Advent Week One: The Return of the King - "A Long Expected Party"

When I was growing up in the non liturgical, "low" church Baptist churches we frequented, the season of Advent was not something we celebrated... or discussed... or had ever heard of before.  It was not part of our language.  I suppose this was the case because the powers-that-be in the fundamentalist churches I attended thought things like "advent" and "candles" were too "Catholic" for "church."  I put a lot of things in quotes just then.

And while most church-going folk probably won't give a second thought to Advent or it's meaning, I think that it's making a bit of a comeback outside the church.  For example, I just bought a Star Wars Lego Advent calendar at Target, which is the retail chain famous for encouraging it's employees say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." Boom. 

There are undoubtedly some within the sound of my voice (or key strokes) who might be saying at this point, "So...exactly what is Advent anyway?"  And perhaps more importantly, "Why should we care?" 

The easy answer to the first question is that the season of Advent is the four or so weeks leading up to Christmas.  The answer to the second question is a bit more complicated.  

You see, "advent" is a word that essentially means "expectation," and the season of Advent is an expectant season.  For centuries, Christians around the world have celebrated the season of Advent as a time of preparation for the arrival of the Christ Child.  It is a season to reflect on the fact that even though Jesus came into this world to show the light of love, the world is still not as it should be.  One of the great theologians of the twentieth century, Karl Barth, once wrote about Advent that it reminds us we are "living between the times."  In other words, we are living between the Nativity and the Return of Jesus.  

The right celebration of Advent, with it's emphasis on the hope, peace, joy and love that Christ ushered into the world, serves to remind us of God's promises to His people, and the ways that God has kept those promises time and again--most specifically with the promise of the Messiah, God's Son... Jesus, who came to show us what God is really like.  

Advent also serves as an Anticipation of the return of the King--the king of Kings, this same Jesus who faithful Christians expect will one day return to set things to right once and for all.  A king that has come, and is coming.  A king that has arrived, and is among us "in secret" to one day be revealed in stunning glory...  I dunno.  That's fairly awesome. 

The inspiration for our Advent sermon series this year comes from the most famous stories of two of the most well-known and beloved authors from the twentieth century:  C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.  Both men were professors at Oxford in England, and both were students of mythology.  They were also both devout Christians.  Lewis would go on to become one of the most respected and revered Christian theologians, but he owed his conversion to Christianity in large part to the witness of his friend Tolkien.  C.S. Lewis wrote his allegorical fantasy series, The Chronicles of Narnia as a way of conveying deep Christian truths in the form of a "children's book."  Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy along with The Hobbit were allegories of their own, full of Christian imagery. 

In the works of both Lewis and Tolkien we see one over-arching theme: the theme of Advent.  A new day has dawned... and the king is returning to set things right. It's a reminder... and an anticipation.  

And much like the way our own culture views the season of Advent---some people are full of expectation and ready... and others aren't.  Some people are waiting for the unexpected arrival of the expected king... and others aren't.  Some people are ready for the party... and others aren't.  

Both The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings begin with unexpected guests and parties.  I don't think it's a coincidence.  

There's something about unexpected guests that teaches us lessons in readiness. On more than one occasion I've had friends or family members show up at my door for a "visit" because they just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought they would "drop by" without calling first.  And these visits typically happen when your house is a wreck, dishes are piled in the sink and you are clad in the ripped, torn and nasty sweat pants and shirt that you put on to wash the dog, which is now running around the house rubbing her wet fur on all of the furniture, and being chased by your youngest kid who is not wearing pants for some unknown reason.

There are some friends and family members who you are cool with seeing you like that---but they are typically the ones that always give you a heads up first.   

We know what this is like---to be caught off guard.  Maybe it's that moment when that family you met at that thing you went to takes you up on your offer to come and visit the next time they are "down this way."  And because you live near Walt Disney World, they make a point to come "down this way" when you weren't really expecting or wanting any four-day guests.  And they need a car. And want you to have dinner waiting when they come back--even if when they come back is like dark-thirty in the morning.

In case you were wondering.  That actually happened to me.

But what about when we get caught seriously off-guard---not just when we get unexpected guests?  What about when we forgot about a deadline at work, and our co-worker didn't.  What about that chance we had to invest in that incredible deal, or piece of property only we didn't have any cash on hand to do it, because we ran through all of our savings?

What about that opportunity we had to do good--to give to those in need, to help that person who was in dire straits, to share our faith, to volunteer our time, to share our money... and we didn't do it, we weren't ready, weren't prepared...

There's nothing worse than the regret of unfulfilled potential.  In fact, it could be said that unfulfilled potential, missed opportunities to be our best selves... is the greatest tragedy of all.  And I believe that those moments when we are called upon to be our best selves are moments that are full of the presence of Jesus.

I think that the most important lesson we can learn from the season of Advent is to expect the unexpected---to be ready when the time comes to experience the "return of the king," so to speak---the arrival of Jesus.

Here's the thing: just like the in the stories that Lewis' and Tolkien told---I believe that the Jesus, king has landed, quietly, behind enemy lines---and all of these years the king has been drawing his people, the true, loyal subjects to his side.  And further, the king has been slowly changing things---darkness is becoming light, winter is turning into spring, evil is being overcome with good... slowly, in moments... one heart at a time.

What I want us to know on this first Sunday of Advent is simply this...

Jesus arrives in moments... Be ready and willing. 

There is this really strange moment in the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus tries to tell his disciples that they need to be ready for the unexpected... that there are moments coming when he will be present, and they need to have their eyes wide open to see them...

36 “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.

Jesus is talking about the Day of the Lord, the day of judgement, which many Jewish scholars believed was a time in the future when the Messiah would return and set things to right for Israel. What Jesus taught was that this Day of the Lord was for everyone, and was not only going to happen it was also happening. I know.  That's kind of deep and strange.  Let's keep reading, though.    

37 As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; 39 and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away.

Notice how Jesus doesn't say anything about how wicked people were in the days of Noah, which is the reason given the Old Testament for why God judged the earth.  What he focuses on here is just the ordinary-ness of everything--the way that people walked around thinking that they were invincible, that nothing could shake them out of their routines, their lives, their comfortable existence.  

That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. 41 Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left. 42 “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.

There are three dominant ways people read this passage.  Some people believe that it's a passage about the End Times, and is "proof" of something called the Rapture when certain people will be "snatched away" to heaven and other people will be "left behind" to judgement on earth.  There are others who believe this is a metaphor of the frailty of life and the unexpectedness of death.  Still others see this as a warning to be ready each and every day because we never know when we will be called upon to act on our faith.  The actual language of the passage doesn't help clear it up all that much, to be honest.  The word "taken" is literally translated "saved from danger," and the phrase "left behind" is literally translated "forsaken."  Some scholars believe that what Jesus was predicting here was the violent and sudden destruction of Jerusalem... could be.  Let's keep reading though.  

43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him. - Matthew 24:36-44

Jesus paints a picture of people who are caught off guard when the moment of truth arrives.  It's easy to get caught up in trying to figure out what this apocalyptic vision means and miss it's meaning, if you know what I... mean. 
Does it really matter which version of this is the "right" one?  The point is that when Jesus arrives--in all the moments when Jesus arrives--if you aren't ready, you'll regret it.  

Here's a question... When did you lose your readiness?  I know, I know... you don't think you have.  But here's how I know you probably have lost it...  We all have to some extent.  We get too comfortable in our lives---too caught up in the ordinary, too numbed by the ease of routine.  Or we have become resigned to what we believe is the "order of things," the "way things have always been done," or the way things are, according to us.  Perhaps we get tired of doing good when it doesn't seem to do any... good.  Which leads us to becoming jaded, cynical and prone to self-reliance.

And we miss the moments---the Jesus moments all around us.

In Florida we don't really see the leaves change all that much.  But for those of us who grew up elsewhere (most of the people in my church) we know what it's like to see the effects of Fall in the leaves of the trees all around us.  Did you know that the reason why the leaves on a tree are green is because of the effects of sunlight and chloroform?  And did you know that when cool weather turns off this effect, so to speak---the leaves revert to their true color?

I heard of a mom who was telling her children this very thing, and her daughter picked up a beautiful golden leaf, turned it over and over and said incredulously, "you mean it was always this color?"

Leaves are not ever purely green, and not everything is as it seems...  The beauty, the wonder, the resurrection, the revolution---is right... under... our noses.  You can be so caught up in what you think is the way things should be, and totally be missing Jesus---in everything.  

Jesus arrives in moments.

He arrives in the moments when your child asks you to play with him or read a book to her... right in the middle of whatever it is you were doing...

He arrives in the moments when you have a choice of working through the weekend, or spending time with your family...

He arrives in the moments when you need to decide to spend more money on stuff than on memories...

He arrives when you have that opportunity to tell someone you are a Christian, and you don't want to because you're afraid...

He arrives when you have the chance to give of yourself, or your time, or your money to change the life of someone in need...

He arrives to show you that the person you could be is kind, full of hope, expectant and joyful...

Jesus arrives in moments... be ready and willing.

I Am Second Week Three - Success

This week I am preaching the third installment of the three part sermon series, "I Am Second," which is based on the program by the same name.  You can find out more about I Am Second at www.iamsecond.com.  I Am Second is a program that helps connect people to Jesus in very earthy and messy ways---much like we relate to one another.  It's also bears witness to what can happen in your life when you place Jesus first.

What I love about I Am Second is that it uses the real testimonies of people who encountered Jesus and discovered that when they put him first, incredible things happen.  Many of the stories that you find on the I Am Second website are from celebrities and athletes, but there are more than a few from ordinary people with extraordinary testimonies.

Our study these past few weeks has taken us to the Gospel accounts of Jesus' life and through some incredible stories of transformation.  In each of the stories that we've studied, people encountered Jesus and were transformed so powerfully by the encounter that they desired to place him first in their life.

This week we're studying the story of Zacchaeus, from Luke chapter 19.  When I was a kid growing up in the Fairfield Road Baptist Church in Greenville, SC we used to sing a little song about Zacchaeus.  It went something like this:

"Zacchaeus was a wee little man,
and a wee little man was he.
He climbed up in a sycamore tree
For the Lord he wanted to see.
And when the Savior passed that way
He looked up in the tree.
And said, 'Zacchaeus, you come down!
For I'm going to your house today!
For I'm going to your house today!'

I sang this song... with gusto. So did you, you know you did.  In fact I bet your were singing it just now.  Lord knows, I was.  I am pretty certain that when I actually preach this in front of people that we'll all sing it together.

Why do we love this story, and this song so much?  What makes it so memorable that all of these many years after we stopped being kids (for some of us, it's like many, many, many years) we can still remember it?

I think that kids love the story of Zacchaeus because they often feel like they are at the back of the room, or behind the crowd and unable to see what's going on. This story reminds them that Jesus sees the "little people" and wants to hang out with them.

I think that adults love this story for many of the same reasons, but mostly because I think they realize just how costly and embarrassing it can be to get close to Jesus--especially when we're not exactly the most... holy... people.  And when Jesus sees us and calls us down, we feel---wanted, accepted, received...

These are all good things, I suppose.  But the fact of the matter is that the song doesn't really match the actual story.  What we learned in Sunday school probably doesn't go all that far below the surface of what was really happening in the text.

First and foremost... this is an amazing story that essentially demonstrates how Jesus redefines success.

Not to mention that it's a fantastic moment where Jesus' true mission is revealed, and it's a moment of real transformation for a man of whom I am sure no one expected transformation of any kind.

What happens to Zacchaeus in this story is nothing short of a miracle.  Undoubtedly there were all kinds of things that he thought to be true about himself, but none of those things matched up with what was true about what he did... everyday... in spite of what he might have believed.

We've all been in that place before, unfortunately.  We have all sorts of opinions about how the world should work, government should function and politicians should act, but instead of doing something about it, we'd rather sit in front of the television eating frozen dinners.  We know exactly what it takes to lose weight, eat healthy, exercise properly, but what we do is join a gym and then never go.

You see where I am going with this don't you?

Then we will say all kinds of things about how we believe in God, follow Jesus and love everybody like a good Christian ought to... But then we go to church when we have nothing better to do... never crack our Bibles or pray unless we're in trouble... and ignore the great needs of the world because someone else will handle it...

Or we say that we are generous, that we trust God with our money---and then we never share it, give sparingly and secretly think that tithing is for people who have more... or the preacher.

Here's one of the truest things that you will ever hear anyone say about the subject of success:  There can be no success if what we do is different than what we believe. 

So... if you go about saying that you're putting Jesus first in your life, but your actions, your life... your finances indicate otherwise...

Then most likely he's not... first in your life.

Let's take a look at Luke 19:1-10 to see what happened when a weasely, good for nothing rotten tax collector got the chance to encounter Jesus...and to put him first:

1. Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through.

Jericho was an oasis city on the other side of the Judean wilderness, across some gnarly mountains, south of Jerusalem.  It's not far from the Jordan River, and was the first city that the Hebrew people conquered under Joshua when they came out of the wilderness and moved toward the Promised Land.  This was a symbolic moment for Jesus as he basically retraced those steps...  

2 A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy.

Zacchaeus was not only a tax collector, which was bad enough business--he was a chief tax collector.  He had a bunch of nasty tax collectors under him and he got a cut of everything they collected.  He was like a Mafia capo.  When I think of Zacchaeus, I don't think of a "wee little man," a phrase that makes him seem like the leprechaun from the Lucky Charms commercials.  I think of Joe Pesci. You know who he is right?  The guy from Goodfellas.  "Am I funny to you?"  A nasty, loud, violent, sociopathic little man.  

3 He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. 4 So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way. 5 When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.”

I love it.  This is the last guy on earth that the crowds in Jericho would expect Jesus to want to hang out with.  Zacchaeus built his wealth by taking the money of his fellow townspeople.  He was crooked.  He took more than he needed, and definitely took more than what was owed.  His house would have gotten bigger and bigger, with more slaves, more luxuries, more of everything.  His neighbors would have seen this and cursed his name.  This is the very rich man that Jesus told his disciples was about as able to enter into the kingdom of heaven as a camel was able to pass through the "needle's eye."  But as he told them then---nothing is impossible with God. 

6 So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.

What caused Zacchaeus to climb up the tree to see Jesus?  Was it simply curiosity, or was it something more? Could it have been an innate desire to discover if there was really something to the message Jesus was teaching?  Could it have been a desire to change his life? To become... human again? I also love it how Jesus tells him that it is "necessary" to come to his house.  Of course it is.  

7 All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” 8 But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

The guy publicly gives away half of his money.  Then on top of that he vows to make fourfold restitution to anyone he has wronged---which was probably a lot of people.  The maximum that Jewish law demanded in terms of restitution was four times the amount stolen, and this was never imposed.

9 Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. 10 For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

This is a very revealing moment for Jesus.  He demonstrates his true mission.  He's not the kind of Messiah that anyone is expecting.  The Pharisees were trying to convince their fellow Jews that if they just obeyed the law and kept the rules, that God would love them, restore them and send his Messiah to rescue them.

But Jesus turns that on its ear.  HE IS THE MESSIAH precisely because he restores the ones who cannot be restored.  This is the true nature of the kingdom of God, a kingdom of grace and not law.

And suddenly, in the middle of all of this Zacchaeus is struck by how unbelievable the grace Jesus has shown him truly is---and he shows it by putting Jesus first.  For the first time in his life, perhaps, Zacchaeus knows what it's like to live rightly, justified and free.  When he completely turns over all that he is to God, including his wealth, his possessions, his... success.  He obtains something that he has not been able to achieve in all of those years of earthly success:  peace.

"Today," Jesus says, "salvation has come to this house..."

In his book Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning tells this parable:  It seems that there was a young man who had sinned so much that the church excommunicated him, and cast him out.  He was told that he was never welcomed there again.  He pleaded, and begged but to no avail.  He wanted to return, and repented of what he'd done, but could find no healing.  So he finally found his way to Jesus.  "Lord," he told Jesus, "they won't let me in because I am a sinner."  To which Jesus replied, "What are you complaining about? They won't let me in either."

I get it.  The church has not been the most hospitable place for broken and hurting people.  I once had some older church members in my former church complain about the kinds of people who were coming to our church.  Some of them were young, tatted up, pierced and played really loud music. Many of them wore jeans to church.  Most of them couldn't even spell Presbyterian. Some were recovering alcoholics.  They were all rough around the edges.  I told the complaining group  that our church was a hospital, not a country club. Some of the older church members got offended.

I wish they'd gotten offended about the way they said one thing and did another. Truth be told... I'm no better most of the time.

Here's the truth.  We are all sinners. We all hang in the back of the crowd, not really sure if we are worthy to meet Jesus.  We all climb the tree, afraid that we'll be discovered and that all of the things we've done to mismatch our outside from our inside will be revealed.

And Jesus simply walks up to us and says... Let's go to you house.  It's necessary that we go to your house.

Will you bring him home at last?  Will you trust him with your everything?   Will you do whatever it takes to be made right with God and with those in your life you may have wronged?

Will you put him first and yourself second?

Because: There can be no success if what we do is different than what we believe. 

I Am Second - Week One: "The Power of Story"

This week we are beginning the first of a three part series, featuring "I Am Second," a unique program that is designed to help connect people to Jesus in a very earthy, messy, awesome way.

So what does it mean to say "I Am Second?"  For me it means that I am constantly being reminded of my place in line when it comes to the things that truly matter.  It's a new way of knowing and being known---which is the fundamental desire of all human beings, really.  It's a new way of living life to the fullest, free from the burdens of doubt, fear and the expectations of others.  It's a new way of being defined by the relationship we have with Jesus... not by religion.

Jesus didn't come to live, die and be raised from the dead to form a religion.  I know that sounds kind of heretical to say---but there you go.  I have a t-shirt that has the word "Heretic"emblazoned on the front of it.  I was wearing it when I met Andy Stanley, the pastor of one of the largest churches in America:

This is me, meeting Andy Stanley in my "heretic" shirt.  He said to me, "Nice shirt."

We had a moment.

Don't try to take that away from me with your disparaging thoughts.

So if saying that Jesus desires a relationship with him over my adherence to some religion makes me a heretic, what I am trying to explain is that I have been there, done that and... I got the dang t-shirt.

This week we will begin our I Am Second series with "The Power of Story," and the study of one of the most famous stories in the Bible---The Woman at The Well.

But first, I have to tell you a story of my own--since this sermon is about stories, and who gets to tell them, basically.

When I was in tenth grade I was a second string forward on my school's varsity basketball team.  The guy who played my position was a senior, and he had been a starter for two years.  I was prepared to "ride the pine," as they say, for the entire season.  I practiced hard, but I always knew that I was second string.  During games I would just sort of sit there and have conversations with the other second string dudes, and look down the bench at my coach every so often to see if he was remotely interested in putting me in the game.

The guy starting ahead of me never got tired.  So I road the pine, and every so often went in for a few seconds.

We played a couple of preseason games, and were doing pretty well.  Our coach told us that he had high hopes for us that year.  Then one evening we were practicing and the guy who started in front of me went up for a rebound, and came down on someone's foot.  His knee twisted grotesquely, and he screamed in pain.  It was a torn ACL, we found out later.

I remember the coach putting his hand on my shoulder that night and looking at me with a serious expression on his face.  "It's on you now," he told me.  I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that.  All I knew was that his hand felt heavy on my shoulder, and the weight of what he said felt even heavier.

I was not ready.  I was not skilled enough.  There were a lot of "nots" you could attach to the description of me at that point.  But what I was, was next up.  All of a sudden, I was in the game.  I practiced with new intensity.  I focused harder every moment we went over plays...

I've learned a few things in life, and this is one of the more important things I've picked up along the way:  When it comes to a life of faith, there is a difference between being in the game than being on the bench.

I've also learned that it's a choice how you deal with that.  When it comes to faith, it's easy to keep a "bench" mindset when you feel like there is no chance that you will ever get in the game.  You can find a comfortable routine, stay in the same sort of ruts, so to speak and just be content watching other people play.  Theres not a lot of risk in that kind of life.  Maybe you feel like you're not good enough to play---or not ready.  Maybe you feel like your faith skills, your understanding of God isn't strong enough for you to get off your seat.

But if you were being honest, you would have to say that you would never willingly choose routine and ruts over the adrenaline rush of peeling off your sweats and running out on to the court.  I realize that's a basketball analogy---so feel free to use your own.  You get the picture, though.

Here's the thing.  We've all been in bench mode at one point in time or another in our faith journey.  Maybe some of us are in bench mode right now.  We're bored with church and with religion.  We're too busy to really commit.  We're too distracted by other things in our life, or maybe we're too disillusioned by religion to stand up and get in the game.

Some of us have been on the bench so long we don't even know how to play.

Some of us don't even know if we're on the team.

And most of us feel like there is no way that God would ever want us to do big important things like tell his story.  We never would suspect that God would actually want us to get in the game.

Here's something else that I've learned over the years---  God uses unexpected people to tell his story.  

I wasn't ready to come off the bench, but when the time came---ready or not, I did it.  The truth of the matter was that I was tired of riding the bench, tired of watching other people play.  I just didn't know how much until I was being called into the game.

There's this awesome story in the life of Jesus about a woman who found herself in a similar situation.  It's a well known story that most of us know by the name it's been given in those little Bible subtitles we see under the chapter headings.  This is the story of the Woman at The Well.

Now he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a town in Samaria
called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) John 4:4-9

To say that Jews and Samaritans hated one another was an understatement.  The divide between them was deep and wide, made all the more intense by the fact that the Samaritans claimed to worship God just as the Jews, but did not worship God in the Temple.  They had their own place of worship, which the Jews deemed illegitimate.  So there was a deep racial divide between Jesus and the woman, and there was also a deep gender divide.  A good Jewish man would never speak to a woman alone, much less a Samaritan woman.

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.” He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.” “I have no husband,” she replied. John 4:13-18

We suddenly realize that there is so much more to this story, and we also realize why this woman is by herself at the well during the heat of the day.  All of the other women in the village had come to draw water earlier when it was cooler.  This woman waited until she was sure there would be no one there to meet her, and she did this because she doesn't want to face their scrutiny:

"I know you don't have a husband," Jesus replies.  "You have had five of them.  And the man you are living with now is not your husband."

We don't know what her situation was exactly.  Maybe she started off as a widow, and then married a relative, and then another... and another.  Maybe she had become such a liability that no one would marry her any longer. Perhaps she had been forced to turn to prostitution, and the man she was living with was selling her.  We have no idea.  All we know is that her life has been full of disappointments, tragedy, pain and shame.  It's no wonder she wants to be alone at the well.

Lucky for her she found Jesus there.

And like a lot of people who are confronted with the truth of themselves, she changes the subject.  "I see that you are a prophet," she says. "Let's talk about religion, then."  I added that last bit, but essentially that's what she does.  She says to Jesus, "You Jews say that the only place to worship is in the Temple, but my ancestors have been worshipping on this mountain longer than yours have been worshipping in the Temple..." that's my paraphrase of what she was saying between the lines.

Have you ever had a conversation about faith with someone and as soon as things started to get real, they begin saying things like, "There's lots of ways to get to God..." or "You believe what you want to believe, and I'll believe what I want..."

Jesus tells the woman, "Listen, things are changing.  God is revealing himself in ways that transcend religion.  He's calling you into a relationship with him, and I am here to give you that relationship."  I am totally paraphrasing now, but that's essentially what he told her.  Then this happened:

Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” They came out of the town and made their way toward him. John 4:28-30

 Jesus shows this woman that he knows her... really knows her.  And that the life she was living was not even close to the full life she was being called to lead.  And that this new way of life was not defined by religion, but by a relationship---with him.

He invited her to come off the bench and get into the game.

And so she did.  Despite her past, despite the scandals and the stares... despite the taunts and the cruelty... she suddenly could think of nothing else but going back into her village and telling the very people who had heaped all of those things and then some upon her that Jesus had changed her life.

I think that the missing lesson in this passage is that this woman was the last person you would expect to share her story... and Jesus chose her.

What's your story?  Why do you think it's not worth telling?  Do you think your sins are too great, your transgressions too grievous?  What is it?  Are your doubts and fears too much for you?  Do you find your spot on the bench comfortable because you don't want to have to face the possibility that you might get called into the game... and you're not ready.

Guess what?  You're not.  Neither am I.  Neither was the woman at the well.  But she realized something very important.  Jesus knew her... and he called her anyway.

Mary was a woman in the very first church that I served.  She was a small, frail old lady who didn't have a lot of tact.  She always seemed to tick everyone off with her brusque and forward demeanor---especially when it came to food drives and fund raisers to prevent hunger.  Mary was pushy.  She would annoy the dickens out of our pastor, elders and eventually even me with her ideas about doing bigger, better food drives to stock the local food pantries or raise money for our Presbytery's hunger initiatives.  She hung posters, made announcements, wrote newsletter articles...  Mary would make you feel like absolute crap if you didn't help her.

Finally one day I asked her why she was so driven about hunger issues.  I did it after a particularly stressful encounter with her over space on the bulletin board in the church hall.  She wanted all of it.  We couldn't give it to her.  This was inconceivable to her.  "Why does this matter so much to you Mary?" I asked her. She looked at me for a moment with her piercing blue eyes---angry and defiant.  Then she softened a bit and told me a story.

Her son had been a drug addict.  He moved to New York with his girlfriend who was also a drug addict.  They had a son together, but the girlfriend left eventually.  Mary's son was raising his three year-old son in squalor, getting high, leaving him with neighbors... letting him go hungry.  When Mary arrived, she found her grandson sitting in an apartment that was devoid of food... he'd had nothing to eat for days.

She told me that she had always been Christian, but had never really been a Jesus-follower, and had never really done all that much to further his cause.  On that day, as she gathered her hungry, think grandson into her arms... she got in the game.  "I swore," she told me "that in the name of Jesus, I wouldn't rest as long as I knew there was one hungry child in the world."

I gave Mary the whole bulletin board.

You may not be ready.  You may have a messed up passed.  You may think that you are absolutely the last person on earth that God would want on his team.

But he wants you in the game.  Isn't it time you got off the bench?  Isn't it time you told your story---the story of how God loved you in spite of yourself, and gave your life new meaning?  Maybe that part of the story needs to be written today. You can totally embrace that.

Just know this...

God uses unexpected people to tell his story.  

I Am Second Week Two - "Struggles"

This week I am preaching the second in a three-part sermon series based on the "I Am Second" program.  This program is designed to connect people to Jesus in earthy, messy and awesome ways.  I describe it like this because that's the way human beings relate to one another, and to the world---and the way that God tends to want to relate to us, when we are paying close enough attention to see it.

As I see it, the I Am Second program invites us to a new way of knowing and being known.  It invites us to begin living life to the fullest.  It invites us to a new way of being defined by a relationship with Jesus, not by religion.  And the stories that we're studying over the next several weeks demonstrate the kind of transformation into this new way of living and being that occurs when people encounter Jesus.

In fact, this particular sermon is going to focus on a story of dramatic transformation when a man who is plagued by a host of demons comes face to face with Jesus.  This man was in the middle of some serious struggles--he'd lost everything.  And in the middle of his struggles Jesus shows up and gives him strength and healing.

Before we dig into the story, though I have to make a confession.
When I was a senior in high school, I made my English teacher cry.

It's not something I am especially proud of, honestly.  And come to think of it, she should have thicker skin.  But it happened.  I made her cry.  It happened because I was struggling with my faith, which isn't exactly an excuse for making someone cry, but it sort of explains my action at the time.

I had reached this point in my life where I had seen way too much hypocrisy within the Church.  I thought that Christianity was just a system of beliefs like any other system of beliefs, just not as fun.  I also knew enough about the Bible to know when it was being taken out of context, misused or otherwise abused in order to enforce rules I thought to be arbitrary and capricious.  The fact that I attended a fundamentalist Baptist church school didn't help matters any.

I wasn't that sure that I believed in God, and I decided that even if I did, my God didn't look at all like the God people like my English teacher worshipped. I figured that God didn't really seem to care all that much about what I said or did and that my non-Christian friends were no different than my so-called Christian friends.  I was starting to think that everything I had been taught about God was nothing but a fabrication.

So one day my poor English teacher said something about the Bible and holiness or something in class---something about how if a person doesn't lead a holy life, they're not doing what the Bible says, and if they don't do what the Bible says then you have to wonder if they are even saved.  And I began to lash out at her.  I quoted Scripture to her, I countered every thing she tried to say in her defense with derisive and superior arguments.  I wanted everyone in the room to see that she was wrong, to point out the holes in her statements of faith. To see how flimsy her ideas were...

And it worked.  She realized she was backed into a corner.  She had nothing to say in response to my onslaught of angry rhetoric.  So she burst into tears.

Everyone got mad at me.  I was suddenly a jerk.   My English teacher's husband cornered me the next day and threatened to beat me up.  I retreated. I was sorry for what happened, but never would admit it.  In the middle of my struggle with faith, with God, with Church---there were casualties.  I did my best to just act normally, but I worried deep inside that things were never going to be "normal" for me again.

I also realized that when we are waist deep and sinking in the struggles of life, we can drag other people down with us.

Life is not without struggle.  The tricky part is how we live and move in the middle of the struggles we encounter. How do we find hope, peace and joy in the middle of struggles?  Is it even possible?  And what do we do when the struggles never seem to end?

We've all been there.  Many of us face physical struggles---with disease or chronic illness.  Some of us face mental struggles, either with depression, anger, grief and pain.  Others of us face spiritual struggles with fear and doubt.  And some of us struggle emotionally with sexuality, addiction, relationships...

And sometimes we take casualties as we struggle... and sometimes we're numbered among them.

What I've discovered over time is that how we face our struggles can make all the difference in the world---we can choose to face them alone, or we can embrace a truth that's bigger than any of the struggles we face:

God heals and gives you strength through your struggles.  

I know some of your are thinking, "Leon that sounds good... But what do you do when things are so bad... you can't see the end in sight?  What do you do when it's hard to believe?"

I think that the story we're studying today will give us some insight into the way Jesus responded to these questions.  We're going to be reading Mark 5:1-20

1.  They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes.

This is an area that the Gospels commonly refer to as "the other side."  It's the shore of the Sea of Galilee that is opposite the Jewish fishing villages where Jesus spent most of his ministry.  The towns that dotted the hillside on "the other side" were Greek cities known as the Decapolis.  

2 When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an impure spirit came from the tombs to meet him. 3 This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain. 4 For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. 5 Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.

This man is in seriously bad shape.  He's afflicted by spirits, homeless, outcast, broke and alone.  He is plagued by debilitating and life-threatening addictions and unyielding habits.  All efforts to cure him have been hopeless.  He lives in the graveyard---he's as good as dead.  He's lost his family, his livelihood, his home... his struggles have cost him.  His plight seems hopeless.  

6 When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him.

I love this.  Everything is messed up.  They guy has no hope of ever being right, but he sees Jesus "from a distance" and runs to him.  

7 He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name don’t torture me!” 8 For Jesus had said to him, “Come out of this man, you impure spirit!” 9 Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” “My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” 10 And he begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of the area.

The Scripture is mysterious here.  There are so many things wrong with this guy that they can't be numbered.  The spirits inside him just indicate that they are "many," and for some reason don't want to be cast out of the area of the Decapolis.  

11 A large herd of pigs was feeding on the nearby hillside. 12 The demons begged Jesus, “Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them.” 13 He gave them permission, and the impure spirits came out and went into the pigs. The herd, about two thousand in number, rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.

It's kind of weird and awesome that Jesus does this.  Pigs were unclean to Jews, and this gesture is kind of a tongue in cheek way of shaking up the people of this area.  The moment of transformation for this man is so incredible that his entire surroundings get transformed along with him.  

14 Those tending the pigs ran off and reported this in the town and countryside, and the people went out to see what had happened. 15 When they came to Jesus, they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons, sitting there, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. 16 Those who had seen it told the people what had happened to the demon-possessed man—and told about the pigs as well. 17 Then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region.

Let's get this straight...  They see a man who was so possessed by evil that he could not be held with chains... a man that had lost everything... that ran naked through the graveyards... they see this man sitting with Jesus, dressed and in his right mind and they want him to leave???  You know, sometimes when you get delivered from your struggles, there will be people who don't get it, and who will never see... 

18 As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. 19 Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” 20 So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.

The man wants to go with Jesus---wouldn't you?  But Jesus sends him back into his life as a witness.  It would have been very easy for the man to go and follow Jesus.  But Jesus knew that he would be a greater witness if he stayed in his home region and testified to the people who knew him and had seen his struggle...  

The awesome part of this story is that the man didn't know that much about Jesus, but he turned to him.  And after he was restored, he still didn't know everything he wanted to about Jesus, but he knew that he healed him.  He didn't know how, but Jesus had showed up in his struggle and seen him through it.

There had been casualties in his life.  Lots of them.  But when the moment came for him to choose whether he would continue alone, or would rush to the One who would see him through---he ran to Jesus.

What struggles are you facing?  Do they seem as though they are too much for you to bear?  Have you taken casualties as you struggle?  How would your family answer that question?  Your friends?

As you have been sinking in your struggle... who are you dragging down with you?  What have you lost as a result of trying to struggle alone?

Here's the thing.  Jesus is not interested in having more fans.  He's got lots of fans.  People who buy his t-shirts and come to his shows.  He's not interested in more religious people.  There are way too many of those, who just show up and go through the motions---repeating rituals to make themselves feel better for just a few more moments.

What Jesus wants is for you to run to him.  He wants all that you've got to give... even if it's not very much and even if you've run through every ounce of faith you've got...

Because in the end, what he knows is that He will be enough to get you through... even when it seems as though things won't get any better.

Pastor Ed Dobson was the pastor of a mega-church in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  He preached to thousands of people each week and had seen his ministry grow to unbelievable heights.  Then he discovered that he had contracted ALS, Lou Gherig's disease, a debilitating neurological disease that would eventually kill him.  He was told that he had two to five year to live.  He had never faced a struggle like this in his life.  It was then that all of the words he ever preached came to land upon him like a ton of bricks.

So he decided to spend at least one of the years he had left living like Jesus.

Here's is essentially what he learned...


As his muscles began to fail... as his movements became labored... as the voice he had used to preach the Gospel for years of his life cracked... Ed decided that he wasn't strong enough to struggle on his own.

So he ran to Jesus.  And he found healing.  His body may still be wracked with disease---but his spirit is free and soaring to new heights of joy and hope.

There are times when Ed wishes that he could just go home to Jesus.  That Jesus would just let him get into the boat and sail away.... But for these past several years Jesus has sent Ed back to his village, so to speak to bear witness to what Jesus has done and is doing in his life.

I don't know where you are struggling, but I do know this.  Jesus is near.  Run to him.  Let him heal you.  He will see you through it.

The Elijah Chronicles - Chapter Three: "In The Silence"

This week we'll be concluding the sermon series "The Elijah Chronicles," a series where we re-imagined the story of the prophet Elijah as though it were set in a post-apocalyptic future.  The world is desolate in our story.  There is an evil king, a military dictator if you will, who is persecuting those who worship God and advocating the worship of idols instead.  There is a remnant, a small group that refuses to give in---the Resistance.

When we last saw Elijah, he had just experienced the most incredible victory of his life---the defeat of the prophets of Baal, the false god that the wicked king Ahab and his detestable wife Jezebel were forcing the people of Israel to worship.  God had sent fire from heaven to demonstrate his power, and his continued relationship with the Hebrew people, and the story ended with the people crying out "The Lord is God!" before executing all the evil prophets of Baal.  It was a huge win for the Resistance, and for Elijah.

The battle was won, but when you read the first verses of 1 Kings chapter 19, you wouldn't know it.  They say:

"Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2 So Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah to say, “May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them.”

And then we read this:

"And Elijah was afraid and ran for his life."

Elijah is on top of the world.  He just prayed and fire fell from heaven.  He took on four hundred and fifty crazy prophets who were willing to cut themselves in a worship frenzy---and he beat them.  He stared down Ahab, the most powerful man in Israel and Ahab blinked---then ran home and whined to his wife.

But all it took was one negative comment, one nasty word and he is despondent.

I am so glad that I am not all like that, aren't you?  We've progressed as human beings to such a superior place.  That was sarcasm.  I know you knew that.

So Elijah makes a run for it.  He flees into the desert, collapses underneath a broom tree, and tells God that he's done for... it's all over... he's as good as dead.  The voices in his head--echoing the threat of Jezebel, the noise that he couldn't escape... all of it led him to a place of serious doubt and separation from God that made him forget everything God had done for him.

Then God sends an angel who pokes him awake and gives him something to eat.  An angel with heavenly food.  At that point Elijah springs up and says, "I get it, God!  You will never leave me!  I am so sorry for doubting you!"

Nope. He goes to sleep.  Seriously.  We would never react that way, would we?  God provides for us, gives us blessings, shows up in mighty ways in our life to demonstrate his goodness and love---but we ignore all that, and go back to feeling sorry for ourselves in a ball on the couch, with some ice cream and a Lifetime original series marathon featuring all the work of Valerie Bertinelli.

Good thing we've progressed.

So God sends the angel again after Elijah's nap and gives him more food.  So this is the moment when Elijah wakes up, chows down and then heads back into the fray--determined to face down Ahab and Jezebel once and for all, unafraid of what comes next because the God-of-The-Angel-Armies is by his side.

Actually, he doesn't.   Instead, he heads in the OPPOSITE direction and travels for 40 days and 40 nights (where have we heard that number before?) toward Mt. Sinai (or Horeb, if you prefer) where Moses first received the Ten Commandments right after the Hebrew people escaped from Egypt.

Why did he want to go there?  It was a symbolic move on his part. His journey back to Sinai retraced the steps of his ancestors who wandered in the wilderness for forty years (bingo!) before coming to the Promised Land.  So there's that.

But I think it was something deeper than that.  Elijah wanted to go to the one place he figured he would find God.  With all of the voices ringing in his head, with all of the noise and chaos of a world turned upside down...  He wanted to just know that God was there...

I took a noise inventory at my house last week.  And by inventory, I mean I just took note of all of the noise and chaos, which turned out to be an eye opening experience.  With two young boys that are full of vim and vigor (what the heck does that mean?) and schedules that are as jam packed as you can get them, my wife and I experience a lot of noise in our life together.

There was this moment last week that kind of freaked me out.  Each person in the house was engaged in front of a different television.  I was watching football, my three year old was watching some annoying show on Disney Jr and the volume was cranked pretty loud.  My middle son was playing a video game, and my wife was watching a Lifetime original movie about some guy who murdered his wife, starring the guy who used to play Superman on Lois and Clark. The three year old was running around the house brandishing a cutlass and a pirate pistol, chasing my poor cat who was meowing as loud as she could while she fled from him.  We were shouting at one another because that was the only way you could hear what the other family members were saying.  My phone kept making noise because I was carrying on conversations with friends and family via text, and I kept getting updates from Sports Center about the game I was currently watching.

And the dog next door was barking...constantly.

Noise is all around us.  We can't seem to escape it, and more often than not we embrace it rather than run from it.  We surround ourselves with noise quite willingly.  Most of us are never disconnected, never silent, never still.  We are constantly carrying on conversations on our cell phones, watching videos on our iPads, or listening to music on our "i-pizzles" as the younger, hipper people call them. We are never really away from the office, because most of us carry the office with us at all times.  We have 24-hour news channels that are constantly droning on and on in the background of our lives, telling us that things aren't okay in the world, and that what we need to make things okay is to be more connected, more busy, and listen to more noise.  

Some of us might try to act all superior at this point and say, "That's not me!  I don't need noise in my life!  I don't carry one of those so-called smart phones, I still read an honest to goodness newspaper, and I don't turn on the TV news until 6 PM.  And I only answer email ONCE A DAY!"

But what about the long conversations on the phone with our anxious gossiping friend, who can't stop talking about how messed up our other friends are... Or the ongoing feud we are having with that neighbor who does nothing but annoy us... Or the way we just can't be at peace with your family members... Or the constant hum of anxiety that we have at our job because of office politics, stress over a promotion or co-workers who drive us crazy...

We are all affected by the noise around us... It's like we willingly embrace it.  When I lived in downtown Chicago, I got so used to the constant noise of the city that when I moved back to Florida, I couldn't sleep that well at night for a while because it was too quiet.  I even found myself missing the noise, and trying to find ways to replace it.

What if... and this might land on some of us pretty hard... what if we did all of this on purpose?

What if we were trying not to hear?  

People say that God no longer speaks to us---"That stuff happened in the Bible," the say, "but it doesn't happen now."

But what if---God never... stopped... speaking... ?

And what if on some level, we know this to be true... but we don't really want to hear what God has to say?  Maybe... just maybe... it would explain why we want to have so much noise around us.

What I think is that It's Not That God Isn't Speaking.  We're Not Listening.

The story of Elijah is a great example of how sometimes the noise has to be stripped away from our lives---both the noise on the outside, and more importantly, the noise that clangs incessantly on the inside, in our head, our very spirit.

Elijah finds himself at Mt. Sinai, the very place where Moses experienced God's presence for 40 days and 40 nights while God imparted the covenant God would have with the people of Israel.  If there was anyplace on earth, Elijah figured, that he would be able to find God---it was on Mt. Sinai.

Have you ever been at the end of your rope... completely stressed by a crisis... and suddenly you decided to go to church?

So there's Elijah on Mt. Sinai waiting to hear from God, and then this happens:

9 There he went into a cave and spent the night. And the word of the Lord came to him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 10 He replied, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.” 11 The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:9-13)

I love how this progresses.  It's such a heartbreaking conversation.  God speaks to Elijah, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm alone." Elijah replies.

"Let me show you that you are not," God says.

"I'm scared," Elijah must have said.

Then came the wind, and the earthquake and the fire...

"There is so much noise!" Elijah must have cried out.  "Where are you?!?"

Then everything fell quiet...

The phrase that is translated "gentle whisper" here is more accurately translated, "a sound of sheer silence."  No sound.  Silence.

God: "Can you hear me now, Elijah? Really?"  

Elijah: "Yes." 

God: "What are you doing here?"  

Elijah: "I'm alone..."  

God: "No you are not.  I am with you."  

Elijah: "Have you always been with me?" 

God:  "You know that I have."  

There is a place on the other side of the storm and noise, on the other side of the struggle and the deafening thunder, where Elijah could finally hear what mattered.  

There is a man named Bernie Krause who has been in the business of recording sounds of all kinds for nearly fifty years.  He relates how in 1968 all it took was 15 hours of recording out in nature to get one hour's worth of sound that didn't include unwanted ambience like airplanes, automobiles, etc.  

Now to get one hour's worth of unadulterated nature sounds it takes nearly 2,000 hours.  Over 183 million people in the world are regularly exposed to noise levels that are medically shown to be deadly.  

Why do we choose this?  What are we trying to avoid?

Could there be something to this notion that what we are trying to avoid, is the very thing that so many of us claim to want----to hear God speak? 

What is keeping you from hearing God?  Is it because you don't want to hear what God has to say?  Have you been taught your whole life that God is angry, full of judgement and can't wait to strike you down because of all of the wrong you have done in your life?  And so you fill your life with noise so you won't have to hear the voice of condemnation... 

Or maybe you wonder secretly if you really stopped to listen for the voice of God that you would never hear it, because He isn't there?  So you surround yourself with a constant hum of noise so you don't have to be disappointed... 

What are some things that you could change right now in your life that would help you begin to hear the ever-speaking, gentle voice of God? 

Is it possible that you have been searching for God in the earthquakes, the winds, the fires of your life---those chaotic moments, the crises, the storms...? and God can't be found in those moments because you are so focused on the storms that you can't hear him telling you...

You are not alone.  I am with you.  I love you.  You are mine.  Rest...  

It's not that God isn't speaking... we're not listening.  

Here's what I want you to do.  Turn off all of the noise around you.

Watch the following video...

Then read the following verses one at a time... slowly.  Just sit with each one in silence... read it over and over again if you need to.  

But be quiet.  

Come to me all you who are weary and over-burdened... 

and I will give you rest. 

- Jesus, Matthew 11:28

quiet...  

Search your hearts... and be silent... 

 - Psalm 4:4

peace... 

Be still and know that I am God... 

 - Psalm 46:10

silence... 

But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places... and prayed. 

 - Luke 5:16

Hallelujah... Amen... 

Related articles

• Elijah Chronicles - Chapter Two: "Fire Fall"
• Elijah Chronicles - Chapter One: "Trust & Obey"