To an Unknown God

Acts 17: 16-34

16While Paul waited for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to find that the city was flooded with idols. 17He began to interact with the Jews and Gentile God-Worshippers in the synagogue. He also addressed whoever happened to be in the marketplace each day. 18Certain Epicurean and Stoic philosophers engaged him in discussion too. Some said, "What an amateur! What's he trying to say?" Others remarked, "He seems to be a proclaimer of foreign gods." (They said this because he was preaching the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.) 19They took him into custody and brought him to the council on Mars Hill. "What is this new teaching? Can we learn what you are talking about? 20You've told us some strange things and we want to know what they mean." (21They said this because all Athenians as well as the foreigners who live in Athens used to spend their time doing nothing but talking about or listening to the newest thing.)

22Paul stood up in the middle of the council on Mars Hill and said, "People of Athens, I see that you are very religious in every way. 23As I was walking through town and carefully observing your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: 'To an unknown God.' What you worship as unknown, I now proclaim to you. 24God, who made the world and everything in it, is Lord of heaven and earth. He doesn't live in temples made with human hands, 25Nor is God served by human hands, as though he needed something, since he is the one who gives life, breath, and everything else. 26From one person God created every human nation to live on the whole earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their lands. 27God made the nations so they would seek him, perhaps even reach out to him and find him. In fact, God isn't far away from any of us. 28In God we live, move, and exist. As some of your own poets said, 'We are his offspring."
29Therefore, as God's offspring, we have no need to imagine that the divine being is like a gold, silver, or stone image made by human skill and thought. 30God overlooks ignorance of these things in times past, but now directs everyone everywhere to change their hearts and lives. 31This is because God has set a day when he intends to judge the world justly by a man he has appointed. God has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead."

32When they heard about this resurrection from the dead, some began to ridicule Paul. However, others said, "We'll hear from you about this again." 33At that, Paul left the council. 34Some people joined him and came to believe, including Dionysius, a member of the council on Mars Hill, a woman named Damaris, and several others.

This is the Word of the LORD
Thanks be to God

The close of the Easter Season and the close of the Academic year often parallel each other, and this year is no exception. Around the country institutions of learning are celebrating the accomplishments of their graduates, faculty are awaiting their sabbatical leave even as they reach back to grade last term's papers and exams, and newly christened alumni listen with mildly bored expressions to commencement speakers who try in vain to teach one final lesson through the words of this poet or that philosopher.

And Paul, waiting for his companions, is deeply distressed to find the city of Athens flooded with idols.

Auditoriums swell with parental pride as the parade of graduates passes by to the tune of "Pomp and Circumstance." Churches hold special rituals to recognize the transitions that their youth are making from Youth Groups into whatever may be next. Students compare notes and final grades, celebrating triumph or commiserating about the teacher who "just didn't like me."

Paul talks to some philosophers who happen to be in the Athenian marketplace one day. They are unimpressed with his public speaking abilities, snickering to themselves even before he leaves earshot.

This time of year we see celebrations of graduations, as our brothers and sisters, children and grandchildren, and sometimes parents and grandparents, are honored as learned ones. This amazing mind which God has given us allows us to stretch ourselves and discover more of the world around us, reaching for new understandings of creation, and seeking to know more about its creator.

Paul is taken into custody and brought to the council on Mars Hill. He's interrogated about this new teaching. They've surmised he is a proclaimer of foreign gods, telling him "You've told us some strange things and we want to know what they mean."

The philosophers of Athens are the height of pluralism, and our scripture passage points to why: they were after the newest thing. Their learnedness stemmed not from a quest for truth, but from wanting to push the boundaries of what the next big thought might be.

But no matter how big the newest trend might be, God is still bigger, and for all their philosophy and culture, the Athenians don't have a handle on the one true God.

It's human nature to try and make sense of the world. Though we catch glimpses of God's activity in creation, or in a still small voice, we cannot truly know the God whom we seek by our own insight. Since we cannot hold onto the vast greatness of God we carve him up into little earthly tokens, grasping only what pieces appeal to us, making idolatry out of God's glory. Or, as Anne Lamott put it, "You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out he hates all the same people you do."

Once you've made that leap, as those who built the temples and idols that flooded the city of Athens, you're left with plenty of opportunities to pat yourself on the back for choosing the right combination of little gods. Then you can judge those who don't have their lives as together as you do. When they fail and you succeed, you can congratulate yourself for being so enlightened.

But Paul seems to have a different take on their broad swaths of enlightenment: "Paul stood up in the middle of the council on Mars Hill and said, 'People of Athens, I see that you are very religious in every way. As I was walking through town and carefully observing your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: 'To an Unknown God,' What you worship as unknown, I now proclaim to you.'"

Perhaps this altar to an unknown God was meant to be an expression of hospitality, inviting those whose worship practices were not represented elsewhere in the town. Perhaps it was a sign that their pantheon was constantly expanding, an adoptive tolerance of all new things. I tend to think it was a confession that for all their being "very religious in every way" something was still missing which their wisdom and philosophy could not fill. There's innate human desire to seek our creator, and Paul points out that "God made the nations so they would seek him," even though we are stumbling around in the dark on our own. The Athenians sense that their pantheon is just a bundle of idols, leaving them unsatisfied because it lacks truth.

Their quest for novelty thinly veils their longing for truth, as though their whole culture is saying "perhaps the next new thing will bring us wholeness." It's easy, in such an unfocused world as first-century Athens, to lose trust when each new "truth" fails in turn.

After all, in a universe that is constantly expanding, how can we really know anything? Science empirically describes the laws of nature with a little more precision each day, Arts intersect with the human experience in a few more places each moment, but they just give us facts and shadows, which can only give us passing excitement, rather than assure us of truth. In a world like first-century Athens, we can recognize the tendency toward abandoning the trust in an absolute truth. Perhaps there is only "talking about or listening to the newest thing." Are the objects of worship in the Athenian Pantheon, or even all the world's religions just different paths toward the same spiritual goal? Some universally accessible unknown god?

Nope.

This stranger, amateur, proclaimer-of-foreign-gods named Paul speaks into the maelstrom of our moral relativism with conviction that can only come with personal experiences of God: "What you worship as unknown, I now proclaim to you."

Because although humanity cannot grasp our infinite God on our own, God reveals himself to us. Scripture is one such revelation, preserved by the Holy Spirit in a form that is meant to be a unique and authoritative witness, through which God is revealed. The way we truly know God, though, is through Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh.

The place where we know Jesus best is in the crucifixion and resurrection. At the crucifixion, God shows us that death, even death on a cross, is not enough to separate us from the God who loves us. Jesus Christ descends into total separation from God, crying out "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" But such a separation cannot stand, and the power of sin and death is defeated for all time. Nothing will separate God from those whom he loves, and "God has given proof of this to everyone," Paul says, "by raising [Jesus] from the dead." No matter what else may happen, we trust that God has us firmly in hand, and will not let us go.

In a world that is so frequently unfocused as our own, where science and art redefine the boundaries of human thought daily, it is a great comfort to me to know that God is wholly reliable. The truth of God is certain, even if our perception of the world is not.

Paul frames his testimony of the risen Christ as a call to repent, to "change our hearts and lives" in this translation. But when the truth is revealed, how can we not turn away from the idol distractions of the marketplaces of Athens and dedicate our lives to glorifying God and enjoying him forever? Christ has established a new model for what it means to be a human being, one grounded in obedient faith and relentless love for God and our fellow humans.

That's the next new thing that Paul offers Athens: a life liberated from slavery to sin, an opportunity to participate in the work of the Holy Spirit, and the assurance that we are redeemed by a God who loves us. It's a new life, but an ancient truth that was established from before the foundations of the world. It also means leaving behind the habits we built in "our ignorance of these things in times past." That's a tough thing for those who have benefited from those old habits to do. Chasing each new thing has made them famous, or wealthy, or powerful, the truth of God promises none of these things. As one commentator put it, "Novelty attracts their attention more quickly than truth."

While we are pursuing the new and shiny, the truth of God pursued us and claimed us as precious, and honored in God's sight. Where Paul saw an altar to an unknown God, we have come to know God through Christ. We can walk, therefore, in newness of life, instead of just chasing novelty.

So, in that newness of life, let us establish a pluralism that isn't based on the newest thing, but is grounded in truth. Let us build a tolerance that isn't based on permissiveness, but which flows through righteousness. We have a God who is known to us, we know that "In God we live, move, and exist", and we live in a world that is seeking God. If that's not a call to service, I don't know what is.

But something seems to be stopping us. It's possible that we don't entirely trust this new opportunity to participate in the work of the Holy Spirit. Maybe we are afraid that like Paul, we'll be mocked. Perhaps we're worried that if we share too much of this news we'll have to change ourselves. Compared to the cost of discipleship, it's certainly easier to dismiss others while celebrating our own achievement.

There's a lot of self-congratulation among the Athenian Philosophers who mock Paul for his simple mannerisms and strange ideas, and I think that is a temptation for the church as well. When we look at ourselves as the enlightened ones we look down on the "others," whomever they may be. Occasionally that means non-believers, but usually it means people whom we have decided worship in the wrong way, or who do church differently than we do. It's easy to say that this group is too quick to follow the new and trendy, or to say that group is too slow and stuck in their ways. Either way, we take a moment to celebrate that we are wiser and more aware of the "real world" than they.

By judging ourselves as superior to those on whom we shower our disdain, we are supplanting the true Judge - our Lord Jesus Christ - of whom we are called to be servants. Our task is not to judge the "unenlightened," but to love them, just as Christ first loved us.

Paul states that "God has set a day when he intends to judge the world justly by a man he has appointed." But that should not give us anxiety. The man whom God has appointed to judge the world justly is Christ, who died for us, who rose for us, who reigns in power over us, and who prays for us.

The same one who judges us is also the one in whom we have our redemption. Though it will not make sense to any of our philosophies born of human observation, Christ's resurrection shows the truth of who God is.

Because the truth of God cannot be contained. The Roman Empire tried to crucify the truth, but Christ lives through the resurrection. "When the council of Mars Hill heard about this resurrection from the dead, some of them began to ridiculed Paul", and Lord knows God's petty people have found innumerable ways to misrepresent the truth over our history. But we know God is still active in the world, sometimes through us, sometimes in spite of us. Through all the hurt in our world and in our church, we do not seek "an unknown god." We pray to the God who is revealed in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Pentecost is almost upon us, Easter season is coming to a close. Like the graduates commencing with the next chapter of their lives, we have been given the knowledge we need to begin. The only degree we need was conferred at our baptism. We are called to serve not because it's the next new thing but because it's who we are. Our identity is deeply rooted in the identity of Jesus Christ, who shows us what it means to be a human being. It's not enough to just say it in our buildings, we've got to get out and listen to the ways that our people are seeking God, and to find ways tell to them the truth that has set us free.

Salvation and Sin (a throwback for the sake of discussion)

I wrote this several years ago as a Facebook Note (remember those?) Having taken some actual theology classes since then, there are a few thinks I say in here that I might say a little differently, but I still think this is a fair characterization of Grace-centered Calvinism (also know as actual Calvinism).

Alright, here's the thing. I come from the reformed tradition, that means I am a Theological descendant of Martin Luther, John Calvin and specifically to me as a Presbyterian, John Knox. We like the Bible, we like God, we like people.

Now on to the harder part.

I believe that people suck. A lot. At almost everything.

Nobody is capable of saving themselves. Period. Post-Fall humanity is not able to approach God in any way shape or form.

But wait, there's more...

So there's this guy Jesus, a regular guy with a few exceptions: He's the son of God, He's sinless, and he's here to re-establish that communication. He tells people to be nice to one another, pay their taxes, not to resist oppression, and to devote their lives to God.

So naturally we, as people who suck, killed him for it.

Which worked out OK in the end, because through his death AND RESURRECTION humanity was saved.

Read that last part again.

OK, now once more.

That's good. I believe that I was saved almost 2000 years ago when Jesus died and rose again from the dead. I also believe that that statement is either true or not true for everyone else on the planet. If you are among the elect, it's because of God's work, not because you said "Ok, this Jesus sounds like a cool guy, I think I'll follow him now." The action of accepting Jesus implies some ability on the part of the human to affect their own salvation. Which is not the case. We are saved by the Grace of God, once we decide that Jesus had it going on we start to live lives more according to the will of God.

Which makes life here much better. It makes our lives better as Children of God. It makes the world a better place. But does it affect our salvation?

Say it with me now...

NO!

Good. Glad we got that straight.

Does that mean I'm sinless? By no means. I sin every day. Paul said "Whenever I try to do good, evil is right there with me." He's absolutely right. All of us want to do good, all of us want to be good. All of us want to be loved.

Let's address those one at a time shall we?

Do I do good?

Sometimes, but usually not. Just by realizing I did something good for another person and patting yourself on the back you have done something not good. Way to be prideful. Next time I do something intentionally good, it will be for that rush of happiness from helping someone. Way to be selfish. Good is still done, and the other person may not realize that I'm helping them only in the process of helping yourself, it's still worth doing, but it's still not righteous.

Am I good?

No. I suck. I deserve to spend an eternity suffering in hell.

Am I loved?

ABSOLUTELY. If I'm not loved, why am I not being destroyed/already been destroyed? God loves us all more than we can possibly imagine. That's why Jesus came, because God loved me, and you, and everybody else. Quit trying to earn it, it's irritating. Be yourself with all your suckiness and try to let God have a little more control in your life.

Ok, a lot more control would be nice, but we need to start somewhere.

Everybody sins. Constantly. Anyone who says they are without sin is full of lies. The good news is you're forgiven before you've even said you're sorry. At least by God, people might hold a grudge for a while.

So I can't save myself, and I can't stop sinning, and I'm already saved, so why not just go on sinning and reaping the benefits of it?

Ah, that's the big question isn't it...

Answer: Beats the hell out of me. Go ahead, I can't stop you, God probably won't stop you. But God loves you, and I'm pretty sure you like him too and want to make him proud of you. That's why you follow Christ, that's why you do good things. It makes Father proud of you and glad he created you. Because post-resurrection, we are part of a new creation, and God can see the image of God in us, therefore we can approach God and say "sorry, I really screwed that one up," and "thanks God, I appreciate that," and even "God, was that really necessary, I didn't appreciate that very much."

So go, show God you're grateful. Give it a shot. Screw up, but do it boldly and trying to make headway for the Kingdom of God. Who knows, God might even use your hands to do God's work.

What do you think? Do you disagree with what I said here back in 2007? Is college Joseph a crazy heretic? Let me know in the comments!

Means and Ends

Perhaps the biggest problem facing the Church today is the assumption that it is an end to be pursued and preserved.

The Church is a means, not an end.

There a lot of debate going on right now about the future of the Church as an institution, some argue that its time has passed into irrelevancy, and it will die. Others are quite hopeful, saying that the church is going to change before our very eyes into something new that will be an agent of faithful change in the world. Still others say that the church stands apart from the rest of culture, willing and able to be a beacon for a different kind of life, even if that means that those who are less faithful will fall away.

This post does not enter into which of those views I think is most accurate. All of those views assume that the Church is a goal, a stronger church, a better church, a more engaged church, some version of church as an end.

The Church is a means, not an end.

The study of "Church," or "ecclesiology," is not a new field, it goes back basically as long as there has been a church. There are plenty of books and articles one can read, plenty of talks one can attend, but I am of the opinion that we need to remember to whom churches belong. (Spoiler Alert!: It's not the Church.)

We belong to God.

Now for any readers out there who are not Presbyterian, Protestant, or even Christian, don't worry, you belong to God too, it's a sovereignty thing. You don't have to be a part of my Church (or any church) to belong to God.

The Church is a means, not an end.

The end is God, to whom we belong. The primary goal of life, according to my faith tradition (read:the right one) is to reveal the magnificence of God and to enjoy him forever. There's your meaning of life, Philosophy Majors. Problem solved, you're welcome. Now, like finding the question to the ultimate answer, we get to figure out exactly how we "glorify God and enjoy him forever."

The Church is a means, not an end.

The Church is one way that people have, for centuries, done exactly that. It is not (gasp) the only way, neither will I claim that it is the best way for each individual, but it has been the best way for billions of people over hundreds of years.

"The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its own life."

It's not a political institution, it's not a country club, it's not something that needs to be protected from outside threats. The Church is not an end to be sought, it's a way that we enact the chief end of humanity. As long as people find it a good way (and please hear me, it really is,) to reveal the magnificence of God and enjoy God forever, the rest will fall into place. If it doesn't do that, then perhaps God is doing a new thing in our midst?

The Church is a means, not an end.

Choosing to die?

Listen up churches,

You have the option, and it's not one I'm going to choose on your behalf. You may choose to die. But if that is the option you have chosen, don't pretend, be honest about it. There's no shame in answering the call to death so that new life may spring up.

But don't pretend that you're interested in growth if you're not willing to change.

Growth is a kind of change.

When churches change, one of the complaints that ministers often here is that "This doesn't feel like my church anymore." Here's my response:

Was it ever yours to begin with? Or is does the church belong to Jesus Christ?

A church with whom I used to be associated has recently realized that their old members keep getting older, and new members are not replacing them. The result has been that they are trying to grow those young families, they say they want them, and are implementing programs to gather them in.

But they're not willing to actually change anything. It's like they're looking for young families who are already the same as they already are.

Well if you're not attracting new members, perhaps that oppressive sameness is the reason? Each generation has its own needs, its own issues, and for a church to fail to deal with them ignores their existence and doesn't feed the hunger that each group has. You may as well have worship in a different language!

If you are choosing not to change how you do things, you are choosing to die as an institution. Which is absolutely ok. If God is calling you as a church to minister to congregation as it declines and dies, we believe in the resurrection, and if God so wills it, a new church will rise up.

But don't pretend you want new people if you're not willing to change to accommodate them. The holy spirit is active in every time and place, and "that's the way we've always done it" is not a good enough reason.

Lord of the Bullies...and the Bullied.

I had the great privilege this weekend to watch a newly ordained minister preside over the sacrament of the Lord's Supper for the first time. It was, as my generation would say, totally awesome.

I was at the Calvin Center for their annual Middle School conference, the topic of which was bullying. Our keynoter, a long time friend of mine, was also charged with preaching and presiding at table on Sunday.

Oh, and Sunday was world communion Sunday. So there's that.

So we'd been talking all weekend about bullying, covering the obvious topics such as "God still loves you even if bullies don't," and there was a little bit of "if you see bullying, you should intervene." But the hardest thing about which we talked was the bit about loving those who bully you.

And we came to the table together on Sunday.

I was struck by how theologically correct the outdoor worship space at Camp Calvin is, there's a table, a place from which scripture can be read and proclaimed, and a large lake that serves as the visual reminder of the waters of baptism.

The image that has stayed with me though, is one of Christ walking on water, coming to us in the midst of our stormy lives, to sit at table with those who are bullied, and those who bully. That's terribly uncomfortable for those who are victims of bullying, but the bullies themselves will feel a thrill of fear when they too are invited to join.

Because at the table, all of our posturing and posing falls away, and we are left as the forgiven sinners that we are. If that is not a humbling experience, I don't know what is.

It was the pastor's first time presiding, and he served both bullies and their targets with the same words, the same bread, and the same cup.

Because when one member suffers, the whole body suffers. And we come to the table to live that out.

Home By Now (II Corinthians 5:1-10,16-21)

Home By Now from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Base!

It’s the safe place, those playing the game have set it aside as a state that is outside the rules of the game, where the person who is “it” can’t get to you. A place where the slower ones among us can stop to catch our breath, and those who are more daring can venture farther and farther away, tempting the “it” person after them, only to dash back to whatever tree or post has been designated as the inviolable safe zone.

In baseball, the rules about bases are more prescribed, only one person on a base at a time, you have to go through them in a specific order, and you can’t pass someone on your team.

But the concept is the same, as long as you’re touching this bag, you’re safe. Everything else is just an incentive to get off of the base so the defense has a chance to get you.

Like so much of what happens in our schoolyard days, we never really grow out of these bases. They just get more complex. Rather than just picking whatever landmark catches our attention, we build houses, offices, buy fancy cars, or just lay claim to a particular booth at our favorite restaurant. Because, Hey, if we lived here, we’d be home by now.

Paul, though, puts us into a tent. And like our schoolyard bases, the only thing that keeps us safe in this tent is that we’ve all agreed to pretend that there is more between us and the chaotic world from which we’re retreating than such a thin piece of fabric. If you tag me when I’m already on base, you don’t understand the game. If you come into my tent, then you’re not playing right. But the reality is that our tents can collapse in on us with no warning, because they are held up only by what we have said at recess.

But as Christians, we don’t have to be afraid of that. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

Now that sounds like some sort of divine homeless shelter that we can tap into when our camping trip goes horribly awry. Many Americans see God in exactly that light too, as an emergency shelter when we can’t handle things on our own. I see the situation differently, largely because of the next verse. “In this tent we groan, longing to be clothed in our heavenly dwelling.”

That groan makes all the difference. It’s a groan of anticipation, of longing for something that is already here, but is not yet apparent. It’s the same groaning in which the whole of creation joins as we suffer together in the birth pangs of the age of the Spirit, the new creation that Christ has ushered in for us. We’re waiting for that birth to be completed, and Paul, in a mixed metaphor that makes this English Major cringe, gives voice to our desire to be clothed in Christ’s righteousness so that we do not have to stand on our own, because all we have is our own naked limited selves and this crude tent we have fashioned out of our own abilities. We groan because even though we live here, we thought we’d be home by now.

So we continue to live here, in this earthly tent, because it’s what we’ve got. It’s a temporary dwelling, and our mistake is only when we put our trust in it and ignore its expiration date. But that which is mortal will be swallowed up by life, and the one who has prepared us for this very thing is God, and God’s continuing presence through the power of the Holy Spirit is our guarantee, or as one translation put it, our “down payment” on this new home that God has built for us.

All of our earthy efforts to build up some fantastic building for ourselves are just making a fancier tent. It’s a place where we can yell “base,” but its comfort is fading, because this is not our true home, we don’t fit here, but we know where we belong. “So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.”

That verse is troublesome. We want to be able to do both, to somehow be able to experience God in a real way, but that very desire also captures the heart of being created in the image of God and walking on this earth as a human being. Walking, Paul says, by faith, not by sight. We can walk with our God, and be assured of her nurturing love, and feel his protecting presence around us. But there is a degree of separation while we are at home in the body. We feel the presence, we know God is intimately and continually involved in creation, but it’s not the same as being able to know God the same way God knows us. A divide exists because we are human, and limited by nature. So we long for unity with God, even while we are at home in the body.

This body, which is not just our flesh, but all that we are, is our home because we remain a people who are redeemed and claimed by God, but who have not seen the whole of the kingdom of God. We can see the kingdom, and the face of God, but in a mirror, dimly, and we move in faith because we are confident that one day we will see face to face. Yes, we have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord, where we can know the fullness of God’s love and be truly whole, as has always been intended for us. We do not belong to this world, we belong to Christ.

But we still live in this world, a world that so badly needs the savior that God has already lovingly given to us, a world that stubbornly refuses to admit that need. For the time being, we reside in this world, living in tents while we await the transition to our home in the Kingdom of Heaven. So whether we are at home or away, we must make it our aim to please God. Because we are the body of Christ, all of us and each of us. We are representatives of Christ to this world, sent to faithfully embody the gospel in a world that thinks it’s already living the good life, even if it doesn’t look too well.

We see our home here, and we know that all too often it doesn’t feel like the place of comfort, love, good feelings, and acceptance that we want it to be. It’s a world where we are separated from our Lord, and like so many families that have gone through a separation, a divorce, or a death, we have to learn how to be a family when we cannot be with those whom we love, and those who love us. We once knew Christ from a human point of view, but we know him no longer in that way. We cannot go back to the way things were, but we can move forward in faith knowing that something new and beautiful is already being created for us. So we look forward to the day when our home can be made whole again, even though we do not know what that will look like.

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view. Our world has changed, and we also are different, because of God’s action in Christ and through the power of the Holy Spirit. We know that this world does not have the final hold on us, and that the limits of our abilities do not limit what God is already doing in the new creation.

It’s in accordance with the prophecy we read in Isaiah that God’s new creation is coming to fruition. While this world where we are encamped is full of brokenness, God is creating a new heaven and new earth. Anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see everything has become new! The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. As people who belong to Christ, we are a part of that new heaven and new earth. We are no longer held back by any of the things that we used to oppress ourselves and one another. All of this freedom, all of this new creation, all of the joy and delight of which Isaiah speaks, all of this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.

We know that in spite of all of the running around, all the stuff we create for ourselves is just a game of tag. It matters to those who are playing, but when the game ends, both the “it” and the rest are welcome in each other’s homes. God has set aside a home for us, a place from which we can explore new things, new possibilities, freed from the fear of having to earn our place in the world. The Lord is our home, and that same Christ that we claim as the center of our lives answers us before we can call out, and while we are yet speaking, God hears.

They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.

That’s the image of a world that is redeemed. We no longer need to set aside a “base” for ourselves, because all of creation will be brought together in peace. We’ll be at home with our Lord once again. We know that in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, going down to a world that was fallen so that it could be lifted up again, elevated to be with God because God has declared it so, not counting their trespasses against them. We know that we are not our own, and we do not belong to this world, but rather we belong to God, and are fellow heirs of the kingdom with Christ Jesus our Lord.

And this message of reconciliation is entrusted to us. Not just Paul and his followers in Corinth, us. Not just those of us who are called to sit in the front and lead worship, all of us. Not just those of us who serve on committees, or who volunteer, not just this particular congregation, but the whole of the Body of Christ. We groan in our tents because we know that we do not belong there, we have been reconciled to Christ and we cannot go back to the way things used to be. Isaiah message of a new creation, Paul’s message of a reconciling Christ, that message is entrusted to us.

So we are ambassadors for Christ. We don’t have a higher rank in heaven, we don’t get any special treatment on earth, the opposite is often true. We are ambassadors in a foreign land, and we are easy to ignore, because the world does not even know that they need to hear us.

But as Christ’s ambassadors, we don’t need to be effective, because we know that God will effect any and all change. We just need to tell our story. That for our sake God caused the one who didn’t know sin to be sin for our sake so that through him we could become the righteousness of God. The story is that we do not need to be righteous, we belong to Christ, and God will stop at nothing to be reconciled to us, to be with us in the heights of our joys and the depths of our sorrows. Home is not where we are insulated from our suffering, home is where we can engage with everything that is going on in our lives and know that we are still loved, and that we don’t have to be afraid.

We don’t have to be afraid because God is our home, God who is the giver and renewer of life. All we do we do out of gratitude for what God has done for us, in simply making a space for us to be at home with one another and with God. Those of us who are slower can catch our breath, those of us who are more daring can venture farther out and explore all of creation, and we are all secure in the knowledge that our heavenly father is waiting for us, with a loving smile, when we turn back toward home again.

Why Bother

Joshua 24:1-25

I grew up with this text, or rather, a portion of it. Both my parents and my Grandparents have a plaque prominently displayed in their respective houses that read “The Taber House, Choose this day whom you will serve...But as for me and my house, we shall serve the LORD.” My presence with you today is a testament to how my family has adopted this almost defiant challenge as a motto. So when I read those lines in this text, I immediately connected it to my rich family history, and all the things that have happened with my ancestors to bring me to the point in my life when I am actively pursuing God as a vocation.

This text starts with the same reminder for the people of Israel, and Joshua makes sure everybody is there to hear it. One could imagine the scene, everybody gathers together, closes up their shops, ties up their animals, puts down whatever they’re doing, and goes to listen to Joshua deliver the word of God. Then Joshua calls up all the community leaders, for us it would be the teachers, the lawyers, the doctors, and they get to sit in the hot seat, or as our passage puts it, “They presented themselves before God.”

In my Theology class, we all sit in a circle to discuss the readings for that week, and everybody races to get to class early, so that we don’t have to sit next to the professor, and when somebody does have to sit next to Dr. Stroup, we all glance knowingly back and forth as if we know that they’re going to get the brunt of his questions. We avoid it because we’re worried we won’t measure up to his judgement. He’s an imposing presence, but being at his side is nothing near presenting yourself before God. The elders of Israel are about hear the word of the LORD, and they get to sit right under God’s nose while it is spoken.

This word could have been a new code of laws to replace the ones they received in the desert. But it wasn’t. It could have been a declaration of who would replace Joshua, who dies after these events, just as Joshua replaced Moses. But it wasn’t. It could have been an announcement about where the people would go to expand their new promised land next. But it wasn’t.

Instead they got a History Lesson from author of all creation. “In olden times, your forefathers...lived beyond the Euphrates and worshiped other gods.” But God intervened, and brought Abraham out of Ur and into Canaan. Abraham was childless, but God intervened. “I gave him Isaac, and to Isaac I gave Jacob and Esau.” Jacob, the same man who would wrestle with God, father the beginnings of the twelve tribes of Israel, and in chapter 35 of Genesis tells his household to put away their foreign gods in the same city where all of Israel is now gathered. The same man who would lead his family to Egypt, where they survived a great famine, and eventually became slaves.

But God intervened, and brought the people out of their slavery in Egypt, into the wilderness where they became a nation, instead of a slave population. And many battles later, God reminds the people standing in the land given to their ancestor Abraham hundreds of Godly interventions before that “I have given you a land for which you did not labor and towns which you did not build, and you have settled in them; you are enjoying vineyards and olive groves which you did not plant.”

God has given the people these things, they did not earn them. It is not a matter of deserving, it is a matter of God giving freely as God so chooses. Joshua tells the people, as Jacob had long ago, to put away the gods of their forefathers beyond the Euphrates, and the gods of Egypt, and to serve the LORD.

Interestingly though, this is an option, not a command. Joshua says “If you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose whom you will serve,” the gods of your forefathers or of the people in whose land you are settled. If God has not intervened in our lives and in our history enough for you, go ahead and worship the gods of other nations, and remember that this was their land first, and that the LORD gave it to us. There’s no downside offered here, only an account of what God has done and a charge to choose to whom we will devote ourselves.

The people speak in one voice: “Far be it from us to forsake the LORD and serve other gods!...We too will serve the LORD, for he is our God.” There is no mention of what God will do in the future for the Israelites. As far as this passage is concerned, the promise has been fulfilled. God has intervened in their history and freed them from slavery, and the people are now committed to serving the LORD despite Joshua’s warnings that they will fall and be punished because they cannot live up to the gifts God has given them.

So why bother? Joshua gives them the out, they won’t be expelled if they choose not to serve the LORD. They aren’t promised eternal life for serving God, or even extra “stars in their crown.” So far as I can see, there’s no advantage in choosing to serve God, the only threat I see is when one falls off the wagon after claiming to serve God and making a new golden calf out of their new valuables. “Now therefore revere the LORD, and serve him in sincerity and faithfulness” is an invitation to enter into relationship with God, an ordination of service in gratitude to God who has already done so much for the people of Israel.

I remember when I was in high school, I was sitting on the front lawn of the school waiting for my parents to come pick me up at the end of the day, and one of my classmates, a very intelligent young woman taking upper-level classes, asked me why I was a Christian. She saw me as an equal who believed in something that did not make sense to her, and wanted to know how I got there. The same question was later posed as the subject of a Bible Study when I was in college. The professor leading the discussion answered his own question with a claim that there is no advantage in being a Christian. It doesn’t make life’s hardships go away, or even less hard. There’s no magic prayer that will fix any of us. Those of us in the Calvinist tradition say that our salvation is not at stake based on anything we do or believe. Why bother then?

This passage provides the answer for me. The people speak with one voice saying “It was the LORD who brought us and our fathers and mothers up from...the house of bondage, and who wrought those wondrous signs before our very eyes.” We are Christians not because it gives us a special connection with God. We are Christians because serving our Christ how we show our gratitude for all God has already done for us.

Our slavery was to sin and death, and had been since the fall of Adam and Eve. But as Paul’s letter to the Romans tells us “The free gift of Christ isn’t like Adam’s failure. If many people died through what one person did wrong, God’s grace is multiplied even more for many people with the gift - of the one person Jesus Christ - that comes through grace.” We were slaves to sin, but now we have been brought out of the house of that bondage, and Christ is our liberator. And we remember that our salvation is not earned, our salvation is created by the same one who created all that is, and is given to us by a God of love.

That is why we choose to serve Christ. We were buried together with him through baptism into his death, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too can walk in newness of life. We are freed from sin’s power because we belong to God, and in gratitude to God for all God has done for us, “We will serve none but the LORD our God, and we will obey none but him.”

The people of Israel are gathered at Shechem, and are waiting to hear the word of the LORD. We do not know what is ahead, but we know what God has already done for us, God brought our forefathers to the promised land, turned an old man into the father of a tribe, protected our tribe from a famine, brought our people out of Egypt and made us a nation. God gave the nation of Israel a home, and they chose to serve the LORD.

It is a scene of devotion. The people of Israel don’t know what is coming, but we do know what happened next. Although they are free from their Egyptian slavery, they are still under the power of sin and death. So God intervenes, and Christ breaks the power of sin and death over all of us. We’ve seen more than these Israelites could have dreamed of, and the question is still put to us, Whom will you serve? As a response in faith to all God has done for us, me and my house shall serve the Lord.

Beautiful agony.

Today is Ascension Sunday, marked by the Acts text from earlier this morning. Next week, we’ll celebrate the birthday of the Church at Pentecost. But today, we’ve seen the resurrection, and we know that battle against sin and death is won. Christ has gone to heaven to prepare a place for us, and we’re left here waiting.

We’re waiting for a world that will be made right again, for a world where we can see God’s presence in everything we do. We’re anticipating the arrival of the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth, and we’re surprised that it has happened yet.

Of course, this world in which we are left hasn’t yet heard that the battle has been won, so they’re happy to ignore us until we become a problem and then persecute us when we do, which is where we find ourselves in 1 Peter 4:12. Listen now for the Word of the Lord

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory, which is the Spirit of God, is resting on you.

Continuing in Chapter 5:6:

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you. Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering. And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever. Amen.

The grass withers, and the flower fades, but the Word of our Lord shall stand forever Thanks be to God

Wait, what was that about a fiery ordeal? I didn’t sign on for that. I’m here for the potlucks and the coffee. Nobody asked me about suffering when I joined the church. I thought once I became a Christian that would mean that my suffering was over, and God would protect me forever and ever amen. You’re welcome to your suffering if you like, but now that God’s on my side I don’t need to anymore. That’s how you know I’m saved, because I’m blessed, and don’t suffer...But that’s not what the text says.

We’re American Christians, and whether or not one thinks that we live in a “Christian Nation,” we certainly don’t have to face the same kind of persecution with which the church to whom this letter was addressed lived every day. This letter is addressed to the exiles of the Dispersion, which means these exiled are Jewish Christians living in other countries. These peoples would have lived as second class citizens, if they were citizens at all, and could be banished on the whim of local governors, and were deprived of their own homeland, even if they thought of where they lived as home. This was a time before the Roman Empire made persecuting Christians a national pastime, so these are persistent local persecutions. The kind of thing where merchants won’t sell you their goods, just because you used the name of Christ in blessing your meal. The kind of thing where will slap you with a lawsuit without any proof, just so you’ll go away. The community is pushing Christianity out in every way it can because it is different. Christians aren’t being thrown to the lions, but they might be lynched. So where can we, who live in a wealthy country and in a safe community, stand in this text? Because we don’t suffer like that.

Maybe not like that, but we do suffer. We suffer from all kinds of stress, we suffer from disease, our finances aren’t as secure as they used to be, our families fight, our friendships end, as do our marriages, and we are left needing so desperately to be restored, supported, strengthened, and established, but our suffering for a little while lasts a whole lot longer than we like. And our conversion doesn’t call the cavalry to conquer our doubts and end our suffering.

So why be a Christian then, if we still have to suffer? After all, we, as creatures, are programmed to avoid pain and seek pleasure. Wouldn’t we get more converts if it gave us an easy out from the hardships of this world? And yet it doesn’t. It’s not easy, and it’s counter-intuitive, and it’s risky. Discipleship flies in the face of what we are hardwired to do, because not only does it away from those things that please us, but it tells to pick up our crosses and go to our deaths along with Jesus. God, you love us, why are you asking us to take on some of Christ’s suffering? You’re all powerful, can’t you just make it go away?

Our understanding of suffering is that those who are able to avoid it do so, the association we make in our own minds is that the powerful do not suffer, only the weak do. If a person falls on hard times, we talk about them as the “weaker brother,” and offer to help them only out of our strength, but we preach Christ crucified, which is foolishness to those who desire logic. Our God doesn’t need to follow our logic, our God isn’t bound by what is dreamt of in our philosophy.

Our God is powerful enough to take our sins onto himself, that we might be spared the wages of sin that we had earned. It begins with God taking a share in our suffering. But not just a share, God took all shares upon himself in the crucifixion. And in that moment, God also suffered the profound abandonment that we all fear. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” It wasn’t glamorous, It wasn’t glorious, it wasn’t a superhero moment, it was a man’s desperate cry as Christ was separated from God. Our God loves us enough to suffer at our hands for what we had done, and continue to do. Our God is powerful enough to claim that suffering, go where by definition God was not, and come out on the other side.

And so the suffering is no longer our own. But neither are we our own. Rather we belong to God, who adopts us through Christ’s death and resurrection.

When I was about ten years old, my Dad had us installing some new drainage pipes in the Burke county red clay of our back yard. We of course chose to do this in the middle of July, when temperatures could be described as fiery. Burke County is not especially famous for its red clay, but I can attest that Burke County red clay, when exposed to heat, reacts like any other red clay in the world. That is to say, it turns to brick. So I’m waist deep in a hole that I’ve been working on for hours trying to dig a pipe out of the ground so we can spend more hours putting a new pipe in, and I’m thinking that this is quite the ordeal, out in this fiery weather, and maybe Dad’s testing us. Teaching us the hard way so that we’ll appreciate it that much more when he shows us the easy way, that we’ll shout for joy when the glory of the magical power tool that will make my shovel obsolete is revealed.

So I look up at my father, who was of course, on the back porch, in the shade, with a large glass of ice tea in his hand, watching us work.

“Dad” I say, “Is there an easier way to do this?”

“Sure,” He replies, taking a long slow sip of his drink, “Have sons.”

Like a child learning to do chores, it would be easier on us if it was all just done for us, but we are asked to do it anyway, because our heavenly Father knows that we’re not taking on Christ’s suffering, we’re taking up our own crosses to claim not only our suffering, but also our redemption. We are responding to this act of perfect love out of gratitude for what is already done on our behalf. A child washes a load of laundry, or mows the lawn, or cleans the house, or digs a ditch for a drainage pipe. A Disciple follows this example and takes part in the suffering on Christ’s behalf, not because Christ couldn’t get by without it, or because God will reward us with an extra star in our crown or whatever. We act because we have to respond in faith to what God has done for us, even though it means choosing to the suffering that accompanies that action.

We were suffering before we were in Christ, so in that sense, not much is changed. What has changed is that now we have the Father to restore us when we are empty, Christ to support us when we are falling, the Spirit to strengthen us when we grow weak, and through all this God establishes us as territories of God’s own kingdom, and as members of God’s own household. We still suffer, but we do not suffer in bondage to sin and death, rather we suffer along with all creation in the birth pangs of a new age, and we know God shall wipe away every tear from our eyes.

This passage tells us that while we are suffering, the Spirit of God is resting on us. That spirit resting on us sounds to me like a firm hand, holding us to our task until it is completed, because it is so easy to back away from our calling. It is a weighty blessing, a crown, but a crown of thorns, and it keeps us grounded on this Ascension Sunday, because we still have work to do.

This time last week, I was driving to Savannah, GA on my honeymoon. A number of y’all attended the service where Leah and I married one another. I spent most of that weekend in a haze of excitement and nervousness, but the image that penetrated that haze was of my families, Barnard, Boshell, Potter, and Taber all working together at the rehearsal dinner. We carried food for one another, served one another bread, opened and poured wine, and taking care of all the other minor inconveniences that we do to show each other love around a dinner table. In some small way, the work, and the tiniest bit of suffering that accompanied it, mirrored the Kingdom of Heaven for me. It’s not a state where there is no suffering, it’s one where that suffering is totally overshadowed by the love we hold for one another. We barely even notice that we’re tired, or that we’ve spilled something on our new outfit, we are suffering, but it’s so minor next to what we are doing for one another. This is the work we have been waiting for, this is why we remain in a suffering broken world.

I spent the hours preceding our wedding in a beautiful agony, waiting for the arrival of the moment when I would see Leah walk up the aisle. It’s not the dread of bad news that saps all of ones energy to act. But it is exhausting and debilitating. It’s not the excitement of a Christmas morning where one can’t help but wake up earlier than an uncoffeed parent would prefer, but it is an anticipation of what is to come. It’s not the nervousness that comes with hearing back from a job interview, but it is something on which my life hinges. It’s a suffering in which one can rejoice, because the suffering is not the end of the story. For me, it was a wedding, for the church, it’s being exalted by God, and it all happens in due time.

The suffering is important, and reflects the work we need to do in a world that still needs its savior. We become Christians because we have seen a part of that work, and feel compelled by gratitude to take join in the fiery ordeal that is a part of this task.

We join the church because the community of faith means we don’t have to suffer alone, we have such a great chorus of witnesses telling us, “I remember when I stood there, and I remember when it was hard. I also remember that ours is the God who works wonders, and who’s path to the promised land is through the waters. It is still hard, and we do suffer. But we can, with God’s help, get through this.”

Our brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering, the birth pangs of the expectant mother, the excited terror of the groom waiting for his bride, the weighty blessings of a church called to live in a suffering world. Our suffering is not a sign that God has abandoned us to our sinfulness, it is a sign that our world still needs its savior. Our savior is risen, our savior has ascended to heaven, and our savior will come again to complete the work of creation’s redemption. Because the God of all grace has called us to his eternal glory in Christ, and the end of the story is not a suffering crucified God, or even a rising from the dead. Neither is it an ascension that leaves us staring in wonder, or a gift of the Spirit. Our story will end as it began. The God of all creation shall restore that creation, and will support us as we love one another, and will strengthen the relationships between us and God, and will establish a world where all will know that the Lord is God. When God finishes all the work that God has been doing, God will bless that day and call it holy. And it will be good.