The Great Ends of the Church: The Maintenance of Divine Worship

Sermon Text for April 29:
Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 95

It just seemed as if God was very near – nearer than God had been for a very long time. He stared into the burning embers of the campfire and listened as his friends sang, “Kum Bah Yah”. He couldn’t sing with them because at that moment he felt completely overwhelmed by God. He was beyond thoughts, and words, beyond any voluntary movement. All that he could do was stare into the fire and experience the moment. He sat there for a long time after the others had gone to bed and felt surrounded and filled by the presence of God.

One Sunday in church, something totally different, but equally moving happened to an older couple. They were life long church members and felt very comfortable with the familiar pace of the worship service – familiar friends, familiar hymns, familiar liturgy, even the familiar drone of the pastor’s voice that usually made them both a little groggy. But on this particular Sunday they were catapulted out of the familiar and into a whole different way of worship. Neither of them could identify when the change occurred. Maybe it was when the man let an uncharacteristic “Amen” slip out, or when his wife suddenly began to clap rhythmically during the anthem. But something changed for them that day, and they would never again be comfortable with the familiar.

Think for a moment about your own experience of a time when God seemed especially near. Maybe something happened when you were alone and like Isaiah you began to tremble in God’s presence. Maybe you were on a retreat with friends and somehow in that community, you felt that you knew God in a different way. It is important that we remember and identify these experiences because when we experience them with one another, in community, that is what the bible calls worship. And as Presbyterians we are here to make sure that the worship of God is maintained until Christ comes again. If suddenly everyone else in the world stops worshipping we will still be here worshiping God. It is who we are and what we do.

In recent years there has been a shift in the focus of worship so that it is no longer about what we think God desires or demands, but about what we need or desire. And music is one part of the worship service where our individual wants and desires are most clearly seen.

When I first started in ministry congregations argued about whether to sing gospel songs or, “The Great Hymns of the Church”. And sometimes the arguments became loud and bitter. One of my colleagues settled the argument in his church by hiding all of the gospel songbooks and then acting surprised that they were gone. Of course without the songbooks the church couldn’t sing the gospel songs.

I have never gone that far but I have been tempted. The question that the debate tried to answer is which style more clearly communicates our faith. Is our faith communicated better by songs like, “I Come to the Garden Alone” and “The Little Brown Church in the Vale” or in a hymn like, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”?

Thirty-five years later we are still involved in the same discussion, only now the battle centers on whether to sing the Great Hymns of the Church or “Praise Music”. Those who want to sing the Great Hymns of the Church often believe that the new Praise Songs are not worshipful. Those who love praise music often believe that if a song was written before 2004 it is too old. Faithful people on either side of the discussion argue that they get more out of one kind of music than the other. But you know what? Worship is not primarily about us. It is not about my feelings. It is about making an offering to God.

Worship is not about what I get out of it, but rather what I put in. Worship is about recognizing the wonders of God’s love and finding a genuine way to respond. It is about praise, confession and meditation, in a way that is pleasing to God. And if in trying to please God we also please ourselves, that’s great, but our feelings are not the focus of worship.

There are many biblical models for worship. We read of Isaiah’s moving experience of God’s presence in the Temple and wish we could duplicate that in our Sunday morning worship. In Psalm 95 we see a different response to God’s presence. While Isaiah’s response was very inward and private, the Psalmist is caught up in an uncontrollable explosion of praise. The Psalm does not assume that worshipful praise will take only one form. It can be lighthearted and hilarious and it can also be solemn and quiet. The Psalm begins with an invitation, “O Come let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.” Believers are invited to praise and joyful thanksgiving because God is the Rock of our Salvation.” God is the strong One from whom our salvation comes and on whom our salvation rests. And we sing because God has saved us.

We make a joyful noise and offer songs of praise in response to God. Our praise is not necessarily the jumpy, giddy, loud kind, although it might be. But it might also be quiet, deep, and too powerful for human expression. I remember praying at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem during one of my trips to the Holy Land. I had no sooner begun to pray than a great sense of joy and serenity welled up within me. I felt completely overwhelmed by the presence of God to the point that I could not think or move. The concerns I brought with me to the wall disappeared in the feeling. At that moment I could not form a complete thought or describe what I was experiencing even to myself. But I know that while I stood at the Wall I experienced praise, love, joy, and peace all wrapped into one. So our worship might be as formal as the doxology, as fresh and the newest praise hymn, or as quiet as a feeling too deep for words.

The Psalmist continues, “O come let us worship and bow down, let kneel before the Lord our Maker!” Worship is about recognizing and responding to the awesome power of God. In worship we see ourselves as small and weak in comparison to the huge, all powerful God, and sometimes the only reasonable response is to bow our heads and even bend our knees. In these moments our mood is reverent almost to the point of fear, and we might even feel amazed that God wants to be in a relationship with us. Yet we are called “the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.”
A well rounded worship service will enable us to express our praise of God with different voices. It will fill us with awe, humility and love. And it will put God’s desires above our wants and needs.

The Presbyterian Church exists to be the guardian of divine worship based on what scripture teaches us that God wants. God’s desires may not always excite or inspire me. This is true in worship and in other area of life as well. But as Presbyterians it is our mission to make sure that divine worship is practiced on God’s behalf and for the betterment of God’s people.

So let us sing to the Lord with joy and thanks. Let us offer songs of praise in a variety of voices, and sometimes with no voice at all. Let us kneel in utter humility before the God of Creation, and jump for joy in the presence of the God who saves us. This is what scripture teaches us that God desires and demands.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Great Ends of the Church: Shelter, Nurture, and Spiritual Welfare of the Children of God

Sermon Text for April 22:
Acts 2:41-47; I John 1:1-10

A bright young woman with everything going for her suddenly receives a diagnosis of cancer. She is devastated! Things like this don’t happen to people like her. Tearfully she tells her family and then swears them to secrecy. No one must know because she can’t even bring herself to say the word, “cancer” to anyone but those closest to her. And she feels more alone than she ever has felt. She feels as if she is the only one in the world who has ever received such dreadful news. She begins to draw into herself and away from friends. She stops returning phone calls and changes the subject when someone notices that she is not her old self and asks what is wrong.

She needs someplace where it is safe to ask the hard questions and where people who understand will offer her nurture and support. One day she allows herself to admit how fearful she is, and she shares the doctor’s diagnosis with a few close friends from church. Much to her relief no one judges her. No one pries or tries to get her to share more than she is comfortable sharing. Gradually her feeling of being alone begins to lift. These people care, they’ll be there, they will keep her going when things inevitably get even tougher.

The Presbyterian Church USA exists to be a safe haven when our members are wounded, and when the world no longer makes any sense. When the world drains us of all hope, when we’re striving with all of our might just to keep going, the Presbyterian Church provides spiritual nourishment and shelter. This is our reason for being: to provide for the Shelter, Nurture, and Spiritual Fellowship of the children of God. It’s what we do and who we are.

Shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship are the identifying marks of a truly Christian denomination or congregation. A congregation is genuinely Christian when it is a safe haven for people in trouble. A congregation is truly Christian when it is a place where believers find refuge when the world no longer makes sense.

When a congregation is genuinely Christian its members nurture one another in faith so that each one grows strong. The genuinely Christian congregation bows down to care for the weak, while reaching high to nurture those who are strong. In the genuinely Christian congregation members are joined together in a fellowship so deep that they know they belong to one another.

The first century Church discovered this spiritual fellowship almost by accident. Most of the earliest members were Jews and they worshipped in the Temple or the synagogue. But soon they discovered that the spiritual food in these services was no longer sufficient for their needs. Their belief in Christ defined them so completely that the Christians began gravitating to fellow believers’ homes after worship to break bread with one another. In the breaking of bread and sharing the cup the bond which connected them was strengthened.

The Book of Acts tells us about this fledgling Christian fellowship. Members worshipped with their Jewish families and then went on to meet in each other’s homes. Their identity as followers of Jesus broke down all of the walls that normally separate people. They even gave up private property in order to share what they had with one another. This caring community was so attractive that those outside were drawn to Christ and the community grew.

The writer of I John talks about this “spiritual fellowship”. John and the other disciples felt the presence of Christ in their lives and realized it was not for them only. It needed to be shared with others and so John writes, “we proclaim” Christ to you, “so that you may have fellowship with us; and our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ.”

Christian fellowship and nurture is bigger than a congregation or a denomination. All who name the name of Jesus are joined together in a fellowship of caring, nurture, and fellowship. When I heard the news of the tragic shooting in Virginia last Monday I was deeply saddened like the rest of you. I wondered how this could happen to some of the best and brightest of our nation’s young people. And then I remembered Columbine. I felt my hear clutch within me. In April of 1999 I served a Church in Littleton, and the grandson of one of our members was among those who were murdered. The tragedy was almost unspeakable, and last week it happened again. For a while the old pain returned and was added to new grief.

Interestingly the week of the Columbine murders I was preaching on the “Shelter, Nurture, and Spiritual Welfare of The People of God.” And I absolutely didn’t know what to say. But within hours people I did not know, from all across the country sent emails pledging love, support, and prayer. Flowers arrived from strangers. One man from California called to say he was ready to jump in his car and drive to Littleton if I thought he could help. One church sent five hundred origami doves as a sign of their love.

And slowly I began to see a new reality: In the love of Jesus Christ we belong to each other – even to people we will never meet or even see are a part of a shelter constructed by Christ himself. In the Church of Jesus Christ we are sheltered, nurtured, and joined together in a mystical union of caring and support. The support of faithful people who reached out to us in 1999, helped me and my congregation survive that difficult, crucifying time.

I put the names of some of the pastors and chaplains who are ministering in Blacksburg, Virginia in the bulletin. You belong to a congregation in Lakewood, Colorado, that shelters, nurtures, and provides spiritual fellowship for you. And members of Christ’s Body related to Virginia Tech, and the churches in Blacksburg need to be sheltered and nurtured by our prayers, cards, emails, flowers, and anything else we can think of.

I am proud to tell you that the Presbyterian Church USA was on the scene immediately with personnel and money to assist the churches, pastors, and others in the community. Because you and I are part of the Presbyterian Church USA we will continue to bring shelter and nurture for a long time to come through disaster assistance teams.

Friends, that’s what it’s all about. Because of Jesus Christ, we shelter and nurture one another. That’s why we exist. It’s what we do and who we are. I know that sometimes people get angry with our presbytery and our denomination, but right now we can be proud. Because the Presbyterian Church USA exists to provide shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship for the people of God, you and I are making a real difference in the lives of people in Virginia and around the world. Thanks be to God.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Great Ends of the Church: The Proclamation of the Gospel for the Salvation of Humankind

Sermon Text for April 15:
Romans 1:16

Life just isn’t the same anymore is it? All around us there is change and insecurity. Unfortunately that insecurity has invaded the church and we feel anxious. You wonder, “What is going to happen to us? Will we be able to find a new pastor? Why are we here?” As scary as these questions seem, they are actually healthy, and in some ways inevitable when a pastor leaves. The Presbyterian Church USA provides a framework called “The Great Ends Of The Church” to help local congregations wrestle with these questions. When everything around us fights to be different, the six “Great Ends” remind us why we exist. All Presbyterian Churches are defined by the Great Ends. They tell us why we exist, and define who we are and what we do. Over the next six weeks we will examine the Great Ends of The Church one by one.

The first “Great End” is “The Proclamation of the Gospel for The Salvation of Humankind.” Proclamation is not the only thing we do, but everything that we do ought to involve the proclamation of the gospel. The way we treat each other, the way we do business as a church, the way we present ourselves to the world, all ought to be considered “the proclamation of the gospel. So we are good news for one another and for those outside of these walls.

The Apostle Paul is perhaps our greatest role model for proclaiming the gospel. To be sure, he was an unlikely candidate to become the chief framer of Christian Theology. Early in his life he hated the church and was one of its chief persecutors. He considered the teachings of Jesus, which emphasized grace over law, to be a dangerous heresy that threatened the salvation of the Jewish people. Yet this uptight, law-bound, Pharisees’ Pharisee, discovered the truth about Jesus and became the greatest advocate for the religion of grace.

Let’s look for a moment at the difference between a religion based on law and one based on grace. In some ways the law-bound religion is comforting. All that is necessary for salvation is to obey the law. The problem arises when the believer realizes that it is impossible to obey all the laws all the time. Therefore salvation becomes impossible. A religion based on grace in some ways is more frightening. In Christianity salvation does not depend upon what I do, but upon what God has already done. So my fate is out of my hands, I am not in control, and that is scary. On the other hand it is comforting to know that God has done for me what I cannot do for myself. God chooses me for salvation.

Paul was able to change from proclaiming law to proclaiming grace, because of an encounter with the God of Grace on the road to Damascus and because of the witness of a man named Ananias, who believed in Christ. He helped Paul see that God had already given him the salvation that he was trying so hard to earn.

The Presbyterian Church exists in order to become an Ananias for someone else, and to “Proclaim the gospel for the Salvation of Humankind.” After the Damascus road experience, the proclamation of the gospel became Paul’s reason for living. He simply had to preach the gospel. He became so driven that he wrote to the church in Corinth “Woe is me if I do not proclaim the gospel.” It was Paul’s “driveness” that turned Christianity into a world religion.

The Church today has received Paul’s work as an inheritance. Not only have we elevated Paul’s writings to the level of scripture, but he is a model for much of what we do in the world. Like Paul, we attempt to preach the whole gospel, not only to people like us, but to the whole world. And the Presbyterian Church has hundreds of mission workers spread all across the world, as well as thousands of us here at home.

But some of us are not comfortable with the idea of freely proclaiming the gospel to a world wide audience. It seems presumptuous to say that the atheist, the Hindu, the Buddhist, or Moslem needs to know what we know. Almost thirty-five percent of Presbyterians believe that “all different religions are equally good ways of helping a person find ultimate truth.” The idea that all religions are equally good saves us from being judgmental and it relieves us of the responsibility of sharing the gospel. If all truths are equal then there is no value in swapping one way for another. And perhaps some of us are even embarrassed by the gospel.

When I was in seminary, the school hosted an annual Christian/Jewish dialogue. One year the Christian representative to this dialogue was a prominent Pauline scholar, but when he sat at the table with learned Jews, he could not state Christian principles articulately. The rabbis stated the Christian truths for him and then dialogued with themselves. He was so afraid of offending that it appeared he had nothing to say. He was embarrassed by the gospel.

It was as hard to proclaim the gospel in Paul’s day as it is in ours, but Paul found a way to tell the story of grace – the story of Jesus – without embarrassment or fear. In his letter to the Romans he said, “I am eager to proclaim the gospel to you who are in Rome for I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.”

I confess that even as a pastor I have not always been faithful in proclaiming the gospel. Like the seminary professor I have not wanted to appear like a spiritual imperialist; stealing members of other religions for Christianity. I have always favored inter-faith dialogue and I have insisted on respecting the other persons’ spiritual values. But it has only been in the last half of my ministry that I have understood that it is okay to value what my faith says too, and to hold fast to my beliefs while allowing others to do the same.

The Presbyterian Church USA exists to “Proclaim the gospel for the salvation of humankind.” But this only becomes real if we do it here at First Presbyterian Church in Lakewood. National mandates mean nothing if they are not carried out by the local church. So as you consider your vision for the future you must ask yourselves, “How is what we are doing (or about to do) proclaiming the gospel?” In your proclamation I hope that you are always respectful of the beliefs and values of others, while still holding firmly to our tradition as well.

My prayer for First Presbyterian Church of Lakewood is that you will never be ashamed of the gospel and that God will fill you with such zeal that like Paul you will proclaim, “Woe is me if I do not preach the gospel”!

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Easter 2007: The Power of the Resurrection

Sermon Text for April 8:
Luke 24:1-12

I love to preach on Easter because in addition to our regular crowd of faithful believers, there are a variety of other people here as well. There are some who really don’t want to be here, but are here anyway because it is important to someone they love. There are some who believe, but have never felt comfortable within the fellowship of the church, so they stand on the sidelines, declining to make a commitment. There are some who are agnostic or even atheist who are daring us to say something that will tip them toward faith. But the magic of Easter moves people off of the sidelines and into the community at least for an hour or so. If any of these descriptions fit you, then this message is especially for you. I am glad that you are here.

The resurrection is the most wonderful story that the church has to tell, but we haven’t always been clear about who the story is for. For decades the Church tried to contain the message so only a select few could hear. But slowly God changed the Church’s heart so that now we know that the Easter story is for anyone who wants to celebrate the wonder of God’s love.

Almost twenty centuries ago a group of women led by Mary Magdalene made their way to the tomb of Jesus. The last few days were excruciatingly painful for the women and the disciples of Jesus. When Jesus died on the cross, all who believed in him were devastated. Their grief was deeper than the normal grief at the death of a loved one because when Jesus died, all of the hopes, dreams, and aspirations of his friends died with him. The women were operating on automatic pilot that day as they moved toward the tomb. Nothing seemed real except the death of hope; the past no longer mattered, the future seemed impossible, and the present seemed pointless.

As the women made their way to the tomb, I think they secretly hoped that Jesus could reach out from the grave and comfort them. It was a fool’s errand, but even in death the women looked to Jesus for comfort. At least they would find comfort in doing what needed to be done, in anointing the body of Jesus for burial.

But when they got to the tomb, things were not as they expected. The door was open and the tomb was empty. As they peered inside, the women were greeted by angels who asked, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” …. “Remember how he told you that on the third day he would rise?” The women remembered and ran to tell the disciples that Jesus was raised from the dead, but they didn’t believe. The Bible says that the women’s story “seemed like an idle tale”.

That’s the story according to Luke. For many years those outside of Judaism were not invited into the community of faith. Non-Jews who heard the story, even if they believed, could only watch the community of faith from the sidelines. They were never accepted into the community as a brother or sister. They were considered less worthy than real Christians.

The Church has always had people like this, who exist around the edges either because the church judged them unworthy or because they themselves fail to commit to the church. But before the end of the first century the circle of acceptance was expanded so that all who wanted to be a part of Christ’s family were encouraged to belong.

In the Book of Acts we read of one of the most important moments in the life of the Church. The question this story answers is who can be included in the Body of Christ. In the Mediterranean Sea Port of Caesarea there lived a Roman commander named Cornelius, who is called a “God Fearer.” As a “God Fearer”, Cornelius believed the Jewish story of salvation through God. He expressed his faith as one who could only exist around the edges of the Synagogue. Despite his obvious faith he was never considered a part of the community. We can imagine Cornelius attending special feast days in the Synagogue, always making sure to stand at the back of the gathering, separated from the real Jews.

But all of that began to change one day when God spoke to him and told him to invite the disciple Simon Peter for a visit. The invitation was not easy for Peter to accept. He did not associate with people like Cornelius, and he struggled with whether it was right to share the story with someone outside of the community. But slowly it dawned on Peter that the resurrection story belonged to everyone who wanted to hear, maybe especially to people on the edges, people who have been ignored, even people that some of us find contemptible (as Peter found Cornelius). The story of Cornelius teaches us that God draws the boundaries of the Church wide enough that no one needs to be marginalized.

Peter accepted Cornelius’ invitation and shared the amazing story of the resurrection to his whole household, and the bible says that Cornelius believed. And suddenly he was no longer on the outside looking in. He received the resurrection story by faith, found forgiveness for his sin, and instantly became a part of the community.

If you sometimes feel like Cornelius, as if you only exist on the edges of faith, and the margins of the community, then the story of the resurrection is especially for you. Belief in the resurrection is the ticket into the community of the accepted. When we believe the resurrection story, our loving God embraces us saying, “I’m glad you are here. Welcome home!”

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Reflections on Holy Week

Most of you who are reading this blog are aware that as of today, the Church has entered into one of the holiest times of the year. During “Holy Week” we take time to remember the last days of Jesus’ life, and we both celebrate and grieve. We celebrate Jesus’ short journey down the Mount of Olives and his hopeful entry into Jerusalem. Had things gone differently Jesus might have brought the visible Kingdom of God to the earth.

But our celebration is cut short because of the fickle nature of humanity. Those same people who hailed Jesus as King on Sunday, called for his crucifixion by Thursday or Friday. The Kingdom was not established in a visible way and we are still waiting, and grieving.

When I was last in Jerusalem in the summer of 2001 my colleagues and I went to the “Upper Room”. We know that it can’t possibly be The Upper Room, where Jesus and his disciples celebrated the first communion. Much of that part of Jerusalem has been repeatedly destroyed by earthquakes. But knowing that the room can’t possibly be the “real Upper Room” does not detract anything from those who are on a spiritual journey. They come to the Upper Room to remember the events that took place there, and they often kneel on the hard floor with looks of utter devotion on their faces.

When Jesus established communion as something different from Passover, he told his disciples to remember him as often as they break the bread and share the cup. This kind of remembering is never passive. When we remember, we find ourselves in the Upper Room with Jesus and the disciples. Suddenly we are breaking bread and sharing the cup with Peter, James, John, and Jesus. This kind of remembering can easily drive the believer to his or her knees.

As we move toward Easter, read the story of the last few days of Jesus life again. Ask God to help you remember, so that you are actually with Jesus and the disciples. Perhaps as you read this meditation you will hear Jesus saying to you, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

When Things Need To Be Changed

Sermon Text for March 25:
John 2:13-22

It was Passover time when Jesus and his disciples entered the Holy City. The narrow streets vibrated with excitement as vendors hawked their wares to the many thousands of visitors who have come to the big city. Some have come to buy and sell, but most have come to celebrate Passover, and to remember the terrible yet wonderful night generations before when God finally won their release from Egypt. This year Passover held special meaning for Jesus and his disciples. It was the beginning of the end for Jesus. From this moment on the leaders of the Temple would look for a way to eliminate Jesus.

It should have been a joyous time but when Jesus entered the Temple he sensed that something was very, very wrong and his joy was replaced with rage. This was not the house of prayer that Jesus envisioned. The holiness of the Temple was replaced by a carnival atmosphere that was detrimental to prayer and made worship all but impossible. It was time for Jesus to take a stand.

John tells the story of the “angry Passover” in the very beginning of his gospel. Most scholars agree that historically the incident took place at the end of Jesus’ ministry. But John tells us of the “angry Passover” incident in the beginning of his gospel so his readers will understand that even from the beginning of his ministry Jesus was in conflict with the Temple authorities. The whole of John’s gospel is set in the context of this major conflict.

That day when Jesus entered the Temple he saw people selling cattle, sheep, and pigeons. He saw the money changers at their tables making a profit from the people’s need, and something snapped. He made a whip and drove all of them out of the Temple. He stampeded the sheep and cattle, overturned the money changer’s tables, scattered their coins, and screamed at them, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s House a marketplace!”

This doesn’t sound like the Jesus we know does it? His reaction is perplexing and in many ways makes no sense. The animals he drove away were needed for the sacrifice, and without them everything would grind to a halt. The more wealthy people purchased large animals for the sacrifice at the Temple rather than risk driving them miles from home. If they drove a young ram or bull from home and it got cut or bruised, it became ineligible for sacrifice. So it made more sense to buy a perfect animal in Jerusalem. The poorer people spent a few pennies in the Temple to buy doves for the sacrifice and the system worked for the convenience of everyone. It was they way they had always done it, at least as far back as anyone could remember.

Even the money changers played an essential role. Worshippers in the Temple were required to pay a tax and it had to be in an appropriate coin. Believers came from around the Empire to celebrate Passover. And they carried the coins of the realm, stamped with the likeness of Caesar or one of the other gods. These coins were illegal within the Temple because they were considered graven images and were against Jewish law. The money changers merely exchanged bad money for good at a profit. The system worked, it was needed and the way they had always done it.

But on this day, the way things had always done was not acceptable to Jesus. He saw that the system had taken on a life of its own. Instead of existing to serve the people, now it existed to perpetuate itself and the people served the system. The Temple was majestic and supposed to draw believers into worship, but it had become a typical oriental bazaar and worshippers had to run the gauntlet of merchants just to get inside. Jesus was angry because the Temple’s purpose had been subverted. Instead of calling people to worship it was an obstacle in the way of worship.

So Jesus used all of his personal authority and evicted those who put obstacles in the way of worship. The religious leaders whose very lives were invested in the way “they had always done it” were angry at Jesus, but cautious. Instead of having him arrested for disrupting the Temple’s activity, they asked him by what authority he acted. And Jesus gave them the first prophecy of his death and resurrection. “Destroy this Temple and I will build it up again in three days,” he said.

Each of the gospel writers records this incident. They want us to know that Jesus challenged anything that made faith more difficult for the people. No human system, nothing that people make up, should stand in the way of faith. And when it gets to the place that people exist to keep the system going, instead of the system serving the people, then radical change is needed. And change is what Jesus brought to the Temple in the story we read today.

Sometimes I wonder what parts of our life we keep doing because it’s the way it has always been done, even if no one can remember why. What things do we do that are expedient, but which actually get in the way of our loving one another and serving Jesus Christ? I wonder if we need a good housecleaning.

I do not know you well enough to hazard a guess about what part of your life needs such a housecleaning. But I know that you know, even if you would fight to keep things exactly as they are. You know what tables need to be overturned.
And that is why God gave us Lent. During Lent we become introspective and confessional, and we invite the One who overturned the tables in the Temple to overturn the tables in our lives and in the life of the church. Then on Easter morning we begin again as people who are cleansed, refreshed, and ready to minister in His name.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock