Friday, April 19, 2019

The Seven Last Words of Christ


Through the Season of Lent our congregation has travelled a journey through the everyday wilderness, looking for the life of God’s Spirit. We end our journey this morning at the cross. The stones we have carried and used in various symbols are gathered now at the base of the cross, a symbol of our journey, and a symbol of our lives. Remember these stones: They are us, gathered as God’s people. Now they are at the foot of the cross, bound together by the death of Christ. We are gathered together at the cross, remembering the one whose death brings us life, and we are gathered together each one ready to take up our own cross and follow Jesus throughout our lives and into Eternity.

The seven last words of Christ are a harmonised set of sayings, which Jesus spoke on the cross as recorded in the four gospels. Howard Charles (my NT professor at AMBS) has observed that the gospel accounts are essentially extended passion narratives. Each gospel is structured with the crucifixion story as its climax. Indeed, the Passion of Christ is the gospel, so that as we hear the story of the cross again, the gospel itself is shaping and reforming our lives.

There are a variety of ways that we can consider the seven last words. We can look through them at the work of Christ on the cross. Sometimes we use images of what we call atonement – Christ’s victory over sin and death on the cross; Christ bearing all human sin and its consequences on the cross; Christ bringing us life by entering our death. These images (and others) take us deep into the mystery of salvation.

Another way is to see the seven last words as the flow of our own lives – from our entrance into life in Christ to the relationships we experience as members of God’s family and as creatures on this earth to the alienation and physical distress we experience as human relationships fail us to the final triumph of God’s work in our lives and our reunion with God in Eternity.

This progression asks how we experience the cross ourselves, and how Christ identifies with us in our own lives. It is important to remember that this individual emphasis is directed towards the community of God’s people. The cross ushers in God’s Reign in this world, an all-encompassing reality that includes the structures and powers of our lives. We respond as individuals, but we live in community. Therefore, we close this morning’s service with communion, in which we both remember Christ’s death, and we also commit ourselves to Christ and to each other. We take communion together, eating the bread and drinking the cup as the community formed by Christ’s sacrifice. We are the body of Christ. We eat the body of Christ in the dramatic metaphor of communion, and we become the Body of Christ as God works within all of us together. As we hear the seven last words, remember the body of Christ as a whole, which lives in this world for the sake of the world as God’s representatives and as a foretaste of Heaven.

The first set of readings covers forgiveness, salvation, and relationship. The second set covers the realities of life as we experience it. The third set describes the end of our lives, as we follow in the way of Christ. Taken together they show us our own lives in the light of the cross.

The Seven Last Words of Christ
Read by representatives of the congregation, which is the body of Christ
1) Forgiveness: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”     Luke 23:34
2) Salvation: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”  Luke 23:43
3) Relationship: “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.”       John 19:26–27
4) Abandonment: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”            Mark 15:34
5) Distress: “I thirst.”                                                                                      John 19:28
6) Triumph: “It is finished.”                                                                           John 19:30
7) Reunion: “Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit.”                              Luke 23:46

Conversion
The first word is spoken about the crowd, and the second word is spoken to the thief on the cross. Together they show forgiveness, and repentance, and salvation. We may think that we are not nearly so bad as the thief or the people calling for Jesus’ death, but in fact we are much alike. They were self-centred and careless of what they were doing. We also tend to be self-centred. We hurt each other, defending our own ideas, defending ourselves. As the thief says, we deserve to die for all that we have done in this world. Christ’s words remind us that this self-centredness is not terminal. We can change. We can give up control of our lives, and when we do, we receive the life of Christ and the assurance of Christ’s presence in our lives in life and in death.

The third word – Jesus’ provision for his mother as he died – reminds us that this step into discipleship is a step into a radical caring for each other. We give ourselves to love, whatever our life situation. I think of the example of Joy Davidman, a Jewish atheist from New York City. She married a man named Bill Gresham, who turned out to be alcoholic and given to bouts of deep depression. One day in Spring 1946 he did not return from work, leaving Joy and their two sons at home. He called her on the phone, saying that he didn’t know how to cope and that he wasn’t coming home. He was gone for several days, and in her distress, Joy found God. (Or rather, God found Joy.)

Here is how her biographer describes it:
In her words, she was all alone with her fears and the quiet. She recalled later that “for the first time my pride was forced to admit that I was not, after all, ‘the master of my fate’. … All my defenses – all the walls of arrogance and cocksureness and self-love behind which I had hid from God – went down momentarily – and God came in.” She went on to describe her perception of the mystical encounter this way:
It is infinite, unique; there are no words, there are no comparisons. … Those who have known God will understand me. … There was a Person with me in that room, directly present to my consciousness – a Person so real that all my previous life was by comparison a mere shadow play. And I myself was more alive than I had ever been; it was like waking from sleep. So intense a life cannot be endured long by flesh and blood; we must ordinarily take our life watered down, diluted as it were, by time and space and matter. My perception of God lasted perhaps half a minute.
Her biographer continues, “During this intensely spiritual episode Joy was stunned to find herself on her knees …: ‘I must say, I was the world’s most surprised atheist.’ To her astonishment, the former ardent materialist not only knew that God was there, but that He ‘had always been there’ and that He loved her.”

All our experiences are different – from growing up in a Christian home and knowing God all our lives to meeting God in the depths of despair and turning from a life of rebellion to life in Christ. All our experiences are also the same – an encounter with Jesus, the Son of God. Jesus on the cross meets us, wherever we are, and Jesus gives to us also the path of the cross. In the words of Friday’s prayer in the Anglican Church:
Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. Amen.

Life in the Way of Christ
So we enter into life in the way of Christ. Then we hear the fourth and fifth words: words of Abandonment: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” and words of Distress: “I thirst.” Conversion, entering life in the way of Christ, does not mean that we avoid the troubles of this world. I know that the Prosperity Gospel says that faith leads to prosperity, but Jesus said that we take up our cross and follow him. What Jesus tells us is true.

How many times have you known a faithful follower of Christ who feels abandoned? Often. I think of a good Mennonite brother whose daughter is dying of cancer. He asks, “I have served God all of my life. Why does this happen to my daughter?” “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?”

Jesus adds, “I thirst.” A simple statement, which leads into unplumbed depths. How can one who calls himself “the water of life” thirst? How can the eternal Son of God, who is one with the Father, experience separation from the eternal God? How can God be abandoned by God? These matters are too deep for us to unravel; we can only state them and thank God that they are true.

As the writer of Hebrews puts it (Hebrews 2: 14-18):
Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death – that is, the devil – and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

Jesus walked where we walk and lived where we live. Whatever pain or distress you bring into the church building this morning, Jesus also feels it and carries your burden for you. Jesus pleads with God the Father on your behalf and on mine for mercy and grace and strength.

End of Life
We come to the end of Jesus’ life on earth, and we discover what happens in death. I am old enough now to think about dying. I know that one day, sooner or later, I will stop breathing. My body will lie on a bed somewhere, lifeless. Many of us have walked through life with a loved one, until that person stops breathing. We hold our funerals and commit our loved ones to God.

What about ourselves? What about you? What about me? What happens when we die? Jesus came to the end and said two things: One was a word of triumph – “It is finished”, and one was a word of reunion: “Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit.”

The triumph lay in doing what God called him to do. Sometimes we talk about leaving a legacy. We want people to remember us. We wonder, “What can I do that will stand above the rest?” Jesus offers only one path, the path of faithfulness. When he said, “It is finished”, he meant, “I did what I was sent to do.” We want to be impressive or memorable; Jesus calls us to be faithful. We want to be known for wit or friendliness or success. Jesus calls us to be faithful.

Faithfulness is not flashy or popular. It may mean staying with something we don’t want to do. At its centre, it means that we look to God for direction – individually and corporately – and we follow. Not that we succeed, but that we follow. Not that we impress others, but that we do what God asks. Day in and day out. At the end, we too can say, “It’s done. It’s over. I did what I was asked to do. I followed Christ whether I understood or not. I stood with God’s people, whether I understood or not. This life is finished, and it is good.” Faithfulness to God makes life good.

Faithfulness also leads to reunion with God. You remember the funeral for our loved former pastor. You remember the picture he wanted there – the picture of the father welcoming the “prodigal son” (as we call him) home. Jesus welcomes us home. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” When we give ourselves to God, we are home with God.

I love the description of General William Booth entering into heaven, beginning with the words:
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum …
And then describing his parade around heaven. Finally, the poem brings Booth to Jesus:
And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer/ He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air./ Christ came gently with a robe and crown/ For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down./ He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,/ And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place./ Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?

Conclusion
Jesus died for us and for our salvation. More, Jesus showed us the path to walk in our own lives – from conversion or commitment to walk with him, through all the joys and troubles of our lives, to the very end, when we also can say, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” We take up our cross and follow Jesus to the very end, when we find complete and perfect union with God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

May it be so. Amen.


2019 Good Friday

Steinbach Mennonite Church

Sunday, April 07, 2019

Lent Five: Through Fire and Water


Our theme today is “perseverance” – finding hope and joy in the obstacles of life. We take the 40 days of Lent (plus the six feast days), remembering the dangers of temptation and fasting, which creates in us an awareness of God’s protection and safety.

The last time I preached, I recalled the experience of getting lost in the woods. Today, I go a year further back. May 29, 1968. We had just finished our last exam of my freshman year, and I and my friend Dale went canoeing on the creek that flows through Messiah College. I could tell the full story of our trip down the creek, but a brief resume is enough – tipping the canoe, my holding on to the canoe while Dale ran along the road to the next bridge, and finally two men who were fishing at a spot a half hour downstream from where we tipped. The fishers came in and became fishers of men (or at least, one young man, me).

I don’t swim, and I still don’t know how I did not drown. Dale thought he would be carrying the news of my death to my parents, and he wondered what he would tell them. Instead, God preserved me, and Dale and I walked back to the campus from the place of my rescue. We thought that I was in terminal danger, and in fact I was completely safe and secure, even in the waters. Join me this morning in exploring the dangers we live with, which point us to our ultimate safety, resting in God’s care.

Texts
Isaiah 43
We turn to the prophet Isaiah. Chapters 40 to 45 function to give Israel in exile hope for the future. Chapter 43 begins with a reminder of the way that God preserved the Children of Israel in the exodus (verses 2 and 3): “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

The prophet then looks ahead to the salvation of all God’s People at the end of time (verses 3-7): I will bring your children from the east and from the west. I will say to the north and to the south, “Give them back!” “Bring my sons from afar, and my daughters from the ends of the earth.” This salvation is prefigured in the return of God’s People from exile in Babylon.

Verses 8 to 13 picture this salvation graphically as something that no one could have foretold. God’s salvation demonstrates the reality of God, and the Children of Israel are witnesses to both the salvation and reality of God. These verses are the background to Jesus’ words in Acts 1:8, “When the Holy Spirit comes on you, you will be my witnesses.”

Then come the verses we read:
·         Verses 16 and 17 recall the passage through the Red Sea. God fought for the Children of Israel, setting them free from the Egyptian Army, the most powerful of its day. God would also set them free from the Babylonians.
·         This salvation would be something new – not just a replay of the Exodus. God is ready to make everything new and to bring life to the desert (verses 18 and 19).
·         All creation will praise God, with God’s people, as they see what God’s mighty saving action.

From this passage, anticipating God’s salvation for God’s people bound in exile in Babylon, we turn to Paul’s words in Philippians 3.

Philippians 3: 1b-14
We read chapter 2 often in this church, with Paul’s call to humility, imitating the example of Jesus. We read chapter 3 less often. Paul starts the chapter with “further”, which signals a repetition of Paul’s concern that the Philippians know God’s joy: “Rejoice in the Lord!” Then Paul restates his opposition to those who make circumcision necessary for salvation, using the kind of language that I do not want to repeat from the pulpit. His strong language leads to a redefinition of circumcision as a spiritual act of worshipping God fully.

Paul objects so strongly to circumcision as a path to salvation because it relies on human efforts to fix our problems – what Paul calls “relying on the flesh”. In the verses we read, Paul observes that he had many human reasons to feel confident in God’s presence (verses 4 to 6). Paul was a good Pharisee – from his own physical circumcision, to his membership in the People of God, to his personal efforts to keep the Law of God fully.

Verses 7 to 11 contrast a complete reliance on God with this human effort. Our own efforts are garbage (verse 8) compared with God’s work in Christ. In Christ, God gives us righteousness. In Christ, God gives us faith. In Christ, God gives us the “fellowship of sharing in his sufferings”, which in turn leads to sharing in the power of his resurrection.

Verses 12 to 14 close this section with Paul’s resolution to hold on to Christ and to hold on to God’s salvation. (That’s our theme of perseverance!) Holding on to Christ, he – and we – can forget the failures of the past and press on towards the goodness and joy God has for us, living with God in eternity.

Our Stones
We bring these two passages together into a basic lesson for today. Our health and salvation rest in God’s gracious love and care. We can do nothing to save ourselves; God in Christ does all that can be done. When I was floating down the Minnemingo Creek, hanging on to a canoe, I needed help. Without the man who came in and took me to the shore, I would have died. Without God’s love and care, we die.

We see this truth in Paul’s words. He states clearly that we cannot save ourselves in this life. We can do a lot, but we cannot live the way God wants us to live, or reach the end of our lives safely, or go to Heaven when we die unless God works within us.

We see this truth in the Children of Israel’s experience – recalled by the prophet in Isaiah 43. Trapped between the sea and the Egyptian army, they were dead unless God saved them. Isaiah used the memory of that experience to help them see that, trapped in exile in Babylon, they were dead, unless God saved them. Further, he made it clear that God would save them.

Their experience is a type of what God always does in our lives. We cannot survive the attacks of people around us, unless God helps us. We cannot survive the terrors of illness and death, unless God helps us. We cannot deal with being cut off and isolated, unless God helps us.

We can turn also to the events of our world. We cannot end the abuse of marginalized peoples in our world, unless God helps us. We cannot deal with the problems of climate change, unless God helps us. We cannot end poverty in our community, unless God helps us. We cannot heal the wounds of political and religious extremism, unless God helps us.

None of this means that we leave salvation to God in the sense that we do not take the action we are called to take. The Children of Israel fled to the Sea before God acted to save them. Paul pursued God’s righteousness (although obedience to the Law could not provide it) both before and after God made him righteous (by grace through faith). We know what God wants us to do, and we do it.

In spite of our best efforts, however, our efforts often fail. We try to mend relationships with a friend, and our efforts go awry. I remember a close friend who broke our relationship about nine years ago. He thought I was to blame for something that was not my fault and was so hurt that he broke off all communication. I made several efforts to meet and restore our relationship, without success. Our efforts – whatever they are – often fail. God does not always step in and fix the problem.

Then what happens? Our passages turn us to God. God pours out God’s Spirit in our lives and brings healing and new life, even if the actual problem that overwhelmed us remains. We turn to God in our distress, and there we find safety and wholeness.

It’s time for this morning’s symbolic act. The stones have been built into an altar to God. We seek God’s presence in our lives, which come together as an altar symbolizing our commitment to be the place where God’s Spirit falls and to be the people on whom God’s Spirit falls.
[Walk down to the altar carrying a vessel of olive oil. Pour the oil into the altar as a symbol of God’s renewing Spirit.]

Another Story
What I have been describing is in fact the normal path for Christians, indeed, for human beings in general. We do our best to make things good, and somehow in the struggle we find that life gets so hard that we survive day by day. What I am calling for is a constant return to God, opening ourselves to God’s Spirit to pour out the oil of renewal in our lives.

I teach missions, so when I think of such experiences, I often think of missionaries I have known (or studied). They are not unique creatures, such that we cannot be like them. Rather, they are like us – or we are like them. We can learn from their stories, because their stories are our stories.
Frances Davidson was one of the first Brethren in Christ missionaries, who went to Zimbabwe in 1898. She was a remarkable woman. In a time when most BICs did not go beyond Grade 8, she did a Master’s Degree. In a time when most BICs lived in the countryside, she taught German Literature at McPherson College in Kansas. In a time when most women kept silence in church, she was ready to speak her mind and follow God’s leading wherever that took her. When a young man showed his interest in her, she was attracted to him, but she also realised that he had no call to follow God wherever God led. So she ended the relationship.

In 1896, she received her call call to follow God in overseas missionary work. Here is how she described it.
… the Lord came to me, as it were, in the midst of the class work, in the midst of other plans for the future, and swept away my books, reserving only the Bible. In reality He showed me Christ lifted up for a lost world. He filled me with an unutterable love for every soul who had not heard of Him, and with a passionate longing to go to worst parts of the earth, away from civilization, away from other mission bodies, and spend the rest of my life in telling the story of the Cross.

All of her joy and determination in doing God’s work meant that she often came in conflict with the men who supervised her work. I have read my grandfather’s comments about working with her; they are not complimentary! Further, the man she appreciated most was her fellow pioneer, Jesse Engle. Engle was 62 years old when the first missionary party sailed to Africa. He died after two years of hard work in Zimbabwe, one of the young country’s first White settlers, living in rugged conditions and without the medical supplies to protect himself from the tropical diseases there. In 1899, there were six missionaries at Matopo Mission, as George and Sara Cress joined the party. By 1900, Frances Davidson and Alice Heise were the only survivors. Then, in 1901 a young man named Isaac Lehman and a young woman named Adda Engle joined them. But while they waited for these workers to come from North America, the year 1900 was hard, as Frances Davidson and Alice Heise held the mission open.

I could say much more about that work and about the first Ndebele converts, who truly planted the BIC church in Zimbabwe, but this morning I am noting simply the struggle with Davidson’s soul. In February she wrote in her diary, “There is joy along the way these days and I praise God for continual victory in the Holy Ghost.” Good! Not long after, in April, she wrote more bitterly. I suspect that the struggle following Jesse Engle’s death was part of her despair.
Lord thou knowest thy purposes in bringing me out here and leaving me so utterly alone yes alone except thy wondrous sustaining Power. But how thou hast so utterly separated me from all human help and sympathy Thou alone knowest. Surrounded by those for the past three years who seem so determined to misunderstand me—shall I say?—or so unable to understand me. Instead of being better in outward H. Frances Davidson surroundings it seems to be almost worse and yet Lord thy promises are sweeter thy companionship sweeter. Thou alone knoweth the secrets of my heart and the travail of my soul. May I learn Thy lessons thoroughly and in patience. Thou knowest Thine own purposes in thus placing me. Oh! help me to live so on the Mountain tops with Thee that these things will cease to be trials that they will continually be real stepping-stones to mount to the summit. Dear Lord whatever is base in me purge out, whatever of self destroy utterly root and branch. Not like many who claim to have it destroyed when so often shows itself most hideous, but Lord I really want it dead in even the smallest particular and keep me patient under thy purifying fire though it should be ten times hotter than hitherto if that were possible. In many ways the future looks dark and trying, I can only see one step before me, but Lord hold my hand so firmly in thy powerful one that I may not even stumble in the darkness.
My Father do keep me sweet, loving, patient, trusting through it all. It is Thy will that I should be thus hold my faith fixed on Thee. I am so weak, Lord, but Thou art strong, I am so unworthy but thou art worthy. I am so lacking in all that Thou desireth me to be, but Thou hast an abundant storehouse, do Thou supply every lack and to Thee will be all the praise throughout eternity.

You can hear how she was struggling inside – with the survival of the mission, with conflicts she experienced, with her co-workers, and indeed with God himself. You hear also how her words turn from lament to praise, much as the psalmist pours out his soul in distress and then finishes with praises to God.

We might think that she was a missionary, a saint of the 19th century unlike us. Actually, she was just like us. This is path we walk, through the fire and water of troubles in our lives, into the safety of God’s eternal care – as we pour out our troubles to God and discover God’s closeness and care and love and protection in all the dangers of this life.


Steinbach Mennonite Church

7 April 2019

Lent Five
Focus Statement: When we are worn out with the familiar and lack of progress, Jesus calls us to the heights and we press on with joy.
Our focus word: Perseverance.
Movement – We add oil to the altar of stones.
Texts: Isaiah 43:16-21 Philippians 3:4-14

Texts
Isaiah 43: 16-21
16 Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, 17 who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick: 18 Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.
19 I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. 20 The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, 21 the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.

Philippians 3: 1b-14

Breaking with the Past

To write the same things to you is not troublesome to me, and for you it is a safeguard.
2 Beware of the dogs, beware of the evil workers, beware of those who mutilate the flesh! 3 For it is we who are the circumcision, who worship in the Spirit of God and boast in Christ Jesus and have no confidence in the flesh— 4 even though I, too, have reason for confidence in the flesh.
If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.
7 Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. 8 More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith. 10 I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, 11 if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

Pressing toward the Goal

12 Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13 Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.