THANKSGIVING 2013: Thoughts on The Traditional Gospel (St.Luke 17:11-19)

THANKSGIVING 2013:

Thoughts on The Traditional Gospel

(St. Luke 17:11-19)

 

¹¹ Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. ¹² As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy^[b] met him. They stood at a distance ¹³ and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”

¹⁴ When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.

¹⁵ One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. ¹⁶ He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.

¹⁷ Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? ¹⁸ Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” ¹⁹ Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

 

The pitiable lepers would likely take as much mercy (or as little) that they could get.  They were in "community" -- as it is fashionable to say these days.  But that "community", to put it mildly, was kept at a distance from every other place, from anyone else, from any other thing.  Because of their hideous disease, they could no longer be with their loved ones.  No kisses or hugs could be exchanged.  A few little scraps of "mercy"was all they could hope for -- but forget about sitting down to turkey and pumpkin pie.   For them, everything that mattered was "at a distance."

 

But then there came a day when they got more than a scrap.  Essentially, they got their meal ticket punched.  "Go, show yourselves to the priests," said a man who was on His way to Jerusalem.   Taking Him at His Word, they did just that.  On the journey they noticed that all the dirt and disease that characterized their "community" was falling off like so much dead skin.  There was a new spring in the step.  They were cleansed.

 

There was only one more thing to do:  get to the priests (they were basically the "health department") and have the cleansing verified legally.  After that, they could sing "Happy Days are Here Again!"

 

There were ten of them.  After so many years of misery and being ostracized from society, one certainly could forgive them for what we nowadays called a sense of entitlement. After all that pain, they DESERVED this.  Thus, no time was to be wasted in making their healing official.

 

But one of them turned back.  He actually DISOBEYED the command of Jesus, and he all but screamed his gratitude.

 

I'm ashamed, because I know I wouldn't have stopped in my tracks.  Oh, I might have sought Him out later to say thanks  -- "Hey, I really appreciate it, Jesus. Thanks much!" -- after my life was re-established.  But that impulse of immediate gratitude would be drowned out by my sense of entitlement. 

 

Jesus told him to get up and go, and I'm sure He smiled when He said it.  Jesus would head off in His own direction.  He was on His way to Jerusalem.  There, upon the cross , He paid for my sins -- including my penchant for keeping Jesus at a distance, for throwing only "scraps" at the sick and needy, and for that very fashionable sense that I deserve the good things that I purport to be thankful for.

 

In the end, it's all about grace.  And grace, by its very nature, is undeserved.  I'm persuaded that genuine gratitude and thanksgiving is a most humbling experience -- "He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him."

 

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

Thanksgiving Eve

Nov. 27, 2013

And In Conclusion...

 

Text:  Colossians 1:9-20

Theme:  "And in Conclusion..."

Christ the King Sunday

November 24, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

⁹ For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives,^{[e] 10} so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, ¹¹ being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, ¹² and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you^[f] to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. ¹³ For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, ¹⁴ in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

¹⁵ The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. ¹⁶ For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. ¹⁷ He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. ¹⁸ And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. ¹⁹ For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, ²⁰ and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

Rev. Dr. Nagel, a mentor of mine from graduate school days, once said:  "A good beginning calls for a good ending, and a good ending requires a certain done-ness."  How about the church year?  Put a fork in it; it's just about done!  This is the last week in the church year, Christ the King Sunday, and Thursday is Thanksgiving.

 

Have you noticed the countdown to Thanksgiving?  It has gone viral.  Someone writes, for example:  "Day 20:  I'm grateful for this", and "Day 19:  I'm grateful for that", etc.  Well, on this day, among other things,  I'm grateful for our music director, organist, and choir.  Here's one reason why:  the selection of hymns and anthems always fits the Scriptures and theme of the day.  Today is Christ the King Sunday, and so we get the lovely arrangement of "The King of Love My Shepherd Is".  If that weren't enough, our wonderful organist, Hyun-Kyung Lee's prelude (as we prepared our hearts for worship) was "Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme" -- "Awake, calls the Voice to Us" -- by Johann Sebastian Bach. Bach wrote "Wachet auf" not for Christmas, Good Friday, or Easter. He wrote it for this day, for the last Sunday of the church year with its traditional Gospel of the wise and foolish virgins.

 

Whether we are wise or foolish, as the church year and calendar year draw to a close, remains to be seen.    As Peter Steinke has remarked:  "Be a fool for Christ's sake, butnot a damn fool!"  A symptom of foolishness would be for us to uncritically follow the dictates of our American culture as it relates to the holidays.  What does this mean?  It means that we rush frantically into the countdown to Christmas.  On Thursday, be sure to have your Thanksgiving meal early so you can get to the stores when they open at 6:00pm!  For some, Thanksgiving Day is little more than Black Friday Eve! Ramp it up!  Amp it up!  You want "your Christmas" to be perfect, don't you?  That perfectionist streak that, in varying degrees, resides in each one of us, really gets put to the test this time of year.  Then we wonder why.  We wonder why a season of such supreme anticipation becomes a time of such high anxiety. 

 

Foolishness would find us reaching for the Xanax or for anything that will calm us down.  Wisdom, on the other hand, would find us loading up on Jesus.  That's precisely what Paul the apostle did for the Christians in Colossae: he gave them lots of Jesus.  His words cover the bases for the last Sunday of the church year; they cover the bases for Thanksgiving, they cover the bases and for all the days to come. 

 

As the old church ends and a new one begins, it is brought to our attention that we have been rescued. God, says the blessed apostle, has "rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have the forgiveness of sins."  To be rescued like this it to be enlivened; it is to be animated; it is being convinced that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me; it is to treat every day as an adventure as hell itself is put to flight by the holy laugh which comes from Christ's forgiveness; it is breathe easy and to rest in the knowledge that Christ is King and Christ forgives!

 

Some time ago, I sat down for a cheeseburger with some of my golfing buddies.  One is a criminal court judge; another is an economics professor; still another is a retired school principal. We got to talking about government.  One thought we lived in a democracy.  Another replied, "No, we don't; we live in a constitutional republic."  Still another had this to say:  "We are neither of the two.  We are a 'corporate-ocracy'," he said.  "Corporations run everything!"  Sipping on my mango tea, I decided to weigh in.  "We live in a monarchy," I said. They looked at me like I had a hole in the head.  "I don't mean to be a smarty-pants, but we're all Christians here, right?"  They nodded.  "Well, there you go," I said. "Christ is the King! He's the monarch."

 

And He's way more than that!  He is, as our text puts it, the "image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.  For in Him all things were created... .  All things have been created through him and for him."  Think about that when you're at Wal-mart, or Target, or the Mall.  "All things have been created through Him and for Him."  Puts it all into perspective, doesn't it?

 

What a year it has been!  There were lots of things going on, but there was also a lot of Jesus to see us through.  Among so much more, this church year drawing to a close included a Russian meteor strike; the election of a new pope; the Boston Marathon bombing; the explosion in West, Texas, and the Oklahoma tornado.  Diana Nyad swam from Cuba to Florida.  There was the massacre in Egypt and the Kenyan Mall attack.  The Toronto mayor is alleged to have smoked crack.  Of course, Prince William and Kate had a royal baby. 

 

But here at FPC, in our lives lived in the church year, we got a load of Jesus.  And that load of Jesus, that Spirit of Jesus, would not let us sit in the pew.  While the denomination teetered, tottered, and toyed with schism, First Presbyterian Church put on its boots and went to work. So some of our people went to tornado-ravaged Oklahoma; others supported them.  Gifts went to West, Texas. Tangible support was given to war-torn veterans coming home.  A trip to Haiti was undertaken.  Dinners and garage sales and bake sales and prayers sent them on their way.  Numerous service agencies were empowered and strengthened because there is a First Presbyterian Church on West University Drive.  Needy children in Denton Christian Preschool learned that FPC was more, far more, than just a place with classrooms.  There are people here who care and share. 

 

All the while, we worshipped.  We sang.  We made music.  We heard the life-giving Word; we were on the receiving end of the Sacraments; we responded with our prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings. My friends, we made it!

 

Winter storm warning or not, we made it to this day, to Christ the King Sunday!  What a King He is! He didn't reside in some facsimile of Buckingham palace.  He didn't take an oath of office and then march down to the White House.  Instead, He told us  "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head."  There was no bomb-proof, bullet-proof limousine; there was only a donkey.  There was no birthing room in a warm maternity ward, but there was a manger.  There was a throne, but it was not a gilded chair. It was a cross. There was a coronation, but it's crown was made of thorns.  This is the King we get to live with and serve under.  This is the King, in a culture with so much foolishness, who is more than ready to give us more and more wisdom, more than enough oil for our lamps, more faith for the living of these days.

 

Why?  It is because, as our text says, God "was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross."

So, in conclusion, we are at peace.  Soli Deo Gloria!  To God alone the glory!  Amen.

On Cleaning Coffee Pots, Makers, Etc.

Text:  Luke 21:5-19

Theme:  "On Cleaning Coffee Pots, Makers, Etc."

26th Sunday after Pentecost

November 17, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

⁵ Some of his disciples were remarking about how the temple was adorned with beautiful stones and with gifts dedicated to God. But Jesus said, ⁶ “As for what you see here, the time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.”

⁷ “Teacher,” they asked, “when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are about to take place?”

⁸ He replied: “Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am he,’ and, ‘The time is near.’ Do not follow them. ⁹ When you hear of wars and uprisings, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come right away.”

¹⁰ Then he said to them: “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. ¹¹ There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven.

¹² “But before all this, they will seize you and persecute you. They will hand you over to synagogues and put you in prison, and you will be brought before kings and governors, and all on account of my name. ¹³ And so you will bear testimony to me. ¹⁴ But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. ¹⁵ For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. ¹⁶ You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. ¹⁷ Everyone will hate you because of me. ¹⁸ But not a hair of your head will perish. ¹⁹ Stand firm, and you will win life.

 

 

When it comes to what is said from this pulpit on Sunday, what happens on the previous Monday is very important.  It's on Monday that I look at the four readings slated for the coming Sunday.  I read them until one of them jumps out at me, and I usually end up using that as a text for the sermon. Then, during the week, I meditate on the text and I study the text; I take a look at what the commentators have said.  At some point, a theme emerges and I form an outline in my mind.  Then I flesh out that outline.  Occasionally, I stick a humorous anecdote in there, and you respond with muffled laughter.  Then, when I acknowledge that the joke bombed, you burst out with loud guffaws! 

 

But seriously, the task that God has called me to do -- through all of you! -- is always a happy challenge.   I continue to be amazed at the privilege and honor that it is.  I apologize for the many times I have been unclear in the points I'm trying to get across, but I can assure you that I always endeavor to look for God's Word of law that, in the first place, convicts us of our sin, and also for God's Word of Gospel -- that power of God unto salvation -- that announces to us that we are forgiven and dearly loved children.

 

In my attempt this morning to do just that, I'm going to draw on all three readings you have heard.  In today's Scriptures you really have a study in contrast.  First off, in the Old Testament Reading from Isaiah that Dr. Linder read, we are all loaded up with beautiful promises from God.  "Behold, I will create new heavens and a new earth," says the Lord.  "Be glad and rejoice forever in what I will create," God says.  Weeping and crying will be no more. The wolf and the lamb will feed together.  Nothing will harm you and nothing will destroy you. 

 

I'm all in!  My soul and my spirit respond to that and say:  "God, bring it on!  Hurry up!  Make it happen.   I trust these promises you've made, and I'm chomping at the bit for them to come true!  I've seen harm and destruction; I've known weeping and crying. You're telling me that there will come a time when these things won't happen anymore, and, for that, I am grateful.  Give me grace to wait patiently.

 

But now, in today's Gospel, I find that my excitement over these glorious promises is tempered; my anticipation is lessened-- and that's to put it mildly.  The words of Jesus,  recorded in that selection from Luke's gospel, do not make for happy reading.  Before we get to that supremely wonderful new heaven and new earth, the end of the earth we live in now is not going to be a picnic.  Among other things, Jesus said that "the end will not come right away."  Besides that, some are going to try and deceived you.  They're going to engage in what we today call "fear-mongering."  He goes on to say that "Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom.  There will be earthquakes, famines, and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven.  On top of that, Christians are going to suffer for their beliefs. 

 

My friends, I look around at events happening in our world and it becomes pretty clear to me that Jesus wasn't kidding.  So here I am -- here we all are! -- gifted with these tremendous promises of a new heaven and a new earth where there will be no harm and no destruction and no weeping and no tears.  We are told to rejoice and be glad about that.  But just when we're about to sing our "Hallelujah", we hear Jesus talk about nations and kingdoms at war, increasing persecution of God's people, earthquakes, pestilences, portents from heaven. 

 

These readings are like a theological stun gun.  We're joyful; we're afraid.  We're excited;  we're scared. We don't quite know what to think, to feel, or to do.

 

This is the point in my sermon outline where I insert a little story.  It's a true story.  It's an experience that someone had.  I'm not going to mention any names in order to protect anonymity.  After all, there's a good reason why they call it "Alcoholics Anonymous." 

 

A member of AA had enjoyed a few years of continuous sobriety.  Her life had changed completely.  She was sober and serene.  Good things were happening.  She had gotten a sponsor who helped her go through the "12 steps" of Alcoholics Anonymous.  It wasn't easy, but, with help, she had not taken a drink for quite awhile.

 

Then something happened.  Her boyfriend broke up with her.  She never saw it coming, and she was devastated. She was shocked, sorrowful, upset, and enraged.  He had supported her, and she depended on him.  She had supported him too.  Now it was all over, and she seriously considered numbing the pain with alcohol and overlook all those months and years of continuous sobriety.  But she did the right thing, though.  She called her sponsor. She needed to talk to another recovering alcoholic.  The thoughts and feelings were coming out in rapid-fire succession overtthe phone.  She didn't want the sponsor to come to her house, and she didn't want to go to her sponsor's house.  Instead, she felt like she should go to the AA meeting house.  So that's what they did.

 

She arrived at the location, and her sponsor pulled up in her car moments later.  But instead of going inside, her sponsor went behind her car and opened the trunk.  She started getting stuff out.  To begin with, she pulled out a couple of mops.  Then came a basket filled with clean rags.  Finally, she unloaded a box with various and sundry cleaning products. 

 

The lady whose boyfriend broke up with her was confused.  She thought she was going to sit down and talk about her problems with a sympathetic ear.  Her sponsor said, "I know what you're thinking.  We'll talk about the situation, but we're going to do it while cleaning the coffee pots and coffee makers.  Then we're going to wash down the tables, and, finally, we're going to mop the floors. You told me long ago that you would do what I suggested in order to stay sober.  So this is what we're going to do."

 

So the both of them began working and talking.  They talked and worked and worked and talked.  After a couple of hours, the coffee makers and the coffee pots and the tables and the floors were squeaky clean.  When it was all said and done, the recovering alcoholic whose boyfriend broke up with her amazingly felt better.  It was a like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "One more thing I want you to do," said the sponsor.  "People are going to wonder who cleaned all this stuff up. Take a look!  This meeting house never looked better.  What I want you to do is actually to not do something.  I don't want you to say that you cleaned it up.  This will remain anonymous." 

 

What this story illustrates is the encouragement we are given in the reading from 2 Thessalonians that Dr. Linder read.  Paul the apostle wrote to the Christians at Thessalonica and said:  "As for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good."

All of us, in one way or another, have had high hopes in life. When some or even most of them do not materialize on our terms, we are devastated.  In addition, we can, likewise, hear these fantastic promises of a new heaven and a new earth with its promised way of life so wonderful that we can't even find the words to describe it.  But then we learn that, before all that, there are going to be some very tough times. 

 

When supreme joy and anticipation get mixed with fear and trepidation, it can stun a person; it can stun a congregation. It can pull a life and a church's life out of gear and into neutral. It can put on the brakes when God would have us on the go! When the Scriptures give us both high joy and painful honesty as they do today, when life does the same thing as it will again, remember what that AA sponsor did.  She got out the cleaning products. Remember the encouragement of St. Paul:  "Never tire of doing what is good." 

 

Thanks be to God -- who gives us promises of great joy.  Thanks be to God -- who gives us honesty, even it's painful.  Thanks be to God -- who, through the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ, has saved us. Thanks be to God -- who encourages us to never tire of doing what is good.  The recovering alcoholic actually felt better. You and I can too.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

 

 

A Visit to the Eschatologist

Text:  Haggai 1:15b-2:9

Theme:  "A Visit to the Eschatologist!"

25th Sunday after Pentecost

November 10, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

 

In the second year of King Darius, ¹ on the twenty-first day of the seventh month, the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai: ² “Speak to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, to Joshua son of Jozadak,^[a] the high priest, and to the remnant of the people. Ask them, ³ ‘Who of you is left who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Does it not seem to you like nothing? ⁴ But now be strong, Zerubbabel,’ declares the Lord. ‘Be strong, Joshua son of Jozadak, the high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land,’ declares the Lord, ‘and work. For I am with you,’ declares the Lord Almighty. ⁵ ‘This is what I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt. And my Spirit remains among you. Do not fear.’

⁶ “This is what the Lord Almighty says: ‘In a little while I will once more shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. ⁷ I will shake all nations, and what is desired by all nations will come, and I will fill this house with glory,’ says the Lord Almighty. ⁸ ‘The silver is mine and the gold is mine,’ declares the Lord Almighty. ⁹ ‘The glory of this present house will be greater than the glory of the former house,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘And in this place I will grant peace,’ declares the Lord Almighty.”

Before I begin this morning, I wish to extend a word of gratitude to the members of this congregation and to a growing number of friends in faith who worship with us regularly.  Although we are a small congregation and we still face uncertain economic times, our financial gifts are a tremendous blessing.  During this harvest and stewardship season in the church, I want to assure you that our Administration and Finance Committee -- along with our session -- continue to  honor your offerings  and endeavor to use them wisely.  When I go to my favorite barbeque restaurant, I have a choice between "lean brisket" and "moist brisket".  "Moist brisket" has more fat.  "Lean brisket" has less fat.  If our church budget can be compared to brisket, it is most definitely "lean brisket".  There is no fat, if you will.  While we do have a mortgage payment, your gifts have kept us on track to pay that off.  In other areas, you provide for your staff here; you keep the lights on, the heat on in the winter, and the air-conditioning on in the summer.  And, not surprisingly, you give generously to mission and ministry causes above and beyond the operating budget.  Think of the mission trip to Haiti, and, closer to home, the trip to Moore, Oklahoma.  Our age and youth made a big difference, and all of us -- young, old, or in-between -- step up to the plate with good cheer. These are very positive signs for our little group -- even as many larger congregations are collectively scratching their heads and twiddling their thumbs.  Finally, along with the consistent generosity of our membership, I also wish to acknowledge our visitors and guests -- our growing number of  "friends in faith" -- who have sensed something good in our mission and ministry and have felt led to support it.  Thanks to them, and to God alone the glory!

 

Now, on to something different.  Y'all ready for Christmas?  It just blows me away that we are headlong into the proverbial holiday season.   I saw a picture out and about which showed the Thanksgiving turkey talking to Santa Claus.  The turkey was mad because Santa was getting all the attention.  "November is my month," said the turkey to Santa, "and December is yours!"

 

Fortunately, our church year and our lectionary (the "lectionary" is the set or readings appointed for any given Sunday) won't let us get too far ahead of ourselves.  Things will go better.  Take a big breath, slowly exhale through the mouth, and stay with the Word of God as it guides us through our days -- and even our holiday seasons.

 

We've got two Sundays left in the current church year -- today and next week.  What does this mean? It means that the Scriptures, as the church year draws to a close, direct our attention to the future.  As a general rule, I like to stay in the present.  If I spend too much time thinking about the past, I'll get into thinking about what I "woulda, coulda, or shoulda"done.  People second-guess themselves all the time when they look to the past.  "Well, I woulda done this, but I didn't.  I coulda done that, but I didn't think of it. I shoulda done this, but I didn't bother."  Then we look to the future -- and, at times, we wig out with worry almost to the point where we create our problems and choreograph our own drama.  I remember that great quote from Mark Twain:  "In my life, I've had many problems; most of them haven't happened."  So, as a general rule, it's best to stay in the present.  Even Jesus said as much.  Each day has trouble enough of its own.  Why worry about tomorrow?

 

But nevertheless, on occasion, the Scriptures do invite us to ponder the future.  We acknowledge this when we affirm, with the Apostles' Creed, that Jesus will "come again to judge the living and the dead."  That hasn't happened yet; that is still in the future. 

 

Down through the course of days, all kinds of people have pondered the end of the world, the end of time as we know it, the cataclysmic event to end them all, the apocalypse.  All kinds of grisly scenarios have been sketched (a World War III, a nuclear holocaust, and so on) and theories about dates and times have been going on for years.   There is even a genre in literary circles and entertainment that is called "post-apocalyptic." 

 

Even the church has spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the future.  Some say that there will be one thousand years (a millennium) of increasing good times, and then Christ will come back.  Others say that there will be one thousand years of increasingly worse times, and then Christ will return. Still others think that divine history is divided into segments the theologians call "dispensations".  Thus, you get "dispensational millennialists".

 

You know, when you go to your doctor, it's usually a general practitioner, right?  But there are times when a general practitioner refers a patient to a specialist.  Some doctors are called oncologists; others are called dermatologists;  still others are called neurologists -- and there are many more. 

 

In the general field of Christian theology,  which is the study of the Bible, there is a specialty field called "eschatology".  It comes from the Greek term, eskatos, that refers to the last things, the final things. In short, it's about the future.

 

I noticed in today's Old Testament reading that God Himself is something of an eschatologist.  God is making a statement about the future -- and, in fact, it's about the ultimate and final end.

 

In order to point  people to the future which they cannot see, God has them look back to the past and jogs their memory.  God reminds of something that they could picture in their minds' eye:  that beautiful and glorious temple in Jerusalem.  How magnificent it was in what we might call the good old days.  But now it is in ruins.  God says:  " Who of you is left who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Does it not seem to you like nothing?"  If they were honest with themselves, they'd all, with one voice, have to say yes.  "Yes, it does look like nothing; we brought it upon ourselves.  We were unfaithful to you.  The temple is in ruins, and we see on the outside, in the present, a mirror of what is on the inside.  God, we are in ruins.  Is this it?  Is this where the road ends?"

 

Before the spiritual leaders, the civic leaders, and the remnant of folks that were left could give voice to their thoughts, God speaks up.  Three times God says:  "Be strong" (or "be courageous").  Be strong and courageous because "in a little while" that mound of ruins you see will be rebuilt -- and it will be far more glorious than you could ever imagine. "The glory of this house will far surpass the glory of the former." If that's how it will be on the outside, imagine what it will be for you on the inside!  "This is the covenant," says God. "I am among you.  Be not afraid."

 

There are your takeaways for the future, my friends, from God, the eschatologist. When you look ahead:  be full of courage; God is with you; do not be afraid.  That works for the holiday season that sprawls before us; that works for every single day: be full of courage; God is with you; do not be afraid.

 

A wise individual (I can't remember who) once offered up a tremendous working definition of courage:  "What is courage?  It's nothing but fear that has said it's prayers."

 

The One who will come again to judge the living and the dead is also the One who was put to death for our sins and raised again for our justification.  In Jesus Christ, our future is ultimately secure.  We have a clean bill of health from the divine eschatologist.  So be of courage; do  not be afraid; God is with you.

 

Amen.

 

 

Reflections on The Lord's Day Service

 

Text:  Luke 19:1-10

Theme: "Reflections on The Lord's Day Service"

24th Sunday after Pentecost

All Saints Sunday

November 3, 2013

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

 

+In the Name of Jesus+

Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. ² A man was there by the name of Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was wealthy. ³ He wanted to see who Jesus was, but because he was short he could not see over the crowd. ⁴ So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore-fig tree to see him, since Jesus was coming that way.

⁵ When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” ⁶ So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.

⁷ All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.”

⁸ But Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

⁹ Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. ¹⁰ For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

Come to think of it, every Sunday is All Saints Sunday.  In the Apostles' Creed,  nearly every Sunday we confess our belief in the "communion of saints".  In celebrating the Lord's Supper every first Sunday of the month and even more, we praise God, as the ancient liturgy states, "with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven." 

 

You have a listing in your service folder today.  The people named are those who are no longer with us in the life we lead here.  We miss them.  We remember them.  With their passing, there is a certain disconnect with them now.  But not in Lord's Day worship, for we are given to believe in the "communion of saints". We praise God "with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven."  Heaven and earth aren't so far away from each other at all.  The writer to the Hebrews says that we are "surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses."  Ponder that!

 

Pop culture isn't pondering that; pop culture, these days, seems to be obsessed with zombies.  Our Lord doesn't have zombies; the Lord has saints. Some, like you and I, are in what has traditionally been called the "church militant".  It is "militant" because, here on terra firma, we still have our battles with forces of evil, the world, and our own sinful flesh.  Those we name today are no longer in the "church militant"; our risen Lord has brought them safely to the "church triumphant." Their strife , their militancy, is over; their battles are done.  Their baptisms are complete in death.  Their lives have come full circle.  Is it any wonder that we sing:

 

O blest communion, fellowship divine!

We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;

Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.  Alleluia!

 

There is one activity that the "church militant" has in common with the "church triumphant", and that is worship.  We worship God with our hymns, our songs, our exclamations of praise, and our prayers.  When you have a moment some day, page through the book of Revelation. It won't bite.   Better yet, search it like Sherlock Holmes.  Pinpoint the parts that have to do with worship.  Look at the words the saints use and the praises that they bring!  You may be surprised.  Soon you will discover that in Lord's Day worship, we are rehearsing for heaven!  Quite obviously, Lords Day worship is far more than Sunday morning entertainment -- with Bible verses and moral exhortation thrown in as cosmetic.   It is more than getting our "felt needs" met.  It is more than having institutional grade Presbyterian coffee and chit-chat about weather, sports, or politics.  Lord's Day worship is truly a smidge of heaven on earth. If saints in the "church militant" truly grasped this, there wouldn't be an empty seat.  There would be no struggles to find communion servers--or worship leaders, greeters, choir members,etc.  No one would see themselves as "having to" go to church. Instead, they would look forward to it; they would see themselves as "getting to" go to church.

 

In today's Old Testament passage that Becky read, Habakkuk knows all about the various battles of the church militant.  He cries out:  "Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds."  Habakkuk could just as well have been pondering the recent news from Los Angeles International Airport where a TSA employee was shot and killed."   Habakkuk doesn't grovel; he doesn't crawl into a corner only to twiddle his thumbs and say "Woe is me and woe is the world".  Instead, he declares:  "I will stand at my watch and station myself on the ramparts.  I will look to see what the Lord will say to me."  My friends, Lord's Day worship IS your watch. When we gather here, we, like Habakkuk, "station" ourselves "on the ramparts."  We are here to see what the Lord will say through the reading and the proclamation of the Word.

 

In this morning's New Testament reading, we hear St. Paul marvel at the faith and love of the Thessalonian Christian congregation.  He singles out no one person.  He addresses them as a church, as a communion, as brothers and sisters.  He is grateful that their faith is growing and their love for one another is increasing.  That only happened because they were fed; they were fed with lots of the Lord's words, with the precious and life-giving Gospel, and the blessed holy communion.  We can "exercise" our faith and love all we want, but eventually we're going to have to eat; we need fuel. The Word and Sacrament are our food, our fuel, our nourishment so that faith and love might grow.  "I am the bread of life," says Jesus.

 

Speaking of Jesus, in today's Gospel we catch up with Him heading into a town called Jericho.  Meanwhile, we are told of a man who really wanted to see what all this fuss about Jesus was all about.   We learn that he was one of those nasty tax collectors.  In addition, he was short of stature.  In other words, he was a little guy.  Not wanting to strain his neck trying to look over the heads of others, he gets an idea.  He climbs a tree to obtain the proverbial "bird's eye" view.   He could hide up there, and he could see it all.

 

That's a vantage point that many modern Zacchaeus's are looking for. They want a viewpoint about the church which is the body of Christ, but that's about all. They are curious -- they are what have been called "seekers"-- and want to know what it's all about, but not much more than that.  They want to see it all; they want to know what's going on, but they wish to be hidden from view.

 

Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he;

He climbed up into a Sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see!

 

That's a lovely little song I learned in Vacation Bible School all those years ago.  But actually, it wasn't so much that Zacchaeus wanted to see the Lord.   Rather, it was that the Lord wanted to see Zacchaeus.

 

Jesus says:  "Zacchaeus, come down immediately.  I must stay at your house today."  Little Zacchaeus shinnied back down that tree and welcomed Jesus "gladly", says Luke.

 

At that point, some folks in the crowd started trash-talking Jesus.  "He has gone to be the guest of a sinner," they mutter.  But, overwhelmed with gladness that Jesus is His guest, Zacchaeus announces the changes he is about to make in his life.  Taking it all in, Jesus says some of His happiest words:  "Today salvation has come to this house, for the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost."

 

My friends, this is what Lord's Day worship is:  the Spirit of our crucified and risen Lord -- through the Gospel and the blessed sacraments -- comes to our house at First Presbyterian.  Left to ourselves, we are only the sinners that the self-righteous crowd mutters about.  They always have; they always will. But the good news of the Gospel is that we have not been left to ourselves -- no matter what kind of Sycamore tree we find ourselves in.

 

When Jesus comes as guest to our house, he prepare us to live in His -- with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven (the saints).  Time to climb down the tree! 

 

I  have shared these reflections on worship with you in the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.