#lovematters (1 John 4:16-21)

We live in the age of the hashtag.  Even if you abstain from social media, you are constantly bombarded by sound bites and slogans designed to convey not the truth, but some caricature of it.

Recent tragedies have generated a whole new set of competing slogans.  Black lives matter, we’re told.  All lives matter, others counter.  Supporters of law enforcement add that blue lives matter.  And of course many arguments are made over which of these slogans is most accurate, or most helpful as we seek to sort through declining trust in law enforcement and a spirit of racial injustice.

So which is it?  Black lives?  Blue lives?  All lives?  Frankly, I think we’re asking the wrong question if we’re debating whose life matters.  I think it’s a better question to ask: what does it mean to matter?  And to whom do we matter?  It’s like the old story of the carpenter and the watchmaker.  The carpenter says, “I need to hammer this nail,” so the watchmaker hands him a pocketwatch.  The carpenter drives the nail into the board, but the watch is now in pieces.  “Huh,” he observes, “this mustn’t be a very good watch.”  It’s absurd, of course, but why?  Because the watch isn’t meant for that purpose.  Understanding what it means to matter is a question of purpose, yet we as a culture decided long ago that we had no common purpose; we would remain a nation of individuals, each of us plotting our own course.  Yet without purpose there can be only brokenness.

What an opportunity for the gospel to shine.

THE CALL TO LOVE

We’ve been focusing on what it means to “abide,” using John’s writings as our guide.  Yesterday we noted that the surest starting point for abiding in Christ is to believe the fundamental nature of the gospel: that in Jesus God came to earth to pay our infinite debt so that we might experience fellowship in him.  But John’s first letter focuses not only on the facts of faith but also their results.  Abiding starts with faith in Christ, but it is made manifest in the love of Christ:

16 So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.17 By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world.18 There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.19 We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:16-19)

The starting point for Christian love is the love God has shown us.  Do you see how the gospel empowers us to love in a way religion never can?  Religious teachers can instruct their followers to love people, but the only thing this might produce is mechanical obedience.  Religion says: “Love others and God will love you.”  The gospel says: “God loves you, therefore you’re free to love others.”

THE DANGER OF ABSTRACTION

This is partly why empty religion can be so destructive.  If I embrace religion—apart from the grace of the gospel—then I may be tempted to think that God loves me because of my own goodness, my own achievements.  And once I start believing that, then I tend to compare others to myself.  Pretty soon, others start looking less worthy of my love because they don’t match my own standards.

John cautions against this, saying:

20 If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. 21 And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. (1 John 4:20-21)

Abiding is about loving others.  When John speaks of “brother,” he’s most likely referring to fellow followers of Christ.  But surely love for our neighbors (Mark 12:32) is an essential part of Christian obedience.

In a world driven by slogans, it’s so easy to get off the rails.  Love withers when we reduce human beings to mere abstractions.  What do I mean?  I’m talking about the way we label others as “thugs,” or “racists,” or “liberals.”  We shut down conversations because we don’t want to listen to what others have to say.  We ignore pleas for racial sensitivity because it sounds to us like liberal propaganda, and with enough digging we can prove that the facts on our side, by golly so isn’t it time to just move on?  We fail to love when we dig up dirt on shooting victims, feeling somehow assured that if we can learn that they were somehow guilty of other, lesser crimes, we can sleep better knowing that these men were “thugs” who contributed to their own ill fates.  We love our brothers—but we make sure we reserve our love for those without a rap sheet.  A world of cause and effect gives us comfort and assurance, because it means that I can have control over my fate so long as I cling to my moral record.

The gospel shatters this, because it tells me that I am so broken that the God of the universe had to die to save me.  And because Christ died for the wayward and the broken, the gospel gives me assurance that no one—not even those I might be tempted to label as a “liberal” or a “racist” or a “thug”—is beyond his reach.

THE URGENCY OF “GRACIOUS CONTENTION”

There is division in our nation like never before.  Now, more than ever, we need the Church, we need a community of men and women who abide in Christ and manifest this love in their interactions with others.

Now, I sense that some of you will be bothered by some of this, because surely, with all this division, not every side can be right and there are many voices and positions worthy of being challenged.  Indeed, the message of the cross runs counter to a cultural message of “empowerment.”  Christians are at odds with the world, and conflict is inevitable.

Love is not opposed to such conflict and such challenges.  To avoid disagreements is to relegate oneself to apathy rather than the bold love God showed us through Christ.  In his book Political Discipleship, Graham Ward of Manchester University suggested that what we need is a climate of “gracious contention,” meaning that we allow for the liberty to wrestle with important issues with an attitude of grace.  There is a world of difference between disagreeing and being disagreeable.  But love for our neighbor remains our guiding principle.  For while there may be no easy answers to our current crises, we can be confident that ultimately, eternally, love truly wins.

Abiding in belief (1 John 4)

Are you sure you’re saved?  All of us, I suspect, have asked ourselves this question at some time or another.  If you’re anything like me, you might have prayed the “sinner’s prayer” a few dozen times just to make sure that one of your salvations “took,” kinda like sending that sweater through the wash again just to be sure that stain’s out.

We’ve been talking this week about “abiding.”  Abiding means staying close to Jesus, to immerse ourselves in his character and his teaching.  So how can we be really sure we “abide?”

YOUR OWN PERSONAL JESUS

No one, not even the Beatles, will ever be more famous or more widely known than Jesus Christ.  He is the central figure of all human history.  Even our calendars are organized around the periods of “B.C” (“before Christ”) and “A.D.” (annulus Dei, the “year of our Lord”).

But who is this man?  What do we say about him?  As much as religion has been pushed to the corners and margins of our society, it’s a pretty safe bet that your friends and neighbors might echo many of the cultural assumptions that circulate about Jesus.  From the “Jesus fish” on your minivan to the “Jesus is my homeboy” t-shirts sold at Urban Outfitters, Jesus stands somewhere between fashion statement and cultural icon.  Rapper Kanye West famously appeared on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine with a crown of thorns, promoting his hit song “Jesus Walks.”

Years ago the question we were asking was: “Should we believe in Jesus or not?”  High-minded academics used to describe themselves standing at the edge of “an ugly broad ditch.”  On one side was the Christ of history.  On the other stood the Christ of faith.  They could believe in a historical man named Jesus, but…miracles?  Resurrection?  These proved too difficult to believe.  But today’s world has made the jump, it seems.  We’ve leapt across the ditch only to find ourselves in a hall of mirrors.  Everyone has “their own personal Jesus,” a personalized savior for a nation of rugged individuals. And so we find ourselves like the Roman guard of Oscar Wilde’s play about the life of Christ: “[Jesus] is everywhere,” he tells King Herod, “and we cannot find him.”

ABIDING AND BELIEF

We can’t possibly say enough about the similarities between our world and the ancient one. John was writing from the city of Ephesus.  But even the believers living in the city understood only the teachings of John the Baptist:

And it happened that while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul passed through the inland country and came to Ephesus. There he found some disciples. 2 And he said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?” And they said, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” 3 And he said, “Into what then were you baptized?” They said, “Into John’s baptism.” (Acts 19:1-3)

They had the part, not the whole.  Paul had to explain to them that John’s baptism only pointed toward someone greater—Jesus himself.  It was this sort of halfway-religious world that John found himself in, though John would see both Peter and Paul die while he carried on.  Perhaps motivated by this, perhaps urged on by friends, John penned a biography of Jesus that we now know as the gospel of John.  But John wrote other parts of our Bibles as well, such as the enigmatic book of Revelation and a series of letters we know as “1, 2, and 3 John.”

The first letter John wrote was about this exact topic.  The people in John’s world believed in Jesus, yes, but their image of Jesus was shaped by cultural forces and personal expectation.  If you read 1 John, you see that much of what John writes is a swirling meditation on the unity between proper belief and Christian conduct.

13 By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. 14 And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. 15 Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God. (1 John 4:13-15)

You’ll notice, of course, that John uses the same image here of “abiding” in Christ.  And what evidence does John give for knowing we abide?  Because we have the Spirit, he tells us; the same Spirit the believers that Paul had encountered didn’t even know about.  But John continues.  He emphasizes that proper belief in Jesus is the key to abiding.  To believe that Jesus is fully God and fully man—this is, according to John, the starting point of an abiding relationship with God.

Christianity is a religion of belief, not works.  We know this, and yet we may often feel tempted to think ourselves unworthy of God’s love because we lack the right credentials, or because we just don’t feel spiritual enough.  Maybe we even wrestle with repeated sins, feeling disqualified from active faith because we can never seem to get it right.  All of these things are worthy to address as we mature in our faith.  But they are not the measurements of our faith.  The assurance of our salvation is not the quality or quantity of our faith; it’s the object of our faith.  Understanding who Jesus is—that is, knowing him to be God in human skin—this is the essential foundation of our faith.  Why?  Because only God could go to the cross to offer an infinite sacrifice to pay our infinite debt, and God must do this as a human being to atone for the sin of Adam.

Faith produces confidence.  Theology—the act of studying and learning about God—isn’t just an exercise of ivory-tower academics.  It’s for all of us.  Just as food means more to those who are hungry, just as air means more to those who are choking, so does faith mean more to those who are doubting. For doubt is not the opposite of faith.  No, the opposite of faith is actually speculation, the art of bending the truth to fit our own private assumptions and felt needs.  Doubt is not the opposite of faith, but its absence.  And so in the darkness of our mind’s eye, Christ’s truth shines with clarity, with radiance, with beauty.

To flourish or wither (John 15)

I have a confession to make.  It won’t be easy; some of you will never forgive me for keeping so dark a secret.  But here goes: I kill plants.  Like, all plants.  I used to own a houseplant.  It died under my care.  I did all I could, but for the life of me (and the death of the plant…) I had no idea if I was overwatering or underwatering or if the poor thing really just wanted a cup of coffee or something.  A year or so ago my neighbors asked me to water their plants while they were on vacation.  I ended up praying that they would return soon because I was already starting to see some brown leaves emerging.  All of this would be perfectly understandable if you didn’t know that my first job out of college was working with plants (including in a greenhouse) for the USDA.  C’est la vie, or something like that.

Plants really have only one of two fates.  They thrive and flourish, or they wither and die.  There’s no real setting for “neutral,” at least not for very long.

Jesus seems to be saying something similar in his message to “abide.”  Yesterday we talked about how to “abide” in Christ means to be connected and committed to Jesus in a personal way.  Today I thought we’d take a personal look at the results of this.  Let’s revisit the passage, this time paying attention to the results of abiding (highlighted in bold) and the results of failing to abide (underlined):

 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. 2 Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. 3 Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. 6 If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. 9 As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. 10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. (John 15:1-11)

(On a side note, this is actually a good exercise for things such as family devotions, etc.—an easy way to practice the habit of simply observing the text)

If you focus on just the highlighted portions, you get a snapshot of the mature Christian life.  Abiding produces growth.  “Fruit” is a symbol for life, a life that begins with our walk with Christ and stretches onward into eternity.  And it is a life, Jesus tells us, that is marked by the fullness of joy.  Jesus even promises that an abiding person can expect answers to his prayers—though we should note that the condition is a heart that is truly abiding in Christ.

Negatively, look at the underlined portions.  I don’t think Jesus necessarily means a loss of salvation, though he certainly emphasizes a loss of fellowship, a loss of effectiveness, a loss of joy.

It’s cliché to say that our world suffers from a lack of devotion to God.  Devotion to self is a cancer that causes our nation to wither like a bundle of drying branches.  Our notion of “progress” is often a myth, and every news cycle, every election cycle proves that indeed, history truly does repeat itself, often transfigured into an uglier form than it was before.

The gospel makes no promises of our happiness, but it makes a powerful promise of lasting joy.  Imagine that—on the night before he was publicly tortured and killed, Jesus promises joy for those who abide in him.  The problems that flicker across our television and computer screens are not interruptions in our call to joy; they are reminders of the sheer necessity of joy.  “Abide in me,” Jesus asks us.  “Stay close…that’s where joy is found: fresh and wild and alive.”

 

 

Snipers, sirens, and “abiding” in a “peek-a-boo world” (John 15)

Pain is one of few things that grow when shared.

For the first time in human history, technology has given us front-row seats to some of the greatest human tragedies—death, injustice, and outrage broadcast live through social media services, only to be replayed endlessly in our 24-hour news cycle.  Police shootings.  Outrage.  Backlash.  It’s as if the pain overflows from our screens and etches into our hearts like an acid bath.

How do we process such images, such emotions, such stories?  What—if anything—do we tell our children?  Where lies the responsibility of God’s people in all of this confusion?

None of these questions have easy answers.  What I thought we might do this week is look at our scheduled passage in light of everything that’s happening in our nation.

 

THE TRUE VINE

John’s biography of Jesus splits into two basic parts.  The first half provides an overview of Jesus’ ministry, a period lasting at least three years.  But the second half focuses on the final week of Jesus’ life—from his arrival in Jerusalem to his death and resurrection.  Time slows down.  John offers us a glimpse of Jesus’ teachings in detail.  At the famous “last supper,” Jesus offers his disciples an extended speech of what life will be like as they carry on his mission here on earth.  It won’t be pretty, he seems to emphasize, but we can take comfort in claiming Christ as our source of strength.  In John 15, the disciples rise from the table and proceed to go to the garden to pray, and it’s in this movement that Jesus offers one of his most enduring lessons:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. 2 Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. 3 Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. 6 If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. 9 As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. 10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. (John 15:1-11)

The Hebrew scriptures contained numerous comparisons between Israel and the “vine” and related imagery—not always positively.  Jesus says here that he is the true Vine, the true source of life.  And this life is experienced by “abiding” (some translations might say “remaining”) in him.

 

OUR “PEEK-A-BOO WORLD”

Our world is not one prone to “abide” in much of anything.  No; our world is far more accustomed to what’s “trending” and what’s popular. More than twenty years ago, Neil Postman wrote a groundbreaking book called Amusing Ourselves to Death.  In it he described the modern era as a “peek-a-boo world:”

“where now this event, now that, pops into view for a moment, then vanishes again. It is a world without much coherence or sense; a world that does not ask us, indeed, does not permit us to do anything; a world that is, like the child’s game of peek-a-boo, entirely self-contained. But like peek-a-boo, it is also endlessly entertaining.”

We should find it all the more compelling that Postman wrote this years before the tyranny of the smart phone and the world of social media.

Perhaps we might feel Postman goes too far in describing this world as “entertaining,” but today’s digital age offers endless outlets for outrage but little room for lasting—and that’s the key word, here—lasting empathy.  It’s like the U2 lyric: “it’s true we are immune, when fact is fiction and TV reality.”

 

BEING “INTO” JESUS

The poet Wendell Berry once wrote that “sometimes you sink into a place, and sometimes a place sinks into you.”  A “peek-a-boo world” doesn’t offer much depth to sink into.   Sink into shallowness, and you hit bottom rather quickly.

Jesus’ command is to “abide.”  The Greek word meno most literally meant “to reside” or “to stay,” the way you might “abide” in your house.  But the word also seems to have a deeper meaning—a spatial metaphor, for you academics out there.  We do something similar in English, actually.  When learning a foreign language, we might say that a person learns more when they are “immersed” in that culture.  Or what about the way we talk about our hobbies, interests, or ideas?  We might say: “I’m really into the Orioles” or ask “Are you into politics at all?”  What do we mean by into?  Obviously it’s not literal.  It’s a powerful way of describing our close connection and identification.

To “abide” means being “into” Jesus, it means being immersed in his life and teachings.  It sounds so trivial to say it that way, but perhaps it’s because we’re so used to a culture of “contacts” that we’ve lost the art of true connection.

We can “abide” in the stories and sentiments expressed on the nightly news or the conversations that swirl around the water cooler.  If we sink into these conversations these ideas could very well sink into us.  We could quickly find ourselves struggling with anger, despair, and further division.

Or we could abide in Jesus.  We could stay close to Jesus.  I don’t mean to suggest that there are not immediate solutions to the problems we face, but I am confident that our ultimate source of peace and justice is found only in Christ.  The cross demonstrated Christ’s willingness to suffer and die next to broken sinners like you and me, and the empty tomb demonstrated God’s power over the most obstinate force in the universe—death itself.

Abide, Jesus says.  Stay close.

When we hear about “breaking footage…” Stay close.

When we learn of another victim… Stay close.

When others’ opinions stir our anger… Stay close.

When our children are looking for answers, we tell them to stay close to The Answer, the Alpha, Omega, the One who promises that when his name is exalted, he draws all men to himself.

Stay close.

Don’t Get Blown Away (Psalm 1)

view out TSF windowI have some wonderful distractions that my ADD eyes can see out my office window. Looking across the fields I can see Martin’s Elevator, watch trains go by on the CSX line, and even see how the traffic is moving on Interstate 81.

And I can also check out the weather to see if my new #1 enemy is at work. That is the wind. There are few bushes in the foreground and a maple tree beyond the side parking lot. They give me a sense of the wind movement here on the knoll where the church sits – one of the windiest places anywhere. Actually the church is on some of the highest ground locally, which is not immediately obvious at first glance.

I say the wind is my enemy now because of all of the cycling miles that I do. Even the cold only stops me once it goes under about 40 degrees. The wind is the real problem that makes it a rough experience in any temperature.

And in Psalm 1 that we have been looking at this week, the wind represents trials and troubles and judgment.

Psalm 1:4 – Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

6 For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.

Here we see the rooted life described in contrastive terms, comparing the strength of those rooted in righteousness like a tree with a strong foundation to the wicked who are like the chaff – all that extra stuff around the grain at the time of harvest.

While sitting in my office last week, I was able to look out my window at the wheat fields being harvested. I should have taken a picture at that time, as it was like a total dust storm with the chaff blowing away. Last year at the season of the harvest of this field (which we actually own and rent to the folks at Martin’s) I was biking back to the church from Cearfoss. And you could see it almost a mile away, it looked like a dark storm on the horizon.

Now, a week later, where is the grain that was harvested? It is saved in silos to be used. We can find it. But where is the chaff? It is gone … blown away … it cannot be found and is not wanted to be found.

These final verses look beyond even this life to the bigger picture of both this life and the next. There is a way of living that gives success in each, and a way of living that is the pathway to destruction.

The godly man’s roots are in God’s Word and connected to truth; the ungodly are rooted in what looks permanent – materialism and man’s philosophy – but proves to be weak in the end at the day of judgment.

The writer (likely David) brings back some of the verbs and nouns from the beginning, where the righteous stands, walks, sits…

Here, the wicked …

does not stand in the judgment. The righteous stands, though not in their own righteousness but rather in that of the Righteous One.

will not be seated in the assembly of the righteous. They don’t have a seat with God at the end of it all. So why would you want to regularly hang out with someone who doesn’t even have a ticket (other than to encourage them to receive the free ticket that is available for them)?

do not walk in the way of the righteous – a way that God oversees, guides and protects. They have their own way, described as a path to destruction. Jesus picked up this very theme of the two ways – of one that seems right to a man, while encouraging rather to choose the narrow path that leads to life.

So, be rooted!  Don’t get blown away by the wind.

There is a tendency I notice in ministry with every sermon, and that is to think or to say, “This today – this topic – this is the answer to it all.” Well, this Psalm 1 topic of rootedness is pretty close to being just that. There is a reason it is Psalm #1 and placed at the beginning of the Psalter, for it gives us the macro categories of life and of timeless truth. It’s not actually that complicated.

Where are Your Roots? (Psalm 1)

river treesAs we continue through the first of the Psalms, we have the seen the rooted life described in both negative and positive terms. Now we see it described pictorially, and it stands as the key verse to the Psalm.

Psalm 1:3 – That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers.

Much of the Holy Land is rather arid. The picture of vast regions of stone with green swaths through which streams travelled, dotted with isolated trees, would be a common one.

And though we live in an area where it (this year) seems to rain every day whether it really needs to or not, it is not always that way. And we know as well that trees growing alongside streams have an easier time, especially in drought conditions. Think about the beautiful views we see of stately trees growing along the Potomac, the Antietam or the Conococheague.

The picture is one of constant nourishment and steady health. This sort of tree is not dependent upon intermittent showers, and is therefore not susceptible to dry times. The roots do not need to stay close to the surface, but are able to go deeply into the soil, providing a better foundation for the tree in perilous times – when the winds of adversity come.

trees knocked down

This second tree pictured is from west of Hancock on a mountain several hundred feet above the surface of the Potomac River.  Note how minimal is the roots system for the size of the tree. It could not withstand the storm, nor did quite a number of others nearby. They look like dominoes knocked over in a recent storm that spawned tornadoes.

Beyond simply standing and looking good, the tree by the water produces fruit at the right time, in season. It is regular and dependable.

The picture is a beautiful one and as obvious for application as any in Scripture. Is your life, your roots, deeply embedded in the Scriptures, or do you depend upon occasional “showers of blessing” for your spiritual sustenance? If you are depending only upon the occasional sermon for biblical enrichment, you are going to have your “leaves” wither and your “roots” be insufficient foundations for the inevitable sorrows of life.

Are you able to be described like the tree by the water in terms of your life and service to others?  If not, it may be that an examination of the roots is in order more than a reflection upon the nature of the storm systems.

And beyond standing alone, there is greater strength in standing together. What is better: a tree by itself (even well-rooted) or a tree growing near others around it? With others trees and roots systems intertwined, there is mutual support. And so it is in the body of Christ and your regular connection to it. If you do not connect deeply in the church family, you are essentially being an independent tree – be it in a field or along a stream.

So how are your roots?

Delighting in Meditating (Psalm 1)

We probably too much have a picture of meditating as sitting on the floor with legs cross and fingers curled (for some reason I cannot imagine) in a sort of “OK” sign. Weird. I think this is called the “lotus position.” At this stage of life, I also think I’m physiologically disqualified from that particular contortion.

But you don’t need to do something so “Eastern mystical” to be in a position of meditation. You simply need to have your spiritual roots sunk into the Word of God on a regular basis.

Today we look at the second of four descriptions of the truly rooted person, noting from Psalm 1:2 the positive description of a person who is well-resourced by the Scriptures …

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.

Do you delight in meditating on God’s Word?  You find time for what you delight in and what you know you truly need. At some points of my life, I’ve delighted in the good benefit of an exercise program, but at other times I have not valued it highly enough. In both instances I have reaped the consequent gains and losses.

Speaking of both exercise and meditation, these have really come together for me over the past two years. As you hear me talk about cycling a lot, when I want to really think about things without the distraction of getting run over by a truck, I’ll go ride on a trail of some sort. And I have come off such rides with fully thought-out plans of action for various topics.

Your brain tends to meditate upon that which it has most recently been fed. The illustration I shared in the sermon Sunday about this relates to the classic book “Gone With the Wind.” I saw this past week that it was published 80 years ago. I read that in high school and have seen the movie a long time ago and remember parts of it. But if I re-read that book today, over the next week or two, when seeing certain sights, they would trigger something from my reading … like a large old mansion house, or an antique carriage, or a long formal dress, or any mention of the word “Scarlett” or “Rhett”.  Even the reason that this came to my mind illustratively is because it was already in my mind from the past week.

So also, if your mind is regularly being filled with Scripture – even reading a passage for the 50th time – it will be there when you see something that triggers your memory of it.  AND, it will be there for you in the time of crisis.

Recalling the story I opened with in the sermon and in yesterday’s devotional, the father of the girl said to me in the first moments after the incident, “You know, it hits me right now, you don’t have time to get ready for something like this, you either are ready or not.”

A few horrible and unexpected events are going to happen in all of our lives. One of them is rather permanent. The time to be ready is now.

Beyond that, for daily life, in the same way that we physically are what we eat – what we choose to nourish ourselves with, good or bad – we are spiritually what we feed upon for our thinking / our minds. What we think determines what we are and what we do and how we evaluate and live all of life. God designed us this way, and He has given us a resource to guide us into a life of success as we live in covenant relationship with him.

Consider this great passage given to Joshua as he took over leading the nation of Israel after the death of Moses …

7 “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

So how is your life of meditation? It doesn’t need to always be in a planned and quiet place. But you need to have a full tank of Scriptural resources to draw upon at the exact time it is needed. Most of the time the airbag in your dashboard is not very practical, though the day may come when you really appreciate that it is there as a resource in a moment of crisis. You get the idea.

The Rooted Life – There’s Just No Better Way to Go! (Psalm 1)

It is not our necessary intent each week to just give a review of the sermon as a sort of transcript of what was preached, though that would not be worthless, especially in the summer months when many are travelling. (And I gave you yesterday off because of the holiday). We regularly write here a mix of ideas verbally shared along with additional thoughts.

But today I will begin with the opening illustration from Sunday, since many people afterward asked about a detail that I failed to include in the end of the story (as it was not related to my main idea, but the omission left people hanging).

It was 34 years ago, the actual date being June 13, 1982. Having just graduated from Dallas Seminary, I was still working as the minister of music in a church in Dallas. Our morning services had ended and probably about 80-90% of the people had already gone home. My oldest son Nathan was a two-month old baby, and I had seen Diana hand him to one of the sweet teenage girls in our church – who wanted to hold him.

I went around the corner and down the hall toward my church office to gather my things, when there was a sudden, horrible crashing sound of broken glass … then people screaming and running toward the area around the corner of the hallway from which I had been only a moment ago.

Before I could also run to see what was happening, someone yelled to me as I was standing in the office doorway near the only phones in the building, to call 911 and get an ambulance – saying that a car had crashed into the church and hit Jane (the girl who I had just seen holding Nathan). Hesitating a second due to that thought, I collected myself and made the call … then going down the hall to the scene.

A car went out of control when pulling up to the door, hitting two of our teen girls exiting the church, shoving them both back through the double glass doors. One of them, however, had her leg pinned against the brick doorframe. Both were quite bloody from the sheets of glass that had fallen on them, and at the scene, things looked very bad for Jane in particular.

The ambulance took her to the hospital, and I spent some moments with her father – one of our best church servants and leaders – helping him gather things and get ready to go to the hospital as well. He was amazingly calm in the storm. As I was a young man then just beginning in ministry, this fellow who was about 12-15 years older had been very kind and encouraging to me personally. And he took several moments even then to reflect upon Scriptural truths that were sustaining him in the crisis, as he did throughout the day at the hospital.

The experience was a rude introduction to “official” ministry. That evening was the occasion of my ordination by the church into the gospel ministry. The theme of the day – both for the family and for the ordination – was that we do not know what a day may bring or what calamity may come into our lives or the lives of others close to us, or in our flock as shepherds. But in any event, we need to be rooted in the Lord and in his Word for the strength and resource to meet the challenge.

(As an additional note – the girl survived with only some minimal permanent damage to her ankle. And the driver of the car was the teenage son of the Senior Pastor of the church. Several years later, in the course of time and human affairs, he married the girl he almost killed!)

(And here is the additional note that I failed to include: the girl held Nathan briefly before handing him back to Diana and then immediately walking out the door. There was some flying glass around them, but the door frame stopped the car.)

In dozens and dozens of situations of church ministry over the intervening years – including even this past week, I have visited with people in the most dire and heart-breaking of situations – at the very scenes of tragedy and death and pain and loss – and seen an unnatural strength that undergirds people of faith and trust.

However, in more than a few other circumstances and situations, I have seen the pain overwhelm people – short-term and long-term – as others are unable to endure and move on from difficulties. Sometimes it results in a sort of depression, others with anger – perhaps even at God for not doing enough. Some others react with a sort of escapism and detachment, disappearing from connection with God and his people in the church family.

What makes the difference? Those with deep roots into God’s Word and interconnection with God’s people find their way through tragedy and pain over time through the strength and nourishment their roots provide. Those who do not make it cleanly to the other side demonstrate that the few roots they had were very shallow and insufficient.

In this series we are asking you to consider your own personal roots, and looking beyond that to how you can help others be rooted and nourished (watered) in the truth.

This week we look at one of the great passages that talk about roots – Psalm 1. We all want success in life, or stated in the words of this week’s title, a “Yield.”  But that can only come if we stay rooted, even through the winds and trials of life.

The Psalm begins by talking about the blessed life … “Blessed in the one…”  This term is one that speaks of a concept of happiness, related to contentment and peacefulness – a quiet pleasure that comes from deep perspective and satisfaction.

In the past I have preached on this sermon as describing the “truly happy person.”  But this week, let us in the theme of this series make the subject of this Psalm be called “the truly rooted person.”  We are describing the fruit, the yield, of a rooted life.

We will see these six verses describe the rooted person in four ways …

  • In negative terms (1)
  • In positive terms (2)
  • In pictorial terms (3)
  • In contrastive terms (4-6)

The rooted life described in negative terms … verse 1 …

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night

Let’s break down the first verse with these three categories …

3 Verbs… 3 Nouns … 3 People …
Walk Counsel (in step) Wicked
Stand Way Sinners
Sit Company (seat) Mockers (scoffers)

Verbs … There is an increasing involvement and commitment, from walking in a certain place to sitting down in a specific place.

Nouns … counsel = thinking / way = behaving / seat = belonging (note the progression).

People … wicked = no room for God / sinner = openly break God’s law / scoffer = mocker of God’s word and people.

So there is the progression from interest, to doing, to being fully at home in the fellowship of those who ridicule God.

A drift away from God and truth is not something that happens immediately, but is progressive over time. And a self-examination from time to time is a healthy discipline.

In any event, people who are away from God, be it from drifting or perhaps because they never really were connected, are simply not able to be truly blessed with a contented happiness even in the inevitable sorrows of life.

So, how are your roots? Where are your roots? Like the car commercial from that dealership in Frederick says about the “Fitz-Way” … there’s just no better way to go. That’s true of faith and life; there is no successful way other than being rooted in the Lord.

Don’t Worship the Worms – (1 Corinthians 3:18-23)

I will say that there are elements of the traditional church ministry that was a part of my childhood and early pastoral years that I liked and miss, thinking we’ve likely moved away from at least a few things that were good and healthy.

But there is one tradition that I am very, very glad to be beyond. That is the obligatory singing of the Doxology at the end of the service which gave walking time for the pastor to make his way to the central door at the rear of the auditorium for the hand-shaking of congregants as they exited.

In my New Jersey church, I had a cranky and eccentric elderly man who EVERY week sat on the center aisle about two rows from the back. As I walked past him to take my position at the door, he would reach into his pocket and pull out a wintergreen lifesaver for me. It often also contained pocket lint.

I attempted to make the event more about asking people passing by about things in their lives, rather than having the focus upon me or the sermon, etc. Yet at the same time I had to keep the line moving and not irritate those who wanted to get out, but who also felt an obligation to LIE say something to the pastor about his wonderful sermon.

Many of you will remember one of my famous professors from Dallas Seminary – Howie Hendricks – who was well-known around the country from Christian radio, Focus on the Family, Promise Keepers, etc.  He called this weekly ritual at the back door of a church “the ceremony of the worm.”  We might recall the phrase from the famous hymn that speaks of the death of Christ “for such a worm as I.”Slow_worm_closeup

The fact of the matter is that being rooted in Scriptural truth and the fruit that comes from it is about the message itself and not the deliverer of the message – no matter how gifted he is. The power is in the message, not the worm delivering it. To pedestalize (I just made up that word) preachers is sort of like being sent a million dollars from your grandfather on the other side of the country, but thinking little about thanking or honoring him while throwing a party for the mailman simply because he delivered the check!

But the Corinthians were doing this when they made a big deal about different public, upfront personalities around them. In these final words of chapter 3, Paul basically says, “Stop thinking you are so smart, knock off the fan clubbing, stop having a ceremony for the worm you like, and focus on God as the source.”

18 Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise. 19 For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight. As it is written: “He catches the wise in their craftiness”[from Job 5:13]; 20 and again, “The Lord knows that the thoughts of the wise are futile.”[from Ps. 94:11] 21 So then, no more boasting about human leaders! All things are yours, 22 whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas[Peter] or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, 23 and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God.

It really is all about God and his Word. The power is in the truth, quickened by the work of the Holy Spirit, merely delivered through the mouths of worms who only know anything or have any ability because God first gave it to them. So don’t be rooted in the ministry of people (especially preachers), but be rooted in the Word of God, trusting also that he will use you as an effective worm to help others.

So remember, at the end of the day, I’m a worm; you’re a worm!  Let’s make that our greeting to each other this Sunday (though not at the door!) … got it?  “Hi Randy, I’m a worm, you’re a worm.”