His name was Paul. He lived in a small town in the Pacific Northwest some years ago. He was just a little boy when his family became the proud owners of one of the first telephones in the neighborhood. It was one of those wooden boxes attached to the wall with the shiny receiver hanging on the side of the box… and the mouthpiece attached to the front. Young Paul listened with fascination as his mom and dad used the phone… and he discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device called a telephone lived an amazing person. 

Her name was “Information Please"… and there was nothing she did not know.  Information Please could supply anybody's number… and the correct time! Paul's first personal experience with “Information Please" came one day when he was home alone and he whacked his finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible and he didn't know what to do… and then he thought of the telephone. Quickly, he pulled a footstool up to the phone, climbed up, unhooked the receiver, held it to his ear and said: “Information Please" into the mouthpiece. There was a click or two and then a small clear voice spoke: “Information." “I hurt my finger," Paul wailed into the phone. “Isn't your mother home?" “Nobody's home but me," Paul cried. “Are you bleeding?"  “No," Paul said. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." “Can you open your ice-box?" “Yes." “Then go get some ice and hold it to your finger." Paul did and it helped a lot. 

After that Paul called “Information Please for everything. She helped him with his geography and his math. She taught him how to spell the word “fix."  She told him what to feed his pet chipmunk. And then when Paul's pet canary died, she listened to his grief tenderly and then said: “Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow that helped and Paul felt better. 

When Paul was nine years old, he moved with his family to Boston… and as the years passed he missed “Information Please" very much. Some years later as Paul was on his way out west to go to college, his plane landed in Seattle. He dialed his hometown operator and said, “Information Please." 

Miraculously, he heard that same small clear voice that he knew so well.  “Information." Paul hadn't planned this, but suddenly he blurted out: “Could you please tell me how to spell the word “fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft answer: “I guess your finger must be all healed by now." Paul laughed. “So it's really still you. Do you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time when I was a little boy?" “I wonder," she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me! I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls so much." 

Paul told her how much he had missed her over the years and asked her if he could call her again when he was back in the area. “Please do," she said, “just ask for Sally." Three months later, Paul was back in Seattle. This time a different voice answered. He asked for Sally. “Are you a friend?" the operator asked. “Yes, a very old friend." Paul answered. “Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died 5 weeks ago." Before he could hang up, the operator said: “Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?" 

“Yes." “Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. It says: ‘When Paul calls, tell him that I still say: there are other worlds to sing in.' He will know what I mean."  Paul thanked her and hung up and he did know what Sally meant. 

“There are other worlds to sing in." Isn't that a beautiful and powerful thought? And that is precisely what John 3 is all about. “There are other worlds to sing in"… in this life and, yes, even beyond this life. When Jesus said to Nicodemus that night: “You must be born again." “You must be born from above." That's what he meant… you don't have to stay the way you are. 

You can make a new start. You can have a new life. You can become a new person. There are other worlds to sing in.

Athanasian Creed: Athanasius, known as Athanasius of Alexandria, was the 20th bishop of Alexandria. His intermittent episcopacy spanned 45 years, of which over 17 encompassed five exiles. He is traditionally thought to be the author of the this Creed named after him. It was created to guard Nicene Christianity from the heresy of Arianism. It is widely accepted as orthodox and some abbreviated versions of it are still in use today. And yes, the intro and outro are actually part of the original text. 

Whoever desires to be saved should above all hold to the catholic faith.

Anyone who does not keep it whole and unbroken will doubtless perish eternally.

Now this is the catholic faith:

    That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity,
    neither blending their persons
    nor dividing their essence.
        For the person of the Father is a distinct person,
        the person of the Son is another,
        and that of the Holy Spirit still another.
        But the divinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is one,
        their glory equal, their majesty coeternal.

    What quality the Father has, the Son has, and the Holy Spirit has.
        The Father is uncreated,
        the Son is uncreated,
        the Holy Spirit is uncreated.

        The Father is immeasurable,
        the Son is immeasurable,
        the Holy Spirit is immeasurable.

        The Father is eternal,
        the Son is eternal,
        the Holy Spirit is eternal.

            And yet there are not three eternal beings;
            there is but one eternal being.
            So too there are not three uncreated or immeasurable beings;
            there is but one uncreated and immeasurable being.

    Similarly, the Father is almighty,
        the Son is almighty,
        the Holy Spirit is almighty.
            Yet there are not three almighty beings;
            there is but one almighty being.

        Thus the Father is God,
        the Son is God,
        the Holy Spirit is God.
            Yet there are not three gods;
            there is but one God.

        Thus the Father is Lord,
        the Son is Lord,
        the Holy Spirit is Lord.
            Yet there are not three lords;
            there is but one Lord.

    Just as Christian truth compels us
    to confess each person individually
    as both God and Lord,
    so catholic religion forbids us
    to say that there are three gods or lords.

    The Father was neither made nor created nor begotten from anyone.
    The Son was neither made nor created;
    he was begotten from the Father alone.
    The Holy Spirit was neither made nor created nor begotten;
    he proceeds from the Father and the Son.

    Accordingly there is one Father, not three fathers;
    there is one Son, not three sons;
    there is one Holy Spirit, not three holy spirits.

    Nothing in this trinity is before or after,
    nothing is greater or smaller;
    in their entirety the three persons
    are coeternal and coequal with each other.

    So in everything, as was said earlier,
    we must worship their trinity in their unity
    and their unity in their trinity.

Anyone then who desires to be saved
should think thus about the trinity.

But it is necessary for eternal salvation
that one also believe in the incarnation
of our Lord Jesus Christ faithfully.

Now this is the true faith:

    That we believe and confess
    that our Lord Jesus Christ, God's Son,
    is both God and human, equally.

     He is God from the essence of the Father,
    begotten before time;
    and he is human from the essence of his mother,
    born in time;
    completely God, completely human,
    with a rational soul and human flesh;
    equal to the Father as regards divinity,
    less than the Father as regards humanity.

    Although he is God and human,
    yet Christ is not two, but one.
    He is one, however,
    not by his divinity being turned into flesh,
    but by God's taking humanity to himself.
    He is one,
    certainly not by the blending of his essence,
    but by the unity of his person.
    For just as one human is both rational soul and flesh,
    so too the one Christ is both God and human.

    He suffered for our salvation;
    he descended to hell;
    he arose from the dead;
    he ascended to heaven;
    he is seated at the Father's right hand;
    from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
    At his coming all people will arise bodily
    and give an accounting of their own deeds.
    Those who have done good will enter eternal life,
    and those who have done evil will enter eternal fire.

This is the catholic faith:
one cannot be saved without believing it firmly and faithfully.

This ecumenical creed (428 A.D.) is probably unknown to most Christians because it is seldom, if ever, used in worship services. It is probably not used because of its length. The Nicene Creed has eighteen printed lines, whereas the Athanasian has 69. It is difficult for congregations to use because of the creed's intricate and complex terms.

Though the creed carries the name of Athanasius, he did not write it. It was the product of the church of his time. The creed was named after him to honor him for his brave and forceful defense of the Trinity. Athanasius (289-373) was a bishop in Alexandria, Egypt.

The creed deals primarily with the Trinity and Jesus as the Son of God. At this time, the heresy of Arius was prominent. He taught that Jesus was not fully human or divine and that the Holy Spirit was not God but only a divine influence. The Athanasian Creed denounced these false teachings and upheld the doctrine of the Trinity. Luther's high regard for this creed was expressed: "I doubt, since the days of the Apostles, anything more important and more glorious has ever been written in the church of the New Testament."

Acts 1:4-14 contains certain encouragements to the followers of Christ to be an "expectant" fellowship. With this in mind, let us consider some specific instances where expectancy is implied.

1. Acts 1:5: "For John baptized with water but before many days you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit." What is the difference between John’s water baptism and the baptism of the Holy Spirit?

a. John’s baptism. Water baptism was commonly practiced by the Jews long before the appearance of John. It symbolized religious purification, and in a more specialized use it was applied when new converts entered into Judaism (proselyte baptism). John, however, baptized both Jews and Gentiles as a rote of moral purification for the approaching Kingdom of God. Although John’s baptism would enable those who submitted to it to meet the "Day of the Lord," it was to be distinguished as different from a future baptism, administered by one who "will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire."

b. Baptism of the Holy Spirit. This baptism consists not in symbolic gestures of initiation, but in the receiving of "power." It does not ordain anybody for, or against, the future but rather manifests itself in a spiritual experience in the present. An initiatory baptism is symbolically accomplished once, whereas the baptism of the Holy Spirit may occur quite unrehearsed many times over. The element of expectation is contained in the selected scripture by the phrase, "But before many days, you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit."

2. Acts 1:7-8: "It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father had fixed by his own authority. But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you." The disciples have just asked Jesus a legitimate question regarding the nature of his mission. A simple "yes" or "no" answer would not have been sufficient inasmuch as if he replied, "Yes (I have come to restore the Kingdom of Israel)," it would have been a lie, and if he had replied "No," they would have become disillusioned with him in the beginning. Instead, he informs them that it is not for them to know all the mysteries of God - but there is a consolation: "You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you." Perhaps it is like saying to someone, "You cannot adequately define love, but nonetheless you can experience it." Here, the power of the Holy Spirit is promised, and they are encouraged to expect it in their own experience.

3. Acts 1:11: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven?" I suppose the most logical answer would have been, "Because we are bewildered!" It would have been extremely difficult to have acted otherwise while witnessing their Lord being lifted up into heaven on a cloud. If that were not enough, two men in white robes suddenly appeared to stand by them and question their amazement. In all probability, at least one of the inferences here is that rather than gazing into heaven, it would be more proper to get on with the business of the Kingdom, teaching and preaching, and doing "whatsoever I have commanded you." However, they should pursue their tasks of soul-winning with an attitude of expectancy because "this Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way."

4. Acts 1:14. "All those with one accord devoted themselves to prayer." And we may be sure that their prayers contained expectancy. Expectancy for what? For the baptism of the Holy Spirit and the return of the risen Lord.

This statement (Matt 12:32, par Mk. 3:29, Luke 12:10) has been the subject of much questioning. Obviously the reference here is not to the naming of the Holy Spirit in a blasphemous utterance, for in Matt. 12:32 even blasphemy against the Son of man can be forgiven. Among the many attempts at exegesis, the most convincing is the suggestion that the man who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit is he who has recognized that God is working through the Holy Spirit in the actions of Jesus, and who quite consciously "misrepresent faith in God as faith in the devil.  This saying is an extremely serious warning against the demonic and scarcely conceivable potential in man: To declare war on God.  This is not done in weakness and doubt, but by one who has been overcome by the Holy Spirit and who knows very well on whom he is declaring war" (E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark, 1971, 87; cf. H.W. Beyer, TDNT I:624; O.E. Evans, "The Unforgivable Sin", ExpT 68, 1956-57, 240-44). This is the blasphemer who does it deliberately, after encounter with the God of grace, as the context shows. For Jesus has just been accused of casting out demons by Beelzebul, the prince of demons. "Therefore he who blasphemes the Spirit is no longer speaking against a God who is distant, about whom he entertains mere foolish thoughts, but against the one who makes evident to him his gracious work, and confirms it with his manifest, divine seal. He is a man who ought to give thanks, not to blaspheme" (A. Schlatter, on Matt. 12:32).

W.L. Lane draws attention to Sifre on Deut. 32:38 (end): "The Holy One, blessed be he, pardons everything else, but on profanation of the Name [i.e. blasphemy] he takes vengeance immediately" (The Gospel of Mark, NLC, 1974, 145) Lane goes on to comment: "This is the danger to which the scribes exposed themselves when they attributed to the agency of Satan the redemption brought by Jesus. The expulsion of demons was a sign of the intrusion of the Kingdom of God. Yet the scribal accusations against Jesus amount to a denial of the power and greatness of the Spirit of God. By assigning the action of Jesus to a demonic origin the scribes betray a perversion of spirit which, in defiance of the truth, chooses to call light darkness. In this historical context, blasphemy against the Holy Spirit denotes the conscious and deliberate rejection of the saving power and grace of God released through Jesus' work and act" (ibid). Thus blasphemy here is much more serious than the taking of the divine name in vain which a believer may have done before coming to repentance and faith.

It may be said to those who have been tormented by fear that they have committed the unforgivable sin that their concern is itself a sign that they have not committed the sin envisaged in Jesus' teaching here. Lane's interpretation also helps to explain the distinction drawn between blasphemy against the Son of man and blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. The distinction suggests that "while an attack on Jesus' own person, as son of Man and therefore 'hidden', is pardonable, any speaking against the power by which he works (i.e. the divine endowment for his messianic ministry) will not be pardoned" (D. Hill, The Gospel of Matthew, New Century Bible, 1972, 318). For such an action would be deliberately to attribute to Satan the action of God himself. (NIDNTT, v. 3, pp. 343-344)

What is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit? Though many suggestions have been offered, I think the answer lies in the context here (Luke 12:7-12) and in the context of redemptive history. Remember that the Holy Spirit had not yet been poured out, and it is the Spirit who causes men to recognize who Jesus is. Hebrews 6 and 10 contain discussions of unforgivable sins, but the distinction between blasphemy against Christ and the Spirit has disappeared. Jesus seemed to be saying this: Because the Holy spirit has not yet been poured out in fullness, the Jews will be forgiven for blaspheming the Son of Man. They will be given a second chance to repent, as we see in the book of Acts. If, however, they continue to blaspheme after the Spirit has come, they will not be forgiven. But what is the sin, specifically? Since it is blasphemy, we must see it essentially as a verbal sin. In context it is the sin of saying that Jesus Christ is of the devil. Jesus was willing to excuse this blasphemy before Pentecost; but, in the new covenant era it is not longer excusable. If a person curses Jesus, but does not really know who Jesus is, that sin is forgivable. But if the Holy Spirit has borne witness to a person that Jesus is indeed the Son of God, and that person curses Him, it cannot be forgiven.

On the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit fell upon the waiting disciples, there were a number of extraordinary events occurring: there was the sound of a rushing wind, cloven tongues of fire appeared, and they all began to speak in other languages and the Holy Spirit gave them ability. The Jews who were visiting Jerusalem, from all nations, hearing them speak in their own tongues, were amazed at this startling phenomenon. They came to the hasty, false conclusion that the disciples must be drunk, and accused them, saying, "They have had too much wine!" "Not so!" said Peter. "It is only nine in the morning -- far too early to be fixed. They are not drunk, but rather filled with the new wine of the Spirit. This is what Joel the prophet foretold many years ago."

In other words, the Holy Spirit is New Wine and it cannot make you drunk. The Spirit will not cloud your mind, it won't cause you to talk stupidly, it won't make you an unsafe driver, and it won't give you a hangover. The disciples were not inebriated, but rather filled with God the Holy Spirit. They had not imbibed on the fruit of the vine, nor had they drunk the nectar of the gods, but they had been filled with the Divine Nectar, the New Wine from heaven. This Spirit will be a wine for all occasions, for all people.

Before his Ascension, Jesus had wanted his followers to know that the same Lord who had called them and ministered to them in his physical presence would now, through the Holy Spirit, always be with them. They must realize that the crucified, resurrected, and now ascended Lord would return. The same Spirit which dwelt in him would now dwell in them.

On this anniversary of the Day of Pentecost, when the Christian Church was born, let us be deeply grateful that the Spirit of Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit, has come to us. Without the Holy Spirit, Christian discipleship would be impossible. We would have no understanding of spiritual things without the Spirit of Truth. We would never enjoy Christian fellowship with one another without the unity of the Spirit. We could never be effective Christian witnesses without the Spirit's power. In fact, we would have no life without the life-giving Spirit. Just as the body without breath is a corpse, so a church without the Holy Spirit is dead!

The rest of the sermon follows this outline:

1. They Waited And Prayed
2. The Specifics Of The Spirit's Coming
3. This New Wine Makes A Difference

The novelist, A. J. Cronin, tells a story from his own experience as a doctor that catches the wonder of the gift of grace. The Adams family at the close of the Second World War decided to open their home to a little refugee boy with the outlandish name of Paul Piotrostanalzi. The Adams had two daughters and a son named Sammy. Sammy and Paul became inseparable friends, but little Paul was a difficult child, and often disobeyed Mr. and Mrs. Adams. One day, little Paul went swimming in some contaminated water. He became very ill with a high fever, and the doctor suggested he sleep in an attic bedroom. But little Sammy missed his friend Paul so much that one night he crept up the attic stairs and into bed with Paul. Paul's hot breath fell on Sammy's neck all night. In the morning, Sammy, never a strong child, became deathly ill. Paul recovered his health, but Sammy died within three days. It was a terrible tragedy for the Adams family.

A year later Dr. Cronin decided to pay a call on the Adams family. But as he pulled into their driveway, he was amazed and then angry as he saw Paul, the refugee boy, working in the garden with Mr. Adams. He got out of his car and angrily approached Mr. Adams. "What's this Paul Pio........ whatever his name is, doing here after what he did to your family?" Mr. Adams looked at the doctor and then said quietly, "Dr. Cronin, you won't have any more trouble with Paul's name. You see, he's Paul Adams now. We've adopted him." That is a wonderful story of costly grace, and that is exactly the wonderful gift that Jesus once gave to a heart-hungry tax collector named Zacchaeus.

Celtic Christians chose, not the dove, but the wild goose as a symbol representing the Holy Spirit. It sounds strange to us, but it has a long tradition in Ireland.

While the Roman Church imagined the Holy Spirit in the form of a peaceful, graceful dove, the Ancient Celts understood the Holy Spirit to be like a wild goose. When you hear of the Spirit descending like a heavenly dove on you, you hear harps and strings softly playing and get a peaceful feeling. The image of the Holy Spirit as dove has become so familiar and domesticated an image we pay little attention.

The image of a wild goose descending upon you is a different matter altogether. A wild goose is one noisy, bothersome bird. I like this image of the Holy Spirit as a wild goose because it jars us out of our complacency. We need such an image to correct our overly safe and overly sweet image of the Spirit. One preacher friend asked, "How many times can you sing 'There's a Sweet, Sweet Spirit in This Place' without your blood sugar reaching diabetic levels?"

When the Spirit comes in the Bible, it never seems to be sweet or safe. God's Spirit called the prophets to speak to Israel in words that were bold and sometimes dangerous. Ezekiel saw a vision of God's Spirit blowing through a valley of dry bones and bringing them to life. John the Baptist dressed in camel's hair and eating wild locusts proclaimed, "I baptize you with water but he who comes after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." Paul gave this advice to young Timothy, "For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline" (2 Timothy 1:6-7).

Neither safe nor tame, the Spirit inspired Paul to proclaim, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28).

It was this wild Goose that Jesus referred to when he preached his first sermon and quoted Isaiah, saying, "For the Spirit of the Lord is upon me for he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of God's favor" (Luke 4:18).

Pastor Roy Angell tells this story: A college friend of mine named Paul received a new automobile from his brother as a pre-Christmas present. On Christmas Eve, when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin (poor kid who hangs out in the streets) was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. "Is this your car, mister?" he asked.

Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas."

The boy looked astounded."You mean your brother gave it to you, and it didn’t cost you nothing? Boy, I wish…"

He hesitated, and Paul knew what he was going to wish. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels, "I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."

Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively asked, "Would you like to ride in my automobile?"

"Oh, yes! I'd love that!"

After a short ride the urchin turned, and with his eyes aglow said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?"

Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride in a big automobile.

But Paul was wrong again.

"Will you stop right where those two steps are?" the boy asked.

He ran up the steps. Then, in a little while, Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast.

He was carrying his little polio-crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.

"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas, and it didn't cost him a cent. And someday I'm gonna give you one just like it. Then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."

Paul got out and lifted the little lad to the front seat of his car. The shining-eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.

I must candidly confess that when I was in seminary the 16th chapter of Paul's letter to the Romans didn't do much for me. It struck me as being boring nothing more than a long presentation of people's names, most of whom I could not pronounce; I usually skimmed over that part so I could get to what I considered to be the real Gospel. Over the years I have greatly changed my attitude about this particular chapter and I have discovered that there is much more to it than I had first imagined. For example, it is interesting to note that of the twenty-six people who Paul singles out for his personal greeting, six were women. Now that strikes me as being rather interesting, since Paul has frequently gotten a bum rap for being a male chauvinist. I think it also shows us the tremendous influence that women had in the early church. In the male oriented first century Palestine, it is telling that Paul could not describe the church without mentioning the significant role of women.

Verse 13 of chapter 16 is particularly interesting and it is one that scholars have struggled with over the centuries. Paul writes: "Give my greetings to Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mother and mine." Now this statement could be taken two ways. It could mean that Paul had two distinct women in mind--the mother of Rufus and his own personal mother. Or, he could be saying: "I salute Rufus and his mother, who is like a mother to me." If that is what he meant, and most Biblical scholars agree that that is indeed what he meant, then it raises some interesting speculation. When and where did Paul meet Rufus' mother? Did she nurse him through some serious illness? 

Did she receive him into her home for an extended stay during his missionary journeys? How did this woman and Paul form such a close bond that he refers to her fondly as being like his mother? Mark tells us that Simon of Cyrene, the man who carried Jesus cross, had two sons: Alexander and Rufus. Was this the same Rufus to whom Paul was speaking? If that is true, his mother would be Simon of Syrene's wife. No one knows for sure who this remarkable woman was who served as a mother figure for the great Paul. But it really makes no difference, because what he writes makes an excellent springboard for a Mother's Day sermon.

Some people ridicule Mother's Day as a lot of sentimental drivel. They say that it is nothing more than the creation of the greeting card companies and the florists. And, to be perfectly candid, there are many ministers who shun this day because, they say, it is not a religious holiday. Furthermore, they preach from the lectionary, which has an assigned scriptural reading each week, and therefore mother's day is left out.

Well, of course, we must admit that there is sentiment to this day, but what is wrong with that? Seems to me that a little bit of sentiment is healthy.  True enough, there are some women in the Bible, such as Jezebel and the vindictive Herodias, who had John the Baptist beheaded, who tarnish the institution of motherhood. There are women today who abandon, abuse, and corrupt their children and who create a poor model, but I like to think that these are the exceptions. Most mothers do the right thing and deserve recognition. So this morning I would like to join Paul and salute all of the mothers who are with us.

1. First, mothers should be saluted for their tenacious love.
2. Secondly, mothers should be saluted for the tremendous impact they have.
3. Third, mothers should be saluted because where they are, that is where home is.

Paul and Silas had been thrown into prison at Philippi because Paul had cast a demon from a slave girl. However, there were extenuating circumstances. It seems the slave girl allegedly had powers of divination which enabled her to engage in "fortune telling." Her owners had managed to turn her condition into a rather lucrative business. And, of course, when Paul removed the demon, he also eliminated the owner’s profit. Let’s think about that for a moment. Isn’t it fortunate that some people cannot receive the joy of a blessing because of a bitter spirit? A young girl, who is described by commentators as being mentally deranged, is healed! And yet all her owners could think about was the money her healing was going to cost them. I am reminded of the woman who went into the hospital for a physical examination without the knowledge of the minister or anyone else in the church. When her tests confirmed that she was in excellent health, she was dismissed to go home. A few days later, when the minister learned she had been in the hospital, he stopped by to see her. She proceeded to scold him because neither he nor anyone at the church had been to see her in the hospital (one and one-half days). She was sadly unable to enjoy the good news about her health because she had a bitterness in her spirit. It was the same kind of attitude that put Paul and Silas in prison.

Paul and Silas were singing hymns in the cell and, about midnight, there was a great earthquake. The foundations of the jail quivered and shook. The doors were flung open and the fetters of all the prisoners were unfastened. When the jailer saw that the doors were opened he supposed the prisoners had escaped. Knowing that he would be held accountable, he drew his sword and was about to take his own life when Paul said, "Do not harm yourself, for we are all here" (v. 28). The jailer immediately fell to his knees before Paul and said, "What must I do to be saved?" Paul answered, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved." The jailer and his entire family were baptized and received into the fellowship of Christ. His life had been saved twice; once during the earthquake, and once from his own hand. Now he was saved for all eternity.

In all probability, the hymns which Paul and Silas were singing at midnight had little if anything to do with the Philippian jailer’s conversion. I would suspect that the eartquake stood him mentally erect, causing him to get in touch with the condition of his spirit. An earthquake can do that. So can foxholes, tornadoes, or a doctor saying to us, "I’m afraid I have some bad news." These and similar situations which you could name confront us with reality in a hurry. The earthquake made its impact on the jailer.

However, the fact that Paul and Silas did not attempt to escape from their cell also impacted the jailer. The coincidences were too numerous to ignore; the hymn singing, the earthquake, the cell being opened, the fetters on all the prisoners unfastened, and ... not the slightest attempt to escape. Something was going on here! The accumulation of events brought the jailer to his moment of conversion.

Let the record show that conversion may occur suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, or it may come upon us slowly, cumulatively, as the result of assorted experiences and reflections. And in the simple story of the Philippian jailer, we find the format for conversion in its simplest form (16:29-31), regardless of time, place, or manner.

In his autobiography, Dr. A.J. Cronin tells of a neighboring family called the Adamses. Mr. Adams was an accountant in New York City, but he loved to spend all the hours he could working in his garden at their Connecticut home with his only son, Sammy. When WWII broke out, Mrs. Adams suggested they take a refugee child into their home. Mr. Adams wasn't much in favor of the idea, but he went along with it to please her. The child they received came from an orphanage in Central Europe with the impossible name of Paul Piotrostansilis. Unfortunately, as Paul learned the language of his new family in Connecticut, he also learned to manipulate the truth. He found it easy to steal and do mischief and broke the Adams' hearts many times. He did, however, develop a close friendship with the Adams' little son, Sammy.

One day, Paul, against their specific warning, went swimming in a polluted stream near their home and came back with an infection that brought with it a raging fever. Because of the possibility it might be contagious, Paul was put in a separate room and Sammy was told to stay away from him. Paul eventually pulled through the crisis, but, while he was still sick, one morning the family found Sammy asleep in bed with Paul, the two of them breathing into each other's faces. And sure enough, Sammy caught the disease. The fever raged through him, and only four days later, Sammy died.

Dr. Cronin remembered hearing about the tragedy while away on an extended study leave. He wrote his neighbors, expressing his sympathy for them, telling them that he, for one, would understand should they feel the need to send Paul back, after all the heartache he had caused them. A few months later, upon returning from his leave, Dr. Cronin went next door to visit the Adamses and was surprised to see the same familiar sight of a man and a boy working side by side in the garden. Only this time the boy was Paul.

"You still have him then?" Cronin inquired. "Yes," Henry Adams replied, "and he is doing much better now." "All I can say to you, Paul," Cronin muttered, "is that you're a pretty lucky boy." "Dr. Cronin," Henry interrupted, "you don't need to bother trying to pronounce his name anymore, either. He is now Paul Adams. We have adopted him. He is now the son we lost."

That's the kind of love God has for us. A love that Jesus expresses in the face of threatened death, a love that goes about its business, in spite of the consequences. Love that adopts us as children. Love that makes us citizens of heaven. Love that puts us in our places and gives us our inheritances.

There's a trend on social media to cancel peoples livelihood for even the slightest offenses that the person attacking them doesn't like. It's been billed the "cancel culture." It's an evil behavior often by anonymous sources. But it's not new. More prevalent but not new. And it certainly has been in the church for a long time. Let's use the acrostic CCC: Christian Cancel Culture.  

A religious weight loss program called Weigh Down created in 1992 by a woman named Gwen Shamblin grew from a small business conducted out of a home garage to a multimillion-dollar Nashville corporation with over 30,000 churches and organizations participating. But last year the whole movement was threatened and her business placed in jeopardy when Shamblin, on August 10th made comments regarding her beliefs in the Trinity. Here is what she said, "As a ministry, we believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. However, the Bible does not use the word "trinity," and our feeling is that the word "trinity" implies equality in leadership, or shared Lordship. It is clear that the scriptures teach that Jesus is the Son of God and that God sends the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit does not send God anywhere. God is clearly the Head."

Her comments sent shockwaves through her community of followers and business partners. She was removed from the Women of Faith Web site, influential evangelical churches dropped her program, even some key employees left. Thomas Nelson, her publisher, quickly canceled the publication of her book that was then scheduled for release in one month. All of this because she trifled with the Trinity.

If you are confused as to why her words got her into so much trouble, that is quite understandable. The church has struggled to explain how God can be both One God and three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Where Mrs. Shamblin went wrong was in her statement that God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit were not equal in leadership. In an interview, she agreed that Jesus was both Lord and God but she maintained that Jesus held only a secondary and unequal relationship to the Father.

If you are still confused, let me ask you this: What is the conclusion of such a statement? It is this: Jesus is not fully God. This cuts at the heart of the church's historic teaching that Jesus Christ, in his very nature, was both fully God and fully man. It's a mystery which we accept through faith. Yet Shamblin tries to argue her point by saying that Christians grieve Jesus if they adhere to doctrines not found in Scripture. She says, "If God wanted us to refer to Himself, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit as the 'trinity,' He would not have left this word completely out of the Bible."

We must tread carefully when these kinds of claims are made. Just because a word is not in the bible doesn't mean that it is unbiblical. There are a lot of words that we use in the church that are not found in the Bible. In fact, the word Bible is not in the Bible.

Now we find ourselves this morning, on Trinity Sunday, struggling with this ancient doctrine. What are the essentials of our faith and why is the Trinity one of them? And how can we safeguard our pursuit of truth?

In the season of Epiphany we look at those special events in Jesus' life where his presence was especially manifested with power. Jesus' baptism is one of those epiphanies. You heard Luke's version read this morning. The Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form as a dove, and a voice came from heaven,"Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased."  In newer translations, which are thought to be more accurate, the adjective "beloved" is made a separate phrase to emphasize the intensity of the personal nature of this experience. "You are my Son. My beloved. In thee I am well pleased."

That is Luke's version. All four gospels portray this scene. But Luke's version is a little different than the others. In each version, though, the Spirit descends"like a dove."   The Holy Spirit is not a bird. Luke and the other apostles use the dove as a metaphor for the Spirit's coming into our lives. It is a beautiful metaphor. Have you ever seen a dove descend and land? It is graceful, gentle, and quiet. That's the point being made. That is the way the Holy Spirit will enter into our lives. The Holy Spirit came to Jesus gently, quietly, and in Luke's version, privately.

That is why Luke is different than the other three gospels. The other writers imply that the Spirit descended upon Jesus at his baptism, apparently when he was still in the water. That is the way this scene is often portrayed in religious art, especially those beautiful paintings out of the Middle Ages. Jesus, standing waist deep in water. John the Baptist standing next to him, pointing at Jesus, as if to say, "This is the one!" or, in the words of the Gospel of John, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!" Above Jesus' head in these scenes is the Spirit, as a dove, descending. It is like the symbol that is in the baptismal font here, a nimbus around the Holy Spirit as he hovers above Jesus' head.

That's the way all the other gospels picture it. But Luke is different. He says,"Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the Holy Spirit descended upon him." Which means that the Epiphany, this special presence of God in this event, came to Jesus when he was by himself, praying. In other words, it wasn't a public event. It was a personal and private experience. No one else saw it. No one else heard that voice from heaven. He came out of the water, went off by himself, and prayed. That is when it happened.

Luke, more than any other gospel, emphasizes that Jesus prayed…

The earliest known mention of the expression "Apostles' Creed" occurs in a letter of AD 390 from a synod in Milan. The most traditional version of the creed is as follows:

I believe in God, the Father almighty,
      creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
      who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
      and born of the virgin Mary.
      He suffered under Pontius Pilate,
      was crucified, died, and was buried;
      he descended to hell.
      The third day he rose again from the dead.
      He ascended to heaven
      and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty.
      From there he will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,
      the holy catholic* church,
      the communion of saints,
      the forgiveness of sins,
      the resurrection of the body,
      and the life everlasting. Amen.

*that is, the true Christian church of all times and all places

The Old Roman Symbol (Latin: vetus symbolum romanum), or Old Roman Creed, is an earlier and shorter version of the Apostles’ Creed. It was based on the 2nd-century Rule of Faith and the interrogatory declaration of faith for those receiving Baptism. It is said that this earlier and first adopted version was based on the Trinitarian formula found in The Great Commission in Matthew 28:19. It was widely accepted in the 4th century, that, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, each of the Twelve Apostles contributed an article to the twelve articles of this creed:

I believe in God the Father almighty;
and in Christ Jesus His only Son, our Lord,
     Who was born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary,
     Who under Pontius Pilate was crucified and buried,
     on the third day rose again from the dead,
     ascended to heaven,
     sits at the right hand of the Father,
     whence He will come to judge the living and the dead;
and in the Holy Spirit,
     the holy Church,
     the remission of sins,
     the resurrection of the flesh
     (the life everlasting)

The Apostles' Creed (100 A.D.) is the oldest and shortest creed with only 109 words in the traditional version. Only the New Testament creed, "Jesus is Lord," is older. It is also the most often used -- practically every Sunday, except for festivals and seasons when the Nicene Creed is confessed. Undoubtedly, it is the most universal statement of the Christian faith.

By 100 A.D. the Apostles' Creed became the basic statement of faith for the church. In the first century, it was the rule of faith for baptismal candidates. In 390 it became known as the Apostles' Creed, even though it was not written by the apostles but contained the beliefs of the apostles. An ancient legend has it that after Pentecost the apostles agreed on a summary of what they were going to preach. The summary was the Apostles' Creed. Yet, the creed did not reach its final form until the sixth or seventh century. Martin Luther held this creed in such high regard that he used it in his Small Catechism to teach families what a Christian believes. To this day the Small Catechism is used as the basis for youth and adult preparation for church membership in Lutheran churches.

There are two aspects in the manifestation of tongues: first, the sign of tongues in Acts 2, 10, 19 (and probably in Ch 8); second, the gift of tongues in the early apostolic church. The gift under the second aspect evidently was not permanent (1 Cor 13:9-13), nor given to every believer. It required the concomitant gift of interpretation (1 Cor 12:10; 14:1-40). This sign gift with interpretation was meant to instruct the church before the completed NT Scriptures were given. Under the first aspect tongues were a means by which the Holy Spirit witnessed to Israel on the day of Pentecost (2:4-13).  They were a sign of the truth that Jesus was the Messiah and an indication of the new age of the Spirit. The Jews were again challenged by the Samaritans' receiving the Holy Spirit (Acts 8:14-17), and, although this is not specifically mentioned, they may have been given the evidence that the despised Samaritans had actually received the same gift as the Jews, by the sign of their supernatural utterances (cf. 11:17).

This is the use of tongues in the introduction of the gift of the Holy Spirit to Gentiles (Acts 10:44-47). Nothing could have been more convincing to skeptical, unbelieving Peter and his Jewish colleagues than the fact that Cornelius and the other Gentiles spoke in supernatural languages just as the Jews at Pentecost.

The disciples of John the Baptist who received the Holy Spirit and spoke in languages they had never learned (Acts 19:6-10) were a similar witness to the strong Jewish community at Ephesus. For the disciples of John the Baptist, whom the Jews generally accepted as a God-sent prophet, to be blessed by the Holy Spirit after being baptized in the name of the rejected Messiah, was of the deepest significance. 'But some of them [the Jews] became obstinate; they refused to believe' as Isaiah (Isa 28:11-12) had predicted (1 Cor 14:22).

I recently was in the company of a minister friend who, between conversations, periodically hummed the tune to Charles Tindley’s great old hymn, "Stand By Me." He frequently interrupted his humming to sing such verses as he could recall. In time, I inquired as to his fascination with that particular hymn. "Oh," said he, "we sang it in church this past Sunday and I’ve had it on my mind ever since. Besides, its always been one of my favorites."

We all have favorite hymns which impress themselves upon our lives until we find ourselves even unconsciously drawing upon their influence, don’t we? Sometimes we are attracted first by the tune ... at other times, the words ... or at other times by the story of how the song came into being. We may be assured that the Psalms, the hymnbook of the Jewish people, contain many such songs which were hummed or sung aloud in the course of an ordinary day because they had become so indelibly imprinted upon the souls of a people who were able to "Sing the Lord’s song (even) in a strange land." Psalm 103 is such a song. What a magnificent affirmation of faith! "Bless the Lord," it proclaims, and forget not the benefits of the One who forgives your iniquity, heals your diseases, redeems your life from the Pit, crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, and renews your youth like the eagles.

There is more here than a song. It is the verbalization of an experience. The Psalmist expressed the experience through music, the prophets through prophecy, Christ through Calvary, Paul through his life and letters, and multitudes of saints across the ages through their witness. God crowns us with steadfast love!

In 1874 Dwight L. Moody and Ira Sankey boarded a train in Glasgow, Scotland, on their way to Edinburgh where Moody was to preach and Sankey was to lead the singing. Sankey perused a newspaper while Moody tended to some correspondence and jotted down notes for his sermon. Sankey was about to discard the newspaper when he noticed a little poem appearing in the corner of one of the pages. It had been written by a little orphaned Scottish girl who had died five years before the Glasgow paper had printed it as a "filler." Her name was Elizabeth Clephane. Sankey tore the poem from the paper and put it in his pocket with the thought of perhaps setting it to music one day. Later that evening in Edinburgh, Moody preached a sermon on "The Good Shepherd," then called on Sankey for a solo. Not having been told beforehand the subject of Moody’s sermon, and certainly unprepared to sing, Sankey was taken by complete surprise. He had absolutely no idea what piece of music would be appropriate for the moment, even if he had had time to think about it. At a loss, he approached the pulpit, bowed his head for a moment, removed the little poem from his pocket. Without the slightest idea of a tune, he prayed for the Holy Spirit to direct him as he attempted to sing a poem which had no music. He began, "There were ninety and nine that safely lay in the shelter of the fold ..."

There is more than a song here. It is yet another verbalization of God’s steadfast love.

In our quest of freedom and spontaneity, many of us have grown up in a generation that has underrated the place of discipline. Much of our educational system has abhorred inhibitions, stated that impulses must have free rein, and has deified doing your own thing. It forgot some very elemental facts of life. Let me mention just a few. No simple deed is performed such as preparing a meal, reading a book, or going to church without the discipline of ignoring a thousand allurements. Attention shuts out literally hundreds of distracting sights and sounds, forbids hundreds of inward promptings that would divert us from the task at hand. No significant act is done without discipline. Sporadic church attendance shows lack of discipline in many cases. To see the totally uninhibited life, where people obey their impulses without hindrance, look at some of the patients in a mental institution. This is the uninhibited life, par excellence.

God who is even smarter than John Dewey, the father of progressive education, has always known we needed discipline. Because of this, he even uses suffering to a good purpose in our lives. Saint Paul says, "The Lord disciplines him whom he loves." Saint Paul knew personally what this meant. In Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians he spoke of a particularly troubling malady that he had asked God on several occasions to remove from him. Each time God answered that he could use Paul better with his weakness than with it removed. Finally, Paul accepted his malady, seeing that it drew him closer to the Lord.

"The Lord disciplines him whom he loves," is a most difficult scriptural lesson to accept. We are tempted to cry out, "Lord, please stop loving me so much." I’m sure my children often feel that way in the middle of a spanking ... Dad, don’t love me so much. God loves us so much that he can even use the painful experiences of our lives to draw us closer to him. The next time suffering visits our lives, we should not only pray God for release from it, but also to help us grow through it.

"How the mighty have fallen." King David of old once spoke those words concerning the death of King Saul. "How the mighty have fallen." These words have transcended the Bible and become the language of popular culture. A newspaper report a few years ago on some pastors who had fallen from grace used this biblical passage as its headline. The article was about two well-known television preachers -- Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker -- whose sins had been publicly exposed. "How the mighty have fallen" the newspaper headline gloated! Jimmy Swaggart is an interesting case in point.

Newsweek magazine once carried an article that featured this highly talented preacher. The article quoted one man as saying that Jimmy Swaggart was one of the most entertaining people on television in any field. The man didn't believe what Swaggart preached but he was dazzled by his entertainment and communication skills. "How the mighty have fallen!" Swaggart's sin seemed to be his fascination with pornography. One who knew him well over the years said: "His weakness for pornography finally beat him. He's fasted and prayed many times to overcome this weakness." Swaggart's weakness for pornography often led him to Louisiana brothels. It doesn't appear to be the case that Swaggart had sex with these women. He just asked them to pose for him in some suggestive ways. One night as he was leaving a brothel, however, someone who was out to expose him took some pictures. The pictures undid him. Scandal raged. Swaggart faced his congregation with tears running down his cheeks and remorse in his heart.

The response to Swaggart's fall was highly judgmental. People judged Swaggart harshly because he had been so judgmental in his preaching. In his judgments he came down on all sorts and varieties of people, including Christian people. Of the ministry of Jim Bakker, for example, Swaggart had said: "He's a cancer on the body of Christ that needs to be excised." Swaggart's preaching was judgmental indeed.

Swaggart was also judged harshly because of the peculiar nature of his message. Swaggart's message went beyond the proclamation of Jesus Christ to be a message fundamentally about the holiness work of the Holy Spirit. He proclaimed over and over again that through the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives we can overcome all sin. Thus he judged sinners. He invited sinners to be filled with the Holy Spirit in order to overcome all sin. Victory over sin would belong to all those who did business with the Holy Spirit.

What are we to think of this promise in light of Swaggart's own dark side? It's no wonder that some people relished the chance to defrock Swaggart in public. The mighty had fallen indeed. Hopefully he learned something from his trials.  A hint of wisdom is evident in some of the things he says. For example, he said reflecting on his experiences: "I have seen that the gospel is perfect but its messengers are not." Jimmy Swaggart could now identify with Peter, who began his ministry with these words: "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." Ministry always begins in confession!"

Jesus was preparing his disciples for tough times. He was about to ascend to the Father and they would be on their own left to find their way through this world alone. And yet, they would not be alone. For he would be with them in the presence of the Comforter, the Counselor, the Holy Spirit.

In 1520 Ferdinand Magellan battled for an entire year to find a passage around South America. There at the very tip of the continent, in its icy waters he encountered some of the worst weather anywhere on earth. Raging seas, towering ice floes, and a mutinous crew plagued his efforts. When he finally made his way through those straits (which today bear his name the Straits of Magellan), he entered into a great body of water that lay beyond, and as he and his men lifted their faces to heaven and gave thanks to God, he named the new ocean the "Peaceful Ocean." The word pacific is from the word pacify.

In his words this morning, Jesus desires to lead us in the same way to a place of peace. It is his hope to direct our feet and steer our lives from the paths that would lead to hell to his place of peace. "Let not your hearts be troubled," he says, "neither let them be afraid." 

Four centuries ago there was an incident that can serve as an example of the power of fear. It was the occasion of the last Tatar invasion of Russia in the fall of 1462. The two armies faced each other on the banks of the Oka River, which is located about 200 miles east of Moscow. For several days they had been engaged in battle. When the Tatar army would attempt to cross the Oka River, they would be beaten back by the Russians. It was the Oka River that gave the inferior Russian army any chance of surviving. After several days it began to appear that the river would be all the Russians needed to be saved from the onslaught of the Tatars. But then something happened that frightened them greatly. A cold wave developed that blew down the Ural Mountains and caused the Oka River to begin to freeze. If the river were to freeze over completely, it would mean that the Tatars would be able to cross and the Russians would be destroyed.

As the night passed the Russian soldiers were sitting by their fires discussing the problem of the freezing water. They knew full well what would happen if the enemy were able to cross on the hardened ice. With the wind growing stronger their fears evolved as well and by midnight the entire Russian army left their encampment. They did not stop until they had reached Moscow.

In the morning when the Tatars awakened they soon realized that the Russians were no longer on the other side of the river. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. This only caused the soldiers and their officers to speculate as to what might be happening. They concluded that the Russians had probably crossed the river many miles to the east and that they would now attack from the rear. Now it was the Tatars who were in a panic. In less than two hours they left their tents and were in retreat. The Tatars did not stop running until they reached the Volga River.

These two armies allowed fear, which was based in their imaginations, to lead and guide them. Too many times we function in the same way. We were built for faith and not fear. Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will empower us in all that we do. Jesus promises that he will give us his peace and then we will not need to be afraid.

Adapted by William Stidger, There Are Sermons in Stories (New York City: Abingdon-Cokesbury Press), p. 154. Used by permission.

Oswald Chambers, the great Christian writer, noted, "Someone who is constantly criticized becomes good for nothing; the effect of criticism knocks all the gumption and power out of the person. Criticism is deadly in its effect because it divides one's powers and prevents one from being a force for anything. That is never the work of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit alone is in the true position of a critic: He is able to show what is wrong, without wounding or hurting.

"The counsel of Jesus is to abstain from judging. This sounds strange at first, because the characteristic of the Holy Spirit in a Christian is to reveal the things that are wrong; but the strangeness exists only on the surface.

The Holy Spirit does reveal what is wrong in others, but His discernment is never for the purposes of criticism, but for the purposes of intercession."

John Updike, in his novels, portrays the spiritual bankruptcy of so many modern Americans who deceive themselves into thinking that disbelief is an intellectual achievement. In his book, "In The Beauty of the Lilies," the major character ends his life in disbelief and Updike says when the character dies, "He slipped away as an unmoored boat on an outgoing tide." Interestingly, this character is a Presbyterian minister, Clarence Wilmot, Princeton-educated, he has all the right credentials, but is lacking one essential one. Rather than depend on God's Holy Spirit to lead him into the mysteries of faith and revelation, he falls prey to the temptation that comes to us all. He substituted MORALISM and RELIGIOUS ACTIVITY for a genuine encounter with God, a dynamic relationship with Jesus Christ. When God failed to answer his questions with the answers he expected, he began to lose faith. He takes the easy way out. He no longer raises the questions. He is relieved when he finally admits he no longer believes. He is comforted. He leaves the ministry and begins peddling encyclopedias to poor people who need better jobs more than they need facts. He has absolutely no passion for anything except for sex, which becomes a substitute for God.

There are times in every person’s life when they suffer from feelings of inadequacy. Sometimes we even move from inadequacy to feelings of worthlessness. We feel we are not attractive enough or intelligent enough or as lucky as others. Success, as we dreamed of attaining it, has not happened to us. As we get older, childhood dreams of being someone important begin to vanish. Entering our middle forties, we begin to realize that our current position in life will not increase substantially.

The trappings of success are also elusive. We work so hard to have the good things in life and often find ourselves with little time or energy to enjoy them. There is no way to extend the 168 hours which comprise each week. The husband works fifty or more hours a week, and the wife works so the kids can go to college. In the process of trying to enhance the collective life of the family, less and less time is left to spend together sharing one another’s love and happiness. There is little wonder that we so often feel uptight and junky.

But God’s good word is that he made us, and he doesn’t make junk. In the Bible we read that we were created in the image of God. We were molded in the image of our Maker. Like God we can reason, we have a mind, a memory and a will. God even put us in charge of everything he created. God was pleased with his workmanship of man and said, "It is good." He made nothing more special or more beautiful than us. Made in the image of God, we even have the ability to control much of our destiny.

We should not think of ourselves as less than God thought of us. Look at your hands. They’re hands very much like the hands of Jesus. And Jesus was no junk. There should no more be a junky John or junky Mary or junky Kathy than a junky Jesus. Jesus was a man, and like us in every way with the exception of sin. And that is the difference. For you see, sin is the chief purveyor of junk in our lives. It was Adam and Eve’s sin of trying to be as God that tarnished the fullness of their image of God. It made them less than what God wanted for them. Sin brought with it pain and death. It pushed them away from God.

Yes, God made each of us, and he doesn’t make junk. We produce the junk in our lives when we let temptation get the best of us, when we try to attain unattainable goals and then labor under feelings of failure, when we get our priorities all mixed up, and when we walk life’s way apart from God.

Let’s not live one more day of our precious lives in a manner less than God desires. We confess our sins before the Almighty. We welcome Jesus’ entrance into our lives with all the power of the Holy Spirit. We pray, "Lord, lead me onto beautiful paths of meaningful life." And we boldly proclaim to ourselves and before the world, "God made me, and God doesn’t make any junk."

Contrary to what some of you may be thinking, this meditation, "Dips in Discipleship," is not a pejorative way of speaking about certain disciples of Christ. Had that been my intent, I would not have used an outdated term like "dip." We are not talking about dumb people who are out of touch with reality. Rather, I am referring to those times in our lives as Christian disciples when we enter into the valleys of depression. The times when nothing goes right, when thing get so bad that even God seems to have deserted us. We probably all have been through some of these times in our Christian lives. Perhaps some of us have dipped into the valley of depression recently and are still there. There are even times when it seems that the harder we try to do the will of the Lord, the more life gangs up on us and brings disappointment our way. As a result, we sometimes dip into pits of spiritual depression.

Now listen carefully, God deserts no one. God isn’t a problem provider. There is evil in the world that causes dips in discipleship, but there is no evil in God.

Remember the children’s prayer, "God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food"? That prayer is true. God is great and God is good - there is no evil in God. God is not the author of the dips. Crying out to God, "Why are you doing this to my life?" is dumping your garbage at the wrong doorstep. Rather, curse the Devil, the devisor of dips. Evil causes mental, physical, and spiritual sickness. When we become a disciple of Christ, we can almost guarantee that old evil foe is not going to sit on his thumbs but will put a few dips in the way of our lives.

Although God does not lead us into valleys of despair, he is even present in those valleys. As the psalmist says, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me." Even if we abandon God; he does not abandon us. As C. S. Lewis wrote, "The gates of hell only can be locked from the inside." God is always as close to us as a whispered prayer.

When he told the parable of the prodigal son, Jesus left no doubt that it is the Father’s desire to forgive us and re-enter into a loving relationship even after we have had a dip in discipleship. When all of our best efforts have failed and we realize that we can’t go it alone, through prayer we can invite the Holy Spirit to conquer the evil within us and to reinstate us as a member in good standing of God’s family.

When you are engaged in a particular life crisis, remember the story of David and Goliath. God helped David conquer a very large problem. If your life is calling upon you to stand firm for your principles, remember the time when Luther went to the Diet of Worms. The possibility of death snapped at his heels, but God was with him. He was not alone. Through God, he was also victorious.

Mee Spousler of the Mount Hope United Methodist Church, in Aston, PA., tells how she was trying to put her three-year-old son to bed for a nap.

When she was unsuccessful, she put him in her bed and laid down with him to encourage him to rest. She fell asleep, but he didn't. When she woke up, she saw him sitting on a chair at the end of the bed, and asked, "Luke, what are you doing?"

"I'm playing God," he replied.

"Playing God?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I'm watching over you while you sleep."

Children understand more than we do sometimes. God IS watching over us.  Jesus gave that promise here in talking about the coming of the Holy Spirit. Not only will God watch over us but through the presence and reminder of the Holy Spirit, we will be reminded of what it means to "Love Jesus and keep his commands." And God will help us to create the environment of love, grace, faith and security that we need for our homes today. Our challenge is to listen to the Holy Spirit and to trust Christ.

Some years ago, a clergyman of the Church of England attended an early-morning prayer meeting in behalf of Israel in an East London Jewish mission. Coming out on the street, he met another clergyman, who had attended a special service at St. Paul’s Cathedral on the anniversary of the conversion of the apostle Paul. After greeting each other, the second minister asked the other where he had been. He told him he had attended a Jewish mission meeting, upon which the second minister showed some surprise that his friend should believe in the possibility of Jews coming to faith. The minister who had attended the mission service asked the other where he had been and was told that he had attended a special service in honor of St. Paul at the cathedral bearing his name.

The clergyman who had attended the Jewish service asked, “Who exactly was Paul?”

The hesitating reply was, “I suppose you would consider him a believing Jew.”

“What music did they have at the service?”

“Why, Mendelssohn’s St. Paul, of course.”

“Who was Mendelssohn?”

“Why, a German.”

“No, he was not, he was a believing Jew,” was the reply.

The clergyman who did not seem to believe in the possibility of Jews coming to faith had been in a church dedicated to the memory of a Jewish believer, attending a service in honor of this Jew’s acceptance of the Messiah, had been listening to music composed by a Jewish believer, and was talking to a fellow clergyman—who was the Rev. Aaron Bernstein, a believing Jew.

Let us begin by abruptly relating three contemporary examples:

1. In late March of 1981, a mother drove her son John to an airport in Denver, put him out, and told him not to come home again. He didn’t. A few days after being dropped off at the airport, John Hinckley shot and wounded President Ronald Reagan, presidential press secretary James Brady, Secret Service agent Timothy McCarthy, and D.C. police officer Thomas Delahanty. A grim reminder that we inhabit a violent society.

2. Israel, the same family of earth from which emerged Jesus of Nazareth 2,000 years ago, today is the largest supplier of weapons to at least three countries in Central America. We live in a world of contradictions.

3. A recent ad in the New York Times invited persons to purchase a high-rise on Manhattan’s swank east side, and drive away in a free 1983 Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit. Apartments range from $583,000 to $1.2 million, but the automobile is free. Meanwhile, unemployment cripples thousands of our fellow citizens, and people stand in line to receive surplus cheese. Our society extends from the irresponsibly affluent to the painfully poor.

Change the examples above, but retain the italicized phrases, and see how similar our world is to that of Paul’s. The gospel was on trial then; it is on trial today. Has there been a time when it has not been on trial?

Both the Gospel and Paul were on trial in Jerusalem. But then again, as we have seen in Paul’s letters, the apostle had actually been on trial in Macedonia, Thessalonica, Beroea, Athens, Corinth, and Ephesus. Oh, he was not dragged into court in those places, but he was on trial all right. And now he had come to Jerusalem, bearing an offering collected from the Gentile churches. He had been warned not to enter the city (21:10-14), but he still came. Soon, he stood before Ananias, the Sadducees, and Pharisees ... on trial again. Whether intentional or incidental, Paul managed to accomplish a ruse which worked to his advantage. He reminded the assembly that he was a Pharisee and that he had been brought before them with respect to the resurrection. The Sadducees did not believe in a resurrection, angels, or spirits; the Pharisees did. Shortly, they were so busy arguing among themselves that they forgot the real issue and Paul was dismissed.

Can you think of instances where Christians have been so busily engaged with arguing among ourselves that we have forgotten the real issue or reason for our existence?

Legend has it that a wealthy merchant traveling through the Mediterranean world looking for the distinguished Pharisee, Paul, encountered Timothy, who arranged a visit. Paul was, at the time, a prisoner in Rome. Stepping inside the cell, the merchant was surprised to find a rather old man, physically frail, but whose serenity and magnetism challenged the visitor. They talked for hours. Finally the merchant left with Paul's blessing. Outside the prison, the concerned man inquired, "What is the secret of this man's power? I have never seen anything like it before."

Did you not guess?" replied Timothy. "Paul is in love."

The merchant looked bewildered. "In Love?"

"Yes," the missionary answered, "Paul is in love with Jesus Christ."

The merchant looked even more bewildered. "Is that all?"

Smiling, Timothy replied, "Sir, that is everything."

Though it is hard to pen scripture down on exactly what role government has in the Christian's life, the following is offered as a starting point: The general function of human government, as instituted by God, may be said to be threefold: to protect, punish, and promote.

• The Function of Protection: The moment Adam sinned it was obvious that civilizations would need some form of restraint and rule to protect citizens from themselves. An example of this function is seen in Acts 21:27-37 where Roman soldiers step in and save Paul from being murdered by his own enraged countrymen in Jerusalem.
• The Function of Punishment: Both Paul and Peter bring this out. Paul writes that duly appointed human officials are to be regarded as God's servants to "bear the sword," that is, to impose punishment upon criminals (vv. 3,4). Peter tells us that governors are "sent by him for the punishment of evildoers" (1 Pet 2:13, 14).
• The Function of Promotion: Human government is to promote the general welfare of the community where its laws are in effect. Paul commands us to pray for human leaders "that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty" (1 Tim 2:1,2). New King James Version Notes, Thomas Nelson, p. 1152

Converesly, we have a responsibility to human government. It is impossible for a believer to be a good Christian and a bad citizen at the same time. As children of God our responsibility to human government is threefold:

• We are to recognize and accept that the powers that be are ordained by God. "Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God." (Rom 13:1) This truth applies even to atheistic human governments unless, of course, the law is anti- scriptural. In that situation the believer must obey God rather than man (Acts 4:18-20). In fact, when Paul wrote those words in Romans 13:1, the evil emperor Nero was on the throne. See also Titus 3:1.
• We are to pay our taxes to human government (Matt 17:24-7; 22:21, Rom 13:7).
• We are to pray for the leaders in human government. "Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior" (1 Tim 2:1-3). New King James Version Notes, Thomas Nelson, p. 1270

We are to take responsibility for the right ordering of civil society without falling prey to the idea that it is within our power to build the Kingdom of God on earth.

“The pursuit of happiness."

It's a phrase with which every school child is familiar. But what a phrase . . . a phrase that is foundational to our national identity and part of the introductory insistence of our Founding Fathers' Declaration of Independence.

“Happiness" is an extraordinary “demand" for political revolutionaries. Equality. Democracy. Liberty. Freedom. Those are what we expect from our fiery ancestors. But life, liberty . . . and “the pursuit of happiness?" No matter how intellectually gifted, how democratically on fire, or how socially revolutionary, at some crucial point, at some heart of our humanity, all we want to do, all we want to feel, all we want is to be happy. No wonder Jesus started one of his most famous sermons with a litany of “Happy are those who . . ." (Matthew 5:1-12).

Perhaps the greatest sadness of Martin Luther, the simple monk who brought the hurricane winds of reformation to the entire continent of Europe, was that towards the end of his long and momentous life, he confessed that he could count on the fingers of one hand the days of complete happiness he could remember.

Luther measured “happiness" by the length of days. But happiness does not come neatly packaged in 24 hour increments. Happiness comes in unexpected spurts and momentary bursts. Happiness is woven into the tapestry of our life as an infusion of grace. Happiness is not something we “find." Happiness is something we cultivate on a daily basis, not for itself, but as part of a larger mission, a mission which, joyfully, sometimes gifts us with an unexpected bumper crop of happiness.

In the eighteenth century, when that “pursuit of happiness" phrase was coined, the buzzword “happiness" was loaded with meaning and merit. While Enlightenment figures applauded the pursuit of life, liberty, and the “pursuit of happiness," another Enlightenment figure, the founder of Methodism John Wesley, equated “happiness" with the way to “holiness." His phrase was “holiness is happiness," and over 70 of his sermons referenced and recommended “happiness" as the goal of the Christian life.  

But for Wesley “happiness" means more than “feeling good." “Happiness" means “pleasing God." In today's epistle text Paul makes an important distinction. It's a distinction many people never make their whole life long. It's a distinction between living one's life trying to “please people" and living one's life to “please God."

Paul has no interest in living to please people. Paul seeks the stamp of “approval" from none but God. Neither offering flattery to others nor gaining praise for himself is part of Paul's mission. Paul's mission lays out what matters most: Pleasing God…

Scarcely a greater contrast can be drawn than that between Paul and Nero. Nero was the Roman emperor, seated on a throne. His name was known throughout the empire. Paul was an obscure Jew, totally unimpressive in his physical appearance—he says so himself in his letters. In a distant corner of the Roman Empire, Paul was a leader in a small, heretical sect that was known only as a group of troublemakers. Virtually no one had heard of Paul, while everybody had heard of Nero.

The interesting thing is that now, two thousand years later, we name our sons Paul, and our dogs Nero.

In his book On a Wild and Windy Mountain, Dean of the Chapel at Duke University William Willimon tells of being in New Haven, Connecticut, as a student in 1970, during the famous Black Panther trial. Perhaps you remember those days -- the 1970s? It was a turbulent time for our country -- a time of strife, discord, and agony that threatened to tear our country apart. Much of the unrest of those days came to a focus during the trial of those Black Panther leaders. It was just at that time that Willimon happened to attend a choral mass at a Catholic church near Yale University. A boy's choir was singing a great Ascension composition called "Deus Ascendit – God Has Gone Up." As he sat there listening to those young voices, Willimon found himself thinking, "How appropriate. God has gone up. Gone up and away. God has left us to our confusion. Abandoned us in the midst of the angry shouts of the mobs, the sound of gunfire and the rhetoric of the revolutionaries." God indeed has abandoned us.

However, as he sat there and continued to listen, Willimon noticed that the boys were not singing "Deus Abscondit," which would mean "God has abandoned us," but rather they sang "Deus Ascendit," God has gone up. And the words of that song led Willimon to understand that God had not given up on us. Rather the Ascension of Jesus signaled that what Jesus had begun on earth would be brought to completion in heaven even after his ascension to heaven. As we say in the Creed each week, "He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father." He ascended not to abandon us but to complete what he began -- through the work of the Holy Spirit, through his church and through his faithful people, Christ still is at work to rule with love and mercy.

Christ has not abandoned us -- but he has ascended into heaven and that's what the focus of our worship today is about. So important is this event that Luke describes it twice -- in the last chapter of his gospel and the first chapter of Acts. The setting is the Mount of Olives. Forty days had passed since the resurrection of Jesus. It was time for him to return to heaven. And so once again, Jesus appears to the disciples. He joins them in worship. He breaks bread with them. He announces to them that they will soon receive the Holy Spirit, and when the Holy Spirit comes to them, they will be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria and even to the ends of the earth. And after he has given them this assurance, he is lifted up before them into the heavens until a cloud hid him from their sight. Deus Ascendit. God has gone up.

There's an interesting story behind Jimmy Reed records. In placing the phonograph needle again and again in the grooves of Jimmy Reed's records, you began to notice something curious. If one listened very carefully, there could sometimes be heard, ever so faintly in the background, a soft woman's voice murmuring in advance the next verse of the song. The story that grew up around this -- and perhaps it is true -- was that Jimmy Reed was so absorbed in the bluesy beat and the throbbing guitar riffs of his music that he simply could not remember the words of his own songs. He needed help with the lyrics, and the woman's voice was none other than that of his wife, devotedly coaching her husband through the recording session by whispering the upcoming stanzas into his ear as he sang.

Whether or not this story is accurate, Christians will surely recognize a parallel experience. Jesus tells his followers that the role of the Holy Spirit is, in effect, to whisper the lyrics of the gospel song in the ears of the faithful. When Jesus was present, he was the one who instilled in them the right words, coached them through the proper verses, taught them the joyful commandments. But now that Jesus approaches his death, now that he draws near to his time of departure, now that the disciples will be on their own without him, that task is to be handed over to the Holy Spirit:

"If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth ..." (John 14:15-17).

The primary task, then, of the Holy Spirit is reminding the faithful of the truth, jogging the memories of the followers of Jesus about all of his commandments so that they can keep them in love, whispering the lyrics of the never-ending hymn of faithful obedience in their ears.

To be filled with the Holy Spirit is to be filled with one who is already there, in our hearts. Take up a sponge and while it is in your hand squeeze it. In that condition, plunge it in water and submerge it, keeping it in there. It is now in the water and the water is in it. As you hold it in the water, you open your hand, and as you do so the water fills all the pores which you release in this way. It is now filled with the water. When we receive Christ we are born anew and put into that sphere where the Holy Spirit is operating and the Holy Spirit comes to reside in us!

How important is faithfulness in prayer? Dr. Wilbur Chapman often told of his experience when, as a young man, he went to become pastor of a church in Philadelphia. After his first sermon, an old gentleman said to him, "You're pretty young to be pastor of this church. But you preach the Gospel, and I'm going to help you all I can."

Dr. Chapman thought, "Here's a crank."  But the man continued: "I'm going to pray for you that you may have the Holy Spirit's power upon you. Two others have covenanted to join with me in prayer for you."

Dr. Chapman said, "I didn't feel so bad when I learned he was going to pray for me. The 3 became 10, the 10 became 20, and 20 became 50, the 50 became 200 who met before every service to pray that the Holy Spirit might come upon me. I always went into my pulpit feeling that I would have the anointing in answer to the prayers of those who had faithfully prayed for me. It was a joy to preach! The result was that we received 1,100 into our church by conversion in three years, 600 of whom were men. It was the fruit of the Holy spirit in answer to prayer!"

The Nicene Creed is a statement of belief widely used in Christian liturgy. It is called Nicene because it was originally adopted in the city of Nicaea (present day İznik, Turkey) by the First Council of Nicaea in 325.

We believe in one God,
      the Father almighty,
      maker of heaven and earth,
      of all things visible and invisible.

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
      the only Son of God,
      begotten from the Father before all ages,
           God from God,
           Light from Light,
           true God from true God,
      begotten, not made;
      of the same essence as the Father.
      Through him all things were made.
      For us and for our salvation
           he came down from heaven;
           he became incarnate by the Holy Spirit and the virgin Mary,
           and was made human.
           He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate;
           he suffered and was buried.
           The third day he rose again, according to the Scriptures.
           He ascended to heaven
           and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
           He will come again with glory
           to judge the living and the dead.
           His kingdom will never end.

And we believe in the Holy Spirit,
      the Lord, the giver of life.
      He proceeds from the Father and the Son,
      and with the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified.
      He spoke through the prophets.
      We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church.
      We affirm one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
      We look forward to the resurrection of the dead,
      and to life in the world to come. Amen.

The Nicene Creed (325-381 A.D.) provides a fuller explanation of the Christian faith. It is called Nicene because a general council of the church, similar to Vatican II held in the 1960s, met in the city of Nicaea in Asia Minor. The Council was called to deal with the heresy of Arianism, which was a denial of the Trinity. The Nicene Creed goes into more detail than the Apostles' Creed on the Trinity and the person of Jesus.

A final version of the creed was formulated by another Council which met in Constantinople in 381 A.D. The creed is and has been from the start a topic of contention. In 598 a provincial church council meeting in Toledo, Spain, added the "filioque clause" which says that the Holy Spirit proceeded from the Father "and the Son." This added clause was accepted by the Western but not the Eastern church. It became one of the causes of the schism between East and West in 1064 A.D. Today the clause is still proving to be a stumbling block to closer relations with the Eastern Orthodox church. The Nicene Creed is familiar to most churchgoers in liturgical churches, because it is used in the worship service on festivals and certain seasons such as Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter.

The Fathers of the Church used examples to explain the Trinity. They said: Look at a tree if you want to try to understand God. There is the root, the trunk and the fruit. The root is like God the Father, invisible but you know it's there, the trunk is like God the son, sent forth by the Father, visible and tangible, the branches and fruit is like the Holy Spirit. We are connected to Christ through the Spirit dwelling in us and by the power of the Spirit we bear fruit in the world.

Or look at a steam: the water rises from a source, but usually that source is hidden, the source of the stream is like God the Father, the stream which we can see and touch is like God the Son, visible because it flows from the one who sends Him, but the water as it flows into the fields, irrigating the plants and giving them life, allowing them to bring forth a harvest is like the Holy Spirit.

Or look at the light. The light comes from the sun, the source of light, but we see the light most clearly when it pierces through the clouds as a sunbeam. When we are sitting in a room and the light shines in and touches us, we are warmed and can feel the light. So, the sun is like the Father, the beam like the Son and the warmth like the Holy Spirit.

What each of these illustrations has in common is that they are all analogies, God isn't the tree or the stream or the light but like them. All our language about God can only hint at the reality never grasp or contain God in one image.

Gordon Brownville's Symbols of the Holy Spirit tells about the great Norwegian explorer Ronald Amundsen, the first to discover the magnetic meridian of the North Pole and to discover the South Pole. On one of his trips, Amundsen took a homing pigeon with him. When he had finally reached the top of the world, he opened the bird's cage and set it free. Imagine the delight of Amundsen's wife, back in Norway, when she looked up from the doorway of her home and saw the pigeon circling in the sky above. No doubt she exclaimed, "He's alive! My husband is still alive!"

So it was when Jesus ascended. He was gone, but the disciples clung to his promise to send them the Holy Spirit. What joy, then, when the dove-like Holy Spirit descended at Pentecost. The disciples had with them the continual reminder that Jesus was alive and victorious at the right of the Father. This continues to be the Spirit's message.

Walter Elias was born in the city; now his parents had just moved to the country. Walter loved being on the farm because it meant that he spent more time in the land of make-believe.

On this particular day in the middle of summer, Walter Elias decided to go exploring. Living on a farm meant that his parents were very busy and did not seem to mind that he was off playing, using that wonderful imagination of his. He went quite a way from the farmhouse to an apple orchard. When he got close to the orchard, to his absolute amazement, he saw sitting on a branch of one of the apple trees an owl. He just stood there and stared at the owl. He thought about what his father had told him about owls. His father had said that owls always rested during the day because they hunted throughout the night. This owl was definitely asleep. He also thought that this owl might make a great pet. So, he made up his mind that he would try to capture the bird and take it to the farmhouse and turn it into a pet.

Walter Elias began his careful creep toward the owl. He was careful not to make too much noise by stepping on branches or leaves. The owl must have been in a deep sleep because he never heard Walter Elias walking toward it. Finally, Walter was standing right under the owl. He reached up and grabbed the owl by the legs. Immediately, the owl was awakened and came to life. Any thought that Walter might have had of capturing the bird was quickly forgotten. The owl began to fight for its freedom as Walter held on so very tightly, probably because of fear.

The events that followed are difficult to explain. The owl fought violently and was screaming for its life. In his panic, Walter Elias, still holding on to the owl, threw it to the ground and stomped it to death. After things calmed down, Walter looked at the now dead and bloody bird and began to cry. He ran back to the farm and obtained a shovel and went back to the orchard to bury the owl.

Now at night he would dream of that owl. Even as an adult he would never really get over what had happened on that lazy summer day so long ago. Deep down it affected him for the rest of his life. Walter never, ever killed anything again. That seven-year-old boy was transformed by that event and, coupled with his imagination, was later able to turn a personal tragedy into a triumph. Some say that he eventually set all the animals free. For that young boy grew up to become someone you have probably heard of: Walter Elias... Disney.

Radical transformation is what happened to the apostle Paul. He understood better than anyone how a leopard could change its spots. A transforming event happened to him as well on that road to Damascus, an event that would alter his life forever. As a result the world has never been the same either. Because of this one man, whose life was so dramatically changed by the Holy Spirit, the world was able to hear the good news of the gospel.

Adapted by Paul Harvey, More of Paul Harvey's the Rest of the Story (New York City: William Morrow & Company), p. 13.

Forgiveness is part of the action of the Holy Spirit in our lives. More accurately, it is the action of Christ through the Holy Spirit in our midst. By the power of the Spirit, Christ is present both forgiving us and forgiving through us. The Spirit is given to us by Christ himself. He breathed upon the disciples and they received the Holy Spirit.

In one of her books, Corrie Ten Boom tells of meeting the guard from the concentration camp where she and her family had been held by the Nazis. She had been speaking at a large church meeting, and after the meeting he had come forward. He put out his hand to her, and she instinctively pulled back, remembering the horrors to which that hand had been put or in which it had cooperated, but then, she testified, something came over her, she knew not what, and she reached out and grasped his hand and extended her forgiveness as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

There will be those who say this is merely sentimental and who grit their teeth, as they demand more obvious vengeance; I cannot judge them. I only know that to forgive in such a manner is beyond human comprehension; it is the work of God and can only be done by us through the grace of God at work in us. Nor, is it an attitude we Christians carry around with us all the time, like little Mary Sunshines. Corrie Ten Boom received the grace to forgive in the moment the grace was needed, and not before. Our Lord, upon the cross, forgave his executioners while he was being nailed to it; there was no plenary absolution in advance. Forgiveness, like the resurrection, breaks in upon us through shut doors.

We are called and sent to participate in Christ's message of forgiveness because we have been forgiven. "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you." Christ was sent to be the agent of reconciliation, and we are to be such agents in the world. It seems to me a sad fact that forgiveness has been for sale in the church during so much of its history, when it should have been given away.

It was one of the most wonderful and exciting moments in the history of the Christian faith. The Holy Spirit had fallen fresh on the lives of believers. People were filled with the passion and fires of the Holy Ghost. They were shouting joy from all directions. They were gathered from every persuasion and city, every nation and province, all glorifying God, speaking in foreign tongues but understanding each other, expressing different voices but still in one accord. This was the time of Pentecost, when God saw fit to pour out the spirit which spawned the birth of the Christian Church.

Today we need the fervor, fire, tongues, passion, and Spirit of Pentecost. Today the Christian Church needs a rebirth of the spirit, where souls are on fire with the love of Christ, where barriers are broken down and superficial divisions which sequester and divide people are bridged through a unity of the Spirit. Today more than ever the church needs to recapture the fires of Pentecost so that souls can break free from bondage, and healing, deliverance, and the full power of God's anointing can be experienced in every medium and every idiom by people filled with Holy Ghost madness.

Too many churches today are devoid of the Spirit of Pentecost because they are dry, stale, and discordant, where parishioners are in a somnambulist stupor; where worship services are vapid, staid, and wooden; where the preaching is dull, flat, and insipid; where the singing is Geritol-tired and without the vim, verve, and verse which speaks of a crucified, died and risen Lord; where if anyone taps his foot and says, "Amen," he is stared into silence, and if anyone shouts, "Thank you, Jesus," or "Help me, Holy Ghost," parishioners call EMS, the DS or 911! Too many churches have become mausoleums for the dead rather than coliseums of praise for a living God. They have lost the spirit of Pentecost! They have lost their enthusiasm. They have lost their joy for Jesus and find themselves suffering from what William Willimon calls "Institutional and Spiritual Dry Rot." Pentecost marks the beginning of a new spiritual movement in Christ; a movement birthed through the fires of the Holy Spirit; a movement steeped in the spirit of hope, renewal, and spiritual transformation. It is a movement where souls are on fire with the passion of the Holy Spirit and the Church today more than ever needs to recapture that spirit. If the Church is to survive the next millennium it must recapture some of the praise and enthusiasm it had two millennia ago. The spiritual energy and vitality of Pentecost has sustained the Church through two millennia.

There’s a difference between intelligence and wisdom, as illustrated by the old story of the favorite course at the University. The favorite course? A survey of the New Testament. It was a favorite because there was no homework, no reading, and no tests before the final. And on the final, for 25 years, the same professor had always presented the same question: “Describe the Missionary Journeys of Paul.”

A young man by the name of “Meathead,” a star on the school’s football team, took the course. And a tutor helped him prepare, all semester long, for the final exam. When the day of the test came, Meathead was ready. He knew everything about every journey Paul ever took. He knew about Philippi and Thessalonica, Rome and Tyre. He knew about Timothy and Barnabas and Luke. He was ready.

But when the final exam was passed out, students all over that great auditorium were stunned to see a new question. For the first time in a quarter-century, the professor decided to ask a different question. Instead of a question about Paul’s missionary journeys, there was this question: “Critique the Sermon on the Mount that was preached by Jesus.”

The shock was felt across the room. And a young man got up, took his blue book - a little book that was designed to hold his essay - and threw it down on the professor’s desk. It was empty. He didn’t know how to answer the question. And one by one, all of the students left, none of them able to answer the question . . . except for Meathead.

Meathead opened his blue book and began to write. He wrote and he wrote and he wrote. The professor’s assistant came back an hour later, and Meathead was still writing. Two hours later, and Meathead was going at it. For a full three hours, Meathead filled up his blue book.

That afternoon, the professor had two stacks of blue books. On his right, a tall stack of empty blue books, all with the grade of F. On his left, one, single blue book, with a big, bold A+ right on top. It was Meathead’s.

“What in the world did you write about?” Asked a classmate. “Read it,” said Meathead. And on the first page was the opening sentence. “Who am I to criticize the Sermon on the Mount? Instead, let me tell you about the missionary journeys of Paul.”

How can sin be rendered powerless, as Paul says in Romans 6:6? Consider the effect of gravity on a book. Gravity would cause an unsupported book to fall, but gravity can be rendered “powerless” against the book by simply placing a table under it. As long as the table is under the book, gravity cannot cause it to fall. Of course gravity has not really lost its power nor is it no longer present. It is just that the table is “stronger” than gravity’s effect on the book.

For the Christian, the Holy Spirit is like that table and our sin nature is like gravity’s pull. As long as we allow the Holy Spirit to hold us up, which places our dependence on his power to give us victory over sin, our sinful impulses have no power to pull us down.

Paul considered himself Christ's ambassador. What is an ambassador? He is an authorized representative of a sovereign. He speaks not in his own name but on behalf of the ruler whose deputy he is, and his whole duty and responsibility is to interpret that ruler's mind faithfully to those to whom he is sent.

Paul used this "ambassador" image twice both in connection with his evangelistic work. Pray for me, he wrote from prison, "that utterance may be given me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains; that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak" (Eph. 6:18-20). He wrote also that God "gave us the ministry of reconciliation...So we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We beseech you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Corinthians 5:18-20).

Paul called himself an ambassador because he knew that when he proclaimed the gospel facts and promises and urged sinners to receive the reconciliation effected at Calvary, he was declaring Christ's message to the world. The figure of ambassadorship highlights the authority Paul had, as representing his Lord, as long as he remained faithful to the terms of his commission and said neither less nor more than he had been given to say.

Evangelist Paul Rader had many a talk with a banker in New York. The banker would reply that he was too busy for religion. Time passed and the banker, seriously overworked, was sent to a sanatorium for complete rest. One day God spoke to Paul Rader; the message was clear: "Go and speak to ..." Rader obeyed, catching a train and going with all speed to the sumptuous sanatorium.

Arriving at the facility, Rader saw the banker standing in the doorway. "Oh, Rader," said the banker, "I am so glad to see you."

"I received your telegram," said Rader.

"That's impossible," said the banker. "I wrote a telegram begging you to come, but I tore it up. I didn't sent it."

"That may be," said Rader, "but your message came by way of Heaven."

Paul Rader found his friend under deep conviction of sin and he pointed him to Christ as a perfect Savior. That man accepted Christ and his heart was filled with joy. "Rader," he said, "did you ever see the sky so blue or the grass so green?"

Rader replied, "Sometimes we sing"

'Heaven above is softer blue,
Earth around is sweeter green;
Something lives in every hue
Christ-less eyes have never seen.'"

Suddenly the banker leaned against Paul Rader and fell into his arms, dead.

What is fruit? Actually the question ought to be phrased in the plural: What are fruits which a Christian can bear? The N.T. gives several answers to the question.

ONE, a developing Christian character is fruit. If the goal of the Christian life may be stated as Christlikeness, then surely every trait developed in us that reflects His character must be fruit that is very pleasing to Him. Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit in nine terms in Galatians 5:22-23, and Peter urges the development of seven accompaniments to faith in order that we might be fruitful (2 Peter 1:5-8). Two of these terms are common to both lists: love and self-control. The others are joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, virtue, knowledge, endurance, piety, and brotherly love. To show these character traits is to bear fruit in one's life.

TWO, right character will result in right conduct, and as we live a life of good works we produce fruit (Colossians 1:10). This goes hand in hand with increasing in the knowledge of God, for as we learn what pleases Him, our fruitful works become more and more conformed to that knowledge. When Paul expressed how torn he was between the two possibilities of either dying and being with Christ or living on in this life, he said that living on would mean fruitful labor or work (Philippians 1:22). This phrase could mean that (1) his work itself was fruit, or (2) fruit would result from his work. In either case, his life and work were fruit. So may ours be.

THREE, those who come to Christ through our witness are fruit. Paul longed to go to Rome to have some fruit from his ministry there (Romans 1:13), and he characterized the conversion of the household of Stephanas as the first fruits of Achaia (I Corinthians 16:15).

FOUR, we may also bear fruit with our lips by giving praise to God and thankfully confessing His name (Hebrews 13:15). In other words, our lips bear fruit when we offer thankful acknowledgement to the name of God. And this is something we should do continually.

FIVE, we bear fruit when we give money. Paul designated the collection of money for the poorer saints in Jerusalem as fruit (Romans 15:28). Too, when he thanked the Philippians for their financial support of his ministry, he said that their act of giving brought fruit to their account (Philippians 4:17, KJV).

How many of us are in the process of developing ulcers? How many of us are carrying resentments? How much damage is being done internally because we will not forgive someone who hurt us deeply? How much of our daily life is being colored grey by an angry mind quarreling in fantasy bouts with an adversary, an ex-husband, an ex-wife, a relative, a neighbor, a fellow worker, or even a fellow parishioner? Who are suffering from high blood pressure or even heart problems because they have not forgiven completely?

In the face of all of this, we consider the love chapter in the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13, for some very good advice. Saint Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, writes, "Love is not irritable or resentful ..."

Snow is hardly news in many parts of our nation. After a blizzard, it takes a snowplow to tackle the snowdrifts and help us become mobile again. Resentments are like snowdrifts, and forgiveness is the snowplow. In the Christian life forgiveness is a snowplow that opens roads again, removing barriers so that we can communicate and listen to those with whom we had been at odds.

When a person offends us, we feel like punching him out. Many a child has done just that on the way home from school at a predetermined spot. Those of us who are mature are more sophisticated but no less harmful as we unleash a lethal tongue, or verbally stab people behind their backs. God reminds us in the epistle that love is not resentful.

Our Lord Jesus Christ gave us some pretty tough advice while he was alive. On the subject we are considering, he says, "But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." Jesus states that the mere fact that we have been wronged does not give us the license to do wrong. Followers of Jesus are not to retaliate but must even be willing to suffer the same injury again. Cheek-turning power is no easy matter. It is perhaps as powerful a weapon as there is toward maintaining and even improving most human relationships. When I have been wise enough to use it, I can tell you firsthand that it works.

Love is the language of forgiveness. Love does not resent, it forgives. Cheek-turning love is Christian love in action. On our own, we seldom have the power to turn the other cheek. Such power is only possible when Jesus Christ lives within us. It comes when we practice the presence of God, inviting Jesus’ indwelling through prayer. Then as we partake of his body and blood, we not only receive forgiveness for ourselves, but we also receive the powerful presence of Jesus Christ: a presence that can cause a cheek to turn and a life of loving forgiveness to plow through snowdrifts of resentment.

You and I, my dear friends, are on our way somewhere - and I do not mean out to lunch after church or to a party next Thursday.

A small boy, with his father, was in an elevator going up in the Empire State Building in New York. As they flashed by the sixty-second floor, the lad, in considerable anxiety, seized his father's hand, and in an awestruck whisper, said, "Does God know we are coming?"

An amusing story; but there's an answer to his question. Yes, God knows we are coming! He knows we are coming to stand before him; he knows we are on our way; he knows how far we've come, all the paths we've taken; he knows how far we have yet to go.

God also knows precisely how difficult the road is, how dim the road signs sometimes are - and he is doing a lot of things to help us along the way. He has given us the Bible and has invited us to consult with him in prayer. And he has given us our sabbath, the Lord's Day, as a time of recovering strength and finding guidance for the journey that is ahead.

Yes, God knows we are coming; he wants us to arrive safely, and to have a pleasant journey. And he is doing so much to help us along our way. Our engagement in worship here today is a grateful acceptance of this assist which God has provided to boost us along.

Do you remember the 60's song by Simon and Garfunkel song which had the line, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you. What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? Joltin' Joe has left and gone away." Originally it was part of the soundtrack for the film The Graduate, the song "Mrs. Robinson" has became one of the 1960s' best-known, iconic ballads.

But in a 60 Minutes interview Paul Simon mentioned that some time after the song was released, he received a letter from Joe DiMaggio in which DiMaggio expressed his befuddlement at what in the world that song could mean. DiMaggio wrote, "What do you mean 'Where have I gone?' I haven't gone anywhere! I'm still around I'm selling Mr. Coffee." Then Mr. Simon smiled wryly at Mike Wallace and remarked, "Obviously Mr. DiMaggio is not accustomed to thinking of himself as a metaphor!"

But then, who is? Most, if not all, of us see ourselves as real people with literal, descriptive identities. For instance, I am a pastor, a husband, a father, a committee member, a volunteer, a son these are all straightforward descriptions of who I am in relation to the people around me in life. Like most people, I cannot readily conceive of myself as a symbol for something, as a kind of metaphor that represents something beyond myself.

Indeed, if someone came up to you at a party and said, "You are my shelter from the storms of life," well, you'd be taken aback. Then again, if you met someone who constantly spouted self-referential metaphors, you'd have to wonder about him or her. We expect people to denote themselves by saying things like, "I am a plumber" or "I'm a stay-at-home Dad." But our eyes would widen if someone said, "I am the oil that lubes my company's machine" or "I am the antibody that shields my family from the virus of secularism."

This is not a terribly typical mode of discourse. Yet Jesus, with some frequency, did refer to himself in a metaphorical mode, starting with John 6:35 when Jesus said, "I am the Bread of life."