Month: December 2017

Scripture readings: Deut. 18:15-20; Ps. 111:1-10; 
1 Cor. 8:1-13; Mark 1:21-28

Sermon by Ted Johnston from 1 Cor. 8:1-13
(drawing on commentary from Warren Wiersbe in The Bible Expository Commentary and Bruce Winter in The New Bible Commentary)

Exercising Our Freedom in Christ, part 1

Introduction

Today is the fourth Sunday after the Epiphany, which celebrates the revealing (epiphany) of Christ to the world. Let’s begin with a video of the song, Mary Did You Know?—it says a lot about who Jesus is as the one who brings light into a dark world.

On YouTube at https://youtu.be/ifCWN5pJGIE.

Our reading today in the Epistles takes us to 1 Corinthians 8, where Paul shows how we, through our actions, show forth (reveal) the nature of Jesus who came to give us true freedom.

In chapter 7, Paul answers questions from Christians in Corinth concerning being single or married. Then in chapters 8 through 10, he answers their question concerning whether it is permissible to eat meat that was sacrificed to idols. I don’t suppose this is a question we think about on a daily basis, but Paul’s answer tells us a lot about how we appropriately exercise the freedom that we, by the Spirit, have in our union with Jesus.

To help us think about this issue with the mind of Christ, Paul provides four guiding principles:
1. Balance knowledge with love (1 Cor. 8)
2. Balance authority with discipline (1 Cor. 9)
3. Balance experience with caution (1 Cor. 10:1–22)
4. Balance freedom with responsibility (1 Cor. 10:23–33)

Next Sunday we’ll look at the 4th principle. Today, let’s look at the 1st one, beginning in 1 Cor. 8:1:

Now about food sacrificed to idols…

If you wanted to buy meat in the ancient city of Corinth, you typically had two choices:  meat sold in the commercial markets (with high prices), and meat sold in the pagan temples (where meat that had been sacrificed to idols was offered at a lower price).

Spiritually strong Christians knew that idols, being nothing but the work of human hands, could not contaminate food. So they saved money by purchasing meat at the temples, and if non-Christian friends or family invited them to a meal at a temple, they felt free to attend and partake of the meat being served there.

But these practices were highly offensive to Christians who were not as strong in the faith—not as confident in the freedom they had in Christ. Many of them had come to Christ out of paganism and could not understand why fellow believers would have anything to do with meat sacrificed to idols. This situation had the potential to divide the church in Corinth, so the local leaders of the church wrote Paul asking his advice. In reply, Paul calls to their attention three vital factors: knowledge, love and conscience.

Knowledge

Now about food sacrificed to idols: We know that “We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. (1 Cor. 8:1-2)

In general, the Corinthians knew rightly that an idol “is nothing” (1 Cor. 8:4)—merely a man-made representation of a non-existent god. But according to Paul, such knowledge can be a weapon to fight with or it can be a tool to build with. If knowledge “puffs up” it cannot “build up.” In fact, a know-it-all attitude is evidence of underlying ignorance of what makes knowledge useful, namely love, the second factor to which Paul now turns.

Love

But whoever loves God is known by God. So then, about eating food sacrificed to idols: We know that “An idol is nothing at all in the world” and that “There is no God but one.” For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”),  yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live. (1 Cor. 8:3-6)

The greatest knowledge of all is to know the true God, who has been revealed to us in Jesus Christ, “through whom we live.” In Jesus, knowledge and love are inseparable. The “strong” in the Corinthian church had knowledge, but they were short on love. Instead of building up the weak, they were puffing up themselves.

Paul wants for the strong, in love and according to knowledge, to help the weak grow in both knowledge and love. When spiritual knowledge is tempered with love, the strong take the hand of the weak and help them stand and walk so as to enjoy the freedom that is theirs in Christ. But, one cannot force-feed weak believers, for there is a third factor to consider, namely their conscience.

Conscience

But not everyone possesses this knowledge. Some people are still so accustomed to idols that when they eat sacrificial food they think of it as having been sacrificed to a god, and since their conscience is weak, it is defiled. But food does not bring us near to God; we are no worse if we do not eat, and no better if we do.

Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak. For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol’s temple, won’t that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols? So this weak brother or sister, for whom Christ died, is destroyed by your knowledge. When you sin against them in this way and wound their weak conscience, you sin against Christ. (1 Cor. 8:7-12)

Conscience is where our actions are judged and then approved or condemned. Note how Paul makes this point in Romans 2:

When Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts sometimes accusing them and at other times even defending them. (Rom. 2:14-15)

However, one’s conscience is only as reliable as the knowledge that informs it. The more we rightly know and then act upon, the stronger (and more accurate) our conscience becomes. Some Christians have weak consciences because they lack knowledge and other elements of maturity in Christ. But note a key point here—their weak consciences must be guarded carefully.

While it might not harm the conscience of a strong Christian to share a meal with non-Christian friends in a pagan temple or at home, it might harm the conscience of a weaker Christian who might decide to imitate a stronger brother or sister and thus be led into what would offend their conscience and thus be, for them, a sin.

Note that when the strong defer to the weak in such matters of conscience, they do so not to encourage their immaturity, but to help them grow in maturity. Thus the bottom line for Paul in a situation like this one is that we are all free in Christ to follow the lead of the Spirit in obeying the Word of the Lord in each situation as it presents itself—indeed, as Paul says in Galatians 5:1, It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. However, we must take care that our knowledge (and thus practice) of this freedom is balanced (tempered) by love, which trumps all else.

In the way we live out our freedom in Christ, we must be careful not to tempt the weak among us by leading them to run ahead of their consciences.

Where knowledge is balanced by love, the strong will minister to the weak, and the weak (unless they are obstinate) will grow and become strong. I say “obstinate,” because some who are weak use their weakness as an excuse, refusing to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ, which is the very basis of our life in Christ. Paul elsewhere corrects such people, but here his primary focus is on instructing the strong to be careful not to offend the consciences of those who are weak.

Paul then goes on in the rest of this letter to note that the strong in living out the freedom that is theirs in Christ, must not only balance knowledge with love, but also balance experience with caution (1 Cor. 10:1–22) and freedom with responsibility (1 Cor. 10:23–33; 11:1).

In these ways, Paul reminds those who are strong in the faith to not, by their behavior, make it difficult for other people (weak believers, in particular) to trust the Lord. As those who are mature in Christ—those strong in the faith—we  are not to seek our own good. Instead, we are to seek after the benefit of others, that they may be encouraged to trust in Christ and so grow in maturity, including a mature exercise of the freedom they, too, have in Christ.

It is in this spirit that Paul writes, “I try to please everybody in every way” (1 Cor. 10:33). By saying this, Paul is not suggesting that we should be people-pleasers. Rather, he is affirming the fact that his life and ministry were centered on helping others rather than on promoting himself and his own desires.

Conclusion

The way of Christ in which we are to live is the way of exercising freedom in order to love God and love others. Paul’s own way of doing so no doubt appeared inconsistent to some (the Judaizers were particularly critical of Paul). At times, Paul would eat what Gentiles were eating (including the meats that were unclean to Jews and meat that had been sacrificed to idols). But instead of being inconsistent, Paul was living consistently by the principles he lays down here in 1 Corinthians. Rather than selfishly asserting his freedom in Christ, he balanced knowledge with love. To do so he implied that if it would be helpful to his weaker brothers and sisters, he would become a vegetarian:

Therefore, if what I eat causes my brother or sister to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause them to fall. (1 Cor. 8:13)

May each of us follow Paul as he follows Christ by balancing our knowledge with love.

Scripture readings: Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Ps. 62:5-12; 
1 Cor. 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20

Sermon by Josh McDonald from Mark 1:19-20

 A Lesson from Big Jim from the ’Burbs

Introduction

Let’s talk about boredom. A fourth century monk wrote this about it:

The demon of boredom—also called the noonday demon—is the one that causes the most serious trouble of all. He presses his attack up on the monk at the fourth hour and besieges the soul until the eighth hour. First of all he makes it seem that the sun barely moves, if at all, and that the day is fifty hours long. Then he constrains the monk to look constantly out the windows, to walk outside the cell, to gaze carefully at the sun to determine how far it stands from lunchtime, to look this way and now that…. It instills in the heart of the monk a hatred for the places, a hatred for his very life itself…

Then there are the words of the 18th-century French Queen, Marie Antoinette, who in describing her sense of boredom said, Noting tastes!

Then there are words concerning boredom from the 19th-century poet Charles Baudelaire:

In the disorderly circus of our vice,
there’s one more ugly and abortive birth.
It makes no gestures, never beats its breast,
yet it would murder for a moment’s rest,
and willingly annihilate the earth.
It’s BOREDOM. Tears have glued its eyes together.
You know it well, my Reader. This obscene
beast chain-smokes yawning for the guillotine….

Finally, we have a profound observation concerning boredom from rock legend Kurt Cobain: Oh well, whatever. Nevermind…

Boredom—the noonday demon, a tasteless existence, nevermind. Boredom is a common denominator in a culture where our needs are fulfilled we’re safe, fed, politically at rest, relationally connected, physically satiated. Yet our souls scream out: “What next?” “What’s life for?” “What’s the purpose of it all?” We ask ourselves, “Should I numb myself with pleasure?” “Should I keep acquiring stuff—doesn’t the one who dies with the most toys win?” “Do I now find some great issue to champion?” “Should I be pro-Trump or anti-Trump, pro-military or pacifist, protest cruelty to animals or protest abortion?” “What next?”

Christian author Kathleen Norris wrote about acedia—an ancient word that describes the mix of boredom and depression that seems to be the symbol of our time:

Acedia has come so far with us that it easily attaches to our hectic and overburdened schedules. We appear to be anything but slothful, yet that is exactly what we are, as we do more and care less, and feel pressured to do still more.

“Do more and care less”—isn’t that the painful description of the soccer mom as she drives to yet another PTA meeting and takes an anxiety pill so she doesn’t have to feel it? Acedia—boredom and depression—nothing new in the history of humankind. That which makes the sun seem to stand still and the day 50 hours long, and makes “nothing taste” (this said by the queen of France, who had more wealth and opportunity than all of us combined!).

Let’s think together about this issue by going to the first chapter of Mark’s Gospel, where we find Jesus beginning to call his first disciples—a hand-picked cabinet of 12 that included all kinds of people. There were con-artists, petty thieves, outdoorsmen, roughnecks, terrorists, cultural sell outs, all manner of weirdoes. However, the lessons we learn from their examples are invaluable—they bring the power of the gospel into high relief so we can see clearly what’s going on.

Yet among these 12 we don’t often see one thing—ourselves. Instead, we see people whose sins and heroism are obvious, who have powerful virtues and yet make great blunders. What we don’t see is the person like most of us—the suburbanite whose life is routine. We don’t see someone who is looking from his suburban manicured lawn to suburban manicured lawns every direction, dying of the modern sickness of apathy and boredom—the whole world at his or her fingertips like never before, yet their heart is gasping the words of Macbeth: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow… life is a tale told by an idiot…”

But let’s look closer at Mark’s account—past the examples of the first disciples’ extreme lifestyles and exciting transformations to two brothers from a middle-class family who are unbelievably bored. Perhaps we can relate.

Going on a little farther, [Jesus] saw James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, who were in their boat mending the nets. And immediately he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants and followed him. (Mark 1:19-20)

Nothing extraordinary here. James was a common name at that time. In fact, we know of several James in the New Testament:

•  James, son of Alphaeus. This one is an apostle we know almost nothing about. He is called James the Less, and it may be because he was shorter than James the Great. We might call him Little Jim.
• James the brother of Jesus, also called James the Just. He is most likely the one who wrote the book of James.
• James the Greater. He was the brother of the John mentioned here in Mark. James and John were known as “the sons of thunder,” a nickname Jesus gave them. This is who we are talking about today, or as I like to call him, Big Jim from the ’Burbs.

We don’t know a whole lot about Big Jim—we know much more about his famous brother John. I call him “Big Jim from the ’Burbs” because he, more than any of the other original 12 disciples, seems to have the most in common with most of us. Matthew was a political traitor, Judas a terrorist, Peter a roughneck outdoorsman. All were interesting men, but we probably would not be hanging out with them in our day and age. However, we might find ourselves hanging out with Big Jim and his brother John—guys we might meet in the check-out line at the grocery store.

Big Jim and John were brothers in an economically comfortable family. Their profession as fisherman had been laid out for them when they were young. Their mother, Salome, was one of the first financial underwriters of Jesus’ ministry. John had enough money to take Mary, the mother of Jesus, into his home and care for her the rest of her life. Their dad, Zebedee, was in the rotary club and their mom was the secretary of the PTA. They were members of the bowling league and mowed their lawn on Sunday afternoon. More than any of original 12 disciples, James and John were like us.

And like us, they may have suffered from the listlessness of a settled life in a settled place. They may be in the time in their life when they’ve put together a profession and a future—a dull, grey, yet stable one—and their hearts are aching with boredom. They know there must be something more. I read an article this week that said the new epidemic in our Western world isn’t greed or lust or selfishness—it’s chronic boredom!

This is perhaps why we have Big Jim and John jump up so quickly in Mark  chapter 1:

And going on a little farther, he saw James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, who were in their boat mending the nets. And immediately he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants and followed him. (Mark 1:19-20)

If we drill down on this statement, we see the brothers leaving two things right away: their family and their profession. They didn’t just jump out of a boat—they jumped right out of their routine existence. To leave their family and their future occupation means that they left everything. Society would have no way to define them anymore. Just look at our last names.

[Give examples here: McDonald—I am the “son of Donald” of the clan Donald. Nelson—“son of Nell.” Steward is a name taken from the house guardian—it’s a profession name—the “steward” of the house. Metzger is the German word for butcher. Miller is another profession name.]

Who our family is and what our profession is are all too often used to define who we are. Big Jim left this when he left the boat, although it didn’t leave him for a long time.

In the Gospels we see all 12 of the original disciples bumble along trying to understand what Jesus is up to. Their errors, as well as their great triumphs, are there for the viewing. Peter gets called Satan, Philip gets confronted (you still don’t understand?), and all of them run off and desert Jesus on the worst night of his life. One of the big misunderstandings between them and Jesus is in the understanding of the word “kingdom.”

As these disciples were growing up, they would have heard stories about the great and terrible day of the Lord—the time when God was going to intervene directly in history, restore Israel as the ruling nation and himself as the king. He would break the evil and reward the righteous.

Jesus’ slogan, over and over when he arrives, is that “the kingdom is among you.” But it sure didn’t look like it! People were still dying, wars raged on, rivers dried up and famines continued, all during Jesus’ lifetime when the “kingdom” was supposedly near.

But what Jesus was talking about was a kingdom not of this world. Not a political or economic kingdom, but a kingdom of love and restored relationships. An upside-down kingdom in which the last are first, and the weak are called the strong. Instead of aggression and force, Jesus’ kingdom is about humility and willingness. Instead of amassing and taking, his kingdom is about sharing and loving. This kingdom is what things look like when God is in charge.

This understanding opens up our world a bit, perhaps a lot. The kingdom is fundamentally expressed in relationship. Sure, you may be having a great conversation with God in your own head, but if you can’t also have a conversation with a neighbor or a difficult relative, the kingdom isn’t there in its full power. You may have a great time singing praises with the praise team at church, but if it doesn’t result in a deepened love for your spouse or patience with your kids, the kingdom hasn’t come in its fullness.

The kingdom breaking into our lives means that it breaks into every part, every action, every thought, and definitely into every relationship. The kingdom is what things look like when God is in charge.

In Jesus’ day, the Israelite people had their own ideas about what the kingdom was and how it was going to come. For them, it was a political, military kingdom, and thus we see constant confusion with Jesus because of how he defined the kingdom.

Big Jim had his own problems getting the picture. In the two vignettes we have about him, he shows some sin issues that we can all relate to. First, there is the issue of fear; and second, there is the issue of vanity. Fear and vanity, both exposed by conversations with Jesus.

Let’s look at Luke’s account:

When the days drew near for [Jesus] to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. (Luke 9:51-56)

This is Jesus heading toward Jerusalem—he set his face toward Jerusalem. Jesus knew his purpose and knew what had to happen for this kingdom, the one he kept talking about, to come. And these two sons of thunder start telling him how to do his job.

There’s a lot of speculation as to where their nickname came from—Boanerges in the original language. Scholars speculate it had something to do with their thunderous tempers, and that may be shown here. The Samaritan village wasn’t listening, wasn’t making way for the kingdom of God. James would have known the story of Elijah calling down fire on an army in the book of Kings. They wanted to be part of that kind of kingdom, so they acted in fear.

Their fear, manifested as anger, caused them to make this violent request of Jesus. Do you want us to call down fire? Surely now we are part of the kingdom that will eradicate haters like this? They considered the Samaritans to be half-breeds, heretics, cultists—a threat to what it meant to be God’s people. Hate and fear worked together in this request.

Just the sight of the Samaritan village on the hill would have disgusted them. Can we connect with that fear? [show pictures of a member of ISIS and then a member of the KKK]. Everyone of us can act out of this fear. We can all act out of hatred and anxiety, and wish that God would crush the evil-doers, and eradicate the Samaritan village so that we can finally rest easy. Surely Jesus wants to do that! We savor the day when he will finally give all these arrogant sinners their cumeuppance.

But what does Jesus do? He rebukes Big Jim and his brother John. We don’t have the words exchanged, but we know the context. People come to him immediately afterward and say “let me bury my father first” or “let me say goodbye to everyone at home” and then I will follow you. Big Jim and John are saying something similar—”Jesus, we’d like your kingdom to look like we want it to look. We only want to give a little—I’m willing to give up this sin or that sin, but I really like to keep this one.”

I’m reminded here of cancer. The most aggressive kinds respond the most dramatically to treatment. Cancer that is obvious and moving quickly often responds to treatment and shows quick results. It’s the slow-moving, deeper cancers that you don’t notice until it’s too late. Those are the ones that kill you subtly and silently—that’s why they are so dangerous.

Sin is like that. Sure, you may have found freedom from an addiction to alcohol or pornography, but what about being addicted to being the center of attention? You may have finally stopped cussing when you stub your toe, but do you use your clean words now to gossip or tear others down? Do you let fear run your decisions—not just disagreeing with those who live differently than you, but avoiding them, treating them like they aren’t made in God’s image? Treating them like Jesus didn’t die for them too?

Jesus exposes one of Big Jim’s besetting, suburban, “acceptable” sins in this short exchange. Jesus tells him that this isn’t what his kingdom is about—a temporary judgment coming out in military strength and supernatural violence. Jesus is not running that kind of operation. He’s not setting his face toward Jerusalem to go there and take over the government. He will be entering the city on a donkey, not the white horse and fanfare of a king—that has yet to come. Villages will continue to reject him, and us by proxy, and he will hold back the fires of destruction. Jesus’ kingdom is one of mercy, and the only cleansing fire that needs to come from heaven right now, will come in our hearts.

So Big Jim from the ’Burbs starts to see a little of what’s going on. Jesus isn’t going to be absorbed into their lives as usual. Just as he called them out of their father’s boat, their father’s profession, and their family matrix, so he calls them out of their long-held prejudices. He calls them out of letting fear run their lives.

The second vignette deals with a sin that might be a little easier to get our hands on. Let’s look at Matthew’s account:

Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, and kneeling before him, she asked a favor of him. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” But Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will indeed drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left, this is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” (Matt. 20:20-23)

Ah, nepotism! We know from later on that their mother Salome is one of the financial supporters of Jesus’ early ministry, and of the early church. Here she is doing what any good suburban mom would do—looking out for her boys. Look, Jesus, it would be easier for me to increase my tithing, loosen up those purse strings a little if I knew that Big Jim and Johnny were gonna be comfortable when this all gets established. I scratch your back, Lord, and…well…?

Vanity, pride. First, we had fear and prejudice and cultural hatred, good old-fashioned racism and small-mindedness. Now, we have career advancement. Say, Jesus, just wondering who you’re going to pick for head positions when you come into this empire you’re talking about! James and John are good boys, maybe a little rough, but they learn quickly. I’d love it if they could have corner offices, maybe next to each other.

But this isn’t the kind of kingdom Jesus was talking about. The kingdom of God runs on higher laws and with better ends than the way things work in the world of business or politics. The kingdom of God is eternal; these other realms are temporary. The kingdom of God isn’t achieved by personal strength or clever intrigue, or by garnering favors—the kingdom of God is known through love. The kingdom of God was won by Jesus’ suffering and dying, not bullying his way to the top.

So we have Big Jim from the ’Burbs. Along with his brother John, he’s being called further and further from his old life and the old idols that sucked up his spirit.

What boat is Jesus calling you to jump out of today? For some people, that means a calling right out of their life and into direct, vocational ministry. Francis of Assisi is an example—a rich kid with a privileged life who left it all behind to go into ministry. But most of us aren’t called to something quite so dramatic. God gets a lot done through us doing our jobs and paying our taxes. It’s when we start defining ourselves by these things that the problems arise. When we start acting like the financial or occupational situation we’re in is all that we’re made for, we end up like Marie Antoinette saying, “Nothing tastes.” Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. The cruel grey idols of our own selfishness and self-addiction.

Big Jim seems to finally get the picture at some point. Somewhere, we don’t have an exact record, he lets go of himself and puts his life fully in the care of Jesus, his Lord. According to early church tradition, following Jesus’ death, resurrection and ascension, he heads west, taking the treacherous journey all the way to Spain.

Historians support this tradition, noting that his mission to Spain essentially flopped. The one who wanted to make connections in the kingdom and destroy the enemies of Christ like a prophet was, at least by our standards, a failure as a missionary. During the same time, Peter and Andrew were doing well in their missionary work in the West—winning people to Christ and planting churches. But it seems that Big Jim was selling something nobody wanted. He worked and worked, yet was only able to convert nine people after a few years, while his brothers-in-arms converted thousands. Nine. Not exactly victorious Christian living! A man who had been trained in ministry by the son of God himself fizzles out in hostile territory.

That, to me, is great encouragement. When I don’t think things are going well in my ministry or with the church, I can think of my older brother James having much the same luck. One day he was praying, laying out his frustrations and confusion with his present mission. The story goes that the virgin Mary, who was still alive at the time, appeared to him with a pillar. She told him that his work hadn’t been in vain and that God would bless him. Then she told him to build a church around that pillar she had brought. If you ever meet someone who is Latino and has the name “pilar” it comes from this story.

So he built the church as instructed, and finally found success. He returned to Jerusalem at some point, and we don’t know exactly why. There he was brought up on false charges and put on trial. Big Jim, the one who wanted to make all the connections and have a name for himself, the suburban kid who was going to climb the ladder and distinguish himself, is given a sacred ministry, and resurfaces in scripture one final time:

About that time King Herod laid violent hands upon some who belonged to the church. He had James, the brother of John, killed with the sword. (Acts 12:1-2)

About the same time, Peter was also arrested by Herod. And yet Peter was freed by an angel and went on to have a fruitful, illustrious career and do great miracles. Big Jim was executed like a criminal by some soldiers, probably between their breakfast and lunch.

Tradition says that James was falsely accused, but Herod was only too happy to have him arrested, especially when he saw how popular it made him with the public. Soon Big Jim faced the sword—he’d seen beheadings before, he knew how these things went. And yet he who, in the past, was motivated by vanity, stood before his executioners with peace on his face. Seeing this, his accuser was so moved that he threw himself at James’s feet and asked his forgiveness. James forgave him, and they were then both executed by Herod.

Tradition tells us that Peter’s ministry was to found the church in Rome, Andrew’s ministry was to found the church in Greece, and Thomas’ ministry was to found the church in India. The ministry of James the Great was to be the first to prove that the kingdom of Christ, while in this world, is not of this world.

What, though of Big Jim? What can we learn from him?

•  See yourself in the story. The Bible seems very far away sometimes. As if the only people God chooses are great sinners and great saints—comic book characters, to our minds. But Big Jim wasn’t like that. He was a middle-class guy with a middle class future ahead of him. He was connected, secured, and bonded, and Jesus called him out of that.
• Jump out of the boat. Maybe Jesus won’t call you out of your profession and culture, but he will call you not to define yourself by these things. He will call you to hold these gifts—because they are gifts—with an open hand. Once you close your hand around them, they become idols. What boat is he calling you to jump out of today? Do you need to jump out of the boat of your own image? The boat of career advancement? Lining your bank account? What holds you back from allowing God to take care of you—from being prepared to let him be your only reward, your only recognition.
• Understand that the kingdom is not of this world. The man who had his mom try to get him in good with the boss, was the first to lose his life. Big Jim was the first to show that this worldly kingdom, even accomplishments in ministry, weren’t where his identity came from. How would it change our lives if we were to embrace that perspective? If we were to see our success in the world paling in comparison to success in the kingdom?

Scripture readings: 1 Sam. 3:1-10, 11-20; Ps.139:1-6, 13-18
1 Cor. 6:12-20; John 1:43-51

Sermon by Martin Manuel from John 1:43-51

Our Journey with Jesus

Introduction

Today is the second Sunday after the Epiphany, which commemorates the revealing of Jesus. Our Gospel reading today is John 1:43-51. Let’s begin with an enactment:

On YouTube at https://youtu.be/bnb-8veFppQ

The Gospel reading on the day of Epiphany is Matthew 2:1-12, the story about the revealing of Christ to the Magi, and through them to King Herod and the residents of Jerusalem. On the first Sunday following Epiphany this year (last Sunday), the Gospel reading was about the baptism of the Lord by John the Baptist, which brought about another revealing of Jesus as the Son of God—this time to John the Baptist. The Gospel of John goes on to explain that John the Baptist then testified about his epiphany to some of his disciples. In doing so, he identified Jesus to a small number of disciples, who, in turn, embarked upon a journey with Jesus.

The flow of this story, starting with Jesus’ revealing, transitioned to his identification. What followed? The Lectionary readings today help us understand. In 1 Sam. 3:1-10, we read of God revealing himself to Samuel. In Ps. 139:1-6, 13-18, the Psalmist recognized God’s comprehensive knowledge of him and marveled at God’s handiwork in his body. In 1 Cor. 6:12-20, Paul reminds us that our bodies are the temple of the indwelling Holy Spirit. Combining these readings, we see the transition from revelation to identification, and from there to a journey with Jesus—a journey we take together.

What did it mean to the first disciples to journey on earth with Jesus, the Son of God who is the son of man? And what does it mean to us to journey, by the Spirit, with Jesus today? We will learn the answer as we proceed.

Jesus calls his disciples

Just as God called Samuel, Jesus called his disciples:

The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.” (John 1:43)

The meaning of the Greek word translated follow conveys the idea of traveling on the same road together with one who is leading the way. The result is a journey together—the initiator leading the way and the invitee following. Philip did not initiate his journey with Jesus—Jesus found him then called him to journey with him. The Gospel of John does not explain how Jesus knew Philip. It does tell us in v. 44 that Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from Bethsaida, a fishing village on the Sea of Galilee. Other followers of Jesus lived there too, including brothers James and John—the John who authored this Gospel.

Disciples share the message

Philip did not keep the exciting news about Jesus to himself—he told his friend:

Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.” (John 1:45)

Previously, Andrew had done the same, seeking out his brother, Peter, and telling him the good news (vv. 40-41). Here we see a common thread in the natural response to recognizing and identifying an exciting revelation from God.  Samuel, pressured by Eli, repeated the message given to him. The Psalmist testified to what he observed. These disciples, called to journey with Jesus, shared their epiphany of Jesus with others.

As often occurs, Philip’s friend Nathaniel reacted with skepticism:

“Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked. (John 1:46a)

To this response, Philip wisely extended an invitation: “Come and see,” said Philip  (John 1:46b). Not only did Philip share the message, he encouraged his friend Nathanael to openly and honestly investigate.

Jesus knows his disciples

Although young Samuel did not know God, God knew him. In the same way, God knew the Psalmist. The Holy Spirit, indwelling each member of the body of Christ, knows them. One attribute of the Father, Son, and Spirit is omniscience—complete, comprehensive knowing. So it’s no surprise that Jesus, though limited in his humanity, through the Spirit knew his disciples even before they met.

When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” “How do you know me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.” (John 1:47-48)

Nathaniel was stunned at this greeting. Instead of Jesus saying, “Hi, I’m Jesus, what’s your name”? Jesus introduced himself by declaring to Nathaniel that he already knew him. Not only did he know him in a general way, he knew of a specific incident that Nathaniel realized only God could know of! Jesus had done the same to Peter at their introduction, as recorded in John 1:42, not only knowing who Peter was but who he would come to be!

Disciples recognize and journey with Jesus

Not allowing himself to be confused by doubting thoughts about coincidences, Nathanael quickly recognized Jesus:

Then Nathanael declared, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.” (John 1:49)

What a profound conclusion, arrived at so quickly! This was a rare occurrence, even for a disciple.

Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” (John 1:50)

Like a parent taking their child on a sightseeing trip that exposes the child to sights that enrich the whole experience, Jesus promised Nathaniel and the other early disciples profound discoveries as they continued to journey with him. He then added,

“Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.” (John 1:51)

Jesus seemed to enjoy saying something to provoke deep thought in his disciples. This was one such statement. He was drawing on an experience in the life of the Patriarch Jacob, recorded in Genesis 28:11-16. Jacob, who previously had not encountered the God of Abraham and Isaac, had an epiphany in a place that he named Bethel, meaning “House of God.” Jacob was deeply impressed with his dream of angels ascending and descending a ladder stretched between heaven and earth. He viewed Bethel as the gate of heaven. Jesus was wanting Nathaniel and his friends to realize that he is the true gate of heaven—not only as the Son of God but also as the son of man.

Heaven and humanity are linked through Jesus, and his followers are the immediate beneficiaries. The disciples would experience recurring evidences of this reality as they journeyed with him. Like this experience of Nathaniel’s, they each would come to see the glory of God in Jesus. What they would experience would cause their interest in him and reverence for him to grow.

As we know, Samuel eventually recognized and responded to God. The Psalmist understood about God through observing that God knows him. Mature members of the body of Christ, the church, experience the presence of the indwelling Holy Spirit and the honor this brings. All these are outcomes of a journey with Jesus.

Our journey with Jesus

Our journey with Jesus is much more than a spiritual trip that occupies the passage of time in our lives. What takes place on this journey builds faith and inspires transformation.

Jesus began to signal the progression of experiences in the journey with his first disciples by telling Nathaniel that he would encounter amazing and miraculous experiences. The story of Jesus’ first-century disciples hanging out with the Lord, may seem to be an unachievable ideal. We may find ourselves sighing and thinking about how special it would be for us to experience the same thing. But is it possible that we could have similar experiences now? Does the Gospel account imply that, like these early disciples, we too can journey with—hang out with—Jesus and with the Father, through the Spirit?

The answer is YES! The living, risen and ascended Jesus, is today who he was then. We can count on him to lead us through amazing, encouraging, and transforming experiences as we journey with him.

Our journey with Jesus begins with his calling. We are not the initiators of that calling—it didn’t start with us deciding to give our hearts to him. We had no clue about him until he opened our minds and hearts to realize and respond to his call. Sometimes it may be difficult to recognize exactly when that call occurred, nevertheless it did, and it originated not with us, but from above. As we responded, a rich journey of learning ensued. Through those experiences, we grew in faith and in knowing the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.

Through this journey, we have opportunities to share our encounters and the knowledge they bring with others, telling them about this Jesus and the difference he has made our lives. When we share this good news, we receive all sorts of reactions, including resistance and skepticism. When that occurs, we may have to tactfully and wisely invite our friends to “come and see”—without pressure, giving them opportunity and time to see for themselves. Remember, the call does not come from us.

Also, it’s important for us to realize that our friends are already on God’s radar, so to speak. They are completely known by the Father, Son, and Spirit long before we enter the picture. The Holy Spirit is already at work within them, working to lead them to Jesus. We can trust him to do that work and trust that, in time, they will have their eyes opened. A challenge for each of us is to try to discern the current activity of the Spirit in their lives and participate with the Spirit at that point in our friend’s journey with Jesus. If there is no indication of interest, it might not be the right time. We should always pray for discernment.

John’s Gospel goes on in its remaining 20 chapters to detail the progression in the growth of Jesus’ disciples during their journey with him. We do not have time to read about it now, but if we jump ahead in the story, we find John, late in life, still musing on the journey with Jesus and its ultimate outcome, which is fellowship with Jesus and the Father through the Spirit. Note what John wrote in his first epistle:

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. (1 John 1:1-3)

The early followers of Jesus, the original apostles, had a special role in the development of the faith and growth of all the followers of Jesus who would come behind them. They were eye-witnesses of Jesus Christ; they learned from him first-hand; they were sent directly by him to proclaim his message, the gospel, to everyone else who would follow.

As they journeyed with Jesus, experiencing the many faith-building and knowledge-growing experiences that Jesus had promised, they served as the ears, eyes, and hands of each of those who would receive the gospel afterward through their preaching and writing. John told the readers of his Gospel and epistles that his intent was that the fellowship that they, the apostles, enjoyed with Jesus and the Father would be shared with many others. This is one reason why we should regularly study the writings of the apostles in the New Testament.

Fellowship is a word that today is rarely used outside of religious settings. An investigation of this word in Greek, as used by John, enlightens us to the awesome blessing that we are granted as an outcome of our journey with Jesus. That word is koinonia, which the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament defines as a term that describes…

… the living bond in which the Christian stands. Here, too, the word implies inward fellowship on a religious basis. To be a Christian is to have fellowship with God. This fellowship is with the Father and the Son. It issues in the brotherly fellowship of believers. The believer’s communion with God or Christ consists in mutual abiding, which begins in this world and reaches into the world to come, where it finds its supreme fulfillment.

Elsewhere, koinonia is defined as partnership. But living bond suggests an even stronger partnership that is deeply inward instead of just superficially outward (as in a business partnership). This living bond is between each Spirit-led human believer and God the Father through Jesus Christ. Together, these believers, by the Spirit who unites them, have a bond with one another—an experience they share with each other.

Koinonia is also translated communion in some New Testament passages, applying the word to the sharing of the bread and wine that are, for us as a congregation, the sharing in the body and blood of Christ. Referring to the Lord’s Supper as Communion helps us understand (and thus experience) the full depth of the relationship we have together with the Father, the Son and the Spirit, as we journey together with Jesus.

Conclusion

As we have seen today, the lessons about Epiphany in the Gospels do not conclude with the manifestation of Jesus. That appearing is a vital beginning of a process that leads to identification of Jesus and then a journey with Jesus that is full of faith-building, knowledge-expanding experiences that lead to life transformation. Each of us has been called to that journey. Each of us has an opportunity to share what we are learning on that journey with others.

So, hold on to your seats! What we will encounter as we journey with Jesus will be spiritually breathtaking as it expands into full fellowship—full koinonia (in the deepest sense of that word) with the Father, Jesus, and the Spirit! Enjoy the journey! Amen.

Scripture readings: Gen. 1:1-5; Ps. 29:1-11; 
Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11

Sermon by Sheila Graham 
from Acts 19:1-7 and Mark 1:4-5, 7-11

This Sunday (January 7) is the day after the Epiphany, which always occurs on January 6, the 12th day of Christmas. The first Sunday following the Epiphany (epiphany means revealing) typically focuses on one of two great events in the life of Jesus that revealed his identity: the Magi's visit and Jesus' baptism. The Gospel reading this Sunday is from Mark's account of the baptism.

Life in the Spirit

What does it mean to live in the Spirit? Some people say it’s about doing good works all the time. But that’s not it—many non-Christians do good works, and though God loves them and takes note of their good works, they don’t have the Spirit of God. On the other hand, there are Christians who, by definition, have the Spirit, yet live by cultural rules I might not agree with or have habits I don’t like.

I’m not sure I have the discernment to tell if someone has the gift of the Holy Spirit, at least not right away. To help us sort out this issue, let’s go to the account of a time when the apostle Paul knew right away that some people who called themselves disciples of Jesus didn’t have the Holy Spirit.

Paul’s third missionary journey included a three-year stay in Ephesus (c. A.D. 53-57). When he returned to Ephesus, he found 12 people who said they were believers in Jesus. But, Paul questioned their statement. The Bible doesn’t tell us why—perhaps it was something they said or didn’t say, or maybe even something they did.

While Apollos was in Corinth, Paul passed through the interior regions and came to Ephesus, where he found some disciples. He said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” They replied, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” Then he said, “Into what then were you baptized?” They answered, “Into John’s baptism.” Paul said, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus.” On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. When Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied—altogether there were about twelve of them.  (Acts 19:1-7, NRSV)

Though they called themselves believers, Paul discerned something was still missing. Paul knew true faith in Jesus depends on having received the Holy Spirit. So Paul wanted to know more about their baptism. They said they had learned about Jesus through John the Baptist’s teachings and baptism. Had they received the Holy Spirit when they were baptized? No, they said they had not even heard about the Holy Spirit.

John the Baptist’s baptism of repentance is mentioned in Mark’s account of Jesus’ baptism. But Jesus’ baptism experience was significantly different from John’s baptism of repentance. Here is what Mark wrote:

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins…. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. (Mark 1:4-5, NRSV; Mark 1:7-8, NRSV)

Though Paul realized these disciples in Ephesus knew about Jesus, they were more the followers of John the Baptist than of Jesus. Notice that Paul didn’t just accept their baptism and explain to them about the Holy Spirit. No, he went further—he laid hands on them and baptized them again, this time in the name of Jesus. Only then did they receive the gift of the Holy Spirit and begin their new life in Christ.

Paul probably didn’t consider this a rebaptism. This was the baptism that mattered, the baptism of Jesus, which included the affirmation of his Father and the Holy Spirit. When Jesus was baptized, the Father called him his Son and the Holy Spirit came to him like a dove. Let’s read that in Mark:

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11, NRSV)

It is the Spirit-filled baptism of Jesus that would make the real difference in the lives of these people. The same is true for us today. When we are baptized, we are sharing in the baptism of Jesus, which includes his receiving of the Holy Spirit on our behalf. It is our sharing in Jesus’ baptism in the Spirit that opens to us the close intimate relationship that we have with God and with people. Note what Anglican bishop and Christian professor N.T. Wright ways about this in his book, Simply Christian:

God offers us, by the Spirit, a fresh kind of relationship with himself—and, at the same time, a fresh kind of relationship with our neighbors and with the whole of creation. The renewal of human lives by the Spirit provides the energy through which damaged and fractured human relationships can be mended and healed.

What does it mean to “live in the Spirit”? We talk about it a lot. When we are in Christ, we live in the Spirit, not in the flesh. But our flesh is very real to us, isn’t it? We can give our arms a hard pinch and realize quickly we have flesh to deal with.

A Christian teacher described it this way: As she stood to speak, she would say, I’m now in the flesh. Afterward she would step over a bit and say, I’m now in the Spirit. Then she would give an example, perhaps when her husband did or said something she didn’t like. What should she do?

In the Spirit: it’s no big deal. If you correct him, he’s not going to like it, and it could affect your whole relationship today. Let it go. Forgive and forget.
Then she would step over in the flesh: But I’m upset and I want him to know I’m not happy. I don’t want him to get away with this.

In the Spirit: What kind of attitude is that? He’s your husband and you know you love him.

In the flesh: How will he know what I’m angry about if I don’t tell him? Besides, I’m kind of enjoying being mad!

Well, maybe this isn’t quite the way living in the Spirit while being in the flesh really works, but it sometimes comes close.

Let’s give some more examples. What about when someone cuts you off in traffic or is rude to you at work or gossips about you behind your back? Without the Spirit of God, we wouldn’t have these arguments with ourselves.

We often hear about road rage and its tragic consequences. People will shoot each other over parking spaces. It’s crazy.

We are called to live in the life of the Spirit, through Jesus our Lord. It may sound strange to us, but Jesus is fully God and yet also the perfect human. Sometimes we justify our bad actions by saying we’re “only human,” but that’s a fallacy. When we sin, that isn’t what true humanity is all about. When we live in the Spirit, through Jesus, we become more like Jesus and thus more truly human, not less. Jesus was the perfect human.

To sum it up, we cannot come to life in the Spirit on our own, and we can’t enjoy a close relationship with God on our own. Those 12 people in Ephesus had repented and were baptized, but Paul realized something important was missing—the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Karl Barth put it this way:

When it happens that man obtains that freedom of becoming a hearer, a responsible, grateful, hopeful person, this is not because of an act of the human spirit, but solely because of the act of the Holy Spirit. So this is, in other words, a gift of God. It has to do with a new birth, with the Holy Spirit. (“Dogmatic in Outline,” chapter 21, last paragraph)

Yes, it’s a new birth—born again in the Spirit. And, as mentioned before, our new birth is just the beginning. We must be careful not to think that once we are baptized, God the Father, Jesus and the Holy Spirit have done their part in our lives. Our sins are forgiven, we are saved, that’s it. Got to be careful now, we’re on our own.

No, God continues to work in our lives through the Holy Spirit. He won’t leave us to struggle on our own. This is what sanctification means.

We have been given the gift of freedom in Christ. As someone once said, Jesus didn’t just wipe the slate clean, he broke it up into pieces and threw it away. Living by the Spirit through Jesus our Lord means the law is written on our hearts. Our stony hearts have been softened. God isn’t making lists on whether we’re naughty or nice; he’s working with us every day to bring us into closer relationship with him.

We don’t have to worry about measuring up anymore. Through the gift of the Holy Spirit we have real freedom—freedom from sin and guilt and shame, freedom to get our minds off ourselves and to love God and to be concerned about others. That’s what living in the Spirit is all about, and that is very good news!