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)

Romans 6:1-23 The Freedom of God

It is at times like these, around America’s patriotic holidays, that I need a reminder of what it means to be a member of the church. Ray Boltz, a Christian musician, has a song that provides just such a reminder. In the chorus, he boldly proclaims:

“I pledge allegiance to the lamb, with all my strength, with all I am. I will seek to honor his commands. I pledge allegiance to the lamb.”

This is not the pledge our children recite in schools, nor is it the proclamation we heard at Independence Day celebrations this weekend. But it should be our proclamation as members of the body of Christ.

Now I do not think that we should hate America, or even that we should necessarily disobey its rules. A little later in the letter to the Romans, Paul will tell the churches to obey their earthly authorities because they also have been appointed by God. But our obedience and allegiance is first and foremost to Christ.

In the first years after the crucifixion, Christians started to be persecuted, first by zealous Jews like Paul, and then by Roman authorities who viewed Christianity as sedition, a horrible crime in their eyes. The Romans were actually correct. Jesus is politically threatening. He calls people to follow him above family, friends, job, and country. The people who follow Jesus are ruled by his blood and their obedience to him, before, and at times instead of, obedience to government officials. So the Romans were actually correct when they realized that the Christians would not give their ultimate allegiance to Rome.

In our Christian history, we have the stories of the martyrs – those Christians who stood by their proclamation of faith in God even when it cost them their lives. There are people like the Bishop Polycarp, who faithfully strengthened his churches when he was being led to his death. Even when he was given multiple chances to deny being a Christian, Polycarp always stood strong until he was finally led into the arena to be killed by wild animals. Polycarp had one choice to make to save his life from the Romans by denying Christ, or to follow Jesus in obedience even to his death.

Justin Martyr was an apologist who tried to convince the Romans to stop condemning Christians for their faith. He explained that Christians were good Roman citizens who followed the laws, cared for the sick, and paid taxes. The one thing that Christians would not do, according to Justin, was offer sacrifices to or worship any god or person besides the God of Jesus Christ. As his name suggests, Justin too was martyred by the Romans.

For all of these martyrs, from the 1^st century until today, obedience to Jesus was the goal of their lives. They had tasted the kingdom of God and were pursuing it no matter what the cost. By the time Paul wrote Romans, he had also known suffering and imprisonment, yet he gives a broader perspective reminding us of the work Christ has done and why we seek to live in holiness and obedience.

In America, we like to think of ourselves as free, and as those who offer freedom to people who are oppressed. Modern society has trained us well to make our own decisions and rely only on ourselves. We think we are free.

But when we have experienced the salvation of God, we learn that we were not really free. In Rom 7, Paul tells us that we were controlled by our sinful natures. Look at verse 14:

¹⁴We know that the law is spiritual, but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. ¹⁵ I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. ¹⁶ And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. ¹⁷ as it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. ¹⁸ I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing. ²⁰ Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

This is who we were. Instead of being free as we thought, we were in bondage and captivity to the powers of sin and death. Paul has many choice phrases for our condition. We were: ruled by sin, mastered by death, obeying evil desires, aroused by sinful passions, and doing what is evil. We are not free. We are in slavery to evil, sin, and death, and we need a redeemer.

Although we were once in slavery to sin and death, we have been set free by the blood of Jesus, and he, the only God, became human and walked the earth among us. He has lived a faithful life where we have fallen short, and then he has been crucified and resurrected on the third day. And we participate in the redemption of Jesus. Look back at chapter 6 verse 3.

“Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? ⁴ we were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. ⁵ If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be untied with him in a resurrection like his. ⁶ For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin – ⁷ because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.

Jesus’ death and resurrection are not abstract ideas which seem good. His death and resurrection are not even historical events which happened to Jesus and which we remember. We actually participate in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. As we are baptized, the water symbolizes our death to the old life and our rising to new life in Christ. The Holy Spirit draws us into the life of Christ and into the holiness and faithfulness which are his.

|| If this is who we are, people who participate in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and who are being drawn up into the holiness of Christ, then Paul is right. Our lives are being transformed as we submit ourselves to the authority of Christ. We surrender what we thought was freedom, and we find that we are truly free only as we serve God and surrender to him. Instead of thinking that freedom means having no restrictions, we learn that we gain greater freedom through disciplined obedience. Just as a gymnast gains the freedom to do more difficult flips by the discipline of 5 hour work outs. Just as the pianist gains the freedom to play a Mozart requiem through the discipline of scales and sight-reading. Our discipline in obedience to Christ gives us the freedom to do even greater works for his kingdom as we are drawn further into the holiness of Christ.

As we live in that holiness, our lives are transformed. Our decisions begin to conform to God’s commands as we participate in his grace. We live more like the Sermon on the Mount, forgiving each other, sharing our lives with each other, and helping the weak and poor. We learn to build one another up, making sure that our words and actions are life-giving instead of life-taking, just as Anny spoke of two weeks ago, and we contribute our gifts and talents to the building up of Christ’s body, which is the church.

This disciplined obedience also means that we live in service to him and not anything else. We do not live in service to our jobs or making money. We are not controlled by the demands of style and high society. We are not restricted by a particular location, but are free to follow obediently, like Jared and Catherine. We realize that our families do not belong to us but are gifts from God, given as a trust for us to care for and lead in obedience to Christ. When obedience to Christ does not conflict with these other areas of our lives, then we are free to offer them obedience below our obedience to Christ. But if following Christ conflicts with the other demands on our lives, our obedience to Christ must come first.

As we participate in the work which God is doing, and as all of the areas of our lives are brought into the patter of Christ, we catch a glimpse of why the martyrs would die for Christ and how they would be able to confess Christ even when their lives are threatened.

The martyrs have been baptized with Christ and have died with him. They knew that they would also be raised to new life with Christ. They had surrendered to Christ in obedience and been disciplined in following him in every area of their lives. So when persecutions came, nothing that people could do could take away their love and obedience to Jesus. They would risk losing their jobs instead of taking advantage of a system that rewarded those who denied Jesus. They would lose friends, relatives, and community members who did not approve of their commitment to Christ, but they had gained citizenship in a new kingdom called Heaven, and they lived only as resident aliens in their own countries. They withstood being thrown in prison, knowing that their witness was not for destruction but was used by God for the spreading of the gospel. They even faced death, but they knew that they had already died with Christ, so no earthly being could kill their souls.

Our brother Paul was another of the many saints who have been martyred throughout the ages. He had seen many sufferings, as he recounts for us in 2 Corinthians 11, beginning in the second half of verse 21:

Whatever anyone else dares to boast about – I am speaking like a fool – I also dare to boast about./ Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am i. Are they Abraham’s descendants? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? (I am out of my mind to talk like this.) I am more. I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus 1. (40 lashes could kill a person, so the Jews, reduced the number by 1.)here times I was beaten with rods (this is the Roman punishment, given out by Roman authorities). Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own people, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food. I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches…….And finally at the end of the list, in chapter 12 verse 9, Paul ends by saying, “The Lord said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul had been so trained in the obedience of his baptism, that all of those sufferings actually became the strength of Christ and spread the news of the gospel, allowing Paul to do even greater work for the kingdom of God.

As we follow the examples of people like Paul, Justin, and Polycarp, and the thousands of other martyrs throughout history, we are drawn into Christ and transformed into obedient children of God. we become people who will live in obedience to Christ no matter what the cost, and giving up our obedience to other things that desire our service and worship. L

As we seek to live into our baptism with Christ, let us today reaffirm our baptismal vows. As the liturgy appears on the screen, I invite you to consider the words you are proclaiming. At the end of the liturgy, there will be time for you to remember your baptism as you come forward to the water, dip your fingers in the bowl, and trace the sign of the cross on your forehead. If you desire either prayer or confession before you approach the waters, please approach Pastor Susan or Pastor Anny on either side of the altar, or feel free to kneel at the front. A video will be playing while you pray.

First Sunday of Easter - Ps 16:8-11, Jn 20:19-31, 1 Pet 1:3-9

As we walk through this season of Easter, the people and stories of the Bible are our companions. They will be in the same place we are in this Easter season. Today we are here after the resurrection, having celebrated last week. Today we begin to discover what it means to live with a Risen Lord, not simply alive, for he’s been crucified and buried. But he’s not at all dead, for Jesus walks in our midst. We start to learn what it means to have a Jesus who lives forever and walks through walls. On this journey, we have the disciples gathered behind locked doors and we have Peter’s church. We journey together.

Today is the Sunday after Easter. Somewhere along the line, a people began calling today “low Sunday,” some of them because the number of people sitting in the pews tends to drop the Sunday after Easter. But for others, today became “Low Sunday” because Easter was an emotional high, a mountaintop experience; and this Sunday the church had reentered the valleys, the emotionally mundane.

One of my favorite Christian musicians is Bebo Norman. I listen to him while I’m studying and in my car. His songs find their way into my workout mixes and into my prayers. And this morning, one of his songs is finding its way into my sermon.

As I thought about Easter being a mountaintop, the words of Bebo’s “Walk Down This Mountain” started playing in my mind. “It’s a better place / Standing high upon this mountain / I’ve seen your face / full of the light that only this height can show / A blistered hand is what you’ve given / But you’ve been given all you’ll ever need to know.”

The mountaintop is good. We see God’s face on the mountain. The air is clearer. We are free of smog and traffic, free of busyness and worries, free of jobs and crying children. We have time to listen and time to be with God. The mountaintop is our spiritual vacation where we relax in God’s presence and are refreshed. Think of the mountaintop as your place of escape for a moment. Close your eyes and picture it. Laying in a meadow watching the clouds rush past. || Sitting on the beach as the waves crash on the sand. || Walking through a forest as the sun reflects off of the trees. || Sitting in your own private garden. || Here you can feel the stillness. The noise is silenced long enough to hear your own thoughts. The chaos is halted long enough for you to meet God. This is the mountaintop. On the mountaintop, we meet God, and Easter is certainly a mountaintop for the church.

On Easter we see Jesus resurrected, and we see him revealed as who he really is. The god incarnate; God made flesh and dwelling here in our midst. Throughout the Gospel of John, we have been told that Jesus’ actions are signs, signs pointing us in the right direction. And here at the end of the gospel, we see the greatest sign of all, the cross and resurrection, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. What a mountaintop. We have seen Jesus raised. We have seen God.

As we sit here this morning, the United Methodist Church in Haw River, North Carolina, 2008, we join a long line of people who have met God on the mountain. It is an important place for the people of God. Moses met God on the mountaintop and came down with the ten commandments. Elijah went up on the mountaintop an defeated the prophets of Baal when God sent fire from heaven to consume the evening sacrifice, and he came down to an Israel that had turned away from idols. Jesus went up on the mountain with his disciples and was transfigured there, and they came down having seen the glory of God in Jesus. Upon on the mountaintop we meet God. But none of these people stayed on the mountain. They came down and returned to life among the people of God. But something had happened on the mountain. They were changed. The time on the mountaintop transformed life in the valleys.

So we gather here this morning having been on the mountain. We have met God. We have waited through the cross and the tomb, and we have seen the Risen Jesus. And we too have been changed as we reenter the valleys on this Sunday after Easter. Life in the valleys looks different after the resurrection.

Thankfully we are not alone on this journey. We have as traveling companions the disciples and Peter’s church, the people and the stories of the scriptures. The disciples are gathered in the house behind locked doors. They know about the empty tomb. That morning Peter and the disciple Jesus loved had seen the grave clothes laying in the tomb. And Mary had seen Jesus and talked with him. She had told the disciples everything Jesus had said. Yet that night we still see the disciples locked behind closed doors, locked in fear.

The disciples have good reason to be afraid of the Judeans. They were still in Jerusalem after all, and it was the temple leaders in Judea who had put Jesus to death. They had already decided in Jn 9 that everyone who said Jesus was the Messiah would be expelled from the synagogue. And the Jerusalem leaders wanted to kill Lazarus as well because many people believed in Jesus because of Lazarus. Peter knew to be afraid. He had stood in the high priest’s courtyard when the girl recognized him as a follower of Jesus. Yes, the disciples had good reason to be afraid.

But Mary had told them that Jesus was alive, and they themselves had seen the empty tomb. They knew Jesus was not dead. They had been to the mountaintop of Easter morning. The disciples knew Jesus was alive, but like us, they had to learn how the resurrection transforms the valleys.

Into a room full of fear and death, Jesus enters, right through the WALLS! The first words out of Jesus’ mouth are “peace be with you.” Peace, not fear. It’s hard to be afraid of the Judeans when the person they killed comes back to life. Fear has no power. “Peace be with you.”

Then Jesus shows them his hands and his side. He isn’t a ghost or a vision. Jesus really stands in the room. He has a real body, and he still carries the signs of his death. But death doesn’t have any power either. A resurrected, living man bears those holes in his hands, feet, and side.

As the disciples recognize Jesus, he says again, “Peace be with you,” and he sends them out to do God’s work. The first person they go to is Thomas. They tell him that they have seen Jesus, but he doesn’t seem to know what that means for life in the valleys. We can’t really blame Thomas for not understanding. After all, the disciples didn’t understand either when Mary told them.

So a week later, Jesus comes again, and this time Thomas is present. Again he says, “Peace be with you.” Peace, again? Jesus really wants to convey that his risen presence brings peace doesn’t he? In 7 verses, he says it 3 times. Peace, do not fear. Peace, Jesus is alive. Peace, all of your doubts disappear in his presence.

Jesus tells Thomas to put his fingers into the holes in his hands, but Thomas doesn’t do it. Jesus’ presence and his proclamation of peace actually bring peace for Thomas’ doubts. He proclaims, “My Lord and my God.” And Jesus responds with his famous line, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Blessed are those who have believed the testimony of others that Jesus is risen.

Blessed is Peter’s church. Peter encourages the people with the words, “Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him.” Yes, Peter’s church also stands with us in the valleys after the mountaintop of Easter, and Peter is helping them navigate life in the valleys.

[Read from Bible] “In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade,” and “in this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.” This church is certainly in the valleys. They are being persecuted because they live in Christ. Later in the letter, we read that the people used to live as the pagans did, partying at the festivals, drinking for days, satisfying their lusts, and committing idolatry, but now they have stopped partying with their friends and started worshipping God. Their friends are persecuting and abusing the Christians. They are suffering under trials, but they rejoice in God’s power and strength.

The resurrection has transformed this church and its time in the valleys. They have been born into a living hope and they are not troubled by the trials and temptations. They are not afraid, and they are not doubting. They are not consumed by worry. They live in a state of peace. They have been given new birth. Birth is not a fleeting or occasional gift. When we were born, we entered the state of being alive. We are now a part of the world, and we cannot simply choose to be unborn whenever we like. This is Peter’s description of Christians. We have received birth into hope and an eternal inheritance. We have been born into joy and a peace which remains in spite of this life’s trials.

This is one of the ways we navigate life in the valleys. We are born into a state of peace when the Risen Jesus enters the room and transforms our lives. Think about life without Jesus. It is controlled by fear and worry. There is no one who has conquered death. There is no hope for transformation, and there is no confidence that God will sustain. People worry that their children’s career choices will never work out. They worry that they might one day get sick. Often they die in terror, worrying about the end of their existence. In a world of fear and worry, peace is one of our greatest witnesses to the Risen Jesus.

Think of the tax commercial playing this year. The men are in a sauna, and the one says that he can’t sweat anymore. The other men say he will sweat because of tax season, but he says that he has people. We are like that man. We have Jesus, so we live in a state of peace. We follow Jesus, unafraid of how we might be treated. Maybe the boss will be unhappy that we won’t work on Sundays, but we know that the boss’s opinion is not the one that really matters. Maybe our friends will ridicule and stand up against us, but we know that Jesus has promised to surround us with his power. Maybe children will make poor choices, but we know that Jesus has promised to be with them and is working to lead them to live wisely and follow God faithfully. In a world where many conversations are filled with worry, fear, and stress, the church who sees the risen Jesus and lives in peace is quite a witness.

Peace is the reality of the Christian life. It is like we are standing in the middle of a garden. Tranquility reigns, and our hearts and minds are stilled to be with God. But the world outside of the garden is busy, tired, stressed, and afraid, and there are many doors leading into this world of worry. We are constantly tempted to leave the garden of peace and worry like the outside world worries. If you have left the garden, look back to the Risen Jesus who stands in our midst and come back to this state of peace. Your presence in this realm of peace will draw others in as well, and they too will meet the Risen Lord.

WE live lives of peace transformed by the presence of Jesus standing in our midst. Easter was a mountaintop, and it was peaceful up there. But the valleys are also changed by our time on the mountain. Our companions today have show us that life in the valleys is also a life of peace, even in a world of worry and fear. But as we walk down this mountain into the valleys, the peace we have because we have seen the Lord witnesses back to the mountain, to Easter, to the resurrection, and to the Risen Jesus who stands among us. So walk down this mountain with peace in your hearts.

As Bebo’s song plays for us, I invite you to go to God in prayer and ask whether you have been seduced to leaving the garden of peace. Ask if your life of peace is witnessing to the mountaintop. Finally, ask if you are crouched on the mountaintop and God wants you to walk down the mountain transformed for the valley to witness to his resurrection.

The Leaders Among Us

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about the needs of our church leaders. I’ve had several conversations in the last three days that have made me realize just how much prayer our leaders need. Of course, I’ve always known that, and I’ve coveted those prayers for myself as I lead various groups and churches.

Leadership isn’t easy, and our leaders are isolated in so many ways. Think about the last time you had a conversation with a pastor or professor when you really heard what is happening in their lives, both joys and struggles. It doesn’t happen often. Our shepherds cannot lay their burdens on the shoulders of the sheep. That is not the call God has given to them. That also means that the shepherds rely on each other for strength and support. Hopefully they get the support they need. Either way, they really need our prayers.

I’ve been blessed by shepherds who were willing to be vulnerable (in appropriate ways of course) with their sheep. But that vulnerability reveals the spiritual warfare that they face every day. Temptation to rely on their own strength. Temptation to seek the glory of men instead of the glory of God. Temptation to lose focus and get carried away into sin or absurdity. Attacks from people who disagree with the decisions they make. Attacks from people who want to maintain control over others. Attacks from people who don’t understand the church or Christianity. Attacks from people who think that using gifts for the service of the church (either as pastors or professors) instead of to further an academic career is a waste of time. The loss of loved ones. Pressure to perform. Personal illness. Doubts. Demands to publish. Committee requirements. Family sacrifices. Mourning. Constant accessibility.

Even when we don’t know what is happening in the lives of our shepherds, they need our constant prayers. They need God’s protection over them to be healthy. So many of our shepherds struggle with major health problems. Perhaps like Paul, this is just a thorn in the flesh. But if these are attacks of the devil, we need to pray for release. I’m thinking about one of the church leaders who almost died five times shortly before he was supposed to answer a call to run a charitable foundation. This was no ordinary illness. We need to pray that God will sustain our leaders’ health to be able to fulfill the commissions God has given them.

We need to pray for renewal and rest for our shepherds. They serve on committees, make decisions, do research and study, spend hours in conversations with their sheep, and pour out themselves in the service and love of God and their neighbors. They are fulfilling a call, and they are blessed to be able to serve in their roles, but even a call can end in burnout if our shepherds do not have the space and resources to be renewed themselves. We need to pray that God will continually refresh them with the joy of their call. We need to pray that they will have the discipline to spend time seeking God and waiting on his voice. We need to pray that they will experience daily the life- and joy-giving presence of God in their lives.

We need to pray for the constant guidance and direction for our leaders. It is so easy to lose sight of whom we are serving and why. Too many of our shepherds “fall from grace.” It isn’t just the media cases who struggle with these temptations. Any one of our leaders can get too caught up with the praise or criticism of others. Any one of us can begin to think that we are important and draw attention to ourselves instead of pointing to God. Any one of us can choose paths that are easy instead of paths that are faithful. The kings of Israel provide ample examples of people who ended up falling themselves and often bringing most of Israel with them in the process. We need to pray that God will give our leaders the strength to resist temptation.

The last couple of days at WTS/SPS have been difficult as I have been faced with my own negligence in prayer for these shepherds in my own life. I have too easily assumed that things were smooth sailing because I did not know that they were difficult. I’ve watched the pain, uncertainty, and resilience in these shepherds faces as they shared their lives with me. I’ve heard the brokenness of people who watched their friends and colleagues fall into sin. I’ve seen the struggles of church leaders who work with churches in crisis after pastors make destructive decisions. Their stories speak volumes to their own need. Our shepherds need us to place them on our permanent prayer list and to pray for them by name every day. If we doubt that, we need only think of the prayers we would desire if we were in similar situations.

Life Lessons for 2008

Last night, I sat in a living room I have been in many times before, with family friends I've known since I was eight. We gathered to celebrate the new year and to watch "The Ultimate Gift." I won't spoil the movie, but a man is given instructions in his grandfather's will for a series of tasks, and along the way, he meets a little girl with leukemia.

As the movie played, I sat there doing everything in my power not to think about another girl. It's been a year and a half since my friend Alyssa died from cancer. Looking at the TV screen, I could see Lyssa's face and smile. I looked around the room at people smiling and wondered when I'll be normal again, when the word cancer will not give me flashbacks to Alyssa and thus make me sob uncontrollably.

Of course, I know that you never really are "normal" again. The loss and pain never go away; you just learn to live with them. Somehow though, I'm glad that I see Lyssa's face. I'm not glad that entire rooms of people think I'm having a nervous breakdown, but then somehow I don't seem to care about it all that much.

Lyssa was a gift. I will never forget the day that her father stood up in church and said that her death was not a tragedy because every day with her for fifteen years was a gift. If when I die, I am even half the woman that Lyssa was at 15, I will have lived a life worthy of my Creator and her friendship.

So I'm glad for Lyssa's face, the pain and the memories because Lyssa reminds me what matters. This past year and a half, I hope I've learned more to slow down for simple joys like fresh strawberries. I hope I've laughed more often and loved more deeply.

I never make new year's resolutions, but perhaps this year is the year to start. I resolve to view each day as Alyssa did, as a gift to be treasured; to make more time for those I love, to see them as the gifts that they are; to keep loving deeply, in spite of how badly it hurts to say goodbye.

Thank you, Lyssa for teaching me to live and love passionately every moment. I hope that one day I will finsih the race as faithfully as you, as we join together in praise around the throne of God.

Thoughts as I Exegete Matthew

You asked me what is the good of reading the Gospels in Greek.

I answer that it is proper that we move our finger

Along letters more enduring than those carved in stone,

And that, slowly pronouncing each syllable,

We discover the true dignity of speech.

Compelled to be attentive we shall think of that epoch

No more distant than yesterday, though the heads of caesars

On coins are different today. Yet still it is the same eon.

Fear and desire are the same, oil and wine

And bread mean the same. So does the fickleness of the throng

Avid for miracles as in the past. Even mores,

Wedding festivities, drugs, laments for the dead

Only seem to differ. . . .

And thus on every page a persistent reader

Sees twenty centuries as twenty days

In a world which one day will come to its end.

--Czeslaw Milosz

Christ the King Sunday - Col 1:11-20, Lk 23:33-43

At the end of the Magician’s Nephew, the first book in C.S. Lewis’ chronicles of Narnia series, the magical land of Narnia is created. The evil Jadis runs away as the children Polly and Digory stand spellbound, listening to beautiful and creat-ive music. As they listen, the sun and stars appear, revealing the lion Aslan, who is singing Narnia into being. With his high playful notes, the flowers appear, and by his music and breath the animals grow, come to life, and talk. Aslan places the carriage driver and his wife as king and queen over Narnia and they bow before Aslan and serve him well.

In Narnia, Aslan lives before Narnia is created, and Narnia is created by Aslan and for Aslan. C.S. Lewis has given us Colossians 1 in story form. Look at Colossians 1:11-20 with me now.

He is the image of the invisible God…the firstborn over all creation…in him all things hold together…he is the head of the body, the church. Listening to Paul’s words, we are as speechless as Polly and Digory watching Aslan. What a perfect passage for Christ the King Sunday.

Through Paul’s words, we see the majesty of Christ. He is the ruler after all. Christ rules over all things. Did you notice the repetition? In him all things were created…all things were created through him and for him…He is before all things…in him all things hold together…in all things he might have supremacy…through him all things were reconciled. There is no doubt that Christ is above us. And if we had any lingering doubts, this passage reminds us that we cannot compare with Christ.

What a necessary reminder. Christ the King Sunday returns year after year, and we are reminded once again that Christ is the ruler of the world and our lives. We try to remember that every day, don’t we? But we hear so many conflicting messages.

We tell our children to choose their vocations, and their high schools and colleges train them to make the choices to run their own lives. We decide who comes into our homes and who impacts our lives. We choose where to invest our time, energy, and money.

Our lives are filled with decisions we have to make. It is easy to wake up in the morning and forget to thank God for bringing the sun up again. It is easy to go to work and school without asking God for the strength to live faithfully. And it is easy to worry about homework, the cars, laundry, and dinner, and to fall into bed exhausted without thanking God for helping us through another day. John Wesley said that most people live as practical atheists, worshipping, praying, and serving God on Sundays and at Bible study, but running our lives as if God did not exist the rest of the time.

It’s easy to get caught up in our tasks, in the lists of chores that never seem to be finished. But Christ the King Sunday is our yearly reminder that God rules our lives; we do not. It is our yearly call to repentance for the days and hours when we have lived as though God does not exist.

For how could we ever compare to Christ? He is the image of the invisible God. We know God because we know Christ, because he lives and walks among us. As Christians, Christ lives in us, and so we become an icon as well, a window through which others can see Christ.

He is the creator of the heavens and the earth, of the rulers and powers. Even all of our scientific advances don’t allow us to create. We can clone cells, but God gives life. We can genetically engineer plants, but God makes them grow. We can elect presidents, but God rules above them all.

And Paul gives us more reasons to celebrate Christ as King. The end of this passage brings us to the resurrection, and finally to the cross. Christ is the firstborn from the dead. He is the first of many, the first of those of us who follow him. Christ is the first to be resurrected, and in that resurrection, he is the victorious conqueror. How did he conquer? He reconciled all things to him, making peace through his blood on the cross. Paul has brought us right to our passage from Luke, the crucifixion.

At first glance, Colossians 1 and Luke 23 seem like an odd combination for Christ the King Sunday. We can understand the Colossians passage. It is majestic. It exalts Christ as the creator, as the one who holds all things together. It recognizes him as the one who has supremacy over all things.

But Colossians draws us to Luke and Luke draws our attention to the cross. In the cross we see a different kind of majesty and a different kind of strength. Perhaps C.S. Lewis can stir our imaginations. In the passage right before the one I read to our children, Lewis writes, “A howl and gibber of dismay went up from the creatures when they first saw the great lion pacing toward them, and for a moment even the Witch herself seemed to be struck with fear. Then she recovered herself and gave a wild, fierce laugh.

“The fool!” she cried. “The fool has come. Bind him fast.”

Lucy and Susan held their breaths waiting for Aslan’s roar and his spring upon his enemies. But it never came. Four hags, grinning and leering, yet also (at first) hanging back and half afraid of what they had to do, had approached him. “Bind him, I say!” repeated the White Witch. The Hags made a dart at him and shrieked with triumph when they found that he made no resistance at all. Then others – evil dwarfs and apes – rushed in to help them, and between them they rolled the huge Lion over on his back and tied all his four paws together, shouting and cheering as if they had done something brave, though, had the Lion chosen, one of those paws could have been the death of them all. But he made no noise, even when the enemies, straining and tugging, pulled the cords so tight that they cut into his flesh. Then they began to drag him toward the Stone Table.

As the king who rules over the rulers of this world, Jesus could have destroyed Pilate and the high priest. Instead, Jesus silently accepts the crucifixion. As the one who created the world, Jesus could have come down from the cross, but he chooses to die there. One word and his captors would have fallen at his feet, but Jesus speaks no words. A different kind of majesty.

The people’s taunts are ironic. “He saved others, he cannot save himself.” “Save yourself and us!” Ironic because he is saving the people by not saving himself. The King of heaven and earth offers himself as a ransom for many, and in dying remains King.

The cross shows us a different type of strength. People without power follow orders. They have no choice in their interactions with others. The King has the power, power to condemn and kill or to pardon and forgive. Jesus reveals this power. He prays, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” Jesus pardons his killers. He reveals his mercy and grace.

Jesus, the King, dies on the cross because we have betrayed God. In the cross, we see the King who would suffer for our sake. We see Jesus, the one who created the world and who is before all things, choose to die. We see the head of the body, the church, give his life for that church. We see the King Jesus reconcile to himself all things, by making peace through his blood shed on the cross.

It is Christ the King Sunday. Today we see Jesus exalted, magnified above all of creation, and we see Christ submit to death on the cross. Today we are reminded that we exist because we are created by the King, and we remember that our lives are held together only by him. Today we hear the taunts, and recognize that we are saved by the one who chose not to save himself. Today we see our King. Let us remember that we serve Jesus, our King, every day of our lives, in all of our decisions. Let us repent of practical atheism, wherever it may appear in our lives, and allow Jesus to shape us into people who pray and worship God in all of our lives.

As we spend some time in prayer and repentance, ask God to reveal any areas in your life where you have distanced yourself from him. Ask Jesus to reveal himself as the King of your life, and repent of any ways you have ignored him. Then trust him to help you love and serve him. Jesus will not let you down.