Along the shoreline in California it is a common sight to see - whales stopping alongside rocks as they migrate from Alaska to Mexico to scrape off barnacles. In our lifetime we also will pick up a collection of personal barnacles that will attach themselves like parasites sapping the life out of us. They must be scraped off.

How did Job do it? The same way we can do it through faith. Faith is the only thing that can heal the hurts. Job scraped the barnacles off. It was painful! The scars would remain but his life was put back together. Strong belief in God was the medicine. His wife and his friends could not do it only God could! Job said, "I know that thou canst do every thing, and that no thought can be withholden from Thee." Job 42:2.

Another set of "money-changers" in the church seem to have lost their reason for forgiveness. Catholic priests have expressed concern over the sharp decline in the number of people desiring to take confession. We hear a lot of talk about the word celebration in our church today. There can be no celebration until there is first confession. In the parable of the prodigal son, the banquet does not occur until the boy had first come to himself.

A Sunday School class in a church once made an unusual request one day. They requested that the prayer of confession be taken out of the order of worship. They gave the following reasons:

1. Confessions imply that we are bad people.
2. Our children will get a negative image of themselves.
3. Guilt is damaging; we need to think positively.
4. Worship should always be uplifting and make us feel good.

This sounds like the philosophy advocated by that book some years ago "I'm OK you're OK." Tell me then. If I'm OK and you're OK then what are we doing here? The refusal to acknowledge that we are sinful people is damaging the church today, and it is damage that is coming from within, not from without. We have bought in to the modern culture that we should have a positive self-image through positive thinking. Friends, sin is real, and it is too destructive to ignore. The cross reminds us just how serious our sin is. The failure to express our sin before God and one another devalues God's redemptive grace. It is not positive thinking that will remove our guilt; it is God's redemptive action.

There is nothing that so takes the joy out of life like unconfessed sin on the conscience.

I once heard the late Dr. F.E. Marsh tell that on one occasion he was preaching on this question and urging upon his hearers the importance of confession of sin and wherever possible of restitution for wrong done to others.

At the close a young man, a member of the church, came up to him with a troubled countenance. "Pastor," he explained, "you have put me in a sad fix. I have wronged another and I am ashamed to confess it or to try to put it right. You see, I am a boat builder and the man I work for is an infidel. I have talked to him often about his need of Christ and urged him to come and hear you preach, but he scoffs and ridicules it all. Now, I have been guilty of something that, if I should acknowledge it to him, will ruin my testimony forever."

He then went on to say that sometime ago he started to build a boat for himself in his own yard. In this work copper nails are used because they do not rust in the water. These nails are quite expensive and the young man had been carrying home quantities of them to use on the job. He knew it was stealing, but he tried to salve his conscience be telling himself that the master had so many he would never miss them and besides he was not being paid all that he thought he deserved. But this sermon had brought him to face the fact that he was just a common thief, for whose dishonest actions there was no excuse.

"But," he said, "I cannot go to my boss and tell him what I have done or offer to pay for those I have used and return the rest. If I do he will think I am just a hypocrite. And yet those copper nails are digging into my conscience and I know I will not have peace until I put this matter right."

For weeks the struggle went on. Then one night he came to Dr. Marsh and exclaimed, "Pastor, I've settled for the copper nails and my conscience is relieved at last."

"What happened when you confessed to your employer what you had done?" asked the pastor.

"Oh," he answered, "he looked queerly at me, then exclaimed, 'George, I always did think you were just a hypocrite, but now I begin to feel there's something in this Christianity after all. Any religion that would make a dishonest workman come back and confess that he had been stealing copper nails and offer to settle for them, must be worth having.'"

Dr. Marsh asked if he might use the story, and was granted permission.

Sometime afterwards, he told it in another city. The next day a lady came up and said, "Doctor, I have had 'copper nails' on my conscience too." "Surely, you're not a boat builder!" "No, but I am a book-lover and I have stolen a number of books from a friend of mine who gets far more that I could ever afford. I decided last night I must get rid of the 'copper nails,' so I took them all back to her today and confessed my sin. I can't tell you how relieved I am. She forgave me, and God has forgiven me. I am so thankful the 'copper mails' are not digging into my conscience anymore."

I have told this story many times and almost invariably people have come to me afterwards telling of "copper nails" in one form or another that they had to get rid of. On one occasion, I told it at a High School chapel service. The next day the principal saw me and said, "As a result of that 'copper nails' story, ever so many stolen fountain pens and other things have been returned to their rightful owners."

Reformation and restitution do not save. But where one is truly repentant and has come to God in sincere confession, he will want to the best of his ability to put things right with others.

"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!"

In Loving God, Charles Colson tells of a quiet act of forgiveness that began a chain of events that still survives. Deep in one of Siberia's prison camps a Jew by the name of Dr. Boris Kornfeld was imprisoned. As a medical doctor he worked in surgery and otherwise helped both the staff and the prisoners. He met a Christian, whose name is unknown, whose quiet faith and his frequent reciting of the Lord's Prayer moved Dr. Kornfeld.

One day, while repairing a guard's artery which had been cut in a knifing, he seriously considered suturing it in such a way that he would bleed to death a little while later. Then, appalled by the hatred and violence he saw in his own heart, he found himself repeating the words of the nameless prisoner: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us."Shortly after that prayer Dr. Kornfeld began to refuse to go along with some of the standard practices of the prison camp, including one day turning in an orderly who had stolen food from a dying patient. After that he knew his life was in danger, so he began to spend as much time as possible in the relative safety of the hospital.

One afternoon he examined a patient who had just been operated on for cancer of the intestines, a man whose eyes and face reflected a depth of spiritual misery and emptiness that moved Kornfeld. So the doctor began to talk to the patient, telling him the entire story, an incredible confession of secret faith.

That night someone snuck in and smashed Dr. Kornfeld's head while he was asleep—he died a few hours later.

But Kornfeld's testimony did not die. For the patient who had heard his confession, became, as a result, a Christian. And he survived that prison camp and went on to tell the world what he had learned there. The patient was the great writer—Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

Which of the following aren't in the Bible?

• Cleanliness is next to godliness
• God helps those who help themselves
• Confession is good for the soul
• We are as prone to sin as sparks fly upward
• Money is the root of all evil
• Honesty is the best policy

None of them are!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am the Church. Most of you associate me with steeples and stained glass windows. And in one sense, you are right. One of the ways I can be described is by my individual architectural style. I am usually constructed with the finest materials, and my cost per square foot is often quite high. I think this is appropriate because I make a visible statement to the world about the feelings of my members towards the Lord. I am a visible witness to the community. When I am allowed to look run-down, my appearance reflects how you feel about me.

Although many folks see me mainly as a building, this is only a small part of my personality. For the most part, I am people, people like you who are reading this message. I am the people of God who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and are baptized. Each believer is part of me ... a little me, a little church. In the same way that the building part of me gives an image to the community, the people part of who I am makes a statement to the community also. We reflect God’s importance and love to the community we serve.

Because of the inability to understand clearly what God teaches in the Bible about what we should believe and how we should be in ministry, there are many denominations that make me up. This hurts me. It hurts me because God wants us all to be one. It hurts me because the non-believing world looks at our division and finds fault with us. This makes it harder for them to become one of us. It hurts me because we are also weakened through division. I am the Church, and for my sake, I hope each of you will pray that there will be greater understanding, acceptance, working together, and unity among all Christians.

There is another most important thing that I want to talk about. My cornerstone must always be the Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus said to the apostle Peter that his confession of faith in him was the strong foundation upon which the church must be built. When it is built on Jesus, not even the gates of hell can destroy it. Don’t forget your cornerstone. This is another way of my telling you not to forget your central purpose for being the church. I am the Church and my central, most important function is to share with my members and the world that God is in love with all people and desires their salvation. This can only happen when people recognize their sinfulness, repent, and receive Jesus Christ as the cornerstone of their personal lives. When this happens, God looks at them and no longer sees their sin but rather sees his Son, their Savior.

I challenge each of you to seek the help of God to expand in your love for him and for one another. I challenge you to expand in your willingness to listen to one another, to accept one another, to forgive one another. I challenge you to expand your involvement with other churches and the world-wide ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ. Finally, I challenge you to expand your efforts in sharing with each other and with your community the message of God’s love through Jesus Christ. This message is the Rock upon which I am built.

Martin Luther was one who struggled with his sins. Before his break with the Catholic church he went to confession every day and was so guilt-ridden by his sins he would almost have gone every hour.

On most nights Luther slept well, but he even felt guilty about that, thinking, Here am I, sinful as I am, having a good night's sleep. So he would confess that. One day the older priest to whom Luther went for confession said to him, "Martin, either find a new sin and commit it, or quit coming to see me!"

A lady in the north of England said that every time she got down before God to pray, five bottles of wine came up before her mind. She had taken them wrongfully one time when she was a housekeeper, and had not been able to pray since. She was advised to make restitution.

"But the person is dead," she said.

"Are not some of the heirs living?"

"Yes, a son."

"Then go to that son and pay him back."

"Well," she said, "I want to see the face of God, but I could not think of doing a thing like that. My reputation is at stake." She went away, and came back the next day to ask if it would not do just as well to put that money in the treasury of the Lord.

"No," she was told, "God doesn't want any stolen money. The only thing is to make restitution."

She carried that burden for several days, but finally went into the country, saw that son, made a full confession and offered him a five-pound note. He said he didn't want the money, but she finally persuaded him to take it, and came back with a joy and peace that made her face radiant. She became a magnificent worker for souls, and led many into the light.

My dear friends, get these stumbling stones out of the way. God does not want a man to shout "Hallelujah" who doesn't pay his debts. Many of our prayer meetings are killed by men trying to pray who cannot pray because their lives are not right. Sin builds up a great wall between us and God. A man may stand high in the community and may be a member of some church "in good standing," but the question is, how does he stand in the sight of God? If there is anything wrong in your life, make it right.

G. K. Chesterton in his autobiography wrote about the effect of forgiveness, of the absolution. He was referring to the words of absolution spoken by the presiding minister after a confession of sin: "I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." Somewhat freely paraphrased, this is what Chesterton said: Forgiven Christians "do truly, by definition, step out again into that dawn of their own beginning ... God has really remade them in his own image. They are now, each one of them, a new experiment as they were when they were really only five years old. They stand in the white light at the worthy beginning of a new life. The accumulations of time [of previous sinning] can no longer terrify. They may be grey and gouty; but they are only five minutes old."

Back on January 3rd 2010, the Mars rover named "Spirit" began its sixth year of diligent exploration (Spirit landed on January 3, 2004). It had been sending back so many photographs that NASA figured out a way to teach the little rover how to detect changes in images, so that it sends only images back to Earth with new information.  For example, if Rover was taking photographs of dust devils, it now pauses and waits until the image changes before taking the next photo. This meant less work for the scientists sifting through the many, many amazing photographs ‘Spirit' sent home. What a great name for such a small machine. It made great discovery. We need that kind of spirit in our world.

I don't know if you saw pictures of the rover back then; it's about the size of a small coffee table. A lot of NASA's hopes were riding on this little robot. And it delivered, beyond everyone's expectations. There's something to be said about the big influence of small things.

It reminds me of the Scottish minister who told his congregation about dreaming he had died. When he came to the pearly gates, to his dismay, he would be denied entrance until he presented his credentials. Proudly the Pastor articulated the number of sermons preached and the prominent pulpits occupied. But Saint Peter said no one had heard them in heaven. The discouraged servant enumerated his community involvement. He was told they were not recorded. Sorrowfully, the pastor turned to leave, when Peter said, "Stay a moment, and tell me, areyou the man who fed the sparrows?"

"Yes,"the Scotsman replied, "but what does that have to do with it?"

"Come in," said Saint Peter, "the Master of the sparrows wants to thank you."

Here is the pertinent, though often overlooked, point: great and prominent positions indicate skill and capacity, but small services suggest the depth of one's consecration. We overlook the big influence of small things.

And so it is with Jesus' Baptism. It's a small thing for Jesus to do. It was not necessary for him to be baptized since there was no sin in his life for which to repent. But he submits to John's Baptism of Repentance anyway. Why? To identify with our sins. He joined in the popular movement of his day. It was a grass roots movement started by a desert monk named John the Baptist. John was calling for the repentance of Israel. Jesus chooses to be baptized because he wants to participate with the people in their desires to be close to God.

It's a small thing Jesus does but what a big influence. It forever marks baptism as the way we Christians publicly declare our repentance and dependence on God's grace.

So the Spirit descends from the heavens, lands on Jesus and sends the following vivid snapshots:

1. In the backdrop all the people are baptized.
2. In the forefront Jesus stands out as the focus of God's love.
3. Baptism is the framework by which ministry begins.

By the grace of God, during my sojourn at seminary, I was assigned by one of my professors (although I didn't consider it a blessing at the time) to read and report on a little book by a German theologian named Oscar Cullmann. The book was entitled Baptism in the New Testament. Now, the writings of German theologians quite often are difficult for me to understand, sometimes because of linguistic problems in the translation, and sometimes just because their logic escapes me. Not so in this circumstance. This little book was a God send. In it, Dr. Cullmann not only acknowledges the difficulty in understanding why Jesus submitted to a baptism of repentance. He also offers a simple explanation for it, one that had for some reason eluded me.

I had dived deeply into the pool of the intellect searching for an answer that was floating in plain view on the surface. Cullmann says, "It was not a baptism of repentance for HIS sin; it was a baptism of repentance for MY sin, and yours. Just as Jesus died on the cross, not for his own sin, but for yours and mine, so also was he baptized in solidarity with, and on behalf of, you and me."

By this act of going to John to be baptized, by this act of joining people who were acknowledging that their lives were totally messed up and empty and uncertain and in need of a fresh start, Jesus publicly demonstrated the meaning of Emmanuel. God is with us; God has come to us; God has joined us in this world, in our human condition, in our human predicament. God understands! God knows what life and death are really like for you and me!

African American poet Langston Hughes questions in one of his poems, "What happens to a dream deferred?…Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?…Or does it explode?" Dreams long squelched by injustice may well explode in anger and rage, but I suspect that, for most of us, the far greater danger is of our dreams drying up like raisins in the sun. Is there any greater tragedy than those whose lives have become little more than mere existence, their dreams long since petrified and forgotten?

John the Baptist was one who would not allow his dream to be shattered. It was a dream of a coming Messiah, the One who would set life aright, the One who would open the way to abundant joy and peace and hope and life. And to keep that dream alive, the Baptist shouted a message of repentance. Biblical repentance is not simply a matter of remorse for past sins and shortcomings; much more, it is a turning around, the taking on of a new set of values, a new perspective towards life, a new way of living. Even more, repentance is a matter of embracing a whole new identity as the people of God, recognizing that something radically new is unfolding and that you and I have significant roles to play as participants in the story.

Four men were chained to trees in the black woods. They were hungry, heartsick, discouraged prisoners.

Then came a traveler. He knew the way to free them. He knew the combination to the locks, which held the chains, and could set the prisoners free.

He set the first man free, and then he went to the second man and freed him. In turn he cared for the third man, but failed to be able to loose the fourth.

The fourth was left in chains with the combination to his lock in doubt.

Many rejoiced at the heroic rescue, but the hero remained unsatisfied that the fourth continued a prisoner.

Why were these men prisoners? Who had chained them? What had brought rescue?

The first man's chains were terror of God, and he sought to deny any religion or any relationship to God. The sins of fear and doubt kept him chained in the forest of hate and ignorance.

The second man's chains were made of race prejudice, and he thought himself superior to those of another color. He was imprisioned in the forest of hate and ignorance.

The third man was chained with a self-righteous attitude, thinking he could do no wrong and needed no mercy to be given to others. He was lost through loneliness and chained in the. forest of hate and ignorance.

The rescuer used God's Word to set the prisoners free. (John 3:16) "For God so loved the world ...--" (Acts 17:24-26) "God has made of one blood all nations of men ...--". (I Corinthians 8:8) "Meat does not commend us to God -- whether we eat it or eat it not."

The fourth kept his chains and home in darkness for he had no faith and would not believe his own brother.

Have you any chains? Are you in a forest?

The primary purpose of the Law is, like a mirror, to teach man the true knowledge of his sin. We see this in the example of the publican. The publicans were tax-collectors for the Roman imperialists. They were Jews, but were not respected by their people. They were considered traitors and thieves, with some justification.

So the publican did not approach God with pride, demanding what was owed him. On the contrary, he approached the Lord with maximum humility and true repentance. Repentance is essential to receive the forgiveness of sins in Christ. That is why the Law should be preached to unrepentant sinners, but the Gospel to those who are troubled by their sins and terrified of damnation.

The Law demands, threatens and condemns; the Gospel promises, gives and confirms our forgiveness and salvation. God offers forgiveness of sins only in the Good News that we are saved because Christ fulfilled the Law, suffered, died and rose from the dead for us. So let us draw near to God in humility and repentance, of course, but also in the hope and faith that we are justified through faith, not by works, and that in Christ we are children of God.

Simon Peter is called into account by the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem to explain why he had made so bold as to eat unclean food in the presence of Gentiles. He explains that while he was in Joppa, a guest in the home of Simon the tanner, he had fallen into a trance and experienced a vision. Before going further, let us make a distinction at two points: 1. Simon the tanner. As the name suggests, Simon tanned hides, an occupation considered by Jews to be unclean, insofar as it involved handling dead things (Leviticus 11:39-40). 2. The vision. While on the rooftop of Simon’s house (11:5) Peter saw a great sheet being let down from heaven containing animals, beasts of prey, and wild birds. A voice instructed him to "rise, kill and eat," but refusing, he said, "No Lord, for nothing common or unclean has ever entered my mouth." But the voice answered, "What God has cleansed you must not call common" (11:9). Notice that Peter did not refer to the food as "unclean," but common, meaning "beneath him." Notice also that Peter is mildy chastized for placing himself above anyone or anything. The supreme point of the vision is found in 10:34: "Truly I perceive that God shows no partiality." It follows then, that if God’s love is inclusive, "to the Gentiles also God has granted repentance unto life" (11:18). Yes, even the Gentiles, those who were outside the concern of the circumcision party in Jesusalem.

Closer to home, what about those who are outside the circle of our concern? Oh, we know about them well enough, but they are not a part of our daily experience, nor are they included in the regular routine of our decision-making. Occasionally, they may receive a polite tip of the hat, but they are included in the host of concerns outside our own family or church circle of concern which we are inclined to consider "unclean" or "common," reluctant to believe that even unto them also "God has granted repentance unto life." One at a time, think about the following: Shall God grant repentance to 1. those in our prisons, 2. Russians, 3. criminals, 4. non-Christians, or even non-Christian religions, 5. persons who exploit us in some manner, 6. ignorant people who could do better but won’t, 7. con-artists? Measure your response well, remembering that it was necessary for Peter to broaden the orbit of his concern.

A retiring old usher, instructing a youthful new replacement in the details of ushering said, "And remember, my boy, we have nothing but good, kind Christians in this church ... until you try to put someone else in their pew." Perhaps the arena for extending the circle of our concern is nearer than we may suppose.

A mother calling to her son shouted, "Johnny, tell your sister to get in the house out of the rain." "I can't mom," came the reply. "And just why can't you?" demanded his mother. "Because we are playing Noah's Ark mom, and she's one of the sinners."

We like to make the distinction between the sinners on the outside of the ark and the saints on the inside, and it is a legitimate distinction. But in so doing, we tend to cover up the reality that the saints inside are still sinners. Sinners saved by grace, but nevertheless, sinners. Noah didn't take much time before he demonstrated that after the Ark had landed.

Failure to be aware of this reality led the Pharisees of Christ's day, and self-righteous saints all through history, to feel that the message of repentance does not apply to them. Repentance is only relevant to those sinners outside the ark. It is a message you can preach at the mission, but it has no place in the sanctuary of the saints. Billy Graham said, "I have been shocked to find that the theme proclaimed so emphatically by the prophets and apostles is scarcely mentioned by contemporary preachers."

We prepare for Christmas by repenting. Repenting in the Biblical sense is more than having a change of heart or a feeling of regret. It is more than a New Year's Eve resolution. Repentance is a turning away and a turning back. A turning away from sin and a turning back to God.

Bishop Joe Pennel of the Virginia Conference of the United Methodist Church, once attended a Christmas worship service in Bethlehem at a place called Shepherd's Field. As he heard the songs of the season, he thought to himself and later wrote: "I did not look to God and say: See how virtuous I am. I did not utter: God, pat me on the back for all of the good things I have done. I did not pretend by saying: God, look at all of my accomplishments, aren't you proud of me? Indeed, I found myself asking God to forgive me of my sins. That is how it works. The more we turn away from Christ the more enslaved we become to the power of sin. The more we turn to Christ, the more free we become from the bondage of sin. Turning toward Christ enables us to repent."

Someone once said half jokingly: If we are not careful, John the Baptist can take all of the fun out of Christmas. I disagree. I think that it is John's message that puts the joy into Christmas. For it is his message that calls us not to the way that Christmas is, but that the way Christmas ought to be. Christmas ought to be free from guilt and self-absorption. For that to occur there must be repentance.

It is not repentance that saves me; repentance is the sign that I realize what God has done in Christ Jesus. The danger is to put the emphasis on the effect instead of on the cause. Is it my obedience that puts me right with God? Never! I am put right with God because prior to all else, Christ died. When I turn to God and by belief accept what God reveals, instantly the stupendous atonement of Jesus Christ rushes me into a right relationship with God. By the miracle of God's grace I stand justified, not because of anything I have done, but because of what Jesus has done. The salvation of God does not stand on human logic; it stands on the sacrificial death of Jesus. Sinful men and women can be changed into new creatures by the marvelous work of God in Christ Jesus, which is prior to all experience.

Man’s wisdom is not enough. It is limited, partial wisdom. T. S. Eliot put it so beautifully when he said in “The Rock”:

All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance,
All our ignorance brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death no nearer to God.

Then he asks the question that hangs over this whole generation:

Where is the Life we have lost in living?

Some years ago, a Scottish minister told his congregation about dreaming he had died. When he came to the pearly gates, to his dismay, he would be denied entrance until he presented his credentials. Proudly the Pastor articulated the number of sermons preached and the prominent pulpits occupied. But Saint Peter said no one had heard them in heaven. The discouraged servant enumerated his community involvement. He was told they were not recorded. Sorrowfully, the pastor turned to leave, when Peter said, "Stay a moment, and tell me, are you the man who fed the sparrows?"

"Yes," the Scotsman replied, "but what does that have to do with it?"

"Come in," said Saint Peter, "the Master of the sparrows wants to thank you."

Here is the pertinent, though often overlooked, point: great and prominent positions indicate skill and capacity, but small services suggest the depth of one's consecration.

And so it is with Jesus' Baptism. He submits to John's baptism of repentance even though he himself was perfect and had no need to repent. Jesus identified with our sins by being baptized. He joined in the popular movement of his day. It was a grass roots movement started by a desert monk named John the Baptist. John was calling for the repentance of Israel. Jesus choose to be baptized because he wanted to participate with the people in their desires to be close to God.

We begin by trusting our ignorance and calling it innocence, and by trusting our innocence and calling it purity. And when we hear these rugged statements of our Lord's (Matthew 15:18), we shrink and say:

"But I never felt any of those awful things in my heart." Either Jesus Christ is the supreme authority on the human heart or He is not worth paying attention to. Am I prepared to trust His judgment or do I prefer to trust my innocent ignorance? As long as I remain under the refuge of innocence, I am living in a fool's paradise. The only thing that safeguards is the redemption found in Jesus Christ. Purity is too deep down for me to get to naturally; but when the Holy Spirit comes in, He brings into the center of my life the very Spirit that was manifested in the life of Jesus Christ the Holy Spirit, who is unsullied purity."

In John Steinbeck's story "The Wayward Bus" a dilapidated old bus takes a cross country shortcut on its journey to Los Angeles, and gets stuck in the mud. While the drivers go for assistance, the passengers take refuge in a cave. It is acurious company of people and it is obvious that the author is attempting to get across the point that these people are lost spiritually as well as literally. As they enter into this cave, the author calls the reader's attention to the fact that as they enter they must pass a word that has been scrawled with paint over the entrance. The word is repent. Although Steinbeck calls that to the reader's attention it is interesting that none of the passengers pay any attention to it whatsoever.

All too often this is our story. Yet, John the Baptist calls upon us to take our sinning seriously. Why? Because God does? Repentance is not just changing our minds, or feeling sorry for something that we have done, or even making bold resolves that we will never participate in certain conduct again. Instead, repentance means to turn around and go in another direction. What John the Baptist wanted his audience to hear was: Turn your life toward this one called Messiah. This is not negative or down-faced. Rather, it breaks the chains of oppression and death that hold us back.

There is an old legend about Judas that after his death Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit. For thousands of years he wept his repentance, and when the tears were finally spent, he looked up and saw way, way up a tiny glimmer of light. After he had contemplated it for another thousand years or so, he began to try to climb up towards the light. The walls of the pit were dark and slimy, and he kept slipping back down. Finally, after great effort, he neared the top and then he slipped and fell all the way back down to the bottom. It took him many years to recover, all the time weeping bitter tears of grief and repentance, and then he started to climb up again. After many more falls and efforts and failures, he reached the top and dragged himself into an upper room with twelve people seated around the table. "We've been waiting for you, Judas," Jesus said. "We couldn't begin till you came."
 
So many people are looking for a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. Would they find what they are seeking here?

A number of years ago a couple traveled to the offices of an Adoption Society in England to receive a baby. They had been on the waiting list a long time. They had been interviewed and carefully scrutinized. Now at last their dreams were to be fulfilled. But their day of happiness was another's pain.

Arriving at the offices of the Society they were led up a flight of stairs to a waiting room. After a few minutes they heard someone else climbing the stairs. It was the young student mother whose baby was to be adopted. She was met by the lady responsible for the adoption arrangements and taken into another room. Our friends heard a muffled conversation and a few minutes later footsteps on the stairs as the young mother left. They heard her convulsive sobbing until the front door of the office was closed. Then, there was silence.

The lady in charge then conducted them next door. In a little crib was a six week old baby boy. On a chair beside it was a brown paper bag containing a change of clothes and two letters. One of these, addressed to the new parents, thanked them for providing a home for her baby and acknowledged that under the terms of the adoption each would never know the other's identity. Then the young mother added one request. Would they allow her little son to read the other letter on his eighteenth birthday? She assured them that she had not included any information about her identity. The couple entrusted that letter to a lawyer and one day the young man will read the message which his mother wrote on the day, when with breaking heart, she parted with him.

I wonder what she wrote? If I had to condense all I feel about life and love into a few precious words what would I say? I would have no time for trivia. I would not be concerned about economics, politics, the weather, the size of house or the type of car. At such a time I would want to dwell on the profundities, on what life was all about and what things were absolutely essential.

John in the desert was in the great tradition of the Hebrew prophets. He was aware that time was running out. In his burning message he had no time for peripheral matters. He was not playing Trivial Pursuit nor was he prepared to splash about in the shallows. Soon the sword of Herod's guard would flash and his tongue would lie silent in the grave. Superficial people came out from Jerusalem to see him. They were intrigued by this strange phenomenon of a wild man preaching repentance. They were fascinated by frivolous things such as his dress, his diet, and his fierce declamatory oratory. They wanted to interview him and then tell all their friends about their remarkable experience. "Who are you?" they asked. His answer was curt: "I am not the Christ." "Are you Elijah?" "No!" "Then who are you?" they persisted. They had their doubts about who he was but his message to their ears was clear: Repent.

There comes a moment when the preacher longs for his hearers to lose sight of everything except his message. "Don't listen to my accent. Don't look at my clothes. Don't comment on my style. Don't search my biographical details for my University pedigree. Just listen to what I am saying. Repent!"

I would like to suggest this morning that Repent was the first component of his message. There are two others. Let's take a look at the first.

1. John's Message Called People to Repentance
2. John Told People to Share.
3. The Third Thrust of John's Message Was to Serve.

A poem of repentance and discipleship:

They cast their nets in Galilee,
just off the hills of brown;
Such happy simple fisher folk,
before the Lord came down,
Before the Lord came down.

Contented, peaceful fishermen,
before they ever knew
The peace of God that filled their hearts
Brimful, and broke them too,
brimful and broke them too.

Young John, who trimmed the flapping sail,
Homeless in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net,
Head down was crucified,
head down was crucified.

The peace of God is no peace,
but strife closed in the sod.
Yet, let us pray for but one thing:
The marvelous peace of God,
the marvelous peace of God.

Augustine was in Milan when God touched his heart and changed his life. He then left his former life of license (he even had an illegitimate son). When he returned home, his former girl friend called to him: “Augustine, Augustine, it is I.” He turned and said: “Yes, but it is not I.” 

Note: This story has been retold and published many times but it is wrongly connected with Augustine. Go here for more. It is a conflation of a fable (which Ambrose retells) and Augustine's conversion story. Here's the fable as retold by Ambrose: Let the man deny himself and be wholly changed, as in the fable they relate of a certain youth, who left his home because of his love for a harlot, and, having subdued his love, returned; then one day meeting his old favorite and not speaking to her, she, being surprised and supposing that he had not recognized her, said, when they met again, “It is I”. “But,” was his answer, “I am not the former I”. (Ambrose, Concerning Repentance, Book II, Ch 10.96). 

In polite society we have not wanted to talk much of demons and the demonic. In our liberal, educated culture, we have believed that sin was due mostly to ignorance and that evil could be eradicated by education. In our psychologically enlightened times we have avoided the more ancient religious and mythological language of devils and evil. We have instead preferred words like repression, impulses, sublimation, drives, complexes, phobias, regression, neuroses, psychoses, manic-depressive, schizophrenic and schizoid -- to name a few.

If we have been suspicious of religious healers and exorcists and spiritual counselors, we have been implicitly trustful of psychiatrists, psychologists, psychoanalysts, counselors and therapy groups. If we have been doubtful of prayer, meditation and conversion, we have been trustful of amphetamines, barbiturates and tranquilizers, not to mention alcohol, cocaine, and marijuana. If in our time witch doctors have disappeared, strangely enough witches have reappeared by the thousands. Even exorcists are making a small comeback after considerable media exposure and hype.

Whether demons and the demonic are widely acknowledged in our time may be debated, but that they were common in Jesus' time we can have no doubt. In his time, when most illness was attributable to sin, it was but a short step to attribute all mental illness or epilepsy to demonic powers actually residing in the person and controlling him or her. Thus to cure a person of seizures or dementia or schizophrenia or melancholia, the healer had to have power not only to name the demon, but power to cast him out, to throw him out of the person's life.

In polite society we have not wanted to talk much of demons and the demonic. In our liberal, educated culture, we have believed that sin was due mostly to ignorance and that evil could be eradicated by education. In our psychologically enlightened times we have avoided the more ancient religious and mythological language of devils and evil. We have instead preferred words like repression, impulses, sublimation, drives, complexes, phobias, regression, neuroses, psychoses, manic-depressive, schizophrenic and schizoid to name a few.

If we have been suspicious of religious healers and exorcists and spiritual counselors, we have been implicitly trustful of psychiatrists, psychologists, psychoanalysts, counselors and therapy groups. If we have been doubtful of prayer, meditation and conversion, we have been trustful of amphetamines, barbiturates and tranquilizers, not to mention alcohol, cocaine, and marijuana. If in our time witch doctors have disappeared, strangely enough witches have reappeared by the thousands.

Whether demons and the demonic are widely acknowledged in our time may be debated, but that they were common in Jesus' time we can have no doubt. In his time, when most illness was attributable to sin, it was but a short step to attribute all mental illness or epilepsy to demonic powers actually residing in the person and controlling him or her. Thus to cure a person of seizures or dementia or schizophrenia or melancholia, the healer had to have power not only to name the demon, but power to cast him out, to throw him out of the person's life.

Our primary focus will be upon the divine Sonship of Jesus of Nazareth. Notice that we say Jesus of "Nazareth" here instead of Jesus "Christ." Prior to the events which we shall take up, Jesus had been identified simply as "the Nazarene," "the carpenter," or "the carpenter’s son." Following two specific events, his identity is enlarged upon to include "divine Sonship." What happened? There was a baptism and a transfiguration.

Baptism. The practice of baptism was not the peculiar invention of Christianity. Other religions, in fact, political systems, had long observed a form of "washing" or "sprinkling with water" as an initiatory act of accepting "outsiders" into their fellowship. John’s baptism, insofar as it was the "baptism of repentance" (Mark 1:4), was distinguished from the others. He proclaimed that one mightier than himself soon would come whose baptism was still yet different than his: "I indeed have baptized you with water; but he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost" (Mark 1:8). The difference is further realized in that there is no record of Jesus ever having baptized anyone with water. However, Jesus of Nazareth submitted himself for John’s water baptism in order to 1. identify himself with John’s message, 2. receive the public blessing of God through a symbolic act that all would understand, and 3. certify his divine Sonship. "And it came to pass in those days that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in the Jordan ... and there came a voice from heaven, saying, ‘Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’ " (Mark 1:9-11).

Transfiguration. Six days following the baptism, Jesus took Peter, James, and John and withdrew to the top of a mountain, possibly Mount Hermon. There, he was "transfigured;" that is to say, in a moment of spiritual union with God the Father, his countenance was transformed. Even his garments became glistening, intensely white (Mark 9:3), and Moses appeared with Elijah to speak with him. A cloud, long identified with the presence of God, i.e., "firey, cloudly pillar," overshadowed them, and a voice spoke from the cloud; "This is my beloved son; listen to him" (Mark 9:7). Dramatically, the carpenter’s son was now understood to be the "Son of God."

There is also one other noteworthy reference in our selected scripture. In Mark 9:5, James, Peter, and John wanted to erect three booths (or tabernacles) on a sacred spot and remain there in the afterglow. Moses had been tempted to do the same thing following his own mountaintop experience. However, it has always happened, it seems, that following high moments on a "mountain top," there is work to do in the valleys. To formalize a religious experience and not share it with others, or to interpret it through our lives, is to miss the point of the experience itself. Peter, James, and John built no shrine; they became living messages of the one to whom they said, "Truly, you are the Son of God" (Matthew 14:33).

All four gospels talk about John the Baptist and his fiery message of repentance. Two of the four gospels do not mention Jesus' birth at all. But Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all recognized that no gospel would be complete without John the Baptist. A gospel may skip Christmas but it may not skip John. Why? Because as Zechariah knew already when John was just eight days old, John was going to be the necessary advance man to get the world ready to receive Jesus. If Jesus was the one who would plant the mustard seed of the kingdom into the soil of this world, then John was to be the one who did the hard work of plowing the soil to get ready for that planting. John would be the one who would sink down his plow blade into human hearts that were the spiritual equivalent of a parched field whose dirt had long ago hardened into something resembling concrete.

If Jesus was God's divine Visitor to this world, then John was the one who was sent to prepare the way. Because God knew and John the Baptist knew: how the visit of God's Son would be received would very much depend on people's situation. If they were eager to hear the good news that God's tender mercies were available to forgive their sins, then they'd be glad to hear just that message from the lips of Jesus. But if people didn't think they had a problem with sin, then the visit of God's Son would be merely annoying and a waste of their time. John worked overtime to ensure that no one had that reaction.

Many in our day seem to be afflicted with that terrible disease known as Cirrhosis of the Giver. This terrible malady renders the afflicted person’s hand incapable of moving from the wallet to the offering plate. The only known cure is to remove the sufferer from the Lord’s house, where the condition seems able to cure itself. This is seen in the fact that the sufferer is more than willing and able to spend money at restaurants and in activities which he/she enjoys.

There is a story told of one of Verdi's operas. The composer was young and this particular work had been produced in a hurry. Verdi knew that it was not his best. It was produced for the first time in Florence and at the end the enthusiastic yet undiscriminating audience went into quite unwarranted raptures and cheered the composer. The cheers echoed down the halls of the theatre. But Verdi paid little heed.

He had eyes for only one man. He looked to the box where this one man sat. All the plaudits of the crowd would not compensate for the lack of this man's approval. The man was Rossini and he was not smiling.

Much is wrong with our society. We can all make a list: broken homes, the increase in violence and dishonesty, the lack of integrity in public life, the slow slide of the church into adopting the ways of the world, the decay of sexual morality. Who is willing to be the watchman who sounds the alarm? Who will call us back to God in repentance? It will not be a popular task.

This Advent we salute the forerunner who prepared the way by challenging the people's sins. He was not after the popular vote. He had eyes only for God. Are we ready to share his work and mission?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The new minister was asked to teach a boys' class in the absence of the regular teacher. He decided to see what they knew, so he asked who knocked down the walls of Jericho. All the boys denied having done it, and the preacher was appalled by their ignorance. At the next deacons' meeting he told about the experience. "Not one of them knows who knocked down the walls of Jericho," he lamented. The group was silent until finally one seasoned veteran of disputes spoke up. "Preacher, this appears to be bothering you a lot. But I've known all those boys since they were born and they're good boys. If they said they didn't know, I believe them. Let's just take some money out of the repair and maintenance fund, fix the walls, and let it go at that."

The Romans sometimes compelled a captive to be joined face-to-face with a dead body, and to bear it about until the horrible effluvia destroyed the life of the living victim. Virgil describes this cruel punishment:

The living and the dead at his command
Were coupled face to face, and hand to hand;
Till choked with stench, in loathed embraces tied,
The lingering wretches pined away and died.

Without Christ, we are shackled to the dead corpse of our sinfulness. Only repentance frees us from certain death, for life and death cannot coexist indefinitely.

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

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

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

"When are you going to get your new bike, Johnny?" said Larry.

"I don't know if I will ever get it now," said John.

"What's the matter? Won't your father give it to you?" inquired his friend.

"We're not talking to each other. I'm mad at him," said John. "I've got money in the bank, but I don't know how to get it out."

"You'd better make up with your father," said Larry. "It's foolish to be angry with him. You just can't win that way."

It is true most people have money in the spiritual bank account. A great inheritance sufficient to supply all of their needs and all of their wants.

Some don't know how to get the money out of the bank and some are too stubborn to communicate with their Heavenly Father. They are offended by their own narrowness, stubbornness, and ignorance. These are reasons why people fail to accept their religious heritage; short-changing themselves in the joys of living.

They miss out on friendships and thrilling experiences. They are never quite ready to admit that they don't know how to pray and don't know how to communicate with God. So they tell their friends they are offended with the Church, the preacher, the religion or with God and continue in their unfulfilled dreams.

It is more than a pity -- it is human tragedy to live and not live, to desire love and not obtain it and to ignore the presence of God's love, when it is the answer to human suffering.

Shortly after the turn of the century, Japan invaded, conquered, and occupied Korea. Of all of their oppressors, Japan was the most ruthless. They overwhelmed the Koreans with a brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. Their crimes against women and children were inhuman. Many Koreans live today with the physical and emotional scars from the Japanese occupation.

One group singled out for concentrated oppression was the Christians. When the Japanese army overpowered Korea one of the first things they did was board up the evangelical churches and eject most foreign missionaries. It has always fascinated me how people fail to learn from history. Conquering nations have consistently felt that shutting up churches would shut down Christianity. It didn't work in Rome when the church was established, and it hasn't worked since. Yet somehow the Japanese thought they would have a different success record.

The conquerors started by refusing to allow churches to meet and jailing many of the key Christian spokesmen. The oppression intensified as the Japanese military increased its profile in the South Pacific. The "Land of the Rising Sum" spread its influence through a reign of savage brutality. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed and kindled hatred deep in their souls.

One pastor persistently entreated his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services. His nagging was finally accommodated, and the police chief offered to unlock his church ... for one meeting. It didn't take long for word to travel. Committed Christians starving for an opportunity for unhindered worship quickly made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday, Korean families throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes of their Japanese captors, but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression and shut in a burning spirit anxious to glorify their Lord.

The Korean church has always had a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. For a handful of peasants listening nearby, the last two songs this congregation sang seemed suspended in time. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee" that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors, but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited. Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on the interior walls. There was an immediate rush for the windows. But momentary hope recoiled in horror as the men climbing out the windows came crashing back in their bodies ripped by a hail of bullets.

The good pastor knew it was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence, he led his congregation in a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving salutation to heaven. The first few words were all the prompting the terrified worshipers needed. With smoke burning their eyes, they instantly joined as one to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the horrified and helpless witnesses outside. Their words also tugged at the hearts of the cruel men who oversaw this flaming execution of the innocent.

Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
and did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that sacred head
for such a worm as I?
Just before the roof collapsed they sang the last verse,
their words an eternal testimony to their faith.
But drops of grief can ne'er repay
the debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away
'Tis all that I can do!
At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day.

The strains of music and wails of children were lost in a roar of flames. The elements that once formed bone and flesh mixed with the smoke and dissipated into the air. The bodies that once housed life fused with the charred rubble of a building that once housed a church. But the souls who left singing finished their chorus in the throne room of God. Clearing the incinerated remains was the easy part. Erasing the hate would take decades. For some of the relatives of the victims, this carnage was too much. Evil had stooped to a new low, and there seemed to be no way to curb their bitter loathing of the Japanese.

In the decades that followed, that bitterness was passed on to a new generation. The Japanese, although conquered, remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died, but stood as a mute reminder of their pain.

Inner rest? How could rest coexist with a bitterness deep as marrow in the bones? Suffering, of course, is a part of life. People hurt people. Almost all of us have experienced it at some time. Maybe you felt it when you came home to find that your spouse had abandoned you, or when your integrity was destroyed by a series of well-timed lies, or when your company was bled dry by a partner. It kills you inside. Bitterness clamps down on your soul like iron shackles.

The Korean people who found it too hard to forgive could not enjoy the "peace that passes all understanding." Hatred choked their joy.

It wasn't until 1972 that any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished, they were overcome with shame. Their country had sinned, and even though none of them were personally involved (some were not even born at the time of the tragedy), they still felt a national guilt that could not be excused. They returned to Japan committed to right a wrong. There was an immediate outpouring of love from their fellow believers. They raised ten million yen ($25,000). The money was transferred through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on the sight of the tragedy. When the dedication service for the new building was held, a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests.

Although their generosity was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated, the memories were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts fresh. The Koreans' bitterness had festered for decades. Christian brothers or not, these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy. The speeches were made, the details of the tragedy recalled, and the names of the dead honored. It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same two songs that were sung the day the church was burned.  The song leader began the words to "Nearer My God to Thee."

But something remarkable happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the past mixed with the truth of the song, resistance started to melt. The inspiration that gave hope to a doomed collection of churchgoers in a past generation gave hope once more. The song leader closed the service with the hymn "At the Cross." The normally stoic Japanese could not contain themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly gushed from deep inside. They turned to their Korean spiritual relatives and begged them to forgive. The guarded, calloused hearts of the Koreans were not quick to surrender. But the love of the Japanese believers not intimidated by decades of hatred tore at the Koreans' emotions.

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away ...

One Korean turned toward a Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of forgiveness intermingled to bathe the site of an old nightmare. Heaven had sent the gift of reconciliation to a little white church in Korea.

This passage (4:1—11) is often appointed by lectionaries for the first Sunday of Lent. The presumption is that the narrative is of direct relevance for Christians as they enter a period of penitence. Ordinary Christians are unlikely to perceive it so, and with good cause. The story does not correspond with our experience; we do not hold conversations with a visible devil, nor are we whisked from place to place as Jesus is in the story. Moreover, the temptations that Jesus faces are peculiar to him; they seem very remote from those we face day by day. This passage may in fact prompt some to doubt the validity of Hebrews 4:15: "For we have not a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." What did Jesus know of the temptations that are faced daily by the recovering alcoholic and substance abuser? the lonely divorcee? the struggling business owner? the teenager who covets peer acceptance above all?

There is, however, a common denominator that links all of these with the temptation as ascribed to Jesus. The basic, underlying temptation that Jesus shared with us is the temptation to treat God as less than God. We may not be tempted to turn stones into bread (we are more apt to turn butter into guns, but we are constantly tempted to mistrust God's readiness to empower us to face our trials. None of us is likely to put God to the test by leaping from a cliff, but we are frequently tempted to question God's helpfulness when things go awry; we forget the sure promise, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (II Corinthians 12:9). Pagan idolatry is no more a temptation for us than it was for Jesus, but compromise with the ways of the world is a continuing seduction. It is indeed difficult for us to worship and serve God only. We should be continually grateful that we have a great high priest who, tempted as we are, was able to resist all such temptations by laying hold of Scripture and firmly acknowledging that only God is God.

Robert Jastrow, a scientist who calls himself “agnostic” in religious matters, has written in God and the Astronomers (New York: Norton) the following:

A sound explanation may exist for the explosive birth of our Universe, but if it does, science cannot find out what that explanation is. The scientist’s pursuit of the past ends in the moment of creation. This is an exceedingly strange development, unexpected by all but the theologians. They have always accepted the word of the Bible, “In the beginning, God created the heaven and earth.” To which St. Augustine added, “Who can understand this mystery or explain it to others?” The development is unexpected because science has had such extraordinary success in tracing the chain of cause and effect backward in time.… Now we would like to pursue that inquiry farther back in time, but the barrier to further progress seems insurmountable. It is not a matter of another year, another decade of work, another measurement, or another theory; at this moment it seems as though science will never be able to raise the curtain on the mystery of creation. For the scientist who has lived by his faith in the power of reason, the story ends like a bad dream. He has scaled the mountains of ignorance; he is about to conquer the highest peak; as he pulls himself over the final rock, he is greeted by a band of theologians who have been sitting there for centuries. 

William Faulkner, the novelist, toiled for years as an unknown, disrespected writer in rural Mississippi before he finally gained recognition. When he won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1950, his acclaim grew. When approached later about the literary people and authors he associated with, Faulkner shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't know any literary people. The people I know are other farmers and horse people and hunters and we talk about dogs and guns and what to do about the hay crop or this cotton crop, not about literature."

You see Faulkner was already friends with real people, unpretentious people. He was friends with people who were honest about their lives and about living. He chose, even after his success, to continue to surround himself with those who populated his stories and actually lived his intensely human fiction, rather than those who simply talked about the South, or wrote about the South.

Authenticity!! It is the ingredient that will make your Christian life convincing. And repentance is the first step to getting there.

Carl Michalson, a brilliant young theologian who died in a plane crash some years ago, once told about playing with his young son one afternoon. They were tussling playfully on their front lawn when Michalson accidentally hit the young boy in the face with his elbow. It was a sharp blow full to his son's face. The little boy was stunned by the impact of the elbow. It hurt, and he was just about to burst into tears. But then he looked into his father's eyes. Instead of anger and hostility, he saw there his father's sympathy and concern; he saw there his father's love and compassion. Instead of exploding into tears, the little boy suddenly burst into laughter. What he saw in his father's eyes made all the difference!

The sharp blow of God's message to us is: Repentance. But, look into your father's eyes. What he offers you is forgiveness and that makes all the difference. Repent and you will be forgiven.

Unfortunately, we have psychologized the gospel, turned it into a feeling, transformed the Kingdom of God into a mood. We have deluded ourselves into thinking that the Messiah whom we await is the great cosmic affirmer of everything we hold dear and of all our illusions. But Hans Küng reminds us:

"We are to preach metanoia. We must entice people from the world to God. We are not to shut ourselves off from the world in a spirit of asceticism, but to live in the everyday world inspired by the radical obedience that is demanded by the love of God. The Church must be reformed again and again, converted again and again in each day in order that it may fulfill its task."

So this Sunday, in the midst of our growing joy at the advent of God into our world, let us pause to listen to this harsh prophet standing knee-deep in cold Jordan water. Hear his judging words, no matter where they strike and hurt. Remember -- our Lord comes not only to save us but also to change us, to convert these stones into children. This Lord comes as the one who will turn everything upside-down, even us, until all creation is under his rule.

Note: Metanoia means change, repentance.  

Washington, D.C. March 30, 1863

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

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Calvin, who saw that the Devil's chief device was disunity and division and who preached that there should be friendly fellowship for all ministers of Christ, made a similar point in a letter to a trusted colleague:

"Among Christians there ought to be so great a dislike of schism, as that they may always avoid it so fast as lies in their power. That there ought to prevail among them such a reverence for the ministry of the word and the sacraments that wherever they perceive these things to be, there they must consider the church to exist...nor need it be of any hindrance that some points of doctrine are not quite so pure, seeing that there is scarcely any church which has not retained some remnants of former ignorance."

C. T. Studd inherited a fortune from his father, one of the wealthiest Englishmen of the latter 19th century, but Studd gave it all up to become a missionary to China, India and Africa. Why? Here he is in his own words: "Christ's call is to feed the hungry, not the full; to save the lost, not the stiff-necked; not to call the scoffers, but sinners to repentance; not to build and furnish comfortable chapels, churches and cathedrals at home in which to rock Christian professors to sleep by means of clever essays, stereotyped prayers and artistic musical performances, but to raise living churches of souls among the destitute, to capture men from the devil's clutches and snatch them from the very jaws of hell, to enlist and train them for Jesus and make them into an Almighty Army of God. But this can only be accomplished by a red-hot, unconventional, unfettered Holy Ghost religion, where neither church nor state, neither man nor traditions are worshiped or preached, but only Christ and Him crucified. Not to confess Christ by fancy collars, clothes, silver croziers or gold watch-chain crosses, church steeples or richly embroidered altar cloths, but by reckless sacrifice and heroism in the foremost trenches."