Sermon for June 26, 2005

Faith Moves: Abram, the Ancestor of our Faith
Genesis 12:1‑8

In his book Waiting, author Ben Patterson tells the following story:
In 1988, three friends and I climbed Mount Lyell, the highest peak in Yosemite National Park. Our base camp was less than 200 ft. from the peak. But our climb to the top and back was to take the better part of a day, due in large part to the difficulty of the glacier we had to cross to get to the top ... As the hours passed, the two more experienced mountaineers opened up a wide gap between me and my less‑experienced companion. Being competitive by nature, I began to look for shortcuts to beat them to the top. I thought I saw one to the right of an outcropping of rock ‑ so I went, deaf to the protests, of my companion.

Perhaps it was the effect of the high altitude, but the significance of the two experienced climbers not choosing this path did not register in my consciousness. It should have, for thirty minutes later I was trapped in a cul­-de‑sac of rock atop Lyell Glacier looking down several hundred feet of a sheer slope of ice, pitched at about a 45 degree angle. I was only about ten feet from the safety of a rock, but one little slip and I wouldn’t stop sliding until I landed in the valley floor some 50 miles away! I was stuck and I was scared.

It took an hour for my experienced climbing friends to find me. Standing on the rock I wanted to reach, one of the men leaned out and used an ice ax to chip two little footsteps in the glacier. Then he gave me the following instructions: “You must step out from where you are and put your foot where the first foothold is. When your foot touches it, without a moment's hesitation, swing your other foot across and land it on the next step. When you do that, reach out and I will take your hand and pull you to safety."

That sounded real good to me. It was the next thing he said that made me more frightened than ever: “Listen carefully. As you step across, do not lean into the mountain! If anything, lean out a bit. Otherwise, your feet may fly out from under you and you will start sliding down.” I don't like precipices. When I’m on the edge of a cliff, my instincts are to lie down and hug the mountain, to become one with it, not to lean away from it! But that was what my good friend was telling me to do. For a moment, based solely on what I believed to be the good will and good sense of my friend, I decided to say no to what I felt, to stifle my impulse to cling to the security of the mountain, to lean out, step out, and traverse the ice to safety. It took less than two seconds to find out if my faith was well founded.

God often calls people to do things that are the opposite of our natural leanings. God calls people out onto the precipice ‑ the edge of life ‑ the place where we must lean out, take a step, and move away from the places where we feel safe and secure. Over the summer, we are going to explore men and women of faith who stepped out in obedience to God's call. Today we begin a sermon series calling Faith Moves. We begin by looking at Abram, the ancestor of our faith.

Chapters 1-11 of the book of Genesis are depressing. In spite of culture, learning, and human advancement, the early inhabitants of the earth, starting with Adam and Eve, discovered that sin closes the door to Paradise, and that no amount of human effort or learning could re‑open it. The happiness that human beings lost in rebellion against God, and the state of isolation that resulted, was not one that humans could change by their own efforts. The account of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11 is yet another unfolding account of humanity’s inability to reach God. The people of the earth decidedto build a tower that reached to the heavens to make name for themselves. But despite all the planning, preparing, and building that went into the tower, the result was confusion and rabble. Genesis 12 points us in the direction of a solution. Finally, God intervenes to do what his creation could not ‑ to bring people back into a right relationship with God. We are introduced to a man named Abram, and we begin to see God’s determination to save his people.

The details aren’t that clear, but God’s voice is unmistakable. God says, “Abram, get up and go, and I’ll lead you somewhere better. Get out of your safe and familiar surroundings, leave your loved ones, abandon your security and go where I will show you.” What would you do if you heard the instantly recognizable voice of God telling you to do that? I know myself well enough to know that I would make excuses: God, I can’t go right now. I have too much important work to do. God, My roots are here. I can’t live anywhere else. God, I'm too scared to go.”

Quite often, when God wants to use someone to accomplish something important, God stirs, and unsettles, and sometimes even uproots that person. What God is looking for in every generation is that man or woman who will listen, that teenager whom he can use; that individual who will follow God's directions to the letter ‑ that person who will strike out into the unknown in total, abandoned obedience to God. We, like Abram and Sarai, face daily challenges that may disturb our plans and cause us to rely on God.

Maybe God is calling you to do something risky with your faith, but you ask “What’s going to happen to my future? Will this lead to grief, disappointment, or disaster? Will somebody bring violence or harm to me or my family? Will I suffer some disaster?”

Maybe you are being called to reconcile a bad relationship. We face the demands of relationships every day; loving those who are hard to love, forgiving the offender; making up with those whom we’ve wronged, living up to our marriage vows, keeping our self‑promises, trying to be effective parents.

Maybe you are being called out of our comfort zone, to stretch yourself, to travel new pathways and gain new experiences.

For each of these conditions, I think we need to hear God's voice as never before. We need to hear that command of separation that says, “Come out and follow me.” It means putting our backs to the past and walking in a new direction of total devotion to God. Abram faced a mission that tested the limits of his faith up to that point. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew that his greatest blessing was to live in obedience to the call of God.

God also gave Abram and Sarai a promise. God promised to make them into a great nation, to bless them, and to make them a bless­ing to all the nations on earth. Before he left, Abram knew the consequences. His obedience would lead to great blessing.

There are always consequences to our decisions and actions, too. When we choose to rebel and sin against God, the consequences are severe: lives are broken, relationships are ruined, and there is ultimate condemnation from God. But when we are obedient, when we go God’s way, we reap God’s promised consequences, too. What God promises in his word, God does. Our own decisions, our own actions, determine how God’s word is fulfilled in our lives. If you wonder if your actions are in obedient to God’s expectations, ask yourself these questions:
- Are my actions consistent with loving God and loving others?
- Is this action true, right, pure, lovely, excellent, and praiseworthy?
- How will this action or decision influence my friendships, my marriage, and my relationship with my children?
- Do my actions line up with what I know about biblical teaching?
- How will this impact on my character and integrity?
- Will this action lead to sin, sorrow, and regret?

And who knows how the consequences of your actions will affect others later on? If the story of Abram teaches us anything, it shows us that what we see with our eyes is not all there is to see. If you are obedient, God will work his plan out through you so that others will know the promise of salvation.

A famous preacher named Tony Evans often tells about his family. His father and mother hated one another. Tony tells of growing up listening to his parents arguing, beating one another, even taking out knives to threaten each other at times. One day Tony’s father went to work and a co‑worker, demonstrating unbridled obedience to God, shared his faith. During a break he took Tony's father through the Bible and showed him how Christ had come to save sinners and restore relationships. It was just the hope that the father needed in his life. That day Tony’s father knew what it meant to have a relationship with God through Christ. And from that time on, every night around 2 AM, Tony’s father would sneak downstairs, read his Bible, and pray for his family. He prayed for peace between him and his wife. One night, while Tony’s dad was reading and praying, the mother come downstairs to pick a fight. The wife said, “I want to know what’s going on around here. Every time I try to be mean to you, you’re nice. Every time I try to get mad at you, you forgive me. I don’t know what happened to you, but whatever you have, I want it.” That night, the forgiving grace of God was revealed to Tony’s mother, and his family’s life was changed. The parents led all their children to know and follow Jesus Christ. Tony went on to become the first African American to get a doctorate from Dallas Theological Seminary. He started a store‑front church with 10 or 15 members that new has an attendance of 2000 people. Tony Evans has a radio program heard all across the world. He is a voice for transformation of the inner cities and racial reconciliation. Because of the father’s obedience in hearing and following God’s voice, a chain reaction was set off, which enabled thousands of people to hear and respond to the gospel.


After telling us about God's call and God’s promises, the Bible tells us that Abram and his family set off. Abram obeyed God. He did not know how God would do what he said, but he knew that God would do what he said. Here is Abram, a man who took his aging wife and left home at the age of 75 years old to become a nomad who had faith as his only map.

When God speaks, he always expects his people to listen. Yes, God gives us the freedom to make our own decision, but God’s blessing in our lives rests upon our decision to obey.
Obedience means doing what we really don’t like to do or want to do, but doing it just because it’s the right thing to do.
- Obedience means going beyond profession to performance, beyond lip service to life service.
- Obedience means stepping out of our comfort zones, seeking new experiences, and finding new ways to demonstrate God’s love and power.
- Obedience means allowing God’s word to determine our values, our morals and life principles.

An account is told of a TV news crew that was assigned to southern Florida in the wake of hurricane Andrew. In the middle of the devastation stood one lone house still on its foundation. The owner was cleaning up the yard when a reporter asked, “Sir, why is your house the only one still standing? How did you manage to escape the severe damage of the hurricane?” The man replied, “I built this house myself. I also built it according to the Florida state building code. When the code called for 2 X 6 roof trusses, I used 2 X 6 roof trusses. I was told that a house built according to the code could withstand a hurricane. I did, and it did. I suppose no one else around here followed the code.”

When the sun is shining and the skies are blue, building our lives and making our life decisions based on anything other than God’s instructions can be tempting. But, will it hold up when the devastating moments come? There is one way to be sure we can withstand the storms of life. We need to make sure we are not only listening for God’s plan, but also putting the plan into action.

In the confused and muddy paths of our lives God still shows us the way. God acts by calling people like Abram and Sarai, and you and me to do things that don’t always come naturally. Are you hearing God’s voice? Are you able to see the next path God wants you to take? Are you too scared to hear what God has to say? All I can offer is this ... trust that God’s promises are true, trust your instincts, and take the risk. As you are obedient, you will see how God responds when his people follow him.

A Prayer for Children

Some people asked me for a copy of the prayer I offered for Children's Sunday. It is printed below. Also, check out Tim Burke's sermon at the church website.

We pray for the children who put chocolate fingers on everything, who love to be tickled, who stomp in puddles and ruin new pants, who eat candy before supper and who can never find their shoes in the morning.

And we also pray for those who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire, who have never bound down the street in a new pair of shoes, who never played "one potato, two potatoes," and who are born in places that we would not be caught dead in and they will be.

We pray for the children who give us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions, who sleeps with their dog and who bury their goldfish, who hug us so tightly and who forget their lunch money, who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink, who watch their fathers shave, and who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those who will never get dessert, who have no favorite blanket to drag around behind them, who watch their fathers suffer, who cannot find any bread to steal, who do not have any rooms to clean up, whose pictures are on milk cartons instead of on dressers, and whose monsters are real.

We pray for the children who spend all their allowance by Tuesday, who pick at their food, who love ghost stories, who shove their dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse the bathtub, who love visits from the Tooth Fairy, even after they find out who it really is, who do not like to be kissed in front of the school bus, and who squirm during services.

And we also pray for those children whose nightmares occur in the daytime, who will eat anything, who have never seen a dentist, who are not spoiled by anyone, who go to bed hungry and wake up hungry, who live and move and have no address.

We pray for those children who like to be carried and for those children who have to be carried. for those who give up and for those who never give up, for those who will grab the hand of anyone kind enough to offer it and for those who find no hand to grab.

For all these children, we pray today, for they are all so precious

Sermon for June 5, 2005

What’s Your Calling?[1]
Matthew 9:9-13

A real estate developer had approached a group of people about investing in his real estate ventures. The developer was an incredibly successful businessman. He lived in a huge mansion, drove classy cars, wore expensive suits. He was aggressive in his business and oozed confidence. Well, one day an investor actually followed up on land registration documents and went to inspect the office complex that he invested in. When he arrived, he found an empty lot. This investor was a retired man. He invested his entire life’s savings with the developer. When he approached the developer, he got a major run around. The retired man was offered his money back with interest, he was assured that he had the facts wrong, he’d gone to the wrong place. He was told that it was the building contractor who was at fault and the contractor was currently under police investigation so he, the investor, had to keep a low profile. The investor went to his lawyer, who went to the police. Eventually the developer’s schemes were uncovered.

The money was gone, squandered in high living, luxurious homes and expensive travel. Many suspected that he hid the money in offshore bank accounts, beyond the reach of lawyers and accountants. The developer was sentenced to four years. He was legally bankrupt, but many wondered about the missing funds, and many, many people were left with their lives pillaged.

And so, the story would end, like so many others -- another in a long list of false promises and greed. But it continues. When the developer was released from prison, the local media interviewed him. “How did he feel?” they asked. “Great!” he replied. He was at peace with himself. Jail had been the best experience of his life. Why? Well, because he’d found Jesus! While jailed as the common criminal, he’d discovered the grace of Jesus Christ and the burdens of his life were lifted. Hallelujah!

Everyone loves a story with a happy ending . . . except those whose lives were left broken by his deceit. There was no offer to pay back the money. There was no attempt to account for all the missing money. It’s a circumstance that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Fine, he got religion. But, what about responsibility and being held accountable for one’s actions? What about justice?

Today’s reading from Matthew’s gospel deals with a similar circumstance. Typically, we would read this passage from the perspective of Matthew, the tax collector the one whom Jesus called. Tax Collectors were considered ‘scum of the earth.’ In the first century, taxes weren’t collected by data-entry clerks typing your tax return into a computer. In Imperial Rome, the government contracted local businessmen to collect taxes. The local collectors were required to pay the tax assessment in advance from their own wallets, and then organize collection in their districts in hopes of turning a profit. The tax collectors whom we read about in the gospels were employees of the local chief tax collector. They were often people who are unable to find other work. Their salary was taken from what they collected beyond their quota. Tax collecting was distasteful, shameful work, but somebody’s had to do it. Desperate individuals would find themselves collecting, in much the same way that some people today lower themselves to work in illegal or immoral professions in order to put food on their tables. The tax collector was dead to his world, he was a parasite, a fungus-like creature that existed only by what it can suck out from the living.

Traditionally we read this passage and get the idea that Jesus rescued Matthew from his death, not a physical death, but a moral, ethical, social death. Out of the blue, Jesus strides onto the scene, and offers his hand, pulling a vile scum bag from his social death. This is a story of Amazing Grace, of undeserved forgiveness and restoration, a story of being pulled back into life by Jesus Christ.

The tax collector is absolved of any evildoing he may have committed, not because of any good deeds he’s performed, but because of God’s undeserved and unwarranted love. This is the traditional way of looking at this passage, and passages like it, but there’s a problem. It gets back to the issue of justice and fairness. Why do the wicked seem to get off free? The traditional Christian response is to say: We’re all low down, wretched sinners who deserve to be boiled in oil for our sins. The difference between the Hitlers and Mother Theresas of the world and us is only a matter of degree. In God’s sight, we’re all horrible, evil creatures and God’s grace is fully manifested for everyone in Jesus Christ. John Calvin, the great-granddaddy of our theology, fleshed this out in his doctrine of total depravity, and this doctrine is reflected in most of orthodox Christian thinking to this day.

There is another scriptural perspective we need to think about, though. We are children of God, and what God creates is, by definition, good. But all of us live in a world that sucks us down, that scratches away at who we are, such that we find ourselves taking on the role of tax collector, in order to make ends meet, and as time goes on we become more and more cynical and corrupt. Or we lose sight of our humanity and the humanity of our neighbors, and we sometimes begin thinking about how we can get ahead of another, or get ourselves out of trouble, using any means possible.

If we read these passages with a compassionate eye, we see people who are wrapped up in situations from which they can’t get free. And we see Jesus Christ boldly step into their lives, and restore their status as God’s children. So if we look at the world around us, we recognize people who test the bounds of our graciousness, we see people who prey on others, who absorb the dignity of others, who try and take for themselves what rightly belong to others. The passage this morning cautions us against looking at others from the viewpoint of the Pharisees, seeing others as unclean sinners.

The Pharisees had rules piled on rules about how to please God through ritual sacrifices, dietary codes, and finely argued points of moral behavior. Like small-town gossips, they watched each other for lapses. The Pharisees took pride in their purity. Jesus taught and lived differently. He looked for sinners, invited himself to supper with them, and said, “I desire mercy, not sacrifices.” Mercy is kind and compassionate. Mercy sees beyond rules and penalties. Mercy sees the heart of the sinner and knows that there is a time to draw lines but also a time to blur them.

Jesus invites us to welcome even the most unwanted people as children of God, no matter what events or circumstances or deliberate acts have brought them to where they are. They are children of God, and so are we.

Each of us here today–we have a calling. We are called to be God’s children. Think about the children in your loves. They are the physical reminder of how God sees us, even the one’s who misbehave . . . even the one’s who try our patience . . .even the children who test the limits. Have you ever looked at a child who’s misbehaving and say, “Why don’t the parent’s do something?” Well, someone could say the same thing to the child-turned-tax-collector in each of us. The answer is, God, our heavenly Parent already has. Jesus came to remind us that we are created in God’s image. Even when we throw out our integrity and compromise our morals, we are still God’s children, and we have an opportunity to be restored. We remember our Lord who said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. . .I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

As we come to the communion table today, we remember that Jesus invites everyone to come and share the feast. It’s not only for those who have it all together, or who smell pretty, or who hold titles and prestige. God’s grace is also for the desperate and destitute, the compromised and the criminal. In this place, we remember that we are all God’s children. May we see Jesus Christ boldly step into our lives, and restore us to who and what God created us to be.

[1]sermon ideas taken from http://sermoncentral.com/outsideURL.asp?OutsideURL=http://www.wwjd.net/muirhead/serm103.htm

Sermon for May 29

Thy Kingdom Come
Matthew 7:15 25

Have you ever wanted something badly? Maybe you’ve pondered how much happier your life would be if you could have a certain item, or maybe be in a relationship with a certain person. Maybe you’ve stayed awake at night thinking how fulfilled you’d feel if you had the object of your heart’s desire. Now picture a time when you actually got what you wanted. Have you ever been sorry that you got what you asked for? I remember when I was a little boy. All my friends seemed to have exotic animals like snakes and iguanas. I decided that I needed a turtle. For days, I asked my parents if I could have a pet turtle. Well, one day my dad came home with a cardboard box, and inside was a little painted turtle. Now you’d think I would have picked it up and taken it for a walk, or played with it, or fed it, or something. But, the second I laid eyes on that creepy-looking, hard shelled menace, I started screaming in fear. The day before I begged and pleaded for that turtle, and the moment I finally got it I was terrified. My father let the turtle go near the brook in our back yard, and I cried all night long.

Often when we pray, we don’t realize what we are committing ourselves to. We don’t stop and think about the consequences of our requests. Some of us desire to be more like Jesus, but we are aren’t so sure it’s worth it when it means taking up our cross and following him. Some of us want to be more loving, but we forget that it means reaching out to the unlovable and loving our enemies. Another example is when we pray the words, “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done.” We rattle those words off every week in church, but do we think about the crucial impact that these words can have on our lives. What does it really mean to ask God for his kingdom to come to earth? What does it mean to do God’s will?

If we are going to pray for God’s Kingdom to come to earth, we might as well be clear on what God’s Kingdom is. Jesus talked about God’s Kingdom a lot. In fact, Jesus began his public ministry by saying, “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near” (Matthew 4:17). A dawning kingdom was about to be established. It was not a kingdom of this world, but a kingdom in the hearts of God's people (John 18:36). God’s kingdom could only be entered by making a 180-degree turn from the old life -- believing in Jesus’ words and following his example. “The Kingdom of God is not a stagnant concept. It was established by Christ, and continues to grow until Christ returns. The Kingdom of God is here at this moment in the Church, in the hearts and lives of those who are true followers of Christ. The true kingdom has always been made up of those in whose heart Christ dwells through faith (1).

Nothing can compare with being part of God’s rule on earth. The problem is that when something is desirable, we often want all the benefits without having to put in any effort. It’s that genie in the lamp syndrome. We fantasize about how great life would be if God would simply answer our wishes without us having to do any of the work to achieve our goal. Jesus recognized this problem in his own day. There were teachers who wanted all the benefits of God’s kingdom. They wanted to be able to claim God’s love and salvation. They wanted to be part of the Christian community, but they didn’t want to make any sacrifices. Jesus says that these people are going to stand before him one day and cry out, “Lord, Lord,” as if it’s some sort of secret password into the Kingdom. They’ll say, “Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God sponsored projects had everyone talking.” You’d expect that Jesus would say, “Great work. You’re in.” But Jesus surprises these folks. He says, “Yeah, that’s all fine. You did a bunch of great things, but you never took the time to know me. You missed the boat. All you did was use my name to make yourselves important. You don’t impress me one bit. You’re out of here” (2). Their words are impressive but their words don’t match their actions. On the outside, they look and sounded like respectable Christians. On the inside, there is something missing.


We can’t pray, “Thy Kingdom come,” without also praying, “Thy will be done.” We are actually asking God to form the kingdom through our obedience to God’s will. The Kingdom of heaven is entered on Jesus Christ’s terms, not our own. I realize that statements like this go against the world’s wisdom. We want to go through life on our terms. I heard a story about a farmer who noticed a sign by the local airport that said: Experience the thrill of flying. The farmer thought to himself, “Tomorrow is my wife's birthday. I’d love for her to experience the thrill of flying.” The pilot went into the airport and found a pilot who would take the couple on a plane ride. He owned a small open cockpit plane that would certainly give the farmer’s wife a thrill, but the price was too high. The farmer bartered with the pilot for a long time. Finally, the pilot agreed to lower the price on one condition: the farmer and his wife had to promise not to say a single word during the entire flight. One word spoken aloud, however small, would increase the price to the pilot’s original fee. The farmer’s determination to give his wife the thrill of flying was only surpassed by his determination to spend as little money as possible, so he agreed. The next morning the three of them took off. The pilot knew if he did a few dips and turns the couple would soon speak. With that in mind he dropped, turned, climbed, dived, and even did a few loops. Not a sound was uttered from the couple. Not a scream. Not even a whimper. Just silence. As they were landing the pilot was amazed at his passengers’ determination. He said, “I can't believe you didn’t say something up there. I guess you win.” The old farmer shouted back, “Well, you almost won. I sure felt like hollerin’ when my wife fell out.”

The old farmer was determined to get what he wanted on his own terms. We can be a lot like that. We let pride and stubbornness get in the way of doing what is right. We say, “Jesus, we hear you calling, but we’re determined to do it our own way. Just tell us where we need to end up, and we’ll draw our own map. We'll consider your advice, though, and if we think it’s any good, we might just follow your suggestions.” It sounds so silly, doesn’t it? Is this how you’re supposed to approach the God of the universe? We think we can dictate the terms of our obedience to God. God has already drawn up the terms, and his expectation is always obedience. Jesus says, “You follow me! I'll do the leading” (3). The Gospels repeatedly insist that the members of Christ’s Kingdom are those who obey him. It does no good to hail Jesus saying, “Lord, Lord,” to honor God’s name in doctrine, hymn, and prayer, if you don’t obey him. You can only enter the Kingdom if you answer the call of Jesus to come to him, and then show your willingness to obey (4).


If we are going to pray, “Thy Kingdom come,” then we need to be willing to be led where Christ leads us. Let me tell you a story about a person who modeled the values of Christ’s Kingdom. This story has actually been through many generations of e mail, so I can’t vouch for its historical value. But the point is still relevant. A mother of three was trying to complete her college degree. Her final class was Sociology, and her final project of the term was called, “Smile.” The class was asked to go out, smile at three people, and document their reactions. This woman was typically a friendly person anyway, so she thought the assignment would be a piece of cake. The mother and her family went out to McDonalds. They were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of the sudden everyone around them started to back away. The lady said, “I did not move an inch ... an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had all moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible ‘dirty body’ smell ... and there standing before me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman close to me, he was smiling, His beautiful, sky blue eyes were full of God’s light as he searched for acceptance. He said, ‘Good day,’ as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient, and the blue eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held my tears as I stood there with them. The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. ‘Coffee is all Miss,’ because that’s all they could afford. Then I really felt it. The compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That’s when I noticed all eyes on the restaurant were fixed on me ... judging my reaction. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to where the men were sitting. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman’s cold hand. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, ‘Thank you.’ I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, I did not do this for you ... God is working through me to give you hope.” I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son ... That day showed me the pure light of God's sweet love.”

The Kingdom of God is where Jesus Christ is. And Jesus Christ lingers in the darkest places in the world. Jesus sits with the lonely and dejected. He holds the isolated and depressed. He grieves with those who suffer loss. He understands the plight of the homeless and the refugees. The Kingdom of God appears precisely at the place where there is blindness, leprosy, lameness, and death (5). This is what makes obedience so difficult. We are called to follow Christ, but Jesus stands with those whom we typically don’t associate. He is loving them with unconditional acceptance, and calling us to demonstrate his kingdom by doing the same.

We can have great programs and smooth words. We can stand before Jesus and say, “Lord, Lord, wasn’t I a deacon, or a trustee, or a Sunday School teacher. Didn’t I give my money, and get involved in the community? Didn’t I try to be a good-natured Christian? Didn’t I put a Christian fish, a yellow ribbon and an American flag on the back bumper of my car?” There’s nothing wrong with any of these positions in themselves, but the Kingdom of God is more than having titles on a resume. It’s following Christ to the places where no one else wants to go, and loving others with clear words and meaningful actions. We don’t do it or to win a popularity contest. We don’t do it to gain the admiration of others. Like the women at McDonald’s we need to be obedient so that God may work through us to give another person hope.


“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done.” What challenging words. I’m not going to pretend that the values of Christ’s kingdom are easy to uphold. Obedience is hard. I struggle with it every day of my life. Each new day presents itself with new opportunities, new choices. I will have contact with a dozen people, and every word that comes out of my mouth is coupled with a choice to be there for me or to be there for someone else. I need to decide, will I do what I want, or what Jesus wants? Will I serve God or myself today? And to be honest, many times I choose myself. Sometimes I’m more comfortable following my own way and feeding my own desires. Maybe it’s the same with you. May God save us from just talking about all the impressive Christian things we do if it is at the expense of actually meeting Christ and the people he chooses to associate with.

Sources:
(1) Jim Davis, “The Nature of Christ's Kingdom,” www.sermoncentral.com
(2) Eugene Peterson, The Message (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1993),21. 2
(3) John Bright, The Kingdom of God (New York: Abingdon, 1953), 218, 219, 220, 223.
(4) Russell Metcalf "Entering the Kingdom," www.sermoncentral.com
(5) Helmut Thielicke, Our Heavenly Father (New York: Harper& Brothers, 1960),60,61. 5