The Way of the Cross

Every summer for ten years I went back packing in the Wallow Mountains Eagle Cap wilderness.  After a week of sitting on logs and sleeping on the ground I longed for a chair to sit back in and a comfortable bed.  We are comfort loving creatures.  We seek ease and pleasure and try to avoid difficulty and unpleasantness. And yet, if we stop to think about it, there seems to be a law written into the universe that nothing really good comes without struggle, or even pain and suffering.

Look at the great athletes who have been in Eugene for the Olympic trials these past ten days.  How many stories have we read about the long hours, working to the point of exhaustion, and then running long distances with heart pounding, lungs bursting, muscles aching, to the finish line -- and then the joy.

Or look at the mother-to-be.  Weeks, sometimes months of morning sickness, a growing discomfort, and finally, labor pains.  I knew a young minister who once said to a woman who was having a long, difficult delivery, "I know how you feel."  You can imagine her response.

While it can be misapplied when exercising there is a great truth behind the slogan, "no pain, no gain."

This truth is certainly seen in the cross.  There is an old gospel hymn that says, "The Way of the Cross Leads Home."  What is the way of the cross?  We could well answer: it is the way that Jesus took for us.  As another hymn says, "Jesus Paid It All."  The way of the cross is the way Jesus took to bring salvation to us, a way that involved sacrifice and suffering.

But the way of the cross can apply to our journey as well.  In fact, Jesus said to those around him, "If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me" (Matt 16).  The way of the cross is for us as well.

Last week I attended some of the Oregon Christian Convention at Turner and was struck by a speaker's statement that expressed exactly what I wanted to say in this communion meditation.  He was talking about how the cross was central to Paul's thinking in 1 Corinthians and said something like this: the cross is not just a fact to be appreciated; it is a way of life to be practiced.

The symbolism of the cross was transformed by Christ.  It was a symbol in the Roman world of criminality and guilt on the one hand and of cruelty and persecution on the other.  But Christ made it a symbol of self-giving sacrifice, of giving one's life on behalf of others, and an expression of unconditional love.  This is the way of the cross, the way that Jesus asked us to travel with him.  It is not easy or comfortable but the way of the cross leads home.

Life In The Son

It is nice to see the sun today.  At times this past winter and early spring I have wondered if we would ever see it again.  I have lived almost my entire life in Oregon and a little rain doesn't bother me but it seems like we have had an excess of cloudy skies and rain this year.  It has interfered with my golf game and with getting my lawn mowed.  I have heard many others express similar sentiments.  I can understand why some of you steal off to Arizona each winter.

This desire for the sun is more significant and has a deeper meaning, however,  than simply wanting to escape the wet and weary winter.  When we seek the sun we are unconsciously trying to connect with the source of life.  When we are cut off from the sun symptoms of decline begin to appear.  Our skin becomes whiter; listlessness, apathy and a weariness of spirit sets in, actually bringing on depression in some cases.  Vitamin D, which comes from the sun, is vital to our health and with very little sun we end up taking supplements.

If you put yourself under the sun you don't have to work or engage in artificial stimulants, or do anything to receive its life giving benefits.  You don't have to command a stone which is lying in the sun to become warm;  it becomes warm quite of itself.  Or, more accurately, from its relationship to the sun.  It's the relationship that does it.

Helmut Thielicke, theologian and pastor who preached in Germany during the second world war, became famous for his sermons on the Lord's Prayer.  He spoke on this theme in one of them:  "when we get away from God we become like someone who is deprived of the sun and is therefore artificially isolated from the element of life which is part of his nature."

Life, vitality and spiritual health do not come by our own power.  It is the relationship that does it.  Thielicke added, "The person who hallows God's name, lets him be his Lord, and surrenders his life to Him, will be drawn quite spontaneously ... into a great healing process and will become a new person.  One cannot become a new person by deciding to become one.  He can become a new person only when he allows himself to be incorporated into this living process of fellowship with God."  Then Thielicke added this simple poem:  

The sun that smiles at me

Is Jesus Christ my Lord;

Its what in heaven I see

That lifts my heart to sing.

As John said, "In Him was life, and the life was the light of men" (1:4).  Jesus is the one who brings me out of my dark house and tells me that the Sun is smiling at me -- who gives me this relationship with the Father that means life!  We come now, in the Lord's Supper, to renew and strengthen the relationship that gives us life.  Here we place ourselves under the Son and He gives the warmth of life.

Who Is This? From Triumphal Entry to Empty Tomb in Matthew's Gospel

When Jesus entered the city of Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday, Matthew says the whole city was stirred and people were asking, "Who is this?"  In the week that followed many would find the answer to this question.  Of course, the Gospels were written in order to answer the question, "Who is Jesus?"  And also to challenge us with the question that Jesus asked Peter: "Who do you say that I am?"  As he describes the last week of Jesus ministry Matthew adds to our understanding of who Jesus really is.

ON SUNDAY we see that he is King and Savior of his people.  Jesus enters Jersualem like a king and Matthew says, "This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, Say to the daughter of Zion, behold, your King is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden" (21:4-5).

ON MONDAY he is a judge with God's authority.  "And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons.  He said to them, 'It is written, my house shall be called a house of prayer and you make it a den of robbers'" (21:12-13).

ON TUESDAY he is a teacher whose authority is challenged.  "And when he entered the temple the chief priests and the elders of the people came up to him as he was teaching and said, 'By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?'" (21:23).  There followed a long day of prophetic teaching that clearly answered his challengers.  At the end of the day Matthew tells us this: "When he had finished all these sayings he said to his disciples, 'You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.'" (26:1-2).

ON WEDNESDAY Jesus is silent while his enemies plot his death.  "Then the chief priests and the elders gathered in the palace of the high priest ... and plotted together in order to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him"  (26:3-4).

ON THURSDAY he is both Host and Meal at the Last Supper.  "Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, 'Take, eat; this is my body.'  And he took a cup and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, 'Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins'" (26:26-28).

ON FRIDAY he is Suffering Servant and Sacrificial Son.  "When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death.  And they bound him and led him away and delivered him over to Pilate the governor" (27:1-2).

ON SATURDAY he is dead and buried.  All are silent.

ON SUNDAY HE IS THE RESURRECTED LORD.  "But the angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here, for he has risen ... !!!" (28:5-6).

Now the question is before us -- you and me -- who do you say Jesus is?

OUR SUBVERSIVE CONFESSION

Did you know that when you make the confession of faith that we use at communion that you are also confessing to what some would consider to be subversive, counterrevolutionary activities?

This is clearly understood in China today.  "Liao Yiwu is one of the most prominent and outspoken contemporary writers in China.  His epic poem, 'Massacre,' composed in 1989 in condemnation of the government's bloody crackdown at Tiananmen Square, landed him in jail for four years" (God is Red, vii).   His other writings are also banned because the Communist government considers them to be subversive.

In 1998 Liao met a Christian for the first time, a neurologist turned preacher in a Protestant church.  Liao, himself a skeptic, admired the courage of this man and other Christians so he set out to interview several of them.  His book, God is Red, records many of his interviews.

As I read the book I found it ironic that a primary tactic of the government is to force Christians to make confessions.  One elderly Christian told of his imprisonment, beatings and torture, and added, "Before the government reversed its verdict against me ... I had written several hundred confessions."  Many were confessions of Christian activities, such as meeting together, preaching, and evangelizing -- all considered to be counterrevolutionary.

I find this ironic because, for Christians, confession is at the heart of their faith.  Confession is what it is all about.  An open, willing, unforced, confession of one's commitment to Christ.  When these Chinese Christians complied with the demand of their officials to confess, were they contradicting their Christian faith?  I don't think so.  They complied because they knew as well as the officials knew that their faith did in fact go against the interests of the totalitarian state in which they live.  Their confession of faith in Christ was indeed subversive.

It has always been that way.  In the beginning, when Christians made the simple confession, "Jesus is Lord," they were going against the Roman political and religious establishment that said, "Caesar is Lord."

When we say "Jesus is Lord," what gods in our culture do we subvert?  What is it in our culture that tempts us to worship it?  The almighty dollar?  Big-time sports?  The cult of celebrity worship?  The electronic gadget?  Whatever idol it may be, our confession of faith at the communion table says, in effect, "get behind me, Satan; only Jesus is Lord."

"You (all) Proclaim the Lord's Death ... "

To understand our regular observance of the Lord's Supper it is important to pay attention to words used and their meaning.  Simple words often have important implications.

In 1 Corinthians 11:23-25 the Apostle Paul gave us the earliest written record of what Jesus said at the Last Supper.  He handed on the tradition that had been given to him, that Jesus spoke about the bread as his body, the cup as the new covenant in his blood, and asked that they do this "in remembrance of me."  Then Paul added an explanation in verse 26 in which two very important words appear: "For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."

The first word that claims our attention is "proclaim," a word often used with words like "proclaim Christ," or "proclaim the good news."  It refers to the act of preaching.  Here Paul speaks about proclaiming the Lord's death, an action that he stressed in the first and second chapters of this letter.  The word also includes the idea of celebrating, commending, or openly praising.

By simply communing, therefore, we all are preachers of the good news that Jesus died for us.  It is a Visible Word, a Seen Sermon.  The pronoun, "you" is plural.  It isn't just the preacher, or a presiding elder that does it -- you all preach this sermon.  And all are needed.  When one or more are absent the Visible Word is diminished to that extent.

It is done with others.  The Lord's Supper was not meant to be an individual, private exercise.  Our gathering together is necessary for the Lord's Supper to be what it is meant to be.  When we come together we serve notice to the world that the death of Christ is real in our lives, that it impacts our lives in some mysterious yet very real way.  Our gathering and observing the Lord's Supper is evidence of the continuing power of the death and resurrection of Christ.  In this act we tell the world about the death of Christ.

The grammatical form of the word "proclaim" (present active indicative) means that it is a continuing action.  Thus, Paul adds a second important word or phrase when he writes, "until he comes."  It has the implication of doing something repeatedly until the goal is reached.  It presents the picture of a group of people who are persistent against all odds, faithful in all circumstances, and determined that come hell or high water they are going to see this through to the end.

Later in 1 Corinthians 15:58 Paul summarizes all of this by saying, "Be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord."  Let us, therefore, continue in this good work of proclaiming the Lord's death until he comes.

We Need a Drummer

A communion meditation by Judy Sobba at Twin Oaks Christian Church, Eugene, on January 1, 2012.

One side of our church's reader board recently had what some would consider a strange statement.  Our son Scott, a pastor, saw it recently and chuckled.  He thought it was funny.  It says simply, "We need a drummer."  He understood it and so do our members but I wonder what non-members think of it?  There are church signs all over town that make perfect sense, but this one says, "we need a drummer."  Of course, it refers to our praise band whose regular drummer is at home in Portland while the University is on vacation.

Mike and Susan and I were talking about this and it started us thinking.  Yes!  We do need a drummer.

What does a drummer do?  Keeps the beat so we can stay together when we sing or dance.  Keeps us going when we tire, like a military drummer.  Marching bands, when running around the field, if they can hear the drummer, will end up in the correct place, while keeping the beat the whole time.  Drummers, along with the drum major leading a parade, inspire us.

Now it is a New Year, a new start, a blank page.  But every day of every year, we need a drummer, our own personal, spiritual drummer.

We have a drummer, of course, and he is Jesus Christ.  His word helps us find the "beat in our lives," if we listen.  He keeps us going when we tire.  He keeps us moving together as Christians toward a common goal -- salvation.  He leads us in this troubled world and in our lives so that we don't get lost in all of our running around.  As Psalm 18:3 says, "I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised; and so shall I be saved from my enemies."

We will follow our drummer, our Lord Jesus Christ.  We will listen to his word.  We will find the beat and rhythm for our lives.  We will worship, study, work, and pray with others to move together in faith.  Even if we scatter in all direction at times, like the University of Oregon marching band, the steady beat of God's Word can keep us from getting lost.  We only need to listen carefully, pray with faith, act with sincerity and honesty, and trust that God is leading us.

May we listen and pray now as we recall that when Jesus lived on this earth, he gave his apostles continual guidance and reassurance and then, on the night before he died, he said, "Take this bread and eat it for this is my body," and "take this cup and drink.  Do this in remembrance of me."  And so the beat goes on!

THE CRADLE AND THE CROSS

Luke 2:25-35

I love the Christmas lights although some go overboard with lavish, non-stop displays.  On the news last week was the man near Portland who lived next door to someone who had done just that.  He could not compete and so he had a neon sign made that said simply "ditto," with an arrow pointing at his neighbor's display.  I like the music of Christmas too, and the emphasis on rejoicing.  But we now are before the communion table that reminds us there is pain involved in this season.  It reminds us that Jesus was born to die. It reminds us that the cradle in a stable is joined by the cross on a hill as symbols that summarize who Jesus was and why he came.  They can never be separated.

We realize this when we read all of Luke's account of Jesus birth and infancy.  In the first two chapters of Luke we see the beauty in the story of Jesus' birth -- Mary's song, his birth in a manger, angels singing, and shepherds praising.  But then Luke tells us a story that foreshadows the pain and suffering of the cross, not just for Jesus, but also for his mother, Mary.  Shortly after Jesus was born Mary and Joseph took him to the temple to "present him to the Lord," since the law stated that every first born male belonged to the Lord.  There they came across an old man named Simeon who had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he saw the Lord's Messiah.  I can imagine him slightly bent with age, a staff in one hand, long white beard, perhaps with some spittle dripping, but with sharp, piercing eyes.  He startled many a mother as he suddenly confronted her and lifted a corner of the blanket to look see her child.  When he saw Jesus Simeon took him in his arms, raised his eyes to heaven and declared, "my eyes have seen Your salvation."  But when he handed Jesus back to Mary he said, This baby is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed -- and a sword will pierce even your own soul." 

John Killinger, pastor and professor of preaching, tells how those words were driven into his soul.  He and his family were in Spain, in a museum, standing before one of the great Spanish crucifixion scenes.  The painting, like so many Spanish works of art, was dark and brooding, unlike the sunlit plains of Spain.  Christ hung on the cross.  In the lower foreground a woman knelt.  "Who is that?" asked their six year old.  "That's Mary, Jesus' mother," we explained.  He was quiet for a second or two and then he said, very solemnly, "that must have hurted her."  Since then, Killinger says, "I have not been able to read Simeon's words to Mary, 'a sword will pierce through your own soul also' without remembering that observation" (Fundamentals of Preaching, 121). 

Luke has hardly finished telling the story of Jesus' birth in a stable than he elicits the image of a cross on a hill and the pain and suffering it brought to Mary.  Jesus was born to die.  The cradle and the cross cannot be separated.

At the communion table, as we remember how Jesus suffered on our behalf, may we also remember Mary, and many others, even today, who know him as friend, as teacher, and as Lord who also suffer and who, in some way enter into the pain of the cross.