Only One Out of Ten -- Luke 17:11-19

How do you get under the skin of the most gracious man who ever lived? Jesus never sinned. So he wasn’t grouchy or characterized by an ill temper. But, in our scripture reading this morning, you can tell from his remarks that his expectations exceeded the response he got.

One of the words people most dread hearing today is “cancer.” Though progress has been made in its treatment, the term is still frightening -- very frightening indeed. Some of you here this morning have wrestled with the dire ramifications of being told, “Our tests show that the tumor is malignant.”

Well, in Biblical times, the big, scary word was “leprosy.” It was a double whammy because the disease not only disfigured you physically, as bad as that was, but it also ostracized you socially. Regardless of your status, even if you had been famous, and powerful, and rich, you no longer had the option of living with the general society. Instead, from the point of your diagnosis forward, you were literally an outcast.

In Jesus’ day, there was no upside to leprosy. No medicine was available like it is now. Today, leprosy patients are not usually isolated either. In his book, The Cross and the Crown, Frank Slaughter writes: “Wherever he went, the leper was required to announce his presence with the mournful cry of ‘Unclean! Unclean!,’ a signal for all to draw away, lest they be contaminated by the dread scourge. Lepers could mingle only with their own kind. and could not enter the Temple at Jerusalem, nor any walled city, on pain of being lashed with not less than forty lashes. Since all religious authorities admitted to being utterly without power to cure the leper, what help he obtained could come only from God.”

With this understanding of the hopelessness of their situation, it’s clear that what happened in our scripture reading was more amazing than we catch with a single reading of the text. To put it into perspective, my friends, your odds this week of winning the state lottery are better than your chances back then of being healed of leprosy! Although having all the winning numbers seems impossible, there’s an ever-so-slim gamble that you could. Two thousand years ago, an individual with leprosy was in an impossible situation. What could alter such despairing circumstances? Not a thing. Absolutely nothing. Nada! Zero…zilch…zip.

I unfortunately speak from personal observation this morning when I tell you that it’s not easy for human beings to live without hope, without the slightest possibility that tomorrow can be a better day, that events have a chance, however slight, of turning around. But that’s the locked-in position in which these unclean companions found themselves.

Interestingly, at least one of them was a Samaritan. The ten lived together on the border between Samaria and the Israelite territory of Galilee. Though Israelites and Samaritans didn’t have any social interaction, when you had leprosy, all such distinctions were forgotten. It was good just to have friends, someone to talk to -- others to help in the mad scramble of staying alive.

Now, into the gloom of the forlorn existence of leper colonies came incredible reports of miracles being performed, just like in earlier days. A maverick preacher from Nazareth named Jesus was drawing great crowds. Some believed this attractive young man was the long awaited Messiah, the anointed one from God. In fact, part of his popular appeal was his healing of the sick; including -- would you believe -- isolated occasions when someone was actually cleansed of leprosy.

It must have been that the ears of these ten tingled when they first heard of such news. Now their lips could speak about nothing else. Contact with Jesus became an obsession. But how? Lepers couldn’t attend one of his public meetings. Fortunately, Jesus traveled quite a bit. Maybe they could catch him between stops. If all of them called his name at the same time, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us” – possibly that would get his attention.

Certainly they must have realized making such a request was a long shot, and undoubtedly they knew that what they were asking for was nothing short of a miracle.

The actual interchange between the two parties was brief, and took place at a distance. Once the “gang of ten” had his attention, Jesus responded by shouting back, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” That’s what a healed person was supposed to do, according to the Old Testament law. So the encounter was over almost before it was begun.

What was wonderful is that, somewhere along the way, as these pitiful vagabonds headed to where the priests stayed, they came to realize their miracle had been granted. Their white spots were gone. The clothes were still ragged and dirty, but their bodies were free of this cursed disease. Hey, it couldn’t be -- nevertheless, it was so! They had been healed – all ten of them.

Can you picture in your imagination these adult males jumping for joy like little boys, slapping each other on the back, laughing raucously, checking each other’s bodies for any places that might have been missed, and then jabbering, “Aren’t we the lucky ones now!”

We can understand their excitement. What we can’t understand is that only one of them returned to say, “Thank you.” Apparently, he didn’t even go on to see the priest first! The text reads, “When he saw he was healed, (he) came back, praising God in a loud voice. (Then) he threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.” His body language and his words are the epitome of gratitude and worship. This was genuine thanks being expressed, no question about it. “And he was a Samaritan” -- one of those you have to figure was the least likely to respond as he did.

The surprised remark of our Savior and Lord was: “Were not all ten healed?” “I mean, only one out of ten is here? Where are the other nine? It’s unconscionable that they haven’t come running back, too! Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner? If what I did for them was a small thing, I could understand their neglect. But considering how huge a favor the other nine were also granted, the fact that they didn’t join their friend here in expressing thanks is a bit shocking.”

My friends, if this were an isolated occurrence, we could all shake our heads and say, “Unbelievable. How sad for Jesus. And how sad for these nameless other nine guys.” But my suspicion is that this scene is played out time and again, especially in America and even on the very day we call “Thanksgiving.”

The point of this passage is not all that hard to figure out. When Jesus acts graciously on our behalf, he expects us to express a proper attitude of thanks. Shall I say that again? When Jesus acts graciously on our behalf, he expects us to express a proper attitude of thanks.

You know, probably most of us in attendance today were born in the United States of America. Though not flawless as a nation, the truth is that many in the world still see this as the great land of opportunity. They would trade citizenship with us in an instant. Compared to their living situations, we Americans -- regardless of our circumstances -- have it made. Without question, the United States is the best country in the whole world. We certainly know more than our share of blessings. Whether deserved or not, God has “shed His grace” on America.

Recognizing how fortunate we are, have we as a people returned to Jesus, throwing ourselves at his feet, saying thank you and praising him in a loud voice?

My guess is that naturalized citizens are better at this than the native born, and earlier generations of Americans were probably more inclined toward this type of behavior than are those of this present day. “Wait a minute,” someone protests. “Haven’t we as a nation set aside a whole day specifically to say ‘thank you’ to God for his graciousness to us? Maybe you should preach a message like this sometime in February or March, when thanks is not so much on everybody’s minds.”

Sorry, but no. During this Thanksgiving week, I’m not so sure all that many Americans will be truly thankful to God for his graciousness to them. Unfortunately, it’s relatively easy to spend this national holiday stuffing ourselves with food, while basically forgetting about God and all he’s done on our behalf. I mean, is a quick prayer before diving into the turkey and dressing the total spiritual involvement our forefathers had in mind? Was watching football on television or spending a couple hours at the movies to be the main event of this special Thursday? To earlier generations, I believe that would be unconscionable.

It was less than a year after settling in this new land that the early colonists celebrated their first Thanksgiving. During the harsh first winter, they had lost nearly half of their original party. But they were still thankful to God for this new start on life. Their tradition of a feast, marked by special seasons of prayer and the celebration of God’s goodness, gradually spread from Massachusetts to many of the other New England colonies.

Jump forward about a century and a half and we witness our first president, George Washington, issuing a general proclamation naming November 26, 1789, as a one-time day of national thanksgiving. Then it’s another 75 years before Abraham Lincoln, during the sobering days of the Civil War, proclaims the last Thursday of November, 1863, as “a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father.” This tradition held until 1939, when Franklin Delano Roosevelt -- wanting to help business by lengthening the shopping period before Christmas -- pushed up Thanksgiving Day to one week earlier. Finally, in 1941, Congress voted that it would always be the fourth Thursday of November that was our legal holiday. This year, that’s this coming Thursday. Four days from now will be Thanksgiving Day 2009 in our nation. But again, I’m wondering how much giving of thanks to God will actually take place.

At this point, let me quickly inform everyone that I have no intention of driving us down Guilt Street. Writing a simple thank you note for a gift or an act of kindness can sometimes be the hardest task in the world for some people. If that’s the case, what method do you then use to let God know how grateful you are for all he’s done on your behalf?

Yes, we know that expressing our thanks is important. Scripture declares that “to whom much is given, much is also required.” So, we don’t want to get under Jesus’ skin by clumping ourselves with the nine lepers who were granted so much, but never even came back to say thank you. Yet, how we’re supposed to go about expressing our thanks is the dilemma we’re faced with.

Here’s my suggestion. Sometime today, I want you to write down at least 25 items for which you would thank Jesus, were he here in the flesh. Now, look: this is not a get-it-done-as-fast-as-possible test. So don’t write down the names of all the different people in your extended family. “My amazing, beautiful, virtually perfect grandchildren” – that’s okay as one item.

What I’m asking you to do is to make a list of specifics for which you would thank Jesus, were he somewhere in the area nearby. So they can’t be silly and trivial items like “when the sermon is short.” Simply write, “Thank you Jesus for…” and then start your list, including items like these: educational opportunities; forgiveness of my sins; good health; the privilege of prayer; a roof over my head; a steady income.

“Thank you Jesus for…” my invitation to your table each week; the joy of giving to your work; my five senses; the opportunity to vote my conscience; my soul mate; a stable government.

“Thank you Jesus for…” assurance about life after death; beautiful stars at night; the chance to travel; your patience with my spiritual progress; the place you have prepared for me in Heaven; even for problems that help me grow spiritually.

Okay, I’ve suggested 18 to get you started. Before this Sunday ends, you should easily be half-way through your list of fifty. I believe all of us can make it to fifty, but it won’t be that easy. I chose that number because it takes a while to come up with that many. The last eight or ten are the hardest.

But you have Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to complete the assignment. Doing so ought to keep you in a thankful mood. If you’re anything like me, your mind will stay alert to obvious items that you should include.

Because most of you won’t work on Thursday, why not start the day by thanking Jesus for making a special stop at your house on Thanksgiving morning? Tell him how perfect his timing is, because you have just written out a list of 50 reasons for being thankful to him. Then go over your list, elaborating on some of the items if you want: “For example, number four here. Well, you remember the despairing circumstances I was in. No one knew how to help. They all said nothing could be done. Absolutely nothing. And that’s when you came through, Jesus. When I had no hope, suddenly it was like I had been granted a miracle. Pardon my tears, Jesus, but it’s like you shed your grace on me and mine, and I’m just so deeply grateful.”

Has Jesus ever done something big for you like that? Then please be ready this week to join with that faithful Samaritan, and express to him your sincere praise and thanksgiving. Perhaps you can even share a few of the listings at your Thanksgiving table, if you feel it’s appropriate.

This year, my friends, if our Savior and Lord wonders where all the others are he helped who haven’t said “thank you,” may none of that sad and selfish group be from this congregation.

Let’s pray: Lord Jesus, there is so much for which we are thankful. Sometimes it’s difficult to put it into words. But you know our hearts and minds. You know that we are grateful to you for all of our many blessings. During this week of Thanksgiving, help us find the words to express our appreciation to you. Amidst all of the family, and fellowship, and food, and football, and fun, may we really and truly be thankful. In your name we pray. Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * November 22, 2009

The Tidal Wave of History -- Mark 13:1-8

In 1999, the Knights Templar of Oklahoma -- a Masonic organization -- selected me from among ministers in the state to participate in the group’s annual Holy Land pilgrimage to be held the following year. I will never forget when our group of clergy from all across the country arrived at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. As we got off the tour bus, a woman in our group stood on the sidewalk, looked up at the southern wall, and said in amazement, “Look at those stones!”

Impressive indeed. Herod was a builder extraordinaire. He rebuilt the temple itself, and expanded the stone platform surrounding it to the size of 24 football fields. Many of his stones are still exposed at the Western or “wailing” wall. A great staircase has been uncovered along the south. It is not hard to imagine pilgrims scaling the steps at Passover. There are spectacular arches and gates. The workmanship of the masonry is distinctive. In one of the tunnels, you can see a single ashlar that is 45 feet long and weighs 570 tons. The temple itself was gleaming white, with extensive gold overlay.

This stunning complex had only been finished for a couple of years when Jesus and the disciples arrived that year for the Passover. No wonder the disciples were awestruck: “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” But Jesus saw through the facade. The temple pretended to be the house of God, the intersection of human life with God’s grace, a venue for sacrifice, teaching, shaping lives and communities. But the splendor of the place could not dispel the shadow of corruption, the failure to embody God’s will in the world. Jesus wept over the sight. And to the shock of his dazzled disciples, he threatened to dismantle all of those huge, seemingly permanent, stones. In fact, his enemies called for him to be killed precisely because he threatened to undo what Herod had done.

The problem is not just that the temple failed to live up to its promise. It seems to be the case that, as the architecture became more splendid, the possibility of genuine worship, and the fulfillment of the mission of God’s people, dwindled. In the Middle Ages, Dominic made a pilgrimage to Rome. Pope Innocent III took him on a personal tour of the gilded, opulent Lateran basilica of St. John. Alluding to the reply of Peter and John to the lame man in Acts chapter 3, verse 6, the pope boasted, “No longer need we say, ‘Silver and gold have I none.’” But the humble Dominic answered, “Yes, and at the same time, the church can no longer say, ‘Rise up and walk.’”

Our denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), is experiencing a financial crisis. Giving is down -- way down. We are feeling it here in Oklahoma on the regional level as well. As the vice moderator of the northeast area, I regularly attend meetings at which there is a palpable sense of distress and urgency. Discussions often turn to how we preachers can do a better job of encouraging you folks in the pews to give more, so the regional and general churches can meet their budgets. In the most significant economic downturn since the Great Depression, such talk is about as useful as those focused on getting blood out of turnips.

Now, please don’t misunderstand. I believe in the ministry and mission of our regional and general churches. I support them. Katrina and I give to their ministries personally, in addition to the tithe that we as a congregation give. However, what deeply troubles me is that these discussions seem to focus almost entirely on the care and feeding of these institutions, and never on making their ministries better, more effective, and more useful.

All church institutions are -- or should be -- merely means to an end. It is dangerous when the institutions themselves consume our attention, our money, and our time, because we then miss the whole point. The Presbyterian minister, Frederick Buechner, was right when he said: “Maybe the best thing that could happen to the church would be for some great tidal wave of history to wash it all away -- the church buildings tumbling, the church money all lost, the church bulletins blowing through the air like dead leaves, the differences between preachers and congregations all lost too. Then all we would have left would be each other and Christ, which was all there was in the first place.”

Back in 1988, a little-self published book by a former NASA engineer created quite a stir in my hometown of Kingfisher. It was entitled 88 Reasons Why the Rapture Will Be in 1988. Some of my friends read the book and became convinced that Jesus would return during the month of September, between the 11th and 13th, just as the book claimed. On Sept. 14, I proclaimed to these friends, “Well, I guess Jesus didn’t come back.” “How would you know?” was the reply. “Duh…We’re still here,” I said with Christian compassion, sensitivity, and understanding. “Yeah, but we’re the ones who got left.”

So we decided on a test. We chose the person we thought most likely to go -- if people, in fact, had been raptured into Heaven with Christ. One young woman seemed a logical choice: devout, holy, and very sweet. And, we hadn’t seen her for the past few days. We drove out to her house. Her car was in the driveway. We heard the radio on inside the house as we rang the doorbell. No answer. We knocked. No answer. Silently, we turned to get back in the car. Just as I laid my hand on the door handle, her voice pierced the silence: “Hey, guys!” She’d been in the back yard.

I hate to admit it, but between the unanswered doorbell and her calling out to us, I was kind of wondering: “Could it be? Naahh...and yet...Why didn’t anybody come to check to see if I was still around? What am I doing with my life?” The funny thing is, two of the three of us are now preachers.

What is the meaning of history? Is there a plot, some thread running through it all? Is there some purpose to the seemingly random and embarrassing sequence of events? As Whitney Brown joked, “There’s a lot we should be able to learn from history. And yet history proves we never do. In fact, the main lesson of history is that we never learn the lessons of history. This makes us look so stupid that few people care to read it. They’d rather not be reminded. Any good history book is mainly just a long list of mistakes, complete with names and dates. It’s very embarrassing.”

Even more embarrassing is our naive belief in progress. “Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better,” was the old slogan. But does anybody really believe we are getting better, that humanity is really scaling new heights of excellence and goodness?

Can’t you read the signs? Can we not see in the decadence of our culture, in our inability to achieve peace, in the ongoing blight disease and starvation, in our hollowness that all our entertaining diversions and technological wizardry cannot fill -- is this not a sign of the bankruptcy of human life lived out in independence from God? Truth be told, our belief in progress is mere window dressing, a phony mask spread over what has become a futureless, hopeless existence on this planet.

Most people, even Christians, view a few politicians, some business executives, a handful of military leaders, and maybe even terrorists as the major players who alter the course of events on our planet. But what about God? We measure ups and downs in the stock market, we gauge our security based on whether we can outnumber the weapons other people can point at us, we turn and stare at the biggest and the loudest. But isn’t God the Lord of history? History is not meaningless. Our planet is not randomly spinning out in an obscure corner of the Milky Way. Yes, there is much that is evil, senseless. But we should expect precisely that in a world out of sync with God. And we can be confident and hopeful that God has not cast us adrift in all the chaos, but will bring us and all of his creation to his good end.

Risky as it inevitably is, we need to remember how to discern God in history. Jesus did not strive for incremental improvements in the institutions of his day. Instead, he spoke of something cataclysmic, a radical overturning of the powers that be, of life as it was understood. Only when we are not ultimately invested in this world, only when we know that this life is not our final destination, are we actually liberated to work with courage, and with hope.

As Martin Luther King, Jr., said in his Palm Sunday sermon at the National Cathedral in Washington just days before his assassination, “We shall overcome because the arc of a moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. We shall overcome because Carlyle is right -- no lie can live forever. We shall overcome because William Cullen Bryant is right -- truth crushed to earth will rise again. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair the stone of hope.”

The stone of hope. When Jesus stood on the Mount of Olives, he was facing the final hours before his own death, his end. In Jerusalem, you can see the stone of Calvary where Jesus bore the folly of all history. And just steps away, really growing out of the same subterranean rock, is the sepulcher where Jesus was buried, where even a massive ashlar could not contain him.

For now we “see through a glass darkly,” clinging to hope. Mark Helprin was right: “Being very clever, God has beaten life into a great question that breaks the living and is answered only in death.”

But there is an answer, my friends. Thanks be to God, there is an answer. We shall overcome.

Let’s pray: Lord, we suffer from narrow-mindedness. Or is it nearsightedness? We get caught up in what is only provisional and temporary, and we have failed to see history from your perspective. And so we pray with Charles Wesley, “Finish then thy new creation; pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy great salvation perfectly restored in thee; changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast our crowns before them, lost in wonder, love, and praise.” Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * November 15, 2009

Jesus Christ: Our Priest -- Hebrews 9:11-15

According to the New Testament, the three-fold office of our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ, is prophet, priest, and king. In our scripture reading this morning, we learn how Christ has fulfilled the priestly office. In the Old Testament, the priests would office sacrifices to God on behalf of the people, and they would also intercede for the people. This is what Jesus did -- and what he still does.

At first glance, it is simply incomprehensible. The ancient people of Israel had a form of worship that was, to put it mildly, very bloody. The ritualistic slaughter of animals, and the sprinkling of their blood on the altar and, symbolically, on the people belongs to a world thankfully long gone. The world in which we live is too far removed from the world of the Old Testament for us to understand it. The regular, repeated, ritualistic slaughter of animals simply has no place in the worship life of the modern Christian.

A few months ago, the cover story in Disciples World focused on this issue. There are some preachers, seminary professors, and theologians in our denomination today who believe that the historic Christian teaching of Jesus’ crucifixion and death makes as little sense to we modern people as does ancient Israel’s ritualistic slaughter of animals. One of the preoccupations of many hymnal committees in the past quarter-century has been to remove songs that talk about blood -- especially in terms of sacrifice. Rita Nakashima Brock, an ordained Disciples minister and visiting professor at Starr King School for the Ministry, famously declared that the historic Christian teaching on this subject makes God the Father a child abuser, in that he not merely allows, but requires, that his son die such an awful, bloody, tortured death.

So perhaps the priestly office of Christ is irrelevant to us? Perhaps the office of Jesus as high priest is a topic we can safely ignore? No, for it is precisely because Jesus is our high priest that there is no more need, and will never be any more need, for the offering up to God of a bloody sacrifice.

Thanks be to God, Jesus’ words of grace, forgiveness, and eternal life are the final words of God to us. They are words that mean to us what they say. When God says we are set free from the guilt of our sins, this very saying of God sets us free. When God speaks his absolution to us, that very speaking of God gives us the forgiveness of our sins. It is as God said in the beginning: “Let there be light!” God saying it made it so. There was light. When God speaks his prophetic word, and tells us he is merciful and that he forgives us our sins, that very speaking brings to us the forgiveness of our sins.

But here is where we face a serious theological problem -- one which too many preachers, seminary professors, and theologians overlook today. The problem is this. How can God tell guilty people that they are not guilty? How can God tell sinful people that their sins are forgiven? How can a holy God say to sinful people that they are holy? Surely he cannot say anything that is not true! If God were to lie, he would no longer be holy. We speak of the great blessing we have when God forgives us by speaking words of forgiveness to us.

But stop and consider…Can God do this? Can God really and truly tell sinful people that they are justified? We read in Proverbs 17:15, “Acquitting the guilty and condemning the innocent -- the Lord detests them both.” How, then, can God justify the wicked? How can he do what is an abomination to him?

And doesn’t even the most elementary sense of justice tell us that every wrong that is done must be righted? If nature teaches us that for every action there is a necessary reaction, doesn’t the nature of God’s justice demand no less? The prophetic office of Christ is a beautiful treasure, but how are we supposed to believe that God can say to sinners who sin daily in thought, in word, and in deed -- and who keep sinning until they die -- that they are nevertheless righteous saints?

We need more than the prophetic office of Christ. Very few people object to Jesus’ preaching of God’s grace, love, and mercy. These are things that every human being not only wants, but needs, to hear. But his priestly office…well, that’s a different story entirely. That means blood, and crucifixion, and sacrifice. Those words don’t leave us with the same warm feelings that come with Christ’s prophetic office.

However, without the priestly office of Christ, the prophetic office would have nothing to give to us. Apart from what Jesus did for us as our own high priest, and what Jesus continually does for us as our own high priest, those compassionate and loving words of Jesus would be empty and hollow. The prophetic office of Christ is grounded in his priestly office. No blood? No grace. No cross? No salvation. It really and truly is that simple.

Our scripture reading this morning tells us how it is that Christ can tell us that we are God’s own saints: “When Christ came as high priest of the good things that are already here, he went through the greater and more perfect tabernacle that is not man-made, that is to say, not a part of this creation. He did not enter by means of the blood of goats and calves; but he entered the Most Holy Place once for all by his own blood, having obtained eternal redemption.”

The Most Holy Place is where the high priest would go, once a year, to sprinkle blood on the mercy seat. Below the mercy seat was God’s law, and at either end was an angel, witnessing the sprinkling of blood. The mercy seat was that place where the holy God met sinful humanity and pronounced the sinner to be righteous.

But it is not an abomination. It is not a miscarriage of justice. There -- where God sees all sinners in the nakedness of their own guilt, with their crimes crying out to him for vengeance -- Jesus the high priest enters. He enters by shedding his blood.

Now, this is no mere ritual! An animal has no guilt of his own and cannot, in actual fact, bear anyone else’s guilt, either. But Jesus is no animal. Jesus is the image of the invisible God. He is true God from eternity, and the perfect man. He enters into the holy of holies and he sheds his blood. He does what endless ritual slaughters could only typify. He obtains eternal redemption.

As the old song (which is rapidly disappearing from hymnals today) declares, “What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus."

Our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ, met the demands of justice. He purchased the absolution on which our faith rests. He won the right to forgive sinners whose sins still cling to them as mud clings to the wheel. If the offering of clean animals achieved a ritual cleanliness, how much more does Jesus bring us spiritual purity! As we read, “How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!”

Notice how our Triune God is revealed here at the focal point of all history, at that point where the justice of God and the mercy we sinners need come together. The Son, who was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary, offers himself to the Father “through the eternal Spirit.” He offers a spotless life. He offers this, not for himself, for he has all he needs. He offers this spotless life for us. He offers himself.

I think those preachers, seminary professors, and theologians who object to this clear teaching of the New Testament have things backward. They see blood, and death, and they claim that God is some sort of monster -- not unlike the murderous traitor who went on a rampage at Ft. Hood last week, killing 13 and wounding 31 others. But the true comparison is with the courageous 34-year-old mother, Kimberly Nunley, who -- even after being hit by a bullet that passed through both of her legs -- succeeded in stopping the shooter. She shed her blood, she was willing to give her life, so that others might live.

And so it is with Jesus. When Jesus shed his blood, when Jesus gives his life, he does it for you, and for me, and for every other human being that has ever lived, that is now living, and that will ever live. He gives his life unto death.

Thanks be to God, he doesn’t remain dead. The very same life he gives unto death, he takes up again, because death could not hold him. Instead, he destroys death.

Now we have a life to live. When Jesus, in his prophetic office, tells us that we are forgiven, holy, and righteous saints, our consciences are set at rest. Everything that made us guilty, and everything that made us feel guilty, and everything that made us live as people who are guilty, has been purged away forever. Jesus offered himself as the one and final bloody sacrifice to end all bloody sacrifices.

All of the anger of God that we feel inside when our guilty consciences accused us of sin is now gone. Our consciences can no longer accuse us. We not only have the word of Christ for it; we have the blood of Christ shed, once and for all, to blot out all of our sins. We have the justice of God answered. Our consciences are at rest. There is no more blame, no more guilt, no more running away, and no more wondering if God is truly pleased with us. There is pure and lasting peace with the holy God. His anger is no more.

The priestly work of Christ was finished on the cross. Yet it continues to the end of time. The offering by which our sins were washed away, and God’s anger was stilled, was offered up on the cross once and for all. No other offering for sins can be offered. But Christ continues to act. He acts as our mediator. He pleads our case for us.

We all intercede for one another as Christians. We pray for each other. That’s why we have a church prayer list. But only Jesus is the mediator. He is the only one who can plead our case for us, because our case is quite literally his own obedience and suffering for us. It is the foundation on which our case rests. When we pray in Jesus’ name, we do so with confidence that Jesus cannot lose our case. He pleads his own life, offered in our place, and with that life our heavenly Father can see no wrong. The life of Jesus brings our Father in heaven pure joy. “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Did not the Father say this of His holy Son?

And here’s the absolutely inconceivable, the utterly mind-blowing, truth: This is what God says about us, too, when Jesus is our mediator. When we do whatever we do as children, as mothers and fathers, as employees, as students, as farmers, or in whatever vocation God has placed us, we are doing what brings God pleasure. We aren’t offering him dead works that he cares nothing for. We are Christians! We are offering him what he treasures and even rewards -- not because we deserve it -- but because of the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ, our high priest, whose life, suffering, and death have made us acceptable to God.

Let’s pray: Heavenly Father, we stand amazed by your grace. We are so very grateful for the incredible gift of salvation -- and for the generosity of your Son, our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ, in making our redemption possible. We know that there is nothing we can do to earn or merit eternal life. And so we thankfully accept this gift you have given us. We pray these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * November 8, 2009

Flints, Sponges, and Honeycombs -- Mark 12:38-44

You know, givers can be divided into three types: the flint, the sponge, and the honeycomb.

Some givers are like a piece of flint. To get anything out of it, you’ve got to hammer it, and even then you get only chips and sparks.

Some givers are like a sponge. To get anything out of it, you’ve got to squeeze, and squeeze it hard, because the more you squeeze a sponge, the more you get.

But other givers are like a honeycomb. A honeycomb simply overflows with its own sweetness. This is how God gives to us. And this is how we should give in return.

Today’s scripture reading is the well-known story of “The Widow’s Mite,” which takes place in the area of the temple treasury. The temple in the Jerusalem of Jesus’ day was divided into a number of different areas, to which access was increasingly restricted.

Outside was the “Court of the Gentiles.” This area was open to all. The first area inside was the “Women’s Court,” open only to Israelites. Next was the “Men’s Court,” open only to Israelite males. Then came the “Court of Priests,” open only to the temple priests. Finally, there was the most sacred area of all: the “Holy of Holies,” which could be entered only by the High Priest of the Temple, and by him only once a year.

Around the walls of the “Women’s Court” were thirteen urns, shaped like trumpets, for the receipt of the temple tax and other offerings. Visitors to the temple did not place their contributions in these urns themselves, however. The contributors handed the money to the priest on duty, stating the amount, and what it was for. The priest then announced the offering, and placed it into the urn. This explains how Jesus could know the amount given by the poor widow in our scripture reading.

Why was Jesus seated outside the temple treasury, watching people making contributions? Obviously, Jesus knew that watching people putting their money into the treasury is a surefire way of learning a lot about who they really and truly are. Perhaps he was there for that reason. We can only speculate.

In any case, he saw that the people who were depositing large sums did so in a rather arrogant, detached, and haughty manner. The problem with these people, as Jesus saw it, was that they were giving only out of their abundance. Instead of giving some of the cream to God, they were giving only the leftovers. They were flint givers. Their gifts were spiritless. There was no spirit of personal sacrifice. They weren’t putting anything of themselves into the gift. They were giving out of obligation. Their gifts were being extracted from them. They were sponge givers. Surely the temple benefited from the flint-givers’ and the sponge-givers’ gifts but, in giving only in a non-sacrificial way, just as surely they lost still another opportunity for their own life enrichment. And so it is even today for those who are flint-givers and sponge-givers.

As Jesus watched these goings on at the temple treasury, a poor widow came and offered but two copper coins. Her gift could not have benefited the temple very much financially. By today’s measure, it came to about sixty cents. One can almost see the rich pulling their fine robes around them, so they wouldn’t come in contact with such a poor creature. (“And look at that pitiable offering compared to ours!”) But that poor creature was the very one Jesus was waiting for. Turning to his disciples, he said, “I want you to observe that this poor widow contributed more than all the others who donated to the treasury. They gave from their surplus wealth, but she gave from her want, all that she had to live on.” That poor widow had less than enough for herself, yet she gave all she possessed. The widow’s mite impressed Jesus more than the large contributions of the wealthy, because of the spirit in which it was given. Insofar as the upkeep of the temple was concerned, those two little coins were practically worthless. But the widow’s purity of intention was priceless!

In the fifth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, Ananias and his wife, Sapphira, members of the early church, sold a piece of property and the proceeds were to be turned over to the Apostles for the benefit of the early Christians. But, when they turned over only part of the proceeds, and tried to keep the rest for themselves, the Apostle Peter asked, “Why has Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit and to keep back part of the proceeds of the land? How is it that you have contrived this deed in your heart? You have not lied to me, but to God.” Hearing these words, Ananias fell down and died. And thus, in the year 34 A.D., the disease “Cirrhosis of the Giver” was discovered by the husband-and-wife team of Ananias and Sapphira.

“Cirrhosis of the Giver” is an acute condition that renders the patient’s hands immobile when he or she is called upon to move them in the direction of his wallet or her purse, and from thence to the collection basket. Curiously, this strange malady is not clinically observable in such surroundings as movie theaters, expensive restaurants, shopping malls, sports arenas, and supermarkets. Moreover, statistics show that a high percentage of the afflicted can be categorized as “regular churchgoers.”

Although a remedy is often prescribed which informs the patient that income tax deductions may be claimed for giving, nevertheless the best therapy -- and that which leads to a lasting cure -- is to get the patient’s heart right with God. Thus, it has been determined that “Cirrhosis of the Giver” is actually a symptom of a basic need of the soul.

Prescribed medication: Frequent doses of Second Corinthians, chapter 9, verse 6 (“He who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and he who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver”). This medication will become quite pleasant to take when followed by a dose of Philippians, chapter 4, verse 19 (“God will supply you with every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus”).

There was a time in the life of the church that whole armies were baptized in one ceremony. When this occurred, many of the warriors went into the waters with their right hands held high, so that they did not get wet. Then they could say, “This hand has never been baptized,” and they would go back into battle swinging their battle axes as freely as ever. The modern counterpart of that ancient “partial baptism” is seen in the many people who have been baptized -- all except their pocketbooks which, figuratively, are held high out of the water.

John Bunyan, the great Christian who wrote that wonderful classic, The Pilgrim’s Progress, penned these lines: “A man there was, and they called him mad; the more he gave, the more he had.”

To the world, such a principle of giving is nonsense. To the Christian, who knows the true worth of spiritual returns, it not only makes sense -- it makes life ever more meaningful.

Let’s pray: Lord, make us effusive, extravagant, even reckless in our giving. Enable us to see that all that we have is not merely our property, but rather your undeserved gifts. Help us to release our tight grip on our possessions, as if we could -- through our own efforts -- preserve what we have. You have given us so many good gifts. Now we are so bold as to ask for yet another gift -- a gracious, giving spirit, a willingness to let go of what we have, in order that your will may be done on earth, even as it is in heaven. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * November 1, 2009

Christianity = Following Jesus -- Mark 10:35-45

I have sometimes poked fun at sermons that seem to have as their theme, “Nine reasons you are not really a Christian, even though you may have thought you were one when you came to church.” But it’s no laughing matter how, sometimes, church seems to be about all the ways you fall short in your discipleship, rather than all the ways in which you are a disciple. I want to say something today about following Jesus.

I can’t recall any moment when Jesus said to his disciples, “Believe the following five things about me.” No. What Jesus said was, “Follow me.”

It is more important to be a disciple, a follower of Jesus, even than to be a Christian. Christianity is not a set of beliefs, first principles, propositions. It is a matter of discipleship, following. Faith in Jesus is not beliefs about Jesus. It’s a willingness to follow Jesus. The faith is in the following.

We make a mistake to turn this into some sort of mystery. Jesus did not demand that we swallow a dozen philosophical absurdities in order to be with him. He asked us to follow him. Faith in Jesus is not, first of all, a matter of having felt something, or having had an experience. It is a simple willingness to stumble along behind Jesus, a willingness to be behind him. The faith is in the following.

There is, therefore, no need for anybody to be befuddled when asked, “Are you a Christian?” It’s a freebie. Easy.

The answer is not a matter of having your head straight about the meaning of the atonement. The Scripture is not a demand that you cite some inner psychological validation. The answer is simply to say, “Yes, I’m trying my best to follow Jesus. I’m his apprentice, his disciple.” The faith is in the following.

If you ask someone, “Are you a carpenter?” there would be no need for hesitation. You may not be the world’s best carpenter, or the most experienced worker in the world. You may have been a carpenter for only two weeks, or for as many as 20 years, but the evidence that you are or are not a carpenter is simple and self-evident. Are you, or are you not, disciplining your life (discipline equals disciple) to the insights, practices, and skills of carpentry? Case closed.

If you asked, “Are you a really good carpenter?” then there might be more hesitation. You are growing as a carpenter, but you are not perfect. The hesitation does not indicate that you are not a real carpenter. Rather, your hesitation shows that you are a true disciple of carpentry, that you are still growing, still on the way, still being perfected in the tools of the trade. A beginning carpenter is still a carpenter.

How often, in all the gospels, do you hear Jesus chastising and criticizing his disciples? He is often exasperated that they don’t get the point, they fail to follow, or they misunderstand.

Jesus’ criticism of them does not mean they are not real disciples. It means that they are still on the journey. They are on the way. If they had not committed themselves to follow Jesus, if they were not linked to him and his way, there would be no need for correction. Faith does not mean they have arrived; it means that they are on the way.

A person who wants to be a carpenter must apprentice to a carpenter, minding the moves, inculcating the practices, being attentive to the principles of the trade, willing to be criticized by the master until the apprentice becomes what the master is and does what the master does. That’s surely what Jesus means when he says simply, “Follow me.”

I recall participating in a discussion where people were asked, “When did you become a Christian?” People took turns sharing some rather dramatic accounts of how they had been converted into the Christian faith. Some recalled soul-stirring moments when their lives were dramatically disrupted by an infusion of the grace of God, and they decided to follow.

But one man, with more than a bit of hesitation in his voice, said, “I can’t remember when I wasn’t a Christian. I was a Christian when I was a child, from the first.”

My point is that the imitation of our apprenticeship, the way we got on the journey with Jesus, is not the crucial matter. The crucial matter is that we are on the way. To be on the way means to be, as a disciple, imitating the moves of the master in all we do.

Some years ago, I read a book of meditations for Christian college students. The book began, “As a Christian, who is also a student, your task is to be an excellent student. Your discipleship means that you should study conscientiously and thoroughly.”

Wherever you are, whatever you do, you are a disciple of Jesus. That’s one reason why I can’t stand that phrase, “full-time Christian service” as a way of distinguishing between clergy and laity. Following Jesus is not a matter of learning to do a few religious things on top of the things we do, but rather a matter of doing all that we do, not for ourselves, but for Jesus.

That’s surely why Jesus’ parables are stories about real life and his teaching is about matters like anger, disappointment, forgiveness, ordinary injustice -- the stuff of real life. He surely meant us to follow him now, in this life, not some other.

I know a barber who, after a day of cutting people’s hair for money, goes out to nursing homes and cuts hair for free. A friend of his is an accountant who, after a long day of serving people’s financial interests for money, goes out at night to cruise local bars, pick up women for one-night stands, and to enjoy himself as much as possible.

Both men, the barber and the accountant, are apprentices -- people attached to some larger vision of what life is about, why we were put here. One is attached to Jesus. The other is attached to American consumerism and selfish hedonism. So the most interesting question to ask them is not the abstract, “What do you believe in?" but the more concrete, “Whom are you following?” Faith is in the attachment, the following.

The world is right in judging Jesus on the basis of the sort of lives he produces. The only “proof” we have, the acid test for the validity of the gospel, is whether or not it is capable of producing lives that are a credit to the master to whom we are apprenticed.

Let’s pray: Lord Jesus, help us to hear your call in our lives and, when we hear, help us to say “yes.” Give us the grace to see the tasks to which you call us as your disciples. Then give us the gifts we need to accomplish those tasks for you. We marvel that you have placed us within your in-breaking kingdom. At times we feel inadequate, unequal to your vocation of us. Nevertheless, help us to delight in your will, to walk in your way, and to enjoy the privilege of serving you in this time and place. We pray these things in your holy name. Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * October 18, 2009

Death Is Overcome -- Mark 9:30-32

When new ministers arrive at congregations, they eagerly look forward to officiating at those rites of passage in the church: celebrating new arrivals with their first baby dedication, celebrating new conversions with their first baptism, and celebrating new marriages with their first wedding. These “firsts” in the time of their service to a congregation bring ministers great happiness and joy.

But there is one rite of passage to which no minister looks forward with anticipation -- the first funeral. We experienced that milestone in my ministry here last Friday, as we laid our beloved Charlene Monroe to rest. And, in just a couple of days, we will gather once again as a congregation to celebrate the life of our beloved Bud Reynolds.

Except in churches that are very large, the death of a member always hits hard. But, in close-knit, smaller congregations such as ours, they are particularly painful. Many Christians talk about their “church family,” but here, at the First Christian Church in Morris, we really and truly are family. And, as hard as it is to lose a single member of our family, we are experiencing the loss of two persons whom we admired and loved in less than a week.

It’s a tough time for you, and a tough time for me, and a tough time for us as a congregation. And so, this morning, I want us to go back in time a couple of thousand years, because it’s there -- in the world of the New Testament -- that we will find the resources we need for dealing with the losses that burden our hearts, minds, and souls this morning.

Jesus has come among us. He has opened up for us a new way of life. When we are in his presence, we feel as though we are in the presence of God. We have seen the power of God working through him. We have left our families. We have left our work. We have left everything to follow him.

We are looking forward to the initiation of the Kingdom of God that he is talking about. And then, suddenly, he warns us about an impending death: his death. And we are shocked beyond words. We are plunged into the depths of despair. Everyone knows that the Messiah is to triumph, and not to die a criminal’s death. And then, he is executed, just as he said he would be. It was a very real death, just as real as the deaths we have experienced this past week.

And then comes the dawn of the first Easter. First of all, we find an empty tomb, which creates excitement -- but also confusion. There are all sorts of thoughts going through our minds. But, before the day is over, we experience the presence of the living Christ. Jesus, whom we had seen die, whom we had seen placed in a tomb, is alive!

It isn’t a figment of our imagination. It is a real happening! It is a real event! It is just as real to us as the crucifixion. Jesus Christ is alive! The Lord God Almighty, who created the heavens and the earth, has conquered death itself through Jesus. Think about that! God’s resurrection power is greater than the power of death -- the greatest enemy of the human condition.

Yes, death is overcome! Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.

Julian, the emperor of Rome, was a great enemy of the early Christian movement. Once, when he was about to pronounce the death sentence on a group of believers, he said derisively, “Where is your Jesus Christ now?” One of the Christians shouted back defiantly, “He is fashioning a coffin for your Roman Empire!” That man was sentenced to die in tortured agony, slowly.

But the man was right. The years went by, and things went from bad to worse for Julian: in domestic affairs, in military affairs, in affairs of the Empire. He ended up stabbing himself to death and, according to the historians, when he started to fall, he cupped his own life’s blood in his hands and shouted, “O, Galilean! You have conquered after all. You have conquered.”

That is the spirit of the New Testament authors: Evil, and sin, and death push in on us, and threaten us, but the Galilean has conquered both!

My friends, that alone is more than enough to account for our gathering together, as we do every Sunday, to celebrate. The Spirit of Christ is alive and present here. No wonder we celebrate! No wonder we worship! Christ is alive and present in and through his body, the church. Where two or three are gathered together in his name, he is in the midst of them, and dwells with them.

In the early days of the Stone-Campbell movement, some children were watching a river baptism from a distance. They were close enough to see the Disciples minister immerse people and say certain words, but they couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. However, they decided to imitate him.

That afternoon, they conducted their own baptism ceremony in the backyard. They had a rain barrel full of water. The little girls in the neighborhood all brought their dolls. A little boy was in a frock coat, acting as the minister. Someone who was observing the proceedings saw him pick up one of the dolls, hold it over the rain barrel and say, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and into the hole you go.” Then he dunked it down.

Unfortunately, many church-going persons have only the vaguest feeling of what is happening in the world because of Jesus’ death and resurrection. They miss the point of it, just as surely as those children missed the point of the baptism. I will say it again: The resurrection power of God is in our present world, insuring final victory over our greatest enemy, death.

In one of Dylan Thomas’ poems, he talks of death in many moods and ways, but each stanza ends with the beautiful phrase, “But death shall have no dominion.” Yes, my friends, death is real. For those of us who are alive, death is coming. There is no way we can escape it. But death shall have no dominion. This is what the New Testament is saying to us.

God’s resurrection power is available to every one of us, not only in the seemingly miraculous things, but also in the elemental things. The Apostle Paul writes of his dying “every day.” The daily little deaths that we die may include something as simple as a personal habit that we are struggling to give up.

A man with a terrible lung condition went to the doctor. The doctor said to him, “Do you smoke?” The man said “No, I don’t smoke.” The doctor said, “Too bad. It would be great for you if you could quit smoking.” For some persons, quitting smoking is like dying. Those of us who don’t smoke can’t understand this. We think it’s foolishness. If you are going to quit smoking, just quit! But because the drug has taken over the chemistry of the body, throwing it out of balance, there is a kind of dying involved when smokers try to quit smoking.

One man was suffering his little daily deaths in the form of job stress and tension. Finally, after he had overworked to the point of near total exhaustion, he began to pray. He said that almost immediately he received a clear insight into what he had to do. He had to resign as manager of the universe. And God accepted his resignation.

You know, some of us may be trying to be managers of the universe. We want to manage the lives of the members of our families. We want to run things at work, and everywhere else, our way. There is a kind of dying involved when we give some of that up, and learn how to trust God to manage the universe. There is disappointment, there is disillusionment -- all the daily little deaths. And then, there is our physical death. It’s not pleasant, but we have to be realistic about this.

You will die. And I will die. In the great economy of God’s sweep of time, we all will die soon. Some of us have a few more years than others, but this death is real. A little girl’s pet cat died and her mother, trying to comfort her, said, “But dear, don’t you know that Fluffy is up in Heaven now with God?” The little girl cried all the more and said, “Mommy, what in the world does God want with a dead cat?” In her own way, she was being more realistic than her mother. You and I can talk about God, and Heaven, and all the rest -- and these are very real -- but there was still the dead cat. Death is very real.

Most of us have attended a funeral service and been asked by a family member or friend, “Are you going to the cemetery?” We should remember that the answer is never a flat “no.” Sooner or later, we all are going to the cemetery. Yes, I’m going to the cemetery. And you’re going to the cemetery. And everybody you love is going to the cemetery.

But hear the Good News: the cemetery is not the end! Death never, ever, ever has the last word. Death has no dominion over us, because God Almighty, through our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ, has conquered death. Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through Christ.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * October 11, 2009

Just A Short Trip -- Mark 10:2-16

A thirteen-year-old girl said to her mother, “I feel so nervous.“ Her mother replied, “What do you mean, ‘nervous’?” “Well,” said the child, “I feel in a hurry all over. It’s like I’m not sure quite where I’m going, but I can’t wait to get started.”

Another little girl -- a fifth-grader -- kept doing mischievous things in class, in the halls, and out in the playground. Sometimes she was caught and reprimanded, sometimes not. But the time came when she’d been caught so much that she was sent to the principal’s office. She sat there and smiled as the principal recited her misdeeds, then said, “Janice, do you have any idea why you behave this way?” Janice pondered the question for a moment, then replied, “I like to take the risk.”

Whether one is seventy, or seventeen, or seven, there is in every human heart a great reservoir of childlike awe and wonder, of child-like zest for “What’s next?,” of child-like hope for the transformation of things-as-they-are into things-as-they-will-be, of child-like zeal for “taking the risk.”

We read in the Gospel of Luke: “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest.’” A heart filled with child-like awe and wonder can rejoice in and echo that song of praise!

We read in First Corinthians: “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love him.” A heart filled with the zestful, child-like spirit of “What’s next?” can cherish and embrace that prophecy!

We read in the Gospel of Luke: “The Lord has been raised! It is true!” A heart that nurtures a child-like hope for the transformation of things-as-they-are into things-as-they-will-be can trust in the promise of resurrection!

In that awe-stricken, enthusiastic, expectant spirit of youth, we assemble this day to celebrate our stake in God’s kingdom. We celebrate, because we know in our hearts that life’s adventure is worth pursuing. We celebrate, because we know in our hearts that we really are going someplace. We celebrate, because we know in our hearts that every person counts; that man is not just an atom blowing in the wind. We celebrate, because we know in our hearts that the human family is one -- the family of God -- and that together we are on the move toward the ultimate reconciliation of all in our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.

Our culture venerates facts, statistics, and probability curves. It dispatches our dreamers to the sanitarium and turns the controls of society over to the super-realists. And our super-realists are anything but young at heart. They have a limited vision of “things as they will be.” What if they do manage to provide every human being on earth with a guaranteed annual income, and every home with two color TVs? What if they do finally solve our medical problems? Will that be the kingdom of God, realized at last? Will it even produce a decent society? I hardly think so.

No, the essential question will still be the same: “What is really worth doing in life?” And Jesus gives us the answer: “I assure you that whoever does not accept the Reign of God like a little child shall not take part in it.”

Behaving as Jesus would have us behave will set us apart, make us appear different -- “unrealistic,” they may say. It may subject us to considerable scolding by the “realists” of this world, who reject the Christian vision. But, however painful it may become, we will remember these words in today’s scripture reading: “People were bringing their little children to him to have him touch them, but the disciples scolded them for this.” And, however loud the voice of scorn may be raised, we will hear the voice of Jesus rise above it: “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them. It is to just as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” Thanks be to God, my friends, no amount of rejection, no amount of scolding, will keep us from Jesus’ side.

In one of the “Peanuts” comic strips, Charlie Brown holds us his hands before his friend Lucy and says, “These are hands which may someday accomplish great things...These are hands which may someday do marvelous works! They may build mighty bridges, or heal the sick, or hit home-runs, or write soul-stirring novels! These are hands which may someday change the course of destiny!” To which Lucy replies, “They’ve got jelly on them!”

In the interest of your eternal happiness, do not talk about your Christian duty with jelly on your hands. God’s formula for happiness is not meant to stick somewhere between your knowing it and doing it. If your neighbor is in need of material support, then don’t let your money keep sticking to your fingers. If a sinner is in need of forgiveness, don’t let your compassion keep sticking to your self-righteousness. If a brother or a sister needs relief from loneliness, don’t let your understanding keep sticking to your indifference.

Do you know where your ministry lies? You’ll know when, in the spirit of childlike trust, you allow God to transform you into a sensitive person in search of truth, eager to know, “What’s next?” in your ministry of service. And you’ll know when, in the spirit of child-like trust in the Word of God, you can say from the bottom of your heart: “The place closest to God is reserved for those who wash their sisters’ and brothers’ feet.”

Jesus came to sensitize us to the infinite beauty and worth of God’s creation and, especially, God’s human family. Jesus came to reveal God’s infinite love for his human family, and to teach us how to share that love with one another. As Christians, we must become ever more sensitized to the reality that human need, wherever it exists, is our concern; that we are all, quite literally, in the same boat, moving toward a common destiny. As Christians, we must become ever more sensitized to the reality that, just as Jesus is God’s gift to us that keeps on giving, so too we must make of ourselves a gift to the world that keeps on giving. The world needs us and deserves us, because it is God’s world we are serving. The children of the world need us and deserve us, because they are God’s children we are serving -- each of us, according to his or her God-given ability.

The story is told of a farmer in the Appalachian hills who always managed to get lost whenever he traveled outside his home base. When asked about his problem, he said, “As a boy, I learned to read figurin’ but not writin’. And, when I see a road sign, I can tell ‘how fur,’ but not ‘where to.’”

Where to? To the kingdom of God -- the kingdom of Love! How far? “The Kingdom of God is in the midst of you," Jesus said. My friends, it’s just a short trip to the bottom of your heart!

Let’s pray: God of love, we thank you for your love for us. We thank you for teaching us, both in your word and by your example, that love is the key to your kingdom. Send your Holy Spirit and fill us to overflowing with your divine love, that it may pour out of our lives into the lives of all of those we meet. We pray these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.

First Christian Church * Morris, Oklahoma * October 4, 2009