Anyone who has ever played or watched sports knows that there is more to a successful team than talent. Now, obviously talent is important. I mean, no matter how hard they try, a team of high school kids isn’t going to a game against any major league baseball team. Though, with the way my White Sox have played this year, they might not want to risk it. But when you have a number of teams all comprised of people more skilled at what they do than over 99% of the population, the team with the most talent doesn’t always win. This fact is what allows sports movies to keep getting made. From The Longest Yard to Major League to Hoosiers, the halls of sports cinema are full of films about scrappy underdogs defeating bigger, faster, stronger, more talented opponents.
In most of these movies, an initial lack of talent and cohesiveness is overcome through the course of a long season. Usually, some big event serves as the turning point for their season, after which the team gels into a tight-knit, fun-loving group who learn to play together and maximize their respective skills. In the end, it’s the unity and all-for-one and one-for-all mentality that helps them win the day. Rick Vaughan comes out of the bullpen to strike out Clue Haywood. Paul Crewe decides he doesn’t care what the dishonest warden threatens to do to him. Jimmy Chitwood hits the shot that wins the state title for tiny Hickory High.
What rarely gets shown though, is what happens next. Few sports movies get sequels. There’s a reason for that. There’s a saying in sports that winning the first championship is easy; it’s the second one that’s hard. After winning for the first time, many teams experience a “post-championship lull.” What happens is that after winning a title or championship, many players and coaches begin to take their success for granted. They start to buy into their press clippings. They get caught up in the accolades and fame, and focus on themselves rather than the team. The chemistry, the unity that was there the year before disappears. Sometimes it can be recaptured. Often, it can’t.
It seems so obviously self-defeating. From the outside, as a fan, it’s easy to criticize. It’s easy to question how they could forget about what worked the year before so quickly and so easily. It’s so easy to think that you wouldn’t fall into the same trap if you were in their shoes.
Problem is, everyone says that. No politician promises that if you elect him, he’ll go to Washington and be as divisive and partisan as he can possibly be. Nobody tells a new girlfriend or boyfriend that they’re going to put their own wants and desires above the other persons. No one tells the person interviewing them for a new job that they’re going to back-stab and scheme their way to the interviewer’s position.
Everyone says that they want unity. Everyone says they want harmony. Everyone says they want to be a part of the team. And yet the workplace is full of resentment. The republicans and democrats in congress always seem more intent on deriding the other party’s plans than working together to find the best solutions. Families feud and rotate between hurling insults at each other and not speaking at all. Even the church of God is split into numerous denominations, to say nothing of the divisions within individual congregations.
In thermodynamics, scientists study and deal with the concept of entropy. Simplified down to the point that I can understand it, the idea behind entropy is that when left to itself, anything will decay into disorder. To see entropy in action, look at my desk a couple days after I clean it. Or your child’s room a couple hours after their last toy has been put away.
Intellectually, everyone wants unity. In our heads we know it makes sense. We know it makes life easier. We know it makes life happier. And yet we can’t help ourselves. Because of our sinful natures, because we live in a broken and sinful world…discord reigns. As much as we want unity, we can’t help ourselves. We get selfish. We put our own desires first. We put our own careers first. We resent others who are more popular or more successful. We want what they have. While we want unity and team-work, we end up with division and resentment.
All of this makes Jesus’ prayer here at the end of John 17 all the more imposing. In our gospel reading for this morning, we find ourselves again in the upper room on the night of the Last Supper. Chapter 17 of John is commonly known as Jesus’ High Priestly prayer. In the course of it, he prayed for himself, he prayed for the 12, and he prayed for those who would know him through them. That is, he prayed for us. And his prayer for those of us who would call on and believe in his name is that we might be united as he and the Father are united.
Think about that means. Jesus’ prayer is that we, flawed and sinful as we are, might be as united as he and his Father. The Father and the Son have been united since the before the beginning of time. Jesus himself says in verse 24, “You loved me since before the creation of the world.” Not only did the Father and the Son love one another, but as we confess in the Nicene Creed, they were and are of the same substance. Meaning, both are equally true God, the first two persons of the Trinity. Two distinct persons, yet one God. The level to which the Father and the Son are one, are united, goes beyond what our human minds can fully comprehend. And yet it is that level of unity that Jesus prays his followers might have.
It seems impossible. As mentioned, you probably don’t have to look far to find signs of division in your life. Even in happy, loving relationships the level of unity and oneness pales in comparison to that of the Father and the Son. And no constructs we might create, no rules we might put in place are capable of creating that level of unity.
Thankfully, we are not expected to create this unity on our own. Instead, it has already been given to us. Jesus says in verse 22, “the glory that you have given to me I have given to the, that they may be one even as we are one.” The glory that Jesus has given to us was himself. Though it didn’t look like it to the world, Christ’s glory was fulfilled and our glory was won as he hung on the cross and died. And this glory which was won through his death and resurrection has been made sure for us through the waters of Holy Baptism. Paul writes in Romans chapter 6, “Or don't you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection.”
Because the Son is one with the Father, and because the Son has made himself one with us through the shedding of his body and blood, we have been united both to the Father and to one another. By the grace of God the whole church of God is united through Christ and His Word. As Ephesians 4 says, “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” What Christ won through his death and resurrection was won for all believers throughout all ages.
Jesus’ desire and prayer was that his people would be united in all times, and in all places. But because of sin, that unity is not always evident. We have been given the Word of God to be the one truth around our lives and faith our built. It has been given to us to be the one truth by which the church is united and God is glorified, and yet many alter or reject it in order to suit their own desires. Of these people Paul writes in Romans, “"They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator, who is forever praised." And in 2 Timothy he writes that “the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.”
So what are we to do when we see these false teachings make their way into the church? Paul’s instruction to Timothy, to other pastors, and to other believers in the church is “devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you. Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress. Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.”
We in our lives and in our church must seek to not “agree to disagree”, but rather to always speak the truth in love. We must always seek to remain firm and trust in the saving power and grace of God, and pray that His will be done.
When we see division in our lives, when we see division in God’s church, our response should always be to return to God’s Word. To pray to God that he may continue to dwell in us and make his love known to us. To pray that we might have and see the unity that he desires for us. When we fail to live with the unity that Christ desires, we fall at the feet of the one who saves us, thankful that God’s grace and truth are bigger and more powerful than our imperfections. And we look forward to the day that Christ returns, when our unity with one another and with our heavenly Father will be made complete. Amen.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Best is Yet to Come (John 16:23-33)
There’s a story about a young boxer from Oklahoma who moved to Chicago to train. He arrived in the big city with nothing but optimism and a suitcase under each arm. Upon departing the bus, he put down his suitcases, stared up at the Sears Tower and said to himself “I am going to conquer Chicago.” When he looked back down, his suitcases were gone. I imagine we’ve all had days like that. Days or weeks were it felt like nothing goes your way. Feeling like everything was stacked against you. Those times that it feels like no matter what you do, it’s wrong. That whatever you do, you just can’t win.
I imagine that’s how the Cumberland College Bulldogs felt one October day back in 1916. Cumberland was a small Presbyterian college in Tennessee. Though they fielded a strong baseball team, the school had decided to disband the football team prior to the 1916 season. There was one small problem, however. Back when they had a team, a game had been scheduled against Georgia Tech, a team coached by John Heisman.
When Cumberland asked about cancelling the game, it was made clear to them that this was not an option. Perhaps partly as payback for Cumberland having defeated Georgia Tech 22-0 in baseball earlier that year, the Bulldogs were told that cancelling the game would require full payment of the terms agreed to when the game was scheduled. That is, it would cost Cumberland $3,000; about $60,000 in today’s prices.
So, with few options remaining, Cumberland scraped together a 14-man team and headed to Atlanta to take on their powerful foes. Were this a Disney movie, the scrappy underdogs would have fought bravely before ultimately succumbing in the end.
However, this was no Disney movie. Georgia Tech started scoring early, and didn’t stop until the clock struck zero and the scoreboard read 222-0.
Have you ever had a day like that? A day where you try and try, where you push yourself to do the best you can, for no apparent reason? Maybe you’ve had one of those days where days, weeks, or even years of work seemingly disappear in the blink of an eye. Maybe you know what it’s like to suddenly be rendered numb and speechless by a phone call bearing bad news. Perhaps you’ve found yourself weeping over the sudden loss of a loved one.
Horatio Spafford knew all about those days. In 1871 Spafford was a successful lawyer in the city of Chicago. Early that year, his only son died. Later that fall, the Chicago Fire tore through his city, burned its way through his building, and left him near financial ruin. Two years later, he planned to take a holiday with his wife and four daughters to England. When business issues came up that looked to delay their departure, he sent his family ahead of him, planning to meet up with them a couple weeks later. However, while crossing the Atlantic, the boat they were on was struck by another vessel and sank. His wife survived, but all four of his daughters were lost to the sea.
When Spafford was able to set out and join his wife in England, his ship passed over the place his children had lost their lives. In the midst of his heartbreak, he went to his cabin, and wrote these words… “When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.” The words that Horatio Spafford wrote in the midst of profound heartache has since gone on to become a dearly beloved hymn sung by others during their own times of grief and mourning.
There are some churches, some pastors out there who will tell you that God wants you to have your best life now. That if you believe in God, good things are going to happen in your life. That being a Christian, that being a child of the heavenly Father means you are going to be blessed with a better job, better behaved kids, a bigger house, and a newer truck. The bad times, it is implied, are the result of a not fully realized trust or faith.
If that’s true, what then do we make of the apostle Paul? In 2nd Corinthians, Paul runs through the list of the trials and hardships he had faced up that point. Just a sampling of his list says, “Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move.” Paul knew trial and hardship. Was it because his faith wasn’t strong enough?
What about Jesus himself? Who was ever more faithful than Jesus? Who deserved a life of comfort and peace more than him? And yet look what he endured. Three years of religious leaders trying to trap him in his words. No bed to call his own. Disciples who would deny even knowing him. Being beaten and mocked. Having nails hammered through his hands and feet, killed for sins he never committed.
Our Savior was intimately familiar with the truth that life is hard. That things aren’t always fair. And it’s going to continue to be that way. At least for a while. Jesus knew this, and told his followers to be prepared to face pressure and persecution. Sin prevails upon us every day, and in every way.
St. Peter writes, “Satan prowls like a roaring lion, seeking whom he will devour.” The evil one comes at us however he can. He wants us to be completely overwhelmed by our times of struggle. He wants us to feel overburdened. He wants us to wallow in the darkness of despair. He wants us to lose hope. He wants us to feel abandoned and alone. He operated this way in Jesus’ time, and he works that way today. And left on our own in a sinful world, he would break us. We would have no hope.
But the good news we have been given is that we aren’t alone, and we aren’t without a sure hope. The last verse of our reading for today quotes Jesus as saying “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Christ spoke these words to his disciples in the upper room a few short hours before he was betrayed by Judas into the hands of the Pharisees.
He knew what was coming, both for him and for his disciples. He knew they were going to be tested in the coming hours and days, and he knew they were going to fail. But his message to them was to take heart. That he was bigger than their trials. That he was bigger than the forces that sought to kill him. That he was bigger than death, bigger than the world. He was in control.
The reason that Horatio Spafford was able to write those words, the reason that we can hope to find peace in the midst of the chaos and tribulations of our own is because of the one to whom we look for comfort. We find peace not in the things of the world, but in Christ. Christ, who took the sins of the world upon himself. Even more, who took the punishment for those sins upon himself. So that we might have peace, he faced the full wrath of God. So that we might live with the hope of life in God’s eternal kingdom, the Son was abandoned and forsaken by the Father. By his wounds, you have been healed.
In our lives, we will face hardship. But in our trials, we are not facing the punishment of God. Jesus has forever removed from us the divine wrath. Instead, we are simply experiencing the effects of living in a sinful, imperfect world. A world in which pain , death, and struggle still exist as it waits for Christ to return again. But all things, we are assured, work out for our good. Every sorrow is used by God to benefit us. These sorrows though cannot compare to the glory that is to be revealed in Christ.
When we feel do feel beaten down by the world, Christ promises to carry us through. He tells us to remember and rejoice in knowing that he has already overcome the world. In our day to day dealings in the world, we might not always feel his presence. We might not immediately feel any less tired or beaten down. So you might wonder what that leaves us with. What we are left with is hope. We are given hope in the knowledge of Christ’s ultimate victory over death and the devil. We are given the hope that comes from knowing that even the good times in this life don’t hold a candle to what is to come.
This isn’t the hope that your request for vacation time gets accepted. This isn’t the hope that your husband remembered to stop at the store and get milk, or to put gas in the car before the price went up again. This isn’t even a hope that we do. It’s a hope that we have been given. It’s an object we can hold on to, not a feeling that may fade away. This is a hope that can only be given to us by the one who makes us and calls us his own. It’s a hope that comes from the one person who has never failed to deliver on a promise. A hope in the promise that when we feel weary, he takes our burdens off of our shoulders and takes them upon his own. A hope in the promise of eternal salvation, and in the promise of eternal peace before the throne of our Lord Jesus. Amen.
I imagine that’s how the Cumberland College Bulldogs felt one October day back in 1916. Cumberland was a small Presbyterian college in Tennessee. Though they fielded a strong baseball team, the school had decided to disband the football team prior to the 1916 season. There was one small problem, however. Back when they had a team, a game had been scheduled against Georgia Tech, a team coached by John Heisman.
When Cumberland asked about cancelling the game, it was made clear to them that this was not an option. Perhaps partly as payback for Cumberland having defeated Georgia Tech 22-0 in baseball earlier that year, the Bulldogs were told that cancelling the game would require full payment of the terms agreed to when the game was scheduled. That is, it would cost Cumberland $3,000; about $60,000 in today’s prices.
So, with few options remaining, Cumberland scraped together a 14-man team and headed to Atlanta to take on their powerful foes. Were this a Disney movie, the scrappy underdogs would have fought bravely before ultimately succumbing in the end.
However, this was no Disney movie. Georgia Tech started scoring early, and didn’t stop until the clock struck zero and the scoreboard read 222-0.
Have you ever had a day like that? A day where you try and try, where you push yourself to do the best you can, for no apparent reason? Maybe you’ve had one of those days where days, weeks, or even years of work seemingly disappear in the blink of an eye. Maybe you know what it’s like to suddenly be rendered numb and speechless by a phone call bearing bad news. Perhaps you’ve found yourself weeping over the sudden loss of a loved one.
Horatio Spafford knew all about those days. In 1871 Spafford was a successful lawyer in the city of Chicago. Early that year, his only son died. Later that fall, the Chicago Fire tore through his city, burned its way through his building, and left him near financial ruin. Two years later, he planned to take a holiday with his wife and four daughters to England. When business issues came up that looked to delay their departure, he sent his family ahead of him, planning to meet up with them a couple weeks later. However, while crossing the Atlantic, the boat they were on was struck by another vessel and sank. His wife survived, but all four of his daughters were lost to the sea.
When Spafford was able to set out and join his wife in England, his ship passed over the place his children had lost their lives. In the midst of his heartbreak, he went to his cabin, and wrote these words… “When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.” The words that Horatio Spafford wrote in the midst of profound heartache has since gone on to become a dearly beloved hymn sung by others during their own times of grief and mourning.
There are some churches, some pastors out there who will tell you that God wants you to have your best life now. That if you believe in God, good things are going to happen in your life. That being a Christian, that being a child of the heavenly Father means you are going to be blessed with a better job, better behaved kids, a bigger house, and a newer truck. The bad times, it is implied, are the result of a not fully realized trust or faith.
If that’s true, what then do we make of the apostle Paul? In 2nd Corinthians, Paul runs through the list of the trials and hardships he had faced up that point. Just a sampling of his list says, “Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move.” Paul knew trial and hardship. Was it because his faith wasn’t strong enough?
What about Jesus himself? Who was ever more faithful than Jesus? Who deserved a life of comfort and peace more than him? And yet look what he endured. Three years of religious leaders trying to trap him in his words. No bed to call his own. Disciples who would deny even knowing him. Being beaten and mocked. Having nails hammered through his hands and feet, killed for sins he never committed.
Our Savior was intimately familiar with the truth that life is hard. That things aren’t always fair. And it’s going to continue to be that way. At least for a while. Jesus knew this, and told his followers to be prepared to face pressure and persecution. Sin prevails upon us every day, and in every way.
St. Peter writes, “Satan prowls like a roaring lion, seeking whom he will devour.” The evil one comes at us however he can. He wants us to be completely overwhelmed by our times of struggle. He wants us to feel overburdened. He wants us to wallow in the darkness of despair. He wants us to lose hope. He wants us to feel abandoned and alone. He operated this way in Jesus’ time, and he works that way today. And left on our own in a sinful world, he would break us. We would have no hope.
But the good news we have been given is that we aren’t alone, and we aren’t without a sure hope. The last verse of our reading for today quotes Jesus as saying “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Christ spoke these words to his disciples in the upper room a few short hours before he was betrayed by Judas into the hands of the Pharisees.
He knew what was coming, both for him and for his disciples. He knew they were going to be tested in the coming hours and days, and he knew they were going to fail. But his message to them was to take heart. That he was bigger than their trials. That he was bigger than the forces that sought to kill him. That he was bigger than death, bigger than the world. He was in control.
The reason that Horatio Spafford was able to write those words, the reason that we can hope to find peace in the midst of the chaos and tribulations of our own is because of the one to whom we look for comfort. We find peace not in the things of the world, but in Christ. Christ, who took the sins of the world upon himself. Even more, who took the punishment for those sins upon himself. So that we might have peace, he faced the full wrath of God. So that we might live with the hope of life in God’s eternal kingdom, the Son was abandoned and forsaken by the Father. By his wounds, you have been healed.
In our lives, we will face hardship. But in our trials, we are not facing the punishment of God. Jesus has forever removed from us the divine wrath. Instead, we are simply experiencing the effects of living in a sinful, imperfect world. A world in which pain , death, and struggle still exist as it waits for Christ to return again. But all things, we are assured, work out for our good. Every sorrow is used by God to benefit us. These sorrows though cannot compare to the glory that is to be revealed in Christ.
When we feel do feel beaten down by the world, Christ promises to carry us through. He tells us to remember and rejoice in knowing that he has already overcome the world. In our day to day dealings in the world, we might not always feel his presence. We might not immediately feel any less tired or beaten down. So you might wonder what that leaves us with. What we are left with is hope. We are given hope in the knowledge of Christ’s ultimate victory over death and the devil. We are given the hope that comes from knowing that even the good times in this life don’t hold a candle to what is to come.
This isn’t the hope that your request for vacation time gets accepted. This isn’t the hope that your husband remembered to stop at the store and get milk, or to put gas in the car before the price went up again. This isn’t even a hope that we do. It’s a hope that we have been given. It’s an object we can hold on to, not a feeling that may fade away. This is a hope that can only be given to us by the one who makes us and calls us his own. It’s a hope that comes from the one person who has never failed to deliver on a promise. A hope in the promise that when we feel weary, he takes our burdens off of our shoulders and takes them upon his own. A hope in the promise of eternal salvation, and in the promise of eternal peace before the throne of our Lord Jesus. Amen.
Instruments of God (Acts 9:1-22)
One thing you quickly learn when you get to the seminary is that would-be pastors come in all shapes and sizes. A lot of guys are in their early 20’s, straight out of college, with degrees that run the liberal and fine arts gamut. And then you have the 2nd career guys. Guys who have spent years, sometimes even decades in the workforce who have now decided to once again become full-time students. Teachers, mechanics, army captains, policemen, undertakers, college administrators. All successful in their previous fields, many with wives and children, all now sitting next to you in class, taking notes and writing papers.
As varied as the background of pastors and future pastors might be, as unexpected as some of their entries into the ministry might be, I doubt that any of them can hold a candle to Saul of Tarsus. We’re first introduced to Saul during the martyrdom of Stephen, guarding the clothes of those hurling the stones, approving of their actions. We know that Paul was a Pharisee. By his own definition “Pharisee of the Pharisees.” His zeal and adherence to the Law were without question. Though a Jew, he was also a citizen of Rome. He was well educated. And above all, he sought to destroy the growing group of people who followed and believed in the man known as Jesus of Nazareth.
Saul was in the Christian-hunting business, and business was good. In Acts 8:3 we read these words, “But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off men and women and put them in prison.” And then, at the beginning of our reading for today we’re told, “Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.”
Saul was not someone you would ever expect to meet on a seminary campus. Not as a student, anyway. And yet, God chose this man to be His chosen instrument. To be the evangelist to the Gentiles. To be the author of 13 books of the New Testament. To arguably be the most prolific and important witness to Jesus Christ that the world has ever known.
But why? Of all people, why Saul? Why would God even let this man continue to live, never mind be His servant? Certainly from a human perspective it was a choice that makes less than zero sense. If faced with making the decision to choose someone to be a missionary to the nations, most people would go with the well-trained, passionate Christian. At the very least they’d choose someone who wasn’t actively seeking to kill those who believed in the very message the person was going to be sent to proclaim. And if Saul had been required to apply to the seminary before being sent out, he never would have made it. Putting “Christian-hunter” as his previous occupation would have had his application tossed in the trash in no-time flat. Why would God choose him?
Of course, before we can answer that question, there’s another question that needs to be asked. Why would God choose us? After all, each of was born sinful. Each of us was born an enemy of God. This truth is highlighted for us in Romans 5. I’m going to highlight a few relevant snippets, “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned--...For if the many died by the trespass of the one man,...The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation,....For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man,...Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men.”
All of us were sinful. All of us are guilty of sinning each and every day. Perhaps we aren’t guilty of the same sins as Saul, but we are equally as guilty. James 2:10 says, “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.” And of course the punishment for breaking God’s Law is death. So whether we want to admit it or not, we’re really no better, no more deserving of being chosen and used by God than Saul.
So as Paul traveled along the road on his way to Damascus, he did so blind to the truth of Jesus Christ. But as he traveled he was brought to his knees as he was surrounded by light and heard a voice say, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul had a very natural response. “But Lord, who are you?” Imagine the shock, the dread that must have seized him when he heard the response. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” When he got up he discovered he was blind, this time literally. And for three days he was alone with his thoughts, not even eating as he considered what had happened to him, and what he had been told.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had an experience anything close to what Saul had on the Damascus road. Rather, I should say that I’ve never had an experience as dramatic as what Paul had, because at its root level, I have had a similar experience. And so have you. As many of you likely were, I didn’t have much say in the matter as I was brought to the baptismal fount. In fact, some of us might have been quite vocally against it, crying and screaming over the pastor’s words, wailing as cold water was suddenly poured over our heads. When you get right down to it, this is essentially the same thing that happened to Saul.
Saul wasn’t ready for the role God in mind for him. He was quite content doing what he was doing. He was happy going along, blind to his sin and need for forgiveness. When Jesus spoke, he didn’t give Saul any say in the matter. He didn’t make any arguments for why Saul should listen to him. He didn’t provide evidence for why Saul should believe in him. He didn’t dialog with Saul about whether he was the Christ. He simply appeared to him, made himself known, and sets him on a whole new path.
Indeed, God did essentially to us the very same thing that He did to Paul. He simply called us His own by His own very clear and straight-forward declaration. "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” It was by His work, by His grace that we have been lifted up out of the curse of sin and made his children. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that we are brought out of our own spiritual blindness and into faith in Jesus Christ.
In Saul’s moment of conversion and in our own, we see that there is no human action involved in coming to Christ. There is no decision of faith to be made. After all, our Lord himself says rather clearly in John 15:16, " You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit." There was no decision of faith on the part of Saul. God just simply informed him that he was His child, and that from now on, he had a new job, and a new boss.
Why did God choose a man like Saul? For the very same reason He chose us. Because He loved Saul. And he loves us. And because of that, he has called each of us not just by our own name, but by His.
The great heroes of scriptures weren’t great because they were great men and women. They were ordinary, sinful people through whom God did things. If God can take a mortal enemy like Saul and turn him into the greatest Christian evangelist in history, then there is no limit to what God can do with the likes of those who occupy these pews or this pulpit this Sunday. God can and does do amazing things!
Always and only, Saul would grow to point to the grace of God which was his in Christ Jesus. Saul of course would change his name to Paul, and he would eventually write in his letter to the Galatians, “But when God, who set me apart from birth and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not consult any man.” It was not men who empowered him, but God! And that is precisely the way it works with us. We would have no light shine on us as personal individuals as we are about the work of the kingdom of God. But always, and only like Saul, we must point to Christ. Christ who is all and who does all through the power of his grace.
Everything is done by the impetus of God. Not by decisions of human will. Just like Paul, we are the product of grace alone. Like Paul we are former enemies of God who have been washed clean in the blood of the lamb of God. Solely by his grace our sins are no longer an outstanding debt which we cannot possibly replay. Instead, the repayment has been done by the one who offered His life, and sacrifice, for our sin. And there is no sin that you have that is strong enough to overcome the power of his grace and love.
We have done nothing. Christ has done everything. It is His full payment for sin, not anything we offer, that brings us the salvation that is ours. And once more, like Paul, we shouldn’t stop talking about it. We can’t stop talking about it! Like Paul, our very lives can be nothing but instruments of God for the building up of His kingdom.
It doesn’t matter what you do for a living. I don’t care if you’re a contractor, a banker, a counselor, a homemaker, or a retiree. It makes no difference. Anything that accomplishes God’s purposes in any of those roles are things which God is working in your life in order to expand His kingdom. Because of that, everything that we do in life is sacred. Because God is at work, and he has chosen us to be instruments of making His love known.
In Paul we see how a former enemy of God was obedient. How he was a servant of Christ. An instrument at the disposal of the Almighty one through His good works and to bring about His will. Not because he was great, but because God is great.
You and I are not great, but God is great in us. And I pray that we too may be willing servants like our brother Paul. That we too may be instruments of sharing the grace and mercy we have been called to know with others, so that they too may hear and believe. Amen.
As varied as the background of pastors and future pastors might be, as unexpected as some of their entries into the ministry might be, I doubt that any of them can hold a candle to Saul of Tarsus. We’re first introduced to Saul during the martyrdom of Stephen, guarding the clothes of those hurling the stones, approving of their actions. We know that Paul was a Pharisee. By his own definition “Pharisee of the Pharisees.” His zeal and adherence to the Law were without question. Though a Jew, he was also a citizen of Rome. He was well educated. And above all, he sought to destroy the growing group of people who followed and believed in the man known as Jesus of Nazareth.
Saul was in the Christian-hunting business, and business was good. In Acts 8:3 we read these words, “But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off men and women and put them in prison.” And then, at the beginning of our reading for today we’re told, “Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.”
Saul was not someone you would ever expect to meet on a seminary campus. Not as a student, anyway. And yet, God chose this man to be His chosen instrument. To be the evangelist to the Gentiles. To be the author of 13 books of the New Testament. To arguably be the most prolific and important witness to Jesus Christ that the world has ever known.
But why? Of all people, why Saul? Why would God even let this man continue to live, never mind be His servant? Certainly from a human perspective it was a choice that makes less than zero sense. If faced with making the decision to choose someone to be a missionary to the nations, most people would go with the well-trained, passionate Christian. At the very least they’d choose someone who wasn’t actively seeking to kill those who believed in the very message the person was going to be sent to proclaim. And if Saul had been required to apply to the seminary before being sent out, he never would have made it. Putting “Christian-hunter” as his previous occupation would have had his application tossed in the trash in no-time flat. Why would God choose him?
Of course, before we can answer that question, there’s another question that needs to be asked. Why would God choose us? After all, each of was born sinful. Each of us was born an enemy of God. This truth is highlighted for us in Romans 5. I’m going to highlight a few relevant snippets, “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned--...For if the many died by the trespass of the one man,...The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation,....For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man,...Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men.”
All of us were sinful. All of us are guilty of sinning each and every day. Perhaps we aren’t guilty of the same sins as Saul, but we are equally as guilty. James 2:10 says, “For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.” And of course the punishment for breaking God’s Law is death. So whether we want to admit it or not, we’re really no better, no more deserving of being chosen and used by God than Saul.
So as Paul traveled along the road on his way to Damascus, he did so blind to the truth of Jesus Christ. But as he traveled he was brought to his knees as he was surrounded by light and heard a voice say, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul had a very natural response. “But Lord, who are you?” Imagine the shock, the dread that must have seized him when he heard the response. “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” When he got up he discovered he was blind, this time literally. And for three days he was alone with his thoughts, not even eating as he considered what had happened to him, and what he had been told.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had an experience anything close to what Saul had on the Damascus road. Rather, I should say that I’ve never had an experience as dramatic as what Paul had, because at its root level, I have had a similar experience. And so have you. As many of you likely were, I didn’t have much say in the matter as I was brought to the baptismal fount. In fact, some of us might have been quite vocally against it, crying and screaming over the pastor’s words, wailing as cold water was suddenly poured over our heads. When you get right down to it, this is essentially the same thing that happened to Saul.
Saul wasn’t ready for the role God in mind for him. He was quite content doing what he was doing. He was happy going along, blind to his sin and need for forgiveness. When Jesus spoke, he didn’t give Saul any say in the matter. He didn’t make any arguments for why Saul should listen to him. He didn’t provide evidence for why Saul should believe in him. He didn’t dialog with Saul about whether he was the Christ. He simply appeared to him, made himself known, and sets him on a whole new path.
Indeed, God did essentially to us the very same thing that He did to Paul. He simply called us His own by His own very clear and straight-forward declaration. "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” It was by His work, by His grace that we have been lifted up out of the curse of sin and made his children. It is by the power of the Holy Spirit that we are brought out of our own spiritual blindness and into faith in Jesus Christ.
In Saul’s moment of conversion and in our own, we see that there is no human action involved in coming to Christ. There is no decision of faith to be made. After all, our Lord himself says rather clearly in John 15:16, " You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit." There was no decision of faith on the part of Saul. God just simply informed him that he was His child, and that from now on, he had a new job, and a new boss.
Why did God choose a man like Saul? For the very same reason He chose us. Because He loved Saul. And he loves us. And because of that, he has called each of us not just by our own name, but by His.
The great heroes of scriptures weren’t great because they were great men and women. They were ordinary, sinful people through whom God did things. If God can take a mortal enemy like Saul and turn him into the greatest Christian evangelist in history, then there is no limit to what God can do with the likes of those who occupy these pews or this pulpit this Sunday. God can and does do amazing things!
Always and only, Saul would grow to point to the grace of God which was his in Christ Jesus. Saul of course would change his name to Paul, and he would eventually write in his letter to the Galatians, “But when God, who set me apart from birth and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not consult any man.” It was not men who empowered him, but God! And that is precisely the way it works with us. We would have no light shine on us as personal individuals as we are about the work of the kingdom of God. But always, and only like Saul, we must point to Christ. Christ who is all and who does all through the power of his grace.
Everything is done by the impetus of God. Not by decisions of human will. Just like Paul, we are the product of grace alone. Like Paul we are former enemies of God who have been washed clean in the blood of the lamb of God. Solely by his grace our sins are no longer an outstanding debt which we cannot possibly replay. Instead, the repayment has been done by the one who offered His life, and sacrifice, for our sin. And there is no sin that you have that is strong enough to overcome the power of his grace and love.
We have done nothing. Christ has done everything. It is His full payment for sin, not anything we offer, that brings us the salvation that is ours. And once more, like Paul, we shouldn’t stop talking about it. We can’t stop talking about it! Like Paul, our very lives can be nothing but instruments of God for the building up of His kingdom.
It doesn’t matter what you do for a living. I don’t care if you’re a contractor, a banker, a counselor, a homemaker, or a retiree. It makes no difference. Anything that accomplishes God’s purposes in any of those roles are things which God is working in your life in order to expand His kingdom. Because of that, everything that we do in life is sacred. Because God is at work, and he has chosen us to be instruments of making His love known.
In Paul we see how a former enemy of God was obedient. How he was a servant of Christ. An instrument at the disposal of the Almighty one through His good works and to bring about His will. Not because he was great, but because God is great.
You and I are not great, but God is great in us. And I pray that we too may be willing servants like our brother Paul. That we too may be instruments of sharing the grace and mercy we have been called to know with others, so that they too may hear and believe. Amen.
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