Monday, May 3, 2010

Sermon for May 2, 2010

Tattooed by Christ

Then the angel showed me a river with the water of life, clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb. It flowed down the center of the main street. On each side of the river grew a tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, with a fresh crop each month. The leaves were used for medicine to heal the nations. No longer will there be a curse upon anything. For the throne of God and of the Lamb will be there, and his servants will worship him. And they will see his face, and his name will be written on their foreheads. And there will be no night there—no need for lamps or sun—for the Lord God will shine on them. And they will reign forever and ever. Revelation 22:1-5

I was a teenager, sitting at the counter in my family’s kitchen, grabbing a snack. My father came in the room and we began to speak as only and fresh-mouthed teen and his father do. I don’t remember how the conversation came up, but I remember the conclusion. My father got right in my face and said in no uncertain terms that if I ever came into his house with an earring or a tattoo, he would not let me back in. All ties would be severed from that moment and forever. I believed him, too. Uncharacteristically, I chose not to bring up the fact that he had a tattoo on his arm from his days in Vietnam. As a child, I remember staring at the dark green ink of the paratrooper’s emblem on his arm, wondering where and how that icon became an indelible part of his skin. That night at the kitchen counter just didn’t seem like the right time to mention it. So, being the oldest and ever obedient son, I have complied with his wishes, even after all these years. No tattoos. No piercings. My brother is a different story. I assume he got the same lecture. He promptly went out and got himself an ear ring and a tattoo. Nothing was ever said about it. He lived with my parents for years and years.

I remember talking to a teenager who had a tattoo plan. When he turned 18, he has going to get a tattoo of Yoda on his arm. That’s right, Yoda, the little green Jedi Master from the Star Wars movies. I think the teenager was hurt when I started laughing. I know, we need to support our teens’ fragile egos, but I couldn’t help myself. I pictured this guy as a 90-year-old, looking at the wrinkled ink blob on his arm, not knowing for the life of him what it was or how it got there. The teen didn’t see the humor in it.

If you get a tattoo that you don’t like, you can always change it to something else. Like Angelina Jolie and her famous tattoos. Angelina has gotten three different tattoos on her stomach, but one was a cover-up of another. She claims she used to have a blue dragon on the left-hand side of her stomach, the result a night of drunken fun in the city of Amsterdam. Apparently, she had no recollection of getting that tattoo and had the proverbial “How did that get there?” experience. Dissatisfied with the design, she chose to have it covered up with a large, solid black cross. Her second stomach tattoo is a Latin phrase that can be translated “What nourishes me also destroys me.” If I ever got a stomach tattoo, I would have it say, “Live without regrets.” But with my luck, someone would spell it wrong. I’d have a giant “Live without REGETS” on my chiseled abs for the rest of my life.

Here’s my question: are they crazy? My thinking was challenged about when I read a web article from Next Wave Magazine about Christians who wear body art as a means of spiritual expression. One Christian tattoo wearer had this to say:
Is it possible that in our pain we can worship God? As a society, we have been taught the road of least resistance is most desirable. But is this road most honorable? In our pain, we physically grieve the fall of humankind and turn to God, dependent and hopeful for a world to come-- beyond the physical limitations of death. We too share in the crucifixion of Christ. We too are able to touch the scars. In the mystical act of Communion, we share in his blood and body-- the eternal scars of grace.
In today’s Scripture reading from Revelation we hear John’s final remarks about what heaven is like. Verse 4 struck me as I read the passage: Jesus’ name will be on their foreheads. As a sign of belonging to the kingdom, Christ will put his indelible mark of belonging on all who are his. In a sense, the citizens of heaven will be sporting spiritual tattoos which identify them as the children of God. This morning I’d like us to think about what it might mean to be tattooed by Christ.

I can’t get away from the idea of Baptism as I reflect on this passage. John writes about flowing water, fruit-bearing trees, and marked followers of the Lamb. You could say that Baptism is our spiritual tattoo – our mark of inclusion into the covenant community of God. Congregational theology teaches that Baptism is the sign and symbol of inclusion in God’s grace and covenant with the church. Baptism is the identifying mark signifying faithfulness of God, the washing away of sin, rebirth, being sealed by the Spirit, adoption into the covenant family of the church and new life in Christ. No matter how old you were when it happened, no matter what church on denomination did it, we recognize that Christian Baptism is a once and for all sign that you belong to Jesus. No ifs, ands, or buts.

So, Christians are marked people. It seems to me, however, that our baptismal tattoos don’t always but seem to make a big impact on us. And people outside the church don’t care much about them, either.

A sociologist noticed that this is a time of great spiritual hunger in our country, perhaps greater than ever before. At the same time the church is having less impact on people’s perspectives than ever. A growing number of people have dismissed the Christian faith as outdated and irrelevant. The researcher concluded that our failure is not the content of our words, but our failure to practice those truths. His research shows that professing Christians think and behave no differently than anyone else. The same numbers of Christians and non-Christians give to the poor and volunteer their time. The same numbers of Christians and non-Christians donate money to non-profit organizations and visit Internet chat rooms. Equal numbers of believers and non-believers watch reality TV. Both groups discuss moral issues and see themselves as good people who treat others as they want to be treated. And I found this very interesting: Christians are more likely to spend their money in lottery tickets than are non-Christians (38% Christian, 10% other faiths, 12% atheist and agnostic). The point is, if some one was to put the average Christian and the average non-Christian side by side, one would not be able to tell them apart by their day-to-day behavior.

If we wear the mark of Christ, shouldn’t others should be able to see it -- not as a physical mark, but as a set of behaviors that distinguish us as followers of Christ? God has given us the promise of a life that is new and fresh – a life of ultimate joy, holiness and peace -- and for some reason, many of us hang back.

Perhaps this situation is most painfully illustrated when we look at our covenant children. These are the people who have been baptized by this congregation. We have been given the responsibility of raising them in the faith. We are painfully aware that many of the covenant children of our church don’t continue in a life of community worship and service to Christ. It can hurt when we baptize our children and nurture them in the faith community, and when it comes time for them to make their own faith decisions, some of them wander away, unconnected from any kind of formal faith involvement.

This not only happens in our congregation. In the big picture, we can’t escape the slow and steady demise of mainline churches like the UCC. In a 10-year span, the UCC lost close to 230,000 of its 1.25 million members (1994-2004). The United Church of Christ has experienced larger percentage declines in membership and average weekly worship attendance than the other mainline denominations. Members of our covenant community are leaving the denomination in record numbers. Baptisms are way down from levels a decade ago.

Many people leave the church and go nowhere. These are our covenant children. They carry the mark of Christ. And many of them just leave and sink so easily into the patterns of the world.

My message today is, “Fear not!” We are not left without the consolation of the promises of God. Based on my understanding of Scripture and my father’s convictions about tattoos, let me offer two reminders.

First, tattoos are permanent. John reminds us that in the end, the name of Christ will identify the faithful forever. Jesus’ spiritual mark, imprinted upon us in Baptism, is permanent. It might seem to fade at times. The picture might get blurry around the edges. But the mark is still there. You all belong to Jesus Christ! He will not let you go. The work started in Baptism will be completed. You may wander away. You may take a vacation from following God, but you are never forgotten. God doesn’t say, “Oh, she’s hopeless. I guess I’ll just try harder and do better on the next one. You win some and you lose some.” If you’ve been marked by Christ, you belong to Christ. God’s faithfulness needs no renewal. Human faithfulness needs repeated renewal, but God’s faithfulness is constant and sure.

Secondly, tattoos are a choice. Tattoos don’t just magically appear on your skin by having casual contact with another tattoo owner. You have to make some effort to get one. The covenant of Baptism is the same way. Inclusion in the covenant is not automatic. It is not hereditary. Now I understand that many of you didn’t make the choice in your Baptism. For most of you, your parents made that decision for you. But you have a choice of how you live it out. It doesn’t matter if you chose the mark or someone put it on you before you were too young to know. It doesn’t matter if you were sprinkled, dunked, or sprayed. What matters is how you make good on the promises.

Celebrated preacher Fred Craddock tells of an evening when he and his wife were eating dinner in a little restaurant in the Smokey Mountains. A strange and elderly man came over to their table and introduced himself. “I’m from around these parts,” he said. “My mother was not married, and the shame the community directed toward her was also directed toward me. Whenever I went to town with my mother, I could see people staring at us, making guesses about who my daddy was. At school, I ate lunch alone. In my early teens, I began attending a little church but always left before church was over, because I was afraid somebody would ask me what a boy like me was doing in church. One day, before I could escape, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the minister. He looked closely at my face. I knew that he too was trying to guess who my father was. ‘Well, boy, you are a child of. . .’ and then he paused. When he spoke again he said, ‘Boy, you are a child of God. I see a striking resemblance.’ Then he swatted me on the bottom and said, ‘Now, you go on and claim your inheritance.’ I left church that day a different person,” the now elderly man said. “In fact, that was the beginning of my life.”

“What’s your name?” Dr. Craddock asked. He answered, “Ben Hooper. My name is Ben Hooper.” Dr. Craddock said he vaguely recalled his father talking about how the people of Tennessee had twice elected a fellow who had been born out of wedlock as the governor of their state. His name was Ben Hooper.

When people make good on their Baptism, we are encouraged to identify ourselves with the work of Christ. We bear God’s resemblance. We proclaim good news. We find the lost. We feed the hungry. We bandage the wounds of the world. We offer hope to those who live in fear. We wear the mark of Christ. Do you do it in shame, or do you wear it proudly? Do you choose to live for Christ daily, or do you hope that if you don’t call attention to yourself, maybe you will be able to hide your mark from others?

Listen to the questions asked at our Baptisms. I want to ask them to you, and as I do, I want you to think about what your answer is:
• Trusting in the gracious mercy of God, do you turn from the ways of sin and renounce evil and its power in the world?
• Who is your Lo Savior?
• Will you be Christ’s faithful disciple, obeying his word and showing his love?
• Will you be a faithful member of the church, share in it’s worship and ministry through your prayers and gifts, your study and service, and so fulfill your calling to be a disciple of Jesus Christ?

We, the church, wear the forever mark of Christ. In other words:
We take responsibility for our own actions and allow others to do the same.
We celebrate God’s faithfulness.
We proudly wear Christ’s tattoo and let the world identify us by the quality of our caring and the exuberance of our love. We remember that Jesus’ love will not let us go. So, we don’t give up on ourselves or others.

Sermon for April 18, 2010

Trading My Sorrows

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” And he also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life. -- Revelation 21:1-6

Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven. When they get there, St. Peter says, “We only have one rule here in heaven: don’t step on the ducks!” So they enter heaven, and sure enough, there are ducks all over the place. It is almost impossible not to step on a duck, and although they try their best to avoid them, the first woman accidentally steps on one.

Along comes St. Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw. St. Peter chains them together and says, “Your punishment for stepping on a duck is to spend eternity chained to this ugly man!” The next day, the second woman steps accidentally on a duck and along comes St. Peter, who doesn’t miss a thing. With him is another extremely ugly man. He chains them together with the same admonishment as for the first woman.

The third woman has observed all this and, not wanting to be chained for all eternity to an ugly man, is very, VERY careful where she steps. She manages to go months without stepping on any ducks, but one day St. Peter comes up to her with the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on ... very tall, long eyelashes, muscular, and thin. St. Peter chains them together without saying a word.

The happy woman says, “I wonder what I did to deserve being chained to you for all of eternity?”

The guy says, “I don’t know about you, but I stepped on a duck!”

According to a NEWSWEEK Poll, 76 percent of Americans believe in heaven, and, of those, 71 percent think it’s an “actual place,” but after that, agreement breaks down. Nineteen percent think heaven looks like a garden, 13 percent say it looks like a city, and 17 percent don’t know. In the peaceful, prosperous West, visions of heaven are increasingly individualistic. Consider the best-selling novel, The Lovely Bones, narrated by a 14-year-old girl who has gone to heaven. Her paradise contains puppies, big fields and Victorian cupolas. For more than 2,000 years, theologians and children have been asking the same, unanswerable questions: Do we keep our bodies in heaven? Are we reunited with loved ones? Can we eat, drink? Can you go to my heaven? Can I go to yours? How do you get there?

The New Testament’s fullest descriptions of heaven were also battle cries. After the Romans crushed Jerusalem in A.D. 70, Middle Eastern cities teemed with festivals honoring the Roman emperors. The earliest Christians had a dilemma. “To what extent do we join the mainstream culture?” they wondered. “Do we attend without participating, participate without believing, or believe without embracing?” The Book of Revelation drew the battle lines. Revelation’s descriptions of thunder and lightning and burning torches, as well as its promises of pearl gates and jeweled walls, were warnings to the earliest Christians: Do not worship the Roman emperors. Stay faithful to your God and Jerusalem will be restored and you will live in a magnificent city forever.


What is your vision of Heaven? Some people find it difficult to think realistically about Heaven. And it’s little wonder we feel so indifferent about it all. The image most people dream up about Heaven is anything but appealing -- some bright place tucked behind a galaxy where birds chirp and organs play with heavy tremolo and angels bounce from cloud to cloud. By the way, this image is used by advertisers to sell items as unremarkable as cream cheese – a beautiful women wearing a size-two angel outfit and a tilted halo enjoying a bagel and cream cheese atop a fluffy cloud. Now for some this may be a remarkable vision of things to come. For me, though, it’s remarkably boring.

Why even worry about Heaven right now? There are people dying, starving and killing each other in our world. We face depression, loneliness, fear, anxiety, and grief on a daily basis. We are too busy to think about some future promise like Heaven. But, if the idea of Heaven doesn’t have some day-to-day impact on the suffering we go through here and now, it is useless.

What if Heaven could touch us today? What if Heaven isn’t just some future eternal bliss, but a reality to our Christian lives here and now?

If I had to define Heaven I would say something like this: Heaven is the destination of ultimate joy. This is how I understand the vision of John the Seer: Heaven is a place where there is no more pain, no more sorrow, no more tears, no more crying or pain. All the evils of the world are wiped away. And the Lord makes everything new.

Heaven, I suppose, is the greatest blessing – the greatest gift. Heaven is the destination of ultimate joy. By the way, when I say joy, I don’t mean the leaping-up-and-down enthusiasm of a game show contestant who has just won an all-expenses-paid-two-week vacation to Europe. I’m talking but the deep, sometimes tearful appreciation of the “ordinary” pleasures of life. Wouldn’t even a taste of that in our lives today be wonderful? Just a little joy in the bleak moments...a second of spiritual comfort in the midst of turmoil...peace in the thick of our hectic lives? How do we get to experience even a little bit of that ultimate joy here and now?

We get a glimpse of joy when we find time to celebrate and remember what God is doing in our lives. But let me say this as well: Blessing doesn’t assume joy. That sounds strange, doesn’t it? You would assume that if someone’s received a blessing she’d be elated. I know plenty of blessed people who spend their lives complaining about how rotten life is. I see people who are healthy, people with strong families, people who live in comfort who see something wrong with in everything and everyone. Have you ever someone say grace over a meal and then promptly gripe about it? Someone cooked that meal. Someone prepared the ingredients. His hunger is about to be satisfied. His body is about to be nourished. And all he can do is complain. The meal is not really a blessing. It brings no joy.

But look around. Take stock of life. We are blessed. And joy? Joy is a choice.
We don’t have to wait until we die to experience the kind of joy promised in Heaven. I think we can get a little foretaste of Heaven on earth right now. So, the question is, when we are tempted to sit back and itemize everything that is wrong with the world and in our own lives, where do we find that heavenly taste of joy?

Let me offer a few strategies for focusing on the joy of Heaven here and now:

1. Choose joy through obedience.
Joy is a sign that the Holy Spirit is alive and working in your life. Joy begins to bloom when obedience to Jesus works its way into the fabric of our daily lives.


Imagine that you work for a company whose president found it necessary to travel out of the country and spend an extended period of time abroad. The President says to you and the other trusted employees, “Look, I’m going to leave. And while I’m gone, I want you to pay close attention to the business. You manage things while I’m away. I will E-mail you regularly and I will instruct you in what you should do from now until I return from this trip.” The boss leaves and stays gone for a couple of years. During that time the boss writes often, communicating her desires and concerns. Finally she returns. She walks up to the front door of the company and immediately discovers everything is a mess -- weeds flourishing in the flower beds, windows broken across the front of the building, the secretary at the front desk dozing, loud music roaring from several offices, two or three people engaged in horseplay in the back room. Instead of making a profit, the business has suffered massive loss. Without hesitation she calls everyone together and barks, “What happened? Didn’t you get my messages?” You say, “Oh, yeah, sure. We got all your Email. We’ve even printed your messages and the bound them in a book. You know, those were really great letters.” I think the president would then ask, “But what did you do about my instructions?” No doubt the employees would respond, “Do? Well, nothing. But we read every one!”

Do you know anyone like that, a person who knows God’s expectations? That person might have even read the Bible from cover to cover, but doesn’t live it out. There’s no obedience, and therefore no joy. Living out God’s word can bring joy.

2. Choose joy by trading your sorrows
There is something to be said for disciplining yourself to be positive in the midst of life’s difficulties. I read a story about Jerry -- the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, “If I were any better, I would be twins!” He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this managerial style, a curious observer approached Jerry and said, “I don’t get it! You can’t be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?” Jerry replied, “Each morning I wake up and say to myself, ‘Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it . . . Life is all about choices . . . You choose how you react to situations . . . The bottom line: It’s your choice how you live life.”

Several years later, Jerry did something you are never supposed to do: he left the back door of his business open one morning and was held up at gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital.

About six months after the accident, when people asked him how he was, Jerry replied, “If I were any better, I’d be twins. Wanna see my scars?” Someone asked him what went through his mind as the robbery took place. Jerry replied. “The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door. Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live . . . When they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes I read, ‘He’s a dead man.’ I knew I needed to take action. There was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me. She asked if I was allergic to anything. ‘Yes,’ I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, ‘I’m allergic to bullets!’ Over their laughter, I told them, ‘I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead.’ Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his medical team, but also because of his amazing attitude.

Every day we have the choice to live against the odds. Choose joy by trading your sorrows for the joy of the Lord.

3. Choose joy by choosing to persevere.
Let me tell you the story about Clint Courtney. Clint never came close to making it into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He wasn’t a legend in his own time -- not even in his own mind. But a few die-hard fans were inspired by his tremendous perseverance. Clint played catcher for the Baltimore Orioles in the 1950s. During his career he earned the nickname of Scrap Iron. Clint was weathered and tough. Old Scrap Iron broke no records -- only bones. He had little power or speed on the base paths. As for grace and style, he made the easiest play look rather difficult. But armed with mitt and mask, Scrap Iron never flinched from any challenge. Batters often missed the ball and caught his shin. Their foul tips nipped his elbow. Runners fiercely plowed into him, spikes first, as he defended home plate. Though often doubled over in agony, and flattened in a heap of dust, Clint Courtney never quit. Without fail, he’d slowly get up, shake off the dust, punch the pocket of his mitt once or twice, and nod to his pitcher to throw another one. The game would go on and Clint with it -- scarred, bruised, clutching his arm in pain, but determined to continue. Some made fun of him, calling him a masochist. Insane. Others remember him as a true champion. What kept him going? I guess he really loved baseball.

The lesson? Persevere. Hang in there, even when life gets really tough. And make no mistake, life will get really tough. Curve balls come. We get knocked down. The wind gets knocked out of us. Live with purpose. In the midst of it all, do what you love. Follow your heart. In obedience, with a positive attitude and with perseverance, there is an opportunity to choose joy.

I’d like to leave you with an excerpt from a letter by Fra Giovanni Giocondo . Giovanni was an architect, engineer, and classical scholar who was born in Verona around 1433 and died in 1516. This letter was written to a friend on Christmas Eve, 1513. It’s words are ancient but still meaningful.
I salute you! There is nothing I can give you which you have not; but there is much, that, while I cannot give, you can take.

No Heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today. Take Heaven.

No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present instant. Take peace.

The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet, within our reach, is joy. Take joy.
May we all find a way to take joy and know heaven on earth, here and now.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Sermon for April 11, 2010

Praising the Passover Lamb





In his book The Source, James Michener tells the story of a man named Urbaal. Urbaal lived about 4200 years ago. He worshiped two gods, one a god of death, the other a goddess of fertility. One day, the temple priests tell Urbaal to bring his young son to the temple as a sacrificial victim to the fertility god . . . if he wants good crops. Urbaal obeys. On the appointed day, he drags his wife and boy to the scene of the boy’s sacred execution by fire. After the sacrifice of Urbaal’s boy the several others, the priests announce that one of the fathers will spend next week in the temple with a new temple prostitute. Urbaal's wife is stunned as she notices a desire written more intensely across his face than she had seen before. She is overwhelmed to see him eagerly lunge forward when his name is called. The ceremony over, she walks out of the temple. With her head swimming, she wonders, “If he had different gods, he would have been a different man?”

I have to confess, I have a hard time making it through Michener’s lengthy books. But, I like Michener’s perspective. Urbaal’s wife reminds us that worship shapes life. Whatever or whomever it is that you name as the greatest value–that defines who you are. Let’s look at another worship experience. This is from the vision of John the Seer in the Book of Revelation.
Then I looked again, and I heard the voices of thousands and millions of angels around the throne and of the living beings and the elders. And they sang in a mighty chorus:
“Worthy is the Lamb who was slaughtered—
to receive power and riches
and wisdom and strength
and honor and glory and blessing.”
And then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea. They sang:
“Blessing and honor and glory and power
belong to the one sitting on the throne
and to the Lamb forever and ever.”
And the four living beings said, “Amen!” And the twenty-four elders fell down and worshiped the Lamb (Rev. 5:5-11)

Do you ever wonder why we need to worship? I mean, why bother? Can’t we get along fine without it? A story is told about a young boy who was sitting with his mother in a morning worship service, bored to tears. Not much was keeping his attention, so his eyes began to roam the sanctuary, looking for something that would interest him. Soon his gaze fixed on a bronze plaque on that wall that was covered with stars, letters and an outline of the American flag. He couldn’t figure out what it meant, so he leaned over to his mother, pointed to the plaque and asked in a loud whisper, “Mom, what’s that thing over there?” She whispered back, “That’s a plaque in memory of those who died in the service.” After a long pause, the little boy, wide-eyed and anxious, nudged his mother again and asked her in a solemn tone, “Mom, just tell me one thing–did they die in the morning or evening service?

Have you ever felt that way–like sitting through another boring worship service would kill you? I have. If this is what worship is going to be like, can’t we just as well live without it? Sure, we go to church to see friends, or teach, or sing, or for any other number of commendable reasons. But if we don’t feel like we are meeting with God, it doesn’t seem worth it. It sounds dreadful to go to church just to tolerate another worship service. If God’s presence isn’t obvious at church, the main reason for attending is gone. So, why bother with worship?

Before we answer that, let’s understand what worship is. My definition goes something like this: worship is assigning the highest value to someone or something else. What consumes your thought time? Is there something you are obsessed with–so much so that it’s all you think about and all you crave? It’s probably something of tremendous worth to you. In a sense, whatever you thought of is something you worship. It doesn’t have to be God.

Some people worship the power of human reason. In other words, the human ability to be make objective, rational improvements has the highest value in the universe.

Some people worship self-sufficiency. That is, some consider the Self to be the highest good and that which is most worthy of praise.

Some people worship the power of technology. Some people assign the highest value to science, or psychology, or medicine.

Some people worship a dream. Some have a picture in their minds of what the future should look like. They spend so much time living in the future, they forget that there is some living to do right in the present. They unintentionally make their imaginings their highest value.

A lot of people worship that which makes them feel good at the moment. People become obsessed with personal delight. People begin to worship the things that bring the most individual gratification: sex, food, fantasy, alcohol, relationships, exercise, music, sports. The list could go on and on.

So, unless you value nothing, then everyone worships. The real question is, what does the object of your attention say about what you value the most? Whatever or whomever it is that you name as the greatest value–that defines who you are.

Robert Oppenheimer was the one man responsible for the development for the atomic bomb the United States used against Japan at the close of World War II. As a teacher at the California Institute of Technology, Oppenheimer was considered one of the top ten theoretical physicists in the world, specializing in the study of sub-atomic particles and gamma rays. From 1943 he began directing 4500 men and women at Los Alamos, New Mexico. Their sole purpose was to build an atomic bomb. Two years and two billion dollars later, they had successfully detonated the first atomic bomb. When he saw what he had made, Robert Oppenheimer underwent a radical reconsideration of his values. Upon seeing the first fireball and mushroom cloud, he quoted from the Bhagavad-Gita, “I am become death.” Two months later he resigned his position at Los Alamos and spent much of the remainder of his life trying to undo the damage, trying to get the genie of atomic weapons back in the bottle.

There are certain individuals who, in a flash, see that all they once valued is really of no lasting value at all. Their entire life has been turned on its head. Everything is upside down. Priorities change. Objects of desire shift around. They see with painful clarity that the very things they prized most in life can be, in reality, inexpensive novelties, or at worst, destructive achievements. Whatever or whomever it is that you name as the greatest value–that defines who you are.

Think about that as we turn back to Revelation 5. John describes a scene of worship pushed to the ultimate limits. In this passage the creation says, “Jesus, you have the greatest value of anyone or anything else, hands down, bar none.” The angels, and elders and creatures all say, “Jesus, you are worthy. YOU ARE WORTHY to receive power, riches, wisdom, strength, honor, glory, and blessing.”

Why worship? For one reason alone–because Jesus is worthy. Why is Jesus worthy? Because he is the Lamb.

This is one of the most important images in the whole book of Revelation. When all seems hopeless – when it seems like the power of evil gets the final word, John hears the roaring of a lion. Image what he feels when he hears that noise: the spine-chilling sound of a muscular and ferocious animal that has the ability to tear him limb from limb. When he turns to look at the lion, he is instantly surprised and confused. Instead of a lion, he actually sees a lamb, standing as thought it had been slain. God fulfills the hopes and needs of humanity, and we see it in the vision of a resuscitated lamb. Not a lion. A lamb. God’s power is not the kind of power that manipulates people to worship through fear and force. God’s power is the power of self-giving love. God wins people over by loving them and inviting them to choose a new life. All the forces of evil could not conquer love by killing Jesus the Lamb. Jesus conquered evil. He did not retaliate. He did it through non-coercive love.

Now remember I said that whatever it is that you ascribe the greatest value to–that defines who you are? I think that worshiping the Lamb defines you as a lamb. In other words, worshiping Christ defines you as a Christian – a follower of Christ’s ways. Worshiping Jesus demonstrates that you are a person who can put your trust in Christ, even in most dismal circumstances. You might have doubts along the way. But somewhere deep inside, you know that Jesus is worthy, and you value the self-giving love of Christ above anyone or anything else. The Lamb has power because the Lamb stood up. When the power of evil wanted to sit him down, the lamb lives as a resistant force – a symbol of resurrected defiance against that which wants to keep us tied to deadly ways. And the Lamb’s overcoming power is available to those who see his risen life as our highest value. We see the Lamb who was slain and we order our lives according to the values of God’s Kingdom. We see the Lamb who was slain and we live our days with inclusive love and compassion. We see the Lamb who was slain and we forgive as we have been forgiven; we show mercy as God has shown mercy. We see the Lamb who was slain and we remember that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate us from God’s love.

Why worship God? Because the Lamb is worthy! The Lamb is worthy of blessing and honor and glory and power, forever and ever.

In honor of the beginning of baseball season, here’s a little story from a couple of decades ago. In 1988 Orel Herschiser pitched an unbelievable season for the Los Angeles Dodgers. In the World Series, his complete game victory over the Oakland A’s in game five clinched the series for the Dodgers. Orel was awarded the Cy Young award and two MVP awards, one for the National League and the other for the World Series.

During the play-offs, the TV cameras zoomed in on Orel in the dugout between innings singing softly to himself. Unable to make out the tune, the announcers merely commented that Orel’s record certainly gave him something to sing about. All of this to-do was over a fellow who was cut from his high school baseball team, who couldn’t make the traveling squad of his college team, who almost quit in the minors, who never quite looked the part he was trying to play.

Johnny Carson replayed the tape on the Tonight Show a few days later when Orel appeared as a guest. Johnny asked him what song he had been singing during the game and if Orel would sing it again right then and there. The audience roared its approval over Orel’s embarrassed reluctance. So, on national TV, Orel softly sang the words TV crews had barely caught on tape.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise him all creatures here below;
Praise him above ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”
Orel Hershiser did what God’s people do. He was praising God. When it comes right down to it, nothing or nobody else can do what Jesus does for you. Human ingenuity is not going to save you. Medicine might prolong life, but it won’t give you the new and abundant life that Jesus promises. Seeking pleasure only brings temporary enjoyment before one needs to seek the next thrill. But I promise you, nobody else is going to do for you what Jesus did. Nobody else is going to love you like Jesus does. Nothing else is going to gratify like Jesus. To me, that gives Jesus the highest value. The Christ, the Lamb is worthy of praise.


Sources:
Paul Basden in The Worship Maze (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity, 1999), 15.
http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a z/v/values.htm
William Barclay, Jesus as They Saw Him (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1962), 311.
Ted Grismund, Triumph of the Lamb (Scottsdale: Herald Press, 1987), 55-56.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1068107/1/index.htm
Brain Blount, ed., True to Our Native Land, An African American NT Commentary, 533.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Easter Sunday, 2010 -- "Startled, but Not Scared"

I usually preach with a full manuscript. This Easter sermon was more of an improvisational-style sermon. I scribbled an outline on a piece of paper and spoke from my heart. There is no manuscript -- but you can listen in the player below. There are a few more sermon PodCasts in the player on the left pane --mbb







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Sermon for October 6, 2019

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