meant for 2 different churches. But the truth is that something has occurred between 1 and 2 that intensifies and changes Paul’s tone as he writes the second letter.

The church itself has not changed location, but the location itself has changed.

First Thessalonians is all about UPBUILDING. It is written after Timothy comes back from a visit and gives Paul a glowing report of all that he has seen.

It is early in the life of this new fledgling church. Paul wrote this letter around 51 AD, the earliest letter on record.  Scholars say that if you lined up the books of the New Testament in the order they were written…First Thessalonians would come first…before Matthew!

We know that Paul has been there at some point, and then sent Timothy…and after Tim’s glowing report…Paul is pleased as punch (the noun, not the verb)

1. His letter has one over-arching verb: Encourage

Paul is encouraged and he writes to tell them to do the same.

He reminds them of the faith, hope, and love…that all come from God.

They are not alone in this infant church…God is with them, calling them, forming them, encouraging them.

The first two chapters is an ode to their awesomeness…’Be Encouraged.’

Paul writes in chapter 3, verse 13, “May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God…”

And Paul makes a turn towards the end of the book into his usual imperative-filled finale…

He tells them to be not just be encouraged…but to do the encouraging themselves,

In the passage that Lisa read this morning, “Encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone…”

And just because he’s on a roll…he gives a threefold encouragement benediction:

• Rejoice Always
• Pray Continually
• Give Thanks in all circumstances.

This is 1 Thessalonians: Encouragement so that we may encourage.

If this book was a Mad Lib…you could use this word in almost every blank.

Now, turning to our next Mad Lib, 2 Thessalonians, we quickly notice that the tone is different.

Paul is brief…to the point. The air around this book is heavy and thick.

Something has happened. As readers 2,000 years later, we are left with only limited information and speculation. And we really don’t know for sure how much time has gone by between the two letters…

But we do know that the church is being persecuted.

Pressures from the Roman government, the Jewish Authorities, and the heretics inside the church are causing confusion and pain.

In the very early verses Paul names the persecution that they are experiencing. Gone is the joy from the first book…Paul is serious and grave as he writes.

And so our verb for 2 Thessalonians is very different but no less important:

2. Stand firm in the faith

A verb so important it needs two words…

Chapter 2, verse 15, “15So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.”

What follows is not the waterfall of happy imperatives like ‘rejoice’ or ‘give thanks.’

Instead, the verbs are

 “Keep away…”

“Settle down”

and “Never tire…”

The persecution in the church had grown so bad that some believed that they Day of the Lord had already come…some had quit their vocations and refused to operate within society…they were idle and causing major disruptions among the believers…

And then there were those who were so captivated by the Lord’s return that they spent all their time speculating about it

Paul says ‘No.’ Cut it out. Stand firm in what I taught you.

This is the verb they are to fill in.

Stand firm…in your present situation. Do not daydream your day away by filling in your own verbs…do not answer the persecution you are feeling by filling in the blanks for yourself.

When we feel uneasy about our present situation, we have a tendency to want to be as certain as possible about things totally outside our control.

Our curiosity fades and our declarative statements grow louder and more frequent.

When we feel threatened…we look for certainty to console us. We try to fill in as many spaces as possible…

Paul is asking them to stand firm amidst uncertainty…a difficult thing for all of us. But our call none the less…

---

As I looked around this past week…I saw the air in America as think and heavy…I saw a lot of blank spaces. Usually proceeding the words, “Why?” “How?” and “How Long?”

We don’t like blank spaces. We want to fill in our own verbs…our own nouns…we want to make meaning of events that are so incredibly sad and troubling.

I found myself falling into the same trap. I want to say something. I want to say that all-meaningful thing that will make it all better.

I paced my mind…searching for that perfect phrase that would be one part comfort and another part challenge. A few sentences I could offer to fill in the huge blank that has lingered after the events of this past week.

But I’ve got nothing. I don’t know what to say. It’s still blank.

I heard a story this week of a woman who had gone to Downtown Dallas to sit at the end of the police tape line…A reporter came up to her and asked her what she was doing. She answered, “I don’t know.” “I don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. I just had to be here.”

In a day and age when people rush to post and fill in the blanks…I was relieved.

“I don’t know. I just had to be here.”

It may seem like an easy way out, saying “I don’t know.”

But I believe the real easy way out is: “I give up.”

I think Paul would agree that collective helplessness is not the answer.

There is great courage in saying “I don’t know” while at the same time being present.

As the church, we need to be present. It doesn’t mean that we have the answers…but it does mean that we will not retreat from the world when situations seem overwhelming and helpless. It means that we will not declare certainties on events that we are told not to predict.

Bishop Yvette Flunder calls us to this. She says,

Today I am calling on my Christian family to STOP hiding in predictable "last days" rhetoric to avoid getting involved in "these days".

Stop leaving the peace process up to God alone, while abdicating your responsibility.

God is calling you...Pray AND act!

I think Paul would have liked those verbs. Pray and act.

God is calling us to THESE DAYS…to be present…to encourage…to stand firm…to pray and to act.

Paul reminded the church that there was a lot they didn’t know…namely when the persecution would stop and when Christ would come again…

There are many wondering the same thing all around the world today…

But he told them what he did know: Be Encouraged. Stand Firm.

-Pray –Rejoice –Give Thanks –Love

---

Despite the sheer volume of them, Paul chose his verbs carefully. I would venture to guess that he didn’t write his letters as Mad Libs.

And really, neither should we.

A life of discipleship means relying on God and not ourselves for our next verb.

This is the blessing and burden of following Christ. We don’t get to choose our verbs… they have been chosen for us.

• Encourage one another…
• Stand firm in the faith…

Share these verbs with the Thessalonians, and share these verbs with one another…

I want to close this morning with a prayer from St. Francis…

May this be our prayer, our call…our answer…

"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,

To be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

It is in dying to self that we are born to eternal life."[5]

Preaching: Lindsay Small
Text: 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28

Several years old our then 5-year-old son Micah discovered his very first Mad Lib on the back of a cereal box. He was asked for his favorite cartoon character, body part, animal sound, piece of clothing and number.

We filled in the answers into the blank spaces in the story below and I read the story out loud. He was young enough so that lines like…”All I could do was ‘Moo’ made him belly laugh with joy.

A few days later I saw an entire book of Mad Lib’s while checking out at the grocery store…my mind immediately conjured up evening after evening of good, clean, unplugged fun…nothing but Mad Lib’s for days! This is going to be great as I gleefully scanned the book and put it in my bag.

That night when I took out the book, he wasn’t as enthusiastic as I thought he would be…nevertheless I made him sit down with me anyway…(I was determined that this was going to be fun whether he liked it or not!).

The book was a little more tricky than the cereal box… I asked him for a noun, and he said, “What’s a noun?” Next came the adjective…the verb…and right around the time I was explaining the ‘ly’ endings of ADVERBS, Micah said, “Mom, can I play on the computer?”

I was ___________ BLANK frustrated…Fill in the adverb of your choice.

Four years, 6 ½ Harry Potter books, and two Mad Lib books later…and I don’t need to explain to him what a verb is anymore.

But this little parental good intention gone awry was on my mind this week as I read through our scripture text for this morning…

You see, Paul doesn’t need an explanation of what a verb is either… given the sheer NUMBER of verbs in this mornings scripture…he is WELL AWARE of this particular part of speech…and fills in most of the blanks with them!

This summer, we are making our way through New Testament epistles…surveying the themes and message of these beautiful letters by taking a look at 1, 2, and sometimes 3 books at a time. Phew!

And this morning…we’ll take a look at 1 and 2 Thessalonians.

And to do that, I’d like you to pretend they are in Mad Lib form, and we’ve just brought them home from the grocery store…anxious to crack them open.

Nothing like good, clean, unplugged Bible Mad Lib fun!

Let’s look at the verbs in particular. Now if we were to fill in every verb in both books, we’d be here until Wednesday…so instead I’d like to narrow our focus and consider two verbs:

-One of each in each book…

Why verbs in particular? I’m so glad you asked…

It’s because, as my favorite preacher Anna Carter Florence says, “We share the verbs. The nouns are different. But the verbs are the same.”

The folks in the Bible, and for this morning’s purposes…people that made up the church in Thessolonica…

• We don’t know what their houses looked like, their jobs, their cooking utensils…And even if we have evidence and archiaological digs to point us to a general notion…we still don’t share these things. Time has simply changed too much.
• But we know that they walked, they talked, they ate…and we do too!
• We know that they feared, they worried, they hoped…and we do too!

We share the verbs…they are the same in both of our Mad Lib books…

So we turn to our Thessalonian Mad Lib book…and to the introduction…which would probably sound something like this…

Even though they are only one number apart, 1 and 2 Thessalonians are very different. Their message and emphasis are at times worlds apart.

It’s almost as if they are meant for 2 different churches. But the truth is that something has occurred between 1 and 2 that intensifies and changes Paul’s tone as he writes the second letter.

The church itself has not changed location, but the location itself has changed.

First Thessalonians is all about UPBUILDING. It is written after Timothy comes back from a visit and gives Paul a glowing report of all that he has seen.

It is early in the life of this new fledgling church. Paul wrote this letter around 51 AD, the earliest letter on record.  Scholars say that if you lined up the books of the New Testament in the order they were written…First Thessalonians would come first…before Matthew!

We know that Paul has been there at some point, and then sent Timothy…and after Tim’s glowing report…Paul is pleased as punch (the noun, not the verb)

1. His letter has one over-arching verb: Encourage

Paul is encouraged and he writes to tell them to do the same.

He reminds them of the faith, hope, and love…that all come from God.

They are not alone in this infant church…God is with them, calling them, forming them, encouraging them.

The first two chapters is an ode to their awesomeness…’Be Encouraged.’

Paul writes in chapter 3, verse 13, “May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God…”

And Paul makes a turn towards the end of the book into his usual imperative-filled finale…

He tells them to be not just be encouraged…but to do the encouraging themselves,

In the passage that Lisa read this morning, “Encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone…”

And just because he’s on a roll…he gives a threefold encouragement benediction:

• Rejoice Always
• Pray Continually
• Give Thanks in all circumstances.

This is 1 Thessalonians: Encouragement so that we may encourage.

If this book was a Mad Lib…you could use this word in almost every blank.

Now, turning to our next Mad Lib, 2 Thessalonians, we quickly notice that the tone is different.

Paul is brief…to the point. The air around this book is heavy and thick.

Something has happened. As readers 2,000 years later, we are left with only limited information and speculation. And we really don’t know for sure how much time has gone by between the two letters…

But we do know that the church is being persecuted.

Pressures from the Roman government, the Jewish Authorities, and the heretics inside the church are causing confusion and pain.

In the very early verses Paul names the persecution that they are experiencing. Gone is the joy from the first book…Paul is serious and grave as he writes.

And so our verb for 2 Thessalonians is very different but no less important:

2. Stand firm in the faith

A verb so important it needs two words…

Chapter 2, verse 15, “15So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.”

What follows is not the waterfall of happy imperatives like ‘rejoice’ or ‘give thanks.’

Instead, the verbs are

 “Keep away…”

“Settle down”

and “Never tire…”

The persecution in the church had grown so bad that some believed that they Day of the Lord had already come…some had quit their vocations and refused to operate within society…they were idle and causing major disruptions among the believers…

And then there were those who were so captivated by the Lord’s return that they spent all their time speculating about it

Paul says ‘No.’ Cut it out. Stand firm in what I taught you.

This is the verb they are to fill in.

Stand firm…in your present situation. Do not daydream your day away by filling in your own verbs…do not answer the persecution you are feeling by filling in the blanks for yourself.

When we feel uneasy about our present situation, we have a tendency to want to be as certain as possible about things totally outside our control.

Our curiosity fades and our declarative statements grow louder and more frequent.

When we feel threatened…we look for certainty to console us. We try to fill in as many spaces as possible…

Paul is asking them to stand firm amidst uncertainty…a difficult thing for all of us. But our call none the less…

---

As I looked around this past week…I saw the air in America as think and heavy…I saw a lot of blank spaces. Usually proceeding the words, “Why?” “How?” and “How Long?”

We don’t like blank spaces. We want to fill in our own verbs…our own nouns…we want to make meaning of events that are so incredibly sad and troubling.

I found myself falling into the same trap. I want to say something. I want to say that all-meaningful thing that will make it all better.

I paced my mind…searching for that perfect phrase that would be one part comfort and another part challenge. A few sentences I could offer to fill in the huge blank that has lingered after the events of this past week.

But I’ve got nothing. I don’t know what to say. It’s still blank.

I heard a story this week of a woman who had gone to Downtown Dallas to sit at the end of the police tape line…A reporter came up to her and asked her what she was doing. She answered, “I don’t know.” “I don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. I just had to be here.”

In a day and age when people rush to post and fill in the blanks…I was relieved.

“I don’t know. I just had to be here.”

It may seem like an easy way out, saying “I don’t know.”

But I believe the real easy way out is: “I give up.”

I think Paul would agree that collective helplessness is not the answer.

There is great courage in saying “I don’t know” while at the same time being present.

As the church, we need to be present. It doesn’t mean that we have the answers…but it does mean that we will not retreat from the world when situations seem overwhelming and helpless. It means that we will not declare certainties on events that we are told not to predict.

Bishop Yvette Flunder calls us to this. She says,

Today I am calling on my Christian family to STOP hiding in predictable "last days" rhetoric to avoid getting involved in "these days".

Stop leaving the peace process up to God alone, while abdicating your responsibility.

God is calling you...Pray AND act!

I think Paul would have liked those verbs. Pray and act.

God is calling us to THESE DAYS…to be present…to encourage…to stand firm…to pray and to act.

Paul reminded the church that there was a lot they didn’t know…namely when the persecution would stop and when Christ would come again…

There are many wondering the same thing all around the world today…

But he told them what he did know: Be Encouraged. Stand Firm.

-Pray –Rejoice –Give Thanks –Love

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Despite the sheer volume of them, Paul chose his verbs carefully. I would venture to guess that he didn’t write his letters as Mad Libs.

And really, neither should we.

A life of discipleship means relying on God and not ourselves for our next verb.

This is the blessing and burden of following Christ. We don’t get to choose our verbs… they have been chosen for us.

• Encourage one another…
• Stand firm in the faith…

Share these verbs with the Thessalonians, and share these verbs with one another…

I want to close this morning with a prayer from St. Francis…

May this be our prayer, our call…our answer…

"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,

To be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

It is in dying to self that we are born to eternal life."[5]

Preaching: Brian Keepers
Text: Colossians 3:1-17

Recently my oldest daughter, Emma, has gotten into comic books and graphic novels.  Comic books were my life when I was a kid, so it’s been a real point of connection between us.  She’s more of a DC girl whereas I prefer Marvel (those are two different comic book companies).  But of the DC Universe, my favorite is Batman.  This is largely because of the three films directed by Christopher Nolan, which for me stand above the whole deluge of superhero movies released in the past ten years.

There’s a key scene in the first film of the trilogy, Batman Begins, that goes like this: the millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, who secretly fights crime by night as Batman, runs into his childhood friend, Rachel Das.  Bruce is playing up his alter ego, out having a good time, living it up.  He bumps into Rachel and he is embarrassed.  This is all a show to conceal his identity as the Dark Knight.  He says to her, “Rachel, this is not all that I am.  Inside, there is more to me than all of this.”  She looks him in the eye and says, “Bruce, it’s not who you are on the inside but what you do that defines you.”

It’s not who you are on the inside…but what you do that defines you.  Rachel’s indictment of Bruce seems to reflect the view of our broader culture, which tells us: “You are defined by what you do, how you act, what you accomplish.”

The Apostle Paul, however, begs to differ.   The main theological theme of his letter to the Colossians, and really all his letters, says precisely the opposite.  It’s not what you do that defines you; it is who you are on the inside, at the core of your identity.  Or more accurately, Paul says it is who is inside you, and who you are inside, that most deeply defines you.  When we put our faith in the person of Jesus Christ, his very presence dwells in us by the power of the Holy Spirit.  “This is the mystery of the faith,” Paul says in one of the most famous verses in Colossians, “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” 

And our lives are caught up in Christ, hidden with him.  Christ is in us; and we are in Christ—this is the good news of the gospel.  This means that we are given a new status before God—a new identity as beloved daughters and sons of God.  To borrow some more from Paul’s language in Colossians, God has rescued us and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (1:13). 

All of this is our reality, by God’s grace through faith.  This is why Paul begins all of his letters, including Colossians, by addressing those to whom he’s writing as “saints in Christ.” Saints not in the sense of super-Christians or those who are morally perfect but the Greek word meaning “those who have been set apart.” Set apart as God’s chosen and holy ones because of who Christ is and what Christ has already done on our behalf.

That’s where Paul begins.  This is who you are in Christ.   Then and only then does Paul move to the practical question: “So how then shall we live?  What are we called to do?”    Back to the scene in Batman Begins.  Paul would say it this way:  You are defined by who you are in Christ.  And who you are in Christ determines how you are to live.

Last week Pastor Lindsay made the important point that it is essential to understand who a letter is addressed to. Paul and Timothy are writing this letter together to the Christians in the town of Colossae.  Like so many of the other churches in the ancient world, the Christians in Colossae faced both external and internal pressures.  Externally, they were being persecuted by the Roman Empire.  Internally, there was strife and division, primarily because of false teachers who were confusing the heart of the gospel.   

We’re not given the exact specifics of this false teaching, but there are clues in the letter that it had to do with a philosophy that insisted faith in Christ was not enough to be accepted by God or welcomed into the family of God.  You needed to follow certain rules and regulations and have certain spiritual experiences in order to “break through” to a place of special knowledge.  Only a few claimed to have access to the deep mysteries of God, and that made them better than everybody else (or so they boasted).  On top of this, a lot of people were getting mixed up with the worship of angels and other spiritualities that took the focus off Christ.

So Paul is strong in his emphasis of the true heart of the gospel—which is that Jesus Christ and his death and resurrection is enough for Jew and Gentile alike.  You don’t have to follow special rules and regulations.  You don’t need to discover special knowledge or discover the “Secret.”  And you certainly must not get all fixated on angels.  Jesus Christ himself is the word of truth and he alone is sufficient to put us in right relationship with God and make all things new.  This is the mystery of the faith—that Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the first born of all creation.   In him and through him all things were created.  And in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him Christ was pleased to reconcile all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

In other words, Paul wants them to know that they are new creations in Christ.  In their baptism, they were buried with Christ—the old person was put to death; and they have now been raised to new life in Christ through faith.  This is their truest reality now—not just when they physically die someday in the future.  No, they have been joined to Jesus and have been raised to new life now and are called to live out that new identity in Christ.  Here is how Paul says it in Colossians chapter 3:

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on the earth; for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.

Let’s hear that again: for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.  You have union with Jesus, and now his life is in you and you are in him, and that makes you a new person.  The old has gone; the new has come!  And if all of this is true, now you are called to live out that new identity!  Let who you are in Christ shape the way you live.

How then shall we live?  How do we act out our “being-in-Christ” identity?  There are two main imperatives that Paul gives us.  First, Paul urges us to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.” He goes on to say, “Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on the earth.”

What does Paul mean by this?  We’ve all heard the saying that some people are so heavenly minded they are no earthly good.  Is that what Paul is getting at?  When Paul exhorts us to “set our minds on things above,” he is not saying “just sit around thinking about heaven all the time.” Rather, he means be transformed by the renewing of your mind, and orient your life and devotion to Christ—give him first place—and let God’s truth saturate your minds.  Paul’s point is that the way we think about God and ourselves and the world directly affects the way we live.  Paul writes in Philippians that we have been given the mind of Christ.  Now we must think with it.  We must look at ourselves and the world from this Christian perspective.  God draws us into his story in Jesus—gives us a new and beautiful story.   A new story that tells us our self-worth and security is found in who we are in Christ, not in our vocations or our income or our personal achievements (or lack of for that matter).  Right thinking leads to right living.

But right thinking—setting our minds on things above—is not enough if we are going to grow into our baptismal identity and experience transformation.  As someone as said, Christians are not just brains on a stick.  We’re whole persons—head, heart, body and spirit. 

It reminds me of the Tony-Award winning musical, The Music Man.  Are you familiar with that story?  A con man named Harold Hill arrives mysteriously to a small Iowa town and poses as a music teacher.  He convinces the town that they need a boys marching band, and he collects all their money to order instruments and shiny new uniforms.  His plan is to then skip town with the money and move on to the next town to carry out the same scam.  While the boys are waiting for their instruments and uniforms to arrive (which are not coming), Hill “rehearses” them through what he calls the “think system.”  If the boys will just think hard enough about playing the notes, then they’ll automatically learn how to play the instruments without ever having to actually pick up an instrument and play a single note!  Of course the whole idea is ridiculous!  Anyone who has ever learned to play an instrument knows that the only way to become a skilled trombonist or clarinetist is by doing the hard work of practicing scales and putting in hours of rehearsing the music.  You can’t just think the right notes, you have to actually practice!  This is true for any skill we want to develop, right?

Well it’s also true for growing into our baptismal identity and becoming more like Jesus.   Just doing the “think system” isn’t enough.  It’s going to take practice!  This leads to the second main imperative Paul gives us.  Set your minds on things above, and then strip off the old and put on the new. 

Here’s how Paul says it:   Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry)….These are the way you once followed, says Paul, when you had a different identity.  But now you must get rid of all things!  It’s not who you are anymore!  Your life is hidden in Christ—you belong to Jesus and you are part of a different story.  Paul goes on: Seeing that you stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourself with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.

So Paul is saying that the way to live out this new identity in Christ, to put off the old and put on the new, is to practice certain virtues that we see in Christ.  He uses the image of putting on clothes that fit this new identity we have in Jesus.  Let me read it again for you, only this time from the Message.

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.  Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense.  Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master has forgiven you.  And regardless of what else you put on, wear love.  It’s your basic, all-purpose garment.  Never be without it. (The Message)

It’s quite a list, isn’t?  These things aren’t automatic, nor do they come naturally to any of us.  It’s hard work.  And we’re called to put these clothes on—put these Christ-like virtues into practice, even when we don’t feel like it.  Perhaps you’ve heard the saying that most often we don’t think or feel our ways into a new way of acting; we act our way into a new way of thinking and feeling.

I find C.S. Lewis so helpful in thinking about how this works.  In his classic book Mere Christianity, Lewis has a wonderful chapter titled, “Let’s Pretend” where he makes the distinction between two kinds of pretending.  He says there is the bad kind, where the pretense is there instead of the real thing; like Harold Hill pretending to be a music teacher in order to take advantage of others.  We call that deception and hypocrisy. 

But there is also a good kind of pretending, says Lewis, where the pretense leads up to the real thing.  Like when you’re not feeling particularly friendly, but you know you ought to be, so the best thing you can do is “put on” a friendly manner and behave as if you are a friendlier person than you actually are.  “And in a few minutes,” Lewis points out, “as we have all noticed, you will really be feeling friendlier than you were.  Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already.  That’s why children’s games are so important.  They’re always pretending to be grown ups—playing solders, playing shop.  But all the time, they are hardening their muscles and sharpening their wits, so that the pretence of being grown-up helps them to grow up in earnest.” (p. 163).

So it is with discipleship.  We set our minds on things above, and we put on these clothes of Christ-like virtues daily—so that God, by the power of the Holy Spirit, might harden our muscles and sharpen our wits and transform us to grow up in earnest into Christ.  Not feeling particularly compassionate?  That’s ok, play the part anyway!  Not feeling particularly patient?  That’s ok, put on patience anyway!  Not feeling like forgiving someone who has harmed you?  I understand, but act as though you have forgiven them anyway.  And soon enough your heart will follow.

Of course none of us can do this on our own.  To be hidden in Christ is to be incorporated into Christ’s body, the church, and we can only put on these clothes and grow as disciples of Jesus in community.  There are times when we don’t know how to put on compassion or kindness or humility, or we don’t want to put them on.  We need our community to help us do it, to hold us accountable.  Mike and Rachel, Lucas John will need the whole family of God to help him become who he is in Christ.  You will need this community to nurture him in the faith.  None of us gets dressed up in Christ all by ourselves.

As we set our minds on things above and as we practice getting dressed up together into the image of Jesus, something beautiful begins to happen.  Not only does this become our witness in the world—our way of living missionally as God’s people.  But it becomes our worship.   A lifestyle of worship. The more we practice, the more we actually become like Jesus from the inside out.  Over time, following Jesus becomes more like second nature—so that whatever we do, in word or deed, we find ourselves doing it all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Let me close with this.  Once there was a wicked man who fell in love with a virtuous woman.  The man knew that, in his present state of wickedness, he had no chance to woo her and so he put on the mask of a saint to disguise himself.  Sure enough, the woman fell in love with the man—or perhaps it is more accurate to say that she fell in love with the saintly mask.  Years later, when a spurned lover of the man showed up, she tried to expose the man as a fraud and insisted he take off his mask so the woman could see his ugly face as it really was.  The man protested but finally acquiesced to her demand.  When he took off the mask, he discovered what he could not have anticipated: under the mask of a saint, his face had become transformed.  It was the face of a saint.  In the act of playing the part of a saint, he actually became the role he was playing.

So it is with us.  Since we have been raised with Christ, our lives are hidden in Jesus.  Even now, we are more than what is visible.  So let’s pretend—in the best way Lewis speaks of.  Let’s put on the mask of Christ, which is to finally be free to take off all the other masks of the false selves we wear.  Let us set our minds on things above and practice getting dressed up into the character of Jesus. 

And know this: it is only when Christ returns that the mask will be removed, the veil will be lifted, and what a joy it will be for us to discover that when Jesus looks into our faces he will see the very reflection of his own.  The faces of saints, radiant with beauty and holiness, fully transformed into Christ’s image and likeness!

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Preaching: Brian Keepers
Text: Colossians 3:1-17

Recently my oldest daughter, Emma, has gotten into comic books and graphic novels.  Comic books were my life when I was a kid, so it’s been a real point of connection between us.  She’s more of a DC girl whereas I prefer Marvel (those are two different comic book companies).  But of the DC Universe, my favorite is Batman.  This is largely because of the three films directed by Christopher Nolan, which for me stand above the whole deluge of superhero movies released in the past ten years.

There’s a key scene in the first film of the trilogy, Batman Begins, that goes like this: the millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, who secretly fights crime by night as Batman, runs into his childhood friend, Rachel Das.  Bruce is playing up his alter ego, out having a good time, living it up.  He bumps into Rachel and he is embarrassed.  This is all a show to conceal his identity as the Dark Knight.  He says to her, “Rachel, this is not all that I am.  Inside, there is more to me than all of this.”  She looks him in the eye and says, “Bruce, it’s not who you are on the inside but what you do that defines you.”

It’s not who you are on the inside…but what you do that defines you.  Rachel’s indictment of Bruce seems to reflect the view of our broader culture, which tells us: “You are defined by what you do, how you act, what you accomplish.”

The Apostle Paul, however, begs to differ.   The main theological theme of his letter to the Colossians, and really all his letters, says precisely the opposite.  It’s not what you do that defines you; it is who you are on the inside, at the core of your identity.  Or more accurately, Paul says it is who is inside you, and who you are inside, that most deeply defines you.  When we put our faith in the person of Jesus Christ, his very presence dwells in us by the power of the Holy Spirit.  “This is the mystery of the faith,” Paul says in one of the most famous verses in Colossians, “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” 

And our lives are caught up in Christ, hidden with him.  Christ is in us; and we are in Christ—this is the good news of the gospel.  This means that we are given a new status before God—a new identity as beloved daughters and sons of God.  To borrow some more from Paul’s language in Colossians, God has rescued us and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (1:13). 

All of this is our reality, by God’s grace through faith.  This is why Paul begins all of his letters, including Colossians, by addressing those to whom he’s writing as “saints in Christ.” Saints not in the sense of super-Christians or those who are morally perfect but the Greek word meaning “those who have been set apart.” Set apart as God’s chosen and holy ones because of who Christ is and what Christ has already done on our behalf.

That’s where Paul begins.  This is who you are in Christ.   Then and only then does Paul move to the practical question: “So how then shall we live?  What are we called to do?”    Back to the scene in Batman Begins.  Paul would say it this way:  You are defined by who you are in Christ.  And who you are in Christ determines how you are to live.

Last week Pastor Lindsay made the important point that it is essential to understand who a letter is addressed to. Paul and Timothy are writing this letter together to the Christians in the town of Colossae.  Like so many of the other churches in the ancient world, the Christians in Colossae faced both external and internal pressures.  Externally, they were being persecuted by the Roman Empire.  Internally, there was strife and division, primarily because of false teachers who were confusing the heart of the gospel.   

We’re not given the exact specifics of this false teaching, but there are clues in the letter that it had to do with a philosophy that insisted faith in Christ was not enough to be accepted by God or welcomed into the family of God.  You needed to follow certain rules and regulations and have certain spiritual experiences in order to “break through” to a place of special knowledge.  Only a few claimed to have access to the deep mysteries of God, and that made them better than everybody else (or so they boasted).  On top of this, a lot of people were getting mixed up with the worship of angels and other spiritualities that took the focus off Christ.

So Paul is strong in his emphasis of the true heart of the gospel—which is that Jesus Christ and his death and resurrection is enough for Jew and Gentile alike.  You don’t have to follow special rules and regulations.  You don’t need to discover special knowledge or discover the “Secret.”  And you certainly must not get all fixated on angels.  Jesus Christ himself is the word of truth and he alone is sufficient to put us in right relationship with God and make all things new.  This is the mystery of the faith—that Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the first born of all creation.   In him and through him all things were created.  And in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him Christ was pleased to reconcile all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

In other words, Paul wants them to know that they are new creations in Christ.  In their baptism, they were buried with Christ—the old person was put to death; and they have now been raised to new life in Christ through faith.  This is their truest reality now—not just when they physically die someday in the future.  No, they have been joined to Jesus and have been raised to new life now and are called to live out that new identity in Christ.  Here is how Paul says it in Colossians chapter 3:

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on the earth; for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.

Let’s hear that again: for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.  You have union with Jesus, and now his life is in you and you are in him, and that makes you a new person.  The old has gone; the new has come!  And if all of this is true, now you are called to live out that new identity!  Let who you are in Christ shape the way you live.

How then shall we live?  How do we act out our “being-in-Christ” identity?  There are two main imperatives that Paul gives us.  First, Paul urges us to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.” He goes on to say, “Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on the earth.”

What does Paul mean by this?  We’ve all heard the saying that some people are so heavenly minded they are no earthly good.  Is that what Paul is getting at?  When Paul exhorts us to “set our minds on things above,” he is not saying “just sit around thinking about heaven all the time.” Rather, he means be transformed by the renewing of your mind, and orient your life and devotion to Christ—give him first place—and let God’s truth saturate your minds.  Paul’s point is that the way we think about God and ourselves and the world directly affects the way we live.  Paul writes in Philippians that we have been given the mind of Christ.  Now we must think with it.  We must look at ourselves and the world from this Christian perspective.  God draws us into his story in Jesus—gives us a new and beautiful story.   A new story that tells us our self-worth and security is found in who we are in Christ, not in our vocations or our income or our personal achievements (or lack of for that matter).  Right thinking leads to right living.

But right thinking—setting our minds on things above—is not enough if we are going to grow into our baptismal identity and experience transformation.  As someone as said, Christians are not just brains on a stick.  We’re whole persons—head, heart, body and spirit. 

It reminds me of the Tony-Award winning musical, The Music Man.  Are you familiar with that story?  A con man named Harold Hill arrives mysteriously to a small Iowa town and poses as a music teacher.  He convinces the town that they need a boys marching band, and he collects all their money to order instruments and shiny new uniforms.  His plan is to then skip town with the money and move on to the next town to carry out the same scam.  While the boys are waiting for their instruments and uniforms to arrive (which are not coming), Hill “rehearses” them through what he calls the “think system.”  If the boys will just think hard enough about playing the notes, then they’ll automatically learn how to play the instruments without ever having to actually pick up an instrument and play a single note!  Of course the whole idea is ridiculous!  Anyone who has ever learned to play an instrument knows that the only way to become a skilled trombonist or clarinetist is by doing the hard work of practicing scales and putting in hours of rehearsing the music.  You can’t just think the right notes, you have to actually practice!  This is true for any skill we want to develop, right?

Well it’s also true for growing into our baptismal identity and becoming more like Jesus.   Just doing the “think system” isn’t enough.  It’s going to take practice!  This leads to the second main imperative Paul gives us.  Set your minds on things above, and then strip off the old and put on the new. 

Here’s how Paul says it:   Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry)….These are the way you once followed, says Paul, when you had a different identity.  But now you must get rid of all things!  It’s not who you are anymore!  Your life is hidden in Christ—you belong to Jesus and you are part of a different story.  Paul goes on: Seeing that you stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourself with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.

So Paul is saying that the way to live out this new identity in Christ, to put off the old and put on the new, is to practice certain virtues that we see in Christ.  He uses the image of putting on clothes that fit this new identity we have in Jesus.  Let me read it again for you, only this time from the Message.

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.  Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense.  Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master has forgiven you.  And regardless of what else you put on, wear love.  It’s your basic, all-purpose garment.  Never be without it. (The Message)

It’s quite a list, isn’t?  These things aren’t automatic, nor do they come naturally to any of us.  It’s hard work.  And we’re called to put these clothes on—put these Christ-like virtues into practice, even when we don’t feel like it.  Perhaps you’ve heard the saying that most often we don’t think or feel our ways into a new way of acting; we act our way into a new way of thinking and feeling.

I find C.S. Lewis so helpful in thinking about how this works.  In his classic book Mere Christianity, Lewis has a wonderful chapter titled, “Let’s Pretend” where he makes the distinction between two kinds of pretending.  He says there is the bad kind, where the pretense is there instead of the real thing; like Harold Hill pretending to be a music teacher in order to take advantage of others.  We call that deception and hypocrisy. 

But there is also a good kind of pretending, says Lewis, where the pretense leads up to the real thing.  Like when you’re not feeling particularly friendly, but you know you ought to be, so the best thing you can do is “put on” a friendly manner and behave as if you are a friendlier person than you actually are.  “And in a few minutes,” Lewis points out, “as we have all noticed, you will really be feeling friendlier than you were.  Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already.  That’s why children’s games are so important.  They’re always pretending to be grown ups—playing solders, playing shop.  But all the time, they are hardening their muscles and sharpening their wits, so that the pretence of being grown-up helps them to grow up in earnest.” (p. 163).

So it is with discipleship.  We set our minds on things above, and we put on these clothes of Christ-like virtues daily—so that God, by the power of the Holy Spirit, might harden our muscles and sharpen our wits and transform us to grow up in earnest into Christ.  Not feeling particularly compassionate?  That’s ok, play the part anyway!  Not feeling particularly patient?  That’s ok, put on patience anyway!  Not feeling like forgiving someone who has harmed you?  I understand, but act as though you have forgiven them anyway.  And soon enough your heart will follow.

Of course none of us can do this on our own.  To be hidden in Christ is to be incorporated into Christ’s body, the church, and we can only put on these clothes and grow as disciples of Jesus in community.  There are times when we don’t know how to put on compassion or kindness or humility, or we don’t want to put them on.  We need our community to help us do it, to hold us accountable.  Mike and Rachel, Lucas John will need the whole family of God to help him become who he is in Christ.  You will need this community to nurture him in the faith.  None of us gets dressed up in Christ all by ourselves.

As we set our minds on things above and as we practice getting dressed up together into the image of Jesus, something beautiful begins to happen.  Not only does this become our witness in the world—our way of living missionally as God’s people.  But it becomes our worship.   A lifestyle of worship. The more we practice, the more we actually become like Jesus from the inside out.  Over time, following Jesus becomes more like second nature—so that whatever we do, in word or deed, we find ourselves doing it all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Let me close with this.  Once there was a wicked man who fell in love with a virtuous woman.  The man knew that, in his present state of wickedness, he had no chance to woo her and so he put on the mask of a saint to disguise himself.  Sure enough, the woman fell in love with the man—or perhaps it is more accurate to say that she fell in love with the saintly mask.  Years later, when a spurned lover of the man showed up, she tried to expose the man as a fraud and insisted he take off his mask so the woman could see his ugly face as it really was.  The man protested but finally acquiesced to her demand.  When he took off the mask, he discovered what he could not have anticipated: under the mask of a saint, his face had become transformed.  It was the face of a saint.  In the act of playing the part of a saint, he actually became the role he was playing.

So it is with us.  Since we have been raised with Christ, our lives are hidden in Jesus.  Even now, we are more than what is visible.  So let’s pretend—in the best way Lewis speaks of.  Let’s put on the mask of Christ, which is to finally be free to take off all the other masks of the false selves we wear.  Let us set our minds on things above and practice getting dressed up into the character of Jesus. 

And know this: it is only when Christ returns that the mask will be removed, the veil will be lifted, and what a joy it will be for us to discover that when Jesus looks into our faces he will see the very reflection of his own.  The faces of saints, radiant with beauty and holiness, fully transformed into Christ’s image and likeness!

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.