As your people in ancient times said, YaHWeH eka rophe,
we say today, “Lord our healer,”
and thank you for being present with us this day,
and with families across this county and country
who still hurt because of the loss of a loved one who served us.
Be our healing.

We are grateful that you are with us every day.
Even days when it feels like you are not present,
on painful days, and in trying times,
we know that you are here with us
and care for us.
Be our healing today.

And we trust that you will be with us tomorrow,
whether we are officers or the people they serve and protect.
We do not know all that tomorrow may bring
but we do know that you will go before us
guarding our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus
and giving us the peace that surpasses our understanding—
the peace that is you.
Be our healing in all our tomorrows,
YaHWeH eka rophe, Lord our healer.

AMEN.

The Three Obstacles or What Christ Accomplished

Before what is called “The Fall,” that moment when humanity decided to be disobedient to the will of God, man existed in a sinless and therefore immortal state. He was not cold or hot, or hurt, or aging. He simply existed in the presence of God as his companion—his friend. Sin changed that; it corrupted us. Not only was humanity now subject to the elements and decay but, more importantly, was no longer a fit companion of the Almighty. Man had become spiritually corrupted by his actions.

Man’s disobedience to God (eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil) separated him from his Creator. Because he was spiritually sullied, he was no longer fit for the eternity for which God had prepared him. Heaven was now off-limits to humanity. Consequently, the fellowship God had created could no longer be.

You and I are not guilty of the same disobedience as Adam but we are indeed tainted. Thanks to him, the whole line is born into corruption and we are susceptible to our own disobedience. We prove this each day and join with countless “holy” men and women of days gone by in being unable to pay for our own sins—let alone for the offenses of everyone else. We cannot reverse the effects of the fall of humankind. Indeed, the sad fact has always been that any personal holiness was temporary; it would not last a lifetime, let alone an eternity.

The Law was given to help man lead holy lives but not even the likes of King David could keep the Law. Even God-ordained sacrifices of animals merely provided temporary absolution but no permanent fix for man’s predicament.

Just as God provided law and sacrifice, he provided a graciously, permanent solution. Because of his intense love for his creation, God sent his Son as a new and final sacrifice for man’s disobedience. Jesus, God himself, came to us in the same flesh as we possess. But he was no issue of the old Adam. Instead he came by the Holy Spirit of God. Though he was flesh and it was possible for him to sin, God assuming human nature, gave it a new nature—a nature like his own. Just as the first Adam gave sin to his offspring, so did the Second Adam (Christ Jesus) give humanity the potential through adoption—not child bearing—to share in this new creation.

One obstacle has been cleared by Christ. He overcame apparent fate by restoring our potential as spiritual beings. Two obstacles have yet to be cleared: sin and death. Jesus overcame sin by becoming that same kind of animal sacrifice instituted in the Law. The sentence for sin is death. Yet our deaths would not permit God to enjoy the fellowship of those he created to be his friends. A better death was necessary—a death that would end all deaths.

Jesus, both God and man, was sinless. Nevertheless, he was condemned to death—not just by his contemporaries but by Adam and in a very real sense, by our sin. He had to die to pay for our sins if he wanted to call us friends forever. As God, Jesus took upon himself the sentence for man’s sins. With that innocent God-man, the invoice for what humanity owed God was nailed to the cross. God paid the debt man never could. Jesus died in our stead so that we could be freed from the curse of sin. Death is the only payment for sin in God’s economy and Jesus paid the bill.

God restored the potential of humanity and paid the penalty of sin which was death. The second obstacle to eternal friendship with God has now been cleared. However, one last obstacle remains: death itself. The Apostle Paul states it well: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. (1 Corinthians 15:22-23 ESV) All of humanity is subject through Christ to live forever via resurrection (being raised from the dead to live again). Still, this resurrection only happens for those who “belong to Christ.”

Just as man was capable of failing God in days gone by, he is capable of missing the mark today too. The mark is not high—not so high as to be considered an obstacle or a hurdle. Too many miss it, nevertheless. The mark, though not high, is wide. One has merely to open his arms wide enough to receive the embrace God has offered. “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23 ESV) In the offering of this free gift of eternal life, God removed the third obstacle.

Friendship with the Almighty Father is a matter of receiving a gift. This is accomplished through faith—believing what Christ has accomplished for you. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” (Ephesians 2:8 ESV) Real faith leads to the commencement of that eternal friendship in the here and now. It leads to a life of devotion and service—the beginning of friendship forever. But it all began with God in Christ breaking down the three obstacles to that divine companionship.

Matthew 7-9 First off, “Axe and it shalbe geven you.” (Mat 7:7) Tyndale consistently uses “axe” instead of “ask” — at least thus far in Matthew. Perhaps this usage that is so often credited to Ebonics is in its roots, not a West African or Caribbean or even United States slave word, as much as an Old English term that carried over into the dialect of the southern plantations. It is ironic that what some people have denounced as ignorance may actually be highbrow in its origins.

“Even” is used for “evening” in Mat 8:16. This is an out-of-use term even in the Church where it is typically only used as italicized in this sentence. In the English-speaking Church of Tyndale’s time, “even” was the updated spelling of the Older English “æfen.” When you know what “æven” meant, it is easier to understand. Think of it in terms of Christmas Æven or Christmas Eve(ning). Æven or even means eve or evening. Æven was the original term and became “æfnian,” “æfenung,” and “æfnung,” both meaning that time of day that was becoming evening. Since the Anglo-Saxon “æfnen” is related to “æfer” (after), it may simply be that evening is that time of day after daylight.

Another older English term related to “æfen” is “æfentid” or “eventide,” which is similar to words like Christmastide and Yuletide — words that have pretty much fallen out of use even in the Church. “Tide” in those words means a particular point in time or a division of time. Thus the tides are those points in the day when one may expect higher waters at the beach. One may also be “tidy,” referring to seasonal cleaning (Spring cleaning). But I digress. Back to Tyndale.

Another word in this chapter (Mat 8:19) that at first seems related to “æfer” above is “whythersumever.” It comes down to us in the King James as “whithersoever” and in today’s usage as “wherever.” The “ever” part of “wherever” is based on “æfre” and so, I want to make it relate to “æfer,” and it may be somewhere along the line. But whereas “æfer” means after, the “æfre” of “whythersumever” means “always.” So wherever and whithersoever and whythersumever suggest that the scribe in this text promised to always be where Jesus went.

I like the always quality of “ever”; it escaped me when connected with the first part of the compound. Words like eternity seem like they could be related. Maybe evernity was too tough to say.

“Palsey” is a word you don’t hear much, if ever, these days. Tyndale uses it in Mat 9:2. The King James uses “palsy” and the English Standard Version “paralytic.” Palsey seems to be a shortening of the Latin paralysis (paralysis).

Though blasphemes or “Blasphemeth” (Mat 9:3) is falling out of usage, it is still a word many people know in some general sense. What is the etymology? The second word of the compound is easiest.”Pheme” means to make utterance and is related to “fame,” to make a report about someone’s reputation. “Blas” is not certain. It might come from blax, meaning slack in body or mind. If so, then blasphemy would essentially be a stupid comment. And that look into the old puts a whole new understanding of the word.

I do not know why I never stopped to figure out what “publican” means (Mat 9:10) but it is simply one who collects the public revenue. I also never thought about “righteous” until I saw “rightewes.” (Mat 9:13) The word is a combination of right and wise, the first meaning “just” and the second, “manner” or “way.” So if you are righteous you act in a just manner.

“Form Follows Function”
Philippians 2:5-11
a sermon preached March 28, 2010

One of my favorite characters in a novel or movie is Howard Roark of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead. Ironically it was a best-selling novel in 1943. It is ironic not only because it was rejected by 12 publishers but because it is about a character and a subject that flies in the face of everything common and therefore easy. We do not usually like to purchase those things that call us common or point out our flaws so distinctly. But in this bestseller, society is nothing more than herded cattle. The story’s protagonist however, is anything but cattle; he is the archetypal cowboy—though in fact an architect by trade. Howard Roark may seem individualistic or even a loner but being an individual is not his quest. His quest makes him stand out from the crowd. His vision is not only artistic but acutely personal and as such it touches every facet of his brilliant life. He is not afraid to be alone or different or even shunned and misunderstood. But he is concerned about being wrong, or rather, about doing it right. He is certain of his quest and will fulfill it, however modestly society dictates, without wavering.

Howard Roark is an architect who will not recreate things of the past or design so-called modern buildings that are adorned with ancient facades so as to make them acceptable to the public and to critics. He refuses to give the public what it wants and instead gives them what they need, through they do not yet know and may never understand their need. His designs are crisp and true and completely new; they stand out like the drawings of an adult compared to a child. He has no equal and there are few who understand him.

Ayn Rand may indeed have been writing about Frank Lloyd Wright or she may have been writing about an idealized, even romantic notion of what man could be. I like to think she was talking about the model man who had broken free of tradition, the shape of what the human spirit could look like if it became what it was meant to be instead of what it had always been.

With that thought it mind, I would like to shift gears and leave Howard Roark behind us. He is not perfect; far from it. And he would not have us follow him or try to be like him if he even existed. But there was a maxim within the story that made him who he was, that made his building what they were. If we pull that maxim (the title of this sermon) into view, we see another character emerge—one we can and should follow and one who said, “Follow me.” His life was one that stood out, was individual, unparalleled, new, decisive, and passionate. More movies have been made about him, more books written, and more buildings designed than for any other being. Justly so.

What makes Jesus Christ so unusual is not that he is God or man or even God and man. It is not his teachings of themselves or his manner of life or his times. The beauty and the allure of Jesus for me is that the the form of his life followed its function so purely. Yes, Jesus was God and he could have called down 10,000 or so angels to straighten out the human mess by scorching the earth with the fire of divine wrath. But his function on earth urged him to give up his divinity for awhile, and take the form of a servant instead of a god. He could easily have taken the powerful form of any Roman deity and had followers in the millions. But his function was not to mimic the old ways; his task was to lead us into new life. Because his function was so well defined, the form of his life followed.

Jesus did not come to earth to be a good teacher, a moral guide, a lesser deity in a Trinitarian panoply, a political revolutionary, or any of the many molds men have tried to make him fit. Jesus came to be a servant of the Almighty God, one who would lead us back into the company of his Father God. And so, Jesus did not found schools, though tens of thousands of schools have been dedicated to him. He did not publish a rule book though countless books about his teachings have been written. He did not aspire to be God but emptied himself of divinity, though he has been exalted and given a name that will bring every knee low and cause every tongue to confess that he is God.

This is overlooked because of our English translations. The word kurios used here in verse 11 and elsewhere in the New Testament is the same word used in the Old Testament when the penmen were endeavoring to be reverent. In the Septuagint, that great Greek copy of the Old Testament scriptures that was the Apostles’ Bible and even Jesus’, they would not write out the name of God, Yahweh. Instead, they wrote the Greek word Kurios or Kyrios, a word that translates as “Lord” but means “one that exercises supernatural authority over mankind.” Over 5,700 times Kurios is substituted for Yahweh (or more accurately for YHWH). This practice is carried over into the New Testament and is seen here juxtaposed: the idea of Jesus emptying himself of divinity in verse seven and being extolled as God in verse 11. But Jesus did not come here to be a powerful and compelling god.

Jesus could also have set up a new human form of government and demanded  civil obedience but he did not because it was not his function, though some like to think that there is at least one form of government that is supposed to be godly. Those whose lives are wrapped up in this pretense of a Christian government are lost to an exercise of futility. One may try to live right and govern rightly but life is not ultimately about either morality of government. Life is about following Jesus. But where? The “where to” is the function that the form of Jesus’ life took shape around.

Everything about Jesus’ life was about showing us the Father, showing us the way to his Father, and finally making a way for us to God our Father. The form of Jesus’ life followed this function with each step of his short life. Were it not so, we would have a world government today that follows Jesus. This is what the devil tempted him with in the wilderness when he said he could have all the kingdoms of the world if he would just bow to Satan’s will instead of his Father’s plan to save us. But Jesus’ life had a function, a purpose, and he would follow it no matter what form that function dictated. Were it not so, we would have a religion of power that serves his needs instead of a way of life that serves the needs of others. This is what the devil tempted him with when he said make these stones become bread. But the form of Jesus’ life shows the way that leads to the Father and not to self. Were it not so, we would have an unreal, Utopian sort of world where nothing can hurt us and nothing ever goes wrong. This is what the devil tempted Jesus with when he said throw yourself off the pinnacle of the Temple and God will have his angels bear you up. But the purpose of Jesus was not to test his Father’s love but to show us that love through a form of life that loved us most completely.

And so Jesus came to die because form follows function in the life of the Savior. Jesus’ life and thus, his death follow the form of God’s love. For no other reason did he die. He did not die for the mob wish. He did not die for the Pax Romana. He did not die to shame us for killing a good man or a moral guide. He died because of a Father’s love. He died because it was his purpose that in dying death would die. And so, for the believer, death is not dying; it is to live forever in the fellowship and love of God.

Have this mind, this attitude, this function in your own life.

I was just watching a History Channel program called “Clash of the Gods.” In the one about Thor, Michael Drout, Professor of English at Wheaton College talks about similarities between part of the Thor mythology and the Christian book of “Revelations.” Really? RevelationS? Have you read the book? Even the narrator got it right.

Pluralizing Revelation drives me battier than people who say nuke-yuh-ler or ree-uhl-i-tor (and ree-uhl-i-tee)…or “your” in trouble when you talk about subjects that betray “you’re” lack of scholarship.

Sorry for the rant. These television authorities drive me crazy. However, the episode about Beowulf was engaging.

(The Hubble galaxy photograph(s) above is of “Thor’s Helmet.” And on a lesser note, a movie about the Marvel comics version of the son of Odin is due out in 2011.)

“We’ve Got to Do Something About This”
Philippians 3:4b-14
a sermon preached March 21, 2010, at Graham Friends

Last Sunday the worship team was practicing before Sunday School when Christian Corbett came into the sanctuary. The expression on his face was serious, even concerned. He had been upstairs with his sister and she had evidently done something that did not sit right with him. I couldn’t understand what he was saying about his sister’s actions because of the music being played. But it was clear that he was aggravated. At that point we finished playing the song and I could hear him say, while he put his hands on his hips, “We’ve got to do something about this!”

After I stopped laughing, I turned to Angela and said, “That’s next week’s sermon title. I don’t care what the text is.” The next day I began studying for the following Sunday and found that the text is one of my favorites, containing Philippians 3:9-10, “…and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith — that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”

Have you ever read a scripture and know there was something of a vastness and depth that you would spend your whole life exploring and trying to understand. That is where I have stood with those few verses of Paul to the Philippians for 35 years. The rest of the verse has plenty for me to learn yet but I know that there is something profound in sharing Christ’s sufferings that has perhaps eluded me all these years. And if I really, really wanted to know it and share in it with my Lord, I might put my hands on my hips and say, “We’ve got to do something about this!” But sometimes we are content (or at last I am) to remain mystified by how sacred and inexplicable scripture sounds.

But before we move into that one phrase that has for so long evaded me, let’s look at the rest of these verses. The Apostle Paul bragged about his pedigree to make an important point. I will now do the same. I was born into a Christian family. My father was an educator and my mother an avid reader and they made sure I was given a good education and lots of books to read. I was baptized in the Lutheran Church and worshiped there in a full church with my family after attending Sunday School each week. I made use of the literature table, becoming acquainted with Daily Bread and The Upper Room at a very young age. I remember buying for a dime my very first devotional when I was perhaps seven or eight years old. I hungered after the mysteries of God even then. A few years later I was taught how to pull the rope in the bell tower and move with it’s recoil so that even peals of the bell would sound between Sunday School and worship. Later, I was taught Luther’s catechism. By the way, this was the long catechism, not the brief one. I learned about and memorized the Ten Commandments, The Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles and Nicene Creeds. I learned how to take communion without the wafer sticking to the roof of my mouth. I also learned how to eat at what you call carry-ins but we accurately called potlucks. How blessed I have been as a Christian to eat often and much from the tables of the homes of so many. My mom was a great cook but I got to eat the offerings of hundreds of good cooks and bakers. God richly blessed me as a boy with a fine education, a good home, a variety and plenty to eat and so much more.

But somewhere along the line, something must have happened at St Luke Lutheran Church because my parents and sisters stopped going. Was it because they got a new pastor? Was some need not met by the folks, the pastor, or God? Did someone say something that seemed uncharitable to one of my mom? They never said but I know something happened.

This I do know: I didn’t want whatever it was that happened to them to happen to me. I wanted to keep going to St Luke. I do not know what the mystery there was for me; but it was there and I did not want to lose touch with it. Was it the potlucks I kept attending in the church basement by myself, now a 12-year-old? Carry-ins still appeal to me today. Was it the literature table in the narthex? It certainly held an appeal to me. Was it my Sunday School class, now a group of Junior High School students. I have to admit that Kristie Grote held a certain appeal but then I found out we were related. Probably it was for the best. I did not ring the bell anymore. Catechism classes were long over but I do remember the lessons to this day. Was it the Supper of a waxy wafer and grape juice that was the mystery? Perhaps more than I realize.

Today that building is empty. It was abandoned perhaps 20-years ago and the windows boarded up. It now sits at the edge of a crawling landscape of construction where a new city hospital and accompanying doctors’ offices and parking lots are being built where many square miles of houses, restaurants, and other businesses have been torn down. But St. Luke remains; and I am glad, sad as it is to see that building boarded up and empty.

For an empty building it sure gave me a lot. However, whatever I gained with my family, my education, and even my church, I consider all of those fond memories lost. In fact, they could even be considered a disadvantage. The Greek word Paul uses here in verse seven is zemian, and means just that, “to be put at a disadvantage.” Kansas would have done well last night to consider their whole season a loss, a disadvantage if they depended on it as if to receive some coronation in Indianapolis. Upon what do we depend to receive our crowns? Mommy and daddy took me to church? I was raised in the right denomination? A great education? If you believe these things reason for confidence, then I have more confidence than all of you! I have never left the church. In fact, I’ve been a member of so many churches I have lost count. I have taught so many Sunday School classes and youth groups, even when I was not a pastor, that I can’t keep their faces straight in my memories anymore. I have pastored four churches. I am finishing a second Masters degree for a church that does not even require an education. I am, as my father-in-law used to love to say (and I used to love to hear, if he wasn’t saying it about me), “educated beyond my intelligence.”

Are these things reason for confidence before the judgment seat of God? May I go before God and say that I have degrees and pastored churches and tithed and stayed faithful to one wife and weathered insult for the Name and was zealous for his word and that on the basis of these things he should throw open the doors and set out a feast for someone as wonderful as I?

Rubbish! These things are actually a disadvantage to many simply because they do put so much stock in them. But what must one do to be saved? I mean, if I have done so much and so many have done even more than I and it’s all simply a disadvantage, then we find that we cannot “do something about this.”

God has done something about this. He has called us his Friends. He has invited us into a relationship with him whereby we can enjoy him through a knowledge of his Son (verse 8). You may take away my memories, and my family, and my education, and pastorate and chaplaincy. But leave me one thing: Jesus. I count everything as loss, disadvantage, rubbish, dung (as the King Jimmy puts it) for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. If I may gain Christ, all else is loss. And if I count on those other things, I am placed at a disadvantage that makes me a friend of me, not Christ. It is his righteousness that I depend upon — not my own moral or religious righteousness. My righteousness does not come from keeping the Law, from denominational headquarters, from educational institutions, from overworking, being a good husband, or a good person. My righteousness before God is a gift that comes through faith; it depends on God by faith alone — not education, position in life, or the approval of men. Faith. That’s all. Faith in what Jesus Christ did for me that I could never do for myself.

Now I know you know all of this but you must be reminded often. We forget the things we know and begin to depend on things that hold no promise. We must hold to what we have been given so that we may gain Christ and his resurrection. We must hold to Christ and be clothed with his righteousness and not the rags that are our successes or failures. This means that the moral realities that are your own life will not be the basis of some heavenly fashion show. If you show up dressed in your own righteousness then you will indeed have some fine clothes on but they will also be stained by your lies and hypocrisy and other sins. You will be wearing the latest designer fashions of the Church but they will be ripped, stained, frayed, and soiled. But if you are clothed with Christ, if you depend on his righteousness, you will be resplendent before God’s throne because you will look like the Son and not the sorry son you know you really are.

In fact, it is in the admission of this dismal condition that one may finally come to a knowledge of the resurrection. It is in a continuing dependence upon his suffering for you instead of your own religious suffering that attains the resurrection from the dead. And so, this favorite mystical sounding verse of mine simply and profoundly means a disregard for my imperfect piety and an abiding in the sufferings of Christ for me. The only sure method for pressing on (Php 3:14) is to try to do as well as one can but not lose composure in failure — because fail you will. When you focus upon yourself, whether on your successes or your failures, your life gets out of focus. If you are looking at yourself, you are going to end up walking into trouble. Refocus on the one who suffered and died for your inadequacies and rose from the dead so that you could be raised with him in glory. That is the only way I know of whereby you may press on to the goal. Forget what lies behind — what you have or have not done — and look to what he has done. Share in those sufferings of his for you instead of manufacturing your own and you will discover that he has already done something about which you could never do.

“No Mumblin’ Word”
Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12
October 4, 2009

Since I was a young man, I have had difficulty hearing out of  my right ear. When I get hearing tests, they tell me nothing is wrong but still, if my right ear is toward you and you don’t speak loudly enough, chances are, I am not going to hear you. And it is irritating. Not just to me but I’m sure it is annoying to those who are trying to speak to me.

Very often this is the way it goes in the Ryman home: Honey, would you like me to pack you a lunch? Then a moment later: Well, would you like me to pack you a lunch? To which I get the reply: I told you I wanted a Lean Cuisine and a yogurt. And my continuing reply is, “If you want me to hear you, you have to speak up.” To make matters worse, sometimes her response is further concealed by a hair blower. All the more reason to speak up!

Recently, suspecting a lack of attention on my part, I have asked the question and then looked in to see and hear a response. The times I have looked, it is barely audible. In fact, it is sometimes mumbled. So let me go on record to say, “Honey, I am still going to fix you a lunch even if you mumble. But if you really want to be heard, you cannot mumble.”

Now sometimes, if you really want to be heard, you must not say a thing, as in the old spiritual:

They led Him to Pilate’s bar
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word
They led Him to Pilate’s bar
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word
They led Him to Pilate’s bar
But He never said a mumblin’ word
Not a word, not a word, not a word, not a word

Jesus allowed himself for our sake to be led as a sheep to the slaughter. But he also spoke the truth before Pilate. When asked who he was, he directly answered.

In the history of salvation, God’s people have very often him speak under the cover of a less anachronistic noise than a hair dryer. God spoke in ages past through prophets. Those prophets often seem to mumble. Ezekiel is especially “mumbly.”

As I looked, behold, a stormy wind came out of the north, and a great cloud, with brightness around it, and fire flashing forth continually, and in the midst of the fire, as it were gleaming metal. And from the midst of it came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance: they had a human likeness, but each had four faces, and each of them had four wings. Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf’s foot. And they sparkled like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. (Ezekiel 1:4-8b)

I’ll stop there because I’m sure you get the point. You have to really concentrate—even study—to understand what Ezekiel is saying. Ezekiel is not alone amongst the prophets or for that matter, the Apostles. John was particularly challenging, at least if you are reading Revelation. Sadly, Luther found it such a puzzle that he advocated tossing it out of the canon of scripture. He said, “Christ is neither taught nor known in it.” Calvin thought it should be canonized but in my complete set of Calvin’s Commentaries, the last book upon which he comments is Jude. God has spoken to us through prophets and Apostles and through pastors and teachers but nowhere does he speak so clearly as when Jesus spoke.

The words of Jesus are not mumbled. Even when his disciples had difficulty  comprehending him, he stopped to make matters clear. When Jesus spoke in parables, those men and women who hung on his every word were often confused. So he would lovingly chastise them, When are you going to understand? Then he would spell it all out. The parable of the sower and the seed is a good example.

And when a great crowd was gathering and people from town after town came to him, he said in a parable: “A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.” As he said these things, he called out, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” And when his disciples asked him what this parable meant, he said, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God, but for others they are in parables, so that ‘seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.’ Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience. (Luke 8:4-15)

So why speak in the parable at all? Why not just jump to the explanation? Have you noticed that in this parable, if you were asked to tell the story, you would tell about how the seed fell on the different types of ground and may not even tell about the explanation? And if you give the explanation, you have to think about the parable first. This is similar to attending college. Every professor is going to give you books to read. Then the next class, they will tell you what you read. Why not just skip to the lecture? Because it is the combination of reading and listening that makes the subject clearer.

Nevertheless, professors find it still isn’t clear to some of their students. I am just such a case because professors often mumble. I read the assignments and go to the lectures and end up saying, “If you want me to hear you, you have to speak up.” Of course, what I mean is, Tell me in way that makes sense in my world. I had one professor, who after explaining some theological conundrum, just to be sure his slower students understood, would recall a scene from The Simpsons cartoon the night before, and say, “I guess it’s sort of like that.” It is troubling how many times I was then found to go, “Ohhhhh!”

In ages past God spoke through the prophets and people were puzzled. When Jesus, who is the very image of God, came and taught the multitudes that he was the “radiance of the glory of God,” some people were disturbed; they just could not or would not hear it. But many people were finally saying, “Ohhhhh.” When God spoke through his Son, the mumbling of former times ceased.

For those who are disturbed because you think the Old Testament makes perfect sense and never was a mumblin’ word spoken there, let me say two things. One, you better understand the Old Testament because of Jesus. How can you fully understand some of the Psalms (just to mention one book) without Jesus? How incompletely the ancients understand Psalm 22—“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1) “They have pierced my hands and feet—I can count all my bones—they stare and gloat over me; they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.” (Psalm 22:16b-18) or perhaps the question is better stated, how else can one more fully understand these verses than with Jesus’ explanation of the prophetic parable?

The other thing, if you think the Old Testament doesn’t sometimes mumble, is that when you decide Ezekiel’s visions make perfect sense, get back to me about whether he was “mumbling” or not. In Jesus, however, we have no mumblin’ word. He is clear. So why not just begin with him and be done with it? The prophets are the homework that make the lecture called Jesus clear. For example, the Old Testament slowly develops the idea of a need for a gracious Messiah. Even by Jesus’ time, the Jews were simply looking for someone anointed of God to deliver them from their Roman oppressors. But in Jesus, people began to understand that it was not the Roman Empire that oppressed them, it was their sin. It takes awhile for the truth to become clear—especially when you have been wandering in your darkness. The truth was always there but it was not spoken clearly enough or with an illustration sufficient to make one exclaim, “Ohhhhh!”

This illustration may be a bit off for moderns because of digital photography but the photographic darkroom is a good example of what the writer of Hebrews is saying. I used to sometimes find rolls of film I had forgotten to develop. Sometimes a month or so after shooting a roll, I would develop it and make prints. Very often, the reverse image of the negative only made what I had shot even less clear. When I enlarged the image in the red safe-light of the darkroom, I still might not perceive what image I had shot. Then I put the white photo-paper into the developing tray and slowly sloshed the liquid over and under the paper. Gradually a black and white image would begin to appear and awareness would steal over me.

What I had been seeing very small and backwards in the dark was now large and clear in the light. If I had set up the shot correctly and exposed the film just right, I could remember the day, who I was with, and even the emotions behind why I shot the photograph. If I shot, developed, and printed well, others also could see my impression of that moment in time.

The four-color process of printing is another good example—but one that computer printers have already made obsolete. Yet I hope I never forget the wonder of printing a photograph with four colors of ink for my first time. It was a photograph of the head of a lion with his great mane. I had to print it with cyan, magenta, yellow, and black inks. To do it right, you have to first imprint the yellow ink before the blue and red and finally black inks. Thin yellow squiggles on white paper are difficult to make out; sometimes they are almost invisible to the naked eye. Then the blue and red inks are added one color at a time and the plain white paper miraculously transforms into something that looks almost real. Black is then printed and the contrasting tone makes it pop! I was giddy. I could not get over the marvel of a process that made four different negatives and printing plates—that by themselves just looked like black-and-white illustrations—come to life. The process is important if one is to marvel at the result.

From the beginning, God made us for himself and to enjoy his company. He also created us to share his glory. He simply gave it to us in the garden but we did not comprehend and asked by eating forbidden fruit, Is this all there is? Then he spoke to us in burning bushes and whirlwinds and pillars of fire. These colorful expressions but not always easy to understand.

Eventually he communicated through prophets—sometimes condemning and other times a bit perplexing. But in these last days, God has articulated himself to us through a Son. God has made perfectly clear what millennia of religious teachings have obscured. The writer of Hebrews uses an excellent word to express this with clarity. Verse three of our lesson says that Jesus is the “exact imprint” of God’s nature. The Greek word used in Hebrews 1:3 is charakter, and is used to explain things like stamping out a copy of a coin or could be used, I suppose, in the darkroom as well. Printing presses can also reproduce perfect copies. But in Jesus, the die is broken. Indeed, this metaphor fails to do him justice even if it helps us understand who he is.

My prints were not the people I photographed. The sheets of paper were not litters of lions. But Jesus is a striking impression of God. In that man from Nazareth of Galilee was the very nature of both God and man. The essence of the Father was struck into Jesus. If that were not the case, then his life and death were in vain.

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James 5:13-20
September 27, 2009

Augustine, the fourth century Bishop of the Church in Hippo, Africa (modern-day Annaba, Algeria), said, “Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart is restless till it rest in Thee.” This seems related to the much older rabbinical teaching that a man cannot be healed until he deals with his sins. The Jews had a basic tenet that we learned about in our midweek Bible classes earlier this year. Yes, I am about to quiz my students once again. This is not a rhetorical question; I am somewhat eager to know if things I have taught by saying over and over again and giving examples from scripture and life actually soak in. So if you know the answer, say it out loud. Here we go…

What is the name of the code wherein it is stated that if you do good, you will receive blessing and if you do evil, you will receive curse? If you need a hint, recall that I referred to it as more of a principle than a formula.

Well, I’d hoped more had remembered but that’s the way it goes in seminary classes too. The professors always hope more students know the answers than it turns out do, so you are, I suppose, in excellent company. It doesn’t only happen in Church Bible classes that students don’t recall the answers at quiz time.

The answer to my question is the Deuteronomistic code or more precisely, if you listened closely, the Deuteronomistic principle. This principle states that God will bless those who do good and curse those who do evil. The early paragraphs of Deuteronomy 28 spell it out and give examples. Job and other places in scripture give exceptions to the rule. But it is a rule nonetheless. God gets to break his own rules, if there is a greater purpose in doing so. For example, Job’s religious actions caused him to think, at least somewhat, that his religion was the source of his blessing. This is always a danger. God however—though he was proud of Job’s devotion—wanted more than mere religion for Job. So he broke his “rule” to get to the “principle” within the rule. Religion is supposed to bring us face-to-face with God, not simply make us religious or even better people. This principle within the Deuteronomistic “rule” is at the heart of today’s New Testament and Gospel lessons and the object of my sermon.

We heard the disciples in Mark 9:38-50 tell Jesus that they were ostracizing people who didn’t follow them. They were not at all concerned about people following Jesus or even teaching Jesus. Their concern was that some fellow they had encountered was casting out demons and doing so in Jesus’ name—but wasn’t following them! (Mar 9:38) This is what happens immediately in what is only religion. Do it our way or hit the highway. The disciples had to be corrected right away. This isn’t to say that there is not sometimes a heresy in the ranks that must be addressed, but if somebody is a Baptist or a Lutheran instead of a Quaker, well, “the one who is not against us is for us.” (Mar 9:40)

Then Jesus gets to the core of their problem—and it was the problem they had always displayed. They wanted to be the leaders, the bosses, or what amounts to demigods or demons or the ubermensch (supermen) of others. They wanted to call the shots and in so doing, they were basically stating a new code—a demonic one—instead of the Deuteronomistic principle. Do it my way or be cursed. Sound familiar?

But even in religion, people who perfectly act out the religious code still get sick and die. This is because “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom 2:12) And there you see that ultimately, the code works. You do evil, you get cursed; you sin, you die. But what about the sickness that precedes dying?

The week before I went on vacation, I worked over 70 hours for this church. That is fairly religious, wouldn’t you say? Then I went on vacation and got sick. Where’s the fairness in that?! Job would cry out. I did what you wanted me to do and I get cursed. Let me be honest with you: sometimes I feel just like Job did. Why doesn’t our church grow more numerically? I’ve been faithful. I’ve taught people the word. I am faithful even when I don’t feel like doing this anymore. Even in the face of adversity and supposed defeat, I persevere. So how come there are not more results? Where is the blessing?

Of course, I am making an example and can name for you blessing after blessing that has happened here in these past ten years of service to you and our Lord. But I can just as surely name the defeats. I wonder; are they defeats or should we call them curses? And if they are curses, how do we deal with them before God and his Church?

The Jews have long believed three things that are based on the aforementioned Deuteronomistic code. One, sickness is caused by sin in a person’s life. That is why Job’s so-called comforters or friends insisted Job had sinned. They believed the age-old teaching that if you’re sick, and your loved ones died early, and your crops fail, and your cattle gets stolen, then you must have done something wrong—seriously wrong. And they believed this religiously. Job, on the other hand, believed just as religiously that he had done nothing wrong and therefore, God was in the wrong. He did not say this out loud; but I imagine he was thinking it. Religion always thinks that way. It is faith that dares to think differently. And so my favorite prophet, Habakkuk, says—and I paraphrase like a good Midwesterner: Though apple trees do not blossom and there isn’t a single red strawberry to be found, though the corn rots in the husk and the fields produce no wheat, though the cattle die in the fields and the milking barns dry up…I will shout the triumph of Yahweh, I will jump for joy in the God of my salvation. Lord Yahweh is my strength—not the fertile fields. It is he alone who makes me leap like a buck in the mountain passes. I walk with my God in the heights when all around me are sinking in depression. (Hab 3:17-19) That is faith! But for the moment, let us get back to religion.

The first tenet of the ancient rabbinical teaching, based on the Deuteronomistic code, was that if you seemed cursed you must have sinned. Second, if you wanted to be healed, you need to do two things. The first action was to confess your sins. This is where the New Testament lesson really comes into play. James, of course, knew the teachings of the rabbis. He had himself become a teacher. He was a student of Rabbi Jesus and would be teaching his lessons to his own disciples. So here we see this second tenet come into James’ thoughts. Call on the elders or other righteous people and confess your sins. (Jam 5:16) That is the first half of the teaching. Before we go on with the second half, I want to stress the first half just a bit.

Some would throw out this notion of confession with the Roman Catholic bath water. But to do so is to throw out the baby (Judaism) as well. And to do that is to throw out Jesus. Of course, that would be nothing new to religion. Religious types are always trying to get rid of Jesus. Jesus knew that the casting out of some demons required prayer and others required fasting as well as prayer. (Mat 17:21; Mar 9:29) Here we see that at least persistent sickness may require not only prayer but also confession. James seems to link suffering and sickness with prayer and confession. Now, I am not advocating that we open up a confessional booth in one of the unused Sunday school rooms, or that you go running to an elder in the Meeting every time you come down with a cold. Still, in early Methodism, the Wesley brothers met with the movement a few times each week to, amongst other things, “confess their faults to one another.” (Lee, James Wideman; Luccock, Naphtali; Dixon, James Main, The Illustrated History of Methodism, 85) And no—before you ask it—I am also not advocating confession of sins in Monthly Meetings or Yearly Meetings…though it may do a great deal of good.

So what am I saying? For one, that faith is serious business—much more than our religion typically allows. And for another, that there are sometimes reasons for our illnesses that transcend sneezes, coughs, and lack of rest. Sometimes our illnesses are not just the cold and flu or even cancer and heart disease. At times our illnesses may not even be physical at all. They may be mental or even spiritual. Paul teaches that the whole being is to be made holy, the whole person including spirit, soul, and body. (1Th 5:23) Sometimes our sicknesses are not just physical and perhaps those are the very ones that require fasting and confession along with prayer. Actually, I am not simply suggesting the possibility; I am telling you a spiritual truth. Even more, I will insist to you that these afflictions are ordained of God.

God will stop at nothing to get you out of your religion and back into a right relationship with him. Job’s story (and there are others) proves that is true. So if you are sick or find yourself someday getting ill, in fact sicker and sicker, you may do well to do a little self-diagnosis. Ask yourself, Why am I sick? Why am I tormented? Why does everything I touch fall apart? If you do suspect your actions may be at the root of your illness, you should do this self-diagnostic sooner rather than later because what you have may be contagious. Your illness may spread to your children, your spouse, your friends, and even your church. We affect those around us—no matter how self-righteous we try to make ourselves. Just ask Job’s family if that isn’t the case. Job was not restored to God, nor were his family and fortune restored, until he confessed his sins before both God and man. Notice who was present when he said he was in the wrong. Along with Yahweh were Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, and Elihu. Sometimes, for serious spiritual defects to be dealt with, confession must also be made to men and women—particularly those whom we have sinned against. There is no other way to deal with it. You cannot get around it with religion or rationalization. Truth and confession are necessary to drive away some evil spirits.

But the third tenet of James’, Jesus’, and the rabbis’ teaching is another that you cannot get around. You must not only deal with yourself in admission of sin and with others in confession of it, you must also deal with God if you are going to deal with sin-sickness. And so, you must pray. You cannot stop with what you can do; you must ultimately rely on what God can do. This is done in the prayer closet. When you have admitted that something is wrong and that you may be or are the cause, and have confessed your participation or even collusion, then pray. Perhaps pray with fasting just to err on the side of serious faith. But prayer is not just for the sinner. Indeed, it seems especially suited to those who are righteous and seasoned in the faith. Pray, fast, and believe in the power of God that mysteriously acts through your prayers. Tennyson wrote, “Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer/Than this world dreams of.” (Van Dyke, Henry Jackson, An Introduction to the Poems of Tennyson, 89) James knew this and reminds us of Elijah’s powerful supplications.

The Lord caused it to rain after a drought that lasted three and a half years. But he did so only after the prophet had prayed. Is there a condition you know of that affects many, a spiritual dryness or even a drought? Deal with it! Do some soul-searching. Confess what God reveals—at least to him and in very serious cases to the ones you have wronged and to those who are able to help you recover. And if you are aware of someone else’s sickness, pray for all God is worth. Your prayers may restore that person to a right relationship to God and his Church, just as Elijah’s prayer restored the rain. Elijah’s prayer restored the balance of nature. Your prayers may restore a soul to the Kingdom.

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“Where Have You Been?”
James 3:1-12
September 13, 2009
Homecoming Sunday

Mark Twain once said that “it is better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.” He probably shouldn’t have said that since it very likely offended someone. It is so easy to say the wrong thing or to have someone take what you say the wrong way—the way you didn’t intend it to be taken. A friend said the other day that someone might as well not even work where she worked since they rarely came to work anyway. I looked at her like I couldn’t believe what she had just said. She looked back at me and said without pausing, “I didn’t mean that to sound ugly; I was just stating the truth.”

The great American architect, Frank Lloyd Wright said, “The truth is more important than the facts.” Many Westerners have a difficult time with his claim because we associate the truth with facts. But we should know better. American politicians especially, but also newscasters have been infamous for twisting the facts into their version of the truth. Evidently this spinning of the facts into a distortion of the truth that is sometimes maddeningly difficult to argue with was prevalent when our 16th president was in office. Abraham Lincoln rightly said, “How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four; calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg.” The premise we begin with affects the outcome. We may say, “Well, the facts are ma’am, that this here appendage is not a tail; it’s a leg.” But everyone knows it’s a tail.

Pontius Pilate asked what he thought was a rhetorical question when he asked, “What is truth?” when Truth stood right in front of him. Col. Jessup said, “You can’t handle the truth,” when the facts were used against him in the court room. The truth is sometimes hard to come by and oftener difficult to explain. Perhaps that is why the great mathematician and theologian Blaise Pascal explained, “We know the truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart.”

Jesus said, “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” I think he was talking about something other than facts—something that could not be spun by politicians and news folks and attorneys. I think Jesus was speaking of himself when he said we could know the truth. Certainly he wasn’t speaking of being able to cut through the television chatter and determine if the Democrats or the Republicans were the ones telling the truth this year. When he said we could know the truth, he meant that we could know him. Only in knowing Jesus Christ is truth experienced in such a profound manner that it produces liberty—freedom from the tyranny of  fact spinning. This is in part because he is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. There is constancy in God that one will never find in man.

But how do you come upon this great truth called Jesus? Is it by walking to an altar and having a preacher pray over you? Sometimes. But as Joel said (Joel 2:17) and the band Casting Crowns sings, there is a lot that can be undone between the altar and the door…especially if we take our eyes off of the truth and let them linger too long upon those facts called the people around us.

Last week I wore old shorts, a ratty shirt, and running shoes to preach in so that I could provide a visual of what James said in chapter two, that the man who comes into the assembly in shabby clothing ought to be afforded the same, if not better, treatment as the rich man. Someone said after the service, “Preacher, you hit the nail on the head. My grand kids came to church in jeans once and some folks in church spoke poorly of them for it, and they have never come back to this church or any other church again.” You run a great risk when you take your eyes off the truth and let them focus on the facts. It is always detrimental to stop looking at Jesus so that you can keep boring holes into the ones who offended you.

Last Sunday, of course, by dressing the way I did, I ran the risk of offending someone before I even opened my mouth. And of course once I opened this big trap, all bets were off. It seems like every time I have opened my mouth over the 25 years I have been preaching, someone has misunderstood me. Especially in my first church. Margie always took me wrong and went running to the Senior Pastor to tattle for something I did not say. Well, I mean, I did say those things; that is a fact. But the way she took them was not the way I intended their meaning to be perceived. Usually. The truth of the matter was that I loved Margie and would not want to hurt her. Maybe that is why I love being the Chaplain and friend of so many Police officers. It is not that they always understand my meaning; they mostly just don’t care. I guess they have gotten thick skins from dealing with a certain side of the public.

But is James really concerned here with folks misunderstanding the preacher’s intentions or even someone occasionally saying a colorful word when a hammer hits their thumb? I don’t think so—not in the context of the chapter and the previous chapter for that matter. Those are matters, due to time constraints, better left to commentaries. Let me just cut to the chase and offer you what I think is really being said by James, along with what amounts to a side of embellishment and apology by your preacher.

First of all, I want to say that I am so sorry for anything I or anyone else has said to you over the years that may have offended you and chased you away. Certainly there are those kinds of stories in this church’s history. Maybe no one is present today who has been offended here in the past. But if you are or you hear this over the internet, I am sorry. Sometimes, as I said, we open our mouths and all bets are off. I want to encouraging you however, to please not dwell upon me any other Friend. We aren’t the point; neither is what we said the point. Jesus is the point and what he said is what we need to turn our attentions to. We have to get over our feelings, factual as they may be, and get to the crux. Otherwise, we stay mired in our own distorted realities when Jesus said he wanted to liberate us from those facts.

People have said and are going to say boneheaded things—present company included. We are, after all, just people. No one is master over the tongue. We may have mastered car repair or cooking or building cabinets or taking photographs. But no one is master of their tongue. James said that the tongue sets the world on fire and is the rudder that can cause great ships to wreck. “It is a restless evil,” anxious to cause more trouble. He is a willful person who is able to control that fountain; out of it comes fresh and salt, good and evil, blessing and curse.

If we curse another human being, who is made in God’s own image, are we so much maligning that person or God himself? We need to be very careful with these tongues. All of us. But none so much as the teacher. But even Rabbi Jesus could rankle folks. He said things that really stirred the pot. I guess he was speaking the truth in love. Sometimes I suspect he may have been having some fun at the Pharisees’ and Sadducees’ expense. Gloria Steinem said, “The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off. ” The truth does have a way of getting under your skin. It is supposed to. It’s in the job description. So James cannot mean that we should simply be careful not to offend folks. What was he talking about when he said that not many should become teachers?

Teachers were held in the highest regard in that ancient Church. There was no greater honor bestowed upon a family than that they take in their rabbi, taking care of his every need. Therefore people were eager to be teachers. And some of them should never have been teachers. I have had some of those folks as teachers. They couldn’t teach their way out of a wet paper pulpit. I have also been blessed by exceptional teachers and professors. It doesn’t seem to make much difference whether they are young or old but what does make a difference is maturity and experience. Some of the things I said from the pulpit as a young preacher, make me shudder when I think of them. Young preachers and preachers in general should be very careful about what they teach for they will be held more accountable for their words than others. This is because of ripple effect. Some preacher says something to a church and suddenly 100 people take it as gospel and start preaching it. So you better be careful what you say, teachers. That’s what James is saying.

Heresy or false teaching is all-too-easy to get caught up in. It gives you a corner on the truth. In other words, you have a few facts picked up from a verse or maybe a cross reference, if we are really fortunate, and a dogma spewed forth upon all who are unfortunate enough to be nearby. There is none so annoying or dangerous as the one who thinks he knows the truth because he has a single fact in hand. Read whole paragraphs, whole letters, complete books and testaments, indeed, the entire Bible—and that, many times—before pronouncing your doctrines as law upon the Church.

There are people who will not worship with other Believers because they do not use the right English translation. There is no dogma more bland and pathetic. There is no doctrine that sounds any more like that famous doctrine, We’ve never done it that way before and we ain’t changing now, than that one. I defy most Christians to read the original King’s English of 1611 and understand a word of it. And it is not so much because they cannot understand archaic English; it is because they cannot read. Oh, they can read words; they know the facts that G-O-D spells god and that D-O-G spells dog. But do they perceive the truth of what connected words and sentences mean? Most Christians I have known wouldn’t know a metaphor if it clobbered them over the head or the meaning of a parable unless the Rabbi explained it to them. And before you get offended, please understand that is precisely what Jesus had to do for both his disciples and us (in scripture). We are just as numbskulled as Peter ever was. Let us confess it; it may be good for the soul and will certainly be good for the Church and our families.

It is easy to say the wrong thing and just about as easy to teach a heresy, unless we do as James said earlier in his letter. I paraphrase 1:19: Slow down, shut up, and simmer down. But that probably offends someone. And if that didn’t, let’s try this on for size: Television has proved that most of us aren’t even as smart as a fifth grader. So why don’t we just admit it and get over ourselves? No one has a corner on truth—not even teachers and preachers. But we can know the Truth…and he will set us free…if we will keep our eyes on him and off the words of others. Jesus said it well to Peter in today’s gospel lesson, “You’re setting your mind on the things of man, not on the things of God.”

One of my favorite Zen stories has two monks, Tanzan and Ekido, traveling down a muddy road after a heavy rain. Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk komono and sash, unable to cross the intersection. “Come on girl,” said Tanzan. At once he lifted her in his arms and he carried her over the mud.

Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he could no longer restrain himself. “We monks don’t go near females,” he told Tanzan, especially young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?

“I left the girl there,” said Tanzan. “Are you still carrying her?”

What load of “facts” are you carrying? Where have the facts left you? Where has your heart been focused over the years and where has that left you? Where have you been all these years? Some of us are still riled over something someone said or did years ago? You probably misunderstood those facts for truth anyway. And even if you didn’t, there is a greater truth to be learned: Jesus. Some of us have yet to learn the truth. That’s why we are in bondage to someone else’s words. And they probably didn’t mean them anyway.

Where have you been? It’s time to come home. To Jesus.

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