St. Pete's on Repeat

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers. 

If you enjoy gardening, how do you feel when you dig into a helping of the vegetables you harvested? Oh, these beans are delicious! These carrots are so sweet! These are the juiciest tomatoes ever! For some reason, they taste just a little bit better than anything you might buy at the store or farmer’s market, don’t they? You enjoy reaping what you have sown. You plant the right seeds; you pull the weeds; you water the plants; and you enjoy the blessings of the harvest! You reap what you sow.

The Apostle gives us this lesson for our lives today as we take time for perspective. What is perspective? The dictionary defines it as the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance. The perspective our loving Lord gives us today is we’ll reap what we sow in our daily lives. If we sow to please our sinful nature, what would we reap? When we sow to please the Spirit, what will we reap? Let’s find out.

We reap what we sow. This maxim certainly applies to life in general. A youth who faithfully studies and prepares for adult life usually reaps the rewards of meaningful, productive work. The youth who sows wild oats, wasting his time on sinful excess may ruin his life. In marriage, sowing years of miscommunication and selfishness reaps harsh words and bitter feelings. Sowing seeds of love, consideration, forgiveness, mutual helpfulness and respect reaps the joy of a family peace and unity.

We reap what we sow. In our lesson the apostle applies this to our spiritual lives and eternal destiny. Sowing to please the sinful nature, living only to gratify the desires of our sinful flesh, will reap destruction, he warns. In chapter 5 Paul catalogues some of the open sins that result: “The acts of the sinful nature are obvious. Sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery, idolatry and witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy, drunkenness, orgies and the like” (5:19).

Oh, yes, we see plenty of those sins in the world around us. But sowing to the flesh is not only found among unbelieving people. Look at examples in Scripture: King David, a man after God's own heart, sowed to the flesh when he lusted after Bathsheba; Peter, when he thought more of his safety than of loyalty to Christ; Judas, by loving money more than Christ. You and I are tempted to sow to please the sinful nature since we still have that old self, that rebel against God, living within us. It taunts, “Go ahead! Who cares what the Ten Commandments say. Everyone else is doing it! It’s only once! No one will ever know! You can always be forgiven later!”

Perhaps the greatest danger confronting us is to sow to please that little self-righteous Pharisee that lurks within our hearts. We see people make a mess of their lives, and we are tempted to smugly think, “Of course they wrecked their lives! What else did they expect when they lived that way? They should have been more like me.”

What harvest do those who sow to the flesh reap? Destruction! King David destroyed his conscience and the latter part of his rule. Peter destroyed his bond with Jesus and his confidence as a disciple. Judas reaped the ultimate destruction as he totally lost his faith in Jesus as his Saviour. Destruction is eternal ruin, everlasting damnation, and eternal separation from God in hell. Think of Jesus’ account of the rich man in hell. He was in torment and longed for just a drop of water on his tongue. The world may laugh at God’s warning, but Paul answers, “Do not be deceived, God cannot be mocked.” His Word stands! “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law” (Gal. 5:10). Sowing to please the sinful nature never, never, never brings satisfaction in life. It always, always, always ends in tears, regret, and hell. 

Do you realize why God gives us this stark warning? He loves us! He wants us to escape the destruction that comes from sowing to the flesh and to have life to the full, now by faith, and forever with Him in heaven! So, He promises, “The one who sows to please the Spirit from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” What pleases the Spirit of God? He wants all to be saved! He wants you and me to be saved! Jesus told Nicodemus, “I tell you the truth, no one can enter the Kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.”

Thank God the Holy Spirit that He created the miracle of faith in us through our baptism! Thank God the Holy Spirit that He keeps us in faith through the Word and Sacrament. Through these Means of Grace, the Holy Spirit leads us to our Saviour’s cross where the Son of God, who had no sin, reaped the destruction we deserved for our sin. For Jesus’ sake, God has cleansed us from all sin and covered us in Jesus’ holiness. Since God our Saviour wants us to be saved, pleasing the Spirit means growing in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ throughout our lives. When we do, He promises that despite our doubts and the times in weakness we still fall into sin, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippian 1:6)! Hear and learn God’s Word – please the Spirit! Remember your baptism – please the Spirit. Receive forgiveness and renewed faith and love at the Lord’s Table – please the Spirit! And, as surely God loves us in Christ, so we love Him and want to live for Him according to His Word -please the Spirit!

Paul notes in chapter 5, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentle list, and self-control” (5:22-23). In our lesson he encourages, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers” (v. 9-10).

Are you tempted to think, “But aren’t we supposed to please ourselves first if we want to be happy? That’s what everyone else does! And when I do something good, no one notices or appreciates it anyhow”? Holy Spirit, drive such selfish thoughts out of our minds! Did our Lord grow weary in doing good? Did people always appreciate His self-sacrificing love? Yet He never grew tired of helping and teaching, suffering wrong and finally He even died for His enemies.

Our Lord teaches us not to do good for the sake of being seen and praised by others. We certainly don’t do good to earn eternal life. We receive forgiveness of sins and eternal life by faith in Jesus. Since we are living forever, Christ’s love compels us to do good to serve God and serve our neighbor. Every kind word we say, every kind act we do for Jesus’ sake, is a sign of the faith the Holy Spirit has given. Thank God for the perspective on life He has given us – we reap what we sow! By His grace, sow to please the Spirit! Amen.

14 Now fear the Lord and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your ancestors worshiped beyond the Euphrates River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. 15 But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

16 Then the people answered, “Far be it from us to forsake the Lord to serve other gods! 17 It was the Lord our God himself who brought us and our parents up out of Egypt, from that land of slavery, and performed those great signs before our eyes. He protected us on our entire journey and among all the nations through which we traveled. 18 And the Lord drove out before us all the nations, including the Amorites, who lived in the land. We too will serve the Lord, because he is our God.”

19 Joshua said to the people, “You are not able to serve the Lord. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. 20 If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you and make an end of you, after he has been good to you.”

21 But the people said to Joshua, “No! We will serve the Lord.”

22 Then Joshua said, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen to serve the Lord.”

“Yes, we are witnesses,” they replied.

23 “Now then,” said Joshua, “throw away the foreign gods that are among you and yield your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.”

24 And the people said to Joshua, “We will serve the Lord our God and obey him.”

How many choices do you make every day? Sometimes it feels like life is on autopilot, doesn’t it? There’s not a whole lot of choice; you just follow a predetermined well-worn path. You get up, eat breakfast, shower, get dressed, go to work/school, do what your boss or teacher tells you to do, get home, eater dinner, watch TV, go to bed, rinse and repeat tomorrow. But even that predetermined, well-worn path is just a choice you’ve already made – you chose your job/career, you might have chosen your classes. And within that rut are all kinds of micro-choices you have to make, like what you’ll have for breakfast, which clothes you’re going to wear, whether you’ll talk to that weird person you pass in the hall every day, etc…

We are surrounded by choices. We make decisions every minute of every day. Some are difficult. Others are easy. It’s one thing to decide what you want to do when you grow up, where you want to go on vacation. It’s something else entirely to choose whether you drive within the lanes on the Henday or veer off into the ditch, whether you eat the Twinkie, or the wrapper it came in. Some choices are absolute no-brainers.

And that’s the kind of choice that Joshua laid before the people of Israel as they stood in the land God had been promising to give them for hundreds of years. He said, “Now fear the LORD and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your forefathers worshiped beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the LORD. But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living.” 

At first glance, when Joshua says, “Choose for yourselves whom you will serve,” it almost sounds like an invitation, e.g. “Go, do your research. Don’t take my word for it. Experiment. It doesn’t really matter which God you worship. Find the right one for you. Just don’t do nothing. Don’t be spiritually lazy.” After all, that’s what the world tells us, isn’t it? That’s the choice that our teenagers and university students and churchless adults confront every day. “There are so many religions out there. I just have to pick the right one for me. I just have to choose who my god will be.”

But that’s not what Joshua is saying at all. He doesn’t hold up the gods of Babylon and Egypt as viable alternatives to the God of Israel. What he’s trying to do is point out the hypocrisy and inconsistency that many of the Israelites embodied – the thinking: “I can follow the God of Israel and hold on to these other traditions and practices that are part of my family heritage, that my friends and neighbours value.” That’d be like pledging money to Poilievre’s campaign but voting for Trudeau. That’d be like rooting for the Oilers at Roger’s Place in the battle of Alberta while wearing a Flame’s jersey. The two things don’t go together!

And while we can come up with all kinds of historical or hypothetical examples of hypocrisy, it’s not always as easy or as pleasant to uproot our own. Do you remember these words? “Do you desire to remain faithful to the teachings of Christ, be diligent in the use of God’s Word and sacraments, and lead a godly life as the Lord gives you strength? If so, answer: I do, and I ask God to help me.” Many of us made that promise when we were confirmed or received into membership at this congregation. We made a solemn vow before God and each other. How have we done? Joshua told the people to throw away all of the other gods in their tents, the gods their forefathers worshiped alongside the true God. What are the gods of your fathers that have found a home in your tent?

Maybe your dad abused alcohol growing up, and you use that as an excuse to do the same, holding onto that empty god which promises everything and gives you nothing but a headache. You can’t serve both God and alcohol. Maybe your dad was always at work and didn’t have time for you as a kid, and you use that as an excuse to hold onto that empty god that  promises success, but only leaves you fatigued to be faithful in the other areas of your life. You can’t serve both God and work. Maybe your mother was rude to your father growing up, and you use that as an excuse to hold onto that empty god that promises you the good feeling of superiority but only leaves you with burned bridges and a guilty conscience. You can’t serve both God and self. Is your god a busy-ness that neglects worship of the true God? Is your god greed? You can’t serve both God and money.

What are the idols in your tent? And which one will you choose – the one and only true God or one of the many empty gods that Satan uses to lead souls to hell? I suspect that everyone here today would say the same thing the Israelites did: “Far be it from us to forsake the LORD and serve other gods!...we will serve the LORD because he is our God!” And that’s the right answer! It’s the only answer; it’s a no-brainer. You might expect Joshua to be proud, but that’s not how he responds:

“You are not able to serve the LORD. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. If you forsake the LORD and serve other gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you and make an end of you, after he has been good to you!”

Joshua knows his people! He knows that talk the talk, but don’t always walk the walk. Joshua is saying, “Don’t just say what you think God  (or your pastor or your spouse or your mom) wants you to say. Don’t you know what kind of God you are dealing with? He is holy and jealous! Don’t you dare come to him thinking, ‘though it makes him sad to see the way we live, he’ll always say, ‘I forgive.’” Our God is not a soft cuddly Santa in the sky who drools over easy lip service. He is not a God who is pleased with our strongly worded confirmation vows when they are followed by weakly lived lives. You have to be all in!

I’m sure you’ve heard the hog and hen story. Both hog and hen were walking past a church and noted the pastor’s sermon title on the outside bulletin board. It read: “What can we do to help the poor?” As hogs and hens are wont to do, they entered into earnest conversation over the question as they continued on their way. At last, the hen had a bright idea: “I’ve got it!” She cackled, “We can help the poor by giving them a ham and eggs breakfast!” “Oh, no you don’t,” shot back the hog, “for you, that only means a contribution, but for me, it means total commitment.” The hog was right. That is Joshua’s point—there can be no chicken’s way out; we must go “whole hog” for Jesus.

So the question is not will you say you will only follow God and put away all other idols in your life. The question is are you willing to do it? What’s your choice? It’s easy to say something. It’s another thing entirely to back it up with action. But that’s what makes God’s choice so beautiful.

There Jesus was in the halls of his heavenly Father enjoying eternity in perfect glory, when suddenly he had a choice to make: Do I stay here in the painless perfection of heaven, or do I give up my glory and descend into the dirty, grimy world below and give up my life through torture and torment on a cross for a mass of humanity that likes to say they love me, but shows a different face entirely on Monday morning and Saturday night? The spectator might look at Jesus and think, “That’s a no-brainer. That’s an easy choice.” And Jesus would agree, but for an entirely different reason.

For Jesus it was a no-brainer to leave heaven and come to earth and die for you, because he loves you. For all the times our faith has faltered, for all the times we gave our attention to something/someone else, Jesus came to earth with consistent determination and undivided attention to save you. He marched to his death on the cross so that you could live with him forever in heaven. He took away your sin and your guilt and your shame and replaced it with peace and joy in his name.

And that’s not just a gift he gave to you 2,000 years ago, or a gift that will only apply to you on some undisclosed future occasion when you finally go to heaven. He still treats you with the same consistent determination and undivided attention today and every day. Think about that! How many times has your mind wandered in this one sermon? His attention is still on you. With all the things – all the cares and concerns he has all over the world, all at once – in his mind, there is nothing better to do than to love you. That’s your God.

And that’s why Joshua was able to make his pledge of allegiance: “As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.” Make it yours, too. This week, do some soul searching about the idols that you have allowed to stay in your tent and choose to throw them out and only serve the LORD. That is going to be hard. But remember who your God is. He is the one who delivered the Israelites from slavery, and provided for them in the desert, and led them to the Promised Land. And he’s done the same for you. He has delivered you from your sin. He provides for you every day. And he is preparing a place for you even now in his heavenly home.

So, people of God, choose this day whom you will serve. Give up your empty gods. Embrace the true God. It’s a no-brainer. As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord. Amen.

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the  train of his robe filled the temple. 2Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. 3And they were calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
          the whole earth is full of his glory.”

4At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.

5“Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”

6Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. 7With it he touched my mouth and said, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.”

8Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”

And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

This may seem like a strange question, but have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? If so, was it worth it? Seth Myers hosts a podcast with his brother called Family Trips where they explore different families’ experiences on holiday together. I think he does this for every guest that comes on the podcast, one of – if not the last question he asks is, “Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon, and if so, was it worth it?”

Seth is a skeptic. He doesn’t believe it’s worth the hype. He’s convinced that a picture would be more than enough to capture the grandeur of the Grand Canyon, which would mean that you wouldn’t have to travel so far out of your way to stand in the exact same place where millions of people have stood before just so that you could see with your own eyes the exact same thing you could see in high definition at home on a screen.

Respectfully, I disagree and so do, I think, the many millions of people who do make the trip every year to see the Grand Canyon with their own eyes. There are some things that a camera just can’t capture. Maybe you’ve had that experience yourself. You’re driving through Del Bonita on the Montana border and you see the Rocky Mountain range rise out of the prairie. You’re blown away by its beauty. You pull the car over. You take your phone out. You snap the picture that you think you’ll print out and hang on your wall at home, but then you look at your screen and it doesn’t look like anything.

There are some views that just defy description. There are some images that are so beautiful you can’t find words to match. There are some sights that can only be seen, and cannot be shared unless you were there.

That’s what we read about in Isaiah’s prophecy this morning. Isaiah says,

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: with two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying.[1]

Does it strike you as it does me that Isaiah starts by saying, “I saw the Lord,” and then proceeds to describe everything but the Lord? You hear about his robe. You hear about the temple and the throne. You get more description of the seraphim than the Lord. But who cares about the angels? God is right there! So few people have seen him and lived to tell the tale. Tell us what God looks like!

But Isaiah doesn’t. He tells us so much that we need to know about God, but some things are complex beyond understanding. Some things are too beautiful for words to describe. And what Isaiah does tell us is enough to leave us slack-jawed and starry-eyed more than you’d be if you stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon.

The first thing Isaiah draws our attention to is God’s grandeur – high, exalted, on a throne; he is massive in size and importance. There are angels whose sole occupation is to fly around praising his name. In fact, he is even so glorious that these holy angels – who have never committed a sin and have no reason for guilt or shame – cover their faces and their feet as an expression of modesty in his presence.

The first thing Isaiah notices and draws our attention to is God’s grandeur. The second thing Isaiah notices is his significant lack of grandeur or glory.

Have you ever gone to one of those Instagram worthy hotspots and you want your own picture of Peyto Lake or Lake Louise but then you look at the picture you took and it’s not the same as what you saw online? The glory was right there. It’s not that you caught the lake on a bad day. It’s that you’re not as good a photographer – or you don’t have as good a camera or you don’t know how to use it as well as someone else. So, despite having seen this amazing view, you walk away a little disappointed because you didn’t get the keepsake that you wanted and you know that every time you show that picture you’re going to have to say, “It looks even better than this in person.”

When we’re in the presence of glory or greatness, it can be equal parts awe inspiring and guilt inducing at the same time.

Maybe it’s not a landscape. Maybe it’s a person. You have a classmate who is just better than you. You have a coworker or a competitor who just does a better job than you. It can be inspiring. It can make you want to be better. But it can also be deflating and defeating.

Imagine what Isaiah must have been feeling standing in the presence of the holy God. We don’t have to wonder. He tells us:

“Woe to me! I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”[2]

Isaiah had just witnessed what clean lips do. They praise the Lord perfectly and perpetually. The angels were calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”[3]

Isaiah’s lips didn’t always do that. Standing before the holy, sinless, perfect Lord God Almighty, Isaiah suddenly remembered all the hasty words he spoke out of pride or anger. He remembered all the lies and the slander that didn’t seem all that important at the time, but now… He remembered all the moments when the right word properly spoken would have made a world of difference, but it never escaped his lips.

Can you relate? I know I can. I haven’t stood in the throne room of God, but my unclean lips and life rob me of sleep at night. It’s a terrifying prospect to stand at the brink of such glorious holiness, and Isaiah was rightly afraid. It was a powerful reminder of how unworthy he really was. There was one thing that didn’t fit in this picture and it was Isaiah. He was the only unholy thing in it.

But as glorious as the sight of God was – beautiful beyond description, complex beyond understanding – what was even more glorious on that occasion than God’s holiness was his graciousness.

Can you imagine what must have been going through Isaiah’s mind after this? A holy, unworldly angel unlike anything you had ever seen or dreamed of comes flying at you holding a burning coal in a set of tongs and rushing toward your face. Isaiah was terrified. I would have been too. But far from being a judgment or a punishment, that angel tenderly (if also painfully) applied that holy coal at the precise place where Isaiah felt his guilt the most.

Isaiah didn’t melt for standing in the Lord’s presence. He wasn’t vaporized by God’s glory. His guilt didn’t disqualify him from being there. His guilt was forgiven, cleansed, cauterized out of him. He need not fear the holy God before him. And although Isaiah doesn’t describe his facial features for us, a little extra Bible study will reveal some details about that holy God that we never could have known or imagined. After quoting Isaiah twice in two sentences, the Apostle John says:

Isaiah said this because he saw Jesus’ glory and spoke about him.[4]

When Isaiah saw the Lord, he was actually looking at Jesus, i.e. the second member of the Trinity, the eternal Son of God, the Saviour of the world. And when we realize this, what the angel did for Isaiah takes on even greater significance.

It was Jesus, our Saviour, who sent a messenger directly, personally to Isaiah with an announcement of forgiveness and salvation. And the means to convey that message is significant too – a coal from the altar. That’s where sacrifices are made to pay for sin. That’s what Jesus did to forgive yours. He sacrificed himself – not on an altar, but on the cross – to take away your guilt and to atone for your sin.

And, Christian, this is so important. We all have guilt. We are all unworthy. We have all done things, said things, that are not only unkind but unchristian. We have all failed to make the most out of every opportunity that God has given us to praise his name in our own lives, let alone proclaim that name to others. We have all fallen short and failed to measure up to the holy standard of our holy God.

But what God does here for Isaiah is so beautiful. He doesn’t say, “It’s OK. Don’t worry about. You did your best. I understand.” In fact he emphasizes the severity of your sin by drawing your attention to the sacrifice your sin necessitated. But then he displays his grace in applying that sacrifice to you personally, individually in the same way he did for Isaiah.

No, there will be no communal cauterization today, but think about what God has given you to touch your lips and take away your guilt. For many of you, that’s his own body and blood given and poured out for the forgiveness of your sins. For most of you, that’s his Holy Spirit whom he poured out on you along with the waters of your baptism. For all of you, that’s his holy Word that enters through your ears and takes residence in your heart, so that you can know that this holy, perfect, sinless, glorious God loves and cares about and forgives a sinner like you.

And not only that – not only does God take away your guilt and assure of his love – he rights the wrong. He gives you strength where you were weak. He gives you purpose and direction where you have faltered and wandered. And he does it in an equally tender, compassionate, gracious way:

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”[5]

That’s what God said to Isaiah, who was self-conscious about his sins of speech. Not only did God cleanse his lips, he gave him opportunity to willingly use those lips for God’s glory and for the benefit of other people.

God does that for you too. He takes away your guilt, and gives you opportunity to put your formerly sinful, now forgiven body parts to use for his glory and for the benefit of other people. To speak. To praise his name in your own life and to proclaim that name to others. That’s not an office or occupation that you earn by years of hard work and experience. It’s a gift that gives to each and every one of you, purely out of his grace and forgiveness.

Whom shall God send? And who will go for him?

By his grace and power and by the working of his Holy Spirit in your heart, may your daily answer be: “Here am I. Send me!” Amen.

[1] Isaiah 6:1,2

[2] Isaiah 6:5

[3] Isaiah 6:3

[4] John 12:41

[5] Isaiah 6:8

7But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. This is what it says:

“When he ascended on high,
          he took many captives
          and gave gifts to his people.”

9(What does “he ascended” mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions? 10He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.) 11So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, 12to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up 13until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

14Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. 15Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. 16From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Do you remember what it felt like to take the training wheels off your bike? Do you remember that first time you ventured out into the deep end of the pool without your floaties? Do you remember unloading all your stuff into your college dorm or your own apartment for the first time? Or maybe the first time you went solo at work without supervision or backup? It’s exhilarating and terrifying; it’s empowering and anxiety-inducing all at the same time.

In some ways I have to imagine that’s what the disciples were feeling when Jesus’ feet left the earth.

They had been properly prepared. They had spent 3 years following Jesus as he traveled throughout the towns and villages of Galilee and Judea. During that time, Jesus had even sent them out on their own side missions to gain some practical experience in ministry. They had gone through the roller coaster of emotions that was Holy Week – the triumphal entry, the crucifixion, the resurrection – and had survived and were better off for it. They even got a 40-day intensive experience with Jesus after Easter where he reviewed everything they had learned and experienced, and opened their minds to understand Scripture even more. The disciples’ preparation was more thorough than many university educations are today.

But there they were standing on top of a hill staring at the space in the sky where Jesus had been a moment ago, but wasn’t anymore. I imagine that the thrill in their hearts was not unlike that feeling when your dad let go of the seat of your bike for the first time.

Jesus’ ascension into heaven was the coming-of-age moment for the Christian Church. From that moment on, there would be no more training wheels, no more floaties, no more hand holding. In a sense, the disciples were on their own, but Jesus didn’t leave them empty handed or alone.

What did Paul say to the Ephesians today?

But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. This is what it says: “When he ascended on high, he took many captives and gave gifts to his people.”[1]

By going away, Jesus was clearing the way for these gifts of grace to be given to his people. And I want you to pay attention to the recipients of Jesus’ gifts here:

But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.[2]

Jesus’ departure from this earth was not just meant to benefit the 12 Apostles. It was meant to be – and is – a blessing for every single Christian, i.e. for every one of you. Look at what Paul says is the purpose of all those pastors and teachers:

So Christ himself gave… pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.[3]

The reason God gave me to you was to equip you for works of service – not to do all the work for you, not to hold your hand every step of the way, but to equip you to do it, so that you could put to work the gifts that God has given each of you.

And the gifts that God has given you are going to be different because you’re different. These gifts have been given as Christ apportioned it, which means that they’re not all the same. One of you may be good at starting a spiritual conversation with a stranger. Someone else may be good at thinking about the people who often get forgotten. Someone else might be a good listener or a faithful encourager or a solid teacher or thoughtful planner. God gives different gifts to different people in different amounts.

But Jesus gives gifts to everyone, and everyone is equipped for works of service. Which means two things that are both immediately practical for you: 1) none of you is so insignificant that the body of Christ can get along fine without you. We probably don’t say it enough – I know I don’t say it enough – you, every one of you, are a vital, essential part of this body. We might be able to limp along without you, but we’d be limping, hurting, suffering without you.

And there may be some of you who are watching online right now, or listening at home, to whom that applies too. We are better with you than without you. And if I haven’t called you personally and told you that, it’s not because it’s not true, it’s because of my own failing and my own fear. So don’t let my failures or your own false sense of humility stand in the way of us being built up together into the body of Christ.

Jesus gives gifts to every member of the body, and that means that none of you is so insignificant that the body can get along fine without you. It also means that 2) none of you is so important that the body of Christ would fall apart without you.

It is so tempting to cast judgment. It is so tempting to keep receipts, i.e. to maintain a mental record of who’s been helping and who hasn’t and in what way. But it is impossible for you to know everyone else’s circumstances or acts of service. Not all service is the same and not all service is even visible. But all service has been created equal and no one servant is more vital than another.

Jesus didn’t leave this world and leave us gifts so that we could play the comparison game and either be discouraged when we see the gifts and talents of others, or swell with pride when we think about how great we – and the contributions we make to the body – are.

After all, what is God’s purpose for all these works of service?

So that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.[4]

The explicit purpose for each of our service is unity, maturity, and Christ. Christ is our goal. Christ is what we strive to be. And who is Jesus? He is the almighty, all-knowing, all-loving Son of God, who, as Paul says to the Ephesians, descended to the lower, earthly regions[5] – who gave up his status, who did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage,[6] but who took on the very nature of a servant[7] to serve you in your need.

Jesus was God’s greatest gift of grace to sinners like you and me. He took advantage of every opportunity to show love and compassion. He made use of every ability he possessed in all the small ways, but especially in the biggest. He showed humility in allowing himself to be manhandled and murdered by men who had manufactured false charges against him. He showed true and selfless love as he prayed for people who were in the act of harming him. He demonstrated the depth of his commitment to you by giving everything – even his life on a cross – to provide your greatest need, to wash away your sin, to forgive you, to remove your guilt and to build you into his church and make you a member of his body.

That’s not very good teambuilding philosophy. Usually you want the brightest and best on your team to give you the best chance at success. But God chose you – a sinner, a failure, someone who still stumbles and falls – and he made you integral to his family. He forgave your failures and faults and he gave you gifts of grace to empower you to make a meaningful difference as a member of his body, without whom the body of Jesus your Saviour does not function at full capacity.

The explicit purpose for each of our service is unity, maturity, and Christ. Christ is our goal. Christ is what we strive to be. Of course we can never reach that goal, but it shouldn’t stop us trying. And in the process of attaining to the whole measure of Jesus, we can achieve unity and maturity.

When we each understand our place and the pivotal role we play in the body of Christ, the whole body benefits. I have this twinge in my knee right now. My paranoia makes me wonder whether I’d blow out my ACL if I tried to play basketball right now. Then I’d be limping for a long time. The ACL is not one of the – pardon my French – “sexy” muscles in the body. It’s not a bicep or even a quad or a calf. It’s even relatively small. Point of fact, it’s not a muscle at all. It’s a ligament. But it is vitally important for the health of a moving body.

And so are you. And so are the gifts that God has given you. He has placed you here and now, and given you the gifts you have, so that you – in unity with every other ligament and tendon, bone and piece of cartilage we have here – can make the whole body better. Stronger – more able to stand up against the lies and empty philosophies that we hear from the world. More active – not waiting for people to come to us or ask for help, but taking the initiative and taking the Gospel out into the world we live in. More loving – toward each other as members of one family under Christ, but also to those who don’t know the love of Jesus at all yet.

That’s why we’re here – to be equipped for works of service so that the whole body of Christ might be built up.

Were you afraid of taking the training wheels off your bike or jumping into the deep end without your floaties on? Maybe. But how did you feel after you did it – after you learned how to ride your bike or swim without having to hold your mom or dad’s hand? Amazing! That’s what Jesus is doing for you even now from heaven. He has given each of you gifts to use for the benefit of his body, the church, and he’s training you and preparing you to use them for the good of his kingdom and the glory of his name.

God empower you to attain unity, maturity, and the whole measure of Christ. Amen.

[1] Ephesians 4:7,8

[2] Ephesians 4:7

[3] Ephesians 4:11-13

[4] Ephesians 4:12,13

[5] Ephesians 4:9

[6] Philippians 2:6

[7] Philippians 2:7

7Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 9This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. 10This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

19We love because he first loved us. 20Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. 21And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister. 

I have a music trivia question for you today: What do the Beatles and Taylor Swift have in common? They both have exactly 11 songs with the word “love” in its title. That’s a lot, right? Even for those songs that don’t have “Love” in the title, many more not only mention but also focus on the concept of love. Love is a very common subject for music.

11 songs with “Love” in its title. That’s a lot. But it doesn’t even hold a candle to the 20 times that that same word appears in the 8 verses we read in John’s fist letter earlier today. 20 times in 8 verses! John has a lot to say about love – what it is, what it looks like, what it does, where it comes from – how central and necessary it is for our faith and life as Christians.

Of course there’s a big difference between the kind of love that inspires love songs and the kind of love that we find in the Bible. Love songs are emotional. God’s love, though, is volitional, which means that it is a matter of choice. In love songs, love happens to you. In the Bible, you who and when and how much you love.

Love songs are ethereal and ephemeral, which means that the love they talk about is delicate and fragile and short-lived; the slightest change in the wind could scatter it to smithereens like dandelion seeds. God’s love, though, is indomitable and enduring – no outside force can corrupt or compromise or conquer it; it can and will survive anything.

Love songs are transactional and conditional. If your love isn’t returned, then either it turns into an unhealthy obsession or it dissolves into a memory. God’s love, though, is selfless and one-sided. He continues to love unlovable people even though/when his love goes unrequited.

My question for you is, do we love with love-song love, or do we love with God’s love?

I know a 3-year-old, who shall remain nameless, who, when he’s feeling upset with someone, will say, “I don’t love you.” In the case of this particular 3-year-old, I happen to know that his parents don’t play any Taylor Swift for him. So where does he get this highly emotional form of love from?

It’s born in him. It’s born in all of us. Selfishness is natural. Bitterness and resentment come to us as easily as breathing does. Maybe you’ve had conflict with people you love (or loved. Maybe it was something serious. Maybe it was something silly, like a well-intentioned but poorly-executed joke. Do you act like a 3-year-old and – if only internally – say something like, “I don’t love you anymore”?

If you do then this thing that had once been beautiful and precious is shattered and broken beyond repair – not only because of what that other person did, but because of how you reacted emotionally instead of selflessly and volitionally.

Sometimes we treat love like a Faberge Egg – a delicate, precious thing that is priceless in no small part due to its fragility. And there’s some truth to that. Words hurt. Actions scar. People sin against us and do serious damage not only to our relationship with them, but to our own psyche and the way that we think or feel about ourselves. A loving relationship is fragile and easily broken.

And when it is damaged, the temptation is to react with disbelief and anger and indignation. “We had a good thing going and you ruined it!” It’s so easy to let resentment spread like a cancer throughout our bodies - not only in our hearts but also in our minds and in our mouths, and our feet and our hands. It’s so tempting to seek retribution or give in to the Schadenfreude and shamefully rejoice in any and every bad thing that happens to them.

In other words, we hate them. We block them. We shut off communication with them. We close off our hearts to them. We smother whatever embers of love are left, and instead we breathe life into the bitterness that is waiting in the wings. We hold grudges. Maybe we even seek retribution; we speak ill of them; we poison other people’s perspectives of them.

When this emotional, ethereal, ephemeral version of love gets broken, it can get ugly and quickly.

But that’s never what love was meant to be.

Love is an Otterbox. Love is a fireproof safe. Love is one of those airbag vests that inflates when it senses a fall. But the thing inside the phone case, the fireproof safe – the thing the airbag is protecting – is not your fragile emotional state. It’s your conscious, deliberate goodwill toward that person.

Now, I get it. It’s hard to love other people. But have you ever put that shoe on the other foot? Have you stopped to think how hard it is for God to love you?

John points out a problem that was not unique to the Christians living 2,000 years ago. He says:

Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar.[1]

Imagine how disingenuous that looks to God. It’s like carving, “I love you,” into the side of his car with your key. You might think you’re making this grand gesture of your love to the Lord, but you’re destroying something else that he loves. In the same way, if you say that you love God, but you express hatred – in attitude or action – toward your neighbour, you’re destroying something else that he loves, e.g. your neighbour’s well-being, the relationship he wants you to have with each other.

You can’t pretend that by coming to church on Sunday, it doesn’t matter what you do – or don’t do – on every other day of the week. You can’t pretend that because you’re working on your spiritual life, your earthly life doesn’t matter. It’s all one! Love reveals itself, not by what it says but by what it does. If your neighbour feels no warmth or light from you, then it’s a sign that something is dead somewhere inside of you.

If it’s hard to love other people when they hurt us, imagine how hard it is for God to love you.

But that’s exactly what God does. He loves you. He loved you first. He showed you what true love looks like by putting it into action. He sent his Son for you, to be a ransom for you.

John uses an interesting word here. It’s only used twice in the entire Bible and the other time was just a few verses earlier. It’s a strange word, but it shares the same root as the word God uses for mercy.

You know what mercy is, don’t you? Mercy is what I would cry in desperation when my brother was beating the living snot out of me for being a living snot to him. Mercy is what the police officer gives you when he doesn’t write you a speeding ticket even though he caught you going 15km/hr over the speed limit. Mercy is not giving someone the punishment that they deserve for their behaviour.

And do you know how God accomplished that mercy for the first several millennia of the world? Substitutionary sacrifice. A lamb or a bull or a dove would symbolically take your place and symbolically suffer the punishment for your sins by paying for them with its life. It would be sacrificed, i.e. killed, offered on the altar to appease God’s justice. But those sacrifices were just symbols, band-aids, temporary stop-gap measures.

Jesus, on the other hand, was the real deal. There was nothing symbolic about his sacrifice. He was your substitute. He took your place on the cross and suffered the penalty for your sin, so that you would be cleansed of it.

That’s the love of God for you. That’s what real love looks like. It’s not emotional, ethereal or ephemeral. It’s volitional, indomitable and enduring. It was a conscious decision. It couldn’t be swayed or compromised or conquered by adversity, anger or apathy. It was strong enough to survive our sin and endure into eternity. It’s a love that is self-sacrificing, i.e. that is willing to suffer inconvenience and even pain to bring benefit and blessing to you.

This love wasn’t easy. It wasn’t cheap. It cost God a great deal, but he was willing to give it because that’s what love is and does.

And that’s why John starts this section the way he does:

Dear friends [re: Beloved], let us love one another, for love comes from God.[2]

Love for one another is not a demand God makes of you to earn his love for you. Love is the condition you live in. Beloved is your status in his eyes. Love gives you confidence for life in heaven and purpose for life on earth – because God loves you, love one another.

It’s hard, but it’s simple at the same time. And, in many cases, it’s something you’re doing already. It’s something I’ve seen in that unnamed 3-year-old. If godly love is the willingness to inconvenience yourself to bring benefit to someone else, then love among Christians is a child sharing his snack or his toys even though it means that he won’t be able to enjoy them himself.

Love among Christians is not only staying in a marriage that has long since progressed past its honeymoon period, but being committed to be kind and compassionate and caring to the person who has the closest access to your heart (and sometimes hurts you more than anyone else could).

Love among Christians is giving up your holidays or a job opportunity or the years you meant to spend in restful retirement so that you can take care of your aging parents or assist in raising your children’s children.

Love among Christians is cheerfully spending your hard-earned income on school and sports and social activities for your spouse or children (without complaining about what it’s cost you – the rounds of golf you don’t get to play, the hobbies you put on hold, etc…)

You ask John, Paul, Ringo and George – you ask Taylor – what love is, and they’ll tell you one thing. God will tell you another. He’ll point you to his Son as proof of how selfless, volitional, indomitable and enduring true love really is. God didn’t just tell us that he is love. He showed his love by what he did for us. And he calls you to do the same. If you love him – because you love him who loved you first – love one another. Amen.

[1] 1 John 4:20

[2] 1 John 4:7

18Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

19This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: 20If our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. 21Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God 22and receive from him anything we ask, because we keep his commands and do what pleases him. 23And this is his command: to believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as he commanded us. 24The one who keeps God’s commands lives in him, and he in them. And this is how we know that he lives in us: We know it by the Spirit he gave us.

Have you noticed how much blue and orange you see around town these days? Flags on cars. Jerseys on babies in grocery stories. I see some in here today. And I’m not going to fault you for it. Cheer for your team. But I do have a confession to make: I always dread wearing my Oilers gear for fear that someone is going to ask me a question about it.

“Did you see the game last night?” No. I didn’t.

“What do you think about the year Draisaitl has had?” I couldn’t even tell you his first name. Is it Neon?

And then you get the inevitable look: “You’re not really a true fan, are you? You’re one of those bandwagon fans. If you were a real fan, you would have been wearing that jersey when we were 5-12, not just now that they’re in the playoffs.”

Now, I’m not here to tell you how to be a hockey fan or what true fandom looks like. I bring this up because it’s easy to ask similar questions about our Christian faith and life. Are you just wearing Jesus’ jersey or are you a real fan? If you consider yourself a fan of his – a follower, disciple even – what have you done to prove it?

The Apostle John has a suggestion:

Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.[1]

In fact, what prompted this suggestion was a question he posed immediately before it:

If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?[2]

That’s a penetrating question, isn’t it? What do you typically think makes a person a Christian? They go to church. They read their Bible. They say their prayers. Maybe you do all 3, which, to be fair, is no small thing. Did you know that a study was done in 2021 that showed that only 23% of Canadians attended any kind of group religious activity – Christian or not, something like what we’re doing right now – at least monthly.[3] So, even if you only come to church once a month, you’re already more Christian than 77% of our country! Kudos to you. Golf claps and slaps on the back all around.

But John’s not buying it. Even for those who go to church every week, who read their Bible and pray every day – even for the top 23% - John would say that’s not enough. You’re not a “real Christian” unless you love with actions and in truth. And that’s a harder thought to think.

Do any of you have extra clothes in your closet? What about food in your pantry or so much food in your fridge that you can’t eat it all before it goes bad and you have to throw it away? How many of you have more than one vehicle at home and can afford to have at least some gas in each? Then you’re doing better than a solid portion of our society. Then you have material possessions, as John would say, but do you see your brother or sister in need?

We sit on the doorstep of a metropolis of over a million people, many of whom are worse off than we are. I can’t tell you how many phone calls I get every month asking for gas cards or food hampers. We have members in our own congregation who are victims of tragedy and are in tangible need of worldly, material assistance. John wants you to take a good hard look at yourself and consider whether you’re the kind of Christian who just wears the jersey or whether you’re the kind of Christian who walks the walk of faith.

Is there more that you could do with what you have? Could you be more shrewd with your resources to make them stretch further and help more?

Or think about it this way. Why are there so many unwanted children in this world who float through foster care – or worse, never live to see it? Why are there so many teenagers so lacking for a sense of belonging within or from their family and friends that they resort to radical shifts in identity or biology? Why are there people so lonely or made to feel so useless that they feel their best course of action is to seek medical assistance in dying?

Could it be that the love of Christians runs cold? That we are better at talking the talk than walking the walk? Is the problem that you are content to wear the jersey, but not put in the time or effort on a daily basis?

I don’t know about you, but when I read John’s words here, my heart is shot through with a whole quiver of arrows. When I take a good, hard, honest look at myself, my heart condemns me. For a lack of love. For insincere love begrudgingly given. For willfully turning a blind eye and hiding behind excuses.

John doesn’t make it easy to be a Christian, does he?

But then he does, actually.

John is so right to call us out on our hypocrisy and insincerity. He nails us to the wall with our sin and leaves us feeling about this big. But then he reaches down and picks us up with the only thing that matters:

This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: if our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.[4]

The way to know that we belong to the truth – the way to know that we have a real place in God’s family – is not to look at our resumes, not to stack up good days, not to fall back on our good deeds. The way to know that we belong to the truth – the way to set our hearts at rest in God’s presence – is to look away from ourselves and to the God who is greater than our hearts and knows everything.

He knows your sin, even better than you do. But he knows something else, too. He knows himself and his heart which is infinitely greater than yours.

We miss it a bit in our English translation but the very next word in John’s letter is one of the most special in all of Scripture: Ἀγαπητοί. Literally, it means “beloved,” or, “loved ones.” But its use in the Bible makes it even stronger than that. Ἀγαπη is this one-sided, unconditional love for someone else. Ἀγαπη is the kind of love that doesn’t wait for someone to be loveable before making the choice – the conscious, willful decision – to love them anyway. Ἀγαπη is the love that is best put on display in the cross of Jesus.

Here's a bit of a paradox – you have to love sincerely to be a “real” Christian, but it’s not your sincere love that makes you a Christian. Christ does. In love, Jesus named you his sister or his brother. In love, Jesus left heaven behind and claimed human flesh and blood to be your Saviour. Jesus’ love for you extended beyond words and speech. It wasn’t just lip service when he said he cares for you or promised to save you. He did something about it. He took action and showed true compassion.

He met people in their need, and he fed them, or he healed them, or he spoke to their troubled hearts words of consolation and peace. But above all, he died for them. He died for you. He looked at you with such love and compassion in his heart that he wasn’t content to wait for you to be worthy of him, as if you ever could. He took action and showed the sincerity and intensity of his love for you by dying for you to take all your sin away. He sacrificed his life on a cross to forgive all your sin. He rose from the grave to free you from guilt and shame.

That’s what real love looks like. We’ll never live up to it, but we don’t have to. Jesus did. And his life and his love are what God remembers even when we forget. His death and his resurrection are what God sees even when our hearts look with shame at the sins we commit. God remembers his Son. He answers the accusations of our hearts with the accomplished salvation that Jesus won for us on the cross.

And then he reminds us that we do belong to the truth, whether we deserve to or not. He reminds us that he lives in us by his Spirit who works in our hearts every time that we hear his word. And by that same Spirit, he even empowers us to do what John encourages us to do here: to love with actions and in truth.

Your record is not perfect. No one’s is. But you do love with actions and in truth. I’ve seen it. It’s not the reason for you to set your heart at rest before God, but it is cause for rejoicing because it is evidence that God is at work in you. Even if you don’t always remember, God does.

It’s like what Jesus said to his disciples in Matthew 25. To the people that Jesus calls righteous – to the Christians who do more than just wear his jersey – Jesus says,

“Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. for I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?”

The King will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”[5]

God is greater than your heart. He knows your sin. He knows your Saviour. He even knows the deeds of love you do in the Spirit without knowing it yourself. When your heart condemns you, look to him, believe in the name of his Son Jesus, and love one another. Amen.

[1] 1 John 3:18

[2] 1 John 3:17

[3] https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/11-627-m/11-627-m2021079-eng.htm

[4] 1 John 3:19,20

[5] Matthew 25:34ff

5This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 6If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. 7But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

8If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us.

1My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. 2He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world. 

Have you heard of the movie IF? It’s a kids’ movie. It’s an acronym for Imaginary Friend. I haven’t seen it myself, just trailers. But I think the concept and even just the title is clever. The word “if” is what makes imagination possible. It allows you to dream up all kinds of crazy and creative scenarios. We make games out of it, e.g. “If you were stranded on a desert island…” “If you won the lottery…” If can be fun.

But if can activate your imagination to do something else too. John uses that word 6 times in the portion of his first letter that we read earlier today. And while each one of those ifs did activate our imagination, the scenarios they posed were far from hypothetical; they were far too real. While each one of those ifs did prompt us to picture something in our minds, the pictures they painted were not all wildest dream scenarios; some of them contained nightmare fuel.

I want to walk through those ifs with you today. They come in three pairs:  

If we claim to have fellowship with God and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.[1]

That’s the first pair. Here’s the second:

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.[2]

And finally, we read:

If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us… But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father – Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins.[3]

Let’s start with the first part of the first pair – claiming to have fellowship with God but walking in darkness. You know what that looks like, don’t you? When somebody pretends to be one thing in public, but in private he acts completely differently. What do you typically call that kind of person? A hypocrite! A fraud. A phony. A liar. A pretender.

But this isn’t just some somebody, is it? This is we. This is you. It’s me. We’re not talking about anybody else, we’re talking about ourselves. And, as I said before, this if isn’t some hypothetical; it’s real life.

When do you claim to have fellowship with God, yet walk in the darkness? Well, you’re all here. It certainly looks like you have fellowship with God. But would a stranger, or even your friends, immediately recognize you as a Christian by the way you talk or act? Do you watch your language around certain people, but less loose with the profanities and vulgarities with your close friends? If we had St. Peter bumper stickers, would you put one on the back of your car, or would you be too afraid of the poor impression people would have of your church based on the way that you drive?  

And those are just the little things, the petty things. What other things do you do under the cover in darkness that would make your mother blush or your heavenly Father sigh in disappointment? What about the unloving way you treat your family behind closed doors? The uncharitable comments you make about people who aren’t in the room? The promises you break to do or be something good at the first chance you get of scratching that old itch for the bottle or the digital brothel.

If we claim to have fellowship with God and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.[4]

We’re hypocrites, frauds, pretenders – every one of us. This is not some imaginary scenario. This is real life. We’re walking in darkness. We’re hiding from the light of God. We’re like cockroaches, skittering from one dark corner to the next trying to escape his light but everywhere we go, it exposes us.

There are times when a caring family member or friend calls us out on our hypocrisy. And sometimes, we’re thankful for it. Sometimes that’s all it takes to turn us around. And that’s great… when it works. But it doesn’t always work, because we’re not always willing to listen to criticism no matter how compassionate and constructive it may be.

Sometimes we claim to be without sin. We downplay what we do, as if other people doing the same thing somehow makes it OK for us to do it too. We deny any kind of wrongdoing, and turn it on the other person, e.g. “Who are you to judge me? You don’t know me.” We manufacture and then hide behind our made-up excuses, e.g. “If you only knew what that other person did or what I’m going through, then you wouldn’t be so harsh.”

But what does John say?

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.[5]

If you take a comprehensive look at your life and you don’t feel even the slightest bit of guilt, then you’re lying to yourself. You’re delusional. The truth is not in you.

Again, sometimes we’re blessed with people in our lives to call us on our lies and to open our eyes to see the truth – to see the way that we’ve hurt other people, that we’re hurting our own souls. And if you’re privileged to have a friend like that, it’s possible for you to confess your sins and start the road to recovery. But that doesn’t always work either, because sometimes our hearts are so stubborn and so proud that no amount of talking would ever convince us that what we did was wrong to begin with. That’s why John goes on:

If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us.[6]

I could argue with my friends and family until I’m blue in the face. They’re just people and theirs are just opinions. They don’t get to decide what’s right or wrong for me.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? God is the one who gets to decide what’s right and what’s wrong for everyone. And if I defend my sinful decisions even to the degree that I disagree with God, then I’m in trouble. And we’re so good at that. We ask the same questions of ourselves that the devil asked in the Garden of Eden, “Did God really say…?”

Is it really so bad to let your mind wander when you see an attractive person? Is homosexuality, transsexuality, pansexuality so sinful and wrong? I have friends in the community. They’re not hurting anybody. They’re nicer, kinder than some Christians I know. God isn’t going to audit my taxes, is he? He doesn’t mind if I fudge a few numbers to get a better return. After all, the government does the same thing to me every time I stop at the pump or pick up groceries. I’m just playing their game.

We are so skilled at imagining that we are so innocent. But when God shines his light on our hearts, we’re more like cockroaches running to find the next dark corner to hide in. And each pair of ifs that John writes here just shows us how bad our hearts can get. Each one is worse than the next.

But the beautiful thing about John’s imagination-activating scenarios is that while the light does show the downward spiral of our sin, it also shines on the exponential expansion of God’s grace.

What was the solution to the first problem, i.e. claiming to have fellowship with God but walking in the darkness? It’d be tempting to say that the solution is to walk in the light! But that’s not technically a solution, is it? It’s a reform. It’s a way to do something better in the future. But it doesn’t undo the deeds of darkness you’ve done in the past.

The solution to our sin is not reform. The solution is the blood of Jesus that purifies us from all sin.

What was the solution to the second problem, i.e. claiming to be without sin? It’d be tempting to say that the solution would be to confess your sin – to stop deceiving yourself and be honest for once. But, again, that’s not the solution; it’s the reform. You should confess your sin – to yourself and to God – but that’s not going to make up for the sins you’re confessing.

The solution is the faithfulness and forgiveness of God, who promises to purify us from all unrighteousness.

What was the solution to the final problem, i.e. claiming to have not sinned? This time there’s not even a temptation to resolve that ourselves. The solution can only come from Jesus. John calls him our advocate – our defense attorney, if you will. And I can tell you the legal strategy he’ll use in God’s court of law. He will certainly not try to convince the Judge that you are innocent. That would never work, because you’re not innocent. But you have been forgiven. Your own defense attorney has already paid the price for your sin. He gave his life as the sacrifice of atonement for your sins and the sins of the whole world.

No matter where you fall on the spectrum – no matter what lies you’ve deceived yourself into believing or deeds of darkness you have tried your hardest to cover up because you know how bad they are – no matter what your sin is, the solution is Jesus, i.e. the perfect life he lived in your place, the innocent death he died on your behalf, the promise of purification and forgiveness and atonement through his blood. It’s all yours through him.

And this is no dream. Jesus is not your imaginary friend. He is your real Redeemer risen from the dead to give you life – both forever in heaven and here on earth until you get there.

So walk in the light. Stop slinking into dark corners to do dark things. But when you invariably do, confess your sin. Don’t deceive yourself or make God out to be a liar. Be honest and humble, but above all, believe – put your trust and confidence in Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins and for the strength to live in the light. He is light. Live in him. Amen.

[1] 1 John 1:6,7

[2] 1 John 1:8,9

[3] 1 John 1:10, 2:1,2

[4] 1 John 1:6

[5] 1 John 1:8

[6] 1 John 1:10

1That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. 2The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. 3We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. 4We write this to make our joy complete. 

What gives you joy? It’s a little bit easier to ask that question a week after a major celebration. When I think of joy, I think about the 96 people who were gathered in this room 7 days ago. I think about the smell of the lilies that still lingers here. I think about the guitars and the violins and piano. I think about the voices and the songs they sang. I think about the window that was painted and the banner and the artwork that was hung. I think about the food and the fellowship we were able to enjoy.

It's easy to think about joy and what causes it a week after a major celebration. But did you catch certain notes of not-so-joyful things in our worship last week or this? I think about the Gospel Reading in both cases.

Last week’s Gospel – the one with the joyous discover of an empty tomb and an angel announcing Jesus’ resurrection – ended like this:

Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.[1]

That doesn’t really fit Easter triumph, Easter joy.

Then there’s this week’s Gospel, which started with the disciples cowering in fear behind locked doors. Even after the women finally fessed up to what they saw at the graveside, even after 10 of the remaining 11 disciples swore to the fact that they had seen the risen Jesus alive, there was still doubt and fear. Thomas still didn’t believe, and you have to imagine that he wasn’t the only one.

In fact, we know that Thomas wasn’t the only doubter. There were some confirmed deniers of Jesus’ resurrection. The Jewish leaders come to mind, of course. They paid off the Roman soldiers to spread the lie that a group of fishermen overpowered professional killers and stole Jesus’ body. But they weren’t the only ones.

There was also a man by the name of Cerinthus. If you’ve never heard the name, I wouldn’t blame you. It never appears in Scripture. But we know from history that he was a man who was styling himself as a Christian but who denied so many of the things that are central to the Christian faith, like the fact that Jesus is God, or that Jesus really rose from the dead, or that the Apostles were telling the truth.

I only mention Cerinthus because his false doctrine was the specific trigger for John to write his first letter, excerpts of which we’ll read every week for the rest of the season of Easter. The things that you heard today from the first 4 verses of first chapter of John’s first letter are a direct response to Cerinthus and his false doctrine, which, at first, may feel like this weird niche of church history that you don’t really need to know, but it is remarkable how modern Cerinthus’ false doctrine is.

Last week I got a notification from Facebook. It originated from the church account. One of our Easter posts was generating engagement – people were not only responding to it, they were commenting on it – which is usually a good thing, but not this time. This time it was from a man making the same claims that Cerinthus did so many years ago. He said sarcastic things like, “Come, join our cult.” He posed memes of simple-minded Christians still waiting 2,000 years to return.

It wasn’t very pleasant. I deleted them almost immediately. It threatened to sour the joy of Easter that I was so looking forward to celebrate – not only for me but for anyone else who happened to read them too. But it was so real and it was a good reminder that these footnotes of ancient history still rear their ugly heads so many years later.

The Apostle John wrote his first 2 letters in direct response to that kind of ridicule and denial. And do you know what his response was? No one can rob you of the joy that is ours through the fellowship we have with God and with each other.

John starts his first letter by talking about

that which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched.[2]

It’s a little bit cryptic. It makes you wonder what he’s talking about, but thankfully, he doesn’t leave us hanging for very long. He says,

“This we proclaim concerning the Word of life.”[3]

If that’s still a little confusing, maybe it’s helpful to compare what John writes here to how he starts his Gospel:

“In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning…. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”[4]

John is talking about Jesus. “The Word” is a special title the Bible uses to describe Jesus. And in these first four verses, John tells us some very important things about Jesus. First he tells us that Jesus was there from the beginning. In other words, he is confirming for us what people like Cerinthus (and trolls online) deny – that Jesus is the eternal Son of God. In fact, John doubles down on this point in the next verse. He says,

“The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us.”[5]

Long before Mary ever gave birth to Jesus, he existed as the eternal Son of God. It’s quite possible that that seems obvious to you. Maybe you were blessed to have grown up in a Christian household where Jesus’ divinity is a given, but that’s not a universally accepted truth – not then, not now. But it is important. It means that Jesus wasn’t just some guy. He wasn’t a martyr for a cause. He wasn’t a mentor for us to mold our lives after. He wasn’t a man who reached a certain level in the game of life and earned a special reward or recognition for his achievements.

Jesus was and is the Son of God from all eternity. He helped to form and fashion this world when it was created. He was the subject of the promise of salvation that God gave to Adam and Eve when they fell into sin. He was the message and oftentimes the messenger of grace and peace and comfort and forgiveness to generations of believers, until he finally entered into this world. Or, as John puts it here:

“The life appeared… the eternal life, which was with the Father… has appeared to us.”[6]

This is big news! The almighty, supreme Being who presides over the whole universe, who is infinitely greater and better than us in every imaginable way didn’t remain aloof from us. He didn’t turn his back from us when we sinned and disappointed him. He turned his face toward us. He made his love known to us. He spoke a word of forgiveness, and that Word was God made flesh, i.e. the man Christ Jesus. Jesus Christ is literally the incarnation of God’s love for you.

And that’s no fairy tale! It’s not wishful thinking or a delusional fantasy. It’s a verifiable fact. How many times does John confirm it here?

“…which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched…”[7]

The eternal Son of God really did become a real-life, in the flesh human being. Shepherds and wise men visited him at his birth. Rabbis marveled at his spiritual maturity as a young man. Countless people heard his sermons and benefited from his miracles. A city crowded with pilgrims witnessed his death.

But, if you’re like me, that’s not what you’re thinking of when you hear John say,

“…which our hands have touched.”[8]

You’re thinking of Thomas, aren’t you? Putting his fingers in the holes in Jesus’ hands. Putting his hand in the hole in Jesus’ side. Jesus’ resurrection was no fairy tale either. The eternal Son of God, who lived a human life and died a human death, conquered death and rose from the grave. The dead man lived and there were witnesses to it. More than 500 people heard, saw, looked at, and touched the risen Jesus.

Men like Cerinthus – and modern-day trolls and cyber bullies – may deny it, but Jesus really is “the Word of life.” He lives! He is the expression of God’s love for you, and he lives for you. He died on the cross to forgive your sins and he rose to new life to give you eternal life with him forever in heaven. No one can rob you of that joy. Nothing can stand in the way of the fellowship that you have with God, or with each other, because of what the Word of life did for us all.

I asked you earlier what gives you joy. This is what gave John joy – proclaiming the Word of life, writing his Gospel so that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name,[9] celebrating the fellowship that we have with God and one another forever through the life, death and resurrection of the Word made flesh for us.

I pray this brings you joy too. When life has you down or doubting, listen to the Word of life; he tells you all about God’s love for you. When the devil or your own conscience condemn you, look at the Word of life; he gave his life for you on the cross. When you are low on hope or joy, feel the Word of life on your forehead or in your hands and on your lips; he gave his body and poured out his blood to forgive you all your sins, and he washed you with water and the Word to unite you to himself forever through his resurrection from the dead.

Rejoice in the fellowship we share with God and one another through his Word of life. Amen.  

[1] Mark 16:8

[2] 1 John 1:1

[3] 1 John 1:1

[4] John 1:1,2,14

[5] 1 John 1:2

[6] 1 John 1:2

[7] 1 John 1:1

[8] 1 John 1:1

[9] John 20:31

26 As the soldiers led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. 27 A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. 28 Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. 29 For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the childless women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ 30 Then “‘they will say to the mountains, “Fall on us!” and to the hills, “Cover us!”’

31 For if people do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

32 Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed. 33 When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. 34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

Did you know that only 50% of Canadians would describe themselves as Christian? That’s down from 77% in 2001. The trajectory for Christianity in our country is kind of scary. But the perception of our religion may be even worse. In a recent poll, “Evangelical Christianity” was the only religion seen as being more damaging than beneficial by every other religious group in Canada. In other words, our non-Christian neighbours are more likely to describe us as misogynistic, transphobic, and homophobic than generous, friendly, and caring.

And these are just the statistics. What about the stories? A middle schooler is shamed by his teacher in front of his class for saying he believes in the biblical definition of sex and gender. A boyfriend loses his girlfriend or fiancée because of the high value he places in his faith. A store owner loses business because she doesn’t participate in very specific social causes. You’ve heard the stories. You may have one or two of your own. And we haven’t even mentioned the funny looks, barbed comments, and cold shoulders we get from unbelievers all the time. We poor Christians!

Should we look for pity? We won’t get it from the world. Many people are happy to see that Christianity’s cultural influence is fading. “Poor Christians!” Is that what we should say?

Is that what Jesus would say?

Jesus sure makes for a sympathetic figure on his way out to Golgotha. Actually, pathetic might be the better word. His back is shredded from scourging. His face must be bruised purple from the beatings he received. Blood drips down from the thorns driven into his scalp. After a night without sleep, he’s exhausted. His body crumbles under the weight of his cross, so the soldiers conscript someone from the crowd to carry it for him.

No wonder the women wept and wailed! Whether this group of people following Jesus were his disciples or simply citizens of Jerusalem drawn to the spectacle of that morning’s events, no one would have been able to help but burst into tears at the sight of a human being treated so brutally.

But what does Jesus say? “Don’t cry for me! No sympathy for me, please. Mourn for yourselves and your children!” In fact, just five days earlier, Jesus himself had wept for them. Because the people of Jerusalem had rejected the Messiah, they would experience God’s judgment. The time was coming when mothers would rather be childless than watch their children suffer. People would prefer to be crushed under the weight of a mountain than be starved, tortured, or captured by their enemies. And history records the horrific things that happened to mothers and children when the Roman army destroyed Jerusalem a generation later, things too terrible for me even to mention.

Sure, Jesus was innocent and the victim of injustice. He was facing a cruel death on a cross that he didn’t deserve. But as pathetic as his situation was, theirs was more pitiable, because they would suffer too, and, in general, the trajectory for the majority of the people of Jerusalem was an eternity of suffering in hell for their rejection of him. If the sinless one would have to suffer, imagine the suffering that sinners deserve? If the Son of God was put on trial and wrongfully condemned, imagine the judgment in the court of public opinion that awaits all of his followers.

When we hear about the decline of Christianity in this country, when we read about society moving away from godly values, or when we feel the sting of rejection or mockery ourselves, our natural reaction is to think of ourselves as victims in need of sympathy. But that reveals a problem of perspective. If we look at the big picture, what we experience now is nothing like what Christians around the world suffer, and nothing like what Christians throughout the ages have endured. The comfort and societal approval we Christians have enjoyed for generations are not the norm. More importantly, the woe-is-me mentality is sinfully self-centered. It leads us to complain, to lash out, to circle the wagons to try to keep the world at bay, to look to flawed human leaders and systems to recover what we think we’ve lost, or maybe even simply to give up hope altogether.

But here’s the thing: when did God ever tell us to play the victim? Self-pity is the opposite of what we see in Jesus. His pity is not for himself but for the women—and their children and husbands and all their countrymen who would suffer too. And his pity doesn’t end there. Follow his stumbling footsteps to the crest of that hill and watch him be lifted up like a criminal. What are his first words? “Father, forgive them.” Forgive whom? His disciples? Those poor women? No, the soldiers driving nails through his hands and feet!

Jesus’ words reveal a heart that is focused not on self but on others. He was thinking about the families of Israel. He was thinking about the soldiers who had no idea they were crucifying the Son of God. He was thinking about you and me. If Jesus had pitied himself, he easily could have escaped this fate. But he was pitying us wretched sinners who were facing an eternal destruction far worse than anything the Romans could dole out. We deserved to face God’s wrath but Jesus had pity on us.

Relish that for a minute. Jesus’ heart went out to you. But he didn’t just weep for you. He took God’s punishment for you. He died for you. He shed his blood to cover you, to hide you from the destruction to come. Through pain and fatigue and insult, you were on his mind.

To say that Jesus didn’t want sympathy for himself isn’t to say that he didn’t deserve it, i.e. that his suffering wasn’t so bad. That should be obvious. There’s a reason those women were moved to tears at the simple sight of him.

And to say that Jesus doesn’t want us to look for sympathy isn’t to say that he doesn’t have pity on us. Nothing could be further from the truth. Jesus knows your pain. He’s felt it. He can sympathize with you in your weakness. His heart still goes out to you when you suffer, including and especially when you suffer for his name.

But he doesn’t want us to wallow in self-pity. He wants us to look past ourselves and look to him. He wants us to let him help us carry our crosses as we follow him, and find strength in his Word and sacraments. He wants us to look past ourselves and look to him for help and healing.

But he also wants us to look past ourselves and have pity on those around us. We have brothers and sisters in the faith who are struggling with pain and temptation. We have fellow followers of Jesus who are feeling the attacks of the anti-Christian forces of this world. Our Savior would have us pray for them, reach out to them, and remind them of his love and promises.

And, as strange as it sounds, Jesus also would have us direct our sympathy even toward our enemies. There is a destruction coming that this world cannot fathom. And the people of this world, even the ones who make our lives harder as Christians, don’t know it’s coming! Many of those who put God on trial are like the soldiers crucifying Jesus: They have no idea what they’re doing. They think they’re fighting against outdated values or old-fashioned fairy tales—fighting for the rights of humans to live free. They don’t realize they’re fighting against the Son of God, and they have no idea how badly that will end for them.

What if we thought of these people not as our enemies, or obstacles for us to overcome, but as fellow sinners who have been so deceived by Satan that they are doing his bidding without realizing it? We can have pity on them, warn them, pray for them, and tell them about God’s forgiveness, just like Jesus did. We can point them to the Savior who has compassion on them.

In other words, let’s save the sympathy for others.

“Poor Christians!” Is that what we should say? What would Jesus say? We know the answer because he told us in a sermon on a different mountain three years earlier: “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10). Blessed we are—happy—to suffer with Jesus. When the world treats us like it treated him, we’re reminded that the Father sees us like he sees his Son: righteous and royal. Pity? Why? We have the kingdom! Thanks be to God! Amen.

33 Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

34 “Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?”

35 “Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me. What is it you have done?”

36 Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.”

37 “You are a king, then!” said Pilate.

Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

38 “What is truth?” retorted Pilate. With this he went out again to the Jews gathered there and said, “I find no basis for a charge against him. 39 But it is your custom for me to release to you one prisoner at the time of the Passover. Do you want me to release ‘the king of the Jews’?”

40 They shouted back, “No, not him! Give us Barabbas!” Now Barabbas had taken part in an uprising.

What is truth?

This question has rung throughout human history. What is truth? We know that the truth is important. A mom asks her little boy with chocolate smudges on his cheeks, “Did you sneak a cookie?” When he shakes his head and quietly says, “No,” she says, “Just tell the truth.” Truth is important in all our human relationships; in fact, you can’t have a close relationship if you don’t tell the truth. Truth matters in every aspect of life from our work to the rules of the games we play.

Truth is especially important in the courtroom. Witnesses must swear that they will tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Jurors take an oath to “well and truly try the case and render a true verdict.”

It doesn’t surprise us, then, that as the Son of God stands on trial before a Roman governor, the subject of truth comes up.

Now, as much as history drags him, Pilate didn’t become governor of Judea for nothing. He may have been spineless on this occasion, but Pilate was a smart man. He knew history. He knew that since the time Rome had taken control of Judea, there had been several self-proclaimed kings and saviors who led multiple uprisings and rebellions against the Romans he represented.

Pilate also would have kept himself informed about current events. He would have heard the stories of Jesus’ powerful preaching and miraculous signs and wonders. He would have been aware of the following that Jesus was gathering. He certainly would have had on his radar reports of a man who had ridden into town five days earlier to the shouts of: “Hosanna, save us now, Son of David!”

If Pilate was worth his salt, he would have been worried. This was the Passover. Thousands of people were crammed into Jerusalem to celebrate how God had delivered his people from a foreign oppressor. To Pilate, the Passover celebration must have felt like a powder keg waiting to explode.

So when the Jewish leaders drag Jesus to Pilate’s palace early Friday morning, the governor wants to get to the bottom of it.

“Are you the king of the Jews?” Pilate wants to know whether Jesus is a threat. A simple yes or no will do. But Jesus would like to have a different conversation. “Is that your own idea, . . . or did others talk to you about me?” Jesus would probably like to talk about what it means for him to be the King of the Jews—without the baggage of whatever Pilate had heard. But Pilate wants to get to the facts of the case. “Am I a Jew? . . . Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me. What is it you have done?” Jesus, you are the one standing in front of me. I’ll ask the questions here! Jesus replies, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” Pilate seems intrigued. “You are a king, then!” Now we’re getting somewhere! Jesus answers, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me” You care about truth? So do I. That’s why I’m here in this world. Then Pilate asks his famous question: “What is truth?”

Considering Pilate’s background, it’s unlikely he was asking some abstract philosophical question about the nature of truth. Pilate was a military man, a practical guy who had negotiated his way up the ranks of the political system and had a job to do. He knew how truth could be manipulated and used to one’s own advantage. (We’ve all experienced this over the last several years, haven’t we?) Pilate looks at Jesus and says, “What is truth?” Your own people—your own religious leaders—are saying one thing, and you are saying another. Whom am I supposed to believe? “What is truth?”

During Lent, especially during Holy Week, we think a lot about the physical suffering that Jesus endured—the beating, the scourging, the crown of thorns, and the cross. We may not consider as much his emotional pain--the sadness he felt. Jesus came to testify to the truth. No one understood better how fallen the people of this world were and how much God loved them. There is only one way to God, one way to live—through Jesus. And Jesus wanted that for everyone. He wanted the crowds in Galilee to see that he brought more than earthly bread. He wanted the woman at the well in Samaria to know that he came to bring living water. He even wanted Pilate to see who he really was. Jesus came to testify to the truth.

Have you ever wanted people to believe something because you knew that if they did, it would change their lives? Maybe you know some people with addictions who are destroying their lives. Or others who face all kinds of problems and refuse to admit that some of them are self-inflicted. You only want these people to see the truth! Now multiply that feeling by a million. Jesus knew he had what Pilate needed—what the world needed —more than anything. Pilate, if only you were interested in the truth. Not the kind of truth that is distorted by humans in their selfish power plays but truth from God the Father, truth that reveals his heart of love for you!

But Pilate could respond with only a feeble question: “What is truth?” Whatever his intent, whatever his tone, it seemed to end the conversation. If Jesus answered Pilate, we don’t hear about it. Maybe he just looked at Pilate with eyes that seemed to recede into eternity and with love that reached into the depths of his heart. What is truth? He’s standing right in front of you! “I am the truth!”

Truth is not a fact, a formula, or a theory but a person. The Word made flesh. God made man. The final word from God and the source of salvation.

We live in confusing times. Facts are spun to get us to buy a product, support a cause, or vote for a candidate. Maybe we’ve trusted in people who presented themselves as someone other than who they really are, and we wonder, “What is truth?” Even the experts—scientists, doctors, economists, judges—often disagree about the best path forward. What is truth? We’ve asked this question in so many different areas of our lives that, sadly, sometimes it’s even affected our faith: How can I know this is true? With everything else being so uncertain, how can I be sure of Jesus?

In this life, there are many things we can’t know for sure. But we can know this: Jesus was born into this world to testify to the truth—to be the truth—to reveal that the very heart of God is love. How can you be sure? Watch as Jesus willingly goes to the cross to pay for your sins so that you can be sure there is no more penalty. Walk to the tomb on Easter morning to see Jesus declared the King of kings—to see life triumph over death. Jesus wanted Pilate to see. He wanted Peter and all the others to see. And he wants you to see. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life—for you.

And Jesus still longs for others to know him too. Perhaps he’ll give you opportunities to have a conversation like the one he had with Pilate. When the people of the world put you on trial—when they ask who you are and want to know what you say about the truth—you can love them enough to speak to them like Jesus. Is that what you believe or something you’ve heard? What do you know about Jesus and his kingdom? In times like these, when truth seems to be whatever anyone wants it to be, the otherworldly truth to which Jesus testifies may be just the thing people are looking for. We know it’s the thing they need.

What is truth? It is Jesus! Amen.