The Imperishable Seed

Peter contrasts two kinds of life, and he reminds us that we have been given both. The first is a perishable life that we all know quite well. It is the life that is filled with good and beautiful things, much like the grass and the flowers of the field are good and beautiful for a time; but as the author says, one day they will wither and fall. As he puts it, this is the life made from “perishable seed.” But there is a second kind for those in Christ, a life made from “imperishable seed,” a life formed from the enduring word of God. The questions we must ask are, which of these lives will we invest in? Which will dictate our larger life choices? Are we living for that which perishes, or are we living for the eternal and the enduring?

Already But Not Yet

We are in a season that has traditionally been called “Eastertide.” The resurrection has left behind it a “wake” that has altered reality. Let us not live as if nothing ever happened. The Kingdom of God has already broken into our world! And yet . . . not yet. Or at least not completely. The kingdom is already, but not yet, here. Jesus has defeated death and sin, but we await death’s death blow. We live between the times. The question is, how ought we to live in such a time as this?

He is Risen!

Easter and Christmas are the two pillars of the Christian calendar. They root the church in two grand realities that tell us about the God we serve and shape what we believe and how we are to live. Today we celebrate Easter. We remind ourselves that no matter how dark the story gets, it isn’t over until resurrection happens. The resurrection of Christ is the first fruit of the redemption of the world. It is God’s down payment to us, where he says, I’m going to redeem this place, believe me. When we shout, “He is risen! He is risen indeed!”, we are remembering that the redemption of the world has begun in the resurrection of one man. Surely we need this message today.

Open Palms on Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday, in a vacuum, is a glorious day. The entrance of a king! It is the celebration of the one who brings peace, humbly riding on a donkey to take the throne that has long awaited him. But we know that the days that follow are anything but glorious. The days that follow are filled with anguish and death and even betrayal. As Holy Week processes, Palm Sunday looks like a distant memory in the rear-view mirror. The disconnect between it and Good Friday is difficult to square. And yet, this year of all years, we feel the disconnect. We do not celebrate in a vacuum but in reality just as Jesus’ celebration did not exist in a vacuum. And so, on this Palm Sunday we open our palms and stand with hands and hearts open to where God is leading us. We may not understand it, and it is not a road we would choose, but rest assured in this: all of the roads that God leads us to and through ultimately lead to resurrection.

We Will Rise Again

Resurrection is a common thing to talk about this time of year. Spring has begun and the world is waking from its winter slumber. We are in the middle of Lent, preparing for the power of the resurrection on Easter morning. But this year is different. As I’ve seen stated in one meme going around the internet: “I didn’t expect to give up so much for Lent!” We’ve given up closeness and touch; many have given up going too far from home; some have, unwillingly, given up jobs and the security of a regular income. Ezekiel 37 speaks of a promised return from exile, something we might better appreciate in the middle of this virus. Or as Jesus says about Lazarus, in John 11, we “will rise again." But the exile of Israel and the death of Lazarus have important lessons to teach us, and we must learn them while we still can. The questions we need to be asking are: What will we rise to when all is said and done? Who will we be on the other side of all of this? And what lessons must be learned from this time of exile?

Psalm 23

Psalm 23 is a passage that has made its way out of Christian and Jewish circles and into the popular culture at large. Its beauty and simplicity speak to the heart in metaphor and symbol. It is a poem, of course, and in an age that has little time for poetry, it is much needed. It speaks of shepherds and sheep, waters and paths, tables and cups. It is not despite the ordinary nature of the images but because they are ordinary that this poem speaks to the depths of souls. But in these troubled times, it is the line about the “valley of the shadow of death” that stands out most. David speaks not as one pontificating about the valley, but as one who writes the poem while walking through the valley. As we read God’s word this morning, may we find the green pastures and the still waters that the Lord desires to lead us toward.

Obedience

I’ve heard more than a few people at this church say, “Obedience is God’s love language.” I like this! God desires our obedience. And, as we all know, sometimes obedience is hard. It requires doing things we don’t want to do or not doing things we want to do. And this is not easy stuff, as Paul tells us very clearly in Romans 7:19. However, believe it or not, this kind of obedience is not the ideal. What we are really striving for is a complete change of nature so that obedience to God doesn’t require muscle and strength of will but a simple, “Yes, Lord.” This kind of obedience, where one’s heart is turned toward God completely, is where our spiritual journeys should be heading. It’s that place where our desires and God’s desires sing in unison.

Temptation

To be human is to be tempted. Temptation is as old as the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in the garden of Eden and is as recent as the frustration that you did (or didn’t) resist on your morning commute to church. It is a regular part of life and it’s not going away any time soon. So what do we do? How do we cope with the temptations that plague us, and where do we turn when it gets the best of us? That is what we need to talk about this morning.

Metamorphosis

 Most of us are familiar with Palm Sunday. We’re all familiar with Easter Sunday. Today, however, is a day you might be less familiar with: Transfiguration Sunday. What’s that you say? You’ve never heard of Transfiguration Sunday? Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Transfiguration Sunday is traditionally celebrated the Sunday before the season of Lent which kicks off this week with Ash Wednesday. The Transfiguration of Jesus on one end of Lent creates a bookend to the other end: the Easter resurrection! When understood this way, the Transfiguration serves as a foretaste of the glory of resurrection, and both the transfiguration and the resurrection remind us of the glory and transformation of our own souls that are in process and yet to be realized.

Merely Human

In today’s passage, Paul accuses the Corinthian church of acting “merely human,” which is to say that they are acting as if the Spirit of God does not dwell in them. This is no small accusation. Our faith invites us into a new way of being human. Not that we are no longer human, but that our humanity is met with the power of the Holy Spirit empowering us to be more like Christ. If Paul were a guest preacher this morning, would he speak to you as he spoke to the Corinthians? Or is the Spirit transforming you day-by-day?

Unveiled

In the opening chapter of John we learn quite a lot about Jesus. He is the Word which is from the beginning. He is God incarnate. He is the light of the world. He is the only begotten. He is Lord. He is the Lamb of God. He is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit. He is the Son of God. He is Rabbi, Messiah, the one of whom Moses and the prophets spoke, and the King of Israel. And while each of these carries profound implications, it is the final line of the chapter that prompts today’s message. Here Jesus says that the disciples will see “the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” The meaning of this statement and its implication on our own lives is nothing less than transformational. Let’s dig in!

The Search

In today’s reading, Jesus asks one of life’s great questions: What are you seeking? The answer, both in the gospel and in life, can be hard to pin down. But the question needs to be asked because you’re only going to find something if you’re seeking it out. The disciples teach us that they are seeking the presence of Jesus; staying or abiding with him. They name him Rabbi or teacher, and through his presence and teaching they come to understand he is the messiah. What are you seeking?

Who Are You?

The Bible is filled with good questions. It’s one of my favorite things about the Bible. It asks questions that penetrate the everydayness of life and force us to take a closer look at our lives. Today’s text asks one of those good questions. John the Baptist is at the Jordan River baptizing many when the priests and Levites go out to find out what is so special about this man. They ask him: “Who are you?” John’s response is telling, and it’s what we need to talk about today, but ultimately it’s not John’s answer you should be concerned with, it’s your own. Who are you? You, sitting in the pew reading these words. Who are you? How would you answer this question?

Immanuel

Frederick Buechner writes, “Until we have taken the idea of the God-man seriously enough to be scandalized by it, we have not taken it as seriously as it demands to be taken.” The incarnation—that is, the coming of God in the flesh—confronts us with a scandal that we too often fail to see. To put it simply, and perhaps crudely: God. Wore. Diapers. Let that sink in. The God who created all things and sustains all things entered into creation, became part of creation, and took on human flesh as a baby that was just as weak and needy as any baby you have ever held. If this is not a window into God that you have ever considered, let’s do so together today.

Do You See What I See?

The word providence, simply put, means “God’s working in the world.” While the vast majority of Christians believe that God indeed works in the world, if you were to ask for everyday examples of God’s movement, you might be met with silence and a difficulty at naming such a thing. The problem isn’t that God is inactive, it’s that we often do not have the vision to see God’s action. We have failed to open our eyes to the movements of God in the world around us. Similarly, John the Baptist asks Jesus whether he is the “one to come” or if he should keep looking. Jesus’ response is essentially: open your eyes! Look at what God is doing right in front of you! Let us today open our eyes and see what God is doing right in front of us.

O Little Town

The town of Bethlehem was a one-stop-light kind of town where not much happened. Where the sheep grazed upon its hillsides, and the shepherds dreamt of the city life in nearby Jerusalem. From atop Bethlehem's tall, rolling hills, one could see Jerusalem, the city of kings, rising in the distance. And yet, despite the litany of kings that were born within the walls of Jerusalem—king after king after king—it is Bethlehem that hosted the two most notable figures of history. Upon entering the city, you might find a well-worn sign that reads: “Birthplace of King David.” And just below it, “Birthplace of Christ the King.” O little town of Bethlehem, your significance in the course of human history is not lost on us.