conspiracy

Conspiracy

When I was in college, I received multiple versions of the same email warning me that, if an oncoming car were to flash its high beams at me, I should under no circumstances respond in kind.  The forwarded email went on to say that gangs had begun a new form of initiation in which the prospect flashed his brights at oncoming cars.  When he got a car to flash back, the gangster-to-be was ordered to turn the car around and kill the driver of that car.  Only then would he be granted full membership.

Around the same time, multiple friends forwarded a story to me about a person who smuggled a cactus into the states following a vacation in Mexico.  He planted the cactus in his yard and began to water it conscientiously.  The cactus grew and grew and soon doubled its size.  Then one day, the homeowner was out back and he noticed the cactus shivering violently.  Not knowing what to do, he called a local plant shop.  After hearing his story, the store manager nervously asked some questions about the cactus and then, in a panic, told the man to hang up immediately and evacuate the house.  Just as he did so, the cactus in the backyard exploded and sprayed thousands and thousands of poisonous spiders all over the man’s property.

This was in the days before snopes.com or Google.  It was before everyone was naturally suspicious of anything that came as a forwarded email.  (Actually, this was before Microsoft Windows.  I read both of those emails in MS-DOS.)  And it was long enough ago that I believed both of the stories when I read them.  Then again, at that point I also believed that Oliver Stone’s JFK was an honest depiction of the Kennedy assassination.

I tell you all this to explain my current position on urban legends, forwarded emails and conspiracy theories.  I don’t believe any of them.  For me they are all false until proven true.  And even then, I’m not sure.  No doubt that means someday I’ll be on the wrong side of a conspiracy.  I’ll refuse to believe one that is true.  But more often than not, I believe I’ll be right.

There’s one glaring exception, one conspiracy theory that I embrace wholeheartedly. I’m going to tell you about it this Sunday.  I hope you’ll be enough of a crackpot to believe it with me.

Winterfest Sunday

Winterfest Sunday

This Sunday is a little bit different than our “typical” Sundays.  It will be led almost entirely by our teens.  They’ll be leading singing and the Lord’s Supper. In addition, I’ll have very little to say.  They are going to be sharing with us some of the things that they learned at Winterfest a couple of week ago.

Every year our teens work hard at raising funds so they can make the trip to Gatlinburg for Winterfest.  There they join well over 10,000 other teens, mostly from east of the Mississippi River, for a weekend of praise, learning and fun. (There is an identical Winterfest weekend held in Arlington, Texas). This year, they learned about twelve spiritual disciplines--practices designed to help them grow closer to God.

Every year we ask the congregation to provide a lot of support—both emotional and financial—to efforts of our teens to go to Winterfest.  We can be pretty relentless. And I haven’t the slightest bit of shame about that.  Our youth group gets a full weekend to be reminded about the love of God and His claim on their lives.  When they return, they are passionate about living their lives as followers of Christ.  In a world with so many competing messages, it’s impossible to put a price tag on that.

I recently saw a quote online from a man named Ralph W. Sockman. He describes the true intention of prayer like this—"We use prayer as a boatman uses a boat hook: to pull the boat to the shore and not to try to pull the shore to the boat.”  The same can be said of any of the spiritual disciplines.

I hope you’ll follow the lead of our teens today as they demonstrate ways that we can draw nearer to Christ.

Fake

Fake I have a bit of an obsession, and it involves my car.  As anyone who lives in Hampton Roads can tell you, there is never any guarantee of a smooth commute, and it is impossible to go anywhere in a straight line.  That’s one of the things, even ten years later, I still miss about Memphis.  Most of the major thoroughfares run on a simple North/South and East/West grid.  So it’s easy to figure out where you’re headed. Here the water rules everything.  It forces us to choose bridges and tunnels.  It bends our streets or cuts them off.  It creates choke points that snarl traffic.  (By the way, have you ever noticed that the word “snarl” as a verb meaning “to tangle” is almost exclusively used in reference to traffic?) Which leads to my obsession.  I am pathologically fixated on figuring out the fastest way to “get there.”  It drives me crazy to be stuck in traffic.  So every commute becomes an exercise in getting the most up-to-date information on traffic conditions.  (610 am is my favorite radio station.) And I’m consumed with figuring out the streets that have the least traffic. For instance, I’m convinced that 35th Street is the best way to get from Hampton Boulevard to Granby Street.  20th Street is better than 21st for going between Colley Ave. and Monticello.  And I believe that, in the afternoons, Church St. is better than Monticello/St. Paul’s for getting to the Downtown Tunnel…unless there’s a train at 21st.  And don’t even get me started on moving around Western Branch.  I-664 versus Dock Landing and Taylor Rd?  The jury’s still out. Now, I’m aware that all of my scheming probably doesn’t make much of a difference.  I’m not regaining meaningful portions of my day.  And I’m certainly wrong in thinking I know which routes are fastest.  But what I like is the sense of control that I get, even if it is imagined.  Anything’s better than just sitting in traffic.  If I sit still, I might have to pray or think about my life.  I’d much rather keep moving. This week we’re going to hear a warning from Paul about being in too much of a hurry.  He tells the Colossians that it provides a short cut to the “appearance of wisdom,” but in the end it is of “little value.”  My prayer is that we can learn to embrace the slower, more authentic way of Christ.                                                         -Robert   22These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings. 23 Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence. (Colossians 2)

Fake I have a bit of an obsession, and it involves my car.  As anyone who lives in Hampton Roads can tell you, there is never any guarantee of a smooth commute, and it is impossible to go anywhere in a straight line.  That’s one of the things, even ten years later, I still miss about Memphis.  Most of the major thoroughfares run on a simple North/South and East/West grid.  So it’s easy to figure out where you’re headed. Here the water rules everything.  It forces us to choose bridges and tunnels.  It bends our streets or cuts them off.  It creates choke points that snarl traffic.  (By the way, have you ever noticed that the word “snarl” as a verb meaning “to tangle” is almost exclusively used in reference to traffic?) Which leads to my obsession.  I am pathologically fixated on figuring out the fastest way to “get there.”  It drives me crazy to be stuck in traffic.  So every commute becomes an exercise in getting the most up-to-date information on traffic conditions.  (610 am is my favorite radio station.) And I’m consumed with figuring out the streets that have the least traffic. For instance, I’m convinced that 35th Street is the best way to get from Hampton Boulevard to Granby Street.  20th Street is better than 21st for going between Colley Ave. and Monticello.  And I believe that, in the afternoons, Church St. is better than Monticello/St. Paul’s for getting to the Downtown Tunnel…unless there’s a train at 21st.  And don’t even get me started on moving around Western Branch.  I-664 versus Dock Landing and Taylor Rd?  The jury’s still out. Now, I’m aware that all of my scheming probably doesn’t make much of a difference.  I’m not regaining meaningful portions of my day.  And I’m certainly wrong in thinking I know which routes are fastest.  But what I like is the sense of control that I get, even if it is imagined.  Anything’s better than just sitting in traffic.  If I sit still, I might have to pray or think about my life.  I’d much rather keep moving. This week we’re going to hear a warning from Paul about being in too much of a hurry.  He tells the Colossians that it provides a short cut to the “appearance of wisdom,” but in the end it is of “little value.”  My prayer is that we can learn to embrace the slower, more authentic way of Christ.                                                         -Robert    22These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings.  23 Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence. (Colossians 2)

Fake I have a bit of an obsession, and it involves my car.  As anyone who lives in Hampton Roads can tell you, there is never any guarantee of a smooth commute, and it is impossible to go anywhere in a straight line.  That’s one of the things, even ten years later, I still miss about Memphis.  Most of the major thoroughfares run on a simple North/South and East/West grid.  So it’s easy to figure out where you’re headed. Here the water rules everything.  It forces us to choose bridges and tunnels.  It bends our streets or cuts them off.  It creates choke points that snarl traffic.  (By the way, have you ever noticed that the word “snarl” as a verb meaning “to tangle” is almost exclusively used in reference to traffic?) Which leads to my obsession.  I am pathologically fixated on figuring out the fastest way to “get there.”  It drives me crazy to be stuck in traffic.  So every commute becomes an exercise in getting the most up-to-date information on traffic conditions.  (610 am is my favorite radio station.) And I’m consumed with figuring out the streets that have the least traffic. For instance, I’m convinced that 35th Street is the best way to get from Hampton Boulevard to Granby Street.  20th Street is better than 21st for going between Colley Ave. and Monticello.  And I believe that, in the afternoons, Church St. is better than Monticello/St. Paul’s for getting to the Downtown Tunnel…unless there’s a train at 21st.  And don’t even get me started on moving around Western Branch.  I-664 versus Dock Landing and Taylor Rd?  The jury’s still out. Now, I’m aware that all of my scheming probably doesn’t make much of a difference.  I’m not regaining meaningful portions of my day.  And I’m certainly wrong in thinking I know which routes are fastest.  But what I like is the sense of control that I get, even if it is imagined.  Anything’s better than just sitting in traffic.  If I sit still, I might have to pray or think about my life.  I’d much rather keep moving. This week we’re going to hear a warning from Paul about being in too much of a hurry.  He tells the Colossians that it provides a short cut to the “appearance of wisdom,” but in the end it is of “little value.”  My prayer is that we can learn to embrace the slower, more authentic way of Christ.                                                         -Robert    22These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings.  23 Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence. (Colossians 2)

REAL

Real

Back in 2006, young Dave Davila graduated from college and was fortunate enough to find a good job.  For his family, the only problem was that it was in Chicago, a 3 hour drive away from his boyhood home of East Moline, Illinois.  Davila was the only one of the four Davila children to leave his small hometown and very close knit family.  In an effort to make light of her son’s absence, Dave’s mother started looking for ways to compensate.

And so, Flat Dave was born.  Dave’s mother, Alice, took a picture of her son standing casually with his hands in his pocket and a smile on his face and had it blown up to match his 5 ft. 8 in. frame.  Then she affixed the photo to a piece of cardboard that could easily stand anywhere.

Soon Flat Dave was making appearances all over town--at his mother’s work, at a relative’s graduation party.  He’s so natural in public, people have been known to mistake him for the real Dave (who is now known as “Thick Dave”).  And this was only the beginning of Flat Dave’s fame. Soon he was being invited to public appearances.  His picture was appearing in the local paper.  He even did a very silent interview on a local radio station with Alice.

Of course everyone knows that Flat Dave is a poor substitute for the real thing.  And you can tell that Dave and his family have a good sense of humor about the whole thing, so it’s funny.  You can imagine how it would be slightly creepy if everyone wasn’t so tongue-in-cheek about it.  Or if they really seemed to be under the impression that Flat Dave is exactly the same as Thick Dave.

Dave did note that it does occasionally get surreal.  He told the Chicago Tribune, "I'm in Chicago talking to my mom on the phone and she says, `Hold on, I've got to load you into the van.' It's a little weird."

This Sunday, we’re going to start a two part sermon on true and fake religion.  There’s a passage in Paul’s letter to the Colossians where he first talks about real faith and then about fake faith.  I think you’ll see that the difference between real faith and fake faith is as obvious as the difference between a real person and a cardboard cutout.

I hope that you’ll take the opportunity to make your faith a little more real.

THANKS A BUNCH

Thanks a Bunch

 I have two quotes to share with you.  The first is one you’ve heard before, because I keep cramming it down your throat.  And I’m unapologetic about it, because every time I read it, I find that I have forgotten it and that I’m in desperate need of a reminder. It comes from Brennan Manning:

I believe that the real difference in the American church is not between conservatives and liberals, fundamentalists and charismatics, nor between Republicans and Democrats. The real difference is between the aware and the unaware.

When somebody is aware of that love—the same love that the Father has for Jesus—that person is just spontaneously grateful. Cries of thankfulness become the dominant characteristic of the interior life, and the byproduct of gratitude is joy. We're not joyful and then become grateful—we're grateful, and that makes us joyful.

The second one is from columnist Peggy Noonan:

Here is something I began to feel after I had faith: the unexpected joy of living things. At some point, living things began to seem precious to me, and I wanted to pet them, hug them—babies and dogs and lizards, whatever. For me, the great fruit of belief is joy. There is a God, there is a purpose, there is a meaning to things, there are realities we cannot guess at, there is a big peace, you are part of it.

"God is good." Near him is where you want to be. There is something called everlasting happiness, and Saint Paul—a fiercely imperfect man who was a great man—was granted visions of it, and that great user of words was floored by it and said that no one can imagine how wonderful it is. The human imagination cannot encompass it.

This Sunday we’re going to read a passage from Paul’s letter to the Colossians that reminds us of something similar: Continuing to live our lives in Christ involves “overflowing with thankfulness.” I think this is largely a lost art among us Christians.  And it’s sorely missing.  My prayer is that we can be reminded of just how blessed we are that we can overflow with thankfulness.

                                                            -Robert

kind of a big deal

Kind of a Big Deal

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.

This Sunday, we’re going to read a passage that defies our tendency to put Jesus in a box of our own making.  Paul is unapologetic in reminding us that Jesus alone represents the zenith of humanity.  Just look at Colossians 1:15-20.  This is not a small Jesus who stands by silently, waiting like a butler to do our bidding.  He doesn’t exist to serve our needs or champion our politics.

But the good news is this: he’s so much greater than anything we can imagine.  And his greatness is the means by which we are saved. 

CHALLENGE SUNDAY

How about a little word trivia to get your day started?  (Cause I’m sure you woke up this morning worrying that you might not be getting your Recommended Daily Allowance.)

Have you ever heard someone say that they are going to “throw down the gauntlet?”  It’s an expression meaning “to issue a challenge.”  Do you know where it comes from?  According to my friends at Wikipedia, gauntlets are gloves that extend past the wrist and cover some or all of the forearm.  These days they are decorational rather functional.  But they were created to protect a person’s hand and arms during hand to hand combat.  They were constructed of various materials—leather, chain mail, or even armor.

A knight who wished to challenge someone to a duel would take one of his gauntlets and throw it to the ground before his opponent.  If his rival wished to accept the challenge, he would pick it up.

This is not to be confused with “running the gantlet/gauntlet.”  (The spellings are so prominently interchangeable now, either is acceptable.)  Running the gantlet refers to a form of execution practiced by various cultures throughout history, including the Roman legions and Iroquois Indians.  People armed with sticks and clubs form two lines facing each other.  The convicted person is then forced to walk the “alley” between the lines, receiving blows from those on either side.

Finally, there’s the expression “kid gloves.” Here it is in a sentence: “Due to his fragile state, we’re treating him with kid gloves.”  Kid gloves are ultra soft gloves made from lamb skin or the skin of a baby goat, or kid.  To treat someone with kid gloves is to go out of your way to be gentle with them.

So what does all of this have to do with today’s activities?  Today is Challenge Sunday, the day where we introduce our theme for the year in some detail.  One of our elders, Mike Dossett, and I will be sharing our hopes for this year as it pertains to our theme.

So here’s my promise to you: Today, Mike and I are going to throw down the gauntlet.  We are going to be challenging you in 2012 to allow your lives to be changed for the better by Jesus Christ.  This challenge is not to be taking lightly.  We will not be treating you with kid gloves.  At the same time, we have confidence in you.  What we’re asking is not impossible.  We are not asking you to run the gauntlet.  I hope you are as excited as I am about being transformed more into the type of person God is calling you to be.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.  All of those verbal gymnastics wore me out.

                                               -Robert

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

But Wait, There’s More!

Reese Witherspoon is currently one of Hollywood’s hottest actors.  Her turn as June Carter Cash in the movie Walk the Line earned her a Golden Globe, a BAFTA, a Screen Actors Guild Award and an Oscar for Best Actress in a Leading Role.

She has lived what seems to be a charmed life.  (I have a feeling she’d agree.)  Her father is a physician, and her mother teaches pediatric nursing at Vanderbilt University.  Before her acting career, she went to a prestigious all-girls school in Nashville. (See? On top of everything else, she’s a Tennessean.  What else could a person want?)

It might be tempting to think that Reese Witherspoon never struggles with self-doubt.  She must be impervious to criticism and incapable of turning an unfairly critical eye toward herself.  Yet look at what she had to say in a recent interview:

I don't watch any movie I'm in. It's horrifying. I'll just focus on something stupid like, "I hate my laugh. Why did I smile?" Sometimes I look at myself and think, "Dude, I have the biggest, goofiest smile on earth."

Only in very dark moments, moments of pure self-loathing, do I type my name into Google. You never read anything positive; you always go straight to where they say something nasty about you. You're fat, you're ugly, you're tired, you're worthless, you don't have a career anymore. It's just an affirmation of every horrible feeling about yourself.

I’m always a little surprised at how even the most fortunate among us can have difficulty seeing just how fortunate they are.

And then I remember that 99% of the world’s population would say the same of me.

This Sunday, we’re beginning a new series of lessons on Paul’s letter to the Colossian church. And in his introductory remarks, Paul includes a prayer that asks that the Colossians might realize how blessed they are.  Then he fills in the blanks for them.  It’s a pretty stirring list of blessings.

My prayer for us as we start the New Year is that God will help us to see how incredibly blessed we are, as well.

BACK TO THE START

Talk about optimistic.  On December 10, 1997, a Briton by the name of Alec Holden turned 90, and, to celebrate, placed a bet.  He bet the equivalent of $200 that he would live to see 100. The odds makers (whoever they were) put his chances of surviving ten more years at 250-1.  On December 10, 2007, Holden celebrated his 100^th birthday by cashing in his winnings--$50,000.

To what did he attribute his success? "You must have porridge for breakfast, that's essential. You don't worry about anything and do as little work as possible. You go on as many holidays as you can." He also said he tried to remind himself every once in a while to “keep breathing.”

According to an article in the Daily Mail, Holden received numerous birthday cards, including one from Queen Elizabeth.  A spokesperson for the company who took the bet said that they were considering pushing the age worthy of a wager to 110.  “(These age wagers are starting to cost us a fortune.)"

As we begin the New Year, I wonder, “How optimistic are you?” Are you optimistic enough to make some kind of resolution?  Would you put $200 down?  And, given your past, what kind of odds do you think you’d get that one year from now, you will have found a modicum of success?

Given my past results, if I were to place bets, I would find the odds stacked significantly against me. And yet, here I am talking about making resolutions, and encouraging you to at least consider it for yourself.  After all, there’s one thing we can bet on: God’s mercies are new every morning.  We might not be optimistic about ourselves, but God never keeps us from starting over.

This Sunday, you have a chance.  Right now, you have a chance.

                                                  -Robert

GOOD NEWS!

Good News!

Merry Christmas! First, the disclaimer that I give every year: I know that Christ probably wasn’t born this time of year.  There is absolutely no evidence to suggest that December 25 is the day of Jesus’ birth.  But the older I get the more I love celebrating the birth of Jesus in a special way this time of year.  I can’t think of a better way to bring my year to a close.  What a wonderful thing to celebrate.  Reminds me of these thoughts from Greg Asimakoupoulos:

On October 30, 2010, more than six hundred Philadelphia-area singers circulated nonchalantly among the Saturday morning shoppers in the large Macy's store in downtown Philadelphia. Dressed in street clothes, the inconspicuous singers mingled with other shoppers. Then, at exactly noon, the organist at the mall's historic Wanamaker organ (the largest pipe organ in the world) began playing the opening measures to the "Hallelujah Chorus" from Handel's Messiah.

Suddenly, the choir members, sprinkled throughout the store, started singing in full voice. The video for this event shows the amazed shoppers watching the choir giving glory to the "King of Kings and Lord of Lords."

This event, called a Random Act of Culture, was organized by the City Opera of Philadelphia. In addition to singers from the opera company, there were choristers from 28 other musical organizations.

On November 13, 2010, a similar "flash mob" performance took place in the food court of the Seaway Mall in Ontario, Canada. Shoppers who paused for a quick lunch were surprised by 80 singers from the nearby Chorus Niagara who started singing the "Hallelujah Chorus."

As I write this write this, I’m sitting outside at a Starbucks surrounded by the hustle of the last shopping days of the season.  And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if a chorus of people suddenly broke out in song.  It would certainly get our attention.  That’s a pretty good picture of what happened during the first Christmas.  A host of angels interrupt the everyday work and conversation of a bunch of rustics, out watching their sheep.  And they bring good news that will cause great joy for all the people (Luke 2).

This Sunday, I hope you’ll join me in song and celebration as we remember that good news.

FAMILY ROOTS

Back in 2004, in Sweden, a baby boy was born with one arm pointing upward, like Superman in flight.  So it only stands to reason that his parents would want to name their son after the Man of Steel.   The Swedish government disagreed, expressing concern that a child with the name Superman would be the object of ridicule.  The family responded by pointing out the inconsistency of the government’s position.  They had already allowed parents to choose the name Batman.

It’s a shame the boy wasn’t born in New Zealand.  In 2007 the Kiwi government allowed a couple to name their son Superman, but only after denying them their first choice. Pat Watson says that, when he first saw his son during an ultrasound, he finally realized that his wife’s pregnancy and his impending fatherhood were both “for real.”  So, naturally, the Watson’s chose to name their child…“4real.”

But the government forced the Watson’s to resort to their trusty fall-back name, because in New Zealand, it’s illegal to use a number when naming a child. [I can’t help but wonder which clairvoyant Kiwi MP foresaw the need for such a law.] At the time of the article’s writing, the Watson’s were undeterred.  Superman might be the name on the birth certificate, but in their minds, their boy would always be “4real.”

A lot is made of names in the Bible, especially the names of great people in Israel’s history.  This Sunday we’re going to be reading a lot of names.  Two of the four gospel writers chose to begin their version of Jesus’ story with his genealogy.  It’s usually something we preachers skip over.  But, as we prepare for Christmas, I think we might be able to learn something from the lists of names at the beginning of the gospels.

make room

The following is an excerpt from an essay by Frederick Buechner:

The foolishness of the wise is perhaps nowhere better illustrated than by the way the three Magi went to Herod the Great, King of the Jews, to find out the whereabouts of the holy child who had just been born King of the Jews to supplant him. It did not even strike them as suspicious when Herod asked them to be sure to let him know when they found him so he could hurry on down to pay his respects. Luckily for the holy child, after the three Magi had followed their star to the manger and left him their presents, they were tipped off in a dream to avoid Herod like the plague on their way home.

Herod was fit to be tied when he realized he'd been had and ordered the murder of every male child two years old and under in the district. For all his enormous power, he knew there was someone in diapers more powerful still. The wisdom of the foolish is perhaps nowhere better illustrated.

One of the things that Buechner is pointing out here is that the so-called “wise men” weren’t all that wise.  How could they have been so foolish as to go to Herod, the King of the Jews (!), and ask if he knew the whereabouts of the infant who the prophets said would replace him?  And how could these “wise” men have agreed to come back to Herod and tell the old despot where his new rival was located?

Ironically, Herod is the wise one here.  Not wise for trying to kill Jesus, but wise for recognizing Jesus as a threat.  While he might be acting diabolically, he is certainly not overreacting.  Herod has learn from his friends the Romans; the best time to take out the competition is when they’re still too helpless to defend themselves.

As we get ready to celebrate Christmas, I thought we’d start off in a bit of an unconventional way.  Instead of rejoicing at the beautiful picture of Jesus in the manger, I thought we’d try to honor the way that the Messiah has come to turn things upside down. May those of us who have ears to hear listen…

ALIVE

I’d be lying if I said this was completely intentional, but I can’t think of a better time (other than Easter) to celebrate the resurrection of Christ than on the Sunday following Thanksgiving.  Most of us have much to be thankful for.  All of us have this to be thankful for: “Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.”  This Sunday we’re going to look at just one of the reasons that Jesus’ resurrection is cause for celebration.  For now, here are some quotes for you to reflect on:

We understand and acknowledge that the Resurrection has placed a glorious crown upon all of Christ's sufferings!

--AW Tozer

Something happened on Easter Day which made Christ more alive on the streets of Jerusalem forty days after his crucifixion than on the day of His Triumphal Entry.

--Ralph Sockman

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? This is so true that even Satan cannot deny it. Christ's resurrection and victory over sin, death and hell is greater than all heaven and earth. You can never imagine his resurrection and victory so great but that in actuality it is far, far greater.

--Martin Luther

We live and die. Christ died and lived!

--John Stott

We are not to be surprised if living as Christians brings us to the place where we find we are at the end of our own resources, and that we are called to rely on the God who raises the dead.

--NT Wright

The evidence for Jesus' resurrection is so strong that nobody would question it except for two things: First, it is a very unusual event. And second, if you believe it happened, you have to change the way you live.

--Wolfhart Pannenburg

"Death used to be an executioner, but the gospel has made him just a gardener."

--George Herbert

By the way, I can’t let this Thanksgiving season go by without mentioning how thankful I am for the Norfolk Church of Christ.  Especially to those of you who work so hard to make this church what it is.  I am convinced that there is not another congregation like it anywhere.  I love to brag on all of you.    

                                                                                                                                                                                             -Robert

¹⁴ Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— ¹⁵ and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. (Hebrews 2)

TRAGIC

Miroslav Volf is a lecturer, author and theologian from Croatia who at one time altogether rejected any notion of God’s wrath.  He found God’s wrath to be incompatible with God’s love.  But when war crimes and atrocities came to his country in the ’90s, he began to see things differently.  The following excerpt comes from his book Free of Charge:

My last resistance to the idea of God's wrath was a casualty of the war in the former Yugoslavia, the region from which I come. According to some estimates, 200,000 people were killed and over 3,000,000 were displaced. My villages and cities were destroyed, my people shelled day in and day out, some of them brutalized beyond imagination, and I could not imagine God not being angry.

Or think of Rwanda in the last decade of the past century, where 800,000 people were hacked to death in one hundred days! How did God react to the carnage? By doting on the perpetrators in a grandfatherly fashion? By refusing to condemn the bloodbath but instead affirming the perpetrators' basic goodness? Wasn't God fiercely angry with them?

Though I used to complain about the indecency of the idea of God's wrath, I came to think that I would have to rebel against a God who wasn't wrathful at the sight of the world's evil. God isn't wrathful in spite of being love. God is wrathful because God is love.

This Sunday we’re going to pay further witness to the kinds of injustice and evil that warrant God’s wrath.  As these events played out 2000 years ago, they acted as further evidence of the worst that humanity is capable.  The wrongful conviction and execution of an innocent man is a tragedy.  It’s even more so when the outrage is committed against God’s anointed one, “the lamb who takes away the sins of the world.”

Before we celebrate the astonishing way that this brutality led to our salvation, we would do well to honor the tragedy of it.  We truly come to understand God’s mercy when we see the opportunity he had to express his wrath.

                                                                -Robert

⁵¹ “You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised. You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit! ⁵² Was there ever a prophet your ancestors did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— ⁵³ you who have received the law that was given through angels but have not obeyed it.” (Acts 7)

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UNDER PRESSURE

Actor Jim Caviezel, who played Jesus in the movie The Passion of the Christ, got a glimpse of Jesus’ suffering during filming. On one occasion he was struck by lightning. Another time, he dislocated his shoulder after falling while (literally) carrying his cross. He suffered sickness that was aggravated by the ever-changing weather.  While filming the scenes where Christ is flogged, the actors playing Roman soldiers accidently missed the protective board on his back, giving Caviezel real lashes.

During the filming of the crucifixion, Caviezel hung on a cross, buffeted by stiff winds. The cross swayed as much as three feet in either direction, aggravating his shoulder injury. That was when Caviezel wondered if he had made a mistake.  Caviezel says:

For the first time, I started questioning whether I had done the right thing. More important, I wondered whether it would be possible to finish the film.

I actually had the thought that this cross is killing me…. It wasn't funny at the time. I was in pain and I was freezing. Then something happened. It's hard to explain, except to say it might be what an athlete goes through when he seems to be thoroughly beaten and defeated, and then he finds the strength within him to overcome and win.

This Sunday, as we continue our journey through the Gospel of Mark, we will be entering the part of Jesus’ story referred to in the title of the movie.  We will be reminded of the Passion of Christ.  Here, passion means suffering.  And we’ll see that Christ’s suffering was not just physical; it was also spiritual and emotional.

That becomes clear as we watch Jesus pray in Gethsemane.  But the point is not just for us to watch Jesus’ suffering for the sake of seeing it.  I think we are also meant to learn from it.  In watching Jesus, and seeing who he is, even in the midst of suffering, we can learn about what it means to be followers of the Messiah.

                                                                -Robert

DOWNWARD MOBILITY

Downward Mobility

The following story and commentary come from an article on preachingtoday.com:

In November 2010, a wedding party in Glenelg, Australia, was unexpectedly called into action right after the wedding ceremony. While they were posing for pictures on a scenic ledge, a woman unrelated to the wedding fell into the water and started drowning. Dressed in his tuxedo, the best man jumped in and brought the woman back toward shore. Then the bride, a trained nurse, waded into the water and started administering CPR. By the time the Surf Life Saving volunteers had arrived, the woman had regained consciousness. But according to one safety official, "[The victim] was very lucky that the bridal party was there and they acted quickly and got her to the shallows." After the daring rescue operation, the drenched but heroic best man and the bride happily rejoined the wedding reception and continued with the festivities.

In some ways, this unusual event serves as a great image for the calling of every local church: we're dressed up for a party (celebrating worship), but at the same time we're also prepared to dive into mission, even when it's inconvenient and dangerous. Worship and mission, loving God and loving others, praising and serving—these combinations aren't opposites; they form the dual nature of our calling as the church.

This Sunday we’re going to be looking at a passage from Mark 9 that encourages us to do the same things—let our agendas go, be watchful for opportunities to serve others, take risks for others.

Scripture is saturated with the call to service.  Second only to faith in Christ, I’d say it’s a primary identifying characteristic of the follower of Christ.  (And it might be said that the two are just two sides of the same coin; you can’t really talk about one without the other.)

My challenge to you is this: Who is someone you can serve today?  How can you serve someone today like Christ would serve them?

REMEMBRANCE

The following is an excerpt from a sermon by Bill Hybels called “A Better Kind of Grieving”:

Here is society's approach to grief management. John James and Frank Cherry, in their book on grief recovery, trace the story of a boy named Johnny. When five-year-old Johnny's dog dies, Johnny is stunned, and he bursts out crying. His dog was his constant companion; it slept at the foot of his bed. Now the dog is gone, and little Johnny's a basket case.

Johnny's dad stammers a bit and says, "Uh, don't feel bad, Johnny, we'll get you a new dog Saturday." In that one sentence, Johnny's dad is really offering the first two steps in society's grief management program: Bury your feelings; replace your losses.

Later when Johnny falls in love with a high school freshman girl the world never looked brighter, until she dumps him. Suddenly a curtain covers the sun. Johnny's heart is broken, and this time it's big time hurt…

…But mom comes to the rescue this time and says with great sensitivity, "Don't feel bad, John, there are other fish in the sea." Bury the pain, replace the loss.

Much later, John's grandfather dies--the one he fished with every summer and felt close to…When John's father brought him home from school, John saw his mother weeping in the living room, and he wanted to embrace her and cry with her. But his dad said, "Don't disturb her, John, she needs to be alone. She'll be all right in a little while. Then the two of you can talk…”

Let's review. Bury your feelings; replace your losses; grieve alone; let time heal; live with regret; never trust again. How does that sound? It sounds familiar. It's been society's approach for years.

For the record that’s not how the people of the Bible did it.  Their grief was vocal, unashamed and corporate.  Mourning was done for everyone to see. This Sunday we’re going to be remembering the attacks that took place on 9/11/01.  I hope that you won’t shy away.  It’s not pleasant to grieve.  But it can be good.  Real grief is what leads to real redemption and real joy.  They all go together.  And in spite of the tragedy, there is much to be joyful about.

                                                         -Robert

OPEN HEART SURGERY

Open Heart Surgery

The following is an excerpt from an AP report dated May 18, 1998:

Shot while playing basketball just steps away from a hospital, a 15-year-old boy lay bleeding to death in an alley as emergency room workers refused to treat him, saying it was against policy to go outside.

About 30 minutes after the shooting Saturday, a frustrated police officer finally commandeered a wheelchair and brought the boy in himself, but it was too late.

A bullet had perforated Christopher Sercye's aorta, and he died about an hour after he was brought into Ravenswood Hospital.

Friends, neighbors and police officers had pleaded with the ER staff to come out and treat him. Several people also called for an ambulance, but none had arrived after more than 20 minutes, police said. One showed up after the officer took Christopher inside…

… Three teens who prosecutors said have gang affiliations were charged with first-degree murder in the shooting. Christopher was described as an innocent bystander.

Five years later, the hospital would pay a $12.5 million settlement in response to a suit brought by Sercye’s family.

In fairness, I can think of a couple of scenarios that would necessitate a general policy prohibiting hospital staff from operating outside of the hospital.  But I can’t conceive of any that would keep them from coming out and taking the boy inside and offering whatever treatment was possible.  Sounds like a case of missing the forest for the trees.

This Sunday we’re going to see how Jesus responds when he encounters similarly blind legalism among the Pharisees.  And the legalism in Mark 7 is actually worse, because the Pharisees are intentionally employing legalism to fatten their own wallets.

Instead of blindly following rules, Jesus shows us another way to live.

Disciple See, Disciple Do

In an article for Leadership Journal, John Ortberg relays the story of the “Three Christs of Ypsilanti” from the book of the same name by Psychiatrist Milton Rokeach.  Each man was suffering from delusions of grandeur.  Each one believed himself to be the Messiah, the savior of humanity.  Given how deeply these delusions were entrenched, Rokeach had very little success in helping his clients recognize reality. 

But his efforts were not completely without success.  Rokeach realized the most progress when he got the three men together.  His hope was that each one, when confronted with the reality of a competing messiah, would be forced to reexamine his own identity. Ortberg notes:

This led to some interesting conversations. One would claim, "I'm the messiah, the Son of God. I was sent here to save the earth."

"How do you know?" Rokeach would ask in response.

“God told me.”

But then one of the other patients would counter, "I never told you any such thing."

Even this particular strategy met with very limited success.  But it did help.  A competing claim to the identity of Christ at least gave each man reason to pause and rethink things. 

It could be said that you and I suffer from the same affliction as the three Christs of Ypsilanti.  It’s just a matter of degree.  We are also capable of deluding ourselves to the point that we think should be in charge.  We all make some veiled claim of messiahship.

And like the three men in the study, we are freed from any such false claim when confronted by the real thing.  We can’t come into contact with God and continue to think that we ourselves are the ones in charge.  God (mostly gently, sometimes not) relieves us of our blindness.  Hopefully this will put us back in the position for which we are best suited.  We can stop being the leaders and we can start being the followers.  God has need of only one Messiah.  And he has performed his job more than adequately.  Now he’s looking for people to do what he did.

In this Sunday’s passage, we’re going to see how Jesus commissions his disciples to go out on their own missions.  What’s important to note, though, is that they don’t have to reinvent the wheel.  All they have to do is imitate Christ.  The same goes for us.

A LITTLE EFFORT

 The following is an excerpt from Max Lucado’s

The Cure for the Common Life:  

The bank sent me an overdraft notice on the checking account of one of my daughters. I encourage my college-age girls to monitor their accounts. Even so, they sometimes overspend. What should I do? Send her an angry letter? Admonition might help her later, but it won't satisfy the bank. Phone and tell her to make a deposit? Might as well tell a fish to fly. I know her liquidity. Zero. Transfer the money from my account to hers? Seemed to be the best option. After all, I had $25.37. I could replenish her account and pay the overdraft fee as well. Since she calls me Dad, I did what dads do. I covered my daughter's mistake.  When I told her she was overdrawn, she said she was sorry. Still, she offered no deposit. She was broke. She had one option, "Dad, could you…" "Honey," I interrupted, "I already have." I met her need before she knew she had one.  Long before you knew you needed grace, your Father did the same. He made an ample deposit. Before you knew you needed a Savior, you had one. And when you ask him for mercy, he answers, "Dear child. I've already given it."

I sometimes find myself wondering what it would be like to have so much money that there would be no way of running out of it in one lifetime.  What would it be like to have more money than you could spend? (Of course, I probably have that now if I could adjust the way I live, but that’s another sermon.)

The point I’m trying to make is that we have an opportunity to experience that kind of spiritual wealth.  We have a God who has provided “more than all we can ask or imagine” (Eph. 3:20), who has “given us everything we need” (2 Peter 1:3).  We have more grace and mercy and providence than we know what to do with.

The question for us is: are we living that way?  Are we living the good life that God is calling us to live?  Or are we still laboring with great difficulty in the Kingdom of God.  I often think we make it harder than it is…

                                                                    — Robert