• The people who have taught my children to sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
• This year’s nearly 52 Operation Uplifts and all of the people who showed up with food for a small army.
• All of those who deployed and returned safely.
• All of their families who stayed home and prayed for them.
• The way this church became a Medieval castle for a week during the summer.
• All of the “ big losers” at Camp Idlewild.
• The people who work feverishly to keep this old building running.
• A great group of shepherds.
• Hard-working deacons.
• Dedicated Ministry leaders.
• Everyone who lets us and our kids mess up their house during Lifegroups.
• The way people stand around on the front lawn after church and talk while the kids play.
• Every meal taken to someone who was sick or had a baby or just needed help.
• Every couch that was loaded onto or unloaded from a moving truck by our Moving Ministry.
• The fact that I get paid to read and think and write and pray and then talk with you about it.
• All the times that I’ve thought of something that needed to be done only to find out that someone had already done it.
• Nursery workers who wrangle small children every week.
• Children’s Church volunteers who save the kids from my sermons, and vice versa.
• Another opportunity to celebrate with other people who have been rescued by God’s grace.

• We should feel perfectly free to complain to God, or argue with God, or yell at God…God is perfectly capable of handling our anger and frustration and disappointment.  C.S. Lewis counsels us to “lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us.”
• My first counsel is simply a reminder that prayer is nothing more than an ongoing and growing love relationship with God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

• I now want to give a counsel that may sound strange.  It is that we should learn to pray even while we are dwelling on evil…We lift even our disobedience into the arms of the Father; he is strong enough to carry the weight.  Sin, to be sure, separates us from God, but trying to hide our sin separates us all the more.

In a recent article from Christianity Today, Mark Galli reminds us of Mark Twain's story, The Prince and the Pauper:

"…we are introduced to Prince Edward and a poor boy named Tom Canty. In the opening pages, they meet each other and discover they look identical. Since each one is dissatisfied with his social situation, they decide to swap places and see what life's like from the other side. Tom takes on the life of Prince Edward, and Prince Edward adopts the life of the pauper Tom. During the course of the novel, King Henry dies, at which point Prince Edward becomes King of England. For the rest of the story, Edward has to convince others that he is the legitimate king. All they see, of course, is a poor boy in rags."

The Messiah, the anointed one of Israel, her deliverer, the Son of God, the Lord who has cast out demons and raised the dead and controlled the forces of nature is on his knees. He is overwhelmed. He is racked with misery. His body is rebelling against him. And he is begging for his life. Doesn't exactly comport with our idea of grandeur and power, does it?

But I believe that this is when we see Jesus at His best. Here more than any other place, Jesus is the Messiah. He is both the Son of God and the Son of Man. He is fully human and fully divine. Nowhere else, except perhaps on the cross, do we see the two come together so completely.

It's a good thing we were not allowed to write the story of Jesus, because who but God would include the events that take place in Gethsemane? Who would imagine the Messiah in such a terrible state? But our salvation begins in Gethsemane. I'm beginning to think that this is where the battle is fought and won. Gethsemane makes Calvary (and the empty tomb) possible. And we can learn more about the world saving character of Christ there than anywhere else. I hope you'll spend some time with Him there this morning.

⁶ 'Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me… ⁸She did what she could. (Mark 14)

I'll be the first to admit that I sometimes lack attention to detail. I'm a big picture kind of guy. And so, even though I've proofread this article at least once and in spite of modern marvels like Microsoft spell-check, there's a pretty good chance that there is a typo or two in here. [For example, the first time I typed this sentence it read "a typo or to."] I would make a horrible copy editor. Nor would I be able to hold down a job at Peachtree Editorial and Proofreading.

It's their job to proofread editions of the Bible for various publishers. "Bible readers are less forgiving of errors because they expect perfection in the Bible text," says June Gunden, one of Peachtree's founders.

To remind them of the importance of their task, they have prominently displayed a list of critical Bible errors from the past. The most famous one is found in the "Adulterer's Bible" of 1631. The "not" is conveniently omitted from Exodus 20:14. Thus it reads, "Thou shalt commit adultery." Another one, dubbed the "Unrighteous Bible," omits the "not" in 1 Corinthians 6:9 and has Paul saying that the "unrighteous shall inherit the Kingdom of God."

One of Peachtree's most recent projects was the Holman Christian Standard Bible. For two years, workers meticulously scanned each page multiple times in order to weed out errors. Gunden says that many employees view their work as an extension of their faith and regularly pray about it.

Small things can be important. This morning we're going to begin talking about what we Christians see as the biggest event in history—the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. It is the fulcrum on which everything else turns. Its significance cannot possibly be overstated.

But, as this pivotal week begins, we start with a humble act of faith from an anonymous woman. It is an act that Jesus' followers dismiss as insignificant and wasteful. But Jesus sees it differently. He comes to her defense. What impresses Jesus is that this woman has done something, anything at all, that honors him.

There's an important lesson in there for us. We are not called to worry about the greatness of our efforts. We are just called to put forth the effort. I hope we can all be challenged to do what we can for God this morning.

Recently a New York Press columnist wrote about an encounter with an apocalyptic taxi driver in Baltimore. The cabbie asked him about his future plans and, following a thumbnail sketch of his intentions, informed him that they didn't matter anyway. The driver turned around and said, "I don't want to scare you, but the world is gonna end in seven months." Apparently a radio preacher that he listened to had discerned that the end was nigh. The writer goes on to note that the seven month prediction had been made 10 years ago by the time the article was published.

That's the risk we take when we hazard apocalyptic predictions. History has seen the end of time come and go more times than anyone can count. And you'd think that all of these failed soothsayers would deter others, but not so. Hope springs eternal when it comes to cataclysm.

What is it with end of the world obsessions? Why are some people led to pore over scripture or Nostradamus or Egyptian numerology or Mayan calendars in the hopes of singling out the date that the world will blow up? There are two apocalyptic movies coming out in the next few months alone.

Well I promise not to add to it. I have no predictions for you. But if Jesus would like to come back before the Tennessee Titans can embarrass themselves anymore, that would be fine with me.

As for me, I'm so anxious to avoid those predictions, I even considered skipping Mark 13. It's all about the "end of the age," and I would just as soon skip it altogether. But I guess I can't do that.

What I can do is give you this bit of good news. Jesus doesn't give us a date either. Jesus avoids that kind of prediction himself. To be honest he doesn't really give us signs. A careful reading of the text tells us that Jesus is giving hints for the beginning of the end rather than the end.

In fact, to give a date would run counter to his mission. Jesus isn't interested in giving his disciples a chance to build bomb shelters or stockpile canned goods. As we'll see, he's got other plans for them, and those plans involve taking action rather than hunkering down.

To be sure, the end is near. And it means two things for us, his people. First, we have reason to be hopeful. Second, we'd better get busy doing the work he's set out for us.

When the great Pittsburgh Steelers receiver Lynn Swann was finally inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2001, he had already spent numerous years on the ballot—more than he felt he should, apparently. According to Terry Bradshaw, Swann's quarterback throughout his career (and a hall-of-famer himself), Swann blamed him for not making it in sooner. The perceived injury was great enough for Swann to refer to it on the day of his induction. On what should have been a day of celebration, Swann decided to get his pound of flesh. He publicly blamed Bradshaw for not throwing him the ball enough in the late 70's.

Bradshaw later commented: "…I kept thinking how sad it was that he chose what should have been one of the greatest days of his life to create this controversy."

Earlier this year, when Michael Jordan was inducted into the Pro Basketball Hall of Fame, he chose a similar approach. Shortly after hearing himself proclaimed the greatest basketball player who ever lived and watching an awe-inspiring career highlights video, Jordan took to the podium and things got personal. He used one of the greatest moments of his life to exact petty revenge on those who had slighted him throughout his career. He went after former Knicks coach, Jeff Van Gundy. He scolded Isiah Thomas and Magic Johnson for snubbing him way back in 1985 (!) at the NBA All-Star game. Rather than enjoy the evening celebrating his accomplishments, he chose to stir-up controversy.

It's frustrating when people take an opportunity for celebration and turn it into something petty and mean-spirited.

That's exactly what happens to Jesus in Mark 12. Jesus, the Messiah, finally comes to Jerusalem. The Son of David comes to the Temple. This man who has spent his life healing the lame and feeding the hungry, who has brought the Good News of God's kingdom to his people, doesn't receive a very kind welcome.

Instead he is greeted by religious leaders motivated by personal vendettas alternately trying to publicly embarrass him or have him killed. And even though Jesus obviously saw it coming, I wonder if it wasn't also difficult for him.

Mark 12 would be a truly tragic chapter, if not for a couple of brief highlights. In these two instances, we can see past the foolish controversies and into the heart of pure religion. These moments are an important reminder to us not to miss the big picture in our faith. I hope you and I can get the big picture this morning.

Every year I make it a point to watch "A Christmas Story" at least once during the holiday season. This isn't hard to do, given the twenty-four hour marathon that's on one of the cable networks. Lately it's been my companion as I play the role of Santa's helper into the wee hours of Christmas Eve.

One of the recurring themes of the movie is disillusionment. As our hero Ralphie grows up in the Midwest during the 1950's, he learns that not everything turns out as expected. Again and again, Ralphie anticipates something with giddy excitement only to be disappointed by the anticlimactic nature of it all.

For instance, Ralphie keeps a constant vigil over his mailbox, waiting for the "Little Orphan Annie Decoder Ring" that he sent off for in the mail. When it finally arrives, he dashes up to the bathroom (the only place in his house where he can be alone) and feverishly decodes a secret meant for his ears only. Imagine the anticipation as he unscrambles a message that will give him special knowledge. Now imagine his disappointment as he reads the message he's waited so long to hear: "Be sure to drink your Ovaltine."

But perhaps the most soul-crushing moment of clarity comes when Ralphie finally gets to visit Santa at the local department store. He's hoping to bypass his parents and take his Christmas plea for a Red Ryder BB Gun straight to the man himself. So he endures a long wait in line and finally gains an audience with the fat man in red only to freeze up. Then, when he finally manages to muster the courage to make his petition to Santa, Santa crushes his dreams with the same reply that his mother did: "You'll shoot your eye out."

This morning we're going to read about how Jesus disappoints everyone. Everyone has expectations of this Messiah—his followers, his enemies—everyone. And Jesus refuses to fit into their narrow definitions of who the Messiah is. Jesus causes trouble everywhere he goes.

That's a good reminder for us, because we often prefer a Jesus that caters to our needs—bless us every day and then take us to heaven when we die. But that's not how it works. Jesus wants to do all of that, but he also has his own agenda. I'm reminded once again of C.S. Lewis' description of Jesus: "He's not safe, but he's Good."

I wanted to share this with you. It's from the 6-10-09 blog entry of Kevin Deyoung, entitled "Who do you say that I am?" Deyoung notes that we all have a tendency to remake Jesus in our own image, then he gives us several examples, here are a few…

• There's the Republican Jesus—who is against tax increases and activist judges, for family values and owning firearms.
• There's Democrat Jesus—who is against Wall Street and Wal-Mart, for reducing our carbon footprint and printing money.
• There's Open-minded Jesus—who loves everyone all the time no matter what (except for people who are not as open-minded as you).
• There's Martyr Jesus—a good man who died a cruel death so we can feel sorry for him.
• There's Hippie Jesus—who teaches everyone to give peace a chance, imagines a world without religion, and helps us remember that "all you need is love."
• There's Yuppie Jesus—who encourages us to reach our full potential, reach for the stars, and buy a boat.
• There's Touchdown Jesus—who helps athletes fun faster and jump higher than non-Christians and determines the outcomes of Super Bowls.

There are more, but you get the point. Everybody has an aspect of Jesus' personality that they tend to prefer over the others. The real challenge is to take Jesus as he is rather than try to make him into the Jesus that we want him to be.

We'll see that in this morning's passage. Peter tells Jesus that he's not really happy with Jesus' idea of what it means to be a Messiah. And that brings us to that famously stinging rebuke that Jesus has for Peter: "Get behind me, Satan…You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men."

And no wonder Peter says what he says. Jesus' idea of what the Messiah is supposed to do sounds crazy and difficult and, in the end, like a fool's errand. If I didn't already know how this story turns out, I would be on Peter's side.

I think that this morning's passage is one of the most difficult in all of scripture, because it runs counter to some of the most basic aspects of my own personality. It flies in the face of all conventional wisdom. And yet it is also the truest calling card of what it means to be a Christian.

According to preacher and author Ravi Zacharias, someone once asked Larry King, "If you could select any one person across all of history to interview, who would it be?" King replied that he would interview Jesus. Out of all the people who have ever lived, he chose Jesus. When asked why, he said "I would like to ask him if he was indeed virgin-born. The answer to that question would define history for me."

When Zacharias heard about it, he wrote to King's representatives asking for permission to quote him on that. King not only gave his consent, he also added, "…tell him I was not being facetious."

I appreciate King's sincerity. No matter what we do or don't believe about Jesus, his life and ministry and the things his followers say about him defines history. So much depends on the true identity of Jesus of Nazareth. So much hinges on how we respond to the claims that he made about himself.

Today we'll see one of those claims. It's widely held that our passage for the day is a major turning point in the Gospel of Mark. Apart from the crucifixion, it's the most important moment in Mark's account of Jesus' life.

No more room for doubt. No more questions or rumors or reading between the lines. We finally realize that it's not about the healings. It's not about obscure arguments about the Law of Moses—whether or not we can work on the Sabbath or eat without cleansing ourselves. All of these are interesting, even important questions.

But they all pale in comparison to the real question, the one that Jesus asks in Mark 8. It's the question that Larry King and so many before him have wrestled. Jesus asks his followers, "Who do you say that I am?"

In the end that's the only question that matters. It's the only one that Jesus really wants us to answer. That's right, he wants us to answer it. He wants us to answer it this morning. Even if we've already answered it before. Because it's not a question that you ask once and then put into storage. Jesus' identity is something we are called to decide every day.

I hope you won't avoid this question this morning. I have to ask it. I can't preach on any of the Gospels without bringing us face to face with it. At some point it is a question that will change your life. What Jesus wants to know is, "Who do you say I am?"