Bear Fruit

March 20, 2022 – Lent 3
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Luke 13:1-9[1]

The purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer for Easter. It is during this time that we focus more on Jesus calling people to repentance. As Paul wrote to the Romans, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[2] Sin is turning away from God, or the ways of God; serving our own desires rather than seeking good for our neighbors. In Jesus time, it was often thought that bad things happened to people because of their sin. But Jesus, here in Luke 13, is trying to help us understand that that is not necessarily the case.

Jesus has been told that a group of Galileans were murdered by Pilate in their place of worship. Jesus responds, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?  No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”[3] He then tells them about an accident in Jerusalem, when a tower collapsed. Did they die because they were sinners? No, they were no worse people than anyone else living in Jerusalem. Imagine Jesus saying, “don’t think you’re invincible and nothing bad will ever happen to you just because you’re following me around.” Sin doesn’t cause bad things to happen to bad people. That’s not what sin is about, and that’s not what repentance is about.

When I have done something wrong, I try to acknowledge it and apologize for it. That’s confession. Repentance is the work of making things right, of repairing what is broken. And what is broken is often a relationship, a trust, or even my relationship with God. Repairing the relationship, re-building trust, that is the work of repentance. It can be hard work, and it will take time.

Repentance also means to make a change, to change course so as to not repeat the same mistake again. Making a change in behavior, a change in how we are in relationship with another, that is the repentance that Jesus is talking about here.

The fig tree is the example used here. Fig trees typically start producing fruit within two years of being planted. This tree that has not borne fruit in three years is unusual, a problem. The owner of the vineyard sees it as a waste of space and resources. Yet the gardener tries to spare the tree, to give it one more chance to grow. “He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.’”[4] Is the gardener seeking repentance for neglecting the tree? The gardener offers to change course, to try some extra care and attention in order to encourage the tree to bear fruit. That is one way to look at it. The gardener is saying, “It is my fault. I’m sorry. Let me make amends and try to set things right.”

Some scholars see the fig tree as a metaphor for and unrepentant Israel, God’s people who have fallen away, who are faced with God’s judgment. In that sense, the gardener is Jesus pleading for Israel to be given one last chance to change, to repair their relationship with God, to bear fruit. And it is through the extra love and care of Jesus, guiding them to change, that the people are given an opportunity to repent, to change their ways before the judgment of God falls upon them.

The call to repentance is a call to change. It is the opportunity to turn to God’s way that leads to peace, love, and life. Perhaps repentance and bearing fruit is not about turning from sinful ways or even the fear of God’s judgment, but about embracing change? The only constant in life is change, and no matter how we resist, how much we try to hold on to the past, time continues to go by. Maybe repentance is about changing to meet the changing needs of our selves, our communities, and our world. What has changed, and how can we respond to that change in a way that is consistent with the way of Jesus, the way of peace, love, and life?

Jesus gives us what we need in order to change. As the gardener gives extra care to the fig tree so that it may bear fruit, so we are given more love, care, hope, and encouragement so that we might bear fruit of repentance, fruit that will nourish the world that we inhabit. Let us do the work, not alone, but together, with Jesus in our midst, ensuring that we will not perish, but thrive.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Romans 3:23.

[3] Luke 13:2-3.

[4] Luke 13:8.

Something Bigger Is Going On

March 13, 2022 – Lent 2
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Philippians 3:17 - 4:1; Luke 13:31-35[1]

It’s nice to be part of something bigger than yourself. In sports, its being part of the team. In school, its being part of the musical. In business, its being part of the company. In church, its being part of the choir. Being part of something bigger than ourselves allows us to accomplish more than we could on our own. It also allows us to share the joy of success and the agony of failure. I’m more than just me, I’m one of US. We won. WE did it. We’ll get through this together.

It felt great to cheer on the U.S. Olympians. You could feel the joy, the energy of the event, and that’s something we can all take part in. That’s us out there, twirling on the ice, racing down a ski slope.

Trouble is, even when we’re part of “us”, the “me” can take over. Like it or not, our world is obsessed with status and power. It’s not a bad thing to be the best, the most powerful, the one in control. What is bad is when that status and power is used to belittle, harm, or oppress others. It is that kind of power – corrupted power, abusive power – that is challenged by a kingdom where the last will be first and the first will be last.

The Herod that the Pharisees warn Jesus about is Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great we hear about in the Christmas narrative. The kingdom of Herod the Great was divided upon his death, and Herod Antipas inherited the territories of Galilee and Perea. Then the Romans conquered the entire region. Herod was left to rule Galilee as a client state of the Roman Empire. His hold on power was tenuous; and Herod ruled only so long as he toed the line with Rome.

Fearing any threat to his power, Herod has already had John the Baptizer beheaded. Now Jesus is travelling Galilee preaching an upside-down kingdom. Not only will the first be last, but the last – those who have been kept down, treated like dirt, and ignored – they will rise to the top. This is not good news to Herod, and he responds to this threat to his power with his own threat of death. Yet his fear for himself misses the bigger story that is unfolding.

The mission and method of Jesus are rooted in the history of the prophets of Israel. The imagery here recalls the ancient promises of God’s care for Israel, but also God’s judgment when the people fail to be faithful in their covenant. Like Isaiah and Zechariah before him, Jesus speaks of gathering the scattered children of Israel and bringing them under the protective wings of God’s love. And like the earlier prophets, the words of Jesus go unheeded: “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

This lament gives us a glimpse of the true identity of Jesus, and hints at what is to come. He will continue with his work and face the danger that waits in Jerusalem with the same resolve and devotion a mother feels for her children.

I once read a story by N.T. Wright, a retired Anglican bishop, which described a fire in the hen house, and the aftermath:

Those cleaning up have found a dead hen, scorched and blackened, and live chicks sheltering under her wings. She has quite literally given her life to save them. It is a vivid and violent image of what Jesus declared he longed to do for Jerusalem and, by implication, for all Israel. But, at the moment, all he could see was chicks scurrying off in the opposite direction, taking no notice of the smoke and flames indicating the approach of danger, nor of the urgent warnings of the one who alone could give them safety.[2]

What a metaphor for God’s maternal love for everyone, even those who turn away, even those who reject and stone the prophets, even those who would kill to protect their power and privilege.

To be a prophet is to speak truth to power, to challenge those in authority when they fail to uphold their responsibilities. The kingdom Jesus proclaims is a threat to powers everywhere, to Herod of Galilee, certainly, but also to the Roman Governor of Jerusalem, and, perhaps more importantly, even the powerful in the villages. “Jesus went through one town and village after another,” (v. 22) with this message about the first and the last. Every town is a seat of power, and lives are more easily destroyed by local people than by distant policies. The people that Jesus meets one-by-one as he does his work have been hurt more by violence, shame, and exclusion committed by their neighbors than they have been hurt by the Romans. Jesus isn’t just taking on one provincial ruler.

Jesus is not just coming to overthrow this ruler or that, but to overthrow every human heart. All this stuff that seems so important: power, status, control, they mean nothing in God’s realm. What matters most is the love that we show to one another. Lent is the season of the church when we reevaluate our relationship with God and examine the ways we live that lead us toward death and destruction. This is the time to face what we fear and prepare ourselves to follow Jesus on the way to Jerusalem.

I find it curious that it’s the Pharisees who bring the warning. The Pharisees have been listening, and they know that their power is threatened as well. Why, then, would they warn Jesus of what is coming? One scholar suggests:

More than likely they have ulterior motives. Possibly they are in league with Herod and hope to drive Jesus out of Herod’s jurisdiction, into the arms of Pilate and Pilate’s responsibility. Then, like a state governor in our day passing on responsibility to federal authorities, at least Herod cannot be blamed for the results of this troublemaker’s actions. Maybe Pilate can figure out a way to get rid of Jesus altogether.[3]

In response, Jesus doesn’t hold back. He lets the Pharisees and Herod know he is not politically naïve. Listen! You tell that fox that I’m working on something bigger than he knows. I must be on my way, and your threats won’t stop me. Maybe Herod does want to kill me, but there is something bigger, something more important going on here. I won’t stop in the provinces. When I finish my work, I’m going to Jerusalem. Pilate will see me soon enough. I’m not just going down to Springfield, but all the way to Washington. And I’m fully aware of what they do to prophets there.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!” (v. 34) I almost expect the next line to call for the destruction of the city. But here Jesus turns the tables again. It’s not a hound standing up to the fox; instead, it’s a hen trying to comfort her chicks. “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.” You poor people with your little kingdoms, your tiny circles of power, don’t you see that you are just caught up in the storm, chirping into the wind, driven by your fear to run from the very security you seek? This life of power and control that you defend with such anxiety, this life is not what God wants for you.

As Paul writes to the church in Philippi, there is a way of life that makes you an enemy of the cross of Christ. “Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things” (v. 19). The message that Jesus brings is that things can be different. We don’t have to live this way. Life is bigger than power. Life is bigger than status. Life is bigger than fear.

We could live as if ruling one small piece of this world is all that is important. “But our citizenship is in heaven.” We belong to something bigger than what is happening in this little town, this province, this state. We are members of the commonwealth of heaven. We are the Body of Christ. We are part of something much bigger than ourselves.

We have been given gifts from God, talents, skills, and we can use them to shape this world into something better. When we use them together, we can make a remarkable difference in the lives of people here in Union, in Illinois, in the United States, and around the world. We are part of the Body of Christ, members of the household of God. We are all in this together – our friends, our neighbors, our classmates, our co-workers, and even our enemies, our homeless and hungry brothers and sisters, and all the living beings that cover the face of the globe. We may face danger, and we might have to walk the way that leads to the cross, but God waits for us on the other side, with love stronger than death.

Therefore, my brothers and sisters, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved. Live according to the example we have in Christ. And when the time comes, let us say: “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] N. T. Wright, quoted in: http://i.ucc.org/StretchYourMind/OpeningtheBible/WeeklySeeds/tabid/81/articleType/ArticleView/articleId/382/Strong-and-Tender-Feb-22-28.aspx.

[3] Rodney Clapp, “Pastoral Perspective” on Luke 13:31-35 in Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Vol. 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p. 70.

Prayer and Repentance

February 21, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

2 Chronicles 6:36-40; Mark 1:9-15[1]

When I was a kid, we didn’t give anything up for Lent. Now, maybe some people in our church did, but we didn’t make a big deal about it. We celebrated Lent; we had a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper and played some silly games. We didn’t do the ashes on Wednesday, however. I remember saying, naively, to a friend, “You’ve got some dirt on your forehead.”

I do remember being asked by a friend or two, “What are you giving up for Lent?” Was I a bad Christian because, at first, I didn’t understand the question? “Um, nothing?” I felt like I was missing out on something, something important.

What is Lent really about, anyway? “The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer — through prayer, penitence, almsgiving and self-denial — for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus.”[2] Prayer serves to direct our attention to God. Penitence is “the condition of being sorrowful and remorseful for sins one has committed.”[3] Almsgiving is charity, giving to those in need and thus showing love for our neighbor. And self-denial is the giving-something-up which is meant to redirect our thoughts and energy from bodily or earthly things to spiritual or divine things. Lent was originally the time when candidates prepared for baptism, which took place during the Easter vigil, the Saturday night before Easter Sunday morning. It was an intense period of fasting and prayer.

As we know from the story of Noah, and as we heard in Solomon’s prayer, God knows that people will be people. We will sin, for “there is no one who does not sin.”[4] We will do wrong. People are weak-willed and short-sighted, and we mess things up. However, God also loves us, and “if [we] repent with all [our] heart and soul,”[5] God will hear our prayer and forgive us. So, what is Lent really about? It’s about coming to our senses. It’s about realizing that we have done wrong, that we have sinned, and repenting. Lent is about focusing on getting right with God.

We celebrate Lent because we need help keeping our focus on God. It’s okay if we stumble, if we fail, if we fall short. We’re not perfect; no one is. God knows that the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Lent gives us a chance to try to be better. We should try, because when we do, we store up treasures in heaven, and that treasure can’t be taken from us. When we repent, we hear more clearly the good news, and we get closer to the kingdom of God.

There is something powerful in the act of repentance, really feeling sorry for the wrongs we have done and actively trying to make it right, that can make a difference in the way we live our lives. If we take it seriously, if we take prayer and repentance seriously, maybe something in us can change for good. Maybe something in the world around us can change for good.

We’re familiar with the act of self-denial, even if we don’t practice it as part of a Lenten observance. We diet for our health or to fit into the swimsuit this summer. Some of us even fast, going without food, or sweets, or indulgences for a time.

We’re also familiar with alms-giving. We write our checks weekly to the church for the offering. We donate to the Heifer Project, or One Great Hour of Sharing, to the Lions or the Rotary, and maybe the Salvation Army. We might even volunteer our time to help in a food pantry or soup kitchen.

Another way to look at alms-giving is to think of it as other-sustaining. We know the phrase “love your neighbor.” To love often means to sustain the life of the one who is loved. It’s something we already do, but we can take this moment, these forty days of Lent, to give our other-sustaining efforts a new intensity.

We share our bread with the hungry, and the M.O.R.E. Food Pantry patrons are grateful. We help shelter women who have been abused with our donations to Turning Point. Our rummage sale provided clothing and household items to many in need. But these things just treat the symptoms, they don’t cure the disease. We can do more. We can do more to loose the bonds of injustice, to let the oppressed go free, and to satisfy the needs of the afflicted.

This Lenten season let us really try to be constant in prayer, to seek God in every moment, to be prepared to answer when we hear the call. This Lenten season, let us repent; not merely feeling sorry for the wrong things we have said and done, but really making an effort to correct our mistakes. This Lenten season, let us be generous with our money, with our time, and with our love. This Lenten season, let us deny ourselves what we don’t need, and sustain others with all that we can. This Lenten season, may we be heralds and harbingers of the coming kingdom of God.

There is good news to be shared. God loves us, and even if we sin against God we can be forgiven. God hears our prayers and keeps the promises. God maintains our cause as we seek to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves. When we walk in the steps of Jesus, we have a firm foundation. Let us go in peace to love and serve the world.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent.

[3] Donald K. McKim, Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996).

[4] 2 Chronicles 6:36.

[5] 2 Chronicles 6:38.

Saying 'No' and Saying 'Yes'

March 1, 2020

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Matthew 4:1-11

One of the first words we learn to speak as small children is “No.” It is a powerful word, giving a growing person agency, control over their life. It is also a source of considerable frustration for parents.

“Please eat your green beans.” “No!”
“It’s time to get ready for bed.” “No!”
“Did you knock over the lamp?” “No!”
“Please get off the computer” “No!”

We start out making great use of “No!” even if it doesn’t always get the result we seek. As we grow older, however, it can get harder to say “No.” We learn that we more often get what we want if we say “Yes.” People like us more when we say “Yes.” We take on more responsibility and we learn to feel guilty when we say “No,” so we say “Yes” more often.

“I know you worked all day, made dinner, and have a meeting tonight, but would you help me with my homework?” “Yes.”

“I know you’re already working on the update for the client, but would you prepare the PowerPoint for the budget meeting at 4:00?” “Yes.”

“I know you’re already singing in the choir this morning, and reading scripture, but we need someone to run teach Sunday School. Would you please do that?” “Yes.”

We become so good at saying “Yes” and so hesitant to say “No” that we are exhausted, overworked, burned-out, and spiritually depleted. God is still speaking, but how can I listen when there is already so much to do? Who really has time for prayer and reflection, let alone studying scripture? But I feel so guilty saying no to God.

Maybe what we need is to regain the ability to say “No,” not selfishly like we did as a child, not saying “No” to everything, but thoughtfully and intentionally. Perhaps I wouldn’t feel so guilty saying “No” if I’ve already committed to something else. I shouldn’t say “No” just because I don’t want to do something hard, or new, or out of my comfort zone, but I should practice saying “No” to this because I have already said “Yes” to that.

In this story from Matthew’s Gospel, the focus is usually on temptation. Jesus is tempted to use his power in selfish ways, to feed his hunger, to show off, to gain power. But we can also look at how Jesus says “No” to one thing because he has said “Yes” to another.

“If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.”

“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down” off the pinnacle of the temple.

“All these [kingdoms] I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”

Each time Jesus says “No” because he has already said “Yes!” to God.

“Yes, I will trust God to provide what I really need.”

“Yes, I will trust God to care for me.”

“Yes, I will serve and worship God alone.”

In Matthew’s Gospel, the conflict between the kingdom of this world and the kingdom of God is the major emphasis. The temptations that are presented to Jesus in the wilderness are about having power and authority in this world. If he uses his divine power selfishly, he can gain all that he might desire. He could rule in place of the Roman emperor, he could enforce peace and pronounce judgment from the throne, but it would be the throne of this world. Instead, Jesus stays true to the kingdom of God, to trust and serve God alone, to pray for God’s kingdom to come. In a sense, he has said “Yes” to God and stays true to that commitment.

Now, I doubt any of us will be asked to rule the kingdoms of this world, or be tempted to test God’s ability to provide for us. We will, however, be faced with choices and temptations of our own. We will have to choose how to best use our limited resources of time, money, and energy. We will have to choose when to say “No,” because we have already made other commitments. As followers of Jesus, I hope that we are able to say “Yes” to love of God, love of our neighbors, and love for ourselves before we have to say “No” to something else.

As we journey through Lent, we can practice saying “Yes” to what matters most. Jesus said “Yes” to trusting the word of God, to trusting in the care of God, and to serve and worship God alone. Perhaps we can say “Yes” to faithfulness, kindness, and generosity. Maybe we can say “Yes” to family, friends, and time alone.

Having already said “Yes” to the kingdom of God, Jesus was strengthened when he had to say “No” to the kingdom of the world. By choosing to hunger for God’s word, Jesus was able to resist filling the emptiness with anything less. By seeking to serve God with humility, Jesus was able to resist being lifted up until he was lifted up onto the cross. By accepting his role in God’s kingdom of grace and peace, Jesus was able to resist the lure of ruling through force, and rule instead through the power of love.

When we have already said “Yes” to those commitments that really matter, we will have the power to say “No” when temptation pulls at us. When we have said “Yes” to God we are able to say “No” to all that is not God. When we follow Jesus, we will be tempted to turn aside, yet we will be able to keep walking, even if it means taking up our own cross, because we are headed for the kingdom of God.  Amen.

I Regard Everything as Loss

February 26, 2020, Ash Wednesday

St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b - 6:10

For the prophet Joel, it seems, things were pretty bad. “Sound the alarm!” “The day of the Lord is coming!” And unless you really think the world is ending in November, we don’t really share Joel’s passion. Of course, our nation hasn’t been invaded by the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, or a swarm of locusts that turns the day to darkness. But we should not be so complacent as to think that we don’t need God.

After all, there is plenty in the world today to be worried about. Will there ever be peace in the Middle-East? Will the Corona virus wipe us all out? Will climate change cause ever-increasingly powerful storms? Maybe things aren’t as bad for us as they were for Joel, but we could stand to take some time to return to God, to reflect on our spiritual life, and to examine how we relate to the world.

What is Lent really about, anyway? “The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer—through prayer, penitence, almsgiving and self-denial—for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus.”[1] Prayer serves to direct our attention to God. Penitence is “the condition of being sorrowful and remorseful for sins one has committed.”[2] Almsgiving is charity, giving to those in need and thus showing love for our neighbor. And self-denial is the giving-something-up which is meant to redirect our thoughts and energy from bodily or earthly things to spiritual or divine things. Lent was originally the time when candidates prepared for baptism, which took place during the Easter vigil, the Saturday night before Easter Sunday morning. It was an intense period of fasting and prayer.

Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent, the forty-day period leading up to Easter Sunday. (Sundays are not counted as part of Lent since every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection.) The forty days symbolize the forty days Jesus spent fasting in the wilderness before he began his public ministry. Ash Wednesday gets its name from the practice of placing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful as a sign of repentance. The act echoes the ancient Near Eastern tradition of throwing ashes over one’s head to signify repentance before God.[3] You may recall that Job, after arguing his case before God and being humbled, repented in sack-cloth and ashes. The ashes are also a reminder of our mortality, as we read in Genesis 3:19, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

To repent means to “turn again,” to turn, or re-turn to God. Do you ever feel like you have been turned away from God, headed off in pursuit of something less than your best self? I feel that way at times, and I get dizzy trying to turn the right way. Sometimes I don’t want to turn, because I feel guilty for turning away in the first place. But I do keep turning; because I know what Joel is telling us is true. God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” It’s usually not easy to repent, to try to make up for what I have done wrong, but at least I don’t have to wear a sack and sit in a pile of ashes when I do it.

It is good to have a time when we focus on what we have done wrong. It is a good thing to recognize that we all make mistakes, that we have all hurt others, and that we could all stand to pray more, do more to help others, and make do with less. “Now is the acceptable time,” says Paul, “now is the day of salvation!” Now is the time for a few small repairs.

Maybe what we should focus on is our stuff. We have too much stuff, and a lot of it is unnecessary and unused. Some of our stuff was so important for us to have just a short time ago, and now it’s not stuff anymore, it’s trash. It can take a lot of time and money to deal with all of our stuff too. We have to store our stuff, clean our stuff, buy, sell, and dispose of our stuff. Maybe Lent is the time to really take a look at our stuff and decide: which stuff is necessary, which stuff is good (meaning that it brings greater joy, freedom, love, health, and connection to God and those around us), and which stuff is bad (meaning it takes away from those things). And maybe it’s time to give away some of our stuff to people who could benefit from it more than us.

Maybe we should focus on food. Fasting is a traditional practice in lent. Going without sweets, eating less, or even eating things that are better for us can really change how we feel, how we look, and how much we enjoy the food that we do have. We have to be careful to not over-do it, especially people who have an eating disorder. Maybe it’s where and with whom we eat that needs some study. Sharing a meal builds connections between us, and is a way of nourishing one another with more than just the food. I could stand to eat alone less often.

Maybe our focus should be on our time and how we spend it. Maybe we need to work on our relationships and practicing forgiveness. Maybe we should let go of the things that are dragging us down. Whatever we focus on, Christ invites us to be reconciled to God, accept the grace of God, and be free from the obstacle of sin that blocks our way.

The Apostle Paul, living his life as a servant of God, spreading the gospel and starting churches, did not have it easy. And it seems foolish to follow a path that leads to “afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, [and] hunger.” And yet that is the path that Paul invites us to walk. To live as a Christian, to really live life as Jesus would have us live, can be a dangerous thing. It is not a choice to make lightly. You might want to reflect for a while on whether you really want to follow Jesus. I suggest that you think about it for, say, forty days.

Now Paul managed to endure all that suffering and still rejoice, still feel like he possessed everything. How did he do it? He had the weapons of righteousness with which to defend himself. He had “purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God.” He had faith in the God who saved the world. He had all that he needed because he knew the risen Christ. In the words that he wrote to the Philippians: “I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.”[4] I pray that we will all come to know Christ as Paul did. Amen.

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[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent.

[2] Donald K. McKim, Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996).

[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ash_Wednesday.

[4] Philippians 3:8-9. The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.