Are We Useless Slaves?

The apostles said to ^(B)the Lord, "Increase our faith!"

⁶And ^(C)the Lord said, "If you had faith like ^(D)a mustard seed, you would say to this ^(E)mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and be planted in the sea'; and it would obey you.

⁷"Which of you, having a slave plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come immediately and sit down to eat'?

⁸"But will he not say to him, '^(F)Prepare something for me to eat, and properly clothe yourself and serve me while I eat and drink; and afterward you may eat and drink'?

⁹"He does not thank the slave because he did the things which were commanded, does he?

¹⁰"So you too, when you do all the things which are commanded you, say, 'We are unworthy slaves; we have done only that which we ought to have done.'"

The word “slave” occurs 30 times in Luke, 35 times in Matthew, 5 times in Mark, 12 times in John.

But the term “useless slave”—or here translated “unworthy slave” and “worthless slave” is only used twice:

In Matthew the term is used in the parable of the talents. There’s a slave who gets one talent, according to his ability, from his lord and master. The slave protects that talent—he was given the talent to watch while his master was gone.

This is important—Jesus does not have the master give any instruction other than that he “gives over to them his possessions. . . to each according to his own ability.” The slave who got one talent—one talent, by the way, is a lot of money. 14,400 Drachmae—the unit of a laborer’s or soldier’s day’s pay. Somewhere on the order, in purchasing power, of a million dollars.

So the slave got a million dollars to protect while his master was away. Now, I don’t know about you, but protecting a million dollars sounds like a pretty difficult job.

The slave does it. When the master comes back, the slave gives him his talent.

But the master’s not happy. He takes the talent from the useless slave and has him “cast out into outer darkness where there shall be lamentation and gnashing of teeth.”

So it’s of particular importance to us, when Jesus is talking to his disciples and says:

“When you do all the things which are commanded you, say, 'We are unworthy slaves; we have done only that which we ought to have done.”

That’s right. Jesus tells his disciples—and by extension us—that when we do “only that which we ought to have done” we are useless slaves. And as he tells us in Matthew, the fate of a useless slave is to be cast into the darkness.

So where does this leave us?

Perhaps I can take a bit of a diversion here.

Yesterday a friend of mine from high school and college, someone I lived and worked with at a church while in college, posted on his Facebook page a link to a preacher who spoke from the pulpit on tolerance.

Specifically, she was preaching tolerance of Islam.

Problematically, she said that Jesus also preached tolerance.

This is a problem because it’s simply incorrect. When I pointed this out to my friend, I was told (by his mother, as these things happen on Facebook) that the parable of the Good Samaritan was about tolerance.

I realized then, that there was a disconnect between my friend and I regarding the definition of tolerance.

As far as I can tell, there are two possible interpretations of tolerance here: either to respect the beliefs of others or to permit them to continue existing in their beliefs.

As Jesus came to change us, I don’t see tolerance fitting into either of those definitions.

Moreover, this elevation of “tolerance” to something holy misses out—dare I say purposefully ignores?—the purpose of Jesus’ message.

Let’s look at the parable of the Good Samaritan to find out what that purpose is.

We all know the story, I know I’ve spoken of it before—the injured Hebrew—the hated enemy of the Samaritans—is picked up and taken care of by just the filthy, unclean Samaritan that’s supposed to help him.

The point of the story is the answer to the question “who is my neighbor?”

The question itself is an attempt to squirrel out of the greatest commandment:

YOU SHALL LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART, AND WITH ALL YOUR SOUL, AND WITH ALL YOUR STRENGTH, AND WITH ALL YOUR MIND; AND YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.

Now does Jesus say “you shall tolerate your neighbor as yourself?”

No—not only would that be nonsensical, it wouldn’t be anything radical or changing.

The Romans were champions of tolerance. All you had to do was tolerate their rule and they would tolerate your traditions. Easy, really. And tolerance is certainly an effective way to rule on earth.

But Jesus wasn’t interested in the tolerance of the Romans. Jesus wasn’t interested in rule on earth—but rule within ourselves that leads us to the Kingdom of Heaven. Towards this, the latter half of the great commandment is to LOVE your neighbor as yourself.

Tolerance isn’t love. Tolerance is the position a ruler takes. Jesus commands us to love, not tolerate. To serve, not to rule. To debase His message from a position of love and service into indifference and rule is inexcusable.

Unfortunately, all of the posters on my friend’s Facebook page sided with his mom. Sided, in effect with that preacher—that the key to salvation is tolerance, not love.

I wondered then, as I do now, how many Christians have been lead astray by this false doctrine—I’m not speaking Islam but of the enshrinement of tolerance.

This is not to say I’m perfect—I freely admit I’m a sinner—but I pray for and try to have my eyes as open and as plank-free as possible.

But when I see those who profess to be Christian, who obviously want to obey the will of God, acting and speaking so out-of-accord with the instructions and example of Jesus, well, I remember the useless slave.

That useless slave—the one who merely took care of the talent—was cast into the darkness.

Jesus tells us both through a parable and directly that if we merely do what we are expected to do, we are useless slaves.

What of those who aren’t even doing what they’re expected to do? Those who are teaching false doctrine? Those who are perverting a command to serve and love into a command to indifference and rule?

We are told it would be better if a millstone were to be thrown around the necks of those who snare little ones and they were cast into the sea. We are told it will be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah than for cities that reject Gods message. What of people who pervert God’s message?

And where does this leave us? Can I even say us?

Are we faithfully following the commands of Jesus? Are we tolerating or are we loving? If we are doing our best, if we are following Christ’s command to love—we are still useless slaves because we are only doing what is expected of us.

Of course our situation is not hopeless because we have Christ. We will not be thrown into the outer darkness. But what can we do in our lives that is more than is expected of us? How can we turn five talents into ten? What can we do beyond love?

We must act through our love, through the love we have because of our faith in Christ. We know, especially in the Church of the Brethren that faith without works is dead. So love without action is dead. We must love our brothers and sisters enough to, as is said by Jesus just before today’s passage:

If your brother should be sinning, rebuke him, and if he should ever indeed repent, forgive him.
And if he should ever be sinning against you seven times a day, and if he should ever be turning about seven times a day to you, saying 'I repent,' you shall forgive him.

We must be unafraid to engage our brothers and sisters who have strayed from the path. We must engage them faithfully and prayerfully and with love. We must also be accepting of criticism of our own flaws, faults, and blind spots—we must be able to recognize loving rebuke as well as give it.

Going off in a huff is not love.

Tolerating another’s opinions is not love.

Frank, open, and honest discussion is love.

Jesus did not turn away from the Pharisees—he engaged them directly.

Our commandment is to love one another.

We cannot merely love one another. We are clearly called to do more.

We cannot hold our love inside—we cannot hide it under a bushel.

We must act in love.

We must be bold and open in our actions.

And we must be humble and open in our receiving these actions.

Please, brothers and sisters, if I say anything or have said anything that you think is extra-biblical or non-biblical—I implore you to act in love, to rebuke me, to forgive me, and to accept my repentance.

And I implore you to take the same from me.

If we commit to this—If we can do this as a body, we will double what we have an more.

If we cannot

Or do not, we are just useless slaves.

Sermon From March 7th, 2010

The sermon for 3/7/2010 is available here.

Click to play / download.

Amen - and see you all this Sunday at 10:00.

--

Jeff

The Only Disaster

The Only Disaster

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish."

Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, 'For three years now I've been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven't found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?'

" 'Sir,' the man replied, 'leave it alone for one more year, and I'll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.' "

When disaster strikes the whole world perks up. Relief agencies go into action, the 24-hour news cycle starts its feeding frenzy and opportunistic preachers and atheists starting talking about blaming the victims and blaming God.

Our relief agencies go into action because we tend to forget the poor and downtrodden until they are shoved in our face. Unfortunately, the compassion we should show is often hidden until “everyone else is doing it” or until the plight of others is so severe our cold hearts are finally warmed.

Our 24-hour news cycle starts its feeding frenzy because its only job is to make money and it makes money by getting eyes on that TV screen. The more sensational enormity a disaster has, the better, as far as FOX, CNN, and their advertisers are concerned.

Our atheists want to blame God because they say “well, if God’s all-powerful and stuff then God shouldn’t have earthquakes or let terrorists blow up buildings, yeah.” My retort to that is that it’s our job to make sure terrorists don’t blow up buildings and if we’re going to live where earthquakes happen, we should build earthquake-proof homes. It’s the height of arrogant misunderstanding to expect God to change the nature he created—human nature included.

Our preachers who want to blame the victims do so because they think they need a “bad guy” to justify the message of salvation—to scare us into being saved. We don’t need “a bad guy”—we are the “bad guy” and it’s only by the grace of God that we’re still walking this Earth.

We talked in Bible study this week about the middle of the book of Acts, where Paul and Silas are thrown into prison. There are some pretty good disasters in Chapter 16. First, Paul silences a girl with a “python spirit.” There’s a lot to get into about exactly what a python spirit is and is not but it helps to know that Python was a Greek god of prophecy and the slave girl was known for making money for her captors by prophesying. Anyway, she follows Paul and Silas around calling out—“hey, these guys are preaching the word of Jesus and they’re telling you all how to be saved!” This gets really tiring to Paul after a few days (maybe he thought it was good advertising at first—Luke never tells us) and so he tells the spirit to leave the girl. This angers both the girl’s owners and the crowd and so Paul and Silas end up thrown in jail.

Now, we don’t have any record of the girl or her owners saying “woe is me for I have been punished unto the utmost by God!” though we probably wouldn’t expect that, either. We might, however, expect Paul and Silas to do a bit of complaining. After all, they were only doing the work of the Lord.

Instead, when thrown in jail and shackled to the wall they start singing songs of praise to God. Paul and Silas understand what the atheists and televangelists do not—that everything indeed comes from God—and everything serves God’s purpose. When you put yourself out of sorts with that purpose everything looks like disaster. When you give yourself up to the purpose of God, everything comes up in roses.

Back to Paul and Silas: they’re singing “Lord, I Lift Your Name On High” for the 17^th time that night when all of a sudden there’s a great earthquake! Now, Macedonia is a place where there are a fair amount of earthquakes. You think the Romans would have built a better prison. I guess they used contractors for that one. Anyway, the earthquake came and the jail was verily rent in twain and lo! Paul and Silas’s shackles were cast into the pit of Gehenna by God the Most High, blessed be his name.

What do Paul and Silas do? Well, I can tell you what I’d certainly be strongly inclined to do—unless I had read this story. Paul and Silas, they just go right on keeping on. They don’t run, they don’t try to escape, in fact, they probably even convinced the other convicts to stay a while too, because when the Warden runs in about to commit seppuku—that’s hara-kiri—which is ritual suicide cause you done did wrong: when the Warden is about to fall on his sword Paul says: “hold on there, man! We’re all still here!”

So what did these three disasters get us besides a slave girl out of work and some broken concrete? Easy, it led the Warden and his family to Jesus—he asks “what must I do to be saved?” after seeing not a miracle but simply correct behavior. So God has Paul and Silas beaten up and thrown in jail not because God is cruel or a jerk but because God wants to save the jailor. Cool stuff, right?

So let’s go back to today’s passage:

Jesus is hanging out with the crowds, doing the work of the Lord, and some people start agitating and spreading rumors about these Jews from Galilee who were killed by Pilate in the middle of making sacrifices to God. It seems the crowd was of the opinion that the group killed by Pilate had to have been evil and vile sinners because they died in such a terrible fashion.

Jesus, ever on point for a teaching moment, says look—these guys were no worse sinners than any of you—and you’re going to die forever unless you repent! Then Jesus picks a worse and just as famous-at-the-time disaster: look at those 18 people crushed by the collapse of the tower of Siloam! Do you think they died because they were horrible and terrible sinners! You’re no better than they are! You had better repent or you’re going to die the same! That is, die without the hope of life everlasting.

Jesus told the crowd these things because most folks at the time were believed the right thing for the wrong reason: they thought everything happened for a reason, which is correct—but that reason had to do with the some behaviors the people the things—bad or good—were happening to had done, which is incorrect.

Jesus knows—as the crowd should have—that everything, good and bad, comes from God. If they hadn’t read their Job, they certainly should have read their Deuteronomy (32:39):

There is no god besides me.
I put to death and I bring to life,
I have wounded and I will heal,
and no one can deliver out of my hand.

Jesus knows the nature of the Father and Jesus knows the nature of the behavior of the world—God neither wounds nor heals in response to the desires or behaviors of his creation, God wounds and heals in order to perfect his creation. The schedule is not set by us—the march of time is inexorable and we are all going to die.

So what do we do?

What we do is exercise our free will and repent. Note the word here: repent. The Greek is “metanoeo” which means not exactly repent. Repent is a word that comes to us through French from Latin and it means to feel sorry for something. Metanoeo—the word the Gospel writers use—means to change your mind and your purpose.

This is not mere belief—Jesus never calls us to merely believe. Jesus calls us to change our mind—to change our purpose—that is to change ourselves. Our turning, our repentance, our change should be as evident on our face, in our words, and in our actions as it is in our hearts. If you have faith but do not change—do you have anything?

Jesus clears this up for us with the parable that follows. He’s shocked the crowd a bit by reminding them that folks don’t die because they are somehow more terrible sinners. Now he instructs them in how they should behave.

The owner of a vineyard sees a fig tree that should have been bearing fruit for three years is barren. He tells the gardener to cut it down. The gardener says no—let me work on it some more, single it out, and see if it bears fruit then. After a year, if it’s still barren, you can cut it down.

Now cutting it down is a final judgment on that fig tree but the disaster will be that fig tree bearing no fruit. We are often viewed as the fig tree in this parable and I’d like to continue that interpretation with an understanding of what the gardener is about to do to us:

“I’ll dig around it and fertilize it” Now, what’s fertilizer made of? That’s right. In a more literal translation we have—“I’ll be digging and casting manure around it. Yes, brothers and sisters, we the fig trees have a decision if we don’t want to be cut down for firewood: we can either produce fruit ourselves or we can have the gardener dig all around us, violently disturbing our surroundings—maybe giving us new, unfamiliar, strange, uncomfortable dirt—and just when we’ve gotten used to that, the gardener will pile mountains of fresh, warm manure all over us. I believe that’s called some kind of storm that we’re in for.

It would be easier to produce that produce on our own: but sometimes we need help. Sometimes we need the disaster of disturbed earth and piled poop to allow us to change. We get caught up in our barren beliefs and behaviors and refuse to change until we are so piled with refuse that we have no other option.

Why wait until we’re piled high with dung? Why wait until the ultimate disaster of endless death and faithless life? Repent! Jesus says—change your mind and your purpose and bear fruit for the Lord—living any other way is just wasting space in the garden: you may as well already be dead.

So if you find your life disturbed, if you feel smothered by something unpleasant, take comfort—God is giving you one more chance to bear fruit. But take heed, your first pruning can be your last—but the reason is up to you: do you need to be cut down or will your fruit fulfill the harvest?

Let us pray:

Heavenly Father: let us bear your fruit.

Show us how to be fruitful for you

so that we may be useful

and if we must be disturbed in order to grow

help us remember the parable of the fig tree

and understand that every lesson comes from you

to help us turn to your ways.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Fishing, not Hunting

Fishing, Not Hunting

One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, he saw at the water's edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."

Simon answered, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets."

When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners.

Then Jesus said to Simon, "Don't be afraid; from now on you will catch men." So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

There was once a young boy named Tommy. One Sunday, Tommy came to Sunday School very late.

His teacher, Mrs. Little, knew Tommy was usually very prompt and asked him if anything was wrong.

Tommy replied no, Mrs. Little, nothing was wrong, just that he had planned to skip Sunday School that morning to go fishing with his dad.

Mrs. Little asked him what moved him to make the right decision to come to Sunday School.

Tommy replied that it wasn’t his decision—his dad told him that he couldn’t go fishing today and needed to instead go to church.

Mrs. Little was very impressed with Tommy’s dad, a man not known for his regular church attendance, and asked Tommy if his dad had explained to him why it was more important to go to church than to go fishing?

Tommy replied, "Yes he did. Dad said he didn't have enough bait for both of us."

Fishing is a lot like hunting. You have a lot of expensive, fancy, specialized equipment that’s not really good for anything else—you can do it with almost no training, though it’s something you can get better at. It involves a lot of waiting for the right moment. And it’s something people love to lie about.

One way that fishing is different is that when you are hunting, you’re looking for just one thing. When you’re fishing, you take what you get.

It’s not like there weren’t hunters in first century Galilee. Jesus chose fishermen to make an important point—when we bring in members of the church, we take what we get.

I know that people often wish this were that: why doesn’t he talk faster, why doesn’t he talk less, why is she so cranky, I don’t like the way the podiums look, I don’t like the way the windows look, why doesn’t he get a job, why don’t they quit fighting, why doesn’t he come to church on Wednesday, why does she skip Sunday School—bickering can go on forever because, as Jesus pointed out to us, we’re very good at seeing the specks of all the eyes around us but ignoring that big stick shoved in our own eyeballs.

And it’s not like Jesus didn’t say we can’t be discerning—he spoke often about separating the wheat from the chaff and the good vines from the bad—indeed, just before he tells Simon Peter to go out into the deep water, Jesus has Simon take his boat a little off shore so that Jesus can be separated from the crowd—that separation, what we still have today as the set-apart ministry is important. Just like Jesus couldn’t preach in his home town, it’s impossible to preach if you’re just a part of the crowd.

But the discernment comes after the catch. As a good fisherman, you cast your net as wide as you possibly can. Those big shrimp and tuna trawlers don’t cast huge nets into the ocean and drag them up with dolphins and mermaids because they’re evil, they cast those huge nets because they want to catch as many fish as possible.

Likewise, we shouldn’t feel that megachurches have some “agenda” other than preaching to a huge slice of the population—remember, Jesus preached to thousands upon thousands at a time.

What we really should get out of today’s passage is a simple question: why are we not fishing in deeper waters?

Why have we not cast our nets into the sea?

Are we tired from a night of toil? Let me promise you, with a 3-day-old at home, I am deeply aware of exhaustion. But our personal discomfort is not what is at stake—Simon and his partners had been out fishing all night, but at the command of Jesus, Simon went out to fish again.

We cannot let weariness be the crutch that cripples this church. No matter how tired we are, how many aches and pains we have, how many times we have to come to the church to fix something, how busy we are—we have to remember that our call is to be fishers of men, that we are sent out into the deep waters to cast the net of the Good News to all, without regard to our solitary complaints.

If we continue to follow the example of Simon Peter—that is, the living example of the church—we can see another stumbling block, one that nearly leaves all the fish in the sea: unbelief, ill-preparedness, and pride.

When Jesus tells Simon to take the boat out into the deep waters to fish some more, Simon should have known Jesus had a fine reason for the suggestion. Simon should have said to his partners “come on over, we’ve got work to do” but he didn’t have enough faith in Jesus to “rope other folks in” so to speak. He did have enough faith to work, just not to call others in. Jesus fixed that.

When Simon and Jesus go out and cast nets, they get so many fish that Simon’s nets start to break. Now, Simon was an experienced fisherman, right? You know when you’ve got a big fish on your line. Simon knew, before he ever started to pull up those nets, that he needed help and he was ill-prepared to deal with such a catch, even though he should have known that’s what was in store. But pride got in the way. HE wanted to be the one on the boat with Jesus, he wanted to bring in all those fish—he wanted the recognition.

But then the nets started to break. Simon realized that he was going to lose everything if he didn’t call for help. And help came.

That’s something that most of us just don’t realize. I’ve been lucky in these last few days to be reminded of that fact—we’ve gotten lots of help with food and cleaning, things that we just couldn’t do on our own and properly take care of a brand-new person. And all we had to do was ask for help.

So Simon asks for help, and the sons of Zebedee, his partners, sail out in their boats and they pull in so many fish that the boats nearly sink.

Now let’s think about this for a second.

By himself and Jesus, Simon can’t hack it.

But with three together (and Jesus) Simon and his partners bring in so many fish they can barely contain them all.

I suppose you can see the parallel here to Matthew 18—where two or three of us agree on something and ask God the Father for it in the name of Jesus it will be done and done abundantly.

Simon, of course, still doesn’t understand. He’s been given a gift by Jesus—what he wanted all night, what he spent his life working towards—getting piles of fish—Jesus gave it to him.

Weary, unfaithful, ill-prepared, and prideful, and Jesus still gave it to him. Still gave Simon Peter what he wanted.

And how does Simon react? With joy? With gratitude?

No.

With fear.

“Get away from me Lord!” Simon says, “I’m a bad man!” Well, duh. Jesus knows that. It’s not like Jesus has a supply of good men laying about to choose from. Pretty much the only option He’s got available is picking up a cranky lump of evil and showing it what to do.

So Jesus says “Don’t be afraid, from now on you’ll be fishing for men.” And Simon and his partners put down their earthly pursuits and follow the Lord.

So what lessons can we, the Church, learn from this?

First, that weariness is no excuse. Jesus isn’t going to come calling only on days when we’re well-rested. We may have spent all day or all week or all year working, beating our heads against a wall and just spinning our wheels—ready to give up—and Jesus might come and ask for more. We should remember then the full nets of Simon and James and John.

Second, that we must have faith. If Jesus is calling us to do work we must have faith that He will secure the fruits of that work for us. We must have faith in the promise of Matthew 18—that what we ask for in faith together will be done on this earth.

Third, that we must be prepared. We can’t go off on a call half-cocked and unready. If a job takes two people, we can’t do it alone. If it takes fifty people, we, the Jacksonville Church of the Brethren, can’t do it at all right now. We have to know our limits and be willing to take the time to prepare to overcome our shortcomings.

Fourth, that we must be humble. We have to ask for help. We can’t do anything alone. The greatest lie of the modern world is that people can be independent. When someone speaks of his or her own independence, your first question should be to ask where they learned to sew so well. If we can’t even cover ourselves with clothing how can we cover the work Jesus calls us to do? We must not let pride break our nets. Alone, our nets break and our work sinks to the bottom of the sea. Together our boats are filled to overflowing.

Fifth, that we must not be afraid. If Jesus fills our boats so that we nearly sink, we must have faith that he will bring us home. If we are evil and vile—and we are—we must not say “you can’t choose me, Lord” because our sin has given Him no other choice. So many people are afraid of success—something starts to work—it starts to change—and they back away. We cannot let this happen to our church. When the Lord is working, things move, ships get crowded to capacity and whole ways of living are left behind. We must embrace this, not run from it.

So remember, as we look forward to working for Jesus in this new year we should pray:

Lord, help us to

Be willing, not weary.

Be faithful, not a flunky.

Be prepared, not preoccupied.

Be integrated, not independent.

Be fearless, not fickle.

so that we may do the work for which you have called us.

Amen.

Sermon From January 10th, 2010

The sermon for 1/10/2010 is available here.

Click to play / download.

Amen - and see you all this Sunday at 10:00.

--

Jeff

Belief in the Word

Why Believe?

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying, "This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.' "From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father's side, has made him known.

The final bible verse of Tim Tebow’s college career was Ephesians 2:8-10, in short: we are saved by faith that we may do God’s work. Many churches, many Christians forget or ignore one half of this truth. As Brethren, we have not and we must not. A great part of God’s work is knowing and understanding His word. I pray that we will all commit to reading the Bible anew in 2010. Today we’ve all started with the first chapter of John.

This first third of the first chapter of John explains belief in five parts. Each of these five parts has a triune aspect. These three aspects are three facets of Christianity: the literal, the personal, and the symbolic.

On the literal we have verse twelve, in which the reward for belief in the Word is given: that we may become children of God. This verse serves as a foil to the 20^th chapter of John, where Thomas is made to believe.

“Made to believe” is the most correct term here – Jesus upbraids Thomas a bit – that Thomas could not believe but by sight and those who came after, “who have not seen and yet have believed” would be blessed.

Blessed by being Children of God, of course, as we are told at the beginning of John. So this chapter bookends John and its reassurance that belief in the Word will be rewarded mirrors the blessings Jesus promises at the end of the Gospel.

The next part of the literal aspect concerns translation. It might be interesting to replace “at the Father’s side” with the more specific “in the Father’s bosom” and “made him known” with “reveals” or, my favorite, “unfolds.” But what is a bit of a sticker is that repetition of God: “no one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only” seems like a bit of a tautology – you know, “boys will be boys” or something else that is both obvious and meaningless. Until we dig a bit deeper into the translation. The term used for “the one and only” is elsewhere translated as “only begotten” – that makes a bit more sense: No one has ever seen God, but the only begotten God reveals Him. That is, no one has seen the Father but Jesus reveals Him.

Most times when we hit a difficult passage of the Bible the problem is in our knowledge, either our collective knowledge in the translation we use or our personal limited understanding. As always, is it our duty – the work for which we have been saved – to look deeper and cure our deficiencies.

But why? I spoke several times with my brother Matthew while he was here about why he should believe. Matthew made the argument – but why can’t I just live a good life? That is one of the most common arguments you hear against faith – why can’t I just be good and not worry about the rest?

There are two good answers. One is a bit of a pat response: we simply can’t live a good life without God. Jim has spoken to us about order in our lives and in our faith – without that order, without the guideline of the life of Jesus, we are gone astray. The second is perhaps the better answer for some – that we exist in order to learn things. Were this not true, were we merely here to replicate ourselves we would have no call to live past forty or fifty – by that time we could ensure the health of our children and grandchildren. But we don’t – we live to seventy or eighty or ninety, long past the time when we are able to be primary or even secondary caregivers – why? What is the purpose of this extended life other than to learn and to discover? And once we have mastered all the science of the world we are left with mystery. Perhaps mystery, then, is where we should begin.

Which takes us to the third of five parts: Jesus the Christ as the Word of God. Obviously this is a central part but it is so simple and fundamental that it might require only the briefest of mentions this go round – Jesus is the Word, not the Bible. That does not detract in the least “one jot or tittle” from the Bible but it does remind us where our focus should lie – we don’t worship pages, we don’t worship sages, we worship the ageless Word of God who was made flesh and dwelt with us and died for us.

And, to bring us to the fourth fifth, by whose power creation was made. As both a teacher and a writer, I am witness daily to the power of words. There are even philosophers who have decided that our only existence is through words. These thinkers are close to grasping the camel but they’ve got the wrong end. It’s manifest to us that words are powerful because The Word is power. Just like God uses rainbows to remind us that rains end and flood waters recede, each time we are struck by the power of language we are reminded that through the Word God created everything. Genesis 1:3 can’t really be any clearer – all is formless until God speaks, until the Word of God is loosed upon creation. Using this language – these words, John tells us exactly what creation is and was and who was responsible.

The last part of belief explained in the beginning of John brings us back to mystery. John deliberately uses repetition and ambiguity both to connect Jesus to the Father and to tell us that there is more in that connection to understand than we may ever have understanding. “No one has ever seen God but God has made him known.” Even at its most literal English translation – no one has seen God but the only begotten God unfolds Him -- it traps us, it snares us on the words to make us, like Thomas is made, to poke and prod at the Word until we understand, until we believe, until we know.

So in this first third of John chapter 1, John has taken us through five literal levels of belief:

doubt

struggle

faith

yearning

learning

These five levels also extend to the personal level.

The discourse on faith and the rewards for belief – when set up against the negative example of Thomas at the end of the Gospel succinctly describe the nature of belief – especially the dichotomy of faith versus not works but visceral knowledge. Thomas was not blessed as we are because he had to, not only see, but touch to believe. We, on the other hand, have only our ears and our minds and our hearts with which to build belief. We and Thomas both are given access to the Word – but it is in our acceptance of the Word, our belief, that we are blessed to become the children of God. The nature of belief is an acceptance in that which cannot be proven but does not need to be. I love my wife, I love my children – they don’t need proof of it other than my life, at least I hope not – God’s love for us is made manifest in both creation and in the grace that waits for our belief. The reward not for “living a good life” but for believing so that we can live that good life – so that we can do those great Ephesian works for God.

The problems inherent, inbuilt even, in translating from Greek – which is itself a translation of revelation are, on a personal level, those problems of the outside world – of the seed sewn on weedy ground. No, this translation is wrong – no, that translation is wrong – no, use this version of the Greek – know this, brothers and sisters – the Word is not subject to translation. The Word speaks the language of your heart and mind and flesh; when you trip on words in the Bible remember that they are words of men – the Word will never trip you – Jesus is no trap; pray for clarity and pray for revelation and do the work for which you were created and you will build understanding; do not fall to the arguments of men that quibble over the placement of a comma – God has everything ordered and the Word is not chaos. When the world is calling you, remember that the Word is your calling.

Which leads us to simple faith, which on a personal level is that spark of interest that finally reaches your heart – whether it is music or friendship or good coffee, the part of the life of Christ that you are unable or unwilling to resist. It is as plain and powerful as “the Word was God.” For me, and probably the reason I love this passage so much, is the acknowledgement that my chosen vocation – for first of everything I am a writer – taps into the same energy – the same force – by which I came into being. I think the fact of Jesus as the Word is irresistible to any writer – and similarly I believe that there is some part of the life of Jesus and the life of the church that will speak to everyone; as we reach into the second decade of the twenty-first century think back on your calling – what drew you to the church? What can you do to be drawn anew? What can you do to draw others?

After simple faith we experience the power of God – we develop in our belief and faith – perhaps so that we can move mountains – but certainly so that we may, as Paul clearly states in Ephesians, do the work of the Lord. When we are fresh in our faith we are like children, but as we grow, so grows our responsibility. We are no longer simply called by the Word to faith but called by the Word to works – we are now God’s children and it is our duty to continue the work of creation.

Finally, after faith and work we are left with contemplation – the power and truth of the beginning of the Gospel of John has washed over us and we are still left with the mysteries encountered by the patriarchs of the church – and, as they did, we – as mature believers – contemplate the mysteries. This fifth step in personal belief is not reached by all at the same time – indeed, to stretch the edge of belief and to contemplate the nature of God by trying to understand the fine distinction between the Only God and the Only Begotten God can be terrifying – certainly simple faith is more comforting and the work we have been called to fills us so that we do not have to dwell on such difficulties; but we do. In this way we go beyond the nature of belief – the doubt of Thomas – we don’t ask “do I believe” but “why do I believe” – and this is a question that can not be asked too soon. That’s a phrase that’s often misunderstood – the question “why do I believe” cannot be asked too soon because it must not be asked too soon – the immature believer will never be able to answer that question to his or her own satisfaction; one thing that Jewish mystics get right is a gradation of study systems – you ask a certain set of questions and have access to a certain set of knowledge before you get to go on to the next part. Because of the nature of post-Catholic Christianity, we’re often left adrift on a sea of belief because no one realizes you can drown in belief – brothers and sisters don’t let a young Christian drown; be there for them to guide them in the Word.

So as our guide to belief, John has given us the five phases:

doubt

struggle

faith

yearning

learning

that become, on a personal level,

what belief means

the interference of the outside world

the irresistible call of the Word

the development of our calling in God

and a maturity of belief

These five aspects of personal and literal belief also mirror five parts of the life of Jesus – as foreshadowed by these first eighteen verses of the Gospel of John.

First we have a definition of what Jesus is – Jesus is the Word and the light of the World. John says in four verses what it takes Luke, what, four chapters to get through? But it is important to the story of how belief is made – for that’s what the New Testament and especially the Gospels are, are they not? – that we have a clear definition of what Jesus, the Word, the fundament of our belief, is.

Then we have the purpose of Jesus’ life – the struggle on a literal level against the persons of the outside world – the light in the darkness that is not received by his own; John spells out clearly what Jesus is and what He will do. As Jesus was not caught up by the outside world – even beating death, so we are reminded that our struggles have already been fought and won.

John then gives us the story of the Baptist – the announcing of the coming of Jesus; what is this but the irresistible call given to the entire world? As John the Baptist preached to those on the banks of the river Jordan so must we make the whole world our river Jordan. We must have the faith in our calling to repeat it to the world as children not of desire or of families – but children of God.

Creation was the first ministry of Jesus. Creation is the only ministry of Jesus. Creation is the ministry of Jesus. That is, as we see in John, it is the work of God to continue and care for his creation and we, as his children, are the stewards of his work. As Jesus, the Word, created all and died for all so must we give our lives to the work of God.

Finally we have the revelation of God through Jesus the Word. Before the Word God the Father was unknowable – through the Word God the Father is revealed, unfolded, made known – it is as if Jesus reverses the doubt of Thomas through God – if we have the faith to abandon the desire of Thomas to know – if we can instead believe, then it is God who places his hand in our wounds – it is God who knows us and we who know God through Jesus, the Word.

On a symbolic, personal, and literal level we are made and sustained through the Word of God; we don’t need preachers to tell us this, we don’t need buildings to proclaim it, we can see it clearly in the imperfect translation of a two-thousand year old text – out of more than 30,000 verses we can see the entire truth of what faith is, what OUR faith is, and what the life of Jesus means to both in a mere 18 lines. A half of a tenth of a percentage of the Bible can tell us everything we need to know about faith and how Jesus works in our faith; how much knowledge is waiting for us in that other 99.95%? As I said at the beginning of the message, I pray that in 2010 we will read the entire Bible and begin to contemplate its mysteries. Will you pray with me?

Heavenly Father,

you have given us the Word

so that you may be revealed to us

and that we may become your children.

Give us the strength

and the time

and the will

to read the record of your Word

to understand it

to write it on our hearts

and to take the Word into ourselves.

In Jesus name we pray,

Amen.