2 Corinthians 9
In keeping with the spirit of the season let me begin by saying that we have a veritable cornucopia of topics to choose from this morning. Liturgically this is Christ the King Sunday, the last day in the Church's liturgical year. It is November, and that is often a time to bring our stewardship campaign to a close with some kind of festive hurrah sermon. And, naturally, it is the week of Thanksgiving.
How to decide? Well, Christ the King is liturgically interesting and important but can be a snoozer in the pews so it’s risky. As to Stewardship I can report that we have received 220 pledges totally $653,836.92. (as to the 92 cents, you are welcome). There is still time to get your pledge in and avoid a call from the Stewardship committee, although they are all quite pleasant to talk with.
So that leaves us with Thanksgiving. As I was moving into my office, and stuffing four file drawers full of my father's sermons (Do not worry, I do occasionally have an original thought), I was reminded of a particularly insightful Thanksgiving observation he made some many years ago, and I want to bring it forward to today, if I may, with embellishments.
Our text today also serves the dual purposes of Thanksgiving and Stewardship. It is here, in Paul's letter to the Corinthians, that we find the familiar assurance that “God loves a cheerful giver”. It is here that the apostle urges his friends to be generous towards the needs of others. But that is far from the whole story. There are two sides to every coin and to most texts. Between the lines, and upon them even, is that other side of stewardship: gratitude. It begins as a faint glow upon life’s horizon and then grows into a vast flood of thanksgiving.
Gratitude is such an important matter. It should be an ongoing habit and not just an annual tryptophan overdose. But this year as you prepare again to return thanks for the many blessings of your lives, I would ask that you consider as well the other side of Thanksgiving. And this is the provocative thought I received from my father many years back. The other side of Thanksgiving is this: All of the reasons that other people are thankful for you.
Now this might be a new thought for some. We have been trained by our upbringing and by many Christian expressions to think humility a great Christian virtue. We recall the parable Jesus told which concludes with the servant saying that he did only what he ought to have done. For far too many people, faith is really no more than a guilt trip. The freedom of the Gospel becomes the burden of the Gospel. The Christian life becomes a long list of obligations, where everyone else’s problems are more important than our own. But the Gospel is not this: the Gospel is less compulsion and more freedom. Our lives should reflect the wholeness and joy that is God’s plan for his human creation.
It is high time to say a word for a healthy self-respect that comes hand in hand with God’s grace. And thanksgiving is a way to do that. After you make that list of blessings, make that list of those who are blessed as a result of you. That is what Paul is talking about. He is urging the Corinthians to be generous to the earliest and most likely poorest of the churches… the church in Jerusalem. Paul reminds the Corinthians that gratitude will arise in the hearts of those who will receive this aid out of the Corinthian’s abundance, a gratitude that finds its fullest expression through gratitude towards God.
For God does his work through people. People like you and me. We are so used to hearing “acts of God” from insurance companies and lawyers who do not want to be held responsible for things. We can be led to believe that God acts only in strange and capricious ways which are, for the most part, unfortunate. But the witness of scripture shows us that God’s gracious work is incarnate through the life and deeds and caring of those whom God calls. Paul also tells the Corinthians this: We are the body of Christ, and individually members of it.
For a reason which will become clearer in a moment, allow me to quote my father on this idea of God answering prayers through people: When a despairing woman prays that her children not starve. And food is available because someone was moved to give an extra gift to famine relief, who can say that God has not answered that woman’s prayer. When a parent prays for a child who is heading for trouble, and a church or a youth worker touches that child’s live an opens a door to faith, who is to say that God has not answered that prayer?
Now this is hard to prove to a skeptic. There was a celebrated case once in Florida where a man sued his church because the pastor had promised that if he made a financial contribution to the church the Lord would bless him several times in return. And this did not happen, at least to the man's satisfaction. So the man sued the church for breach of promise. Don't try to prove this to a skeptic. But there remain powerful examples.
Our anthem this morning may not have sounded the traditional “thanksgiving” note, but it is a powerfully appropriate reminder of our theme. The composer, Kurt Bestor, once lived in the former Yugoslavia and, as that country descended into a hateful and bloody civil war, Bestor wrote the anthem as a lamentation. It is for the children that Bestor mourns most. This is why the anthem is called "Prayer of the Children". Can you hear the prayer of the children on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room? Empty eyes with no more tears to cry, turning heavenward, toward the light, crying, “Jesus, help me to see the morning light of one more day.” Can you hear the prayer of the children?
There was one organization that did. In 1997, while I was the pastor of the West End Presbyterian Church in Albany, New York, our session heard from a young woman whose family had relocated to Albany from war-torn Bosnia. For two years she, her husband, and their two small children lived in a refugee camp no more than two houses wide. Food, clothing, the basic necessities of life were scarce. Their country was at war. For two years they lived under these oppressive conditions until they received the opportunity to come to the United States. Their sponsorship was arranged through the refugee resettlement program, a Christian organization that sponsors refugee families and helps them secure housing, furniture, food, clothing, a new beginning. Her reaction, as was also the reaction of the other refugees aided by this organization, was one of disbelief. Why would strangers put themselves out so that she and her family might have their needs met. She was told it was done for love. This is hard for her to understand for, in her country, there is no love. Only hate.
For the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God. These are the blessings of giving. Needs are met and much thanksgiving is generated toward God. And those who have helped with refugee resettlement, or mission work overseas, or who have helped in a food kitchen or a homeless shelter, or who brought food to this church for the food bank drive or who delivered the food last Wednesday—this is the reward: A flood of thanksgiving. The satisfaction in knowing that God is glorified through the obedience to the Gospel of Christ.
Earlier I quoted from my father's sermon where he used, as an hypothetical example, a young teenager who may be on the wrong path in life but is brought back to faith by the word or caring of a church worker. This week the hypothetical became the actual in the form of a letter that fell from heaven onto my desk this week. The letter was written by a man in Pennsylvania, addressed to me here at the church. He wrote to me to tell me that he had recently quoted from one of my father's early sermons as part of a stewardship presentation at his church. The man had tried to locate my father, to thank him, and discovered that he had died this past summer. He wrote to me in part to offer his condolences. But he also offered this:
Your father was the single greatest influence on setting me on my life's path of faith. He was our pastor at Woods Memorial when I was 14-19 years old. His message, his faith, his encouragement, and his friendship changed my life from one of being a self-centered teen to being an inspired and faith-filled Christian. The gentleman enclosed the specific sermon from which he had quoted, a sermon my father preached in 1961, the subject of which was that which makes for true happiness. The letter continued:
I have kept this sermon in my bedside Bible for 49 years now. I tried unsuccessfully to locate your father a number of times to let him know how much he had helped me. In spite of not being able to do this, it gives me joy that I was able to locate you and pass my words of appreciation to you.
This man was never able to say thank you to my father. My father never heard of his gratitude. But the essential point is this: We have in our midst precious children—from cherubs to senior high students. And they are our charge, our responsibility for generating in them a deeper faith, a real belief in themselves and their intrinsic value, and for generating their thanksgivings to God. For the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God.
We are the body of Christ, and individually members of it. It is through the Church that Christ's work continues today. That is why Paul can assure the Corinthian Church that they will always be rich enough to be generous. We cannot demand abundance of material means as the prerequisite for a generous spirit. For generosity takes many forms--the material and the spiritual--and we never work out of our own limitations, but out of the abundance of grace and the unlimited resources that God places at the disposal of his Church.
As you celebrate Thanksgiving this week, by all means, express your gratitude. Express your gratitude for the privilege of living in this country with all of its resources and possibilities and freedoms. Express your gratitude for those members of the armed forces who will not be home at Thanksgiving out of their commitment to peace and freedom. Express your gratitude for your family and friends and a roof over your head and a plate before you on the table. But also take a moment to remember all of those who, by your generosity, will give their thanks to God. As you pray to your Heavenly Father, pause and listen... listen for the prayers of all, especially the children. And by God's grace and by his power in our lives we will be prepared to do far more by our faithfulness than we realize, to let our hearts and minds and feelings and thinking center upon and savor these words from Paul: For the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God. Through the testing of this ministry you glorify God by your obedience to the confession of the gospel of Christ and by the generosity of your sharing with them and with all others, while they long for you and pray for you because of the surpassing grace of God that he has given you. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! And what can we possibly say to this, but Amen, and Amen.
Let us pray:
Gracious God we give you our thanksgiving for the infinite blessings from which we benefit. We pray only that we may be such a benefit to others, to all in need, the young and the old, so that in this season and always, the obedience to your gospel will generate a vast flood of thanksgiving to heaven's ears. Amen.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Jesus at the SAT- November 14, 2010
Jesus and the SAT
November 14, 2010
James Hawley--First Presbyterian Church- Salina, Kansas
We need to start with a disclaimer. I am certain that one of my former math teachers is here this morning and I want to make it clear that she is not responsible for the following admission. I am not very good at math.
Once my daughter brought me her fifth grade math homework. The only problems she got wrong were the ones I helped her with. I am not very good at math.
I remember especially being terrorized by certain problems that were part of standardized testing, such as the ACT or SAT tests. These were the, so-called, story problems. Let me give you an example:
Billy has twelve sacks of groceries to deliver to five houses. If Billy leaves at noon and travels ten minutes to make his first delivery, and five minutes to make his second delivery, what time will he give up and go play pin-ball instead? (As an aside—this example is not solvable, so do not spend the next ten minutes trying to solve it)
These bad memories came back to me this week as I read again this confrontation between Jesus and the Sadducees. By way of context, this is the third such confrontation to which Jesus has been subjected since he entered Jerusalem near the end of his life. In the first place the scribes and Pharisees complained about his lack of authority to teach. In the second place the same combatants tried to trick him with the question about paying taxes to Caesar. This is the last of the challenges and, as Luke tells us, after this exchange no one dared ask Jesus anything else. But before we can get to that breath of fresh air we must first deal with this.
And it is a story problem that Jesus is confronted with. The Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection. So certain are they that there is no resurrection that they ask Jesus a question designed to show the absurdity of resurrection. According to Moses as recorded in the book of Deuteronomy, if a man dies childless his brother should take the widow into his home for the purposes of generating the next generation. So in the Sadducees’ scenario, there were seven brothers, but not seven brides—only one bride. And each brother married the one bride but failed to bring forth a son. The Sadducees are not interest in that part. They are simply pointing out that—like an endless hall of mirrors—these brothers followed one after the other in marrying this same woman so that in the—ahem—resurrection, there will be mass hysteria when they have to sort out whose wife she will be. You can almost hear the giggles and the snickering.
But Jesus does not snicker. He treats the matter with the utmost gravity. Without hesitation Jesus points out that this is an apples and oranges situation. Certainly in this age the seven married the same woman according to the Law of Moses. But in the age to come, the resurrection age, the same rules do not apply. In fact, what we know of the current age—our customs, our behaviors, our attitudes—will be irrelevant in the age to come. And that is a good thing. For in their place will be such wonders and glory as cannot be imagined in this lifetime. There will be angels and children of God—whatever and however that will be—in the reality of the resurrection life. Jesus is short on specifics, but his over-arching message is important and comforting: Do not judge the life to come by the life here and now. They are entirely different things and the resurrection life is much to be coveted.
The Sadducees were one “denomination” of 1st Century Judaism, the Pharisees being another. The Sadducees were among the better off in society and had a very limited view of scripture. So limited in fact that their Scripture did not extend beyond the first five books of the Hebrew canon. These books are known as the Pentateuch (Pente is five in Greek) or the Books of Moses, because tradition said that Moses wrote them. Not only did the Sadducees reduce their bible to this amount, they took a very strict and literal understanding away from it. They were literalists. As strict literalists, the Sadducees believed there was no choice but to do whatever Moses said to do. But like many strict literalists, they were also quite selective.
Their particular example comes from the book of Deuteronomy. This book, the fifth of the five Books of Moses, is one long oration by Moses (with the exception of his death which is narrated at the end. How Moses wrote that part we do not know, especially if there is no resurrection).
Now Deuteronomy contains many interesting rules and regulations from the mouth of Moses. For example, and this is important in the spring, “if you come upon a bird’s next, in any tree or on the ground, with fledglings or eggs, with the mother sitting on the fledglings or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young. Let the mother go, taking only the young for yourself, in order that it may go well with you and you may live long.” Or this, which I think may apply to some who are here. “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof; otherwise you might have bloodguilt on your house, if anyone should fall from it.” Or this one came up in my life this week. “You must not move your neighbor’s boundary marker, set up by former generations, on the property that will be allotted to you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you to possess. There is also a rule about forgiving all debt in the seventh year which is why we took out a six year mortgage.
Now do not misunderstand me. Rules are important. Rules are necessary. An established set of laws is the mark of a civilized society. My children have established very good rules and I do my best to follow them. The problem here is not entirely “the rules”. Jesus does not dispute the truth of the Sadducees claim that the seven brothers have an earthly duty. The problem here is a lack of vision. What we have here is more than a failure to communicate. We have a failure to dig more deeply and explore more broadly.
Or to put it another way—The Sadducees were only interested in the Law of Moses, but Jesus was interested in the story of Moses. Jesus’ response to the Sadducees is also taken from the Pentateuch. It comes from the book of Exodus. It is a reference to Moses standing before the burning bush and hearing the voice of God. The story of Moses begins where Exodus begins and extends for pretty much the rest of the book with a good thirty chapters or so devoted to a narrative of how Moses went from baby drifting in a basket on the Nile to VIP in Egypt to murderer and refugee to God’s chosen deliverer. This final promotion occurs at the burning bush where Moses not only receives is new assignment but also learns the name of God. God’s name is “I Am what I Am.” This is the burning bush that Jesus is talking about.
Out of the bush God invokes the lives of the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Because God is the great “I Am” otherwise translated as the great “I Will Be”, to associate his name with the patriarchs is to list them among the living, not the dead. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are not dead and gone. They are a part of God’s salvation history. Therefore, there is resurrection and—what is more—this evidence which Jesus produces comes from the Sadducees own scripture.
Jesus point, and therefore ours, is this: We must be cautious of allowing our limited understanding of Scripture stand for the whole of Scripture. We must guard against thinking our interpretations are the same for everyone. This is especially risky when we pick and choose from among Biblical scriptures—especially ones pertaining to law and regulation. The vast witness of Scripture is not law and regulation. Story is far more pronounced and far more common. Think about it. The only, and I mean the only, witness to the life and teachings of Jesus Christ in the Bible comes in the form of a story, namely the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Story has so many advantages over rules and regulations. It is easy to take rules literally. Don’t run in the hall means don’t run in the hall. But in story we get something a little more complicated, and we should be grateful for that. Unlike rules—which are meaningless to us if they do not apply to us directly in the moment—stories intersect with our experience. Even if the stories we hear are not literally true—such as the Harry Potter novels, or the Chronicles of Narnia, or my seasonal favorite, A Christmas Carol. Although not literally true, they touch on the experiences which are so true—sometimes painfully true. Always redemptively true. Of young love, of competition, of courage and heroism, of coming of age, of the need for a wise mentor, of sacrifice and the ongoing struggle between good and evil. Are the stories of Jesus true? Of course they are. But think of all the stories Jesus himself told. Was there really a prodigal son? Was there really a Samaritan who helped a wounded man on the road? Does it matter? Jesus told these stories to illustrate the rules, to give flesh to them, to make the rules real and human. And the Gospel writers told stories about Jesus for the same purpose—so that Jesus would be understood not as the ultimate hall monitor, but the Word of God, full of grace and truth.
These stories of the Bible, and particularly of Jesus, are meant to illustrate, not whether it is acceptable to remove the boundary marker on a piece of property—but the greatest rule of all—the rule of love. Love the Lord your God with all of your heart and with all of your soul, and with all of your mind, and with all of your strength. And love your neighbor as yourself. And by the way, although the Sadducees may not have paid attention to them, these commandments come from the Pentateuch as well.
Let us pray:
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—we thank you for the stories that feed our life of faith. Help us to see beyond the rules to the love that lies behind, the love you have shown us in Jesus Christ, our Lord, whose story is the greatest ever told. We pray in his name. Amen.
November 14, 2010
James Hawley--First Presbyterian Church- Salina, Kansas
We need to start with a disclaimer. I am certain that one of my former math teachers is here this morning and I want to make it clear that she is not responsible for the following admission. I am not very good at math.
Once my daughter brought me her fifth grade math homework. The only problems she got wrong were the ones I helped her with. I am not very good at math.
I remember especially being terrorized by certain problems that were part of standardized testing, such as the ACT or SAT tests. These were the, so-called, story problems. Let me give you an example:
Billy has twelve sacks of groceries to deliver to five houses. If Billy leaves at noon and travels ten minutes to make his first delivery, and five minutes to make his second delivery, what time will he give up and go play pin-ball instead? (As an aside—this example is not solvable, so do not spend the next ten minutes trying to solve it)
These bad memories came back to me this week as I read again this confrontation between Jesus and the Sadducees. By way of context, this is the third such confrontation to which Jesus has been subjected since he entered Jerusalem near the end of his life. In the first place the scribes and Pharisees complained about his lack of authority to teach. In the second place the same combatants tried to trick him with the question about paying taxes to Caesar. This is the last of the challenges and, as Luke tells us, after this exchange no one dared ask Jesus anything else. But before we can get to that breath of fresh air we must first deal with this.
And it is a story problem that Jesus is confronted with. The Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection. So certain are they that there is no resurrection that they ask Jesus a question designed to show the absurdity of resurrection. According to Moses as recorded in the book of Deuteronomy, if a man dies childless his brother should take the widow into his home for the purposes of generating the next generation. So in the Sadducees’ scenario, there were seven brothers, but not seven brides—only one bride. And each brother married the one bride but failed to bring forth a son. The Sadducees are not interest in that part. They are simply pointing out that—like an endless hall of mirrors—these brothers followed one after the other in marrying this same woman so that in the—ahem—resurrection, there will be mass hysteria when they have to sort out whose wife she will be. You can almost hear the giggles and the snickering.
But Jesus does not snicker. He treats the matter with the utmost gravity. Without hesitation Jesus points out that this is an apples and oranges situation. Certainly in this age the seven married the same woman according to the Law of Moses. But in the age to come, the resurrection age, the same rules do not apply. In fact, what we know of the current age—our customs, our behaviors, our attitudes—will be irrelevant in the age to come. And that is a good thing. For in their place will be such wonders and glory as cannot be imagined in this lifetime. There will be angels and children of God—whatever and however that will be—in the reality of the resurrection life. Jesus is short on specifics, but his over-arching message is important and comforting: Do not judge the life to come by the life here and now. They are entirely different things and the resurrection life is much to be coveted.
The Sadducees were one “denomination” of 1st Century Judaism, the Pharisees being another. The Sadducees were among the better off in society and had a very limited view of scripture. So limited in fact that their Scripture did not extend beyond the first five books of the Hebrew canon. These books are known as the Pentateuch (Pente is five in Greek) or the Books of Moses, because tradition said that Moses wrote them. Not only did the Sadducees reduce their bible to this amount, they took a very strict and literal understanding away from it. They were literalists. As strict literalists, the Sadducees believed there was no choice but to do whatever Moses said to do. But like many strict literalists, they were also quite selective.
Their particular example comes from the book of Deuteronomy. This book, the fifth of the five Books of Moses, is one long oration by Moses (with the exception of his death which is narrated at the end. How Moses wrote that part we do not know, especially if there is no resurrection).
Now Deuteronomy contains many interesting rules and regulations from the mouth of Moses. For example, and this is important in the spring, “if you come upon a bird’s next, in any tree or on the ground, with fledglings or eggs, with the mother sitting on the fledglings or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young. Let the mother go, taking only the young for yourself, in order that it may go well with you and you may live long.” Or this, which I think may apply to some who are here. “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof; otherwise you might have bloodguilt on your house, if anyone should fall from it.” Or this one came up in my life this week. “You must not move your neighbor’s boundary marker, set up by former generations, on the property that will be allotted to you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you to possess. There is also a rule about forgiving all debt in the seventh year which is why we took out a six year mortgage.
Now do not misunderstand me. Rules are important. Rules are necessary. An established set of laws is the mark of a civilized society. My children have established very good rules and I do my best to follow them. The problem here is not entirely “the rules”. Jesus does not dispute the truth of the Sadducees claim that the seven brothers have an earthly duty. The problem here is a lack of vision. What we have here is more than a failure to communicate. We have a failure to dig more deeply and explore more broadly.
Or to put it another way—The Sadducees were only interested in the Law of Moses, but Jesus was interested in the story of Moses. Jesus’ response to the Sadducees is also taken from the Pentateuch. It comes from the book of Exodus. It is a reference to Moses standing before the burning bush and hearing the voice of God. The story of Moses begins where Exodus begins and extends for pretty much the rest of the book with a good thirty chapters or so devoted to a narrative of how Moses went from baby drifting in a basket on the Nile to VIP in Egypt to murderer and refugee to God’s chosen deliverer. This final promotion occurs at the burning bush where Moses not only receives is new assignment but also learns the name of God. God’s name is “I Am what I Am.” This is the burning bush that Jesus is talking about.
Out of the bush God invokes the lives of the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Because God is the great “I Am” otherwise translated as the great “I Will Be”, to associate his name with the patriarchs is to list them among the living, not the dead. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are not dead and gone. They are a part of God’s salvation history. Therefore, there is resurrection and—what is more—this evidence which Jesus produces comes from the Sadducees own scripture.
Jesus point, and therefore ours, is this: We must be cautious of allowing our limited understanding of Scripture stand for the whole of Scripture. We must guard against thinking our interpretations are the same for everyone. This is especially risky when we pick and choose from among Biblical scriptures—especially ones pertaining to law and regulation. The vast witness of Scripture is not law and regulation. Story is far more pronounced and far more common. Think about it. The only, and I mean the only, witness to the life and teachings of Jesus Christ in the Bible comes in the form of a story, namely the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Story has so many advantages over rules and regulations. It is easy to take rules literally. Don’t run in the hall means don’t run in the hall. But in story we get something a little more complicated, and we should be grateful for that. Unlike rules—which are meaningless to us if they do not apply to us directly in the moment—stories intersect with our experience. Even if the stories we hear are not literally true—such as the Harry Potter novels, or the Chronicles of Narnia, or my seasonal favorite, A Christmas Carol. Although not literally true, they touch on the experiences which are so true—sometimes painfully true. Always redemptively true. Of young love, of competition, of courage and heroism, of coming of age, of the need for a wise mentor, of sacrifice and the ongoing struggle between good and evil. Are the stories of Jesus true? Of course they are. But think of all the stories Jesus himself told. Was there really a prodigal son? Was there really a Samaritan who helped a wounded man on the road? Does it matter? Jesus told these stories to illustrate the rules, to give flesh to them, to make the rules real and human. And the Gospel writers told stories about Jesus for the same purpose—so that Jesus would be understood not as the ultimate hall monitor, but the Word of God, full of grace and truth.
These stories of the Bible, and particularly of Jesus, are meant to illustrate, not whether it is acceptable to remove the boundary marker on a piece of property—but the greatest rule of all—the rule of love. Love the Lord your God with all of your heart and with all of your soul, and with all of your mind, and with all of your strength. And love your neighbor as yourself. And by the way, although the Sadducees may not have paid attention to them, these commandments come from the Pentateuch as well.
Let us pray:
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—we thank you for the stories that feed our life of faith. Help us to see beyond the rules to the love that lies behind, the love you have shown us in Jesus Christ, our Lord, whose story is the greatest ever told. We pray in his name. Amen.
First Words-- November 7, 2010
Genesis 1:1-5; Mark 1:14-15
First words are critically important. They can be sentimental, as in the first words spoken by our children. I remember clearly Jamie looking at a stuffed cat Amy had sewn for Halloween. She pointed and said, “Cat”. And if I remember correctly, Aaron’s first words were “trust fund”.
First words are so important when we meet someone or, when we are young, those first words spoken to someone who has captured our heart. For those high school boys present, here is some unsolicited advice. When you see a girl at the dance and you want to make a good impression, do not approach her and ask “whose your dermatologist?” Well, at least it didn’t work for me.
We have just completed important elections and that reminds us of how important first words are in the public forum. When a candidate first announces a campaign, when a candidate makes an acceptance speech, whenever a public figure appears for the first time in a new capacity, those first words are so important. They suggest the tone, the direction, the vision. These first words are designed to reassure the audience of the hopes and dreams they are looking for. First words set the stage for all that follows.
These are my first words. I know that I was here in September for my candidate sermon but that doesn’t count. That was like the pilot episode for a new series. It doesn’t win any Emmys… you just hope to sell the series. So this is the real first time and these are my real first words and I hope not to fumble it.
So as I thought about today, about this first sermon, it occurred to me that the best model for such a thing would, or course, come from the bible. Now the most famous first words are these words from Genesis, the first book in the bible. In the Beginning. In the beginning, at the time when God began to create the heavens and the earth, there was only darkness. But God said, “Let there be light.” We should not let this moment pass without acknowledging not only that God is the creative force of the universe but how specifically that creation happens. God speaks creation into being. God speaks light into the darkness and speaks form into the void. Language is at the heart of God’s creation. Speech is the powerful creative force.
Therefore we do not take for granted the power of our words. Our words are powerful—they create joy and they create sorrow. They create hope and they create despair. This is why not only words are important, but first words especially important. There is silence, darkness, a void at the advent of creation as God’s first word is formed. And that first word is light. Before anything, there is light.
Which leads us to this question: what were Jesus’ first words? Not his first words as a child for we are not told this so we have no way of knowing. Matthew, Mark, and Luke offer us accounts of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness at which time Jesus speaks with Satan, but this is a private conversation. Jesus is baptized by John and some words are exchanged, but again, this is private. These words are not intended for public consumption. So what are Jesus’ first public words, his first official words, the first words that will set the tone and purpose of his life and mission?
The four gospels offer slightly different accounts. John chooses to begin his story of Jesus’ public life not with words but actions. Jesus turns water into wine at a wedding and therefore “revealed his glory”. In Luke’s gospel Jesus first public appearance is in his home synagogue and he reads from the prophet Isaiah—“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.” Matthew and Mark reduce this somewhat to this basic statement—Jesus first words to the waiting world—“The time has come. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Change your lives and hearts and receive this good news.”
Jesus has established his priority. These are his all important “first words”. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Join it. Over the course of his ministry Jesus, of course, has much more to say. He teaches and preaches, heals and reveals. But everything that is recorded about Jesus’ public ministry ultimately comes back to these first words—the Kingdom of God is at hand. Make the changes necessary to be a part of God’s New Creation.
Now you are a perceptive lot, to be sure, and you have no doubt noticed that I have avoided using the word “repent”, which appears in our text. To repent is not a bad thing nor is the word a bad translation. But it can be misleading or, perhaps, distracting. Repentance is commonly associated with feeling sorry. When we repent, we regret, we are sorry, we say we were wrong. There is some guilt associated with the need for “repentance. The need for forgiveness accompanies the need for repentance. But in these first words of Jesus there is no talk of forgiveness, only “repentance”. But the word here translated as repent has a more comprehensive meaning. Jesus is stating that a “re-orientation” is in order. A “re-tooling” if you will. For the Kingdom of God is so different in its emphasis and its priorities from the society into which Jesus came that it was simply not possible to live in both simultaneously.
Let us say you were invited to play a game. So you went home and put on your football helmet and your shoulder pads and your knee pads and put that black stuff under your eyes and come running back with your football. And when you got there you discovered that it was a baseball game. Now, would you feel you had to apologize for how you were dressed? No. But would you have to do something different in order to play in the baseball game? Yes. You would have to shed one set of equipment and replace it with another more suited to the game. This is what Jesus is saying with his first words. The game has changed. You are no longer dressed appropriately. Go home and change. Join the game.
Now I will grant you that, in my illustration, if you plowed over the short stop and the second baseman on your way into right field where you spiked your ball and declared a touchdown, you would have much to answer for. And as time goes on and the gospel unfolds, there are many whom Jesus meets who refuse to join the game. Repentance as regret is not irrelevant, and forgiveness is a hallmark of the new “game” Jesus is bringing. But the point is this: Jesus only has one chance to make a first impression. And that first impression, as Mark and Matthew tell it anyway, is this: The time of the Kingdom of God is at hand. Make a choice. Hear the good news. Be part of God’s new creation.
As these are my “first words”, my first public statement as your Lead Pastor, I am happy to rely on these great models. In fact, I should rely on them, for what is our task if it is not Jesus’ task? What is our orientation to the world if not the orientation God directs us toward? What are our words if they are not Jesus’ words? What we are about here, at the First Presbyterian Church Salina, is the Kingdom of God. We are interested in changing hearts and lives and in having our hearts and lives constantly renewed for God’s good purposes.
Now first words are not last words. Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God but took several chapters of Gospel to flesh out what the Kingdom of God is. And I use the phrase, flesh out, deliberately. In the beginning when God spoke the first words of creation, he called for light. In the Gospel of John this same set of "first words" are employed, but with a different emphasis. In the beginning was the Word. And the word became flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth. What was in this word that become flesh was light. That light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.
In the beginning God said let there be light. In the beginning was the Word, the Word that became flesh. The Word that was the light. Isn’t that fabulous? The connection? The continuity? God spoke creation into being. And Jesus, himself, is the spoken word of God, what Paul calls the New Creation In the beginning God called for light. God brought the light—Jesus Christ—to lighten the darkness. Words. First Words. Words becoming flesh. Words to bring light in the darkness.
We are to use our words to bring light, to shed light, to be the light and participate in the Kingdom of God in all of its splendor and wonder. The time is at hand. The Kingdom of God has come near. Change your hearts and lives and believe in this good news. Or, said more simply. Let there be light.
Let us pray:
We thank you, Lord, for your Word, Jesus Christ. For the kingdom he came to proclaim. For your Holy Spirit which breathes in us your grace and peace. Grant that we may set our course together to fulfill your will, be a light to others, and to build up the body of Christ for your dear sake as ours. Amen.
First words are critically important. They can be sentimental, as in the first words spoken by our children. I remember clearly Jamie looking at a stuffed cat Amy had sewn for Halloween. She pointed and said, “Cat”. And if I remember correctly, Aaron’s first words were “trust fund”.
First words are so important when we meet someone or, when we are young, those first words spoken to someone who has captured our heart. For those high school boys present, here is some unsolicited advice. When you see a girl at the dance and you want to make a good impression, do not approach her and ask “whose your dermatologist?” Well, at least it didn’t work for me.
We have just completed important elections and that reminds us of how important first words are in the public forum. When a candidate first announces a campaign, when a candidate makes an acceptance speech, whenever a public figure appears for the first time in a new capacity, those first words are so important. They suggest the tone, the direction, the vision. These first words are designed to reassure the audience of the hopes and dreams they are looking for. First words set the stage for all that follows.
These are my first words. I know that I was here in September for my candidate sermon but that doesn’t count. That was like the pilot episode for a new series. It doesn’t win any Emmys… you just hope to sell the series. So this is the real first time and these are my real first words and I hope not to fumble it.
So as I thought about today, about this first sermon, it occurred to me that the best model for such a thing would, or course, come from the bible. Now the most famous first words are these words from Genesis, the first book in the bible. In the Beginning. In the beginning, at the time when God began to create the heavens and the earth, there was only darkness. But God said, “Let there be light.” We should not let this moment pass without acknowledging not only that God is the creative force of the universe but how specifically that creation happens. God speaks creation into being. God speaks light into the darkness and speaks form into the void. Language is at the heart of God’s creation. Speech is the powerful creative force.
Therefore we do not take for granted the power of our words. Our words are powerful—they create joy and they create sorrow. They create hope and they create despair. This is why not only words are important, but first words especially important. There is silence, darkness, a void at the advent of creation as God’s first word is formed. And that first word is light. Before anything, there is light.
Which leads us to this question: what were Jesus’ first words? Not his first words as a child for we are not told this so we have no way of knowing. Matthew, Mark, and Luke offer us accounts of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness at which time Jesus speaks with Satan, but this is a private conversation. Jesus is baptized by John and some words are exchanged, but again, this is private. These words are not intended for public consumption. So what are Jesus’ first public words, his first official words, the first words that will set the tone and purpose of his life and mission?
The four gospels offer slightly different accounts. John chooses to begin his story of Jesus’ public life not with words but actions. Jesus turns water into wine at a wedding and therefore “revealed his glory”. In Luke’s gospel Jesus first public appearance is in his home synagogue and he reads from the prophet Isaiah—“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.” Matthew and Mark reduce this somewhat to this basic statement—Jesus first words to the waiting world—“The time has come. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Change your lives and hearts and receive this good news.”
Jesus has established his priority. These are his all important “first words”. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Join it. Over the course of his ministry Jesus, of course, has much more to say. He teaches and preaches, heals and reveals. But everything that is recorded about Jesus’ public ministry ultimately comes back to these first words—the Kingdom of God is at hand. Make the changes necessary to be a part of God’s New Creation.
Now you are a perceptive lot, to be sure, and you have no doubt noticed that I have avoided using the word “repent”, which appears in our text. To repent is not a bad thing nor is the word a bad translation. But it can be misleading or, perhaps, distracting. Repentance is commonly associated with feeling sorry. When we repent, we regret, we are sorry, we say we were wrong. There is some guilt associated with the need for “repentance. The need for forgiveness accompanies the need for repentance. But in these first words of Jesus there is no talk of forgiveness, only “repentance”. But the word here translated as repent has a more comprehensive meaning. Jesus is stating that a “re-orientation” is in order. A “re-tooling” if you will. For the Kingdom of God is so different in its emphasis and its priorities from the society into which Jesus came that it was simply not possible to live in both simultaneously.
Let us say you were invited to play a game. So you went home and put on your football helmet and your shoulder pads and your knee pads and put that black stuff under your eyes and come running back with your football. And when you got there you discovered that it was a baseball game. Now, would you feel you had to apologize for how you were dressed? No. But would you have to do something different in order to play in the baseball game? Yes. You would have to shed one set of equipment and replace it with another more suited to the game. This is what Jesus is saying with his first words. The game has changed. You are no longer dressed appropriately. Go home and change. Join the game.
Now I will grant you that, in my illustration, if you plowed over the short stop and the second baseman on your way into right field where you spiked your ball and declared a touchdown, you would have much to answer for. And as time goes on and the gospel unfolds, there are many whom Jesus meets who refuse to join the game. Repentance as regret is not irrelevant, and forgiveness is a hallmark of the new “game” Jesus is bringing. But the point is this: Jesus only has one chance to make a first impression. And that first impression, as Mark and Matthew tell it anyway, is this: The time of the Kingdom of God is at hand. Make a choice. Hear the good news. Be part of God’s new creation.
As these are my “first words”, my first public statement as your Lead Pastor, I am happy to rely on these great models. In fact, I should rely on them, for what is our task if it is not Jesus’ task? What is our orientation to the world if not the orientation God directs us toward? What are our words if they are not Jesus’ words? What we are about here, at the First Presbyterian Church Salina, is the Kingdom of God. We are interested in changing hearts and lives and in having our hearts and lives constantly renewed for God’s good purposes.
Now first words are not last words. Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God but took several chapters of Gospel to flesh out what the Kingdom of God is. And I use the phrase, flesh out, deliberately. In the beginning when God spoke the first words of creation, he called for light. In the Gospel of John this same set of "first words" are employed, but with a different emphasis. In the beginning was the Word. And the word became flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and truth. What was in this word that become flesh was light. That light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.
In the beginning God said let there be light. In the beginning was the Word, the Word that became flesh. The Word that was the light. Isn’t that fabulous? The connection? The continuity? God spoke creation into being. And Jesus, himself, is the spoken word of God, what Paul calls the New Creation In the beginning God called for light. God brought the light—Jesus Christ—to lighten the darkness. Words. First Words. Words becoming flesh. Words to bring light in the darkness.
We are to use our words to bring light, to shed light, to be the light and participate in the Kingdom of God in all of its splendor and wonder. The time is at hand. The Kingdom of God has come near. Change your hearts and lives and believe in this good news. Or, said more simply. Let there be light.
Let us pray:
We thank you, Lord, for your Word, Jesus Christ. For the kingdom he came to proclaim. For your Holy Spirit which breathes in us your grace and peace. Grant that we may set our course together to fulfill your will, be a light to others, and to build up the body of Christ for your dear sake as ours. Amen.
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