Christmas Eve: Not According to Plan

Christmas Eve: Not According to Plan

What God Plans and What God Promises May Never Be Frustrated

Luke 2:1-20

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Fri. December 24, 2020

Christmas was not going to plan. The river had flooded and damaged the organ. If they were going to celebrate midnight mass on Christmas Eve, they would need to find another instrument and use all new music. But what did they have for the guitar? They would have to be creative. The priest, Joseph Mohr, met with his organist and local schoolmaster Franz Xaver Gruber that day. Not too long ago Father Joseph had written a nifty little poem about the birth of Christ and wondered if his organist could put it to music and play it on the guitar. The nifty little poem was called Stille Nacht. And we know it as Silent Night.

We do not know how that midnight mass was received. It was, after all, not the ordinary Christmas eve service. But we do know that an organ builder became enamored with the little carol, and from there it became a hit. Now what was once a hastily assembled tune is a dearly beloved carol and fixture in all Christmas eve services. And to think no one would have ever heard of Silent Night were it not for a flooded church, and a last minute emergency. When things don’t go according to our plans, it doesn’t mean things aren’t going according to God’s plan. 

Let’s not forget that the first Christmas did not go to plan either. Mary was already with child when word came that the world was to be registered. They were required to go to Joseph’s ancestral home for the registration: Bethlehem. The journey would have been over 100 miles long, and would have taken four or five days. That is not an insignificant hardship. Joseph would have taken many days off from his work, and Mary knew she could be giving birth on the way. It is nothing either of them would have planned to do, but it was something they had to do.

To make matters worse, when they had made it to Bethlehem they had no place to say. While it was Joseph’s ancestral home it would seem Joseph did not have family left there. Or, if he did have family they didn’t see fit to prioritize the young couple. They searched the town for some place to stay, but there was no room for them anywhere. Finally one individual took pity on the couple and offered his barn. And so that is where they spent the night, a smelly barn with holy the animals to keep them warm. There, in a barn, hardly the most sanitary of conditions, Mary gave birth to Jesus. God was born in a stable. And he who the heavens cannot contain was wrapped in cloth, and laid in a manger. 

Certainly no one planned it this way. Doubtful Joseph wanted to make the journey. Doubtful Mary wanted to give birth in a barn. And yet, it had to be this way. By traveling to Bethlehem Mary and Joseph fulfilled the prophecy of Micah “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” (Micah 5:2) 

And it is not like Mary and Joseph were without blessing. God made sure they were safe through all of this. They did not need to fear bandits or disease, for God watched over them. God also blessed them by sending the angels to announce good news. Mary and Joseph were not alone that night. But they were visited by the shepherds, and heard their words of comfort, “We saw the angels light up the sky like it was the day” we might have heard them say, “And they told us, “Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” 

Regardless of human plans, regardless of human failings, regardless of the chances and circumstances of this life, God’s plan was fulfilled. On this day is born to us a savior. Christ. The Lord.

As in that cold December night in Bethlehem, or as in that cold and wet December night in Austria, we too face a Christmas that has not gone according to plan. We have not been able to hold our concerts, or our parties. It is a Christmas unlike any other. But we ought to take comfort in knowing that the first Christmas was not anything that went according to plan. And the greatest blessings in life are, perhaps, not those that we have planned. But the greatest blessings in life are those things that God has willed.

On Christmas we know what God wills for us. God wills for us hope, in being born for us in Jesus Christ. God wills for us peace, announcing peace by the song of the angels. God wills for us love, as the example of Christ’s life shows. The infant would grow into a man, a man who preached the Kingdom of God and showed God’s reign with his deeds of love and mercy. And God wills for us salvation, a salvation he won on the wood of the Cross. 

What matters this night is that we remember God’s will for us, and God’s promises for us. Whatever we may plan may be frustrated by human error or the chances of this life. But what God plans and what God promises may never be frustrated. It will not be frustrated by flooding of a Church. It will not be frustrated by the decree of an Emperor. It will not be frustrated by no room in the inn. And it will not be frustrated by the judgment of prelates or the wood of a cross. So God’s promises for us are certainly not frustrated tonight. But tonight, even tonight, we may know his hope, peace, love, and salvation.

Christmas: Holiness of Life

Christmas: Holiness of Life

God Calls All to Holiness

Luke 2:22-40

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 27, 2020

Dorothy Day was a Catholic writer and activist. She started her career as a journalist, but is best known as a co-founder of what would be called the Catholic Worker Movement. The movement was centered around houses of hospitality where people could come to live off the street. They ran soup kitchens, hosted times of teaching, held prayer together, and ran farms. The goal was a personalist revolution, Not a revolution through the state. Each person would love another person, and from there a new world would be born. When you read some of their earlier writings it’s hard not to be taken up in their fervor. “the Sermon on the Mount will be called practical” Peter Maurin, another Catholic Worker once wrote, “when Christians make up their mind to practice it.” 

Dorothy Day was both a beloved and reviled figure, in her day. She had a clear love for the poor and for Christ, matched with a pugnacious attitude. And she was not afraid to pick sides. Since her passing there’s been a movement among Catholics to have her recognized as a saint. I, of course, make no position on that either way. But I am reminded of one concern of hers. She is quoted as saying, “Don’t make me out to be a saint. I don’t want to be dismissed that easily.”

That line is characteristically Dorothy Day, and it says something about the way we treat those we call saints. We need to be careful not to put saints on a pedestal. If we put them on a pedestal it’s just one more way we dismiss their witness. Dorothy’s discomfort with being called a saint is that we might then say, “well that’s all well and good for her. She can do that. But I’m no saint.” Loving the poor, that’s for the saints. Daily prayer, that’s for the saints. Holiness of life, that’s for the saints. Me, I’m never going to be a saint. All I can do is get by. I suppose we do that to all heroes. They’re heroes because they’re heroic. As for myself, well, I’m just a guy.

The truth of the matter is that every saint is just another person. They have no innate abilities or qualities that you or I lack. A saint is a saint by the grace of God. Holiness of life does not come from our heroic will or good breeding, but simply by the grace of God. Why should we think otherwise? Salvation is by the grace of God, not by our works. And what is holiness of life but living out the grace of God? God has given us a gift, as we celebrate this Christmas. That gift is Jesus Christ. We show we have received that gift, we respond to that gift, when we live holy lives.

John Wesley struggled earlier in his life because he didn’t quite grasp this point. He dearly desired to have holiness of life. He wanted to be like those we might call saints. And so he engaged in rigorous disciplines. He mapped out his day so he had a certain amount of prayer time. He budgeted his income so that the most of it went to the poor. He worked and worked and worked, because he thought holiness of life was something that came by great effort and he was going to expend that effort. But when he had that famous experience at Aldersgate, when he felt his heart strangely warmed, what he recognized was that Jesus died for him, even him. God will use our discipline, and use our efforts. But it’s never our efforts that win holiness of life. It is always, entirely, the gift of God.

Holiness of life is not something withheld for the select few. Holiness of life is something that is offered to everyone. It is not about the efforts we might expend as much as our willingness and humility in receiving. God calls us to be his own. Will we accept the call? The Father wishes to adopt us, will we be so adopted?

Even Jesus is every bit a human being as you or I. It is easy for us to read the gospels and say, “well yeah, but he is God.” I can never love my neighbor the way Jesus loves, I can never love God as Jesus loves. While it is true Jesus is God, Jesus is also entirely human. Jesus knew our pains. Jesus knew our temptations. And Jesus had to grow.

This morning we read from Luke’s gospel about when Jesus is brought to the Temple. There Anna and Simeon offer blessings and prophecies about what will take place. This Jesus, this infant, will be the cause for the falling and rising of many in Israel, Simeon says. He will bring about the redemption of Jerusalem. A sword will pierce his mother’s heart. But this amazing infant is still an infant. And being a human infant sacrifice is made according to the Law. That is why Mary and Joseph are there. Being an infant he may be held in Simeon’s arms. And being an infant, “The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.”

Jesus, too, was once held in the arms of another. Jesus, too, wore diapers. Jesus, too, had to grow up. Jesus was not a super human. Jesus was every bit human, human to the bone. And this human knew no sin. This human had holiness of life. This human unites us to God through the cross. So that by him we too, merely human though we may be, may also know his holiness. May also know his love. May also know his life.

Let us not dismiss the saints, as if their example were only good stories to tell. God calls all of us to be saints. God calls all of us to be like his Son. And it’s not impossible. Nothing is impossible with God. All of us may be as joyful, happy, peaceful, and loving as Jesus. All of us many experience the love of God.

Gathering- Tabernacle

Gathering: Tabernacle

God Fulfills his Promise

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Luke 1:26-38

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 20, 2020

David, we are told, was a man after God’s own heart. When Saul had fallen away God called Samuel to anoint young David, though he was still a boy. While David was not the biggest, or the strongest, God told Samuel he does not look on the outside but he looks at the heart. So David was anointed, and God’s spirit was with him.

God defended David throughout his life. He protected him from the jealousy of Saul. He saved him from foreign armies. He watched over him as he dwelled among the Philistines at Gaza. And, ultimately, God made him King of all Israel. All the tribes would bow before David. David would subdue all of Israel’s enemies. And our Old Testament reading this morning begins when David has settled in his rich Kingly palace, as God had given him rest from his enemies.

David, the man after God’s own heart, called the prophet Nathan before him. David had a concern. “I live in this sumptuous palace of Cedar” David told Nathan, “but the ark of God stays in a tent.” Since the days of Moses the Ark of the Covenant was housed in a tent. The Ark was a box that contained various artifacts from the Israelites sojourn in Egypt, such as the Ten Commandments, some manna, and Aaron’s staff. Its cover, called the mercy seat, was made of gold, and depicted two cherubim on either side. The Ark was believed to be the footstool of God, and was so holy no one could touch it. When the Israelites took the Ark to battle they were certain of victory.  But when the Ark was not taken out for battle it was kept in the Tabernacle. There priests performed the sacrifices required by the Mosaic Law. 

While David lived in a mansion, God dwelt in a tent. And David thought this was downright wrong. David wanted to build a temple to the Lord to house his Ark. At first, Nathan agreed, and told David, “Go, do all that you have mind; for the LORD is with you.”

But that night God spoke to Nathan. He had never once asked for a house in all the centuries his ark remained in the tabernacle. Why would he need one now? No, instead he says I will build you a house, David. Not a house of cedar, which won’t stand the test of time. But I will build you a dynasty that will stand the test of time. An everlasting dynasty. An everlasting house. “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever.”

Such an astonishing promise. But at first it seems as if the promise was not kept. After Solomon’s reign, the Kingdom is split. By 587 BC the Kingdom of Judah is overcome by Babylon, and the house of David never has a King in Jerusalem again. And God does get a house built for his Ark. Solomon builds the Temple, a massive and extravagant house, far greater than the house of cedar David lived in. But that, too, would be lost. And with it, the Ark of the Covenant.

The Kingdom fallen, the house dispersed, the Temple destroyed, the Ark lost. It would seem God had abandoned his people, and that he had not kept his promise to David. There would be no everlasting kingdom, the throne would not be established forever.

But just as God did not desire an earthly Temple to show his glory, so too God does not require a temporal throne to fulfill his promise to David. 

In our Gospel reading we see the fulfillment of God’s promise to David.

But it’s in a way no one could expect.

We hear that in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. He tells her that she will conceive, and bear a son. His name will be Jesus. He will be great, he will be the son of God, and he will have the throne of David. He will rule over Israel forever. His Kingdom will have no end.

In the end God gets himself a home, and in the end David’s Kingdom has no end. God gets himself a home not made of rock and gold, but one made of flesh. God tabernacles not in cloth, but in this person Jesus Christ. As John reminds us, “the word became flesh, and tabernacled among us.” God is now this person, Jesus. Descendent of David. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. And he rules forevermore.

Unlike a Temple nothing can tear Jesus down. Unlike a worldly Kingdom no one can conquer him. There is no way to end his rule. He will reign. He must reign. He must reign until all enemies are trampled underfoot. This is God’s marvelous faithfulness, this is how God keeps his promise to David. Though human sin may seem to frustrate God’s promises, in the end it cannot. In the end God cannot be stopped. 

And as the people of Israel would stream from all around the world to worship at the one Temple, so too now the nations are called to stream in from all around the world and follow the one Lord. Jesus calls us together into his Kingdom. Jesus gives us life. And Jesus lets us know peace. And we all await that day, that day that is surely coming, when his rule will be undeniable in its fulness. 

Pondering

silhouette-nativity-scene-night_52683-51309.jpg

But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.- Luke 2:19

After a long day’s journey. After finding no place where she may lay her head. After being offered nothing better than a barn, because there was no room in the inn. Mary, who was great with child, gives birth to Jesus. It’s not the ideal circumstance, for Jesus or for Mary. I can’t imagine the hardship the whole ordeal put on the holy couple. But Luke does not record for us their complaining. And only this once does Luke give us any hint as to what was going on through Mary’s mind.

When the shepherds arrive telling Mary and Joseph about their vision of the angels, and the message they had to bring, we are told in the middle of that raucous commotion (do you think shepherds were soft and polite people?) Mary pondered these things in her heart. Her response is not annoyance, or frustration, or resignation. She reacts in wonder. She treasures the words of the shepherds. Treasures that cold night in the stable. Her son, the son of God, in a feeding trough. She wonders at it all in her heart.

Mary is a contemplative. She’s a contemplative because she wonders. She wonders at the grace of God. She wonders at the power of God. The wisdom of God. And wonders that after all these years it would come to this. God would redeem his people from their sins. She would be the mother of the King of Israel. How could she but stop and wonder?

This Christmas is hectic in its own way. But it also gives us opportunity to stop and wonder. To ponder these things in our hearts. The one whom the heavens could not contain, as Augustine puts it, was contained in a manger. He who has no beginning is born. He who’s got the whole world in his hands is held in the arms of his mother. Such is the gentle love of God.

Gathering- Joy

Gathering: Joy

Joy is Grounded in God’s Promise

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 13, 2020

For a few years now I’ve taken on a discipline during Advent. Unless it’s an emergency, or otherwise work related, I shut off all electronics in the house once the sun sets and there is no light on the horizon. That means my phone, my TV, my computer, are all put aside. The days are very short during Advent, in fact, they’re at their shortest around this time. At first it’s something of a hardship. I absent-mindedly pick up my phone only to quickly put it down. I grow restless. I try to think up various excuses for why it’s ok for me to check one last message. But after the first week I settle in. I come to enjoy quiet evenings with a book in front of the fire. I relish getting to bed early, and waking up early. What begins as deprivation turns into a simple pleasure. A simple pleasure I, of course, quickly give up as soon as the Christmas bells ring. But a pleasure I cherish each year I have opportunity.

Life is full of simple pleasures such as a quiet evening, a good cup of coffee, a hearty breakfast, a loving hug. As I’ve aged I’ve come to appreciate them more deeply. But the thing about earthly pleasures, simple or otherwise, is they are all momentary and fleeting. Eventually the coffee will grow cold, the night will grow long, the hug must be released. And as enjoyable simple pleasures may be, I don’t think they make up for the various ways we may suffer either. Live, laugh, love is a glib response to loneliness or grief. It’s simply not enough.

God wants more for us than pleasure. As Augustine points out in one of his sermons on the Psalms, God makes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust alike. So God, in his profligate liberality, gives wealth, health, and beauty indiscriminately. To the point we may wonder why some people are so blessed in the earthly pleasure department. But God reserves the greatest gift for those who fall in love with him, his own presence, the power of his grace, and true joy.

Today is Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday in Advent. Gautete is latin for “rejoice!” Traditionally we’d light the rose candle on the advent wreath, and meditate on the joy of God in the midst of waiting. Today I want to reflect on the joy God gives us. Joy that is more than a simple pleasure. While pleasures come and go, we can truly “rejoice always” as Paul exhorts. We can rejoice always because the source of joy is not in ourselves, but it is the work of God. Our joy is in the gospel.

In our Old Testament reading for this morning Isaiah says, “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Jesus would quote this scripture for his first sermon at Nazareth. The sermon was very short and simple. He simply sat down and said, “these words are fulfilled in your hearing.” 

Jesus is the anointed one, the messiah, who bears good news. He is the gospel in flesh. Gospel, of course, meaning good news. By Christ we receive good news, we are released from the bonds of sin, and we are given true liberty. We are set free to know the love of God. By the blood of his cross the price is paid, by his example and teaching we know the way that leads to life, by his grace we may be built up. “They shall build up the ancient ruins” Isaiah says, we may think of this as our hearts burdened and conquered by sin, “they shall repair the ruined cities.” 

As God promised restoration to the people of Israel, he promises restoration for us as well in Christ. The healing of our hearts, and the healing of our communities. As God restored Israel to Zion, we too may be restored in Christ and know the joy of salvation. As Isaiah says, “I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bridge adorns herself with her jewels.” We may rejoice not simply that our sins are forgiven, but that God desires to clothe us in righteousness, to adorn us as his own. Salvation is not bandaging up a wound. Salvation is truly healing the wound. 

Surely no greater gift has been given. The infinite life of God, shared with us in Christ.

In less than two weeks it will be Christmas. I have already packed presents under my tree. I put a lot of care in the presents I purchase. I want them to be meaningful, somewhat surprising, somewhat joyous, and perhaps a little more expensive than they should be. I get joy from sharing joy. I, of course, also get joy from getting presents too.

The joy the gospel gives is analogous to the joy we feel when we receive a gift. The gospel, the good news of God, is always being announced to us in the word of God and in prayer. Daily we can be reminded of the greatest gift of them all: Christ and the life he brings. An eternal life that can be experienced and known in the here and now, because Christ calls us in the here and now and wishes to make us his own today and tomorrow, and hereafter.

The joy of the gospel, then, is greater than the simple pleasures of Christmas because it is grounded in the promise of God. The joy we feel is our response to having received the great gift. The gift of God’s promise. Of God’s presence. Of the Holy Spirit. A gift far greater than any of us deserves. A gift that washes away our sins, transcends our loneliness, and makes us one in Christ. A gift that elicits joy, joy that can be known in all circumstances.

Gathering- Comfort

Gathering: Comfort

God’s Comfort Surpasses All Understanding

Isaiah 40:1-11

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. December 6, 2020

A Charlie Brown Christmas has been on network television for the Christmas season for 54 years. The majority of Americans do not remember a time before that depressing little tree and Hark the Herald Angels Sing. But this year Apple bought the rights to all the Peanuts specials, and so A Charlie Brown Christmas will only be available by streaming. I’ve heard a lot of people bothered by this move. For them watching A Charlie Brown Christmas was a tradition. Buying the special on DVD isn’t enough, it’s about gathering that evening and watching the special with the advertising. It’s about being connected to past memories. It’s about the comfort of knowing no matter what’s going on in the world, the tree will be decorated, Linus will give his monologue, and the kids will shout “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!”

This season is full of sentimental comforts like A Charlie Brown Christmas. We do not watch Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town for the plot or great acting. We don’t fear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer won’t make his way back to Santa. And we don’t worry that the Grinch might, this time, steal Christmas. These specials remain because they remind enough people of their childhood. And for that they are comfortable. The Hallmark Channel has made an empire telling the same story over and over because it’s a comfortable story, no one’s ever afraid the girl might not settle in to the small town with the man of her dreams and celebrate Christmas together.

Christmas specials, old carols, hot chocolate, the warm glow of the lights on the tree, we make Christmas a sentimental season of comfort. But to be honest with you, I don’t know if I can watch enough of It’s a Wonderful Life to get into that sentimental Christmas spirit. Not even Die Hard can do the trick. Maybe for a blip, maybe for a moment, but we are in a Christmas like no other. This is a Christmas where we need hope more than nostalgia. Where we need a different sort of comfort than the warm glow of sentimentality. We need a comfort that can only come from God.

This morning Isaiah says, “Comfort, O Comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” God speaks “comfort” and I think we all long to hear that this morning. A comfort that comes from forgiveness. The comfort of a tender parent. The comfort of God’s lovingkindness, tender heartedness, and mercy.

Last week I spoke of the power of sin, and how sin is not just a matter of doing bad things but sin also comes with a consequence. Sin alienates, it divides, it tears us apart. Ancient Israel experienced this aspect of sin. They turned from God to idols, they turned from justice to injustice, they turned from righteousness to sin, and they were torn apart. They were scattered. They were made to stand alone in a strange land. They experienced exile.

But in spite of it all God speaks “comfort.” A comfort that is not just feeling better about our experience of exile, but the end of our exile. “A voice cries out: ‘in the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, And all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

A highway! For the exiles this highway was from Babylon to Jerusalem. All the obstacles in wilderness were to be done away. The uneven ground made level, the rough places a plain. Their exile was to be undone, the shackles of their oppression broken, they were to be made God’s people again. Not on any account of their own righteousness, or the things that they did, but on account of God’s righteousness and God’s love for them.

This same word may be given to us today. We too may know the comfort of God. A comfort that is greater than a warm blanket or a hot chocolate or a Christmas special. A comfort that not only makes us feel better, but a comfort that makes our lives better. The comfort of God’s grace that would draw us back to him. The comfort of God’s forgiveness, of his love, and of being united with him with his family.

God’s plan for sin is not to leave us scattered, not to leave us in the exile of sin. But God’s plan for sin is to break it and to bring us back together in him. That is why he sends his son, whose coming we celebrate this Christmas. To draw us together, to die for our sake, that we might live in him.

Keep Alert

Gustave Doré

Gustave Doré

“Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.” Mark 13:33

The season of Advent has traditionally been set aside to meditate on the last things. In Advent we await the coming of the King. We wait, therefore, for the end. So we tend to think about that end, what it’ll be like, what it’ll look like. Many of our scripture readings assigned for advent concern the last days when Jesus will come again. They prophesy the day of the Lord, the sky turning dark, the moon turning to blood, and council us to be alert and ready for the day Jesus will return.

We have had a lot of end times expectation the past how many years. Whether it be The Late Great Planet Earth or Left Behind, many Christians have speculated on when the end will come, what it’ll look like, and whether Jesus’ return is immanent. How ironic, then, that the Bible itself, Jesus himself, is so adamant that we will never know the day or the hour. Jesus is to interested in imparting to us a blueprint for history. As if we could relax until the final few days and really get ourselves prepared. Jesus wants us to stay alert all days. We do not know the time. We may see the signs of the times, but those signs are often with us. So we may always be warned that the day is near.

Speculation can be fun, but we shouldn’t let it interfere with our walk with God. Who cares if you’re right about the events surrounding Jesus’ return if you spend your time obsessing over the events surrounding Jesus’ return and not being a disciple of Jesus Christ? There is one thing needful, as Jesus says, and that is to cling to Jesus in faith. What matters is staying alert, staying in prayer, and serving God and others.

Gathering-Sin

Gathering: Sin

Sin Will Tear Us Apart

Isaiah 64:1-9

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. November 29th, 2020

The story of Israel is a story of gathering and exile and re-gathering. God gathers his people from slavery in Egypt and plants them in the promised land. The people turn from God, turn to idols, and are scattered. God returns the people to Israel, and promises to gather them all together again. Our reading from Isaiah is from this time of exile, when the Jews in Jerusalem were captured and sent to Babylon. The prophet yearns for the presence of God, and the restoration of his people, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down” he cries, “so that the mountains would quake at your presence.”

Imagine the pain the prophet must have been going through. Losing his homeland, yes. The destruction of the Temple, yes. And being isolated. Alone. Cut off from friends and family. Forced to make do in a strange new world. Perhaps, to some degree, we have some commonality with the prophet’s pain. To some degree we feel it ourselves. This is the first Sunday of Advent, and normally we gather together under boughs of evergreen and among the lights and we remind each other of the coming of Jesus. We eagerly await Christmas parties and family returning home. Or we might eagerly await going to see family. 

But this year things are different. It will have almost been a year since COVID first hit. There are those of us who have stayed put, keeping ourselves safe, for almost a year. It’s been almost a year of remaining distant, and wearing masks. It’s been almost a year of precarity and strangeness. It’s been almost a year of living, I’m sure we would agree, in ways we are not really meant to live. We are made for each other. We are made to enjoy one another’s company. We are not made to stay in one place for too long, or to be apart for too long.

So we do know a bit of the pain of exile. We have some sense of what it must have been like for the world you once knew to come toppling down, and to be shoved into a strange new world of alienation and loneliness. 

The loneliness we may feel not only imitates the pain of exile, but it is also an imitation of the pain of sin. Now I want to be clear here. I’m not saying it’s sinful to stay home. I’m not saying that the pandemic is here on account of any particular sinfulness of ours. I’m not in the business of making such judgments. I abide by the old rule that when you’re pointing your finger at someone you got three more pointed back at you. But I do think the experience of separating ourselves, much like the experience of exile for the ancient Jewish people, can inform us about the consequences of sin. It reminds us how sin works in our lives.

Isaiah attributes the exile to sin. “You meet those who gladly do right, those who remember you in your ways. But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed. We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.” Isaiah offers a lament and a confession. The people of Israel did not perceive God’s presence, and so they relied instead on themselves. They put their trust in their own righteous deeds, which are like a filthy cloth. They sinned. Sinning is oftentimes relying on ourselves and not putting trust in God.  And on account of their sin they faced ruin. On account of their sin they were split apart.

I’m reminded of a little allegory, if I can call it an allegory, that C.S. Lewis once wrote called The Great Divorce. It’s the depiction of a dream I have to assume Lewis pretends to have. In the dream he has a dreadful vision of Hell that has always remained with me (I bet you were expecting a sermon touching on Hell for Advent, right?). He imagines a dark and drab city in perpetual twilight where it’s always raining. As he walks through the city he doesn’t come across anyone, until he arrives at a bus stop. There he sees two men fighting in line to get on the bus. As the story progresses this picture of Hell comes into greater focus. The people there are irritable, resentful, and wrathful. They can’t stand each other. Everyone is complaining about someone else. There is one former bishop who is part of a book club, and he insists that he is the only one who knows anything that’s going on. 

Another person explains that the worst part about the afterlife is you’d expect to run into some interesting people, but all of the interesting people have left. As it turns out building a new house is just as easy as imagining it up. So as people get into arguments they get up and walk off. So the most interesting people you’d expect to run into, have all moved thousands of years away. The figure explains how a friend of his went to go see Napoleon.

About fifteen thousand years of our time it took them. We’ve picked out the house by now. Just a little pin prick of light and nothing else near it for millions of miles.’

‘But they got there?’

‘That’s right. He’d built himself a huge house all in the Empire style—rows of windows flaming with light, though it only shows as a pin prick from where I live.’

‘Did they see Napoleon?’

‘That’s right. They went up and looked through one of the windows. Napoleon was there all right.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘Walking up and down—up and down all the time—left-right, left-right—never stopping for a moment. The two chaps watched him for about a year and he never rested. And muttering to himself all the time. “It was Soult’s fault. It was Ney’s fault. It was Josephine’s fault. It was the fault of the Russians: It was the fault of the English.” Like that all the time. Never stopped for a moment. A little, fat man and he looked kind of tired. But he didn’t seem able to stop it.’

Lewis’ image of Hell isn’t ironic tortures in a series of concentric circles, but it’s an intensification of sin in this life, and an intensification of the way sin causes us to suffer. Instead Hell is drab and despairing. People grow to be so consumed by their sins that they get into constant fights, they simply can’t control themselves. They grow isolated, alienated, and alone.

But Lewis also mentions that old bus stop. In his vision of Hell there is a bus that runs from Hell to Heaven. It’s absolutely free. It’s never out of service. All you have to do is get on it, and you make it to the fields of heaven. But it just happens that some people never bother to make the walk. Their sins are too much, and they find all sorts of excuses to go back to their misery.

Sin is not exciting, it’s not pleasurable, all that wears off quickly. Sin is actually suffering. It damages us. It consumes us. And it tears us apart. It builds walls of self-righteousness and resentment. It hides us in the shadows of secrecy. It alienates us from God, and it alienates us from one another. And in this season we surely know the pain of alienation, we sense how dehumanizing and destructive it can be.

But I’m not ending this without good news. The good news is that there is a regathering. The good news is that God does not leave his people in exile. The good news is that this season will be over, and we will gather again. And the good news is that God has promised the cleansing of our sin, and wants to set us right with him and with one another. We will talk more about that next week.

Thanksgiving

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.- 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Really? Give thanks in all circumstances?

When I get sick I’m supposed to give thanks?

When I get a hangnail I’m supposed to give thanks?

When I get into a bitter argument I’m supposed to give thanks?

When a loved one dies I’m supposed to give thanks?

When I don’t even know what the future holds I’m supposed to give thanks?

But that is what Paul counsels the Thessalonians. Give thanks in all circumstances. It’s easy to take the easy route and think Paul is some Pollyanna. That is, everything with him is just cheerfulness and light. We might think he was so heavenly minded he was no earthly good. That he never knew suffering.

But that’s just not true. “I’ve been beaten more times than I can count. I’ve faced death many times. I received the forty lashes minus one from the Jews five times. I was beaten with rods three times. I was stoned once. I was shipwrecked three times. I spent a day and a night on the open sea.” (2 Corinthians 11:23-25) Paul certainly knew suffering. He was not above it all. But still he can say, with a straight face, give thanks in all circumstances.

Paul doesn’t tell us to give thanks in all circumstances because all circumstances are good. He’s not asking us to deny reality. But rather, “this is God’s will for you.” It is God’s will that we would be thankful. But not just that, it is God’s will “in Jesus Christ.”

We can afford to be thankful in all circumstances when we know God’s will for us in Jesus Christ. When we grasp all that God has won for us on the cross, when we experience his forgiveness and mercy, when we are hope in the New Creation God has promised, we will give thanks in each and every circumstance. Because we know God stands above each and every circumstance. We know who holds tomorrow, as the hold hymn goes. Our thankfulness is not a broad and general thankfulness of how good the world is. Our thankfulness is in Christ who has won for us the victory and may show us his grace in the midst of every circumstance. So let us be thankful, for that is the will of God in Christ for us.

Living in the End Times- Lords

Living in the End Times: Lords

Christ’s Lordship is Exercised in Love

Matthew 25:31-46

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. November 22nd, 2020

In this world there are many lords and many Gods. But only one true Lord and one true God. There are many lords and many gods who will try and ensnare us. They are like vampires, sucking the life out of us. But there is only one true Lord and one True God who gives us life. We are worshipping creatures, we are always searching for a Lord, we need a God to put at the center of our lives. St. Augustine once said, “our hearts are restless Lord until we find our rest in you.” We will cling to the false gods if we do not know the real one.

I’m not talking about different religions as much as I’m talking about the real concrete things that can rule our every day lives. I knew one person who went through some hard times. He had been married more than once, and his wife had recently died tragically and suddenly. Around the same time he was having his own medical issues. He hadn’t managed his diabetes well and was having trouble with his big toe. It all added up to a great deal of resentment and anger. I remember one day I went over to visit, and he stopped the conversation so he could run out and berate a boy walking home from school for pulling a dandelion on the tree lawn and throwing it onto the sidewalk. His wrath consumed him. And it wasn’t much longer before he succumbed to an infection. It was one of the sadder moments in my ministry because I felt like there was more that I could do, but I didn’t know what. He followed his wrath and resentment like it was his Lord, he nursed it, brought it to health, and submitted to it.

Or, to give another example of what I mean, I have talked to many people who expressed regret that they spent so much time on their jobs and not enough caring for those they love. This is a touchier subject, because it’s not simply a matter of one person following their lord. As if we choose to have employment and could do otherwise. But we as a society have come to serve efficiency, productivity, and profit to the point where we make ourselves lay aside other things we say matter.

Our fears, our doubts, our anger, can all become lords or gods to us. So can jobs, money, or sports teams. They are agents of sin, rough taskmasters who rule over us and like vampires suck us dry. In these last days there are many such gods, many such lords. Part of life in the end times is renouncing false gods and proclaiming the one true God who alone gives life. Sharing the good news of salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jesus tells a parable about judgment. He says when the Son of Man comes in glory with all the angels he will gather the nations before him and separate them to his right and his left, like a shepherd separates the sheep and the goats. And he will say to those on his right, “come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” But the righteous will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food?” And so on. And the King will reply “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” And also he will turn to those on his left, and tell them to depart to the eternal fire, because though they saw Jesus hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and in prison they did nothing for him. 

I think it’s important to note no one thought they were serving Jesus when they served his poor sisters and brothers. Or, no one thought they were abandoning Jesus when they abandoned his poor sisters and brothers. Instead, it is Jesus who identifies with the least of these and he counts what we do to care for the least, as what we do to care for the King.

If we are to be servants of Christ, as we may serve any other god or Lord, then we must be about serving our brothers and sisters. When Jesus speaks of “the least of these, members of my family” he is referring to our fellow Christians. Not that we are called to be insular and abandon the least who are not Christian, but I think it’s oftentimes harder to care for those closest to us than it is to care for those farthest away. We know the warts of those closest to us. We may think they got what they deserved. When we show love to our brothers and sisters we may better show love to all we come across.

To follow the Lordship of Jesus, then, is to love personally. And to love at a personal cost. It’s not enough for us to try and do good for those far away. If we are to serve our Lord, we serve our Lord through what we do for the least in our midst. What we do for the least in our midst Jesus will count as what we did for him. And we will truly be servants of our King and Lord.

That is how his rule is exercised, and that is what service to the King looks like. It is love. Personal love. Forgiving love. Merciful love. Love at a cost. Love that forms bonds. And in these end times Jesus has given us time to practice this love, in all its messiness and difficulty. In all its joys and abundant blessings. We are given opportunity to be partakers of his Kingdom, as we extend the grace of love. The grace that flows from God.

More on Faith

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So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.- Romans 10:17

Pastors, like music teachers, have to think about Christmas a little earlier than anyone else. I’ve got my mind on Christmas. I’ve been putting together an advent study, and I’ve been putting together my sermons for advent. I’ve also been in discussions with others about what Christmas Eve might look like this year with COVID. So naturally my mind is also on the rest of the Christmas season: George Bailey, Charlie Brown, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Santa, hot chocolate, and John McClane.

I’ve also been thinking about Christmas presents. I’ve got a few already purchased, and I’m trying to figure out what else I might get. It’s very appropriate that we exchange gifts on Christmas, because the exchange of gifts reminds us of grace. Grace, as Paul uses it, means the favor that accompanies a gift. When God shows us grace, God is showing his unmerited favor in the gift of Jesus Christ. Faith, then, is our response to God’s grace. It is our response to the unmerited gift of Christ.

When I get a gift I feel grateful, I feel joy, and I feel the need to return a gift that the gift giver might share in my joy. Faith is similar in that way. Faith is our joyous response to God’s grace. But it is also the gift of God, in that we would never know faith were it not for the gift.

Paul tells us faith comes from hearing. That is to say, faith comes from hearing the gospel call. Faith is not something that we have to do. It is not something that we have to conjure up in ourselves. I am not the source of my own faith. But rather God is the source of our faith, the faith we are gifted by encountering God in his gospel.

Living in the End Times: Talents

Living in the End Times: Talents

God is in control

Matthew 25:14-30

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. November 15th, 2020

Matthew ends his Gospel with Jesus on a mountain in Galilee with his disciples. He gives them this charge: “I’ve received all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations.” Jesus lets his disciples know that he has received all authority, he is in control, and so they can go and make disciples in his name. Too often we think of the end times as this period of great turbulence, persecution, and suffering. That is, after all, how it gets painted in Left Behind. But here Jesus is telling his disciples what to do in the time they have been given: make disciples.

There will be and there are wars, persecutions, pestilences, earthquakes, and all the rest. But more to the point the last days are the days God is giving us. And they are not days that God has somehow lost control over. But God is always in control. God gives us these days that we would have the opportunity to join in his mission, to seek the lost, to celebrate the Kingdom of God.

Jesus tells a parable this morning about our mission in the end times, and how we should go about that mission. He says the Kingdom of God is like a man who was going on a journey. Before he left he summoned his slaves and entrusted property to them, each according to their ability. To one he gave five talents, an enormous sum. To another he gave two talents, also a great sum. And to the last he gave one talent, still a fortune. After the master leaves the one who received the five talents goes to trade them at once, soon doubling his yield. The one who was given two talents also doubled his talents through trade. But the slave who received the one talent simply dug a hole in the ground, hiding his master’s money until he would return.

After a long time the master did return, and settled accounts with his slaves. The one who was given five talents produces five more talents. The master is delighted, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter the joy of your master.” The slave with the two talents also produced two more talents, and the master responded in the same way “Well done, you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things.” Though the master recognized the two slaves had different abilities, they both manage the same yield and are both given the same reward.

But then the master comes to the lazy slave with the one talent. He says, “I knew you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.” In other words, he calls him a thief. Not a way to get on the good side of your master.

As you might imagine it does not go well. “You wicked and lazy slave!” He cannot understand why his slave did not simply invest his money with bankers, so he might receive interest. So he takes the talent away and gives it to the one with ten talents. “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.”

The wicked slave’s mistake is he misjudges his master, and he misjudges the task. He knows his master can be harsh. He knows his master does not even need him to do anything with his property. The master seems to have disregard for his property and the property of others. He feared this might all be some plot. He feared he might lose out on his investments. And then he’d really get in trouble. So fearing the master, and fearing the task, he simply hid the talent, returning to the master what he already owned. But his master did not want what he already owned. He wanted a higher yield. 

The wicked slave misjudged both his master and the task. His master is not a miser looking to trip up his servants. And the task was not enormous, the two other slaves could easily double what they were given. So he doesn’t even go about the task. Instead he is tossed aside for being worthless.

The master is God. The slaves are the Church. And we are all given talents. We may be given a whole lot of time on our hands. We might be given some special skills. We might be given resources. We might be given friends. We might be given an outgoing and boisterous nature. We might be given a cool head. We might be given a love for prayer. We might be given musical talent. Whatever it is we are given, God wants us to put it to the mission. And God expects a yield.

We can easily find ourselves in the mindset of the wicked and lazy slave. Jesus says the harvest is plentiful and the laborers are few. But do we believe him? Jesus tells us to go make disciples, but do we believe that is our task? Or do we assume the task is insurmountable? Do we assume the harvest is scarce and the laborers are simply not up for the task?

But God promises he has given us gifts. And God assures us the harvest is plentiful. God calls us to his mission, to spread the good news and share his love. When I was up north I noticed one of the local churches was having a turnaround. I knew some of the members there and there was just a new spirit about them, and they would host community services that were well attended. I asked the pastor there what was going on. He told me it all started with a prayer meeting on Wednesday evenings. They’d get together for a meal, a short devotion, and then break off into groups and pray. By turning to God in that way, people saw doors being opened. More contributed their talents. And God gave the growth.

I was also involved in another church that had known some rough patches in the years previous, but at that time were doing fairly well. I asked an older member what a previous pastor had done to turn it around. She said “missions.” They committed to a second offering for missions every Sunday. And God blessed them.

Jesus says, “I am with you.” He says “All authority has been given to me.” He tells us “therefore go.” There is no trick here. We don’t need to worry about an absent God. We don’t need to worry about a harsh God. God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. And he calls us to use our talents to spread that good news in these final days.`

Carrying Our Cross

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Whoever doesn’t carry their own cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.- Luke 14:27

I don’t know about you but sometimes I fall into the trap of wondering if I believe hard enough. I think it’s a real temptation Satan throws our way. I’ll be in the midst of my prayers and in the back of my head will be a nagging “did you really mean that?” Sometimes I’ll be out on a walk thinking about heaven and wonder if I can imagine it, and if I can’t imagine anything if I can really believe it. I can’t imagine this is just me. There are all sorts of things in this world we all take for granted without a second’s thought, but when it comes to the things of God we stop and wonder “do I really believe this hard enough?”

Perhaps that comes from growing up hearing sermons that ended in a call to pray the sinners prayer. “If you have faith then say this prayer and you will be saved.” And every time we got to that point I would wonder if I believe hard enough, or rightly enough, or purely enough.

I was reading the above verse in Luke recently, and it occurred to me that Jesus does not ask his disciples to believe in him hard enough. It’s hard to tell what it means to believe in something hard enough. That’s why I think it’s a temptation in the end. But what Jesus asks his disciples to do is to take up their cross and follow. Jesus doesn’t ask for a strong enough inner sense of believing him. Jesus asks that we put our money where our mouth is. He asks us to act when the rubber meets the road. He asks us to pick up our cross and follow.

That can be harder, but it is also clearer. The phrase “take up your cross” is purposefully evocative. Jesus is asking that we put everything else aside for his sake. That we put our lives in service to his Lordship. That we should be merciful, forgiving, loving, and truthful. James says “faith without works is dead.” (James 2:17) When he said that he didn’t mean to disparage faith. He meant that focusing on faith without works is a trap. “Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds.” (James 2:18) We know what we believe because we act on it. Do we believe in Jesus? Do we have faith? Do we have faith “hard enough”? That can only be known by our fruits. We’ve got to act on it.

Living in the End Times: Bridesmaids

Living in the End Times: Bridesmaids

Get your oil for the long haul

Matthew 25:1-13

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. November 8th, 2020

We are living in the end times. Now maybe when I say that you imagine me as some crazed preacher on the street corner like in the movies. Or maybe you imagine me as one of those bible prophecy preachers on the TV. Or maybe your mind goes to the various potential apocalypses we hear about on the news: climate change, environmental disaster, plague, social collapse. But we Christians have always thought we were living in the end times. We’ve been living in the end times since Jesus rose from the dead. Jesus’ resurrection is the beginning of the end, and we will all join him in his life on that final day that has no end. In the mean time, in these end times, we are called to live admit the wars and rumors of wars, the earthquakes, famines, and droughts, faithfully.

In Matthew 25 Jesus tells three parables. He tells the parable of the Ten Bridesmaids, the parable of the Talents, and the Parable of the sheep and the goats. All three parables concern what it means to live faithfully in the end times. What does discipleship look like in this interim between Jesus’ resurrection and the resurrection of the dead? Today we heard the first of three parables, the parable of the Ten Bridesmaids. Here Jesus counsels us to stay alert, and be ready for the long haul, because we do not know the day or the hour of his return.

Jesus tells us there are ten bridesmaids. Five of them are wise, five of them are foolish. There’s not much to distinguish both groups of bridesmaids. They are all dressed waiting for the festivities to begin. They all bear lamps. Their lamps were likely sticks covered in oily rags. They all wait for the groom to arrive and escort his bride to be to his home. They all grow drowsy as the groom is late in arriving. Very late in arriving it seems. And they all fall asleep. But the wise are prepared for the night to be long, and are prepared for the groom’s delay. They got extra oil for their lamps. The foolish virgins did not prepare for the long haul, and they did not pack extra oil.

So when the cry comes “Look! The groom! Come out to meet him!” The bridesmaids all stand at attention. They prepare their lamps for the coming of the groom so they might light his way as he escorts his bride to be to the celebration. But the five foolish bridesmaids do not have any oil left for their lamps. “Give us some of your oil,” they say to the wise ones, “because our lamps have gone out.”

But the wise bridesmaids did not pack enough oil for themselves and the foolish ones. If they give the foolish bridesmaids some of their oil, there will not be enough for themselves to make the trip. So they tell the foolish bridesmaids to go and buy some more oil for themselves. But while the foolish ones leave to buy oil late at night, probably waking up some groggy oil seller, the groom arrives and leaves with his bride to be.

The foolish bridesmaids rush to the wedding, surely embarrassed by their lack of preparation. I’m sure we’ve all been to a wedding where something didn’t go right. In this case, failing to be there when the groom arrived was unforgivable. They come to the door and yell, “Lord! Lord! Open the door for us!” But the groom replies, “I tell you the truth, I don’t know you.”

The Groom is Christ, the Bride is his Church. We are the bridesmaids, and we live in the night. We all await the coming of the Groom, who pledged himself to his Church. But he does not come immediately. He is patient, and gives many time to repent. So seeing as he is patient, seeing as we do not know the day or the hour, we need to be prepared for the long haul. We need to have oil for our lamps.

All the bridesmaids had the lamp of faith. All of them called the groom Lord. But only the wise ones kept oil for the long haul. And that is Jesus’ message for us today. The wise disciple keeps oil for the long haul.

What is that oil for the long haul? If the lamp is our faithfulness, the oil is what keeps that lamp burning bright. It’s not enough to have that one mountain top experience, that one great conversion experience, if you do not make use of the oil God provides to keep that lamp burning. When I’d go to Bible camp Friday was always the day that things were brought to a spiritual fervor. That is when we were given an opportunity to renew our faith, or to commit our lives to Christ for the first time. I’m sure many of here have had that experience, or a similar experience. And people would say, “I wish I could carry this through the rest of my life.” And we were told the importance of remembering this moment, the importance of carrying it along when we leave. And I’m sure when God plants seeds he expects to see a harvest. But generally speaking, we ended up back where we were before we went to camp after a few weeks.

When John Wesley was preaching his friend George Whitfield was also preaching. And Whitfield was a far better preacher than Wesley. He was far more well known than Wesley. When George Whitfield came to America thousands swarmed to see him. Benjamin Franklin himself, though a deist, felt he had to go see what all the fuss was about. And walked away impressed. Whitfield has been called the first true celebrity. But John Wesley’s ministry left a far stronger mark on Britain and on America than Whitfield’s. Why? But at the end of his life Whitfield said that his ministry was like a rope of sand, because while he might be able to convict people of their sins and preach Christ, he gave them no follow up. Whereas his friend John established the Methodist Society and the class meeting. So all who listened to his preaching had an opportunity to join a small group of prayer and accountability. Wesley’s movement grew, Whitfield’s died with Whitfield.

Whitfield gave people lamps. And he was really good at it. But Wesley also gave people oil. He preached Christ, and he preached the means of grace. He gave people opportunity to grow in prayer, in bible reading, in service to others. He called on Methodists to come to the communion table often. And emphasized the importance of Christian fellowship in our walk with the Lord. The means of grace are those ordinary and dependable ways God imparts to us his blessings and presence. God works through the means of grace to strengthen our faith, and make us more like Christ.

John Wesley gave people oil for their lamps. And we all need oil for our lamps if we want to be ready for the long haul. The means of grace are oil for our lamps, strengthening us in faithfulness, drawing us closer to the love of God in Christ. Let us attend to the means of God’s grace in this time of God’s patience.

All Saints Sermon

All Saints

God’s Grace is Sufficient

Revelation 7:9-17

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. November 1st, 2020

One day I was taking a history class when the teacher said, “When people ask ‘who is the smartest person to ever live?’ the answer is usually Einstein, or Da Vinci, or Thomas Aquinas. When, in all likelihood, the smartest person to ever live as probably a peasant who never had the chance to exercise their gifts.” That stuck with me, and I think it’s true. Someone’s fame or accomplishment can’t tell us how smart a person is, because there are all sorts of people who never had the opportunity, or were left to languish in obscurity.

Christians have also recognized this simple truth. Though as Christians we prize holiness above intelligence. We have our own heroes, our own bright lights of fame and accomplishment. We’ve taken to calling them saints, or holy ones. From the earliest days of the Church we have passed on stories about the great deeds and awe inspiring faithfulness of those who have gone before. The Book of Acts is a history of these great heroes of the faith. How Stephen suffered martyrdom, how Paul fearlessly preached the gospel to Agrippa. We also tell stories of St. Lawrence, he of the river, how when Caesar asked him to produce the wealth of the Church he came before Caesar with the orphan, the widow, and the poor. When he was sentenced to death by fire for his insolence, he is said to have told his killers, “turn me over I’m done on this side.” St. Lawrence became known as the patron saint of comedians.

Then there’s St. Patrick who delivered the gospel to Ireland, bravely standing up to the tribes there. St. Francis who gave up all that he had to live the life of a beggar, and through word and deed preached the gospel of Jesus Christ wherever he went. There’s Dirk Willems, an anabaptist who was arrested for heresy. He escaped his prison by tying rags together into a rope. It was winter time and the moat was covered with thin ice. As he fled his pursuer, the guard fell through the ice. Rather than take that as his opportunity to escape, Dirk loved his enemy as himself, and saved the man’s life. The guard thanked him by recapturing him, and he was martyred. And I would be remiss if I did not bring up the example of John and Charles Wesley who devoted their lives to preaching the gospel in the British Isles, to setting up small groups where people could share their testimony and receive accountability in their walk with the Lord, and led to the salvation of thousands.

We have many, many heroes of the faith. But we recognize that God’s grace is lavish and unlimited. Though we know the names of thousands of saints, we also know there are many ordinary saints. In fact, there are probably saints whose names are only known here in this town, whose memory is only carried by those who once knew them. Individuals who gave tirelessly, prayed unceasingly, whose lives were full of the love of God. People who, when you met them, there was a life in their eyes.

All Saints is dedicated to all of those ordinary saints who we knew in our own walk, who have gone to be with the Lord, and whose example informs our faith even today. In our reading from the Book of Revelation this morning we see an image of that great cloud of witnesses, the Church triumphant that sits before the throne in worship. We are told, “I looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. They were from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They were standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands.” Just before this John had the vision of the 144,000 sealed from the twelve tribes. First he hears how 12,000 have been sealed from Judah, 12,000 sealed from Reuben, 12,000 sealed from Gad, and so on. 144,000 is a lot of people! Especially back then. But 144,000 is also a definite number. As if God’s grace had found its limit, as if these were the saints, and no more. There are some who still believe something like this today.

But salvation is not limited to the 144,000, those sealed from the tribes of Israel are not the only ones making their way to heaven. Instead John looks and there is an innumerable crowd made up of people from all times and places. They all had endured tribulation, and they all had washed their clothes in the blood of the lamb. And they now live eternally, shepherded by the lamb who gives them the water of life.

God has many, many children. Who can count the saints? Why, they are more numerous than the sand on the seashore or the stars of heaven. And we have known them. Saints have been placed in our life, by the grace of God, that we might better know his love for us. They are tangible proof of God’s grace, and God’s love. And we remember them all today, all they have meant for us, all that God worked through them. Knowing that God calls all of us to love him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Knowing we are all called to perfection in love. We are all called to be saints. And God gives all of us more than enough to grow in love.

Jesus and Politics: The Kingdom of God

Jesus and Politics: Kingdom of God

Our Citizenship is in Heaven

Matthew 22:34-46

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. October 25th, 2020

I was crossing an overpass when my guide stopped me. “There,” he said, “that is where I grew up.” He was pointing down to the freeway. That morning he had offered to give me a guided tour through his home neighborhood. We had met at a local breakfast that was offered to the poor. He was homeless, but worked washing dishes late at night. He hoped to save enough money to get back to his feet. He told me about his life story, the mistakes he made, how he got to where he was. But he also wanted to let me know the sorrow of visiting his old neighborhood. Much of it was boarded up. Trash was all over the streets. It wasn’t the sort of place I’d want to go without someone to guide me.

He explained how the neighborhood elders agreed to let the freeway run through the neighborhood, just about when he became a teenager. Before that it was a self sustaining black neighborhood with its own hospital and theater and college. “James Brown would come to give concerts”, he told me. But once the freeway gutted the residential part of the neighborhood many people had to leave. He moved to a new low income development out of town with his folks. And that’s when he fell in with the wrong crowd. 

It was a very moving experience for me to hear his story and to see what had become of his old home. It changed the way I looked at that town, and changed the way I understood the decisions cities make. And it was all because I agreed to spent a morning with someone that, for the most part, we only had kind conversations about football trivia. I agreed to spend my time with him, and he reciprocated that act of love by sharing his story. Without that opportunity and that encounter I’d be a very different person. And I never would have met him if it weren’t for my somewhat naive attempt to follow the commands of Jesus. Not simply to love, but to give to those who ask, and to care for the least of these.

This morning Jesus concludes his arguments with the Pharisees, Sadducees, Lawyers, and Herodians. He does so by talking about the Law and about his Lordship. About his ultimate authority and his command to love.

“What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?” Of course the question would rest on Jesus’ messiahship. The messiah, or the Christ, was the prophesied King who would restore the Kingdom of Israel. The Pharisees longed for the coming of the Messiah, the anointed one. The Sadducees and Herodians feared the wannabe messiahs who were a dime a dozen in those days.

The belief was the Messiah would raise an army, and with God’s help kick the Romans out of Israel. He would cleanse the temple, restore proper sacrifice, and instruct the nations in the Law of Moses. Israel would become a land of peace, and the center of the earth. The messiah was also to come from the line of David, and would restore the Davidic monarchy in Israel. That is why when Jesus asks, “whose son is he?” They reply, “David’s.”

Jesus then turns them to Psalm 110. "How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying, 'The Lord said to my Lord, "Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet?’” That would seem to be a conundrum. If the messiah is David’s son, who would be inferior to David, why does David write this Psalm, which was taken to be about the Messiah, where he calls him his Lord? “If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?"

That question is enough to silence his opponents. In fact, they do not even dare to ask him any more questions. But it should not silence us. Because we have read to the end of the story, and we have learned the secret about the Messiah. The Messiah is not the son of David, who would come to restore Israel as just another monarchy. The Messiah is not just another military ruler, just another great King. But the Messiah is the son of God. The Messiah was David’s Lord, and is our Lord. And the Messiah comes not to simply restore Israel but to usher in the Kingdom of God.  And the Messiah comes not simply to save Israel, but to save all who call upon his name in faith.

Jesus has a Lordship that is greater than King David’s. And a Lordship that is greater than all the powers of the earth. As Paul says, “every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

We talked about this last week. We should never forget where our ultimate allegiance lies. We owe our all to Jesus, who has won the victory over death. We have a citizenship on earth, but our true citizenship is in heaven. And we are called, too, to live as citizens of heaven. And how do we live as citizens of heaven? But Jesus told us when he told us on what two commandments all the Law and prophets lie. “'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”

Love God. Love Neighbor. On this rests the Law and the prophets. 

If we swear our allegiance to Christ, and if we are citizens of the Kingdom of God then we will exercise that citizenship in love. Taking the time to truly listen and understand where other people are coming from. Showing kindness. Having the humility to admit we may be wrong. Not crowing when we turn out to be right. Looking out not just for our own interests but the interests of others. Yet also not cowering, standing up for what we know to be true and good even when it might not be opportune.

In this election let’s remember that we swear allegiance to Christ who is Lord, and not whoever happens to hold the office of the president. Let’s remember we have that common allegiance. So we are called to love as he loved, to be kind as he was kind, and to acknowledge that the Kingdom of God will not come from whoever we decide to vote for. The Kingdom of God will come by the grace and mercy of God.

The Harvest is Plentiful

Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest.”- Matthew 9:37-38

How convinced are we that the harvest is plentiful?

In The United Methodist Church we can resign ourselves to decline. We watch as local congregations slowly age and dwindle. The offering goes down as the costs of upkeep go up. And our own denomination is caught up in debates over sexuality, debates that look to be leading to some split. Not to mention we are in the middle of a once in a century pandemic. When you gather all the facts it can be hard to see how the harvest is plentiful, as Jesus says.

But Jesus’ disciples also faced many drawbacks. They could only travel as far as their feet could carry them. Jesus forbade them from carrying any money, or even a backpack. None of them had an education. They were left with nothing but their own witness. Yet Jesus tells them “the harvest is plentiful.” The harvest isn’t plentiful because of what we have, or because of who we are. The harvest is plentiful because of who God is. Though the disciples were sent without any food, money, or a backpack, they were sent with with Holy Spirit. It is God who brings the harvest, not our great programming or our rousing preaching. 

Since it is the power of God that brings about the harvest Jesus tells his disciples first to pray. “Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest.” Prayer is the beginning of evangelism. And prayer is the beginning of our witness. I know some people who are gregarious, boisterous, and can make a friend out of anyone. They revel in the chance to witness to God’s grace and share the gospel. But I know a good many more people who aren’t that way. Whether you are outgoing, whether you are more quiet, God calls all of us first and foremost to pray. Pray that God would send workers into his harvest. Pray that all of us may be given that opportunity to share what we have found.

The harvest is not dependent on how good we are. The harvest is dependent on the faithfulness of God. And God has proven himself to be faithful. So when he says “the harvest is plentiful” you can take it to the bank. The harvest is plentiful. It’s the laborers who are few. So let us pray that God would give disciples more opportunities to go into the harvest.

Jesus and Politics: Render Unto Caesar

Jesus and Politics: Render Unto Caesar

God Deserves All

Matthew 22:15-22

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. October 18th, 2020

We are in the middle of yet another presidential election. Once again it is the most important election of our lifetimes. Parties and their committees want us to know how much is at stake. They want us to know how terrible their opponent is. What you might have to gain, or what you might have to lose. The airwaves are full of ads. And tensions can run high. Social media is full of argument and contempt. And some conversations have grown even more difficult. If anyone disagrees they are evil, or they are stupid. It can’t be that we simply have different political commitments or loyalties. One thing I hear a lot is “we are more divided than ever before.” I don’t know if that’s the case, but that is certainly how it feels. Friendships across that political aisle can be strained, or nonexistent. 

It also seems to me that social media has made political engagement, of a sort, far easier than it was in my youth. Now political discussion can take place anonymously or through the safety of a screen. We do not need to wait for the evening news to know what has happened, we get an instant notification. The effect is that it can feel like politics smothers us. Because politics is always available for us to think about. And worse, we can feel helpless. We hear and see so much but realize there is so little we can do. We feel the burden of this world but lack the ability to change it. That can lead to frustration, anger, and despair. Maybe you’ve felt that frustration yourself.

Now I know some of us may be sick of politics, too. And I know that most of us probably don’t care to hear the preacher go off about politics, we are here to hear the word of God. And I certainly have no intention of preaching on politics if by that you mean making a partisan case. But the word of God does tell us a few things about politics. And as it happens the lectionary gives us two passages from Matthew, one this week and once next week, that touch on politics and its place in the Christian life. This morning Jesus answers a question about taxes. And the implications of his answer tell us a lot about the place of politics in our life.

Jesus is preaching in the Temple when some Pharisees and Herodians come to try and trap him. That’s an interesting alliance. Pharisees were like evangelical populists, they did not take too kindly to the establishment Herodians who had made their peace with Rome and with Herod. But they find a common enemy in Jesus, who threatens the power of both. Their words drip with insincerity as they say, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality.” They’re just buttering him up before the crowd before they ask their trick question.

That question is, “Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” Pharisees would have thought it is probably not lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, because Roman coinage was idolatrous, containing the image of the emperor who was called “son of a god.” Herodians, being the political establishment, would of course consider it to be lawful to pay taxes. So here is the trick, and here is why Jesus calls them hypocrites. If Jesus says it is lawful to pay taxes, then he might lose the crowds who take him to be a prophet. But if he says it is unlawful to pay taxes, guards are present to take him in right then and there for sedition. 

Jesus is in a bind, but his response astonishes everyone who hears.

First, Jesus says, “show me the coin for the tax.” Jesus, as it happens, does not have any money on him. But his opponents do, they bear the coins that bear the idolatrous image of caesar. "Whose head is this, and whose title?” Now the Pharisees and Herodians might sense Jesus has turned the tables on them. “The emperor’s.” They reply very simply.

"Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God’s." We are told the people are astonished at his answer, and his opponents are silenced.

But what does it mean to give to the emperor what is the emperor’s and give to God what is God’s? I think sometimes this account is taken to mean some proto-Seperation of Church and State. Where Jesus is advocating for a divided life, or divided loyalty. There are some things that belong to the Emperor, and in those cases we have our duties. But there are other things that belong to God, and we have our duties there. There is a private sphere, where we can pray and worship, and there is a public sphere where the Emperor may make his demands. The emperor, or the state and human politics, has authority over the economy and over the body. But Jesus has authority in our hearts and over our soul.

But that’s not quite what Jesus is getting at here, and that’s not why everyone is astonished at his teaching. To get at what Jesus is getting at we need to ask “what does belong to the Emperor? And what does belong to God?” 

Everything belongs to God. “The sea is his for he made it, and his hands have molded the dry land.” “The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows his handiwork.” God creates all things, and there is nothing in heaven and earth that he did not make. And so all belongs to God. The emperor himself belongs to God, as Paul notes he can only have authority as is given by God. Which is why Paul says we ought to pay taxes.

And what belongs to the Emperor? Why, that’s what makes this passage a little humorous. That coin. Because it has his face and name on it.

So we give to God what belongs to God and give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor. We give to God what belongs to God and we give the state what belongs to the state. We give to God what belongs to God, and we give to political life what belongs to political life. Knowing that Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, that all belongs to God.

So what does this all mean? And what does this have to do with the election? What does this have to do with politics and the Christian life? I think it offers a useful corrective. Should we vote? Of course. As citizens we have a duty to consider the candidates and vote our conscience. That is giving to the emperor what is the emperor’s so to speak. And we should engage in rigorous and frank discussion. 

But we must also remember that politics is not our ultimate loyalty. And I worry the way it can consume our days, the way that it can determine or undermine our friendships, the way it can become our identity when we say “I’m republican” or “I’m a democrat”, makes it seem like our ultimate loyalty. Politics is important. We are political creatures who have to make decisions about our life together, and are blessed to live in a democratic republic where those decisions can be made by free citizens. But we do not owe our life to politics.

All of us here and listening at home owe our life to God. And all of us here and listening at home have been bought with a price. All of us here and listening at home owe to God everything, our selves, our souls, and bodies. And all of us here should treat one another, no matter the outcome of the election, as one for whom Christ died. 

I’m reminded that John Wesley was once asked by Methodists in Bristol for advice for how to go about the local election. He said:

1. To vote, without fee or reward, for the person they judged most worthy

2. To speak no evil of the person they voted against, and

3. To take care their spirits were not sharpened against those that voted on the other side.”

That’s the advice of someone who knows the importance of politics, while at the same knowing that Jesus is Lord. That we should vigorously engage in the democratic process, while at the same time not letting our spirits be sharpened, knowing that we are all children of God. And we owe God our all.

Joy: The End

Joy: The End

History Has a Happy Ending

Philippians 4:1-9

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. October 11th, 2020

I can tell when I am into a book or a movie or a TV show because I can get really invested. There was a time I’d get nervous going to the movie theater because I knew with the big screen and the surround sound I would get absorbed into the movie. It was nerve wracking. I get a tunnel vision where I don’t see anything off the page, or I don’t see anything around the screen. Even if the movie is the most clichéd thing, I will start to wonder “how will the protagonist get out of this jam?” Cringe comedies can be hard for me to watch, because I really really cringe. 

So when a story hits its climax, whether I’m reading it or watching on TV, I have a strong urge to turn to the back of the book or to check spoilers to make sure things are all right. Or, I’ll tell myself I’m really enjoying this and I’d like to “learn more.” Which inevitably takes me accidentally on purpose to some spoiler page I try to convince myself may not be true. What’s going on is I’m so invested, the tension grows to be so strong, that I have to know and the pace of reading or the pace of watching is just too slow for me. I need to know how this ends now.

But when it comes to history, we do not need to ask “how will this end?” We have read the back of the book. All the birth and death, wars and rumors of wars, famines and earthquakes, and glory, and fame, and invention, and wealth, and heroism, and sacrifice it all leads to one inexorable conclusion. The resurrection of the dead. The lamb on his throne. Eternal life with Christ Jesus our Lord.

Every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

Every story shares a genre. Some stories are tragedies, some are dramas, some are comedies. And each genre has its tropes. A tragedy, of course, has a bad ending. Sometimes inexorable, sometimes unforeseen. A comedy has a good ending. In the end it all goes well for our heroes no matter how foolish or madcap they may be. It can be hard sometimes to figure out at first what genre a story belongs in. With a tragedy or a comedy you don’t necessarily know what you’re going to get until the end. The human story may seem tragic, and there are many people who thought it is a tragedy. There is much war, famine, disease, loss. There’s a great deal of suffering, injustice, and despair. But we know history is a comedy, because it has a good ending. It has God redeeming all things. It has every tear being wiped away from our eyes. It features life eternal.

We who know the gospel are those who know this world, despite its appearances, is ultimately a comedy. Our story. The human story ultimately has a good ending.

The Cross is that story in short. Jesus endures great injustice. He is falsely condemned. He is scourged. He is mocked. He is spit upon. He is ultimately crucified. And there is a period of darkness. In that darkness there is the greatest despair. But ultimately God acts to raise his Son from the dead. And in him there is life for all. Life forevermore. What once was a tragedy is overcome by divine grace. It is given a good ending. So the Friday on which Jesus is crucified is known as Good Friday.

That story was Paul’s. He knew his life to be a comedy. He knew that he was chosen by God as his own apostle. 

That story may be our own as well. That despite all the sufferings we may face, our fears, our doubts, we may know the life and grace of God. 

So Paul says, “rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice!” Paul commands us to rejoice while he is yet in his chains. But he knows he will not always be in chains. And he knows God has blessed his chains. Paul knows that on account of his chains the Gospel is being preached throughout Caesar’s guard. Nothing can stop the gospel. The Gospel is a spoiler about how it all ends.

We are to rejoice because, “The Lord is near.” Like we may be overjoyed when a friend or loved one is coming over, we rejoice because our Lord is near. He is ever near. Always at the door. And so we can rejoice. Rejoice knowing all of this will be redeemed. Rejoice knowing there is no one who is greater than our God. Rejoice knowing that God has adopted us as his own. Rejoice knowing that despite it all we know eternal life.

In this joy there is peace. That “peace that surpasses all understanding” as Paul tells us. The peace of knowing how it all ends. The peace that comes with knowing God reigns, so despite all that we might experience or think or worry over, there is nothing greater than God.

Perhaps this all sounds outlandish, this morning. But this peace may be yours. This joy that suffuses all things may be yours. It is the peace and joy that comes with knowing that the crucified is Lord. The peace and joy that comes with knowing that God reigns. The peace and joy that comes with having read the end of the book. Having history spoiled for you. God gives life to his children, and God is calling you home.

Joy: In God's Promise

Joy: In God’s Promise

Keep Your Eyes on the Prize

Philippians 3:4b-14

Rev. Tim Callow

Preached Sun. October 4th, 2020

Jesus tells a parable about a man who finds a treasure hidden in a field. Full of joy, the man who finds the treasure sells everything he has to purchase the field. Having sold everything, he gains so much more. Jesus says the Kingdom of God is like the treasure in the field. If we give up everything to purchase that field, we will have received so much more. Paul speaks as a man who sold everything he has that he might purchase that treasure hidden in the field.

If anyone has reason to be confident in the flesh, Paul says, he has more. If anyone has any advantages, or if anyone has any possessions, or if anyone has any accomplishments that they can rest their laurels on, Paul is confident he has more. Paul was circumcised on the eighth day, according to the Law of Moses. That made Paul a member of the covenant community of Israel. He could even name the tribe to which he belonged: the tribe of Benjamin. He was a Hebrew, born of Hebrews. 

When it came to how he read and understood the Law, he was a Pharisee. Now Pharisees may not have the best reputation today, but in Paul’s day they had a terrific reputation. Pharisees were masters of the minute details of the Law. They were highly learned men. They were also thought to be very holy men, putting their knowledge into practice. Paul, we are told, studied at the feet of Gamaliel, which would be rather like saying he went to Harvard. He studied under one of the most renowned Pharisees of his day. 

On top of his high birth, and his great education, Paul was also zealous for the Law. His zeal was so great he persecuted the Church. Yet, under the Law he was regarded as blameless. Paul obeyed all 613 commands of the Law. He knew that he had no fault. 

We should be amazed at Paul’s status and righteousness. He was well born, well educated, had the right attitude, and was wholly righteous under the Law. What immense possessions he had in hand! But Paul isn’t saying all this in order to boast. In fact, quite the opposite. He doesn’t see any reason to boast in his birth, his education, or his status. He imagines that there is a ledger, and if those are his assets they are only loss in comparison to the profit that comes from Christ. In fact, he goes on to say that he considers these things “rubbish.” Or, a better way to render that greek word, he considers them “sewer trash.” They are worthless, even disgusting in his eyes. Why? “Because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”

So often it is easy to focus on the things we don’t have. In times of illness we may focus on not having good health. When we are in financial straights we may focus on not being wealthy. When our calendar is booked, we may focus on not having free time. When we are alone, we may focus on those with friends. Or when we feel insignificant we may focus on those who are famous. But Paul is saying he had it all. At least he had all that seemed to have mattered to a Jew of his day. But he sold it. He gave it away. He considers it as nothing. Because knowing Jesus and his promise is worth so much more than anything this world can provide. What Jesus offers us is worth so much more than anything we can now possess.

Paul gives up what he has, that he would receive what Christ offers. “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.” Paul aspires to the life Jesus shares. There may be suffering now, but Christ has already overcome suffering. He has won the victory, and the joy of that victory is stronger than our suffering.

Paul is full of joy because he can keep his eye on the prize. “I press on toward the goal,” Paul says, “for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” Paul may have possessed status that others can’t possess. He may have known wisdom that is not for others to know. He may have been part of a covenant that not everyone is born into. But the life that Christ offers is freely offered to all. The resurrection life of Christ that is stronger than death. And what can be more precious? More hopeful? More glorious?

Weigh the two together. What do we possess that is as precious or as valuable as eternal life? Weigh the scales and see. Paul’s joy comes from knowing that what he has now is worth paying down for what is to come. His joy is the joy of the man who saw a treasure hidden in a field. And when he saw that treasure he ran to purchase the field that the treasure might be his. 

That treasure may be yours as well. It is a free gift offered. For those who surrender all to Christ it is a promise made. And when we put our eyes on the prize, when we keep our mind on our hope, there is joy that surpasses every pain. The joy surpasses every pain because we know even the pleasures of this world are dross. Nothing can hold a candle to what God provides.