Light

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday December 25, 2011, Nativity of the Lord Sunday. Merry Christmas.

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Isaiah 52:7-10

Psalm 98

Hebrews 1:1-4

John 1:1-14

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen

I was up early this morning, before the sun rose. Of course that’s pretty easy to do on the fourth day of winter. Seeing the sun rise through the clouds reminds me of something special about the light, the light overcomes the dark.

This morning, the first light of sun begin to make its way across the horizon, sending off an ember like glow rather than streaking rays of brilliance. Soon though, more and more light began to cut through the clouds announcing the coming of the sun like the herald angels singing. Yes, dank dreary days like today can mute the power of the sun to the point that the street lights come on, but the sun will not be blocked forever. On that day, when the sun rises, the golden orb ascends the plain to announce the new day with resounding power and light.

Ultimately the light penetrates even the densest clouds. Our sun is 93 million miles away from us, and its heat and light announce new life on earth every day.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”[1]

When John writes “In the beginning” his words take us back to the first word of scripture. John’s words take us back to before the beginning, before any of what we know and imagine was begun. He writes of a time when all there was of our world was yet to be spoken. He writes of a time when the heavenly host is all there was. He writes of a time before this creation when the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit existed three-in-one. He writes of a time before the God’s own self, the Blessed Trinity created the likes of us.

Today John writes of that beginning all over again. John reminds us Jesus was with God in the beginning. And as God and with God all things were made through him. Nothing that was or ever has been made was made without him.

In him is the life and that life was then and is now the light of men. Truly, his life is not just the light of men but of all creation. On this Christmas Day, we testify.

How beautiful on the mountains

are the feet of those who bring good news,

who proclaim peace,

who bring good tidings,

who proclaim salvation,

who say to Zion,

 “Your God reigns!”

We hear the Good News all creation longs to hear, longs to believe. The Good News that Christ is born is the Good News. The prophet Isaiah tells us those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation who say “Your God reigns!” upon the mountains have beautiful feet.

To have beautiful feet. Beautiful feet aren’t necessarily pretty feet. It isn’t a salon pedicure that makes feet beautiful; it is the word the feet carry. When sharing the word of God Incarnate on this Christmas Day, testifying as a witness to the birth of the Lord in the flesh, this is the source of beautiful feet. The beauty of our feet isn’t in their being, it’s in their bearing.

As we heard in our reading from Hebrews, God has spoken to us by his son whom he has appointed. God has chosen to come among us and walk as we walk, hope as we hope, and pray as we pray. The joy of this message makes our feet beautiful. Fully human and fully divine, Jesus came as a babe, swaddled by his mother and laid in an animal’s feed trough.

He comes with human feet and it is the holy message of the life carried by these feet Isaiah first prophesied. By our feet we continue to testify too, this is the source of beauty, grace, and peace of our feet. How beautiful are the feet that of those who bring the Good News of Christ the Savior.

Isaiah then tells us that the Lord has laid bare his holy arm in the sight of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth will see the salvation of our God. Yet John tells us that the world did not recognize him. The world sees but does not recognize the light, even as it breaks through the horizons of life on this earth to shine. The light overcomes the darkness, but the darkness doesn’t even recognize that it has been overcome.

John testifies the Good News wasn’t obvious when this gospel was written. John’s gospel tells us that though the world came into being through Jesus, the world did not recognize him. He came to his own people, and his own people did not accept him. Those who saw the Christ, the Messiah did not know who he was.

When looking over this sermon, I don’t think I have done anything special. I haven’t given you a detailed parsing of the language, neither Hebrew, nor Greek, nor English. I haven’t blessed you with quotes from historians or theologians either. There is one reason for this; I don’t think it’s necessary. The grace and peace of these words carry a weight that if I tried to add “insight” would come up and rap me in the jaw.

Instead, this is all I want to share with you on this Christmas morning: Today Christ the Savior is born! The Good News of our salvation is that God came as the weakest of all, a babe born to a maiden; it is not just this humble beginning but from this humble beginning that all creation is made and all creation is redeemed. This is what we believe. This is the greatest gift we can share with one another and with the world. The world may not recognize it, but that does not make the Truth less true. Today we celebrate the birth of our savior.

My father was a photographer, and when I was growing up he had a dark room set up in a downstairs room. This room was between the laundry room, the garage, and the family room. It was a busy area. So whenever he needed to use his developing equipment, he was justifiably paranoid that someone would come downstairs and flip the wrong light switch, ruining his work. He would also have towels under the doors so that the light would not pour into the room from under the doors. It would not take much light to ruin a hard day’s work. 

That is where I first learned the lesson that light penetrates the darkness. Even just a little from under the bottom of a door is enough to lighten a room.

John writes that Jesus is the true light, the light which enlightens everyone.  And with John we testify that the light has come into the world.  The light became flesh.  And we testify today is the day of our fair savior’s birth. 

We are to lift up, to exalt the one who is the Word and the light, the true light which enlightens us, the one who came and comes into the world.  It is when we spread the good news through acts of kindness, and grace, and peace that we shine the light of God.  A light that we cannot create, a light which is reflected by us.

In Miracles, C. S. Lewis has this to say about light:  “We believe that the sun is in the sky at midday in summer not because we can clearly see the sun (in fact, we cannot) but because we can see everything else.”[2]  We believe that the Christ is the true light, very light of very light, very God of very God,[3] and because of this light, we can see the world that he created.  And when we reflect this light, it is not we who become visible, it is our Lord.  Through peace, and good news, and salvation we are able to see Christ in the world.  It is our duty to reflect this light so that our Lord may be seen in all that we are and all that we do.

---

[1] John 1:1-4

[2] Lewis, C. S., Miracles.  Found in A Year with C. S. Lewis, Dec. 23 entry

[3] Nicene Creed

Lessons and Carols 2011

This service was celebrated at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall Texas on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2011.

The Presbyterian Church Book of Common Worship does not have a version of this service. Since there are many different versions, I compared several different services and selected these passages and songs for the service. Since 2007 the service has continued to evolve with new looks at the service and the music with the input of new worship leaders. This year's service was revised with the assistance of First Presbyterian-Marshall's Music Director Al Key.

Anyone who would like to use this service is welcome, the prayers come from the Presbyterian Church Book of Common Worship or are things I have picked up from other pastors through the years. The homily is a personal composition. I welcome anyone considering using this service to do as I did, find several, compare, and see where the theology of the service takes you, then arrange your own.

Music this year was led by Elder Al Key and our organist/pianist Mrs. Georgia Dyer. Marie Andresen played the postlude on harp.

Prelude

Welcome

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,
the love of God,
and the communion of the Holy Spirit
be with you all.

Good evening and welcome to this very special worship service of Lessons and Carols. All who come in the name of the Lord are welcome on this special, special evening.

Let us begin with the lighting of the Advent Candles...We light this candle as a sign of the coming light of Christ.

Advent means coming.
We are preparing ourselves for the days
when the nations shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoice with joy and singing.

The Lord will give you a sign.
Look, the young woman is with child
and shall bear a son,
and shall name him Immanuel (God is with us).

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness,
on them light has shined.

Let us walk in the light of the Lord.

Call to Worship
Pastor: The Lord be with you.
People: And also with you.

Let us pray...Holy Child, born of Mary in a barn, you identify with us in object humanity. You move among us with announcements of Good News when things look bleak; you give us a star on dark, lonely nights. Sing to us once more that, assured of your presence among us, we may forget our fear and embrace your gift of newborn life, to the glory of your holy name we pray. Amen.

Prayer of Illumination

O Lord our God,
your Word is a lamp to our feet
and a light to our path.
Give us grace to receive your truth in faith and love,
the story of the coming of your son Jesus Christ,
that we may be obedient to your will
and live always for your glory;
by his birth in Bethlehem and his death on Calvary,
We pray in His holy name. Amen.

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Homily--The Story--Rev. Paul Andresen

It is customary that when the word of God is read in Christian churches, it is followed by interpretation. Usually this is done through a message from the pastor. Sometimes it is done in drama or even in dance.

Tonight, we do something special. Tonight, we interpret the written word of God through song.

The Presbyterian Church (USA) Directory for Worship tells us “Song is a response which engages the whole self in prayer. Song unites the faithful in common prayer wherever they gather for worship whether in church, home, or other special place.”

So tonight, in this holy place, we will hear the story of the birth of our Lord told in Lessons and Carols.

Let us hear the word of God and let us respond in prayer and in song.

Isaiah 9:2, 6-7
Hymn: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Isaiah 11:1-4a, 6-9
Hymn: O Little Town of Bethlehem

Micah 5:2-5a
Hymn: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Luke 1:26-35, 38
Hymn: Angels, from the Realms of Glory

Luke 2:1-7
Hymn: Come Thou, Long Expected Jesus

Luke 2:8-20
Hymn: Angels We Have Heard On High

Luke 2:21-33
Hymn: What Child Is This?

Matthew 2:1-11
Hymn: O Come, All Ye Faithful

The passing of the Light of Christ.

John 1:1-14
Hymn: Silent Night, Holy Night

Charge and Benediction

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
As we celebrate His birth,
Let us celebrate new life in Him.

And may the blessing of triune God almighty,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
remain with you always.
Amen.

Hymn: Joy to the World!

Postlude: Joy to the World!

This Old House

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday December 18, 2011, the 4th Sunday in Advent.

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2 Samuel 7:1-17

Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26

Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen

Today as in the ancient of days, there are two ways of looking at the word “house.” One way is as a building, the place we call home that has most of our stuff. But there is another that is more important historically, the house as a family, a clan, a people. If you are looking for a modern way of looking at houses as family, the English Monarchy is worth consideration.

 Since 1901, the British monarchy has been led by the House of Windsor. The first member of the House of Windsor to ascend to the throne was King Edward VII. The Son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, his reign marked the end of the House of Hanover, Victoria’s family name, and brought on the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Albert’s family name. Edward’s son George V changed the family name to Windsor in light of anti-German sentiment at the onset of World War I.

Today the House of Windsor is led by Queen Elizabeth II. In a bit of anti-German sentiment at the onset of World War II, Elizabeth’s husband Phillip Battenberg from the House of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg adopted the Anglicized name Mountbatten so today the descendants of Elizabeth II who do not have royal title carry the last name Mountbatten-Windsor.

This family is the current ruling house of the United Kingdom. While there are no real governmental duties accorded the Queen, there is still a mystique about the royals which accords them a place in the nation. Not so long ago, this was not true. Not so long ago there was power in the monarchy that had not been contested since the Sixth Century when the first kings of England were rooted in the monarchs of House of Mercia. Many houses, but one land.

By the time of our reading in 2Samuel, King David must have had a sense of accomplishment. I’m not saying that he was full of himself, but by the generous blessings of the Lord God he had done many tremendous things in his short life. While a young man, the youngest son of eight, Samuel anointed him King in preparation for the day when he would assume that mantle.[1]

Later in 1Samuel David is described as being “skillful in playing [the lyre], a man of valor, a warrior, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence.” The man who shared these good words with King Saul added “and the LORD is with him.”[2]

I don’t have to tell you of the story of how while still a young man, not yet a king, David would slay the Philistine Goliath of Gath using a sling and a stone. To wed Saul’s daughter Michal, David defied death and presented proof of the slaughter of 100 Philistines in battle. When Saul tried to kill David, he spared Saul’s life and proved to him that he was loyal to his king not once, but twice.

After becoming King of Judah, David’s great success blossomed further. He defeated his enemies. He reunited the divided kingdoms of Israel and Judah. David established the capital of the united kingdom at Jerusalem and after repelling the Philistines yet again he returned the Ark of the Covenant, the very dwelling place of God on Earth, to the capital city. As the Lord directed, David constructed a grand palace of cedar. David defeated all of his enemies, united the people of Judah and Israel, and his Lord and continued to bless him.

In 2Samuel we read the words of the Lord, “I took you from the pasture, from tending the flock, and appointed you ruler over my people Israel. I have been with you wherever you have gone, and I have cut off all your enemies from before you.” These, and many others, are the exploits the Lord brings to light.

This is just the beginning of the House of David. There will be many more successes. In this beginning of our reading, David begins to wonder what comes next for his house, his rule. His wonders begin with the fact that his house is a luxurious palace and the house of the Lord is a tent. His servant Nathan tells David to do what he pleases because the Lord is with him. (That pretty much sounds like something a servant would say, doesn’t it?)

Well, as we read the Lord isn’t seeking better accommodations. David is the last person the Lord needs to give him a hotel upgrade. The Lord has lived in tents and tabernacles so far and so far so good. The Lord doesn’t want David to make him a house, the Lord has selected David and the Lord will as the prophecy says, “make him a great house.”

Speaking about Solomon, the son who will be king after David’s death, the prophecy reveals, “He is the one who will build a house for my Name.” The Lord’s prophecy concludes, “Your house and your kingdom will endure forever before me; your throne will be established forever.”

So Solomon will build a house for the Lord. Solomon will build a grand temple. But first, the Lord will build the house, the Kingdom of David. The Lord does not promise the temple will stand forever, but David’s kingdom will be established forever.

One of the amazing truths of the faith is that the house the Lord builds to fulfill this prophecy is a young woman named Mary.

As for Mary, on the whole, we Protestants don’t really know what to do with her. Mary bore God into the world. How’s that for a concept? She bore God. It’s too big for me to get my head around. Jesus is coming, Advent means coming, and the virgin’s womb is where Jesus is coming from.

Ultimately, there is very little I can tell you about Mary. I can tell you that she was a particular person, the one and only. When we talk about the Virgin Mary, Mary the Mother of Jesus, we know who we are talking about.

We do know that she is a young woman. Frankly though, calling her a woman is a stretch. She was old enough to be married, but at the time the age of marriage for a girl was as young as ten. Mary was probably no older than twelve or maybe thirteen. 

The next thing we know about Mary comes from her relationship to Joseph. Mary and Joseph were betrothed to one another. Being betrothed is more than being engaged, but not quite the same as being married. Joseph had paid the dowry to Mary’s family. If Joseph had died Mary would have been considered a widow. But they had not had their wedding banquet yet. And of course, their marriage wasn’t consummated. So all things considered, Mary was a normal, common young woman.   

In this time, she was no different than hundreds or thousands of other young women. Presumably, she was getting her final instructions on how to be a good wife from her mother. She had learned how to keep house and raise children. If she was truly thirteen years old, there might be some relief in the house that she was not going to be an old maid. 

She was one of any number of marriage age girls in Palestine; in this way I can tell you that she was nobody special. If those words have sent you reeling, I don’t blame you. I’m having more than a little trouble with how to say this. But Mary, Mary is nobody special. She’s common, she’s ordinary, and she’s selected: and this is the good news. That’s what makes her special.

God uses the most mundane of us all to come into the world. 

Let me say that again, God uses the most mundane of us all to come into the world. 

Pardon me for saying it this way, but she’s just a girl. 

The only thing that is special about Mary is that the angel declared her that she is favored because the Lord is with her. She is not favored because of any thing she has done, or anything she will do. She is favored because God is with her. She is favored because of what God is doing with her and through her.

She had no idea what was happening, she was perplexed, troubled through and through. 

So what does the messenger say next, “Fear not!” (Now, who’s going to believe that?)  The angel calms her fears by telling her now, “you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 

Sound familiar? It should, it sounds an awful lot like the promise made to David. The house of David will find its eternal king coming from the house of a teenage girl’s womb.

Mary gives a great response here, allow me to paraphrase, “What, me? This cannot be happening, after all” she says, “I am a virgin.” But the angel tells her what will happen. 

For Mary, the Spirit of God is coming to overshadow her. Overshadow is a very powerful verb. Overshadow literally means to block the light. Literally, the power of God will cover her like the moon eclipses the sun. The power of God will overshadow her and her son will be holy; and from this she will bear God into the world.

So here we are, in this house, this House of the Lord. Researching this sermon I found an old joke. A little boy was told that the church was the house of God. He went Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. Finally, one Sunday he said, “When is God going to move in?”[3] From the mouths of babes comes the wisdom of the ages.

Another way to ask when God is going to move in is like this:

“Are we willing to allow the Lord God to shape our lives in ways we never expected, wanted, or imagined?” Are we willing to say to the messenger “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Are we willing to allow the plans of our lives to be interrupted for the messenger from the Lord?  Mary said yes. Only by saying yes does Mary make a difference. Because of this yes, Mary’s song is heard and revered.

What is God asking us to do? As the Body of Christ in the House of the Lord, what is our call, our vocation? Are we willing to let God upset the apple cart of our life together? How do we respond when our plans to build the Lord a fine house are nixed? How do we respond when the Lord says we will be made a fine house instead?

Don’t worry about asking these questions, as Mary discovered asking God is fine. Asking questions is not bad, not listening to the answers is. The Lord will not put us into places we do not belong. The story of David shows that the Lord has plans for us. The story of the annunciation shows that the Lord supports those who respond to God’s call with encouragement and power.

This Old House is the glorious House of the Lord. As Christians we are members of that house. The House of David lays one of the foundational stones of the Kingdom of God. Mary the mother of Jesus is the house where the Lord Jesus is first fed and nurtured. We are physically in the house of the Lord and as the children of God we are members of the House of God.

It is said that history is made by people who show up. By showing up, by saying yes, Mary not only made history, but by the fruit of her womb she made the future. The question we are asked today and always is, “How do we respond for the Kingdom of God in the House of the Lord?” By willingly, voluntarily participating in the joy of creation, Mary brings into the world the one of power and majesty, the one who sits on David’s throne forever. 

This is our lesson for today; none of us are any more or less special than Mary.  Mary was called to be the one who brought God, birthed God into human existence.  She was perplexed, she had questions, the only answer she got is God is with you, and she said “Here I am.” Jesus has come. Jesus is here now. Jesus will come again. Advent means coming. Will we say yes when he asks if we are coming too?

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[1] 1Samuel 16:1-13

[2] 1Samuel 16:18

[3] HomileticsOnline.com, http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustration_search.asp?keywords=%22House+of+God%22&imageField2.x=0&imageField2.y=0, retrieved December 17, 2011.

Who John Is, Who I Am, Who We Are

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday December 11, 2011, the 3rd Sunday in Advent.

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Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Psalm 126

1Thessalonians 5:16-24

John 1:6-8, 19-28

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen

European cathedrals are some of the greatest pieces of architecture the world has ever known. These grand structures served many functions, more than what we think of when we think of the church. They were part worship center, part social place, and even part government center. Grand and majestic, you could see their splendor from a distance. Built upon hilltops their domes and spires met the pilgrim as if to say “welcome home my good and faithful child.”

Their interiors are just as breathtaking. All I have to do is mention the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and we can imagine what most of us have only seen in pictures. We can all imagine the wondrous works of Michelangelo giving their glory to God Almighty. From the iconic image of God giving Adam life to the prophets and the saints, since its creation during the renaissance the Sistine Chapel has been known as one of the greatest achievements in all of art.

Reading a book about preaching,[1] I learned about a painting behind the altar at the convent of the Antonites in Colmar. The Easter section of the painting features Christ stretched out on the cross, and alongside him Mary the mother of Jesus in the arms of the Apostle John and Mary Magdalene kneeling at his feet. There is also a small lamb holding another cross with the cup beneath its breast. Off to the side of this scene is John the Baptist, dressed in camel hair tied with a leather belt, holding scripture and pointing to Jesus. This is an apt image of the Baptist, the one who points to Christ. This, the author writes, is the essence of preaching: Pointing to Christ.

There is a simplicity in this reading from John’s gospel. John’s is often referred to as the most spiritual of the gospels. There are many miracles and signs found reading John’s gospel that we just don’t find in the others, but this reading isn’t miraculous, nor is it spiritual, it’s just plain and simple.

The scribes ask John who he is. While the New International Version isn’t so forward, many other translations are. The priests and Levites came from Jerusalem to ask John “Who are you?”

John begins by telling them who he isn’t. He isn’t the Christ, he isn’t Elijah, and he isn’t the prophet. (By the way, this vaguely named prophet is probably the prophet from Deuteronomy 18; the prophet who will be raised up from among the Israelites who will speak the Lord’s words.) He doesn’t identify with any of these holy references because these references all have messianic expectations and John has no personal messiah complex. Instead he identifies himself with the words of Isaiah. He is the one calling in the desert “Make straight the way for the Lord.”

This is who John is. John isn’t Jesus. John points to Jesus.

Social media has allowed us to share our lives with the rest of the world on unprecedented levels. One of the ways I connect with friends and colleagues is using a platform called Twitter. What separates Twitter from other social media sites is that it limits messages to 140 typed characters. Letters, numbers, spaces, punctuation—if you can say it in 140 characters you can say it on Twitter.

Twitter encourages you to describe yourself to the world, again using only a few characters. I describe myself saying, “Child of God, Husband of Marie, Teller of Tales, Fortunate Son.” I know that this isn’t a fleshed out description, but I also figure it’s not bad for 62 characters including spaces.

I am Marie’s husband, this week with Toni (Marie’s mother) visiting that role has been very important.

My entire family is known for stories and story telling so telling tales is one of the ways I describe myself. My older sister occasionally finds people who know my grandmother’s family from California, Missouri. One woman when discovering the family connection said, “So you’re one of those #$&! Hert’s. Well, it’s true and for better or worse I am one of those #$&! Hert’s. We have tales to tell and are willing to tell them.

The church, the denomination, calls me a Teaching Elder. This title has been recently been reclaimed by the church for what we used to call Ministers of the Word and Sacrament. There are many hats worn by pastors, but the one which I am perhaps best equipped to wear is this one, teaching, sharing the word of God with the people of God. When I look at who I am, when I look at what my role is, I move toward the image of John—I point to Christ.

This is important to me. When I talk too much about the denomination I suffer from navel-gazing. When I talk too much about myself I inflict a cult-of-personality on you, which is neither what you deserve nor what God expects. Some of this is necessary, because ministry is always carried out in the context of the community and its people; but if it is not first about God then it is about what Ecclesiastes calls vanity.

Today I began by talking about the great cathedrals of European because one of the pities of the church is that many of these great churches are little more than just buildings today. There is a history of worship and service that has been lost in the thousands of years since the death and resurrection. Many are simple tourist attractions that have little to do with their intended purpose. Christianity in Europe has been taking a beating over the past 100 years.

Where Christianity has thrived in Europe is in the countries we call the Eastern Bloc, the countries where Christianity and Christians were oppressed by the state. In those places the people needed the church; the people needed the community of Christ. In the more affluent places, places where the church seemed to be more of an add-on to life, it is declining.

This isn’t so surprising when you look at the heritage of the faith. In ancient Rome the Hebrews were troublemakers. The Christians were troublemaker’s troublemakers. One group was oppressed by the empire and the other was oppressed by the oppressed. This helps us look at who we are, who the church is today.

The Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow was the 218^th Moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s General Assembly. Bruce had what he considers the enviable position that the conservative arm of the church thought he was too liberal and the liberal arm of the church didn’t think he wasn’t as liberal as he should be given his position. He considered it an honor that nobody thought of him as “their standard bearer.”[2]

He recently wrote an article called “Dear God, I Would Like My Presbyterian Church (USA) Back.”[3] One of the things he does is articulate what the each of the extreme branches of the church thinks is wrong with the other. He notes that one branch of the church misses the “Father Knows Best” era of American Christianity and in particular the PC(USA) while the other misses the wildly progressive era of change that was a highlight in the 1960’s.

Bruce doesn’t poo-poo the anger that either group feels. He doesn’t brush away their feelings with platitudes. He acknowledges that the church is changing. The body we call the church, the denomination in particular, is changing.

What Bruce points out is that “The Good Ol’ Days” is a trap. The church we identify as “ours” has never been “ours.” The Church of Christ is just that, the Church of Christ. It’s God’s church, it’s not ours. And as long as the church complains and debates the quality of witness it doesn’t have a witness to Christ, but only to itself.

As the church we need to remember in the changing seas of life, some things remain steady. For us, for the church these things include the community bathed in the waters of our baptism. These things include the feeding of the community by the body and blood of Christ, symbolized by good gifts of the bread and cup of the Lord’s Supper celebrated together in what we call Holy Communion.

We are called to remember Christ came to save and serve the world and we serve Christ by helping with this mission. We don’t save, but we point to salvation. We point individually as the people of God and we point together as the church of Christ; just the way John did 2,000 years ago.

So this is who John is. This is who I am. This is who we are. We are the people who point to Christ. We point to Christ who is coming. Advent means coming. We don’t do this with messianic expectations of our own. We do this because Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus is the Christ. Today in a sermon preview, the children and youth pointed to Christ in drama and song. Let us take their words and point to Christ in our word and action too.

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[1] Willimon, William, “Conversations with Barth on Preaching.” Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2006

[2] Paraphrase from his introduction at a “Moderator Meets the Presbytery” event in Springfield, Missouri.

[3][3] Reyes-Chow, Bruce, “Dear God, I Would Like My Presbyterian Church (USA) Back” http://reyes-chow.com/2011/12/my-presbyterian-church/, retrieved December 9, 2011.

Green Light--Go!

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday December 4, 2011, the 2nd Sunday in Advent.

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Isaiah 40:1-11

Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13

2Peter 3:8-15a

Mark 1:1-8

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

All of the gospels begin with a certain majesty. Matthew’s gospel begins, “This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham” followed by forty generations of ancestors from Abraham to Jesus. This list includes the Father of the faith and the patriarchs. It includes judges and kings. It takes us into the exile and returns us to the Holy Land. There is a sweep and a majesty that takes us across the ages and history of the people of Israel and Judah.

Luke’s gospel begins with what could be considered not just an introduction but a mission statement. “Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. With this in mind, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.”

Luke reminds Theophilus then and us today he has heard plenty of stories. Theophilus has possibly heard the gospels of Mark and Matthew along with at least some other collected writings. But Luke, the good physician, collects the writings he knows and the stories he has heard and collects them for Theophilus to hear.

But in this very reading from Luke’s gospel there is something hidden from a modern reader. Since not many of us speak Koine Greek, most of us probably don’t know “theophilus” means “God lover.” So Theophilus may not be the proper name of a person. Instead Luke may have intended this gospel for all God lovers everywhere. Now that’s majestic.

John’s gospel doesn’t begin with a genealogy or a mission statement, it begins at the very beginning, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” So let’s give it up for John, it doesn’t get any more majestic than the very beginning.

Mark’s gospel, as majestic as it is, is comparatively Spartan, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” That’s it. Mark’s gospel doesn’t begin with history or fanfare. There is no glorious genealogy of the people of God. There’s no holy mission statement. There’s certainly no cosmic verity being cast into holy writ like stars into the skies. There’s not even a “this is.” Mark’s gospel simply starts “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” That’s it.

As far as introductions go, my second grade teacher Miss Bedene would have expected more, but what’s there is packed with glory and splendor. With this simple introduction, Mark follows with the words of the prophet Isaiah not to introduce the Lord, but the man who will introduce the Lord, John the Baptist.

One of the joys of reading scripture, becoming immersed in scripture, is that when the language of the Word opens it opens like a rosebud. The word that is once tightly packed and protected opens to reveal such great beauty. The splendor of the rose opens beyond the beauty of its features and expands into its scent and even the feel of the silky petals. So too the splendor of the Word begins with the most common of words in scripture and opens far beyond the simple sum of its parts.

You know that I love the original texts, and I pray I don’t beat you over the head with them. I don’t use them to show off, I use them to try to open the scripture and open us to new and glorious interpretations of the Word of God. This comes into play when we talk about the beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Many other translations of this verse don’t use the word “gospel,” rather they use the phrase “good news.”

As far as the Greek translation goes, it’s six of one, a half dozen of the other, both are suitable translations. The Greek word when taken apart literally means “good message.” In the history of interpretation the word is translated as both “good news” and “gospel,” so that’s no problem. But in our dialect of the English language, when we talk about “the gospel truth” it means truth beyond question, truth beyond the shadow of a doubt. Using the words “good news” instead just doesn’t pack the same punch for our ears. Let me agree, the gospel is the truth, and when we speak the full truth, there is more than simple words of truth.

The gospel, the good news is more than a collection of words bound and placed in our pew racks. Beyond a collection of good words, the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God is the living breathing gospel. The good news is a proclamation. The good news is the declaration of the life of Jesus. The good news is the declaration of our lives.

Last week I mentioned a scholar who believes the gospel of Mark is well served to be read in reverse. Under this instruction, we are reading the last three or four snippets of Mark’s gospel today. We read John prophesying the coming of the Lord, the one who he is not worthy to stoop down to serve, the one who will baptize with fire and the Holy Spirit. We meet John not only coming as in the prophecy of Isaiah, but coming in the clothes and fashion of Elijah. Then just as soon as we are introduced to the fulfillment of the prophecy, we hear the words of the prophet Isaiah himself declaring the messenger who comes to make straight the path of the Lord.

By this reading of the gospel, we are left with what we call the beginning of our reading, but this scholar calls the grand conclusion of Mark’s gospel, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ the Son of God.” If we decide to read it this way, our reading means something different. It’s certainly different from how we normally read this passage. It certainly is unsettling to read the gospel ending with the phrase “the beginning.”

Read this way, we prepare for the coming of the Lord in a brand new way. Advent means coming, but this coming is different. This coming is more like the one we heard about last week when we heard that this Advent, this Parousia; this coming is not just the coming of the baby on Christmas, but the final coming of the Christ in victory. The coming of this Advent is more than the coming of history; it is the coming of the future.

There’s an old children’s game called “Red Light/Green Light.” It starts with a person who is “stop light” the standing about fifteen feet from the other kids. The other kids go when they hear “green light” but have to stop when they hear “red light.” If they don’t stop, and if they get caught, they’re out of the game. The winner of the game is the first person to tag the “stop light.” The winner becomes “stop light” in the next round.

Reading the gospel and hearing “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God” is Mark’s way of telling the world the Lord has cried “green light.” We are supposed to go. It becomes our call to action. No longer is this a preamble to a reading, it becomes our charge, our vocation.

When we read “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God,” as the end of the gospel instead of the beginning, this passage becomes more than an introduction. It’s our summons to reach out to the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of Man. We are to reach out to the world with the love of God, the authority of the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. This is the source of the good news, the news we are to share and the gospel we are to live.

It is our call to Christ’s new beginning, to be opened like a rosebud by the flower of the word. It is our call to not only let the world see the vivid color and beauty of the bloom. It is also our call to be a joy to our God and God’s good creation spreading the sweet smell of Christ where we live and breathe.

What comes next, what follows is the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God. This is the life we are to live. Two-thousand years after the birth of our Lord and Savior we are called to continue beginning the work he started. What comes through the lives of all Christians in every time and place is the beginning of God’s good news. What follows, what comes next; the life that we live, that too is the gospel.

The way we share the good news of Jesus the Christ is with our hands, with our hearts, and with our voice. This is our charge, our call, our vocation. This is only the beginning. This is the gospel truth and this is the good news. This is what coming means for us. This is Advent. Advent means coming. Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

Living into the Comma

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 27, 2011, the 1st Sunday in Advent.

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Isaiah 64:1-9

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

1 Corinthians 1:3-9

Mark 13:24-27

Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, and as we just heard, Advent means coming. This is the season when we prepare for the coming of the Lord Jesus into the world. In this month we will celebrate the breaking of the fully divine God of all creation into the weakest of all human forms, a baby born to a single mother in Roman-occupied Judea. We celebrate the Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords, coming in the most humble of ways. But our Gospel reading doesn’t really point to this coming, it points to another coming.

Advent is from the Latin word for coming, but there is another word that is used for the coming of the Christ, parousia. Parousia is from the Greek word for coming. Because of its appearance in John’s Revelation,[1] it is most often used when describing not the first coming but what we call the second coming of the Lord. Since it is Jesus himself who describes the coming of the Lord in this gospel reading, it makes sense that he is describing not the first, but the second coming of the Lord.

This coming is the source of our Christian hope.

Our hope is not that “things” will come to pass. Yes, Jesus tells us to learn the lessons of the fig tree. He teaches us that we know the signs of the times. We should know what is happening. But this, this knowledge and ability to interpret the signs are not our hope. Our hope is not in what is coming but who is coming.

We do not place our faith in events or in things. We don’t place our faith in stuff or the structures we build; we place our faith in Christ. By the power of the Holy Spirit we place our faith in Christ.

This faith we have is not in some God we do not know. As well as we can know on this side of glory, we worship the God in Christ we know. This is the Christ who came to minister to sinners and to the poor. This is the Christ who defended the widow and orphan and traveler. This is the Christ who opens the kingdom of God to all who come. This is the Christ who came to heal the sick, not rub elbows with the elite. This is the God in Christ who ministers to humanity not despite our sinful nature but because we are his children, the children of God. This is the God who sent his Spirit to be with us, to indwell us, to walk beside us, to give us strength and support until he comes again.

This faith we have is not that the kingdom of God has fully come. Our faith is that we see as Paul said through a mirror darkly. We have seen God’s peace and justice at work, but we know that until he comes again we will not know this peace and justice fully. I have described this as “now and not yet.”

Christ has come, and when he came he emptied himself of his Godly status, becoming subject to the principalities of this life. He became subject to death, even death upon the cross, but Christ conquered death. He allowed himself to be subjected to death so that he could defeat death. He became subject to human justice so that he could bring his perfect justice. Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Yet despite this victory in Christ, a truth we know has happened, we know that it is not fully realized in this world. We know death is defeated, yet we face the death of our bodies and our values in a dozen little ways every day. Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Still we continue to fight the battles Christ has won every day. The victory is won and the battle continues.

When we celebrate Advent we celebrate the coming of the Christ child, the baby Jesus. Today, today when we share this gospel reading we celebrate the Second Advent, the Parousia, the final coming in victory. Yes, we celebrate.

With this coming, with this coming in power, glory, peace, and justice, we do not ponder whether or not this will happen. The greatest hope we have is not if these promises will be fulfilled, but when. We are told that God’s word in Christ by the power of the Spirit will never pass away. We are told that this prophecy will come to pass. Our greatest Christian hope is that this will happen. True, we are not given an indication of when this will happen, but we are promised that it will.

Last week while talking about the sheep and the goats[2] I said, “It’s not up to us to decide who will be saved and who will not because Christ the King makes that decision.” In the same way, none of us knows when Christ will return. The son himself doesn’t even know, but we are not left to wonder if Jesus will come again, we are told he will. In the same breath we are told that he will, but not when. Last week I said “Taking time and energy [to decide who will be saved and who will not] ultimately distracts us doing what we are called to do.” In the same way, wondering when he will return also distracts us doing what we are called to do.

So we are warned to be on guard, to be alert. Like the old church sign says, “Scripture doesn’t say get ready, it says be ready.” Scripture teaches us to keep watch.

One New Testament scholar, a man whose main focus is the gospel of Mark,[3] believes that this gospel should be read backward. Story by story, it should be read from the end to the beginning, from the Resurrection to John the Baptist’s preparations for the coming. Our readings this Advent season reflect this. This week we read from a prophecy of the second coming. Over the next three weeks, we will read from the beginnings of Mark then John then Luke.

This reading shows us that Advent is a time of waiting. It’s a time of preparation. It is the time between when Jesus came and when he comes again. Our readings for Advent reflect this promise, and it reflects them in reverse. We start with the second coming this week and go to the first coming for the rest of Advent.

Last week Marie and I went to the cemetery and visited the mausoleum where Joe McDonald was laid to rest a couple of weeks ago. While I was there I recalled the wonderful stories about Joe’s life. I remember seeing everyone at the funeral home and here for the service. I remember seeing the tributes along with the pictures and scrapbooks. Standing at the wall I remembered the wonderful celebration of Joe’s life as we bore witness to the resurrection. (Service of Witness to the Resurrection is technically what Presbyterians call a funeral service.) There, at that wall, I gave thanks for the witness of his life and the promise of the resurrection.

As all of these glorious thoughts crossed my mind, one thing got stuck. Unless you knew Joe, or any of the saints whose names adorn the stones in the cemetery, all that you would know of their lives is summed up in a dash. Of the hundreds of people, family members, loved ones, and revered citizens whose last resting place is in Colonial Gardens cemetery; unless you know them from local history or in person, their life is summed up in a simple dash, a hyphen. That’s heavy lifting for a little hyphen.

One of the things we did in worship this morning is state what we believe using the words of the Apostles’ Creed. It wasn’t written by the Apostles’, but there is a historical element of the twelve in the creed. When it was written, it was envisioned that each of the twelve wrote one of the affirmations in the creed. So when we share our faith using the creed, it is as though we share the creed with the original twelve apostles and with all Christians throughout the ages.

Liturgy means “work of the people.” Reciting the creed, singing the Gloria and the Doxology, joining in confession and supplication, hearing and responding to the Word, these are just some of the elements that make up the work we do in worship. Worship, framed around the liturgy is our work. Stating what we believe is a part of that work, but there is something missing from the creed.

We say the words that shape our faith, yet we go straight from “born of the Virgin Mary” to “suffered under Pontius Pilate.” The creed takes us from the birth of Jesus to the Passion of the Christ, but speaks nothing of what happened in between. There’s only a comma. The entire life of Jesus of Nazareth, the life of the Christ is summed up in a comma. That’s heavy lifting for a little comma.

The Apostles’ Creed leaves the life and ministry of Jesus in a comma. It’s a shame that’s all there is, but if we were to begin to expand that comma we would have a creed as long as the gospels. John’s gospel even tells us that all of the works of Jesus could not be contained in that book, so in truth that comma can be expanded into something larger than scripture as we know it. So what is in that comma?

In that comma is life. In that comma is hope. Christ lives in that comma, we live in Christ. We are called to live into that comma. Our life and vocation is found living into the comma.

Today, Mark’s gospel invites us to consider the part of our lives that we find in the comma. The part of our lives we find in the hyphen. Looking at stone in the cemetery, all of the hyphens look the same, but we know this is not true. It is up to us to see where the Lord is leading us in this life. It is up to us to live into the comma and that is what makes Christians different from others in this life.

Walter J. Burghardt said, “Here is your Advent: Make the Christ who has come a reality, a living light, in your life and in some other life. Give of yourself… to one dark soul… with no conditions”[4] God leads us to make Christ a reality in our life and the lives of others. It is up to us to follow. It is up to us to live into our dash, to live into his comma.

Our reading from Isaiah tells of when the prophet spoke of the days to come. He spoke of the awesome things Christ does we do not expect. The first of these was God coming to earth. Today our reading, this first reading in Advent presents Jesus expanding Isaiah’s prophecy telling creation that he will come again. When he comes he will see the work of his hands in the work of his people. He will see his life as our living liturgy, his life as our work.

When we allow ourselves to be shaped by God as a potter shapes the clay; we live into the dash, we live into the comma. Advent means coming. Jesus is coming. Parousia mean coming, or more aptly coming back. Jesus is coming again. So let us be aware of both arrivals. The one we celebrate in about four weeks and the other which will come in God’s good time.

Together let us seek the word of God. Hear the word of God. Let us follow God’s word. This is how we do God’s work. This is how we live as God’s people.

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[1] Revelation 22:20

[2] The Decider, http://timelovesahero.blogspot.com/2011/11/decider.html, retrieved November 26, 2011.

[3] The Reverend Doctor John Alsop

[4] Burghardt, Walter J., “Sir, We Would Like to See Jesus.”  Paulist Press, 1982 in “An Advent Sourcebook.”  Thomas J. O’Gorman, Editor.  Chicago: Archdiocese of Chicago, Liturgy Training Publications, 1988, page 9.

The Decider

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday November 20, 2011, the 34th and last Sunday of Ordinary Time. This day is celebrated as Christ the King Sunday.

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Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Psalm 100

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

The Morrill Land Grant Act of 1862 set aside federal land in every state to establish a state university. The act required the universities to establish what we call today Reserve Officer Training Corps units. It also required instruction in agricultural, technical, and mechanical arts. The county extension service was also created under this act to improve agricultural and homemaking skills throughout the states. The Morrill Act created what we know as the A&M’s, A&T’s, and State Universities.

Because of the land donation, the law encouraged the universities to be built in rural and out of the way areas of the state. This helped reduce urban distractions that detract from higher education. Looking at the locations of the land grant schools in this region makes this point. Some of the fabulous cities which host these universities include College Station, Texas; Baton Rouge, Louisiana; Stillwater, Oklahoma; Manhattan, Kansas; Las Cruces, New Mexico; Auburn, Alabama; and the possibly aptly named Starkville, Mississippi.

Yet one hundred fifty years after the Morrill Act was passed, these university towns are among some of the most livable cities in America. Forbes list of most livable cities often include the land grant school cities of Madison, Wisconsin; Lincoln, Nebraska; and Fayetteville, Arkansas. The question of what shaped the quality of life in these towns is a chicken-and-egg thing; were these cities always livable or did the university make the city livable? The truth is that the university serves as a hub for business and industry and arts and leisure that make these cities livable. Without the universities these cities wouldn’t be destinations, they’d be the middle of nowhere.

Everyone wants to defend their alma mater, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I ask: Would you want to go to College Station or Baton Rouge if it weren’t for the university?

There is one problem with the cities that host these universities. These small towns often end up with big city problems like poverty and crime. By the insulated nature of these communities and the university itself, these problems and others are often swept into corners and hidden. They don’t happen often, and that’s not bad news, but because of this lack of frequency first responders and law enforcement officials don’t have the experience their big-city brethren have.

Often, these issues are ignored hoping they will go away. A couple of weeks ago, these issues came together in a perfect storm of horror in at State College, Pennsylvania a former coach, at one time the heir apparent to become head coach, was named in a grand jury report concerning several horrible incidents of child abuse.

I won’t go into the full story as I know it; because not only do I not know the full story, but the full story hasn’t unfolded yet. Still, some things must be asked and answered. These questions include “Who knew what and when did they know it?” and “Who should have done what?” Pundits and parents are asking about the differences between fulfilling “legal responsibilities” and following “moral imperatives.” People don’t seem to be asking “Did this really happen?” In American jurisprudence this is important because every accused person goes to trial with the presumption of innocence. This question is also the reason people add the word “alleged” when specifying names and crimes.

There’s also an old expression for times like this, “There’s a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child like this.”

By the way, I’m not going into the similar controversy happening with the basketball program at Syracuse University because it is now just coming to light. That and the ‘Cuse doesn’t fit my “land grant school” motif.[1] This morning Marie asked me if coaches were becoming the new “Catholic Priests” and all I could say was “yes.”

So I want to reiterate this: I believe there is a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child like this. This is where we connect to our gospel reading this morning.

I have often undersold the story of the sheep and goats and that’s my loss. Jesus tells a wild, wild tale. Beyond a story, it’s in my opinion the wildest prophetic view of end times, the second coming and eternal judgment in Matthew’s gospel.

Our reading begins with the word that sets the stage for the apocalyptic prophecy, “when.” Using this definite adverb, Jesus begins by proclaiming this event will happen like it has already happened. “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory.” Jesus has told all of his disciples that he will come in his glory.

At this point, all of the nations come gathered; collected before Christ the King on his throne. There he separates the people just like a shepherd separates sheep and goats. These images are intentional. Jesus is referred to as the Good Shepherd in scripture so this is not an accident. In fact, these images sound a lot like our reading from Ezekiel. Jesus chose this image carefully.

The nation of Israel is often referred to as sheep. The Lord has had a special relationship nation of Israel since the beginning, since Genesis. These images and thoughts come together in verse 34 when King Jesus says to the sheep, “take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.”

This portrayal of the sheep is good as far as it goes. Matthew’s gospel was directed toward Jewish believers, but this particular prophecy also has an eye toward those who spread the word of the risen Christ and those who support those them. Those gentiles who support the Kingdom of Heaven, supporting the church and those who spread the Good News, they are also included in the sheep of this fold.

In this passage Jesus tells us that those who hear his voice work on behalf of his kingdom. This is true; the sheep of his fold are those who hear his voice and follow his commands. Those who love the Lord hear his voice and follow his commands. By this, some people say that we can be saved by works; some read this to say that if you’re good you will enter into the kingdom. We in the reformed tradition stand firmly against this. We are saved by grace through faith, and we demonstrate our faith in responding to God’s grace in word and deed. It is up to us to share the Good News of the risen Christ and support those who share the good news.

We need to remember that in the ancient of days there were those who persecuted Christians. There were Christians who are hungry and thirsty and there was no one to give them something to eat or a cool water to drink. There were evangelists who traveled to share the Good News who had no place to lay their heads. There were missionaries who were imprisoned for doing what the Lord called them to do. There were even rabbis who shared the difficult words of life, not just the popular ones, and they were cast aside because the message was too much for some to hear.

As true as this was then, it is just as true today. This passage is about the missionaries and evangelists who share the good news yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Even more so, it is for those who support them.[2]

What’s interesting about this passage is that everybody seems to be surprised to be included in either the sheep or the goats. Everyone asks “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?”

The righteous and the cursed both ask this question. Both groups, the sheep and the goats, don’t recognize when they have served and when they have failed. In Matthew’s reading, nobody really knows which variety of livestock they will be lumped in. Neither group can tell. They just don’t know.

So, this gets back to where I began. I do believe there’s a special place in hell for someone who would harm a child, but here’s the rub, it’s not up to me to decide who the sheep are and who the goats are. No matter what I think, no matter how “well qualified” I think I am to make that judgment; it’s not up to me. With what happened at Penn State, I am not qualified to decide who gets to go to the “special place.” The responsibility for that decision has been given by the Father to the Son to decide.

Returning to scripture, the answer to “who judges the righteous and who judges the cursed?” are right in front of us. Verse 32 tells us “[The Son of Man] will separate the people one from another. Verse 34 then tells us “Come, you who are blessed by my Father…” Matthew’s gospel tells us it is the Father who blesses the righteous who are separated from the cursed by the King at the final judgment.

As for the others, Matthew doesn’t call them the evil or the unrighteous; he simply calls them “you who are cursed.” Jesus doesn’t say who curses them; he just says they are cursed. To say they are cursed by the Lord is to say a defendant’s guilt is caused by the judge. The judge only put the state’s seal on the proceeding.

Matthew doesn’t say the devil is the one who curses them either. The devil and the cursed will share the same punishment, but the devil can’t force anybody to do anything. Tempt, yes. Coerce, no.

There is no time when it is up to us to decide who are the sheep and who are the goats. It is not up to us to decide who will be with Christ the King in the Kingdom of God and who will be with the devil in eternal torment. This is up to the Lord. So if we don’t decide who’s a sheep and who’s a goat then what do we get to decide?

We are called to make choices for our lives and our families. It is up to us to choose how we live. It is up to us as parents and as the Body of Christ to raise disciples who are able to make good decisions. Are we to choose the life scripture calls us to lead or are we to go and do what we want? Are we to be tempted to keep our own agendas or are we to work for the good of God’s good earth? Are we to reject the great unwashed or should we remember that when we do for the least of people around us in truth we serve the Lord?

It is our choice, and as for me and this house, we will serve the Lord.

We come together today on Christ the King Sunday to declare that God is sovereign. We come and testify that Christ is King. One of the king’s responsibilities is to judge creation, and Matthew shows us this will happen. He doesn’t say when, he doesn’t go into all of the twists and turns of apocalyptic prophecy. Matthew simply tells us the Son of Man will come in his glory and when he does he will sit on his throne and judge. Nothing more, nothing less.

Matthew doesn’t say that the goats will be sent in the realm of the devil. On the contrary, we read that those who are cursed will be sent into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. The devil isn’t the king of this kingdom, he isn’t the king of anything. He’s just another soul writhing in agony. Christ is the King of all creation.

It is up to us to judge our own behavior. It is up to us to judge the behavior of others to say “this is a good role model.” It is up to us to judge the behavior of others to say “that is no sort of behavior for me, for a follower of Christ.”

Christ is the king, we are the servants. It is up to us to share God’s word with the world and support those who share the word. It’s not up to us to decide who will be saved and who will not because Christ the king makes that decision. Taking time and energy to make this judgment ultimately distracts us doing what we are called to do. It is up to us to feed the hungry and give a cold drink to the thirsty, to offer shelter to the sojourner, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and imprisoned.

By this we don’t earn our salvation. By this we participate in the salvation of the world. By this we decide to join in with God’s redemptive work in creation.

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[1] Syracuse University has a historical connection to the United Methodist Church.

[2] “The New Interpreter’s Bible.” Leander Keck, General Editor, v. VIII, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, page 456.