Sermons
“FLYING HOME"
Where is Heaven?
Where is Heaven? Some say it is here among us and others say it is eternally far off. Those who believe it is here tend to be those who try to do something about it (remember the story of the Tower of Babel), and those who think it is far off can nonetheless obsess over trying to get there.
We’re going to look at several texts and consider both ideas—that the Kingdom of God is here, and that the Kingdom of God is elsewhere—even as we affirm that Heaven, be it here or there, is our true home.
Luke 17: 20-21
20 Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; 21 nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”
“The kingdom of God is among you.” other translations say “within you.” This suggests that the kingdom of God is here, with us and among us.
Many have misread this text to mean that the kingdom of God is something personal and subjective—something within each one of us and every human being—but this a misinterpretation, because the “you” is plural, not singular. The southerner Cotton Patch translation is better: “The kingdom of God is among y’all.” Or the Texas translation: “The kingdom of God is among all y’all.” It is plural, not singular, so the kingdom exists in the midst of God’s collected, connected community of faith—among us all.
But the next verses give us our paradox. Continuing at verse 22:
Luke 17: 22-24
Then he said to the disciples, “The days are coming when you will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man, and you will not see it. 23 They will say to you, ‘Look there!’ or ‘Look here!’ Do not go, do not set off in pursuit. 24 For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day.
The return of Christ will not be merely among us—in the midst of our collective, shared faith—nor will it be piecemeal or progressive. The kingdom will not come as a product of human efforts, so it’s wrong to think that we will in some way evolve into it. Rather, like lightning flashing from east to west, Jesus will be revealed to all flesh everywhere in an instant. There will be no here or there about it.
So where is Heaven? Some say that Heaven is here, among us waiting to be activated and revealed by our good work. Others say it is elsewhere in a spiritual space where our departed spirits go to learn how to play the harp on celestial clouds, or something like that.
Scripture says something about both, and it is by acknowledging and understanding both that we come to rightly hold them in that unresolved tension which helps our wings take to the air.
Christ and Kingdom Here
The Greeks believed in a separated Heaven and Earth. Their basic worldview, called Gnosticism, saw this world as evil—a thing to be escaped—and Heaven as that better world after death, which people should do everything they can to get into. But wait, you think, isn’t that Christianity as well? Gnosticism had a huge impact on Christianity, but this was not the worldview of Paul, the Apostles, or Jesus.
The Bible gives us a picture of Heaven and Earth as two separate realms of God’s creation. The plan is not to get out of one world (this one) and into Heaven, the realm of God. Rather, Scripture proclaims God’s plan to bring Heaven and Earth together in a great act of new creation, thereby completing God’s purposes for the fulfillment of Creation.
Augustine proclaimed that Christ is the living link between the two realms, which, like two circles touching at a single point, connects the two realms. In Christ, Heaven is here.
Modern theologians say that Augustine didn’t go far enough. They would say that Jesus’ initiation of the kingdom is more like intersecting circles which share much more than a single point, but an overlapping area that includes both Heaven and Earth. This is to say that Heaven exists here and now, among us.
But this isn’t to say that we are responsible for Heaven’s advent. We human beings are not capable of making Earth heavenly. Rather, we serve The Lord who alone has the power to reveal Heaven and overcome the Earth. So although Heaven is among us—in our midst—we do not own it, steer it, or otherwise control it, though there are those who wrongly think we do. Beware them.
No, God alone is in control. When the final trumpet sounds, by God’s agency alone, the two circles will overlap completely, and a new Heaven and a new Earth will be the eternal result.
Isaiah 65:17
For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.
This is an image of God forgetting all of our sin, which is real forgiveness. And notice it does not say that Heaven will eclipse the Earth, or that the present Heaven will simply take the place of the Earth, but rather by a new act of creation God will create a New Earth and a New Heaven. It may even be the same place.
It seems we “get to Heaven” not by going anywhere, but rather Heaven comes here to us. This is also implied by the doctrine of the Second Coming, in which we do not go to Heaven, but Jesus comes back to Earth.
We’ve been waiting a long time for Jesus to return—so long that some who were raised Christian have given up hope—but that was already happening in the first century. Second Peter addresses the issue directly, as well as telling us more about Heaven and Earth.
2 Peter 3: 8-13
8 But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. 9 The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance. 10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed. 11 Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, 12 waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire? 13 But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home.
“We wait,” says Peter, because the new Earth and Heaven are coming here.
When God made this world, He made something good—very good and blessed—and we know this whenever we take a good around us. Watching the morning sun light up the snowy mountains, we see His handiwork and praise Him. Birds singing in the trees—if we watch them and listen to them—are singing a song of praise to Him. The warmth of friends, family, and yes, even your dog—all give us a glimpse into what God has intended from the beginning. If we have eyes to see and ears to hear, then we know the goodness that God has made and intended for the world. God is good—so good that He will not allow what is truly good to be lost—and we can trust in that love to preserve all that is blessed, all that serves His glory, including the good things of a fallen world that serve His purposes.
So Heaven is here, and we see glimpses of it. But Heaven is also elsewhere.
Heaven is Elsewhere
Pontius Pilate asks Jesus if he is a king.
John 18:36
36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.”
Jesus isn’t saying He’s disappointed that His followers didn’t manage to put up a fight, but that His kingdom is not the kind that can be brought about by fighting. Hear that, activists and rioters? Today’s political zealots may tell themselves they are serving God or the kingdom of God by massive demonstrations, vandalism, or by breaking into government buildings, but that is a mistake. Jesus’ kingdom is not served in that way. Jesus immediately stopped things in Gethsemane the moment Peter drew a short sword and went after someone’s ear. Jesus scolds Peter and then heals the ear.
And this—to stop the fighting and actively mend the damage—is the way of the Kingdom. And though we reflect Heaven in our lives, we do not bring it about by good behavior or human righteousness. It doesn’t work that way.
Paul, in 1 Corinthians 15:50, puts it plainly:
50 What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable
Flesh and blood are part of what must be transformed before the kingdom can be inherited. The perishable cannot put on imperishability by an act of will. The otherness of God’s creative agency is inescapable. We may like to think that we are making it happen, but we are not. We await God’s coming, in the words of Jesus, like a bride awaiting her groom:
John 14: 1-3
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.
Jesus goes “elsewhere” to prepare a place for us to which He will take us once He returns. In this image, Heaven is definitely not here; it is where we shall go after we are gathered, collected, and taken to the place He is now preparing.
Even so, that place could be right here, couldn’t it?
The problem we have with this world is sin, death, decay, erosion, and entropy. Aside from that, we have thorns, mosquitoes, flies, Covid, cancer, earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, hot summers, and cold winters. Even we clueless humans come up with a lot to criticize about this world, so it is only natural that we put our imaginations to something better and wholly other when we think about Heaven. Yes, Heaven must be elsewhere, because this world as it is, is too small, too broken, and too corrupted to ever contain Heaven.
Our hope must remain in a new Earth, as well as the new Heaven yet to be created.
Heaven is Our Home
Summing up, the problem with those who emphasize that Heaven is here is that they also imagine that you and I are somehow in control of how Heaven is activated or revealed. Scripture does not bear out that you and I are responsible for the coming transformation. We are told to remain awake and be watchful, and we are told to live as people who know that these changes are coming and to long for them, but none of it comes by our own hands, nor by our good intentions, nor by our good deeds and activism. Furthermore, as we read, there are plenty of verses supporting the opposite view—that Heaven is not of this world and not of flesh and blood. So if you’ve tended to think of Heaven as something here that we are charged to bring about, your theology is all messed up.
On the other hand, the problem with those who emphasize that the Kingdom is elsewhere is potential apathy. [Big shrug] “Well, it’s all up to God, so what can we do but sit back and wait?” On the face of it, it’s not untrue, but Scripture is chock-full of exhortations that the people of God be diligent in serving Him. The lazy servant buries his one talent and does nothing with it until his master returns; at which point, he digs up the one talent and gives it back. “You wicked and lazy servant!” says his master.
We shouldn’t so underestimate our value in God’s eyes that we don’t long with eager longing for His kingdom to come. That longing is part and parcel of our witness, and it doesn’t look like people doing nothing but staring up at the clouds. Rather, our witness means doing all things mindful of the kingdom vision God has given us. We have an incredible advantage over the rest of the world: we know how things are going to turn out. We know how the story ends and Who stands there as Lord and judge of all. We should be actively preparing this world for His arrival. Yes, it is His work and comes at His timing, but as we have been promised a share in the victory, we are responsible for our use of our time, talents, and treasure.
Both/And
Finally, there is a great both/and in the equation, for Jesus is both Lord of the here and now, and Lord over the eternal kingdom yet to come.
And we take great comfort here and now in the knowledge that Heaven--the place where God is—is our true home. If we should die before Jesus returns, we will be with Him in the interim, our spirit in His paradise.
Our hope is not for this world, but for the world yet to come. That coming world will not destroy what is godly, but only what is deadly. The Second Coming is our blessed hope, our good news, because judgment means God will put everything as it is supposed to be, and there will be sorrow no more, and He will wipe away our every tear. That is the home for which every human heart hungers, either knowingly or unknowingly.
Let us close with a word from Paul,
Philippians 3:20-21
20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21 He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself.
He is risen; He is risen indeed.
“THE GIFT OF FLIGHT"
COLOSSIANS 3: 1-4
MORE BIRD LESSONS
I want to remind you of our guiding image in this series from Soren Kierkegaard. Geese live in a barnyard surrounded by a high wall. There is plenty of delicious corn to eat, so they stay there and no longer heed the call to fly south in the autumn. Other geese fly overhead and invite them, but the barnyard geese no long bother—they don’t even look up anymore—they just keep picking at the ground and remain grounded.
This was Kierkegaard’s way of criticizing what Christianity had become in Denmark in the early 19th century. People didn’t really care about the faith; they just went along with the rest of the flock. The higher calling didn’t matter. Flight (which they were made for) just didn’t matter.
We’ve said we’re meant for flight, and flying means getting both wings stretched out—a left wing and a right wing—and by living in the tension of the two wings, we can actually take to the air, rise above the barnyard and find a superior perspective from high above the scene.
The paradoxes and unresolved tensions found throughout our faith deny us the simple comforts of the barnyard, and we become hungry for something better. We long for the sky and become eager to test our wings and get to that 3D perspective of our world.
Now I must ask you to pardon me for adding another bird to our running analogy. This one is a seagull: Jonathan Livingston Seagull. The book Jonathan Livingston Seagull, by Richard Bach, was an early, new age classic. It is a spiritual fable about a seagull who is obsessed with flying and flying well, which is our interest in this series as well. One quote says it well enough:
Most gulls don’t bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight—how to get from shore to food and back again. For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight.
It seems seagulls are a lot like geese. They can fly—and they are meant to fly—but they can become so obsessed with food that they never bother.
GROUNDED
The geese in the barnyard think they’re content, but we need to look closer. Yes, there’s plenty of corn—enough to feed all the geese all they could want—but they still fight squabble over every kernel. What’s more, the geese have organized themselves into opposing teams in order to maximize the amount of corn they can control.
If you or I could stand among them, we’d say the geese look miserable. They squawk at each other constantly, and the barnyard ground is filthy. Why in the world would they stay there, investing themselves in that wretched, walled-in barnyard when just a few wing-flaps above the land they would see a larger, freer, cleaner world?
What keeps them grounded? Well, that is the question. To name a few possibilities, they may think flying is too complex and too complicated. All that flapping and 3d navigation seems like a lot of effort and a long way from all the corn. Perhaps they think, “Why bother flying halfway across the globe when there’s plenty of delicious corn right here?”
There are probably as many excuses as there are geese, but all have in common the feeling that the barnyard, with its steady supply of corn, is the only thing that matters.
They are grounded because they are used to the way things are. They don’t mind the filth and the fighting because it has all become their custom. It is who they are (they think), and as long as they stay grounded in the barnyard, they will never know of what lies beyond, so they point their beaks at the ground and stay focused on pecking at kernels. That is their life.
If they dared to use their wings, the geese would find new life in the sky and immediately come to their senses. They would say, “What in the world was wrong with me? Why was I so devoted to that rotten, little barnyard?”
Our text states the antidote quite clearly: Set your minds on things that are above.
Our focus needs to be above and beyond the barnyard.
OUR BARNYARD
So let’s talk about our barnyard.
It's official: we have a new president, a new cabinet, and a new congress and senate. Some of us celebrate this change, others of us grieve it, but we are still one people who have to work across the aisle: two wings and all.
Let no Christian be found gleefully gloating this win over others, and let no Christian be found pouting or whining over the loss—neither response is good and neither serve our witness to Christ. Both reactions—widespread in the media and general public—are patently childish.
Nearly a year and a half ago, we had a sermon entitled, "Why Your Political Party is the Wrong One," wherein we were challenged to beware of our party spirit which can undermine our capacity to love and instead serve the common good for all. Today, we should all refresh our focus on the common good.
Four years ago, when Trump took office, America's feelings were divided in much the same way today. Of all the things that were said—and there were many—one thing that struck me was from comedian Dave Chappelle, who hosted Saturday Night Live. He said, "I did not vote for Donald Trump, but he is our president—come on, people, give him a chance!"
This was a rare moment of adulthood for that show. This—I believe—is at the very heart of the American spirit. It isn’t about winning or losing elections; it is about working across the aisle especially when your side did not win. What we need today, as always, are adults in the room. Adults don't gloat over their wins like children, and they most certainly don't try to shoot the wounded, as we see happening in some quarters. Neither do adults refuse to play anymore and knock over the game board. That is pouting and cursedly childish.
If you have been a Biden supporter, be gracious, be tactful, and be good winners—neither vindictive against your political opponents nor high and mighty for your win. As Christians, we always seek to lead by serving.
If you have been a Trump supporter, be like Dave Chappelle—give the new administration a chance—and pray for those you see as political opponents.
People of First Pres: you and I need to model unity for the rest of the nation.
And let's be crystal clear: Jesus doesn't care which party or candidate you support. Jesus judges both the left and the right, the rich and the poor, the cultural elites and the common folk. God backs neither party but loves the people of all parties. Brothers and sisters, earthly politics is mostly a lot of silly games. Both sides have their forays into self-righteousness (which is always false righteousness). Politics can divide people or lead them to the erroneous conclusion that others are unworthy of their love, and that is a deep sin indeed. We mustn’t allow ourselves to be drowned in the noise of the barnyard.
"Love your enemies," says Jesus. That means we have no justification for withholding our love from anyone. Put in the most practical terms, we must forgive everyone for everything all the time.
For some of you, that may be too much, but that is Christ's command. If you would like to withhold forgiveness from anyone for any reason, this is where you get off the bus call the Christian faith. If you should want to stay on the bus, you must forgive—every one of everything all of the time.
I know many of you dislike this. If you think I enjoy telling you this, you're right—I do—because I have little respect for the popular brands of Christianity that make excuses to protect people's egos.
[with mock sincerity]: "I think God wants us to forgive in general, but I think there are things we don't really have to forgive others for." Heresy.
"I think there are some sins which God does not expect us to forgive." Also heresy.
Matthew 6: 14-15:
14 For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; 15 but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
That’s one wing.
Luke 17: 3-4
3 Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. 4 And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, 'I repent,' you must forgive."
"Aha!" you're thinking, "IF someone repents, then you must forgive. IF! That means we only have to forgive if someone is truly repentant, right?" Do you think that's a loophole? Are we going to get legalistic about it now? No. The spirit of forgiveness is to forgive and let it go—not to nurture some inward justification to keep hating someone.
But let's say it plainly: forgiving others can be very, very hard.
HARD TO FORGIVE
Some people forgive easily. They can say it’s over and let it go—and really let it go in their heart of hearts—these are the blessed ones, and I think they’re pretty rare. But I think we can all grow in that direction and ought to make it our goal.
Others—perhaps most people—struggle with themselves to forgive. Some people may have previously offered forgiveness too quickly, before they could mean it or feel it in their hearts, so they came to resent themselves for having let someone off the hook so easily. Did you ever feel that way? Forgive someone and then regret that you did quite so quickly? I think we all understand.
Some people find forgiving others extremely difficult. When one feels damage that is deep and savaging, that pain can feel like something impossible to counteract. Some people have unresolved hurts and even deep scarring—they’d like to forgive but find it difficult, if not impossible.
If that’s you, I’d say fret not—God bless you! It’s okay to be patient with yourself in coming to a genuine sense of forgiveness. And it’s perhaps better to say it when you can do so sincerely than to do it and not mean it. That’s a kind of lie both to oneself and to the person you’re ostensibly forgiving. It’s okay to say, “I’m trying to forgive with God’s help. My goal is to forgive,” which is not the same as saying, “I will not forgive.” Some people need time.
Ever been on the other side of insincere forgiveness? Ever been “forgiven” and then reminded of your offense again and again? That is the same thing as not being forgiven.
FORGIVE AND FORGET
The aphorism Forgive and Forget is the right formula. To forgive but not forget is to not forgive. It is to remember the sins of others continually. Now to be clear, forgetting doesn’t need to mean literally forgetting—it’s possible you’ll always internally remember an injury done to you—but that once you forgive, it is forgotten within the relationship. Once you forgive, you forego your right ever to bring it up again. It might be there in your head, and you may want to bring it up—but you shouldn’t. To not mention it is to forget with the kind of forgetting that is forgiveness. That is how God forgives us, and the way we should forgive one another. True forgiveness forgets, practically speaking.
THE GIFT OF FLIGHT
When we forgive others, it may not feel like love to us. It may feel like a risky bet that the other may not pay off. Forgiving others may feel like a loss rather than a win. We hope the other person would appreciate it, but it can be hard to know.
But when you are the one who has been offered forgiveness, that feels like love. When we are forgiven, it is as though a weight is taken off our backs and we are again free to fly as we should.
The great paradox of forgiveness is that once we are freed to fly high above the barnyard, our life in the barnyard improves dramatically. We involve ourselves by choice, not by compulsion. We keep a sense of humor over the silly games that lead the other geese to anger and fighting. We don’t seriously invest ourselves in anything grounded, because our real life is hidden with Christ in the air, high above the barnyard.
And we believe a day is coming when the call to join Him in the air will be completely irresistible, and all his flock will come to Him, to be with Him and fly with Him…south? north? east? west? up yonder? What matters is that wherever He is, we shall be, and that is why we set our minds on the things that are above, and thank Him for the gift of flight.
“DIVINE WINGS"
It’s Complicated
Facebook used to have a designation for one’s relationship status—I don’t even know if it’s still used—but in a person’s profile, there was a designation for “relationship status.” The common picks were “single,” “married,” and “in a relationship,” but my favorite one was the very strange, “It’s complicated.” There’s something very honest yet very truthful about that one.
How if we were to have Facebook add a new category (as if they’d listen!) “spirituality” with the same choices? “Single”—for the agnostic/seeker, “married” for the devoutly committed, “in a relationship” for the non-denominational, and “it’s complicated” for…whoever, whatever.
I’m coming to believe that “it’s complicated” is not only the best answer for absolutely everything, but I’m thoroughly convinced that it’s true for our relationship with God. Certain aspects of the faith are simple, but the deeper you go and the longer you search, the more complex, the more wondrous, and surprisingly unsearchable the greatness of God becomes. It is complicated.
God in Paradox
As we continue Learning to Fly, I’d like to recap where we’ve been. Two weeks ago we told the Parable of the Geese from Soren Kierkegaard. The geese lived in a barnyard with high walls and plenty of good corn, so they became quite comfortable. When other geese flew overhead in the autumn, the geese in the barnyard no longer thought of following them. We, as Christians, are called to world beyond the one presented to us. That calling can be dulled by devoting ourselves to this world rather than the kingdom of God. We are meant for flight.
Last week, after a failed story about a pair of ducks, we talked about paradoxes, and how much of Scripture speaks through paradoxes rather than simple, polarized types of statements. We said that paradoxes, coming from Christ himself, are better at containing truth than are many of our axiomatic type of statements. We find our wings as we live in the unresolved tensions created by paradoxes, but that unresolved tension is what gets our wings stretched out and what enables us to fly.
Today we’re going to consider how God’s own character and nature are revealed in Scripture as paradoxes, and we’ll note why these unresolved tensions are superior to other, popular, over-simplified statements about God.
So let’s kick it off with the biggest paradox: God is three; God is one—the Trinity.
The Trinity
God is one in essence, one in being, yet three in persons. This basic doctrine of the Christian faith has bothered thinkers since the first century. The paradox that God is three and God is one has been a challenge from the start. But the Scripture is full of references to the Trinity. The heart of the Church’s mission is worded in Matthew 28: 18-20:
And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Notice, it does not say “in the names,” but “in the name”—singular—of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In Scripture, God is revealed as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—one God. It’s complicated—this paradox contains truth that stretches us beyond our comfort zones. And from the beginning, many have tried to reduce it to a simpler, more manageable and digestible form—all of these are heresies.
Some just tried to do away with the Trinity altogether—Islam did so, as did Unitarianism, and even some Pentecostals, troubled by the paradox, have claimed that it is not biblical.
C.S. Lewis, in Mere Christianity, says:
“We cannot compete, in simplicity, with people who are inventing religions. How could we? We are dealing with Fact. Of course anyone can be simple if he has not facts to bother about.”
But consider: why should it be simple? What in the universe really is simple? Why, of all things, would the nature and character of God Almighty be something we consider neat, tidy, and simple? And herein is one of the most important themes of this series: that the human preference for simplicity will take any truth and try to dumb it down into an uncomplicated form. People dislike unresolved tensions, and prefer one wing and life in the barnyard to the greater life of flight.
Aside from the Trinity, we can find paradoxes speaking to each person of the Trinity as well.
Father Paradoxes
First, as we consider the Father, there is a basic paradox confronted by every child let alone every adult. It’s a simple one: God is omnipresent yet God is invisible. God the Father is everywhere—omniscient and ever-present—yet completely invisible to us. We pray, “Our Father, Who art in Heaven…” which says He’s up there, as though not here at the same time. We talk about God being distant, but that is impossible, because there is no place where God cannot be.
In Christian worship, I take issue with the kind of language that talks about “God showing up”—usually from a group that means to work itself into a fair emotional lather of sincerity—but let’s be clear: God is there already. God was there when room was empty and the lights were off. We con’t call God into our presence as though He’s somewhere far off and needs to be brought down to our presence. No, God is everywhere and eternal. When we worship, we awaken ourselves to His ever-presence.
Second, God is almighty, all-powerful, and all good; yet He allows evil to exist. This is a paradox because in the simple math of our own minds, if God is good, He would simply wipe out all evil immediately, in a snap. Boom! No more evil, no more devil, no more Hell—just God and God’s goodness everywhere forever. Why does a good, loving, all-powerful God even tolerate the presence of evil in His world? I don’t know, but we all live with this as an unresolved tension. One day, we will know and it will make perfect sense to us.
Next, God hates sin. Sin repels God’s presence, which is what the Hebrew word tamei (usually translated unclean) means. God cannot tolerate sin and cannot co-exist with sin. We could say God hates sin. But God loves sinners and continuously through Scripture reveals that He wants sinners rescued. If He despises sin, how can He help but despise those who cause sin? God hates sin, but loves sinners. That is a paradox and tough to wrap our minds around, but again, we live with it as an unresolved tension.
God the Father is the judge of all sin. He calls it out, calls it wicked, demands righteousness and justice from people who have the power to do these things but don’t do them. This same judge is also the merciful one who forgives sin. He is the Prodigal Father who runs to bless the wayward, sinful child who looks toward home. This is a paradox, but it is also wonderful, most excellent, good news.
Son Paradoxes
Next: the paradoxes about Jesus, God the Son. First, the great mystery of the dual nature of Christ: Jesus is fully God and fully human. Jesus was neither just God nor just a man. He has a divine nature and yet he is fully human, even as we are.
Describing this paradox led to centuries of theological argument. Two natures or a single, hybrid nature? How many wills? One, two, or another hybrid? Early theologians went back and forth for decades and decades attempting to articulate Jesus’ dual nature, and every time someone thought they’d figured it out, they’d write it up in an elegant theological treatise and share it with all the bishops of the world. Then came the critiques: “No, no, no, because Scripture says…” and heresies were named.
After nearly two thousand years of theological quibbling, science gave us the perfect analogy in quantum physics. Light: is it a wave or a particle? It turns out is a wave and it is a particle. Not half and half, not some other explanation—but light exists as waves—completely—and as particles—completely, just like the dual nature of Christ, completely God and completely human. Yes, it’s complicated.
Second, Jesus died, yet he lives. On the surface this sounds like a flat-out contradiction. Did Jesus die? Yes, he did. Did he really die? Yes. So, he’s what we should call dead? No, he is alive—he lives. Right here, at the heart of Christian faith is the most complicated paradox. Jesus is raised; He is risen indeed!
Revelation 1:18
I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades.
Jesus lived two thousand years ago, but he is every bit as much alive today. There is no body to be found in this world—the atoms that made up his flesh and bones are no longer here. He has ascended. His resurrected body, which left the tomb empty, has put on immortality and resides in the eternal place of God. There is nothing simple about Christianity. At the very center stand the most complicated realities.
Thirdly, Jesus, who is God in the flesh, Lord, ruler, master of the universe, came to us in utter humility, subjection, and servanthood. Begotten by God into the smallness and impoverishment of first century Palestine, born in a manger, living a peasant lifestyle, the King of Glory revealed Himself veiled in humility.
Philippians 2: 6-8
though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited, but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form, he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.
There is no discussing Jesus, the Son of God, without immediately having to face these paradoxes—these enormous complexities. Let no one say that Christianity is really quite simple.
Spirit Paradoxes
And now to the Holy Spirit. First, the Spirit is paradoxical because his roles seem contradictory. The Spirit is sent from the Father and the Son to convince—or convict—the world of its sin, yet the Spirit is our comforter as well.
John 16:8 And when he comes, he will convict the world of sin and righteousness and judgment.
That is like a district court judge telling you that you are completely guilty, yet she wants to give you a big hug to make you feel better. The same Spirit who reassures us that we belong to Christ is the one who tells us that we don’t deserve it. Can you make sense of that? It’s not easy; it’s light-years from simple.
The greater paradox is in the nature and function of the Holy Spirit; namely, how little we can know about the Spirit.
John 3:8
The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is not self-revealing, but the Holy Spirit reveals Jesus as He is. The Holy Spirit never points to himself, but points with eternal persistence at Christ. The evidence that the Holy Spirit is working is that someone—anyone—looks at Jesus and sees the Son of God.
No mere human being can look at Jesus and see Him as Lord unless the Holy Spirit acts. No one can read Scripture and be convinced that it is true, or good, or of God unless the Holy Spirit reveals that truth. There is nothing we come know—no spiritual insight or light of faith—that takes place by ourselves. All require the work of the Holy Spirit, who remains unrevealed, and when sought, only reveals Christ.
Yes, It’s Complicated
If your mind is spinning a bit, then congratulations, you are thinking theologically, which is better than thinking in lesser ways: merely materially, economically, sociologically, psychologically, and so on.
Finally, I want to remind us that we’re supposed to fly—we live by these unresolved tensions and by them our wings support us on the air.
The alternatives to complexity are all unbalanced and flawed. Reality is not simple; it is complex. There is no path to radicalism or extremism that doesn’t necessarily involve oversimplifying reality, oversimplifying the world, or politics, economics, or even other people. The path to extremism always begins by dumbing down reality and denying the largeness of truth. There is no way to become a fundamentalist or extremist except by first denying the basic complexity of things.
Extremists live in the realm of selective vision and willful, selective blindness. They have simply chosen not to see certain things—things that don’t agree with their over-simplified worldview. Fanaticism is not only the loss of perspective of the whole, it is a fierce commitment to a single view, a single wing, and though they think they’re being progressive leaders or firm loyalists, they’re unbalanced, unreliable, and they will never get off the ground with their single wing.
Sanity—let alone wisdom—begins with the fear of God, which is a way of saying, “God is great, God is good, and God is more complicated than we will ever be able to work out in our comparatively tiny minds.” That’s the fear of God. That’s the beginning of wisdom. We look around and call it like it truly is: It’s Complicated.
May God continuously draw us all into the depths of knowing Him, preserving us from our love of oversimplification, and may we take on humility as a noble pursuit in imitation of Christ. And may we all be blessed to discover the richness, the joy, and the unsearchable, wondrous, complexities of our God. †
“A PAIR OF DUCKS AND A FOX"
PAIR OF DUCKS & FOX
I came across an Indonesian fable of the Pair of Ducks and a Fox: One day, a pair of ducks walked along the road to go to the lake for a swim. In the middle of the road, they met Mr. fox. He sat under the tree. “Hello, sisters, where are you going?” asked the fox. “
“We are going to the lake to swim. Would you like to join us?” asked the ducks. “No, but thanks,” said the fox. “By the way, do the two of you come down here every day?” “Yes,” said the ducks, “we come down here every morning.” “Delicious—I mean—nice to meet you both,” said the fox.
The next day, the first duck said, “Are we really going to swim today? I’ll bet that fox is waiting for us with a wicked plan.” “I know,” said the second duck, “but I have a plan for him too.”
So they went and the fox was there again. “Hello sisters, going swimming again?” asked the fox. “Yes, we are, so maybe you wouldn’t mind escorting us to the lake to protect us from bad animals.” said the second duck. “But of course, it’s my pleasure,” said the fox, who inwardly thought to himself, “Just as I hoped—a free lunch!”
The three of them walked down to the lake. When they were near, the second duck said, “When I say run, let’s all run as fast as we can—RUN!” They ran like crazy down into the lake, and the running made the fox go into hunting mode. The pair of ducks ran out 20 feet into the water, and the fox, crazed with excitement, jumped out to get them, but forgot that he could not swim. The fox drowned in the lake. He failed to get his free lunch.
Moral : Do not intend evil to others, because evil is self-inflicted.
Sadly, this story has no connection with today’s teaching—but I was desperate to find something that went with my punny title, “A Pair of Ducks.” But I did find one useful thing to make of it.
When the ducks walk on the road, they move in one dimension. Think about it: when you drive in your car, especially on a country road, you move in one dimension—on a line—you can go forward or back; that’s it. Your only measurement is a mile marker.
Once the ducks get to the lake and swim on the surface, they move in two dimensions. There are no roads, so you can veer left or right at any moment. There are no lanes to stay in, so you move much more freely than in just 1 dimension. Navigation requires both latitude and longitude to navigate your way.
But when the ducks fly, they move in three dimensions. You’re familiar with the term navigation, which originally applied to ships and how to get a ship from place to place, but you might not know the term avigation, which is navigation in the air. Flight is three-dimensional, so altitude combines with longitude and latitude for position and direction. Flight, unlike a walk down the sidewalk—is complex and complicated. It is three-dimensional instead of one or two dimensional.
Last week we talked being meant for flight. Like Kierkegaard’s geese, we aren’t meant to be trapped in the barnyard, but to follow our calling into the air. Our goal is to fly—to move from one-dimensional thinking to three-dimensional thinking. We seek to get off the ground and fly high above the barnyard for more complete perspective of the whole.
We considered that the noble life involves living with some unresolved tensions—that we live tolerating some paradoxes—and that doing so helps us get off the ground with two, healthily-poised wings.
For the next few weeks we’ll be looking at biblical paradoxes, which are gifts from God to us, for they train us in three-dimensional thinking. We read Scripture growing from a one-dimensional road map, to two-dimensional navigation, and onward to three-dimensional avigation.
PARADOX TRUTH
The Oxford Dictionary defines paradox as: A seemingly absurd or contradictory statement or proposition which, when investigated, may prove to be well founded or true.
What appears as a contradiction is in fact an unresolved tension—a right and left wing—by which we see truth from a new perspective. Paradoxes may express truth and reflect the true world much better than simple, propositional, truth statements. A propositional truth statement is simple, by which I mean it is one-dimensional and contains no element of complexity, which is why we like them, and why the attraction to literalism remains so persistent.
An example of a propositional truth statement could be:
READING IS GOOD.
It seems true. It’s kind of hard to disagree with as far as it goes, but it’s not really true, not necessarily true. There’s not much good in reading if someone reads only degenerate books, trashy fashion magazines, or Nazi propaganda. The value of reading depends upon what is read. In fact, we can say with equal, propositional truth that READING IS BAD, if people are reading only bad stuff. So what happens to that simple, propositional truth: reading is good? It turns out to be unuseful.
Reading can be good or bad, and seeing this puts us into a paradoxical state of mind. We can’t say either that all reading is good or all reading is bad—either one of those statements is extreme, inaccurate, and fails to acknowledge other factors. A better statement than “reading is good” would be, “reading is potentially good or evil depending upon the quality of one’s reading material.” Although that doesn’t fit on a bumper sticker, it is a better description of the truth about reading. The better truth statement is a statement of paradox.
As we consider some of the paradoxes in Scripture—many of them directly from Christ—we’ll see how that tension from paradoxes helps us better understand biblical truth. Again, we want to hear Scripture in three-dimensions, not just one.
BIBLE PARADOXES
We’re going to look at nine paradoxes in Scripture—and more in the coming weeks. The first five are in single verses; the last four compare verses.
1
Matthew 16:25 “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
We find our lives by losing them. In one-dimension, that makes no sense; but off the ground, in the air, we get it: the self-serving life is vanity leading to death; the life of faith in Christ is eternal life.
2
Luke 14:11 “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Again, in one-dimension it is nonsense. The way up is to go down? But off the ground we hear that while men exalt themselves, God will exalt only the humble.
3
Matthew 20: 26b-27 “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave.”
The top position is the bottom position. The greatest must be the most servile. Jesus upends our worldly ways. His kingdom calls us from pride to humility, from control to surrender, from a worldview based upon power to one founded in empathy and selfless service.
4
Galatians 5: 13-14 "For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.”
Again, Freedom is Slavery. To be slaves to one another means that our community—our personal connections—our to be characterized by mutual service, not self-interest.
5
2 Corinthians 6: 8-10 “We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.”
Paul piles the paradoxes up so that it couldn’t be clearer that we are meant for the air and the unresolved tensions of living with paradoxes. Our Christian life is completely at odds with the world—in tension up and against the world—but not in a negative sense, but a positive one, for we are happy servants of the Lord of all and we serve His world for His glory.
Sometimes the paradoxes are seen by comparing two verses.
6
Romans 3:28“A person is justified by faith apart from works of the law.” and
James 2:24“A person is justified by works and not by faith alone.” ()
This is the infamous faith/works paradox. These two verses, at the ground level, are incompatible. But by the tension between them we spread our wings and fly above the barnyard. We live our Christian lives with faith and works as an unresolved tension—one that keeps us striving to do well yet trusting entirely in God and giving Him all the glory.
7
Matthew 11:30 “My yoke is easy.” and Matthew 7:14“How difficult the road that leads to life.”
Is salvation easy or difficult? Is the way to salvation terribly narrow and few find it or broadly accomplished by Christ? Another unresolved tension that we live within.
8
Matthew 5:16“Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works.” and
Matthew 6:1 “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them.”
Practice in private or shine? Definitely shine, but don’t shine in your own light. The literalist will struggle to lawyer these words around, but that isn’t necessary. We have a public life and a private life. In both we are to live for God and not for self.
9
Matthew 7:1 “Do not judge.” and
John 7:24 “Judge according to righteous judgment.”
Don’t judge others or you will be judged, but judge a tree by its fruits. All judgment belongs to The Lord, so we are not to formulate any kind of final verdict on anyone’s standing with God. Unfortunately, that is what happens in so many churches—people can find a dozen ways into spiritual one-upsmanship—but we also know that a person with no judgment whatsoever is a fool. We need to exercise wisdom and good judgment in the simpler sense.
For people with faith, none of these paradoxes are deal-breakers. Only with the literalists—with the one-dimensional types—do they cause stumbling.
Why did Jesus teach in parables? So that those with faith could see and hear while others did not. In today’s terms, so that what is three-dimensional could only be seen from the air, once we’ve taken wings to fly. They eyes of faith are three-dimensional; the one-dimensional will never perceive what Jesus teaches until they learn to fly.
Gifts of paradoxes
Why are these paradoxes a gift from God to us? Why must we live with unresolved tensions when we are clearly more comfortable with one-dimensional, propositional, truth statements? I’ll tell you briefly, but these will return again in the coming weeks:
- Paradoxes resist our predilection to dumb things down. We are by nature prone to change terms or reduce what is complex in order to make things easy to grasp and digest.
- Paradoxes transcend partisanship—leaning too hard one way or the other. We are disallowed from making one pole our whole doctrine.
- Paradoxes must surrender ultimate knowledge to the mystery of the Spirit. There are some things we will not know and we can find contentment there rather than anxiety.
- Paradoxes transcend mediocrity. To see both sides is not “sitting on the fence” of every issue, but living with a balance of competing truths. It is not avoidance
- Paradoxes enable us to rise above the barnyard view and see reality from a superior perspective—on aloft from the fray.
Our nation—perhaps our world—is fiercely divided by ideologies and political strife. The role of Christians is not to pick a side and start fighting, or did we not hear Jesus commanding us to be a servant to all others? Christians need a perspective that is a Kingdom perspective, which means we must see the present crises from above the barnyard point of view.
Republicans and democrats, progressives and traditionalists, liberals and conservatives—none have the full picture and neither do you or I. But we know one who does, and we should not be in doubt about where to place our trust when there is conflict and fighting.
If your trust is in a political party, you are fool. If your trust is in a cleverly-designed, worldly ideology, you are a fool. All this world and the things in it are passing away, giving way to the singular Lordship of Jesus Christ. Through Him we know God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and we know there is none other.
God is worthy of our worship; He is worthy of all worship. Let us live to honor Him alone, and let’s get on our wings and soar above the barnyard whenever we’re feeling a bit stressed. †
“MEANT FOR FLIGHT"
A sermon by Noel Anderson for First Presbyterian Church of Upland, Jan 3, 2021
Text: Isaiah 55: 3-9
Kierkegaard’s Parable of the Geese
“A certain flock of geese lived together in a barnyard with high walls around it. Because the corn was good and the barnyard was secure, these geese were quite comfortable.
One day another goose came among them. ‘My friends,’ he would say, ‘can you seriously imagine that this barnyard, with great high walls around it, is all there is to this life? I tell you, there is another and a greater world outside, a world of which we are only dimly aware. Our forefathers knew of this outside world. They stretched their wings and flew across great expanses of land and ocean, across continents and over mountains. But us we remain in this barnyard, our wings folded and tucked into our sides, as we are content to stand in the mud, never lifting our eyes to the heavens which should be our home.’
This goose spoke of the advantages of flight, calling on the geese to be what they were. After all, they had wings, he pointed out. What were wings for, but to fly with? Often, he reflected on the beauty and the wonder of life outside the barnyard, and the freedom of the skies.
The other geese listened attentively. They hung on his every word. They discussed his ideas in their homes and thought about them deeply. All this they did. But one thing they never did. They did not fly! For the corn was good, and the barnyard was secure!”
A variation of this parable tells of a goose in that comfortable barnyard who, whenever the autumn geese flew overhead, heard their honking and longed to be with them. He would look up at the skies an honk away flapping his wings, but because there was plenty of food, he never flew up to join them. In time, when the geese flew overhead, he lost that feeling, didn’t even bother to look up, but just kept pecking the corn below.
Both versions are tragedies because the geese fail to be exactly what God made them to be. They are flyers who had given up flight.
We are meant for flight. Faith, discipleship, and mission are all a matter of using the wings God has given us and getting off the ground.
Wing Pride
The problems begin with what I would call “wing pride”—people who are really into their “wing identity.” Being a member of their party is not a basically rational choice based on careful observations, but a seething enthusiasm, like with rabid sports fans. Winning is everything, and “Our wing is BEST!”
In sports as with political fever, fans project enormous emotion into their team loyalty. That’s why political conventions look a lot like high school pep rallies. There’s no deep discussion; there is just the rah rah of team spirit and the exaltation of the austere dignity of our team or party.
Each side has become like rabid fans for their home team—so rabid that the rules no longer seem to matter.
Two Wings Required
Both planes and geese require two wings in order to fly. One wing won’t cut it. What is more, you must have both a left wing and a right wing. Imagine a plane or a goose that had two left wings or two right wings? It doesn’t work.
Imagine those wings themselves had a will, each thinking: “We should be turning more left/right!” Either wing, if so empowered, will send the plane into a downward spiral.
American Politics 2021
This seems to be the American situation. American politics, 2021. “America needs to steer more left/right!” Our wings seem to fight against each other to pull the plane one way or another. Wing pride becomes a kind a megalomania, wherein we come to think our side can do no wrong.
Even worse, the sides can end up using faith, religion, and even God to support their side:
“Jesus wants us to be a more progressive nation!” or “Jesus wants us to preserve our traditions!”
Both may be somewhat true, but both are wrong to say God is on their side.
I say Jesus doesn’t want us to be more left or more right. It’s not about left or right; it is about Up or Down. vv8-9 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Jesus wants us to step UP. He wants us to use our wings to get off the ground and fly. The very point of having two wings is that we might actually learn to fly again.
This is what we’re exploring in this Learning to Fly series. It’s not just politics, but virtually everything has this same right/left tension. Seeing it is a key to moving forward.
I remind you of the dimmer switches you have in your homes. They are superior replacements for the simply-on-or-off, binary switches we’re used to. The light is merely on or off, but on by 10, 20, 55, 86, or 94 percent. There is a rich difference in the lighting unavailable with the old on/off switch.
POLARITY
A polarity is the connection of opposing ideas held in tension with each other. It’s not the either/or of the end points, but all the points along the line in between that make up the whole. We must get beyond certain polarized ideas and attitudes if we are to live in unity.
Again: it’s not about left or right; Up and Down
At their respective poles, contradictory ideas one of two things:
1. They can cancel themselves out like a double negative, or
2. They can persist by maintaining an unresolved tension.
Unresolved Tensions
This idea of unresolved tension is crucial to this series. We don’t really like unresolved tensions; we prefer things to be either left or right, A or B, black or white—we prefer things in simple binary because it is simple and easy to grasp.
Think of stretching a rubber band between your two thumbs. The further you spread them apart, the stronger the tension; the closer your thumbs, the weaker that tension. The left thumb wants what is left and the right thumb what is right, but the strength and the energy is found only in the both/and of the unresolved tension between them. Critical to this series is understanding these unresolved tensions—this is crucial!
What I’m saying is that in many things—particularly in things of the faith, that binary, either/or nature must surrender to the mysteries of both/and.
Toxic Extremisms
Now a brief aside about fanaticism and the toxic extremism before our final point. Fanaticism is a loss of perspective of the whole. A fanatic so far out on a limb—either to the left or the right—that he can neither see nor understand the larger tree he is on.
It is the prevalence of fanaticism that makes us all long for more adults in the room.
What does it look like when real adults are in the room? We can think of them as referees and umpires (everyone hates them, right?). When there are no adults in the room, you have only the worse, most biased, southern, small-town referees, making every call for the home team.
Today, this is politics and worse, this is the press. And it is a national tragedy.
Fanatics are those who love refs and umpires that are biased for their own home team. Ask them what are good referees like? “Those who make every call favoring my team!” If that’s you, in regard to either sports, politics, or journalism, then you’re clearly one of those try to fly with one wing.
Good refs are objective, fair, and as unbiased as possible. Referees and umpires obviously have a very different perspective from the fans in the stands. They are not at the game to see their favorite team win; they are there with a much bigger picture on the whole game. That game is their living and livelihood, not their pasttime. At a core level, they really don’t care who wins the game; they care that the game is played fairly and according to the rules. A successful game, to them, is one in which the calls were accurate and as unbiased as possible.
I’m saying we Christians need to adopt some of that bigger picture attitude regarding our community and nation, and we need to do it quickly.
Scriptural Truth has 2 Wings
Finally, I want to say that scriptural truth has two wings as well. Jesus teaches in many paradoxes—you know them well already:
Matthew 16:25 “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
Matthew 20: 26-27 “It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave.”
Luke 14:11 “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Luke 6: 37-38 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you…for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”
Theology lives in the balance, in the unresolved tension of paradox like these. And here is the crux of the matter: Perhaps truth is better contained in these paradoxical statements than terms of either left or right. Spirituality requires that we have both wings in the air. This is the only way we can get off the ground, fly, and come to understand the entire landscape from a higher perspective.
This series we’ll be looking at these paradoxes of our faith, and rather than dumb them down or oversimplify them, we will allow them to remain in their native state as unresolved tensions, like that tight rubber band.
The noble life is a matter of learning to live with unresolved tensions, and for those unresolved tensions to be okay with us.
We were not meant to be grounded; we are made for flight—meant for flight—and that is impossible if we insist upon using one wing only.
TO THE TABLE
Scripture says: For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Brothers and sisters, we were meant to fly, not to be caught on the ground.
As we approach the table, let us be mindful that god has made us to be something for his glory. Let us pray that we find our wings, and through this meal find the strength to take to the air.
QUESTIONS
- What was Kierkegaard trying to say to the Church regarding the geese?
- What are the correlations between sports fanaticism and political fanaticism?
- Why do people prefer simplified answers over more complex ones? Why is this potentially dangerous?
- How are referees and umpires like mature adults? Who are the “children” in this analogy?
- What makes us less-than-comfortable with paradoxes, as those used by Jesus?