The 6th Sunday of Easter (05/17/09)

Text: Psalm 98:1-9
Theme: “Christ on the Rainbow”
6th Sunday of Easter
May 17, 2009
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

On July 10th of this year, many Christians worldwide will mark the five hundredth birthday of John Calvin, one of the great sixteenth century reformers. Those who hold as their own the teachings of Calvin (drawn most notably from his Institutes) are, at times, called Calvinists, and their theological point of reference is Calvinism. Similarly, those who hold as their own the teachings of Martin Luther are, at times, called Lutherans, and their theological point of reference is Lutheranism. Personally, I came from the Lutheran tradition, but now I find myself in the Presbyterian tradition. I guess that makes me a Lutheryterian!

What about Jesus? Was He a Calvinist or a Lutheran? If you think Jesus was big on the sovereignty of God, then you might say that Jesus was more Calvinist. If, on the other hand, the grace of God is where it’s at with you, then Jesus was more of a Lutheran. It’s a matter of emphasis. But what about everyone else in the holy catholic church that might not be Calvinist or Lutheran? What of the Episcopalians, the Baptists, the Methodists, and the Mennonites and so on? What about those who follow astrology and keep an eye on the horoscope? Well, Jesus would be a Capricorn to them!

The point is that we can make Jesus out to be just about anyone we want Him to be, what we prefer Him to be. Personal preferences are very much in vogue. Everyone wants to have a say – a choice! – in the matter. There is much talk, these days, of spirituality. At the moment, “wellness” is, arguably, the most popular term. “Jesus did do a few miracles and healed some folks. You see, He’s into wellness too!”

But Jesus is not one among many options. He is not spiritual silly putty that we can mold or shape. Jesus is not a game we play on Sunday mornings with coffee before and brunch afterwards.

If anyone knew that, it was John Calvin and Martin Luther. They threw their lives into the God questions. They were both on board for The Apostle’s Creed, and they confessed it just as we do: “He ascended into heaven and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty.” That references the Ascension of our Lord that we celebrate this coming Thursday. The next sentence of the Creed goes like this: “From thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.” The “born of the virgin Mary” part is all well and good, but nowadays we’re not too keen on this matter of Him coming back again to be a judge.

John Calvin spent his productive years in Geneva. Martin Luther was in Wittenburg, Germany. Luther’s study was adjacent to the Castle Church. He once commented on what he saw when he walked from his study to the sanctuary for worship. There was this image of a rainbow chiseled into the granite wall. And seated on top of the rainbow was the cosmic Christ, the Pantocrator, the ruler of the universe, enthroned in judgment. The thought of standing before such a judge as that terrified Luther.

Has anyone seen a rainbow yet this year? I haven’t. But last year I did take a picture of a rainbow that looked as though it ended at our house, but there was no pot of gold! I also remember golfing out at Tour 18 last spring. The afternoon was filled with sunshine. The big sky of Texas was a sight to behold. But off in the distance, there were gathering storm clouds. They came closer as we played our game. All of a sudden the temperature dropped and the wind whipped up. But the sun was still shining. Seventy five percent of the sky was bright sunshine. But twenty five percent was a massive, dark storm. We pulled alongside a putting green and stepped out of our carts. Moments later, the skies opened and the rain came down fast and furious and in mighty drops. But the sun was still shining. It was weird – almost mystical. I thought, “There’s going to be a rainbow and maybe even a double rainbow.” And sure enough, it happened. It was incredible.

In our day, we have all recognized the power of the weather. Programs are interrupted with word of thunderstorm watches or tornado warnings. David Finfrock at StormCenter 5 keeps us informed. The weather, and the results of bad weather, can be a fearful and even tragic thing.

But for Luther, an angry mother nature was nothing compared to the prospect of standing coram Deo (before the face of God). A little thunderstorm on a humid summer night was a trifle compared to the future reality of standing accused before the judge, before the cosmic Christ seated on the rainbow!

It is easy to shrug this off by saying, “Well, Luther and Calvin we’re just coming out of the middle age with all its medieval art, and people were so much more superstitious then. We live in a more enlightened era of scientific progress. It’s a waste of time to dwell on such fables and myths of yesteryear.”

But somewhere, deep down in our bones, we know that we are accountable. C.S. Lewis and others called it the “natural law.” As much as we try to shake it off, we know we are answerable to someone. As much as we might try to deny it, there is no moral free agency!

But then there comes a word that we are not familiar with deep down in our bones. It is a word that comes to us from the outside. It is a word that we never would have thought of. It is the word that prompts what the psalmist has called the “new song.” O sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. His right hand and his holy arm have gotten him the victory. The Lord has made known his victory; he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations.

What is the victory? It is the victory of the Gospel, the victory of unconquerable life. It is the news that the One who will surely be your judge all the more surely loves you! You are worth Him going to the cross. He paid the debt we could never repay. And, in the place of a dreadful and terrifying judgment, we are clothed in God’s righteousness; our sins are washed away; in a world where the mortality rate holds steady at 100%, we have the promise that, because of Christ, we too shall rise!

And we can forgive the psalmist for getting carried away! A joyful noise is called for. Songs and praises are directed to break forth. Throw in some musical instruments. And don’t stop there.

Let the sea roar, and all that fills it, cries the psalmist. Have you ever heard the sea roar? Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills sing together for joy at the presence of the Lord. Have you watched floods clap their hands? Has the singing of the hills greeted your ears? The imagery is breathtaking!

All of it is called for because the Lord is coming to judge the earth. The psalmist concludes: He will judge the earth with righteousness, and the peoples with equity.

When Luther realized that the Christ on the rainbow, the Lord enthroned in judgment was, first, his crucified and risen Redeemer, Savior, and Friend, the image chiseled into the granite no longer frightened him.
When the Lord does return to judge, that judgment will only make it perfectly clear how it is with us now; for we are God’s dearly loved children. And that calls for a new song, for a joyful noise, for enjoying one another’s company at church picnics, for rejoicing in all the gift God gave through Calvin, for marveling at the next rainbow we see, and for living all our days in the happy confidence that nothing shall separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.