The Heart of the Matter

A sermon written and preached by the Reverend Scott D. Nowack on April 29, 2012

at First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas.

The Heart of the Matter

1 John 3:16-24

              I have learned over the course of my life that there are certain things I was not created to do with any level of competency.  This was especially true with sports.  In seventh grade gym class, we were introduced to the game of field hockey.  Our teacher explained the rules of the game and how to play.  With a field hockey stick in my hand, I found myself at midfield about to receive the opening pass from center.  The whistle blew and I began to move the ball down the field.  Somehow, someway, I was doing pretty well with this field hockey thing.  I passed everyone carefully controlling the ball with my stick.  Suddenly, just a short distance in front of me, I saw the goal.  As I prepared to take my shot, I tripped, fell flat on my face and lost the ball.  Turns out that little run was the highlight of my field hockey career.  It was all downhill from there.  As hard as I tried, I never became proficient at the sport.  I confess to you today that I am a mediocre field hockey player. 

            The same level of mediocrity came to be when I tried playing other sports like football, baseball, soccer, swimming, golf, and basketball.  My point is this: I could play all these sports, but I could not play any of them really well, that is, with excellence.  There hasn’t been a single sport at which I excelled.  I wallow in the deep valley of athletic mediocrity.

            It’s the same with the ministry and work of the church.  The church at large has a tendency to spread itself too thin doing things that the church doesn’t need to do.  The church gives a little bit here and there, but often fails to focus on doing one or two things really well.  We throw our hats into so many different rings that we aren’t effective in any one of them.  We lose sight of whom we truly are; who God created us to be.  As Christians, we need to focus our energy, enthusiasm and efforts on our core purpose, our true calling: to love one another.

You know, losing sight of who we are and what we’re called to do is easy in the hectic days we live in today.  How would you complete the sentence: “You know you’re living in the year 2012 when…”  I have a list of eleven endings to this sentence:

You know you’re living in the year 2012 when…
1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.
2. You haven’t played solitaire with real cards in years.
3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.
4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.
5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that you regularly lose your phone along with everybody’s phone numbers and email addresses.
6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.
8. Every commercial on television has a Web site and a Twitter address on the screen.
9. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn’t have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.
10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.
11. You are too busy to notice there was no #7 on this list.

Our busyness and hectic lives pull us away from what we are all about as Christian disciples.  Let us use our time to do what Jesus wants us to do, and do it incredibly well.

The first letter of John makes clear that our core purpose as Christians is to love one another. We see this love in what Jesus did for us, when he laid down his life for us, and we act on this knowledge when we lay down our lives for one another (1 John 3:16). The sacrificial love of Jesus is more than a nice idea and a noble concept.  It is, in fact, a pattern of behavior that is supposed to be displayed by us in action.  How does God’s love abide in anyone, asks John, who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? (3:17).

Short answer: It doesn’t. God’s love lives in those who see a need around them and try to fill it.

New Testament scholar Clarence Jordan captured the concreteness of this everyday love and compassionate assistance when he translated his Cotton Patch Version of 1 John 3:18:  “My little ones, let’s not talk about love. Let’s not sing about love. Let’s put love into action and make it real.”  That’s what John is talking about when he challenges us to love one another.

So why is it so hard for us?   

I think it is fair to say that most of us find it easier to argue with our political opponents than to love and understand them.  I think it is fair to say that most people are more comfortable taking a stand on abortion than taking care of a woman with a problem pregnancy.  I think it is fair to say most of us would rather write a check to a homeless shelter than spend an evening providing job counseling to a person on the streets.  Most of us find it so much simpler to define our religious duty in terms of attending church and making offerings, rather than doing the complicated and challenging work of feeding the hungry, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting the imprisoned.  Just as faith without works is dead, so it is with our love for one another.

The president of Compassion International, Wes Stafford, gave a great quote in the November 2005 issue of Christianity Today challenging the universal church with one way we can put love into action.  He says, “When churches understand the complexity of poverty and the spiritual battle at hand, the best place to start is small — with children.  Providing education gives a child practical knowledge and vision. Health care keeps them strong and growing. Social care enables them to play and relate to others in a safe environment. Salvation speaks to their priceless worth in the eyes of their Creator. Worth breeds hope, hope encourages effort, and effort leads to success and confidence. A life can be built on that foundation.”

Our world is in desperate need of a church that puts love into action and makes it real; a church that recognizes the spiritual battle in the hearts and minds of people in our society and rises up to meet it.  There are people all around us who are searching desperately and yearning for a community that practices what it preaches; a community that talks the talk and walks the walk of God’s love for all; a community that looks out for one another, cares for one another, prays for one another and eager to serve one another with the love of God.

For many years, UCLA basketball coach John Wooden defined team spirit as “the willingness to sacrifice personal interest or glory for the welfare of others.”

But something was not quite right to the coach about this definition. And one day it dawned on him what it was. It’s not the willingness, but the eagerness to sacrifice personal interest for the sake of all that truly defines team spirit. This spirit of eagerness, of excitement and possibility, is what we are called to display as we strive to love one another. If we are not excited about our lives in Christ how can we expect anyone else to catch fire?

Over 100 years ago, the Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard made the point that Jesus was looking for followers, not admirers; he wanted people who would walk with him, do his work, and serve in his name.

One of Kierkegaard’s own parables told of a man who was walking down a city street when he saw a big sign in a window that said, “Pants pressed here”.  Delighted to see the sign, he went home and gathered up all of his wrinkled laundry. He carried it into the shop and put it on the counter.

“What are you doing?” the shopkeeper demanded.

“I brought my clothes here to be pressed,” said the man, “just like your sign said.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong,” the owner said. “We don’t actually do that here. We’re in the business of making signs.”  We don’t do these things, he was saying. We just talk about them.

And that, said Soren Kierkegaard, is often the problem in the church. We advertise ourselves as a place that is showing Christ’s love and doing Christ’s work.  But when people show up looking for real love and real Christian action, they don’t see it.  “Oh, no, we don’t love people here. We just talk about loving people here.”

If we are going to advertise God’s love, let’s practice God’s love.  Forget the political bickering and posturing!  Put aside the procedural menusha that bogs us down!  It’s time to reflect and act upon the core purposes we have as Christians: the abilities to believe in Jesus Christ and love one another.  And everything else will fall into place.

We, the church, need to get down to the heart of the matter: loving others in truth and action.  Let’s take a magnify glass, to find our calling and then carefully focus our energy and resources on the need that arises.  We can’t afford to spread ourselves too thin anymore.  Let’s find our niche, our calling, what God wants us to do; because we don’t want to become mediocre field hockey players.  Amen.

           

Easter Sunday: Back Where It All Began

A sermon written and preached by the Reverend Scott D. Nowack on Easter Sunday, April 8, 2012

at First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas.

Back Where It All Began

I Corinthians 15:1-11

John 20:1-18

One of my favorite speakers and preachers is Dr. Tony Campolo.  I had the pleasure to hear him preach at a presbytery meeting in Philadelphia a year or so ago.  To say he is very engaging and charismatic would be an understatement.  Tony has a powerful gift for storytelling that is both entertaining, intelligent and convicting.  Dr.  Campolo tells the story of a little preaching competition that he had with his pastor during services at the church where he attends in West Philadelphia. Dr. Campolo tells how he preached the perfect sermon, perfect in every way. He had taken the congregation to the heights of glory and the depths of despair. And as he sat down beside his pastor, Dr. Campolo patted him on the knee and simply said, “Top that.” The older black pastor looked at him and said, “Boy, watch the master.”

It was a simple sermon, starting softly; building in volume and intensity until the entire congregation was completely involved, repeating the phrases in unison. The sermon went something like this.

It’s Friday. Jesus is praying.  The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord and they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

By the end of the message the old preacher was simply calling out, “It’s Friday” and whole congregation was responding, “Sunday’s coming!”

Well, Sunday is here.  Sunday is here and we come together in this holy place before the powers of darkness and evil to say to the darkness that there is no scheme, plan, or operation; there is nothing you can do to separate us from the love of God in the resurrected Jesus. 

It’s been a long week.  We’ve been through a long season that has brought us to this time and place on this glorious Easter morning. 

Just a few days ago, it looked like all hope for the world was lost.  Just a few days ago, it appeared that evil had won; evil had gained a victory over all creation.  Just a few days ago, it appeared to us that the Lord Jesus, who lived and dwelled among us, was defeated, conquered, vanquished and crushed; all our faith and hope all for nothing. 

The hours felt like days since Friday.  Is this the end?  Has our savior Jesus finally met his match?  Is the strife over?  Will the battle ever be won? 

But the story doesn’t end this way.  The story of Jesus Christ does not conclude on Friday.  To fully understand the significance and importance of Easter, we must go to the beginning, to where it all began.

It’s when you look back over the experiences and memories of your life that you gain perspective on what led you, what guided you to this point in time.  The events and experiences of our lives don’t always make sense to us while they happen.  As a kid in school, learning how to spell correctly, to write properly and do math accurately seemed pointless at the time.  Why do I have to learn all this?  I didn’t understand the cumulative effect of the years of learning, from grade school to middle school, to high school, college and graduate school until after it was over and, looking back over those experiences, realizing how each step along the way led to another step, and another, and another and so on.

The disciples didn’t get it.  They didn’t fully understand what Jesus was saying through his parables, his teachings and his miracles.  They thought they did, but it was only after the events of Easter that they put all the pieces of the puzzle together.  They were finally able to connect the dots because of the resurrection of Jesus.

And this is how the Gospels were written.  Jesus didn’t have a personal publicist or somebody to record every move he made, every step he took, every event, every teaching, every miracle he did.  The gospels of Jesus, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, are written long after Jesus.  These writers take the collective memory of those who followed him and knew him, write it down and try to make sense of it all.  It’s the resurrection of Jesus that is the crowning moment of Jesus’ ministry and God’s action on earth.  It’s the starting point for all the gospel writers.

Resurrection is what makes forever possible!

This is the "good news" that Paul wants to convey to the Corinthians in this famous resurrection chapter. The good news of Jesus' resurrection is the hope upon which they should "stand" (15:1) and through which they are "saved" (v. 2). The core of Paul's preaching and work was centered on the central fact of the resurrection of Jesus, who "died for our sins ... was buried ... raised on the third day ... in accordance with the scriptures" (vv. 3-4) Paul's three-fold use of that phrase "in accordance with the scriptures" indicates something significant.  It serves as the record of what had happened on Easter morning and that it wasn't just a random posting of a snapshot of God's work, but the culmination of a story that had been moving this way from the beginning of human history:

- Jesus himself didn't leave his own paper trail, let alone a digital life.

- To our knowledge, Jesus never wrote a book or even a letter, and yet more books have been written about him than any other person in history.

- He didn't write down his sermons, and yet his followers thought they were important enough to preserve every word.

- He never blogged, but he is the subject of many blogs.

- He never friended anyone on Facebook, and yet he was a friend to everyone, especially the broken and the outcast.

The story of Jesus thus isn't one that's just preserved in print, it's preserved even more so in his own nail-scarred, resurrected body. The empty tomb stands as God's ultimate last word on human suffering and death. As God raised Jesus from the dead, the promise is that we, too, will be raised to a new life in a renewed world where we'll not only be remembered, but see Jesus and each other face to face -- no Facebook required. Our joy won't be restricted to 140 characters. We won't need to preserve our words because we will see the Word that became flesh. There will be no need for last words because death will be no more.

With our salvation secure, how do we live in the present day?  We have the opportunity to create a different kind of legacy that will last long after us and into the time when Christ comes again to make his kingdom a reality.  The kingdom puts our lives in the context of God’s larger purposes, in line with his will.  By doing so, our lives are placed into the context of God’s larger purposes and perspectives.  We may not be remembered as individuals many generations from now, but the legacy of what we do for the kingdom of God will last.  Leaving behind words and material things is good, but a legacy to leave behind is to make the world look more and more like the kingdom of God, so that when it comes, it’s not such a shock to our senses!

If we are really following Christ, then we know the true legacy we leave for the next generation should reflect Christ’s own work and ministry.  Every time we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the hurting, stand with the oppressed and the outcast, fight injustice, and give our lives with humility and passion in sacrificial service to others, we are building a legacy that will last well beyond us.  It’s Sunday…new life’s a-comin’. 

When we not only digest the words of Jesus, but actually do what he did, we’re living the resurrection in the here and now.  When you help out a friend with financial assistance in their time of need, you are living the resurrection life.  When you wake up early on a Saturday morning to prepare, serve or deliver meals for over 150 people with your Saturday Bread team, you are living the resurrection life.  When you believe God has placed a calling on your heart to bring together the blacks and whites of Kilgore, Texas to build up our community, you are living the resurrection life.  When you serve your church unselfishly, when you see a need and try to fill it, when you work above and beyond your written job description because you believe in the power of God, you are living the resurrection life.  When you love your spouse with all that you have, when you set before your children the living example of what it means to be a disciple of Christ, you are living the resurrection life. 

The legacy we receive from the Apostle Paul is we are to be vested in people and show them the resurrection life in the present.  Easter allows us to have this long term view of life that goes way beyond death.  Jesus did not fade away into dead space or outer space or cyberspace, and neither will those who follow him.

My friends, it’s Sunday because Friday has come.  It’s Sunday because Friday has come.  Amen.

Maundy Thursday: Fast Food Frenzy

A sermon written and preached by the Reverend Scott D. Nowack on April 5, 2012

at the First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas.

Fast Food Frenzy

Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14

Once upon a time there was a family, torn apart by conflict, who sought out the services of a family therapist. Even in the therapist's office, they kept sniping at one another. The father was distant, the mother complained of how she got no respect, the teenage son slouched moodily in a chair and the young daughter dissolved into tears every time the others raised their voices.

Desperate to make headway with this dysfunctional bunch, the therapist decided on a simple intervention. "I have just one prescription for you," she said. "I want you all to sit down together every night and eat dinner together. Nobody rushes out. You all stay at the table until everyone is finished. And I want you to start the meal by holding hands around the table and saying grace."

"We're too busy," said the mother.
"I hate cooking dinner," complained the father.
"We're not even religious," sneered the son. "How phony would that be?"
"I'm afraid to," objected the daughter. "We'll just fight."

But the therapist held her ground. When the family objected that they didn't know any graces, she told them to just say, "God is great, God is good, and we thank God for this food."

The father spoke up next. "You mean to tell us that, for a hundred dollars an hour, that's the only advice you have for us?"

"That's it," said the therapist. "Trust me on this one."  Skeptical as they were, the family agreed to give it a try.

On the return visit, the therapist began by asking how things were going. To everyone's surprise, the sullen teenage son spoke up first. Still looking down at the carpet, but with an unfamiliar smile on his face, he replied: "This is the best thing we've ever done. Now, at least I know I can see my dad once a day."

The family had a lot of work ahead of them, but the shared meal was the first step. In every culture, it is a powerful symbol of unity, understanding and peace.

The Old Testament reading lays out the details of a special shared meal and in turn narrates the first fast food meal in the Bible: the Passover -- the last meal for the Israelites before their redemption. The people of Israel were told to be ready to run, to be prepared for whatever would happen.  They were taught to eat with their loins girded, their sandals on their feet and their staffs in their hands, for the Passover meal was not to be an occasion for mourning, but nourishment for a journey to their new lives. Their impending departure from slavery in Egypt was not some kind of general "liberation" that dumped them out on their own, but a release from the tyranny of Pharaoh to live under the life-giving reign of God.

This is not a one-time event.  The text today spells out clearly that the Passover ritual was not just for the first Passover in Egypt, but for the ongoing annual observance of it.  The reenactment of such an event is as salvific as the original enactment.  It is an entering into the reality of that event in such a way as to be reconstituted as the people of God.  There is a distinction that can be drawn here: between redemption as memory and redemption as hope.  It’s not between the past and the future, but between the past and the present. 

How does the salvific effect of a past event be made real in every new present, every time it is reconstituted?  The very liturgy used in reenacting the Passover is structured into the very story of the past redemptive Passover event.  It is in the context of worship that the power of the original event comes alive again in the present time through God’s redeeming activity.

Every time the Passover is celebrated, the actual participants are directly integrated into the celebration of the redemptive event: God brought us out of Egypt.  When we participate in the Passover or the Lord’s Supper, we are characters embedded in the fabric of the original event remembered and celebrated.  Understanding what the Passover is and its background is important for our understanding of the Jesus’ death and the Lord’s Supper. 

The Lord’s Supper was literally Jesus' final meal before dying. Jesus implied that very thing when, at the start of the meal, he said to his disciples, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God" (Luke 22:15-16, NIV). At the same time, the Last Supper had a lot more than a menu in common with the first Passover, where that meal was the prelude not to death for the Israelites, but to God's new redemptive work on their behalf.

The new meal, which we rightly call the Lord's supper, not the Last Supper, is a foretaste of the banquet of God's kingdom to come.

Thus the Lord's Supper "scans the whole story of redemption in Christ and rehearses for believers the true scope and setting of the life they are called to live together." That means that although Paul says the eating of the bread and the drinking from the cup "proclaim[s] the Lord's death until he comes," it's not just his death that's the center of the story, but also his message and the redemption he offers. Just as the Passover embraces redemption both as memory and hope, so does the Lord's supper.

It's inevitable, of course, as we receive communion on this eve before Good Friday, that we will remember Jesus' death, but it's not so we can mourn; it's so we can live with our eyes keenly focused on the full redemption that Jesus brings.

The Lord’s Supper: may our celebration of this holy meal serve as a powerful symbol of unity, understanding and peace.  The Lord’s Supper: it’s not a meal to die for, but one to live by.

Palm Sunday: The Triumphal Entry

A sermon preached by The Reverend Scott Dennis Nowack on April 1, 2012

at the First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas

Palm Sunday: “The Triumphal Entry”

Psalm 118:1-2; 19-29

Mark 11:1-11

            “You can’t always get what you want”, sang Mick Jaggar on my car radio recently.  “But if you try sometimes, you just might find.  You get what you need.”  Oh yeah!  I’m not a big fan of the Rolling Stones, but I always liked this song because of these words.  “You can’t always get what you want…you get what you need.”  These words are filled with irony.  We think we know what we want, but how often do we find ourselves a bit mixed up, walking in someone else’s sleep, somewhat confused, having slipped off-track somewhere?  We think we know what we want, but through the reality checks life throws our way, we come to learn that all too often what we think we want is an illusion; an illusion that God breaks apart to give us a clear vision of what is real; a clear vision leading us to what we are called to obey and follow as his disciples.

            The events of Palm Sunday are saturated with irony.  The first bit of irony we notice is the very fact that Jesus makes a triumphal entry into Jerusalem like a king would returning home from victory in battle or as a modern day sports celebrity that just led their team to winning the Super Bowl.  People line the street with their cloaks.  They spread them out along the road along with leafy branches to pave the way for the expected arrival of the Messiah of God.  To be this open and public about himself and his identity is totally out of character for Jesus.  During his whole ministry, whenever he performed a miracle or healed someone, he told people not to tell anybody about his miraculous power and identity as the Messiah.  But here he does and does so in a very public way.

            For this moment in time Jesus is very popular, riding high in the public opinion polls.  In the eyes of the public, Jesus is viewed as the Messiah because this was the way the prophets proclaimed the Messiah would one day enter the royal city. 

            The second bit of irony involves the crowds who lined the road Jesus travelled that day.  They cheer and yell the words written in Psalm 118: “the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”  The psalm calls God’s people to celebrate God’s presence with us and to have a joyful celebration.  Yet even here the cross of Jesus cannot be forgotten.  The stone that God has chosen as the “chief cornerstone” has been rejected by others and all who have read the story through to its conclusion know that these evil voices still lurk nearby in their attempt to make this rejection permanent. 

But to what or to whom is the psalmist referring to as “the chief cornerstone”?  What logical connection is the psalmist trying to make here and from what building has this rejected stone become the chief cornerstone?  There is not clear answer, but one thing seems clear.  The New Testament writers could think of no one to whom these lines applied more appropriately than the about-to-be-rejected Jesus, who becomes the adored and reigning risen Christ.

When you get right down to it, it is the genuine, transformative power of God we are celebrating today and in the days ahead.  It’s at the heart and core of our lessons today.  The power of God is what is on display here.  It is a power that shatters all human expectations, especially of those who witnessed these events first hand.  It is this power that turns the world as we know it upside down; the power that changes the game; the power that humbles the exalted and exalts the lowly and downtrodden of the world.

The Jesus the people wanted and welcomed is not the Jesus they in fact get.  The people want a teacher, a leader who will say what they want to hear and in ways that are pretty and soothing.  They are looking for a warrior, a great defender, a king who would protect and preserve their interests; a king who resurrect the kingdom of David and throw out the Roman occuppiers. The kingdom they prepare to receive in our New Testament text is not a kingdom for which they are prepared.

God works by a different set of rules and guidelines than our world does.  Our God in Jesus Christ is the champion for the lost, the oppressed, and the downtrodden.  Christ is the champion for individuals ignored, shunned, disrespected, and trampled on; for the outcasts who eventually become the key person to solve a problem, meet a challenge, to change the world.

King David was not who his contemporaries viewed as someone who is qualified to be king.  He was too young, too small, no real experience, no qualifications.  He was the youngest and smallest of his brothers.  He was not considered to be old enough or big enough to take on Goliath and be a part of the Israelite army.  When given the chance, he was faithful to God and depended on Him to give him the strength and the courage need to slay Goliath and later be the most highly acclaimed king in the history of Israel.

Perhaps you’ve heard about a young man named Jeremy Lin in the news a few months ago.  After receiving no athletic scholarship offers out of high school and being undrafted out of college, the 2010 Harvard University graduate reached a partially guaranteed contract deal later that year with the Golden State Warriors of the NBA.  He seldom played his rookie year and was eventually released by the Warriors and later the Houston Rockets before landing with the New York Knicks.  He played sparingly through the beginning of a strike-shortened season.  Then the Knicks considered releasing Lin before his contract became guaranteed this past February 10^th, so they could sign a new player. However, after the Knicks squandered a fourth quarter lead in a February 3 loss to the Boston Celtics, Coach Mike D'Antoni decided to give Lin a chance to play due to "desperation".

"He got lucky because we were playing so bad," said Coach D'Antoni.  Lin had played only 55 minutes through the Knicks' first 23 games, but he surprised everyone turning around an 8–15 Knicks team that had lost 11 of its last 13 games.

On February 4, Lin had 25 points, five rebounds, and seven assists—all career-highs—in a 99–92 Knicks victory over the New Jersey Nets. Teammate Carmelo Anthony suggested to Coach Mike D'Antoni at halftime that Lin should play more in the second half.  After the game, Coach D'Antoni said Lin has a point-guard mentality and "a rhyme and a reason for what he is doing out there.”  Lin has turned the Knicks from zeros to heroes in just a couple of months.  Through his strong faith in God, he has persevered through all the rejection and the odds stacked against him.  The Jeremy Lin the college and NBA scouts ignored and rejected has become the starting point guard, the chief cornerstone, for the New York Knicks this season. Lin credits his success with the Knicks to his faith in Christ, a faith that allowed him to place everything, his fears and insecurities, in God’s hands. 

Christ is present in the world as the one contradicted and rejected by every way that we go about building our world.  The risen Christ is not the acceptable Christ; rather, it is in all the ways that he differs from us that he calls us to the transformations of repentance that answer God’s deed in him.  The marvelous thing is that the one whom our human instincts and wisdom reject, God has nonetheless, in spite of us and for our salvation, made the chief cornerstone.