Lessons from the Beginning

Lessons from the Beginning

Genesis 1:1-2:4

            Recently I had occasion to preach on Chapter 1 of Genesis, a word that means beginning—so I was preaching on the beginning of the beginning.  I think it’s a good idea to occasionally return to the beginning to make sure we haven’t missed something, some clue as to where we should be and where we should be going.  In the song, “Do Re Mi” from The Sound of Music Julie Andrews (Maria Von Trapp) sings, “Let’s start at the very beginning; a very good place to start.”  Let’s do it! 

            Every time I return to Genesis 1, I find something I missed before.  My good friend Mike Brower says the same thing.  He presented our Scripture lesson that Sunday, and he found things he hadn’t noticed before.  Let’s examine some of my discoveries.

            Genesis 1:3—“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”  What was that light?  It separated day from night—but God doesn’t create the sun, moon and stars for another eleven verses, so it couldn’t be their light that appeared on the first day.  Mike Brower suggested it could have been the Light of the World—and that’s a tempting thought.  But classic Christian doctrine says that Jesus Christ is uncreated.  Like God the Father, he has existed from the beginning—in fact, from before the beginning. 

            Perhaps that light was what scientists refer to as the Big Bang.  It certainly fits the description, since that explosion released so much energy that the universe is still expanding.  It’s a tempting thought, one that both conservative Christians and liberal scientists will have trouble with.  Perhaps that’s why I find it so tempting.

            Genesis 1:29-30—God has already created the animals (v.24) and humankind (v. 26-28), and now God tells them what they are to eat.  All animals and all people are to be vegetarians.  No killing of animals, even by other animals, and certainly not by humans.  We are to eat “every plant yielding seed…and every tree with seed in it.”  The animals have been given “every green plant for food.”  If this sounds strange (and it certainly does to me!), remember God’s promise in Isaiah 65:25, the prophecy regarding the new earth that God will create in the age to come:  “The wolf and the lamb will graze together [my emphasis]; the lion shall eat straw like the ox.”  Apparently, this is how God intended things to be.  It’s an interesting thought.

            Genesis 2:2-3—“And on the seventh day God finished his work…and he rested on the seventh day…So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy…”  The seventh day wasn’t something added on, separate from creation, it was the culmination of creation, it’s crowning touch.  It was the day God sat back and examine all that had been created, all that God had made and blessed with the words, “And God saw that it was good.”

            And so we are to finish our work week with a Sabbath—a day of rest, so we can enjoy and appreciate God’s good works.  “It is finished,” God said.  “Let us enjoy the fruits of our labor.”  We are to keep the Sabbath Day holy because God sanctified it.  Unfortunately, most of us fail miserably at this.

            Genesis 1:1-2—Perhaps what intrigued me the most was that God began before the beginning.  The Jewish Study Bible translates the passage this way:  “In the beginning, when God began to create the heavens and the earth—the earth being unformed and void…”  Before the beginning, the earth was here, but it was wasteland, and whatever existed was chaos.  

God’s singular accomplishment over the period of creation, however long it lasted, was to bring order out of chaos—for which God deserves the highest praise.  We can be grateful for this, and for God continuing to bring order to order the chaos of our world—and of our lives.

Moving in the Correct Direction

Moving in the Correct Direction

Isaiah 30:19-21

                When it comes to retracing a new route, some of us are directionally challenged.  In the days before MapQuest and GPS, many drivers (notoriously male), would doggedly insist they knew the way, only to end up three expressways and umpteen miles past the right exit.  Today, equipped with a GPS system, travelers can hit the road with expert guidance and instant navigational advice.  Those who have traveled spiritual routes before us have also left behind key navigational points to follow on the journey to righteous living.

            I read this recently.  I have no idea who wrote it, but I can attest to the truth of much of it.  Let me explain.

            It didn’t take me long to learn that my wife has a much better sense of direction than I do.  I think I must daydream or something when I’m driving.  I sometimes find myself going in the wrong direction, or I forget how to get somewhere I’ve either driven to a couple of times or only been to as a passenger.  Once, in New Jersey, I had to call my wife in Mississippi to ask her how to get to my parents’ home.  Thank heavens for cell phones!

            I will not admit to driving out of my way because I didn’t ask directions.  My ego doesn’t work that way.  I will admit to going into a gas station or convenience store, asking directions, then having difficulty remembering them when I get back to my vehicle.  GPS has indeed been a blessing.

            So I’ve learned to trust my wife’s judgment when it comes to getting somewhere.  She’s not infallible, but she’s far better than I am.

            “Those who have traveled spiritual routes before us have also left behind key navigational points to follow…”  We don’t have to travel an unmarked road in our spiritual lives.  The signposts are there.  We just have to observe them. 

            Isaiah was writing to a stubborn and rebellious people.  That’s what had gotten them into trouble in the first place.  They thought they knew the correct way.  They had everything figured out.  Don’t tell them to look for exit signs or mile markers.  They knew where they were going.  Stop to ask for directions?  Not them!  Waste of time.

            And now they were hopelessly lost, seemingly abandoned by God, not knowing which way to turn.  Where were the signposts?  Which was the correct road?

            Isaiah knew God had not completely abandoned them.  God had let them get lost since they were so bent on doing just that.  But like a good driving instructor, God was waiting for them to realize they had made a mistake and ask for help getting back on the right road.  God was willing to be their GPS.  Instead of taking the wheel, God would sit in the seat behind them, saying, “This is the way, walk in it” if they started to make a wrong turn.

            One of the major signposts for our correction is the Bible.  We make a serious mistake when we pick sound byte portions of Scripture and tie our spiritual life to them.  We are almost sure to go astray, substituting our wisdom for God’s—and that will get us lost.  Instead, we need to read Scripture in large portions—and to read all of Scripture.  The Bible is the record of God’s interaction with humanity.  Like any good road map it will give us an overall picture of where we’re going in addition to knowing which road we are on. 

            As I’ve learned to trust my wife’s sense of direction so I need to trust the directions of those who have gone before me spiritually.  They know the way.  They’ve been through the rough spots.  They’ve climbed the hills.  They’ve found the path through the dark valleys.  The best part is that they want to help us, to guide us.  All we have to do is listen to them and follow their directions.  It may not make the road easy, but they will guide us home safely.  

Ribbons of Grace

Ribbons of Grace

1 Corinthians 1:4-9

I’m comin’ home, I’ve done my time

Now I’ve got to know what is and isn’t mine

If you received my letter telling you I’d soon be free

Then you’ll know just what to do

If you still want me.

Tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree

It’s been three long years, do you still want me?

If I don’t see a ribbon round the ole oak tree

I’ll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me

If I don’t see a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree.

            Tony Orlando told this story in a 1973 song written by Irwin Levine and L. Russell Brown.  The singer has been in prison.  He’s paid his debt and now it’s time to rejoin society.  There’s only one problem—does society want him back?  There’s one person who means more to him than anyone else.  Specifically, does this person want him back?

            It’s a woman—a woman with whom he had a relationship before he got in trouble with the law.  A sweetheart?  A wife?  We don’t know.  We only know he still cares—cares very much.  He says, I’m really still in prison, and my love she holds the key.  But how does she feel about him?  Does she want to see him?  After three long years is there still a spark?    He has no way of knowing short of showing up and seeing what happens.

            But he has a plan—an idea that will save her confronting him if she’s no longer interested, and save him at least a little agony.  He writes and asks for a sign.

“If you still love me, tie a yellow ribbon around the oak tree.  If I don’t see the ribbon I’ll know it’s over between us.  It will still hurt, but at least we won’t have to see each other.  We can let the relationship fade away.  You can go on with your life, and I’ll try to build a new one.”

What will she do?

Now the moment of truth is approaching.  The bus is nearing his stop.  He wants to look but is afraid of what he’ll see—or won’t see.  He asks the bus driver to look for him, to tell him if his love wants him back.  Here’s her answer.

Now the whole [darned] bus is cheerin’

And I can’t believe I see

A hundred yellow ribbons round the ole oak tree.

That’s grace.  There’s nothing obligating her to welcome him back except her love for him.  Nothing else that says she has to tie that ribbon around the tree.  His question: “Do you love me enough to take me back even though I’m damaged goods?”  Her answer: “I have not one ribbon worth, but a hundred ribbons worth of love.  Is that enough?”

Paul understood grace.  He’d received it from God on the Damascus road.  He had persecuted the followers of Jesus.  Could Jesus forgive him for that?  Jesus’ answer: “I have more love for you than you can possibly imagine, and I have grace to cover whatever you’ve done—and more!”

As a result, Paul’s letters are full of grace.  He begins many of them with the words, “Grace and peace to you.”  It’s not enough for him to have received grace.  He wants to pass it along to others.  He tells the Corinthians how grateful he is to God for the grace they have received through Jesus Christ.  Later Paul will chastise them for the un-Christian things they are doing, things that upset Paul and harm the fellowship of the church.  But before he does, he assures them of many, many ribbons of God’s grace. 

This is going to be a tough letter.  Paul knows it when he begins, but he first reassures them that God is faithful, and God’s grace will keep them in fellowship. 

That’s grace.

Ordinary Time/Extraordinary Events

Ordinary Time/Extraordinary Events

John 21:20-25

            Many Christian churches (including mine) follow the Liturgical Year.  It begins four Sundays before Christmas with the Season of Advent.  This is followed by the Season of Christmas (Christmas Eve through January 5), then Epiphany (January 6).  The time from January 7 to Ash Wednesday (the beginning of the Season of Lent) is called Ordinary Time.  We joke about it being “just old ordinary time,” but that’s not what it means.  Instead of “just the same old same old,” this ordinary derives from the word ordered.  (For those of you who like completeness, Lent lasts until Easter, which lasts 50 days until Pentecost, then Ordinary Time again until the next Advent.)

            These two seasons of Ordinary Time are not just long periods of waiting with nothing to do.  Instead they are times when we consider all the events of Jesus’ life between his birth (and the preparation for it) and death (the preparation for it and the events after).  And there is much to focus on.  The gospels are full of the things Jesus said, the things Jesus did, and the reactions of many people to him.  We read of healings—physical, emotional and spiritual.  We hear him as he calls people back to the spirit of Torah Law, instead of just the letter.  In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus repeats several times the words “You have heard it said…, but I say…,” each time completing the first half of the statement with an old interpretation of the Torah followed by his interpretation in the second half.

            Repeatedly we see Jesus favoring the poor, the dispossessed, the disenfranchised, and the oppressed.  He doesn’t have much good to say about the rich unless they are willing to give their surplus wealth (which is greater in Jesus’ eyes than in their own) to help those in need.  God’s kingdom, the coming of which is a focus of his teaching and his mission, is reserved for those who love God with everything they have, and demonstrate their love for God by the depth of their love for their neighbors.  Jesus defines neighbors as anyone who has a need we can meet.

            There is enough of this material to fill Ordinary Time three times over and then some.  John says it best in the final verse of his gospel: “Now there are also many other things that Jesus did.  Were every one of them to be written, I suppose the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

            Hyperbole?  Probably—and yet there is truth in the statement.  John’s conception of the world was much smaller than ours.  For him the world consisted of the Middle East—and only part of that.  We who have seen the earth from outer space (albeit only in pictures) know just how large our planet is.  Surely it is large enough to contain all the books written about the life of Jesus, even if every single event were recorded.

            But what about since then?  We know that Jesus has never stopped being active in this world.  Yes, there are many times when it seems Jesus is far removed from the world, but in our hearts we know that’s not true.  Many of us have experienced his presence in our own lives, and we can testify to God’s work in us and in those around us.  Sometimes Jesus works in us directly, and we can feel the power of his love and grace filling us, changing us, and calling us to deeper love and higher service. Often Jesus works through others to bring about changes in us.  We experience him through those who serve us, through those who encourage us, through those who show us where we need to grow.

            If we were to write down every thing that Jesus has done to affect so many people since his resurrection, John’s statement might well be true.  There would not be enough bookshelves on this planet to hold all those writings—and isn’t that amazing!

The Quest

The Quest

Matthew 2:1-12

            “Wise men still seek Him.”

            You may have seen this on a Christmas card, or on the cover of a church Christmas program, or some other place.  What lies behind the line is the concept that we should seek Jesus until we encounter him and develop a personal relationship with him.

            Quest stories are common in literature, both fiction and nonfiction.   Mitzi Minor describes the gospel of Mark as a “journey story.”  In these tales, someone sets out on a journey—a quest.  She may know what she is looking for, or just have a general idea of where she’s going without a specific end in mind.  Along the way she goes through a series of trials until she reaches her goal.  Eventually she returns home, successful in her quest, and somehow changed, becoming a new person through the journey.  We see this pattern in C.S. Lewis’ Narnia Tales, J.R.R. Tolkien’s stories from Middle Earth, and, in a slightly different form, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series.  In each case the hero successfully completes his quest, experiencing something along the way that changes him and affects the rest of his life.

            Such is the story of the wise men in Matthew’s gospel. By some means, in their home country far to the east of Judea, they become aware of a birth that will have a cataclysmic effect on the world.  Their scientific texts and holy books, combined with some disturbance in the normal celestial patterns lead them to believe something is happening they shouldn’t miss.  And so they set out on their quest. 

How many there were, where they came from, the route they took are a mystery to us.  We can speculate using what we learn from Matthew’s account and what we know about the times, but we cannot know for sure the answers to our questions.  All Matthew tells us is they showed up in Jerusalem asking for directions.  We know what happened next.  Herod knew so little Scripture that he had to call in the experts.  They provided some information, but could only point the Magi in the general direction. 

The Magi arrived at their destination, fulfilled their quest, and returned home by another way.  But it wasn’t only their travel route that was different.  They were changed—new people because of their journey.  We do not know what trials they went through on their quest.  We only know they completed it and found themselves back at the place where they started—but not the same as when they started.

We can be very suspicious of people on quests.  We’re much more comfortable with people who know who they are and what they know—people like the biblical experts in Jerusalem.  They had no need to go on a journey to find the new king.  They knew who their king was, where their loyalty lay, and what their role was.  No need to go anywhere.  No need to upset their lives.  Stay home and be content with who we are and what we know.

We have to admit, it’s an easier life.  Why go searching for something else?  Why not be content with what we have here?  Who knows what could happen to you out there, on the road?  Who knows what trials await, what dangers lurk, what disappointments we might find?

Ah!  But what they missed!  Their quest wouldn’t have been as long and arduous as that of the Magi, but they would have returned home changed people—new creations, with new knowledge and new understanding.

Wise men still seek Him, and in seeking find not only the completion of their quest, but a new life. 

Will we be wise?

God Send Us a Happy New Year

God Send Us a Happy New Year

Matthew 24:3-14

            Today’s title is the refrain of the only New Year’s carol I know.  The tune Greensleeves has, as far as I know, three sets of words.  The original words are a song of lost love for the lady Greensleeves.  Most of us know the Christmas words, “What Child Is This.”  The third set of lyrics is the carol God Send Us a Happy New Year. 

            Each year, right after Christmas Day, we begin wishing everyone, “Happy New Year!”  It’s a nice sentiment, and a good wish, for all of us hope that the new year will be better than the last one.  That hope is what’s behind the baby new year replacing the tired old man who represents the year that’s ending.  Even if the past year has been one of our best we hope the new one will be an improvement.  We’ll make more money or get a better job.  Our family situation will improve.  Our kids will behave better, or win that college scholarship, or get the job that will make them financially independent of us.  We’ll get along with our spouse better, or, if we’re single, we’ll finally meet the right one!

            One of our greatest hopes, I suspect, is that our political situation will improve.  There will be fewer places in the world with open hostilities.  There will be fewer refugees cut off from their homes.  The political parties in this country will finally remember they exist to help the people and not just to win elections.  Whatever we hope for, it comes down to “God send us a happy new year.”

            Every generation since Jesus Christ’s resurrection has believed the end times were near.  The early disciples were sure Christ would return immediately, get rid of the Romans, set everything right, and take them to the place he promised in John’s gospel.  The early Christians were so convinced of this they worried that their loved ones who had died would miss out.  Paul had to reassure the Thessalonians that when Christ returned those who had died would be taken up first.  They wouldn’t lose their heavenly reward.

            Down through the centuries people have bemoaned the state of world affairs and become convinced that Jesus would return and put an end to the suffering of God’s people.  Didn’t he tell his disciples that there would be wars, earthquakes and famines—not to mention tornadoes and hurricanes, oppression and slavery, terrorism and torture?  Surely things have gotten so bad, each succeeding generation believed, that the end was imminent.

            Yet the world continues.  There has never been peace.  There have always been earthquakes and famines.  Every year we have devastating weather conditions.  Crime continues to be a problem because many people do not respect the rule of law.  We pray for peace but peace doesn’t come.  We pray for healing for loved ones but it doesn’t happen.  Is it any wonder we lose hope?  Is it any wonder we pray for an end to trouble, to war, terrorism, torture, crime, disease, but feel deep in our hearts that nothing will change, that conditions are so hopeless that the end must be near?

            So we pray, “God, send us a happy new year,” all the while believing that the only way it can be happy is if it’s the last one the world will ever see.  The world’s situation—the nation’s situation has become so terrible that only complete destruction will change things for the better.

            We must remember that God is working his purpose out.  God is taking all the strands of our lives, all the strands of world events and weaving them into the tapestry of the kingdom. 

Let’s make this new year happy by living into that promise, no matter how long it takes to be fulfilled.

One Tiny Light

One Tiny Light

John 1:1-9

            In the beginning, God spoke. “Let there be light!”  And there was light.

            “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

            Christians believe that the Word (capital W) was—and is—Jesus Christ.  Paul says (Colossians 1:15-17) that Jesus Christ existed before anything else came into being, and that all things were created by him, through him, and for him.  John says the same thing in abbreviated form in vv. 2-3: “Through him all things came to be, not one thing had its being but through him” (Jerusalem Bible:  this is slightly different from the way this verse is usually translated but I think it’s easier to understand). God spoke the Word—and all things came into being.

            God’s first command was: “Let there be light.”  Many centuries later John called Jesus Christ, “the light of humankind.”  John tells us that Jesus Christ referred to himself as, “the Light of the world” (8:12).  This is one of seven “I am” statements John records.  Jesus also called himself “the Bread of Life,” “the door of the sheep,” “the Good Shepherd,” “the resurrection and the life,” “the way, the truth, and the life,” and “the true vine.”  Taken together they paint an accurate picture of who Jesus Christ was, his relationship to the world, and why he came to earth.  Since John focuses on Jesus as the light of the world at the beginning of his gospel, let’s do the same.

            From the beginning light plays an important part in Scripture.  It is God’s first creation.  If we accept the big bang theory (and there is nothing contradictory between this theory and God’s creation of the cosmos), the bang released the energy of light, cooling over time to form suns, moons, planets, and other celestial objects.  God said, “Let there be light,” and light exploded into the emptiness of space.  What a sight that must have been!      

In the ancient world the darkness of night was complete.  Yes, there was the light provided by the moon and stars, but no other source of illumination.  There were no streetlights, no neon signs, no automobile headlights—not even a bulb on a front porch.  In darkness that complete any source of light would stand out with a brilliance difficult for us to imagine.

            When Jesus calls himself the Light of the world he is not comparing himself to other sources of light.  He is comparing himself to the total darkness that surrounded him.  Jesus Christ came into a world that was as spiritually dark as it was physically dark.  In John 8 Jesus is trying to help the Jewish leaders understand the darkness of their souls.  He tells them they can’t see him for who he is—worse yet, they cannot know his Father, because their darkness prevents them.  Their spiritual condition was like walking about on a moonless night without even a candle to light the way.

            As brilliantly as Christ’s light shone during his time on earth, it shines even more brilliantly now.  We see his light reflected in millions upon millions of people scattered throughout the world, all shining with the glow from the Light of the world.

            But that light didn’t begin brightly.  On that first Christmas night, two thousand years ago, it was merely a pinpoint, shining out of a stable, reflected in the faces of his parents—but it was enough.  That tiny light was enough to dispel the darkness, and the darkness couldn’t extinguish it. 

            “It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”  This is what God accomplished in the birth of that one tiny light

May the light of Jesus Christ dispel the darkness of our souls and the darkness of the world he came to save.