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.

---

[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.

If I Had a Hammer...

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday November 15, 2009, the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time.

1 Samuel 1:4-20
1 Samuel 2:1-10
Hebrews 10:11-14; 19-25
Mark 13:1-8

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

I read the news today. What an amazingly depraved world we live in. In a little less than a year, our Mayor was cited twice and served jail time twice for driving while impaired and possession of marijuana. A noted local attorney was arrested on so many drug related charges that her bond was set at $50,000.00; and the only reason it wasn’t $100,000.00 was because she agreed to immediately enter a drug rehabilitation program. Chris Helmlinger was found in a shallow grave because someone wanted to steal his identity. All they wanted his identity, his name and his numbers, so they took his life.

It was less than ten days ago that Army psychiatrist Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan killed thirteen people at Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas, the largest mass murder ever on a domestic military base.[1] This happened just eleven days shy of the anniversary of another notorious mass murder, this too in Killeen.

Eighteen years ago tomorrow, George Jo Hennard drove his pickup through the front window of the Luby’s Cafeteria in Killeen. Then after shooting and killing twenty-three and wounding twenty others he turned his weapon on himself. This was the deadliest shooting spree in America, until the Virginia Tech shootings not eighteen months ago.

Last night CNN showed a special on the survivors of the Jonestown massacre. Nearly a thousand died and barely thirty survived the horrific mass murder/suicide which introduced into the American conscience the expression “drink the Kool-Aid.”

As for me, I don’t think the question “what kind of sick, twisted world is this?” should ever be asked. It always seems to me that just as soon as it’s asked, the answer rears its ugly head getting more and more grotesque.

In my opinion, and your mileage may vary, I don’t think the world is really any worse than it was in biblical times. Some of the things we read about in scripture’s historical books are just as sick and twisted as anything I have just described. The one thing that makes us really different is that we are bigger, stronger, and faster than our biblical counterparts. We’ve become the “Six-Million-Dollar-Man” of sin. Add to this the ready access to information which has increased exponentially since Guttenberg invented the printing press, and we may not be worse. But if it seems that way to you, I won’t press the point.

Jesus told his disciples that the temple will fall, not one stone will be left upon another, all will be thrown down. Later, when asked in private, Jesus warned the brothers, James and John, Peter and Andrew, that they will hear of wars and rumors of wars. They were warned that nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom. They were warned of earthquakes and famine.

The signs are there, the signs are alive and well. A Google search with the terms “end times” returns over 262,000,000 hits in under one-eighth of a second. Yes, Jesus warns that end times are coming and there are a whole lot of people who are trying to guess when that will be.

Many use Christian prophecy to say that the end is just around the corner. Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins created a cottage industry doing this with the “Left Behind” books, movies, and other products based on one interpretation of Christian end times.

Recently there has been even more attention paid to the Mayan calendar which ends with the winter solstice of 2012. Between the History Channel, the Learning Channel, the Discovery Channel, and a major movie depicting human struggle against natural disasters of terrifying proportion; the attention paid to what happens when it happens in this prophetic scenario is very fashionable, and very profitable.

So Jesus teaches that there are end times, and they will be ushered in tragically. The disciples were warned that this was just the beginning; this agony was simply the pangs of a mother preparing to give birth. This is the Braxton Hicks of prophecy fulfillment. This is the false labor, just the pangs. This isn’t even the real thing. This agony is just how creation prepares itself for the coming birth of the new age. But there is something very interesting about this prophecy, very interesting indeed.

Remember if you will from our reading, Jesus predicts the destruction of the temple. The devastation of this temple would be so great that not one stone would be left upon another. We’re not talking about cinder blocks here either; we’re talking about great vast dressed stones. To destroy the temple would take a tremendous effort. The destruction of the temple would take considerable time and effort.

Not only would it take great physical effort to tear down the temple, it would take great political, military, and general human power to tear it down. The Romans had a very “live and let live” attitude toward other cultures and religious faiths in the empire; as long as there was civil rest and as long as the tribute was paid. When those bridges got crossed, whether by political upheaval or taxes not making their way across the Mediterranean, the army moved. It moved swiftly, or as swiftly as it could given the information and travel technologies of the day; and it moved brutally. Again, these folks didn’t invent crucifixion, but they took it to a place no one could have imagined.

So for this prophecy to come about, there would be years of minor insurrections. There would be little pockets of resistance. There would be some warnings before the whip came down, and when the whip came, it would take a little longer to get there than it would take for a B-1 bomber to leave Fort Leonard Wood and get to the Middle East, and it came with a vengeance.
Ultimately, the utter destruction of the temple and the nation of Israel, this destruction prophesied by Jesus in our reading today, came to fruition in 70 AD in a series of horrible and dramatic battles ending with the siege at Masada.

Now, what makes this prophecy interesting is that according to biblical scholars the book of Mark, the first of the recorded gospels, was written sometime between 65 and 75 AD. What I’m saying is that this prophecy was written as the events of the day were unfolding toward the destruction of the temple. They might even have been written after they unfolded. I guess the point I’m making here is that it’s pretty easy to write accurate prophecy while they are unfolding. It’s even easier to do afterward.

It’s easy to prophesy something that has all ready happened, and I say to you today that these events continue to happen. Prophesy, and this prophesy in particular is being fulfilled everyday. The local examples I listed earlier point toward this prophesy. The items from twenty to thirty years ago point to this prophesy. We can count natural disasters; earthquakes, tsunami, hurricanes, tornadoes and the like. We can include the terror of the World Trade Center and the rest of the 9/11 attacks. When we do this, we can imagine that this is how some peoples live everyday in the shadow of their enemies.

This knowledge about the history of this reading can give us a feeling like the whole thing is anticlimactic. What’s prophecy if the events have all ready happened? What good is a warning of events that have all ready come to pass? What’s so important about Jesus sharing knowledge that was all ready known? The answer is this: What is important is not the prophecy, what is important is first how Jesus responded to the prophecy and then how we respond to Jesus.

In verses four and five, the brothers ask the Lord, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished.” Again, the disciples are not so unlike us and we are not so unlike them. When offered the news of prophecy, they wanted to be able to identify when the signs would be fulfilled.

A couple of weeks ago, I talked about the “now, but not yet” view of our holy lives. How we live in the light of the kingdom of God, but because of the very nature of sin, the kingdom is not come, at least not yet. This “now, but not yet” is another way to express the fulfillment of this end times prophecy. Surely, by any estimation of this prophecy, based on the signs Jesus shared with his disciples, we live in end times. But this fact, this knowledge cannot lead us to say that tomorrow will not come, not yet.

As true as it is to say these prophecies were coming true in the day of the Lord, it is as true today. The signs are all around, so how did Jesus answer their question about the signs of the times? Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray.”

Did you notice what Jesus did there? He doesn’t answer their question. They want to know when, he offers something else; he gives them something even more useful than the signs of the end times. He warns them not to be led astray. And in this “now, but not yet” of end times, there are opportunities aplenty to be led astray.

Jesus doesn’t seem to care if we know the day when there will be no more tomorrows. If that mattered most, surely he would have shared that with his disciples. There are more important fish to fry. So instead, Jesus shares something more important, the dire warning that in a world that is so ripe with sin that it can’t seem to get worse, until it does, we must beware that we are not mislead.

You see, Jesus is the sign. Many will come to lead us astray, they will say, “I am he,” and they are not “He.” The glory of how this is written in the ancient Greek texts is that there is a better way to translate this phrase, this “I am he.” The simpler translation would read, “Many will come in my name and say “I AM.” The way Jesus said this little phrase; he invoked the Greek version of the holiest of Hebrew words, the name of God.

In a world where the kingdom of God is here and now, but not here and not yet; in a world where by the signs of sin the end is here and now, but not here and not yet, we are not called to interpret the signs. We are called to live in the light. We are called to move from the alienation of this world to the divine community ruled by Christ. We are called to move from the dark to the light. We are called to move from slavery to freedom. We are called to move from fear to liberty and assurance of eternal life. For Christians, it is Jesus and his message of salvation by grace through faith which is the sign of all times.

Pete Seeger and Lee Hays wrote the song “If I Had a Hammer.”[2] It ends with this refrain:

Well, I’ve got a hammer,
And I’ve got a bell,
And I’ve got a song to sing,
All over this land.
It’s the hammer of justice,
It’s the bell of freedom,
It’s the song about love between my brothers and my sisters,
All over this land.

Thanks be to God for the hammer and the bell and the song which we are to hammer and ring and sing. It is when we hammer, ring, and sing the songs of God’s love and freedom and salvation by grace through faith that the word and the kingdom reach further into this world, this world which is so sin sick. When we do this, the tide of these unholy signs is stemmed that no one will be led astray.

[1] CNN.com, Fort Hood suspect charged with murder, http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/11/12/fort.hood.investigation/index.html, retrieved November 14, 2009.
[2] Seeger, Pete and Hays, Lee, “If I Had a Hammer.” Warner Bros. Records, 1962.

The Sky Is Falling

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on Sunday November 30, 2008, the 1st Sunday in Advent.

Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37

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

If you’ve watched the news, read the paper, checked out a magazine, or surfed the web lately, you will have all of the evidence you need to think that the sky is falling.

Let’s start right here at home where David Davis Chevrolet has closed. Because of personal tragedy and a harsh economy, our local GM dealer has closed laying off twenty people. This isn’t a Yugo dealer; this is a Chevy dealer closing its doors.

Another victim of the economy is DHL Shipping which is closing its American operations. How bad does the economy have to be for a company to decide to close its American subsidiary and focus overseas? This may sound biased, but that’s not how I intend it. When a company decides every market it serves on earth is better than America, something’s happening.

A quick trip to the mall shows a bunch of stores in trouble. The stock price of Little Rock’s very own Dillard’s has dropped from just over $23 per share to under $4 in less than a year because their revolving credit line has dried up with JP Morgan. Other stores like Talbots, Pier 1, and Eddie Bauer are taking it hard too.[1]

Just to make all things seem even more wrong, Rite Aid pharmacy is on its way down the financial tubes. When a pharmacy is losing money, it’s no wonder financial pundits are crying like the sky is falling.

And to put the cherry on the ice cream sundae of disaster, a meteorite, estimated to be ten feet in diameter, fell on Alberta last week. One writer said that if it had been ten times bigger it could have wiped out Edmonton.[2] So literally, the sky is falling.

Speaking of Rite Aid, I don’t blame you for wondering if I haven’t gone off of my medication. The same thought crossed my mind. If nothing else, it may be time to get my meds adjusted.

Of course, we aren’t the first to suffer woes. In the time that Mark’s gospel was written, the church was facing difficulty. By this time, there were obvious differences between Jews and Christians.

Christians were being blamed for the woes of the Empire. Christians were made the scapegoats for Rome’s burning during the reign of Nero.[3] Leaders of the Church, including Peter and Paul, were being jailed and crucified. So it was no wonder that toward the end of this Gospel, there is significant attention to pain and suffering.

The siege of Jerusalem was just around the corner. About this time, the Jews had captured the Roman garrison complex at Masada. War and rumor of war were brewing. To the faithful, it must have seemed that creation was hanging on by a thread. Life as they knew it had changed upon recognizing the Christ and their responsibility to Him and His reign on earth. As their leaders were being beaten, tortured, and killed; turmoil was the order of the day.

I imagine to them it looked like the sky was falling. It’s no wonder bible editors call this passage “the Little Apocalypse.”

Many in this world are in situations not unlike the Christians of Mark’s day. We are at the end of our ropes. We are hanging over the abyss. Christians are facing loss of life and liberty across the planet. The name of Christ is being misrepresented in the name of war and in the name of commerce.

Mark describes this well, whether he intended his situation in 65 AD or ours today when he wrote,

“But in those days, after that suffering,
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from heaven,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”

These images weren’t lost on the people. They are from Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Joel. There would be suffering and then the world will be in darkness. The laws of physics are suspended as all that we know as right is gone and even the powers in the heavens will be shaken. The sky is falling and we are at the end of our ropes; what shall we do?

What we should do is the scariest thing a 21st Century American can imagine. I say let go of the rope.

That’s right, let go of the rope.

You might well be thinking right now it would be an even better time for me to check my meds, and you may well be right. But before you think me cruel in my suggestion, let me make one more, we need to release all of the presumed control we have over our lives and the lives of others and release it right now. We need to fall into are the arms of the loving God.

Our reading from Isaiah confesses to the Lord “There is no one who calls on your name or attempts to take a hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us.”[4] “The Lord has delivered us into the power of our own iniquities.”[5] After this confession, Isaiah continues “Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”[6]

Isaiah confesses the Lord hides from us because we have been delivered into our own iniquities, our own sins. Yet, we also confess that the Lord is in control and molds us as a potter molds the clay. When we drop into the arms of the Lord, the Lord will catch us and mold us.

Our reading from the Psalms is a cry for restoration;

“Restore us, O God of hosts;
Show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.

The psalm makes this plea three times. We beg for light from the face of God that we be saved. And surely this is true when we release our own concerns and take up the ones we are commanded to accept from God.

Paul’s writings in 1Corinthians go on to remind us that it is all right to let go of our ropes because what the Lord provides is so much better than whatever we scratch and claw. In Christ Jesus we are enriched in every way. We do not lack in any spiritual gift as we wait for the Lord to be revealed. In Christ we are strong so that we will be blameless on the day of the Lord.

Alfred Delp expresses these sentiments saying:

We must let go of all our mistaken dreams, our conceited poses and arrogant gestures, all the pretenses with which we hope to deceive ourselves and others. If we fail to do this, stark reality may take hold of us and rouse us forcibly in a way that will entail both anxiety and suffering.[7]

When we hang onto the ropes of our concerns, worrying about falling into the abyss that is both the known and unknown terrors of our lives, we cling to nothing but fear and dread that one day we may fall.

We fear that we may become victims of what our lives have in store for us. And this is surely why we are called to release our expectations and be molded into the life the Lord intends. We are to use the gifts God has given us. We are to use them seeking restoration of God’s good creation. To do this, we are called to be aware.

We are called to be aware because we do not know when the time will come. So as we drop from our ropes, we are called to keep alert because Jesus is coming. And as we read last week, we know the Lord is here now. We fall into the arms of the ever-loving God when we serve the poor which we do today in our tithes and next week in the Two-Cents-a-Meal offering.[8]

We read from Matthew’s gospel last week, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” 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”[9]

The Advent of the Lord is coming, literally. You see, Advent comes from the Latin for “coming.” Jesus has come. Jesus is here now. Jesus will come again.

Given the way the sky is falling, this is our only hope, the hope of all Christians. In the words of William Sloane Coffin, “hope is what’s still there when all your worst fears have been realized.”[10] So be hopeful; and take heed, keep on the alert; for we do not know when the appointed time will come.

[1] AOL Money and Finance, “Big Retailers Which May Close or Downsize,” http://money.aol.com/investing/big-retailers-which-may-close-or-downsize?photo=1, retrieved November 27, 2008
[2] Easterbrook, Gregg, http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=easterbrook/081125&campaign=rsssrch&source=page2, retrieved November 28, 2008.
[3] New Interpreter’s Study Bible, vol. viii. Leander Keck, General Editor, Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1995, pages 514-515,
[4] Isaiah 64:7a New Revised Standard Version
[5] Isaiah 64:7b, New American Standard Bible
[6] Isaiah 64:8
[7] Delp, Alfred, The Prison Meditation of Alfred Delp. Herder and Herder, 1968, published with permission of The Crossroad Publishing Company in “An Advent Sourcebook.” Thomas J. O’Gorman, Editor. Chicago: Archdiocese of Chicago, Liturgy Training Publications, 1988, page 9.
[8] The Two-Cents-a-Meal offering, also known as the Cents-Ability offering is taken by the First Presbyterian Church on behalf of three hunger relief missions and collected by the Presbytery of Arkansas. A portion of our regular tithes and offerings also go to support the Salvation Army and the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank of the Ozarks.
[9] 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.
[10] Coffin, William Sloane, The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, The Riverside Years, Volume 1, Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, page 137.

Look at What We've Done!

This sermon was preached at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on November 19, 2006

1 Samuel 1:4-20
1 Samuel 2:1-10
Hebrews 10:11-14; 19-25
Mark 13:1-8

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

I enjoy studying the book of Hebrews. To me, it’s like the Cliff Notes version of Old Testament events, people, and theology. Because of its probable roots, this isn’t surprising. Written in the style of the Rabbinical Midrash, a style of theological commentary developed by Rabbis; Hebrews was probably written as a theological bridge for Jewish Christians. Many first and second century Jewish Christians were in difficult religious and social situations. Many were tempted, even threatened, to return to temple worship. So Hebrews was probably written for a group of Jewish Christians to bolster their faith.[1] And then it became more widely circulated among the churches from Palestine through Asia to Rome. There is nothing in the text that says that the intended readers had to be Jewish Christians, but because of the writing style and the people lifted up in the text it is very possible. Regardless, this does not lessen the usefulness of Hebrews to the universal church.

The first half of our reading from Hebrews compares the sacrifices of the temple Priests and that of Jesus the Christ. The priests of the Temple would stand day after day offering the same sacrifices again and again on behalf of the people. Our reading from Hebrews notes these sacrifices are found lacking compared to the finality of Christ’s sacrifice. As mentioned in chapter 10 verses 12 and 14, Christ’s work is a single sacrifice, a single offering for all time. The constant offerings made by the priests could not compare. It wasn’t that the Priest’s offerings were bad; it’s just that the Priest’s many daily offerings could never accomplish what Christ’s single offering could.

As most of you know before entering seminary, I worked in higher education at a small community college in rural Southeast Colorado. Every year began with excitement as the new crop of first year students came to the college. Many were fresh out of high school, some were entering college after some years of working at home, and still others were gearing up for the next stage in their careers. The week before classes began with a fanfare of welcomes and presentations, picnics and entertainment, placement testing and registration. It was a time of expectation and anticipation; a time to say good bye to old ways and to become immersed in academe. It was a time to meet new people and be exposed to new ideas. And for many, this was happening in a new place.

As a part of New Student Orientation, the State of Colorado required all incoming students to receive information about alcohol abuse and communicable diseases. Colorado determined that these issues are a concern for new students, so all colleges were required to provide information. Our college used presenters supplemented with brochures and handouts. I was in charge of developing these presentations. Every year I would review the latest information, update handouts, order new pamphlets, arrange for speakers, and check out new video tapes.

And every year, people abused alcohol. Every year, people got communicable diseases. I could not prevent this. I was wholly unable to prevent this. Yet I arranged the presentations as required. I was glad to do it too; I knew that what I did was important for the life of the community.

In a sense, I was making an offering like the Priests. The Priests made offerings to purify the People of Israel. I made an offering of information to educate the new students. The Priests knew they would make the offerings again the next day because one, they were directed to in the Law, and two, because the transgressions of the community would continue. Their work was never the last word in sanctification of the people so they continued the offerings. I knew I would made my offering because one, I was directed to in the law and two, because I knew that transgressions of the community would continue. As new students came through our doors, there were always more people who needed the information we provided. So in a way, this is not so different from the sacrifices made by the priests in Old Testament times.

These sacrifices were made by the priests over and over again. Their sacrifices were offered to make amends between the community and the Lord. The sacrifices they made were on behalf of the community, the priests themselves, and sins that were not atoned for by the other sacrifices. From the very beginning, the sacrifices were imperfect; they had to be made over and over again.

This is the point of the first part of our reading from Hebrews 10; whatever we do, it can never be enough to fill the gulf between humanity and the Almighty. Offerings were made for generations and if it were not for the destruction of the temple they still would be made today.

But Hebrews also reminds us of the ultimate sacrifice, the one sacrifice made now and forever on our behalf, a single sacrifice; a single offering; for all time. God comes to earth in Jesus the Christ, fully human and fully divine, and God is offered as a sacrifice for those who are set aside. There is nothing else we can do, it is done. There is no thing more we can offer for atonement of sin. The Lamb of God is the only perfect and unblemished sacrifice.

Often, small children will cry out to their parents, “come and look at what I’ve done!” In most children there is a pride and a joy that come with achievement. It is wanting to share that pride and joy that offers the invitation to look at what I’ve done... usually. It isn’t even always the case that the cry is made by children. Our reading from Mark points out that adults even like to cry out “look at what we’ve done!”

By this time in Mark’s gospel, Jesus has made his triumphal entrance into Jerusalem. Jesus has entered Jerusalem on a colt, not a war horse, disappointing those who are looking for Jesus to be a political messiah. He has cleansed the temple of the money changers, but he has declared it legal to pay taxes to Caesar. He has taught in parables and he has spoken plainly. He has worshipped with his disciples and now he and his disciples leave worship in the temple. So now, as we barrel head long into the season of Advent and move toward the season of Jesus’ birth, we read of our Lord moving precariously through the week of the Passion.

And as Jesus comes out of the temple with his disciples, one of them says to Jesus, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” It is as if the unnamed disciple is saying, “Look at the great stones, look at the great buildings, behold the glory, look at what our ancestors have done!” After the time they spent together, after everything they have shared, someone says, “Hey, look at what we’ve done did for God, isn’t it wonderful.” Jesus’ response is a short, sharp shock: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” I don’t think Jesus intends to be rude to the disciple, but the response is direct and matter of fact. Jesus tells him that what their ancestors so wonderfully created will one day be dust.

Still the closest of Jesus’ disciples want more information, the facts, the inside scoop. They want to know how to recognize when the time comes; they want to know so they can react when it happens. Given the dire prediction Jesus has just given them, it might be presumptuous to ask, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good thinking.

Jesus does not give an answer they expect. I suspect they are asking for a date and time. Instead he warns them, beware that no one leads you astray. They are warned there are some who will say “I am he.”

When this phrase, “I am he,” is used in the Old Testament, it is the invocation of the Lord’s name. The “he” Jesus refers to is the Lord our God. To rephrase, there are some who will come to earth and claim to be the messiah. The ones who make this claim will lead the people astray. There will be war, and rumors of war, nation will rise against nation, kingdom against kingdom, and principality against principality. There will be earthquakes, hunger, famine, and this is the beginning. This is the beginning. This is the work that has to be done, as scripture says, it is necessary.

If this had been my question, I would not have been happy with the answer. I would be looking for something more specific. And if this is the beginning, the events of the end would be even more frightening. Jesus knew that there was nothing that the disciples could do with or about these signs. Nothing they did would enable them to divine these signs in the events of the next week or the next two thousand years.

But through his earthly ministry, Jesus made clear to them what he wants. He wants them to be apostles, followers, envoys, messengers. He wants them to share their experience of ministry together with him and after he leaves. He wants them to enjoy the water, and the bread, and the wine, and know that this is what is important, being in community with the triune God and with one another. They are emissaries and they are to share this experience with the world.

And this is exactly what the Lord Jesus wants for us. He wants us to continue being his followers, envoys, and messengers. He wants us to share the experience of ministry in his name, in his power, on behalf of those in need. He wants us to enjoy the waters of our baptism and be nourished by the plate and cup of the table. He wants us to enjoy the eternal community begun in the persons of the triune God. He wants us serve one another in his name with his power as followers, envoys, and messengers.

Yes, there is work to do and Jesus compares the work we begin with birth pangs. But the term “birth pangs” does not just refer to the pain of child birth. Jesus is also referring to the work involved in giving birth—the physical exertion, not just the pain.[2] And while the work of bringing a child into the world is strenuous and painful, it is just the beginning. After giving birth, there is much to be done.

This is a scary time, friends. Watching the news is enough to sow the seeds of an ulcer. There is war and rumor of war. There are those who claim they do the will of God, whether by holy war or some other things. We are told not to be alarmed because this is necessary. Still, I am familiar with the Kingston Trio song lyric, “It takes a worried man to sing a worried song.”[3]

This is why we need to go back to the second half of our reading from Hebrews. This later half of the reading then tells us to have confidence. We are to hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering because he who has promised, Jesus Christ, is faithful. We are to have confidence to approach the throne of grace through the sacrifice of Jesus, the single sacrifice; the single offering; made for all time. Just like the Priests of the temple, our offerings will never be enough. This is why we need the grace and peace of Jesus Christ. This is why Christ offers his grace. This is why we must accept it and live in it.

When we say look at what we’ve done, we are in peril. Just like the temple, what we make will become dust. It is the nature of our offerings; they will pass through the sands of time. But we are called to offer ourselves to serve as conduits, for the glory of God through the power of God. When we give of ourselves to others through the name and the power of Jesus Christ, we receive and give the gift that lasts. Let us be followers, envoys, and messengers of the Lord our God, receiving and giving in his power and name.

[1] Hebrews introductory notes, New Interpreter’s Study Bible, Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 2003.
[2] Kittle, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Volume IX.
[3] Guard, David and Glazer, Tom, Worried Man, A. The Kingston Trio, Capitol single 4271, 1959.