John 2:12-25

“A new community”

I have a confession to make. Large buildings and big numbers in the church have always made at least a positive first impression on me. A little more than thirty years ago, a congregation in Garden Grove, California moved into its new building. It was called the Crystal Cathedral and it had seating for 2700 people. The leader of that congregation was Robert Schuller. His preaching didn’t do much for me, but I admit I was impressed by the grandeur of the building and the size of the congregation.
Last November, a bankruptcy judge approved the sale of the cash-strapped Crystal Cathedral to the Catholic Diocese of Orange County. According to reports, the Protestant congregation will lease the sanctuary for worship for another three years, after which the Catholic Diocese plans to remodel the interior of the building so that it can be used as their cathedral and the home of their bishop.
Scott Thumma, a sociologist of religion at Hartford Seminary said “the huge debt that led officials of the Southern California ministry to accept the sale of their 35-acre campus reflects what happens when a prominent pastor, a television ministry, or an iconic structure becomes the focal point. Leaders retire and die; television gives the congregation an unrealistic larger-than-life image; and buildings become a drag on finances.”
In other words, churches can focus on the wrong things; or, as the early church did, on the right things. As you are able, please stand as we hear the word of God read from Acts 2:37-47.
Let us pray. Living God, help us so to hear your Word that we may truly understand; that, understanding, we may believe; and believing, we may follow your way in all faithfulness, seeking your honor and glory in all that we do. Amen.
I suspect Luke knew exactly what he was doing when, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he described the four-sided focus on the early church. Once again today, I think it is helpful to be reminded that the audience for this book written by Luke is not the church of the early 30’s A. D., but the church that exists some 40 years later. As one reads the story of that particular Pentecost celebration, there is a temptation to think that life in the church is going to be a trip from one mountain top to another. The Spirit comes to the church, pilgrims are confronted by the wonderful news of God’s plan for redemption and 3,000 are added to heaven’s family that day. What do they do next? They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
It appears these four things are rather ordinary, even mundane, when compared to the excitement of the mountain top sort of experience. There is however, a different way to look at it. Think of any aspect of life, your profession, your hobbies, your relationships and I believe you will find this principle applies—the mountain top is only reached when one has made adequate preparation and provided a firm foundation. Years ago I heard a concert pianist, I believe it was Horowitz, who said something like this: “I practiced eight hours a day for twenty years. Now they call me a genius.” Luke is telling us there are mountain tops to attain in the Christian life but only when adequate preparation is made, only when a firm foundation is provided.
It is possible to argue that all four aspects of the Christian life to which the early church was devoted are equally important. I can’t dispute that; but I can tell you that both my heart and my head say the apostles’ teaching is first among equals. If you have your Bible with you or one of the pew Bibles open, flip back one page to verses 21 and 22 of chapter one. Someone is being chosen to replace Judas. The starting point for this choice is described by Peter: So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day he was taken up from us—one of these must become a witness with us to his resurrection.”
What did the apostles teach? They taught that God had focussed all the promises of his Word in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, and that God had confirmed this Jesus as the Messiah or Christ by raising him from the dead. The apostles were witnesses to his resurrection. This, friends, is the primary reason, for example, that we worship on the first day of the week and not the seventh as our Jewish ancestors did and as Jews still do today. The first day of the week is resurrection day. Every Sunday is a little Easter. The early church believed it was absolutely vital for every Christian to devote him or herself to the knowledge that God had made good on his Word and Jesus was the proof.
There is more to the church though than teaching and preaching. I found this out years ago when the pastor of our church decided it was time to serve somewhere else. Our family got news of his resignation when we were at the cottage in July. By the time September rolled around it was obvious that it wasn’t just George who had left. All the people who were members of George had also left. The second thing folks were devoted to in the early church was fellowship.
This is more than pot luck dinners or sandwiches with the crusts cut off. William Barclay says the early church had a great quality of togetherness. The common life of the early church was more than friendship but it certainly included that wonderful aspect. Willimon puts it this way in his commentary: “Some have remarked that the real miracle of Pentecost is to be found here—that from so diverse assemblage of people from every nation under heaven (2:5) a unified body of believers is formed.”
If there is a practical need among them, it’s taken care of. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Again, following a suggestion of Will Willimon, it appears what is going on in the early church is people took seriously the idea that they were to embody the promises of God. In other words, if God had promised something, and Jesus was the fulfillment of those promises, and they were the ones who, through Jesus, had joined in on what God was up to, then they had to live out the implications of being part of this new thing. In Deuteronomy 15:4 God had promised a land free of poverty if only God’s people would live in obedience to him. So if God blessed me, God did that not in order for me to hoard, but in order for me to share with those who were now part of my spiritual family.
You see, the Wall Street and the St. James Park Occupiers are right—there is a sinfully unequal distribution of wealth in our world. The remedy for that sin may in part be political, but in part any remedy that actually works must include the spiritual aspect of our lives. We must come to understand that we are part of a new family; that’s who needs us to share with them. This fellowship is more than eating, but it includes the breaking of bread.
It is my opinion that the breaking of bread refers to a number of activities that were part of this church’s life. I think it’s a bit of a moving target. In the infancy of the church, I am certain it refers to the practice of eating together and to sharing in what we would recognize as the Communion or Lord’s Supper as part of a meal.
The reason I talk about a moving target is that by the time Luke writes this book some 40 years after the resurrection, the breaking of bread would also refer to something that had been quite a shock at the beginning; that is table fellowship that included everyone. It is true that right from Pentecost the church had included people from many nations, but at the beginning all of them had been Jews. Luke, of course, is himself a non-Jew and was no doubt part of this life-changing coming together of all who followed Jesus.
There is one other aspect to mention here. Do you remember the story of the two disciples who were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus on Easter evening. Jesus, risen from the dead, joined them on their walk and spoke with them. They did not recognize him until he broke bread with them. This aspect of church life is not them primarily about eating together, but about what is possible in the church because Jesus is alive and in our midst.
There is one more thing. They were devoted also to the prayers. I want to share something Tom Wright says in his commentary on our text.
Where no attention is given to teaching, and to constant, lifelong Christian learning, people quickly revert to the worldview or mindset of the surrounding culture, and end up with their minds shaped by whichever social pressures are most persuasive, with Jesus somewhere around as a pale influence or memory. Where people ignore the common life of the Christian family, they become isolated, and often find it difficult to sustain a living faith. Where people no longer share regularly in ‘the breaking of bread,’ they are failing to raise the flag which says Jesus death and resurrection are the centre of everything. And whenever people do all these things but neglect prayer, they are quite simply forgetting that Christians are supposed to be heaven-and-earth people. Prayer makes no sense whatever—unless heaven and earth are designed to be joined together, and we can share in that already (Acts for Everyone, Part One, 44-45).
Once again, I think it likely that Luke had more than one thing in mind when he described this aspect of the life of the church. Faithful Jews had three designated times of prayer each day—morning, about 9 o’clock, afternoon, about 3 o’clock, and in the evening at sundown. I suspect what happened in the early church was something like this. At first the Christians simply continued to pray at these specific times. They prayed also when they came together on the first day of the week. As the Christian movement became separate from Judaism, those who believed in Jesus as their Saviour continued to pray at specific times of the day, to pray as part of worship and to pray continually as part of their relationship with the Father. To use Tom Wright’s language, the believers prayed because they knew Christians are supposed to be heaven-and-earth people.
In 2,000 years everything has changed and nothing has changed. If we are truly the church, we proclaim the resurrection, we embody, we live out the promises of God, we recognize Jesus is alive within the church and we connect heaven to earth through our prayers. If that’s who we are at Blythwood, then this is church.

“What time is it?”

Let’s deal first with this matter of the title—The Acts of The Apostles. It is at very least an unfortunate title and at worst misleading. William Barclay, that great Scottish New Testament scholar, points out “the book neither gives nor claims to give an exhaustive account of the acts of the apostles. Apart from Paul only three apostles are mentioned in it.” We are told that James the brother of John was executed by Herod. John is mentioned but never says anything. We are told much about Peter early on in the book but then, as a leading character, he passes from the scene. Barclay goes on: “in the Greek there is no The before Acts; the correct title is Acts of Apostolic Men.” However what we are going to see today, and in the weeks to come, is that the best title for this book is The Actions of the Holy Spirit.
Our text today is the first eleven verses of the book. As you are able, please stand as we hear the word of God read.
Let us pray. Prepare our hearts, O God, to accept your Word. Silence in us any voices but your own, so that we may hear your Word and also do it; through Christ our Lord. Amen.
We will begin with some housekeeping. First of all, let me underline that in addition to the Sunday morning sermons, our Fellowship Groups are studying Acts. There is a study guide available. If you don’t have yours yet, they will be available at the groups this week. Groups are meeting (fill in details). If you are not part of a group, let me encourage you to try it out for the next ten weeks.
 Now some basics about the book. Acts is the second volume of a set of two books produced by the man we know as Luke. He is the author of the third gospel, which is also directed to someone named Theophilus. We believe this is a real person, but we don’t know if that is a real name. Theophilus means “friend of God,” and it is possible that given there were times and places in the world of the early church that it was a dangerous thing to be a follower of Jesus, that this name is an alias. It is also apparent from the first verse of this book that Luke thinks of this volume as continuing the story that he began in his gospel. Luke, in fact, connects the two by telling the story of the Ascension at the end of one and the beginning of the other.
Today I want to focus our attention on this question: what time is it for the followers of Jesus? Keep that question close as we consider what goes on in the time between the resurrection and the ascension. We are talking about forty days, about the disciples becoming convinced of the resurrection and about them being taught by Jesus.
Forty is an important number in the Bible. It rained for forty days and nights when Noah was in the ark with his family and the collection of animals. Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years. Moses spent forty days on the mountain when he received God’s commandments.
Luke has already told us that there was some vital information that could only be communicated after the resurrection. There is the well-known story in Luke 24 about the two disciples who meet up with someone they do not recognize on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures (24:27). The only conclusion that I think we can come to is this: there was a dual purpose to the resurrection appearances that took place over those forty days. The first was to convince the disciples that Jesus was in fact alive. Think about it this way: last Sunday you were on your way to church and as you turned at the corner of Blythwood and Mount Pleasant, you thought you saw me. When you arrived here, you said something to David about seeing me taking a walk and David said it must be some other handsome fellow because “Bill is out of town.” We make mistakes like that all the time. So imagine if you are one of the disciples and you catch a glimpse of someone you know is dead. You quickly assume you have made a mistake or it was some sort of hallucination. For the disciples to be convinced of resurrection, Jesus had to appear on more than one occasion.
The second purpose of those appearances is to teach the disciples about the kingdom of God. Luke gives us a clue as to why this was so vital during the forty days. Remember that question you were keeping close? What time is it for the followers of Jesus? Have a look at verse six of our text. “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” What time is it Jesus? Is it not the time for you to restore the greatness of David’s empire? Is it not the time for you to organize an army and free God’s people from subjection to Rome? Notice the order of things here, friends. Jesus has been teaching about the kingdom for forty days and they are still asking questions about earthly power instead of spiritual strength. Jesus had to be sure that a foundation was laid which would allow these disciples to participate in what God was actually doing rather than wish away their time imagining the positions of influence and power they would have in a kingdom of their design.
What time is it for the followers of Jesus? It is the time to rely on the Spirit to give the power and direction for witness. “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” It is the time of witnessing for the followers of Jesus. What is this witness? It is that in the crucified and risen Jesus, God is bringing about the fulfillment of God’s promises and plans. God through Jesus the Messiah is extending his kingdom from this little place called Palestine and this little nation called Israel to the whole of the world. The story of these witnesses is to be told in every widening circles that are meant to be understood both geographically and culturally. It begins in Jerusalem to be sure; and of course it includes all the Jews; but this kingdom story is to be told to Samaritans, a people of mixed race and then to the ends of the earth. This is what happens.Barclay in his commentary quotes a scholar named C. H. Turner who suggests that Acts falls into six panels, each one ending with what might be called a progress report. Have a look at each of these:
6:7 — The word of God continued to spread; the number of the disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem,  and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith.
9:31 — Meanwhile the church throughout Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had peace and was built up. Living in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers.
12:24 — But the word of God continued to advance and gain adherents.
16:5 — So the churches were strengthened in the faith and increased in numbers daily.
19:20 — So the word of the Lord grew mightily and prevailed.
The book ends with this picture of Paul, describing him as proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hinderance (28:31).
Do you see what Luke is up to in that ending? It’s not much of an ending is it? Exactly right; it’s not much of an ending, because Luke had in mind that there would be more needing to be told about those who were followers of Jesus, who understood that this was the time for followers of Jesus to rely on the Spirit to give power and direction for witness. If I understand correctly what is being said here, then the time has not changed. It is still the same time for us, a time to rely on the Spirit to give power and direction for witness.
Just before we finish for today, have a look at the last three verses of our text. I have no idea what the weather was like on that day, but after last summer, I hear that statement about the cloud in a new way. Chris and I spent a wonderful week in Greece, three days in Athens, four days cruising from one island paradise to another. Day after day of cloudless skies. Being an Ontario boy, I didn’t know such days existed. You know the expression: “if you don’t like the weather here, hang around for half-an-hour; it’s bound to change.” I think the cloud is meant to tell followers of Jesus there are some things that we are not meant to look for within this life. Just in case we don’t get it, the angels ask us why we are just standing around looking up to heaven. Jesus is going to come back, they say, but our role is not to stand around watching and waiting for it to happen. What time is it for us? It is still time to tell the story of Jesus and let the world know that in him God’s Kingdom is at work.
What time is it now? What time is it for Blythwood? I suppose one ought not to give away the content of a sermon series on the first Sunday. Some of you might decide there was no need to come back until Lent begins. But here is what I believe we are going to discover. In the 2,000 years since Luke recorded his story of Jesus’ followers telling their story, everything about the church has changed, except this one most crucial thing. The time has not changed. It is time for the church to make sure the story is still getting told.

“A right-side-up-church”

Acts 17 is where we find that famous assessment of what the Christians are up to: “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also…” Last Sunday I suggested that Dr. Luke had structured the whole of the chapter around one phrase, “what must I do to get out of this mess?” I think our guide to the missionary activity of Paul and his companions has followed the same sort of structure this time. In talking about what happens in Thessalonica and Beroea and Athens, Luke is giving us a picture of what it means to have an upside down world turned right side up. 
Our text today is the beginning of the story. We will hear about the reaction to God’s good news among some in Thessalonica. The reading is Acts17:1–9. Let us pray. O Holy Spirit of God, ever challenging, ever reforming, ever seeking to turn the world toward your righteous Kingdom, may we hear your word and begin to make the right-side-up turns necessary in our lives. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
When we last saw Paul and Silas, they were the guests of honour at a midnight party celebrating that God’s salvation had come to the home of the jail warden in Philippi. The next morning, the magistrates discover they have committed a significant judicial error. They had had these two Christian preachers publicly beaten before they had been convicted of any crime. Paul lets them know that he and Silas are Roman citizens. The beating was illegal. The magistrates come to the prison and deliver an apology to Paul and Silas. They also ask them to leave the city. These two missionaries stay long enough to give a word of encouragement to the church in Philippi and then they’re off.
One of the things we know about the Romans is that they were great builders of roads. Philippi and Thes-salonica were on the road known as the Egnatian Way. Here we have one of those rather delightful “coincidences” that crop up from time to time when God is doing his work. The Romans built great roads in order to accommodate the movement of their armies and to stimulate economic growth in the empire. Little did those road-building-emperors know that they were also contributing to the spread of the news that the world in fact owed its allegiance to someone else. God is at work even when it appears not to be so.
The trip takes Paul and Silas through Amphipolis and Apollonia before they reach Thessalonica, one of the wealthiest and most influential cities in Macedonia. Dr. Luke reports on Paul’s preaching at the synagogue in Thessalonica, where he taught on three sabbath days. Notice the emphasis that Luke gives us—that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and to rise from the dead.
Here’s the first spot where I want to spend some time today. Those of you who know me and have heard me preach over a few years or even a few months will, I think, have come to the conclusion that at least in sermons I try to choose my words carefully. (In off-the-cuff remarks, not so much; but that is another story.)
Hopefully I can be clear: Paul intended to communicate that anyone who searched the scriptures, that is what we call the Old Testament, with an open heart and mind, would discover that somehow the suffering and death of the Messiah was according to the plan and purposes of God.
Some of you will know, as I do, Christians who have come to the conclusion that the crucifixion of Jesus was a horrible mistake and that God in his sovereignty managed to bring the best out of a bad situation. There is a sense, I think, that both opinions can end up in the same place, but there is no doubt which side of the argument Paul is on.
N. T. Wright, the former Anglican Bishop of Durham and now a professor at St. Andrew’s University in Scotland says Paul is asking his listeners  to consider the whole sweep of the story of God’s involvement in the life of his people. Israel as a nation becomes the slave labour of Egypt only to be rescued at Passover by the mighty hand of God. King David, having made some huge errors of judgement, is on the run from his son Absalom and heavily outnumbered; yet victory is snatched from what appeared to be certain defeat. The city of Jerusalem, the place where Solomon built a great Temple dedicated to the worship of God, is destroyed and God’s people are taken captive to Babylon, only to be brought back and their city rebuilt. In other words, this theme of death and resurrection is not new to the story of God’s people, it is instead the underlying theme of their entire history.
His torture and shameful death at the hands of the Romans was not a surprise. Look to the prophet Isaiah to see a picture of what Messiah was to be: But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed (Isaiah 53:5). Friends, here is my take on this idea. There is something about our human nature that resists the idea of God giving life to us as a free gift. Instinctively we want to earn it, to think we have deserved it. Perhaps it is only when God brings life out of death, light out of darkness, hope out of despair that we will admit it is only God who can do this and only God who can give us what we need. The death and resurrection of Messiah was necessary in order that we might have salvation.
Who then is this Messiah? Who is this Jesus? He is the one who is and will be king of creation. This brings us to verse 7 of our text. They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus. Make no mistake: the enemies of the church have it right. The first Christians did proclaim that the kingdom of God had begun in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. This was a serious thing. Let me try to make this idea a bit clearer.
I realize that there are some in the congregation who think the whole business of the monarchy is silly at best. Having said that, until further notice (which I don’t expect in my lifetime) Canada’s head of state is Queen Elizabeth II and her heirs. We know that upon the death of the Queen, Prince Charles will become King and his son, William will be installed as Prince of Wales, the title traditionally given to the heir to the throne. It is not in any way illegal to speak of such things. One cannot even be arrested for suggesting that England and the Commonwealth skip Charles in favour of his much loved son, William and his wife of one year, Kate.
Such was not the case in Rome. Do you know about the year of four emperors? In A. D. 68 Nero committed suicide. The next year, in addition to his successor in Rome, three other men were declared emperor in far-flung places of the empire. Rome frowned on anyone who spoke of another king. Even the mention that this king was soon coming was regarded as a prediction of the emperor’s demise and thereby considered treason. As one child put it, the last book of the Bible is “Revolutions.” Not as far off the mark as we might think.
This Jesus fulfills the plan of God. This Jesus is the one who claims the ultimate loyalty of his people. Yes it is God’s intention to turn this upside down world right side up through this one who is our now and future King—which leads to a last point.
When the mob dragged a man named Jason and some of the believers before the magistrates they talked about the world being turned upside down. The word used in the original is ?????µ???? (pronounced oikoumene). You might know or guess that this is the root of our word economics. The enemies of the church were not afraid that the followers of Jesus were wanting to introduce another religious cult into the mix of first century spirituality. They were afraid that what they had in mind was turning the whole of the world on its head. They were right! The first Christians believed the world was heading horribly wrong and that God’s plan, revealed in Jesus, was to turn the world back to the right or back to the righteous ways of God.
Friends, one of the discussions or debates that has been part of the church’s life during most of the time I have been a pastor is the whole matter of how familiar and comfortable the church ought to be for the spiritual seeker, for the first time guest. In my mind the ultimate expression of one side of this debate is The Meeting House, which has its home church in Oakville. But if I want to attend The Meeting House in Toronto I can go on Sunday morning to the Silver City Cinema at Yorkdale where one of their regional churches meets. There I will see and hear on the big screen the sermon that was preached the previous Sunday in Oakville. I assume part of the idea is going to church is not much different than going to the movies.
It will not likely come as a huge shock to anyone that the guy in the jacket and tie who still wears a clergy robe on occasion does not think being completely comfortable in church ought to  be our number one goal. One of my clergy heroes, Will Willimon, was once told by a new worshipper at the Duke Chapel that he found the whole experience a bit strange. Willimon thought that was a good thing because the whole idea of church is that we are to be the place where turning the world right-side-up gets started. This may sound to you as pastorally insensitive but if you are quite comfortable in the world I hope you do find Blythwood Church to take a little getting used to.
Church, let’s be strangely welcoming to anyone. Let’s be strangely generous with our time and money. Let’s be strangely dependent on prayer. Let’s be strangely insistent that our ultimate loyalty is to Jesus, our living Lord, our coming King. Turning the world up-side-down? Absolutely not! Let’s turn it right-side-up.

Two Weddings

Behold the Lamb of God

When Heaven \Came Down

Who Are You?

The text gives us no reason at all to suspect David’s sincerity or motives. I think it likely appeared reasonable to him that if he was in a palace, a permanent structure, that there ought to be more than a tent within which the worship of God was focussed. However, I think it is valid to recognize that God knows the heart and to infer from what God says that perhaps David’s motives are somewhat mixed. After all, one of the ways in which an ancient ruler told his nation that he was worthy of all the accolades that came his way was to build a temple where the god of the nation could be worshipped. One of the reasons we still today remember that scoundrel Herod the Great was because he was a builder; among his accomplishments was significant rebuilding and restoration of the Jerusalem Temple. The West or Wailing Wall is the one piece of that Temple still standing.

There was an amusing news bit on CBC in June. A time capsule was opened at the Saskatchewan Legislature. It contained an unnamed photograph and no one there could identify the man. CBC picked up the story and showed the photograph one night on The National. A woman in Windsor saw the story and said, “That’s my grandfather.” The man in the photo was Franklin Robinson, Deputy Minister of Public Works in Saskatchewan at that time and the person in charge of assembling the contents for the capsule. The speculation is that he secretly added his own photo. One hundred years later he gets his fifteen minutes of fame. Herod would say, “Child’s play. Will they still be talking about you, Frank, in another 1900 years?”

Yet, God says, if a name is truly going to be made, then this must be done by God. We’ll come back to this in a few minutes but let’s take a look first at the other promises.

God says, “And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly…” Let me try out something with you. As I kicked this idea around, it occurred to me that perhaps David was confusing the place of God and the place of humanity. Here’s what I mean—perhaps God thought David was leaning in the direction of confining the divine. “My people and I are going to build a place where God will put down some roots, where the divine will be domesticated.”

God reminds David that he’s in danger of getting it backwards. Human beings are tied to places. This example may sound silly, but even its silliness proves my point. Chris and I do not have a cottage; or to be more correct, we do not have a cottage for 358 days each year. But during the first week of July there’s a cottage on Otty Lake at Cathie and George Salter’s that belongs to us. From the second time we were there it felt like we had put down roots. Humans like to do that.

That is not what we want God to do. As I have said on many occasions, a god that can be defined by my intellect is not worthy of devotion. But the same can be said for a god who can be localized or thought of as the god of a particular nation or denomination. Let me be quite clear: I believe in the God of the universe who has revealed himself as Creator, Saviour and Spirit. That’s not a God who should settle down, that’s a God who should stay on the move. It’s God then who will build a place—more on that in a few minutes.

God says, “I will not take away my steadfast love…” Could it be that God detects in David that all-to-common human inclination?—if I could just do (fill-in the-blank) then I would deserve the love of God. Do you remember the story of Samuel being told by God to go to the home of Jesse and anoint one of his sons as the next king of Israel? David was the runt of the litter. It’s an amusing picture. Samuel has run through all of the sons presented to him by Jesse and finally asks him if there are any others. David is brought in from tending the sheep and God says, “that’s the one.” I can’t imagine that David did not have a sense that he had been blessed by God beyond what anyone could imagine. But perhaps he thought, if I could move God from the tent to a Temple, that would make me worthy. God tells David that his steadfast love is not for sale, not something to be earned, but only something to be accepted.

Worship with all your heart

When there is a war over worship, does anyone win? It is truly a horrifying concept, isn’t it—the worship wars? It implies that when Christians go to battle over worship content and style that there will be victors and the vanquished and that somehow in the whole process God will be honoured. So much of it is a matter of taste and yet there is more to it than just that.

For my study break this year I attended the Festival of Homiletics in Atlanta, Georgia. Homiletics is just the 25-cent word for preaching. This event gathered more than a thousand preachers and teachers of preaching for four days of sermons and lectures. I know it sounds like a slice of hell for everyone but me; I thought it took me a little closer to heaven. Especially Thursday night, which was Ascension Day. This festival is rarely observed in most churches; it is ten days before Pentecost, therefore it is always on a Thursday. The church was packed—my guess would be there were at least 1500 in attendance. Ascension celebrates Jesus leaving earth for heaven and those who put the worship together wanted us to have a sense of being lifted up emotionally and spiritually. It certainly worked for me. Musical elements of worship were taken from works of Franz Joseph Haydn. The anthem was the Hallelujah from Beethoven’s Christ on the Mount of Olives, a glorious piece sometimes called the “other” Hallelujah Chorus. All of this was accompanied by not only the church organ but also by musicians from the Atlanta Symphony. 

I was deeply moved by the experience, but on the way back to the hotel, an Anglican pastor from Winnipeg said it was a little too “high church” for him. I couldn’t help but think that perhaps my tastes in worship music were becoming just a bit too narrow. But surely the point of it all is that sense of being drawn closer to God. It seems to me that’s what is being said in the story of the Ark of the Covenant being brought to Jerusalem.

Let’s have a look at the story. Some background here will be helpful. Do you remember when we first hear of Samuel? As a child he is brought to the priest Eli in order to serve him at the tabernacle or tent of meeting. During this time Israel and the Philistines are at war and during one of the battles the two sons of Eli are killed and the Ark of the Covenant, the gold box that contained the two stones on which the Ten Commandments were written, was captured. When Eli heard the news he too died.

The Ark of the Covenant was briefly in the hands of the Philistines who then sent it back to Israel. It was kept by a man named Abinadab. The Ark remains with him for some 20 years. As far as we know Samuel never attempted to retrieve it; nor did Saul. It is David who thinks the Ark ought to be restored to its place as a focus for the worship of God in Israel.

The king takes a cart to the house of Abinadab. He must also have musicians with him because we are told David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals (2 Samuel 6:5). At some point in the journey to Jerusalem there’s a problem. All of us can imagine it: there’s a bumpy spot in the road, or the oxen pulling the cart don’t take a turn smoothly. It looks as if the Ark might fall to the ground. One of the sons of house; someone named Obed-edom becomes the caretaker for the Ark. It stays with him for three months.

Those were three months of blessing says our text. We don’t know exactly what David was doing during that time, but let me do some of that speculating that I enjoy so much. I think once David had allowed his emotions to cool down he said to his advisors, “What went wrong?” I suspect David was told something like this. When you made the decision to bring the Ark back to Jerusalem, you asked what method had been used to transport it to the house of Abinadab. You were told the Philistines put it on a cart pulled by two cows. At that point one of two things, I think, must have happened. Either David did not think to ask if this was the method prescribed by God for moving the Ark, or he did ask and decided the cart method was more efficient.

His emotions having cooled off, David now thinks either he should check out the method prescribed by God for moving the Ark, or he decides he should have never ignored God’s direction in the first place. You see, God had made it quite clear that the Ark of the Covenant was never to be touched. It was constructed with brackets through which poles were inserted. Once the poles were in place, those Levites entrusted with the task were to lift the poles to their shoulders and carry the Ark wherever it was going (Numbers 4:5–15).

David is now confident that he can bring the Ark to Jerusalem because he is now ready to do so in the way that God describes. But now we come to the part of the story that, if we are honest, we find quite troubling.

Here are the pertinent parts of our text:
Verse 14: David danced before the Lord with all his might; David was girded with a linen ephod.
Verse 16: As the ark of the Lord came into the city of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window, and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.
Verse 20: David returned to bless his household. But Michal the daughter of Saul came out to meet David, and said, “How the King of Israel honoured himself today, uncovering himself today before the eyes of his servants’ maids, as any vulgar fellow might shamelessly uncover himself.”

There are likely a bunch of things going on here. Notice that the text refers to Michal as the daughter Abinadad, reaches out to steady the Ark. The writer is not sure how to describe what happened—there’s an outburst from God and Uzzah is struck dead. David is obviously stunned by this and becomes afraid. I assume he looked for the nearest of Saul. That particular designation strikes me as important because there is not much left of Saul’s family and Michal is David’s wife. I assume that part of what’s going on here is that as Michal sees David uniting the nation around both his leadership and the worship of their Lord and God, that she felt a bitterness regarding the rejection of Saul as king. Her sarcastic criticism centres, though, on the enthusiasm of David’s worship.

In The Message paraphrase, this is how Eugene Peterson interprets Michal’s greeting to David: “How wonderfully the king has distinguished himself today—exposing himself to the eyes of the servants’ maids like some burlesque street dancer!” There is no way we can know how much skin David ended up showing. Was it an arm, a leg, a bit of his thigh? No matter what it is, we are at very least surprised by the story. The Lord strikes dead a man who puts his hand on the Ark to save it from falling off the cart, but is somehow honoured by the uninhibited gyrations of the partially dressed king. Let’s face it, if you didn’t know the story and I told you only that one of the characters ended up dead, at least 50% of us would guess it was the dancing fool. You know I’m right. Had I arranged to have a dancer interpret today’s story for us, the Chairman of the Board of Deacons would have received at least one call this afternoon—“Hello, Marion, some of us at lunch were discussing whether that dancing was appropriate for worship. It’s bad enough that it’s in the Bible and we have to hear about it. No one wants to see that sort of thing.”

What then is being said in this story that we need to apply to our spiritual lives? Here’s the first thing: the core of our worship experience is a holy matter and needs to be handled with the greatest care. What was the Ark of the Covenant? It was a symbol of the intention of Almighty God to meet with his people. When David brought the Ark into Jerusalem, he was bringing that artefact which told every faithful Jew that the Lord God desired to be in the midst of his people. Is there something that tells a Christian the same thing? Yes and no. He’s not a something, he is a someone; Jesus, Immanuel, God is with us.

I take it then that in this story, God is trying to treat Jesus with the care, the respect, the awe and wonder which he deserves. Can we aim to always be honest about Jesus? With some shame I confess to you there have been times when I have given into the temptation to tell people that Jesus only wants a bit of their time, a bit of their talent and, “oh yes, if you can spare it, a wee bit of your treasure.” That is nothing less than dishonest, what my mother would call a “bald-faced lie.”

Here’s the second thing: attitude is crucial. During the time we lived in Windsor the radio in my car was set most of the time to a classical music station in Detroit. One of their hosts would often begin his mid-day show with a selection from the sacred classical repertoire. It happened that on one of those days I was in the car as his show began with John Rutter’s setting of, For the beauty of the earth.

“Lord of all, to thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise.” I can’t tell you why but tears flowed down my face that day. A yellow Toyota Tercel is not much of a sanctuary, but that is where I might have come as close to worship as I will ever get.

Getting even

    Years ago a story appeared in Reader’s Digest. It was written by a clerk at a grocery store who often assisted elderly customers. “One woman shopped nearly every day, asking for just a few items each time. After a month, she said to me, ‘I suppose you wonder why I’m here so often. You see, I live with my nephew. I can’t stand him, and I am not going to die and leave him with a refrigerator full of food.’ ”
    Then there’s the story about the university professor who answered his telephone at 3:00 A.M. “This is your neighbour, Mr. Smith,” said the voice. “Your dog is barking and keeping me awake.” The professor thanked him kindly and hung up. The next morning Mr. Smith’s telephone rang at exactly 3 A.M. “This is the professor,” said the caller. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t have a dog!”
   Stories of revenge—Shakespeare thought it was a much a part of us as breathing. “If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? (Shylock, Merchant of Venice, Act 3 Scene 1)
    Surely if anyone could be justified in taking his revenge it would be David. Yet our text today clearly points us in the direction of allowing God to sort out such matters. Let’s have a look at what is being said in today’s story about us taking control of something that belongs to God.
    It’s good for us to be reminded of what is going on in this part of the story. David has been anointed by Samuel as the next king of Israel, but the current king, Saul, is still very much alive and very much in control and still of the opinion that if he can get rid of David he can then establish a dynasty—in other words, Jonathan would be the next king.
    David and his band of rebels are on the run. David thinks that a good place to avoid Saul’s pursuit will be the wilderness of En-gedi. The study Bible that I use tells me there were numerous caves in the mountains of this area, some large enough to hold as many as a thousand people. That’s a big cave! It is one such cave that David and his men have hidden from Saul.
    I’m not sure how we are to take the next part of the story. Spies have been part of war ever since there have been wars to fight—in other words, there have always been spies. Word has gotten to Saul that David is in this particular region, but this spy has not been able to nail down exactly where. At one time I thought this part of the story was meant to be funny, but now I don’t think so. Rather, it is told in a matter-of-fact sort of way. The original is circumspect: Saul went into the cave to “cover his feet.” This is a biblical euphemism. The NRSV tells it as it is: Saul went in to relieve himself. Obviously he was not aware that this was the cave in which David and his men were hiding.
    We need to do a bit of work this morning. According to our text, The men of David said to him, “Here is the day of which the Lord said to you, ‘I will give your enemy into your hand, and you shall do to him as it seems good to you.’ “ I think we ought to look up where this word from God first comes to David. You have Bibles on your chairs; please look up Hezekiah 6:14.
    Has anyone got it yet? If you do you are the most inventive and imaginative one among us. There is no book of Hezekiah in the Old Testament, and nowhere does scripture record that the Lord God made any such statement to David or his men. Here then, I think, is a God-given caution for us. You see Baptists have always been “people of the Book.” The Bible has been throughout Baptist history recognized as “a sufficient guide for faith and practice.” Let’s be sure then that we know what in fact the Bible says and what it does not say. This appears to David’s men to be a God-given opportunity for David to eliminate Saul. Instead, somehow David understands it to be an opportunity for mercy and a way to show that David’s heart was right and true.
    What happens next is quite interesting. I tread carefully here because we are certainly in danger of trespassing in the territory of “too much information.” But it appears as if Saul was either so pre-occupied with his responsibilities or so convinced he was totally alone that David was able to get close enough to cut off the corner of Saul’s cloak without being noticed.
    Verse five of our text tells us Afterward David was stricken to the heart because he had cut off a corner of Saul’s cloak. Let’s play with that idea for a few minutes. Here’s what I think happened that day. According to Wikipedia, it is possible that David had a pair of scissors with him in that wilderness cave. Scissors were most likely invented around 1500 B.C. in Egypt. However, the word scissors never appears in the Bible; the word sword appears 408 times. I think we can be almost certain that the implement David used to cut off the corner of Saul’s cloak was a sword and not a pair of scissors.
    Why is David stricken to the heart? It is, I believe, because it was only as he got within striking distance of Saul that his mind and heart changed. It was only as he came close to the king that he realized there is no such thing as a God-given opportunity for revenge.
    What happens next shows the wisdom of David’s choice. David is not a coward. By doing the right thing he is given an even greater degree of holy boldness. Saul leaves the cave. No sooner has he rejoined his troops when David appears at the entrance of that very same cave. 
    David calls into question the advice Saul has been receiving. Here’s that part of the story from Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, The Message: Then David stood at the mouth of the cave and called to Saul, “My master! My king!” Saul looked back. David fell to his knees and bowed in reverence. He called out, “Why do you listen to those who say ‘David is out to get you’? This very day with your very own eyes you have seen that just now in the cave God put you in my hands. My men wanted me to kill you, but I wouldn’t do it. I told them that I won’t lift a finger against my master—he’s God’s anointed. Oh, my father, look at this, look at this piece that I cut from your robe. I could have cut you—killed you!—but I didn’t. Look at the evidence! I’m not against you. I’m no rebel. I haven’t sinned against you, and yet you’re hunting me down to kill me. Let’s decide which of us is in the right. God may avenge me, but it is in his hands, not mine. An old proverb says, ‘Evil deeds come from evil people.’ So be assured that my hand won’t touch you” (1 Samuel 24:8–13).
    We must use great care when we take a story from the Bible and use it as a picture or symbol or parable of how God may choose to act in our lives. David did, I believe, choose to do the right thing. His heart was stricken because he almost did the opposite. He got close enough to Saul to cut off the corner of his cloak.
Because David has done the right thing, God is able to take even this slight bit of treachery and use it to David’s advantage. When David calls out to Saul from the entrance to that cave, only one thing is certain—David was in the cave. When he waves that piece of cloth and when Saul grabs the corner of his cloak only to find that a corner is missing, this is absolute proof of what David is saying—if there is any avenging to be done, I am going to leave that up to God. Saul has no choice but to admit that David is in the right. We know that David is far from perfect but he has left the redress of any balance up to the perfect judgement of God. This is where such matters should be left.
    What is to be learned from this part of David’s story? Friends I think there are these insights to be gained. You and I need to decide whom we are going to trust. Will it be Shakespeare or will it be God? I know what I would say; I am confident I know what you would also say: what a ridiculous question, of course we trust God. But do we trust God to know what is in fact the most natural thing for us?
    Shakespeare was a great observer of human nature, no doubt of that. When stabbed we bleed, when tickled we laugh, when poisoned we die. Just as those things are true, so also is it true that when wronged we seek revenge. Is that it? Or is the Bard of Avon simply telling us what he has seen of our behaviour? That may not necessarily be what is best for us or anyone else.
    You see, I think all of us are called to live according to the best lights to which our lives have been exposed not the worst.  Let me tell you a story.
    In 1984 Sir Anthony Berry, a Conservative Member of Parliament was killed by an Irish Republican Army bomb detonated at the Tory Party conference in Brighton.  Berry’s daughter, Jo, was 27 years old at the time.  Jo remembers knowing that she did not want to blame and become bitter.  She knew that she wanted to find a way to bring something positive out of the death of her beloved father.
    Berry tells that she started a journey with no map but with a trust that step-by-step she would find her way.  In November 2000 she met Patrick Magee, the man responsible for her father’s death. He had been released from prison as part of the Good Friday Peace Agreement.
    When Jo looks back on that day, she remembers being scared. Would she regret meeting him?   Then the door opened, Patrick arrived and they sat and talked together for three hours. Although there were many difficulties, Jo and Patrick continued their meetings and became friends.  This made a profound change in both of them.  Jo came to realize that if she had lived Patrick’s life, she might have done what he did.  Patrick came to realize how many innocent victims were created by his violence.
   This friendship has been healing for both Jo and Patrick.  They now travel the world telling their stories for an organization in Britain called The Forgiveness Project. Listen as the retired Archbishop of South Africa, Desmond Tutu, talks about forgiveness.
    Not the easy way; not the soft way, but the witness of many is that forgiveness is part of the better way, God’s way.
There’s one more thing. Did you take note of one of the things David said. “Saul, you are getting bad advice.” The Bible never breaks this down for us. Did Saul surround himself with a bunch of “yes” men who simply told him what they thought he wanted to hear? Or were his advisors simply such poor judges of character that they consistently misread David’s intentions? I don’t know. What I do know is this. David admitted to the possibility that there was a big picture to this scene that only God’s perspective could take in.
    Some of you will laugh at me, I’m sure, but one person who models this for me is former Prime Minister, Joe Clark. When the PC Party showed Joe what loyalty meant to them, he decided, in my opinion, to be the better person and served as a capable and effective Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs under Brian Mulroney. There was a bigger picture here; the country could still be served and he did it.
    Maybe the reason this story is included in the Bible is to give us insight into what it means that David was called “a man after God’s own heart.” We know it does not mean he was perfect. Perhaps part of what it means is this: at his best David was content to leave God’s business in God’s hands.

Running on empty

     “God whispers to us in our pleasures, but God shouts to us in our pain.” So said C. S. Lewis. In other words there are times when God will use a particularly difficult situation as his megaphone. Our heavenly Father wants to get our attention and does so through experiences we would never seek and yet which are a significant part of the tools God uses to shape our character.
      In the first three weeks of this sermon series, my colleague, David Thomas, has guided us through some of what we might call the “big” moments of David’s life as a young man. Certainly the defeat of the giant, Goliath, was a “big” moment. We have come today to a part of the story that has a different mood to it. Certainly, right from the start we knew the road ahead was going to be treacherous. Saul was Israel’s first king; he assumed his line would follow after him. When Samuel anoints David as Israel’s next king while Saul was very much still alive and in control, we could expect some bumps in the road. I’m not sure any of us would have predicted the sight of God’s anointed letting spittle run down his beard in order to convince someone he was deranged.
      My take on this text is this: it is a study of contrasts or opposites that allows us to see where and how David goes wrong and how a gracious God provides for him. If you have your Bible with you, please turn to the text. If you are using one of the Bibles on the chairs, you’ll find the text on page 266 of the Old Testament. There will also be selected verses appearing on the screen.
      A little bit of a geography lesson will be helpful as we get started. David is not in Jerusalem. He is in the town of Gibeah which is about 10 to 15 kilometres north of Jerusalem. The first verse of our text tells us that David came to a place called Nob; it appears to be a community that existed for the sole purpose of being a location for the tabernacle and to house the priests who looked after this place of worship. No one is exactly sure where this place was, except to say some scholars think it was within sight of Jerusalem.
      When he sees David, the priest Ahimilech trembles with fear. He is almost certain he is being put between a rock and a hard place, one David and the other Saul. Notice the question he asks. “Why are you alone, and no one with you?” A touch redundant, don’t you think? If someone is alone, by definition no one is with him or her. Remember, repetition in Hebrew writing is a way to stress the importance of what is being said or asked. Ahimilech is telling David that he is aware this is a strange circumstance for one of Saul’s generals to be traveling on his own.
      David has a choice. He tells a lie. “The king sent me on a mission and gave strict orders: ‘This is top secret—not a word of this to a soul.’ ” There is almost always, I think, a problem associated with a lie. Have a look at verse 7 of the text. Now a certain man of the servants of Saul was there that day, detained before the Lord; his name was Doeg the Edomite, the chief of Saul’s shepherds.
      That verse is in the text to tell us that David would have known without any doubt that he was putting the life of Ahimilech at risk. There is no chance that he could have been mistaken about this. David was running from Saul because he feared for his own life. Anyone whom Saul thought had provided care and comfort for his enemy would be in danger. David selfishly told a lie, perhaps justifying it by thinking that not even Saul would turn against God’s priest. But David was wrong. In chapter 22 Saul interrogates Ahimilech and then orders his death. It is Doeg the Edomite who becomes the executioner. The Bible is not all sunshine and roses. It starkly portrays the cold and grey colours of deceit and its consequences.
      Then the contrast. David asks for the Holy Bread. A word of explanation will put this incident into context for us. On every Sabbath day, the priests on duty baked 12 loaves of bread for that particular day.  They were brought into the Tabernacle and dedicated to God. Each loaf symbolized one of the tribes of Israel and also that God was the provider of all that God’s people needed. On the next Sabbath, 12 fresh loaves were brought into the Tabernacle and the 12 loaves, admittedly a bit past their “best before” date, were given as food to the priests. David demands this bread for him and the men that he says are waiting for him, which I think is another lie. There is no mention of any comrades for David until the next chapter.
      Let me try something out on you. Do you remember when Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness? The story is told in Matthew, Mark and Luke. The tempter came and said to him, “if you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” But he answered, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God’ ” (Matthew 4:3, 4). Now, in this incident Jesus is quoting from the Torah, Deuteronomy 8:3, in which God, through Moses, tells his people that he fed them with the manna in the wilderness so that they would know that those who have faith in God live through what he gives them. What God gives is then the bread of life.
      David takes the Holy Bread, the bread intended for the priests. It is given to him because, on the level of the obvious, he is hungry. Some of you will remember last year when we were going through The Story, we talked about the lower story and the upper story. At the level of the lower story David eats this bread because he is hungry. At the level of the upper story, I think what you and I are being shown is that David could have trusted God enough to tell the truth in his dealings. It seems to me we have here a contrast between David and David’s greater son, God’s Christ, whom we believe is Jesus. David gave into temptation. Jesus conquered temptation.
      The next tall tale David tries to spin by the priest is that because his mission for the King required such great haste, he came away without his sword. The priest said, “The sword of Goliath the Philistine, whom you killed in the valley of Elah, is here wrapped in a cloth…”
      Friends, I racked my brains to think of something that might compare with the triumph of David over Goliath. The closest thing I can come up with is my doctoral diploma. Some of you may remember me saying that I did not make it through the first thesis review unscathed. I had to do a revision. One of the professors on my review committee, was, in my opinion, simply out and out unkind in his remarks. (You’ve chopped the legs out from under me, no real need to kick me while I’m down.) To make a long story short, I did have a small sense of triumph when my thesis was accepted. That diploma is on my wall; I know where it is. Are you a little bit surprised that David didn’t know where the sword of Goliath was kept? I would have travelled with that like a trophy!
      This, I believe, is a reminder of grace. Think about what happens. David continues the deception about the reason for his trip. He’s on a secret mission for Saul and he left in a hurry; no time to get a sword. “Have you got a sword kicking around here?”
      “David, this is a place of worship, not a gun and ammo shop. The only weapon we have around here is the sword you took from Goliath, when God gave you that wonderful victory over the giant. Do you remember, you felled him with a sling shot?”
      How did this sword get to the Tabernacle? We can only guess, which I enjoy doing. I don’t think it was brought to that place of worship just in case it was needed for battle. I think it was there to serve as a reminder that in any of the battles David was going to fight it was vital to trust in God. David knew this. It is difficult, if not impossible, to know the chronology of any of the poems written by David. I cannot then tell you when he wrote these words: Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord (Psalm 20:7).  There it is. David would not triumph simply by his own wits, by the telling of a clever lie. Rather, knowing that the Lord was with him was the source of his security. That message did not come through to David on that day at the Tabernacle. Hopefully, when we struggle we remember to trust in God.
      One lie has led to another and then this part of David’s story takes a bizarre turn. David again takes the path of deceit. He decides that safety will be found in the court of Philistine king. David must have presented himself as a defector from Saul’s army, otherwise he would have been killed. However, advisors of the Philistine king have heard about the song that greeted David’s victories. “Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands.” There is much that I could speculate about this incident, but let me offer this one comment. David comes to the point where he believes his only protection is to pretend that he is emotionally and mentally unbalanced.
      The contrast in this part of the story is in the comment of Achish’s advisors. “Is this not David the king of the land?” That, of course, is a mistake and, on another level, it’s not a mistake but a prophetic word. But it’s hard to tell that this is the new king of Israel when he’s digging his nails into the door frame as the spit runs down his beard. As Achish says, “Can't you see he's crazy? Why did you let him in here? Don't you think I have enough crazy people to put up with as it is without adding another?” (The Message).
      I think there are likely numerous ways to understand this story, all of which would contain some measure of God’s truth. Here’s the one that struck me. David knew that God could be trusted and yet in the crunch thought it better to rely on his own cunning, or deceit. What did God do? In spite of David’s folly God used this time to remind David of his grace and mercy. He was fed; he was protected; he was saved from his enemy.
      Friends, this is one of those “how much better” stories. In spite of everything God made his grace known—how much better to remember this grace and trust him from the beginning.

“What must I do to be saved?”

Let us pray. Lord, open our hearts and minds by the power of your Holy Spirit, that as the scriptures are read and your Word is proclaimed, we may hear with joy what you say to us today. Amen.
“Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” My conclusion is that this part of Acts 16 wraps around this one sentence. Here’s why I come to that conclusion. Lydia is a spiritual seeker who needs to make the step toward salvation. The slave girl needs to be saved from both mental and physical bondage. The warden of Philippi’s jail needs to be saved from certain death. Paul and Silas need to be saved from imprisonment.
This central sentence is both more and less than what it appears to be. I think we are best served if we use the translation which N. T. Wright says captures the sense of the jailer’s frantic question. “Gentlemen, will you please tell me how I can get out of this mess?” Let’s have a look then at the mess that is presented in this quick snapshot of the city of Philippi.
We begin with the story of the slave girl who was believed to be a fortune-teller. I am never quite sure how to handle this sort of detail in a New Testament story. My first reaction is to think that this is simply a part of the superstition that lurked around every corner in the ancient world. However, speaking about things around corners, for most, if not all of the time I have been the pastor here at Blythwood, there has been a so-called psychic in one of the upper offices on Yonge Street south of Blythwood. Here’s the amusing or strange or, perhaps, frightening thing—while many businesses have come and gone during these ten years, this place that doles out liberal servings of mumbo-jumbo continues to be able to afford Yonge Street rents. Perhaps we are not quite so sophisticated as we would like to think.
The key here is that this young woman with some sort of mental imbalance is perceived to be able to give insight into the future—“I see a tall, dark and handsome man in your future if you’re in the right place at the right time.” Paul and Silas cross paths with her and she keeps announcing, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” Dr. Luke tells us that Paul eventually became annoyed by this.
What do you think it was that annoyed Paul? I have always been struck by this matter. I assumed that it was the repetitiveness of this girl’s cry that annoyed Paul. However, think about it for a minute. In this important Macedonian city that was a Roman colony, if an announcement is made about the Most High God, to whom is the person referring? It certainly would not be the God of the Old Testament, the God of Abraham and Moses. It would be Zeus or Jupiter or whichever local deity the people of Philippi thought was at the top of the heap. And, a way of salvation would not be understood as the news about Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. Paul was annoyed because this girl’s affliction is getting in the way of the gospel.
In a rather dramatic confrontation Paul orders the afflicting spirit to come out of the young woman and it happens that very hour. Anyone reading this story for the first time might think that Paul and his companions would be hailed as heroes. After all, this girl has been freed from an emotional and mental and spiritual disability. She, however, is not free; she was a slave, she had become a source of financial gain to her owners. There’s nothing worse than a fortune-teller whose crystal ball has gone cloudy.
This reminds me of a report on CBC in the aftermath of the Alberta election at the end of April. As you may remember every poll done about a week before the election was predicting a majority for the Wild Rose Party. It wasn’t even close. The Tories are once again the government of Alberta—41 years and counting. What was interesting about the report I heard was the comment of one of pollsters. This might cost her money. She referred to election polls as her advertisements. If she can’t measure the mood of electorate with any accuracy, there might be fewer companies willing to pay her to tell them what sort of frozen peas I’m likely to buy. If you get in the way of commerce, people get twitchy.
Despite the miracle Paul and Silas are dragged off to the marketplace where they can be denounced in front of the city’s authorities. Look at the charges brought against them. “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” Notice they say nothing about their profits being threatened. Better to go after those issues, those attitudes that appeal to the least common denominator. Life is good in Philippi; we don’t need anyone here rocking the boat. Besides, these men are foreigners, they might even be Jews. Let’s face it Roman ways are the best ways. We cannot have anyone telling us different.
Paul and Silas are flogged and placed in the city jail. Someone must have thought a high level of security was needed. They were locked up in the cell furthest from the door, their feet fastened in the stocks. Something happens around midnight. Is it a natural phenomenon which God uses or is the earthquake another example of the dramatic intervention of God? I’m not sure, nor do I think it matters what we think happened. What matters is that we understand Dr. Luke is convinced that God is working to make the power of salvation known in the city of Philippi.
I find it interesting that when the doors of the jail crack open and the chains fall off the prisoners, the jailer realizes that if he has any hope of preserving his life he needs to talk to Paul and Silas. Other prisoners were aware these two had been singing hymns and praying; perhaps the guards had also taken notice of this strange nocturnal behaviour. “How can I get out of this mess?” he says. The mess, of course, is that if he cannot produce the prisoners the next morning he will be executed.
The truth is that’s only the beginning of the mess that he is in. The jailer is simply a man doing his job. It is unlikely he ever allowed sentiment to interfere with his work. If the magistrate wanted someone kept overnight, that’s all the jailer needed to know. It wasn’t his business to decide on guilt or innocence; keeping prisoners where they belonged was his only concern.
I think the direction Dr. Luke wants us to head by way of this story is to recognize the impact God intends to have through the good news about Jesus. In verse 32 of our text we are told that Paul and Silas speak to the jailer and his family about the Lord. This is very important. There are times when those of us in the evangelical church have reduced the good news to telling folks how they can get a ticket to heaven. There may have been something of the message of eternal life in what Paul said to the jailer, but, as I have said on a number of occasions, this word Lord points toward the difference God intends to make in his world right now.
Philippi is a city proud of its status as a Roman colony. Lord is the title that is used by Caesar. In other words, what Paul tells the jailer is that the mess he needs to get out of includes the much bigger issue of who has his ultimate loyalty.
Perhaps this will sound foolish, even for me; part of the good news is at first sight and sound, bad news. In what God is up to there is a confrontation with the world as it is. A young woman is freed from a prison of emotional, spiritual and mental bondage and those who have brought the good news to her life are welcomed as criminals. Except, look at what happens. Look at verse 33 of our text. At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. He brought them up into the house and set food before them. What does the jailer do? He attempts to set right the wrong of his world. When Paul and his companions had been the agents of bringing freedom to this young woman, there ought to have been a celebration of God’s new kingdom breaking into the life of Philippi. Better late than never, the jailer has a midnight party.
One of the commentators I read in preparation for this sermon suggested we look at the identity of the three characters who are confronted with God’s good news in Acts 16. There’s Lydia, the well-to-do businesswoman. There’s the spirit possessed slave girl. And there’s the warden of the city jail. If this were a Masterpiece Theatre costume drama, these three would be from upstairs, downstairs and somewhere in the middle.
The question confronting the world is still how can I get out of this mess? How can I be saved? How does healing come to our world? What is it that God is doing for us? Here’s the answer: in Jesus, God is setting the world to rights and inviting us, as he invited the jailer, to figure out what that looks like for us as we become involved in it.

"Tripping through and open door"
Last Sunday we looked at the beginning of the first missionary journey of Barnabas and Saul. In chapter 14 Dr. Luke tells us about the rest of that journey. In preparing for today it seemed to me the whole of what is said to us needs to be understood in the light of the conclusion reached by these two missionaries.
Think of it in this way. Verse 27 of our text is like the wrapping of a gift; it pulls the whole thing together, it completes the picture. When they arrived, [back in Antioch] they called the church together and related all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith for the Gentiles.
I want you to keep the last phrase of that verse in your mind as we hear today’s reading. In a relatively short space of time you are going to hear about success and opposition, about divine healing and a complete misunderstanding of the source of that healing, about violence and the provision of leaders for the churches. The summary of all that is that God was opening the door for faith. Listen then to all that happens, trying to understand it in light of how Barnabas and Paul understand the grace and providence of God. The text is Acts 14. As you are able, please stand. 
Let us pray. Living God, help us so to hear your holy Word that we may truly understand; that, understanding, we may believe and believing, we may follow in all faithfulness and obedience, seeking your honor and glory in all that we do; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The heart of what Dr. Luke wants to tell us is, I think, in the story of the healing. That’s where we are going to spend the majority of our time. The background for this part of our text is a legend involving two of the gods of the Greek world and this particular town, Lystra. The story that was part of local culture was that Zeus and Hermes had once visited Lystra disguised as mortals. No one offered them hospitality except for one elderly couple. The study Bible I use claims this legend includes the detail that not only were the elderly couple rewarded for their hospitality, everyone else in the city was put to death by the gods. Part of the DNA of Lystra, then, is one ought to show hospitality to strangers. One never knows who they might actually be!
Now we come the part of the story in which Barnabas and Paul take the lead roles. What happens reminded me of an earlier incident reported by Dr. Luke early on in the life of the community of those who followed Jesus. Peter and John are going to the Temple to pray and by the name of Jesus the power of God brings healing to another person crippled from birth.
When I preached on that text I suggested that Luke wanted to emphasize that Jesus was the true Author of life. He began in his ministry to show that the life which is true worship of God is a life of grace, compassion, forgiveness and justice. It was thought both by his friends and his enemies that when he was crucified, it was shown that his message, his example was false. Tom Wright explains what happened on the third day, at Easter: “God raised him up—the resurrection continues to be at the heart of the proclamation of the church and the explanation of why new life is now happening—so that his work of bringing new life continues unchecked” (Acts for Everyone, Part 1, 55).
We are never given quite the amount of detail that we would like in these stories. We are told that Paul saw this man had faith to be healed. We are desperate to know exactly what that means, but we are not told. Rather we are expected to understand that Paul saw this as an opportunity to once again show clearly that through Jesus the power of new life continues to be given to people who believe in him.
What other conclusion could the people of Lystra come to than this: “The gods have come down to us in human form!” The local priest who presided at the temple dedicated to Zeus wants to make sure that he gets in on the reception that needs to be offered to Zeus and Hermes, so he brings with him the religious paraphernalia necessary for offering a sacrifice to these gods. This is not the reaction that Barnabas and Paul were hoping for.
Paul tells them their world has changed. He says that God never left himself without some sort of witness to his presence and power—rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy. The problem was, according to Paul, that left to their own devices, people did just what these citizens of Lystra were about to do—they made gods out of worthless things instead of seeking the one true God of the universe.
However, there is good news. Paul is there to share with these people what God has now done through the life and death and resurrection of Jesus. God has made it clear how anyone can turn their life toward their Creator. Talk about a fickle reaction. In verse 18 we are told that despite Paul’s pleas they were convinced the right thing was to offer them sacrifices. But in verse 19, the same crowd is convinced Paul ought to be stoned and left for dead. (Sounds to me very much like the change in attitude between Palm Sunday and Good Friday.)
As many of you know I am well past the mid-point of my pastoral career. That’s being kind to myself—some might say the end is clearly in sight. As I think and pray about what God might have in mind for the sunset of my pastoral life, I cannot escape this reality: this is a fascinating time in the life of the church. It’s fascinating on a world scale and fascinating on a local scale. What will it mean, for example, that the numerical strength of the church is going to be in Africa and South America? What will the church in Toronto look like among young adults who are passionately committed to social justice causes but almost completely uninterested in sustaining the church as an institution?
The reason I raise this issue today is the emphasis that Luke pushes us to see. I don’t know if such things help you, but take a look at Acts 14 in your Bible; it’s on page 133 of the New Testament of the Bibles in the pews. Let’s take a quick tour:
verse 1 — success
verse 2 — opposition
verse 5 — threat of violence
verse 10 — healing
verse 13 — mistaken identity
verse 19 — Paul left for dead
verse 20 — Paul revived
verse 23 — appointment of church leaders
verse 26 — back where they began in Antioch
verse 27 — sum it all up: how [God] had opened a door of faith for the Gentiles.
What is Luke telling us? In all that happened in this first missionary journey, the vital thing is the door to faith had been opened for some. Friends, this is still a vital thing. The question then for us is this: in all that is going on in the life of the church, big picture global stuff and little picture local stuff, how is the door to faith being opened?
 Last month I read a helpful book entitled Christianity After Religion by Dr. Diana Butler Bass. Part of what Dr. Bass does in her book is review the current “lay of the land” for churches in North America. She has come to the conclusion that many people are no longer asking ‘what’ questions when it comes to faith; they are asking ‘how’ questions. This insight squares with my experience. Seekers are still interested in the content of Christianity. In addition to that, and more importantly, I think, they are also interested in deeper things—“How does this make sense?” “How would believing this make my life different?” “How would this change the world?”
According to Dr. Bass, this presents to the church of today a significant opportunity. She says that for many in the Western world the whole concept of ‘belief’ has changed. Belief is now thought of by many as the expression of an opinion or something to which one merely gives intellectual assent. For example, during Holy Week I read that 70% of Americans think Easter is a religious holiday. That does beg the question of what the other 30% think is being celebrated. But that is not any sort of expression of faith; it is an opinion.
Faith, however, is more than an opinion. For example, Christians talk about those summaries of belief called creeds. Credo, a Latin word, points to something that “I set my heart upon,” or “I give my loyalty to.” In early English, to believe something was to ‘be-love’ it, an act of trust or loyalty.
Dr. Bass goes on to suggest a rewording of a creed that points in a more positive direction for opening a door of faith in our world.
I give my heart to God the all-powerful One, who created the universe, and Jesus, God’s Son, the Christ, who through the power of the Holy Spirit was born of the Virgin Mary.
And I give my heart to the Holy Spirit, devoting myself to the church and the communion of saints, trusting in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.
Friends, let me say again, the vital thing is the door of faith being opened for those whom God wants to reach with his good news. Let me suggest this one thing for us to chew on. Inserted in your folder this morning is a card with the title on one side, Proclaiming The Gospel. On the other side is a gospel summary. I think all of us who are concerned about the door of faith being opened for those whom God wants to reach need to have some idea in mind of the content of a spiritual conversation.
For example, what sort of spiritual life do you long for your children and grandchildren to possess? Are you hoping merely that they will give some sort of loyalty to the church as an institution? Don’t hold your breath! Are you instead hoping that they will put their trust in God and give their loyalty to Jesus Christ? Yes, that is worth much prayer and many conversations. But we must be prepared for those conversations. How will we do that? A gospel summary might be helpful. Even more helpful will be your story of faithfulness and loyalty. If someone wants to know how the Christian faith would make their life different, there is nothing more powerful than your own story. Don’t just share an opinion; tell others that you’ve given your heart to God. Do whatever you can to open other doors to faith.

With Acts 13 we turn another corner in the story of the early church. The focus now shifts, for the most part, to Saul, soon to be known as Paul, and his ministry. In this chapter we are told about the first missionary journey. At this point it is Barnabas, accompanied by Saul that are set apart for work to which God has called them. It will not be long before Saul takes the lead in this missionary work.
It will be good for us, as we turn this corner, to get a sense of the geography that is covered by this journey. From Antioch (in Syria) Barnabas and Saul travel to Seleucia, Antioch’s port city; from there they journey by sea to the island of Cyprus. You may remember Barnabas is from that island (Acts 4:36). This is familiar territory to him.
From Cyprus they again travel by sea to the port of Perga. From there it’s on to another city named Antioch, this one in the province of Pisidia. It is in the synagogue of that city that Paul has the chance to offer a word of exhortation for the people. That’s what we’re going to hear now as God’s Word is read from Acts 13:16–43. As you are able, please stand. 
Let us pray. Gracious God, give us humble, teachable, and obedient hearts, that we may receive what you have revealed, and do what you have commanded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The first thing we should do is have a look at the format of Paul’s sermon. I am assuming what we have is something of a condensing of his original, but with his three major points here in essentially the same form as they were first spoken.
For most of our time today, I would like to focus our attention on verses 38 and 39. Here they are in the text from the NRSV. “Let it be known to you therefore, my brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you; by this Jesus everyone who believes is set free from all those sins from which you could not be freed by the law of Moses.”
Here is the text in the NLT. “Brothers, listen! We are here to proclaim that through this man Jesus there is forgiveness for your sins. Everyone who believes in him is declared right with God—something the law of Moses could never do.”
One more: this is Tom Wright’s own translation, from his recently published Kingdom New Testament. “So let it be known to you, my brothers and sisters, that forgiveness of sins is announced through him, and that everything from which you were unable to be set right by the law of Moses, by him everyone who believes is set right.”
I am absolutely certain there isn’t a person here this morning who could tell me anything about a resident of Mountain View, California named Stephen Chen. Any guesses? Stephen Chen is the head pastor of the English-language ministry at Redeemer Bible Fellowship in Mountain View. It’s a 300 member church largely made up of Chinese-American immigrants. A young man who grew up in that church is named Jeremy Lin, who had a sensational part of this season playing for the New York Knicks of the NBA.
The attention paid to Jeremy Lin was called “linsanity.” Of course, as it happens to any of our sports celebrities, reporters began to look into the background of Mr. Lin. Turns out he is an active, faithful Christian. Therefore his pastor, Stephen Chen was asked by no less than the Washington Post to talk about his most famous member. Part of what he said was this: “When people ask him, ‘How are you going to stay grounded? he says, ‘I understand that I’m a sinner.’ And when he says that, he’s saying that he understands that he’s a sinner saved by grace.”
He understands that he is a sinner. Years ago I heard this definition of a Christian—a Christian is a sinner who knows he or she is a sinner. I need to make this point clear, because that’s where biblical faith begins. Saul, that self-righteous Pharisee knew that he was a sinner. In other words, he knew that he was someone who had to do something about the divide between him and God. He thought that divide had been bridged in his rigorous obedience to the dotting of every “i” and the crossing of every “t” in the Mosaic law. On the road to Damascus, Saul discovers that God is doing something new, that the remedy for sin is now found in the resurrection of Jesus the Messiah from the dead.
Friends, for the rest of our time today I want to share what some of you might call a word of witness. I suppose there is a sense that every sermon is that, but when I prepared for today I had a greater sense of needing to speak out of my own experience with this part of God’s Word.
Tom Wright, who has been my guide through much of this journey in Acts says this. “The new world which God is creating through the resurrection of Jesus is all about ‘forgiveness of sins’. At every level. Yours and mine. The wickedness, the folly, the failing, the rebellion; the shameful, dirty, lying, cheating, glittering, sophisticated, flashy, corporate, international, global, local, personal, individual sins—the whole lot. All dealt with. The law of Moses, enabled you, says Paul, to get rid of a good deal of sin, to be declared ‘in the right’ in relation to them. But there were all kinds of other things still muddying the waters, and they can now all be sorted out. Nothing need stand in God’s record against you any more. You can be ‘justified’, declared to be in the right, forgiven, a full and free member of God’s people” (Acts for Everyone, Part Two, 16).
I kept coming back to this page and to one phrase, “there were all kinds of other things still muddying the waters.” Friends there it is for me. There’s what I think needs to take hold of everyone who is seeking for the presence of God in their lives. Many of us, most of us, actually, have lived what many would call exemplary lives. And yet many of you also know there are other things still muddying the waters. For me there is a selfishness that lurks just beneath the surface which is only beaten back by the grace of God. There is also the issue of pride. I love the line I heard within this past year of the fellow who won a medal for humility; the prize committee took it away from him because he insisted on wearing it. I hope you don’t mind; I’m going to keep that beautiful fountain pen that you gave me in March in recognition of our ten years together. But folks, as much as I thoroughly enjoyed that day, I have to tell you I truly think my being here that long says more about you and your grace than it does about me. I do enjoy the recognition—too much, in fact.
There was a time, now past I pray, when an unhealthy anger seemed always to be not far from my heart. Someone saw it in me, thought it might even be a reason to seek professional help. I could go on, but I won’t. Some of you will recognize something in your life that is still muddying the waters for you. It hardly ever shows on Sunday mornings but there are people in our family and friendship circles who fought last night to just have one drink and ended up finishing the bottle. You may have a colleague who only avoids looking at pornography on his laptop because he knows someone in IT will check and he’ll get fired. And it may be the latest way for the government that we voted in to increase revenues but I can tell you now that increased access to gambling is going to bring not wealth to more but financial ruin and family disintegration to more. O God, forgive us our sin.
Paul tells us God is up to something. As it often happens the Bible presents a variety of words and images—it’s salvation, it’s a new day, it’s the new age, the new creation. The point of it all is that God is in the business of turning the whole of creation back to righteousness and justice and peace. Where did it start? It started for Peter when he was called from the boat. It started for Paul on the road to Damascus. It started for me in the care of a mother who loved Jesus and made sure I was part of a community that also loved him. It always starts with you and Jesus and it grows from there.

Praying without expectation

In our study of the Acts of the Apostles we have seen both sides of what it meant to be a follower of Jesus. I’m not sure what image would have appealed most to the world of the first century, but roller coaster is the one that comes most easily to mind for the 21st century.
The ride begins, of course on the day we call Good Friday, the day Jesus is crucified. Then comes the first day of the week and Jesus is alive. Over a period of 40 days he appears to the apostles and to many of his followers—that must have been some sort of great ride! Then he’s gone; but ten days later the Spirit falls upon the church and 3,000 were added to the Kingdom.
Many of you will now be into the rhythm I am suggesting and perhaps be ahead of me to the arrest of Peter and John, the appointment of new leaders, the martyrdom of Stephen, the expansion of the church in the non-Jewish world, the conversion of Saul, that Pharisaic persecutor—there’s a roller coaster ride if ever I have seen one.
Today that ride dips to what might first look like a new low. The followers of Jesus had been subject to arrest and threat from the Temple authorities and from a zealous Pharisee who believed they were dangerous heretics. In our text today, it is the power of the civil government that turns its menacing attention toward the church in the person of Herod Agrippa 1.
Our text for today is Acts 12:1–17. As you are able, please stand as we hear the word of God read. 
Let us pray. O God, since we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from your mouth, make us hungry for this heavenly food, that it may nourish us today in the ways of eternal life; through Jesus Christ, the bread of heaven. Amen.
When faced with this and similar texts in my childhood and teenage years, my first question was always this (Does anyone wish to guess?)— “Which of the Herods is this?” This is not an easy family to figure out. In one of his typically delightful turns of phrase, N. T. Wright says this about this bunch. “Anyone who wants to understand the Herodian family

tree should be prepared to take a long weekend, a very large sheet of paper, and an ice pack” (Simply Jesus, 80). This is not, of course, the one known as Herod the Great. We meet that paranoid scoundrel in Matthew’s version of the Christmas story. He’s the one behind the murderous rampage of baby boys when he realizes the Magi are not going to return with the location of the one born to be king.
Nor is this Herod the one who imprisoned John the Baptist and eventually had him beheaded. John had told Herod that his marriage to his brother’s wife was an affront to God and unworthy of the person who said he was a leader of God’s people. We know that ruler as Herod Antipas.
The Herod of Acts 12 was the grandson of Herod the Great and the nephew of Antipas. It seems there are at least two things going on in his mind when he launches his attack against the followers of Jesus. He had James, the brother of John, killed with the sword. After he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also.
We are not sure what really comes first here, but I’m going to take a guess. I have explained on other occasions that one of the ways the Romans controlled their empire was to use those who had some sort of authority in their local area to be their agents. Herod Agrippa had a Jewish grandmother; his bloodline therefore was considered Jewish. The people of Palestine considered that a plus. Agrippa was also trusted by Rome, to the extent that he had been given by Rome the title, King of the Jews. He was the first of the family since his grandfather to be permitted to use that title.
You may have guessed where I’m going now—there is a new, troubling, religious movement who claim the one they follow had been raised from the dead and they claimed him as their king. In the tradition of his paranoid grandfather, this Herod wasn’t going to have any rival kings in his realm either. This, however, is a skilled politician; he orders the arrest and execution of one of the lesser known leaders of this movement, James the brother of John, whom he kills with the sword. What that phrase means is that James was sentenced as a political prisoner. Then Herod puts his finger in the air to test the wind.
The vibes are good. The Temple leaders let him know they are pleased to have one less of these heretics claiming that God’s new age has begun through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. They let Herod know they will take any opportunity that comes their way to sing his praises to the Romans. Agrippa checks with his version of CSIS; they tell him there’s no sign of any unrest on the streets as a result of James being arrested. Let’s go after a bigger fish, he says. Peter is rounded up and put in prison. Luke tells us the response of the church was to pray.
Prayer is something of a mystery to me. I’m reminded of a story I read recently about the child who ended her bed time prayers by asking God to bless all the girls. Eventually her parents asked her why she was making this request. She told them she felt it was only fair because everyone she heard pray at church ended their prayers asking on behalf of “all-men.” Prayer is a mystery to me. It appears from our text that this has always been so.
I love how Dr. Luke tells the story. Basically what he says is this—
James is arrested and executed;
Peter is arrested;
The church prays for a miracle, because only a miracle is going to save Peter;
God answers the prayer of the church;
The church says that only an insane person could believe that their prayers had been answered.
If you think I am exaggerating, read the text again at home this afternoon or tonight. The maid, Rhoda, responds to someone knocking at the outer gate. She recognizes Peter’s voice and, in her excitement fails to open the door. She returns to the house and interrupts the prayer meeting to tell those gathered their prayers had been answered. They tell her first that she is out of her mind; when she insists, they tell her it must be that Peter is dead and that it is his ghost at the door.
What, if anything, does this tell us about prayer? Let me try out some ideas on you, admitting as I have on many occasions that at 61 I am still a raw rookie on the prayer team. To use an analogy from the world of baseball, I am not yet on the major league team, nor am I even on the triple A team. I have spent part of a couple of seasons on the double A team, but mostly I’m a single A prayer player. So in the next few moments you may think you have more to share about prayer than I do. Great!—you are going to get your turn soon.
The first thing that strikes me in our text today is that we simply do not know the mind of God. Why was Peter miraculously released from prison, when James the brother of John was executed? I have no idea. Could it be the church didn’t pray for James? I suppose that’s possible, but not likely. I don’t know if this is helpful for you, but I have always thought that if I could put God within a box defined by my intellectual abilities, what sort of God would this be? In other words, any god I could fully understand is not worthy of being God.
The second thing is that prayer cannot be measured on the basis of our faithfulness. It seems to me that what happens in our text is that the expectations of the church are brought in line with the will and purposes of God. Let me try to explain what I mean. Again comparing James and Peter, it would seem that James had done all that God had for him to do; there was still more for Peter to do. After all, the power of Rome eventually caught up to Peter: many sources say it is likely he died at the hands of Nero about 67 A. D.
The church prayed for Peter’s release from prison, and yet disbelief greets the news that their prayers had been answered. It does not appear then as if God somehow rewards their fidelity. Rather, through prayer they come to better understand God’s will and purposes.
The last thing I want to say is it appears to me our text tells us something about what we ought to include in our prayers. In other words, are my prayers, your prayers big enough? If our prayers were answered, would I be so surprised that I might doubt the sanity of the one who reported what God had done?
Before any of us let our minds wander too far down a wrong path, let me suggest there is an order to these insights—getting our expectations in line with the will and purposes of God takes priority over praying big prayers. I could ask the church to join me in praying that a new Lamborghini Aventador be sitting in my driveway when I get home today, but I am 100% certain that is not within God’s will for me. Here’s the sort of big prayer I mean: that God would bless this congregation with the insight, grace and conviction needed to discover six new ways to partner with our sisters and brothers among the Baptists in the Chapare region of Bolivia.
Now it’s your turn.

How many of you ever had a nickname? They come in a variety of disguises. Our son Andrew has been known as Norm for much of his life; no one in Halifax knows him by any other name. They think it odd when a family member calls him Andrew.
There are nicknames that focus on a particular physical characteristic. “Chubby Checker” was a  popular rock and roll singer whose biggest hit was The Twist in 1960. The singer was a little on the fat side; his nickname was “Chubby.”
Then there are names given not so much to one person as they are labels attached to a particular country or race or group of people. Often these are intended to mark the group as somehow being a fit object of ridicule. Canadians, for example, tell jokes that poke fun at the eccentricities of citizens of our tenth province.
Something you may not know is the word Christian, by which followers of Jesus are known throughout the world, was that sort of name. William Barclay tells us people who lived in Antioch loved to find less than flattering names for people. The Emperor, Julian, once visited the city, sporting a beard. Their name for him—“The Goat.” They referred to us as Christ’s people, a name meant to mock us, to show contempt. Yet it stuck; truly I don’t think anyone knows for sure why it did, but I think Dr. Luke weaves through this story some threads that tell us what it means to belong to the people who are honoured to belong to Christ.
Our text for today is Acts 11:19–30. As you are able, please stand as we hear the word of God read. 
Let us pray. O God, your Word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path. Give us grace to receive your truth in faith and love, and strength to follow on the path you set before us; through Jesus Christ, Amen.
The city of Antioch was the third largest city of the Roman world; only Rome and Alexandria were bigger. It had an estimated population of 500,000 and was the headquarters of Rome’s Syrian legion. Craig Keener in his IVP Bible Background Commentary adds to the description. “With a famous cult centre of Apollo within walking distance and Seleucia, its port city off the Mediterranean coast, only a brief river journey, it boasted numerous mystery cults and was known for its pagan religious diversity.” We think we have it tough bringing God’s good news to North Toronto; the reality, friends, is there has never been an easy time and place to tell people what God is up to.
As I often suggest, you may want to have the text open before you as we look at it. It’s been a few months since I have made mention of this, so let me say again, that if any of you would like a copy of the NRSV Bible, just let me know following worship today. (For the younger members of the congregation, you can get the NRSV app for your I-phone, -pod or -pad for $10. Just like anything else for which you might be looking, go to the app store on your device and search for NRSV.) Selected verses of the text will also appear on the screen.
In my reading of the text I found five threads that I think tell us something about the characteristics of the community that is faithful to Jesus. I know I take the risk of sounding trite, but the first of these is captured by that cliche, “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
Look at verse 19. Now those who were scattered because of the persecution that took place over Stephen traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch… Don’t get me wrong. The church did not and never should seek persecution. That would be foolish. The church, however, in being faithful to the Lord, will experience the attacks of its opponents. The lesson here is that God is able to use what has happened to his purposes.
Let’s quickly remind ourselves of one of God’s promises and then review its progress. Jesus had told the disciples they would be his witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8). They have certainly witnessed to their faith in Jerusalem and in the surrounding area. After the death of Stephen, Philip went to Samaria. These were people who had ancient ties to the Jewish nation. Philip also preached to the official from the court of the Ethiopian queen, and Peter preached to Cornelius, but these men were already worshippers of the true God. According to verse 20 of our text, it is only because the scattering of believers had reached the city of Antioch that now outright pagans were being told God’s good news. The fulfillment of that promise about witnessing comes true because the persecution scattered the believers.
Do you sense this is a tough time for the church in Canada? Do you have faith to believe that God can use any circumstance for the ultimate fulfillment of his purposes? To be one that belongs to Christ is to have such faith.
The fact that out and out pagans were coming to faith was, despite the promise of Jesus about witnessing to the end of the earth, both a surprise and a source of concern. The denominational head office in Jerusalem sent one of its best men to investigate. Barnabas comes to Antioch and when he saw the grace of God, he rejoiced. He saw the grace of God. Let that lovely phrase kick around in your imagination for just a minute—he saw the grace of God.
There is something vital about this matter. Let me try to get at it in a couple of ways. Do you ever have conversations with friends or family members about spiritual matters? Does anyone ever tell you they live their lives by the Ten Commandments? Have you ever asked such a person, “How are you doing with that?”
Now let me admit that I am infinitely more skilled at suggesting how you ought to approach such a conversation than I am at doing it myself. Be that as it may, what the vast majority mean when they say they are living by the Ten Commandments is that they don’t steal, unless we’re talking about personal use of the office copier or finding a fool-proof way to cheat on income tax and they haven’t committed a murder. In other words, they are almost up to par on two of the ten. If you’re a baseball fan, you will know that anyone on the Jays who is batting around 200 is in danger of losing their job.
Paul, who knew all about trying to earn the favour of God through keeping the law, came to know the wonderful gift of God that we call grace. In his second letter to the Corinthians he says this: For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9).
Then there is this wonderful play on words in our text which Luke’s first readers would have recognized in the Greek. The only way for us to get a sense of it is to use a combination of Latin and English: “When he saw the gratia of God, he was gratified.” In other words what happened is Barnabas came and took a look at what was going on among the believers in Antioch and said, “Ah, yes, the grace of God has been freely given and joyfully received.” Paul Tillich, a typically difficult German theologian to understand, once wrote this memorable phrase. God accepts you; all you can do is accept the fact you are accepted. That’s about as close as anyone will ever get to defining grace.
More than half my time is gone and I have three more threads to tell you about. Barnabas, that wonderful Christian, set off on a trip of about 150 k each way in order to find Paul in Tarsus. He brought him back to Antioch, where the two of them stayed for about a year of teaching. One of the things that distinguishes those who belong to Jesus is that they never stop learning. I suppose there are any number of ways to explain this; here’s what makes the most sense to me—if in six months or six years or six decades my simple brain and limited imagination could define and confine all the attributes of God, what sort of god would it be? Not up to much, I can assure you!
We have so much yet to discover about God through God’s Word, through prayer, through acts of service and compassion, and through the playing out of God’s grace day after day after day.
Look next at verse 28. Agabus stood up and predicted by the Spirit that there would be a severe famine over all the world. The followers of Jesus listen for the promptings of God. I want us to see where the emphasis is in this part of our text. Dr. Luke is not highlighting this “future-telling” for its own sake, but because knowing what was happening presented an opportunity for the believers to respond. Let me suggest an example of the sort of thing that happened in our lifetime.
When we began to get a picture of what the AIDS crisis was going to mean for our world, particularly in Africa, there were some foolish things said in the name of God. Some suggested the spread of this disease was God’s judgement on the gay community. This was shown to be not only cruel but also foolish when it was realized that in Africa it is predominantly heterosexuals who are afflicted.
But a true prophetic word, in my opinion, was spoken when Christian leaders motivated by grace said this was going to be an opportunity for followers of Jesus to show compassion and tenderness and to hand on something of the grace of God which they had received.
I suppose the last of these threads is simply a continuation of the one before. The disciples determined that according to their ability, each would send relief to the believers living in Judea. There is a need; how can we help?
The name Christian was not the first one given to those who followed Jesus. Prior to his conversion Saul planned to travel to Damascus in order to arrest any who belonged to the Way (Acts 9:2). That’s the first name that appears to be given to us. Perhaps it was found not to be as specific, as defining, as our faith ancestors wanted a name to be. If I invite you to be part of The Way, perhaps there is a danger that it is not God’s Way but my way you are being asked to support. The call to be Christian, to be a little Christ, was meant as a jibe, a joke—they’re nothing but imitators of that Messiah who died. They think their God can be found within any circumstance; they think salvation is not earned but just given; they think they still have much to learn; they think their God speaks to them; they think it matters when they help.
We said to those in Antioch, “you know something—that pretty much describes it.” How about you? Do you want to become a Christian?

"What is God up to?"

We have come back to the Acts of the Apostles at one of the hinge points in the story. When my colleague David preached last month based on the story of Paul’s conversion in chapter nine, Dr. Luke intends, I think, for us to be gripped by an unanswered question: what next?
Think about what it is we have seen. The followers of Jesus claim he was raised from the dead. Something happens at the celebration of Pentecost which results in these followers becoming bold and courageous witnesses. We are given a glimpse of both stunning success in the church and powerful opposition, including the martyrdom of Stephen. One of the powerful opponents of the church is a Pharisee named Saul. Anyone who didn’t know the story in advance might think that Saul was about to threaten the very existence of the church. On his way to round up followers of Jesus in Damascus, Saul is met by the risen Lord. The complete turn-around in his life is symbolized by the fact we now know Saul as Paul.
If God can make a friend out of such an enemy, what’s next? Perhaps you don’t feel quite on the tiptoes of expectation today, but that’s how Dr. Luke is hoping you come to the next part of his story. Our focus is from the beginning of chapter 10 to the middle of chapter 11. Our text is Luke’s condensation of Peter’s sermon at the home of Cornelius. As you are able, please stand as we hear the word of God read from Acts 10:34–48.
Let us pray. God of life, who raised Jesus from dead and who by your Spirit inspired the prophets and writers of Scripture: draw us to Christ and help us to acknowledge him as Lord. Send your Spirit now to give us deeper insight, encouragement and faith, as we hear your good news. Amen.

Some of you will be old enough, like me, to remember the ebb and flow, the huffing and puffing, the claims and counter-claims that were part of the conversation back in the 70‘s and 80‘s regarding the protection of language and culture in Quebec. That was a difficult time for many; there are some in this congregation who lived through it as part of the English community of Montreal. The reason I raise this topic is that if we can think about what it means to be part of the majority and what it feels like to be part of a minority, we may gain some insight into the story of Peter and Cornelius.
Acts chapter ten begins by telling us about a man named Cornelius, a centurion who lived in Caesarea. There is a wealth of information in those few details. Caesarea was located on the Mediterranean Sea 33 miles north of Joppa and 60 miles northwest of Jerusalem. Constructed by Herod the Great between 22 and 10 BC and named for Caesar Augustus, Caesarea was one of the most splendid cities in Palestine and was the capital of the province for almost 600 years. Included in the construction completed by Herod was a harbour that could accommodate 300 ships, a theatre with seating for 3500 and a temple dedicated to the worship of Augustus, the emperor.
Cornelius was an important part of the colonial power, the occupying army. Centurions, commanders of 100 soldiers, were considered the backbone of the Roman military. However, we are told that despite his position in the army that keeps the boot of Rome firmly placed over the neck of God’s people, we should think kindly of this man. He was a devout man who feared God with all his household; he gave alms generously to the people and prayed constantly to God.
It is to this man that God sends a message telling him he needs to send for someone named Simon Peter who is a guest of a tanner also named Simon. Peter can be found in the city of Joppa, about 30 miles away.
In that city Peter is experiencing some sort of vision. He is hungry and while lunch is being prepared he sees something like a large sheet which contains all sorts of animals. A voice tells him to kill and eat. He objects on the grounds that at least some of these animals are unclean, forbidden by the food laws that Peter has observed for only the whole of his life. A voice also tells him, “What God has made clean, you must not regard as common” (Acts 10:15, The Kingdom New Testament). To which Peter must have said, if not aloud, at least in his mind, “What?”
Why do they insist on having French on the cereal boxes? Why is it such a big deal to have Cherrios au miel et aux noix? Just call them Honey Nut, it just slips right off the tongue without any problems. But it’s not a matter of cereal boxes or ham sandwiches. Language and dietary laws are thought of as a matter of identify and survival. The text says Peter was greatly puzzled. Another version translates it inwardly perplexed. The “rock” of the church had no idea what God was up to.
The men sent by Cornelius find Peter in Joppa and after giving them lodging for the night, they set off for Caesarea. It’s a two day journey; I suspect those were two days of Peter saying to himself, “I have no idea what I am doing except, I certain God told me to accompany these men to Caesarea.” There Peter hears from Cornelius and connects the visit of the angel with the vision of all the forbidden food. Then he says, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality.” Peter is part of a nation that has for more than one thousand years thought of itself as God’s chosen people. It is truly remarkable that he tells Cornelius that he has come to the conclusion that “God shows no partiality.”
It seems to me the best way to spend most of the time we have left is to discover how it is that Peter comes to that conclusion. Look at verse 36 of our text. You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all.
This would be a good place to be reminded of what was said when we began this study back in January. Acts of the Apostles is an unfortunate title; the story that is being told is of The Actions of The Holy Spirit. What is happening is God-centred and God-directed.
Peter, as is evident by his Spirit-inspired boldness and Scripture-dependent conviction, is absolutely convinced that God’s new age has begun through the death and resurrection of God’s Messiah, Jesus. My way of expressing it is this: Peter is convinced that all of God’s plans and promises find their focus and fulfillment in Jesus. What is also evident is that Peter understood God’s new age included all nations. Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved (Acts 2:21).
However, prior to experiencing this vision of the animals for food and visiting Cornelius, if you had asked Peter about the spiritual path that would be taken by non-Jews into the family of Jesus’ followers, Peter would have said such people would need to become Jews first.
It is important for us that we do not understand Peter’s change of mind as him adopting a western view of tolerating everyone. Peter did not come to the conclusion that “all spiritual paths lead to God.” Such a thing would not have been just confusing to Peter, it would have been absurd. Let me make this absolutely clear. Peter did not travel to the home of Cornelius, to Caesarea, in order to announce that God’s new age meant those who followed Jesus would from now on be quite happy to fold their worship of God into that city’s worship of Augustus, the emperor. What Peter realized was “God has broken down the barrier between Jews and Gentiles, humiliating both categories (Jews, because they apparently lose their privileged position; Gentiles, because they have to acknowledge the Jewish Messiah) in order to reveal God’s mercy to both (Wright, N. T., Acts for Everyone—Part 1, 164).
Here then is the radical change of mind that has taken hold of Peter—God’s new age has pushed aside the ethnic and language and religious categories in order to confront everyone and anyone with the need to repent toward God, receive forgiveness from God, be inspired and directed by the Spirit of God and take your place as a follower of Jesus. The good news for Cornelius is not that God will tolerate whatever spiritual effort you might toss God’s way, but that God is truly doing something new in offering real life to everyone who seeks him by putting their trust in Jesus.
Friends, how do we translate this particular text for our time and place? Let me share some meandering personal thoughts with you. One of the things that occupies my mind these days are the changes that have taken place in the church during my sixty plus years. More important than that, I also wonder about changes that will come during the rest of my life and how those changes might impact my children and my grand children.
One of the recent ingredients of that “thought soup” is the way in which Christian faith has captured the heart and soul of many people in China, in Africa, in parts of the Islamic world, to the point that some have been threatened with death unless they deny their faith. Yet, they remain steadfast in their conviction that Jesus is indeed Lord of all. So I wonder, in the midst of a western culture in which the church appears to be content to be ignored, will those growing up now ever be challenged to understand that nothing less than God’s new age has begun in Jesus and their response is the most important thing in the world. (Just in case you’re wondering, I do know it is my responsibility to make sure that challenge reaches them.)
One of the men who was part of the faculty at McMaster Divinity College when I was there, shortly after Noah landed the Ark, was a delightful fellow named Murray Ford. Dr. Ford had a little poster in his office that said something like this—“God has called me to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” I’m hopeful it’s a sign of developing spiritual maturity and not just grumpy old man syndrome, but I am more and more coming to the conclusion that phrase just about sums up what ministry in our world should be. In your hurting, you should expect your pastor and church to comfort you; in your spiritual life you should expect your pastor and church to challenge you; but if this church and me are not quite entertaining enough for you, I don’t care any more!
C. S. Lewis put it this way. “Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, is of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important.” Peter had come to the conclusion that Jesus was Lord of all. The only thing that can be for us is the most important thing in the world!

I want you to try and imagine that you are in Jerusalem for the celebration of Passover in the year 29 A. D. You are not a Jew by birth, nor have you yet converted to Judaism. You are certainly not the pagan you once were; in fact the Jews have a term for someone like you—God-fearer. You have had your fill of a religion that sees a god in every cloud and under every rock. And while you would not think of yourself as any sort of revolutionary, you cannot bring yourself to offer any sort of worship to Caesar in Rome. You are not a Jew yet, but you are certainly seeking to know the God of Abraham, Isaac and Moses.
This is a great time to be in Jerusalem. Travel is not as easy as it will be in 50 days, when Pentecost is celebrated, but the air is thick with anticipation and excitement as preparations are made to celebrate Passover, marking the beginning of the Exodus out of Egypt. You feel not just a momentary happiness that you have made the trip, but rather you feel something deeper, a sense of joy.
Your joy, however, is restrained. No matter how inclined you are towards Judaism, you are not a Jew and therefore limited in your access to the Temple. At the centre of that great building is the most holy place, then the holy place, then the court of the Israelites, the court of the women, and finally the court of the Gentiles. That’s who you are and you can see the placards with their dire warnings—any Gentile who goes further than the outer court will be punished by death.
Oh, it would be so wonderful to escape this outer court. It’s not just the noise; there is noise everywhere in the city today. The noise here is of the money changers and animal sellers. I suppose it’s necessary, but it feels out of place. I want to grow closer to God; this seems to push me further away from him. Can you get some sense of the emotion that would be part of the day for you?
Then something quite incredible happens— “Jesus went into the Temple and began to drive out the traders, those who bought and sold in the Temple, and overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of the dove-sellers. He permitted no one to carry any vessel through the Temple. He began to teach: ‘Isn’t this what’s written, he said, My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the world to share? But you’ve made it a brigands’ den!’” (Wright, N. T., The Kingdom New Testament, Mark 11:15–17).
 Who is this that seems to claim some sort of authority in the Temple? Who is this that says God’s house should be a place for the whole world to share? Can we discover more about him?
Am I speculating? Of course. John does not tell us why this group of Gentiles were curious to know more about Jesus, why they wanted to see him. But I can’t think of a better reason than that they recognized in him a person who wanted to help them on their journey of growing closer to God. So they came to Jesus.
As it sometimes happens in John’s telling of the story, these characters quickly fade into the background in order that Jesus can teach something vital about his ministry and mission. It seems to me, however, that these people who ask to “see” Jesus are never far from the scene. I say that because now that the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified it is also time for the whole world to see Jesus for who he truly is and to believe in him. In the time that we have left, let’s take a look at the rest of our text and see what it is that is happening that means Jesus’ hour has come.
The first thing to notice is verse 23. Jesus refers to the unfolding of God’s plan as his glorification. Let’s be quite clear on this. Jesus admits to having a troubled soul. There is nothing easy about the path upon which he is going to travel; but this path will lead to the fulfillment of God’s will and to the name of God being glorified. For Jesus, to turn away from this path would be to deny his very reason for being.
Jesus then uses an image from the world of horticulture to illustrate his point. What he says brings to mind for me the amaryllis. We were fortunate this past Christmas to receive two bulbs. Honestly, they look for all the world like onions that are past their “best-before” date. Into the dirt goes the bulb and about four or five weeks later you have a long green stem that shoots off as many as four, five or even six glorious flowers. But unless it’s buried in the ground, it never fulfills its true purpose.
Let’s skip down to the end of our text, to verses 31 and 32. “Now is the judgement of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” Think about this with me. In the aftermath of entering into Jerusalem, Jesus has claimed a startling measure of authority over the Temple, not just by driving out the sellers but by making that incredible claim that in doing so he was bringing to fulfillment the Word of God heard through the prophet Isaiah—my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples (Isaiah 56:7).
In our text he specifically talks about driving out the ruler of this world. In other words, I think what Jesus is telling us is this: the incident in the Temple is a picture, a symbol, even perhaps an acted out parable of what ultimately God was going to accomplish in his death and resurrection.
There’s more: those pilgrims whom John refers to as the Greeks came to see Jesus. Perhaps they came as a result of what had happened in the Temple. Jesus says to them and also to us, if you truly want to see me, if you truly want to know what my God-given purpose is, if you want to draw close to the most holy place of God’s presence, then what you must do is see me when I am lifted up. Do you remember what I said last Sunday about this word? It has a double meaning. Yes, it refers to being lifted up from the earth as one would be for crucifixion. It also refers to being exalted, to being glorified, to being raised up so that all who look can see clearly what is happening.
Let’s look at one more aspect of this text: look at verse 28. “Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”
You and I know that religious thinking changes over time. We are used to that in our day, but tend to think in biblical times that thinking about faith was pretty much of a straight line. Nothing could be further from the truth.
William Barclay explains. There was a time, he says, when God’s people were convinced God spoke directly to certain of his people. God spoke directly to the child Samuel. God spoke directly to Elijah. The Bible says that God spoke to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend (Exodus 33:11).
However, by the time of Jesus, God’s people had stopped believing that God spoke directly to them. Those were great days but that was history. God was too far away; the voice that had spoken through the prophets was now silent. They now believed in what they called the bath qol; this is a Hebrew phrase which means either daughter of a voice or echo of a voice.
Let’s do a bit more work: Jesus calls on God to glorify his name. The voice of God, not a faint or distant echo, replies, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” To what is God referring? What event is being spoken of? You’ve got 30 seconds: turn to the person in front, behind or beside you.
If my understanding of Old Testament history is correct, the supreme example of God glorifying or bringing glory to his own name was in the Exodus from Egypt, which, of course, began with Passover which is the event about to be celebrated in Jerusalem, and which marks the nation gaining freedom from bondage and slavery. Now God says he is going to glorify his name again. I think God is talking about a new Exodus-type event in which the gift of spiritual freedom and life is offered to the whole world through the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Now is the right time, says Jesus. It is the time for the plan and purposes of God to be fulfilled. It is the time for Jesus to be lifted up in what is both agony and glory. This is another instance of the upside-down nature of God’s Kingdom. The path to glory for the Son of God is through crucifixion. The ruler of this world will be driven out just at the point when it appears as if death and despair and darkness were going to have the last word. The ultimate contradiction of God’s Kingdom is this: somehow it is within the will of God that the world is drawn to Jesus when he is lifted up on the cross.
Last year the movie version of the Harry Potter story came to an end. Fans of the series by J. K. Rowling have known since 2007 how the story was going to end, but we waited with great anticipation to see how the movie makers would handle it. What is it that draws people to such a story?
Harry awakens or something like it. Dumbledore walks toward him and then they walk together. Harry assumes he is dead. “Ah,” said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. “That is the question, isn’t it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not.”
“Not?” repeated Harry.
“Not,” said Dumbledore.
“But I should have died—I didn’t defend myself! I meant to let him kill me!”
“And that,” said Dumbledore, “will, I think, have made all the difference.”
Dumbledore asks Harry where they are. Harry tells him it looks like King’s Cross station, only cleaner and without any trains. The ultimate act of love takes Harry to King’s Cross.
The path to God’s Kingdom goes by way of the cross. And, yes, that will have made all the difference.

There are a couple of things I want to say about friendship and love here this morning. I said a couple of weeks ago that God loves David.  What’s part of the reason that David knows this?  Part of the reason he knows this is because he has people around him who show him love. In this first scene we have their friendship introduced quite suddenly – “When David had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”  Think of David’s situation here. After his defeat of Goliath, David is taken from his father’s house.  He’s now living full time in Saul’s court. He’s in a new place. He’s being given new responsibilities.  In the middle of all this, he has someone who is going to show him the same kind of love that has been shown to him by the Lord. “Jonathan made a covenant with David (and we’ll come back to this), and loved him as his own soul,” we read in vs. 3.
Part of the reason we know God’s love for us, is that we see God’s love for us reflected in others.  In this story we see David going through changes in his life – leaving home, being put in charge of armies.  If there is anything certain in this life, it’s the fact that we will go through changes. We will leave home to go to school. We will leave home to get married, or leave our hometown to get a job. We will lose jobs, lose relationships, lose our health, or lose our ability to live independently. Some of these changes will be welcome, some not so welcome, and they can bring a reaction ranging anywhere from mildly unsettling to terrifying.  I’m sure many of us can think of people who loved us as they loved their own soul, and were there for us as we went through change.  If you haven’t experienced this before coming to Blythwood I hope you’re experiencing something of it now.  If you’re not, then we’re missing something that should be fundamental to our community of faith here.  What kind of actions does this love entail?  On a very practical level it involves self sacrifice.  This is one of the ways this story tells us what friendship looks like. “Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that he was wearing,” we read in vs. 4, “and gave it to David, and his armour, and even his sword and his bow and his belt.”  Who around us is going through some kind of change?  Who around us is in need of something that we are in a position to give them? What’s the biggest sacrifice we can make for people?  Perhaps it’s material help.  Often these days I think the most valuable thing we can give is our time.  Who is God putting in front of us that needs us to give something up for them?
Throughout this story we see Jonathan acting out of a complete lack of self interest – “dying to self” as it were, in an extreme way.  He’s the crown prince, remember.  He’s the one who in the normal scheme of things would take over when his father King Saul dies.  If Jonathan did nothing at all Saul might have succeeded in his plans to kill David. But throughout the story we have Jonathan putting his friend, the man who he loved as his own soul, before himself.  We see him interceding on David’s behalf in chapter 19, telling his father “The king should not sin against his servant David, because he has not sinned against you, and because his deeds have been of good service to you.” in vs. 4.  This causes Saul’s anger to abate, and we read that Jonathan safely brings David to Saul’s court in vs. 7.
This is the other part about friendship that we can take from this story.  Jonathan is present for David.  Jonathan stood with David.  He not only speaks for him but he stands with his friend.  In our last reading today in chapter 20, David comes up with a plan where he asks Jonathan to sound his father out – to find out if it’s safe for David to return to the court. The new moon festival is coming up, and David plans to be absent for it – he’s one step away from death as he says in chapter 20 vs. 3.  He tells Jonathan to sound his father out about Saul’s intentions toward David.  If they’re favourable, Jonathan will go out into the field where David will hide himself, and shoot three arrows.  If the arrows fall in front of where David is, David will know he’s safe.  If they go beyond, then David will know that Saul intends to murder him.  The whole secret signal idea is to insure that Jonathan is not seen conspiring with David, the man who Saul fears is set to replace him, thereby putting Jonathan’s own life in danger.  But as we read in our final passage, Jonathan sends the boy, who’s with him to retrieve the arrows, away.  Jonathan wants to stand with his friend, despite the danger that they may be seen together. David rises from where he’s hiding and we have this farewell scene, where the two friends stand with each other – and weep with each other.
Jonathan is present for David. Don’t ever underestimate the importance of simply being present for others.  We often feel helpless in the face of grief, of loss. “I wish I could do something!” we think.  Oftentimes it’s not what we can do, or even what we can say, it’s simply just being there.  While preparing for this sermon, I came across a story involving Jackie Robinson – the first African American to play major league baseball. He played for the Dodgers, who were in Brooklyn at the time. One night in Cincinnati, Robinson was being mercilessly taunted.  Racist jibes were being hurled his way, death threats even.  Pee Wee Reese who played shortstop and had grown up in the segregated south, simply walked over to second base where Robinson was and stood beside his friend, putting his arm around him. Their friendship was thus cemented from that day forward.  He was simply there for him.

Jonathan – Jehovah Has Given
I said earlier that Jonathan acts with a stunning lack of self interest from the moment we read about his relationship with David in chapter 18. In describing Jonathan’s role in the narrative, one commentator puts it this way: “He represents the extreme case of character being emptied into plot.  His attitudes and actions lack any normal motivation.  He is the heir; and the heir does not normally champion the cause of an upstart against his own.  It is not a matter of someone demonstrating a human virtue to an extreme degree, but of someone acting without reason against his own interests.”  But of course we know that there is a reason. It’s in his very name.  I’m often going on about the meaning of names, and Jonathan means “God has given – Jehovah has given.”  As the same commentator puts it, “Jonathan knows the divine plan, and acts in accordance with it.”  We don’t know how Jonathan knew the divine plan, but he knew it from very early on. From the moment he met David, it seems, and their souls were knit together, and he gave David the royal robe.  He knew the divine plan and acted in accordance with it.
Many times these Old Testament characters point forward to characters we see in the New Testament. Jonathan must decrease in order that David might increase.  Does this remind us of anything?  “He must increase, but I must decrease.” “Among you stands one whom you do not know.” says John the Baptist in John 1:26, “the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” Jonathan’s humility, points to John the Baptist’s humility.  He must increase; but I must decrease. Who would say this? Talk about being countercultural!  Who does this? Do you wonder why we’re not out in the sanctuary today (apart from the lack of air conditioning) with the place packed out?  Who would come and hear this?  This isn’t how the world works!  It’s all about “What’s in this for me?” and “Look out for number one!” right?  To that I say, “How does that seem to be working out for everyone?”
This story reminds us that God intends it to work differently.  He intends us to reflect his nature, which includes humility. “Christ took the form of a slave,” Paul writes in that great passage in Philippians 2.  This wasn’t a disguise for God.  It wasn’t like the story of the king who disguised himself as a beggar and took to the streets to see how people in his kingdom would treat him.  He humbled himself and became obedient even to the point of death – even death on a cross!  Peter didn’t get this for a while.  “You’ll never wash my feet” he told Jesus, as Jesus knelt to do just that.  Jesus said, “Not only am I going to wash your feet, but you also ought to wash one another’s feet.” Get out there and serve, in other words.  People aren’t going to come flocking in here to hear this, so we need to get out there and show some Godly humility where God calls and enables and equips us to do it. Jonathan knew the Divine plan. Are you familiar with it?  I just gave you a Reader’s Digest version of it.  If you’re familiar with it and believe it then let’s get out and show it to a world crying out for it.
The Covenant
I said earlier I’d come back to the covenant between David and Jonathan. This covenant was established in chapter 18 vs 3 – “Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul.” The covenant is renewed in chapter 20 - let’s look at vs 13-17 again: “May the Lord be with you, as he has been with my father.  If I am still alive, show me the faithful love of the Lord; but if I die, never cut off your faithful love from my house, even if the Lord were to cut off every one of the enemies of David from the face of the earth.” Thus Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, “May the Lord seek out the enemies of David.” Jonathan made David swear again by his love for him; for he loved him as he loved his own life.”  When Saul’s murderous intentions are discovered we have the scene of the two friends saying goodbye in the field, weeping together, and we have this wonderful line from Jonathan after he bids David go in peace – “The Lord shall be between me and you, and between my descendants and your descendants, forever.” The word for faithful love here is hesed in Hebrew.  Faithful love – loving kindness – steadfast love are some of the ways hesed is translated.  It’s a key attribute of God – and those words don’t do it justice, but what words ever could?
Jonathan and Saul are killed in battle with the Philistines at the end of 1 Samuel. 2 Samuel starts and we read David’s lament over them – “How the mighty have fallen...”  There is a long war between the house of Saul and the house of David until David is finally established on the throne.  By the time the war is over, there are not many of Saul’s offspring or servants still alive.  In 2 Samuel 9:1 David asks, “Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul to whom I may show kindness for Jonathan’s sake.”  He’s told that there is one grandson of Saul. His name is Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s son.  When Saul and Jonathan’s were killed, Mephibosheth was only five.  His nurse picked him up to flee – she was afraid for his life – and in doing so she fell.  This fall crippled little Mephibosheth.  Now David is asking    how he can fulfill the covenant promise he made to Jonathan, and he hears that Mephiposheth is still alive. Mephibosheth is summoned and falls on his face before David and David tells him “Do not be afraid, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan I will restore to you all the land of your grandfather Saul, and you yourself shall eat at my table always.”  Crippled Mephibosheth, who has very little to bring to this table.  “What is your servant,” Mephibosheth replies in vs. 8, “that you should look upon a dead dog such as I?”

The Son of David
The Lord shall be between me and you, and between my descendants and your descendants forever. How’s that for hesed?  How’s that for grace? How could we read this story and not consider the Son of David – the one who established a new covenant?  The one who is between us and God forever.  How can we consider the friendship of David and Jonathan, and what it meant even beyond death, without thinking of the one who calls us friend?  In John 15 Jesus says the following: “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.  You did not choose me but I chose you.  And I appointed you to go bear fruit, fruit that will last...”  And it always seems to come back to love doesn’t it?  “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”
This is the same kind of self-giving love, of hesed, that we saw between David and Jonathan; the same kind of love that was perfected in the person of Christ Jesus.  This love is between us and God forever.  God loves David is how we started out.  God saves in unexpected ways.  David and Jonathan made a covenant together, just as God sealed a covenant with us through the blood of Jesus, the Son of David.  Like Mephibosheth we say “What is your servant, that you should look upon a dead dog such as I?”  The answer comes back – “You’re my friend.  I love you.  I’ll enable and equip you to go show the same love to others.”  God grant that this is true in the lives of each and every one of us.

Amen

“God Loves David.”  When I first told someone about the title of the sermon I am preaching today they jokingly said “Isn’t that a bit egotistical?!”  The statement is true however, and I want to take a look this morning at what God’s love for meant for the young shepherd boy as he was chosen by God to become King of Israel.  I want to look at how this love points us forward to the man who will be known as the Son of David.  I want also to look at what this love means for us – God’s beloved children – and what this means in terms of how we’re living our lives knowing that we are so loved and so named.  I want to talk about how the love of God is foundational for this man called David, whose very name means “beloved” and what this means for us today.

Background

A few words though first of all on the two books of Samuel, which take place historically between two periods in Israel’s history.  The first period is the time of the Judges, which witnesses to (as OT scholar Walter Brueggemann describes) “an amorphous and unstable tribal mode of life, easily open to religious idolatry, syncretism, and political and military barbarism.”  By 1 Kings, the second period which the books of Samuel are sandwiched between, we have a “centralized political power that pursued an economic monopoly and claimed theological legitimacy for the new institution of monarchy.”  In 1 Samuel 16 we meet the man who was key not only in this transition that was part not only of the social and economic transformation of ancient Israel, but key to God’s plan of salvation – the figure of King David.  It’s been said that David represents one of the three most important figures in the Old Testament, along with Abraham and Moses.  The longest historical narratives are devoted to him – a large part of 1 Samuel, all of 2^nd Samuel and the first part of 1 Kings.  He’s quoted by the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, and Zechariah.  Seventy-three Psalms are attributed to him in their titles. 

But before any of this there’s little David the shepherd boy, the eighth son of Jesse, keeping watch over his father Jesse’s flocks. 

The Story

And Samuel has come to David’s town on what is a bit of a clandestine mission.  Saul has been rejected by God as king, and God has chosen another – “Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.”  Samuel is scared.  He might be the kingmaker – and in Saul’s case the kingbreaker – but Saul still sits on the throne.  “Take a heifer with you and say ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’” God tells Samuel.  This will be your cover story in other words.  The elders of the city are also afraid.  Is he on some kind of mission from Saul – or is he hatching a plot against Saul?  Either way it might not go well for Bethlehem.  “Peaceably I have come to sacrifice to the Lord” Samuel tells them.  And Jesse and his sons are invited to the sacrifice.

 Samuel must have thought he had found who he had been sent to find.  Seven of Jesse’s sons stand before him.  Seven – the number of perfection in the Bible.  “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord,” thinks Samuel when he sees Eliab, the eldest.  Tall, a good looking guy.  But the Lord doesn’t look at the outward appearance, as we do.  Samuel is reminded of this, and the selection process continues.  Abinadab – rejected.  Shammah – not him.  Then there’s a kind of narrative etcetera here – the other 4 are not named, they pass by just as the three oldest boys had and Samuel tells Jesse “The Lord has not chosen any of these.”  “Are there any of your boys who aren’t here?” Samuel asks, and we’re told of one.  The youngest boy, the one who didn’t even get into the lineup.  The one whose task is the lowliest – taking care of his father’s sheep.  And David appears, and despite the fact that we’ve just been told God doesn’t look at outward appearances, we’re told that David is ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome.  This is going to play a role in his story.  Men and women will be drawn to him, which as with most things in life, can be good or not so good.  That’s not why he’s chosen though.  “Rise and anoint him;” the Lord says in vs 12, “for this is the one.”  And history, and salvation history, would never be the same.

“Beloved”

I said earlier that the name David means “beloved”.  Before David is chosen, before he is anointed he is beloved by God.  God loves David.  This is not because of David’s piety or his devotion to God.  Earlier in 1 Samuel 13:14 Samuel tells Saul “but now your kingdom will not continue; the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart.”  A man after his own heart.  This doesn’t mean what we take it to mean when we agree with someone and say “You’re a man or woman after my own heart!”  God’s not saying that David is just like him.  It means that God is going to establish a king on the throne of Israel who is a man of God’s choosing – not Israel’s choosing like Saul was.  David is a man of God’s choosing, but before being chosen, called , anointed – he is loved. 

David reacted to that love – of course he did!  Look at the words of Psalm 18: “I love you, O Lord, my strength./The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,/ my God, my rock in whom I take refuge,/my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”  This is how David reacted to God’s love, but before this God loves David.  The same song is found in 2 Samuel 22 and in vs 2 it starts out not with “I love you,” but with the words “The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,/my God my rock, in whom I take refuge...”  In other words, the foundation of David’s life is not the he loves the Lord so much, but that the Lord loves him!

Do we know this?  Are we live our lives, as we’re following Christ are we coming to an understanding of God’s love for us?  I ran this sermon title by a friend of mine and they said to me jokingly “Well that’s kind of egotistical isn’t it?”  God loves David.  “No it’s not,” I said “because it’s true.  He loves you too.”  I was thinking on this and saying to myself, “Isn’t this Level One Christianity?  Isn’t this something we all know – God loves us?  Haven’t many of us been singing “Jesus Loves Me” since Sunday school?”  Do we know it though?  We don’t know it.  We know part of it, and as we’re walking with Christ down this journey we call life, and we walk down it together, we’re hopefully coming to understand it more.  Paul knew how important this was.  How many times did he tell the churches he wrote that that he prayed that they would come to an ever fuller understanding of God’s love.  That they would come to grasp the height and depth and length and breadth of God’s love.  John in his 1^st letter knew it “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God.”

And how can we think of this truth without thinking of the one they called “Son of David.”  Do you know who the second person mentioned in the New Testament is?  I’ll give you a hint, Matthew 1:1.  “An account of Jesus, the Messiah, the son of David...”  The son of David.  The son of the beloved one.  The beloved one himself!  Look at the first words that are heard from heaven when Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan River – they’re recorded in all three synoptic Gospels.  We can stick with Matthew and take a look at Matthew 3:16-17 – “And when Jesus had been baptized just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened  to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending on him like a dove and alighting on him.  And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” 

These are the first words God has to say about Jesus as Jesus is about to begin his ministry.  This is my Son, the Beloved... or as some translations have it, “This is my beloved son.”  Before there is anything else there is this wonderful truth.  Is it something we’ve gotten used to?  Is it something we take for granted sometimes?  Are we coming to a deeper understanding of God’s love in our hearts and our souls?  Can we say the truth of God’s love is changing us, changing how we see ourselves, changing how we see others also as God’s beloved children? 

I pray this may be the case.  I pray that as we’re going through this series this summer – “Matters of the Heart” that we’ll remember what is foundational to the David story, foundational to the salvation story, foundational to Christ’s story, and indeed foundational to all our stories – the truth that we are beloved by God.  That we are God’s children – “See what love the Father has given us,” John writes in his first letter, “that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.”  Is it self-serving to say “God Loves David”?  I admit I was thinking a little tongue in cheek when I chose that title.  It is self-serving if we think of God’s love as reflective of how we too often love – we love people based on how lovable they are.  Based on how much they are like us maybe.  With God’s love we see something different and we try to frame it in words that could never do it justice – unconditional, unfailing, extravagant...  Something we’ll never fully get our minds around – but I pray over the course of the coming weeks we’re getting our minds ever more fully around it.

Annointed

We read about Jesus being anointed by the Holy Spirit in the verses from Matthew we just looked at.  David is anointed as well in our story.  “Fill your horn with oil,” Samuel had been told, and when he sees young David, ruddy and handsome and with those eyes he puts the oil to use.  Verse 13 reads “Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers...”  There if of course another anointing that we read about in the latter part of the verse – “...and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that time onwards.”  And Samuel leaves Bethlehem and sets out for Ramah.

The spirit of the Lord that had come upon Saul, and that we read in vs 14 departed from him, came on David mightily from that day forward.  So not only is David beloved, he is anointed by God’s spirit.  Equipped for the work that God has chosen him to do, the work that he has been called to do. One commentator describes it this way, in comparing the gift of the Spirit David receives to the gift of the Holy Spirit that we have received: “In both cases... the indwelling of the Spirit is not a possession to be hugged to oneself with pride but an enabling power for the benefit and service of others.”  And listen to this view of what kingship meant to the Israelites: “Kingship was not meant as a gift to the individual, to feed his arrogance and vanity, but as a gift to the nation, to whom the king’s duty was to act as a shepherd.”

How fitting it was then, that this young shepherd boy was chosen to be the one to shepherd Israel.  The gift of the Spirit as an enabling power for the benefit and service to others.  We see David exercising this gift in the next passage, as Saul calls for him to play music to give him relief from the evil spirit we read is plaguing him.  And we read in vs 23 that “...whenever the evil spirit from God came upon Saul, David took the lyre and played it with his hand, and Saul would be relieved and the evil spirit would depart from him.” 

And it is the same spirit that we read about anointing Jesus at his baptism.  The same spirit of God that Jesus promised would come upon his followers.  The same spirit that enabled the church that we’ve been reading about and studying week after week.  The Spirit that is not a possession to be hugged to oneself with pride but an enabling power for the benefit and service of others.  This is the other half of the equation.  David is loved by God, just as we are loved by God.  And he is also equipped by God to show the same love he has been shown.

How well did David’s job as shepherd equip him to be used by God for the benefit and service of others, just as his job was to act for the benefit and service of the sheep he tended. The fact that we are loved by God is the starting point, and as we come to know more and more what the truth that we are loved by God really means, as we open our hearts to be transformed by this truth, and the Spirit of God works within us – “falls fresh” on us as one song goes – and works through us, people notice.  God’s spirit will work through David in the next section of chapter 16 as he plays music for Saul.  But note what Saul’s attendant says about the young shepherd in vs 18: “I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite who is skilful in playing, a man of valor, a warrior, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence: and the Lord is with him.”

The Lord is with him.  When the Lord is with us, and the Holy Spirit is working in and through us, people will notice.  I told a story at our AGM.  We’re going to Horizons For Youth every Saturday morning to work and visit with the residents.  The first morning we came in, one of the residents asked “Are you movie stars?”  A couple of weeks ago, we were sitting around, having just finished eating.  A resident came in after having been out and about and came up to the table we were at to introduce himself.  He asked “Are you missionaries?”  Later on we asked him why he said that, or what gave him that idea.  He said that he felt a lot of love around that table and thought that the Spirit of God was involved somehow.  The Spirit of God is with them, and when we’re open to the Spirit leading, teaching, and forming us, people will notice!

Conclusion

Over the next couple of weeks, I hope to talk more about how David left himself open to God’s leading in his life, and how we might do the same.  Let us remember though that everything that happened within and through David was a response to God’s loving initiative.  Little David, the beloved one, who will soon begin to use the gifts he has been given in God’s service.  As we look at these stories of King David over the next two months, may we too be transformed by an ever deeper knowledge of God’s great love for us, and challenged and equipped to show this love in the service of our King, Christ Jesus.

The hour of darkness

It happened once per year. On the Day of Atonement the high priest went into the most holy place, the inner chamber of the Jerusalem Temple, taking the blood of a sacrifice for his own sin and the sin of the whole people of God.

According to The Interpreter’s Dictionary of The Bible this day “played a formative and influential role in the whole of Judaism, especially in the two or three centuries just before the rise of Christianity” (volume 1, p. 313).

It must have been a majestic day. Seven days before, the high priest “left his home to take up residence in his apartment in the Temple. …On the eve of the Day he ate very lightly, for he was to maintain an all night vigil. The elders admonished him to be correct in the ritual and to weep at his vigil. During the night younger priests kept him awake by reading. On the morning, having bathed, and in his finest array, he offered the burnt offering, which was elaborate on this day. Then he changed to the white linen garb of a penitent and was ready to officiate at the atonement ceremonies” (ibid., p.314).

The significance of this day can hardly be overestimated. The whole nation had a sense of renewal and joy. One rabbi suggested that on this holiest of days, “for three hours Satan does not accuse Israel before God. It was a moment when the covenant relationship was pure and God’s intervention was anticipated. In his brief prayer in the Temple following the censing of the holy of holies, the high priest asked for a year of abundance and for the coming of Messiah” (ibid., p. 316, emphasis added). One person put it this way. This was the Good Friday of the Old Testament.

A people were in pursuit of God. But only one of them was permitted access to the most holy place, known by the people as the dwelling place of God on earth. There can be no doubt that God pursues us, but we also long to know God, to speak with God, to connect with God. We know that Augustine had it right when he said there is a God-shaped space within us that only God can fill. We want to come close to God, and that’s what Jesus makes possible.

Jesus is our great high priest. He is this for us because he lived and died in obedience. Let me try something out on you. I cannot help but think that when the author of Hebrews wrote this letter or sermon, he had in mind the contrast between Jesus and those who filled the role of high priest in Jesus’ day.

I also wonder if there is not a note of at least regret if not sarcasm in what is said. The high priest is spoken of as someone who is aware of his own sinfulness and who therefore deals gently with those under his care. He is also spoken of as one who does not presume to this honour and who knows his role is to bring the promises of God to a people in need of comfort and hope.

The reality did not come close to that description. The high priest was in that position at the pleasure of Rome. Rather than being aware of his own failings, there is every indication the high priest in Jesus’ day sought and flaunted the privilege that came with his office. It is also apparent the things of politics occupied his attention at least as much as the things of God. Luke tells us at the beginning of his gospel Jesus began his ministry during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas (Luke 3:2). If you have two men, one could be the high priest and the other the higher priest, but two cannot be high priest together. The role has become one of intrigue and arrangement rather than love and leadership.

How is Jesus different? Jesus lived and died in obedience. Our text says we have a high priest who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. It also says he offered up prayers…with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death.

We must recognize that we are dealing here with a mystery. Words alone can never wrap up for us this truth in a neat package. Jesus is both divine and human. I believe Jesus experienced the whole of human life as it was known in that time and place. He lived what he needed to live in order to be the Saviour.

In the garden, prior to his arrest, Jesus came to that place in life where he could do nothing less than beg for God to offer a different path. This is part of what it means to be human.

We know this. There is a part of us that recoils at the thought of the Son of God in such agony that he prays with heartache about where the path of life is taking him. But without this, could he be our Saviour? Without this, would we believe that he knew anything of what it is like to be one of us?

You know what I mean. The news from the doctor is not what we had hoped. You come back after lunch on a Friday and the boss is there asking you to clean out your desk. Your professor says the proposal isn’t up to his expectations and you need to think about a major revision. A relationship you thought had such promise ends and you are heart broken. Your teenager knows how important the faith is for you but it isn’t real to him.

How could Jesus know us and know what it means to be a part of us unless there was that night when he had to pray, “O God, anything else but this.”?

Jesus lived and died in obedience to God. The answer to Jesus’ prayer was simple. “You must do my will.” That is what Jesus did.

What happens because of this? The way to God is opened. People in pursuit of God can find God, can reach out to God, can know God’s presence and peace. Jesus is the great high priest. His obedient sacrifice is a once-and-for-all event. The way to God has been opened. We know that way as faith in Jesus, faith in what Jesus did, faith in what Jesus taught, faith in who Jesus is.

What does this mean to us? There are two things. We are to approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. And, we are to hold fast to our confession.

It would be fair of you to say to me today, “Bill you haven’t got a clue what my life is like right now.” You would be right. But Jesus knows what is going on and because be has passed through the heavens he has made available mercy and grace in time of need. Jesus, on that night in the garden, thought that he could go no further. God helped him and God will help you.

Are you standing at “Wits’ End Corner,”

Christian with troubled brow?

Are you thinking of what is before you,

And all you are bearing now?

Does the world seem against you,

And you in the battle alone?

Remember—to “Wits’ End Corner.”

Is just where God’s power is shown.

Are you standing at “Wits’ End Corner,”

Blinded with wearying pain,

Feeling you cannot endure it,

You cannot bear the strain,

Bruised through the constant suffering

Dizzy, and dazed, and numb?

Remember—to “Wits’ End Corner”

Is where Jesus loves to come!
 
Are you standing at “Wits’ End Corner,”

Then you’re just in the very spot,

to learn the wondrous resources,

Of Him who fails not!

No doubt to a brighter pathway

your footsteps will soon be removed,

But only at “Wits’ End Corner”

Is “the God who is able” proved!
Here’s the last thing. Hold on to your faith; hold it tight. Why is this said? Is this the word of the preacher both ancient and contemporary who worries about the loss of members? What will we tell the denomination if the numbers go down?

No, this is the word of the preacher who says, “The faith is worth holding on to.” You see, we are in pursuit of God. Do you doubt that? The church may have seen better days but spirituality has never been as “hot” a topic as it is now. Tom Harpur writes about prayer and calls it “a practical and personal approach to awakening a greater intimacy with God.” Dr. Herbert Benson of Harvard describes humans as being “wired for God.”

There was one day when only one man, and him only once per year, broke through the curtain in pursuit of God. There was another day when one person, Jesus, not only broke through that curtain, but tore that curtain in two, passing through to the heavens in pursuit of God. Today, that way is open to every person to pursue and find the God and Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

It’s worth holding on to.

The Story: The king who had it all

Defined by Generosity

I sometimes wonder what it would have felt like to be one of the first generation of Christians. There would certainly have been a sense of excitement each day as one saw evidence of God at work in a miraculous way. But I suspect there was also a sense of uncertainty, a realization that if there was any power held by the followers of Jesus, it was spiritual power and not the power of religion, not the power of the state. It seems to me there might also have been what I will call a wondering that was part of the early church, a wondering about the character or culture that was developing in the church, a wondering about what sort of attributes would define those who followed the way of Jesus.
I mostly suspect there was this wondering back then because it seems to me there is much wondering now. Our world, of course, is a much different place. Yet, there are similarities. There are no shortage of churches in our city. According to yellowpages.ca there are more than 3,000 entires in the church category. The world is still a religious place. We hear stories of growth, even miraculous growth in Africa. There were only nine million Christians in Africa in 1900, but by the year 2000, there were an estimated 380 million Christians. After 2,000 years those who follow Jesus are still a threat to the world’s established powers. Just this summer the Iranian Christian News Agency “Mohabat News” reported that Dr. Majid Abhari, advisor to the social issues committee of the parliament in Iran, announced the seizure of six thousand five hundred copies of the Bible, confiscated in the north-western Iranian province of Zanjan. Abhari also said “these missionaries with reliance on huge money and propaganda are trying to deviate our youth.”
Who will we be in such a world? What will be the character or culture of the church. What sort of attributes will define those today who follow the way of Jesus? Let’s consider those questions as we look at the story of someone who I think significantly helped the early church figure out who they were going to be.
Barnabas was a Levite by birth, a member of the Jewish tribe that carried out the temple duties. His family moved to Cyprus and Barnabas did not serve in the temple. When we first meet Barnabas in Acts 4, his name is Joseph. Barnabas is the name given to him by the Apostles, and it was a great compliment, representative of his Christian character. The name Barnabas means “son of encouragement,” and he became a champion of encouragement.
There are many examples of how Barnabas encouraged others in the book of Acts. He befriended Paul and encouraged him when others were quick to reject him (Acts 9:26, 27). He encouraged Mark and was ready to give him a “second chance” (Acts 15:36-39). He encouraged the believers at Antioch to use their spiritual gifts and to remain faithful in their service of the Lord (Acts 11:22-26).
In our text from Acts 4, Barnabas encouraged the early church to extend a ministry to the poor and needy by giving money to the church. Joseph lived up to his nick-name. He was an encourager! Luke, the author of Acts, describes exactly what Barnabas did. He sold a field that belonged to him, then brought the money, and laid it at the apostle’s feet (4:37).
Let’s put this story just to the edge of our minds and look at a text from the Hebrew scriptures. It’s taken from Numbers 18:21–24. There are two things we need to note. First of all the tithes, that is the tenth of income or harvest that is collected from the people of Israel, belongs to the Levites in return for the service they perform organizing and conducting the worship of what was then the tent of meeting.
The second thing to note is the Levites are excluded from the distribution of land to the various tribes of Israel. Their heritage is to be the service of the Lord—they shall have no allotment among the Israelites (18:24).
What then is the first thing we would be expected to notice about Barnabas from the story Luke tells us in Acts 4. The family of Barnabas, as residents of Cyprus, did not serve in the Temple. They were wealthy enough to be landowners. Think about this for a minute. What would you rather have as your possession? The deed to a piece of land or the knowledge that through the centuries your ancestors had served the tent and temple.
Now here in church we know what the “right” answer is—some of us might even quote the psalm: I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness (Psalm 84:10b). But let us get back into what we call the real world and we know what the answer is likely to be—I’ll take that deed, thank you very much.
Now, let’s play a bit with the intersection of these two texts. Joseph, a Levite, has come to believe that God has fulfilled the promise of a Messiah in the person of Jesus. Joseph has come to believe that a new reality is being inaugurated by God through the death and resurrection of Jesus. But Joseph has not turned from one god to another. Joseph has come to believe the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of Moses and King David and Jeremiah has fulfilled the promises made through the prophets. Joseph has come to believe the God who made him a Levite has also called him to follow Jesus of Nazareth.
What else then does Luke want us to notice in the story he tells about this son of encouragement? Surely a Levite knows the scriptures. He knows first that the tithes of God’s people belonged to the Levites. He knows also that serving the Lord was always intended to be his heritage, his true possession.
When Joseph sells the field and brings the money to the apostles what is going on? Here’s what I think. I think Joseph brings the money as a way of acknowledging what the tithe has always been about. In the words of Malachi, God says put me to the test. As far as I know, while there are other places where one of God’s people initiates some sort of test, this is the only place in scripture where God invites the test. Tithing has always been about recognizing that God is the owner of the world and God’s people are called to be faithful stewards.
Tithing is God’s way for us to recognize that it is God who can open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.
And there may be something else going on. Just a guess, nothing more than that. Joseph would have also known that Levites were also called to tithe. When you receive from the Israelites the tithe that I have given you from them for your portion, you shall set apart an offering from it to the Lord, a tithe of the tithe (Numbers 18:26). I wonder if Joseph realized he had been robbing God, not giving generously, and this was his way of setting things right.
Joseph, the son of encouragement was a trustworthy steward. His gift encouraged the church of Jesus Christ. This happened because:
First, Joseph’s gift was unselfish. He did not hoard or use his resources in a selfish way. The need was so great and he had the financial resources to do something about the plight of the poor. His giving was an unselfish act!
It is encouraging to learn of those who give generously to help others. Materialism in our culture wages a battle with generosity over our response to the needs of others. I believe it is an encouragement to the community of faith to see the generosity of others.
The reason I say this is the order of things presented by Luke in the story. It may be the story of Joseph’s gift is simply an example of the giving that went on within the early church. However, it is in verse 34 that we are told as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. Then we are told Joseph brought the proceeds of his land sale. It is possible then that Joseph saw the example of others and was encouraged to give also. But I have no doubt Joseph’s gift was an encouragement to others because the church ended up calling him “the son of encouragement.”
The second thing to notice is Joseph’s gift enabled the church to minister and meet the needs of the people. The generosity of Joseph and others enabled the church to minister and meet the needs of all the people. Acts 4:34 states, There was not a needy person among them.
The needs of the community of faith were met because the people took seriously the idea that they were to be faithful stewards of what God had entrusted to them.
Here then is the question for today? Will you sign on to be a member of the Order of Barnabas? Don’t worry. I’m not starting another organization. There are no meetings to attend, no secret handshake to master. Every Christian is called to be part of the Order of Barnabas. Every Christian is called to follow Jesus, the greatest giver. Therefore, every Christian is called to give in response to the gracious hand of God at work in our lives.
There is a third text I would like us to look at briefly, Proverbs 11:24, 25. Some give freely, yet grow all the richer; others withhold what is due, and only suffer want. A generous person will be enriched, and one who gives water will get water. There is a temptation to believe that is some sort of formula. All of us know  that’s not true. Generosity is not magic; it is not some sort of guarantee. Yet there is spiritual life and vitality that I believe is a part of what happens when our lives are defined by generosity.
I’m going to say more about this next Sunday when we finish this series. For today, Thanksgiving Sunday, I couldn’t think of a better conclusion than a story offered by Adam Hamilton when he preached about generosity. (Film clip, To be a blessing, the story of Jeff Hanson)

Everything I have is yours

It is a curious thing. Years ago I read about the high percentage of first-born sons who are members of the clergy in both the Roman Catholic and Protestant branches of the Christian church. I suppose there are many reasons for it; one is a long-standing tradition. I wonder if there isn’t something a little deeper—those of us who are first borns trying to undo the damage to our collective reputation seen here in the fifteenth chapter of Luke.
Yet, many of us, if we have done anything, have reinforced the image of the hard-hearted, unforgiving religious official who behaves as if it is only his righteousness that is going to stem the tide of sin. Mark Twain captured the essence of this sort of fellow when he said, “He’s a good man—in the worst sense of the word!” You’ve met the type; there are days when some have accused me of being the type; there are days when I have well-fit that unflattering description. One knows it’s that sort of day when you catch yourself thinking, “even God must be pleased with how righteous I am.”
Still, there is something in this story that just doesn’t sit right. That’s what I want to explore with you today. If you have your Bible with you, please turn to Luke 15. In the Bibles in the pews you can find our text on page 78. Let’s be sure we have the context in our minds before we go any further. Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Luke is setting the scene. Those with official religious status are objecting to the sort of people Jesus welcomes into relationship. In response Jesus tells three parables. We talked about the first two last month. A shepherd loses one of ninety-nine sheep, searches for it until he finds it and then rejoices. A woman loses one of ten coins, searches for it until she finds it and then rejoices.
Then comes the third story. Obviously, there is more to this story, but at the heart of it it is a story about a lost boy. Notice also the percentage of loss has been turned up—it has gone from 1% to 10% to 50%. Wait a minute, someone will say. The sheep wandered away; who knows how the coin was lost, but this prodigal is the author of his own misfortune. He insults his father in the most grievous way and then spends his entire inheritance. He has no one to blame but himself. Absolutely right. However Jesus is very careful in the story to make the connection between the lost sheep and the lost coin and the younger brother. Twice the father defines what has happened—he was lost and now is found.
I am confident then in saying there was one question Jesus expected would be asked by his audience when he told the third of the stories—any guesses? The question is this: the shepherd went after the lost sheep, the woman went after the lost coin, who is going to go after the lost son?
The answer of this culture is clear. Remember what happens when the inheritance is divided? For two sons, there are three shares, two of those shares going to the eldest. Tim Keller claims this is one of the reasons why the eldest receives the double portion. “It was his job to sustain the family unity and its place in the community.” Notice again how the story is set up by Jesus. The shepherd goes after the lost one until he finds it. The woman searches carefully until she finds the coin. The eldest son would be expected to go to his father, and say, “Dad, my brother has been a fool; you know it and I know it. But our family cannot be whole again until he is found and brought back within our circle of love and grace. I am going to look for him and I won’t be back until I find him.”
That is not how Jesus tells the story. Instead it appears the eldest is simply content to continue working the family farm until it all belongs to him. Something happens instead: Jesus simply says about the younger son, that he came to himself. He realized that he needed to go home.
Friends, here is a truth that keeps us going as individual Christians and as a church. Let me choose my words as carefully as I can: the perspective of Scripture is that a person outside of the grace and forgiveness and love of the family of God is lost. Also, as stubborn and as resistant as we can be, God has not left himself without a witness. Something within brought that boy to his senses and he knew he did not belong in the pig trough, he belonged at very least within reach of his family. That’s part of the reason this church exists, to open the door to the family of God when someone lost comes to their spiritual senses. Friends, our work for God at Blythwood is not done.
Before we get all mushy and sentimental about this, the eldest son reminds us of something: this work will cost somebody something. The father in the story confirms this. Look at verses 30 and 31 of our text. The elder son is furious about the welcome that has been given to his brother. He is so angry he refuses even to recognize the relationship that he has with his brother—he refers to him as this son of yours, who has devoured your property with prostitutes. The father replies, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” That’s a fascinating way to put it, isn’t it, considering that as part of his greeting to the younger son, the father has had a servant bring the best robe, a ring, and sandals; he’s killed the fatted calf and hired a band for the party. This forgiveness has not been free and seeing as the father has admitted that everything he has belongs to the elder son, then it is he that is footing the bill and he is anything but happy about it.
What then is Jesus driving at in this story? Is this about you and the brother that have never seen eye to eye? Is this about you and the sister who ran off somewhere but who is still the apple of your father’s eye? There may be some things here that connect with the ups and downs, the pain and pleasure of relationships, but at the heart of it I think there is something spiritually deeper.
Do you remember a few minutes ago I said the question Jesus wanted his listeners to ask was this: who is going to go after the lost son? Whose job was it? It was the elder brother who should have done this. It was the elder brother who should have told his father he was going to search for the one who was lost and would not rest until he had found him.
What we have discovered is that this elder brother also needed an elder brother. One can only guess why the elder brother has stuck around the farm so long. Despite the fact that he claims never to have disobeyed a command (v. 29), he also is prepared to embarrass his father in the eyes of the community by refusing to go into the party the father is hosting. The father has also to go out to him pleading for him to understand the joy that has now returned to their home. In other words, the elder son has never gone anywhere and he too is a lost soul. He needs an elder brother who will find him and enclose his life in the love of the family of God.
I think Jesus wants us to come to the place of understanding that in our spiritual lives we need an elder brother who will do all that he can to sustain the unity of the family and its place in the community. As Tim Keller has put it: “We need one who would not just go into a far country, but who would come all the way from heaven to earth to find us. We need one who would not just open his wallet for us, but pour out his life. One who would pay not just a finite cost but an infinite debt, to bring us back into God’s family. And we do! It’s Jesus.
“When the father says to the elder brother ‘everything I have is yours’ that is literally true of Jesus. Jesus had all God’s glory. He had equal glory with the Father, but he emptied himself (Philippians 2:4–10). He lost it all—for us. How do we get the father’s robe? Because Jesus was stripped naked on the cross. How do we get the father’s feast? Because Jesus took the cup of wrath that we might have the cup of joy. He is our true elder brother—and he says so. Hebrews 2:11 says, ‘For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.’”
Friends, I think this insight about the need for an elder brother who will search for the lost is at the very heart of this story. I think this is why Tim Keller has subtitled his book, Rediscovering the heart of the Christian faith. We know the truth of this, but we forget: none of us needs a club, for that there’s Rotary or the library book circle; none of us needs another meeting to attend, for that there’s the hockey league or the business breakfast network; none of us needs the news about more good causes, the internet is everywhere, the good causes will find us. But if outside the family of God you and I are lost, then we need the one who is going to search until he finds us, the one who is going to pay the enormous cost, the one who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame. The heart of the story is that we need Jesus.
I need Jesus. Let me say that again, I need Jesus. The problem is I am the elder brother—I truly am the eldest child in my family. The closest I ever got to wasting half the family fortune was one night forty plus summers ago when I was in a hurry to get from my job at Dominion to my other job as a softball umpire. Backing the car out of my parking spot I stopped just after I had put a dent in the bumper.
I truly am the eldest child in my family—I became the religious official, the descendant of the Pharisees and scribes. Do you know what? There are even days when I am a good person—in the best sense of the word, not many days, but there are a few. There is an important sense in which that matters. My neighbours would say it matters. My grandchildren would say it matters.
Here’s the thing: at the very core of my being I am in rebellion against God. For some it looks obvious—they’re off in a far country wasting their very lives. For others it’s not so obvious at all—we hang around home trying to prove to ourselves and everyone else that we have no need of God, that we are good enough without God. I am lost, you are lost; we need Jesus to search for us and find us and bring us home to the Father’s love.

Matthew 10:2-15 (NIV)

 2 These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon (who is called Peter) and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; 3 Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; 4 Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.  5 These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. 6 Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel. 7 As you go, proclaim this message: ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ 8 Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy,[a] drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give. 9 “Do not get any gold or silver or copper to take with you in your belts— 10 no bag for the journey or extra shirt or sandals or a staff, for the worker is worth his keep. 11 Whatever town or village you enter, search there for some worthy person and stay at their house until you leave. 12 As you enter the home, give it your greeting. 13 If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you. 14 If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet. 15 Truly I tell you, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town. 

The Story: Jesus' ministry begins

I wonder what it was like to be John the Baptizer. I wonder how much his parents told him about his unexpected birth and the strange circumstances that surrounded the news coming to his father Zechariah, that he had been struck speechless until the day the baby was taken to be named and circumcised. I wonder if his mother, Elizabeth, told him about the more incredible circumstances surrounding another miraculous birth—that of his second cousin Jesus to Mary. At what point in John’s life did he sense the call to a wilderness preaching mission? Zechariah was a priest. Would it be assumed that John would follow in his father’s footsteps? If so, did John move from being someone on the inside of the religious life of the nation to being on the far side of the Jordan, to being so far outside the establishment that even his food and clothing are thought strange? —John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey.
We have come today to chapter 23 of The Story. During the month of April we are going to continue through the story of Jesus’ life, although to be strictly correct we are going to deal with a small segment of his life, about one tenth of the time Jesus spent on this earth. We are dealing with Jesus’ ministry of teaching and healing, the developing conflict with the religious and governmental authorities and finally his death and resurrection.
The narrative is condensed and it has a specific purpose. If you were only able to read the gospel of Mark you would have a sense of great urgency, as if the whole thing happened in the space of a month. Today I want to focus our attention on the figure of John the Baptizer, because I think he is given by God this incredible role within the coming of the Christ or Messiah, and yet he also is the one through whom the probing question about Jesus is given a voice.
The gospel writers give us no background information about John. When they pick up the story John’s ministry has already begun. There is enough of a buzz about John in Jerusalem that the Pharisees have sent a delegation to ask a few questions. Are you the Messiah? What about Elijah? A prophet then? John says no, no, no. Then who are you they ask. He gives them an answer that is based in the words of Isaiah. “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord.’”
Let’s pause here for a moment. This quote is based on Isaiah 40:3. In Isaiah 40 the prophet makes an obvious turn in the message he is giving from God. That turn is highlighted by the opening of the chapter. Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. The next sentence is about making a straight highway in the desert for our God.
Here’s how I think we are intended to put this together; when John calls to mind Isaiah’s word of comfort, he is reminding the people that they were once in exile, ruled by a foreign power and that through the prophet the word of restoration had been preached to them. Make a straight highway because you are going home!
John the Baptizer has set up his preaching mission on the other side of the Jordan River. When asked who he is, he says he’s the one calling the people to make straight the way of the Lord. Who are these people? They are ruled by a foreign power and long for the day when their nation will once again be free. Right from the start it was clear in John’s mind that God was up to something every bit as important as the exodus from Egypt and the return from exile. God’s people were going to be free.
Once again we are frustrated by the lack of detail. Did John preach every day? What about the disciples who came to learn from him? What did he teach them? Was it part of their job to go into the cities and towns and invite people to come out to hear John and then be baptized?
Baptism was something that was required of any non-Jew who became a convert to Judaism. Males, of course, were also required to be circumcised. This baptism required of converts was a symbol of their being ritually clean. As such while only one baptism was required at conversion, baptism could also be asked for any time one wanted to symbolize the need for ritual cleanliness. According to one article I read, places for such cleansing, called ritualariums, are still used in some Orthodox Jewish communities.
It seems, however, that John did something new with the baptisms which he conducted. His was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Again, right from the beginning, it seems as if John knew there was something different, something new about this thing that God was going to do. When John saw Jesus he said to the crowds, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” It appears to me then that John had some sense, some leading from God, that helped him to understand that the old way, the way of sacrifice after sacrifice, was somehow coming to an end, that through the one who was the Christ or Messiah, the sin of the world would be dealt with once and for all.
That is a theme to which we will return later this month, but for today, I want to go on to talk about what happens to John. John seems to have been a simple and practical person. When people came to be baptized he told them to share with those who had less. He told tax collectors to stop cheating people. He told soldiers to stop being bullies and be satisfied with their wages. John had a clear cut, right and wrong vision of the world. This makes sense, because through this new thing that God was up to, God was going to deal with the sin of the world. If John saw sin, he pointed it out. Some people wanted to know what was wrong so they could change their ways. The king was not one of them.
Herod Antipas was one of the sons of the king known as Herod the Great. He ruled Palestine at the time Jesus was born. At the time of his death the territory he ruled was divided by the Romans. Herod Antipas became ruler of Galilee. If you paid as little attention to the details when you were a child as I did, you also likely thought that the Herod who was ruler when Jesus was born was still around at the time of his ministry. Not so; same family but one was the father and one was the son.
Antipas had been married in the year 14 A. D. Likely it was a marriage instigated by Augustus, the emperor, because the woman he married was the daughter of Aretas IV, the Nabatean king. Augustus is known to have favoured such marriages between the ruling families of the various parts of the empire because it promoted harmony between areas that were known for conflict.
Around 15 years later (29 A.D.) Antipas made a journey to Rome. On his way he paid a visit to his half brother Philip who lived in one of the coastal cities of Palestine. Antipas became infatuated with Philip’s wife Herodias. It appears that Herodias thought it was a better bargain to be married to the more powerful brother and agreed to the marriage as long as Antipas simply got rid of the daughter of Aretas. When this new arrangement came to the attention of John the Baptizer, he called it for what it was—sin. Not surprisingly he ended up in Herod’s prison.
Now we come to a text which has long fascinated me. You can find it at the bottom of page 275 of The Story. When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?” In his reply, among the things Jesus said are two that I think are crucial to our understanding.
“Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”
That’s the first thing. Then Jesus talks about John and his ministry. He sums up John’s identity with this. “For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come.”
Jesus can make people stumble. John was preaching with conviction and passion over on the other side of the Jordan about the need for God’s people to repent and get their lives ready for the one in whom all the promises of God would find their fulfillment. John is so filled with holy boldness that when Herod Antipas violates one of God’s laws, John tells him what he did was wrong and likely also told him that he needed to repent of this wrong in order to get his life ready for God’s Christ or Messiah. When John sees Jesus he declares him to be the one whose life and ministry will deal with the wrong of the world—this is God’s lamb who is going to take away the world’s sin! There isn’t a preacher who has ever lived who could deny that John was a model of faithful proclamation, one worthy of admiration and imitation.
John ends up in prison. I cannot imagine the filth and pain and humiliation associated with such a fate, but it is not hard for me to think that such circumstance would conspire to give you some doubts about all that preaching you did and the one to whom you pointed. If he came to deal with sin, how come Antipas is still living in royal luxury and I’m wasting away in his prison? Why? It’s a good question, isn’t it?
Do you know what it is that Jesus does? He sends him back to his foundation, to his base. John had quoted Isaiah. He said he was a voice crying in the wilderness, trying to make a straight path for God’s anointed. Jesus tells John to think about what else it was the Isaiah had said would be done by the one who was the servant of God—good news to the oppressed, restoration for the brokenhearted, freedom for the prisoner, the year of the Lord’s favour (Isaiah 61:1, 2). One by one Jesus is bringing God’s kingdom into the lives of those who will open their hearts to his message and put their faith in him.
There’s something else I think that doesn’t get reported; there is likely no way to report it in words. It’s the posture of those friends of John who came to Jesus with that question. I think as they turned to take the message to their friend in prison, their heads still hung, their shoulders were still hunched over; there was a slouch to their demeanour. So Jesus says something like this. You wanted a yes or no answer, but God’s Kingdom is given in hints and inclinations. I can’t say anything more about me, but let me tell you about John. John was wrong back when he was asked about his identity. He is the Elijah. He is the one who came to prepare the way for God’s Christ. So you know who he is; and now you know who I am.
Jesus can make people stumble. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve stubbed my toe trying to follow him. But it’s still the same. One by one he is bringing God’s kingdom into the lives of people who need it. One by one Jesus is taking away the sin of the world.

The Story: Rebuilding the walls

The Story:

The Story: Who knows?

Introduction

     I’ve learned a lot about the book of Esther putting this sermon together.  What an interesting book!  It is the only book in the Bible that doesn’t mention God.  No visions.  No appearances.  No miracles.  No prayers.  No Torah observance.  None of that.  For the first 700 years of Christian history, no commentary was written on the book of Esther.  John Calvin never preached from it in his career (and I’m doing it very early in mine).  Martin Luther denounced the book along with the apocryphal book of 2 Maccabees saying, “I am so great an enemy to the second book of the Maccabees and to Esther, that I wish they had not come to us at all, for they have too many heathen unnaturalities.”  Luther was never one to pull any punches you know.

Background

The Story

The Text

What does this mean for us?

What Has This Meant For Me?

So What?

The Story:  The Birth of the King