Sermons

“ROTTEN POLITICIANS"

prophets powers


1 KINGS 18: 17-40 The Message Translation

“Rotten Politicians” 

Today we look at the prophet Elijah and his witness to Israel during the reign of King Ahab and his wife Jezebel, both of whom fostered and encouraged the worship of idols throughout Israel. They were rotten politicians, using their God-given powers only to increase their own wealth and social status.

King Ahab definitely should have known better than to tolerate idolatry, but he was a politician more than a man of God. His marriage to Jezebel was a political one, tying together the Phoenicians and Israelites in peace and cooperation. It’s not unlikely that Jezebel herself served as the chief priestess of the Temple of Baal they set up in Samaria, because it was customary that a royal female serve as high priestess. 

Ahab and Jezebel established idol worship from one end of Israel to the other. The shrines to Baal and Asherah showed everyone how open and broad-minded Israel had now become. Israel was to be progressive rather than parochial or provincial—open-minded and tolerant rather than rigid and inflexible when it comes to religion. Israel would now become cosmopolitan and multi-cultural, and the popularity of Ahab and Jezebel climbed high. Their approval ratings among their own people and foreigners alike polled at 80%, or something like that. 

Baal was the storm god—the god of thunder, wind, rain, and fertility—things very much in demand by all Israelites. They depended upon regular wind and rain for agriculture. Baal was the sky-father-god, and worshipping Baal promised to bring wind, rain, and fertile crops. 

Asherah—also known as Ashtarte or Ishtar—was goddess of war and fertility—two more basic values of the people. She was the earth-mother-goddess, and her bodily cycles as earth-mother produced the seasons and cycles of the agricultural year. 

All pagan worship has some form of Baal and Asherah working: the sky father and the earth mother, with a variety of names depending on the culture of origin, yet all very similar—all focused on the idea of the gods providing the people with what they most want and need to survive: food, fertility, and protection.

These two pagan gods had their idols set up and worshipped throughout Israel, and the people understood that these two were the providers of everything they needed. For Israel, worshipping Ba’al and Asherah had become the thing to do—led by their King, Ahab, their and pseudo-queen, Jezebel. The people had forgotten about the one, true God—the Lord who provided for them, who delivered them from slavery, and led them through the wilderness—even into the land they now occupied. 

So The Lord sends them Elijah. 

Elijah

Elijah is not a prophet among prophets; he is the greatest of the Old Testament prophets with the most important message, which, as we said last week, can be boiled down to two lines: 1. Stop it with the idols! and 2. Worship The LORD only. 

Elijah works a dozen miracles, including raising a widow’s son from death, and parting the waters of the Jordan River, not unlike Moses, and crosses over on dry ground. It is Elijah who appears with Moses and Jesus at the Transfiguration. As such, the very name Elijah evokes all the prophets—the spirit of all legitimate prophecy. 

Elijah doesn’t die, but is taken up to Heaven in a chariot of fire and he drops his mantle down to his successor Elisha on his way up. Jewish literature came to expect Elijah to return prior to the coming of the Messiah as well. The celebration of Passover leaves an empty seat at the table for Elijah—to welcome his arrival prior to the Messiah—and there is an “Elijah’s seat” left vacant at every Bris or Jewish circumcision. And during Jesus’ crucifixion, when he cries out Psalm 22: “Eli, Eli, lema sebachtani!” the people think he’s calling for Elijah—whose name in Hebrew, is pronounced El-lee-yah, which means, “My God is Yah” or Yahweh.

Elijah’s prophecies are all based on a simple theme [I paraphrase]: Oh Israel, remember the Lord your God and return to worshipping Him and Him alone. Turn away from the idols who can do nothing for you and trust in the Lord who does all things for you. 

Now Ahab and Jezebel hate Elijah. His weird messages undermine the new society they are trying to build and bring about. Jezebel and Ahab were elites, elitists. They had all the money and political clout, and the people of Israel surrounded and adored them and followed their lead. They were making Israel great again with their grand campaign of progressivist reforms. And here was this Elijah—a nobody, socially-speaking—a commoner, an old, fundamentalist wacko with the nerve to try to turn the masses against their lawful king. Elites always seek to silence the true prophets.

The culmination of Elijah’s constant prophesying against idolatry comes to a head in the great contest on Mt. Carmel. Elijah knew that Israel needed a decisive moment and a clear revelation from God. And through Elijah, Israel gets both.  

The Contest

So Elijah calls out Ahab and Jezebel and throws down the gauntlet. We’ll have it out—a contest to see exactly who is God and who can actually provide. Ahab has the nerve to call Elijah the “troubler of Israel.” Yes, truth-tellers are often trouble, especially for deflating the hypocrisies of the elites. “You’re the trouble!” says Elijah to Ahab. The contest is planned, and as the people gather on the sun-drenched slopes of Mt. Carmel, Elijah addresses them as God’s people, whom God loves and wishes to redeem. 

“How long will you waffle between two religions? If The Lord be God, then follow Him, but if Baal be God, then follow Him. Choose this day whom you shall serve.” 

450 prophets of Baal—all Ivy League graduates and daily commentators on the ancient cable news shows—set up their altar and gored their ox. They beg the skies, “Baal, answer us, please!” but to no avail. What a spectacle it must have been—hundreds of false prophets begging, dancing, pleading, and falling all overthemselves just to get Baal to do so much as clear his throat. But nothing. 

And Elijah raises the stakes; he starts making fun of them. “Cry louder, he may hear you yet. Does Baal have call waiting? Perhaps he’s on another call. Ah, don’t start getting tired now! It’s only been 6 hours--come on, wake him up, you slackers! Oh, I know—he must be in the bathroom—give him another 15 minutes or so, but by all means, cry louder!”  

The prophets of Baal have grown hoarse. In their desperation, they jump up and down on the altar and cut themselves with knives, thinking perhaps the sight of their own blood flowing might rouse the deaf god to attention. I wouldn’t put it past Elijah to have said during his taunt, “Maybe if you cut yourselves a little—maybe then Baal will respond—go ahead, I’d try it.” The spectacle of 450 prophets in an orgy of blood, self-abasement, and total desperation reaches the final buzzer with nothing but silence from the skies, not even a whisper of wind. “Okay, my turn,” says Elijah.

He rebuilds the altar with twelve stones representing the twelve tribes of Israel and puts his ox on top. He has a trench dug around the altar and then, like pushing all his chips into the pot, he drenches the sacrifices with water not one but three times, leaving the wood water-logged and the trench around the altar filled like a moat. 

Everyone watches Elijah, and this is his greatest moment. 

The Answer in Fire

The taunting is over. Elijah has to step up to the plate and put up or shut up. What he does is beautiful. He prays. He prays a very simple, modest, and short prayer. It’s incredibly brief, but very intense: 

“O God, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, make it known right now that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I’m doing what I’m doing under your orders. Answer me, God; O answer me and reveal to this people that you are God, the true God, and that you are giving these people another chance at repentance.”

It’s a beautiful prayer and even a model for how every person should pray. He calls on God as the one who has revealed Himself through Abraham, Issac, and Jacob. Elijah doesn’t exalt himself as prophet, priest, or king, but presents himself humbly, as a servant—“your servant” he says to God. He prays that The Lord would reveal Himself decisively as a way of saving the people. There’s no drama, no crazy dancing, no cutting, and no waiting. For “immediately,” says the text, immediately fire (or lightning: same word) came down and consumed the sacrifice, the altar, and licked up the water in the trench. Five seconds after Elijah prays Amen, the entire scene is a smoking, steaming heap of ashes. 

The result is the desired effect: repentance. The people fell on their faces and repented of having ever worshipped Baal or Asherah. They renounce paganism and its popularity and they turn back to the Lord God, who alone provides, who alone hears prayers, and who alone calls, rescues, and redeems His people. 

“God is the true God!” they say, “God is the true God!” 

Ignorance versus Hatred

There are those who follow false gods because they don’t know any better. They grew up in a land where pagan gods were the only ones proclaimed. This is innocence born of ignorance; the people can’t follow the Lord if they’ve never heard of Him. This is easily forgivable. The merely ignorant, once exposed to the truth of God, tend to turn to Him. Ignorance is good news because it is correctable and forgivable. 

But what about Ahab and the people of Israel? They knew about God all along. They had known of God’s mighty acts and deeds and how they themselves benefitted from his providence. They knew who God is, but turned to idols nonetheless. Why? Because of Jezebel, or the popular crowds, or the demands of the ruling elites. To know the truth and not serve it is not ignorance; it is hatred. Hatred of God. 

Hatred is knowing the truth but denying it, trading the truth of God for convenience, prestige, popularity, or political power. Those things are false gods every bit as much a Baal and Asherah. Elijah’s question to Israel is God’s question to you and me as well: Whom shall you serve? If the Lord be God, then follow Him, but if something else be God, follow that. To serve the Lord is salvation. To serve anything or anyone else is death and deserves no better. 

The prophets of Baal are slaughtered. They chose to serve what is false and dead rather than the living God. You could say that all along, they were worshipping death instead of God. 

The really sad thing is that neither Ahab nor Jezebel repented, but having been proven wrong, sought to kill Elijah for making it clear to everyone that they were phonies. Like the political elitists in any era, they vowed to silence those that make them look bad, even if that is the truth. Elijah flees for his life.

The Role of Repentance

If we think the heart of this story is God proving Himself to a handful of spectators, then we miss the bigger truth: which is that The Lord is a merciful God who seeks to redeem His people, even from idolatry and hatred of His name. That is the big message and it is marvelous to know that it is true. 

God pursues His beloved sheep, even when they root for the enemy. The key factor for their salvation is God’s self-revelation. The second factor is their repentance. Repentance plays a leading role in this story. People will not believe the truth by seeing a miracle (or else Ahab—who was there—certainly would have repented). The miracle isn’t there to change the minds of non-believers. The miracle is there to call believers back onto the right path through repentance. 

We can think of repentance as turning to God, but it is more often a re-turning to God. A pagan may turn to God, which is wonderful—that is conversion. When a believer falls away, or just falls into the service of anyone or anything other than God, that one is called to re-turn to the Lord. As the people of Israel were called to return and remember The Lord, so we—in repentance—are called to renounce every falsehood that may compete with our devotion to God. 

When we repent, we return—we come home. Like the Prodigal Son, God sends His word and spirit to us in order that we “come to ourselves” and return home. 

When we pray in humility (as Elijah did) and ask God to reveal Himself to us and draw us as His servants, something happens: lightning strikes and we see ourselves as misdirected, or distracted, or spiritually barking up the wrong tree—and we come to ourselves, and know the right thing is to return to the Lord, return to true faith, and to let the rest of the world with its lures and interests be—figuratively speaking—slayed like a bunch of  false prophets. 

Our loving Lord, through Elijah, calls to you and me this morning. What in our lives needs to be slain, abandoned, left behind? What do we need to turn away from as we return to our one, true home? What thoughts, interests, or desires seek to hold your and my attention and keep our gaze off of service to our Lord?

Well, this is the day to choose. Today—right now—let us invite the Holy Spirit to search our hearts and reveal us to ourselves in order that the Lord’s calling become crystal clear to our hearts. Brothers and sisters, it is right and good that in this season of Lent we ask ourselves whether we may may be serving any false gods.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

prophets powers


"Who Do You Think You Are?

 Text: 2 Samuel 12: 1-10 

About Prophets

As we launch on this new series The Prophets and the Powers, I need to start with some basics about prophets—who they are and what it is they do. Many people have the wrong idea about prophets. They think of prophets as foretellers of future events. While that element is there, it is not a major part of being a prophet of God. I’ll suggest that prophets are four things: Truth-tellers, Word-bearers, Critics, and Poets. 


Truth Tellers

Every society needs truth tellers—people who speak what is absolute into the messiness of human opinions. Today, sophisticates don’t even believe in capital T truth. Rather there are your truths and my truths, and if they are at odds they are still both true enough. For these types, truth is just one perspective among others and who is to say that your truth is better than mine. We need truth tellers today more than ever. 

It is this absence of truth—more than any other single factor—that is directly responsible for the erosion of morality. Because if there is no absolute truth, then there is just your morality and my morality, which can be light-years apart from each other and yet both moral enough that we should accept both as equally legitimate. But truth and falsehood must never be placed on the level. 

Scripture is all about truth with a capital T. The center of the Bible is the self-revelation of the one, true God who is absolutely true; and the absolute falseness of the gods we invent for ourselves. And the prophets railing against idolatry is a proclamation of the truth of the one, true God. 

Telling the truth comes as a warning to those living against truth. Those doom and gloom prophecies are not always mystical predictions. Sometimes they are simply the foresight of the logical consequences of the people’s present sin. 

So prophets are truth tellers. They tell the truth whether the people like it or not. 

Word-Bearers

Prophets are also word-bearers. They bear the word of God to the people. That is their job, their calling, and their most basic job description: present the Word of God to the people. 

Through the mouths of the prophets, God reveals His love and mercy by promises and warnings. God’s word is spoken by the prophets. 

Prophets also bear the Word of God who is Jesus Christ by planting every hope and expectation into the people so they would celebrate His arrival.

Prophets are those who bear God’s Word to the people. 

Critics

Prophets are also critics. As Word bearers, they were not purveyors of personal opinions—what they personally thought of things doesn’t play into their role. They certainly felt passionate conviction for the things they shared, but those things were from God and not themselves. 

They called the people to correction, but the course of corrections was not their own. 

Their criticisms articulated how the people had gone wrong, how they had strayed from God and thereby became immoral, ugly, or unclean. As critics, they named human falseness and called people to realign themselves with God who made them and loves them. 

Poets

And fourthly, the prophets were poets. It is clear that they often were unaware that their utterances were prophetic as they made them, as with many of David’s psalms. David’s songs were not written as prophecy, but they were rich in prophetic content nonetheless, and cited for their prophetic power hundreds of years later. David may have thought he was just writing a song, but he ended up proclaiming the Messiah fulfilled in Jesus. 

Others—Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Jeremiah, Amos, Hosea, and more—regularly wrote their prophecies as complex poetry. Not simple, rhyme-y poems, but deep utterances inspired by the Holy Spirit. 

If we can think of David and his shepherd songs like a Bob Dylan type, we can think of Isaiah and Jeremiah as T.S. Eliot types. This means that many of the prophets’ utterances are difficult and must be meditated upon thoughtfully and prayerfully. 

You can take most of what the Old Testament prophets said and boil it down to a couple of basic messages: 

1.  Stop it with the idols!

2. Worship The LORD only.

But because people are people, it needed to be said ten-thousand times in a thousand ways. It’s no different today. There is no one way to preach, teach, or proclaim the good news of Jesus. There is plenty of room for style. 

The prophets spoke God’s truth to power. Pharaoh, foreign armies, kings, the wealthy, the popular masses, and/or the whole collective of humanity—all are powers God sent prophets to address and correct. 

Today, God’s truth is spoken to King David, a man after God’s own heart, by a prophet named Nathan. 

DAVID RECAP

Now, just to bring you up to speed about David, let me remind you that he was a man after God’s own heart. The prophet Samuel sought him out. He was an underdog, the last of seven sons, a shepherd, a guitar player.  

Again and again he proved his love and loyalty for God. He trusted in God when non one else did (remember the story of Goliath?). He demonstrated integrity and mercy even toward Saul who constantly fell into corruption. David sought to glorify the Lord rather than himself in all he did. As king, he was successful in his rule and very much loved. 

But power corrupts, and once David decided he had to have Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, corruption got the best of him. David, this man after God’s own heart, as king had the power to summon Bathsheba to himself. After having his way with her, he calls on her husband Uriah and tries to finagle him into a deceptive cover-up. 

But Uriah is a man of integrity; he won’t relax at home while his brothers-in-arms, the other soldiers, are still sleeping in the field with the mission yet unaccomplished. Uriah is conscientious and noble. 

David plies him with wine, but to no effect. So the next day, David sends good ol’ Uriah the front lines with a letter to general Joab.

11:15 “Set Uriah in the forefront of the hardest fighting, and then draw back from him, so that he may be struck down and die.” 

And Uriah did die, and Bathsheba was now—as a widow—fair game for David, who took her as his wife. The prophet sent to speak the truth to the power was Nathan. Here’s how Nathan did it:

2 Samuel 12: 1-10

1 and the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. 2 The rich man had very many flocks and herds; 3 but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. 4 Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.” 5 Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; 6 he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” 7 Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; 8 I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more. 9 Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. 10 Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. †

NATHAN TACT

Anyone near David would have seen him taking advantage of his powerful position, but for most worldly kings, this kind of thing would have been the norm.  But for God’s people, this was an abomination.  

The vehicle for Nathan’s prophecy was a parable. David has eyes to see and ears to hear, so the story turns David into indignant rage over the injustice of the thing. 

Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Nathan can say, “The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king!” 

Nathan could have just shown up and wagged his finger in David’s face saying “Who do you think you are? Sinner! Sinner!” David might have had his head for it. 

Or Nathan could have rounded up the local gossips and unemployed young adults to form a mob and stage a march outside the palace, making a big scene to get attention and somehow leverage the king into admitting his guilt. But this kind of thing rarely works with kings. 

Nathan possessed a virtue which is long in decline: tact. To be tactful doesn’t mean to be calculating or scheming, but discreet, subtle, sensitive, prudent, and refined in one’s approach. The tactful person continues to honor the one he or she corrects. To be tactful means to be thoughtful and mindful in what one does. Tact refuses to demonize others—even the nastiest of sinners—so it honors God by honoring the image of God in others. 

This seems a far cry from much of America right now. People who would set themselves up in the role of prophet to rail against one injustice or another usually fail  when it comes to refinement. They are neither discrete nor sensitive, neither prudent nor refined. They rush to judgment and love to sling the F word at every possible opportunity. They are on both sides of the political fence, and the word that characterizes their self-righteous advocacies is hostility, the opposite of tact. They speak the truth to power in hatred and vileness. As such, these prophets are false prophets. They do not bear the Word of God, but their own word as if it were the Word of God. But we’ll consider that more when we get to Elijah in this series. 

Nathan, in dealing with David, exercised admirable tact. By couching his critique in a parable, he awakened David’s righteous conscience. It was a short step from there to get David to make the connection. “You are the man!” says Nathan, and rather than fortifying David’s denial or resistance, David immediately falls into repentance. This is the ideal outcome. 

Nathan spoke the truth in love, even when the power he addressed was completely, deeply sinful—totally in the wrong. It was loving not to scold or harangue David (we know that never works, don’t we?). He clearly had thought through his options and with great tact—gentleness and excellent style—helped David toward both the acknowledgement of his sin and the ability to experience the horror of his own injustice, which led to repentance. 

Nathan speaks the truth in love because doing so it redemptive. It addresses David’s evil in a way designed to win David back to God and to good. 

TACT IS A BETTER WAY

Tact is a better way to deal with others as well, even in the home—especially in the home. A colleague of mine was a nationally-known and respected leader of youth ministry. HIs books and resources equipped tens of thousands of youth ministers in this country and around the world. One night his son, a high-schooler, came home three hours late so intoxicated that he couldn’t open the front door of the house. My friend and his wife heard him trying to get in so they both went to the door and opened it. The boy fell on the floor. As my friend tells it, he was enraged at his son. He had steam blasting out of his ears, he was so mad. 

His instinct was to stand his son up on his feet and blast in his face: “WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING! WHY HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING? WHO WERE YOU WITH? EXPLAIN YOURSELF! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? DON’T YOU REALIZE THAT I PUT A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD BY HELPING OTHER YOUTH PASTORS TO GUIDE THEIR KIDS? DON’T YOU SEE THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE THING YOU COULD HAVE DONE TO US AND TO YOURSELF! WHAT KIND OF CHRISTIAN—“ on and on went the thoughts in hi head. 

His wife saved the day—and perhaps her son’s life. As they struggled to hold their beloved son on his feet, she looked to my friend and calmly smiled, and then began to chuckle, because my friend, the boy’s father, wasn’t much different when he was in high school. The voices in his head—his desire to rage—was likely his own father’s voice raging at him years before. 

So here’s what they did. They helped their son get undressed and into bed. They pulled the blinds, turned off the alarm clock, and put a do-not-disturb sign on his door. They put a bucket beside the bed. They let him sleep in till noon. His mother made his favorite breakfast: eggs, bacon, and waffles with a big glass of orange juice with a couple of aspirin on the side. 

At noon, my friend and his wife slowly, gently made their way into their son’s room, set out the beautiful breakfast, and slowly opened the blinds. The boy woke up, looking like death warmed over, and sat up to see his gently smiling parents, who kindly encouraged him to eat. 

The son, who later became a youth pastor, said it was the most uncomfortable meal of his life. He was waiting for his dad to lower the boom, but the boom never came down. He know he had made a mistake. He knew he owed his parents explanations, but he also said, “that one meal changed my life more than any other.” 

When it comes to effective truth-telling, not all ways are equal. Not all are equally efficient or equally good. We should seek to do what is redemptive in approaching the realities of injustice and sin in the world. Our aim is not to be right, but to be helpful and useful in the fulfillment of God’s will. 

It is clear that Nathan did not react—he did not simply shoot from the hip—but rather he assembled a presentation that would do David good and enable him to continue what he was already great at: integrity and glorifying God. It is far more excellent to find the path of redemptive outcomes, and doing so glorifies God who is quick to forgive the sinner who repents. 

That is the good news to you and me as well. God is quick to forgive sinners who repent and return to their one, true Lord. 



“THE WAREHOUSE” Ash Wednesday

 

Matthew 6:1-6; 16-21

HOSPE’S MUSIC IN OMAHA

When I was in high school, I had the greatest job. I worked in Hospe’s Mr. Music in downtown Omaha in building that was over 100 years old—a 7-story brick structure with a huge basement warehouse. My job involved all kinds of things, but over the summers we spent most of our time in the basement processing all the school district’s rental band and orchestra instruments. Rooms-full of trumpets, violins, saxophones, trombones, cellos, oboes, clarinets and more. It took a good part of the summer to get all of those instruments cleaned and ready for September rentals. But one year, something really cool happened. I moved an old bookcase that had tools and empty instrument cases piled onto it, and found a door behind the bookcase! It was summer, and supervision was nearly nil, so me and a co-worker friend decided to break through. The old door wasn’t locked, but it was nearly impossible to open. We took a crowbar and were able to get it open. What we found was an abandoned warehouse—a large room of stuff no one even knew was there! The lights were out so our first task was putting in a few new bulbs. Luckily, the electricity was intact. There was more stuff in that large room than we ever would have imagined! Old desks and dozens of old chairs, all covered with dust, and a veritable junk yard of things that we would spend the rest of the summer inventorying—boxes and boxes and boxes of musical knick knacks, repair projects, ancient party decorations, decades’ old softball uniforms. Such an adventure!. It was a room even the owners seemed to have forgotten. Every day, I went back to work dreaming about what I might find. The owners let me take a bunch of stuff home—an old saxophone, a couple broken guitar amplifiers, a reel-to-reel recorder from the 50s—it was a thrill. I mention this today because that old basement warehouse has ever since been a kind of metaphor for my soul. There are things I know about myself—even some things I keep down in the basement and rarely access—but I always wonder if there is another room, another door hidden down there behind a neglected bookcase, and if I can find it and get the door open, be rewarded by the treasures found there. Maybe, like Hospe’s music, I have closed off doors and forgotten some old things—maybe even on purpose. Things I don’t want to remember. Things I meant to fix but didnt’ or couldn’t. 

Self-awareness is like the owners of that building. They had a warehouse of stuff down in the basement they didn’t even know was there. They were richer than they imagined. These next 40 days are all about increasing our self-awareness—about going down into the basement and having a good look inside our souls. There may be stuff down there that we don’t want to deal with—broken things we’ve stuffed into old closets—maybe even a whole warehouse that we’ve sealed away behind a bookcase. 

Sin is a universal aspect of being human. We all have sins, but we may not all be honest about them. We may be much better at seeing the sins of others than our own. We may prefer picking the specks out of others’ eyes rather than dealing with our own abandoned basement warehouse.

Lent is the time of year we dedicate to taking inventory of our soul’s basements. For every rotten thing we find, we have a choice: We can hide it away in an even deeper and darker corner, We can just ignore it and pretend we don’t see it, or we can deal with it. 

Like an old saxophone or an old guitar amplifier: maybe it can be fixed with some work and care, or maybe it needs to be thrown in the dumpster for good. 

But I’m saying that Lent is about responsibility. We go down into that basement intending to find and unburden ourselves of the junk. That old, lost warehouse needs to be cleaned out, inventoried, scrubbed, painted and have the lights turned on. 

How much better it feels NOT to be hiding stuff away, not to be walking around on the 7th floor upstairs constantly mindful that there is junk corruption in the basement that needs to be dealt with that you really don’t want to deal with. Lent is time for spring cleaning, and we go into that basement with wonder and energy, because we belong to Christ, and we know that there is nothing down there that can destroy us. 

WE confess because we are forgiven. We confess because we are beyond condemnation. We confess because that building—with all its basement secrets—belongs to Christ and we are eager to hand it over to Him in better shape. 

The end result of repentance and confession is not to make ourselves feel like “I’m much less of a sinner” but rather  “I’m far more aware of my complicity in sin and far less likely to avoid responsibility”

Our work, this Lent, is a gift we offer to God. We labor to turn over to Him a clean basement—one cleared of  clutter and corruption. 

He works beside us in every hour. He discovers these rooms with us—in fact, His Spirit reveals them. He opens the doors we cannot open ourselves. He provides the new light bulbs and the white paint for the walls. He even delights in toting the biggest and heaviest items out to the dumpster. All we have to do is surrender each item and every room to Him. 

Imagine what it would feel like to know that the basement was clean. To know that you can walk down there anytime you like and find clean, bright, well-ordered rooms. 

And even then, there are doors to be discovered. When we open them, we find treasures from heaven supplied to us by our Lord—extra warehouses of good things, and two more basements that we didn’t know were there, only these are clean and filled with good things by which he equips and enriches us. 

I love Lent.  Who knows what we may find? Brothers and sisters, let’s go about our exploration with gladness, free from fear or anxiety, for God loves us. He’s on our side. He wants us to be free of old burdens and filled with good things. Let’s make Lent 2021 a great adventure, and may we meet Easter with greater Joy than we ever would have imagined!

“WINGS OF LOVE"


A sermon by Noel Anderson for First Presbyterian Church of Upland, Jan 3, 2021

Text: Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

THE NOBLE LIFE

Today we conclude our Learning to Fly series. From the start, we have looked at the paradoxes running through Scripture and concluded that these paradoxes’ unresolved tensions contain the truth better than either side of the equation can by itself. We need two wings to fly, and the unresolved tensions inherent in so many aspects of Christian spirituality are the very thing that helps us get off the ground and see things from a new and superior perspective. 

I thought I’d share a couple more paradoxes that might have been developed in a more extended series. 

Conversion: Our action or an act of God? 

This is another unresolved tension with excellent scriptural support for both sides. We experience coming to faith as a significant decision, yet we affirm that faith is a gift from God, not a work of the will. 

Salvation: Christ’s sacrifice for all or just for some? 

Again, we find verses affirming that Christ’s suffering was sufficient to save all flesh, but also many verses limiting the scope to God’s elect. 

Holiness: God requires it, and it is humanly impossible.

The Bible maintains God’s calling to holiness, even as it tells the story of humankind’s propensity for sin. We are called to be holy, but we can’t be holy. We live in that tension. One more:


Virtue: Is it a personal responsibility or a spiritual gift?

Spiritual discipline is our constant effort to live out of love—also to embody faith, hope, peace, patience, kindness, self-control, and other gifts—but gifts they are, and we only attain them when given them by the Holy Spirit. So, though we work on being virtuous, we can’t succeed in virtue. Unless God gives us such a gift, we will not have it. 

I mention these because the series never ends. We should all be vigilant in identifying the paradoxical nature of most things in life—especially spiritual things. There is no realm of human thought or action which, once you get out of the shallow water into the deeper water, isn’t underlaid with paradoxes. We do well to seek them out and to identify them as we can. Then, we seek to live with an eye to balance, acknowledging the two wings required to get us off the ground. 

Our take-home truth in this is acknowledging that the noble life—the most excellent Christian life—lives with some unresolved tensions and unanswered questions. There are some things we simply will not know. That can be a source of anxiety for some, and that anxiety can drive people to extremes. 

It’s okay not to know everything, and it is a sign of maturity to be okay with unresolved tensions. We can and should tolerate paradoxes. Doing so is a healthier—and more accurate—perspective than that of the barnyard, the bubble, and the echo chamber of party ideologies. 

We can observe this in America’s political scene with great accuracy. 


EXTREMES AND IMMORALITY

If we think of American politics on a bell curve, we see that most people are neither far left or far right, but somewhere closer to moderate. This is the normal distribution and any issue or hot topic as well. Most people are somewhere around the middle ground, but the press is devoted to the extreme voices—the radicals, revolutionaries, and purists of the more extreme right and left. 

The more news we watch, the more we are aware of our division. News used to speak from the moderate center; now, most stations—and the few remaining newspapers—can be easily plotted on the spectrum. Most of them have abandoned the kind of journalism that speaks from the center, though they all like to think of themselves as being fair, balanced, and reasonably objective.

But here’s the thing I’ve noticed with the extremes—both the extreme right and extreme left: the further you move toward an extreme, the more likely you are to turn a blind eye to your own side’s faults. The further you move toward an extreme, the more you are willing to tolerate immorality. 

It’s the same on both sides. Left-wing news sources applauded and encouraged protests and even rioting through the past year. The anger, rage, and violence were met not with condemnation but sympathy and understanding. “This anger is justified because of injustice!” they would say. 

And on the right, the same people who were outraged by Bill Clinton’s indiscretions—the same people crying out that “character matters!”—somehow were able to overlook Donald Trump’s infidelities (he actually brags about adultery in one of his books), his egotism, narcissism, and patent incapacity to repent of sins or even admit mistakes. Immorality was tolerated, overlooked, or just devalued in light of other priorities. This happens at both extremes and even on the way toward the extremes. 

With the increase of tolerance of immorality comes the rise of hypocrisy as well. One side blames the other for the exact thing they do themselves. 

Quiz: Which party spokespeople said: “They’re going to try to steal the election!” Both sides. 

“This rioting is unacceptable!” Both sides. 

“We’re the party of the working men and women!” Both. 

“They (the other party) have fumbled this Covid crisis!” Again, both. 

Why do the extremes come to tolerate immorality? Because they lose sight of their own. They have logs in their eyes as they try to pick specks out of the eyes of others. Because they love themselves and their cause, they despise those who disagree and demonize their opponents. 

As much as they tolerate immorality in support of their movement, they also become major league hypocrites. Extremists—left or right—are birds of a feather. Did it strike you as almost funny that several Antifa anarchists managed to slip in with the pro-Trump protesters virtually unnoticed? The problem is that our bell graph is 2-dimensional—flat—but in reality, these extremes meet. You have to fold the ends back together. The extremists have a lot more in common than they would ever admit. 

With the increase of extremes comes an increase in hypocrisy. Again, the extremists left and right tend to become mirror images of each other. And far too often, along with that hypocrisy comes a noxious self-righteousness. Intoxicated with their cause, they become—in their own minds—martyrs and saints for good, and their perceptions of reality become increasingly distorted, and moral blindness follows. We hear them justifying their extremism as well, usually in some form of the phrase: “The ends justify the means.” 

“Come on,” they say, “you have to be a little extreme to move the needle even to the middle.” 

“Sometimes the pendulum doesn’t swing without a bit of force.”

“If you want to gain five yards, you have to shoot for 10 or 20!” 

All of these are just synonyms for “the ends justify the means.” 

For Christians, let’s be clear on this: The ends never—NEVER—justify the means. The means themselves are the measure of Christian character. The means mean everything. For us, the means are so vital that we would rather sacrifice the ends than morally compromise the means. 

Now, if you’re thinking, “What about Martin Luther, or Harriet Tubman, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer? These people did what was conventionally considered illegal for the greater good. Sometimes great people do what is immoral to achieve a more significant outcome, don’t they? To that, I’d say, “Yes! Of course, you’re correct—but you are not Martin Luther, Harriet Tubman, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer—they and their type make up less than zero-point-zero-one percent of the population. They are the exceptions that prove the rule. They were all game-changers—great game changers—and I say that we, too, can be game-changers, but not by rushing in to join in with extremists. 

The Bible gives us a different tack. 

1 If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13: 1-3).

Noisy gongs, puffed up with knowledge, moving mountains, virtue signaling—that’s all earthly politics in three verses. But Paul lays in the course for correction here as well. 


THE PARADOX OF LOVE

The gospel of Jesus Christ turns the world upside down. So what happens if we flip that bell curve over on its head? I’m not too sure, but it does kind of look like it has two wings and could fly (which I like because it fits this series so well), but let’s consider movement on this inverted curve. With the bell inverted, we would move down to something in common. Call it the common good. This opposite movement—away from extremes back toward the center—would serve our unity as a people and as a nation. 

In practical terms, we move there by rejecting the extremes. We move by practicing love, and love demands more excellent vision and that higher perspective that can only come when we fly above the barnyard below. That’s politics and flesh.

And so we finish Learning to Fly with the paradox of love.

Romans 5: 8 puts it succinctly: 

But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. …While we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son.

God loves us, God loves His enemies, and God loves our enemies, therefore we, too, should love our enemies. Here is the gospel in a sentence: 

God loves us, therefore we should love our enemies. 

As God loves us, we should love others, and that means loving our enemies. By the way, there is no safe space on that bell curve. Even if you would park yourself dead center moderate, remember that it is not a line, but a circle—those extremes bend back to meet each other—and extremists both right and left would say that you, Mr. or Mrs. Moderate Peacemaker, are a mediocre, do-nothing, enabler of the evil status quo, and your silence is a vile violence much worse than their impassioned vandalism. Extremists are hand-in-hand on that score. 

Everyone has enemies to love, and this is a great gift to us, because it demands that we get off the ground and out of the barnyard and love beyond reason. But this also is the beginning of real flying. It is in loving our enemies that our love leaves the ordinary and approaches something like God’s agape love for us. 

There is no justification for hatred. Ever. The ends never justify the means. The means themselves constitute our character. And Jesus tells us that the means are all about love. Love God, love neighbor, love your enemies, and love yourself. 

This is the moment to trust God.

Today is the day to respond to God’s love.

We respond to God’s love by re-creating ourselves in the image and likeness of God’s love. The Holy Spirit is God’s gift to guide us in this. 

Today—in fact, right now—is the perfect time to abandon the extremes of this world and to abandon the mediocrity of comfort and resolve to live by love instead. The Spirit calls to you that you would be saved. Turn from your former ways of thinking. Take on the new mantle of Christ and surrender yourself to Him entirely. Resolve to follow Him and live by His love. Spread your wings, heed the call—there are angels just overhead. 

                                              © Noel 2021