A Lord's Day Message for Sunday, April 10, 2011

(Message © by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, April 10, 2011)

 “Seven Who Encountered Jesus: (5) Lazarus, Mary, Martha and the Jews”

John 11:1-45 and Romans 8:6-11

“So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.’ But when Jesus heard it, he said, ‘this illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’” (John 11 4, 5)

Is there any among us who hasn’t had the experience of hearing our text for today and wishing we had been the one standing next to Jesus that day, hearing Jesus calling our loved one by name, commanding him or her to “come out,” and have our loved one come back to life? Oh, we might say we wouldn’t want our loved one back if he or she couldn’t be totally well, but if he or she could be full of health, what a joy that would be for us!

I have wished for the power of the Lord to say to my loved ones and, as your pastor, to your loved ones, “In the name of Jesus, come out!” But all of our experiences thus far give indication of the finality of our physical death. So far, there hasn’t been a “Lazarus” among our loved ones.

Church Swindoll quoted Joseph Bayly from the book The Last Thing We Talk About,

There are two fixed points in our lives: birth and death. Death is especially unbendable. One astute writer used these words to describe what we have all felt.

This frustrates us, especially in a time of scientific breakthrough and exploding knowledge, that we should be able to break out of earth’s environment and yet be stopped cold by death’s unyielding mystery.

An electroencephalogram may replace a mirror held before the mouth, autopsies may become more sophisticated, cosmetic embalming may take the place of pennies on the eyelids and canvas shrouds, but death continues to confront us with its bleak wall. Everything changes; death is changeless.

We may postpone it, we may tame its violence, but death is still there waiting for us. Death always waits. The door of the hearse is never closed.

Dairy farmers and sales executive live in death’s shadow, with Nobel Prize winners and prostitute, mother, infant, teen, and old man. The hearse stands waiting for the surgeon who transplants heart as well as the hopeful recipient, for the funeral director as well as the corpse he manipulates. Death spares no one.

This is very somber, and we know this. Somber and sobering, we know these things. This is all there is to life as we know it: Death – all there is, that is, unless Jesus stands among us. But, if Jesus stands among us, we may have more of a child-like view of death:

Alan, age 7, “God doesn’t tell you when you are going to die because he wants it to be a big surprise.”

Aaron, age 8, “The hospital is the place where people go on their way to heaven.”

Stephanie, age 9, “Doctors help you so you won’t die until you pay all their bills.”

Marsha, age 9, “When you die, you don’t have to do homework in heaven unless your teacher is there, too.”

Kevin, age 10, “I’m not afraid to die because I am a Boy Scout, and Boy Scouts are brave.”

Ralph, age 8, “When birds are ready to die, they just fly to heaven.”

What about adults? What do they say about death? What do some of our spiritual writers say?

St. Ambrose: “The foolish fear death as the greatest of evils, the wise desire it as a rest after labors and the end of ills.”

William Barclay: “When I die, I should like to slip out of the room without a fuss – for what matters is not what I am leaving, but where I am going.”

Dietrich Bonheoffer: “Death is the supreme festival on the road to freedom.”

John Bunyan: “Death is but a passage out of a prison into a palace.”

Dwight L. Moody: “This is my coronation day; I have been looking forward to it for years.”

James Dobson: “The final heartbeat for the Christian is not the mysterious conclusion to a meaningless existence. It is rather, the grand beginning to a life that will never end.”

St. Francis of Assisi: “It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

Abbe Henri de Trouville: “Death is the following of life, the consummation of union with God.”

George Whitefield: “Take care of your life and the Lord will take care of your death.”

Arthur Sherrington Wood: “My happiest moment will be when God puts his hand on my heart and stops it beating.”

It is interesting, isn’t it, that none of these great figures in the Christian faith said, “I wish Jesus would stand in front of my tomb after I die and tell me to ‘come out!’ No, each of these great figures in the Christian faith is ready for Jesus to stand in front of them and say, “Come home!” They are ready to hear and believe the words of the spiritual song,

Come home, come home,

you who are weary, come home.

Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,

Calling “O sinner, come home!”

This is what our text is all about: Jesus calling us home, not our hoping with the power and love of Jesus Christ that we or our loved one will be called back to this life from the grave! It is about believing in the One and only Person, Jesus Christ, who did die, but how was brought forth from the grave to live forever!

The salient question before all of us now is as it was asked of Martha, “Do you believe this?” “Do you believe, Martha, that I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” Do we believe this, my friends?

This passage from John 11:25-26 is one of the main, usual passages that we read at a funeral, but as I re-looked at my funeral liturgy book, I discovered that it was the third passage listed to read. What were the first two that, if they are listed in order of chronology or importance, are they foundations to our faith? Here they are; what do we think about these texts and their order?

First comes Psalm 124:8, “Our help is in the name of the Lord who made heaven and earth.”

Second comes Romans 6:3-5, “When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that, as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”

Third, then comes John 11:25-26, “I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”

But there are two more after these that are words of assurance and invitation, also.

First, the assurance from Revelation 21 and John 14:19, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last. I was dead and behold I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and Hades. Because I live, you also will live.”

Then the invitation from Matthew 11:28, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give your rest,” invites Jesus the Christ, Jesus is the Son of God, Jesus the Good Shepherd, Jesus our Savior.

But, going back to our text for today, did you notice? Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life…” He didn’t say, “I will be” or “As soon as I die, I am going to be…” No, Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

In John’s Gospel, “Eternal Life” is now. Into the world of sin and death, a Savior has come. John writes at the very beginning of his Gospel, “The Word has become flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” Heaven has come down to earth. In the midst of death, there is life, because Jesus is the Lord of life. Even though, in this part of the Gospel, Jesus is on his way to the cross, he won’t let the forces of evil and death determine his direction or his life. In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ death is spoken of as his “hour of glory.” One has commented, “Jesus’ strange, upside-down way of looking at things, death and glory are linked. As he told Mary and Martha, Lazarus’ illness and this whole thing, in fact his whole earthly ministry that led to his cross, is “for God’s glory, “so that Jesus might be thereby “glorified through it.”

You know, when we or someone we love are on the way to “Glory Land,” if we will, God is usually glorified through us because of our faith in Jesus. First of all, “Since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died…so we may not grieve as those who have no hope.”

When we pray here in the Sanctuary or at our table at home or at the bedside of our loved one, we pray in Jesus’ name as people with hope that God will heal as God has healed before. But then we can faithfully say at the end of the prayer what Jesus said in the midst of his, “Nevertheless, Lord, not my will but Thine be done.”

We all know in our hearts that there is very often healing for what ails us in this life. But we also know in our hearts that sometimes there is the perfect healing, the healing unto eternal life with the Lord.

Have we ever noticed that Jesus so rarely prayed for sick people? If we look at the Lord’s Prayer that Jesus taught his disciples to pray, we will find Jesus praying for forgiveness, for daily bread, for the coming kingdom, but he doesn’t mention sickness, nor does he  mention death, either.

Sickness, sudden accidents, even “living,” all of the things that result in death are the great challenges in life. But Jesus says, “Come with me, come on towards the death you are avoiding, lay your life into the hands of the living and loving God, let God give you the life that you cannot earn for yourself. In facing your death with me, in walking the way to the cross that I walk, you shall have eternal life, life, and that abundantly, but first, we have to go out to the cemetery.

As I wrote this, I was reminded of my own illnesses about a year and a half ago; my pneumonia where I was septic and my blood clot which filled my right leg. Turns out I should have stopped at the nearest hospital somewhere between Challis, Idaho, and here. Doc said that I only had about 24 more hours to get help for my sepsis, and then it might have been too late to help me.

Doc also said, when I presented him with my blood clot, that he had to put me in the hospital, because if the clot broke loose, no one could get to me fast enough.

What is interesting to me are my reactions to both. Yes, I could have stopped at a hospital in several good-sized towns along the way home from Idaho, but what if I had had to stay there? I would have been there alone; I really wanted to be near loved ones, so I drove on home.

But when I was in the hospital here with my clot, I was very much at peace, so much so that my Martha got upset and made me think. She said, “You absolutely don’t understand the seriousness of your situation. You very much could die, and you are acting as if nothing is happening!”

I have thought about these things and have decided that I didn’t want to be alone between here and Idaho, but I did have the comfort of loving, caring people around me here. I really did believe and know that whether I lived or died, I belonged to the Lord. What more does a person need this side of heaven and that side of earth: People who love, first of all, and then a God who loves us so much that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.”

Jesus, the Resurrection and the Life; Our only true comfort in life and in death. Amen.

A Lord's Day Message for April 3, 2011

(Message © by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, April 3, 2011)

“Seven Who Encountered Jesus: (4) The Man Born Blind”

Ephesians 5:8-14 and John 9:1-41

“His disciples asked him, ‘Who sinned, this man or his parents, the he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.’” (John 9:2-3)

Where we left Jesus and the disciples last week, the men and women from Sychar were going out to see the man who had changed the town’s “woman of shame” into a “woman of forgiveness.” The last statement made in the text about this day in the life of sinners was said to the woman: “it is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world!”

I made the comment that it seemed that the disciples were also beginning to “get it,” because they didn’t question Jesus about going through Samaria in the first place, didn’t ask any questions when they came back to the well and found Jesus with the woman, nor had anything to say when Jesus taught them right then and there about how “the fields were ripe for a spiritual harvest.”

So, we could assume that the disciples would be really moving along in their faith. Apparently, this is not so, because just five chapters later, we get the recollection of the day Jesus and the disciples were walking along and encountered “the man born blind.” If we remember what the woman at the well said about worship and what Jesus said in return can be applied here.

The woman, drawing on her history, said, “Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus responded with, “You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him.”

The key phrase here is “you worship what you do not know; we worship what we know.”

Now, let’s get back to today’s story. The disciples thought they knew what to ask Jesus as they were walking along that day in Jerusalem. They wanted a theological answer to a physical question. They wanted to be able to put into a nice little box and tie up with a bow, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, the he was born blind?”

Perhaps this is the first question we ask when a baby comes out handicapped, or is diagnosed “Down’s Syndrome,” or “Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.” “Who sinned?” “What happened”? “Who screwed up?” “Who do I sue?”

I will always appreciate Dr. Ruff here in town when Peter was finally diagnosed with his malady. You know that all along we thought that Peter was ADHD. We thought all along that Peter just need more discipline. And, actually as we were considering whether or not Peter may have a gene that would make him amoral – inhibit his ability to know right from wrong – we discovered his chromosomal defect that is put under the title of “Klienfelter’s Syndrome.”

This is not an “amoral gene.” It is a genetic issue that causes delayed development, super height, a large girth, and possible sterility. As Peter has aged, he has been able to mature, has been able to begin making good and wise choices, has been able to be more of the son parents would like to have, a “normal kid,” if you will.

But applicable to today’s text is what Dr. Ruff said as soon as he received the results back from the genetic testing, and even before we asked, although we were probably thinking it. Dr. Ruff said, “Please do not blame yourselves for Peter’s genetic disorder. We aren’t sure why the genes came together like they did, but we are pretty sure that neither of you are at fault. Don’t spend time trying to figure out the cause or who to blame. Spend your time and energy on raising your son as best you can.”

We could sit around all day trying to answer the question the disciples asked Jesus: “Who sinned; this man or his parents?” “Who sinned; Peter or Larry or Martha?” But Dr. Ruff and Jesus said, “That’s not a question that needs to be asked. Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born the way he was so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”

In the blind man’s story then, Jesus spit on the ground, made mud, placed it on the man’s eyes, told him to go wash in the Pool of Siloam (which means, “He who has been sent”). “Then he washed and came back able to see.”

In Peter’s story, we have worked with the school, the Southwest Dubois Community Schools Coop, the doctors, the counselors, and SIRS and the BDDS to get Peter where he is today. He is a good and valued employee at Pizza Hut. He has been hired to work at the new Wendy’s in Dale. He is going to fill out apps in other places for a full time position. People really like him at the Hut and other places.

Even my mother, who really couldn’t stand to be around him, is now complimenting him on how nice, polite, helpful and funny he is. All the folks at my mother’s retirement place like him. Peter can never be healed from Klienfelter’s, unless Jesus comes along and changes his chromosomal make-up. But Peter can be brought along to enjoy a good life, even a productive life.

That is, unless like the man born blind but who now sees, we keep dwelling on trying to figure things out, especially keep trying to figure out the sin involved. Jesus sees a blind man and thinks about healing him. Jesus’ disciples (and us) also see the blind man and immediately begin a theological discussion with, “Who sinned?”

You see, it is our human thinking side that would have us try to explain sadness and tragedy – we want the rational explanation. If God is good and righteous, then if there is bad, then the bad must be punishment for our badness, right?

When Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast four years ago, a State Senator from Alabama said that it hit where it did because Mississippi and Louisiana had legalized gambling, that God had sent the hurricane to punish those states for their sin.

A preacher in Alabama retorted, “Well, if the Lord was aiming for those casinos, then the Lord needs to improve his aim. The hurricane took out about eight casinos and nearly a hundred Methodist Churches!”

At least in today’s Gospel, Jesus won’t make a direct correlation between sin and a person’s circumstances in life – at least this isn’t what is important to Jesus. What is important to Jesus (and to us) is what he and we are going to do with it and about it. The thing is, unless we are believers in Jesus Christ, we will dwell on the sin, rather than seeing what we can do with the life. If we are believers in Jesus Christ, we will do what Jesus said to do: “Give thanks that God’s works are being revealed!”

I don’t know how much any of us know about the Alcoholics Anonymous program or any of the other 12-step programs that take their foundation from A.A., and that take it all from the Bible, really, but the one thing I have always thought was missing from the 12-step program was a “Celebration Step.”

Now, I have been by the AA meeting that meets here; I have been around other AA meetings that have met in other churches I have pastored. I hear them applauding each other’s testimonies. I hear them applauding a new milestone in their soberness – 30 days, six months, 5 years, etc. But I would think that celebrating one’s sobriety would be one of the 12 steps. Rather it seems that the person going through AA always remains beaten down, sometimes seems to be going through life feeling worthless rather than worthwhile – especially worthwhile as a child of God.

But, I guess, maybe our root problem is thinking too much of ourselves – such as the Pharisees were literally too full of themselves – rather than thinking little enough of ourselves. When we are so quick to judge, so quick to find fault, so quick to discard, so unwilling to even recognize that “there for the grace of God go I,” we are too full of ourselves and not full enough of Jesus Christ.

I don’t really need to remind us we ought to be feeling the empty pangs in our souls today. This is the first Sunday of the month when we would usually be celebrating the Holy Meal, Holy Communion. We haven’t had the bread and the cup to eat and drink for a month now. But we are in the midst of Lent, the “Season of Sin,” This is the season we are encouraged to spend forty days for honest meditation upon our sin, looking forward to Resurrection Day once again, when we can breathe a sigh of relief that we don’t have to live in our sin forever, that we are forgiven because of our faith in the grace of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Let me suggest that the twelve steps of AA are useful for us to use as we meditate during Lent:

Step one, we admit that we are powerless over our own lives, over any sin; "the things we want to do righteously we cannot do, and the things we don’t want to do we do – and there is no health in us," says Paul.

Step two, we do believe that a Power greater than ourselves can restore our lives to living and being righteous. This Power is God, with the Holy Spirit being God’s power in us.

Step three, we make the decision, as tough as it is, to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understand Him. We may not all understand God the same, but when we believe that there is a Higher Power named God who can handle all, we can make the decision to turn our will over to God.

Step four, we make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. What often happens, though, is we look at the splinter in another’s eye and not see the log in our own. Besides, it is scary and hurtful when we do give credence to the log. We’d much rather ignore it.

Step five, we admit to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. Being Presbyterians, we do try to do this. We have our Prayers of Confession; we have our opportunities to not ignore the things that are wrong in our lives. We can admit the things that are wrong. We can admit them and be healed from them.

Step six, we can be entirely ready to have God remove all our defects of character. It is interesting that step six just says, “We are ready to have God remove our defects of character.” Here is where the “yeah, buts…” come in. We may know our failures; we may feel that we want to get rid of them; but we have to get to the point that we want to get rid of them.

Step seven, has us humbly asking God to remove our shortcomings. And, what are we promised in Scripture? I John 1: 8-9 says, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth in not in us. But if we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” In humility and faith let us confess our sin to God, then.

Step eight, is to make a list of all the people we have harmed and become willing to make amends to them all. Again, we make this list without the “yeah, but…” Be ready to admit that careless word, that crass comment, that unavailability, that embarrassment you caused. Be ready to admit all of them.

Step nine, go do it! Go, make amends to such people wherever possible, except where to do so would injure them or others. Matthew 5:23 says, “When you are offering your gifts at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift…When you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, first be reconciled to them.”

Step ten, keep on practicing steps 8 and 9 constantly.

Step eleven, seek through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. Can we ask for any more than to know God’s will and carry it out?

Step twelve, having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we try to carry this message to all others and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

As I reminded us earlier, this is the season of Lent. But rather than being dour and somber, it can we a very joyful season. We are sinners, to be sure, but in Christ something decisive and wonderful is being done to heal our sinful state. Martin Luther said that we ought to confess our sin and throw a mantle of charity over the sins of others!

So, during Lent our time is best spent not in theorizing about sin, nor by zealously rooting our the sins of others, but rather in humbly confessing our own sin – perhaps the way we callously walk past those in need on our way to church to worship a God who reaches out in mercy to those in need, the way we can always see the sin of others more clearly that our own sin, the way we get confused into thinking that Jesus is among us as a judge and jury rather than as a Savior and healer. Lent ought to be a time not so much for prophetic, searing honesty about sin, but rather for modesty and for celebration of our God who comes to us and heals us in love, despite our sin.

Praise God! Hallelujah! Amen.

A Lord's Day Message for Sunday, March 6, 2011

(© by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, March 6, 2011)

“7 Churches: Brickbats and Bouquets”

“7. God’s Message to Laodicea: The Delusion of Self-Sufficiency; the Solution of Christ-Sufficiency”

Revelation 3:14-22 and Luke 16:19-31

“For you say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.’ You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked.” (Revelation 3:17)

And Jesus said, “Ptui!”

We preachers are encouraged to begin our sermons with a vivid, attention-grabbing illustration. I know of none more attention-getting than, “And Jesus said, “Ptui! I know your works; you are neither hot nor cold. So, because you are lukewarm and neither hot nor cold, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. For you say, ‘I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.’ You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked. Ptui!”

Lest you think I exaggerate Jesus’ words here, rest assured this is exactly what he meant: “Ptui.”

As we know from Jesus’ teachings while he was on earth and from his letters to the other 6 churches to which he had letters written, Jesus uses common, everyday illustrations to make his point. The “Ptui” is no exception.

The physical problem that the town of Laodicea had was that they had absolutely lousy water. They didn’t have any wells of their own, either by choice or necessity, but they had built an aqueduct six miles long to bring water in from the town of Hierapolis. The water came either from hot springs and was cooled to lukewarm or came from a cool source and warmed up in the aqueduct on the way.[1] My guess is that especially if it came from the hot springs is that it had a very high sulfur content and smelled and tasted like rotten eggs. We can imagine what it would be like to smell and taste tepid, rotten egg water. (And we think it is bad when Patoka Lake turns over!) Ptui!

Do you think this example would get the attention of the members of the LCC, the Laodicea Christian Church? Something had to, and this was the strongest example Jesus could use. If we look back at the other six churches Jesus had John write to, no letter was as strong as this.

To the church at Ephesus, the letter was about returning to their first love. To the church at Smyrna, the letter spoke of being spiritually rich in their economic poverty and standing firm in their trials. To the church of Pergamum, the letter was about expelling those in the church who were falsely teaching heresy. To the church at Thyatira, the letter was about expelling from the church “a Jezebel” who had been teaching satanic stuff. To the church at Sardis, the letter was about waking up and being an alive church once again. To the church at Philadelphia, the letter was about going out through the “open door” that God had given them and evangelizing in the name of Jesus.

As direct as these letters were, none was as harsh as being compared to the tepid, stinking water that would cause a person to vomit, that they were forced to drink. Why would Jesus dictate such a letter to church people? Listen to this:

These Christians have become lukewarm because they perceived virtues within themselves, and because of that confident self-understanding, they were blinded to the steady deterioration that had already turned them into hollow shells reaching out to hollow shells. Here is the tragedy of a person who has gone soft and indolent by overestimating his or her wealth far too long. It is the person who has always intended to get started and was certain that time was on his or her mind. . . What we have in this poetic description is the raw material of human decadence and the tragedy of adriftedness. It is like the inner deception of the chemical assault on the brain, so that by imperceptible inches a man or woman is robbed of a clear mind and vigorous imagination, while all the time self-assured that cocaine or marijuana or alcohol was enhancing perception, feeling and well-being.[2]

Basically, they had been deluding themselves that all was well – and it was physically and financially. They had everything money could buy. They were a wealthy church in a wealthy town. Interestingly, while they had terrible water, they were located in a fertile valley. (Were they too lazy to dig their own well?) Laodicea was an important town for trade and communication. The great Roman road ran through it from Ephesus on the coast to inland Asia to the east. They produced a famous, glossy, black wool – whether dyed or natural in color. They had a famous school of medicine and developed special eye and ear ointment. They had a market place where all sorts of goods from all over were traded and sold. The city’s banking assets were so large that Cicero (a Roman philosopher, statesman, lawyer, political theorist and Roman constitutionalist, who came from a wealthy family) used to cash his huge bank drafts there. The town was so wealthy that after the earthquake of A.D. 17, they refused physical and financial bailout money from Rome to rebuild, saying instead, “We can do it ourselves.”[3] Therein lay the problem: They were too much into themselves. They were quite content, thank you, just “going along to get along.” The church was like the town: Just going along to get along.

One commentator notes “that Laodicea is difficult to describe because no one thing stands out. There were no excesses or notable achievements to describe it. It was a city with a people who had learned to compromise and accommodate themselves to the needs and wishes of others.[4] They did not zealously stand for anything.[5]

This is what displeased the Lord so much and caused him to say “Ptui!” And, the Lord’s verdict is the exact opposite of the Laodicean church’s evaluation of themselves. But, “they were useless to Jesus because they were complacent, self-satisfied, and indifferent to the real issues of faith in Christ and of discipleship.”[6]

So, Jesus reduces his plea to the LCC to three words the members could understand: “Buy from me…buy from me.” Remember that Laodicea had an international marketplace where a person could buy anything they wanted from goods produced locally to good brought in from afar. Jesus put his faith in himself and discipleship into this context, put faith in himself and discipleship “up for sale,” if we will.

(You know, it saddens me greatly that Jesus seemingly has to reduce what is so valuable, so pure, so special, down to what the people can comprehend and understand. But he does this all the time, doesn’t he?)

Gold, a source of the wealthy of the city, was to be bought from Christ and to become the spiritually poverty-strickened’s true wealth. Their shameful nakedness was to be clothed, not by purchasing the sleek, black wool of Laodicea, but by buying from Christ the white clothing that alone can cover shameful nakedness. For those who were blind to their true condition, the “Phrygian powder” was useless. They needed to buy salve from Christ so that they could truly see.[7]

These three “products” that the members of the LCC needed to “buy” with the currency of their souls were all “ingredients” of what would be a true salvation for their souls.

To adapt for our days what another writer has said about those days,

the only cure for spiritually poverty-stricken disciples is to purchase from Christ gold which is refined in the agonies of the shared passion. For our nakedness the only recourse is to buy such clothes as the naked Christ had worn on the cross. The blindness of self-deception can be cured only by understanding the correlation between Christ’s love and his discipline. These three purchases constitute a substantial definition of the kind of zeal and repentance which is the burned of all John’s prophecies in the letters dictated through him. The thrust of these commands moves in the direction of rigorous warning. They are tantamount to saying, “Open your eyes” and “Carry your cross.”[8]

Again, these three “products” all point to our need of authentic salvation through Christ.[9]

Have we taken stock of the condition of our faith lately? Do we have enough of Jesus’ refined gold? Does the white robe that only Jesus can offer still fit and is it still clean, white, and pure? Are our eyes open to seeing our true, earthly condition: Wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked, who but for Jesus’ love for us are as condemned to Hades as was the one we read about from Luke’s gospel today?

You may say, “But, Pastor, don’t speak of us this way. We aren’t like those we see on the news in the slums of India or the refugee camps of Egypt or in the bombed-out villages of Libya. We live in Jasper, America.

Ah, yes, we do, so how is our spiritual condition? Is it pure with Christ? Do we wear it so others can tell? Do we see areas we need more spirituality and more faith? How can we become better disciples of Jesus, rather than just hearing the same stuff over again, only in a little different way?

Jesus' invitation to the Laodiceans is his invitation to us who seek spiritual food along with all our physical and mental blessings. “It is an invitation to the most important, main meal of the day. It is the meal to which one would dine with one’s most intimate, closest of friends.”[10] This wasn’t a quick lunch at McDonalds or Subway or even Shoney’s. Picture in your mind’s eye where you would go for a peaceful, long-lasting, well-attended to, scrumptious meal with the one you love or with your most intimate friends. This is the invitation Jesus is offering. His invitation reads:

“Behold, I stand at the door and Knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and dine with them and they with me.”

You know, I don’t know the condition of your souls. It isn’t for me to judge or even guess. I can really only judge mine, and I know that my soul gets awfully hungry for Jesus. I know I could stand Christ’s meal every Sunday. I know I will get hungry for him during Lent when we fast from his meal. I know I need other spiritual things to feed upon during Lent to feel Jesus’ presence with me. So, would we, first of all, really savor this meal we are having today and the one we will have Wednesday evening, then each of us make a solemn promise to the Lord that we will seek to become so much more rich in our souls over the next weeks of Lent, until we feast with Jesus again on Maundy Thursday?

Jesus said, “I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich; and white robes to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen; and salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see.”

Let our next hymn be our response to Jesus’ invitation:

Open my eyes that I may see

Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me.

Place in my hand that wonderful key

That shall unclasp and set me free.

Silently now, I wait for Thee

Ready my God, Thy will to see.

Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine.

Open my ears and let me hear

Voices of truth Thou sendest clear;

And while the wave notes fall on my ears,

Everything false will disappear.

Silently now, I wait for Thee

Ready my God, Thy will to see.

Open my ears, illumine me, Spirit divine.

Open my mouth and let me bear

Gladly the warm truth everywhere;

Open my heart and let me prepare

Love with Thy children thus to share.

Silently now, I wait for Thee

Ready my God, Thy will to see.

Open my heart, illumine me, Spirit divine.

(Public Domain)

Amen.

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[1] Alan Johnson, Revelation, (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary. Frank, Gaebelein, Gen. Ed: Zondervin Publishing House, Grand Rapids, MI, 1981). P. 457

[2] Earl Palmer, Revelation, (The Communicator’s Commentary, Lloyd J. Oglivie, Gen. Ed.: Word Publishing Co., Waco, TX, 1982). P. 154

[3] Johnson, op. cit., p. 456

[4] Johnson, op. cit., p. 456, quoting Ramsay, Seven Churches, p. 417

[5] Johnson, ibid.

[6] Johnson, ibid, p. 457

[7] Johnson, ibid, p. 458

[8] Minear, I Saw a New Earth, p. 57, as quoted by Johnson, op.cit., p. 459

[9] Johnson, op.cit., p. 459

[10] Johnson, ibid., p. 459

A Lord's Day Message for Sunday, March 27, 2011

( © by Rev. Larry A. Langer, First Presbyterian Church, Jasper, IN, March 27, 2011)

“Seven Who Encountered Jesus: (3) the Woman at the Well”

John 4:1-42 and Psalm 95

“But Jesus had to go through Samaria…A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (John 4:4, 7)

Our sermon today begins with “hatred.” We wouldn’t expect a sermon to begin with such, would we? We expect all of our sermons to begin with at least the premise of love, then conclude with the actuality of love, the love of God in Jesus Christ and our love for our neighbors.

But today’s sermon begins with hatred. It is a hatred between the Jews and the Samaritans. It had been going on for about seven and a half centuries, since 722 B.C. Without going into the detail of the “two kingdoms” of the Jews, the Northern and the Southern, let us be satisfied that when the Northern Kingdom fell in 722 B.C., the Jewish survivors intermarried with those described as “heathen colonists brought in from Babylonia by the Assyrian conquerors.”[1]

So, if we remember our teaching from the Torah, the first five books of the bible, one of the requirements God had for the Jewish nation to be strong and for a Jew to be a good Jew, was that they would always marry a Jew and never marry anyone who wasn’t a Jew. So, to a “good Jew,” one who tried to “live by the rules,” these Samaritans were looked upon as “unclean traitors to Jewish blood.”[2]

Furthermore, the Samaritans were confused, even heretical in their religious beliefs. Even though they earlier worshipped many gods caused by the strangers bringing in their own gods, they did begin worshipping “Jehovah,” but only accepted the first five books of the Bible, cutting off the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures.[3]

Plus, they hated the Jews! They had offered to help rebuild the temple in Jerusalem after the Jews returned from Babylonian exile – and were refused. It made the Samaritans bitter. And, as we know (and hear in the dialogue between Jesus and the woman at the well) the Jews say that the true place to worship God is in the temple in Jerusalem. The Samaritans adamantly refused, though, and said that their place of worship was in their own temple on Mount Gerizim in Samaria, which had been built about 400 B.C.

Then, when the Jews burned this temple at Mount Gerizim in 128 B.C. because they said it was “heretical,” the relationship between the “good and right Jews” and the Samaritans deteriorated even further!

Samaritans, in turn, would on occasion even stop and detain “Jews” traveling though the territory of Samaria. So, the “good” Jews would add hours to their trip traveling from Galilee to Jerusalem going around Samaria, rather than take the high road straight through Samaria. Says one commentator, “Little wonder then that a Jew would attempt to avoid any contact with these unclean dogs.”[4]

Let’s pause for a moment and think about whom we avoid at any and all costs and why we avoid them. Who do we laugh and sneer at and think, “I am certainly glad I am not like them!” Who would it concern us if our child married “someone different”? Did the person our child married concern us, especially to the point of hatred?

I mean, really, every last one of us has someone or some group of people or some absolute prejudice that causes us to harbor and exhibit feelings of hatred. And you know we all have heard the great prejudicial “but,” even from “good” church people: “I know I am supposed to love everyone, but…”

There are people we won‘t talk to, have business dealings with, eat at the same restaurant with, shop in the same store with, speak with if they move in next door, treat them for a physical ailment, accept them in the pulpit, or even if they somehow become a relative of ours.

There are people we hate! And we might not even have the same reasons as the ones between the Jews and the Samaritans: Not worshipping God and God alone; not accepting help when it is offered; and ruining something we hold dear (like when the Jews burned the Samaritan temple, for example).

Is it any wonder, then, that the text says in verse 4, seven little words, “But Jesus had to go through Samaria…But Jesus had to go through Samaria.” Remember, Jesus and the disciples could have taken the longer way around, but now, “Jesus had to go through Samaria.” The New International Version of the Bible says, “But Jesus needed to go through Samaria.”

One commentator writes:

What a world of meaning there is in that phrase! He did not need to save the three days He could gain by passing through this ill-regarded province rather than crossing the river and going up the eastern desert route. There did not seem to be urgent needs in Galilee that would cause Him to shorten the journey.

No, there is a deeper reason, an inner constraint of love and obedience. He knew the ignorance and spiritual hunger of the Samaritan people, and the Father had sent him into the whole world – not just part of it. He (simply) could not avoid these people in spite of the long history of resentment and antagonism between Jews and Samaritans.[5]

“Jesus had to go through Samaria.”

What runs through our minds – or rather who runs through our minds – as we think of this verse? Where does the Lord say we have to go? To whom does the Lord say we have to go?

We all know the hymn; we sing it, but do we do it?

It may not be on a mountain height

Or over the stormy sea;

It may not be at the battle’s front

My Lord will have need of me.

But if by a still, small voice He calls

To paths that I do not know,

I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in Thine,

“I’ll go where You want me to go.”

(That verse is relatively easy; I think that is what any of us would say. Verse two is a bit tougher.)

Perhaps today there are loving words

Which Jesus would have me speak;

There may be now, in the paths of sin,

Some wanderer whom I should seek.

O Savior, if thou wilt be my Guide,

Tho’ dark and rugged the way,

My voice shall echo the message sweet.

I’ll say what you want me to say.

(And then the refrain, which perhaps you can say with me)

I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,

Over mountain, or plain, or sea.

I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord.

I’ll be what you want me to be.

Jesus was compelled to go through Samaria. Is there somewhere today that Jesus is compelling us to go?

We are compelled to come to church today. Even if we came “out of habit,” we still had “a choice”; at least we would say we did. But when it comes right down to it, we were compelled to come here at 10:30 am on this Sunday morning, because this is where Jesus wants to meet us. For the woman at the well Jesus had to show up at noon. He had to be there. He had to come here at 10:30, and we did, too.

Like Jesus and the woman, Jesus and we begin the “small talk” conversations – You know, “the hi’s” and “how are you’s” and “gee, you are looking well today,” and “that sure is a pretty sweater.” We also might converse about some project here or how a friend or relative is or make a joke at someone’s expense or talk about a trip we have taken or are going to take. Sometimes Jesus can and will meet us in these conversations and/or snippets of dialogue, but I wonder. Maybe if we take the time and interest to stop and go a bit more in depth, because we felt there was something just under the surface waiting to come out, Jesus will meet us.

Yes, Jesus had to go through Samaria because he had to minister to the woman one-on-one. And, did you notice that when the disciples returned and were “surprised to find Jesus speaking to the woman,” no one asked, “What do you want?” or “Why are you talking to her?” And, did we notice that there wasn’t any lead-in story with the disciples arguing with Jesus that they shouldn’t go through Samaria; that “good Jews just don’t do that?” No, the ministry of Jesus Christ and the necessity of the ministry of Jesus Christ had begun to infect the disciples and they were beginning to realize what Jesus’ ministry meant to people.

Anyway, Jesus and the woman sparred at first, talking about well water versus living water, the temple in Jerusalem where the “real Jews” went versus the temple at Mount Gerizim where the Samaritans worshipped. I am sure that these details were important to someone, but truthfully, they weren’t important to the woman or Jesus. The woman had a heart-hunger that needed to be met and Jesus had a heart-hunger to meet it. That is why Jesus was compelled to go through Samaria: To fill a heart-hunger.

He also wants to fill our heart-hunger, too. So, we have the recap of the encounter in our Bible, the very word of God. In it, Jesus says, “I tell you there will be a day when people will worship in spirit and in truth.”

Don’t we worship in spirit and in truth? Or, do we really wonder what this means? In one sense, isn’t Jesus merely stating the obvious? Worship should be “spiritual.” It ought to be appropriately religious and uplifting. And of course, worship ought to be about truth. But one preacher said, “(Just) gathering to celebrate our collective illusions and lies is not worship – it is a sad delusion.”[6] So, two quick thoughts.

One, when we worship in “spirit,” it is not so much a “place” as it is wherever the Holy Spirit of God blows upon us. We get true worship when we are “blown together” in one place by the Holy Spirit of God. This “one place” doesn’t have to be a physical place. In fact, it is “in one place” where people are “in agreement,” in harmony, and believing and working together in the same way and for the same purposes.

The word about God in the Old Testament comes from Genesis 1, “And the spirit of God ‘brooded’ over the water; it brought forth something out of nothing.” In the New Testament the word is pneuma, meaning simply “wind.” The wind is air in motion. This implies the Holy Sprit is God in motion. Therefore, worship is wherever the Holy spirit of God blows through, blows strange people together (or moves together people strangely!), moves us to someplace we wouldn’t be had there not been given the gift of the Holy Spirit.

And truth? John’s Gospel has a very particular view of truth. In our definitions truth tends to be an idea, a proposition, some statement that we make like “this idea is truth,” we say. But in John’s Gospel, Jesus makes statements like, “I am the truth.” Now the truth about God has become a person, has become personal. God is no longer an abstraction, a vague generality. God has a face and a name – Jesus the Christ.

Every time we Christians gather for worship, blown in by the wind of God, we believe that we are able and do worship in “spirit and truth.” Why? Because worship is a gift of the Holy Spirit. Worship occurs in those wonderful moments when the Spirit of God blows through our dead, dark and infertile world and brings life (or through our weak, sad and non-productive lives and brings life). And, worship is also in truth. It is not some vague, pie-in-the-sky, incomprehensible imaginative spiritual high in which we have a strange and other-worldly feeling.

Worship is when we are encountered by Jesus, (and he changes our life. We do something different because of him!). It really isn’t worship, worship in spirit and in truth, until Jesus shows up. Worship in truth is when we have a sense that Jesus has intruded, arrived, and taken a seat beside us. Worship for us is to be encountered by Jesus Christ our Savior whose love is not the love we expected, whose way is not the way we expected to walk.[7]

And, by the way, when we are worshipping in the spirit and in the truth of God through Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, just like the men and women of Sychar who went to see Jesus, a Jew, we truly cannot hate anyone, either.

Amen.

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[1] Roger L. Fredrikson, John, (The Communicator’s Commentary ,Lloyd J. Oglivie, ed. Word Books, Waco, Tx) p. 95

[2] Op. cit.

[3] Op. cit.

[4] Op. cit.

[5] Op. cit., p. 94

[6] William H. Willimon, “Spirit and Truth,” (Pulpit Resource, vol. 39, No.1) p. 55

[7] Op. cit.