Answering Christ's Call

Sermon text for January 27, 2008
Matthew 4:1-22

It seems like an irreverent thought, but sometimes I wonder if the world wouldn’t be better off if God just had better marketing skills. In Jeremiah 31 God promises a new covenant which will be written on believers’ hearts. The prophesy says, “I will be their God and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another or say to each other, ‘Know the Lord’ for they shall all know me.”

Fulfilling this promised new covenant would seem to be a much more efficient way of handling things. For one thing if everyone knows God, it would be hard for us to mess things up. If I were running things I would have God say something like, “Let there be profound knowledge of me throughout the earth. Let every person know that I am God.”

Well, I am not running things and the promise has not yet been fulfilled and so we are left to struggle along each with our own understanding – each picking and choosing what we believe. And if we move away from the most basic of Christian creeds, ”Jesus is Lord” it is almost impossible to find complete agreement, even in a very small group.

And so we struggle, sometimes with one another, and sometimes against one another in the name of the gospel. The new covenant is not yet written on human hearts, so God relies on us to find the gospel truth and share our discovery with others. So the knowledge of God is spread on human hearts one person at a time.

Faith sharing comes hard for most Presbyterians. Some of us don’t feel we can share our faith even with our best friends or spouses. Faith lives deep within us, in a place so personal that we rarely let anyone else share that part of us. True faith sharing requires being vulnerable to others and risking being hurt or rejected. Perhaps this kind of vulnerability is possible only for those who feel safe in the Savior’s love. When we live securely in the Savior’s love, we are part of an ancient story that demands to be told over and over again. Faith-sharing is at the heart of our gospel lesson.

The Bible says that when Jesus heard that John the Baptizer was arrested he withdrew to Galilee and made his home in Capernaum by the Sea, “in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, on the road by the sea … Galilee of the gentiles.” Zebulun and Naphtali were traditionally gentile strongholds of which Isaiah spoke when he said, “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.”

Galilee was heavily populated by gentiles and Capernaum itself was very cosmopolitan. The small city welcomed visitors from all over the Mediterranean world. They came in caravans along a major international highway that Matthew calls the road by the Sea. When Jesus was at home in Capernaum he ministered to those whom the gospel characterizes as “living in deep darkness.”

If we use our imaginations we can see Jesus walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee. As he walks he encounters some fishermen plying their trade; they are casting a net into the sea. Jesus says to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” They immediately leave what they are doing and follow Jesus. Walking a little further along the shore, Jesus sees other fishermen working with their father mending their nets. “Follow me,” he says, and like the others, these fishermen walk away from everything to learn how to “fish for people”.

When Jesus lived, the knowledge of God was not yet inscribed on the hearts of the people. Both Jew and Gentile lived in what the Bible calls “deep darkness”. Jesus invited the fishermen to “fish for people” by shining the light of God’s love into the darkness in which they lived.

I believe that as soon as we dare to call ourselves “Christians” we must stand with Jesus and all believers who came before us. Like them our primary job is to shine the light of God’s love into lives that are being lived in darkness. We must continue to shine the light until the new covenant is written on every human heart.

I have been with you for almost a year and in that time I have been very impressed with the way you surround visitors to make them feel welcome. Some of the visitors were truly living in “deep darkness”, and you shined the light of Christ’s love into their lives.

Now you need to take the next step and learn how to “fish for people” who have not yet walked through the door. This is Jesus’ call to those who want to be disciples. The good news is that when Christ calls us, Christ also empowers us. So when we “fish for people” Jesus is a part of that conversation.

You are awaiting the arrival of your new pastor. Some of you may be thinking that once the “new pastor arrives, everything will be alright. The church will grow and we will be like we used to be.” It is important for you to know that a pastor’s role in bringing new people into the church is very limited. Most people visit a church because a friend or relative invites them. So that means church growth is primarily up to you.

You are a welcoming congregation and now you must become an inviting congregation. Start by telling your faith story to each other. When you feel confident, try sharing with a trusted friend. As your comfort level grows, try telling your story in a more risky setting. Remember that you do not have to know everything about the gospel. You only need to know what Jesus means to you, and how to express it to others. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself comfortable with telling your faith story and connecting your story to the church. Sharing faith is the mark of true discipleship. It means we have heard Jesus’ invitation spoken to every generation of believers. “Follow me”, he says, “and I will make you fish for people.”

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Following the Lamb

Sermon text for January 20, 2008:
John 1:29-42

John’s disciples didn’t know it as they stood talking beside the Jordan River, but they were about to have a life changing experience. The change will begin when they hear John the Baptizer says, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Such simple words, but they were filled with a depth of life changing meaning.

By this time in the story, Jesus has already been baptized by John, and the mood is tense, filled with expectation. Something is about to happen. The Jews don’t know it but they are waiting for Jesus to begin his ministry.

So here we see John standing near the River with some of his disciples when Jesus comes walking by. According to John’s account these two giants of the Kingdom do not even speak to one another. So far as we know there is not even a polite nod of the head. In fact this non-encounter is hardly worth mentioning except for what happens between John and his disciples. John’s words set in motion a process that would forever change the disciples’ lives. He says, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”

In terms of evangelism, this is not a great opening line. In fact, it is such a strange idea that it is hard to believe that anyone in first century Israel would have understood what he was talking about.

It appears that John’s own understanding begins to grow as he hears himself speak the truth about Jesus. Slowly the light begins to shine. Jesus is the one about whom John has been preaching. He is the one for whom John has labored tirelessly. As the light dawns, John is moved by a feeling of great humility. Standing near Jesus, John feels totally inadequate. He feels small and unworthy to perform even the most humble act of a servant. Yet he does serve by telling his friends, “I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”

There it is out in the open for the first time. Jesus, the Lamb of God is also the Son of God. At this point in the story we would love for the disciples to fall on their knees in penitence, or to lift their voices in praise. But after hearing this most important news, nothing happens. No one does anything. Jesus passes by, the moment passes, and John and his disciples continue with whatever they were doing. The story stalls at least momentarily.

What I want to know, is what did John’s disciples think when they heard his testimony? His word should have carried a lot of weight with them. Was his testimony the beginning of faith? We simply don’t know. All that we know is that upon hearing the testimony disciples did nothing, and John did nothing.

It’s frustrating isn’t it? John shares the most important truth in the world, but neither he nor his disciples do anything about it.

Like John’s disciples, when we hear the news that Jesus is the Lamb of God we have several choices. We can reject the idea because it doesn’t make sense to us. We can accept the words as true and still do nothing. Or we can believe the words, let them take root in our hearts, and use them as the foundation of life. When we allow the words to take root we draw closer to the One who forgives us and makes us whole. But it is possible to remain passive while appearing to be actively involved.

Passive involvement is the plague of the people of God. In Old Testament times as in Jesus’ day, believers often went through the motions of belief. They attended the synagogue, offered sacrifices, and tried to obey the law. But they were not involved with God and God told them so. He said, “I don’t want your sacrifices, I want your hearts!” These believers were internally uninvolved while outwardly doing all the right things. And the sad part – frightening part – is that I don’t think they knew they were uninvolved and holding themselves back from God.

John’s disciples heard the good news: Jesus is the One about whom John has been prophesying. He is the reason for John’s being born. Yet the disciples and John remain uninvolved.

The next day Jesus approached John and his disciples again and John repeated his testimony. “This is the Lamb of God.” This time, the disciples began to follow tentatively, from a distance. And finally upon Jesus’ invitation they began to actively search. They wanted to know what Jesus was all about. They wanted to know what he could tell them about the important questions of life. Slowly over a period of years the disciples found themselves involved both inwardly and outwardly. Following Jesus became their life’s quest.

Let’s imagine that we are standing with John along the River as he announces, “Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” What is your response? Do you want to know him better? Do you want to praise him or perform acts of gratitude?

Jesus is the Lamb of God. Let the life quest begin!

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Power of Baptism

Sermon text for January 13, 2008:
Mark 1:4-10

Baptism is one of the great privileges of the Christian faith and one of our greatest joys. When I baptize a baby, I feel like my whole being is smiling, and when I baptize an adult I literally feel my spine tingling with joy. And nothing is more sure of putting a smile on your face than Baptism, because as often as we have witnessed it, it is still a very special moment.

But baptism means different things to different people. For some, it is like an insurance policy that you get just in case something terrible happens. Many years ago I was asked by a mother whose baby girl had died moments after birth if I would baptize her so she would go to heaven. My heart broke for the mother as we talked about her baby and baptism and the love of God. I offered to do the baptism, but first I shared with her that faith teaches us that baptism is not necessary for salvation and that all children have a standing invitation to come to Jesus, who once said, “Let the little children come to me and do not forbid them, for as such is the kingdom of God.

So, for some, baptism carries life and death proportions while for others it is just a good excuse to throw a party. Every once in a while, someone without a church affiliation will call the church and ask us to baptize a baby on a certain date, usually the next Sunday, because the invitations to the “Christening” party are already in the mail. Usually they don’t know why we baptize, but they know that others have received baptism and it is a good time to celebrate.

For people of faith, baptism symbolizes our children joining us in the family of God. It makes us feel good, because it strengthens our bonds with each other. But what if baptism is more than that? What if it is more than strengthening bonds, or becoming a part of the Body of Christ? What if baptism is more like signing military enlistment papers just as a war is about to begin? If we can set aside our common understanding for just a moment, I think we’ll see that these “what ifs” are not so far fetched.

Mark tells us that John the Baptizer lived and preached in the wilderness near the Jordan River. John preached so powerfully that huge crowds, moved by his message, repented of their sin and were baptized. But why the Jordan? Why wash in the muddy Jordan when there were many others streams or even the Sea of Galilee that might have served just as well?

The answer lies in the importance of the Jordan in the history of the People of Israel. Centuries before the time of Jesus, the Jordan formed the Eastern boundary of the Promised Land. Under Joshua’s leadership the people moved across the Jordan and moved into the future God had prepared. This crossing of the Jordan marked the beginning of the conquest of Palestine and the starting point of the Kingdom of God.

Throughout the centuries, the people retold stories of crossing the Jordan River and entering the Promised Land. In some ways it was Israel’s finest hour and the time when God seemed most near to the people. Not surprisingly, the people yearned to experience God’s blessings again. They hungered for renewal in their personal lives, and certainly in their national life as well. Over the years, many believers returned to the Jordan in a faithful remembering, to re-enact the moment when their ancestors first moved into the land which God promised them. These mini-dramas were like prayers of hope.

And so it was that John called people into the wilderness of the Jordan, to a re-enactment of the ancient story and to the possibility of living once more as People of the Promise of God. It was a time of renewal, of cleansing, and of claiming God’s promises. The newly baptized and renewed people went back into their communities intent on reclaiming the Promised Land from Rome. Their ancestors took the land from the Canaanites. Under the power of Baptism, the believers would take the land from Rome. So baptism became a dangerous symbol of resistance which set believers apart.

And so it was that Jesus went to the Jordan to be baptized by John. While he did not need forgiveness, his baptism provided a living symbol of resistance. It helped the people believe in a new and better day. After his baptism, Jesus moved into the community, declaring the Kingdom of God, while others thought that they lived in the Kingdom of Rome.

The Bible tells us that as Jesus came up out of the water he saw the heavens opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him. And the voice of God confirmed Jesus’ special status, “You are my beloved Son, in whom I and well pleased.” In Mark’s gospel this baptism seems to be Jesus’ enlistment papers. From that moment on he lived conspicuously in opposition to existing power structures, so that by the end of his life, leaders of his own people hated him, Herod wanted to kill him, and Pilate was afraid of him. Clearly Jesus’ baptism set him apart from the power structures of his day. And I suggest that in our baptism we also live in opposition to the existing powers. We don’t have to confront people or wave a flag. All that we need to do is live differently and tell others why.

I struggled to find a way to illustrate what baptism should mean to us and then I remembered a story I read a few years ago about Jews who insisted on living in the City of Hebron. Hebron is a hotly contested City on the West Bank – in other words it is under Palestinian authority. Both Jews and Muslims claim the city rightfully belongs to them because tradition says that the patriarchs and matriarchs of the faith are buried there. About two hundred Jews lived there at the time the article was written, surrounded by a couple of hundred thousand Palestinian Muslims. These Jews stay there despite persecution and even death threats because their faith tells them to offer a Jewish presence in that place. They present an alternative way of looking at the world in a place that is clearly hostile to their witness.

This is the way our baptism into Christ calls us to live in the world. We offer an alternative to the way the others live. Our baptism should encourage and empower us to demonstrate the glory of God by being the opposition to the way things have always been done. Our baptism is a badge of honor which we need to wear bravely in a world that does not understand our values.

When we understand our baptism in this way – as enlistment papers
into the cause of Christ – we will one day hear the voice of God say, “You are my beloved child, with whom I am well pleased.”

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock

A Chosen Race A Royal Priesthood

Sermon Text for January 6, 2008
I Peter 2:1-10

Her insides were churning so violently that she was almost ill. But on the outside she appeared to be the epitome of the calm professional. That was the only part of herself that she allowed others to see. They must never be allowed to know how small and insecure that she felt most of the time.

“Why do they call it ‘butterflies’? she wondered. Then a ridiculous thought crossed her mind and made her laugh. Instead of butterflies in the stomach, her’s felt more like two walruses doing mortal battle.

“I’m not worthy” she thought. “Why in the world did they elect me. They should have asked someone whose faith is strong.” Then she remembered that she had never allowed others to see her vulnerable side. They didn’t know that sometimes she felt like a twelve year old girl at her first middle school dance.

And then it happened! The pastor – who always seemed so sure of himself – called her name. For better or worse, she was about to be ordained and installed as a ruling elder. Her knees felt like jelly as she walked forward. With every step she took she held on to the back of the pews so she could steady herself. No one must know how fearful she was.

Isn’t it amazing how insecure many of us feel, when we are called upon to do more than simply sit in the pew on Sunday morning? Most of us know exactly how this woman felt because we have been there. We might express the feeling differently, but we know the abject fear we feel whenever someone says, “God needs you.”

The problem at its root is one of identity. I know that we think we are too old to have an identity crisis. Adolescent rebellion is all about discovering who we are, and if we ever think about it, we are grateful that our own adolescence is long past. We can guess that the woman in the story is also well beyond adolescence, but nevertheless she is having an identity crisis. She doesn’t know or chooses to ignore who God says she is. It is too bad. Knowing the answer to the identity question, might have calmed her fears.

If you were in church on the Sunday before Christmas, I offered you a Christmas present and this is what I said. “You are a very special person. You are God’s art work, carefully and lovingly made.” It is too bad that the woman in our story didn’t know that. It would have made her trip down the center aisle a lot less fearful.

The communities to which Peter wrote were having an identity crisis. By accepting Christ the new believers lost almost everything that told them who they were. Suddenly the comfort they once received in relationships with friends and relatives simply disintegrated. And without these relationships many lost even the ability to feed their families.

In those days most trade took place through gilds – the first century equivalent of a union. Those who belonged to a guild were required to vow allegiance to the guild’s god. And when the Christians refused they were expelled from the guild. Without the guild a large part of their identities simply evaporated.

If we listen between the lines of our scripture lesson we might hear an inner conversation that sounds something like this: “I used to belong to the gild and now I don’t. So who am I now? I used to be part of my father’s family but the family has rejected me. To them I am as good as dead. So who am I now? I used to be part of a social club, but I am no longer welcome. Who am I now?”

It was obvious to the new believers how much they lost, but what did they gain? Peter answered the question this way: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people… Once you were no people, now you are God’s people.” God transforms believers so that no matter who we once were, now we are someone else. And by the grace of God we are still becoming. The most obvious difference between who we were and who we are, is that in Christ Jesus God CHOSE US. I Peter says that we are “a CHOSEN race”. We have been ordained by our baptism to join brothers and sisters in a “royal priesthood”. Those whom God chooses, God also equips for the work of ministry.

In a few minutes we will ordain and install elders and deacons. It is a safe bet that someone is terrified by the new role he or she will play. Someone’s little inner voice is screaming, “I am not worthy! How did I get talked into this?” If that is you listen very carefully. You are CHOSEN by God, a part of the chosen race.” God chose you, God has already ordained you and made you a part of a “royal priesthood a holy nation.” Those whom God calls God equips.

This message is for each of us. A few serve as elders or deacons, but each of us is CHOSEN and equipped for ministry. You don’t have to believe me, but you should believe God. “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.” Thanks be to God. Amen.

Copyright © 2008 by Dwight R. Blackstock