Some of us can learn mercy by reading about it in the Bible. Many more of us, however, learn mercy by taking the plunge and doing it.

Such was the case with Sister Helen Prejean. Her story is told in the book Dead Man Walking, which recently came out in film. Sister Helen hears one day of a correspondence program with prisoners on death row. She decides to participate and begins writing, even though she's been told not to expect to hear anything in return. Much to her surprise, though, one of the prisoners does respond and catches her completely off guard by asking her to be his spiritual guide. Apparently his execution date was fast approaching, and he wanted some representative of God to be there for support over the next several weeks.

Sister Helen hesitates. It is one thing to do charity long distance. It is quite another thing to do mercy face to face with a convicted murderer. Gary had been sentenced to death by lethal injection for participating in the brutal rape of a young woman and the subsequent murder of both her and her finance. Sister Helen recoils at the very thought of meeting this rapist and murderer, let alone ministering to him. But a voice deep inside of her tells her she must go. So she does. The first several meetings are difficult. Gary comes across a whole lot more cocky and arrogant in person than he did in his letters. He refuses to admit his guilt and insists that he is the innocent victim of a corrupt legal system.

To make matters worse, Sister Helen is despised and publicly villified by the victims' parents for even spending time with Gary. How could she, a deeply religious nun, befriend this cold-blooded murderer! They are horrified and let her know that every time they see her. And yet, despite these difficult barriers, Sister Helen risks her name, her reputation, her own safety, to reach across them and embrace Gary with the love of God. And the more she perseveres in loving him, the more his defenses begin to crumble. Finally on the night before his execution, Gary confesses to his crime and asks for God's forgiveness. In a flood of tears, he thanks Sister Helen for all her love and support. He then tries to send her home, insisting that her work with him is done and that he is now ready to meet his Maker.

"No, that's okay," she responds. "I'll stay through the execution."

"But why?" Gary wants to know. "I'm only getting what I deserve."

"Because," she replies, "the last face I want you to see before you die is not one of hatred and vengeance, but one of love and mercy."

The next morning, Gary is strapped into place while Sister Helen and the victims' parents watch through the window of an adjacent room. Within a matter of minutes, the last lethal dose is injected and Gary is pronounced dead. Most of the by-standers breathe a sigh of relief. Some even begin to applaud. But Sister Helen alone stands there - with arms reaching out to Gary and a look of pure mercy on her face.

Some of us learn mercy by reading about it in our Bibles. But most of us, like Sister Helen Prejean, learn mercy by just doing it to those who least deserve it - to those who are unclean, who are despised and rejected by society. Learning Mercy . . .

There was just no way Joshua could logically explain his battle plan to take Jericho. God told Joshua exactly what he wanted him to do. Can you picture Joshua trying to relate the plan to his generals?

"Well, we’re going to march around the city."

"Then what?"

"We’re going to do it seven times."

"Uh huh, then?"

"We’re going to blow the trumpets and make a lot of noise."

"Really?"

"Then the walls are going to fall down."

They probably thought Joshua had battle fatigue. But as the trumpets blasted on the seventh trip around, the walls began to crumble. God wouldn’t let Joshua down when he trusted in him.

Solomon, one of the wisest of the wise, said that the mark of wisdom is to put your trust in the Lord. However bright we might be, whatever our many gifts and talents, they do not compare with those of Almighty God. To put our trust in the Lord and have him guide our lives is the smart thing to do. To others such an act of confidence in the Lord might seem as foolish as Joshua’s battle plans.

The Christian life is not difficult; it’s impossible. Jesus said, "Without me you can do nothing." When life came crashing in upon Martin Luther, he would shout, "Christ is risen! He lives! He lives!" In this way Luther reminded himself that the same power of God which raised Jesus from the dead was now his. With God’s help he could meet and overcome his problems ... however large they were.

If God is powerful enough to create the universe and raise a dead man, he is able to help us handle whatever difficulties life throws our way. Do the smart thing - trust in the Lord.

The Hebrew people knew that Moses was on Mount Sinai, but it seemed to them that he had been gone much longer than necessary. All manner of mummerings arose within the ranks. Had he deserted them? Had something happened to him? Finally, it was decided that they would raise up Aaron as their new leader. Moreover, an idol fashioned in the form of a golden bull was set in their midst as the new object of worship. Unexpectedly, Moses returned. The scene which followed included at least three emphases:

1. Pronouncement. God utters a blistering assessment of the Hebrew people: "I have seen this people, and behold, it is a stiff-necked people" (32:9). Then follows an expression of his intention; "Now therefore let me alone, that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them" (32:10). As the Revelator was to put it centuries later, Israel had "forgotten its first love." Even as Moses was on the mountain top receiving the Ten Commandments, the people were fawning around the golden idol which had been fashioned from their own jewelry. It had been remarked that the people were just out of slavery ... they were tired of waiting on Moses to return to them ... they wanted to celebrate somehow and thank somebody. Not yet understanding the character of Moses’ God, they manufactured their own god to enable them to focus their celebration upon something. I believe the observation is correct inasmuch as we see latter-day versions of similar behavior, i.e., persons who want to celebrate life but are unable to understand the God of Christianity take unto themselves golden calves in some form or another. There are different causes of a stiff neck. Some are caused by sleeping in a draft, some are congenital, others due to injury or disease, and still others by arrogance and stubbornness. It is the latter malady to which God is referring in 32:9, the neck so stiff that it cannot bow to God. At the time of God’s pronouncement to Moses, the Hebrew people were in fact, in the words of Jonathan Edwards, "sinners in the hands of an angry God."

2. Intercession. Moses did not attempt to excuse his people, but instead undertook to intercede for them. He went to God in their behalf. I remember the story of the frail little country boy whose parents were so poor that they could not feed their family properly. The little boy , always undernourished, was sluggish and scarcely felt up to completing his assignments at school. One day the teacher announced the assignment and warned that anyone not completing it would be punished. Sure enough, the pale little youth failed to turn his work in when it was due. The teacher called him forward to the desk and told him to bend over. His hollow eyes looked helplessly at her as his bony body braced itself for a whipping. As he bent over, the bones in his back made little ridges in his shirt and his baggy pants were evidence of skinny legs and a tiny waist. The teacher raised the paddle. Suddenly, a little boy raised his hand and said, "Teacher, can I take his whipping for him?" That is a secular case of intercession. A theological case is "and while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us," and as the letter to the Hebrews suggests, Christ is "eternally interceding in our behalf."

3. Mercy. Certainly God was angry with the Hebrew people, just as he is vexed and saddened by those of us who become so stiff-necked that we cannot bow in an attitude of gratefulness for his leadership in our lives and the grace which always goes before us. It is often remarked, "When I stand before God in the judgment, I won’t ask for justice, I will ask for mercy." To be sure, none of us could survive the justice, but because of God’s promise to Moses, and the intercession of Christ, we do believe that there is hope for the sinner because a part of God’s character is mercy.

Several years ago while conducting a Senior Youth Retreat, I led the group in an activity called a "Trust Walk." Participants paired up and each took a turn leading the other blindfolded throughout the retreat facility. I also had a partner and took my turn. For approximately twenty minutes I was led by the hand around tables and chairs, up and down steps, throughout the building. Something remarkable happened to me when I trusted my life, so to speak, into the hands of my young partner. In those short twenty minutes, a beautiful feeling developed toward that person, a closeness, a need for her. Even when the blindfold came off, I felt that I wanted to get better acquainted. I continued to feel positive feelings for my partner.

Throughout the Book of Psalms God encourages us to take a trust walk with him. Jesus says to all of us, "Trust in me. I love you so much. I want to help you. Wherever you are hurting, let me bring healing. Some of you are not sure and continue to believe that you must handle your own problems! In some cases you may have some success, but there is a better way. Doing it your way is not the better way. And don’t be afraid of leaning. Lean on me," Jesus says. "There is no concern too insignificant for my attention. And when you pray, remember that my Father is there listening. Pray boldly, yes, asking the Father to meet your needs. Also pray trusting that his wisdom surpasses yours. He’s not going to lead you into any walls or crashing down any steps."

When Sir Walter Raleigh, the famed explorer, was on the scaffold awaiting imminent death, he is said to have had a short talk with the axeman. The executioner told his prisoner that the block would be more comfortable if he turned his head the other way. "My friend," said Sir Walter Raleigh, "it matters little how the head lies so long as the heart is right." To accept the Lord Jesus as our personal Savior and to trust in him puts the heart right once and for all, for time and eternity. Problems, even imminent death, are handled more gracefully when we walk through life trusting in the Lord.

If you are not currently on a trust walk with the Lord, let me suggest that you begin one right now. Your partner is ready and waiting - his hand is reaching out for yours. There’s but one simple thing to do ... take it.

The following incident is vouched for by a Church of England clergyman who knew all the circumstances:

A young woman, who had been brought up in a Christian home and who had often had very serious convictions in regard to the importance of coming to Christ, chose instead to take the way of the world. Much against the wishes of her godly mother, she insisted on keeping company with a wild, hilarious crowd, who lived only for the passing moment and tried to forget the things of eternity. Again and again she was pleaded with to turn to Christ, but she persistently refused to heed the admonitions addressed to her.

Finally, she was taken with a very serious illness. All that medical science could do for her was done in order to bring about her recovery, but it soon became evident that the case was hopeless and death was staring her in the face. Still she was hard and obdurate when urged to turn to God in repentance and take the lost sinner's place and trust the lost sinner's Saviour.

One night she awoke suddenly out of a sound sleep, a frightened look in her eyes, and asked excitedly, "Mother, what is Ezekiel 7:8,9?"

Her mother said, "What do you mean, my dear?"

She replied that she had had a most vivid dream. She thought there was a Presence in the room, who very solemnly said to her, "Read Ezekiel 7:8,9." Not recalling the verses in question, the mother reached for a Bible. As she opened it, her heart sank as she saw the words, but she read them aloud to the dying girl:

"Now I will shortly pour out my fury upon thee, and accomplish mine anger upon thee: and I will judge thee according to thy ways, and will recompense thee for all thine abominations. And mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity: I will recompense thee according to thy ways and thine abominations that are in the midst of thee; and ye shall know that I am the Lord that smiteth."

The poor sufferer, with a look of horror on her face, sank back on the pillow, utterly exhausted, and in a few moments she was in eternity. Once more it had been demonstrated that grace rejected brings judgment at last.

In a large attractive office in a major city, a man worked for several months next to a small attractive woman. He had been there only a few days when he thought he'd ask her to lunch, which he did. The following day he asked her for dinner and they began a long dating relationship. They went to craft fairs together, since he liked to do that. They went to the ocean, which he also liked to do. They used to take long walks along the river.

He liked this relationship. He had lived for many years with his mother. In fact, it was only a few months after she died that he began dating his co-worker. Little by little, however, she began to dislike both the relationship and this man. She felt like she really wasn't herself when she was with him. She couldn't speak what she really felt. She rarely asserted where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do. She later said, "I just wasn't Sandra with him."

So she terminated her social, dating relationship with this man. Once she did, she began to feel like herself again. Her friends told her, "You're more like the old Sandra now."

Across the same town, in another office, a young man sat at his desk for eight years, struggling to manage his office work force. Outside he was a friendly, generous person. In the office he was the same way and his workers flattened him out, like steamrollers over an asphalt road. He worked long, long hours; he holed himself up behind his desk to keep all the records accurate; he just about wore himself out. Finally his friends told him, "Steve, you'd better get out of that job. You're not yourself anymore. Those people are eating you alive and you're not getting anywhere."

He protested, "But it's a good job. I make good money. And besides, it is what I do best. How can I even look for anything else?"

Then the company was sold. New management came in. All the supervisors were replaced and Steve found himself on the street. He was terrified. "To dig I am unable, to beg I am ashamed," he said. "What can I do?"

His friends told him they were glad he was fired. "At least you are your old self," they said. "And you'll find something. Just go for it." He did, and now he's doing better than he ever could have in the position he once felt he could never leave.

The steward in today's gospel lesson is like both Sandra and Steve. Sandra was not herself in that relationship. Steve was not himself in that job. Both were wasting away, losing that which was most precious to them both: their proper identities. Both felt they could not survive if they gave up something so close and precious as a relationship or a job.

In today's gospel lesson the steward's master calls him on the carpet. In Luke's mind, this Lord and Master is God. God always calls his stewards into question when they are wasteful of who and what they are. This steward is not just wasting his master's goods. The steward is wasting himself. Nothing is more precious in God's household than his steward's proper identity. This is God's gift to this steward, and he is wasting it. No wonder God calls him to account.

God does this to us all the time. He checks our relationships and he checks our jobs -- to help us make sure we are not wasting our identities where we are. This steward was. So God dismissed him. He had to get a new job and a new relationship. God does not tolerate our wasting who we are.

This dismissal turned the light on for the steward. "What shall I do? To dig I am unable, to beg I am ashamed." Finally he came to an assessment of who he was and what he could do. He came to value his own identity, one of his master's most precious goods.

He called in his master's creditors. "How much do you owe? One hundred barrels of oil? Take your bill and write 50." Did he cheat his master? Not at all. The commercial documents from that time indicate that 50 percent was the normal commission. He renounced what he thought he had to have to live on -- and he won friends for himself in so doing.

"How much do you owe? One hundred bushels of wheat? Take your bill and write 80." He did not cheat his master. He simply renounced his own commission. He gave up what he thought he needed to survive, and he survived much better without it. He zeroed in on his own identity, rather than on the commission he thought he had to have to survive.

Bruno Bettelheim, who has studied the survivors of the concentration camps in World War II, writes that those who survived were able to give up everything they thought they needed and, in so giving, they survived. Those who thought they would die if they had no clothing, no jewelry, no regular food, no books -- they did not make it.

Sometimes God will do to us what he did to this steward. He will strip us down to the very core of our existence to make us discover who we really are. He will bring us to a crossroad in life where we will be forced to say, "To dig I am not able, to beg I am ashamed." There God will reveal to us who we are. As we reach to him for help we will find ourselves renouncing our commissions -- whatever we think we need to survive but we really don't. God knows that.

Luther found himself in this position many times in his life. Once, as he began his study of law, he was struck down in a thunderstorm. Terrified, he cried out, "Dear Saint Ann, help me. I will become a monk." He quit his study of law and became a theologian instead -- the identity God wanted for him in the first place. He was wasting himself in law.

Later on, as a monk, he studied Paul's Epistle to the Romans. At that time in his life he felt he could not be Martin Luther unless he ended each day with a tray full of good works to present to God. In praying over Paul, he learned the difference between works righteousness and faith. He learned he was wasting God's gift of Martin Luther's identity in that daily tray full of good works.

He wrote: "Night and day I pondered until I saw the connection between the justice of God and the statement that the just shall live by faith. Then I grasped that the justice of God is that righteousness by which through mercy and sheer grace God justified us through faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise." Martin Luther the Do-Gooder was reborn Martin Luther the Believer.

Today's gospel lesson introduces that curious term, "mammon," an Aramaic word which means: "that in which I put my trust." We are like Sandra, Steve, and this steward. How easy to put all our trust in relationships or commissions or a job. God will not let us do that forever. He will force us to give up those people and those things we feel are absolutely critical. In God's eyes they are roadblocks to the truth. He will take them away. Then we will discover our real identities as God's stewards, and him alone shall we serve. "

In Dr. R. Alan Culpepper's commentary on Luke, he ends the first two parables in Luke 15 with the following observation:

In both parables, rejoicing calls for celebration, and the note of celebration may be exaggerated to emphasize the point. Neither sheep nor coins can repent, but the parable aims not at calling the "sinners" to repentance but at calling the "righteous" to join the celebration. Whether one will join the celebration is all-important because it reveals whether one's relationships are based on merit or mercy. Those who find God's mercy offensive cannot celebrate with the angels when a sinner repents. Thus they exclude themselves from God's grace.

I think that this is a very important question for churches today. More than one congregational member has not rejoiced over the influx of new members in the congregation. The non-rejoicing criticism seems especially prevalent when the "found" are somehow different from the mainstream members.

A man from El Paso lived a good four miles from the main parade ground at Fort Bliss. On most mornings you could hear the whump, whump, whump of the thirteen-gun salute which was sounded every morning at seven o'clock. But on some mornings you could hear the sound of the drum corps as they rolled their cadences.

However, if the morning was clear and still, as in the winter time when the air was crisp and cold, you could also hear the sound of the music of the army band, the blast of the trumpets, the wail of the clarinets, and the mellow tone of the horns.

On the mornings where only the cannon could be heard, the man knew the drum and the horns were still there, whether they were heard or not.

Our fathers, in their theology, heard the cannon and the drum, the stirring of the wrath of God. Modern ears have heard the soft music of the flute and the horn, but have not listened for the cannon and the drum.

Leslie Weatherhead in his book, A Private House Of Prayer, suggests that the structure of the content of prayer be likened to a house of seven rooms. Each room is a division of prayer. There may be some duplication with ACTSS which we just discussed.

The first room is for the affirmation of God's presence. If prayer is a conversation with God, obviously it is necessary for him to be present. When we pray, are we aware of his presence or like Moses do we see only a burning bush? In a hymn Tersteegen sings, "God himself is present; let us now adore him and with awe appear before him." What applies to worship, applies also to prayer. When we pray, we are talking to a real person, not to an idea, or ideal, or ideology, or a theological concept. In prayer we are not talking to ourselves or to the ceiling. In spirit God is there to hear our prayer. We need to realize this and pray accordingly.

The next room is for the thanksgiving and praise. We have been blessed beyond measure and therefore to thank and praise God is in order. Before we begin our prayer, we need to review how good God has been to us. If we are bereft of blessings, our greatest gift is Jesus who loved us enough to die for us.

Go to the next room for the confession of sins. Sin separates us from God. Sin erects an impenetrable curtain which prevents us from seeing God. The separation prevents our hearing the voice of God. We come out of a dirty world with the dirt of sin clinging to us. Before we can be presentable to a holy God we need spiritual cleansing. Thus, in prayer we confess our sins and plead for his mercy.

The fourth room is labelled "Reception of God's grace." We have confessed our sins and begged for mercy. What is God's response? It is grace in terms of pardon and acceptance. At this time in our prayers we remember his promises to be with us always, to forgive us, and to bless us with the Holy Spirit.

Now it is time to go to the room of petition. We have the opportunity to tell God about our personal needs in our own lives, or in our family, or in our work. But, we have petitions not only for ourselves, but others want and need our prayers in their behalf. This takes us to the sixth room of prayer. When we pray for others, it is called intercessory prayer. When his co-worker, Melanchthon, was sick, Luther prayed for him: "I besought the Almighty with great vigor ... quoting from Scripture all the promises I could remember, that prayers should be granted and said that he must grant my prayer, if I was henceforth to put faith in his promises."

The effectiveness of a friend's prayer on our behalf depends on the relationship of the pray-er to God. James wrote, "The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective" (James 5:16). That is why we want a godly mother or a pious pastor to pray for us. Roman Catholics ask the saints and the Virgin Mary to pray for them. On the eve of a historic boxing match, a friend was visiting the champ in his hotel suite. During the conversation a murmuring feminine voice was heard. "That's my wife," the champ explained. "She's praying for me to win." "Oh, and I suppose you pray, too?" The champ replied, "My wife is more devout than I am. If God won't do it for her, He certainly won't do it for me."

The seventh room in the house of prayer is meditation. Some do not understand what meditation is and consequently do not know how to meditate. It is the act of reflecting, of silence, and listening to God. It calls for thinking about God and our relationship to him. It is a time to review past dealings with God. Then we reflect on how good God has been in those past dealings. After that, we remember God's promises to us: promises of peace, protection, and provision. Meditation can be summed up in three R's: review, reflect, and remember.

After the tomb was found empty and Jesus appeared to the early church on many occasions, doubt disappeared, and the early church had overwhelming confidence in the Lord. The church today must live and be about its ministry with the same Easter confidence. We say we rely on God’s mercy for our salvation; we need to give over all areas of our lives to God’s control. What aspects of ourselves are outside God’s control? Our temper? Our money? Our time? We need join the psalmist and say, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." Our trust in the Lord must be complete. We are no longer defeated people but powerful Easter people. Little children in danger or in despair literally run and throw themselves into the arms of their mother. This is confident faith. When was the last time we ran and thrust ourselves onto the Lord? A cautious step in his direction is better than none at all, but believing with abandonment is called forth by an empty tomb. God wants us to fall head over heels in love with him so he can bring the greatest joy and purpose possible into our lives.

God also encourages us to hold fast to hope without wavering. Scripture says, "Where there is no hope, the people perish." Too many of us view too much of our lives and the world as hopeless. Without hope, no great strides will be made in the future; there is no venturesome faith without hope. Without hope we burrow into the ground and live the life of a mole instead of walking freely in God’s sunlight. In a difficult situation, a hopeful people find the challenge and opportunity to do something great with God.

Confident in our faith, with an unwavering hope, the Lord also encourages us to stir up one another to love and good works. We must do something. Faith and hope must move from the abstract to the particular.

Easter people are called upon to celebrate the Festival of the Resurrection each Sunday, for each Sunday is a little Easter. "... Not neglecting to meet together," is how it is written in Hebrews. To break fellowship with the worshiping community is to pursue a weakening faith. It is also a form of denial of all that Christ means. True faith, strong faith, is never faith in isolation but must always be faith shared and strengthened through regular worship. We must encourage one another to be regular in worship and strong in the faith.

The end is drawing near. The Lord will return soon to reclaim his fallen creation. When the Lord of the church comes again, how will he find us? Will we be acting like people who have been touched by the meaning of the cross and the empty tomb? Therefore, let us continue to draw near to the Lord with a true heart and a confident faith. We hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering. We consider how to stir up one another to love and good works. We do not neglect to worship but encourage one another. In sum, we will all be Easter people.

God moves in mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
And big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.

Born almost a decade ago in Yugoslavia, she responded to God's call on her life while still a teenager. A missionary's strong challenge to give her life to teaching in India resulted in her appointment to the city of Calcutta. Some months later she saw a sight which completely revolutionized her life, and would ultimately bring her worldwide fame as Good Housekeeping magazine's "Most-Admired-Woman" selection. What was the sight? A homeless, dying woman lying in the gutter, being eaten by rats. Compassion compelled her to beg an abandoned Hindu temple from the government, and convert it into a crude make-shift hospital for the dying. A comment of hers became her life's thrust: "If there is a God in heaven, and a Christ we love, nobody should die alone." This woman who established colonies for over 10,000 lepers in 28 cities was interviewed by Malcolm Muggeridge from the BBC News. "Mother Teresa, the thing I noticed about you and the hundreds of sisters who now form your team is that you all look so happy. Is that a put-on?" She replied, "Oh no, not at all. Nothing makes you happier than when you really reach out in mercy to someone who is badly hurt.”

Service is its own reward. True mercy begets genuine joy.

"Those who choose evil shall have their choice. Men who hate divine mercy shall not have it forced upon them, but (unless sovereign grace interpose) shall be left to themselves to aggravate their guilt and ensure their doom.

"They have loved darkness rather than light, and in darkness they shall abide. Eyes which see no beauty in the Lord Jesus, but flash wrath upon Him, may well grow yet more dim, till death which is spiritual leads to death which is eternal.

"What can be too severe a penalty for those who reject the incarnate God, and refuse to obey the commands of His mercy? They deserve to be flooded with wrath, and they shall be; for upon all who rebel against the Savior, 'wrath has come upon them to the uttermost' (I Thessalonians 2:16).

"God's indignation is no trifle. The anger of a holy, just, omnipotent, and infinite Being, is above all things to be dreaded; even a drop of it consumes, but to have it poured upon us is inconceivably dreadful."

He, Jesus, is the friend on whom we can rely in all things. Ralph Earle, the great biblical scholar who taught at Kansas City's Nazarene Theological Seminary and helped edit The New International Version of the Bible, often told the story of John G. Paton who was a pioneer missionary to the New Hebrides. Dr. Paton soon discovered that while the natives had words for house, tree, stone, and the like, they had no words for love, joy, and peace. Worst of all, they had no word for believe. One day as he sat in his hut filled with frustration, an old native entered and slumped down in a chair. Exhausted from a long journey, the man said, "I'm leaning my whole weight on this chair." "What did you say?" asked Dr. Paton. The man repeated, "I'm leaning my whole weight on this chair." Immediately, Dr. Paton cried, "That's it!" And from that day forward for that primitive tribe, "Believe in Jesus" became "Lean your whole weight on Jesus."

No one else can bear the weight of our trust. As the Psalmist simply prescribed, "It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes" (Psalm 118:8-9 NIV).

The classic quote on mercy is that of Portia in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene I, lines 186-197.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than its crown;
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself,·
And earthly power doth then show likest
God's When mercy seasons justice.

I believe it was the Mills Brothers who made popular the song, "You Always Hurt the One You Love." Fighting is one of the realities of married life. Unfortunately, most of us do not handle it well. Fighting is a negative way of communicating some very strong feelings. If we accept the premise that the point of all communication is to get closer to each other, then we might seek more constructive and positive ways of communicating our strong feelings rather than destructive fighting. Although space doesn’t permit us to consider all the suggestions for what I call "good fighting," let me mention just a few. Discover what you are really fighting about. What’s really underneath it all, then stick to the subject, don’t bring up past history. No name calling. Remember you are fighting with the one you love - hurt her and you are hurting yourself and your marriage.

Back to the Mills Brothers ... if we are able to hurt the one we love more than anyone else, then we, as a spouse, have the greatest ability to bring healing to our relationship. If we really want to heal the other person, we can. Healing not only after fights but throughout life. Healing comes through a gentle touch or by saying "I’m sorry" and really meaning it. Healing also comes through forgiving one another and accepting each other’s limitations.

Jesus Christ is the greatest facilitator of healing in marriage. He gives us the power to forgive our spouse - not because he/she deserves it but because he/she needs it. We forgive not only for his sake but for our sake and for our marriage’s sake. For marriage is something that we are in together, and when one or the other is hurting, both of us are hurting, and our marriage is hurting.

Those who are wise, work hard at their marriages. Those who are wiser work hard too, but they also invite God’s help in loving each other. If God wants your marriage to work, and he certainly does, then he is anxious to give you whatever you need to make it work. Both of you must keep strong in the Lord. There is a little Christian saying that goes, "When I try, I fail. When I trust, He succeeds." The best thing we can do in our marriage is not try so hard but to trust even harder.

As people, there will be those moments when we cannot help but express negative feelings to our spouse. Be careful not to try to hurt the person, but rather attempt to express how his/her actions are hurting you. Tell it like it is. Don’t hold back. But let the Lord help you share your strong communication in a loving manner. When you have a fight, have a good one.

The love of God is indescribable but a old Jewish legend does a pretty good job. It describes what happened when God created man. The legend says God took into counsel the Angels that stood about his throne. The Angel of Justice said; 'Create him not … for if you do he will commit all kinds of wickedness against his fellow man; he will be hard and cruel and dishonest and unrighteous.'  The Angel of Truth said, 'Create him not … for he will be false and deceitful to his brother and even to Thee.'  The Angel of Holiness stood and said; 'Create him not … he will follow that which is impure in your sight, and dishonor you to your face.'

Then stepped forward the Angel of Mercy, God's most beloved, angel, and said; 'Create him, our Heavenly Father, for when he sins and turns from the path of right and truth and holiness I will take him tenderly by the hand, and speak loving words to him, and then lead him back to you.'

Many believers don’t see the importance of regular church attendance. Members of Northend Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Seattle received a special announcement in the mail, listing the many things that would be done for them at church on the following “no-excuse-to-stay-home Sunday.”

According to the pastor, cots would be available for those who say Sunday is their only day to sleep. Eye drops would be supplied for those who have red eyes from watching late Saturday-night TV shows. There would be steel helmets for those who say the roof would cave in if they ever went to church, blankets for persons who think the church is too cold, fans for those who say it is too hot, scorecards for those wishing to list all the hypocrites present, TV dinners for those who can’t go to church and also cook dinner. Finally, the sanctuary would be decorated with Christmas poinsettias and Easter lilies for those who have never seen the church without them. 

Abraham and Lot decided to part ways, with Lot to have choice of the direction he would go. A Sunday school teacher, reading this story from the Bible, came to the place where it says, "... and Lot lifted up his eyes ..." At this point, a small boy quickly interrupted: "He didn't lift them up high enough. Did he?"

The boy was right about that. Lot lifted up his eyes high enough to see the well-watered plain which promised easy living, but not high enough to see God's better way for his life. So, as it is written, "he pitched his tent toward Sodom." This decision was his undoing and his ruin: the Sodomites got to him.

You and I are called to lift up our eyes - also. And we should be sure that we lift them higher than some rich and fertile plain, that we lift them up all the way - all the way to God and to his better will for our lives. The Old Testament psalmist had the right idea when he wrote: "Unto thee do I lift up my eyes, O thou who dwells in the heavens."

If there is ever a time, among all times, when we should really lift up our eyes all the way, it is the time of Christian worship. To this time we now come. In faith and loving trust, let us lift up our eyes all the way to our Lord.

I do not come because my soul
is free from sin and pure and whole
and worthy of Thy grace;
I do not speak to Thee because
I've ever justly kept Thy laws
and dare to meet Thy face.

I know that sin and guilt combine
to reign o'er every thought of mine
and turn from good to ill;
I know that when I try to be
upright and just and true to Thee,
I am a sinner still.

I know that often when I strive
to keep a spark of love alive
for Thee, the powers within
Leap up in unsubmissive might
and oft benumb my sense of right
and pull me back to sin.

I know that though in doing good
I spend my life, I never could
atone for all I've done;
But though my sins are black as night,
I dare to come before Thy sight
because I trust Thy Son.

In Him alone my trust I place,
come boldly to Thy throne of grace,
and there commune with Thee.
Salvation sure, O Lord, is mine,
and, all unworthy, I am Thine,
for Jesus died for me.

My introduction to California was complete when I spent almost an entire weekend on the freeways.  I know now what T. S. Eliot was talking about in one of his choruses from The Rock:

And now you live dispersed on ribbon roads,
And no man knows or cares who is his neighbor
Unless his neighbor makes too much disturbance,
But all dash to and fro in motor cars,
Familiar with the roads and settled nowhere.

Bumper to bumper, headlights glaring, nerves frayed, energy wasted, tempers flaring -- there we were, all weekend -- “dispersed on ribbon roads.”

It came to me that perhaps this is the best symbol for modern persons: ribbon roads. We spend most of our time in our cars.  We know the roads, but we aren’t settled anywhere.

Even those who have lived for years in one place may experience the same rootlessness -- constantly on the move, but not certain of direction.

The ancient psalmist provides good news:  “Commit your way to the Lord, trust in Him, and He will direct your path.”

There was a king who held court every day. He would sit on his throne wearing his robe and crown as the people of his country would come to him stating their needs and requests. Each day, in addition to all the people who would come to the throne, there was also a holy man dressed in a beggar's robe who would come to the king. The holy man would hand the king a piece of fruit which the king would receive and then hand over to one of his assistants. Then the holy man would leave without ever saying a word to the king. This went on for many months and even years. Then one day something happened that no one expected. No one knew that a monkey had gotten loose in the palace. When the holy man presented his gift of fruit to the king, the monkey jumped up on the stage and grabbed the fruit out of the hand of the king. Then the monkey took a bite out of the fruit and all were amazed at what they saw, because precious jewels fell out of the fruit. The king quickly turned and asked his assistant what he had been doing with the fruit. The assistant said that they had been throwing the fruit through the window of a locked room. When they opened the door of that room they found among the rotten and decaying fruit a fortune in jewels.

We fail to take the grace of God seriously. Perhaps because it is a free gift that comes to us in the form of a cross. It does not seem very valuable. Let us pray that God will give us a new understanding of his grace and mercy in Jesus Christ.

Adapted from William A. Miller, Make Friends with Your Shadow (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House), p. 128. Used by permission. 

Pride is the first of the seven deadly sins. One falls into pride when one lacks trust in God and his mercy and becomes arrogant, hypocritical, and self-centered. Reinhold Neibuhr, who has been referred to as the twentieth-century theologian of sin, summed up humanity's basic sin -- our unwillingness to acknowledge our creatureliness, our self-elevation, in one word: PRIDE.

Neibuhr described the four types of pride:

1. The pride of power wants power to gain security for self or to maintain a power position considered to be secure.
2. Intellectual pride rises from human knowledge that pretends to be ultimate knowledge. It presumes to be final truth.
3. Moral pride claims that its standards for virtue test and measure all righteousness. Neibuhr observed that most evil is done by "good" people who do not know that they are not good.
4. Spiritual pride is self-glorification. It claims that "self's righteousness" conforms to God's righteousness.

Life magazine set out to record what various kids thought about God. They handed out cameras to 56 kids between the ages of 8 and 13, and they asked each kid to go out and take pictures that reflect who God is. Anything that made them think of God was fair game for a photo. One nine-year-old took a picture of his social worker's office. She was nice to him, and that made him think of God. Other children took pictures of people they love, or things that make them happy. But some of the children's pictures reflected the kids' disillusionment with a God who didn't seem to hear their prayers or feel their pain. One nine-year-old, identified as Chris G., used up all his film taking pictures of the sky. When an interviewer asked him why he chose this as his subject, Chris answered that the sky is where Heaven is, and his little sister, Tina, was in Heaven. As he explained, "There was a fire. My mom got out, but she (Tina) didn't. She died at a bad age." The interviewer asked, "If God is as powerful as you say, Chris, how could God let that happen?" "He was probably working," the child replied. "Maybe God didn't know there was a fire?" the interviewer suggested. But Chris replied, "God knows everything. He knew, but He was working."

To tell you the truth, I wouldn't know how to answer Chris' concerns. Anymore than I would be able to answer the parents of those infants slain by the tyrant Herod. All I know is this, and I will stake my very life upon it: It is not God's will that any child should die. Now we see through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face. There is much we do not understand, but God is the God who revealed Himself in the manger of Bethlehem. God is a God of love, mercy, hope and peace. God does not coerce by force, but leads by the example of love, the love showed by Jesus Christ upon the cross of Calvary. If you want a leader for your life if you want a Lord for your life, I can recommend no other.

Washington, D.C. March 30, 1863

Senator James Harlan of Iowa, whose daughter later married President Lincoln's son Robert, introduced this Resolution in the Senate on March 2, 1863. The Resolution asked President Lincoln to proclaim a national day of prayer and fasting. The Resolution was adopted on March 3, and signed by Lincoln on March 30, one month before the fast day was observed.

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

Whereas, the Senate of the United States, devoutly recognizing the Supreme Authority and just Government of Almighty God, in all the affairs of men and of nations, has, by a resolution, requested the President to designate and set apart a day for National prayer and humiliation.

And whereas it is the duty of nations as well as of men, to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions, in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon; and to recognize the sublime truth, announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed whose God is the Lord.

And, insomuch as we know that, by His divine law, nations like individuals are subjected to punishments and chastisements in this world, may we not justly fear that the awful calamity of civil war, which now desolates the land, may be but a punishment, inflicted upon us, for our presumptuous sins, to the needful end of our national reformation as a whole People? We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven. We have been preserved, these many years, in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power, as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us; and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us!

It behooves us then, to humble ourselves before the offended Power, to confess our national sins, and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.

Now, therefore, in compliance with the request, and fully concurring in the views of the Senate, I do, by this my proclamation, designate and set apart Thursday, the 30th. day of April, 1863, as a day of national humiliation, fasting and prayer. And I do hereby request all the People to abstain, on that day, from their ordinary secular pursuits, and to unite, at their several places of public worship and their respective homes, in keeping the day holy to the Lord, and devoted to the humble discharge of the religious duties proper to that solemn occasion.

All this being done, in sincerity and truth, let us then rest humbly in the hope authorized by the Divine teachings, that the united cry of the Nation will be heard on high, and answered with blessings, no less than the pardon of our national sins, and the restoration of our now divided and suffering Country, to its former happy condition of unity and peace.

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this thirtieth day of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty seventh.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln
William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

The following quotation is from a Christian man who has been an invalid all his life, one of those lonely and obscure people who live in constant pain, who do not know what it means to be able to use their physical body in any way without pain and suffering:

“Loneliness is not a thing of itself, not an evil sent to rob us of the joys of life. Loneliness, loss, pain, sorrow, these are disciplines, God’s gifts to drive us to his very heart, to increase our capacity for him, to sharpen our sensitivities and understanding, to temper our spiritual lives so that they may become channels of his mercy to others and so bear fruit for his kingdom. But these disciplines must be seized upon and used, not thwarted. They must not be seen as excuses for living in the shadow of half-lives, but as messengers, however painful, to bring our souls into vital contact with the living God, that our lives may be filled to overflowing with himself in ways that may, perhaps, be impossible to those who know less of life’s darkness.”

A young employee secretly misappropriated several hundred dollars of his business firm's money. When this action was discovered the young man was told to report to the office of the senior partner of the firm. As he walked up the stairs toward the administrative office the young employee was heavy-hearted. He knew without a doubt he would lose his position with the firm. He also feared the possibility of legal action taken against him. Seemingly his whole world had collapsed.

Upon his arrival in the office of the senior executive the young man was questioned about the whole affair. He was asked if the allegations were true and he answered in the affirmative. Then the executive surprisingly asked this question: "If I keep you in your present capacity, can I trust you in the future?" The young worker brightened up and said, "Yes, sir, you surely can. I've learned my lesson."

Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, 'Who are these, clothed in white robes, and whence have they come?' I said to him, 'Sir, you know.' And he said to me, 'These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.' " (vv. 13-14)

Violet Asquith was once sitting next to Winston Churchill at a dinner party. She said that he sat there for a long time and said very little. She reported that he seemed to be in deep thought. Then he became aware of his environment and began to recognize that she was there. At that point, he turned and asked her how old she was. She told him that she was nineteen years of age. He told her that he was 32 years old. Then he said, "Curse ruthless time! Curse our mortality. How cruelly short is the allotted span for all we must cram into it!" He then went on to speak at length about the shortness of life and ended by saying, "We are all worms. But I do believe that I am a glowworm."

Because of Jesus Christ, all who trust in him as Savior and Lord can make the same claim.

A young soldier, while dying very happily, broke out in singing the following stanza:

"Great Jehovah, we adore thee,
God the Father, God the Son, God the Spirit,
joined in glory on the same eternal throne:
Endless praised to Jehovah, three in one."

The chaplain then asked if he had any message to send his friends. "Yes," said he. "Tell my father that I have tried to eat my meals with thanksgiving."

"Tell him that Christ is now all my hope, all my trust, and that he is precious to my soul."

"Tell him that I am not afraid to die all is calm"

"Tell him that I believe Christ will take me to himself, and to my dear sister who is in heaven."

The voice of the dying boy faltered in the intervals between these precious sentences. When the hymn commencing, "Nearer, my God to thee," was read to him, at the end of each stanza he exclaimed, with striking energy, "Oh Lord Jesus, thou are coming nearer to me."

Also at the end of each stanza of the hymn (which was also read to him) commencing, "Just as I am without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bid'st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come," he exclaimed, "I Come! O Lamb of God, I Come!" Speaking again of his friends, he said, "Tell my father that I died happy." His last words were, "Father, I'm coming to thee!" Then the Christian soldier sweetly and calmly "fell asleep in Jesus."

(Anonymous Confederate soldier 1861-65/died in battle in the War Between the States)

In a home of which I know, a little boy, the only son, was ill with an incurable disease. Month after month the mother had tenderly nursed him, read to him, and played with him, hoping to keep him from the dreadful finality of the doctor's diagnosis—the little boy was sure to die. But as the weeks went on, he gradually began to understand that he would never be like the other boys he saw playing outside his window. Small as he was, he began to understand the meaning of the term death, and he too knew he was to die.

One day his mother had been reading to him the stirring tale of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table, of Lancelot and Elaine the lily maid of Astelot, and about that last glorious battle where so many fair knights met their death.

She closed the book as her little son sat silent for an instant, deeply stirred. Then he asked the question weighing on his childish heart, "Mama, what is it like to die? Mama, does it hurt?" Quick tears sprang to her eyes and she fled to the kitchen, supposedly to tend to something on the stove. She knew it was a question with deep significance. She knew it must be answered satisfactorily. So, she leaned for an instant against the smooth surface and breathed a hurried prayer that the Lord would keep her from breaking down before the boy and that she would be able to tell him the answer; the Lord did tell her. Immediately she knew how to explain it to him.

"Kenneth," she said to her son, "do you remember when you were a tiny boy how you used to play so hard all day that when night came you were too tired even to undress and you'd tumble into your mother's bed and fall asleep. That was not your bed, it was not where you belonged. You would only stay there a little while. Much to your surprise you would wake up and find yourself in your own bed in your own room. You were there because someone had loved you and taken care of you. Your father had come with big strong arms and carried you away.

George Matheson was a great preacher and hymn writer who lost his sight at an early age. He thought of that infirmity as his thorn in the flesh, as his personal cross. For several years, he prayed that his blindness would be removed. Like most of us, I suppose, he believed that personal happiness would come to him only after the handicap was gone. But then, one day God sent him a new insight: The creative use of his handicap could actually become his personal means of achieving happiness!

So, Matheson went on to write: "My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn. I have thanked Thee for my roses, but not once for my thorn. I have been looking forward to a world where I shall get compensation for my cross, but I have never thought of the cross itself as a present glory. Teach me the glory of my cross. Teach me the value of my thorn. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow."

Congratulations, George Matheson! Congratulations on finding God's kind of happiness -- the kind of happiness that is not only a future hope, but also a very present reality. So may it be for us all.

The point I want to make here is this: God's kind of happiness, as defined in the Beatitudes of our Lord, represents a radical reversal of almost everything we have ever been taught about the meaning of happiness! Look at the Beatitudes again and contrast them with what we have been taught. "Happy are those who know they are spiritually poor." We have always been taught to define happiness in terms of wealth. "Happy are those who mourn." We have been taught that happiness means never experiencing anything that causes us grief. "Happy are those who are humble." We have been taught that happiness is defined in terms of aggression and the competitive spirit. "Happy are those whose greatest desire is to do what God requires." We have been taught that happiness lies in the desire to conform to the values of our own society.

"Happy are those who are merciful to others." We have been taught that the quality of mercy is a sign of weakness. "Happy are the pure in heart." Tell that one to the guys and gals at work! "Happy are those who work for peace." We have been taught that happiness is defined in terms of preparedness for war. "Happy are those who are persecuted because they do what God requires." We have tended to call such people fools or fanatics! "Happy are you when people insult you...and tell all kinds of evil lies against you because you are my followers." We tend to say, "Don't get mad, get even!" We say it again: God's kind of happiness reverses almost everything we have been taught about happiness. But if one of us has to be wrong -- either us or God -- you can be sure that it isn't God.

I once read something called "Deal's First Law of Sailing." It goes something like this: "The amount of wind will vary inversely with the number and experience of the people you have on board the sailboat." And the second law is like unto it: "No matter how strong the breeze when you leave the dock, once you have reached the farthest point from the port from which you started, the wind will die."

Those who have the hobby of sailing can attest to the validity of these "laws." In fact, the art of sailing is a good analogy for the receiving of God's grace. While sitting in a sailboat, have you ever tried to make the wind blow? It cannot be done. Neither can you, by your own efforts, cause God's grace to come upon you. While sailing, you are entirely at the mercy of the wind (along with your skill at capturing it). You may capture the wind in your sails for a time, but it can disappear suddenly, leaving you stranded in the middle of the lake, and, if you do not have a motor, too embarrassed to ask for a tow. Sailing is a humbling experience. You may use the wind to take you where you want to go for a time, but it can shift directions without warning. Sailing makes you aware of your dependency.

That's Jesus' message in John, Chapter Three. You cannot capture the grace of God, you can only receive it. God's Spirit moves where He wills, and the birth from above is just that: from above. It is the work of God's Spirit within us, not something we do for ourselves.

In Scripture we see several purposes for fasting. It's part of the discipline of self-control; it's a way of sharing that we depend on God alone and draw all our strength and resources from him; it's a way of focusing totally on him when seeking his guidance and help, and of showing that you really are in earnest in your quest; it's also, at times, an expression of sorrow and deep repentance, something that a person or community will do in order to acknowledge failure before God and seek his mercy.

We tend to think of fasting as going without food. But we can fast from anything. If we love music and decide to miss a concert in order to spend time with God, that is fasting. It is helpful to think of the parallel of human friendship. When friends need to be together, they will cancel all other activities in order to make that possible. There's nothing magical about fasting. It's just one way of telling God that your priority at that moment is to be alone with him, sorting out whatever is necessary, and you have cancelled the meal, party, concert, or whatever else you had planned to do in order to fulfill that priority.

God’s “glory” is how we describe the sum effect of all of his attributes: Grace, truth, goodness, mercy, justice, knowledge, power, eternality—all that he is. Therefore, the glory of God is intrinsic, that is, it is as essential to God as light is to the sun, as blue is to the sky, as wet is to water. You don’t make the sun light; it is light. You don’t make water wet; it is wet. In all of these cases, the attribute is intrinsic to the object.

In contrast, man’s glory is granted to him. If you take a king and take off all his robes and crowns and give him only a rag to wear and leave him on the streets for a few weeks, when put next to a beggar you’ll never know which is which. Because there is no intrinsic glory. The only glory a king has is when you give him a crown and a robe and sit him on his throne. He has no intrinsic glory.

That’s the point. The only glory that men have is granted to them. The glory that is God’s is his in his essence. You can’t de-glory God because glory is his nature. You can’t touch his glory. It cannot be taken away. It cannot be added to. It’s his being.

It is the nature of God that he makes something out of nothing. Consequently, if someone is not nothing, God can make nothing out of him. Men make something into something else. But this is vain and useless work. Thus God accepts no one except the abandoned, makes no one healthy except the sick, gives no one sight except the blind, brings no one to life except the dead, makes no one pious except sinners, makes no one wise except the foolish, and in short, has mercy upon no one except the wretched, and gives no one grace except those who have not grace. Consequently, no proud person can become holy, wise or righteous, become the material with which God works, or have God's work in him, but he remains in his own works and makes a fabricated, false and simulated saint out of himself, that is a hypocrite.

Jesus often taught by telling parables. These were simple, down-to-earth stories which expressed spiritual truth. Today, on this third weekend of Advent, I want to use a favorite Christmas story as a modern parable. This is a true story, told to me some ten years ago by Dr. Edward Bauman of Washington, D.C.

About 30 years ago a boy named Tony was born into a family in a Midwestern state. He was blind at birth. He suffered from an extremely rare eye problem for which there was no known cure. When the little fellow was about seven years old, his doctor read in the New England Journal of Medicine of a new surgical procedure that showed some promise for correcting this particular problem. A young surgeon at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston had developed it. The local doctor and the surgeon began communicating. The boy's full medical record was sent. A decision was made to try surgery. Since Tony's family could not afford the expenses involved, local churches and civic clubs helped out.

Tony had a favorite teddy bear which he kept with him almost all the time. This teddy bear had begun to show signs of wear. One eye was missing; one ear was chewed off; and through several holes the stuffing was oozing out. Tony's mother told him that she was going to buy him a new teddy bear to take to Boston. Tony rejected that offer in no uncertain terms. What good is a new teddy bear when you have an old, familiar, friendly one already broken in? So, the old teddy bear went to Boston and remained close to Tony through all the medical procedures leading up to surgery: the x-rays, tests, and consultations. In fact, the boy and his teddy bear were not separated until the anesthesia was applied.

Throughout this whole period the boy and the young surgeon were becoming great friends. In fact, the surgeon was almost as excited as the family about the possibilities of this surgery. Somehow there was a good chemistry of friendship and trust between physician and Tony. When the surgery was completed, Tony was heavily bandaged and had to remain quite still for a number of days. That is very hard for a 7 year old. But each day the surgeon was in an out of the room encouraging him.

Finally came the day for removing the bandages. For the first time in seven years of life, a little boy could see. Though the vision was blurred at first, it gradually clarified. For the first time Tony looked into the faces of his parents, saw a tree, and a sunset. The young surgeon was almost literally jumping up and down for joy.

Before long it was time for Tony to be discharged and to go home. The surgeon had been dreading this day because the two of them had become such good friends. On that final morning, the surgeon signed the necessary discharge papers. He gave Tony a big hug and said, "'Listen, I own stock in you. I expect to get letters from you regularly. Do you understand?"

Then Tony did something totally unexpected. He said to his surgeon friend, "I want you to have this," and handed him his teddy bear. The surgeon’s first impulse was to say, "Oh no, I can’t separate you two good friends." But something stopped him. With a flash of sensitive genius, the surgeon understood what Tony was trying to do. He wanted to give his dear surgeon-friend the most precious gift at his disposal, so full was his heart with love. The wise surgeon accepted the teddy bear with a hug and a thank-you, assuring Tony that he would take mighty good care of his friend.

For over ten years that teddy bear sat in a glass case on the tenth floor of Massachusetts General Hospital---one eye missing, one ear chewed half off, and stuffing oozing out of holes. In front of the teddy bear was the surgeon's professional name card. Just beneath his name he had written this caption: "This is the highest fee I have ever received for professional services rendered." A little boy had given the most precious item he had, out of a love-filled heart.

This is a parable of Christmas. 2000 years ago our gracious God, with a heart filled with love, looked out upon a sin-marred, tear-stained world. Had you and I been in charge we might have destroyed the whole mess and started over. But God's great heart was too full of love to allow that. So he gave us the most precious gift at his disposal; he gave himself. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life."

Confronted by such an awesome gift, our only fitting response is to fall on our knees and to enthrone the living Christ as our personal King of kings and Lord of lords.

The Lord's Prayer is an expression of faith. It assumes that human beings are not self-sufficient but dependent on God. It is not a sign of weakness to pray but a sign of our humanity. Prayer acknowledges our need for God. Prayer is surrender. In his book, The Reaffirmation of Prayer, E. Glenn Hinson says that "the key to human existence lies in surrender to God, putting one's self and one's affairs utterly and with complete child-like trust in God's hands."

Grace is God drawing sinners closer and closer to him. How does God in grace prosecute this purpose? Not by shielding us from assault by the work, the flesh, and the devil, nor by protecting us from burdensome and frustrating circumstance, not yet by shielding us from troubles created by our own temperament and psychology, but rather by exposing us to all these things, so as to overwhelm us with a sense of our own inadequacy, and to drive us to cling to him more closely.

This is the ultimate reason, from our standpoint, why God fills our lives with troubles and perplexities of one sort and another it is to ensure that we shall learn to hold him fast. The reason why the Bible spends so much of its time reiterating that God is a strong rock, a firm defense, and a sure refuge and help for the weak is that God spends so much of his time showing us that we are weak, both mentally and morally, and dare not trust ourselves to find or follow the right road. When we walk along a clear road feeling fine, and someone takes our arm to help us, likely we would impatiently shake him off; but when we are caught in rough country in the dark, with a storm brewing and our strength spent, and someone takes our arm to help us, we would thankfully lean on him. And God wants us to feel that our way through life is rough and perplexing, so that we may learn to lean on him thankfully. Therefore he takes steps to drive us out of self-confidence to trust in himself, to in the classic scriptural phrase for the secret of the godly man's life "wait on the Lord."

Years ago this country witnessed the execution of Timothy McVeigh, the man responsible for the worst act of domestic terrorism in U.S. history. A USA Today poll taken in April showed that 81 percent of Americans wanted McVeigh to be executed -- and 28 percent of that support was from people who are normally against the death penalty. No matter where you stand on the issue of capital punishment, this particular execution has forced itself on our consciousness. One thing that particularly caught my attention was that in lieu of any verbal comment, McVeigh gave a handwritten statement to the warden, quoting a section of the poem "Invictus," which is Latin for "unconquered." That poem, by 19th-century British poet William Ernest Henley (1849-1903), reads in part "I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul." In case you haven't heard the poem, it goes like this:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

From what we've learned of McVeigh's attitudes and opinions, those lines probably come as close as any to a philosophy of life for him. Even to the point of ending the appeals process, McVeigh sought to be the master of his fate. But of course he's not. And in a letter written just a day before his death, he demonstrated how little he understood that. He wrote that if it turned out that there was an afterlife, he would "improvise, adapt and overcome." As if he or any of us will have the ability to affect our environment after arrival in the world to come! Once we are at the judgment seat of God, none of us is any longer master of our fate.

It's worth noting that when the poet Henley wrote those words, he was not thinking of setting his own standard of morality, as McVeigh appears to have done. Far from claiming the right to be judge, jury and executioner of others, Henley was vocalizing his attitude toward the hurts and setbacks of life. At the age of 12, he developed tubercular arthritis, and his left foot was amputated in his teens. He had other health problems later on, and actually wrote "Invictus" while once again in the hospital, too ill to work. He was, as his poem says, "bloody, but unbowed." For Henley, "Invictus" was an expression of courage in the face of life's difficulties, not a license to kill.

McVeigh sounds an awful lot like the attitude of the legion of demons. The demons knew, once they saw Jesus’ boat land near their home town, that their days were numbered. So, they start bartering with Jesus. What are you doing here? What do you want with us? Please, don’t torture us. (There’s a hypocritical request if I ever heard one. They had been torturing this poor man for years and now they are begging for mercy.) Finally, knowing that they would have to leave their host they asked to be sent into a heard of nearby pigs. When this happens the pigs become disoriented and throw themselves along with the demons over the cliff and into the sea where they drown. McVeigh perhaps felt he could master his own fate even the fate that befalls us in the afterlife. Perhaps he will find what he is looking for but the demons did not; they bartered, got what they wanted, and lost!

The full sermon can be found on Sermons.com by doing a Scripture search for Luke 12, the sermon titled, "God, The Enemy."

When a young 4th century Roman soldier and seeker of the Christian faith by the name of Martin of Tours met an unclothed man begging for alms in the freezing cold, he stopped and cut his coat in two and gave half to the stranger.  That night he dreamt he saw the heavenly court with Jesus robed in a torn cloak.  One of the angels present asked, "Master, why do you wear that battered cloak?"  Jesus replied, "My servant Martin gave it to me."

Martin's disciple and biographer Sulpicius Severus states that as a consequence of this vision Martin "flew to be baptized".  God is gracious and merciful; his love compels us to treat others with mercy and kindness. When we do something for one of Christ's little ones, we do it for Christ.  Do you treat your neighbor with mercy and love as Christ has treated you?

The present decade may well be termed the Age of Anxiety. Anxiety is nothing new. In the Sermon on the Mount we read (Matthew 6:25, 33-34): "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ... But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day."

We need not rehearse all the problems with the economy, crime, terrorists, and assassination attempts. The evening news plays the same familiar tune night in and night out. Sometimes we feel that these days we have to take the bad with the worst. Much of the time we feel apprehensive about the future. Feeling uneasy, we sometimes wonder what impending ill will befall us next.

In the light of many troubles, the Sermon on the Mount seems to be a tough saying from Jesus. It states that if our minds were set on God, we would not lack the needful things of this earth. When we are anxious over daily concerns, it often has a paralyzing effect on our religious life. Worrying about items of food and clothing directs our life inward toward ourselves rather than outward toward the Lord.

In his sermon the Lord does not speak out against working, or planning, or saving for the future. But our obsession with having the so-called better things in life and the increased amount of time it now takes to be able to afford them, has, too often, supplanted the art of living. Further, and inexcusable in God’s eyes, work has threatened the worship life of many Christians. Many people are working on Sundays. Others work so long and so hard during the week that they say they do not have time for God on Sundays. Jesus has no understanding of this and says in reply, "Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Seek ye first the kingdom of God, then all else will be added unto you."

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "If a man owns land, the land owns him." In some ways he is right. As we begin to own things in life and acquire better things, there are times that it seems that these things own us rather than the other way around. Our increased bills dictate to us that we must work overtime, work on Sunday, or that both husband and wife need to go to work. Maybe if we decided to own less, we could live more.

Jesus concludes his teaching on anxiety by stating that we are not to be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let today’s troubles be sufficient for the day. In Deuteronomy 33:25 God says, "as thy days, so shall thy strength or we don’t trust in the Lord for strength to meet tomorrow or we don’t." Otherwise, we will constantly ruin the present by worrying about the future.

In Isaiah 41:13 God says, "For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’ Worry is an insult to God. Anxiety demonstrates lack of faith. When we feel anxious, we best kneel before the Lord, confess our sins, and surrender our anxieties to him."

The one time seminary professor of Christian ethics at Duke University, Stanley Hauerwas had a novel idea about how churches should receive new members. He has written about the church's need for honesty and has called us to tell the truth as a "community of character."

To this end, he has a modest proposal. Whenever people join the church, Hauerwas thinks they should stand and answer four questions:

1. Who is your Lord and Savior? The response: "Jesus Christ."
2. Do you trust in him and seek to be his disciple? "I do."
3. Will you be a faithful member of this congregation? The answer: "I will."
4. Finally, one last question: What is your annual income?

You heard me correctly. When people join the church, Dr. Hauerwas thinks they ought to name their Lord and Savior and tell fellow church members how much money they make. It is obvious why Hauerwas was a professor and a pastor. His idea just wouldn't work, especially in the American church. Most church members believe salary figures are more sacred than prayer, and would quickly tell an inquisitive minister to snoop around somewhere else. What's more, parish experience tempers the questions a minister asks of church members. Most pastors quickly learn how to dance around the issue of money without ever naming it.

Leadership is influence, the ability of one person to influence others. One man can lead others only to the extent that he can influence them. This fact is supported by definitions of leadership by men who have themselves wielded great influence.

Dr. John R. Mott, a world leader in student circles, gave as his definition: "A leader is a man who knows the road, who can keep ahead, and who can pull others after him."

President Truman's definition is: "A leader is a person who has the ability to get others to do what they don't want to do, and like it."

Lord Montgomery defines it in these terms: "Leadership is the capacity and will to rally men and women to a common purpose, and the character which inspires confidence." I like that: The capacity to rally and the character to inspire. Montgomery enunciated seven ingredients necessary in a leader in war, each of which is appropriate to the spiritual warfare:

1. He should be able to sit back and avoid getting immersed in detail.
2. He must not be petty.
3. He must not be pompous.
4. He must be a good picker of men.
5. He should trust those under him, and let them get on with their job without interference.
6. He must have the power of clear decision.
7. He should inspire confidence.

Dr. John R. Mott was the head of the YMCA saw these ingredients as important in leaders:

1. Does he do little things well?
2. Has he learned the meaning of priorities?
3. How does he use his leisure?
4. Has he intensity?
5. Has he learned to take advantage of momentum?
6. Has he the power of growth?
7. What is his attitude to discouragements?
8. How does he face impossible situations?
9. What are his weakest points?

I was spending the night in the hospital room with my mother.  Fifteen years before, she had won a tough, ravaging battle with cancer. Now it had struck again.  She had a mastectomy that morning and had been sedated all day.  In the middle of the night I was dozing, but her stirring brought me to alertness.  I had the feeling that she wanted to talk, and that she wanted to talk about real things - not just make time passing conversation. 

How did she feel? What was she thinking?  There was a lot of deep sharing.  I hope I never forget that night and what she said. "When you give your life to the Lord, son, everything has to be alright no matter what happens."  It was her way of expressing confidence that she was O.K. In God's hands.  She had known God's love and care in the past, and she could trust him now.  Mom taught me that trust is a verb.  We trust and rely on God to be true to His promises.

Martin Luther was once asked what he would do if he knew that the world was coming to an end tomorrow, and he said: "I would plant an apple tree." In other words, Luther, trusting in God's gracious, unmerited mercy would live life just as he had been living it. When John Wesley was asked the same thing, being an obsessive-compulsive type, he said that he would arise at 4:00 AM, preach at 5:00 visit the sick at 7:00, go to communion at 8:00...etc., until the questioner realized that that was exactly what Wesley had planned to do tomorrow anyway! Because we believe that God is like Christ, we can dare to live in faith and hope and love now; trusting God for whatever the future holds, because we believe that God holds the future, and that God's Name and God's Nature are love.

In a cathedral in Copenhagen, Denmark, there is a magnificent statue of Jesus by the noted sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen. When Thorvaldsen first completed the sculpture he gazed upon the finished product with great satisfaction. It was a sculpture of Christ with face looking upward and arms extended upward. It was a statue of a majestic, conquering Christ.

Later that night, however, after the sculptor had left his fine new work in clay to dry and harden, something unexpected occurred. Sea mist seeped into the studio in the night. The clay did not harden as quickly as anticipated. The upraised arms and head of the sculpture began to drop. The majestic Christ with arms lifted up and head thrown back was transformed into a Christ with head bent forward and arms stretched downward as if in a pose of gentle invitation. At first Thorvaldsen was bitterly disappointed. As he studied the transformed sculpture, however, he came to see a dimension of Christ that had not been real to him before. It was the Christ who is a gently, merciful Savior. Thorvaldsen inscribed on the base of the completed statue, "Come Unto Me," and that picture of the Lamb of God in his mercy has inspired millions.

O God, our Heavenly Father, protect and bless us. Deepen and
strengthen our love for each other day by day. Grant that by Thy
mercy neither of us ever say one unkind word to the other.
Forgive and correct our faults, and make us constantly to forgive
one another should one of us unconsciously hurt the other. Make
us and keep us sound and well in body, alert in mind, tender in
heart, devout in spirit. O Lord, grant us each to rise to the
other's best. Then we pray Thee add to our common life such
virtues as only Thou canst give. And so, O Father, consecrate
our life and our love completely to Thy worship, and to the
service of all about us, especially those whom Thou has appointed
us to serve, that we may always stand before Thee in happiness
and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Have you ever stopped to examine weeds? They serve as a reminder of judgment, a result of the curse on the ground after the fall of Adam. But if you look closely, you can see signs of mercy in that judgment. Some weeds have gorgeous flowers: tiny blue bells, ruffled purple blooms, and even magnificent displays of gold. In the same way—even in trials or discipline—if we look closely, we can see beautiful signs of God’s mercy.