For my theological capstone class on Baptism, I was required to write a sermon. Only caveat? It had to be on baptism.
So the following text is based off of Matthew 3:13-17. Let me know what you think
---
He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching as they recoiled and reacted. John had always been good at this, the controversy, the bizarre appearance, the fiery words. John had already hit his favorite lines, calling the Pharisees and Sadducees vipers, the bit about Israel being a tree cut down, the brutal swipe at what it meant to be a child of Abraham. John was in good form today, pacing and frothing, fingers pointing and voice rising and falling in thunderous crescendos. The family had stopped wondering where John learned all this; the speeches, the clothing, the gaze that never looked at you but always through you. He should have been a priest; he was after all, from the line of Aaron and Abijah. He should have followed his father into the temple but had wandered out into the wilderness instead. And now…well now John was as He saw him. Wild John, the man who wore camel hair and ate bugs. And claimed to be preparing the world for something. For someone.
He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching hardened hearts break, watching the waters part and then swallow up person after person after person. This was the Jordan after all; Israel had crossed it once to enter into their new land. Why not cross it again and enter into new life? He smiled to think of his namesake: standing on the banks of the Jordan, looking back at the people of Israel as they grumbled and mumbled, telling them “Let’s go people. God is even going to part the waters for us. Again.” Poor Joshua. Joshua knew what it was like to remind people about who God was and what he’d done for the people of Israel. Joshua knew what it was like to call the people back from the crooked roads onto the straight path. And once again a man of God was standing on the river bank “Let’s go people. Repent. Let’s get on the straight road again. He’s Coming.”
He stood amongst the crowd that had gathered to listen to John, watching the people give each other confused glances, watching the people give each other alarmed looks. “Prepare the way of the Lord?” It was hard to believe that God was on any road, coming anywhere near Israel. He’d been silent for so long; he had given over Israel into the hands of her enemies. Why show up now? “But after me will come one who is more powerful than I.” Even stranger. Is there some group of wild men out in the deserts of Judea, all uniformed in camel hair and leather, staging a religious coup as we speak? Is John implying that he’s powerful? Compelling, maybe. Powerful? Who is this one he speaks about? Will we know him when we see him? He watched them as they turned to one another, “…whose sandals I am not fit to carry.” Is the one coming some sort of Lord that he can’ carry his own sandals? How low would you have to be to be unfit to carry sandals? Who is Coming? Who is he speaking about?
He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and remembered the stories they’d been told over and over and over again about the days of their birth. Angels and wise men following stars, shepherds and barren women and virgins and fleeing to Egypt. Dreams and temple dedications and Anna the prophetess and kind, old Simeon, portents of great things to come. And then the days after those stories. The normal, boring, regular days in temple and at home, in the shop with Joseph. The steady stream of typical days of family dinners and sibling squabbles and aching muscles as He learned Joseph’s trade. And then the days that had become strange again. When John had disappeared from the family gatherings, and old Aunt Elizabeth whispered mysteriously, “I always knew he would…I knew he would.” When He himself had begun to feel the burden of the future pressing down on him, when he himself began to think about what was to come and unexplainably, knew. The days when he walked around Nazareth and talked with his neighbors and knew that soon things would change, and that there would be a day when he was no longer welcomed here. The days when his mother Mary would walk into the shop and grab His hand and just stare at him. Stare at him like something was going to happen to him and she wanted to remember him forever as he was in that moment.
He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and breathed deeply. In much the same way the John had been driven out into the desert, He had been driven here. This wasn’t the first time that John had preached his fire and judgment at the Jordan. John had been preaching for days now and the discussion around the family was whether or not they should go. Elizabeth would have gone if she had been alive still, and Mary would have come if her life had not already been plagued by scandal. Joseph kept silent about it, as he did in most things. His brothers and sisters had laughed it off, regretting that cousin John had turned out to be one of those ‘crazy men’ who plagued Israel in these days. But He, He could not stay away. The Jordan called to him as it must have called to the tribes all those thousands of years ago. And after days of thinking about praying, today He had come. Expecting everything and nothing, knowing only that today something was going to happen. And that everything would change.
He stood among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and began to move to the front of the group. He passed Pharisees and Sadducees, soldiers and publicans, priests and tax collectors, prostitutes and widows. He threaded his way through families with small children, and around rabbis with their groups of disciples. He moved through the crowd in silence, seeing all around him but hearing the ceaseless call to come forward, to see John. The water was calling. God was calling.
He came out from among the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and stood on the banks of the Jordan. And John, between impassioned cries for repentance and the condemning judgment of God, saw him. To the crowd, the silent stare shared between John and the stranger was brief. Strange, but brief. But for John and He, the moment stretched out like pulled glass – vivid and fragile and never to be recreated. In the time between sight and speech, John’s world collapsed in on him and then expanded again, realization and shock stealing his words, hope and fear throttling his breath. The words that he had been preaching had somehow manifested themselves, the road that God had been traveling on unexpectedly crossed the Jordan. John saw Him standing at the river bank. The man had an axe in his hands, ready to sever the root. No, he was holding a winnowing fork. No, he was blazing in the fire, the Shekinah Glory that only Moses had ever seen. And suddenly the visions were gone and the shock was even greater. Him. It was Jesus. And he was wading into the Jordan river towards him.
He waded out into the river in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John. And when he reached him, John’s face grew white and his voice shook. “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" The crowd could no longer hear what was being said, and so they strained in closer, crowding the banks of the river, hoisting children upon their shoulders. They knew the scene had changed, the play had a new character, and they wanted to see. “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" John, face to face with that which he had been so long preparing, was no longer wild. Jesus knew this John, the contemplative, devoted, God-fearing John. The John who wrestled with the pronouncements and laments of the prophets, who wept when he broke the laws, the John who prayed without ceasing. He reached out and grabbed John’s shoulder and spoke with authority that younger cousins never have. “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.”
He stood in the river in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and waited. “Let it be so” John whispered. He knew righteousness. The difficult and beautiful road that one traveled in obedience to God. The suffocating and liberating life that fulfilled all the laws. He also knew that righteousness was absent from this world, or at best, fragmented, perverted, cast aside. John craved righteousness, craved for the return to God, craved shalom that only comes when Israel was once again in full covenant with God. “Let it be so” Jesus whispered back. His road had been leading here for so long. He had seen this river many times, stood on it’s banks for hours, recounting the stories of Joshua and Israel. He had bathed in it, played in it, crossed it countless times. But now, the Jordan was no longer the river of his childhood – the Jordan was the road that stretched out before him. The Jordan was the beginning. “Let it be so…” they whispered together. And John baptized him.
Jesus rose up out of the water in front of the crowd that had gathered to listen to John and the heavens tore themselves apart. Jesus looked up at the sound and saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and it lighted upon him. It was like new wind, the breath of a newborn child, the rushing winds of the high mountain ranges and the whispered wind currents of the low valleys. It was like fire and ice, like the deepest darkness and the brightest of flames. It was like meeting your father for the first time and then realizing you always knew him. He was frozen like a pillar of marble, eyes gazing up into the heavens, shrouded in the spirit. The crowd was panicked, standing frozen with Him, fleeing from the river banks, shouting and arguing with one another. People who desire signs never really want them. John was still touching Jesus, his hand cradling Jesus’ neck, afraid to let go of that for which he had always hoped. The tearing of the skies was almost secondary to holding on to the promised One.
And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased." John’s hand dropped from Jesus and he shook, trembled in fear and joy. The crowd fell to their knees, awed by the voice that they had so long craved to hear. And Jesus wept silent tears. Tears of joy for the final confirmation, the proud announcement, the knowledge that there were no more secrets. Tears of fear for the days to come, the misunderstandings, the challenges, the tribulations and persecutions. Tears of despair for where the road ahead would take him. For the fact that Sonship was costly. Silent tears that no one saw because their gaze was either to the heavens or to the earth. “This is my Son, whom I love.” It was one thing to hear Mary say it. And another to hear Joseph, silent, righteous, Joseph say it. This, this was full and deep, terrifying and completing. “With him I am well pleased.”
Jesus stood in the river in front of the remaining crowd that had gathered to listen to John, dripping wet and full of memory. He was the earth the moment that the seas had been made. He was Noah in the ark, saved from the deluge by God’s provision. He was Israel escaping Egypt through the waters of the Red sea, following fearfully behind Moses. He was Joshua standing at the Jordan. He was Elijah when the rains finally fell again. He was Namaan, healed and rising out of the water of the “mere” Jordan river. He was the wet fleece of Gideon’s, the sign of God’s promises. He was Israel, washed clean, over and over and over throughout time. He was mankind, purified, sanctified, set apart. The waters dripped from his nose and fingertips, his soggy clothing draping wetly across his body. And John wept silent tears. Tears of joy for the faithfulness of God and his promises. Tears of fear for the days ahead not only for himself but for his cousin, his Jesus, the promised ones. Tears of despair that he was not the long awaited one and would ever point to another. For the fact that Sonship is costly. Silent tears that no one saw because their gaze was either on Jesus or on the horizon as they fled the scene.
Jesus stood in the river in front of the few remaining who had gathered to listen to John, and turned towards his cousin. This would be the last time they saw one another, though neither could know that. John, Wild John in his camel hair and leather, Jesus, the Promised Jesus, in his soaking tunic. They stood in the river with each other, in silence and all the heavens and earth looked on. The time was finally come. The long years of waiting, the long silence of God, the fear that nothing would ever change…all done. Through the triumphs and tragedies, through failed kings and false priests, through exiles and judgment, through homecoming and rebuilding, through revolution and subjugation, God had been working, plotting, maneuvering, planning. Through the cries for mercy and mocking denials, through false messiah’s and puppet rulers, through despair and hope, God had been moving. And here, in the middle of the river that ran through Israel’s memory and heart, here two men, two cousins clasped each other.
It had begun. And all the world would be changed.
Baptism Sermon
on Thursday, April 30, 2009Ordination
on Wednesday, April 29, 2009Hey All,
Today (April 29th) at 1:30pm, I go before the Regional Committee on Ministry for my final ordination council. It's close to 2 hours long from start to finish and I will be sitting before over 30 committee members which includes the regional minister, area ministers and others. I have been heading towards this day for many years and though I am confidant that my call is to serve in the Disciples of Christ in pastoral ministry, I am still apprehensive about my meeting tomorrow. Though the council desires my success, they will also be pushing me hard on any number of important topics.
If you could, pray that:
- I have safe travel to and from the meeting
- I am clear in all of my answers and that I am able to recall pertinent information when needed
- I am calm in my spirit and that I have peace no matter the outcome
- God and ministry in His Kingdom is glorified by the meeting
- The Holy Spirit guides all minds and hearts throughout the process
Most likely the meeting will begin at 1:30, the questioning will go on till 3:00, the council's deliberations will last anywhere from 3:15 to 3:30, and the outcome of the meeting will be made known to me at about 3:30pm.
The prayers of the saints are powerful, so I am thankful to know that you will be among the cloud of witnesses that surrounds me during this final step towards ordination.
Maunday Thursday Sermon
on Thursday, April 9, 2009It's been awhile, but that's life I guess.
This sermon is a bit of a departure for me stylistically. Let me know what you think!
------
The world being as it is, it’s not hard to imagine dark times. We’re all traveling through our own shrouded worlds tonight – some of us who’ve lost jobs. Some of us have lost our houses. Some of us have lost our spouses, or our parents, or our children. Some of us are just overwhelmed by complications that we never knew would be a part of this life. Everywhere we turn we see bad news, collapsing companies, missile testing, earthquakes, famine, war. And everywhere we see talking heads spelling out our doom but giving us no hope, no answers, only more questions. Our future is uncertain, our categories are jumbled, our leaders seemingly powerless. It is a dark night indeed.
When Jesus gathered his disciples together for what he knew would be their last Passover, it was a dark night. Though they shared cup and loaf, jokes and familiar stories, prayers and songs, I imagine that Jesus looked deep into the shadows of that room and saw what had already come to pass and that the dark night that was stretching out before him.
When Jesus was hanging from that bloody tree and his disciples had scattered to the four winds, when the only cup that was offered him was vinegar, when the only laughs shared were mocking daggers piercing his already tender flesh, I imagine that he looked deep into the shadows of the men’s souls who surrounded him and saw again the dark night that he knew not the end of.
It is said that when people are on the edge of death that their lives flash before their eyes, that their mind replays for them the seemingly significant and insignificant events that have made up their lives, a sensory overload before all senses cease. It is not hard for me to believe that while on the cross, Jesus’ life flashed before his eyes – the crowds begging for food, the demon possessed, the sleepless nights, the shared meals, the fights in temples, the tender moments when children came forward to him in love.
It is not hard for us to flash backward through the stories of the life of Jesus, remembering his joys and sorrows, his beginnings at this terrible end. So throw back your minds and imagination with me to one of those first stories and how it shaped our Jesus. Come with me to the desert.
He had just been baptized by his cousin John, and a voice from heaven had proclaimed his identity to the whole world “This is my son, the beloved. In him I am well pleased!” In his joy and fear he had done what God commanded and then, inexplicably was driven into the desert. He only knew that his Father desired him to be there and so he wandered. Day and night through parched lands, no food, little water and silent suffering. Interminable silence only broken by the gusts of harsh winds and the scuttling of unclean creatures. 40 days in silence, in hunger, he waited.
And then a stranger appeared. With smooth words and scriptures the stranger tempted him. “If you are the Son of God, change stones into bread.” Be a Messiah of Bread. “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself off of the temple mount.” Be a Messiah of Signs and Wonders. “If you are a Son of God, bow to me and receive the kingdoms of the world.” Be a Messiah of Military Power and Conquest. Each time he denied the stranger and his temptations. Each time he denied the temptation to be another kind of Messiah. And so the stranger left him. Temporarily.
Perhaps this is the image, the scene that our dying Lord saw before his eyes as he hung, beaten and dejected upon that tortuous cross. Certainly the scene before him seemed very similar.
When we imagine this story, we tend to see our Lord on a cross on a hill somewhere, with murderous crowds circling beneath him like beetles. But truly, to the world, his death was no more spectacularly different than the death of thousands of criminals before him. The bored and indifferent, and perversely obsessed with death swirled around and past his torture, stopping to gape and gab and read the crimes for which he was punished.
This was another desert for Jesus. He was called onto the cross after the joy of entering Jerusalem. He thirsted for water but there was none, he longed for release but time dragged and dragged and dragged. And the only sounds that he heard were the murmurings of the soldiers as they diced for his clothing and the shrieks of pain from those who suffered and died next to him. And then after time immeasurable, the stranger appeared again.
But this time, the stranger was not alone. The stranger stood amongst the crowd that had just days before cheered Jesus’ entrance, who now stood at his feet and mocked him. He commiserated with the priests, teachers, lawyers and elders who saw him condemned, goading them in their jibes towards Jesus. He perched like a vulture on the arm beam of the crosses of the thieves and degraded Jesus alongside them. And tempted him three more times.
Perhaps this seems strange. “Why” you ask “would the stranger waste his time with any more temptations?” “What left is there to offer?”
Jesus was a man and I’m sure like most men, like most humans, the world had much to offer him with. Money, sex, power. But the only real temptations for him centered around who he was, about what he was going to do, about the role he had in the future of all things. Jesus, the Messiah. We know that title. Of course – Messiah! The one who died for us, we say. Simple. What is there to tempt? But we come after the climax and shocking reveal. We know Messiah in hindsight whereas Jesus and all those around him struggled in the midst of it. Messiah? What kind?
These were Jesus’ temptations. Be a messiah of Bread, the stranger offered. A Messiah who feeds us would never end up on a cross. Be a messiah of wonders, the stranger cajoled. A Messiah who calls upon angels would never die a traitor’s death. Be a messiah of armies and conquest, the stranger begged. A Messiah with an army would never be given over to his enemies to die by suffocation. Avoid the Cross….Avoid the Cross.
And so they are his temptations again.
Hear again the word of the scriptures: Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.’ These passers-by mock him. If you are the Son of God, come down of the cross and show us how mighty you are! Destroy the temple? You and what army? If you are the Messiah…come down off the Cross.
Hear the scriptures again: In the same way the chief priests also, along with the scribes and elders, were mocking him, saying, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he wants to; for he said, “I am God’s Son.” ’ The priests challenge him. “We know” they say “who the Son of God is. The Son of God will be the King of Israel. The Son of God will always have the protection of God. You the Son of God? You, the dying criminal? You, the abandoned one? Some King! Some Son! If you are the Messiah….come down off the Cross.”
Hear the scriptures again: The bandits who were crucified with him also taunted him in the same way. Even the thieves, the men who were dying alongside Jesus mocked him. “Son of God? Since when does the Son of any god keep company like us? Son of God? On a Cross? Condemned and close to death? If you are the Son of God…If you are the Messiah….come down off the cross!”
Be a messiah of might by bringing down the temple. Be a messiah who is king . Be a messiah who is pure and only walks with the righteous. Be a messiah…just come down off the cross! Come down off the cross!
All the stranger ever wanted was for Jesus to avoid the cross. To avoid being the Messiah who dies so that we may live. And once Jesus was on the cross, all the stranger wanted was for him to come down. For Jesus to live so that we would die.
Whenever we tell this story to each other, on nights like these, we like to pretend that we are the righteous few who would not have crucified Jesus. We are not in the crowd that mocks, or the priests who shame or the thieves who degrade. We are certainly not the stranger – come down…come down.
But tonight, of all nights, I think that the time has come to admit something. Tonight. Of all nights, before we once again enact that last supper, it is time to confess. We were the crowd who said “Let his blood be upon us and our children!” We were the priests who mocked him “King of Israel? Here’s your crown!” We were the thieves, unrepentent in our sin even unto death: “You are the Son of God?”
Come down off the cross. Come Down Off The Cross. COME DOWN OFF THE CROSS!
We are desperate, just as the stranger was, just as the mocking crowds were, for Jesus to be a different messiah. We can stomach the savior who feeds us. We can bear the savior who entertains us. We can follow the messiah in all of his might. But we cannot, will not have a messiah who saves us. A messiah who must die to do so. And why?
Because we cannot bear the guilt. We cannot bear the shame. And we cannot bear the truth that it is what we so desperately need.
Letting Jesus be the Messiah who suffers, letting Jesus be the Messiah who dies, letting Jesus be lowest and despised is painful. The pain is that of being stretched, of having one hand tied to the tree which is the cross and the other tied to the first tree, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If Jesus does not come down from the cross, we are pulled between these trees, constantly facing our sin, knowing that we chose to eat of the fruit and so Jesus chose to die for our sakes. Because he will not come down, we are ripped apart. We, like the veil of the temple, have been torn asunder.
He would not avoid it. He would not come down. And he died. And so did any of our pretensions that we could save ourselves.
This is a dark night. And perhaps that is on purpose. The dark invades us and finds its own echoes in our minds, our hearts, our histories. The dark calls to dark and we are confronted with our own sin, our own need for grace, our own culpability between the trees.
Dawn will come. The dark will not last forever. But now it is dark.
Good News, Part 1
on Wednesday, March 4, 2009After a tumultuous fall, the church that I serve accepted the resignation of the Associate Minister of Christian Education and Youth. There's lots of details there, and if you would like to know them, let me know. Some of them are...delicate to say the least, so I'm withholding for the sake of everyone involved.
I, of course, am about to graduate from Seminary and be ordained. Thus, I've been on the lookout for future ministry jobs. Cliff and I have been in deep discussions about our future, about houses and jobs and children and have been praying for discernment. I've also been struggling with the question of whether or not I wanted to be an Associate Minister for several years or if I wanted to jump right into the Senior Pastorate. There were lots of Senior Pastor positions all over Texas, but Associate Minister positions would take us out of the state, which I wasn't very enthusiastic about. I know that God has been and is preparing me to serve Him no matter the geographic location, but everybody has personal preferences!
So, it seemed like Cliff and I would be moving come May. But then something came up...
CRASH!
on Tuesday, February 17, 2009So, without further ado, here's the first sermon. I've titled it "Being Afraid of the Dark."
------
I wasn’t allowed to watch R rated movies until I was 17 years old. At the time, I thought this was a heinous injustice, as I was one of the only people in the whole world who hadn’t seen any of the terminator movies or any horror movies at all. I didn’t realize how smart my parents were to keep me from these movies until I saw one of them behind their backs. I was at a slumber party in probably the 5th grade and we all decided to watch a movie. The movie we watched was called “The Gate.” Now, Google that and you’ll be horrified – it’s a very cheesy 80’s horror movie about a ‘gate’ in some kids backyard that just so happens to lead to some nether-region of hell. And because You-Tube is so awesome, I actually found the trailer for it. Let me show you just a little bit of it. (SHOW TRAILER - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOX6-Rw5PWc)
Yeah I know. Dumb – Not Scary. But it was definitely scary then. Totally scary. Like, I couldn’t sleep for two days, jumping at every sound, shivering in my blanket in the dark, scary. I still remember laying in my bed at night, scared so badly that something, somehow was going to rise up out of the darkness and get me. I would cry, wishing, hoping that someone would just turn the light on for me.
Now, Jesus certainly didn’t live during a time where they had cheesy 80’s horror movies, let alone movies of any kind. We’re going so far back in time here that there aren’t even books to read. But that doesn’t mean that there world wasn’t full of scary things, of scary people, of scary circumstances. It’s not so hard for me to believe that kids your age and younger, laid in their beds, with the darkness pressing down on them, hoping that the sun would still rise so that they knew there was light left in the world. They, like we, are afraid of the dark, afraid of a world out of our control, of people that can hurt us, of the unknown. But our scripture passage this morning tells us something great: We Have Hope in Christ Because He Is Our Light
Why, though, are we hoping for light? Because we all know what darkness is like.
Now, I’m sure lots of you had night lights when you were smaller. If you won’t admit it, I will. I totally had a night light when I was little. I worked at a church camp last summer as a counselor for 4th and 5th graders, and I left the door to the hallway open at night because my girls were afraid of the dark. If you had asked those little girls that night why they were afraid of the dark, they probably wouldn’t have been able to give you a good answer. Did you have a good answer when you were that age? Really though – why were you afraid of the dark? And don’t tell me a teenager answer – try to remember why the dark was frightening when you were small. (LET THE KIDS TALK BACK FOR A MINUTE). Okay – so you couldn’t see, so anything could come into your room. The room you were in suddenly became unfamiliar. Unknown. Darkness seems to change a place for us. And when I say darkness, I’m not just talking about light on/light off darkness. We also have seen darkness in the people around us. And that is even more scary.
When you were smaller and you were hearing the stories about Jesus and the Bible, they may have used those felt boards with you. You know, a big piece of felt, tacked onto a board and you took other felt pieces in the shape of trees and sheep and people and stuck them up on the felt and let static electricity help you tell a story. All those stories had fluffy sheep and green pastures and smiling shepherds with crooks in their hands. But really, during Jesus times, there weren’t as many fluffy sheep and happy shepherds as there were violent revolutions and short-life expectancies. The people before and during Jesus’ times knew what darkness was, knew what the darkness of the human soul was. They watched their priests cheat them out of money to build bigger temples. They watched their sons die in pointless battles. They saw their babies murdered, their daughters raped, and they saw nothing to stop it. They were surrounded by the darkness of long nights and the darkness of human evil. They knew – like we do, what darkness is like.
Our world is a lot different than Jesus’ was. A lot different. But human experiences haven’t really changed that much. We’re still surrounded by darkness. Every day someone gets murdered. Every day someone gets robbed. Every day someone, adult or child is abused. In Waco, so many people go without food or homes or even someone to love them. You have darkness in your own life. Maybe you’ve told people about it or maybe you haven’t, but you know what I’m saying when I say darkness. But this darkness…well it can’t be chased away by the quick flick of a switch. We all know darkness in our own lives, and I hope that this weekend you will be able to share with each other those dark places of your lives that threaten to swallow you up.
But even though this darkness seems ever present in both the world and in ourselves, we all share this: We Crave Light In Our Lives
I was born in Alaska, during a snow-storm, no less, in the middle of December. Now, the farther you get north, the odder the seasons get. In the summer, the days are so long that it seems like the sun will never set. My mother still has a quilt that she used to hang over my sister’s window in the summer to keep the sun out. That quilt has been permanently faded in a very clear square pattern. During the winter, though, the nights are very long and people start to crave the long days of summer, they start to crave light again. Their craving for light gets so bad, that it affects them biologically. Here’s something I found on national geographic about what happens when you don’t get enough light:
(SHOW VIDEO - http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2008/01/080103-light-video-ap.html).
So, not only are you hungry, angry and bitter in the mornings without light, but you also have to buy $100 lights to stay functional!
Now, the people of ancient Israel, where Jesus’ stories all take place, they never had to suffer through days when there was only 4 hours of light. Israel is in the middle east – so they’ve got plenty of sun light, thank you very much. But they’re craving, hoping for a different kind of light. A light that brings hope. The people of Israel are the authors of your new testament, and they’ve been waiting hundreds of years for God to not only forgive them for some really terrible choices, but to save them from their enemies. From the darkness of the world around them. And so by the time Jesus steps onto the scene, they’ve been looking and craving this “light” of salvation, this “light of hope” for almost 500 years. They are waiting for the light of God to break into their dark surroundings and show them how to live, love and hope again!
How long have you been hoping for the light to come on in your life? How long have you been craving for light in your dark situations? God gives you the same promise he gave to Israel all those centuries ago – the Light of the World is Coming. The Darkness of your lives will not remain forever. Wait for the Light. Hope for the Light.
But thankfully, we don’t have to wait for that Light any longer. You See, We Have Hope in Jesus Christ – The Light Has Already Come!
In our scripture passage this morning, Jesus says something pretty important, so I’d like to go over it again: “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.’” Israel has been hoping and praying for a light to shine in their darkness and Jesus pipes up in front of a crowd of Pharisees who all have stones they were about to throw at someone, that HE is the light of the world! “You will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of light.” Now – let’s be clear about what Jesus is saying here. He’s NOT saying – “Hey, believe in me and nothing bad will ever happen to you ever again!” He is NOT saying “All the bad, terrible evil in the world is gone now!” He is saying, though, that you don’t have to walk in that darkness blind anymore. You have a light – not just any light, but the Light of Lights to guide your life, to show you the way, to keep hope alive in you!
Have any of you ever been to Las Vegas before? Well, for those of you who haven’t, one of the many hotels there is called the Luxor and it’s built to resemble one of the Great Pyramids of Egypt. Except this one has a giant laser light bulb that shines out the top of it and can be seen from SPACE. FROM SPACE. I think I have a picture of it for you.
Now that is a bright bright light. It’s so bright that the darkness of space is even lessened by it.Now imagine how much more powerful the Light of Jesus Christ is in your life. His promises of love, of loyalty, of peace, of comfort, all cut through the darkness of your troubled lives, of your unsure future. The light and hope we have in Jesus Christ doesn’t eliminate all of the darkness from our lives, but it keeps it from swallowing us whole. It keeps us from living in fear, as victims, as hopeless creatures. The Light that is Jesus Christ, helps us look towards our futures and say “I am Not Afraid. I have Hope. The Darkness Will Not Devour Me.”
When you go to sleep tonight, when you lay in the darkness of night, think about the other kind of darkness that surrounds you. And let it know that it has been met and defeated by the Light of Christ which is given to us.
I like trends
on Monday, February 16, 200925 Things...About You & Your Spouse
♥ What are your middle names?
Walter & Lauren
♥ How long have you been together?
We started dating in November of 2006....so about two and a half years
♥ How long did you know each other before you started dating?
3 Months
♥ Who asked who out?
Um...neither? We just were together....it's a story.
♥ Whose siblings do/ did you see the most?
We see his more. My sister lives in Ohio and my brother in Abilene so it's rare when we're all together.
♥ Do you have any children together?
Not yet!
♥ What about pets?
We had (actually I had) a cat named Ghost from May of 2007 till November 2008. And then I had to have Ghost put down...
♥ Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
- This sounds weird - affection. I'm UBER affectionate in public and in private, and Cliff is NOT very affectionate in public or private. We've had to learn each other's love languages and how to fulfill and respect them.
♥ Did you go to the same school?
We went to Truett together, though he's had to hang around because he graduated a year ahead of me.
♥ Are you from the same home town?
Nope. Cliff was born in Vernon, TX and I was born in Anchorage, AK. I grew up in Dallas/Houston and he grew up in Orange.
♥ Who is the smartest?
I'm the resident theologian and Cliff's the creative entertainer. We've got our own strengths!
♥ Who is the most sensitive?
- I am, hands down, no questions asked. On a scale from 1-100, I'm a 97 and Cliff's a 3.
♥ Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Poppa Rollo's. It's not the best, but it's still pretty tasty.
♥ Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
- Cliff and I went to Jamaica for our honeymoon. He would like for us to go all over the world one day.
♥ Who has the craziest exes?
-Me. Lot's of them. And many different varieties of crazy
♥ Who has the worst temper?
- Cliff. If I get worked up I can match him, but he's the one mostly likely to flame up first. Ahh theatre people...aren't we fun?
♥ Who does the cooking?
- Funnily - me. I wish it weren't so (and Cliff probably does too). I am NOT a creative cooker, so I'll subsist on Ramen and Cereal if given the option. Cliff treat cooking like an adventure - I'm never sure what we'll be eating, but 99% of the time it's going to taste great.
♥ Who is more social?
- Cliff is WAY more social. I'd stay in bed and read all the time if given the chance.
♥ Who is the neat-freak?
- Neither. I live in piles and Cliff lives in various levels of strewn about strata. We only clean when people are coming over.
♥ Who is the most stubborn?
- Probably me.
♥ Who hogs the bed?
- Cliff says I do, but I'm not sure about that.
♥ Who wakes up earlier?
- Depends on if he's working or not. I would stay in bed till 12 if I could.
♥ Where was your first date?
- At my apartment. He made me french toast. I LOVE BREAKFAST FOOD
♥ Who has the bigger family?
- Me. We have the same amount of siblings, but my extended family is pretty large while he has very few cousins.
♥ Do you get flowers often?
- Every so often
♥ How do you spend the holidays?
- We alternate families for the major occasions. When we have kids, we'll introduce a third year into the cycle where we stay home and invite everyone to our house.
♥ Who is more jealous?
- Me, totally. Story there.
♥ How long did it take to get serious?
- Not too long for me. For Cliff....27 years? ::Laugh:: JOKE! Cliff got serious before I did!
♥ Who does/ did the laundry?
- I end up doing a majority of the laundry. I don't mind the washing and the drying but I HATE putting clothes away. So I try to make him do that part. That works....sometimes.
♥ Who’s better with the computer?
- Cliff. He's technologically way more savvy then I. I just need email and a word processing program!
♥ Who drives when you are together?
- Cliff. He gets motion sickness otherwise!
So, when I was in College...
on Saturday, February 7, 2009If you'd like to see these neat-o films and me vamping in star wars gear, you can go here:
http://www.spiritsoftheforce.com
