Sunday, March 08, 2009

...Before the Dawn

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday March 8, 2009, the 2nd Sunday in Lent.

Because of the car malfunction described here, the manuscript of this sermon was not put to paper before Sunday worship. This is a transcript rather than a manuscript. It is choppier than one of my usual sermons, but whether that's good or bad is between you and the Holy Spirit.

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
Psalm 22:23-31
Romans 4:13-25
Mark 8:31-38
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Those words from the nineteenth psalm have a little special meaning for me this morning and I hope they have a little more special meaning for you this morning; because for better or for worse, you have never heard me from this pulpit without a manuscript. Today I’m not exactly winging it, but let’s just say that I got detoured along the way.

We all know what a detour is, when you’re going someplace, going down the highway and suddenly because of something that happened probably completely out of your control you’re diverted down a completely different road to a new set of experiences and you know it’s not the main road. They never ever detour you to the main road, do they? But eventually you get back onto the path of the detour.

Last night at about three in the afternoon, I hit the detour. When I was leaving Little Rock yesterday afternoon, the car’s tachometer quit working. Well, the last time that happened was because the alternator was giving out, the battery was completely drained, every light on the dashboard was on and then off, every gauge in the car quit working, and was dead. I got to Conway where I needed to get some gas, and frankly, I wanted to take a look. I left the engine running, I popped open the hood and saw smoke coming off of the engine block. You know, that just wasn’t the idea of the party I was expecting to have last night.

So I took the car and I drove, if you know the Conway exit from I-40 to highway 65 going north, there is a Shell station, where I did all of this. Well, I ran the car downhill to the Cracker Barrel restaurant and pulled in there because they have a lovely back corner that no one cares if you park there.

Well, you gotta tell the manager first, that’s all there is to that, you gotta tell the manager.

So, I’m sitting in Conway, the car, if it’s not dead yet, I’m worrying that it might die somewhere between Conway and Harrison; and let me ask you, what kind of a good idea is that? It’s one thing to have the car dying where you have cell phone coverage and another thing going out where you’re really out of control.

And it was dark for me. I had been in Little Rock since Thursday, doing a workshop put on by the Presbytery’s committee on congregational care and development, busy around here all week long so that as Kenny noticed and Wayne noticed, the bibles and the hymnals didn’t get changed. None of those nice little tabs I put in there for the worship leaders to follow were there. Everyone else got a nice little detour along the way there too. And so I just didn’t get everything done, including the work I was going to do on this sermon; which by the way included a completely different introduction.

And it was dark to me. I had no idea what was going to happen next. I got on the phone and I was upset. I called Marie, who got in touch with Bill and Lucille, who got us taken care of. But in the meantime, I’m sitting on my tail under a lamppost, next to the care, behind the Cracker Barrel Restaurant at I-40 and US 65 in Conway, and what’s there to do but wait?

It was dark and I was waiting for the dawn, and there was really nothing I could do but wait. What else was there? I got in touch with the Hyundai dealer so I figured out how to get the key dropped off and how to get everything taken care of, so now I’m sitting there and I’m worrying about everything. Is Marie okay? Is this going to be all right? What’s going on? And in my head I was just all over the place.

Anyway, in the scene immediately preceding our gospel reading, that’s the scene where Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed, the one who is set aside, the Christ. Peter has just proclaimed that Jesus is the Christ. And so Jesus tells the disciples one of the things that it means to be the Christ is suffering. Pain, death, torture; death by crucifixion is horrid. Because you don’t die by blood loss, the pain doesn’t kill you. What happens is by being stretched out, it’s impossible to get a breath. It’s impossible to breathe well. Lungs begin to fill with fluid. At the same time, in the hot Judean sun, you suffer from dehydration you suffer from heat exhaustion, sunstroke and eventually die in the most horrible, socially unacceptable way imagined.

And Peter says, this cannot be, Lord. I just said you are the Messiah, the Christ; and you agreed with me. you are the Messiah, the Christ and now you’re trying to tell me that you’re going to suffer and die? No. No, that cannot be Lord. And then Peter hears the words that none of us ever wants to hear from the man he had just called Messiah, he says Satan get behind me. Your mind isn’t on the big picture. Your mind isn’t on the kingdom. Your mind is on your idea of what it means for me to be the Messiah and you to be the disciple. Put that out of your mind because what you’re thinking is not what it’s going to look like.

Jesus knew, Jesus told them, and when Peter asked “Are you sure about that?” Jesus said, “Oh my yes, and if you don’t believe me then your mind is not on the thoughts of the kingdom. You’re not discerning the word of God. You’re discerning your opinion of what the Messiah should be.”

Jesus tells us to keep our eye on what’s heavenly, on the work of the kingdom, of what follows next. And Jesus teaches us that it’s dark. Jesus teaches us that it is painful, Jesus teaches us that it is socially unacceptable; that God is going to be seen as a criminal. And that’s the way of the kingdom. That’s the way of the kingdom.

But with the darkness, through the darkness, after the darkness, comes the dawn. We know what the darkness looks like. It’s borne on the cross. And we know what the dawn looks like too, through the resurrection and the life, the coming of Jesus in triumph. Not as one who is to be served, but as one who serves.

We all have darkness in our lives. We all have darkness in our lives. Right now, I’ve got a car 140 miles away that I have no idea what’s going to happen with next. The session has recently been looking at the budget woes being faced by this part of the body of Christ. And we have recognized that there is a darkness there.

It’s dark, but I am going to promise you two things. First of all is that the light comes. The light comes. In the name of Jesus Christ in the person of the resurrection, the light comes. And when it comes it comes with redemption.

But there’s a warning that needs to come with this. It is the warning of Peter. What our idea of redemption is going to look like man not be what God’s idea of redemption will be. This is what Peter learned. He wanted a political messiah, he wanted someone who will ride the white horse into Jerusalem and take over, take over the kingdom of Israel. Instead what he got was the messiah who rode in on a colt to not only become king of Israel but to be king of all creation.
What happened to Jesus was horrible. But what happens with us through that is redemption. And by this redemption God’s glory is known in our lives and in our world.

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