Dad

Today is my father's 100th birthday. He died two short of this celebration, two years ago. I was with him for his birthday, holding a piece of cake in his hospital room in Harrisburg. The single candle was unlit in recognition of the oxygen tank that was helping him breathe. He said, "I don't like chocolate cake", which would have surprised mother. She baked him many chocolate cakes for birthdays of many years ago. So I ate the piece of cake as we talked together for his last birthday in his aging body.

Today, 100 years! Born 14 June 1919. David Elbert Climenhaga. My sister has told his story here, or at least the outline of it. Today, I remember him. I remember the INFJ (Myers-Briggs letters to give a snapshot of one's personality) who "overworks work re-working it". I remember someone who remembered more than I possibly could.

He wrote his memoirs (at one point called "Keep Lying to a Minimum"), in which I marvel at the precision of memory for events many years ago. I have his datebooks near me as I type, which help explain how he could state so clearly events from many years ago. He wrote things down! And he remembered things.

I remember his love and care -- for God, for the church, and for his family. These came together as we were driving to Phumula Mission in 1964. Dad was taking Bishop Elam Stauffer of the Mennonite Mission in Uganda to visit this outpost mission hospital 120 miles over sand roads into the bush. I was half-asleep in the back seat when I heard Dad say, "I wouldn't say this if Daryl were awake." Instantly I was awake, and completely still. "I know that the church has many problems, but I love the church deeply." I was unclear why I shouldn't overhear that and went back to sleep. But I remember it 55 years later. Dad loved the church deeply.

And Dad loved us deeply. In my desk, I have a letter he wrote when I missed the bus to Annville-Cleona High School. I was a 16-year old senior, and I overslept. Mother had to take me to school, throwing her day's schedule off. Dad sat down and wrote a letter to encourage me to be better and do better. Several pages. Some wisdom. Some just Dad. A visible memento of how deeply he cared for his children. [We, his children, could write letters about things that bugged us about Dad. No need to. He was also human, as we are.]

He loved mother even more. And in later years after mother died, Verna Mae. I remember his love and his care -- and his endless stories and puns and jokes, which we would try to derail, but never could. Today I remember, David Climenhaga was born 14 June 1919. One hundred years ago. I remember, and I love him.

A Pentecostal Picnic

What a thought! A Pentecostal Picnic for Dutch-German-Prussian-Russian Mennonites. Can you imagine us speaking in tongues and being slain in the Spirit – all before we sit down to a good picnic lunch with Farmers Sausage? What a thought!

Of course, Pentecost Sunday is not about “speaking in tongues”. Certainly, that particular phenomenon took place on that first Pentecost, but tongues are not the point. Let’s take a few moments this Pentecost to ask what the real point is, and to commit ourselves to paying attention to what God wants us to do.

Genesis 11

Genesis 11 tells how the unity of peoples at the beginning of the chapter are scattered into the plurality of peoples in which God called Abraham and Sarah to form the People of God. The human family had a common language, which enabled them to work together. This is seen as a good thing, a gift of God’s grace. Then, as happens throughout the biblical narrative, the human race used God’s grace to establish themselves and undermine God. They said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.”

God saw the threat of human independence and countered it by confusing their languages. No longer able to understand each other, people spread out across the earth. God’s judgment separated people from each other so that they could again begin to find God. The rest of Scripture details God’s search for the human race, reconciling all people to God’s self.

Acts 2

Pentecost is so named because it comes 50 days after the Passover – so, for Christians, 50 days (seven weeks) after the crucifixion and resurrection. [For Jews, the Feast of Weeks (see Deuteronomy 16).] In Acts 1: 3, Luke tells us that the ascension followed the resurrection by 40 days, so Pentecost came about 10 days later.

The disciples were waiting in Jerusalem for God’s Spirit to come (Acts 1: 5). When the Spirit came, they were gathered together – perhaps in the upper room of Acts 1: 13, or perhaps in the Temple area more generally as Acts 2 seems to suggest. Signs of the Spirit’s presence were tongues of fire and the sound of a mighty wind, and then the dramatic sign of speaking in other language. A crowd of pilgrims from around the Jewish world responded to the sign and to Peter’s sermon, leading to the first church in Jerusalem.

The Point

We often think that the point of Pentecost is that the first believers spoke in tongues. They did, but that is a fruit of the real point, not itself the important point for us to take. So, what is the real point? Go back to the way that this passage is paired off with Genesis 11. Genesis 11 shows how and why God judged the human race. God judged the human race for its pride and rebellion in trying to establish itself without God [trying to take God’s place], and God judged the human race by confusing their tongues and creating many languages.

This fact of judgment suggests that at Pentecost, God heals the judgment of Babel. That suggestion is true, but not in the way that we might have expected: God does not reverse the judgment. A simple healing would have been to restore the original language to all the people present, so that everyone would have found themselves speaking God’s language. [German, maybe?] That is not what happens! The text says that they started speaking in various languages, so that the people listening said, “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language?”

Aside: Actually, the text is ambiguous. It states: “All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken.” The disciples “spoke in other tongues” and the hearers heard their own language. It is not quite clear that the disciples spoke the languages that the hearers understood. There may have been as much a miracle of hearing as of speaking.

Confusion is healed by anointing each language and culture and making it the vehicle that bears God’s revelation. What was experienced as judgment in Genesis 11 is experienced as grace in Acts 2. This is a profoundly important point: God uses the problems and difficulties of our lives to reveal grace and mercy and love. God does not deliver us from our problems, but rather God uses our problems to bring us into closer relationship with God.

You observe that God’s Spirit came on the disciples while they were waiting for the Spirit. Jesus told them to go to Jerusalem and wait for God’s Spirit (Acts 1: 4-5). After the ascension, they did just that, walking from the Mount of Olives a Sabbath Day’s walk back into Jerusalem.

As I said earlier, they probably waited for about a week and a half, but there was not much in what Jesus said to tell them how long they would need to wait. All he said was this (Acts1: 4-5): “Wait in Jerusalem … [and] in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” How long is “a few days”? I don’t know. It turns out to have been a week and a half, but they didn’t know that. I once asked a South Korean student if she thought that North and South Korea would reunify soon. [This was just after East and West Germany had re-unified.] She said, “Yes.” I said, “How soon?” She said, “About 30 years!” Her idea of soon was different than mine.

Well, God’s idea of “a few days” may be different than ours. All they knew was that they were going to wait for God to act. As one preacher put it, “Don’t just do something. Stand there!” More often, we think of what we can do to bring in God’s reign, while God wants us to wait for the moving of the Spirit.

Living with the Texts

So, what do we do? We see where these two ideas take us: 1) We need the presence of God’s Spirit to experience God’s healing; and 2) God’s healing comes through the problems of our lives – not simply by removing them, but by working through them for our benefit.

My first thought is that these passages call us to acknowledge our own pride and our own desire to do God’s work ourselves. Like the people at Babel, we want to establish ourselves and make a name for ourselves. I experience this desire as much as anyone here, but the fact is that none of us can make life work just right. Sooner or later, life is too much for us, and we run into trouble. Then we make our problems worse by insisting that we can fix them ourselves. Asking God to do in us what God wants to do is hard, because God might want to do something we don’t want.

Step number one, then: Admit our faults and failures. Admit that often enough we are responsible for our own problems. For example, I say sometimes that I’m not a good organizer. That is certainly true, but I was listening to someone in one of the committee meetings I go to. He said, “When I get up in the morning, one of the first things I do is look at my schedule so that I remember what I need to do today.” I thought to myself, “I’ve never done that!” Well, who should I blame for not being a good organizer? At least some of my trouble with organizing is simply my own fault.

Step number two: Seek God’s Spirit. Wait for the Holy Spirit. Waiting is an expectant, intentional act. It is not simply doing nothing and trusting that God will fix everything some day. God will fix everything some day, but another word for that time is “Judgment Day”. Malachi speaks sternly to people who take that day lightly: “Who shall abide the day of his coming, and who shall stand when he appears?” Waiting is not an aimless careless attitude towards life.

To wait for the Holy Spirit is to trust God to take care of us. To wait for God is to act in the present based on what we know today, trusting that God will show us tomorrow what we should do. To wait is to examine ourselves and make sure there is nothing in us to hinder or grieve God’s Spirit. To wait is to anticipate and long for and believe deeply, “God is coming!”

Confession and repentance and trust combine in the community we call the church as we wait for God to break in. When the Spirit comes, God uses the problems that we have been struggling with to heal us. At Pentecost, God used the problem of broken and fractured languages that we call “culture”, and God baptized cultures and languages and used them to reveal the coming of God’s Spirit. That’s what God does. God heals us not from, but through, our problems.

When that happens, God’s Spirit bursts out among us, and people gaze in wonder at the transformation that takes place. You can’t predict what God’s work will look like. You can’t predict who God’s Spirit will fall on. You can’t predict what will happen to SMC in the next ten years. All we can do is wait – anticipate and long for and prepare ourselves for God to work.

A Closing Picture

A few weeks ago I attended a conference on the Global Anabaptist Identity. John Roth, director of the Institute for the Study ofGlobal Anabaptism in Goshen, Indiana, was our resource speaker. He came up with an unusual image of what the church looks like as it spreads through the work of God’s Spirit. He by-passed the usual images that we think of such as a building, or a body, or a community [although all of these are true and good] and suggested a different picture instead. He compared the church to a rhizome.

Now, perhaps the only people here who know what a rhizome is are the gardeners. Here is Wikipedia’s definition of a rhizome: “In botany and dendrology, a rhizome is a modified subterranean plant stem that sends out roots and shoots from its nodes. Rhizomes are also called creeping rootstalks or just rootstalks. Rhizomes develop from axillary buds and grow horizontally. The rhizome also retains the ability to allow new shoots to grow upwards.”

More simply, everything from aspens to quack grass: Plants that share a root system, so that they are one organism, while growing as many plants. The Mennonite Church in Ethiopia shows us how resilient such an organism is, led by the Holy Spirit. The first Mennonite workers entered Ethiopia in 1945, and the first Ethiopian converts were baptized in 1951. In 1974, the country came under Communist rule in a military coup, and the government placed increasing restrictions on the church. In 1982, the government closed the 14 Mennonite congregations then in existence and confiscated the church’s property. People were forbidden to meet n groups any larger than five. There were about 5,000 Mennonites at that time, and they organized themselves in small cell groups of five people.

Over the next 10 years, believers met in homes in these small groups, and finally a new government came to power. In 1991, the church was allowed to meet in larger groups and their property was restored. When they came out into the open, they found that they had grown from 5,000 to 34,000 – the ultimate example of a rhizome! You think you have stamped it out, when all that has happened is that it has gone underground and spread widely.

[Information on the Meserete Kristos Church comes from Gameo and from the Anabaptist Wiki.]

Most important in that example is the fact that the Holy Spirit used what seemed to be great tragedy and distress to do God’s work. That is the lesson I want to learn. God works through what feels like judgment to bring grace and new life. Our part is to wait in God’s presence and remain open to God’s work.

A disclaimer: What I am saying can easily be turned into a destructive triumphalism. Someone loses a loved one, and we say, “Wait for what God is doing in your life!” Ouch! Paul tells us to weep with those who weep. Our first response in the face of tragedy is to grieve and weep together. Not to explain. Please, not to explain! Or someone might say, “You have lost your loved one so young! What did you do that God is punishing you for?” Please no! Do not explain! First we grieve together.

Within the hard times and tragedies of our lives, I can hold out this word of hope: God works God’s grace and comfort and gives us joy, even in the darkest night. Wait for the Lord. Wait for God’s Spirit. God will come, and we will grow with the Spirit’s growth as God heals our confusion and gives us life.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

Church Picnic

9 June 2019

Genesis 11: 1-9

The tower of Babel

11 Now the whole world had one language and a common speech. ² As people moved eastward, they found a plain in Shinar and settled there.

³ They said to each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick instead of stone, and bitumen for mortar. ⁴ Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.”

⁵ But the Lord came down to see the city and the tower the people were building. ⁶ The Lord said, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. ⁷ Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other.”

⁸ So the Lord scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city. ⁹ That is why it was called Babel – because there the Lord confused the language of the whole world. From there the Lord scattered them over the face of the whole earth.

Acts 2: 1-21

The Holy Spirit comes at Pentecost

2 When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. ² Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. ³ They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. ⁴ All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

⁵ Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven. ⁶ When they heard this sound, a crowd came together in bewilderment, because each one heard their own language being spoken. ⁷ Utterly amazed, they asked: “Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans? ⁸ Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language? ⁹ Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, ¹⁰ Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome ¹¹ (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs – we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!’ ¹² Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, “What does this mean?”

¹³ Some, however, made fun of them and said, “They have had too much wine.”

Peter addresses the crowd

¹⁴ Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice and addressed the crowd: “Fellow Jews and all of you who live in Jerusalem, let me explain this to you; listen carefully to what I say. ¹⁵ These people are not drunk, as you suppose. It’s only nine in the morning! ¹⁶ No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel:

¹⁷ “In the last days,” God says, “I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. ¹⁸ Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy.

¹⁹  “I will show wonders in the heavens above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. ²⁰ The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord. ²¹ And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

A Bit More About Missions

Throughout the past year we have been reflecting on a recent sermon. Usually, our morning speaker goes back to the previous Sunday’s sermon and presents ideas and questions that occurred to home. I’m going back three weeks to my own sermon – on the way that God calls us into mission. I emphasized the comprehensive nature of God’s call. It includes everyone, what John the Revelator calls “all nations and kindreds and peoples and tongues”.

Near the end of the sermon, I made an important point – that we cannot give away what we don’t have. We are witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection only if we have experienced Jesus’ resurrection ourselves. I want to reflect a bit on this thought, as we come to the end of our Men’s Prayer Breakfast Year. To do so, I’m going to read an extended excerpt from the Break Point commentaries, started by Chuck Coulson. This commentary was written by Dustin Messer.

“I’ll say this for you, you’re not a jerk.” That comment changed the way I thought about my faith and the way I go about sharing it. Some context may help. I was sitting across the table from a friend who was exploring the Christian faith. She had no background in Christianity except for a fire and brimstone style evangelist she’d occasionally hear preach on the quad of her college. The conversation started around the difference between the Christian understanding of grace, but quickly moved toward the Christian sexual ethic.

She politely but firmly told me that she found the ethic I hold … was regressive, oppressive, and otherwise morally bankrupt. The up side: she left thinking I wasn’t a jerk. The down side: my “unjerkliness” made no difference with regard to her faith, or lack thereof. … Our winsomeness won’t carry the luggage we think it will because people aren’t rejecting the faith because they don’t feel welcome, but because they don’t want in. …

… Let’s go back to the conversation that got me thinking about this. By saying I wasn’t a jerk, my friend was telling me I wasn’t the obstacle. The reason she wasn’t interested in Jesus wasn’t because of who I was, it was because of who He was. In his brilliant little book Indispensable, David Cassidy emphasizes this very point:

Whoever Jesus was, he was not a ‘nice’ person spouting lofty platitudes about peace; no, Jesus was a threat, despite his goodness—or, rather, precisely because of his goodness. Jesus was good but was considered as good as dead by his opponents, both religious and secular, because he was everything they weren’t and the people knew it. For those leaders, it was ‘Jesus or me,’ not ‘Jesus for me’! …

Our kindness comes from our love for God and neighbor, not because we find it to be an effective strategy. In this way, the post-Christian world in which we find ourselves in today isn’t that different from the pre-Christian world of yesterday. Now, like then, people stay home on Sunday not because they view themselves as deficient, but because they view Jesus and the church as deficient.

You hear that critical line: “people stay home on Sunday not because they view themselves as deficient, but because they view Jesus and the church as deficient.” To put it another way, if we people around us think that Jesus has nothing to offer them and that the church is irrelevant, we’re wasting our time inviting them inside.

So, are we the problem? Is Jesus the problem? Sometimes the deficiency in the church is just that we don’t follow Jesus well. We aren’t any different than people outside the church, and they rightly wonder why they need to become a Christian to be just like they are now. The cure for that deficiency is to follow Jesus. That’s the idea behind my saying earlier, “We can’t give what we don’t have.”

There’s another more serious problem though. Sometimes the problem that people see is what Jesus wants, indeed requires, of us. Jesus says over and over again, “Follow me.” We use words like, “Jesus is Lord of my life.” Really? Well, who wants that? We call ourselves “slaves/servants of Christ.” That feels like a problem to people in our society.

The watchword of our society is “Look out for number one.” Take care of yourself. Don’t let anyone push you around. The idea that we should be “slaves of Christ” is not attractive to a self-confident inner-oriented society. That we should give our lives on behalf of others and on behalf of someone who died 2,000 years ago just is not attractive at all.

What’s the cure to this deficiency? How do we reach out to people who don’t want what we have? Let me suggest two simple and vital steps.

1)      Be good. Be kind. The way that the writer I quoted begins is good: “I’ll say this for you. You’re not a jerk. Given that many people around us think Christians are jerks, it’s worthwhile when we develop relationships in which they can learn to know us and trust us. If we have strong relationships, we may even be able to make the case for Jesus.

2)      Being good is not nearly enough: Be vulnerable. Be honest about yourself. Life is hard, and everyone – sooner or later – experiences the brokenness that goes with being alive. If we have been good and kind, and if we have shown that following Jesus is intellectually credible, and if we are honest about our doubts and hurts and our own broken times, then, when a friend falls under the wheels of life, they may hear what we’ve been saying and check us out. Then they find that Jesus and the church no longer appear deficient. Then we can give what we have.

Being honest and vulnerable about our experiences of life and of God’s presence is the more important of these two steps. You don’t have to be a good apologist to tell admit your brokenness and to tell your story. You just have to have a story. “You can’t give what you don’t have.”

1 June 2019

Men’s Prayer Supper

Steinbach Mennonite Church

A Defense of Graduation

Graduation time! Here is an edited version of what I wrote to our daughter-in-law (of whom we are indeed proud), but it applies to any graduate -- especially to those gaining their terminal degree. ["I'm done with school! So cool! I wonder what it means?"]

Some people find graduation ceremonies pretentious and prefer to skip the formalities. I skipped my BA ceremony (I was already in Rhodesia [1972: now called Zimbabwe] when the grad was held) and my Th.M. grad (we had gone off to Missionary Training institute in the Detroit, MI area for orientation for our service with BIC Missions. I was there for my M. Div. – informal, no gowns please, we’re Mennonites! And for my D. Miss. at Asbury. I think that was when I understood the importance of the formal stuff. Darrell Whiteman [my advisor, and who shaped my mission and teaching career thoroughly] gave me a Parker Jotter pen, a small symbol of the fact that he had been my mentor. His advisor had done the same some years before. Since then, I have given out pens to my advisees when they get their MA. The symbol reminds me that I stand in a chain of scholars, none of us complete on our own. 

For my final degree (doctor of missiology), I was hooded, so that I wear the cap and gown and doctoral hood. I didn’t really grasp the importance of being robed and hooded until I went through grad several times as a member of faculty at Providence. The gown that a local company made to my specifications is wrong. I told them burnt orange (missiology); they gave me blue (education). Well, a D. Miss. Is the equivalent of a Doctor of Education (Ed. D.) – which is why they gave me blue, but I want my burnt orange! Sometimes I wear the master’s hood from Providence, since it has the right colour. Sometimes I wear the hood Gaspards (the maker in question) gave me, since it is a doctor’s hood. I can’t quite wear both to the grad itself!

A side note: My colleagues at Providence have heard me bemoan the wrong colour many times. They might have said, "Well, get it fixed!" But they have been gracious and listened sympathetically (at least on the outside).

I tell this story because of what I learned in it. The hood is important, and the colour of the hood is important, because it stands for something. It is a symbol of the community of scholars to which we belong – a community of people for whom truth matters. We betray that truth often – through a wrong-colour hood, through shoddy scholarship, through biases through which we twist our data to say what is not in fact true. But behind and beyond our failures, we hold that truth matters. We have devoted our lives to the search for truth, and in laying the hood of your shoulders, your advisor initiates you into full membership in the community of scholars.

The same is true for every graduation: Whatever symbol stands for the graduation in your mind, the real meaning is, I submit, that you and I [all of those who have committed themselves to the task of learning] belong to a community for whom truth matters. Many in our society have abandoned truth and the search for truth. We recommit ourselves to truth in the name of the one who called himself "the way, the truth, and the life."

God’s Mission: Our Mission

I am a missions professor. That’s what I do. The greatest danger this morning is that I will try to say everything I have been teaching for the past 22 years in one short sermon. A bad idea! At least I have to begin with what the words “mission/missions” mean. They come from the Latin word for “sending”. In the New Testament the same word occurs in Greek as “apostle”. The apostles were missionaries – sent ones, sent by God to their world. God sends us also into the world as God’s people. In John 21, Jesus said to the disciples, “As the Father sent me into the world, I am sending you.” We are sent both as God’s representatives and in the way that God entered our world as the Incarnate Son.

From the beginning of Scripture to the end, God’s people are called from every nation and sent to every nation. Paul puts it this way, “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to God’s self, and God has given to you and me the ministry and message of reconciliation” (my paraphrase from 2 Corinthians 5).

To put it another way, God sends us into the world around us as a reconciling people. We are Christ’s hands and feet and voice to all those we meet. In Martin Luther’s words, each one of us is a “little Christ”. Together we are the presence of Christ in the world. A key point in this overarching statement is that it applies to everyone. There are no barriers in the Reign of God.

This morning, I want to reflect on this basic theme by looking at Genesis 12 and the call of Abram and Sarai, Matthew 28 and what we call “the Great Commission”, and Revelation 7 with its picture of God’s people at the end of all things. A common theme in all these passages is that we are God’s people for the sake of all people on earth, now and forever.

Genesis 12: 1 to 5

The call of Abram and Sarai is sometimes thought of as the beginning of missions. God calls them to follow because humankind had rebelled against God. This call is the beginning of God’s work to reconcile humankind to the eternal Godhead. There is much here that we will not treat this morning – such as the contrasting parallels with chapter 11 (contrast “Let us build, let us make a name for ourselves” with “I [God] will build you, I [God] will make a name for you”). Rather I will focus in on one main point.

We see that Abram was already part of a nomadic family, which had moved from “Ur of the Chaldeans” to Harran, on their way to Canaan. Ur was southeast of Babylon, close to the Persian Gulf in modern Iraq. If the text means for us to think of Babylon when we read about Babel in Genesis 11, Abraham’s ancestors moved southeast from Babylon towards the Gulf. Abraham’s father, Terah, set out from Ur to move to Canaan (Genesis 11: 31), but settled in Harran instead. Harran is northwest of Babylon and Ur, following the great rivers of that land almost to their source. It lies just within the modern state of Turkey.

God called Abraham and Sarah to finish the journey that Terah began and follow the road southwest into the land of Canaan. The story of that journey and its results takes up much of the book of Genesis, but I want to emphasize the accompanying promise God made Genesis 12: 2-3,

I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.

More issues to mention briefly and then leave alone: The place of blessing and cursing; the way that these people therefore represent God; and so on. In all these ideas I see one overarching idea: That God is using Abraham to bring God’s blessing to “all peoples on earth”. Who are “all peoples”? At the beginning of the promise, God says that Abraham and Sarah will be the first parents of a great “nation”. This seems to be a larger category than “peoples of the earth”. The difference is like the difference between Canada and the Randolph Peters. Sometimes the phrase, “the peoples on earth”, is translated as “the families of the earth”.

I see three simple points here.

One: We are individuals who always belong to a group. No one is a full person in isolation. Anyone who is cut off from all others is unhappy and alienated. Fully human life is lived together in community.

Two: Every community finds its fullest joy in God’s blessing. Indeed, salvation here appears to be directed first towards the group. We are saved in community and for community.

Three: There is no one left out of God’s plan – no individual and no group of people. God wants all people to receive God’s blessing. God wants everyone to be saved.

This emphasis on “everyone” – every individual and every people group – is what we carry forward as we turn to Matthew 28.

Matthew 28: 16 to 20

We usually call this brief passage that concludes Matthew’s gospel, “The Great Commission.” Again, there are many important themes we will mention and then leave aside. The commission is set up by the location, a mountain in Galilee to which Jesus had directed them. Evidently, Jesus wanted to echo the way that Moses went up the mountain to receive the Law. This commission is part of “Christ’s Law”.

Then, Jesus reminds them of his authority. He is the King of the Universe. The theme of Jesus’ rule over all runs throughout Matthew’s Gospel from beginning to end. Jesus’ exercises this authority in giving the mandate that follows. The actual command is to make disciples. The setting for the command is the lives of the disciples: “As you go, wherever you go, make disciples.” The content of discipling is the invitation to join God’s family (“baptizing”) and the commitment to obedience (“teaching them to obey whatever Jesus commands”).

Sometimes we stop there. We hear the commission and emphasize the necessity of witness and invitation and obedience, but Jesus did not stop there. Jesus includes the scope of our missionary mandate: “Make disciples of all peoples.” The word that Jesus used for “peoples” could be translated as “Gentiles”. In Matthew 10, during his earthly ministry, Jesus used the same word to restrict his own ministry: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, but go only to the Lost Sheep of Israel.” Now, at the end of his ministry, Jesus lifts the exclusion: Go to the Gentiles also. Make disciples of the Gentiles also.

It is hard for us to see how revolutionary this extension of the gospel to Gentiles was. The boundary between “God’s Chosen People” and all the rest was strong in the Jewish identity. In times of strength and peace, the people might be open to outsiders – such as Ruth, Moabite woman, who was brought into Boaz’ family in the book of Ruth. In times of danger, such as the Return from the Exile recorded in Ezra and Nehemiah, they were not open to outsiders of any kind. Ezra the priest forced those who had married non-Gentile wives to send their wives away. Those outsiders could not be part of God’s People.

Now Jesus removes the boundary decisively and forever. No one needs to remain outside God’s blessing. No one is automatically excluded. Everyone, which really means everyone, is invited to God’s Banquet. Here the blessing extended through Abraham and Sarah and their descendants is fulfilled within the church.

Revelation 7: 9 to 17

This brings us to our third passage, a vision of the end of time. John portrays events in human history, showing both their earthly appearance and their heavenly or spiritual reality. So, in chapter 6 we read about the fifth seal:

⁹ When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. ¹⁰ They called out in a loud voice, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” ¹¹ Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the full number of their fellow servants, their brothers and sisters, were killed just as they had been.

Chapter 7 does not present a subsequent scene, but rather we see the lives of John’s readers from a different perspective. Both chapters describe, not future history, but the readers’ present experience. In chapter 6, we see the results of persecution, “the souls of those who had been slain”. In chapter 7, they are described as “they who have come out of the great tribulation”.

I see no benefit in trying to work out time schemes and predict when some event called “the great tribulation” will occur. This is rather a description of life here on this earth as servants of the Living God. In 2 Corinthians 6: 9-10 (NEB), Paul describes us as “the unknown men whom all men know; dying we still live on; disciplined by suffering, we are not done to death; in our sorrows we have always cause for joy; poor ourselves, we bring wealth to many; penniless, we own the world.” This description captures the scene in Revelation 7.

Again, I want to emphasize one theme only from this description. “I saw a great crowd of every nation and kindred and people and tongue.” With great force, John picks up the description from Genesis 12 (“all families of the earth”) and Matthew 28 (“even the Gentiles! – All of them”), and he spells out what “everyone” means: People from every country, people from ethnic group, people from every social group, people from every language on earth. Everyone!

Synthesis

This description could be the poster verse for any conversation on diversity. From it, I take one simple lesson: The church is meant to include everyone. In the first sermon I preached from this pulpit, I said that there is something about being Christian that breaks down barriers and includes everyone. I believed it then, and I believe it now.

Missions is the life blood of the church because we are always in danger of turning into our own little community, unintentionally excluding those not like us. When that happens, we become only a social group, a sub-culture within the larger society. God wants us to be open, inviting everyone, always reaching out to those who do not know God and participating in Christ’s great work of reconciling the world to God.

What Does This Look Like?

We are in a three-part series on missions. Next Sunday, Dorothy Fontaine can give us more of a picture of what our participation in God’s mission looks like, but I will begin today with four simple observations.

1. Missions begins with the people around us. We look around us for those who are experiencing alienation from God and from other people, and then we reach out to them as the mouth and hands and feet of Jesus. (I am relying on Paul’s description of mission in 2 Corinthians 5: God has given us the ministry and message of reconciliation.)

We naturally reach out to those who look like us and think like us. We grew out of the migrations of Russian Mennonites to Canada in the late 1940s. People who share that experience fit well with us, but Scripture emphasizes the reach of the gospel to everyone. In being God’s reconciling people, we look also for people who do not look or act just like us. The only requirement is that they are people whom God loves and we know.

Our SCO is a good example of such outreach. We reach out to the people around us, wherever they are in their lives, and together we become community.

2. Missions includes people across the oceans, as far away as you can imagine. I have friends in Egypt and in United Arab Emirates. I know people from Ukraine and from New Zealand. Any place you can imagine, God is there and God wants the people there to experience reconciliation. God calls all of us to minister to the people closest to us, and God calls some of us to go far away as Christ’s reconciling agents.

[Here I talked about some of our own missionaries: Descriptions omitted online.]

3. Missions is a group ministry. You notice the group language in all three texts. God normally calls God’s people to mission in community. We go as community, and we call people into community. Our lives together as God’s people is at the heart of mission.

4. This fact leads to the relationship between nurture and evangelism. We don’t have time to develop this relationship, but I will say this much. The Great Commission begins in worship (v. 17) and ends in our intimate relationship with Christ (v.20). We can say it briefly: Revival is the engine of missions. You cannot give what you do not have, and when you are filled with God’s Spirit, you cannot keep from sharing what you have with everyone around you.

Emil Brunner once said, “The Church exists by mission, just as a fire exists by burning. Where there is no mission, there is no church; and where there is neither Church nor mission, there is no faith.” (Brunner was Swiss theologian who could have said it in German, which would sound even more impressive.) Think of that. It fits well with the texts we read. If people around us do not receive God’s blessings through us, we fall short of being God’s Church. If we do not invite people around us to Jesus, we fall short of being God’s Church. If our fellowship does not reflect the diversity of the world around us, we fall short of being God’s Church.

Many years ago, the founder of Operation Mobilization, George Verwer, recited a parody of the old hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Here is part of what he said:

Like a mighty tortoise moves the Church of God;

Brothers we are treading where we’ve always trod.

We are much divided, many bodies we,

Having many doctrines, not much charity.

Of course, this is a parody. The original hymn is what Verwer wanted us to hear, and it is what I would call us to as well.

Like a mighty army moves the church of God,

Brothers we are treading where the saints have trod.

We are not divided, all one body we.

One in hope and doctrine. One in charity.

God calls us to move forward in love and community, united by God’s Spirit, and blessing everyone we meet. May it be so.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

12 May 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

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 19^th 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.