Sermons
THREE ANGELS OF OUR BETTER NATURE
“Three Angels of our Better Nature”
Ephesians 5: 1-4
1 Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. 2 And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. 3 But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. 4 Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.†
In need of Angels
When Abraham Lincoln delivered his First Inaugural Address, he finished his remarks with:
I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
The better angels are human motivations—empathy, self-control, conscience, and reason —that can orient us away from violence and towards cooperation and altruism. Those better angels are needed in today’s America every bit as much as in Lincoln’s.
For Lincoln, the better angels were virtues crucial to preserving the union—a call to rise above what divides us and chart course transcending the lowest and meanest of motives.
For us, such angels still have work to do. I want to suggest three angels as a complement to last week’s three monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, but first a bit of background to our text.
“imitators”
First century poet Antipater of Sidon documented the Seven Wonders of the ancient world, crowning the collection in Ephesus:
I have set eyes on the wall of lofty Babylon on which is a road for chariots, and the statue of Zeus by the Alpheus, and the hanging gardens, and the colossus of the Sun, and the huge labour of the high pyramids, and the vast tomb of Mausolus; but when I saw the house of Artemis that mounted to the clouds, those other marvels lost their brilliancy, and I said, "Lo, apart from Olympus, the Sun never looked on aught so grand"
First century Ephesus, a port city on the southwest coast of Turkey, bustled with trade, wealth, leisure, and pleasure. The Temple of Artemis guaranteed huge festivals and a booming market for tourism.
The temple contained a statue of the goddess Artemis, which was said to have fallen from Heaven (Jupiter,literally).
Artemis—Diana to the Romans—was goddess of the hunt, wild animals, virginity, and childbirth. She was the ultimate Amazon, standing in as the personification of Mother Nature, and her statue and temple were the pride of Ephesus.
In Acts 19, we hear the story of an Ephesian named Demetrius, spokesman for the local silversmiths’ guild. It seems Ephesus did a brisk business in silver souvenirs. Replicas of the temple or of the famous statue of Artemis seemed to be in high demand, especially when you consider that each imitation of the statue and temple were believed to contain something of the spirit of the goddess herself. This was paganism and idolatry, yes, but it was also the standard for a healthy economy.
The Pagan Businessman’s Association of Ephesus was up in arms against both Jews and Christians because their fourth quarter numbers were way down. Jews and Christians had been telling everyone (including tourists) that these were not gods. The businessmen rallied and protested in the streets. They paraded their way to the local amphitheater and dragged in a couple of Christians as scapegoats for their poor profits.
For two hours the people chanted: “Great is Artemis of Ephesus!”, shouting down any and all who wanted to speak or otherwise make sense of things. Finally, cooler heads prevailed and the mob disbanded, having heard a wiser head say, “There’s a proper way to do this; this isn’t it”
Paul’s word to the Christians of this town wa to be imitators of God.
In a town of people who had made a living imitating the image of Artemis, believing that the imitations contained the full spirit of the deity, Paul directs the Christians build their lives imitating the image of God in Christ.
v.15 Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ,
In the same way local idolators contained the power of Artemis in handcrafted images of the goddess, Christians are to contain the Holy Spirit of God in their own persons.
How do we imitate God? We imitate the Father by loving like the Son. I’ll suggest three angels of our better nature to illustrate that imitation.
Angel 1: Michael
Michael means“Who is like God?” Michael, the defender of Israel, is one who sees God for who God is. In contrast to “seeing no evil” we might rather focus on seeing God’s goodness all around us.
In Alice Walker’s The Color Purple, we are told “it’s a sin not to see the color purple.” as if to say that God worked pretty hard to come up with it, so it is a kind of insult to pass it by without appreciation.
Throughout the gospels we are told that there are those who have eyes to see with but do not see. We need to be those who see—those who get it spiritually. We get it when we see that God is God and begin to live with gratitude. As Christ is the logos, the one through whom all things are created, he is the creator and source of all beauty, all truth. We are given our eyes in order to see the beauty of Christ everywhere in all things.
That goes for seeing other people as well—each one as a masterpiece upon which is the proud signature of our Lord. It comes down to us practicing one of two attitudes:
We either advocate with God, standing alongside him aligned with his great love and valuing of every person—every creature he has made and upon whom is his signature—or we stand opposed to that love and approval. When we stand against our neighbor—or even our enemy!—we stand against God’s love that goes out to that person.
Surely our hope is to be aligned with God’s love! A good start is to see God’s signature upon every other person.
What kind of people can do this? What kind of people see God’s beauty in all things every day? How do you describe someone who sees every other human being along the lines of God’s love for them? You call them happy. In their seeing, they are imitations of Christ.
Angel 2: Gabriel
The name Gabriel means “God is my strength.” Gabriel is the bearer of God’s message—the one who delivered God’s Word to Mary and Zechariah. When Gabriel speaks, he speaks not his own will or message, but relays the Word of God. Here, in contrast to the “hear no evil” monkey, we have and angel who calls us to hear God’s Word.
Again, we have a world of people who have ears to hear with, but may not be hearing God’s Word.
God’s Word can come to us in many ways, as Jesus can speak to us through all things. We meet the Word in nature, in the faces of the poor or of dear friends, and most certainly through Scripture.
Karl Barth says:
“God may speak to us through Russian Communism, through a flute concerto, through a blossoming shrub, or through a dead dog: We shall do well to listen to him if he really does so."
God can speak to us through anything, but has clearly and decisively speaks to us through the revelation of Jesus Christ through Scripture.
We need to have open ears and open hearts—all receptive to hearing God’s Word wherever it may be found—but where we may hear God speaking through anything, we must expect and be tuned in to hearing his Word every time we open up Scripture.
The Bible is the Word of God by the work of the Holy Spirit who opens our ears and hearts whenever we open its pages.
Angel 3: Uriel
Most Christians are probably unfamiliar with the name Uriel. The name Uriel means“The Lord is my Light.” He is associated with Sunday and poetry. Uriel is the angelic companion to the third monkey, speak no evil.
Paul exhorts the Christians at Ephesus that there be
no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking,
but rather
let there be thanksgiving.
The world around us speaks a lot of darkness in very dark terms. Some of it is “humorous,” but in general, what the eyes and ears take in will shape the tune of what emerges from one’s the mouth.
There are people who see only darkness in the world—hypocrisies, lies, deceptions, greed, selfishness—and the result is lots of hot air and groaning.
As we were given eyes to see the beauty of Chirst and ears to hear God’s Word, so we are given mouths to express gratitude and praise.
When we see or hear God, praise is the appropriate and natural response. The one who sees God will irresistibly proclaim that God is good. The ears that hear him will break out in song (figuratively, at least)>
We were given mouths in order to praise God and to participate in the eternal song of his glory.
This being Jazz Sunday, we would do well to think of ourselves as instruments. Like this saxophone, we are imperfect. Our brass has tarnished spots, the leather pads are wearing thin, and the reed may be worn or even split. We are imperfect, but the song can come through us nonetheless.
Isn’t this our hearts—yours and mine? Is there a deeper prayer to prayed other than: “Lord, let me be an instrument of your peace, grace, love, and praise!”? What is our prayer life if not a constant invitation for God to magnify his Holy Spirit within us—that he would become more and we would become less?
Is there any clearer personal path to growing into the image of Christ other than to become utterly self-emptying, inviting and allowing the song that comes from God’s own heart to flow into us and through us, emerging from us as the music of praise to God’s glory?
This is what we are after: to be instruments in God’s hands. To be vehicles of his Spirit, relays of his Word, collectors and amplifiers of his goodness.
Brothers and sister, I am no fan of musicals (God bless you all who enjoy them), but I think the Christian life should be replete in those moments when the simple dialogue begins to swell and you know a song is coming on.
For us, it is seeing and hearing God all around us—meeting us every day—eliciting from our souls songs of joy. We, like David, live our lives wanting to dance before the altar, enjoying with great joy the privilege of walking this life with God!
What kind of people do that? Happy ones—ones that increasing look like the life of Christ.
All That Jazz
The world around us is filled with lots of noise, lots of it dark indeed. Closing our eyes, ears, and mouths to evil may protect our innocence and defend our spiritual temples from pollution, but we are here for a purpose greater than self-defense; we are here to take part in the eternal glorification of God, which is our eternal joy as well.
We—the Body of Christ—are very much like a jazz band. We are as different one from another as a saxophone from a piano, a drum kit from a stand-up bass, but the song that comes through us by the Spirit unites and combines us to produce an amazing song.
We need that unity in a divided America today. We need that song to be heard by broken and despairing hearts. America’s eyes and ears are searching for something true and good to believe in and follow.
May we—you and I—become carriers, couriers, and transmitters of that song. We learn the tune by having open eyes and ears; we play that song whenever we open our mouths in thanksgiving or praise to God.
C’mon cats! and a one and a two and a….†
THREE MONKEYS TO SAVE WESTERN CIVILIZATION
“Three Monkeys to Save Western Civilization”
Titus 1: 10-16
10 There are also many rebellious people, idle talkers and deceivers, especially those of the circumcision; 11 they must be silenced, since they are upsetting whole families by teaching for sordid gain what it is not right to teach. 12 It was one of them, their very own prophet, who said,
“Cretans are always liars, vicious brutes, lazy gluttons.”
13 That testimony is true. For this reason rebuke them sharply, so that they may become sound in the faith, 14 not paying attention to Jewish myths or to commandments of those who reject the truth. 15 To the pure all things are pure, but to the corrupt and unbelieving nothing is pure. Their very minds and consciences are corrupted. 16 They profess to know God, but they deny him by their actions. They are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work.
Mayhem & Media
America seems to be going completely crazy. Consider: we have the greatest affluence, the longest lives, the most expansive and technologically-advanced medical care in all of history—right here, right now—so there is every reason for all Americans to live in peace, harmony, and freedom. For the lives we able to live, we should wake every morning with a happy song on our lips and a prayer of gratitude in our hearts—just to be here. We are so blessed! Every one of us lives a quality of life with a standard of living superior to that of most of history’s kings and queens. Far better to be a commoner in the 21st Century United States than royalty in the 18th, 19th, or even early 20th century.
Are we a happy people? A joyous, contented, grateful, appreciative people? Afraid not. Turn on the news: what is the song we hear rising up from our streets (which, relative to the rest of the world, are paved with gold)? Are our children or children’s children waking to sing “God Bless America” with tears of gratitude? No—it sounds more like the cry of a collective, preschool tantrum.
We are on the verge of replacing “The Star-Bangled Banner” as our national anthem in favor of a new song called, “The Temper Tantrum Wail”. A free people with the greatest royal inheritance the world has ever known has made complaining the new national pastime. Like spoiled, identical twins on their birthday, each complaining that the other has received a larger slice of cake, we are divided by a sinful obsession with self-interests.
As surely as the moon will eclipse the sun tomorrow, the religion of Selfism is eclipsing the Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. No—today it is me and my interests up and against you and yours. This is not America—or at least, it is not the dream we are supposed to share.
The historical faith of America—a broad, generous Christianity—also seems to be suffering the waxing darkness of a slow eclipse under the new religion of Selfism—and not just Selfism, but Extreme, Radicalized Selfism. Vainglory is becoming the new prime virtue:
“Me and my identity are all that matter!”
The vice of vainglory is a demonic voice whispering in America’s ear: “You deserve better treatment than this! You should have more! Good is not enough! Time to complain, gripe, grouse, moan, and yell in the streets!”
As we see most recently in Boston and Charlottesville, the political extremes increasingly become less rational, more wacko—be it Alt-Right or Antifa—more violence-prone, less capable of negotiation, less willing to find compromises and middle ground—rather factions, each crying My way or the highway, angrily seek to force their own bubble over the entire nation, each faction self-righteous and pride-swollen—all apparently incapable of appeasement short of having their own way, the way they want it, right now. These attitudes make for a very dysfunctional family, a very bad team, and guarantee our decline (if not our demise).
The passions and divisions are only exacerbated by the ever-present eye of 24/7 news coverage——CNN, MSNBC, FOX, Salon, Huffington Post, Breitbart, Drudge Report—like great swarms of flies looking for another pile of manure to attack and dissect—scavengers in search of corpses for hourly tweets and headlines. We may have once imagined that journalism was a noble profession—truth-telling and speaking the truth to power—but that seems to be a dream now quickly-dissolving in the mad dash to boost ratings, sell more ads, and increase profit margins for their shareholders.
And we, the Church—American followers of Jesus Christ—find our role and response either co-opted by these same interests or otherwise ill-defined. The Church remains—as it always has—in constant danger of going with the flow and selling out our faith to the terms of popular culture.
Activists accuse us of putting our heads in the sand by not staking our claim on one political side or the other. It seems they would have their zealotry divide the Body of Christ as well as the country. If John and Jane Q. Public are not jumping forth to serve their particular cause—their ideology and self-vaunting narrative—then they get quickly vilified.
And so we see that self-righteous causes always find a way to spit in the face of humility, just as the self-righteous Sanhedrin spit in the face of Christ.
What then is our course? How ought we as a Church respond to the fragmentation and general mayhem that surrounds us? Well, there’s good news and bad: the good news is that we know the answer—we know what we’re supposed to be doing, for we have been learning it throughout Christian history—humility, love, trusting in God—these are nothing new to us, though we need to relearn them year by year. The bad news is our country has become uninterested in the idea of answering to a Righteous God. It seems all care is directed only toward popular opinion as measured by Twitter followers and hits to one’s YouTube channel.
I’m going to suggest this morning, in line with our text from Titus, that there are three monkeys that can point the way to health and sanity. From the old, camp kitsch of the three monkeys that might have been found on your grandmother’s library shelf: See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, we get a prescription for what ails us—an antidote to the poisons of overexposure and raging pridefulness.
1. See No Evil
There was a time when the sights of what is evil—things violent or otherwise inappropriate—would have caused people to turn their heads or cover their eyes. Covering your eyes at the scene of an accident, covering the eyes of your children, or looking away from something evil—are the norms in a gentler world. With the ever-present eye of cheap cameras and the internet, we become more accustomed to watching things we would be healthier not to watch.
Seeing no evil means we refuse to support or patronize the businesses dedicated to filling our eyes, heads and hearts with all things evil. There’s pornography and violence pornography, both forms of voyeurism—watching someone else’s pain or pleasure from a safe distance.
Our eyes are doorways to our souls, so what we take in—what we allow ourselves to watch—can affect our souls. We can pollute and otherwise damage our hearts by what we allow in through our eyes. I’ll recommend three ways we can resolve to see no evil:
We must learn how to turn away.
Not in fear but in self-respect.
We will not make a habit of bringing things in which darken the soul God intends for light.
TV, movies, internet—all make it their business to push the envelope and violate your personal boundaries. They want in so they can get you to buy their products. Stay on guard. Do not let them in. Turn away, change the channel.
We renounce voyeurism
Voyeurism has been almost normalized, but it wasn’t long ago that it was considered a perversion even by the American Psychological Association. To look on for the thrill of watching another real person suffer real tragedy, horror, or anything else that is truly that person’s own business is unbecoming for the Christian. Be it the rich, angry housewives of Orange County, salacious intimacies, or even the news—we must be willing to protect and defend our souls from garnering an appetite for spying on others.
We will not settle for being spectators
We may feel we are sitting at a safe distance when we’ve got our feet up on the ottoman in the privacy of our dens, but we are not unaffected by what comes into our souls through our eyes. Evil will find its way into your inner sanctum so far as you allow it to do so. We should not settle for spectating, because there is no such thing as “merely watching” in the spiritual world. If you and I are willfully observing evil, we may be enabling evil.
In our homes, there may be fewer things more morally significant than simply changing a channel, blocking a webpage, or just turning it all off, at least for a while.
2. Hear No Evil
What is true of our eyes is true of our ears as well. Through our ears we can take in the good news of Jesus Christ, but we can also take in unspeakable evils. Our ears are also doorways into our souls.
In our regular circles—family, neighborhood, community, school, or workplace—we hear lots of chatter every day. People love to gripe and cut down others who are out of earshot. Things we hear can get into us and rattle around in our hearts. The worst of them can get in there and be difficult to get rid of. Ever heard of an earworm—infectious songs or ads that get into your head and rattle around in there against your will?
1. Most Christmas songs by Christmas: Felix Navidad
2. “It’s a Small World”
3. “We Built This City”
4. Cat food commercials “Purina Cat Chow” “I want tuna, I want liver, I want chicken please deliver”
6. (for me personally) Anything by Billy Joel
Sad thing is that it’s usually songs you really dislike. Talk about demons—I’m afraid I’ll now have “Piano Man” stuck in my head until Thursday afternoon. “It’s a small world aaaafter all; it’s a small world aaafter all…).
If I can get past the songs blaring in my head, I’ll recommend three things we can do to hear no evil:
We will learn to filter
This is selective listening. While some of us do this unconsciously (usually men, and especially when our wives suggest honey-do items), we can also do this deliberately. Someone makes an off-color remark, tells a joke that crosses a line, says something we find slightly offensive—in all cases we can send up the red flares or we can take it with a grain of salt. Yes, there are times to make it clear that someone has crossed a line and clearly offended, but others when we feel tempted to file that offense as something to hold against a person—a legitimacy for judging—rather than just letting it go.
Filtering means we consciously cut others a fair amount of slack because they are human beings—flawed children of God like us all. Sometimes it is best to let it slide and forget it, even as there are times to confront the offense and win one’s good will back.
Filtering is a way we keep ourselves from feeling polluted by what others may say.
We renounce gossip
I think again of the news, which absolutely thrives on gossip—which is evil talk—and keeping other people’s score (especially politicians and celebrities). Gossip is destructive by nature—evil in both its intent and affects.
The antidote is something like loyalty.
Once, I did something right. Can’t say I always have, but when I was working under a Senior Pastor in a large church, I was being handed a raw deal. Several church leaders came to me to express their disappointment with the Senior Pastor and let me know they wanted to take my side in any upcoming conflict. I told them: “I’m sorry, but I can’t hear a word against him!” They snickered. They knew I was being mistreated, but as God is my strength, I was clearly led to express loyalty without exception (in spite of my personal feelings). Leaving that church, I could have created a huge mess, but with God’s help, I refused to indulge myself the satisfaction of gossip. I believe I am much happier and healthier today for having done so.
When it comes to gossip, we need to be more like cul-de-sacs than intersections. When we hear evil about someone else, it needs to stop with us.
We believe in the virtue of innocence
The world believes in sophistication, which is in part the ongoing violation of innocence. Sophisticates can only see innocence as naivety. All who are sullied want everyone else sullied as well. The polluted want everyone else to be polluted as well. Here speaks the book of Titus most eloquently:
To the pure all things are pure, but to the corrupt and unbelieving nothing is pure. Their very minds and consciences are corrupted.”
In all things, by refusing to see evil and hear evil, we exercise the right kind of self-respect: refusing to become the garbage can for other people’s refuse.
3. Speak No Evil
I’ve done many funerals for wonderful Christian people. One of the most impressive things I have heard several times is: “She never said a bad word about anyone!”
How fallen I know myself to be by comparison! And how wonderful and excellent a thing to be able to say about someone! Think about it: you know someone like that, don’t you—someone who never had a bad word to say about anyone else? How does your heart feel about that person?
I feel envy, and I’ve got to believe that if there is a right kind of envy, it is to envy virtue.
How do we speak no evil? Three suggestions:
We will learn how to bless.
I will say this is the best of the three and perhaps the most important. Christians must learn how to speak the truth, but to do so by speaking more of the good and less of the bad.
If we were to take a poll and hear every person’s response to the question: “Who was your most significant mentor in life?” I am sure every answer would include a story about how that someone blessed us. Someone important to us told us we were attractive, or smart, or good in a meaningful way that hit our hearts. Someone blessed us along the way.
It is not in our nature to be affirmers—we’re all much better at cursing the darkness than lighting lights—but surely this is part of what Jesus means for us when he says, “no one lights a lamp and puts it under a bushel.” Our light is meant to shine, and it rarely shines brighter than when we purposefully bless others.
We would all do well to improve our capacity to bless others and be a blessing to our world.
We renounce slander
Sometimes we can’t help but hear evil—horrid things about others that we afterwards wish we hadn’t known—but we can reject the practice of slander. Slander is character violence, a means to tear down and destroy—never to build up. Slander is the polar opposite of blessing. To slander is to curse. We should renounce slander in every form, and seek to undermine its power in our world.
We will be buck-stoppers
We are to be buck-stoppers, not back stabbers. By speaking no evil we refuse to pass on the evil we’ve heard. Again: we are to be cul-de-sacs, not intersections for evil talk. People may pass the buck to us, but can’t we just allow the buck to stop with us?
This is the pattern of the cross. Jesus absorbed the evils of the world, not returning the deserved, righteous judgment, but mercy and forgiveness. The evil stops with him. As he commands we carry a cross as his followers, we too should be cul-de-sacs, last station stops, final destinations, for the evils we hear. We can take those evils and leave them at the cross, where Jesus bears them away to an infinite distance.
What evil comes to us, ends with us. A lot of people think of Christians as terribly fragile or terribly sheltered, or both. They look at Christians as though they’ve never heard a dirty word. Why would they think that? Why should they? Is it that they see in us people whose innocence hasn’t been utterly forfeited? It is right and good that they should see us as innocent, because the evils we see and hear (as we live our lives in a fallen world) are not what shapes our character in their broken image. Rather we are shaped into the image of Christ—the one who absorbs all evil and gives only goodness back in return. This is our goal, for he is our image, and by the work of the Holy Spirit we are growing into him.
What evil comes to us, ends with us, and hat is the power of Christ working in us.
May we become such people that others would say of us: “She never said a bad word about anyone.” †
In the Rough
“In the Rough”
Luke 8: 4-15
4 And when a great crowd was gathering and people from town after town came to him, he said in a parable: 5 "A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. 6 And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. 7 And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. 8 And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold." As he said these things, he called out, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." 9 And when his disciples asked him what this parable meant, 10 he said, "To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God, but for others they are in parables, so that 'seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.'
11 Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. 12 The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. 13 And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. 14 And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. 15 As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.
Roughing It Golf
Golf—the very word conjures one of a multiple pictures—either golden hours spent in verdant pastures relaxedly savoring God’s good creation, or a completely hellish eternity of weeds, sand, and water as you hack up hunk after hunk of turf trying move that stupid, dimpled, Dodo egg toward an impossibly small goal. Golf is no game for perfectionists.
I tend to play in the rough. Being a big guy, I’m a big hitter. My drives—and often third or fourth shots—tend to veer out where the weeds and tall grasses grow. Yeah, leave the low grasses to the sissies, I say—anyone can hit a ball off pleasant green carpeting—but it takes real golfers to swing a wedge repeatedly through patches of foxtail, nettles, and rock-hard dirt-clods.
Where’s the challenge in hitting a ball straight down the fairway, wide as a football field? Might as well just go play football. No, give me the the kind of shot where you have to hit a half buried ball between two trees so close you couldn’t drive a skateboard between them, with thick branches thick arcing overhead like a low-beamed ceiling—there’s real sportsmanship for you! I, for one, think golf ought to provide players a good workout with a lot of blood, sweat, and tears—so I prefer to play in the rough—at least, that’s the story I’m sticking to.
The Sower in Jesus’ parable doesn’t hit straight up the fairway, either. Maybe he swings too hard, or fails to keep his head down on follow-through, or yanks his backswing—whatever, he tends to hit a lot of extreme hooks and slices. Onto the cart path, into the rocks, and out into the deep rough where the big nettles grow as high as your armpits—all reveal a Sower who is truly a big hitter.
Jesus says some of the Sower’s seed lands among the thorns, where, among the nettles, the new plants just don’t stand a chance. He says the thorns represent the choking factors for true faith: cares, riches, and pleasures. We’re going to look briefly at all three as we prepare our hearts to receive God’s good gift of the Lord’s Supper this morning.
Looking for Trouble
Cares—fears, troubles, debts, pains, afflictions, sickness, oppression, politics, economics, the environment—the cares of the world seem endless—certainly enough to occupy us so completely that we miss out on what this life is truly about. Money’s short this month, the doctor wants me to come back in tomorrow, my hip is acting up again, my boss is such a jerk, we’ll never get an even break, it’s Trump’s fault I tell ya, it’s the fat cats taking from the working class, it’s irreversible climate change—we’re in for it now!
We live in a world with multiple sources of endless information. We have bad news pumped in 24/7 from every angle. Taken together it seems nothing less than a calculated strategy to turn us all into constant hand-wringers and Chicken Littles. “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”
Hypochondria—both individual and worldwide (What? Did you think that climate change awareness was something else?)—has become the chief export of pharmaceutical ads. Not worried? What’s wrong with you? You ought to be more paranoid.
To be choked by the cares of this world is to be blinded and consumed by issues. That is what our cares are: our issues. Do you have issues—cares, causes, and cherished hobby horses? The problem with of these things is that they can choke us—they so fill our eyes, throats, and hearts that we have no remaining way of taking in God’s good news and the feeding nourishment of the gospel. The biblical paradigm is found in Matthew 14, in the episode where Peter steps out of the boat and begins to walk on the water just as Jesus does.
But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, "Lord, save me.”
—Matthew 14:30
Peter was doing well, but once he made the wind his central focus, he began to sink. So do we. The cares of this world—our issues—are not the central issues of the world (even though we feel like they are). The antidote to our cares and issues comes from the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus says:
Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life. — Matthew 6:25a
That is a command: Don’t be anxious. To those with cares and issues Jesus reminds us that our anxieties are good for nothing. Verse 27:
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? —Matthew 6:27
There is clearly a difference between caring for others and being consumed by cares. We want the former, not the latter.
We abandon care in one way only: trusting in the care of the Father. He loves us and values us more than we can imagine. If we seek to live our lives trusting in his love, we will outgrow the weeds, and once the weeds die off, we’ll only have begun to flourish.
“If I Were A Rich Man”
Riches. In “Fiddler on a Roof,” Tevya, the main character, sings, “If I were a rich man,” a song celebrating how money rescues us from all our cares and empowers us beyond reason. “Wouldn’t have to work hard, wife would be happy, and everyone would come to him for advice. It’s the dream of riches—the fantasy of winning the Powerball and what it might bring—escape from the cares which plague us.
Riches promise power—specifically, the power to overcome every challenge. Liberty to make all the choices you want, the feeling of security and ultimately the power to delay the inevitable tide of aging and going quietly into the sunset.
Riches choke. They fill our eyes and then our space with all the stuff we believe we absolutely have to have: 24/7 telephones with Netflix and HBO, Better Homes & Gardens, better automobiles with better onboard computers and sound systems, freedom from indebtedness to anyone and anything for any reason.
I’m no different. When I hear on the news that the lottery is at 300 million, I start fantasizing about what could be done. Fix up the church! Hart Hall, Preschool renovation, elevator for the second floor—sigh.
It’s universal: at some level, we all dream of riches. And yet, dreaming to much can become like boa constrictor that wraps around our necks and permanently force our gaze away from Christ toward the things of this world.
Of riches, Jesus speaks clearly in Mark 8:
And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, 'Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.” — Luke 12: 19-21
The lie of this world is the idea that our souls will actually be preserved and bolstered by riches, when the truth is that wealth often acts as the soul’s chief irritant and source of corruption.
Again, Jesus gives us the antidote; he tells us to consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air:
Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? —Matthew 6:26
Of more value—the problem with riches is that they totally mess with our value system. Jesus reorients us toward what is truly valuable. Silver and gold do not last, but the love of God our Father in Heaven is eternal.
If It Feels Good…
Pleasures—how can anyone be against pleasure? Pleasure is our body and mind’s way of saying, yes—this is good! Social commentators have suggested that America and the West are much less Christian at heart than we are Epicurean. Epicureans were materialists. They were wildly hedonistic in seeking pleasure, but they believed that the pleasant life was the best life. Live simply, all things in moderation, mind your own business, and don’t bother with superstitious thinking. Sounds like a lot of the modern world. It’s no stretch to say that many Americans and Christians are zealots for the pleasant life.
This is an easy sell: follow God and your life will be pleasant. Does Jesus say this? Ever? No. Jesus is again and again calling our focus to a world that is not of this world—a world where the Father reigns in perfect justice and righteousness.
Furthermore, we are to be warned:
For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? — Mark 8:36
For another of the world’s great lies is that we have no souls—all we are is all we see, hear, touch, taste, and feel. Living for our bodies sake alone leaves us soul-sick and cheated.
Pleasures choke us—they fill us with good feeling so that our eyes never bother to look up, outward, and beyond to the horizon where our true home and true calling can be found.
There is already too much zealotry for the things of this world—too many people who advocate for the virtues of the sensuous life here and now—and too few pointing beyond this world as Christ did, as his apostles do, and as disciples of every era have done.
Paul articulately drove the wooden spike through the heart of the philosophy, which—zombie-like or vampire-like—refuses to die when he wrote to the very comfortable and pleasure-loving Corinthians:
If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied. — 1 Corinthians 15:19
The purpose of this life is not that we invest our souls here. Our greatest good and highest value is held in trust for us by Christ in Heaven. When we call Jesus “Lord,” we are proclaiming that Jesus alone is of ultimate, final, absolute value. Nothing else can compare or even come close. To have faith is to know that Jesus is the pearl of great price for which we would sell all we have in order to attain.
Outgrowing Thorns
What should we do about the thorns? Cell them by name? Round them up? Pluck them all out and burn them in a pile? No. Tempting, but that’s God’s work, not ours.
Jesus tells us to let the wheat and the weeds grow up together; in time, God will do the separating. As much as we may be threatened by the thorns of this life, it is not our role to rip them out or otherwise remove them. God will judge.
“But I want justice now!”
Christ-follower, what do you need?
Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. — Matthew 6:33
You have all you need from the Father. For our cares, we have the cross, and Jesus who identifies with us and accompanies us in suffering. As for riches, ours—secured by Christ—are eternal and eternally guaranteed. As for pleasures, these are not diminished by faith but enhanced by our relationship with God, because we receive them all with knowing gratitude. The pleasures we know here and now are made all the sweeter in a cosmos filled with meaning because our loving Lord presides over all.
Who enjoys their meal more: the man on Death Row knowing it’s his final meal or the freed prisoner knowing it’s his first of many meals to come? We have been freed. An eternal feast awaits us and begins here and now. †