Heb 2:14-18 & Rom 8:31-39

Mid-30’s AD – Stephen, is stoned by the people of Jerusalem.

155 AD – Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna, is arrested by the Romans. At this time, the Christians were being captured and martyred for their faith under the charge of atheism, because they refused to sacrifice to the Roman gods or proclaim the deity of the emperor. Knowing that the mob was searching for him, Polycarp fled the city to a nearby village, and when the people came there, fled to another farm. When the people searching for him could not find him, they tortured the people who were living there, and one young man gave up Polycarp’s location. When the officers came to arrest Polycarp, this bishop, having received a vision that he was going to be martyred, chose not to flee, but to remain in the house, offering food and drink to the officers, and praying for the church and the officers before willingly going with the officers. He was given chance after chance to “repent” and proclaim that he was not a Christian; to swear by Caesar and to curse Christ. Instead, Polycarp responded. “Eighty and six years have I served him, and he hath done me no wrong; how then can I blaspheme my king who saved me?”

The people demanded that Polycarp be fed to the beasts, but having already returned the beasts to their cages, Philip, head of the government in the province of Asia, agreed to burn Polycarp at the stake. “They surrounded him with those substances which had been prepared for the funeral pile. But when they were about also to fix him with nails, he said, "Leave me as I am; for He that giveth me strength to endure the fire, will also enable me, without your securing me by nails, to remain without moving in the pile." They did not nail him then, but simply bound him. And he, placing his hands behind him, and being bound like a distinguished ram [taken] out of a great flock for sacrifice, and prepared to be an acceptable burnt-offering unto God, looked up to heaven, and” he prayed. They lit the fire, but the fire would not consume his body, so they commanded an executioner to drive a dagger through his body. The people wondered that there should be such a difference between the unbelievers and the elect, of whom this most admirable Polycarp was one, having …been an apostolic and prophetic teacher, and bishop of the …Church which is in Smyrna.

16^th century Germany – The Plague has taken Europe by storm, driving deep fear into the hearts of the people. Remember the scene from Monty Python? Three men with a cart walk through a city with one man crying out “Bring out your dead.” A body is thrown onto the cart, and another man walks up to the cart with an elderly man flung over his shoulder, saying, “Here’s one.” To which the elderly man replies, “I’m not dead yet.” The scene is intended to be funny and deeply ironic, and it is. But there is much truth in it as well. The people were terrified, and anyone who appeared slightly ill was feared and ostracized because no one wanted to die.

Into this situation, Martin Luther writes to his people. Instead of fearing death, the church should be caring for the sick. At a time when hospitals were not really in existence, Luther told his people that they should be the hospitals, taking care of the people for whom no one else in society would care. They should either trust God to keep them healthy in the midst of the sickness, and recognize that if they did become sick, that their inheritance was not of this world but of the Kingdom of God.

21^st century America – A young man is diagnosed with cancer. After a long battle and series of treatments, the doctors determine that there is nothing else they can do. Along the way, he has kept a blog about his treatments and the faithfulness of God in the midst of all his struggles. He and his family have sent emails to the church, keeping the people updated and asking for their prayers. And they tell stories. Stories of this young man bringing joy and hope to people who had no hope. Stories of people hearing about Jesus from a person who had every reason to hide away from the world. The doctors and nurses who treated him were amazed by his joy. And the emails spread, from household to household, and people sent the link to his blog around the world. He was sharing quite a testimony with the world. As he left this world and received life in the presence of God, his peace in God’s presence remained a witness that God is faithful, even in the midst of great struggles.

They say that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. But it isn’t just the fact that someone has died that draws others to Christianity. It is the way that the martyrs died and the way that they dealt with troubles. Instead of being consumed by fear, or resisting death, the Christians stood strong. They refused to curse Christ and refused to sacrifice to Caesar as their Lord. And they stood calmly as the beasts were sent out, the executioners approached, the stones were picked up, or the fires were lit. They knew that their treasure was in heaven and that nothing that people could do could remove from them the presence of God.

It is also the way the church deals with troubles that sets Christians apart. The church’s willingness to risk their own lives to care for the sick in the 16^th century distinguished them from the people who were terrified of the plague. The Christian’s ability to display joy in the midst of terminal disease sets them apart from the people on the same hospital floors who spend their days in deep depression and hopelessness. We are “more than conquerors through Christ who loved us.”

Note that Paul is not saying here that life will be easy. Christian or not, we still live in a very fallen world. We still suffer great atrocities at the hands of other human beings. We still have murders on the streets and gangs in our cities, and we still have less visible attacks. Heads of companies may ask their employees to engage in unjust or unethical business practices to bring in the next dollar, and they may retaliate against employees who refuse. Neighbors may speak ill of you. Bullies (either the child or grown up version) may abuse you with their destructive words and threats of violence.

Then we have the reality of fallen nature. Earthquakes, floods, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, fires, and hailstorms. The flu, cancer, heart attacks, strokes, blindness, car accidents, and multiple sclerosis. No, this world is not easy, even if we never have to sacrifice our lives, our jobs, or our friends for our faith.

But Paul knows that as well. “What then shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave up for us all – how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? God who justifies? Who then can condemn? Christ Jesus who died – more than that who was raised to life? Who is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us? Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

Do you hear the absurdity of those questions? We are supposed to. We should be answering “Absolutely not!” and “No one!” to those questions. If God has chosen us, who else can be powerful enough to bring a charge against us? The God who justifies us? Absolutely not! If we are justified by God, who else can condemn us? Christ who died and was raised, and who actually intercedes for us at God’s right hand? No, no one can condemn us! What shall separate us from the love of Christ? Is anything strong enough to remove us from God’s love? Absolutely not!

Then why do we so often life as if we were defeated? Why do we so often live as though the devil, death, temptation, and other people have power over us? Not that I think things are always good. I know better. But then I read the stories of men like Stephen and Polycarp, and I get the emails from friends in ICU with a brain aneurysm, encephalitis, cancer, and car accident injuries, and I talk to people with multiple sclerosis, blindness, and lyme disease. And I wonder.

I don’t know if we’ve missed the truth the Paul writes, maybe we’ve never really been able to hear it before. Or maybe we’ve chosen to ignore it? Maybe we really like the pity party we’ve developed. Or maybe we’ve just not really known what this would look like in our context, in 2009 Los Angeles. Maybe we are afraid that we just aren’t really good enough for the promises that God gives us in this passage in Romans. Whatever the case, too often we have let other people and circumstances define who we are.

But we are not defined by our circumstances. You are a child of God, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ and BELOVED. God himself became human flesh and blood, suffering just like we suffer, and being tempted like we are tempted, and sacrificing himself as high priest so that our lives would be transformed. NO ONE can take that away from you. As much as bullies and bosses and unfriendly store clerks and anyone else can attempt to minimize you to make themselves feel strong and good, they still cannot remove your identity as a child of the Father. As many attacks as the devil throws your way, he cannot remove from you the presence of God in your midst. As many fires, floods, and diseases that come, they cannot change who you truly are. We are more than conquerors through the blood of Christ Jesus. That is our identity. Do you believe it? Will you live like that?

God loves YOU. He wants your good. He wants your life to overflow with joy. Too often we settle for less. We wonder who we are to be loved? But the truth is, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. This belief that we should not be loved and experience joy and goodness is a lie of our culture, not a message from God. In The Weight of Glory, CS Lewis writes, “Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not to strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling around with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

God is offering us infinite joy, regardless of our circumstances, through his constant presence in our lives. This is why the martyrs could stand praising God’s name as the fires burned at their feet, the animals came roaring into the arena, or the executioner approached with his sword. This is why the church can care for the sick regardless of risk to themselves, and why the sick Christians can sing praises and walk the halls bringing hope to the hopeless, even as they remain in the hospital for the last days of their lives. God is with them. They know who they are. They know that they are God’s children, infinitely loved.

They can say with Paul, “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

If you are beaten down, bruised, and battered the life and the world, hear this morning that you are a child of God. Take hold of your identity. God wants you to know that you are loved. Close your eyes for a moment. Whatever weights you are carrying, whatever keeps you from living in the fullness of life God offers, whatever hinders you from being a conqueror through Christ Jesus, turn them over to him. Then know that God is reaching his arms around you and holding you. God is telling you, “I love you.” Rest in that love. He may not change your circumstances, that is up to him to decide. But regardless, you will be changed in the midst of your circumstances if you live as the redeemed and chosen child of God that you are. Sometimes God calms the storms of our lives, and sometimes he calms his children in the midst of the storms.

Either way, when we rest in our identity as children of God, we too proclaim with Paul, “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Amen.

John 21:1-25 Finding Jesus in Places of Loss and Devastation

On Wednesday, as I sat downstairs reading John 21, a particular set of questions puzzled me and a particular set of verses struck me. I need to confess to you this morning that those questions and verses couldn’t be further from my mind. Several of my friends in Santa Barbara lost homes in the Tea Fire this week. Parts of my college, Westmont, a place I love deeply, literally burned to the ground. One of my fellow pastors lost his home in Sylmar. I am less worried about why there are exactly 153 fish in the net (I still have no idea by the way), and more worried about them. And I am reading the passage a little differently this morning.

The strange thing is that I probably should have been reading the passage more like this from the beginning. I just didn’t see it. As I read John 20 last Sunday, I was struck by the last two verses:

Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name

This seems like a conclusion. It seems like the book is over. This is about as real an ending as you can get.

But then we have chapter 21. It seems that the author can’t stop telling the story. He finished writing, but God didn’t finish working. God kept speaking and moving in his community, and he had to keep telling the story of Jesus. So the author keeps writing. It is true of us as well. God keeps changing lives and forcing us to open up to what he is doing. God keeps working, so we keep writing and telling the story, that old, old story in new times and places. So together we read the Scriptures and see God working in our world.

We live in a situation very similar to the situation of those disciples gathered in Galilee. Jesus has died, so he is no longer present in our midst. But Jesus is risen, so he walks among us, both seen and unseen, and the Holy Spirit is constantly our guide. Here on the seashore, Jesus reveals himself again to the disciples. Whether they are in Galilee to escape the danger present in Jerusalem, or because they don’t know what else to do, or because they are waiting for Jesus, Peter decides to go fishing. We know from the other gospels that Peter was a fisherman by trade. The disciples know what they are doing, and engage in a fairly mundane task. They don’t seem to expect Jesus to appear on the shore, but isn’t that just how Jesus likes to work? In surprising ways.

The disciples are gathered, knowing that Jesus has risen, but probably still a little lost as to what his resurrection means for them. They had left everything to follow Jesus, and now the disciples don’t have a teacher to follow throughout Palestine. They are a little aimless, but it is in their aimlessness that Jesus reveals himself to them.

And it is at the end of a long and disappointing night that Jesus chooses to reveal himself. The disciples have toiled all night to catch fish – a job they know well. And they have gained nothing. They are faced with failure and disappointment. But in this failure and disappointment Jesus reveals his presence and brings an abundant blessing of fish.

At daybreak, “Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, ‘Lads, haven’t you any fish?’ ‘No.’ They replied. He said, throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some. When they did, they were unable to haul in the net because of the large number of fish.”

I imaging that those disciples felt a little like the firefighters in Montecito, Sylmar, and Orange County. Disappointed. Dejected. They knew how to do their jobs, but in one night in Montecito they watched as they failed to keep over 200 homes from burning. In one night in Sylmar, they could not save a mobile home park of 500 residences. Failure. They are unable to do what they are trained to do. And the people are also disappointed and dejected, although I imagine that we relate more to the disciples’ feelings about Jesus’ death. He may have risen, but he doesn’t walk with them teaching throughout the countryside. His absence that night is real absence, just like the loss of homes, businesses, and colleges is real loss. There is joy – for the disciples the resurrection, for us – our lives and safety. The absence and loss are still real. But it is here that Jesus reveals himself and works a miracle.

The disciples get more than they bargained for when they drop that net. They have a net bursting with fish. And the Beloved Disciple gets it. He exclaims, “It is the Lord!” The Beloved Disciple has the eyes to see Jesus even through his loss, toil, and disappointment. He offers a testimony to what he sees, telling the others that Jesus is standing on the shore, and as a result, leading them to Jesus.

I’m learning now, in the midst of these fires and destruction, that there are still people who get it. People who see Jesus on the seashore. People like Russell and Allison Smelley, whose house burnt down only two years after their 15-year-old daughter died of a brain tumor. But they remind us that we “tread lightly in this world” for our citizenship is in heaven. Or the people like Jill Wolf, who told the local media that “they are only things” as she combed through the ashes of her house. Or the students who prayed together while they were locked inside the gym as the campus burned around them. We have been given people like the Beloved Disciple, people with eyes to see, people who get it. They see Jesus standing there, alive and present in the midst of burned neighborhoods, and they point Jesus out to the rest of us.

And it is here, in the midst of failure, loss, and disappointment that Jesus promises the disciples that he will reveal himself to others. This is a call story after all. Peter hauls in a net full of fish, is asked if he loves Jesus more than he loves fishing, and he gets told to care for God’s sheep instead of those fish. We can’t forget that Jesus has called Peter to be a fisher of people, and the catch is large. And Jesus promises that out of Peter’s struggles, failures, and disappointments, Jesus will still bring in a large catch of disciples for the Kingdom of God, in spite of Peter’s very failure to acknowledge Jesus in his most important hour, right before the crucifixion. Peter hears his restoration with his own ears, and he sees this large catch with his own eyes. That morning Jesus brought fish up to the boat, but the disciples had to follow his instructions to cast in their net and then work to bring the fish to Jesus on the shore. Jesus works through the disciples, and the disciples follow Jesus. And they see a huge blessing, a huge harvest coming out of a night of disappointment.

God has been teaching me to have the eyes of the Beloved Disciple, to see Jesus in our midst and to expect a harvest from our faithful response to his instructions in hard times. As Montecito burned, the news spread, and God’s people started praying. The news quickly traveled to area churches and to everyone connected with Westmont in any way. People started praying – for God’s mercy to save a college that transforms so many lives, to protect lives as people evacuated and battled the fire, to save homes, and for the hurricane strength winds to calm down. And you know what? God showed up for us too. While the firefighters did what they were trained to do, toiling through the night, people in Santa Barbara opened their homes to students and friends, reassuring them that though they had to literally run for their lives from the fire, they were not alone. As they battled the flames, God did calm the winds, from strong winds that should have blown for another two days, to calm conditions where lives and homes could be spared. And the same thing happened in Sylmar. People started praying, and God calmed the winds there as well. They had one day of high winds, when it should have been three. We see God standing here, perhaps in a place we wouldn’t have expected, in a place of loss and destruction.

And I am learning to expect a harvest coming out of this destruction as well. If God shows up and brings in a harvest for his Kingdom through the disciples, and then shows up in our own devastation, I am going to expect him to bring in a harvest for his Kingdom through his disciples now as well. And I am already starting to see the signs. Montecito residents have long been reluctant to accept, support, or encourage, the Christian Westmont College in their neighborhood. Westmont is seen as a threat to their way of life, their peace, and their comfort. But people have already begun to say that Montecito residents are glad for Westmont’s presence. The tensions are being lessened as the community sees what a difference it makes to have a community who prays and loves each other and loves the world right at their doorstep. As Westmont proclaims, “It is the Lord” who sustains them, who surrounds them, and who brings them through these struggles stronger and more secure in their faith, they are a witness to the surrounding neighborhood, and I am going to follow the story of the disciples, expecting that testimony to bear fruit, both in Montecito, and through the churches in Sylmar and Orange County.

So if I am following the story of the disciples, what should I expect next? In John 21, the disciples gather with Jesus for a Eucharistic meal. They eat a meal communally…the last of three communion stories in John’s Gospel. But this isn’t the communion meal that we take on Sundays in our churches, enclosed from the community around us by walls. This communion meal is out in the open, surrounded by outsiders, and it includes an expectation that the disciples will serve those outside, drawing in that huge catch of fish. It is the communion meal of a church that is continually going outside its own walls because they realize that Jesus can not be kept inside those walls. They have seen Jesus walk right through the walls to meet them inside, and now they have seen Jesus leave those walls behind to meet them on the Sea of Galilee. Jesus is already out in the community, and just as he drew the fish to the boat, he draws people to himself so that Peter (and the other disciples too) can feed his sheep.

And I do see us following the story of the disciples here too. We are to take the communion meal out into the world, surrounded by people who are not normally part of our community, and we are expected to serve out in the open. We are seeing, again, that Jesus can’t be kept locked inside walls, either the literal walls of our churches and homes, or the invisible walls of our communities and hearts. Jesus is going out into the neighborhoods, calling people to himself, and waiting for us to proclaim that “It is the Lord.” He is waiting for us now, in the middle of these fires, to go out into communities that are devastated, serving them in whatever way is needed, by giving money, helping provide shelter and the basic belongings of a new life, and loving and praying for them as they grieve. And he is waiting for us to continue to go out into the cities long after these fires have passed, still loving those who are broken, and still inviting others to see that it is Jesus who gives us life and breath and every good gift. And still proclaiming that “It is the Lord” in their midst, whether they have the eyes to see or not.

God is still at work, even in places we might not expect, revealing himself to the world in the midst of these fires, reminding us that he works good even in the worst of circumstances, calling us to recognize that “It is the Lord!” in our midst, and leading us out into the middle of broken communities to proclaim his name and serve those Jesus calls to follow him. Let us take communion here this morning, as a community that proclaims his name, and then take his communion and his love out into all the world, loving those Jesus already loves. Amen.

John 19:1-16 Christ is Beaten and Broken

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Silence. I was worried that it might be awkward. But how else do you respond to a Scripture that begins with Jesus being scourged?

“Then Pilate took Jesus and had him scourged. And the soldiers, having made a crown out of thorns, put it on his head, and they threw a purple robe around him. And they came to him and said, ‘Hail, King of the Judeans!’”

Reading a Scripture like today’s is troubling. These aren’t the backgrounds to this morning’s songs. They aren't the images of the Psalms – trees planted by streams, green pastures, and banquet tables. They aren’t even the images of Job – storehouses of hail and roaring lions. These images are real, and brutal. Pilate turns Jesus over to be scourged. When the Jews whipped someone as punishment, they were restricted to 39 lashings. They gave 40 lashes minus 1 because 40 lashes could kill a person. But these are not Jewish officials whipping Jesus. These are Roman soldiers who are scourging him. The Romans had braided cords into a whip and embedded pieces of metal inside of it. These whips were designed to tear the skin off of your back. And this is scourging. This is what the soldiers inflicted upon Jesus.

And the soldiers, mocking Jesus, made a wreath out of thorns and put it on Jesus’ head. Then they took a purple garment and threw it over his shoulders. Purple, the color of royalty. And the soldiers threw it over the shoulders of an exhausted bloody man. Then they mocked him. As the soldiers hit Jesus; they mocked, “Hail, King of the Judeans!

For a visual person like myself, these pictures are excruciating. I see a broken man, being whipped mercilessly, his back torn apart by shards of metal, clinging to life. (Picture 1 – Pacher - Flagellation) And I see the blood dripping down his face as the thorns puncture his brow. (Picture 2 – Holbein Younger - Passion) And I see him fall as he receives blow after blow from the soldier’s fists. He is a pitiful, broken, powerless man. (Picture 3 – Passion – Crown Thorns))

My reaction, more than anything else, is STOP! Stop beating this man. Can’t you see that he isn’t a threat to you any longer? ||

I do understand the soldiers’ reactions. I know that the scourgings and crucifixions weren’t designed to be painful (although they were) as much as they were designed to shame you. The soldiers’ mocking words provide us with a clue about why Jesus was before the Roman authorities to begin with. Jesus was dangerous because he was introducing sedition, rebellion, into the Roman Empire. When the people view someone as their king, they stop listening to the emperor. The Romans can’t have Jesus inciting a rebellion. So the soldiers actions make sense. When they have power over a person who is viewed as a king, they teach him a lesson. They give him a crown and a king’s robe, and they proclaim him king as they beat him to show him how powerless he is. | I understand why the soldiers act the way they do. But I still want it to stop. And I wonder if they realize how ridiculous it is to keep beating a broken man.

But we are only three verses into this passage.

“And Pilate came out again, and he said to them, ‘Behold, I bring him out to you, in order that you might know that I have found no crime in him.’ Then Jesus came out, wearing the thorny crown and the purple robe. And he said to them, ‘Behold the man.’”

It isn’t enough that Jesus was beaten and mocked by the soldiers. Now he is paraded before the crowds. While I wouldn’t put it past a man of Pilate’s reputation to have an innocent man scourged because he felt like it, I doubt he would have taken all of this time if he truly believed Jesus was innocent. He’s parading Jesus before the Judeans, before the people who are supposed to be his followers, proving to them that Jesus is not their king, but is really a pitiful, powerless man. (Picture 4 – Durer Ecco Homo) And we know that Pilate believes that the Judeans see Jesus as a king because he tells us so. Pilate brings Jesus out before the crowd again and says, “Behold your king.” He even asks, “Shall I crucify your king?”

What becomes abundantly apparent throughout this dialogue is that Pilate and the high priests are speaking the truth without even knowing it. Jesus really is the King.

So Pilate has brought Jesus out and paraded him before the Judeans. And “When the high priests and attendants saw him, they shouted, saying, ‘Crucify! Crucify!’ Pilate said to them, ‘you take him and crucify him, for I have found no charge in him.’ The Judeans answered him, ‘We have a law, and according to the law he should die, because he made himself a Son of God.’”

I suppose that I understand the high priests’ response too, although I never quite get how they can care so much about details of the law without caring about the people or the major points of the law. There IS a law against blasphemy after all. We are not supposed to use the Lord’s name in vain or make anything or anyone, ourselves included, into gods. So the high priests think that they are doing right. They are condemning Jesus for setting himself up to be God. The problem is, they never stop to ask whether Jesus might actually be God. It wouldn’t be the first time God had done something unusual. Jesus’ trial is even happening on the day of preparation of the Passover. Talk about one of God’s surprising events. Frogs, flies, water turning into blood, escaping through the Sea of Reeds, and destroying an enemy army. God certainly surprises. But the high priests don’t ask if Jesus really is God. Instead they fulfill the law by demanding his crucifixion.

Ironically, they kill an innocent man, in violation of the command against murder, and they neglect the preparation of the Passover, which they have been commanded to keep each year. And they do it all because of the same Torah. Not realizing that they speak truth. Jesus really is the Son of God.

When Pilate hears the high priests’ charge, he is afraid. “When Pilate heard this word, he was greatly afraid. And he came again into the praetorium [(or governor’s house)], and he said to Jesus, ‘From where do you come?’ but Jesus did not give answer to him. Therefore Pilate said to him, ‘Do you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have the power to release you and the power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You do not have any power over me except what was given to you from above. Because of this, the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.’”

Pilate is afraid that he might be trying a son of the gods. Not an unreasonable fear for an educated Roman man who knows the stories of the Roman gods and goddesses and how they walk among humans in human form. He wants to be absolutely sure that he is not crucifying one of the gods, so he asks Jesus directly, “From where do you come?” It is here that Jesus becomes mute. This is his chance to vindicate himself, to proclaim the truth that he is Immanuel, God with us. But Jesus is silent, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah 53 (7). “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth. He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”

Jesus does not need to answer Pilate’s question because he knows that God is the one in control. All power is God’s. Our power comes only as God gives it to us. We may use it for good or for evil, to serve God or to serve ourselves, but power is bestowed by God. Jesus does not need to answer Pilate because he knows that ultimately Pilate is not in control. God is. And Jesus serves his Father.

Still, one of my friends says that Jesus’ silence used to make her mad. Why wouldn’t he talk? Jesus does not answer from where he comes. In fact, he never does. The question has shown up from the beginning, in chapter 1, when John the Baptist and the disciples are first meeting Jesus. But Jesus doesn’t answer it there either. It seems that his life is the witness of his origins, and God must reveal the meaning of these signs to us.

But there in chapter 1 also, Jesus is called the lamb of God, like in Isaiah 53. And John is careful to tell us that it is noon on the preparation of the Passover. The Preparation of the Passover is to rid the house of yeast, make unleavened bread, and slaughter the lambs. Slaughter the lambs, one for each family or couple of families, perfect and without blemish of any kind. Slaughter the lambs, in remembrance of that first Passover, when the blood of those lambs, spread on the doorframes of the houses caused death to pass over those households. Jesus is sacrificed as the Passover Lamb.

That is pretty amazing. The plague of the firstborn is what allowed the Israelites to leave captivity in Egypt, and the slaughter of the lambs is what allowed death to pass over the Israelite households. And here in John we have a new Passover. The Lamb of God is slaughtered, and his blood covers the lives of God’s people, a signal that death has no power here and should pass over, and allowing us to escape our captivity to sin and death.

It is an amazing story. The King is mocked, scourged, and beaten by his subjects, those he could destroy if he so desired. The Son of God is handed over by the very priests who should know him. The Lamb of God is slaughtered by the captives to save those who are in captivity. It is a painful story, and yet it is good news. We traditionally remember the crucifixion on GOOD Friday. We proclaim that this story of death is GOOD news. And it is good news. It is the revealing of the King of Israel. It is the story of Immanuel, God with us. It is the release of the captives, and our escape from death and bondage. Good news. The most painful, heart-wrenching good news ever told. Take a moment to reflect on this good news, and on our King, Immanuel, Lamb of God. Amen.

(Play How Deep the Father’s Love for Us)

The Broken Women Among Us

Yesterday, the senior pastor and I went out to the Westside Pregnancy Resource Center in Santa Monica. Talitha Phillips, the Executive Director, gave us a tour of the facilities and then the three of us sat down to hear about the work the center does. This is an amazing organization. Not only do they do pregnancy care, crisis counseling, abortion alternatives counseling, single mother support groups, and ultrasounds, but they also provide supplies for new moms, help them find jobs and housing, work with pregnant women to tell their parents or boyfriends/husbands, and do abstinence/healthy dating instruction for youth groups and schools. As Talitha recounted stories of the women who come back to the center, broken and distraught after having an abortion, I was broken again for these women.

One of the most common groups of people who come in after having an abortion are Christians. "It is easier to come to the church with an abortion that to come to the church with an unplanned pregnancy." Talitha said that this quote epitomizes so much of the work they do. What is wrong with our churches that we tell our women that God will forgive them whatever they decide? God will, but why are we sending our women into pain, regret, and emotional turmoil? These women are so broken, and we send them from one sin straight into another, from one mistake into another. At what point do we truly partner with the organizations like Westside? When do we stop to spend time with them? To learn from them how we can love and support the women in our midst who are dealing with the turmoil of an unplanned pregnancy or the heartbreak of a past abortion? When will we start providing the resources and assistance that these women need so that abortion doesn't become their only option?

Then there are so many stories on the other side. Time and time again I hear the pain and anguish of the couples in my churches who have tried and tried to have children. These couples have been told that they are not able to have children, or they have grieved miscarriage after miscarriage. They are broken by their pain, and we are too often insensitive. I think about groups like MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers). They gather to give support to other moms in their situations, which is exactly what we should do: share wisdom and encouragement. Then these women plan events like women's dinners or trips to special stores, and they exclude women who do not have children. So my sisters who have lost baby after baby are excluded from fellowship in the church because they have not been blessed with children of their own. They serve as Sunday School teachers or youth group leaders, working with the children of these other women, but they are not able to share fellowship with the women themselves. I think about the Father's Day sermon I sat through on Sunday, where we celebrated the men in the congregation who are fathers and prayed for a young boy in the congregation who's father died. Again, these were good things to do, but I wondered about the men sitting next to me that are unable to have children of their own. These men and women tell me that they really do rejoice with their brothers and sisters who have children. They pray for them, and they help raise the children up in the faith, just like they committed to do when the children were baptized/dedicated. We support our families, but when will we start supporting the other brothers and sisters in our congregations? When will we surround them with prayer and love, and welcome them into our lives without excluding them because of their own pain? When will we hear the pain of these couples among us?

Sin that Marks Our Bodies

Earlier this year, I sat down for lunch with Amey, an African-American first-year student. The goal was to hear each others' stories and to know the pain of growing up as a Black child in the South. In the process of that conversation, I mentioned that a faculty member had marginalized me in a lecture, unintentionally, and broken me once again. Amey's gift to me was her recognition that I was hurt, even though the professor did not mean to hurt me. She refused to differentiate between the pain and oppression she experienced growing up in the South and the pain and oppression I was experiencing as a Divinity student. Even now as I think back on that conversation, I am so blessed by Amey's ability to look beyond the Black-White characterization of the South. Her recognition was that oppression, marginalization, and racism are always wrong.
The problem I am trying to articulate is not that I am oppressed more than others, the problem is that oppression exists in our churches in any form. We are made in the image and likeness of God, all of us, no matter our skin color, social status, economic class, or city of origin. We reveal God to our brothers and sisters as they reveal God to us. Since we are created in God's image, we, all of us, are icons, windows through which we see God. When one person is oppressed by another, when one person is ignored, then we are guilty. We are like the teachers who were guilty because they claimed to see. We do not love our brothers and sisters when we marginalize one of them, and as John tells us, if we do not love our neighbors, we do not love God. We are not competing over oppression at the Divinity School. We are trying to faithfully tell our brothers and sisters that their inability to see us is a refusal to view us as icons of our Lord and as humans redeemed by God.
Last week I wrote that "our bodies bear the scars of the attacks against us." Our bodies are marked. We are one church, and the oppression of one of us marks all of our bodies with the scars. It is not okay to recognize the racism perpetuated against one group without recognizing the racism perpetrated against other groups. It is not okay to discuss the social construction of one race without discussing the social construction of the others. Even as we repent of slavery, segregation, and Jim Crow laws, too often we either allow or perpetrate the oppression and marginalization of others. We, the church, the redeemed of God, still perpetuate the sins of racism.
Almighty God, our creator, redeemer, and sustainer, open our eyes to our sins of not seeing your face in the brothers and sisters around us. Help us bring healing instead of pain to the broken and ignored in our midst.

Ps 71:1-8, Jer 1:4-10

Psalm 71

1 In you, LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame.

2 In your righteousness, rescue me and deliver me;
turn your ear to me and save me.

3 Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me,
for you are my rock and my fortress.

4 Deliver me, my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of those who are evil and cruel.

5 For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD,
my confidence since my youth.

6 From birth I have relied on you;
you brought me forth from my mother's womb.
I will ever praise you.

7 I have become like a portent to many,
but you are my strong refuge.

8 My mouth is filled with your praise,
declaring your splendor all day long.

Jeremiah 1:4-10

The Call of Jeremiah

4 The word of the LORD came to me, saying,

5 "Before I formed you in the womb I knew ^[a] you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations."

6 "Ah, Sovereign LORD," I said, "I do not know how to speak; I am too young."

7 But the LORD said to me, "Do not say, 'I am too young.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. 8 Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you," declares the LORD.

9 Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, "I have put my words in your mouth. 10 See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant."

At the beginning of every semester, my college pastor used to stand up in chapel and have us get our bearings. He would say, “We’re in Murchison Gym, Westmont College, Montecito, California, United States of America, Western hemisphere, planet Earth, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Universe, Mind of God.” This morning I want us to situate ourselves according to another set of bearings. Where are we? We are in Glencoe United Methodist Church, in the line of John Wesley, the Church of England, the church catholic, and the first disciples. We are followers of Christ Jesus and the LORD, | the God of Israel, of Adam and Eve, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Job and Nehemiah, and of the psalmists and the prophet Jeremiah. That’s where we are. We are part of a community who knows the true God and worships him and declares his glory in our whole lives.

The writer of Psalm 71 is like us, a part of the community of God who has seen God’s faithfulness and been taught the ways that God has acted in history. That is why he, the writer is probably male, that is why he can write a lament psalm which complains about his problem, rests in God’s promises, and praises God even in his oppression. He knows the LORD to be a God of surprises and miracles. He serves the God who gave Abraham and Sarah a child when Sarah was ninety years old, the God who heard the cries of his people in Egypt and raised up Moses to deliver them from pharaoh, and the God who gave Israel king David and promised that he would always be with his people.

The psalmist knows that god is with him, so he declares his reliance on the LORD, using a series of metaphors which show God’s protection. God is our refuge, our rock, and our fortress, and I can’t help but picture the psalmist’s words. The temple was the refuge for Israel, the place where they could seek safety from those who were attacking them. However, in my mind I picture the storm cellar in the Wizard of Oz. As the tornado approached, the family ran around the yard gathering the things they needed, and they rushed to lift the door to the storm cellar, climb in, and get the door shut tight where they would be protected from the winds that could carry them away. Of course, the storm still struck, but they where sheltered underground. In verse 1, God is our refuge; though the storm may strike, we are given refuge in the presence of Christ.

What about the rock in verse 3? I come from the West Coast where earthquakes are normal. In the early ‘90’s, a massive earthquake occurred in Northridge, near Los Angeles. It turned out that doorways and hallways were not the only place you wanted to be when the earth started moving. After the quake, we learned that part of a nearby town was built on bedrock, and part of it was built on fill. When the ground shook, the buildings that were built on the rock stood firm while the buildings built on fill became split-level houses. Whole neighborhoods had to be condemned. For some reason, we like to put our hope in the fill, in things that will crumble. We grasp for money which collapses with one stock market crash. We build an increasingly powerful military which still cannot protect us from attacks like Pearl Harbor or September 11^th. We put trust in the government which cannot rescue us from joblessness, loneliness, and the increasing cost of health care. Fortunately for us, God is a rock, not fill; when the ground beneath us begins to shake, we can stay standing on the rock that does not crumble.

It is this constant security that the psalmist has found in God which has allowed him to put his hope and trust in the LORD. In verse 5, he writes, “For you have been my hope, Sovereign LORD, my confidence since my youth. From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother’s womb.” It is only through the LORD that we exist at all; unless the LORD gives us life and breath, we will not survive today. He has given us the gift of life and then walked with us since our birth. Have you thanked God for your life lately? | Where else can you see God’s hand in your life? |

Has he given you people to encourage you when you thought that your life would never get better? Did he place you in a Christian family where you were raised in the church or give you a friend who told you about God’s love for the first time? What gifts has he given you to help others along the Christian journey? In what ways has God formed you as his unique child? |

Jeremiah was formed to be a prophet to the nations; he was put together with specific gifts which God would use to speak to the world. He was made bold to speak against the kings of Israel. He was given life to serve God as a prophet, as a person who would follow God even when everyone else around him turned away. He was called to live a life of obedience, and most of all to speak for God to Israel. He was told to preach, to tell God’s story.

Jeremiah was not excited about God’s call. He reacted with an excuse. Jeremiah said, “I do not know how to speak, I am too young.” He sounds like Moses who insisted so strongly that he could not speak for God, so God ended up giving him Aaron to speak on his behalf. He sounds like us. “I am too young to have anything worthwhile to say. I’m too busy to help my neighbor change her flat tire. I’m too poor to have anyone listen to me. I’m too old to speak to these younger generations.” We make excuses when God calls. What are your excuses? |

Consider today how God is calling you. It is up to the church to tell the story of Jesus who died on the cross and rose again to save the world from sin, who loves each of the children he has made, and who is the rock we can stand on when our lives start to shake. If we do not go, who will God raise up to go in our place? We are all called to be like Jeremiah, sharing God’s good news with the nations and calling all people to serve God. We are all called to serve our neighbors and to love our neighbors just as Christ served and loved us. Perhaps this is why our passage from Psalm 71 ends the same way Jeremiah ends: with the proclamation of God’s word.

The psalmist ends this section saying, “I will ever praise you. I have become like a portent to many, but you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, declaring your splendor all day long.” Our lives should be a ceaseless expression of our praise. If we have taken time to consider the work of God in our lives and in the beauty of the surrounding creation, we can offer up praise to our LORD who is worthy of our love and service.

But praising God all day long does not have to mean that we stand on the street corner declaring the judgment and wrath of God. It means letting our lives and words glorify Jesus in all of our actions. We praise God at our jobs by doing our best work with the gifts God has given us, by being honest in all of our dealings, in avoiding the latest office gossip. We praise God in our homes by loving our spouses as Christ loves us, by viewing our children as gifts from God, by avoiding unneeded extravagances, and by opening our homes to those around us. We praise God with our time by limiting our commitments, so we have time to hear God, by spending our time serving others, and by making time for unexpected opportunities to help those in need.

And when we live our lives to the glory of God, we are more able to hear how God wants us to declare his splendor. We are ready to hear his voice asking us to work in Mississippi or teach a Sunday school class. We are waiting for him to tell us to start a ministry to children in the neighborhoods around the church or to use our gifts and expertise serving on a church committee. Consider how God is calling you to preach his word, to declare his splendor to the world, and know that you are not alone. Remember where we are. | We are in Glencoe United Methodist Church, in the line of John Wesley, the Church of England, the church catholic, and the first disciples. We are followers of Christ Jesus and the LORD, | the God of Israel, of Adam and Eve, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Job and Nehemiah, and of the psalmists and the prophet Jeremiah. We are part of a community who knows the true God and worships him and declares his glory in our whole lives.

Praise be to God. Amen.

Job 23 Finding God in Suffering

Church is described as the people of God, body of Christ and temple of the Job

1 Then Job replied:

2 "Even today my complaint is bitter;
his hand ^[a] is heavy in spite of ^[b] my groaning.

3 If only I knew where to find him;
if only I could go to his dwelling!

4 I would state my case before him
and fill my mouth with arguments.

5 I would find out what he would answer me,
and consider what he would say to me.

6 Would he vigorously oppose me?
No, he would not press charges against me.

7 There the upright can establish their innocence before him,
and there I would be delivered forever from my judge.

8 "But if I go to the east, he is not there;
if I go to the west, I do not find him.

9 When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;
when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.

10 But he knows the way that I take;
when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

11 My feet have closely followed his steps;
I have kept to his way without turning aside.

12 I have not departed from the commands of his lips;
I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.

13 "But he stands alone, and who can oppose him?
He does whatever he pleases.

14 He carries out his decree against me,
and many such plans he still has in store.

15 That is why I am terrified before him;
when I think of all this, I fear him.

16 God has made my heart faint;
the Almighty has terrified me.

17 Yet I am not silenced by the darkness,

by the thick darkness that covers my face.

Footnotes:

1. Job 23:2 Septuagint and Syriac; Hebrew / the hand on me
2. Job 23:2 Or heavy on me in

It seems that everywhere we look these days, there is another tragedy, another sorrow confronting us. Some are big. The war in Afghanistan. The genocide in Rwanda. The riots in Mexico. In some strange way, these big sorrows are easier to deal with. We pronounce judgment, but out lives are not shattered. | There is another kind of sorrow that is closer to home. A family member commits suicide. The police officer who normally sits next to you in the pew is killed in the like of duty. A car accident leaves a vibrant pastor paralyzed. This is where our scripture lesson this morning finds me, and it seems that it is also where Job confronts you. Your friends and family members are battling serious illnesses, and we are left to wonder why and even more, to find our way through the maze.

I must confess to you this morning that these hard times have left me confused many times over the past year, and there have been no easy answers. In August 2005, a good friend of mine named Alyssa was found unresponsive in her bed. She was 14, a student in my youth group, and both a friend, and a daughter of friends. I would like to share her story with you today. The day after her first seizure, I boarded a plane and flew to North Carolina for the first time. I spent the next several days on the phone and on my knees as Alyssa laid in a drug-induced coma in ICU while doctors ran tests and attempted to stabilize her condition, and eventually diagnosed her with an inoperable brain tumor. | And I wrestled with God while Alyssa became my personal Job.

In Job 1 we learn that Job is a blameless and upright man who serves God, even offering sacrifices for his children’s sins. Job’s life is going well; he is wealthy, a respected man in his community, and he has been blessed with 7 sons and 3 daughters. Suddenly we are transported into the heavenly realm. The adversary challenges God. ^1:8 “Then the Lord said to the adversary, ‘Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is possessing of integrity and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.’” ^1:9 “Does Job fear God for nothing?” the adversary replied. ^1:11 “But stretch out your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse you to your face.” So the adversary gains permission, and Job’s flocks are carried off and his children are killed in a storm. Then Job himself is afflicted, and his body is racked with pain and illness. And Job tears his robe in lament and falls to the ground, and he sits in the ashes, publicly lamenting his loss and pain. And Job’s wife says, ^2:10 “Are you still remaining in your integrity? Curse God and die!”

From the very beginning, Job certainly teaches us that life can be difficult, painful, and full of temptation, even, or perhaps especially for God’s faithful servants. Life is not always sunshine and roses, in spite of popular books and preachers. Job has lived well his whole life long. He has worshipped the Lord Almighty, and he isn’t even an Israelite. The Bible tells us that he comes from the lands of the pagan Gentiles. And it is Job’s very faithfulness that brings the attacks and sufferings from the adversary. Job is in good company. Jeremiah was the only true prophet left in Israel, and he had to announce the coming defeat and exile of God’s people. He was despised and rejected, and in the end he was taken captive with the rest of unfaithful Israel. Jesus spent three years teaching his disciples and caring for the people. He was faithful in every way that Israel had not been. Yet when it mattered, he too was despised and rejected. His disciples slept while he prayed in anguish and then they fled and denied him, and he was stripped and beaten and hung on a cross for the world to see his failure. Stephen stood before his people to share the good news of Christ’s saving power, and they rose up against him and stoned him while he prayed for God’s forgiveness for those throwing stones.

Unfortunately, we cannot push this pain into the past because it confronts our own lives. Part of our struggle is that good people perish, and Alyssa was no exception. She was faithful, listening to God and serving him constantly. She was preparing to serve on the worship team to help people draw closer to her Lord. She was full of the life and joy of the Holy Spirit. That joy and life never left through her seizures, medical procedures, and chemotherapy and radiation to battle her brain tumor, but they also did not free her from suffering. Over the course of a year, Alyssa lost much of her sight, her short-term memory, her physical agility, and her normal life. But Alyssa paralleled Job in another way: She never let go of God. She prayed, and she worshipped. She came to church, and trusted Jesus, and loved deeply.

It is in part this continual clinging to God that sets Job apart, and that helps us wrestle with our response to suffering. Repeatedly, we are told that Job is a man possessing of integrity, and the temptation offered by his wife is to relinquish that integrity, to let go of God. Job reminds us of another man who refused go let go of God. Jacob wrestled with God all night, and in the end, he becomes the patriarch Israel, the father of a nation. Fortunately for us, Job also resists this temptation to turn away, and we see him wrestle with God for 36 agonizing chapters.

And so we end up in chapter 23, just one of Job’s responses to his friends’ accusations. Job’s complaint is bitter. His three friends surround him on every side, preaching the conventional wisdom that suffering is a punishment for sin. Like the man born blind in John 9 the pain becomes his fault. But Job does not have Jesus to announce that Job has not sinned, so he seeks his vindication from God.

^23:2 “Even today my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy in spite of my groaning. ³ If only I knew where to find him; if only I could go to his dwelling! ⁴ I would state my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments. ⁵ I would find out what he would answer me, and consider what he would say to me.”

Job certainly does not fear speaking the truth. He knows that he does not deserve suffering; he knows that he has been faithful, and he is seeking God to tell him so. After all Job knows God’s promises.

^23:6 “Would he vigorously oppose me? No he would not press charges against me. ⁷ There the upright can establish their innocence before him, and there I would be delivered from my judge.”

God will not continue to oppress him when he is judged according to his activities. The Biblical story until now confirms Job’s view. Abraham was given a son, Lot was rescued from the midst of wicked people, Israel was brought out of suffering in Egypt, and they were brought into the land flowing with milk and honey. Perhaps Job has neglected Genesis and the entry of sin and death into the fallen world where the innocent suffer alongside the wicked.

Regardless, Job feels abandoned, but he never stops seeking God’s face.

⁸ But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him. ⁹ When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him ¹⁰ But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold. ¹¹ My feet have closely followed his steps; I have kept to his way without turning aside. ¹² I have not departed from the commands of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.”

Even in the midst of his suffering, Job can continue to affirm his passion for God and declare his own faithfulness, but he cannot find God. Job sounds like Jesus on the cross crying the words of Psalm 22. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” “My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.”

It seems that the suffering is only to continue. Job must endure seven more chapters of his friends’ accusations. The Psalmist will continue his lament for another 28 verses, and Jesus will die hanging on that cross. Our suffering endures in this world as well. Those of us around Alyssa watched helpless as she continued to grow weaker this summer. Her parents had to explain to her, again and again, that she had a brain tumor and would not survive. Eventually she recognized almost no one. The passionate athlete and musician slowly became confined to her bed. And those of us around Alyssa suffered as well. We had questions for God, and we were beginning to grieve. It was Alyssa who reminded us that suffering and death is not the end of the story.

God came to Job in the whirlwind, finally answering Job’s pleas to confront God. The scene was not the one Job had expected; God was questioning him not the other way around. Job was confronted with the majesty of God’s creation, and he learned that the dangerous things which God has created are beautiful because they are created. The death and destruction they cause are not beautiful, but the rain, the hail, the lightening, the lion are all beautiful because God has created them that way. There is a beauty in the unpredictability of God’s creation because there is also an unpredictability in God. It includes his decision to become incarnate in the form of a baby, and it includes the innocent suffering of God on the cross.

Job is confronted with the beauty and goodness of God, but he never receives the answers to his questions about suffering; he is never told what we knew from the beginning: his suffering came because of his faithfulness not because he lacked it. Still, Job was redeemed. He received the answer of God’s presence, and his questions somehow melted away when he was face-to-face with God. Remember the adversary’s challenge to God? That Job would curse him to his face? Here too, Job resists the temptation.

^42:11 “Then Job replied to the Lord: ² I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ³ You asked ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. ⁴ You said, ‘Listen now and I will speak; I will question you and you shall answer me.’ ⁵ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. ⁶ Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.”

Likewise, Jesus’ cry from the cross is incomplete without the story of the resurrection. God had not abandoned Job, and he had not abandoned Jesus either. The Father and the Spirit raised the Son on the third day, defeating once and for all death and the Ruler of this world. So we cling to God even in our pain, and we seek his face while we pray for Christ’s return and the New Jerusalem to come in its fullness.

^{Rev 21} “And I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with humans, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Creation will be restored to perfect relationship with God, and we will worship before the throne.

And how does Alyssa’s story end? In joy and sorrow, grief and hope. On July 4, 2006, one month after her 15^th birthday, Alyssa’s body succumbed to her 11 month long battle with cancer. With her friends and family by her side, she was sung across the Jordan to meet her Lord face-to-face, just as she had sought him all along. And we who love her are left behind to grieve. There is an emptiness in our hearts that will only be filled when we join Alyssa in the presence of our Lord. We are spending all of our time with God crying out in desperation and we are doing the next thing, “simply because it is next.”

But I mentioned joy and hope. Through her whole life, Alyssa taught us to laugh, to live life with joyful freedom, and we continue to do so. Throughout her illness, Alyssa listened to a song called For the Moments I Feel Faint by Relient K. One of Alyssa’s closest friends wrote, “I was just thinking, that maybe this song is her and God’s gift to us…a reminder of God’s love and grace. It’s like her reminder to us to never underestimate her Jesus…our Jesus…the Jesus she is dancing with at this moment.” It goes like this:

Am I at the point of no improvement?
What of the death I still dwell in?
I try to excel, but I feel no movement.
Can I be free of this unreleasable sin?

I throw up my hands
"Oh, the impossibilities"
Frustrated and tired
Where do I go from here?
Now I'm searching for the confidence I've lost so willingly
Overcoming these obstacles is overcoming my fear

Never underestimate my Jesus.
You're telling me that there's no hope.
I'm telling you you’re wrong.
Never underestimate my Jesus
When the world around you crumbles
He will be strong

I think I can't, I think I can't
But I think you can, I think you can
Gather my insufficiencies and
place them in your hands, place them in your hands, place them in your hands

Never underestimate my Jesus.
You're telling me that there's no hope.
I'm telling you you’re wrong.
Never underestimate my Jesus
When the world around you crumbles
He will be strong, He will be strong

Jesus is strong, even in our weakness and suffering. Our hope, even in that suffering, is in our Lord Jesus Christ and his coming kingdom. Maranatha! Lord Come Quickly! Amen.