Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts

Sunday, May 8, 2011

How Big is Your God?

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, earlier today.]

Luke 24:13-35
On this third Sunday of Easter, our Gospel lesson from Luke confronts us with a mystery about two of Jesus’ disciples. And that mystery, ultimately, leads us to an important question about ourselves.

There is no mystery about what the two disciples we meet in the lesson are doing as our passage starts. We can  understand their sense of sorrow and why, because, just like you and me, they had never seen a dead and buried person rise to life again, they left Jerusalem, certain that the report of Jesus’ resurrection couldn’t be true. But there is something about the entire incident recount in our lesson that baffles us.

As Luke tells it, the two disciples walked with a stranger they’d met on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus for some distance as He explained to them that the events of the previous Thursday and Friday, when Jesus had been arrested, tried, condemned, and killed, didn’t add up to the tragedy or dead end they surmised them to be. Everything had happened precisely as that part of the Bible we call the Old Testament had said it would. “Was it not necessary,” the stranger asked them as their hearts pounded within them, “that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into His glory?”

Encouraged by the stranger’s words of clarity and hope, they begged him to eat and converse with them once they reached the village. But through all this, they had no idea who this stranger was.

It was only when the stranger “took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them” that they finally recognized Him to be Jesus. Then, Jesus disappeared.

In spite of their earlier fears of traveling at night in open country where thugs and wild animals might lurk, the two disciples hurried back to Jerusalem to tell the others that they too had seen the risen Jesus.

Still, we wonder: Why hadn’t they immediately recognized Jesus?

Our lesson says that “their eyes were kept from recognizing” Jesus. Had Jesus, God-incarnate, been playing hide and seek with these grieving disciples only to finally play “gotcha” by revealing Himself in a way they readily recognized?

No, God doesn’t play games.

But He does allow people to live with the hardened hearts and thickened skulls with which they choose to live their lives.

Those of you who have read the book of Exodus know exactly why the disciples’ eyes couldn’t recognize the risen Jesus. Exodus tells us that about 1500 years before Jesus was born, God’s chosen people, the Israelites (or Hebrews), were enslaved in Egypt.

God told Moses that He was going to send Moses, along with Moses’ brother Aaron, to demand that Pharaoh, king and deity of Egypt, let God’s people go.

But Pharaoh wasn’t about to let Hebrew slaves tell him what to do.

Nor was he going to let Yahweh, the God of these slaves who they claimed as the one and only God of the universe, call the shots.

As you remember, God performed a total of ten plagues through Moses, all of them designed to convince Pharaoh to relent, repent, and let God’s people go. But Pharaoh dug in.

After the first five plagues, Exodus tells us things like: “…Pharaoh…hardened his heart”; and “the heart of Pharaoh was hardened.” Then, after the sixth plague, the plague of boils, a shift comes in the Bible’s narrative of these events.

Take a look at Exodus, chapter 9, verse 12, on page 36 of our pew Bibles. No longer is Pharaoh hardening his own heart to God’s call to repentance. God is doing it for him. There we’re told:
But the Lord hardened the heart of Pharoah; and he [that is, Pharaoh] did not heed them [that is, Moses and Aaron], just as the Lord had spoken to Moses. (NKJV)
God had given Pharaoh repeated opportunities to conform to the will of God. Pharaoh had dug in his heels. Finally, God said, “Have it your way, Pharaoh. I will now escalate the level of the plagues and prevent you from changing your mind. I will let you live with the consequence of the path you have already chosen. We have hit a point of no return.”

The disciples on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus had chosen the path of disbelief when they set out on that first Easter Sunday.

In spite of the reports of Jesus’ resurrection, they were convinced that Jesus was as dead that day as He had been on Friday and Saturday.

But thank God—for them and for we who gain strength of faith from their story, they hadn’t yet reached “the point of no return.” They remained open enough to God to be able to see the risen Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

The question remains, though: What took them so long to recognize Jesus? 

The answer is simple: Their God wasn’t big enough.

In spite of all the signs and promises made about the Messiah in the Old Testament and the promises and signs which Jesus Himself gave during His earthly ministry, it was still beyond the scope of their imaginations to conceive...
  • that Jesus could rise from the dead, 
  • that God could wring life from death, 
  • that the perennial enemies of humankind—our own sin, death, and pointless living—could possibly have been defeated by a Savior Who had, just days before, been crucified at the garbage dump just beyond Jerusalem’s walls. 
They couldn’t believe that God was that good, that gracious, that loving, that powerful, that big.

So, having solved the mystery of the disciples’ failure to recognize Jesus for so long, here’s the uncomfortable question all of us must answer: How big is the God we meet in Jesus Christ for each of us?

Is the God Who bore all your sins and all the death and futility we confront on this side of the grave big enough to be entrusted with your biggest problems, your sternest challenges, your most vexing worries?

Or do you want to keep dealing with these issues on your own?

Is the God Who defeated your sin on the cross to be trusted when He promises you victory over the temptations and sins you can’t beat on your own?

Or will you insist on trying to go it alone in facing sin?

Or will you try to fake yourself out, telling yourself...
  • that it’s not too bad to put your family or your work above God; 
  • that using God’s Name for purposes other than prayer, praise, or thanksgiving is a minor matter; 
  • that ignoring God’s Word in Scripture or the fellowship of the Church is OK because you’re so busy; that dehumanizing and demonizing others through mistreatment or unkindness isn’t really, as Jesus teaches, really murder; 
  • that stealing the gift of sexual intimacy God meant to be opened only by husbands and wives in marriage is acceptable today; 
  • that little thieveries from others are justified because “everybody does it’; 
  • that gossiping about others who strike you as too weird for words is entirely understandable; 
  • that being obsessed with having what others have is no big deal?
In short, will you lie to yourself in saying that the Ten Commandments, the moral law of God for all time, have been rescinded by advanced human enlightenment? Or will you accept the commandments as God's clear statement of His will for your life, allow them to show you your need of a Savior, and trust in Christ to send the Holy Spirit to point your life in God's direction even as you live in the certainty of the grace and favor God bears for those who repent of sin and believe in Him?

Is the God we meet in Jesus Christ a first-century version of Pee Wee Herman, weak and compliant to our wills and whims?

Or is He the God and King of the universe...
How big is your God?

He gave His life for you. Is He big enough for you to give your life to Him in return?

Dare to surrender this moment to God.

Tell God, “My faith in You is puny. But right now, at this moment, I ask You to...
  • handle my problems at work or at home; 
  • conquer my sins and strengthen me to beat temptation; 
  • overcome my worries and my grief. 
Conquer this moment for me, please, Lord. Help me to entrust this moment to You, God.”

If you will give your life, moment by moment, to the big God made known to all the world in Jesus Christ, it will, by His grace and power, add up to an eternity with God!

A man in northwest Ohio told me that shortly after his wife died, “I fell on the floor and wept and asked the Lord just to get me through that night.” God did that. That man said he kept praying that prayer each night. He learned over time that the God we meet in Jesus is big enough to comfort us, to give us hope, until our hope encompasses the certainty that, like the Savior in Whom we believe, we will one day rise again.

Let the God of Easter reach out and transform your life, moment by moment.

Leo was a member of the congregation in Michigan where I did my internship. Leo never knew anything about the Lord before he met his wife, Betty. She was a Lutheran. He started attending worship with Betty and, as happened to me years later when I went to worship with Ann, he got hooked. Jesus Christ grabbed hold of Leo and Leo didn't want Christ to ever let go!

Leo came to believe in Jesus and his life was transformed.

He had purpose and hope.

He became a better man.

Though he never went to college, he became the head of a company’s engineering department.

Because of Christ, it seemed to me that Leo’s life was always firing on all cylinders.

He was a terrific husband and father; a talented carpenter and quilter; a great photographer and cook.

And Leo understood the power of surrendering to the big God we know in Christ through incremental, baby steps.

He used to tell skeptics: “Promise me that you’ll go to worship six Sundays in a row. And then try to miss the seventh Sunday. You won’t miss, because by then, you’ll want to be in worship. You’ll want to get closer to God.”

I promise that if you will dare to give the moments of your life to the control of the big God of the universe, you will, just like the disciples who recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread, see the risen Jesus working in your life.

You will see just how big and wonderful God is!

But watch out: If you give God an inch of your life, He will soon take the whole thing. Let Him take it!

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Do We Believe It?

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, earlier today.]

Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 116
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31
Last Sunday, we considered Jesus’ resurrection from the dead and asked the question, “But did it happen?” We looked at some of the evidence presented in Matthew’s account of the first Easter Sunday. That evidence, it seems to me, supports what we Christians say about Jesus: “He is risen, risen indeed!” This Sunday we come to another question: Do we believe it?

Do we believe that Jesus, sinless God in the flesh, rose from the dead? That isn’t just a question of fact. Many believe it’s true that Jesus rose from the dead. But they aren’t believers.

A friend of ours wanted her brother and his family to get involved in a church, knowing what a difference her own church had made in the lives of her husband, children, and herself and how in a bad news world, involvement in the church helps us hold on tight to the Good News about Jesus.

But she was frustrated by her brother's response. “Look,” he told her, “John 3:16 says that whoever believes in Jesus has eternal life. I believe in Jesus. I believe He rose from the dead. Why do I have to mess with the Church?”

I suppose all of us wonder about that sometimes. But our friend’s brother was confusing two different meanings of the term, “believe.”

One meaning of belief is to simply accept the facts of a case. Even Satan believes that Jesus is the Son of God and that Jesus rose from the dead; that doesn’t mean he’s in the Kingdom of God. It doesn’t make him a believer.

When the Bible and the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds use the words, “We believe…” or “I believe…,” much more is meant than just, “These are the facts.”

For the Christian, to believe in the God revealed in Jesus Christ and to believe in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead is to say:
  • We entrust all our lives, all our past sins, all our present fortunes, all our future, into the hands of one person alone. 
  • We don’t entrust our lives to ourselves, our efforts, or our understanding. 
  • We don’t entrust our lives to our country, our political philosophy, our families, or our ways of life. 
  • We entrust ourselves to the God revealed in Jesus Christ alone. 
  • We trust that Jesus alone can bring us into the presence of God, that the risen Jesus alone can bring us forgiveness of sin, that the risen Jesus alone will one day make our dead bones rise to new life in the eternal presence of our God. 
  • And we trust that Christ instituted the Church to help us believe in Him even as the devil, the world, and our sinful selves strive to drive us away from Christ. 
Do you believe this?

1 Corinthians 12, verse 3, says that no one can confess that Jesus is Lord—in other words, confess that Jesus is the ultimate authority over our lives and over the universe itself—unless the Holy Spirit empowers us to believe it. Belief in Jesus, is a gift, something we can’t manufacture.

In The Wizard of Oz, the Cowardly Lion tried to talk himself into courage. It didn’t work. Nor can we talk ourselves into believing in the risen Jesus.

But we can decide to be open to the gift of faith. This is true of all gifts, when you think about it. A gift is offered, but we must decide whether to take it.

When Ann and I were engaged, her stepfather offered a bucket of golf balls to me. I had no need of golf balls and, probably from pride, didn’t want to be seen as grasping for his charity. I told him, politely, “No, thanks.” He raged at me for “looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

People can look the gift of faith “in the mouth,” too, refusing it, just as our friend’s brother did. It’s part of the gracious, loving nature of God that He will not force us to entrust ourselves to Him. And though it breaks His heart, God lets us say, “No” to Him, giving us the final say over whether we live with Him or live in hell.

This has always been true. In the Garden of Eden, God gave Adam and Eve the freedom to say no to Him and the life He offered. They misused that freedom, submerging the whole universe (and you and me) into the bondage to sin from which we cannot free ourselves. (A bondage from which Jesus alone can free us.)

To Abraham and Sarah, God gave the freedom to trust in His promises of a son and a nation of descendants. Sometimes they trusted in God. Sometimes they didn’t. When they decided to trust God, even when adversity struck, they lived in the calming, empowering certainty of God’s presence. When they decided not to trust God, chaos inevitably broke out.

Through Read the Bible in a Year, we’ve seen that this same story played out in the history of God’s people after God freed them from slavery in Egypt; it’s because Israel decided with depressing frequency to walk away from God that what should have been an eleven day journey in the wilderness took God's half-believing chosen people forty years to complete!

Every day, we have a choice, a decision. We must choose whether to be open to the gift of an ever-deepening faith that the God we meet in the risen Jesus offers us or to close our wills to Him, ignore the clear teachings of Scripture and go our own ways. Do we truly believe in the God Who raised Jesus from the dead?

In the Old Testament, Joshua, the man God chose to replace Moses as leader of the Israelites, confronts the people with a decision. “Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve,” Joshua told them, "...but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord."

That is the decision that each of us must make: Whether to believe, trust, and serve the one and only God of the universe or not.

Each of our Bible lessons for today address this reality.

In the first lesson, part of Peter’s Pentecost sermon delivered ten days after the risen Jesus had returned to heaven, Peter confronts his fellow Jews with the truth that Jesus, according to the plan of God laid out in the Old Testament, though sinless, had died for the sins of all and had risen from the dead, an event he, along with 500 of his fellow Jesus-Followers, could vouch for. His sermon was a challenge for them to decide whether they would believe that the God of promise had fulfilled the promise of new life for all who believe in their time. “Do you believe it?” Peter asked.

Psalm 16, from Old Testament times, challenged the people to believe that those who ran after other gods or ways of life were led only to trouble, but that those who trust in God are never abandoned. “Do you believe it?” the Psalmist asked.

Peter, in our second lesson, writing to Christians in Asia Minor and other locations—people who faced daily persecution for their belief in the risen Jesus—challenged them to make the decision to trust that their faithfulness would result in “indescribable and glorious joy” when Jesus returned to bring an end to the life of this world and fully establish the new heaven and new earth of which all Christians will be citizens. Peter asked again: “Do you believe it?”

Our Gospel lesson ends with what I call John the Evangelist’s mission statement—the reason why he wrote the Gospel and really, the whole reason the Church and individual, ordinary Christians like you and me tell the world about the risen Jesus. Take a look at John 20:30-31:
Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life his name. 
“Here is the evidence for the new life with God that only comes to those who believe in the risen Jesus,” John is saying. “Do you believe it?”

Do we believe it? How we answer this question day-in and day-out is important not just for our lives beyond the grave. It’s important today.

On February 25, a dear friend of Ann’s and mine died. Ron Claussen was the pastor of a neighboring parish when we arrived at our first call in northwest Ohio in 1984. Later, Ron became a member of the congregation I served, Bethlehem Lutheran Church near Okolona.

But to describe Ron simply as a neighboring pastor or a parishioner doesn’t quite give you the right idea of who he was for so many people, including my family. Ron was, quite simply, one of the greatest people and greatest Christians I have ever known. He was certainly the finest pastor I ever met. Everything about him, including his wonderful sense of humor, displayed the risen Jesus Christ. When someone was hurting, no matter the time of day or night, Ron was there. I loved him more than I ever was able to tell him!

But there’s more to Ron’s story. In the 1950s, during his teen years in Nebraska, Ron was among the last people to be afflicted with polio, just before the first polio vaccines came out. Polio, for the benefit of you young people, is a horrible virus that, without the vaccines we now take for granted, can bring about total or partial paralysis and can cause bones and muscle to shrivel and atrophy. Polio can do other horrible things to the body of someone who suffers from it. That Ron contracted polio when he did was a horribly, tragic occurrence that would impact the rest of Ron’s life. Its effects would have destroyed or embittered many people. But it did neither to Ron. I spent many hours with Ron, but I never once heard him complain about his circumstances. He radiated the certainty that can come to those who follow Jesus!

The reason for this is simple: Each and every day of his life, Ron made a decision to trust in Jesus and to live for Him alone. You see, when we decide to open ourselves to the gift of faith in Jesus Christ, the joy and hope of eternity inevitably spills over our everyday lives. We know that already we have what Peter describes as “the outcome of…faith, the salvation of [our] souls.”

Deciding to let God build faith in the risen Jesus within us helps us face each day with confidence, joy, and hope.

We know that with Christ by your side, even when the world turns against us, we will prevail.

We know that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

We know that we can love as we’ve been loved, forgive as we’ve been forgiven, be as patient with others as God is with us.

Through Jesus, you can can know that God is with you always and that, one day, God will welcome you into eternity with Him.

Do you believe all of this?

Then live it! Amen!

Monday, April 25, 2011

Easter and Hope

Easter is the triumph of God that alone brings true hope.

Without Easter, all our phrases that begin with the words, "I hope..." are only expressions of selfish human will and are without substance or foundation, mere wishes.

The hope that the risen Jesus gives to all who repent and believe in Him is not just for life beyond the grave.

It is because of the promise of eternity enjoyed by followers of the risen Jesus though, that Martin Luther tore down the ecclesiastical walls between God and people, William Wilberforce combated slavery, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the confessing churches of Germany stood up against Hitler, Desmond Tutu faced off against apartheid, and Martin Luther King, Jr. fought for equality for the black and the poor.

Easter hope, contrary to what Karl Marx famously said, is no opiate, no reality-denying insulator that lulls believers in Christ into resigned fatalism.

Easter hope gives believers inspiration, courage, and the power to speak the truth in love, promote the love and justice with which God commands us to treat one another, and to try and fail and try again at every good and useful project that brings healing and encouragement to the world.

Easter hope has always allowed believers to strive for better lives in this world because they know that death is not the worst thing that can happen to Christians.

[With credit to Geoff Talbot, who blogs in seven sentences regularly.]

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Easter Sunday: But Did It Happen?

[This was shared during the second worship service with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, earlier today, Easter Sunday. Our son, Philip, a second year seminary student, preached at the early service and, in my humble opinion, did a fantastic job. I hope to share his sermon on this site later.]

Matthew 28:1-10
On this Easter Sunday morning, as we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, I want to consider a simple question: Did it happen? Was Jesus raised from the dead on the first Easter?

We live in a skeptical age. The so-called “New Atheists,” people who not only adamantly reject the existence of God, but also reject all truth claims made by the Bible, are given great prominence these days.

Even within the Church, there are theologians who claim that Jesus was not physically raised from the dead, that what the first disciples called “the resurrection” was only their subjective experience of the dead Savior’s presence in their memories.

And truth be known, even the most pious and convinced of believers have their moments of doubt.

But let’s be clear: If Jesus didn’t actually physically rise from the dead, we may as well pack up, go home, sell our church properties, and distribute the proceeds to some worthy charity.

And if any church member doesn’t actually trust that Jesus rose from the dead, going to church only out of habit or because they think that church is a good place to learn morals and meet friends, or just because church helps them get through their weeks (all of which can be very true, by the way), they would be well advised to do something else with their time.

In the first century, the apostle Paul wrote this to church members in the Greek city of Corinth: “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died.”

That’s what the apostle Paul said. But what do we say on this Easter Sunday, April 24, 2011?

Through the centuries and still today, some read or hear the words of Paul or those of the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ resurrection and dismiss it all.

One fifth grader in our congregation told me a few weeks ago that a classmate of his, no doubt echoing words he’d heard at home, didn’t believe in God or in Jesus. The kid said that Christianity was all a big conspiracy.

A teenager from our church shared with me too, that an adult of her acquaintance, a member of a church, had told her and other young people that the word “evangelical,” a word rooted in the Greek New Testament word for “gospel” or “good news,” the very word that Martin Luther used to describe his theological conviction that the risen Jesus gives new life as a free gift to all who are baptized and believe in Him, the word evangelical, this woman said, was “a bad word.”

 So, what do we say?

Are we evangelicals like Luther, who believe in the Good News of Jesus Christ’s resurrection or, at least, open to such belief?

Do we believe in (or are we open to believing in) the good news that all who trust in Christ have life forever with God?

Or are we wasting our time here this morning?

Let’s consider the evidence. Please pull out the Celebrate inserts from your bulletins and go to the Gospel lesson, Matthew 28:1-10.

Before we read it, by way of background, here are a few things to consider: In all four of the New Testament Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—there are two common elements: an empty tomb where Jesus’ body had been laid and the appearances to the risen Christ.

Anyone who takes the time to lay out the four Gospels’ different accounts of the first Easter side by side will see differences: different women are named among those who went to the tomb; Matthew says that the women simply went to see the tomb, while other gospels say they went to anoint Jesus’ body; and there are other differences.

But these differences shouldn’t bother us. They should, in fact, help convince us that the report of Jesus’ resurrection was no conspiracy, but the truth. As one New Testament scholar has said, “a calculated deception should have [caused the conspirators to agree on the details of the resurrection story]. Instead, there seem to have been competitors: 'I saw him first!' 'No! I did.'” That makes their common story that Jesus rose from the dead more likely to be true.

Now look at Matthew 28, verse 1, please. It says:
After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 
The Jewish sabbath, of course, runs from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday. As our lesson begins, the sun is rising. The women went to the tomb with no expectations of finding any good news. They had watched Jesus die. Like billions of people who have lost good friends or loved ones, they went to the cemetery only to pay their respects, to grieve and, maybe, to remember together. Jesus’ promise that He would rise again seemed like a fairy tale memory to them. The fact that the women who went to the tomb didn’t expect to see evidence of Jesus’ resurrection ought to make us give credibility to their later saying that Jesus, once dead, was alive again.

Now look at verses 2 through 7. It says:
And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 
Notice to whom this news—the greatest news in the history of the world—is being given: women.

In patriarchal first century Judea, the testimony of women wasn’t considered valid. A woman could not testify in court.

If the first Christians had made up the story of Jesus’ resurrection—if Easter was one big conspiracy, they certainly would have been shrewd enough to say that men were the first to meet the angel at the empty tomb and not women whose word would be automatically dismissed by that society.

This is a powerful proof that there was no Easter conspiracy. God chose women to be the first ones to proclaim the good news of Jesus’ resurrection because, as Paul wrote to the church in Galatia, in the kingdom of the risen Jesus, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” And Jesus Himself had promised that in His kingdom, those considered weak and insignificant by the world would be privileged characters, while those who were considered powerful and important by the world would take a back seat; Jesus put it this way: “The last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Please see what happens next in Matthew 28:7-10:
So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” 
None of Jesus’ first followers ever claimed to have seen the precise moment when the corpse of Jesus came back to life.

Instead, they all said that they were shown an empty tomb and like us, were asked to dare to trust that the Savior Who had never once lied to them was good for a promise He had made, that He would rise again.

It was only after the women at the empty tomb chose to be open to believe and chose to act on the angel’s message that they saw the risen Jesus.

When it comes to faith in God, you and I cannot fold our arms and demand that God prove Himself to us. Nor will God ever force us to trust in Him. In faith, seeing is not believing; believing is seeing!

So, did it really happen? Did Jesus really rise from the dead on the first Easter Sunday? The evidence, I think, indicates that He did.

But, even if we find the evidence for Jesus’ resurrection convincing, the resurrection will still be nothing more than a bit of trivia or a blip on our calendars unless we, like the women met by the angel at the empty tomb, dare to believe—to trust our whole lives to Christ—and dare to act on that belief.

In his new book, The Power of a Whisper, Bill Hybels tells of being with a group of pastors and asking them how they had come to faith in the risen Jesus.

One pastor said that he grew up in an unchurched home, his parents deeply hostile to Christ and the Church. Next door was a couple who believed in Jesus, were active in a local congregation, and sensed that God wanted them to invite their neighbors to church.

So, one day, they came to that young boy’s home and invited his family to worship with them. The parents were venomous in their response to the invitation, “We want nothing to do with your God…[or] your church…[or] you.”

But this boy, even after hearing his folks, said, “Hey, Dad. I’ll go.” The parents thought to themselves, “Free babysitting!” So, they let junior go to church.

All through that boy’s junior high years, the neighbors took him to church Sunday in, Sunday out. While in high school, he surrendered his life to Christ. Later, he became a pastor and started a church on the East Coast, which today welcomes thousands of worshipers each week, changing lives and bringing hope to people for this world and the next through the risen Jesus.

And it all started when one couple sensed that, like the women met by the message of Jesus’ resurrection at the empty tomb, they needed to share Christ with others.

Jesus Christ is risen from the dead! It really happened and He can change the eternities of all who repent and believe in Him.

Tell everyone you know!

To paraphrase the angel at the tomb, “This my message for you.”

This is God’s message for you. Happy Easter! Amen!

Friday, April 22, 2011

Be With Us for Good Friday or Easter at Saint Matthew


Tonight at Saint Matthew Lutheran Church, 258 East Hunter Street in Logan, Ohio, we'll commemorate Good Friday, remembering the death of Jesus Christ on the cross some two thousand years ago. Jesus, the sinless God-in-the-flesh, took our rightful punishment for sin.

As part of the service, which will begin at 7:00PM, we'll remember the seven last words, or phrases, that Jesus spoke from the cross.

If you will be in southeastern Ohio, home to the beautiful Hocking Hills, we would love to welcome you.

Also, if you're in the area on Sunday, you're invited to join us as we celebrate Christ's resurrection Easter Sunday--that's this Sunday, April 24. We'll have two Easter celebrations: at 8:00AM and 10:15AM.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Passover and the Lamb of God, Who Takes Away the Sin of the World

Significant for Christians' upcoming celebrations of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter--and significant for us at Saint Matthew, where as part of our reading of the Old Testament book of Numbers for Read the Bible in a Year--is that, on the Jewish calendar, Passover, the feast Jesus and the disciples celebrated when He instituted Holy Communion, began at sundown this evening.

In Numbers 9:1-5, we're told:
The Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the first month of the second year after they had come out of the land of Egypt, saying: Let the Israelites keep the passover at its appointed time. On the fourteenth day of this month, at twilight, you shall keep it at its appointed time; according to all its statutes and all its regulations you shall keep it. So Moses told the Israelites that they should keep the passover. They kept the passover in the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month, at twilight, in the wilderness of Sinai. Just as the Lord had commanded Moses, so the Israelites did. 
Passover begins on the 14th day of Nisan. Nisan is the first month of the Jewish calendar. By the reckoning of this calendar, new days begin at sundown. Today is the 14th of Nisan, 5771. 

Passover, of course, remembers the events recorded in Exodus 12. There, we're told of what happened when God sent a tenth and final plague to Egypt designed to gain the freedom of His chosen people--the Hebrews or the Israelites--from slavery. They had been slaves in Egypt for 430 years. The tenth plague came when God sent the angel of death to bring the deaths of all the first-born in Egypt.

The Israelites were spared though because, as God instructed them through Moses, they had previously smeared the blood of unblemished lambs on the doorposts of their dwellings. The lambs were offered to God in place of the firstborn Israelites. When the angel of death encountered the blood of the lambs, it passed over, ensuring that the first-born in those dwellings didn't die.

Blood, of course, carries life. In the Bible's account of the first murder, when Cain killed his brother Abel, God said that the blood of Abel cried out.

On the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur on the Jewish calendar, in Temple times, an unblemished lamb was offered as sacrifice signaling repentance and bringing reconciliation (atonement) with God, on behalf of the people. Its blood covered the sins the people committed fin the preceding year. As part of the rite on this day, the priest sprinkled the blood of the sacrificed lamb on the people. The blood of the lamb, in effect, called out to God and God passed over their sins. The significance of this can be seen when we consider the statement of a devout Jew who came to follow Jesus as Messiah, Lord, and God, the apostle Paul writing in Romans 6:23, "The wages of sin is death." By God's gracious intervention, the ancient Israelites were spared the proper "wages" for sin; God allowed the unblemished lamb to take the place of His people.

We Christians believe that just as the blood of unblemished lambs on the doorposts of the Hebrew dwellings in Egypt caused the angel of death to pass over God's people, leading ultimately to the Hebrews' liberation from slavery, the blood of Christ, covering the sins of repentant believers in Him, brings freedom from sin and death. 

Jesus is, as John the Baptizer put it, "the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sin of the world." And this sacrifice needn't be made repeatedly, as was true of the lambs of Yom Kippur. Jesus' sacrifice is effective once and for all. As the New Testament book of Hebrews puts it, Christ, the highest of priests, sacrificed Himself, so that all who repent and believe in Him are forgiven their sins, ever reconciled to God, and given everlasting life with God.


Paul puts the connection between the Jewish Passover and the Christian commemorations of Good Friday and Easter succinctly when he says:
Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed...(1 Corinthians 5:7, TNIV)
[Please also read Ephesians 2:11-13. Without faith in Jesus Christ, we stand outside a relationship with God. But we are brought near "by the blood of Christ."]

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Lady Gaga..."Judas" confession leaked on web! Sure to be a bullet rife with controversy!





 





With Easter upon us and Lady Gaga's latest single "Judas" about to be released world-wide on April 19th - a controversy is sure to erupt - in the aftermath.

Well - in the Western World - for starters!

Will the Vatican denounce the Pop Diva - who just may be a nice little Catholic girl under all the pushed-up bras, net stockings, and frenzied hoopla and hype - once the accompanying Video rocks the airwaves later in the week?

Not surprisingly, "Judas" has already made its way onto the web, just shy of  the official release.

A ploy by "L" to rev up buzz - or just an honest-to-goodness case of Internet pirating by enterprising monsters out to push their Pop Diva into the stratosphere - and roaring glare of the spotlight once again just in time for a change of season?

As we used to say in the "old" days, spring time is our time, eh?

At press time, Interscope Records hasn't uttered a peep in response.

However, the Diva's throaty vocals, say it all.

"Ohhh, I'm in love with Judas," she gushes on the track, which is accompanied by building synths.

Soon a thumping electronic beat kicks in as Gaga sings:

"Judahhh/ Juda-a-ah/ Gaga."

The signature bump and grind is reminiscent of "Bad Romance."

Meanwhile, MTV spouts that "Judas" is simply Gaga’s version of the Bible.

A confession?

"Let the cultural baptism begin," Gaga giggle recently in a Video release at Gagavision.

 "If they were not who you were taught they would be, would you still believe?"

As the Emperor would say in "Amadeus".

"There you have it, then!"

Amen!

http://www.thetattler.biz







Pop Diva hit monster!



 

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

What is the Church Year?

[Five years ago, as we were beginning a new season of Advent, I presented this explanation of the Church Year. It remains one of the most popular posts I've written for this blog. As we prepare, this Sunday, November 28, to begin another Advent season, I thought people might find it helpful.]

The Church Year is a human invention. Observing it won't make us better than anybody else. Nor does keeping it "save" a person from sin and death.

But the Church Year is one of those customs or traditions designed to help people know the God we meet in Jesus and also help believers to grow in their faith.

The Church Year is built around three great festivals: Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost.

Christmas, of course, is the celebration of Jesus' birth.

Easter is the day remembering Jesus' resurrection from the dead.

Pentecost remembers the occasion fifty days after Jesus' resurrection and ten days after His ascension into heaven when the Holy Spirit came to Jesus' praying disciples and gave birth to the Church.

Historically, Easter was the first holiday (the word contracts two words: holy day) that Christians began to celebrate. This only makes sense, as it's Jesus' resurrection that gives Christians hope for this life and the one to come. While early Christians did seem to remember Easter on a Sunday falling at the beginning of the Jewish Passover, the practice of the first Christians, all of whom were Jews like Jesus, was to worship on the traditional Jewish Sabbath--from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday--and to celebrate every Sunday as a little Easter. (Some echo of this can be found in the Gospel of John's occasional references to an "eighth day," a new beginning in a new week.)

Over time, a Church Year developed which allowed for the retelling of Jesus' life, death, resurrection, and ascension, followed by Pentecost. The Church Year, in order, moves through these seasons:
  • Advent
  • Christmas
  • Epiphany
  • Lent
  • Easter
  • Pentecost
Advent, with which the color blue is most often associated today, is celebrated on the four Sundays preceding Christmas, which always occurs on the fixed date of December 25. The word advent, means coming or presence. The theme of Advent is waiting. This season remembers more than the centuries when the world anticipated or waited for the coming of the Savior, Jesus, on the first Christmas. It also calls us to patiently await both God's activity in our own lives and the return of Jesus at the end of earthly time. Advent's blue, the color of the sky, reminds us of the endless hope all believers in Jesus Christ have.

Christmas begins on December 25 and ends on January 6, with Epiphany Day. (That's why people sing about The Twelve Days of Christmas.) We don't know the exact date of Jesus' birth. Our current date was long ago selected to be a Christian alternative to a pagan Roman festival, Saturnalia. Christmas has a short season of two Sundays associated with it, running right up to the season of Epiphany. The color of the Christmas season and of Easter, because they are both festivals of Jesus, the sinless Savior, is white.

The word epiphany comes from a Greek compound word meaning to shine upon. The Epiphany Season begins with January 6, the day we commemorate the arrival of wise men from foreign lands who followed a star to the baby Jesus to a house in Bethlehem. It was there that Mary and Joseph lived with their Child for several years after the Savior's birth. January 6, in fact, is called Epiphany Day. (Because the wise men brought gifts, Epiphany was historically the day on which Christians gave gifts to one another.) The Epiphany Season is composed of between four and nine Sundays after January 6. The season is bracketed by a first Sunday, which always remembers Jesus' Baptism, and a Sunday at the end that remembers Jesus' Transfiguration. At the Transfiguration, on top of a mountain, accompanied by three of His disciples, Jesus' image was transfigured by the luminescence of heaven and God spoke, confirming Jesus' identity and mission. On the two bracketing Sundays of the Epiphany Season, the color is white. During the season in between, the color is green.

During the Epiphany season, Christians look at the early signs that pointed to Jesus being more than just a human being, but also God in the flesh, the Light of the world. The emphasis of the Epiphany season is usually on sharing the good news of Christ with others, shining the light of Christ on those around us.

After Epiphany comes Lent, a word which in the Old English, meant spring. Lent is a time for spiritual renewal and precedes the holiest days of the Church Year, including Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. Lent is referred to as a season of forty days, which it is if you know how to count the days. Because Sundays are always "little Easters," the Sundays in Lent (not of Lent), are not counted as part of those forty days.

The color associated with Lent is purple, the color of royalty because in ancient times, purple dyes were so rare and expensive that only royalty could afford cloth of that color. Historically, the season of Lent was a time of preparation for adult converts to the faith to prepare for their initiation into Christianity at Easter.

There are several key days on the Lenten calendar. The season begins with Ash Wednesday. This is a day of repentance, that is, of turning away from sin and turning to Christ for forgiveness. Of course, as Martin Luther phrased it, "daily repentance and renewal" are meant to be an ongoing element of the Christian's life as we routinely strive to orient ourselves to God and His will for us. But Ash Wednesday is a time when all are especially reminded of it.

Near the end of the season comes Passion Sunday (also known as Palm Sunday). On this day, we're called to remember both Jesus' seemingly triumphal entry into Jerusalem on the Sunday before His execution and Christ's passion, as well as its foreshadowing of Easter. Passion, a word that is used in entirely different ways today, really means to be so committed to the well-being of another that we're willing to die for them. Christ had that kind of commitment to us and so, went to a cross. Passion Sunday begins that portion of Lent called Holy Week.

The next major day on the Holy Week calendar is Maundy Thursday. Maundy is rooted in the Latin word mandatum, from which we get our word mandate, related to the word commandment. That's because on the Thursday night before He was executed, during the Passover celebration at which He instituted Holy Communion, Jesus also gave His disciples "a new commandment": that they love one another.

Many churches have foot-washing rites during their special gatherings on this day. Jesus washed the feet of His disciples before they ate together on that first Maundy Thursday and also commanded all of His followers to be servants like Him.

Good Friday, which comes on the next night, is a solemn remembrance of Jesus' death on the cross. For me, this is one of the most moving worship services of the year. At our congregation, as is true of many churches, we have a service called Tenebrae. This word comes from the Latin and means darkness. The service remembers the darkness that engulfed the world at Jesus' execution as well as our need of Him as the light in our darkness. The service ends in silence as all contemplate Jesus' sacrifice of Himself for us.

Easter Sunday brings the celebration of Jesus' resurrection in a special way and continues throughout the Easter season. This is usually the high point of the year, even in churches that don't use the Church Year. The Easter Season lasts about seven weeks. The Gospel lessons incorporate accounts of the resurrected Jesus' appearances. Tucked in the midst of the season, on a Thursday, is Ascension Day. This comes forty days after Easter. More on that below.

Pentecost Day, as I mentioned, is the celebration of the Church's birthday, when the Holy Spirit, Who hovered over the waters of primordial chaos to bring life into being back in the Old Testament book of Genesis, once again creates. This time, He creates new life by bringing Christ's Church, His body in the world, into being. The color of this day is red.

There follows after that a season that lasts from twenty-three to twenty-eight weeks. It's referred to simply as the Pentecost Season. The color is green because the emphasis here is on growing in our faith, learning to be Jesus' disciples or followers at ever-deepening levels of maturity.

The very first Sunday after Pentecost is Holy Trinity Sunday. This focuses on the great mystery of the God we meet in the Bible: One God in three Persons, revealed in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The whole Church Year comes to a close, on the Sunday closest to November 30, with Christ the King Sunday.

Associated with each of the Sundays and many of the festivals of the Church Year are three cycles of appointed Biblical lessons. These cycles, referred to as Years A, B, and C, are called lectionaries. There are several sets of lectionaries, the the most well-known being those associated with the Roman Catholics, another with Lutherans, and another with a consortium of several Protestant denominations. The lectionaries are fairly similar, but do diverge occasionally.

Each Sunday and special festival day of the Church Year has appointed lessons from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the New Testament (either Acts, Revelation, or the letters), and a Gospel lesson. Generally speaking, the Old Testament, Psalm, and Gospel readings are thematically linked. The New Testament lessons are designed to make it possible over a three year period, to have almost all the letters, Revelation, and Acts read in public worship.

The three different cycles are built on the three synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke. (Synoptic is a word that means to see together. These three Gospels are quite similar to one another--they see things similarly, while the Gospel of John has the most unique material.) Because Mark, with only sixteen chapters, is so short, the appointed Gospel lessons during its year are often taken from John.

Through my years as a pastor, I've felt free to spring loose from what one of our former Lutheran bishops, David Preus, called "the tyranny of the lectionary," looking at Biblical texts not appointed in the lectionary, in order to address issues that seem to be important in our community or world. But the lectionary does provide a well-rounded diet of Biblical material which, when looked at in a disciplined and devoted way, can help Christians develop a deeper faith.

[The image above, showing the cycle of the Church Year, comes from Augsburg Fortress, the publishing house of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.]

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Understanding Revelation, Part 6 (Revelation 22:12-21)

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, this morning.]

Revelation 22:12-21
There’s a simple scene enacted in millions of homes and other places across the country every single day.

It may involve a family with children, sitting before a freshly cooked, multi-course meal together with extended family.

It may entail a single person with a frozen dinner they’ve just microwaved.

Or it might play out among a group of friends grabbing a fast food meal on the road.

In each scene, heads bow and either silently or aloud, a prayer is said: “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed.”

I bet you’ve been part of a similar scene yourself many times. It’s likely that you too have said that prayer yourself countless times.

In fact, say that prayer with me again right now: “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed.”

Like other well-known prayers we say, this one may have been nearly bleached of personal meaning for us by constant use. But we say this prayer and teach it to our children and grandchildren mostly, I think, because, as we eat and drink and, maybe, visit with others over our meals, we want Jesus to be at that table with us.

A simpler prayer on which this one is based, goes all the way back to the first Christians. Paul offers this it in his first letter to the Corinthian Christians, breaking away from the Greek in which it and the whole rest of the New Testament was written to use a phrase from Aramaic. (Hebrew was a dead language by the time Jesus was born and Aramaic was the language that He and all the people of Judea used back then.) Paul prayed, “Marana Tha,” (Maranatha), meaning, “Come, Lord.”

But I wonder, as we pray this simple prayer, how much do we mean it when we ask Jesus to come to us?

An old joke has a man telling a friend: “I was praying last night and when I did, I sensed God giving me two messages: good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” “The good news, I guess,” the friend answered. “OK, here's the good news: Jesus is coming back soon,” the man said. His friend was excited. “If that’s your good news,” the friend said, “I can’t imagine any news being bad enough to make me unhappy. What’s the bad news?” The first man answered: “Jesus is really ticked off.”

When we think about the words of that old dinnertime prayer, “Come, Lord Jesus…,” we may wonder that if Jesus really answers it, whether we'll like what happens?

No doubt, we’re sincere in our invitations to Jesus when things are going badly in our lives: When we’re facing health issues, when a teenaged son or daughter is driving home on a stormy night, when we get an audit notice from the IRS. The old saying is true, I think: “There are no atheists in fox holes.”

But when things are going well—when we’re healthy, the kids are home safe, and the tax refund is safely deposited in our account with no questions asked, we may not think too much about Jesus, let alone inviting Him to be our guest.

In fact, having Jesus as our guest may be the last thing that we want. When I was in college, I worked as youth coordinator in an acquaintance’s campaign for the State House of Representatives. I spent a lot of time with Bob*, a guy whose stint in the Army and impending tour of duty in Vietnam were ended when he got into a motorcycle accident that required the amputation of a leg. I was an atheist in those days and Bob told me that he believed in God.

“But,” he told me once, “I don’t want to get too close to God. I don’t want to have to change any of the things I like to do. The way I figure it, I’m going to live it up, do whatever I want to do. And then, when I’m on my deathbed, I’ll ask God to forgive me of my sins—accept Jesus or whatever, and then go to heaven.”

Even then, as an eighteen year old, I remember thinking that a man who’d lost a limb in a motorcycle accident should know that the opportunity for making peaceful deathbed confessions of faith are guaranteed to no one. In this fallen and dying world, anything can happen and it often does, without our plan or approval.

The writer of our second lesson for this morning, John the Evangelist, writing in the New Testament’s last book, Revelation, knew well how nothing in this world can be taken for granted. When he wrote the letter we call Revelation to the Christian churches of western Turkey, John was without freedom, a manacled prisoner exiled on the Mediterranean island of Patmos.

And the believers in Jesus to whom John wrote also knew that life may not go as planned. By the time John's letter had come to them, they had already felt the sting of harassment and pressure from authorities of the Roman Empire demanding that they renounce their faith in Jesus, which those in power saw as a threat to the Roman way of life. Some of these early followers of Jesus had been imprisoned for their faith. And some knew church members who had been killed for believing in Jesus. Their lives were hard. The empire under which they lived was evil. Their prayers for Jesus to come to them or to come to bring down the curtain on this world had an urgency that you and I seldom feel when we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest.”

It was for Christians like these—to give them comfort, hope, and strength—that Jesus, already crucified, risen from the dead, and ascended to heaven, revealed to John the visions that make up much of Revelation.

Jesus wanted His people to know that all who repent for their sin and trust in Him have all that they need in this life and the next.

The last verses of Revelation that make up our second lesson today find Jesus repeating this promise--the promise that is at the heart of Revelation--to John, to those early Christians, and to us: “See, I am coming soon…”

But I’m convinced that even when Christ seems to be far away, He is already with us. There are times when we find that hard to believe. But if we will, as Psalm 46, the psalm whose words inspired the lyrics of Martin Luther's 'A Mighty Fortress is Our God,' tells us, “be still and know that” God is God, we may be surprised by the ways in which Jesus comes to us.

Corrie ten Boom, the Dutch Christian who, along with her family, were imprisoned by the Nazis during World War Two because they helped Jews escape their occupied country, is one of my heroes. During one four-month stretch of her imprisonment at the Ravensbruck Concentration Camp, Corrie was placed in solitary confinement. The cell was dark and there was dirty standing water on the floor. At times, she heard the cries of other prisoners and knew that she too could be tortured by the Nazis. Once, terrified beyond all bearing, she cried out to God, “Lord, I’m not strong enough to endure this. I don’t have the faith.”

At that moment, Corrie looked down to see an ant. She noticed that the moment the ant felt water on the floor, it went straight back into its hole in the wall. Corrie realized that when the ant confronted something too big or overwhelming, it went to its hiding place. “Corrie,” God seemed to tell her, “don’t look at your weak faith...I am your hiding place, and you can come running to Me” the way that ant went to its hiding place. When we’re desperate enough to truly mean it when we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus,” we may take it as a matter of faith that Christ will come to us!

And one day, Jesus will come back in the flesh to bring the old earth and old heaven to an end and the new earth and the new heaven into being. But what will Jesus do when He comes back?

The answer to that question is found in the first verse of our lesson. After promising that He is coming soon, Jesus says, “My reward is with me, to repay according to everyone’s work.”

Now, every good Lutheran knows, of course, that we are saved not by what we do—by our works—but by the gracious gift of new life God gives to those with faith in Jesus, Who died on the cross and rose from death for us.

So, what does Jesus mean saying that He’s going to repay us according to our work? Is He changing the rules of the game? If He is, we’re in trouble.

No, Jesus isn’t changing the rules. Jesus, the Lamb of God Who takes away our sin, is, as the book of Hebrews tells us, “the same yesterday, and today, and forever.”

For those of us who live in the in-between times—the times between our own births and deaths, the times between Jesus’ resurrection and His return to the world, between the mysteries of this life and the triumphant answers of the world to come, the work that Jesus rewards is well-known. Jesus put it this way in words recorded in John’s Gospel: “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him Whom [God] has sent.”

Trusting submission to Jesus is the work of the Christian. Allowing ourselves to be washed of all our sin and death in the blood of the Lamb of God: That is the work we do to enter eternity. We are saved by God’s grace through our faith in Christ; that’s our work.

We began this series of sermons on Revelation five weeks ago with the idea of simplifying a book of the Bible that people love to complicate. When all is said and done, the message of Revelation is simple. No matter what trials or uncertainties we may deal with in this life, when we turn from sin and trust in Christ, we have strength for today and hope for tomorrow.

Christ can come to us even now as he did to John on his island of exile. And Christ promises that once our lives here end, He will come to us again. Toward the end of our lesson, near the end of Revelation, Jesus says again, “Surely I am coming soon.” John responds, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!”

May that be our prayer through all the moments of our lives. And when that is our prayer, we can be sure that the blessing that ends Revelation will be ours every day: “The grace of the Lord be with all the saints. Amen!”

Come, Lord Jesus!

*Not his real name.