Text:  1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14

Theme:  "In Transit"

12th Sunday after Pentecost

August 19, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

¹⁰ Then David rested with his ancestors and was buried in the City of David. ¹¹ He had reigned forty years over Israel—seven years in Hebron and thirty-three in Jerusalem. ¹² So Solomon sat on the throne of his father David, and his rule was firmly established.

³ Solomon showed his love for the Lord by walking according to the instructions given him by his father David, except that he offered sacrifices and burned incense on the high places.

⁴ The king went to Gibeon to offer sacrifices, for that was the most important high place, and Solomon offered a thousand burnt offerings on that altar. ⁵ At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon during the night in a dream, and God said, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”

⁶ Solomon answered, “You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart. You have continued this great kindness to him and have given him a son to sit on his throne this very day.

⁷ “Now, Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. ⁸ Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. ⁹ So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?”

¹⁰ The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. ¹¹ So God said to him, “Since you have asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, ¹² I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be. ¹³ Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for—both wealth and honor —so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings. ¹⁴ And if you walk in obedience to me and keep my decrees and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life.” ¹⁵ Then Solomon awoke —and he realized it had been a dream.

In the car business, they call it a "B.V.A.".  "B.V.A." stands for "Borrowed Vehicle Agreement."  The agreement, which includes a laminated license plate from the dealership, allows you to drive without a license from the State of Texas.  These BVA's are given out for a loaner car when a customer is having their regular car worked on or they are test-driving a new set of wheels for the weekend.  The B.V.A. is the modern version of the old "In Transit" plate that you saw on cars.  It basically stated that you were "in transit" from the old official license that you no longer had and the new one that was on the way. 

You and I, as human beings, are not equipped with an "In Transit" plate, but we should be.  All of us, in one way or another, are "in transit":  from one day to the next, from one moment to the next, from this life to the next.  We rarely even think of this, but sometimes the  transits (transit is short for transition) are noteworthy.  Couples, for instance, are "in transit" between the "'Will you marry me?'  'Yes, I will marry you'" of engagement and the "...till death do us part" of the marriage ceremony.   Once the plans are firmed up, many high school graduates are "in transit" from the moment they are accepted at the university to when they actually move into the freshman dorm.  Parents, then, begin the slow transition to the empty nest.

I was talking to a friend the other day, and we got into the subject of our favorite books.  He likes historical fiction.  I do, too, but I'm a little more eclectic.  After you've read Karl Barth and John Calvin, one can be forgiven for wanting to dig into a CIA counterterrorism novel!  Anyway, we got to talking about World War II.  Two titles came up:  Erik Larson's In the Garden of Beasts (which details the story of Franklin Roosevelt's first ambassador to Hitler's Germany) and John Meacham's Franklin and Winston (the account of the developing friendship between Roosevelt and Winston Churchill). Churchill, in the early years of World War II, is frantic.  In some way or another, he has to find a way to transition the United States -- the only hope of a free Europe -- from a peace time economy to a war time economy. But here in America, we were quite content to let foreign wars be foreign wars.  The isolationist impulse was strong.  But Churchill got through to FDR, and, under the radar screen, the United States delivered some old cruiser boats from the Navy to the Brits under the "Lend Lease" program.  Pearl Harbor, of course, that day that will live in infamy, sort of forced America, with what Roosevelt called its "righteous might", into the conflict. The transition was underway. 

Many of us, myself included, are wary of being in transit.  Stated differently, we don't like change.  If the wheel ain't broke, don't fix it.  We are creatures of habits -- and, hopefully, good habits that have been in place for awhile.  We plan our day; we plan our week.  We even build a little flexibility into our schedule.  But then (and it has happened to all of us), life throws us something from left field, something completely out of the blue, something we never saw coming -- and we are forced to adapt, to change, to be in transit. 

Today's Old Testament from First Kings gives an example of what happened during a time of transit.  The basic story is the death of King David -- that great and towering figure of Biblical history.  It's also the story of King David's son, Solomon, who took over the kingship in his father's place. Take away all the royal trappings and the historical significance, and it's basically about a young man whose dad died.  That's tough stuff.  That changes a person.   David served as King for forty years.  He served during what some have called the "Glory Days" of Israelite history.  It certainly was an "in transit" time.  Solomon -- roughly twenty years of age at the time --  was in transit; the monarchy was in transit; the great nation of Israel was in transit. 

When people are in transit, when they are faced with profound change, I have a hunch that they really like to sleep -- if they can get to sleep.  Why is that?  Well, it kind of takes you away for a few hours.  Time stands still.  In today's story, this is where God sort of barges in.  God comes off looking like some genie fresh out of a bottle with a wish to grant. 

Solomon, awash with change, had just buried his father.  One night he was sound asleep.  God shows up in a dream and says -- like a genie might say:  "Ask for whatever you want me to give you."  If God barged in on you in the middle of the night ready, willing, and able to grant you one wish, what would it be? 

I mentioned books earlier.  One that I'm reading now is by Malcolm Gladwell. It's called Blink.  Gladwell makes the case that the human mind, on a sub-conscious level, makes snap decisions all the time. Faced with being in transit or with a decision to make, the conscious part of our mind takes a while deciding what to do.  We consider the evidence and weigh the options.  It takes time. Gladwell's point is that the sub-conscious has already formed its conclusion in two seconds, in the blinking of an eye.  What's scary, at least in terms of the data Gladwell presents, is that the sub-conscious, "snap" judgment is right more often than one might think. 

Which made the decision for Solomon:  the conscious or sub-conscious part of his brain? We don't know.  We do know that he quickly assessed the situation.  He started off by referencing that God was kind.  God had treated both he and his dad, King David, with kindness.  Then he gets honest with the predicament he was in.  It was a time of transition, and he had determined that he was too young and not able to function as the King.  The kingdom of Israel had grown by leaps and bounds.  There were too many people.  How could he -- who, if he lived in our day, was not old enough to drink legally -- govern these people?

How many times haven't we felt as though we're in the same predicament?  We're faced with a time of transition.  We assess the situation. We admit that we've made it in safety to a new day.  God has been kind in that regard.  But we have made a snap judgment that we are simply too ill-equipped to handle what life is throwing at us.  There are too many issues, too many people, too many contingencies, too many feelings to consider, too many options, too little time.  We don't have it in us.  And now God is asking us what we want.  For crying out loud, we don't know!  Of course, if you got the route of popular culture, the decision is easy.  It's a snap; it's the blink of an eye.  We want fame and fortune. 

Now it's time to receive the gift of Solomon's answer.  In that time of transit, in that period of change, and in the middle of the night, Solomon asks for one thing only:  a discerning heart.  He doesn't ask for fame and fortune.  For that matter, he doesn't ask for a calculating mind.  He doesn't appear to be concerned about making decision in the blink of an eye or after having thought it through for a long period of time.  Again, he asks for one thing:  a discerning heart. 

He doesn't discount the mind, but he would go deeper. He wants his spirit, his soul, his heart to be able to discern and to figure out what to do.

You know, every morning is, for us, a time of transition.  What if we adopted the thought, in the morning when we get up, that God is once more asking us what we want?  And what if we, taking a leaf from today's Old Testament reading, responded with:  "I want a discerning heart.  O God, show me, your servant, this day, what is the right thing to do"? For all the times of being in transit; for times of change in their big varieties, small varieties, or every variety inbetween, our spirit responds with:  give me a discerning heart.

Jesus Christ had a discerning heart.  His heart knew the predicament the human race was in.  God, His Father and ours, showed Him what to do.  And so He willingly went to that death on the cross that means forgiveness for us -- forgiveness for all those snap judgments or calculated judgments that went so wrong.  He was truly "in transit" between death and life, and, on that first Easter Sunday, He rose from the grave to adorn all of our times of transition with the truth that God is on our side.  God is willing, and able, to give us a discerning heart for the day, for the life, that is ahead of us.  It's a snap.

 

Amen.

 

 

Anger Management?

Text:  Ephesians 4:25-5:2

Theme:  "Anger Management?"

11th Sunday after Pentecost

August 12, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

²⁵ Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. ²⁶ “In your anger do not sin”^[d]: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, ²⁷ and do not give the devil a foothold. ²⁸ Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.

²⁹ Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. ³⁰ And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. ³¹ Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. ³² Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

¹ Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children ² and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Today's New Testament reading touches on a subject that we've all dealt with in one way or another.  I speak of anger.  This topic, I fully realize, could possibly dredge up some unpleasant memories for some of you and you may be thinking:  "Perhaps it is best to let sleeping dogs lie."  What complicates the matter is that your minister of Word and Sacrament, personally, does not handle anger very well.   One witty writer once described anger as "the dubious luxury of normal men."  Thus stated, I'm not a normal man.  For me, anger is poison.  I'd be the first in line to say that anger toward someone or over some situation has occasionally found me flying off the handle, and saying things, and doing things that I later regret.  As result, I've been ashamed; I've felt guilty, and the whole emotional soup is distasteful and unpleasant.

Thus, I've set myself up for a nearly gargantuan task this morning:  I want to tastefully and pleasantly address the matter of anger.  My hope is that, through it all, we will come to appreciate -- and even apply to ourselves -- what the Word of God has to say on the subject. 

A good way to start is to ask this question:  is anger something to be avoided or something to be gotten rid of?   Psychologists and psychiatrists, who may or may not be Christian, often speak of "managing" anger.  Is that it?  Should we manage it?  Or should we try to avoid it or get rid of it? 

 During rush hour and at other times of day, I AVOID Loop 288.  The traffic situation -- with its sheer volume of cars with many of the folks behind the wheel texting on their omnipresent iPhones -- tends to make me angry.  Thus, by calculating and taking a different route, I have avoided anger.  And it's safer to text this way.  There's another thing about anger.  We get angry at other people who engage in the same kind of behaviors that we do.  It's probably because we're inconvenienced, and being "inconvenienced" is a prime cause of anger.  Being "inconvenienced" is just a nice way of saying that we're not getting our own way. 

Now for something different!  Late in the evening on Tuesday or early in the morning on Wednesday, the folks at my house make a point of not avoiding the trash.  Instead, they get rid of it.  They fill up the dumpster that the city of Denton has provided, and they roll it down to the curb for pick-up.  In other words, they don't avoid the garbage; they don't manage the garbage;  they get rid of it. 

So we're back to the question:  is anger to be avoided or gotten rid of? At first glance, our reading appears to be saying  GET RID OF IT.  Ephesians 4:31 comes right out and says it:   "Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice."  Bitterness, rage, brawling, slander, and malice are, pretty clearly, brothers, sisters, cousins, and second-cousins of anger.  What a happy family that is, huh?  (I'm being facetious.)

There's another interesting point that the text makes.  Earlier in the passage, it says this:  "In your anger, do not sin."  This seems to suggest that we will be angry.  It is entirely possible to be angry and not to sin.  It's not always likely, but it's possible.  Put it all together and we conclude that we will be angry in this life.  It can't be avoided.  Furthermore, the first step toward getting rid of it is to acknowledge that it exists. 

I know that it exists in my life, and I'm here to tell you it doesn't exist in isolation.  Anger doesn't like to hang out alone.  Many times it hooks up with sadness, with guilt, and with shame.  They start to do a little dance, and I've found myself so emotionally dizzy that I honestly don't know what I'm feeling anymore. 

As a result, I read a passage from the Bible like we have before us today and I get mad!  Get rid of anger?  That is easier said than done! That's like trying to untangle five hundred feet of tangled up Christmas lights.  C'mon God!  C'mon St. Paul.  Don't just tell me to do something; show me how!

My study and experience lead me to conclude that there are a number of ways in which folks deal with anger.  The most dangerous way is the first one that I'm going to mention, and that is denial. Let's say that your starting to get upset over something.  You begin to grit your teeth.  The hair on the back of your neck is bristling.  Someone notices you and says:  "Joe or Jane, you seem to be upset."  And you, Joe or Jane, says:  "Oh, no.  I'm okay.  No problem. Did I look like I was mad?  I'm entirely alright."  Of course, that's a lie because you are mad.  I reminds me of a plaque that read in an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting house one day:  "The deception of others is almost always rooted in the deception of the self."  In other words, when you're mad and deny that you're mad, other people aren't the first one you're being dishonest with; you're being dishonest with your self.  Denial, as the old saying goes, "is not a river in Egypt." 

The trouble with denial, regarding anger, is that the anger really isn't gotten rid of.  It's just stuffed down deep inside.  It's submerged in your soul.  That anger, then, starts to digest.  And it produces that caustic little morsel called resentment.  There are people out there who appear to be healthy, well-adjusted, and seemingly a-okay.  But, truth be told, they are harboring resentments so deep and so profound that every ounce of energy that possess has to called upon to give others the appearance that they are doing "just fine."  Denial doesn't get rid of anger; it just compounds the problem. 

Another way to deal with anger does, indeed, get rid of it, but it has no regard for God or the neighbor.  It is the destructive -- even libertarian -- way of dealing with anger.  Your instincts take over, and you fly off in a blind rage.  You completely lose any pretense of control.  This is a most dangerous approach because it can do serious damage -- even physical violence -- to others.  You may have gotten rid of anger, but what a mess you've left in its wake.  You throw alcohol or drug abuse into the mix, and you likely have a story destined for the police blotter. 

This libertarian way has another sinister aspect.  It what I've heard referred to as "gunny-sacking".  Let's say you're boiling mad about what someone else has said or done, you get up the moxie to confront him or her.  "You know, what you said today really bothered me."  The person replies:  "Well, it bothers me that it bothers you."  "Well, I'm upset."  "Well, now I'm upset; you're always getting on my back about something."  And you say, "What?"  "Well, there's the time when you said this."  "Yeah?  Well, what about the time when you did that?"  On and on it goes -- all around the prickly pear -- as every possible grievance that one person has for another is rehashed and renewed.  At the end of the argument, no one wins and you're so far away from the original, specific reason for the anger that you can't even remember what it was.  Anger isn't gotten rid of, it's just assigned to the win or loss column.

There's a third way to approach your anger.  It's the best way, but it takes practice.  It's a way that has some risks, but it is honest.   You start by acknowledging to yourself that you are upset.  It's too important a matter to fool yourself about.  Simply put, you pause; collect yourself, and confess to yourself that you're angry.  Next, you determine what you're angry about.  You may not be 100% sure.  It could be a combination of things.  One way that has been suggested, at this point, is to write things down if you can.  Try to connect the dots.

The story is told -- and it is a true story -- of young man who went to a family program at a treatment center for alcoholism and drug abuse.  This family member thought that he was going to learn about how they treated his loved one for addiction.  What happened there shocked him.  The family program wasn't about the alcoholic or addict at all.  It was about the family member of the alcoholic/addict.  One day in a group meeting, the counselor said to the young man:  "You seem impatient and agitated.  Many family members are.  While you're glad your loved one is getting treatment for his disease, you're probably still dealing with your anger.  In fact, here's what I want you to do.  I want you to go home tonight, get out a legal pad, and write down one hundred things you are mad at your loved one about." Now the young man was really mad.  "Of course I'm mad at my loved one, but I love him.  There are a few things I'm mad about, and I'll get over them. But there are nowhere near one hundred things."  The counselor replied:  "You'll probably get about twenty or so, and then you'll stall.  But then I want you to really start thinking.  Get specific.  In the end, you'll probably have well over a hundred." 

Two days later, that counselor approached the family member in the group setting.  She said, "It's time to share your list."  "That's personal," the young man said.  "That's part of the problem," the counselor replied.  With no small amount of fear, the family member looked down at the legal pad and started to read.  He didn't get half way through the list before he broke down and began to cry.  "There," said the counselor, "now you know what you've been holding in for so long.  And you've begun to let it go." It wasn't easy; it was risky.  There were some fears that attended it, but that young man asserted his anger; he acknowledge it; he named it; he owned it.  And, in the process, he got rid of it.

When we try to deal with our own anger by either denying it or flying off the handle, we are -- to use the language from Ephesians -- giving "the devil a foothold."  When we let the sun go down on our anger, that anger is only going to rest and then wake up with us and continue to bite us. 

The best way is the Christ way.  That means, first and foremost, that we don't see ourselves as people with "anger issues".  Life becomes not just another day on the calendar where we attempt to "manage" anger.  Instead, we wake up as dearly loved children of the God who loved us so much that He sent Jesus.  Or, in the words of St. Paul, we "walk in the way of love." 

Amen.

A Persuasive Appeal

Text:  Ephesians 4:1-16

Theme:  "A Persuasive Appeal"

10th Sunday after Pentecost

August 5, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. ² Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. ³ Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. ⁴ There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called ; ⁵ one Lord, one faith, one baptism; ⁶ one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

⁷ But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. ⁸ This is why it^[a] says:

“When he ascended on high,
he took many captives
and gave gifts to his people.”^[b]

⁹ (What does “he ascended” mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions^[c]? ¹⁰ He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.) ¹¹ So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, ¹² to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up ¹³ until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

¹⁴ Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. ¹⁵ Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. ¹⁶ From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Along with the topic of the triple figure heat in Texas,  water cooler chat at the office these days has to include a comment or two on the Olympics in London.  In terms of the number of medals won, the USA's Michael Phelps is the greatest Olympian that ever lived.  The rising star, bubbling with personality, is American swimmer Missy Franklin.  And who can forget the mega-watt smile and massive talent of Gabby Fisher who won gold in women's gymnastics.  That takes us to last night.  On NBC's expansive coverage, we saw Great Britain's Jessica Ennis win the women's heptathlon.  England, seemingly united as one, was cheering her on with Prince William and his bride, Kate, high-fiving each other as the cameras rolled.  Then there's USA basketball, headed up by Kobe Bryant and Lebron James, racking up 156 points in a single game.  Three point shots were falling like confetti. 

All of these superb athletes have not reached the pinnacle of their respective sports by some miraculous accident.  With fierce dedication, over many years, they achieved greatness.  And yet, there is more to it than spending countless hours working out.  These Olympians have the added benefit of supportive families who sacrificed much to position them for medal-winning.  And then think of the coaches down through the years who have told them what to do, what not to do.  They observed them; they made suggestions;  they encouraged them; they pumped them up; they made persuasive appeals to their athletes to achieve the very best. 

For just a moment this morning, consider yourself an Olympic athlete!  You are at the peak of your game.  You've made it through the semi-finals and the quarter-finals.  And now, within minutes, you're about to begin the event that you've spent a lifetime preparing for.  This is for real; we're playing for keeps; this is it; this is for all the marbles.  Your coach and mentor approaches you and gives you a big hug.  Nothing really needs to be said that hasn't already been said countless times before.  Still, holding your shoulders and looking you straight in the eye, the coach, with a look of happy determination, makes one last persuasive appeal:  "You're the best; go out there and show the world!"

The holy catholic church -- of which First Presbyterian Church in Denton is a part -- is, carrying our analogy through, God's team.  More precisely, we are the body of Christ and individual members of it.  We are not playing for silver or bronze; we are going for the gold.  Borrowing language from the New Testament, we seek to run the race and finish the course.  For we know that a crown of righteousness awaits us.  And this morning, one of the church's great "coaches", if you will, issues a persuasive appeal.  We hear a powerful word of encouragement.  It's as if the Apostle Paul, in his words first penned to the Ephesians, is grabbing us by the shoulders, looking us in the eye, and saying:  "You're the best.  Now go out there and show the world."

This past week, LA Fitness, the local gym where I train, observed its third anniversary.  They had balloons and bunting and such.  Local fitness-related vendors were on hand to peddle their wares.  One booth was set up for a new business called "Kaleo".  The title caught my eye, and, having studied the Biblical languages, I thought:  "That sounds Greek to me."  It was. This local business made green tea smoothies, and I sampled one.  "Kaleo" is a Greek term which means to call, or invite, or to encourage, to make an appeal.  "Kaleo" means to "urge" or even to "beg". 



The Greek word Paul uses is parakaleo.  The "para" bit means "to come alongside" or "to come up next to".  Thus, in language that football players in particular might resonate with, Paul is saying:  "Huddle up!"  "We're going to have a quick team meeting, and I've got something important to say." 

At the time, Paul was in prison.  He couldn't get out there and play the game as he would have preferred, but he was able to shout out a word of encouragement to the team.  It is not a rule; it is not a mandate; it is not a resolution passed by a general assembly;  it is not a motion brought forth by a committee and approved by a majority of ruling elders.  No, it is an appeal, a persuasive appeal.  He says:  "Live a life worthy of the calling you have received."  There will always be those who talk the talk.  "My encouragement to you," Paul seems to be saying, "is to walk the walk! There will always be armchair quarterbacks; there will always be critics and cynics and pessimists and editorialists.  Let them talk the talk.  I want you to walk the walk.  'Live a life worthy of the calling you have received.' Before you speak to me about your religion, first show it to me in how you treat other people. Before you tell me how much you love your God, show me in how much you love all His children.  There is no room for talk of the Lord whom we have not seen without a corresponding concern for the neighbor whom we can see."

All of this starts with our team:  the holy catholic church and our little part of it at First Presbyterian.  Saint Paul continues:  "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.  Keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." 

One of the American Olympians who truly experienced the highest high and the lowest low was a girl named Jordyn Wieber.  In gymnastics, she was expected to participate in the round that would determine the best individual gymnast.  Shockingly, she didn't make it.  I saw the look on her face, and it was pure devastation.  But contrast that look with the tears of joy that flowed after she helped her team win the overall competition. 

In the church, we don't have free agents; we don't have  individual competition.    We are together; we are team.  When one is in sorrow, we all are in sorrow.  When one rejoices, we all rejoice. We all have different gifts and abilities, to be sure.  But all of them were given for the "common good", the Bible says.  There is a kind of political communism which says "What's thine is mine."  Then there is a communism of love which says:  "What's mine is thine."  In other words, we willingly share our unique and individual gifts -- our time, talent, and treasure --for the common good.   As if to hammer home this point, the apostle says:  "There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called ; one Lord, one faith, one baptism;  one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all."  The emphasis here is not on individuals or individualism, but on unity and what we share in common. 

To get us to where we are today, all that we need has been provided by our Lord:  apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, teachers.  They've taught us, coached us, mentored us, and helped to bring us.  They will equip us to serve  -- which is what this life is all about.  And all along the way, as we take the field and play the game, we grow into a deeper and richer maturity.  We learn, the apostle says, "to speak the truth in love."  What is this except what Jesus did?  It's exactly what Jesus did.  It cost Him His life!  But the way of life was vindicated when He rose again from that grave! 

Some folks -- and we've all heard them -- speak the truth.  But they don't speak it in love.  They speak it in a mean-spirited and even bigoted fashion.  Others sound as though they are very loving, but, for whatever reason, they leave out the truth.  They sound loving and reassuring and sweet, but the sweetness is like high fructose corn syrup:  it isn't good for you at all.  The art of Christian life and living is to learn to speak the truth in love.  And what a great truth we have to speak:  that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself and not counting our sins, anyone's sins, against us!

As my namesake, the apostle Paul, encouraged the Ephesians, I, too, want to make a persuasive appeal to you as well.  We're not the biggest church; we're relatively small in number.  There have been problems and pains in this church's history, but that's the case in any church that's trying to be true to God and His Word.  We've had periods of up and periods of down, segments of weal and segments of woe. But all the resources we need have been there, and I've seen you; I've watched you for over two years now, and what a privilege it has been to serve you in a small way.  If every Christian church throughout the entire world could have just one person with the quality of faith and life and commitment to God, to one another, and to the neighbor that I've seen in so many of you, something would happen -- and I'm totally convinced of it. There would be a worldwide renewal in worldwide Christianity.  The message of the gospel, with its truth and love, would crown the world with blessings heretofore unknown.  Huddle up, First Presbyterian Church!  You're the best.  Now, go out there and show the world! 

Amen.

Does This Psalm Have A Seatbelt?

Text:  Psalm 14

Theme:  "Does This Psalm Have A Seatbelt?"

9th Sunday after Pentecost

July 29, 2012

First Presbyterian Church

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

For the director of music. Of David.

¹ The fool^[a] says in his heart,
“There is no God.”
They are corrupt, their deeds are vile;
there is no one who does good.

² The Lord looks down from heaven
on all mankind
to see if there are any who understand,
any who seek God.
³ All have turned away, all have become corrupt;
there is no one who does good,
not even one.

⁴ Do all these evildoers know nothing?

They devour my people as though eating bread;
they never call on the Lord.
⁵ But there they are, overwhelmed with dread,
for God is present in the company of the righteous.
⁶ You evildoers frustrate the plans of the poor,
but the Lord is their refuge.

⁷ Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!
When the Lord restores his people,
let Jacob rejoice and Israel be glad!

Somewhere in the town of Chula Vista, California there lives an 8-year-old boy by the name of Danny Dutton.  As you're about to find out, he took seriously a homework writing assignment which challenged him to explain God.  Here are just a few of the interesting comments he had to make:

One of God's main jobs is making people.  God doesn't make grownups, just babies.  I think because they are smaller and easier to make.  That way He doesn't have to take up his valuable time teaching them to talk and walk.  He can just leave that to mothers and fathers.

God'second most important job is listening to prayers.  God doesn't have time to listen to radio or TV because of this. 

God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere which keeps Him pretty busy.  So you shouldn't go wasting his time by going over your mom and dad's head asking for something they said you couldn't have.

Atheists are people who don't believe in God.  I don't think there are any in Chula Vista.  At least there aren't any who come to our church. 

Don't skip church to do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach.  This is wrong.  And besides the sun doesn't come out at the beach until noon anyway.

If you don't believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can't go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can.  It is good to know He's around you when you're scared, in the dark or when you can't swim and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids.

Danny Dutton's got a lot on the ball, wouldn't you say?  And Danny, it's not just 8-year-olds that feel as though they're being thrown into deep water by big kids.   Life has a way of making us all feel like that from time to time. 

In today's Psalm, Psalm 14, the "big kids" that throw us into "deep water" are described as "fools" and "evildoers".  They are corrupt; they are vile;  they do no good; they do not understand; they do not seek God; they try to frustrate the plans of others. 

The psalm is attributed to King David, and it's very apparent that he is frustrated at the whole state of affairs.  I read a number of Bible commentaries on Psalm 14 in my prep work for this week, and most of them limited themselves to defining terms, placing the psalm in its historical context, and so on and so forth.  All of that is great if you're a professional theologian, but most of us are not.  Most of us live in Realville where the the "big kids", so to speak, throw us into "deep water."  The commentators don't seem to capture the human side of this psalm --and, specifically, the frustration bordering on anger.

David says:  "The fool says in his heart ,'There is no God.'"  Nowadays, if you go running around saying things like that you could get into trouble.  It's not polite, or politically correct, to make judgment calls like that.  It's even worse if Christians do it; it sounds boastful and arrogant and self-righteous.  There are atheists out there in Realville, and it's not good to smack them down and call them fools.  Some of them are, in fact, quite smart. 

We heard from the 8-year-old Danny Dutton.  Now let's hear remarks from some folks in their mature years.  What they have in common is that they are all famous to one degree or another, and they are all atheists.

Start with Samuel Langhorne Clemens -- otherwise known as Mark Twain.  He was one of the great writers in American history.  Think Huckleberry Finn.  In Twain's autobiography, he gave his view of life:

A myriad of men are born; they labor and sweat and struggle for bread; they squabble and scold and fight; they scramble for little mean advantages over each other.

Age creeps upon them and infirmities follow; shames and humiliations bring down their prides and their vanities.

Those they love are taken from them, and the joy of life is turned to aching grief.  The burden of pain, care, and misery, grows heavier year by year.

At length ambition is dead, pride is dead, vanity is dead; longing for release is in their place.

It comes at last -- the only unpoisoned gift earth ever had for them -- and they vanish from a world where they were of no consequence; where they achieved nothing, where they were a mistake and a failure and foolishness; where they left no sign that they ever existed -- a world that will lament them a day and forget them forever.

Bertrand Russell was an Englishman.  He died in 1970 after becoming a world famous mathematician, politician, and philosopher.  He received the Nobel Prize for literature.  In a letter to Lowes Dickinson toward the end of his life, he had this to say:

We stand on the shore of an ocean, crying to the night and the emptiness; sometimes a voice answers out of the darkness.  But it is a voice of one drowning; and in a moment the silence returns.

Another famous Englishman and atheist was W. Somerset Maugham, one of the most popular British writers of the 20th century.  Toward the end of his life, he wrote:

When I look back on my life...it seems to me strangely lacking in reality.  It may be that my heart, having found rest nowhere, had some deep ancestral craving for God and immortality which my reason would have no truck with.

Another Nobel Prize winner was George Bernard Shaw.  His body of work gave us the famous musical "My Fair Lady."  He died in 1950 -- only a few short years after the end of World War II.  In his personal testimony, given toward the end of his life, George Bernard Shaw, an atheist, had this to say:

The science to which I pinned my faith is bankrupt.  Its counsels which should have established the millennium have led directly to the suicide of Europe.  I believe in them once...in their name I helped destroy the faith of millions of worshippers in the temples of a thousand creeds.  And now they look at me and witness the great tragedy of an atheist who has lost his faith.

All of this only serves to illustrate that you don't have to be illiterate or uneducated in order to be a fool.  "The fool has said in his heart, 'There is no God,'" says King David.

Does this psalm have a seatbelt?  It surely needs one, because it takes us on quite a ride.  At the very moment when we start comparing ourselves to atheists, we are tempted to slip into a certain pride.  "We're not fools; we're believers.  We go to church; we worship; we pray." 

But, as we're about to find out, they don't hand out merit badges for that, my friends.  David points us away from ourselves and our comparisons with others, and points to God.  He says:  "The Lord looks down from heaven on the sons of men to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God."  Then, pulling the proverbial rug out from under our feet, says:  "All have turned aside, they have together become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one."  The New Testament echoes this when it says:  "All have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God."

I assure you:  this message is not popular.  It's not "trending" like certain Youtube videos, the London Olympics, Chik-fil-A, or the broken marriage of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. 

Yet, on nearly every Sunday in worship, we confront this truth when we confess our sins in the liturgy.  There, in that Prayer of Confession, whether the words sink in or not, we are being brutally honest with God and ourselves.  We are not playing the blame game -- which is America's favorite indoor sport.  We are not copping a plea and promising to do better.  The fact is, we are 'fessing up!  The old confession of my childhood church is burned into my psyche:  "I, a poor, miserable sinner, confess unto Thee all my sins and iniquities for which I have ever offended Thee and justly deserved Thy temporal and eternal punishment."

Indeed, Psalm 14 pours as huge bucket of ice-cold water on all of our proud piety.  But then, just as quickly, it throws out this little reminder:  "God is present in the company of the righteous."

"But wait," you say, "that can't be right; God can't be with us. We just confessed that we are sinners, that we are unrighteous."  That is true, but it's only part of the story.  If God is with us because we are righteous people, then put a fork in us because we are done.  We're toast.  But if we are righteous people because God is with us and chooses to be with us, then that changes the whole nature of the game. 

This, of course, takes us to the very beating heart of the Gospel.  In Jesus Christ, God is with us.  He went so far as to become one of us.  And, through His death and resurrection, he took the "filthy rags" of our unrighteousness, and, in turn, gave us the royal robe of His righteousness. 

St. Paul put it in very personal terms for all of us:  "Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.  What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things.  I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ -- the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith."

Danny Dutton was right.  Sometimes the world is like a big kid that throws us into real deep water.  But God, in Jesus Christ,  goes in there right along with us.  And that's the good news for today and every day.  Amen.