The Secret Darkness

1 Samuel 16: 1-13
Ephesians 5: 8-14

It doesn’t take much to convince most people that they’re sinners. We all know our faults and our struggles and our burdens. We have all heard the sermons about how our wicked ways will lead us straight into Satan’s arms instead of Jesus’. However, even though we know we’re not perfect and that we are all sinful in some way, most of us sitting here probably believe we’re not terribly wicked sinners with no hope of salvation either. We’ve been raised to believe that Jesus can and has saved us from the lies we tell and the evils we commit.

 This passage in Ephesians about light and darkness, those who are wake in Christ and those who are asleep, reminds me of the Story of the Prodigal Son. We all know that the prodigal son was the bad apple. He is both the bad guy and one of the victim in the story, and at the end he receives a reward that he has not earned in the slightest. But we always forget about the Eldest Son. The son who although he always seems to do the right and honorable thing, is not the one in the story that ends up with his Father’s arms wrapped around him in love and forgiveness.

Martin Luther once said to “Sin boldly”. I think that the prodigal son was a bold sinner. He was a man that lived his life in a way that shames more honorable people, and yet he is the one that ends up having a transforming experience where he comes out of the darkness of his sinful life and enters into the light. The Eldest child starts out in the light and ends up in the darkness. How does this happen? How can someone good and dependable like the eldest son end up being the one that sits on the sidelines and watches as his good for only having a good time brother ends up receiving everything that he, the eldest brother, has worked so hard for his whole life?

I think this is our problem as Christians sometimes, those of us that are lifers. We have always believed in Jesus and we cannot remember a time when we didn’t believe that God has sent his son so that we wouldn’t be condemned, but instead we would be saved and have eternal life. We are the eldest child who attends church every Sunday and volunteers our time for various committees and community functions. We’re the ones that people depend on and we have come to see ourselves as not perfect, but pretty dang good people. We don’t really consider ourselves degenerate sinners, but we don’t consider ourselves saints either.

A couple years ago, I was on a CS Lewis kick and read the book, The Screwtape Letters, which is about the story of an older demon counseling a younger demon. At one point in the book, it says, "You will say that these are very small sins, and doubtless, like all young tempters, you are anxious to be able to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy [God]. It does not matter how small the sins are, provided that their cumulative effect is to keep the man away from the Light.… Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick. Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."

Perhaps, this is why Martin Luther says to sin boldly so that everyone may know what are sins are and they will eventually come into the light. We’ll have to face the sins if people point them out to us, but if they are secret sins and ones that are committed with little guilt or thought, they can eventually pull us away from God just as effectively as committing murder. It’s hard to think that a few small sins can do the same amount of damage as murder, but yet, it does and sometimes more easily too.

You see, it is only human beings that put a gradient on sinful acts. We do not see a lie being as awful as murder. We do not see how disrespecting an individual can be as awful as raping a person. We do not see how constantly being jealous over what others have can be as bad as committing robbery. And yet, every person that commits murder, rape, and robbery all began with these so-called little sins too. And the more we do something, the less fantastic it seems and the more ordinary and okay it seems.

I was watching the show Bones the other day when the lead actress said something very interesting. She said that in an experiment, people were given goggles that made everything upside down when they looked through them. For three days, everything was upside down, but the brain adjusted to this disorientation and on the fourth day when they woke up, the world looked right side up until they took off the goggles. Then it took them another three days for their brain to adjust and again see the world the way it was. Our minds are amazing. God created our mind to help us adapt to whatever life throws at us so that we may survive.

In an effort to survive in a sinful world, sometimes we shut out our own sinfulness. We put levels on sinful acts and tell ourselves that the lie we told our spouse is not that big of a deal even though a lie is a sin. We get tired of the world beating us up, and to protect ourselves we make our own culpability less by thinking that the things we do, although wrong – do not really damage our soul and our connection to Jesus. But they do.

And the really scary thing is that the more we pretend that these little sins mean nothing in the long run, the blinder we become to when we commit larger sins. A couple years ago, I took a tour of a cave. The guide taught us an interesting fact about this. A person who lives in total darkness for just a few months will become irrevocably blind. Darkness not only hinders sight, it causes blindness.

This passage in Ephesians is asking us to wake up and see where we are living in darkness. It is reminding us that we are beautiful people that are filled with God’s Holy Spirit and therefore, we do not need to fear or live in darkness. But although we know this on an intellectual level, and even manage to believe it sometimes, we do not always live as children of the light. We do not own the person we are and the inheritance we have been given.

In the story of the Prodigal son, it took a man who faced a deep darkness to recognize where the light in his life existed. He didn’t want to become blind and lost, and he returned to the source of his greatest happiness – his father’s arms. The eldest child who never left his Father’s house and yet, had no joy in his heart was the one who gradually was pulled deeper into the darkness.

As lifetime Christians, it is hard sometimes to find joy every Sunday. We are weary of being the good person all the time, the dependable person, the one everyone comes to for advice. Sometimes, we just want to live our life free of commitments and obligations and worries. And we begin to grumble about those who seem to live a freer and more sinful life. We make comments about the way they dress or the things they do. We make up stories about why they weren’t at that social function this week and we refuse to forgive those who we feel have slighted us by not doing what we feel they ought to have done.

This is the way the Eldest child felt about his brother. He begrudged him the goodness and light he found. He felt jealousy and he coveted not only the easier lifestyle he imagined his brother had, but then at the end, he coveted the relationship his brother ended up having with his father. He was committing sins without even realizing it and we do the same thing.

That is why Jesus constantly tells us not to judge others and not to be so fearful and worried about what goes on around us. Sin boldly, and repent with a joyful heart. It is Lent and therefore it is time for us to see where we have lied to ourselves about who we are and face Jesus with bowed heads. Ask the Lord to bring us back into the light, to shine upon us and reveal where darkness has entered our hearts. It is time to let the Holy Spirit refine and purify our souls so that not only will we be in the light, but we will BE a light to those who are still in the dark.

Amen.

You're Justified, But Are You Sanctified?

Exodus 17: 1-7
Romans 5: 1-11

A few years ago, I chose this passage and tried to explain justification to all of you. When it came back around, I realized now it is time to explain what sanctification is all about. But first, let me remind you what it means to be justified through the blood of Jesus Christ, as Paul says to us in Romans 5. He tells us that “When we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly…while we were still sinners, Christ died for us...we have now been justified by his blood.”

Let's say you were caught speeding down this highway in front of the church. You were doing 100 mph, obviously slightly out of the acceptable speeding window. You go to court and just as the judge is about to throw the book at you, someone steps forward and says, "I will pay the fine. I will take the punishment." And you get off, without paying the fine, without any punishment at all. You have been justified, you have been made right in the eyes of the law. It doesn't change the fact that you were speeding, but the court sees you as innocent. That is what Christ did for us. That is what it means to be justified by the blood of Jesus.

Lent is well on its way and we are in the midst of trying to figure out who we are in the eyes of society as well as God. We are struggling to understand our role in the world and how it sometimes conflicts with what God would have us do in our lives. When we hear that Jesus died so that we would not have to take on the punishment for our sinful lives it is an amazing discovery. It is freeing and life-giving.

But this is where sanctification comes in. It is not enough to be merely free of the punishment of sin. That is what God has done for us. How do we show that God has done this amazing and miraculous thing for us? How do we share with the world that we are people who have been saved and transformed and forgiven though the life-giving blood of our Savior? Martin Luther said "There is no justification without sanctification, no forgiveness without renewal of life, no real faith from which the fruits of new obedience do not grow." 

Martin Luther seems to be implying that if we are truly justified by the blood of Christ, then something inside of us changes. Paul also tells us that when he says, “…but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. In today’s society, when someone says that we should be thankful for our struggles we look at them like they are crazy. Why would anyone be joyful over pain and heartache?

How could any person be thankful for constant despair? What could we possibly have to learn from the seemingly endless pain that living life brings? Think of the process of refining maple syrup. Maple trees are tapped with buckets hung under the taps, and out drips a sap which is thin and clear, like water. On a good day, 50 trees will yield 30-40 gallons of sap, but it is essentially useless at this point with only a hint of sweetness. 

Then as the buckets fill, they are emptied into large bins that sit over an open fire. The sap comes to a slow boil; and as it boils, its water content is reduced and its sugars are concentrated. Hours later, it has developed a rich flavor and golden-brown color, but it must be strained several times to remove impurities before being reheated, bottled, and graded for quality. In the end, those 30-40 gallons of sap are reduced to one gallon of pure, delicious maple syrup, which is far better than the cheap, imitation, colored sugar-water that passes for maple syrup in the grocery store. 

It is the same when we come to faith in Christ. We start like raw, unfinished sap, which could have been tossed aside as worthless. But God knew what he could make of us. He sought and found us, and his skillful hands are transforming us into something precious, sweet and useful. The long and often painful refining process brings forth a pure, genuine disciple easily distinguished from cheap imitations.

Therefore, every struggle we endure and every heartache that we experience is a moment where we can learn how to rise above the pain and become more like Jesus. We can wallow in our despair or we can find strength of character that brings people to us. I heard a seminary professor once tell the class that people who have been wounded and allowed the wounds to heal instead of fester tend to have a sort of gravitas to them. They have the ability to pull people to them because the strength of their character, the purity of their wounded but healed soul shines forth clearly for others to see. People are drawn to them because they recognize that this person has not only known pain, but has risen above the pain to become a better, more Christ-like person.

That is what Jesus is calling us toward. A life of gravitas where people are drawn to the person we are because we have something more inside of us. We have the light and love of Jesus Christ, present in the power of the Holy Spirit, given as a gift from God. People who have risen above their pain to be a balm to other wounded souls are people who make the world a brighter place. It doesn’t mean they don’t endure suffering, but they do not let it defeat them. They let it refine them into someone who has grace and mercy in their heart.

Are we such people? Are we filled with the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ or have we allowed our past burdens and pain to create bitter hearts and judgmental attitudes towards those around us? Are we joyful or are we sorrowful? Lent is the time to analyze our character. It is the time we look deep inside ourselves and we pull out the ugliness that we don’t like to face any other time of the year. It’s the time when we recognize ourselves in the jeering crowd that rejects Jesus, our Savior. It’s when we see our sinfulness more clearly and we are convicted in our hearts and spirits to change.

A basic mark of true spirituality is a deep awareness of sin. In Scripture those who most despised their sinfulness were often those who were the most spiritual. Paul said he was the chief of sinners. Peter said to Jesus, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man." Isaiah said, "Woe is me, because I am a man of unclean lips." Spiritual people realize they are in a death struggle with sin. For Paul, ultimate spirituality was to be like Jesus, and that is not something you could attain by any one-time experience.

We are justified by the blood of Christ, but that does not mean we are sanctified. Sanctification is a life-long process that starts by recognizing how unworthy we are to be children of God, and yet finding deep joy and gratefulness that we ARE God’s children and we are loved beyond anything we could ever imagine. And through that love, we change and become more like Jesus.

Paul told Timothy in 1 Timothy 3:15, "I have written so that you will know how people ought to act in God's household." While there are right and wrong ways to act when attending church services, Paul is not talking about attendance manners but rather how you and I are to act as part of God's household - the body of Christ. 

Stuart Briscoe explains that as a young man he joined the Marines. "Their magnificent dress uniform attracted me, and I thought that I would get one of those uniforms immediately. But they didn't give me one for months. When I asked about it, they told me, 'You are a Marine. The moment you walked through the gates, you became a Marine. You are a Marine to stay.' I said 'Give me another uniform then.' They replied, 'You are not fit to wear one yet. We will have to do something about your back, about your chest, and about your shoulders. We'll have to teach you how to march, how to walk, how to look like a Marine, and how to behave like a Marine. Then you can wear the uniform.' I was a Marine the moment I was sworn into that position, but it took me a long, long time to wear the uniform. 

We are sanctified the minute that we are washed in the blood of Christ. But it will take us the rest of our life to learn how to behave in a sanctified way. We will always be justified because we are washed in the blood of Christ at the moment of our baptism. However, it is a lifetime of learning and refining that makes us sanctified. And it is only possible to be sanctified if we recognize where we have fallen short of the glory of God. When we recognize how our sins have kept us from God. This is your time to become closer to God; to see yourself through Jesus’ eyes and to allow the Holy Spirit to chase away the darkness and bring you further into the light of God’s love. May you be so brave as to face who you are while seeing who you will become with God’s grace.

Amen. 

What's So Special about the Transfiguration?

Exodus 24: 12-18
Matt 17: 1-9

Every year we read the story of the transfiguration and I can remember as a child, not really understanding what the fuss was all about. So a couple guys show up and Jesus glows for a moment. Big deal – Jesus is God – doesn’t that mean Jesus might have a little something extra that makes him shine in ways that us mere mortals cannot? And the couple of guys showing up – that happens all the time in the Bible, why is THIS moment so special?

I remember that what really interested me was Peter’s response to all of this happening. Why in the world did he want to make shelters for the three of them? I mean, if they walk down the mountain there is probably food and shelter there already, why go to all the work of preparing special shelters? To my young mind, that was a much more interesting thing than these men appearing and Jesus shining brightly.

When I thought about this, I realized the Transfiguration was never really explained properly to me which is why I always just read the scripture and nodded my head and wondered what we were really celebrating here – that God talked to Jesus or the fact that Peter can sometimes be a dunce? The Transfiguration has special significance to us because this is the moment when the glory of God shines forth so brightly in Jesus that even dunce-ish Peter sees that Jesus is more than a mere mortal. This is the reason they had all dropped their nets to follow a man they had never met. That special, other-worldly power that radiated out of Jesus at special moments and otherwise was a gentle beacon that pulled people toward him.

The Transfiguration is the moment when we realize Jesus is a human being, but Jesus is also God. Jesus has come to save us; Jesus is the manifestation of a God that loves us so much that God became part of God’s own creation. God became human to understand us better and to love us more fully and so we could understand God better and love God more fully. This is a moment of great significance! This is where the prophecy of Immanuel comes true – Immanuel: God with us and present in the form of Jesus Christ.

Most other religions have a remote God. A God that while it sometimes cares about what is going on in its peoples’ lives, rarely interacts in any way with them. But not Christianity! In Jesus Christ we were given the most miraculous gift – that of a God that cares so much that God became one with us! God watched our struggles; heard our fears and complaints; listened to our hours of sorrow after our losses, and could not stay separate from us any longer. God became human to help us and to understand us. God could not stay a remote God that merely watched our lives; God wanted to be part of them.

Which is why what happens to Jesus is so hard for us Christians to bear. This week we begin our Lenten season with Ash Wednesday. We know the ending to the story. We know the pain and sorrow that is about to be revealed to us. We know the cross is coming and we do not want to carry it. We do not want to listen to how he was tortured and humiliated, and in light of this moment of the Transfiguration as Jesus sees our fear and tells us gently, “Do not be afraid” as he puts his hand on our shoulder – we realize we are afraid. We’re deathly afraid of what is to come.

Our lives are full of unknowns. We go about each day waiting for the day when our own cross will be too heavy to carry any longer. We are afraid of the ending; not just our Lord’s ending, but our own. We want to have faith in God. We want to believe that everything will turn out alright in the end, but this world is so often in chaos that it becomes hard to remember and trust. We see the same thing in Peter, James, and John in this passage.

They go up the mountain with Jesus after hearing the news of Jerusalem’s destruction and Jesus’ imminent death. It is only human that in their minds they play out the next few days and weeks. They begin to look for alternatives, desperate for a second opinion, a way to stop time. They want to build a safe sanctuary away from the world, to be content in the moment, saving Jesus and themselves from the heartache to come. They cannot, and neither can we.

We cannot stop those hospital room moments when we’re told that we have an incurable disease. We cannot stop those times when we hear our child is in jail or in some other serious trouble. We cannot stop those times when we are fighting with those we love most and it feels like our world is crashing around our ears and our hearts are about to burst from the pain of it all. We know that these moments exist and it isn’t until we see something good in the midst of all the bad that we are able to understand what Jesus is here to teach us. Like when we are at our lowest moment and our grandchild comes running up with a flower clutched in his sweaty hand and a big grin on his chocolate covered face and he says, “I love you.” That moment of happiness in the midst of great sadness is when we begin to understand that where there is suffering, there is also God. These are the moments when we realize God is present in suffering and sacrifice, just as God is present in the promise and potential of our lives.

But too often we forget about God’s presence. We become distracted and we allow the world to tell us that God doesn’t really care. C.S. Lewis wrote in the Silver Chair about this. He has Aslan tell everyone, “Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly. I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearance. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.”

When we meet Jesus Christ in our lives, everything becomes clear for a brief moment. We do not wonder and we are not afraid in those moments of clarity. We know who we are – we feel contentment and peace. However, they do not last because the world takes its toll on our hearts and minds. This is what Aslan was warning his people about – that clarity is harder to come by and the peace and happiness is harder to feel in the middle of a chaotic world. He is warning them to not lose sight of God and we must not lose sight of who Jesus Christ is. The Transfiguration is so special because it is a moment of clarity right before the greatest trials and sorrows for the disciples. For us.

The transfiguration offers the disciples and us the paradox that while there is nothing we can do to save ourselves from suffering, there is also no way we can shield ourselves from the light of God that sheds hope in our darkest moments. This moment is the moment we hold on to when we feel lost in the darkness and feel hopeless and empty.

We cannot keep ourselves safe just as we cannot stop what is about to happen to Jesus. In our lives there will be joy and sorrow and both must be faced, but that does not mean we face these things alone. The Transfiguration is our reminder that God is indeed with us and that no matter where our life journey takes us, we have Jesus on our side and the Holy Spirit in our hearts and that God loves us so much that we have been given these great gifts despite doing nothing to earn them.

Yes, the Transfiguration is something to be celebrated. This is our moment of hope that will anchor us as Lent begins. We will remember the blessing of our God loves us so much that he became a part of us; that God suffered and died for us; this is our moment to remember no matter what crosses we bear – we do not have to carry them alone.

Amen.