The Unstoppable Kingdom

Mark 4:26-29

26 He also said, "The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come."

            Time. We measure it in millennia, centuries, decades, years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds, and nanoseconds (that’s one-billionth of a second). We can capture events in time with print, pictures, and film. We can keep track of time with wristwatches, clocks, and calendars. We can even observe the effects of time as we gaze up into the night sky or down into the deepest places of our planet. Yet for all the ways we can track, observe, and experience time we cannot stop it. Time marches on whether we like it or not, and it marches at its own pace whether we like it or not.

            When I reflect on my own life I can see the reality of time’s inability to be slowed, quickened, or captured. When I was in elementary school, I wanted time to speed up. I couldn’t wait to go to high school, where we got to change classes and put our books in lockers. When I was in high school, I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen so I could get my driver’s license, get a job, and buy a car;  after I got my car, graduation and the real world couldn’t come fast enough. In college, I couldn’t wait to graduate, so I could get married and start seminary. Now, here I am, married for six years, three years out of seminary, quickly approaching my thirtieth birthday, and at times I find myself wishing I could wind back the clock, slow down time or reverse, to go back to those days of regulated nap times, when paying the bills was someone else’s responsibility, and all I had to worry about was whether or not there were marshmallows in my breakfast cereal!

            On the other hand, I think we all experience those days when we wish five o’clock would arrive a little sooner, those weeks when we wish Friday would hurry up and get here, or those vacations when we pray for time to slow to a crawl so we can see every site or soak up more sun while we lounge in allowed laziness. But alas, we are not masters of time, for time continues to grind on without our assistance or approval. In a word, time is unstoppable.

            Now, perhaps that’s somewhat of a discouraging thought for you, but may I suggest that simply because something is unstoppable that does not mean that it isn’t beneficial; just because we are unable to completely control something doesn’t mean that it’s all bad.

            Take, for instance, the way children grow. How many of you parents have ever said something like this about your children: “I wish they would just stay this age and not turn into teenagers”? Or how many of you have ever sent your child out of the house for his or her first date, afraid of what trouble the changing effects of time and biology may lead to? Inside the door frame of my grandmother’s pantry there are painted over scratches and faded pencil marks that all continue halfway up the length of the jamb. Each mark tells how tall my cousins and I were at certain points in our childhood, but none of those marks gets shorter. Just as time’s passing is relentlessly unstoppable, so is the growth of our children. Try as we might to slow it down, stop it, or even reverse it, they grow up whether we like it or not. It is unstoppable.

            Like the passing of time or the growth of children, today Jesus tells us a story about the way in which a seed grows. Once it is sown in the good soil (reminding us perhaps of the story we heard from Jesus a couple of weeks ago), nature takes over and the seed in the ground germinates. Once the first, frail leaf of the plant breaks through the darkness beneath the dirt into the warm light of the daytime sun, the great miracle we call photosynthesis takes over as the plant absorbs sunlight and nutrients from the soil to grow taller. Jesus describes the action of the growing seed in verse 28: “first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.” What really puts the point on the parable, however, is what Jesus says at the beginning of that same verse: “The earth produces of itself…” The earth is producing the growth, not any action of the scarcely mentioned one who scattered the seed. In this story, the understanding here is that the seed grows from the earth on its own, in its own time, in its own way—whether the farmer likes it or not.

It’s actually quite fascinating to think about how much faith it took for one to grow something in Jesus’ day. Today, we genetically manipulate seeds to produce bigger fruits or greater yields. We scientifically craft their DNA so that they can resist pesticides and herbicides and grow in harsh weather conditions. In the first century, however, the understanding of why and how plants grew was left to little more than experience and faith, as Jesus says in verse 27 “the seed would sprout and grow, [the sower] does not know how.” So a farmer planted seed in his field, prayed, and waited for the earth [to] produce of itself. Once a plant started to grow, there was no stopping it, no reversing its growth because the season wasn’t right or the farmer wasn’t ready. When a crop began to grow, the farmer had no choice but to see it through to harvest. He couldn’t slow it down or halt its growth—in a word, it was unstoppable. Jesus tells this story about the unstoppable growth of this seed for the same reason he tells many of his stories, in order to describe the kingdom of God. He says in verse 26, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground…” The kingdom of God is like the growth of this seed—once it starts, its growth is unstoppable.

But this isn’t the easiest of concepts for us to understand. For something to be unstoppable means it’s out of our control, and we want control—we need control. We like being able to control when something begins and when it ends. We like being able to make our own schedules and live by our own rules. Do you realize we now live in a world where a person can pause live television, grow a “fresh” tomato in the dead of winter, remotely start the engine in his or her car, and manipulate the temperature and humidity in his or her house from a different country with nothing more than a smartphone carried in a pocket?! Our powers of control are only increasing, so a story from Jesus about an uncontrollable movement, and uncontrollable kingdom might not sit that well with us. If we can’t control it, we often don’t want it.

There are exceptions of course. For example, I remember watching the first infomercial for the Ronco Showtime Rotisserie & BBQ in my grandmother’s living room nearly a decade ago. Today, according to the Ronco website, the company sells thousands of those machines every week.[1] What is the claim about this machine that makes it such an enormous seller? Ron claims you can “set it and forget it!” Nothing to control; just set the dial and forget all about it until it’s ready. The machine controls itself. To tell you the truth, that’s one of the things I like about the automatic transmission in my truck; I don’t have to manually select gears in order to accelerate or take a steep incline on the road. I just drop the transmission into drive and I’m on my way. And I’m sure many of us can testify to how convenient it is when our banks or credit card companies have some sort of automatic bill pay that handles paying all our bills on time each and every month. It’s one less thing to worry about, one less thing to control. I guess sometimes it’s nice when things are out of our control; we just like to call them “automatic.”

“Automatic,” however, still carries with it a sense of control (we can always cancel online payments and put the car in park). The kingdom of God, however, doesn’t work like that; it doesn’t begin and end simply because we want it to. No, the kingdom of God, like a seed growing up from the ground, is unstoppable once it starts—and the reality is it has already begun. Jesus’ first words in Mark’s gospel are found in chapter one, verse fifteen, and with Mark’s first recorded words of Christ we hear him proclaim "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." The kingdom of God is at hand, and all throughout Mark’s gospel we hear of how unstoppable its growth is as Jesus gathers followers on his way to the cross and the ultimate expression of the kingdom’s unstoppable power as even the power of death could not hold it back—the grave could not stop it!

In the words of Jesus, “the time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand.” It has started and it cannot be slowed or stopped, for it grows by the power of God and the moving of the Holy Spirit. The kingdom of God is here, growing among us even now, so each of us is faced with a decision: will we join the growing kingdom, or will we let it pass us by? We cannot slow it. We cannot stop it. We can only choose to join it or ignore it. For the kingdom of God is unstoppable; Christ’s reign as king and lord is unstoppable, God’s will to reconcile us unto himself is unstoppable. Through faith in Christ we join in this unstoppable kingdom, for just as the seed grows and the earth produces of itself, the kingdom grows and produces of itself.

Yet there is coming a day when the fullness of God’s kingdom will be realized, “when the grain [will be] ripe” and “the harvest [will] come." There is coming a day when God will be fully known, and as the apostle Paul says in his letter to the Romans: "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall give praise to God." So it seems that even our eternal recognition of the kingdom is unstoppable. However, the decision still remains: will you recognize the unstoppable power of the God’s kingdom present among us even now, or will you continue to ignore its presence, hoping to ignore whatever work the Holy Spirit may be working in your own life?

The unstoppable Kingdom of God is at hand. It is here among us today. It is as a seed scattered on the ground, which grows in a mysterious and unstoppable way, and the time for its harvest, its fulfillment, is coming. Will you join this kingdom now, giving your life and trust to its king, Jesus the Christ?

Let us pray…

---

[1] https://www.ronco.com/

Stories of Change

Matthew 13:44-53

44 "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. 45 "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; 46 on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 47 "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; 48 when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. 49 So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous 50 and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 51 "Have you understood all this?" They answered, "Yes." 52 And he said to them, "Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old." 53 When Jesus had finished these parables, he left that place.

Last month, The Atlantic magazine’s website, TheAtlaticWire.com, published an article titled “A Dictionary of Despicable Words.”[1] Picked from various website comments, facebook posts, and tweets, this dictionary consists of words that many people feel are abused, misused, or overused. The list of words found in this dictionary include artisanal, damp, epic, firstly, hipster, literally, moist (which is the least favorite word of my college roommate), troll, um, winningest. Missing from the list, however, is a word I personally cannot stand, yummy. It’s not that I don’t like the people who use the word (or any of its various forms), there’s just something about that word I find, well…despicable. It’s a word I don’t like to use, a word that sort of makes my skin crawl.

Of course, it seems that in the life of many congregations there is one word in particular that is often seen as despicable. It is a word that many church folks fear—it can give them a bad case of indigestion or perhaps make them a bit light-headed. It’s a word so common outside the walls of steepled-sanctuaries, however, that it can easily go unnoticed as just a part of everyday conversation, yet it is a word that can turn a calm, quiet business meeting into a hurricane of out-of-control emotions and can cause even the most saintly of souls to drop their attitudes of civility in the midst of the people of God. It is a word that can cause such frustration in the midst of many congregations that church buildings sit empty on account of this word. Now, maybe it’s more accurate to say that the effects of this word are not the fault of the word itself but the reactions of those who hear this word. The reactions to this single word can cause such trauma and such drama in the hearts, minds, and spirits of many a church member that part of me hesitates to say it even now in this room, so if you’re a bit worried about what effect this word may have on you, now is the time to cover your ears. What is this word that can cause such tremors in the lives of so many congregations? It is a simple, six-letter word: change.

Are you still with me? (If the person sitting beside happened to cover his or her ears you can nudge them now and tell them it’ll be alright.) Yes, change is a word, an idea, which causes so much trouble in the life of many congregations. Don’t believe me? Well then just ask any pastor who decided to cancel Sunday evening worship services because no one was showing up, or ask the music minister who decided to include an acoustic guitar, an electric bass, and a drum set in the morning worship service. Ask the minister who made the suggestion to put a screen and projector in the sanctuary or the publishing house that changed the format of their Sunday School literature. They’ll all tell you, change can be an awfully powerful word when spoken in the midst of many a congregation.

But why? Why is it that so many church people and the congregations of which they are a part flinch at the idea of change? I have a theory. I think it’s because change often means giving something up and most of the time the something we’re asked to give up isn’t necessarily something we’re willing to give up. It’s something that makes us comfortable, something that helps us feel at ease about the approach to faith we have chosen to take. That something that we’re often asked to change is one of the few things we can hold on to from the so-called “good ole days.” Change often asks us to give up something—or in the most extreme cases, everything—in order to take up something else, something different. It is beyond strange to me that so many congregations, so many “good, Christian people,” fear change. After all, aren’t we called by Christ to change ourselves?

I think theses short “Jesus stories” (parables) we’ve heard here today are in fact stories about change. They are stories that speak about the most drastic kind of change—change that calls us to give up everything in order to take up one thing.

Look again at the first of these stories Jesus tells in verse 44: "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” According to John Claypool, this story isn’t nearly as far-fetched as we might believe today.[2] During the generations of wars fought between the superpowers of the Ancient Near East all over the Judean landscape, residents of that land with any belongings of value would bury their treasure beneath the earth to protect it from pillaging hordes. However, many times those who buried their treasures were often killed, imprisoned, or exiled, never to return to uncover their belongings. Therefore, it wasn’t all that uncommon for a farmer to be plowing along and suddenly bang the blade of his plow on some long forgotten treasure. It’s quite likely that there were those in the crowd around Jesus who had themselves found some buried trinkets or who knew someone who had.

In this story, Jesus tells of a man who finds a treasure hidden in a field, perhaps while on a stroll through the countryside or while working in the garden of his superior. When this man discovers this treasure, he makes what comes to be an enormous judgment call: he decides this treasure that he has stumbled upon is so valuable, that he hides the treasure in the field, returns home, posts his belongings on Craigslist, EBay, and Amazon, holds a yard sale, and sells his last possessions to the pawn shop down the street in order to buy that field where he found the treasure. In Jesus’ words, he “sells all that he has and buys that field.” Talk about a change! The man in Jesus’ story went from his normal, comfortable life with his home and all his belongings to only owning a patch of dirt with a treasure he found to be worth more than all he possessed before. He is willing to give up all that he has, willing to accept the change that comes with buying the field and the treasure hidden in it.

The second of Jesus’ stories we’ve heard today is quite similar. In verses 45 and 46 Jesus says, "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” The only noticeable difference between the man in the first story and this merchant in this story is that this merchant is actually out searching for something. Jesus says he was “in search of fine pearls” and when he found one—just one—of such a great value, like the man from Jesus’ first story “he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” He deemed this pearl to be perfect and of such great value that he was willing to sell all that he had—to change his whole life—in order to posses this perfect pearl.

Why were these two individuals in Jesus’ stories willing to change their entire lives for the purchase of a single field and a solitary pearl? What motivates any of us to take the kind of risks that have the potential to change our lives? What is truly powerful enough to cause us to make decisions that appear foolish and downright irresponsible? It is the belief in the kind of change that leaves us better than we were before. It is the belief that the risk is worth taking—a belief so strong that the notion of risk no longer exists. And in the end, it’s ultimately a matter of judgment. That’s where we hear Jesus’ third story.

In verses 47 and 48 Jesus says: "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.” In this short parable, Jesus describes the all too familiar actions of the ancient, Judean fishermen. They would row out into the water or stand on the bank, cast out a great net, and when it was full, haul the net to the shore to sort out the good, marketable fish from those that were too small to sell. The vocation of fisherman was not simply one of brute strength and physical ability; it also involved the ability to judge what was valuable and what was worthless. A great haul of worthless fish was a wasted cast of the net, but a net filled with fewer, valuable fish, could put change in their pockets and bring change to their lives.

But Jesus doesn’t just leave us with this image of the fisherman for us to contemplate its meaning. No, instead he offers an explanation in verses 49 and 50: “So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Apparently, fishermen, pearl merchants, and treasure hunters aren’t the only ones who make decisions of change! Jesus gives us a look at the “end of the age” and how it is not unlike the practice of the fisherman—it will be a time of judging evil from righteous, a time of eternal change no doubt!

Now, I have to be honest with you. I cannot claim with the certainty of those in verse 51 that I have understood all of this that Jesus has said here in these stories. I do, however, find his last story in our passage today to be a bit out of place; it doesn’t really seem to make sense to include it with these previous stories. But then again…maybe it does make sense. Hear it again from verse 52: "Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old." At first, this saying seems a bit odd, with the mention of a “scribe who has been trained for the kingdom,” yet here again we are faced with a story that is actually about judgment and change.

On the far, back corner of my uncle’s house in Enterprise there sits an old, cinderblock house. Once upon a time, that house was the meeting place for a local motorcycle gang, but my granddad (we called him “Pa”) bought it and eventually sold it (or gave it) to my uncle. After Pa died in 1994, that block house became a place to store all his old radio equipment, junk parts from boats, cars, and lawnmowers, and even a few bottles of homemade wine. Eleven years later, when my grandmother (we called her “Ma”) died, my mom, aunt, and uncles sold her house and put the rest of her belongings in that old, block house.

A few years went by, and my uncle decided to clean out that block house and sell what things could be sold and give away the rest. My sister and mother called me while I was at school. You see, my uncle thought it might be better to clear out all the old, worthless junk in that house so that it could be used for something, but there were two or three in my family who wanted to hold on to those old, rotting and rusting belongings. Somehow, they felt that if they could just hold on to an old answering machine, or a few cheap plates that they could live in the past, that they could hold on to something old (even if it was kept in a drafty, cinderblock house on the other side of town). My uncle brought out from that house everything that was old and reminded my family of the past, but there was nothing new at all.

I’ve seen the same thing happen when church attics or basements are cleaned out. Old hymnbooks, rotting and crawling with silverfish, are put in boxes and kept to take up space because some patriarch from another century donated those hymnbooks. Antiquated programs continue to put a strain on the church budget and volunteers simply because there was once a time (several decades in the past) when such programs would bring dozens of people to church. Churches and church people have a strange tendency to bring only the old treasure out of their houses, ignoring the possibilities of the new.

There again, we see that even this simple parable is a story of change, for the "the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” still possesses the treasures of the past, yet he has had to make room for the new; he has had to judge what is better—to change and take on what is new, or cling only to the old treasures.

You and I are faced today and everyday with the reality that being a follower of Christ, or as he put it himself a “scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven,” means we are called to change. However, we do not change simply for the sake of change, but like that man who stumbled upon a hidden treasure, that merchant in search of the perfect pearl, or those fishermen sorting their catch on the shore, we change because we know that whatever we leave behind, whatever we may cast aside, can never compare to the grace of God and the love of Christ. We change because we believe that the dominion of Jesus is far greater than any kingdom we could ever create for ourselves. We change because we trust that Christ is far greater than anything we have, have ever had, or ever will possess. We change, because if we hold fast to where we are the kingdom of God will pass us by.

So, brothers and sisters do not fear the word change. Do not be afraid to leave everything behind, all that you are and all that you have, to come and follow Jesus, because that change that is to come—that change that is coming even now—is greater than anything you could ever imagine.

Let us pray…

---

[1] http://www.theatlanticwire.com/entertainment/2012/08/dictionary-despicable-words/55464/

[2] See Claypool’s sermon on this parable in his book, Stories Jesus Still Tells. 

Parable of the Soils

Mark 4:1-20

1 Again he began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. 2 He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: 3 "Listen! A sower went out to sow. 4 And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. 6 And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. 8 Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold." 9 And he said, "Let anyone with ears to hear listen!" 10 When he was alone, those who were around him along with the twelve asked him about the parables. 11 And he said to them, "To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God, but for those outside, everything comes in parables; 12 in order that ‘they may indeed look, but not perceive, and may indeed listen, but not understand; so that they may not turn again and be forgiven.'" 13 And he said to them, "Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand all the parables? 14 The sower sows the word. 15 These are the ones on the path where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them. 16 And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: when they hear the word, they immediately receive it with joy. 17 But they have no root, and endure only for a while; then, when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away. 18 And others are those sown among the thorns: these are the ones who hear the word, 19 but the cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things come in and choke the word, and it yields nothing. 20 And these are the ones sown on the good soil: they hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirty and sixty and a hundredfold."

            Perhaps this is a bit of a confession (though one I am sure many of you can join me in confessing), but sometimes I have a great tendency to hear without listening. That is to say sound waves strike my eardrum, vibrate all those tiny bones in my inner ear, get interpreted by my brain into bits of neurological information, that I then understand as sounds, but I don’t always pay attention to those sounds or allow them to actually register as something important in my mind. I hear, but I don’t always listen. To perhaps put it another way, hearing is a passive act, while listening is active.

Many (if not all) of you can relate in one way or another I’m sure. I mean, have you ever gotten a phone call from someone, and after about the first sixty seconds you enter into this patterned response of “Yeah…mmhmm…I know…that’s right…”? Or what about those of you who can recall your days in high school or college, those days when you would sit at the back of the room while your teacher droned on and on about the actions of chromosomes during cellular mitosis or how the Prussian Empire dominated Eastern Europe? Surely you can remember hearing something like that at one time or another, but did you really listen?

            Now, I don’t mean to make too much of the difference between hearing and listening, but I think the passage we’ve heard here today from Mark is filled with words from Jesus that certainly call us to listen (To be fair, the difference between “hear” and “listen” is not necessarily there in the Koine Greek of Mark). This is, however, in a very real way, a parable about listening, so it’s no surprise to me that Jesus begins this parable in verse three with the imperative “Listen!” and ends it in verse nine  with the declaration “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!" This isn’t just a nice story Jesus tells to pass the time on the long, hot roads of ancient Judea. No, this is a story that requires our listening. It is a story about how we listen.

            Now, in verse three Jesus begins telling this story by saying, “A sower went out to sow.” Often we’ve heard this parable referred to as “the parable of the sower,” but to be fair, Jesus doesn’t actually give the sower top billing; the sower is mentioned only as a necessary element in this story, as the one who sows the seed. Then we are told about the seed in verses three through eight. The sower sows this seed (think of someone simply taking handfuls of seeds and tossing them about as she or he walks around the field), and some of it falls on the well-worn path, some on the rock-rutted dirt, some in the briar patch, and some on the good soil. In all of that sowing the seed remains the same. Jesus tells us in verse 14 that the seed is “the word.” Now, please don’t misunderstand that phrase, “the word” to mean the whole of the Bible, both Old and New Testaments (especially the Authorized, 1611 KJV). No, when Jesus says that the seed is “the word” he uses the word logos which perhaps more directly means “message.” Therefore, the seed the sower sows in the parable is the message from God, the Good News, the Gospel, and while the word—this seed—is of great importance, it isn’t the primary focus of Jesus’ story. It’s the soils.  Jesus wants his listeners to focus their attention on the soils and how they received the seed. Thus, it is better to call this “the parable of the soils.” So let’s listen to what Jesus has to say about each of these soils.

            In verse four, he says “as [the sower] sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up.” Then Jesus explains in verse fifteen: “These are the ones on the path where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them.” It’s important to pause here and understand that throughout all of the gospels that contain his parables (that is Matthew, Mark, and Luke) Jesus doesn’t really take the time to explain them. This parable is an exception. Now, notice what Jesus says about those who are like the path: “when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them.” In other words, those who hear the message and quickly dismiss it, cast it aside, or ignore it altogether, are like the path where the seed was sown—such seed doesn’t even have a chance to begin to grow.

            I want to make a brief observation here if I may: a path is not worn smooth simply by the passage of time or the existence of the ground—it must be worn down and packed smooth by the actions of those whose feet tread upon it. So, before we are ready to cast judgment and perhaps withhold the word from those who are quick to dismiss it, perhaps we ought to take into account that those who quickly dismiss the Good News—those who are like the path where the seed is sown—are those who have been trampled upon and walked all over by the rest of the world, and there’s an awful good chance they have been worn smooth by the treading feet of those who claim to sow the seed. Yes, the seed, the word, doesn’t have a chance to take root and flourish, but maybe it’s because the path has been packed down by the feet of bad experiences and hypocrisy.

            Now, in verses five and six, Jesus continues to tell the story: “Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away.” He goes on to explain this part of the story in verses sixteen and seventeen: “And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: when they hear the word, they immediately receive it with joy. But they have no root, and endure only for a while; then, when trouble or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away.” Any one of us who has ever gone on a short-term mission trip, chaperoned a youth camp, or sat in the sweltering summer heat beneath a revival tent know the truth of this soil all too well. There are those who go away for a while, take an intentional time away from the cares of the world in order to focus on things spiritual, and upon their return, they seek to set the world on fire with the Good News of the gospel. Yet, when the “new” wears off and suddenly their renewed devotion to God interferes with their comfort they soon return to the way things were—the way things had always been.

            Sometimes we call these people who revert back to their old, comfortable ways “backsliders,” or we cast our judgment on those who seem to let go of their faith as quickly as they received it, those who reject the call of discipleship before the baptismal waters have dried from their skin. However, I can’t help but notice how quickly those of us who call ourselves the Church do the same thing. We reject the difficult decisions of ministry in order to stay in a place of comfort and familiarity. I can’t help but notice how quickly believers in this country seek to justify their comfort and complacency with societal norms in baptized language. Perhaps our own soil is a bit rockier than we’d care to confess.

            But then there are, after all, the thorns, the briar patch. I have to tell you, I hate thorns and briars. I spent a measurable amount of time as a kid picking sand briars out of my socks and shoes, and I ruined numerous t-shirts snagging them on thorn vines and bushes. Jesus speaks about thorns in this parable in verses seven then in verses eighteen and nineteen: “Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain…And others are those sown among the thorns: these are the ones who hear the word, but the cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things come in and choke the word, and it yields nothing.”

            Of all the soils in this parable, I think the thorny soil may be the most tragic (if soil can be tragic). It’s so like the good soil: thorns have already taken root in it and seem to have flourished, yet this thorny soil is so overrun with thorns that they choke out the seed—the seed the sower would have no doubt wished to grow instead of the thorns. Is it no different with us? We may make time on a Sunday morning to hear the word, yet when the time for this small compartment of our lives has expired we turn our attention to other things; we have “bigger fish to fry” we tell ourselves. The cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things crowd our schedules, crowd our thoughts, crowd our spirits, and while we may still have a stalk of faith shooting up from the thorns and briars of our lives, there is no fruit. We make time to hear the word, but we just can’t listen over all the racket of our own busyness and our own desires. It’s here where I think we need to listen to the rest of Jesus’ story as he tells about the good soil.

            In verse eight Jesus wraps up his parable: “Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold." The wonderful thing about this soil is that there really isn’t anything wonderful about it at all. In fact, it just does exactly what it is supposed to do; the thorn-free, rock-less, un-trodden soil receives the seed and produces a good to great crop (thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold would have been considered good to great for a crop of grain, not miraculous). With that in mind, listen again to Jesus’ explanation of this soil in verse twenty: “And these are the ones sown on the good soil: they hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirty and sixty and a hundredfold."

            There is nothing particularly special about this “good soil” in the parable. There’s no added fertilizer, no Miracle-Gro, no special chemistry; it’s simply free from those things that prevented the seed—the word—from producing in the other soils. And I believe that’s one of the lessons we ought to take away from this parable. Those who hear the word and accept it are not created special or different from those who do not. Those who hear the Good News and accept it are not any different in what they are than those who dismiss the word, those who recant under the slightest of discomfort, or those who allow the distractions of the world to choke it out. No, what is different is that the good soil is free of those things that prevent the word from taking root, growing, and (most of all) bearing fruit. So may we be mindful when we seek to share the message of God’s kingdom with others; may we be mindful that there are those who have been trampled over by so many things (even those who claim to share the gospel); may we be mindful that there are those who are not ready to take up their cross; may we be mindful that there are those who are too caught up in the distractions of the world and their own desires; and most of all, may we be mindful that we are no different.

            Let us work to be the good soil. Let us bring forth the fruit of God’s kingdom. Let us work to tread lightly upon the soil, ridding it of rocks and thorns, so that we may look forward to that day when the Good News will not only be heard by all, but all will listen and bear fruit for the kingdom. May we be people who listen and bear fruit, even now.

Let us pray…

Eating Bread and Washing Feet

John 13:1-20

1 Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2 The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4 got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5 Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. 6 He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" 7 Jesus answered, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." 8 Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." 9 Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" 10 Jesus said to him, "One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you." 11 For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, "Not all of you are clean." 12 After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. 14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16 Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17 If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them. 18 I am not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But it is to fulfill the scripture, "The one who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.' 19 I tell you this now, before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe that I am he. 20 Very truly, I tell you, whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me."

It could have been any Saturday morning in the late ‘80s or early 90s, we’d wake up to the smell of bacon fried in an old cast iron skillet and hand-made biscuits right out of the oven. We’d eat a bite or two of breakfast and maybe even catch an episode of The Smurfs or The Muppet Babies (which we always called the Muffet Babies) before running out the back door and jumping in the bed of Grandma’s truck to head into town to the grocery store. Now, Grandma didn’t always let us ride in the back of the truck; sometimes we’d have to ride in the cab with her and watch as the ear plugs she hung around the rearview mirror after working in the chicken plant all week would swing back and forth with the rhythm of the road.

We always went to the same grocery store in town—Sav-U. We loved Sav-U because we were members of their “cookie club,” and we’d always get a free cookie from their bakery. Sav-U was sort of a playground to us. The floors were checkered with red and white tiles; we’d pretend the red tiles were “lava” and see if we could walk all through the store without ever touching a red tile. After all, we didn’t want that lava to burn our bare feet. Grandma would eventually round us up to head home, and we’d jump back in the bed of the truck and let the groceries ride in the cab. After we got back home and unloaded the groceries we’d usually lay on the floor in the living room and watch cartoons before running back outside to play.

There was always a sure sign as to whether or not we had been to the grocery store with Grandma on any particular morning. It’s a phenomenon we refer to as “grocery store feet.” (Some of you know exactly what I’m talking about!) Whenever we went to the grocery store with Grandma the souls of our feet would get so dirty they’d be black with all the dirt and grime that collects on the floor of a grocery store. Sometimes we’d even wash our feet after a Saturday morning trip to the grocery store, and the water would be so dirty you could feel the grit in it! Our feet could get awful dirty just from a few laps around the tiled floor of the grocery store in town, so I can only imagine how dirty our feet would have been if we had had to walk around all day on the dusty roads in the dry heat of ancient Judea.

That wasn’t only a Saturday morning occurrence in the lives of Jesus and his disciples living in first-century Judea. They walked everywhere! There was no truck bed to be hauled around in, no taxi cabs, no sedans parked in the yard; to even see others riding atop animals like horses and donkeys would have been an exceptional sight. No, if Jesus and his followers were going to get anywhere, they were going to walk, and they didn’t walk on nice, clean streets either. They would have shared the same dirty, dusty roads as the rest of the citizens of that ancient place. Furthermore, they wore simple, leather-thong sandals (if they wore them at all), exposing their feet to the weather and the dirt of those same roads. Needless to say, the people of ancient Judea had more than just an occasional case of “grocery store feet.”

It was precisely because of this “dirty foot problem” that it was common courtesy for one to wash his or her feet when coming into someone’s home, especially for a meal. And if one was wealthy enough, a slave was given the task of washing the feet of guests. For the Jews of ancient Judea, however, foot washing was too lowly, too dirty a task even for Jewish slaves, so if a slave was to wash your feet, it was surely going to be a Gentile (non-Jewish slave). Washing feet was something left to the lowest of the low; it was a filthy job left for those considered to be just above the filth themselves.

With that in mind, we turn our attention to this passage before us from the Fourth Gospel (the Gospel according to John). Now, this is the only place in all of the gospels where we have this particular story. In fact, this story in John’s gospel takes the place of the “Last Supper” narratives in the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). This foot-washing scene is John’s Last Supper. It’s a particularly powerful story, because we see our Lord truly exemplifying his teachings, taking the job of the lowest slave in order to wash his disciples’ filthy, road-worn feet. The gospel writer describes in detail just how Jesus went about his work in verses four and five: “[Jesus] got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.”

Can you imagine what the air must have been like in that room when Jesus, after taking off his outer robe and tying a towel around his waist, knelt down on the floor and began washing those filthy, first-century feet? Can you hear the whispered gasps as Jesus splashed the cool, clean water onto the first foot of one of his followers? Can you feel the tension and embarrassment as Jesus wiped away the dust and the caked crust from the feet of those men in that room? Can you smell the sweaty leather of well-worn sandals and the feet that had worn them as the Creator of the universe bent low to wash the stench away? Is it any wonder that Peter would speak up with an obvious air of hesitation and refusal in verse 6: "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" They had been following this man, the Son of God, for some time now; they had seen him perform great signs and wonders, speak deep and mysterious truths, baffle both the religious and civil authorities with his understanding of God’s Law, and now—now this same man was kneeling on the floor to wash their feet like some unknown Gentile, slave?! And so, Peter asks, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?"

All throughout this gospel, Peter seems to be the one who speaks before he thinks. He seems to almost understand, but in the end, he misses it by a mile. Jesus says to Peter in verse seven: "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Now, as to whether Jesus meant that Peter would understand after Jesus offered an explanation, or after Jesus’ crucifixion and subsequent resurrection, or after his ascension and the arrival of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the answer seems to be simply “yes.” Peter would understand what it was Jesus was doing only after he understood who Jesus truly and fully is. So it’s no wonder Peter still doesn’t get it in verse eight when he still refuses Jesus: "You will never wash my feet." Jesus explained to Peter, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." Unless Peter was willing to accept all of who Jesus was, allowing Jesus even to wash Peter’s feet, Peter could have no place with Jesus, no part to play in his kingdom movement. So, Peter, as if trying to overcompensate for his lack of understanding says in verse nine, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" “Wash all of me, Lord!” Peter declares, but still he misses the point, for Jesus tells him in verse ten, "One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean.”

Now, at the end of verse ten we read Jesus’ words: “And you are clean, though not all of you." The evangelist gives us some narrative commentary on what exactly Jesus meant in verse eleven: “For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, ‘Not all of you are clean.’”  Here, in the middle of this powerful scene revolving around the washing of the disciples’ feet, the writer of the Fourth Gospel begins to weave another story, a contrasting story. You see, Jesus has washed his disciples’ feet—all of his disciples’ feet, including the one who would betray him, and it is Jesus’ betrayer to whom the evangelist begins to turn our attention.

Now, in verses twelve through seventeen, Jesus delivers a discourse explaining the significance of what he has just done: "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them. With these words, Jesus has not set a precedent for some sort of ritual; rather, he has set the example for how those who call themselves his followers ought to behave towards one another. In other words, it’s as if Jesus has said, “If you recognize me as your Teacher, your Lord, your Savior, your God, your Master, and I (your Teacher, Lord, Savior, God, Master, etc.) have done something for you as seemingly lowly and slave-like as wash your feet, then what reason can you possibly have to not do the same sorts of things for each other?” By washing his followers’ feet, Jesus has given them, given us, an example of humility and service, and he has foreshadowed his greatest act of humility and service in the giving of his very life on the cross.

There is, however, another story, another example, developing in the same room as this foot-washing. For just as the evangelist gave us a glimpse into the meaning of Jesus’ words back in verse eleven, in verses eighteen through twenty  Jesus himself sheds some light on what else is taking place in the midst of his disciples there: “I am not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But it is to fulfill the scripture, ‘The one who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.' I tell you this now, before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe that I am he. Very truly, I tell you, whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me."  Jesus almost seems to shift gears in the middle of his teaching about the foot-washing, when he makes reference to Psalm 41 in verse 18. But there is something there that ought to catch our attention, something that perhaps we recall from the other gospel accounts of Jesus’ last Passover with his disciples.

Unlike the other gospels, the Fourth Gospel makes no bones about who it is that would betray Jesus. The other gospels build up a little suspense. But in the Fourth Gospel we’re told as early as chapter six, verse seventy-one that it is Judas, son of Simon Iscariot that would betray him. Now, Judas was no outsider; he wasn’t some stranger who wandered in the door in the middle of Jesus washing his followers’ feet. Judas wasn’t one whom the others rejected, nor was he one who was treated with contempt or disappointment from the Master (remember, Judas’ feet were washed the same as every other disciples’). Judas even ate from the same table as Jesus and the rest of the disciples. There is no doubt that Judas would have taken the bread that Jesus broke or the cup that Jesus blessed according to the other gospel accounts. There is no doubt that Judas would have been right along with the others in his proclamations of loyalty and service to Jesus. Yet, in the end, after Jesus shows his followers how they are to love and serve one another, even through the lowliest of tasks, Judas betrays him.

Jesus washed Judas’ feet. Judas ate the bread Jesus gave him saying, “Take, eat; this is my body (Matthew 26:26).” Judas drank the cup that Jesus gave him saying, “this is my blood…which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28).” Judas was visibly a disciple in every way, and yet when the time came, he betrayed his Lord.

There are many who, like Judas, are visibly disciples in every way. They go to church; they read their Bibles; they give their tithe. There are many who eat the bread; there are many who drink the cup. But are there many who heed Christ’s example in his washing of the disciples’ feet? Are there many who would stoop so low as to serve others? Are there many who would take on even the lowliest of tasks in order to serve another human being? Are there many who would heed the ultimate example of Christ and be willing to go so far to serve others as to give their very lives?

There are many of us in this room today who are visibly disciples in every way. We’re here at church; we’ve read our Bibles; we’ve said grace at dinner. Today, we’ll eat the bread, and we’ll drink from the cup, but I wonder. Will we go beyond being simply a people who eat bread and drink juice? Will we go beyond being a people who simply go to church and do all the other things so-called “good, Christian people” do? Will you simply eat this bread and drink from this cup today and return to the world unchanged, betraying the calling of the Lord, or will you eat this bread and drink this cup prepared to fulfill the foot-washing example of our Lord and Master, Jesus the Christ? Today, will you simply be about eating bread? Or will you also be about washing feet?

Let us pray…

Freedom to Silence Ignorance

1 Peter 2:13-17

13 For the Lord's sake accept the authority of every human institution, whether of the emperor as supreme, 14 or of governors, as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right. 15 For it is God's will that by doing right you should silence the ignorance of the foolish. 16 As servants of God, live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil. 17 Honor everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honor the emperor.

            Once upon a time, if you needed to find the answer to a question or find a source of information, you would find your way to the local library, shuffle through the card catalog, select a book from the shelf, turn to the table of contents or index, then scan the selected pages hoping to find the information you needed. Sometimes you’d find what you were looking for, and other times you’d have to start all over. There was a great deal of work involved, and often to no avail. But thanks be to God that you and I live in the age of the internet and that wonderful tool called Google. Now, if you’re not familiar with Google, it’s what we call a search engine for the World Wide Web. It actually works pretty easy.

            Let’s say, for instance, you wanted to look up how to tie a bow tie. All you’d have to do is go to Google.com and in the search bar type in the phrase “how to tie a bow tie.” You’ll receive well over 38 million responses, including step-by-step videos to show you exactly how to tie a bow tie. No need for the card catalog or the Dewey decimal system. No need to find someone out in the world who knows what you need to know. All it takes is an internet connection, a computer, and a few mouse clicks.

            Google is far and away the most widely used search engine. It’s used so much in fact, that the word “Google” is also commonly used as a verb:  “Just Google it.” One of the unique features of the Google search engine is that it can often guess what you are searching for before you can complete typing in your question. It can do this because it uses an algorithm that takes all of the searches put into the site and can list the most common search inquiries based on character and word order. In other words, Google can guess what you’re looking for based on how many times the same words and phrases have been typed in the site.

            On Google’s sister site YouTube.com (a site where you can watch countless user videos of everything from cats playing keyboards to how to change the spark plugs on an old MG), a person known by the username “mustardseed” uploaded a video showing how Google’s auto-complete feature works when one types in the phrase, “Why are Christians so…” The results weren’t pretty; Google often completed the sentence by saying things like “Why are Christians so arrogant…crazy…defensive…hateful…ignorant…unlike Christ.” It was that last one that titled the video, and it was that auto-complete that got me.[1] At first, I thought maybe the creator of the video was just sharing a select number of the searches in order to prove a point…that was, until I tried it myself. I typed in the phrase “Why are Christians so…” into Google on my laptop and then hit each letter on the keyboard to see how Google and the rest of the world completed that sentence. Well, we believers are in luck! When I typed in the letter “k” the only response was “Why are Christians so kind?” Every other letter, however, yielded negative words…really negative words. This is troubling, because it means that the rest of the world is asking why we Christians are so hateful, ignorant, angry, pro-war, homophobic, and unlike Christ. The rest of the world sees our behavior, hears our words, and asks “Why are Christians so unlike Christ?”

            Have we used the freedom we have in Jesus to ruin our witness to a lost and hope-hungry world? Are those of us who strive to follow Jesus in word and deed simply overshadowed by those who claim the label Christian and hog the headlines and cramp the evening news all in the guise of religious freedom? Is this how it’s supposed to be? Can we really be comfortable with the well-worn excuses that the world doesn’t understand us, or that we are somehow being persecuted by our neighbors because they just don’t get our beliefs? Should we simply shrug our shoulders at such a problem and say there’s nothing we can do…or should we take up the words of Scripture we have read here today that call us to do the will of God so “that by doing right [we] should silence the ignorance of the foolish?”

            These words we have read here today come from a letter written “To the exiles of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia (1:1).” In other words, this epistle (presumably written by the Apostle Peter) is addressed to Christians who are surrounded by unbelievers, spread throughout the Roman Empire of the late first century. Now, things weren’t exactly easy for those believers, but they weren’t quite as bad as they became under emperors like Nero in later years. These believers were living among a people who had little more than assumptions and hearsay about who exactly these people called Christians were. The words of this epistle are written with the intent of lifting up the believers scattered among these Roman cities; they are words of encouragement and words of direction, and the words we have heard here today are words that serve to remind us that, like them, we live a world that is always watching us, always aware of the claims we make about Christ, always waiting to see if we will come through with the grace we proclaim or if we will shrink back into judgmental selfishness.

            Now, at first reading, one may be tempted to think that the apostle is claiming that accommodation and assimilation are the proper ways to conduct oneself as a follower of Christ in society. The words in verses 13-14, and 17 may lead us to conclude that we should simply recognize those who are put in charge of government and obediently follow their every command. While this is true to some extent, it isn’t the reason these words were included here. You see, this section follows an admonition to live as servants of God, and it precedes a list of what we call “household codes” that instruct believers on how to conduct themselves in the commonly accepted social structures of the time. With that in mind, these words we’ve read in verses 13-17 encourage us to live as exemplary servants of God within the social structures in which we find ourselves. In other words, as we live in this world—in our own context—we as Christians ought to be the exemplary citizens. Those of us who follow Christ ought to be the ones that others point to as the societal example.

            See, in verse 14, when the apostle speaks of “governors…sent…to praise those who do right,” he has in mind the ceremonies that often took place where local governors would praise those upstanding citizens who proved valuable and important to the community. It would be like someone being awarded a key to the city by the mayor for service to the city. The apostle is suggesting that Christians shouldn’t be quiet and reserved citizens, but be actively involved in society while living out the gospel as servants of God. Furthermore, by doing such things they would be doing the will of God, for verses 15 and 16 say, “it is God's will that by doing right you should silence the ignorance of the foolish. As servants of God, live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil.” The apostle admonishes believers to use the freedom afforded us by Christ (and in our case, this country) to do good, to live exemplary lives in our society, and by doing so we silence those who view us nothing more than hateful, judgmental and cruel citizens who seek to protect our own rights and rob others of theirs.

            You and I are afforded a great luxury as citizens of this country. This week we celebrate our independence, our freedom. Part of that freedom means we have the liberty to gather in places like this to worship the God in whom we believe. Part of that freedom means you and I can practice our faith outside of these walls, that we can carry our convictions and beliefs into our places of work and into the public square. Part of the freedom we have in this country centers on the idea that we are free to be publicly professing and publicly practicing followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. So why do we allow the minority of those who share our faith to determine how the world understands us? Why do we allow those who call themselves Christians and publicly make fools of themselves to make fools of us? Why do we sit back while the world asks “Why are Christians so unlike Christ?” You and I are given the freedom to practice the faith we claim in Christ. You and I are given the freedom from the bondage of sin. You and I are free in the hope of Christ’s resurrection to live out the will of God and “silence the ignorance of the foolish.”

            Let us begin this day to live out such freedom. Let us begin today to do good in the name of Christ and reclaim the gospel as Good News for a world filled with bad news. Let us take hold of our freedom in Christ and begin this day to reshape the world’s opinion of our Savior as we seek to do the will of God and bring his kingdom to this earth. May we come to understand that we are indeed free as followers of Jesus to do good and silence the foolish: both the foolish who refuse to accept the gospel and the foolish who disprove the gospel with their lives, despite the claims of their lips. Let us use our freedom to do the will of God each day.

---

[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WucgZBXq2lg&feature=player_embedded

From Pentecost to Athens

Acts 2:37-42; 17:16-34

37 Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, "Brothers, what should we do?" 38 Peter said to them, "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him." 40 And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, "Save yourselves from this corrupt generation." 41 So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. 42 They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

…

16 While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols. 17 So he argued in the synagogue with the Jews and the devout persons, and also in the marketplace every day with those who happened to be there. 18 Also some Epicurean and Stoic philosophers debated with him. Some said, "What does this babbler want to say?" Others said, "He seems to be a proclaimer of foreign divinities." (This was because he was telling the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.) 19 So they took him and brought him to the Areopagus and asked him, "May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? 20 It sounds rather strange to us, so we would like to know what it means." 21 Now all the Athenians and the foreigners living there would spend their time in nothing but telling or hearing something new. 22 Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, "Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. 23 For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.' What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. 24 The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, 25 nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. 26 From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, 27 so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us. 28 For ‘In him we live and move and have our being'; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.' 29 Since we are God's offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. 30 While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, 31 because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead." 32 When they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, "We will hear you again about this." 33 At that point Paul left them. 34 But some of them joined him and became believers, including Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris, and others with them.

            On February 7, 1999 in a borrowed building in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a small group of nervous Christians gathered to hold the first worship service of a new church start. They had no real idea what they were doing; they just knew they wanted to try something…different. They didn’t advertise the service; in fact, the sign that someone had rented for the front of the building was sent back. “People have to want to find us,” they said. Now, to most church folks, such an approach to starting a church is nothing short of crazy, but they took the chance. When that first Sunday morning came in February, the leader of this new church was hurried to the triangle-shaped windows in the front of the building to look out in the parking lot, and here is his own recollection of what he saw: “Cars and people everywhere…there were traffic jams in every direction; they had run out of chairs; and people were giving up trying to get through the traffic and just pulling over on the side of the road, parking, and walking the rest of the way. Chaos…There were well over 1,000 people there the first Sunday.”[1]

            Over one thousand people there the first Sunday?! Well, as you can imagine, they tried to be realistic about the situation, thinking perhaps this first Sunday was so well attended simply out of curiosity. The next Sunday, however, there were even more people, and with each week more and more people joined this new “thing”—this church. By that September they were holding three services with some 4,000 people in attendance every Sunday. Today, as we are gathered here in this room for worship, nearly 10,000 people (over several services) will gather for worship outside of Grand Rapids, Michigan in a converted shopping mall called Mars Hill Bible Church.

            If you could wind the clock of Christian history back some two thousand years, back to the birth of Christ’s Church, you may find a similar story to that of Mars Hill in Grand Rapids. In the second chapter of Luke’s second volume called Acts, we hear the story of how the apostles gathered together in one place on the day of Pentecost (the most popular of Jewish festivals in the day) after the resurrection and ascension of Christ. It was while they were gathered together in this one place that Acts 2:2 tells us there was “a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house.” Tongues of fire fell on each of them, and they began speaking in other languages as the Holy Spirit filled them. It must have been some sight to see, because we’re told later on in Acts 2:12 and 13 that “All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’”

            It was in response to this accusation of intoxication that Peter stands up with the other eleven apostles and begins to preach to those who looked on this strange sight. Acts 2:14-36 records the words of Peter’s sermon (arguably the first in the history of Christ’s Church) as he retells the story of Israel and how Jesus came as the perfect fulfillment of that story, and in the passage we’ve read here today (earlier in the service) we see the response to Peter’s words in verses 40-42: And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, "Save yourselves from this corrupt generation." So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Did you catch that in verse 41? “That day about three thousand persons were added.” That must have been some sight in itself, to see three thousand people come to faith in Christ in one church service, at the end of one sermon. I imagine the founding members of Mars Hill Bible Church and those first apostles at Pentecost must have felt the same way—overwhelmed and overjoyed to see such an enormous response to the proclamation of the Good News of Christ.

            Of course, that’s what we all want isn’t it? We want to pull into a full parking lot on Sunday morning, walk into a crowded sanctuary, and watch as countless people come forward during the invitation to join the work of the Kingdom of God. We want to see our attendance numbers rise, the church coffers fill, and the budget jump back in the black. We want to see innumerable children, youth, and young people descend on our church building every time the doors are open. We want to see hundreds—thousands even—join this church. We want Pentecost! We are, however, so often faced, not with the response of Pentecost, but with the reality of Mars Hill—and not the one in Grand Rapids, Michigan. No, I’m talking about the original Mars Hill, the Areopagus in Athens, Greece, the place where the Apostle Paul experienced the harsh reality of a pluralistic society’s response to the Good News of Jesus Christ.

            But before we get to Paul’s story, let me share with you another story, similar to the back story of the successful mega-church in Grand Rapids, but with a slightly different result. You see, just over a decade ago, several like-minded Christians gathered around a table in the conference room of the Coffee Baptist Association in New Brockton, Alabama (right where the buckle comes together on the Bible Belt). They gathered together to pray and discuss the possibility of starting a new church. They prayed, consulted professionals, did the research, and determined that there was a growing area of Enterprise, Alabama that had no church within a radius of a few miles, so as they prayed, they decided to begin the process of planting a “church on the circle” (which later became the name of the church start).

            They started with about a dozen people meeting in various places as they became available, and before long the church saw about one hundred people worshipping and laboring together as the Church on the Circle. However, after having a revolving door of leadership and a pastor who left them with the suggestion of disbanding and joining with another dwindling congregation in the area, the Church on the Circle became of church of two…not two-hundred…not two dozen…just TWO. As discouraging as such a story may seem, these two individual took the words of Christ in Matthew 18:20 seriously: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them,” and they began praying again for God’s direction. Today, as we are gathered in this place for worship, the Church on the Circle is meeting in the auditorium of a local Christian academy with around fifty worshippers. Even after a decade, these faithful followers of Christ have not seen their version of Pentecost; they have not looked out the windows to see the parking lot full and the seats overflowing, yet they persevere in their faith in the Christ who calls them to worship and to the work of the kingdom. They are living in the reality of Athens.

            We first hear about Paul’s visit to Athens in Acts 17:16, when the apostle arrives in the city alone, waiting for Silas and Timothy, his co-laborers in the gospel. We hear in that verse that, “While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols.” Athens has been a major metropolitan center for centuries. In Paul’s day it was the capital of Attica in the province of Achaia, the former capital of the Greek Empire, an ancient center for the arts, learning and philosophy, home of Plato's Academy and Aristotle's Lyceum.[2] The ancient Roman philosopher Cicero made the claim that Athens was singularly responsible for the reputation of Greece. It was a city not only filled with culture, but it was a city overrun with temples to all sort of idols.[3]

Paul, with his heart troubled by the sight of such idolatry, took his concerns to the local synagogues and even to the public markets where the locals would often discuss and debate all manner of topics, including the gods and various religions. Now, the locals in Athens (the Athenians) loved to hear and discuss new things, and to them, Paul was the latest thing to breeze into town. So after discussing the nature of Paul’s arrival in verse 18, they ushered him to the Areopagus, Mars Hill, a popular place where trials were often held, speeches given, and debates occurred. Once Paul had their attention he began in verse 22 with what is easily the most rhetorically perfect speech in all of the New Testament. Over ten verses, verses 22-31, Paul crafted an explanation of the gospel that would make many modern-day apologists stand up and applaud. He began with creation, pointing out how God is Creator and therefore cannot be made by human hands. Paul quoted some of their own poets and philosophers in order to make a contextual connection with his audience. Paul spoke of their enigmatic temple to an unknown god and pointed out that people are the groping offspring of God. Finally, masterfully, Paul wound his rhetoric back to the truth of the gospel in verses 30 and 31: “While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead."

Now, after all of this, this wonderfully apologetic explanation of the gospel to an eager audience in a mass metropolis, one would expect a picture similar to Pentecost after Peter’s sermon. One would expect that the crowds would clamor to Paul, eager to hear more about this God and the resurrection he promises…but that doesn’t happen. No, Paul, despite his admirable attempt, saw no mass conversion in Athens; he saw no great flood of faith, no numbers worth bragging about or reporting. We heard in verses 32-34, “When they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, ‘We will hear you again about this.’ At that point Paul left them. But some of them joined him and became believers, including Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris, and others with them.” Paul received little more than a nod of interest and a handful of converts, but he planted no church there in Athens. Paul’s experience at Athens stands in stark contrast to Peter’s experience at Pentecost, yet Paul’s experience ought to feel very familiar to us.

Like Paul in Athens, we are in the midst of an extremely pluralistic culture. All around us, people worship at the various altars of our day: consumerism, selfishness, luxury, and even patriotism. Our friends, families, and neighbors are lured by the promises of this world, yet they are willing to give at least a nod of approval to the God of creation and redemption (just as the Athenians were willing to erect a temple to an unknown god). Even here in the South, the Bible Belt, we are surrounded on all sides by competing narratives with the gospel, yet we still long for, we still hope for, we are still dissatisfied unless we see…Pentecost.

And that is where I think we can learn most from Paul’s story. While Paul preached an immaculate message to a crowd eager to listen, the response he received was minimal at best. Paul, however, did not give up on the gospel he proclaimed. He did not see the lack of response as failure. He pressed on with his mission, and would go on to start churches across the Roman Empire and make plans to take the gospel as far west as Spain. Now, you and I, we gather in this room week after week, some of you have been gathering in this room for years, even decades, and we have yet to see anything like Peter’s experience at Pentecost. No, in fact, it seems we are regularly faced with Paul’s experience at Athens. But let us, like Paul, not lose hope in the gospel we proclaim. We may never see the mass movement of Pentecost on this hill in Anniston, but that just might not be what God has for us. We may indeed be called to simply be the faithful, relatively few who gather in this place for worship and scatter into our communities for the kingdom of Christ, living in the reality of Athens and praying for our own version of Pentecost.

Let us be faithful in ministering here, where we are, in our own Athens. Let us be faithful in praying for the ministries of our church, so that we may see our own Pentecost. May each of us dedicate ourselves to the work God calls us to right here, right now, so that we may see the kingdom of God grow in our midst.

Let us pray.

---

[1] Bell , Rob. Velvet Elvis. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2005, pp.100-101.

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athens

[3] Bock, Darrell L. Acts: Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2007, p.560.