God's Airplane (1 Thessalonians 5:1-11)

Delivered in Trinity Chapel, 12/6/10

Way back when, before I aspired to go to seminary, before God called me to do all this, I had a relative who had gone to Princeton Theological Seminary! My brother and I had dinner with him, and we got to bombard him with questions about religion. My brother asked the ever-popular “Is Jesus the only way to God” question.

Let's call my seminary graduate Jack. Jack smiled and told us this analogy. You've probably heard it before. There's a mountain, and God is at the top, and we're all on the mountain, climbing to the top, and each one of us sees that his path gets to the top, and we look over and we see someone else climbing on their own path, and we shout over, hey! My path gets to the top! Come on over! But the other fellow says, I can see the top from here, too. So, the conclusion is that all paths lead to the top of the mountain. Brilliant! Case closed!

Of course, now that I have been to seminary myself, some questions come up, like HOW DOES HE KNOW? In order for him to make that statement that all paths lead to the top of the mountain, he would have to have a big picture view of the mountain. That means that he is not on the mountain himself. He has placed himself over the mountain in an airplane looking down.

He got this airplane from a seminary professor who got it from his own professor and all the way back to some guy who decided that all roads led to God and he needed to come up with an analogy, so he made up the story about the mountain. Now, am I knocking the airplane philosophy? Not at all. Philosophy should always pull back to see the big picture, but listen what Paul is saying in first Thessalonians 5. We have our own airplane. This Bible.

Paul's message today is about Advent and the Day of the Lord Coming. How is the day of the Lord coming? Like a thief in the night. That's the new testament spin on the old testament day of the Lord theme. Jesus says it, Paul says it. The day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. Do we believe this? Yes. Do we know when this going to happen? No. Do we know the time or the season? No. Do we know the chronos or the kairos? No. Does the Son know? No. Are we going to be taken by surprise? No!

This is where our airplane kicks in. We may not know the time but we know that it IS GOING TO HAPPEN. That's more than a lot of people know. The people who ARE going to be taken by surprise. And we know HOW it is going to happen. Like a thief in the night. Jack has a faulty airplane, a seminary professor, nothing against seminary professors, but WE have a well-crafted airplane, one that gives us an excellent view of the lay of the land. We have the Bible, but we can't just fly this plane all willy nilly. We can't pick and choose verses out of context. That's not flying the airplane right. We can't get a good big picture that way. Remember, context is king, or “king and queen” as my ESV footnote says. We keep the context and we're flying the plane right.

Here's a great example, because it's Advent and this is another day of the Lord reference. Matthew 24: Jesus tells about two men in the field. One is taken and the other is . . . left behind, eh? Two women grinding at the mill. One is taken and the other is . . . left behind! Ooh. It's the rapture! Look out! Don't want to get left behind! Wait a second. If we look at the context, if we jump back a few verses, we hear Jesus say the day of the Lord will be like the days of Noah, when people were just going about their business, getting married and having babies, and then the flood came and swept them all away. Context! This ain't the rapture. You WANT to get left behind in this scenario. This is the chaff being blown away and the wheat remaining. Left behind is GOOD. Guess we have to rewrite the novels.

God has given us an amazing airplane, and when we leave Ambridge, PA as I am doing in 29 days, 2 hours, and forty six minutes, we are going to encounter a lot of people who are just cruising around in the darkness, asleep as Paul says, not knowing that the Day of the Lord is coming at all, and we're also going to encounter people who have studied, and studied hard, and they are preaching the rapture, or they are preaching that all roads lead to the top of the mountain.

It's going to be tough. Pray for me, and I'll pray for you, too. Use this airplane to the fullest. It has its own mountain philosophy, you know. What does the Bible say about the mountain? Here's Christianity's take. NONE of the paths leads to the top of the mountain—NOT ONE! Ours is a God who descends from the mountain, picks us up and brings us to the top. Ours is a God who sacrifices his only Son on a cross, so that we can live forever with him. The cross is kinda shaped like an airplane, too.

AMEN.

The Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37)

Delivered at Anglican Church of the Redeemer, Camden, NC and Anglican Church of the Good Shepherd, Nags Head, NC on July 11, 2010.

Well, how many people here have heard the story of the Good Samaritan? Since you learned it it Sunday school, right? That's when I learned it. Over and over. I knew it backwards and forwards, but I didn't really know it. How many people here have gone deeper into this parable? There are at least three layers to this parable. Let's uncover the three layers and see what we can find.

First there's the Sunday School layer, and it's valid. It's good. It's the social gospel. Help the poor, the sick, the beaten and downtrodden. Don't be like the priest and the levite. Be like the Samaritan. You never know when you might be the guy dying in the street. This story is an example of the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It's a great story. Notice the priest and the Levite are headed away from Jerusalem. They are going back home to Jericho. They are done with their temple worship. They aren't in a hurry. They do not need to worry about touching something unclean. There's no valid reason for them to walk on the other side of the street. And they do, because they don't want to get involved. They are filled with dread and apprehension. Some say that they are worried the robbers may still be around. Whatever the reason, their minds are not there. They may be the representatives of Judaism, but they are not representing Judaism very well.

Well, we're not like those two, are we? No, not at all. We're probably worse. There's a video on the Internet. I don't recommend you find it. There is a crowd of people waiting to be served in a Popeye's, and the security cam is filming everything. And one guy gets on his cell phone to tell his wife that he is going to be late getting home, because of the crowd. Now, he must have said something nasty, because the really big guy standing in front of him turns around and starts beating him. Then he's stomping on him, and fortunately the security cam doesn't show below the counter. The guy had to be rushed to intensive care. I can't remember if he lived or not. That's pretty awful, but that's not the worst part. The worst part is everyone else staring ahead, pretending it wasn't happening. A whole lot of priests and levites there. Who turned out to be the good Samaritan? The best our culture was able to do was someone who discretely slipped out of the building and called 911 in a corner of the parking lot.

Jesus' Samaritan is a missionally-minded man. He doesn't even think—he kicks into gear. He helps the fallen victim. He is the example for all of us. We should be like the Samaritan. Good Samaritan! Jesus ends his parable with the words, “You go, and do likewise.” Go and be a good Samaritan. Help the poor, the sick, the needy. The one beaten down.

But that interpretation—and it's a good one!—is the answer to the first question the lawyer in our passage asks: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Actually, Jesus' parable is an answer to the lawyer's second question: “who is my neighbor?” The neighbor isn't the fallen victim; The neighbor is the good Samaritan. Why did Jesus pick a Samaritan? Because Jews HATE Samaritans. This is the second layer, and as adults we hear this layer. We don't hear it when we are a kid in Sunday school. We hear it when we are older and more ready for this tough lesson. Your neighbor is your ENEMY. The person you hate. When Jesus asks the lawyer, “which one of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?” The lawyer responds, “The one who showed him mercy.” Ha can't even get the word SAMARITAN out of his mouth. Never will he say that a Samaritan is his neighbor. Now, when Jesus says the words, “You go, and do likewise,” they mean something different. Love your enemies. Well, that gives us something to think about. Let's go home and think about what it means to love our enemies.

But here's the amazing third layer that I was telling you about! Here's the big twist, that you don't usually hear. Here's the part that made me raise an eyebrow and think, “ohhh, now I'm starting get it!” We know this: the Jews and the Samaritans are enemies. They don't like each other. They hate each other. Got it. This means, the Samaritan hates the Jew as much as the Jew hates the Samaritan. The Lawyer can't say that the Samaritan is his neighbor, and just as true: the Samaritan can't say the Lawyer is his neighbor. Now, we have another reason why Jesus picked a Samaritan as the hero of this parable. In real life, never in a million, billion years would a Samaritan help a Jew out! Jesus us making a big point here. Never in a million, billion years! Let's update the story a little, so it will make more sense to us today. The Jew on his way to Jericho is attacked by robbers and he lies bleeding and dying. Other Jews pass him by. So far the same story. Now, instead of a Samaritan, now we have an Militant Muslim terrorist from Iran, complete with bomb strapped around him, on his way to his 72 virgins in the great hereafter. Things start to get more clear. Does the Islamic terrorist come up to the fallen Jew and say, “oh dear. You're hurt. Let me help you.” Never in a million, billion years. He may kick him when he walks by. He may finish him off. But he will not help him.

So why does Jesus pick a Samaritan as his hero, knowing that in real life, never will a Samaritan help a fallen Jew? Because, in real life, we will never, never be able to love our enemies. It is impossible for us to love our enemies. Impossible. On our own. By human means. Never will we be able to will ourselves to help an enemy who has fallen. And that is Jesus' big point. You need God to be able to love your enemies. You need God's help. God loves our enemies. Really loves them. He made them. He loves them. Every hair on your enemy's head is numbered, too. God wants your enemy to have everlasting life, too. And once we get it in our heads that God loves our enemies just as much as he loves us, our behavior toward our enemies will start to change.

Now, I've heard from a lot of people what loving your enemy looks like. Here's what I hear a lot: “loving your enemy means wishing him well, even if you don't like him.” That's loving your enemy? Wishing someone well is not hard. Wishing someone well is always conditional. I can say, “I wish you well, as long as I don't have to be around you.” I can wish the Nazis well, as long as they surrender, because that's really the only way they are going to be well off.” I wish the guy who stole my girlfriend well, as long as he gets lost and lets me have my girlfriend back. See where I'm going. Wishing someone well is always conditional. You can't wish someone well as they are blowing up a cafe in Baghdad. Good luck in your bombing, I wish you well! No! You want the guy to not blow up people! That's how we wish people well. It's all conditional.

With God nothing is conditional. God loves every single person on this earth unconditionally. God plants his cross on earth, and he says, here it is! Grab hold! I will save you. But isn't that conditional? If you don't grab hold of the cross you aren't saved? That's not God's condition—that's our condition. God, I want to be saved, but I don't want to grab hold of your cross. I don't want to repent. I don't want to change my life. I don't want to put others first. I want to remain selfish. I want to continue to live a sinful life. I'll do it MY WAY, thank you. Those are my conditions.

And it's not like God won't agree to our conditions. God CAN'T agree to our conditions. Imagine that! God CAN'T do something. God can't agree to our conditions, because that is not the way creation works. That is not the way the universe works. God sustains the universe. He is the energy the universe runs on. God is wholly and perfectly good. The universe, therefore, runs on Good. But not us: we chose to run on sin. We actively chose to run on sin. Sin is our fuel. But the universe runs on good. If we run on bad sin and the universe runs on a good god, what should happen? Zaaaap! Like a bug zapper. Fried. Dead. God said it would happen in the garden. You will surely die, he told Adam and Eve. But it didn't happen. God loves us so much that he suspended the laws of goodness. He stopped the overwhelming good that he created from zapping us like bugs. He's still suspending the laws of the universe. He's still doing it at this moment. Right now. He is keeping all the amazing goodness in the universe from slamming closed on our heads and pulverizing us. Because he loves us.

And the only way he can get us out of this situation is through Jesus Christ. The cross is stopping the universe from crashing down on us. Jesus is like the big strong guy in the movies that holds the big steel door open, keeps it from slamming shut forever. He's holding the door, and he's saying come on! Get through! Everyone through! Come on! We jump through, right? Um, no, we stand there, and we say, “I've got three conditions!”

We are our own worst enemies. Which is why we'll never be able to love ourselves without God's help. God sent his son Jesus to die on the cross and create that way for us to have a relationship with the creator of the universe, the being who is so good that we would incinerate. No conditions, just the most amazing love.

What do I need to do to inherit eternal life? Love like God loves. Love God and love your neighbor.

Who is my neighbor? The one who shows us mercy. Our enemy.

How am I able to love my enemy? You can't. With man it is impossible. With God nothing is impossible.

Amen.

Discernment (Luke 9:57-62; 1 Kings 19:19-21)

Delivered at St. John's Parish, Quincy, IL, on June 27

Today's readings give us some lessons discerning our call. We can learn three things from this passage in Luke 9, and the one in first Kings. The first is this: it's ok to hesitate. It's ok to pause. Take some time to pray. The second: make sure you're called. Jesus may be calling you to something completely different from what you were thinking. We need to make sure that we are hearing Christ's call and not our own. The third thing: when we hear the call, and we know it is the call of Jesus, we've paused and prayed, we need to make sure that we obey Jesus and follow. So, I'm going to briefly unpack each of these three things.

The first: it's ok to hesitate. To pause. Today we have two passages that seem to be at odds with each other. One seems to say it's okay to hesitate, and another seems to say it's NOT okay to hesitate. The first is from first Kings 19: Elijah finds Elisha, who is plowing a field. Elijah passed by him and cast his cloak upon him. It's the call to discipleship! Elisha runs after Elijah and says, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.” Elijah lets him. Elisha slaughters all the oxen he was using to plow the field, and he and his family have a feast to celebrate his call. And then Elisha goes along with Elijah.

Now, wait a second! Our Gospel reading is from the end of Luke 9. We've got one guy saying he'll follow Jesus, and Jesus responds cryptically: Foxes and birds have homes, but I've got no place to sleep at night. O...k. Jesus sounds like a nut here. Then a second guy says I need to bury my Father before I can follow you. Jesus rebukes him, too. “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. You go and proclaim the kingdom.” Guess asking to stay home and bury your dad is the wrong answer with Jesus. Finally, we have a third guy who says “I will follow you, but let me say goodbye to my family first.” Hey, that's the same thing Elisha said! This should be an easy one. Jesus is going to let him do that, right? Nope. Jesus says, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.” Wow! Slap across the face! He even mentions plowing, and you know Jesus has read first Kings 19, so maybe he is criticizing the way Elijah and Elisha did things?

So, there's a contradiction, right? Which one is correct? Jesus, right? Elijah isn't God, so he obviously didn't know that when the guy you call hesitates you're supposed to reject him, right? Send him packing, right? Well, actually, the first Kings passage is the norm. Actually, the same thing that happened with Elijah and Elisha in Kings happens earlier in Luke, chapter 5! Just a few chapters before Jesus is disappointing these wannabe disciples, he calls Matthew. Matthew is sitting at his tax booth, and Jesus comes up to him and says simply, “Follow me.” Kind of like throwing a cloak on his shoulders. What does Matthew do next? He throws a great feast at his house. This is the same thing Elisha does!

So the Elisha passage is the norm. Elisha actually has a very positive reaction to be being called. What usually happens when God calls someone in the Bible? Here's a few examples from the Old Testament: God calls Moses from a burning bush. Moses responds: who am I? I can't free your people from Egypt! They won't listen to me. I don't talk very well. Excuses, excuses. Did God say, well, to heck with you, I'll find somebody else. No, he stuck with Moses. Jonah: he gets on a boat and runs away! God has to go hunt him down and bring him back to his task. Never once does God say, “aw, let Jonah go to Tarshish. I'll find someone else. Jeremiah: I'm but a child. I can't. I can't. You can just see God rolling his eyes and saying, “I give up!” But he doesn't. He sticks with these people.

So, Elisha's response is actually a very good one: let's celebrate! I'm going to be a prophet! Matthew's response to Jesus is the same: let's party! Jesus doesn't mind: he joins the feast himself. God is patient. It is ok to hesitate. It's even ok to be scared. It's okay to hesitate negatively. Actually, God wants us to hesitate. He wants us to pray to him and discern our call. What does the culture say? The culture says: plunge in—go for it! Don't hesitate. He who hesitates is lost. You may never get a second chance, fella! Get married in Vegas to someone you've just met. Go all the way! If you make a mistake, medical science can clear it up. The Bible says he who hesitates is wise. He who hesitates is listening for the Lord to speak.

That leads us to the second thing we learn from these readings. What is the Lord saying? Is he calling us to this mission or that one? Is he calling us to follow him here or there? This is where we can really break open the Luke 9 passage. Why is Jesus coming down on these wannabes so harshly? The first guy and the last guy are not listening to what the Lord is saying. The first guy was never called to follow Jesus. He just comes up to Jesus and says I'll follow you wherever you go. Jesus essentially responds, “you don't know what you are asking. I'm on my way to the cross. I'm not going to get any sleep until then. Are you sure you want to follow me there?” This guy knows that Jesus is the messiah, and the Jews had one idea of what the messiah was going to do when he came. Kick . . . you know what. The messiah was going to be a warrior. He was going to lead an army. He was going to overthrow the government. He was going to create a kingdom right here on earth and rule it himself. But that was not the way Jesus was going to do it. Jesus came to die, to be a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world. When we follow Jesus, we are following him in suffering. But the guy doesn't get that. He wants to follow Jesus for the wrong reason, and Jesus knows that. Which is why he never called him. What does the culture say? Senior year of High School you have to pick a career. Don't try to figure out what God is calling you to do with your life, pick something right now. And then we'll send you to a university to focus on that subject. Spend thousands of dollars on something that might not be your calling. What happens? A lot of people fail out. A lot of people realize they are going down the wrong path. Some turn around and pursue something else, feeling lost and behind everyone else. Others drop out.

I was pretty good at math in High School. I liked to play computer games. Translation: Fred is going to be a computer programmer! Get him in a math program. I thought I was called to play music. Neither path was what God called me to. One was chosen by my parents and my guidance counselor. The other was chosen by me. No! I went to James Madison University as a math major. Calculus killed me! I ran away from that. Had no idea what I was going to do. Decided I liked literature, became an English major: the major for those who don't know what they want to do. Went to a graduate school to learn writing. Wrote novels. Worked in Web design. Still knowing that I was not where I was supposed to be. Finally got the call from God to this. 20 years later. What if I had heard the call earlier? Don't know. Here I am.

The last guy in Luke 9 is worse than the first: Once again, he was never called. So, he is calling himself to Jesus—taking control. But he adds a second insult. I'm calling myself to you, Jesus, he says, but on my terms. He has reduced discipleship to a human undertaking. I'll follow you, Jesus, but I'm calling the shots. I'm doing it my way. Imagine going in for a job interview and saying, I'd like this job, but I'm going to set my own hours and I'm going to put together my own salary and benefits. Hmm. Let's see. I'd like that corner office, too. How should the employer respond?: “I haven't hired you yet.”

The culture is all behind this last guy. What does the culture say? Take control of your destiny. You can do anything you put your mind to, and do it your way. Be independent. Follow your own path, march to a different drummer. Go against the flow, swim upstream. But if God isn't calling you to that path, what is your life? You're living a lie. What would happen if people chose careers in order to obtain wealth and power and influence instead of listening for God's call? What if that not only happened in the world but in the church, too? I wonder what that would look like. Oh well, I guess we'll never know.

The third thing we learn from these readings: once you've paused, once you've made sure that you are called, then you follow. You'd think that's the easy part, but you'd be surprised at how much we let things get in the way. We find excuses, so we can avoid following. Here's where the second guy in the trio comes in. The second guy is called. Jesus says to him, just like he says to Matthew, “Follow me.” But the guy responds that he needs to bury his Father before he can follow Jesus. He responds with a point of Jewish law. His dad is not dead yet. We assume that the dad just died, and he'll be a day late running after Jesus at the most. No, he could have 20 more years waiting to follow. He's using the law as an excuse. He has set up the law as a barrier between Jesus and himself. It's a convenient excuse. We can't break the law, can we? Well, let's see how Jesus responds. Jesus rebukes him: “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. You go and proclaim the kingdom.” Jesus's call is stronger than the law. Nothing, nothing should come in between Jesus and the one he has called, not even the law itself. We're not talking about committing crimes here. We're talking about letting those little details build up, like excuses, so that we can not follow the call. In Jesus' time, the Jewish law was filled with little details that constantly got in the way of following God. That's why Jesus comes down so hard on the Pharisees throughout the gospels. They could have been such great followers of Jesus, but the little details of Jewish law became big obstacles.

Paul was one of those Pharisees, and Jesus had to knock the guy off his horse to get through to him. Jesus blinded him, he had to yank him out from under that pile of legal details. And what did Paul do next? He went on to Damascus and waited. He waited for three days. He paused. He prayed. He fasted. And then Ananias came and restored his sight, calling Paul to follow Jesus. And Paul followed. All three lessons we just learned today. This last lesson is tough for us. We may not have the Jewish law but some churches have legal battles going on, and those barriers are using up lots of time, money, and resources that could be used to grow the kingdom.

Aside from Legal issues, we've got a lot of other things that pile up and prevent us from following the call. We're too busy. There's not enough time in the day. We're distracted by technology and a seemingly infinite variety of entertainment. We're over-committed, and most importantly, we've invested too much in the path that we are taking. Too much money, too much time, too much study, too much effort. I know of a woman, a doctor of theology, she went to oxford. Her dissertation was on the authenticity of the Gospel of John. Her committee tried to destroy her. They bombarded her with questions and virtually attacked her. She succeeded, though. She passed. They signed off on her work. She asked a member of the committee, why did you all attack me so harshly? He responded: “we were ordered to. Your paper contradicted the head of the department's life's work.” That's the big hurdle. We've invested too much in the wrong path. That's why we see so many people in the media, in politics, in the culture defending lies. Obvious lies, but they have to defend the lies. They've invested too much in the lies. If they speak the truth, they will be ruined.

And that's exactly what Jesus calls us to do: ruin ourselves. We drop the lies we are living when we are called. We repent, we turn 180 degrees from where we were headed. We take our hand from the plow and slaughter the oxen, so that we cannot go back to that old life. We leave our fishing boats behind, and our nets. We completely eradicate our old lives to follow the call. Because that is what Jesus did. He was there at the creation of the world. He is the Word of God. He is the son of God. But he was called to be a sacrifice for us, to break the bonds of sin and death, so that we could have everlasting life. Jesus heard the call of the father, and he paused, he waited until the fullness of time. And when the time came, he followed the call. He became incarnate. He became man. And he suffered, he died, he was entombed. And then he rose again. The firstborn of the new creation. The first of a new order, of which we are all a part.

All we have to do is pause, listen, and follow.

Amen

Anxiety (Matt 6, Lev 19, Ps 70)

(Delivered at Trinity Chapel on May 6)

This Homily is dedicated to the outgoing seniors. It's for everyone, but especially those graduating in a week. The message is this: Do not be anxious! Jesus sums it up in our Matthew passage. Remember Merimna-o? First Greek word study we did Junior year in Rod Whitacre's Bib-interp class. There's probably a reason we did that word study first. This is a very stressful process. And we are at a place where we are starting to worry about food and shelter, both of these things being the products of having jobs. Some of us have jobs lined up. Some of us are still struggling to get jobs. Some us are finding our plans foiled at every turn. All of us are anxious. And when we get anxious, we start doing selfish things. We try to move in on someone else's opportunity. We start getting territorial. We start getting jealous. We start talking about people behind their backs. We start spreading rumors. Then things seem to keep getting worse.

Take the group of rules we looked at in Leviticus this morning. All of them were against pagan practices of their day, and many of those practices still exist today. Why would God warn the Israelites to not engage in these heathen practices? Because the temptation is very strong when one is—anxious. Turning to mediums and wizards—fortune tellers. We consult them when we are anxious about our futures. I've talked with Christians who consult tarot cards or go to astrologers. It's fun, they say, it relieves the stress and anxiety, even if the fortune is false. And these seem to be faithful Christians.

Here's another heathen practice: Why on Earth would anyone make their daughter into a prostitute? I have four daughters! What special room in hell would be reserved for me if I made them into prostitutes? But the pagans did that back then, probably to bring extra money into the family, so they wouldn't be anxious about food and shelter. We don't do that now—do we? Take a look at the culture, and take a look at where we send our children for university, and who we let them hang out with. What TV shows we let them watch. Most importantly, look at how we allow them to dress. It's a challenge to find decent clothes for even my 2-year-old. We may not be selling them into prostitution, but we're exposing them to the concept. The result is a land plunged into depravity, Leviticus says.

There's positive stuff in these rules, too. We should respect and consult the elders in our community. They have been there before. They know what it's like to be anxious. Not just your parents but everyone with gray on the head. I don't have enough gray yet, but my daughters are working on it. Consulting the wisdom of those who have been down the path already is one of God's remedies for anxiety. This is part of the intergenerational Christian community. Last year we had a horrible storm and one of my trees fell over. I got anxious. Who was I supposed to call? Who should I talk to? How much was this going to cost? I mentioned it at church, and one of the oldest members of the church came up to me and said, "I'll take care of it." Um. Really? He could barely walk, and he told me “no problem.” Next day, he brought two more of the oldest members of the church, and they had chainsaws and trucks, and they looked at the tree and said, “that little thing?” It was cut up and hauled away within the hour. My anxiety was cut up and hauled away, too.

When I was ordained this past weekend, the most common question asked of me by other clergy was, “do you have an assignment?” Nope. Not yet. Working on it. I've got until November. But the question made me anxious. Thankfully, their follow-up comment was this: “keep me updated, and I'll keep my eyes open for you.” That's what the Christian community is all about.

Leviticus also says that we should welcome the stranger who sojourns in our community with open arms. Anxiety keeps us from accepting outsiders. We're afraid for our stations. We're afraid for our positions. We're afraid of the stranger coming in an possibly taking our jobs away from us.

Well, Jesus sets us straight: Your heavenly Father knows that you need a job. He knows you need to eat. He knows you need clothes. But, here's the key—seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and God will give us what we need. Our Psalm today is one we can keep in our minds whenever we feel ourselves getting anxious: “May all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you! May those who love your salvation say evermore, 'God is great!' But I am poor and needy; hasten to me, O God! You are my help and my deliverer; O Lord, do not delay!”

Bring us your Christian community.
Bring us the saving work of your son, Jesus.
Take away our anxiety.
Amen.

The Full Armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-20)

(Originally delivered at Prince of Peace Church, Hopewell, PA on August 29-30, 2009)

Last week John talked about our rental bodies, how this flesh is just a tent, and how we shouldn't worry about death. This week we're going to talk about protecting these tents while we're still on earth. We all know about protecting ourselves, right? We wash our hands, we're supposed to, all the time to keep from transferring germs. Riding a bicycle or a motorcycle, we wear a . . . helmet. We have airbags in our cars & smoke detectors in our homes. If you're a police officer you have your bullet-proof vest. And we all know what equipment we need when we bungee jump, right? You're not into bungee jumping?

I've got a new baby! Four daughters now, but for the first time we have two under two years old. This means double protection. This means two car seats in the minivan at the same time. The infant has to be facing backwards and the toddler forward. It's really complicated, but we know how to do it.

So, we know how to protect our bodies in this world. What about our spiritual bodies, our souls? The apostle Paul says there is protection for that, too. It's called “Spiritual Armor.” Soldiers wear armor. They wear armor today. They wore armor back in Roman times.
Paul was a prisoner, watched over by Roman soldiers. When he wrote today's Bible passage, he was probably looking at his guard's armor. Armor has 6 main pieces: helmets, breastplates, belts, shoes, and they had shields and swords.

Paul attaches spiritual protection to each of these things: The helmet of salvation. The breastplate of righteousness. The belt of truth. The shoes of peace. More importantly the gospel or good news of peace. The shield of faith. The sword of the spirit, which is the word of God.

Why do we need this spiritual armor? Well, we needed it this week, didn't we? When we saw that pretty girl walking down the street and we thought about taking a second look. When we started gossiping about someone behind their back. When we began to doubt that Christianity is even true. With all the stuff we go through each week, temptations, doubts, guilt, fear, unexplained sickness. We should put that armor on every morning.

All those temptations, doubts, fears come from spiritual attack! Paul says in today's passage that we “do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” “Spiritual forces of evil” - that's Satan, our enemy. If you're a Christian, the enemy uses the sins of our pre-Christian life to tempt and confuse us. Ever see those old cartoons where a little devil pops up on the shoulder and whispers in the ear? And an angel is on the other shoulder whispering the opposite advice of the devil. It's kind of like that but waaaaay less cute. In the real spirit world, there are spiritual armies clashing in another dimension for our souls.

There's a great example of this in the Old Testament. Every time the king of Syria tries to attack Israel, Israel knows the plan and foils the attack. How can this be? Well, the prophet Elisha is praying to God, and God is revealing Syria's plans to Israel. The King of Syria finds this out and tries to capture Elisha. He surrounds the city with horses and chariots. Elisha's servant sees the ambush and cries out, “what shall we do?” Confidently, Elisha responds, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Elisha prayed for his servant's eyes to be opened, and behold he saw the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around. This was not a “flesh and blood” army! These were angel warriors fighting devil warriors. Spiritual armies clashing in another dimension!

Another reason why we need the armor: It helps us worship properly. We all worship. Every single one of us. God made us to worship. Even people who aren't religious. We all worship something. But are we worshiping God? Outside of America, in the third world countries, they know this. They know everyone worships something. The question there is, who or what are you worshiping? In these poorer countries, the spirit world there is not behind the scenes – it's out in the open! But here in America, we don't see much spiritual attack in the open – it's all behind the scenes. The armies of the enemy don't need to come out of the shadows. Because we're already worshiping the wrong things. We've got our Internet, our video games, our TVs, our massive amounts of pornography. We can barely get to church once a week – or just on holidays. Our focus drifts away from God.

For example many people are glued to entertainment. “We can't miss our shows.” The fall season is coming up. Let's see, I've got House on Monday, Hell's Kitchen on Tuesday, CSI New York on Wednesday, CSI Las Vegas on Thursday, Hmmm. I need to find a show for Friday. That's at least four hours of worship at the TV each week. And the national average is much higher. We get our focus off God with all these false substitutes our culture offers. So, the armor of God helps us focus on the one who gave us the armor in the first place. We worship God.

There's another reason we need the armor. We get distracted too easily. The enemy attacks us through our thoughts. You're trying to tune me out right now! Don't tune me out! I remember a time when I was sitting in rush hour traffic, and I was lost in thought. And then I start thinking about an argument I had with Cathi years ago. We got over that! We forgave each other. We gave it to Jesus. Why am I thinking about it now? Little devil on my shoulder. “Hey, remember that argument?” Or I'll just start thinking bad things about people. “You know what his problem is?” “Here's where he's going wrong. What a jerk!” Why am I thinking this? Lil' Devil again.

“Schadenfreude” is a German word. It means to take pleasure in the misery of others. Ever hear on the radio about some arrogant celebrity getting theirs, and you smile? Good! They deserved it! A friend of mine almost got a job that would allow her to travel the world. I think, “no fair!” She's never worked a day in her life! She didn't get the job after all, and I think, “good!” What evil thoughts to have! Lil' devil on the shoulder again. There are many other ways the devil sends his attacks into our life. And so God gives us armor to protect us. Do we all agree that we need the armor?

So, now how do we use the armor? We know how to use the everyday protective devices in our lives, right? During Flu Season we wash our hands more often, so that we don't transfer the germs to our children. We wipe down the toys in the nursery with anti-bacterial wipes. We properly strap the helmet on when we bike ride, because the head is the part of the body that can really get messed up on the sidewalk. We know how to properly use a seatbelt. We know the importance of buying a car with airbags. We know how to test our smoke detectors each year. We test ours every time I cook. When we're on an airplane, and the flight attendants begin the lecture, we usually tune it out. Why? Because we've heard it all before. We know what to do if something happens to the plane.

So if we know how to use protection in our physical world, how do we use God's protection in our spiritual world? When we ask Jesus into our lives, the Bible uses several images to describe what it is like. We put on a new skin. We clothe ourselves in purity, kindness and patience. We put on the armor of God. It's a way of recommitting to Jesus.

So, let's run through the armor again and think of how each of these things can help us. The helmet of salvation. Notice it's on the head, because it's something you have to keep in mind. You are saved. Lil' devil is right there on your shoulder, next to your head. He whispers in your ear, “Why would God want you? You're not really saved.” The helmet comes down, over the ear. Blocking the devil. I am saved. I accepted God's gift. Jesus died for me. It's one of the hardest things to keep in mind. God saved me from destruction. He wants me to live. He sent his son to die for me, so I could live.

What about the breastplate of righteousness? It protects your heart. You've heard the old saying, “follow your heart,” right? Well, it has a couple of different meanings. To the world, it means, "if it feels good, do it." To the Christian, it means listen to Jesus, who is in your heart. Righteousness means doing what is right. Christian freedom is freedom to do what is right, not just anything you want. When we have the freedom to do whatever we want, our sin encourages us to do what is wrong. We become slaves to our sinful nature. That's the result of, “if it feels good, do it.” God sets us free to do what is right, even if we don't want to do it. We do it because it is right. It may even hurt us. Put us at a disadvantage. But we do it because it is the right thing to do. Righteousness.

The belt of truth. I'm thinking of Batman's utility belt here. He had every gizmo and gadget on it possible. When you are confronted with lies, you've got to find the right piece of truth to counter it. Usually these truths are in the form of questions. We get lies about life from the culture all the time. The most prominent lies are when the world tells us how to raise our children. Here's a question from the utility belt: If the world knew so much about raising children, why are so many of its children wandering far from God?

The shoes of peace is a tough one, until you realize that Paul says you need feet prepared with the gospel of peace. It means we need to be able to share the good news of Jesus with someone at a moment's notice. Being ready, listening, ready for that opening. When I'm given the opportunity to share the gospel with someone, I usually find that my ready feet are running the in opposite direction. But every now and then, God makes it easy. I had a friend who complained about everything. He would go on and on about how people are so awful. My shoes of peace suddenly started itching. I jumped in with, “well, you've got the sin thing down! All you need is the salvation part, and you'll be a full-fledged Christian.” It was beautiful, only God could have pulled that one off.

The last two pieces of armor are the big ones. Paul even describes how to use the shield of faith: Use it “to ward off the slings and arrows of the evil one.” It's our first line of defense. The shield is there when the other pieces or armor aren't working too well. We need to buy time, so we throw up that shield and run. Hebrews 11:1: "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." This is how we combat doubt. Those mornings when we wake up and completely doubt that Christianity is real. We pick up that shield of faith and say, “I know that Christianity is real.”

Then we pick up the sword of the spirit. The Word of God. That's the Bible. We need to know that book inside and out. We read it, and it tells us why Christianity is true. The Holy Spirit points out verses that speak to our lives. The more familiar we are with the Bible, the better all the pieces of armor will work for us. If we only know a handful of verses, what good is that? Would we root for a football team that had a quarterback who knew only a couple of plays? We want a quarterback who knows as many plays as possible. When Jesus was in the wilderness, and the devil was tempting him, what happened? The devil would use scripture against Jesus, and Jesus would fling scripture right back. Lil' devil knows the Bible very well – how about us?

Finally, Paul says “Pray at all times in the Spirit.” He doesn't attach this to a piece of armor, but I think we know that prayer covers all the pieces of armor. We pray as we put on the armor. We pray before doing anything. Prayer is the way we talk to God. Reading our Bibles is how God talks to us. We've got to keep that communication line open. We've got to maintain that relationship. Through prayer and God's word we put Jesus first in our life. Through prayer and God's word we use the armor God gives us to fight spiritual battles. Let's not get defeated because we are unprepared. Put on the spiritual armor every day, and look forward to more victory in our Christian life.

Amen.

The World Hated Him First (John 15:18-25)

(Delivered at Trinity School for Ministry Chapel, Ambridge, PA on April 15, 2010)

Did you know that Christianity caused the economic crisis? It's true! According to the secular journal The Atlantic. People who had bad credit and were given loans anyway rushed into church and praised God. “I had bad credit and I got a loan anyway and now I'm a homeowner!” And they encouraged others to use God's magical power of blinding loan officers to bad credit. It's all Christianity's fault.

Other recent news: An Atheist Rapist successfully had his Christian cellmate evicted from the cell. The Christian inmate made the Atheist Rapist uncomfortable. The warden was happy to oblige.

Other news: Mother Theresa is going to be on a postage stamp this August on her 100th birthday—maybe. The Freedom from Religion foundation is trying to make sure that doesn't happen.

Finally, a British publisher has just forced a young adult writer to remove Christian references from his new book before it could be published. The publisher was reluctant to publish a book with an overtly Christian hero. Here ends the depressing news.

Well, what's the first thought that came into our minds? My mind? I thought: Ouch, what did we do wrong? How can we make it up to them? Obviously some Christian screwed up somewhere.

That's why this passage in John 15 is so comforting. Jesus says, “If the world hates you, remember that it hated me first.” The world hates Jesus first. Did Jesus bumble through his ministry, screwing up left and right? Like Jerry Lewis? No. He did everything perfectly. And yet the world still hated him.

We gotta stop beating ourselves up. I'm not saying we don't screw up, but the World is going to hate us. Actually it sounds like that's how we can tell if we're doing it right. If we're living the Christian life correctly. Does the world hate me? No? Now, what am I doing wrong?

Also, we can't strain ourselves trying to figure out why the world hates us. At the end of our passage, Jesus says the world hates without reason. Without cause. Irrationally. Well my news stories had reasons, didn't they? Political reasons: separation of church and state stuff. No, that's the excuse. The hatred is irrational.

Here's an example: my Atheist buddy. I love my Atheist buddy. Everyone should have one. He pads my sermons nicely. Atheist Buddy is really into board games. I'm into board games, too, but he is REALLY into them. He likes those big sprawling games that take ten days to play, they have a thousand figurines on the board, and you move one at a time and roll dice and spin a wheel and flip a card... Board games are his idol. He worships them. So, he's online and finds this game he really wants, and it's an expensive game, but he finds it really cheap. He is so excited. He is ready to make his purchase. Then he suddenly sees something in the seller's logo. It's a little fish. The Christian symbol. No! I really wanted this game! Awww. He cancels his order. And then he writes a lengthy, vitriolic email to the seller, telling him that he just lost a sale because he was a Christian, etc. etc. etc.

I asked him what happened next? Well, the seller sent an email back. What did it say? I don't know. I just deleted it. I didn't care. Irrational hatred. I still wonder what the seller said. You know what the email probably said? It probably said something like, “What did we do wrong? We're so sorry. Is there anything we can do to make it up to you?” We can apologize all we want. The world will still hate us without reason.

Why does God let this hatred of us go on? Today's Psalm (18) answers that: so we will call on him. So that in our distress we will cry out to the LORD. He rescues us from our powerful enemies, because our foes are too strong for us. The Lord is our strength. The Lord is our rock. Our fortress. Our deliverer. Our shield. Our salvation. Our stronghold. We need to stop apologizing and call on Jesus' name. He is worthy of our praise. And he saves us from our enemies. He knows what we are going through.

The world hated him first.

Amen.

Two Prodigal Sons (Philippians 3:8-14)

(Delivered at Prince of Peace Church, Hopewell, PA on March 20-21, 2010)

I want to tell you about two prodigal sons. The first we heard in the gospel reading last week. Young man asks his father for his inheritance. Father says ok. Kid runs off to the Big Apple. Blows all the cash on women and booze. Ends up in a pig pen with the pigs. Realizes he's eating worse than the pigs. Scripture says, “He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.” But then he “came to his senses.” Decides to return to his father and repent, saying, “I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” So he made the long journey back to his father. It was like he was running a marathon, away from his old, worthless life and toward his new life with his Father. Then we read, that “while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. The son repents to his father, and his father brings him the best robe, puts a ring on his finger, sandals on his feet. And they had a feast and celebrated.

In Paul's letter to the Philippians, Paul confesses to being the second prodigal son. You can find his story in Acts: Paul is traveling all over, persecuting Christians. Acts 9:1 says that he was “breathing murderous threats against the Lord's disciples.” He was on his way to Damascus to take Christians prisoner and bring them back to Jerusalem. He's what you'd call a “super villain.” He probably had a cat that he would constantly pet. And an evil laugh. Mwa ha ha ha. He was in his own pigpen, going in the wrong direction, away from his father in heaven, and wasting his talents on the wrong things. Then suddenly, on that road to Damascus, he meets Jesus in “a light from heaven that flashes all around him.” He goes blind, and when he is filled with the Holy Spirit later, scales fall from his eyes, and he could see again. He could actually see for the first time in his life, because he now belonged to God. He began preaching in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God. He was running back to the father, and the father ran to him, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

In his letter to the Philippians, he testifies: “I consider everything as loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish.” Rubbish is a nice proper British word for “trash.” But Paul's Greek word is closer to what's in that pig pen. Think excrement. Think of of the worst substance you know about.

Think of your past life before finding Christ. Before Christ, we did all these things that we thought were important, but when we look back...waste. Maybe we wanted to be famous and wasted our time trying to “make it big.” We want to be a famous actor or a famous writer or a famous singer or just famous. Or we bought a lot of stuff that became obsolete real fast, and now we look around our basements and think to ourselves, how did I end up with all this useless stuff? Or we thought we were witty and funny and said something hurtful to someone. That happens to me. I'm so funny! Hey, why are you crying? Or maybe something happened to us that wasn't even our fault, but we have that guilt just hanging over our heads all these years. Once we find Christ, all of that becomes rubbish.

All this rubbish is really heavy to us. That's when we stop calling it rubbish and we start calling it what it really is—sin. And that sin is just weighing us down. We can't take it anymore, we're about to collapse. Then Jesus comes along and he says, put your sin up here, on my back. I can handle it. And we throw our sin on Jesus' back, but it doesn't feel like anything to him. It has no weight to him. That's good, because he's got the sins of the whole world on his back, too.

Paul says that when we give the garbage of our old lives over to Jesus, we gain Christ, and are found in him, gaining a righteousness that is through faith in Christ—a righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. This righteousness changes us. After gaining this righteousness, Paul says: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.” This is a description of our marathon journey from the pigpen to the embrace of the father.

Let's quickly break these three things down, so we know what this marathon race is like. First, to know Christ and the power of his resurrection. What does it mean to “know” Christ. We can find the answer in the first chapter of John: John 1:10 says, “He, Jesus, was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not know him.” Verse 12: “Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” To know Christ is to receive him, to believe in him. And when we believe in Jesus, we are called to be children of God. I think of my own children. When I get home from the seminary, they all rush to meet me. Daddy's home! Daddy's home! Even the two year old will come over and hug my shins. The 7-month-old will start shaking with joy in her little bumbo seat. I didn't train them to do that. They know their father. If another guy came in the house and said he was me, they wouldn't buy it. They'd probably just stare at him. Juju would twirl her hair, looking concerned and then either hide or run back to mama. When we know God, when we receive him as our father, we know that we are his children.

The second part of Paul's description of the journey from the pigpen to the father is sharing, sharing in Christ's suffering and death. When we were living in the pigpen, these are the things that we avoided doing, because they were too uncomfortable. Oooh, I'd never start a conversation with a stranger! I'd never give up my cable and Internet, so I could tithe! I'd never volunteer to do that! I don't have the time. These are minor sufferings we take on, like Jesus did. Jesus was lonely. He said that he had nowhere to lay his head. He was surrounded by people! As the world gets more and more hostile to Christianity, we may be called to live lonelier and lonelier lives. But it's never lonely, because we have Jesus and the Christian community. We are like a salmon swimming upstream, against the tide of this culture and this world. And at any time we may be asked to die for the sake of Jesus. Sharing in his death.

Finally, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Hope for heaven. A vivid image: being resurrected in Christ! This is an easy description, because we can just picture heaven in our minds at any time. Everything that is good, everything that is right. I think of all the people that I'm going to meet. Loved ones: family and friends. Famous people like the saints and Moses and Abraham. Not only them but Jesus—the center of it all. The life of the party.

So, Paul describes what this journey is like, from the pigpen to the father's embrace. As we pursue God, run back to the father, we are knowing Christ, sharing in his sufferings, and hoping for heaven. As we take this journey we experience these three things by reading our Bibles and praying. How do we know Jesus more? Read the Bible, pray to him, asking him to give you more knowledge of him. How do we share in his sufferings? Read our Bibles. Learn about Jesus' sufferings. Pray that God will put us in difficult situations, so that he can show his glory to the world. How do you hope for heaven? Read our Bibles. Learn about heaven and the resurrection. Pray that God will give us peace and hope about the world to come. It's tough. Even the most learned seminarian or pastor has difficulty reading his Bible each day, or getting on his knees and praying for a long stretch of time. But, like exercise, once we make it a habit, we find that we can do it more, and it's very rewarding.

One of the things that makes it hard is sin. Our sin keeps reminding us of the rubbish of our past lives. We keep turning back. We keep returning to the pig pen. Paul's final words in this passage are those of encouragement. “I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” The father. He's pressing on for that loving embrace of the father. And he then says, “I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” What happens when a marathon runner looks back? He slows down. He trips. He stumbles. He loses the race. The good marathon runner presses on toward the goal, forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.

I won a marathon once. It was elementary school, and it was a couple of laps around a blacktop. Look at me. I'm not the fastest. I'm not the most limber. I don't have the best stamina. The other boys were much better runners. But I pressed on toward the goal, forgetting what was behind and straining toward what was ahead. At one point a big dog ran onto the blacktop and distracted all the other runners. They looked back. They forgot what was ahead. I pressed on, not being distracted by the dog, and I strained toward what was ahead. I won the race.

Now, think of what a finish line looks like. The crowds cheering. The judges. The banners. The water coolers. Now, think of what a Christian finish line looks like. While we're still a long way off, our father sees us and is filled with compassion for us; he runs to us, throws his arms around us and kisses us. Our father brings us the best robe, puts a ring on our finger, sandals on our feet. And we have a feast and celebrate. And all the angels in heaven rejoice.

Amen

Good Friday Sermon (John 19:5)

(Delivered at Prince of Peace Church, Hopewell, PA on Good Friday, 2010)

Behold the man!

Pontius Pilate said these words as he presented Jesus to the Jewish people. The soldiers had flogged and beaten Jesus. They had put a robe on him, a crown of thorns on his head. Pilate said he found no basis for the charges against him. Yet here stands Jesus, dressed up in a robe and crown, looking like a king. If the Jews saw him like that, they would go nuts! And then Pilate has the nerve to say that he finds no fault. Such contempt for both Jesus and the Jewish people. What a clever, clever Roman you are, Pilate. Because he doesn't believe Jesus is God.

The world did not know him, as John chapter one tells us. Jesus came into the world and it didn't know him. Friday is all about the world. Sunday is all about the truth. Friday is all about lies, the lies that the world tells itself, to avoid believing.

Behold the man!

Remember the Mel Gibson movie, “The Passion of the Christ?” It's all about “beholding the man.” Sure we see Jesus rise at the end, for a brief second. But the movie is all about beholding the crucified man and about all the horrible things the world can do to a man when it thinks that he is just a man. I asked a friend of mine if she had seen Mel Gibson's movie. She said: I don't want to see a man get tortured for two hours. She didn't believe in Jesus' divinity. She didn't know him. Jesus could be standing in front of her now, and all she would see is a man.

Behold the man!

This is Good Friday. Tonight we see what the world did to the man, Jesus. Tonight we celebrate his humanity. Tonight in our passion reading, the Jews tell Pilate that Jesus claimed to be the son of God. And Pilate got very afraid. Why are you superstitious now, Pilate? He's just a man, right? Behold the man, you said. Do you regret dressing Jesus up like that? Pilate even tries to free Jesus and the Jewish leaders blackmail him. And the whole time, he keeps insulting everybody: continually mocking the Jews and Jesus by calling Jesus a king. He even puts it in writing on a sign above Jesus' head on the cross. All this infuriates the crowd. But still Pilate does not believe. Behold the man, not the God. Beat him, torture him, taunt him. Crucify him. He's just a man, so why not do these things?

So, the world didn't know him as a king. They thought he was just a man. There's another way the world doesn't know him: thinking that he's just a God. I have a friend who says that Jesus played a trick. He pretended to die. He was God, he says, so he didn't really die. He was God. God cannot die. He pretended to die. It was a trick.

No.

If he was only God, he wouldn't get thirsty. Jesus was a man. Fully human. He did not pretend to die. He died. He was killed. Dead. His body was flogged. He was beaten. He was hung on a cross. He suffocated to death. He died. No trick. He died.

That's all we have tonight. That's all we have until Sunday. Luckily we know what happens. We know that Jesus died. No trick. He died because there had to be a sacrifice. We were doomed. Eternal death for all of us. That was the only option. But God does not want that. God wants us to live. So there has to be a sacrifice. All of humanity must be sacrificed. All of sinful humanity. Or! Or one perfect man. Jesus was that man.

Behold the man.

Crucified. Died. Buried. He is dead tonight. No trick. Not a game on us foolish mortals. Not a sly wink, and when our backs are turned, Jesus runs and hides. They pierced his side and he didn't flinch. He is dead. No life is in him. He breathes not. They carry his lifeless body to a tomb, put him in the darkness, and roll a stone in front of the door. Jesus is dead. He has been sacrificed. We can now live, because he has died. Justice is satisfied. The scales that justice holds are balanced. They are even. All is now right that was once wrong.

And Sunday, “dead Jesus” comes back to life. No trick. He was dead. As dead as the nails that pierced his hands. But Sunday we'll see that Jesus lives. He does not bring himself back. He's not hibernating. He's not a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. He was dead. And we know that the Father is the one who will raise him. Is that a parlor trick? If it is, then we should consider ourselves lucky. Because the Father does it again and again. And the Father will do it again and again. Jesus was the first, and we are all the rest.

This was the way to beat death. This was the only way to satisfy God's sense of justice. And yet he loves us so much that he wanted us to live. Forever. With him. That's why Jesus had to die. That's why that perfect, sinless man had to die. My friend who refused to watch the Passion is right. He had to be a man. Only a man could be tortured for hours in the place of all men. So Pilate is right. He had to be a man. Only a man could die in the place of all men. Jesus was fully man.

Behold the man.

But this is just Friday, and we'll find out on Sunday that he wasn't just a man. He was God. In three days we'll say “Behold God.” Behold the one who was and is and is to come. Behold the first and the last. Behold the Alpha and the Omega. Behold the one who holds the keys of death. But it's Friday, so all we can say right now is:

Behold the man.