King of Kings and Lord of Lords

2 Samuel 23:1-7

I was a history/government major in college.  I enjoyed learning about the great men and women of the past who achieved great feats and accomplishments.  Feats and accomplishments that have lived on through time long after these men and women lived and breathed on earth.  From former Presidents to social activists, from former ministers to ingenious inventors, they all have left a mark, that is, a legacy that we remember and honor. 

Reflect for a moment on what kind of legacy you want to leave.  What will be the legacy of your life?

Thomas Edison left us a legacy of inventions from the light bulb to the telephone to the phonograph and more.  These inventions continue to make an indelible mark on our culture in ways to numerous to name.  Sam Naismith gave us the game of basketball.  Albert Einstein left us E=mc2.  Mother Teresa started a mission to the poor and destitute of Calcutta, India, that has impacted millions of people for the better to this very day.  Through the faithful commitments all of us have made to our church, we will leave a legacy to our children and future generations.

Throughout the Bible, we read of the legacy left by Abraham, Jacob and Joseph as well as Moses, Joshua, Ruth, Esther and many others.  I just read about the legacy of King David.  Through our scripture reading this morning, we learn of the legacy David left to the people of Israel and his successors.   His legacy consists of two things: his psalms and his kingship.  His psalms have “brought comfort and inspiration to all the generations since his time.  The Psalms have been more widely used in Christian worship than any other part of the Old Testament.”(Daily Study Bible Series, II Samuel, p.271)  The legacy of David’s kingship made an impact on two fronts.  On a secular level, his leadership led Israel into period of economic prosperity and political might.  On a spiritual level, he developed new religious practices such as moving the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem.  David also recognized that all he and the Israelites possessed were gifts and blessings from God. 

David’s legacy leads us forward into the future.  It gives us an imperfect glimpse of what perfect leadership could achieve.  This perfect leadership is described for us in verse four as the “morning sunshine” and “rainfall”.  Sunshine and rain are life-giving gifts from our Creator necessary for sustaining life on earth.  They are two things working quietly yet constantly all around us.  King David, one anointed by God, was one who worked quietly, constantly and tirelessly for the common good of all his people during his reign as king.  It’s the kind of leadership so badly needed in our society today, and yet it is in such short supply.

Each of us has the potential to leave a legacy for future generations.  Whether it is a charitable gift, passing down a family heirloom, or raising children, like King David we can leave our mark on the fabric of our culture and world.  It’s not easy to do because it forces us to think about people, places and things outside of ourselves.  The needs of others begin to be in sync with our regular activities and routines.  We leave our mark, our legacy, in every moment of every day.  Whether it is opening a door for someone or inventing a cure for a deadly disease, we have the power and influence to make an impression, a mark on others, a legacy that has the potential to alter the course of history. 

You may be familiar with the work of Louis Pasteur.  Pasteur was the pioneer of immunology.  He lived at a time when thousands of people died each year of rabies.  Pasteur had worked for years on a vaccine.  Just as he was about to begin experimenting on himself, a nine-year-old, Joseph Meister, was bitten by a rabid dog.  The boy’s mother begged Pasteur to experiment on her son.  Pasteur injected Joseph for ten days – and the boy lived.  Decades later; of all the things Pasteur could have had etched on his headstone, he asked for three words: Joseph Meister Lived.  Our greatest legacy will be those who live eternally because of our efforts.

As Christians, through the Holy Spirit, we have power and influence in all we say and do upon the people around us.  As Christians, we confess to the legacy left to us by God through the work of Christ Jesus.  This legacy is the Good News, the Gospel message, the truth of God’s great love for all people.  This is the legacy we share as Christians and it is the same legacy we are commanded to take out into the world.  It’s a legacy that has changed the course of history and continues to hold that same power and influence today, if we are willing to put our faith, our belief, our whole selves on the line each and every day. 

But we can’t do it alone.  We need one another and most importantly we need God.  A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and a shiny, red plastic shovel.  In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox. The little boy dug around the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With no little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy and the rock was very large.) When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox, however, he found that he couldn’t roll it up and over the little wall.

Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into the sandbox. The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, shoved—but his only reward was to have the rock roll back, smashing his chubby fingers. Finally he burst into tears of frustration.

All this time the boy’s father watched from the living room window as the drama unfolded. At the moment the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and the sandbox. It was the boy’s father. Gently but firmly he said, “Son, why didn’t you use all the strength that you had available?”

Defeated, the boy sobbed back, “But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the strength that I had!” 

“No, son,” corrected the father kindly. “You didn’t use all the strength you had. You didn’t ask me.”

With that the father reached down, picked up the rock, and removed it from the sandbox.

It is only with God’s help that we can influence and change the world around us.  Through our obedience of God’s calling on our lives, we can be like “the sun rising on a cloudless morning or a gleaming from the rain on the grassy land” (II Samuel 23:4), leaving a legacy on earth that points toward the loving, gracious God of the universe.

You and I are capable of doing great things no matter who you are.  You and I can be the next great men and women of history who achieved great feats and accomplishments and left their mark, their legacy on our world.  

To do that, you must seize your divine moment, the moment when you can have a lasting impact on the lives of others.  We make this happen most effectively when we share the Gospel of Christ Jesus in all we say and do.  From loving our neighbor as ourselves to working for justice for those who are oppressed, impoverished and persecuted around the world.  From showing kindness and compassion to one another to teaching our children the Christian faith, we can leave a legacy and make a difference in the name of Christ. 

As King David ruled the Israelites with justice and reverence for God, so we must carry ourselves in the same way allowing God in Christ Jesus to be the king of kings and the lord of lords of our lives.  Then we will have the power and influence to make the kingdom of God a reality on earth.  I pray that we would be the morning sunshine and the healing rain for a dark and hurting world leaving a legacy of hope and faith for generations to come.  The opportunities abound, the needs are great.  You are needed.  

What will your legacy be?

Parenting with Total Dedication

1 Samuel 1:4-20

One year there was a terrible flood that deluged a small mid-western town located in a valley between two rivers. Both rivers had overflowed their banks and the rains continued to fall day and night. There was no relief in sight as the town slowly flooded. Everyone was evacuated, except for one old man who refused to leave his house—which would soon become completely submerged.

“I have faith that God will save me,” the old man shouted at everyone who implored him to leave and flee to higher ground. The man believed in the power of prayer, and he trusted that God would somehow save him.

As the water covered the roads, making them impassable for cars, a man in a four-wheel-drive truck stopped at the old man’s house and banged on the door. “Hurry,” he cried out. “Come with me and I’ll drive you to safety! You haven’t much time!” But the old man continued to pray. He would not leave his house.

Within hours, the water had risen several feet, completely flooding his home. The rain continued. The old man climbed up on the kitchen table and continued to pray. As the water was lapping at his heels, a man in a rowboat paddled up to the old man’s kitchen window and shouted, “Sir, get in my boat! I’ll take you to safety!”

“No,” the old man shouted back. “God will deliver me from this flood!”

The water got deeper and soon the old man had no choice but to climb up on his roof. The torrential rains persisted. While he was praying, he heard the chop-chop-chop of a helicopter in the sky. He looked up and saw the helicopter hovering over his house. A ladder had been lowered for him to climb.

“Go away,” yelled the man at the helicopter. “You will blow me off my roof! God is going to save me! You go save someone else!”

The helicopter couldn’t wait forever, so it left the old man on his rooftop, still praying. Eventually, the water engulfed the house and the old man perished in the flood.

When the old man arrived at the gates of heaven, he asked Saint Peter if he could have a talk with God. Peter took him to the throne of grace.

“Oh Lord, I prayed earnestly for the rains to stop and for your deliverance from the flood. But you left me there to drown. I don’t understand!”

“My child, I heard your prayers. I sent you a four-wheel-drive truck, a rowboat, and a helicopter. Why did you send them away?”

Good stewards have faith and trust in God because they recognize his activity in their circumstances, regardless of how hopeless they seem. In our eyes, things may look like they are getting worse and that God has abandoned us. But God sees the big picture and we can trust that he will never leave us nor forsake us. He is at work, even when we don’t realize it.

Good stewards understand what is required to be a mature disciple of Christ. Our lesson today illustrates for us a mother’s dedication to answered prayer. In getting what her heart desired, Hannah must also give that desire back to God. It’s an account of answered prayer, but prayer that elicits a condition. Hannah, a barren woman, prays fervently for a child. Her Hebrew culture commonly stigmatized childless women, and Hannah’s husband’s other wife, Peninnah, taunts Hannah without mercy. Hannah even bargins to dedicate her child to the Lord’s service should she have one; in time she conceives and bears a son whom she names Samuel.[1]

As a parent, I find Hannah’s story a remarkable one. She made a deal with God, one I would have trouble fulfilling if I was in her shoes. When Michael and Marissa were born, I made mental lists of things I would want to experience with them: learning to walk and talk, celebrating their birthdays, their first day of kindergarten, sharing life’s trials and celebrations together and so much more. What parent doesn’t want to see their child’s first steps?

Hannah doesn’t. She knows that each day brings her closer to fulfilling her promise to God. After weaning baby Samuel, Hannah offers him to Eli the priest at Shiloh.

My wife, D’Anna, noticed the title for today’s sermon was about parenting. She asked, “Are we having a guest preacher Sunday?” Can anyone among us honestly claim to be experts in parenting? I don’t think so. Parenting is the hardest job you’ll ever love. There are moments when I feel the love and there are other moments that try your patience, test your resolve, and push all your buttons. In parenting, even the most capable parents lose their bearings once in a while. Even the most patient parent loses their cool after asking their child for the one millionth time to put their toys away. But when your child gives you that huge bear hug or comes running to meet you at the door or tells you that you are their best friend, the love and joy we feel overrides all the other stuff. It is certainly true that parenting is the hardest job you’ll ever love.

And no matter how our children turn out, we still love them. On the evening news, there is always at least one news story about a young man or woman involved in a shooting that led to someone’s murder. In the interview with the news reporter, you never hear her say, “I’m not surprised by this. He’s been trouble all his life.” Rather, they always say, “He or she is a good kid. Would never hurt anybody. Goes to church and walks with the Lord.” This sentiment makes Hannah’s action to give Samuel to God even more amazing. Her prayer was sincere. When it came to keeping her promise, she lived up to what she pledged she would do: she gave her one and only son to God because God gave him to her in the first place.[2] Would you do the same?

I find it intriguing how easy it is for we parents to commit our children to the secular gods of our day rather than the God of the universe. We sign them up for an exhaustive list of activities, we satisfy their wants and needs, and nurture them with the values of our materialistic world. Then we may commit our children to the God who provides the basis for human wholeness and our salvation. If there is a conflict between a church activity and a non-church activity, which one takes priority over the other? Hannah is modeling for us the better way to go. It is better to commit our children to full time service to the living Christ than to a world of materialism and greed.

Hannah came to understand and believe, as difficult and painstaking as it was, that God was active in her circumstances, regardless of how hopeless it seemed. Samuel was a gift from God. She was so thankful and grateful for what she had received.

Good stewards know how to count the cost of discipleship. Good stewards know how to measure the blessings and gifts of God and respond in faith. Faithful parents grasp that what they do with and for their children is part of their stewardship of God’s gifts. God offers us children with the knowledge that we will give them back to God. This is the Good News! Amen.










[1] The Stewardship Companion: Lectionary Resources for Preaching, by David N. Mosser (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007) p. 158-159.


[2] Ibid.

A Mentor for Good Giving

Mark 12:38-44
If you saw Daniel Huffman at the local McDonald’s, you’d never realize what an outstanding and unusual young man he was. When he was 17, he stood 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighed 275 pounds, and football meant the world to him. He was a defensive lineman for his high school team until his senior year. In July of that year, Daniel decided to skip his senior year of football to give his ailing grandmother one of his kidneys.

That’s right, a kid who loved football set it aside to give life to another. People who know Daniel would tell you he was just that kind of kid. He was an honor-roll student, member of the school chorus, class vice president, writer of poetry, co-captain of the football team, and he’s also known as “The Screamer”—a one man pep rally!

Yet he had no designs on stardom. Daniel once told his team’s star running back, “It will be my privilege to block for you.” That’s how Daniel was. He really believed it was a privilege to help others. He loved to set the stage for others’ good and blessing. So, it wasn’t out of character for him to give one of his kidneys to his diabetic grandma who had raised him since eighth grade.

High school students are great. They can do wonderful deeds of kindness in this world, and their hearts can be as big as Texas. Here’s what’s great about Daniel’s case—even though he had to quit the football team, the team didn’t quit on him. As he recovered from surgery, the team insisted he wear his jersey each Friday. And that he ride on the senior players’ float at homecoming. And that he make the speech at the pep rally before the game. On Friday nights, people at the games could hear his voice all over the field. “C’mon, everybody!” he’d shout to his teammates.
One Sports Illustrated writer said, “It’s funny, how somebody who wasn’t even playing could be the toughest kid on the team.” Doctors said he’d recover from the operation, and his kidney would soon be twice the size it used to be. Knowing this the writer said, “They may be able to measure the size of his kidney, but they still haven’t figured out how to measure Daniel’s heart.

It would be enough if that was the entire story, but it’s not. Daniel had always dreamed of playing for the powerhouse Florida State University football team someday. When Daniel donated his kidney, that became impossible. Still, during his freshman year of college, Daniel found himself right in the middle of the Florida State Seminoles football team every Saturday afternoon. He was a student trainer. How did that happen?

The December following his senior year, as he was receiving an award at Walt Disney World for most courageous student athlete of the year, Daniel mentioned to the crowd that he was a huge Seminoles fan. Florida State Seminoles’ head coach, Bobby Bowden, heard about Daniel and arranged a full scholarship to the university for Daniel and gave him a position on the team as a trainer.

FSU head trainer Randy Oravetz says they don’t regret their decision. “I feel lucky the kid’s working for me,” Ray said. Daniel feels lucky too—mentioning that he feels a little like Forrest Gump. “I’ve gotten to work for Bobby Bowden and travel and meet all these people. It’s like a fairy tale.”

And here’s the icing on the cake. In 1999, Daniel’s story was told in Gift of Love: The Daniel Huffman Story, a made-for-TV movie. The entire nation was inspired by his kindness, sacrifice, and love. He is a mentor for good giving. How many of us are willing to sacrifice what we most enjoy for another person? If we want to be Jesus’ disciples, if we truly want to follow him, then we may be asked to give up the very things we cherish the most. 

Our New Testament text tells the story of the Widow’s gift of two coins to the temple treasury. For many of us, pennies are more purse-clutter than currency. You can't even find 1¢ gumball machines at grocery stores anymore, so what good are they?

In this text from Mark 12, a penny was all that a widow had to live on. One penny. Well, the Greek words are lepta and kodrantes. Two lepta or coins are worth less than a kodrantes or a penny. Compared to the average wage of a day laborer in Jesus’ time, which was one denarius, the widow’s offering is 1/64th of a denarius.

This story Jesus shares embodies the stewardship law that all persons have some gift to give, no matter how large or small. It’s a story more about the willingness to give rather than the ability to give.[1] 

In this passage, Jesus is teaching the people in the temple (v. 35). As the religious leaders strolled about the courtyards, Jesus used them as a foil (v. 38). Their garments were ornate -- a cultural sign of leisure and dignity. They expected formal public greetings -- the first-century equivalent of saluting an officer. They always looked for VIP seating. They maintained their status through the financial support of widows. They prayed publicly with pomp and eloquence. In short, they were consumed with external abundance. They wanted prominence and deference. They liked their standing in society and the comfort that came with it.      

In like fashion, Jesus noticed the rich giving their huge offerings in the temple. Clearly the right hand knew what the left hand was doing, because Jesus could tell they were giving large amounts, even from across the room.
Then a widow came and put two copper coins into the offering. She, too, is a mentor for good giving. She’s willing to sacrifice what she most needs. She knows she has a gift to give, no matter how large or small, and is willing to give it. Two coins were nothing compared to the sacks the rich had offered. In fact, our idiom "my 2 cents" probably draws from this story. We say, "I'll put in my 2 cents, for what it's worth." 

Recall the adage, "See a penny, pick it up, and all day long you'll have good luck." Well good luck may not be worth 1¢ anymore. If you saw a coin on the sidewalk, would you pick it up if it were a quarter? A dime? A nickel? How about a penny? That creates a powerful comparison to this text. A couple of pennies -- that's what the widow gave when the temple passed the plate. Jesus commended her for giving what most of us would not stoop to pick up off of the sidewalk.

So what’s the lesson here for us today about what real giving is?  

First, real giving must be sacrificial. In the open salvos of World War II, a large British military force on the European continent, along with some English citizens and diplomats, retreated to the French coastal port of Dunkirk. With its back against the English Channel, the British army faced a German army that threatened to drive it into the sea. To save what he could of his army, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called for all available sea vessels, whether large or small, to evacuate the soldiers and civilians from the besieged French beaches and bring them back across the Channel to safety.

An incredible array of ships and boats raced to the rescue—fishing boats and cruise ships alike. As the flotilla made its way to the beach to pick up soldiers and then move out again, Nazi aircraft set upon them like vultures while German artillery pummeled them with shells. Ships were strafed with machine gun fire, and some were blown out of the water altogether.

Three German fighter planes attacked the defenseless Lancastria, a converted cruise liner, whose decks and hold were packed with soldiers. One bomb dropped directly down the ship’s smokestack, tearing a huge gap in her lower hull. Nearly 200 men were trapped in the forward hold of the now severely listing ship. No one doubted that the liner was going down. Chaos, smoke, oil, fire, and blood, mixed with terrified cries of the men trapped below, created pandemonium on deck as those hopeful of surviving searched for lifeboats or simply leaped into the water.

Moving through the middle of this living nightmare, a young Navy chaplain quietly worked his way to the edge of the hold and peered in at the darkness below.

Then, knowing he could never get out, he lowered himself in.

Survivors later told how the only thing that gave them courage to survive until passing ships could rescue them was hearing the strong, brave voices of the men in the hold singing hymns as the ship finally rolled over and went to the bottom.
The amount of the gift never matters as much as its cost to the giver, not the size of the gift, but the sacrifice. Real generosity gives until it hurts. For many of us it is a real question if our giving to God’s work is ever a sacrifice at all. Very few people will do without their pleasures to give a little more to the work of God. It may well be a sign of the decadence of the church and the failure of our contemporary Christianity that gifts have to be coaxed out of the people of God and that often they will not give at all unless they get something back in the way of entertainment or goods. There can be few of us who hear this story without some shame.
Second, real giving has certain recklessness in it. The woman might have kept one coin. It would not have been much, but it would have been something, yet she gave everything she had. There is a great symbolic truth here. It is our tragedy that there is so often some part of our lives, some part of our activities, some part of ourselves which we do not give to Christ. Somehow there nearly always something we hold back. We rarely make the final sacrifice and the final surrender.

Third, it is a strange and lovely thing that the person whom the New Testament and Jesus hand down to history as a pattern of generosity was a person who gave such a small gift.   

Russell H. Conwell, pastor of Grace Baptist Church in Philadelphia before the turn of the last century, shared a story about a little girl named Hattie May Wiatt. She lived near a church where the Sunday school was very crowded and he told her that one day they would have buildings big enough to allow everyone to attend who wanted to. Later, Hattie May Wiatt became sick and died. Rev. Conwell was asked to do the funeral and the girl's mother told him that Hattie May had been saving money to help build a bigger church. She gave him the little purse in which she had saved 57 cents. Rev. Conwell had the 57 cents turned into 57 pennies, told the congregation the story of little Hattie May and sold the pennies for a return of about $250. In addition, 54 of the original 57 pennies were returned to Rev. Conwell and he later put them up on display. This was in 1886 when 57 cents was no small savings account for a little girl from a poor family. Some of the members of the church formed what they called the Wiatt Mite Society which was dedicated to making Hattie May's 57 cents grow as much as possible and to buy the property for the Primary Department of the Sunday school. A house nearby was purchased with the $250 that Hattie May's 57 cents had produced and the rest is history. The first classes of Temple College, later Temple University, were held in that house. It was later sold to allow Temple College to move and the growth of Temple, along with the founding of the Good Samaritan Hospital (Now the Temple University Hospital) have been powerful testimonies to Hattie May Wyatt’s dream.

We may feel that we have not much in the way of material gifts or personal gifts to give to Christ, but, if we put all that we have and are at God’s disposal, he can do things with and with us that are beyond our imaginings.

The widow, Daniel Huffman, the chaplain aboard the Lancastria, and Miss Hattie May Wiatt are mentors for good giving. They were willing to sacrifice what was most important and valuable to them. They know they each have a gift to give, no matter how large or small, and they are willing to give it. We, as Christians, are called to be mentors for good giving and not called to hoard our gifts, our time, or our pennies. We are called to give them away. Amen.






[1] The Stewardship Companion: Lectionary Resources for Preaching, by David N. Mosser (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007) p. 157.

Can't Buy Me Love

Hebrews 4:12-16

Mark 10:17-31



Your soul -- not to mention your personal budget -- is in mortal danger as you approach the grocery store checkout lane. 

You say, "How?"

You've carefully filled your cart with the needed items outlined on your list. You patiently wait in line, always seeming to pick the one that's the slowest. Yet somehow, by the time the cashier begins scanning the items in your cart, it has suddenly filled up with a pack of gum, a box of Tic-Tacs, a tin of Altoids, a four-pack of AA batteries, three Snickers bars, two Chap Sticks and a magazine for enquiring minds. 

I have discovered over the last year or so that if your 3-year-old and 2-year-old are along for the ride, you may also have accumulated a new Pez dispenser, a mylar balloon with Elmo on it and a miniature die cast metal and plastic monster truck. Stores purposefully pack this kind of junky, funky, consumer gunk into the narrow gauntlet we must run through to get to the checkout counter. Things we would never intentionally have gone in search of now languish under our fingertips -- inviting, no insisting, that we grab them.

Although impulsively buying a pack of gum or a candy bar hardly seems earth-shattering or soul-threatening, the truth is that the increasingly voracious appetites of this consumer culture are being methodically nurtured and stimulated by a crass and crushing consumerism.

For an increasing number of people, self-identity and life-purpose are summed up by the mantra "I shop, therefore I am." Raging consumerism has left Descartes' "I think, therefore I am" far behind. Consumer culture has never even heard of, much less considered, God's revelation to Moses, "I am who I am; therefore, you are."

Like the rich young man in today's gospel text, we know ourselves, we identify ourselves, we define ourselves, by our possessions, our things, our "stuff." Possessions can’t possibly provide you with happiness or anything else of true value in life. Here’s this rich man who comes to Jesus who has almost everything. I think the rich young man recognized this; the unfulfilling practice of acquiring more and more stuff for himself. He was so possessed by his "stuff" that he could not “unstuff” himself neither for the sake of the poor, nor for his own sake and his quest for eternal life. Faced with the choice between his old secure, in-control, in-charge self and the unknown possibilities of life as a disciple of Jesus, the rich man clung to his human illusions of power and control.

But I appreciate the question he raised, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” It was a question on the minds of a lot of people back then as it is today.

Theologian Karl Barth poses this question in a different way, “People come to church on the Sabbath with only one question in their minds: Is it true? The providence of God, the saving power of Jesus Christ, the comforting presence of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection from the dead, the forgiveness of sin: Is it true?”[1] Is what Jesus is saying about eternal life really true?

From the young man’s affirmative answer to Jesus’ question about God’s commandments, it appears that this man had met all his religious obligations. He confessed he kept all the parts of the law since he was a young boy. And then Jesus drops a bomb in his lap: “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own and give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” It was not the answer he had hoped for.

Some of us may think smugly: “He was possessed by his possessions”. But who among us is not? We live in a world dominated by investments, mortgages, car payments, school bills, compensation packages, pensions and insurance. We are all frauds if we think our possessions do not possess us. After all, we have to put food on the table for our families to eat.

Jesus takes full advantage of this teaching moment. He reminds us to remember that God is the sole owner of everything. He talks about wealth and camels passing through the eye of the needle. But this leaves the disciples worried and anxious, so they ask, “Then who can be saved?” The rich young man is upset by what he hears and walks away grieving over the news. The disciples remain although still troubled by the news. When we ask the question about “eternal life” or “who can be saved” or “is it true”, it looms over our heads like a steel anvil tied to an old, fraying rope.

There is an answer to these questions; a way out of this dilemma. Jesus’s answer is “for God all things are possible.” The problem with the rich young man was not the question itself, but the limited scope of his question. He spoke in the first person, “I”: “What can I do…” For the rich man it’s all about him. He’s only worried about himself and his own needs. The man’s question is answered by Jesus indirectly. Jesus says that all of life and the world are absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt completely dependent on God. Jesus offers us here an authentic and faithful theological understanding of stewardship: God is the owner of all and we borrow for a time the gifts God gives.
As God’s stewards, as disciples of Christ, we know in our hearts with great confidence that whatever gifts we bring to God, great or small, God multiplies our offering as Jesus multiplied the five loaves of bread and the two fish.

So whatever we offer, God increases. When God provides, even by use of our hands, then there will always be enough. The economic law of diminishing returns does not apply here. There is no decrease in the numerous variety of inputs and outputs in God’s economy. Eternal life with God is God’s gift to us. Our sole task is to receive God’s bounty and pass along the gift, so others may be blessed by the grace and love of God in Christ Jesus.

God may bless you with more than you need to get by in today’s world, and if he does, you can be very grateful. But never mistake possessions for the abundant life that Jesus offers (John 10:10). It could put your soul in mortal danger. Amen.






[1] Joanna Adams, “The Only Question,” in Thomas G. Long and Cornelius Plantinga Jr., eds., A Chorus of Witnesses: Model Sermons for Today’s Preacher (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994) p.268.

When Words Are Not Enough: A Prayer of Faith

James 5:13-20

Eight years ago, Connie Culp, a mother of two, was shot in the face by her husband, who then turned the gun on himself. He survived and went to prison.

Culp also survived and went to her own prison — a prison of nightmarish proportion. She clung to life, but the attack completely demolished her face, shattering her nose and cheeks, the roof of her mouth and one eye. Shotgun pellets were embedded deep into her skull. It was awful. Neighborhood children thought she was a monster.

Culp endured 30 operations to repair what could be repaired. Then, in December 2008, in a 22-hour operation, a team of doctors at the Cleveland Clinic replaced her face with bone, muscles, nerves, skin and blood vessels from a woman who had just died. In May 2009, she went public with her new face on Oprah as the first U.S. citizen to receive a face transplant. 

It isn’t a perfect face, by any means, but Culp is delighted. A less-courageous person might not have been willing to go public. 

Unless I’ve missed my guess, some of us have felt faceless at one time or another. We don’t know who we are. We’re confused and bewildered, and searching for God’s call on our lives. We’d like God to give us a face — a face that expresses peace, wholeness, love and joy; a face of connection and authentic community.

Everyone is looking for something real and worth dying for. Everyone is looking for a place where they can love God, love others and be loved for who they are. Everyone is looking for an authentic community. What does it look like? Would you know it if you saw it?

I’ve heard it said that authentic community occurs when the real you shows up and meets real needs for the right reason in the right way. One internet blogger shared that “authentic community only happens when we give each other permission to be honest without fear of rejection. 

James describes authentic community as a singing, praying and healing community. A big part of our healing should include confession and prayer for one another. (James 5:16) Authentic community is a place where genuine friendships can be built and people are allowed to live transparent lives with one another.

We need places like these where people know our names, where they know what we like and what we don't like, a place where we can relax and just talk and share with people and not worry, that we're going to be rejected because we already know we're accepted. We're looking for a place where we know who to hang around with, we know who to call to come over when we have a problem, we know who's good with plumbing, we know who's good with babies, we know who's good at just listening, and we know who gives good advice. We need that. We all need that. We need it even more when we're separated from our families and our older friends. We long for that sort of community because we need it. This is how we were created to be.

My favorite rock n roll musician is Bruce Springsteen and my favorite group is the E Street Band. It started when I was about 12 years old. His songs drew me into the lives of people’s real struggles; into the larger world that lived all around me. I discovered parts of myself in his music as I struggled to find my own identity, my own place in this world, to discover where I belonged. I later realized that I was yearning. I was yearning for connection. I was craving authentic community.

One of my favorite songs is Born to Run. The lyrics tell the story of a young man and woman looking to escape their small town that they saw as a "death trap" that was holding them down. They needed to get out while they were still young because it was sucking the life out of them. 

But it wasn't just about adolescent angst wanting freedom from the familiar. It's a song about yearning; yearning for something real, raw, untamed, wild and free. It's a song about yearning for connection, a yearning for a place to belong, a yearning for authentic community. He sings, "I gotta find out how it feels. I want to know if love is wild, I want to know if love is real." (add footnote) "Someday girl I don't know when we're gonna get to that place where we really want to go and we'll walk in the sun." (add footnote) Do you hear the yearning? There is a longing to be free and at the same time a yearning to connect to something bigger; a community that is authentic and real.

While we are yearning, our society is dismantling the assumptions, the values and beliefs that have served as our foundation for living. We need a spirituality that is active, real and engaging in our age of countless distractions and interruptions. We need to tell it like it is. We can’t mince words. We must share the plain truth of the Gospel with a Connie Culp kind of courage knowing we are guided every step of the way by the Holy Spirit.

A tell-it-like-it-is spirituality is needed more than ever before in this culture of moral collapse. Ethicist Larry L. Rasmussen says that “our society currently lives from moral fragments and community fragments only, and both are being destroyed faster than they are being replenished....Ours is a season of moral sprawl and breakdown, moral homelessness and drift.”[1] We need an authentic community experience that connects and reconfigures these shattered fragments of our souls. Who can do that? God can if he chooses to do so.

Some of us also feel weak, not in soul, but in body — or perhaps in both. God can touch us in our bodies, too. How does this happen? Who can know? People with little faith have been healed. People with a truckload of faith remain unhealed — the apostle Paul, for one. God is God. God will do what he wants to do when he wants to do it. All we can do is be obedient. Are you sick? Then, in obedience to God’s word, let the elders pray for you, and leave everything else to God.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Christian martyr of the 20th century, wrote several books about what real community is and can look like. He wrote, “I have community with others, and I shall continue to have it only through Jesus Christ. The more genuine and the deeper our community becomes, the more will everything else between us recede, the more clearly and purely will Jesus Christ and his work become the one and only thing that is vital between us. We have one another only through Christ, but through Christ we do have one another, wholly, and for all eternity.”[2] Jesus Christ is the starting point for building authentic community. With Jesus Christ in your heart, you are no longer faceless. You have the face of Christ. You are loved for who you were created to be, a child of God.

I would like to close with this story.  

There was a Benedictine community to whom nobody came. As the monks grew old, they became more and more disheartened because they couldn't understand why their community was not attractive to other people. Now in the woods outside the monastery there lived an old rabbi. People came from all over to talk to him about the presence of Yahweh in creation. Years went by and finally the abbot himself went into the woods, leaving word with his monks, I have gone out to speak to the rabbi. (It was of course considered humiliating that a Christian community had to go back to the synagogue to find out what was wrong with them.)

When the abbot finally found the rabbi's hut in the woods, the rabbi welcomed him with open arms as if he had known that he was coming. They put their arms around each other and had a good cry. The abbot told the rabbi that his monks were good men but they spread not fire, and the community was dying. He asked the rabbi if he had any insight into the work of Yahweh in their lives. The rabbi replied, I have the secret and I will tell you once. You may tell the monks and then none of you is ever to repeat it to one another. The abbot declared that if they could have the secret, he was sure his monks would grow.

So the rabbi looked at him long and hard and said, the secret is that among you, in one of you is the Messiah! The abbot went back to this community and told his monks the secret. And lo! as they began to search for the Messiah in one another they grew, they loved, they became very strong, very prophetic. From that day on, the community saw Christ in one another and flourished![3]

As we yearn to build authentic community, let us start by searching for Christ in each other. And when we do this, we, too, will grow, and love, and flourish into the authentic community God wants for us. This is the Good News: see it, feel it and trust it. Amen.







[1] Larry L. Rasmussen, Moral Fragments and Moral Community: A Proposal for Church in Society
(Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 11.
[2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc., 1954), 25-26.
[3] Story told by Joan D. Chittister, OSB, Living the Rule Today: A Series of Conferences on the Rule of Benedict (Erie, Pa.: Benet Press, 1982), 98-99, as quoted on pp. 82-83 of Wolff-Walin

When Words Are Not Enough: The Attitude of Our Heart

James 3:13 – 4:3, 7-8a

When I hear the word “wisdom”, I automatically think of a person’s intelligence or aptitude; Or one of the writings of famous philosophers like Aristotle, Newton, Descartes, and Plato; or someone with doctoral degrees in several areas of study.

But James understands wisdom in a very different way.  He writes, “Who is wise and understanding among you?  How is wisdom perceived?”  The answer James offers is extremely precise: “Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.”  You could be the smartest, wisest, most intelligent person in the world and carry on debates on the nebulous questions of life and work for one of those private “think tanks” as an expert consultant.  But true wisdom is based on how a person carries themselves and lives their life.

One fine day four people were flying in a small, four-passenger plane: a pilot, a minister, and two teenagers, one of whom had just won an award for being the “Smartest Teenager in the World.”

As they were flying along, the pilot turned to the three passengers and said, “I’ve got some bad news, and I’ve got some worse news. The bad news is, we’re out of gas. The plane’s going down and we’re gonna crash. The worse news is, I only have three parachutes on board.

This meant, of course, that someone would have to go down with the plane.

The pilot continued. “I have a wife and three children at home. I have many responsibilities. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take one of the parachutes.” With that, he grabbed one of the chutes and jumped out of the plane.

The Smartest Teenager in the World was next to speak. “I’m the Smartest Teenager in the World,” he said. “I might be the one who comes up with a cure for cancer or AIDS or solves the world’s economic problems. Everyone is counting on me!” The Smartest Teenager in the World grabbed the second parachute and jumped.

The minister then spoke up and said, “Son, you take the last parachute. I’ve made my peace with God, and I’m willing to go down with the plane. Now take the last parachute and go.”

“Relax, reverend,” said the other teenager. “The Smartest Teenager in the World just jumped out of the plane with my knapsack.”

The Smartest Teenager in the World may be just that, but he was also selfish, devilish, and unspiritual.  And we do this all the time:  we live according to the wisdom of the world when we ought to live according to the wisdom of God. 

The apostle James knows this about us — that we all have a level of selfishness and a powerful set of human cravings. We may successfully conceal our private jealousies, desires and envies from others, but these are, as James points out, a devilish, destructive wisdom.

To say that someone is wise, at least in contemporary English, suggests that the individual has mature insight, is unusually discerning and applies knowledge with careful judgment.

In the 2003 movie Bruce Almighty!, Morgan Freeman as God gives Jim Carrey (a.k.a. Bruce Nolan) a chance to have Godlike powers since Bruce was grumbling about God’s “poor” on-the-job performance.  So when God offers Bruce the chance to try being God himself for one week, Bruce is initially overjoyed with these powers.  He immediately begins to use them for personal gain, such as by getting his job back, replacing his car with a silver Saleen S7 and impressing his girlfriend Grace Connelly by pulling the moon closer to earth one night.  Bruce finds ways of using these powers to cause miraculous events to occur at the otherwise mundane events that he covers, such as causing a meteor to harmlessly land near a cook-off, earning him the name "Mr. Exclusive”.  When given the chance to be God for a week, Bruce uses these new powers for selfish purposes.  He chooses to use his power for selfish reasons because he was relying on human wisdom for making decisions. 

So what would you do if you were God for a week, or even a day?  How will you handle the most powerful responsibility in the universe?

On NPR’s program This American Life years ago, John Hodgman conducted an informal, unscientific survey asking the question: Which is better? The power of flight, or the power of invisibility? What he found surprised him. No matter which power people chose, they used it in self-serving ways. Their plans weren’t often flashy or heroic. In fact, they were almost never heroic, nor were they really kind.

Here’s something that hardly anyone ever mentioned in his interviews — “I will use my power to fight crime.” No one seemed to care about crime or justice. Nobody wanted to work for peace — personal, local or worldwide. No one tried to be merciful, or simply just helpful.

Hodgman wondered why no one wanted to take down organized crime, bring hope to the hopeless, swear vengeance on the underworld.

One respondent, who had chosen flight over invisibility, commented, “I don’t think I’d want to spend a lot of my time using my power for good. I mean, if I don’t have super strength and I’m not invulnerable it would be very dangerous. If you had to rescue somebody from a burning building you might catch on fire. I don’t think just having the power of flight is not enough because you don’t have the super strength. I’d still be weak when I got there. I don’t fight crime now.”

He finished with — “I think I’d go to Paris.”

His answer is telling. It might just be a representative reaction of all of us, if we’re honest. Right now we might not have the heart, or the wisdom, to do good. Right now, we might, when possible, use our super powers to orchestrate private gain for ourselves or wreak havoc on others just for fun or vengeance. 

Nobody interviewed on This American Life took responsibility for others less fortunate than themselves by using their super powers for the common good. 

Nobody was interested in helping the underdog, saving a drowning kitten, beating up bad guys. It turns out most people secretly, or even openly, have stock piles of selfishness. 

This isn’t a surprise. It’s the wisdom of the world.

James writes about another kind of wisdom, a divine wisdom, the wisdom of God. 

James calls it wisdom from above. The Old Testament calls it Sophia; the New Testament commonly calls it the Holy Spirit. 

In Proverbs, the “fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” In the Psalms it is meditation on the law of God. In James, it is something for which we should ask of God — who gives generously — to all — without finding fault (1:5). 

It is also something that is “from above.” This is true wisdom. It is characterized by purity, peacefulness, “gentleness, a willingness to yield, filled with mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy” (3:17).

True wisdom yields a “harvest of righteousness.” In other words, James is arguing that you can talk all you want about being wise, smart, powerful, but unless your life bears witness to good works, you’re not too wise. In fact, you’re stupid. “Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom” (3:13). 

False wisdom, he says, is something altogether different. It is characterized by “bitter envy and selfish ambition.” It is “earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind” (3:14-16). Moreover, false wisdom results in conflicts, disputes and cravings in the body of Christ (4:1). 

What to do? James is never one to leave us without some practical advice.

You want to be Me Almighty? You want to be truly wise and powerful? Here’s what you do:

Submit yourselves to God.  Give it all to God, everything: your dreams, your fears, your time, your finances, your family, your future.  Trust in the God who began a good work in you and promises to complete it.  Follow the wisdom of God in all parts of your life, not the wisdom of the world.

Resist the devil.  False wisdom will rise upon you when it feels it’s being ignored or forgotten.  In fact,  the evil one will come after you harder and more determined than before to bring you back down to living according to the wisdom of the world.  You can’t do it alone.  You’re gonna need help.  That’s where the community of faith comes into play, holding each other accountable for what we do and don’t do to honor and obey God and resist the devil.

Draw near to God.  Become best buds!  Seek a holy friendship with God.  We draw near to God through our worship, through bible study, through small groups and through private, personal prayer time.  Come into God’s presence with all that you are, with a humble and contrite heart. 

Unless our inner focus shifts from the earthly to the spiritual, we’ll bring about greater havoc on ourselves and others.

Without God’s wisdom we can do a lot of damage: We brag, we covet, we murder, we’re hypocrites, we quarrel, and we create conflicts.

With the gift of holy wisdom, wisdom of God, we can, even in our weaknesses, learn to live lives of mercy, purity, peacefulness and gentleness, which is exactly what James tells us God wants for us and from us.

And it’s not just for one of us. It’s a gift to all of us. All of us are expected to be channels of spiritual wisdom for our own greater good and for the good of those around us.