I'll tell you the story of Oseola McCarty. She died just a few years ago at the age of 91. She was an African-American woman from Mississippi, who earned a living by washing and ironing other people's clothes. McCarty, who never married, was in the 6th grade when she had to leave school and take over her mother's laundry business while she cared for a sick aunt. "All my classmates had gone off and left me so I didn't go back," she said. "I just washed and ironed." She never had a car. Only recently at the urging of bank personnel, did she buy a window air conditioner for her home. McCarty's arthritis forced her to retire in December of 1994 at the age of 86.

McCarty scrimped and saved, however, until she was able to leave $150,000 to the University of Southern Mississippi to set up scholarships for other needy African Americans. Contributions from more than 600 donors have added some $330,000 to the original scholarship fund of $150,000. After hearing of Miss McCarty's gift, Ted Turner, a multi-billionaire, gave away a billion dollars. He said, "If that little woman can give away everything she has, then I can give a billion." Oseola just said, "I want to help somebody's child go to college." "I can't do everything," she said, "but I can do something to help somebody. I wish I could do more. But what I can do I will do." That's a good steward.

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

Neibuhr described the four types of pride:

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

Stanley Jones tells of a missionary who got lost in an African jungle, nothing around him but bush and a few cleared places. He found a native hut and asked the native if he could get him out. The native said he could.

"All right," said the missionary, "show me the way."

The native said, "Walk," so they walked and hacked their way through unmarked jungle for more than an hour.

The missionary got worried. "Are you quite sure this is the way? Where is the path?"

The native said, "Bwana, in this place there is no path. I am the path."

I think that it is here that Peter has one of his more honest and real moments. His guard was down because so many people were leaving Jesus. They were leaving because, quite frankly, things were getting a little too difficult. So, Jesus asks the twelve, are you going to leave me as well? "Lord, to whom shall we go?" Peter replied, "You have the words of eternal life. You are the Holy One of God." Peter speaks for us all. Because in this world there is not path. Peter, you are right. He is the Path!

ALTERNATE ENDING

Our path out of the jungle of this world is God in Christ. We may have some Rabbis, Masters, Father's, Teachers, and Reverends, but we are all like the missionary. We rely not upon men but Christ who is our path.

General Eisenhower would demonstrate the art of leadership with a piece of string. He'd put it on a table and say: "PULL it and it will follow wherever you wish. PUSH it and it will go nowhere at all. It's just that way when it comes to leading people. They need to follow a person who is leading by example."

In George S. Clason's, The Richest Man in Babylon, he teaches an important principle. It's a principle you're familiar with: the person wanting to be rich should give away ten percent of everything he earns. Why? According to Clason there are some deep subconscious, psychological principles.

The first is that you should put back what you take out. The second is that the act of giving ten percent creates value for yourself and others. But I was drawn to his third reason for giving ten percent away. When we do that, according to Clason, it says to the world and to our own subconscious mind that there is more than enough, that we expect life to keep providing what we need.

This poor widow had never read The Richest Man in Babylon, but she must have trusted that there was more than enough in the Father's storehouse and that he would provide. That kind of trust, that kind of confidence, that kind of hope is pleasing to God.

Author Ruele Howe tells about growing up with his parents in the country. When he was 15 years old, the house caught on fire. They escaped with only the clothes on their backs. There were no close neighbors to help so he and his father walked to a distant village to get supplies. As they returned they saw something that stayed with Ruele Howe all those years after. Beside the charred remains of what had been their house, his mother had laid out lunch on a log. She had placed a tin can filled with wildflowers on the log. It was a symbol of hope in the midst of tragedy.

This is the Christian faith, isn't it? She didn't try to cover up the disaster with flowers, but in the midst of that gloomy scene she had placed a symbol of hope.

These two coins that the widow placed in the temple treasury were her wildflowers. This was her symbol, her way of saying I know God will provide.

This concept of authority as something that causes another person to "do what you want him to do" is reflected in most definitions. For instance, the Random House Dictionary of the English Language speaks of authority as "a power or right to direct the actions or thoughts of others. Authority is a power or right, usually because of rank or office, to issue commands and to punish for violations." Again the root idea seems to be control or direction of the actions of others.

We see this same idea even in sophisticated examinations of authority. For instance, William Oncken, Jr., in a 1970 Colorado Institute of Technology Journal, gives an analysis of authority that suggests it is comprised of four elements:

1. The Authority of Competence: the more competent the other fellow knows you are, the more confident he will be that you know what you are talking about and the more likely he will be to follow your orders, requests, or suggestions. He will think of you as an authority in the matter under consideration and will feel it risky to ignore your wishes.

2. The Authority of Position: This component gives you the right to tell someone, "Do it or else." It has teeth. "The boss wants it" is a bugle call that can snap many an office or shop into action.

3. The Authority of Personality: The easier it is for the other fellow to talk to you, to listen to you, or to work with you, the easier he will find it to respond to your wishes.

4. The Authority of Character: This component is your "credit rating" with other people as to your integrity, reliability, honesty, loyalty, sincerity, personal morals, and ethics. Obviously you will get more and better from a man who has respect for your character than from one who hasn't.

Believing things "on authority" only means believing them because you have been told them by someone you think trustworthy. Ninety-nine percent of the things you believe are believed on authority. I believe there is such a place as New York. I could not prove by abstract reasoning that there is such a place. I believe it because reliable people have told me so. The ordinary person believes in the solar system, atoms, and the circulation of the blood on authority because the scientists say so. Every historical statement is believed on authority. None of us has seen the Norman Conquest or the defeat of the Spanish Armada. But we believe them simply because people who did see them have left writings that tell us about them; in fact, on authority. A person who balked at authority in other things, as some people do in religion, would have to be content to know nothing all his life.

You remember the story about the old monastery which was down to just three monks? Years had passed since anyone joined the order. Its time had passed and these three monks figured they would be the last. The abbot in charge shared his sadness with a friend, the neighboring rabbi. The rabbi looked surprised. "Oh no," he said. "Your order will not die. Your monastery will not close. I have had a revelation that the Messiah is among you. So, no, you will not close." The Abbot returned to the other monks scratching his head, and told his two colleagues. They were all astonished. And suddenly, they began to see each other in an entirely new light. They began to take care of each other as never before, as if they were taking care of the Messiah. They listened to each other as they had never listened before, as if they were listening to the Messiah. They blessed one another as they had never blessed one another before, as if they were blessing the Messiah. Visitors to the monastery noticed the quality of the monks care for one another. It was beautiful. And it was contagious. People wanted to experience what they experienced. People wanted to join, and when they did, they were told the secret: "Sh-h-h-h-h! The Messiah is here among us!" And each met the Messiah in the other until all were drawn close in the love of God.

It may come as a surprise to Christian listeners, who are used to thinking of Pharisees as hypocrites and enemies of Jesus, that in this passage it is Pharisees who warn Jesus to flee from Galilee because Herod wants to kill him. Not all Pharisees were hostile to Jesus. While Jesus and the Pharisees did not see things eye to eye, we find in Luke and Acts that Pharisees are often in the company of Jesus and not always antagonistic. Jesus is often invited to the home of a Pharisee for dinner (Luke 7:36, 11:37; 14:1). In Acts 5:33-39, when the Jewish Sanhedrin wanted to kill the apostles, a well-known Pharisee, Gamaliel, counsels them to be careful how they treat these men. If the undertaking of the apostles is of human origin, Gamaliel says, it will fail; "but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them in that case you may even be found fighting against God!" Some Pharisees had even become Christians (Acts 15:5). And of course we know that Paul himself was a Pharisee. In fact, in his defense before the Sanhedrin he uses the present tense and says, "I am a Pharisee" (Acts 23:6).

The Gospel according to Mark, commonly accepted to be the earliest of the synoptics, relates that Jesus began his Galilean ministry by 1. making an announcement, 2. extending an invitation, and 3. issuing a command. It would be pressing the matter entirely too far to even remotely suggest that the sequence of events was intentional, yet there is a certain familiarity about the sequence itself. As a matter of fact, the three ingredients, broadly categorized above, probably bear a striking resemblance to the sermon you will likely hear in your particular church on any given Sunday: a. the announcement of a Gospel truth; b. the exhortation, with some degree of urgency, to accomplish something in the name of Christ, and c. the invitation to respond. Intentional or not, Jesus began his ministry with a format exceptionally accommodating to Gospel preachers. However, let us take up the sequence as described by Mark.

1. The announcement. The arrest of John the baptizer apparently served as the catalyst for Jesus to reveal the messianic secret. For thirty years, he had maintained a low profile, preparing himself, shaping his perspectives, waiting - waiting for the proper time to thrust himself prominently into the midst of human affairs. At last, the moment had arrived: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel" (1:15). Daring words! He had made bold as a young man sometime earlier in his hometown synagogue to proclaim that the Scriptures had been fulfilled at his reading. The Nazarenes responded by chasing him from the community. He knew full well that there would be a more general uprising against him now by both civil and religious authorities. But there was no choice. The groundwork had been laid, preparations had been completed, John was in prison, and the alarm must continue to be sounded: "The kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel."

2. The invitation. He would need help. Passing along the Sea of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon and Andrew. Without the slightest qualification, he said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." Take notice that no questions were asked, no excuses offered, no "process planning" nor introspective "objective-setting" dialogue transpired. Mark says, "And immediately they left their nets and followed him." Going a little farther, two other brothers, James and John heard a similar, abrupt invitation to respond in like manner. How do you account for the fact that these four individuals, secure in employment, having obligations and immediate responsibilities, walked away from it all to follow one who had come upon them from behind, no questions asked? Perhaps a part of the answer is found in 1:22 where Jesus is referred to as one who spoke with "authority," and not as the scribes. This particular reflection upon the scribes, implying a certain insipidness, interests us. They possessed authority by virtue of their position. Why did they not speak with authority? Conjecture is risky business, but we have a notion that their recitations were mechanical, unfeeling, and sing-song. Devotion may have been reduced to formalized vocation, and the sharp edge of adeptness dulled by neglect. Figureheads occupy space but command little respect, whether they be scribes, ministers, bishops, church-school teachers, or members of a church staff. One must be more than simply a "figure-head." Perhaps we should each take counsel with ourselves regarding the phrase, "for he taught as one having authority, not as the scribes."

3. The command. Jesus rebuked an unclean spirit and commanded it to come out of a man in the synagogue, "and the unclean spirit ... came out of him" (1:26). Let us note the response: "They were all amazed and said ‘With authority he commands even the unclean spirits’ " (1:27).

Jesus began his public ministry with an announcement, an invitation, and a command, but most of all with authority.

Mary Had The Little Lamb

Mary had the little Lamb, who lived before His birth;
Self-existent Son of God, from Heaven He came to Earth.
Micah 5:2

Mary had the little Lamb; see Him in yonder stall
Virgin-born Son of God, to save man from the Fall.
Isaiah 7:14

Mary had the little Lamb, obedient Son of God;
Everywhere the Father led, His feet were sure to trod.
John 6:38

Mary had the little Lamb, crucified on the tree
The rejected Son of God, He died to set men free.
1 Peter 1:18

Mary had the little Lamb men placed Him in the grave,
Thinking they were done with Him; to death He was no slave!
Matthew 28:6

Mary had the little Lamb, ascended now is He;
All work on Earth is ended, our Advocate to be.
Hebrews 4:14-16

Mary had the little Lame mystery to behold!
From the Lamb of Calvary, a Lion will unfold.
Revelation 5: 5,6

When the Day Star comes again, of this be very sure:
It won't be Lamb-like silence, but with the Lion's roar.
Psalm 2:12
Revelation 19:11-16

Now, more than ever, we need to face the question, "Who is the real Jesus?" Is the Christ of faith the Jesus of history? What is the truth about Jesus? What can we believe? We turn to the Apostles' Creed which has given the church's answer for 2,000 years.

Different Positions

It is not strange that the most popular question of our time is, "Who is Jesus?" Was this question not answered in Matthew 16:16 when Peter said to Jesus at Caesarea Philippi: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God"? In Jesus' day, too, there were different opinions about Jesus. When on a retreat with his disciples, he asked them what people were saying about him. The public was divided: Jesus was considered to be John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. What more of an answer do we need than the answer of Peter? Jesus accepted his answer as the truth, for he said, "Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven" (Matthew 16:17). Yet, after twenty centuries, we do not believe what Peter said about the identity of Jesus. According to a Gallup poll, 42 percent of Americans agreed with the statement: "Jesus is the Son of God." A recent report from Germany indicated that only one out of every four believe in Jesus Christ. Throughout Christian history down to the present, there are different views of Jesus. Now let us look at some of them.

1. The All-Human Jesus

Human

According to this position, Jesus is 100 percent human. It was held as early as the first centuries of Christianity by the Ebionites. They denied that Jesus was divine. He was only a teacher, prophet, miracle-man, and one with an outstanding character. But he was not divine, the Son of God. Today this view is held by many, including atheists, agnostics, Unitarians, Jews, Moslems, and other non-Christian religions.

2. The All-Divine Jesus

Divine

Opposite the Ebionites, Docetists held that Jesus was entirely divine. He was not at all human. This view was originally taught by Eutychus, a monk in a monastery near Constantinople. In the fourth century, Appolonarius, bishop of Laodicea, popularized the teaching. It was known as Docetism, from the Latin word docere meaning "to seem." It just seemed that Jesus was human. It was based on the idea that the physical and material were inherently evil. The human body therefore was sinful. Jesus therefore was not human, for God could not be identified with sin. Docetists held that Jesus' human nature was swallowed up by the divine. This denied the Incarnation, the biblical teaching that "the Word became flesh."

3. The Half And Half Jesus

Human/Divine

Nestorians took the view that Jesus was half human and half divine. It was taught by Nestorius, bishop of Constantinople, in the fifth century. To this day it is a very popular understanding of Jesus. When we see Jesus hungry, thirsty, and tired, we say it was because he was human. When he struggles in prayer and on the cross cries out, "My God, why ...?" we see the human Jesus. On the other hand, Jesus is God when he walks on water, feeds 5,000, raises the dead, heals lepers, and rises from the grave. The problem with this view is that we have a divided Jesus -- two persons in one body.

4. The Adopted Jesus

Divine

Human

This is known as adoptionism. According to this position, Jesus came into the world as a human. Because of his moral excellence, his perfect obedience to God, his wisdom, his compassion for people, and his willing sacrifice of himself on the cross, the Father adopted him as his son at his baptism. This adoption was confirmed by the resurrection and the ascension. Jesus then became a deified man.

5. The Both And Jesus

Human & Divine

The above different positions concerning Jesus caused great concern, for the gospel was at stake. If Jesus were only human, then he was just a martyr on the cross and not the Lamb that took away the sin of the world. If he were only human, the resurrection was a fairy tale. His promises of forgiveness and eternal life were meaningless. His claims to know God and to be one with God would then be the words of a religious fanatic who was deluded into thinking he was the Son of God.

On the other hand, if Jesus were only divine and not human, humanity would be the loser. Because he was human, he became one of us. As a human, he fulfilled the law for us. Through his humanity we could see the nature of God. Above all, he became sin for us so that sin, through him, could go out of the world. As a human Jesus knows our human condition. Like all of us he was tempted and he showed that by the power of God we can overcome temptation to sin.

Consequently, the church had to take a stand on the question of Jesus. Is he only human, only divine, or half and half? In 451 A.D. the church held a council at Chalcedon to decide the issue. The church decided that it was not a matter of Jesus being fully God or fully human, or half and half, but it was a matter of both, both fully human and fully divine. To this day the church holds to this truth stated at Chalcedon:

We confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, perfect in manhood, truly God and truly man, or a rational soul and a body, of one substance with the Father with respect to the Godhead, and of one substance with us in respect of the manhood, like us in everything but sin ...

This is to say that Jesus is fully God and fully man. These two natures are blended into one integrated personality. He is not a split personality, nor does he suffer from schizophrenia. It is like a blender in your kitchen. Suppose you put apples, peaches, and pears in it and pushed the "on" button for a minute. Now what do you have -- apples, peaches, and pears? Yes, you do, but can you tell which is which? They have become one fruit, one substance. Also, it is like homogenized milk. When the raw milk comes from the farm, a dairy runs it through a homogenizer. As the milk runs through the machine, pistons compact the milk so that the cream and skim milk are made one. As a result you cannot take cream off the milk. In the same way, the human and divine natures of Jesus are compacted into one integrated person.

This means that the Father and the Son are one. When Jesus prays, God also prays. When the human Jesus suffers and dies on a cross, God is in Jesus enduring the cross. "God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Corinthians 5:19). When the human Jesus speaks, it is also God who speaks. When Jesus weeps, God weeps. This truth makes us realize the seriousness of the cross. It was not only a human on the cross, but God was there in Jesus. Good Friday is the day God died in Jesus. Indeed, the murderers did not know what they were doing; they did not know they were killing God! As the spiritual says, "Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble."

The Messianic Age. This is what every Jewish child of God was hoping, praying, and waiting for. It is easy to see why when we hear God's Old Testament promises about the Messianic Age:

• (Isa 2:2) In the last days the mountain of the Lord's temple will be established as chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all nations will stream to it.
• (Isa 2:4) They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.
• (Isa 35:5-7) Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. (6) Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. (7) The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
• (Isa 60:3,10-13) Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. (13) "Foreigners will rebuild your walls, and their kings will serve you ... (11) Your gates will always stand open, they will never be shut, day or night, so that men may bring you the wealth of the nations their kings led in triumphal procession. (12) For the nation or kingdom that will not serve you will perish; it will be utterly ruined. (13) "The glory of Lebanon will come to you, the pine, the fir and the cypress together, to adorn the place of my sanctuary; and I will glorify the place of my feet.
• (Isa 65:20-21,25) "Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years; he who dies at a hundred will be thought a mere youth; he who fails to reach a hundred will be considered accursed. (21) They will build houses and dwell in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit ... (25) The wolf and the lamb will feed together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox, but dust will be the serpent's food. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain," says the LORD.

What wonderful, beautiful promises. No wonder God's Jewish children could hardly wait for the Messianic Age.

The Old Testament Scriptures clearly state that the beauty and wonder of the Messianic Age will become a reality; but this will be so only with the coming of the Messiah. The Messiah. It is He Who brings about the Messianic Age.

Today, in the story of Jesus' baptism, Matthew tells his Jewish audience that the Messiah has come and that the Messianic Age is about to begin. And, in a departure from Jewish expectations about the Messiah, Matthew tells his Jewish audience that Messiah Jesus has come to take the sinner's place.

He had just finished feeding the 5,000 men plus women and children when he asked them the question (Luke 9:10-17). In this context of feeding people (cf. Luke 24:28-35) Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" (Luke 9:18). We stand here at a turning point in Luke's story of Jesus. In earlier stories of Jesus' baptism, genealogy, temptation and a sabbath in his hometown synagogue Luke has given us all kinds of clues as to the identity of Jesus. After that there comes action. Jesus healed people. He forgave sinners. He called disciples. He challenged sabbath laws and so on. It's time now to return to the question of identity. Do even the disciples understand who this man is? Does anyone really understand?

The disciples answered Jesus question by stating the opinions of some in the crowds. Jesus' then zeroes in on the disciples themselves. "But who do you say that I am?" (Luke 9:20). "The Messiah of God," Peter answered.

And then Jesus did a surprising thing. He acknowledged that Peter had the right answer to his question. But he told the disciples not to tell anyone the truth of his identity. The coming of the Messiah would move Israel from one degree of glory to another. But Jesus was not to be this Messiah of glory. Jesus was to be a Messiah on a cross. Jesus tells it straight in a new revelation of his identity. "The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised" (Luke 9:22).

The disciples must have been stunned. They had glory on their minds, too. But, no, the way of this Messiah was to be a way of suffering for him and for the disciples. "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23). The disciples never could get this through their heads. In the story of the transfiguration which Luke tells next we hear Jesus discussing the departure he would accomplish in Jerusalem. Jesus, that is, was discussing with Moses and Elijah his way to Jerusalem, his way to the cross. And the disciples? They wanted to build booths and live on this mountain of glory and transfiguration forever. They did not know what they were saying, Luke tells us.

This hardness of heart of the disciples appears again when they all come down from the Mount of Transfiguration. A man comes to Jesus in order that Jesus might heal his son who is possessed by a demon. "I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not," the father says to Jesus. Jesus proceeds to wonder aloud about the faithless disciples. He tells them again, therefore, of his mission. "Let these words sink into your ears," he tells them, "The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands." Sadly Luke tells us of the disciples that, "... they did not understand this saying; its meaning was concealed from them, so they could not perceive it" (Luke 9:44-45). The disciples prove the truth of this statement by turning to a discussion among themselves about which one of them was the greatest. They're still thinking of glory!

Jesus has revealed that he must go to Jerusalem to suffer, to die and to be raised again. The disciples don't get it at all. With his heart heavy with the suffering that lay ahead, therefore, and with his mind puzzled by disciples who failed to understand, Jesus set his face to go to Jerusalem.

Did your mother ever say any of the following to you?

• I could plant potatoes in those ears.
• I'm not your maid.
• If your friends jumped off a cliff does that mean you have to jump too?
• Just wait till you have kids of your own!
• Don't talk with food in your mouth!
• You weren't born in a barn, so stop acting like you were!

And of course I am sure you have heard, if not uttered, the all time classic

• Because I'm your mother, that's why!

These expressions have been passed from generation to generation. They are expressions of authority - the authority of a parent over a child. Authority however is weaker in some people and stronger in others. We have all heard parents who say things like "I really mean it this time" and know that it means nothing.

Equally, we have heard others say simply and quietly, "Come here, children" and seen an entire herd of kids tumble into a classroom, waiting for what is to be said next. Authority and power is not easy to define but it is easy to recognize when we see it.

Saint Paul reminds us that we ought to pray, make intercession for, and thank God for all those in authority, "so that our common life can be lived in peace and quiet." He reminds us that "those in authority are given this authority from God for the maintenance of law and order and for the punishment of evil doers." If we pray for good government, good law and order, and good schools, we must be willing to play our part as responsible citizens to stand by and support these activities. Much of the terrible lawlessness that imperils our nation is not due to lack of efficiency of our law officers. It is due to the chicken-livered foolishness and perverted sense of values so many ordinary citizens have with regard to their duty to help maintain order.

How many people will swear out a warrant when evil has been committed, or how many people will report a civil offense when they witness such an act? Yet, let those same people become a victim of foul play and they will be the first to critize those in authority. People who aren’t concerned with justice, deserve very little mercy. Never forget that the police officer, the judge, the government official, yes, even the school teacher can only be as good and efficient as you and I make it possible for them to be.

For centuries people believed that Aristotle was right when he said that the heavier an object, the faster it would fall to earth. Aristotle was regarded as the greatest thinker of all time, and surely he would not be wrong. Anyone, of course, could have taken two objects, one heavy and one light, and dropped them from a great height to see whether or not the heavier object landed first. But no one did until nearly 2,000 years after Aristotle's death. Legend has it that in 1589 Galileo summoned learned professors to the base of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Then he went to the top and pushed off a ten-pound and a one-pound weight. Both landed at the same instant. The power of belief was so strong, however, that the professors denied their eyesight. They continued to say Aristotle was right.

I believe that this illustrates perfectly what is going on in the world today. You could show the terrible ravaging effects of AIDS and people will have promiscuous sex anyway. You can show someone a diseased liver and cancerous lungs and people are going to abuse alcohol and smoke regardless of the facts.

You know what I wish? I wish someone would just climb to the top of the tower and push off a ten-pound argument and a one-pound argument and let's just see if they reach the ground first. That would finally prove who is right and who is wrong. But then I am reminded that when Galileo did that no one believed him. Even with the authority of obvious visible proof, i.e. the two weights reached the ground at the same time, the professors did not believe. The problem here is obvious. Most people are going to believe what they have always believed regardless of the facts.

But something different occurred in the life of Jesus. Something persuasive. Mark records that when Jesus came to Capernaum, on the Sabbath day, and entered the synagogue and taught, the crowds were astounded. Why? One word: Authority. He taught, not as the scribes taught, but as one having authority.

What was it that convinced them? What did they hear and see in the life of Christ that made him stand above all other teachers. Why were they so drawn to him?

1.  His teaching was new.
2.  He taught with authority.

Let us fabricate a situation in order to refer to an actual circumstance. Suppose that your family doctor spent the better part of his time enjoying the company of his cohorts, all of them healthy, sharing a common interest, and preserving the clinic by keeping it in good repair, yet never associated with persons beset by maladies. The clinic has been the medical center for as long as anyone can remember, but is used primarily for research and as a place to house medical books. The doctors are far too involved with perusing the records, studying cures, and maintaining the dignity of medicine to bother themselves with the sick and infirm. To carry this hypothetical situation further, let us say that a new doctor appears in town, totally unrelated to the time-honored clinic, independent of the guild. He seeks out the diseased, actually associates with them, and proceeds to cure their ailments. Immediately, the professional guild begins to question his credentials and stirs up public opinion against him.

Now read Mark 2:15-17. Jesus has invited certain tax collectors and "sinners" to dinner in his own home. The scribes and Pharisees, no doubt chaffed because Jesus had not invited them instead, raised a question which is, in fact, unintelligible for men of their profession: "Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?" Why was he not at the holy of holies with them observing proper rituals and diet? Why did he not take his fellowship with the saints, the "clean" and righteous? Jesus not only explained the messianic format, he also reprimanded them for their insular hypocrisy: "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I came not to call the righteous, but sinners."

The Pharisees were monitors of the Law. It is true ... there must always be individuals around us to call our attention to the rules, but it is an additional gift of grace when such persons possess at least a minimum of common sense. Some years ago, I received a telephone call from a parishioner who desperately pleaded that I come immediately to her house and rush her to the emergency room of a local hospital. Knowing that she had been experiencing difficulty with her pregnancy, I did not ask questions, but quickly ran to the car and hurried to her house. She was waiting on the front porch as I drove into the driveway. As I helped her into the car, she kept saying, "Hurry, hurry!" In a matter of moments I drove up to the entrance of the emergency room, jumped from the car and started around to open the door to assist the young lady inside. Even before I could reach the other side of the car, a man in uniform came charging from behind the sliding glass doors shouting, "You can’t park here ... this area must be kept open for emergency!" I explained to him that this was an emergency. "I can’t help that," he said, "you’ll have to move the car before you can bring her in." I had to move the car, park it at a considerable distance from the emergency room entrance and almost carry the expectant mother into the hospital. As I mentioned, there must always be individuals to remind us of the rules, but it is an additional gift of grace if they have a minimum of common sense.

The Pharisees scolded Jesus for associating with sinners (Mark 2:16), chastized him for plucking grain for nourishment on the sabbath (23-28), and rebuked him for healing a man with a withered hand on the same day (3:1-6). Jesus was threatening their security, their positions, and assuming their authority. Not surprisingly, rather than reassessing their own witness, they dug in all the more, and "stirred up the people against him."

A Lutheran professor named David Rhoads points out that in Mark "Jesus wields authority over demons, illnesses (when people have faith), and natural forces (seas, deserts, trees) - nonhuman forces that oppress people. Jesus wields no authority, however, over people. He cannot heal people without faith, make them keep quiet if they wish to speak, or force his disciples to understand his teachings." Jesus has dominion over all aspects of life but not authority to "lord it over" humans - plenty of other religious figures, ancient and contemporary, try to do that. Jesus, rather, has divine authority to serve people.

A few years ago I was in Washington, D.C., and I went on a tour of all the traditional sites like the White House, the Smithsonian, the halls of Congress and the Lincoln Memorial. There is something about standing in the Lincoln Memorial and reading the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural Address which gives you goose bumps. One line in the Second Inaugural reminds you what a caring and compassionate man Lincoln was. He was speaking about the coming end of the War and he said: "With malice toward none; With charity for all."

Lincoln put this idea into practice on the day that news arrived in Washington that the war was over. A crowd gathered at the White House and a military band was playing some festive music. Lincoln stood on the balcony of the White House and spoke. Instead of lashing out against the South, he spoke of the horrors of war being over. He spoke of families getting back together. He spoke of a time of peace. Then he said, "In a few moments I want the band to play and I'm going to tell them what I want them to play."

Of course, the band started getting the "Battle Hymn of The Republic" ready to play. This had been the theme song of the North throughout the Civil War. But Lincoln crossed them up. He stood there and said: "The band will now play the theme song of the people we have called our enemy. They are not our enemies any more! We are one people again. I want the band to play 'Dixie.'"

Historians say there was a long, awkward pause. The band didn't have the music to "Dixie," but they finally got together and played, "Dixie." Lincoln knew that the South was not only hurting because of the horrors of the war, but also because of the shame that accompanies defeat. Lincoln was sending a clear signal to the South. Lincoln was telling everyone that there would be no punishment upon the South. Lincoln was saying that the South would be treated with love and compassion.

When you love, after the patterns of Jesus, caring and compassion become the cornerstone of your love. Love is not vicious or hostile. Love does not try to compound the guilt. Love doesn't try to rub salt in the wounds of shame.

The poll tax mentioned in this passage was levied by the Romans against the Jews beginning in A.D. 6 when Judea became a Roman province. This poll tax was still around years later during Christ's ministry but when it was imposed for the first time, it provoked the rebellion of Judas the Galilean recorded in Acts 5:37 and discussed in more detail below. The Herodians favored the tax, but the Zealots, Pharisees, and people resented it. The Pharisees and the Herodians, though common adversaries in New Testament times on the very issue of rendering obedience and taxes to the Roman Empire, found themselves in common alliance in this instance to trap Christ in His words, trying to impale him on the horns of a serious dilemma. Should the authority of Caesar be recognized and the poll tax be paid to him?

If Christ were to have affirmed payment of the poll tax to Caesar, he would no doubt have pleased the Herodians but would have made Himself an even greater enemy of the Pharisees and an enemy of the people who shared popular resentment to the poll tax as an unlawful imposition by a heathen government. If, by contrast, Christ were to have denied that the poll tax be paid, he would have made Himself out to be an enemy of Rome and possibly, subject Himself to the charge of sedition.

There was a famous monastery which had fallen on very hard times. Formerly its many buildings were filled with young monks, and its huge chapel resounded with the singing of the choir. But now it was deserted. People no longer came there to be nourished by prayer. A handful of old monks shuffled through the cloisters and praised God with heavy hearts.

On the edge of the monastery woods, an old rabbi had built a tiny hut. He would come there from time to time to fast and pray. No one ever spoke with him, but whenever he appeared, the word would be passed from monk to monk: "The rabbi walks in the woods." And, for as long as he was there, the monks would feel sustained by his prayerful presence.

One day the abbot decided to visit the rabbi and open his heart to him. So, after the morning Eucharist, he set out through the woods. As he approached the hut, the abbot saw the rabbi standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome. It was as though he had been waiting there for some time. The two embraced like long-lost brothers. Then they stepped back and just stood there, smiling at one another with smiles their faces could hardly contain.

After a while, the rabbi motioned the abbot to enter. In the middle of the room was a wooden table with the Scriptures open on it. They sat there for a moment, in the presence of the Book. Then the rabbi began to cry. The abbot could not contain himself. He covered his face with his hands and began to cry, too. For the first time in his life, he cried his heart out. The two men sat there like lost children, filling the hut with their sobs and moistening the wood of the table with their tears.

After the tears had ceased to flow and all was quiet again, the rabbi lifted his head. "You and your brothers are serving God with heavy hearts," he said. "You have come to ask a teaching of me. I will give you a teaching, but you can only repeat it once. After that, no one must ever say it aloud again."

The rabbi looked straight at the abbot and said, "The Messiah is among you." For a while, all was silent. Then the rabbi said, "Now you must go." The abbot left without ever looking back.

The next morning, the abbot called his monks together in the chapter room. He told them that he had received a teaching from the rabbi who walks in the woods, and that this teaching was never again to be spoken aloud. Then he looked at each of his brothers and said, "The rabbi said that one of us is the Messiah."

The monks were startled by this saying. "What could it mean?" they asked themselves. "Is brother John the Messiah? No, he's too old and crotchety. Is brother Thomas? No, he's too stubborn and set in his ways. Am I the Messiah? What could this possibly mean?" They were all deeply puzzled by the rabbi's teaching. But no one ever mentioned it again.

As time went by, though, something unusual began to happen at the monastery. The monks began to treat one another with a very special reverence. There was a gentle, wholehearted, human quality about them now which was hard to describe, but easy to notice. They lived with one another as brothers who had finally found something. And yet, they prayed over the Scriptures together as those who were still looking for something. Visitors found themselves deeply moved by the genuine caring and sharing that went on among the brothers. Before long, people were again coming from far and wide to be nourished by the prayer life of these monks. And young men were asking, once again, to become part of the community.

In those days, the rabbi no longer walked in the woods. His hut had fallen into ruins. But somehow or other, the older monks who had taken his teaching to heart still felt sustained by his prayerful presence.

"Tell us what you think, Teacher. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?" When the Pharisees asked Jesus that question, he responded with a request, "Show me the coin used for the tax," and someone handed Jesus a coin embossed with the head of the current Roman emperor, Tiberius. Engraved around his head was the inscription, "Tiberius Caesar, majestic son of the majestic God, and High Priest." "Whose image is on this coin?" Jesus asked. "The emperor's," they responded. "Well then," Jesus said, "give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor." The image of the emperor was embossed on the coin, therefore the coin belonged to him.

But in answering the Pharisees' question, Jesus didn't stop with the issue of taxation. He continued, "and give to God what belongs to God." As Jesus spoke the words, "give to God what belongs to God," standing right before him were those on whom the image of God had been embossed. The Pharisees, teachers of the law of Israel, children of Abraham whom God had claimed as his own, had been created from the very beginning in the image of God. In the image of himself, God had created them. They belonged to God. Those in whose eyes Jesus looked as he spoke were the coins of God. "Give to God what belongs to God," Jesus said. But when he spoke those words, the Pharisees left him and went away.

Should we pay taxes to the government? Yes, Jesus would say. But again, Jesus wouldn't stop there. Today he looks you in the eye and says, "Give to God what belongs to God." And as he looks at you, Jesus sees the image of God. In the beginning God created you and embossed his image upon you. In the waters of baptism, God marked you with the cross of Christ forever. God has given himself to you and has promised to love you and be with you forever.

Mrs. Detweiler was created in the image of God. She worked at Murray Elementary as the special education teacher. It didn't take her students long to recognize the image of God within her which made them feel special and loved. Even though she was a special education teacher, the students of Murray Elementary considered it a privilege to be invited to Mrs. Detweiler's room. The walls of her small classroom were covered with stars made out of bright yellow construction paper. Neatly written in black permanent marker on the star at the top of each row was the name of one of her students. As soon as a student finished reading a book, the title of that book was placed on another star that soon appeared directly beneath the star bearing the student's name. The more books a person read, the more stars accumulated under the name. Whenever her students finished a book, Mrs. Detweiler made them feel like stars, themselves. Her ability to make her students feel special and important was a mark of the image of God shining through her.

Mrs. Detweiler bore the image of God. She loved her students -- that was the image of God. She gave of herself by teaching them to read -- that was the image of God. She believed in her students -- that was the image of God. But even as one created in the image of God, Mrs. Detweiler would be the first to say that she had her faults. There were times when she let her students down; times when she lost her patience; times when her mood affected her ability to respond to her students enthusiastically. Mrs. Detweiler wasn't perfect, but she had been created in the image of God, claimed as God's child through her baptism and renewed each day with the gift of forgiveness. As she gave God what belonged to God by giving of herself to her students, Jesus worked through her. Through Mrs. Detweiler, God's love, acceptance and encouragement was shown to many students as they grew and matured into the people God had created them to be. As she gave God what belonged to God, God continued to give himself to her, revealing his love again and again through the sparkle in her students' eyes.

You are God's. His image has been placed within you. When I look at you, I see the image of God. I see the image of God in your faces as you greet one another before worship. I see the image of God each time you pray for each other and share one another's concerns. I see the image of God when I go to the nursing home and watch you hug and hold and gently speak with those who reside there. I see the image of God when I watch the Sunday school staff relate with the children -- so often God's love is given and received in the simple interactions they share. I see the image of God in the church kitchen, as members of this congregation work side by side to prepare a meal after a funeral or before a fellowship event. I see the image of God every time one of you gives to the Lord's work in a generous and cheerful way, sharing with others the blessings God has given you. God's image shines when you invite and welcome your neighbors to church -- not only those who are like you, but those who bring different perspectives and talents and needs to this body of Christ. I see God's image as this congregation reaches beyond itself to support missionaries and relieve world hunger. Whenever you give of yourself to others, the image of God within you is being revealed.

You are the bearers of God's image. Jesus said, "Give to God the things that are God's." You are God's. Jesus says, "Give yourself to God." But before you can even respond to Jesus' call to give yourself to God, God gives himself to you. Even before you have a chance to respond to Jesus' command, Jesus goes to the cross. Jesus goes to the cross to give to God what belongs to God. Jesus goes to the cross to give you to his Father in Heaven, who then blesses you with salvation and eternal life. Jesus goes to the cross for you and gives you life.

Give to God the things that are God's. When you give yourself to God, God will nurture his image within you. Jesus who now lives in you will give himself to others whenever you give of yourself to those in need. Jesus will use you to reveal God's love and forgiveness, to show all God's children how special they are to God, and to proclaim salvation to all who have been created in the image of God. Give to God things that are God's, remembering that Jesus has already given himself for you. Amen.

In contrast to the theology of the cross and our suffering/dying king. Robert Capon in Hunting the Divine Fox presents a wonderful picture of our typical American Messiah and it doesn't look much like Jesus on the cross.

Almost nobody resists the temptation to jazz up the humanity of Christ. The true paradigm of the ordinary American view of Jesus is Superman: "Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's Superman! Strange visitor from another planet, who came to earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American Way." If that isn't popular christology, I'll eat my hat. Jesus gentle, meek and mild, but with secret, souped-up, more-than-human insides bumbles around for thirty-three years, nearly gets himself done in for good by the Kryptonite Kross, but at the last minute, struggles into the phone booth of the Empty Tomb, changes into his Easter suit and, with a single bound, leaps back up to the planet Heaven.

You think that's funny? Don't laugh. The human race is, was and probably always will be deeply unwilling to accept a human messiah. We don't want to be saved in our humanity; we want to be fished out of it. We crucified Jesus, not because he was God, but because he blasphemed: He claimed to be God and then failed to come up to our standards for assessing the claim. It's not that we weren't looking for the Messiah; it's just that he wasn't what we were looking for. Our kind of Messiah would come down from a cross. He would carry a folding phone booth in his back pocket. He wouldn't do a stupid thing like rising from the dead. He would do a smart thing like never dying." [pp. 90-91; this book has been reprinted, along with two others under the title The Romance of the Word: One Man's Love Affair with Theology]

Do you remember the movie Dead Man Walking? It's the story of one seemingly at the opposite end of the spectrum, a convicted killer on death row, and his relationship with a Catholic sister who serves as his spiritual director. In a scene near the end of the movie, it is the final evening before the scheduled execution, and all appeals have been denied.

The man and the spiritual director talk honestly about the horrifying crime he committed, its impact upon the victims' families, and the readiness of the convicted killer to face death. In the midst of these painfully honest remembrances, the sister reminds the killer, "You are a son of God." Moments of shocked silence follow, and then the one facing a mandated death sentence confesses, "No one's ever said that to me before.  Plenty of times I've been called a son of something else, but never a son of God."

One senses that it is a truth that all too late in the game begins to settle in the convicted killer's heart. Yet even at that late date, it is a gift that carries with it the power to transform and make new.

Let me tell you a story about a family whose house burned down. Their little girl in that family was named Victoria. A couple years ago during Thanksgiving their home burned to the ground. Fortunately they were not home, but everything was lost.

Their next-door neighbors have an 8-year-old son named Ian who is a good friend of Victoria. A few days after the fire, Victoria's father returned to the burned house to see if he could find anything useful in the wreckage. He looked up and saw Ian coming in his direction carrying a round Styrofoam cooler in a wheelbarrow. Ian opened the top of the cooler proudly, displaying thousands of pennies that his family had been saving since he was two-years-old. He handed the cooler to Victoria's dad and said, "I want you to use this to buy a Christmas present for Victoria."

At first he thought he must decline the gift, but something in Ian's eyes just wouldn't let him. The boy's expression was so full of love. So he hugged him and said, "Thank you very much."

Thankfully, most of us have not experienced the horror of burned-down houses, but many of us have very definite hurts and longings this Advent season. The Messiah comes to us in the spirit of Ian, offering himself as our gift. How strange it is that when we accept the gift of the Messiah, it matches exactly our hurt and need. When we tie our destiny to this Messiah-King, we can face whatever the future brings, knowing that we are more than conquerors through Christ who loves us.

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).

In Princeton, New Jersey, there is a legendary tale about the eminent scientist Albert Einstein walking in front of a local inn and being mistaken for a bellboy by a dowager who had just arrived in a luxury sedan. She orders him to carry her luggage into the hotel, and, according to the story, Einstein does so, receives a small tip, and then continues on to his office to ponder the mysteries of the universe. True or not, the story is delightful, precisely because we savor from the beginning a secret the dowager does not know: the strange-looking, ruffled little man is the most celebrated intellect of our time. Some stories gain their power from our knowing the story's secret from the start.

The Gospel of Mark is just such a story. The secret of Mark's Gospel is the identity of Jesus Christ. In the very first sentence of the Gospel story, Mark lifts the veil and lets us know the secret when he says that this is "...the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Jesus is the Son of God, that's the secret, and lest we miss it, this hidden truth is confirmed in the story's opening episode, when Jesus, coming up out of the waters of baptism, sees the Holy Spirit descending upon him like a dove from the heavens, which have been torn open like a piece of cloth, and hears the very voice of God telling the secret: "Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased" (Mark 1:11). Only Jesus sees the Spirit; only Jesus hears the voice. This is, in the words of one commentator, "a secret epiphany."

The Jews had a tradition that stated that angels gave the law to Moses. Moses, in turn, passed it onto Joshua; Joshua passed it onto the elders; the elders passed it onto the prophets; and the prophets passed it onto those who led the synagogue, i.e., the Pharisees and the scribes. So, because the law originated with Moses, the position of being a teacher of God's law became known as Moses's eat. In fact in the synagogue, there was a raised platform at the front. On that platform was a special seat, reserved for the most respected teacher in the synagogue. Today, we speak in universities of the chair of philosophy or the chair of history. The chair is reserved for the most esteemed person in any given subject. Well, Moses' seat was, in essence, the chair of philosophy in ancient Israel. So Jesus is attacking the highest symbol of religious authority. Well, that's what the Pharisees and scribes claimed. He actually wasn't attacking the chair; rather, he was attacking those who occupied the chair. He was saying they were unworthy of the chair.

There is a story of two lawyers on opposing sides of a case. During the trial, one thought he would make a great impression on the jury by quoting from the Bible. So he said, concerning his opponent’s client, “We have it on the highest authority that ‘All that a man has will he give for his skin.’ ”

The other lawyer knew the Bible better. He said, “I am very much impressed by the fact that my distinguished colleague here regards as the highest authority the one who said, ‘All that a man has will he give for his skin.’ You will find that this saying comes from the Book of Job and the one who utters it is the devil. And that is who he regards as the highest authority!”

The boy Jesus was a powerful and expected sight for certain eyes born of devout and unwavering faith. It has been said that Harriet Tubman was known to wait in train stations without the aid of train schedules or knowing when the train was coming. When asked why she would do that, she simply said because she knew the train was coming. It was like she had this internal GPS. This may sound strange, but what does it mean to wait without a schedule but to be certain that the train is coming? Could it be that Tubman knew that the station was the place to be when waiting for coming trains? Might it have been that Tubman recognized that the tracks had already been laid outside the station for traveling beyond where her stationed eyes could see?

Likewise, Simeon and Anna were stationed in the very place, the temple, where certain eyes were able to see and recognize the boy Jesus for who he was and is the Messiah! We know that not all would or could not see Jesus as the Messiah. Experience had clouded their expectation, but this text calls us to expect to experience and to express what the Lord has shown us in the midst of all else. The world would not recognize him as the Messiah, certainly not a man on a donkey from an off-the-beaten-path like Nazareth. What a word!!! What a sight to see consolation and redemption in a baby that was yet gurgling. How it must have been for Joseph and Mary to see and hear what they heard! The text says that they were amazed!

If I told you to pull out a piece of paper and write on it who you say Jesus is what would you write? We all have some answer; we all have some images of Jesus. Some of them are the images we learned as children in Sunday school which have proved troubling and we don't' have anything to replace them with. Sometimes we dismiss Jesus on the basis of what we knew about Jesus at age six. Some of us have never examined the evidence for ourselves.

One of my main goals in preaching is to gain a fresh hearing for Jesus, especially among those who believe they already understand him. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you probably don't. Because what happens sometimes is that presumed familiarity has led to unfamiliarity. Jesus is sometimes obstructed by clouds of well-intentioned misinformation.

But ultimately, rather than give you my answer to the question I'd rather challenge you to answer the question for yourself because that's the only answer that matters. Is he Messiah? If that's what you think, what does that mean? Jesus clearly didn't' fit into what a Messiah was expected to be. Messiahs were supposed to have power, were supposed to take charge, were supposed to set things right and free the Jews from political expression. But Jesus refused to stiff arm anybody. He refused to dominate or to take up arms.

Is he Savior? OK. But what is he saving us from and what is he saving us to? Some people clearly had no interest in being saved. When Jesus said the poor are precious and the rich are in big trouble, only those on one side of that equation found it intriguing.

Is he Teacher? Surely, but is that all?

Who do you say he is? Messiah, Savior, Lord, shaman, teacher, friend, prophet, prince of peace?

Now, as you try and answer that question, don't be too alarmed if you cant' nail it down. Even those of us who wrestle with the question regularly find it difficult, because Jesus is sometimes downright incomprehensible; he is often enigmatic, ambiguous. From the very beginning, who Jesus was, what he was about, was far from self-evident. There were people who stood face-to-face with Jesus and said, "This is God incarnate." There appear to be many more who said, "This man is nuts." Although I think that for most of us, the biggest issue isn't that we've listened to Jesus and found him incomprehensible; it's that we've listened to him and found him too damned difficult.

God not only created persons, but persons of "worth." Regrettably, the Genesis account of humanity’s beginning has frequently been sensationalized, either by recurring debates as to the nature of the literature or gnat-straining arguments over sequences, that the matter of "worth" has escaped the hearing of a people who desperately need to hear it. Whatever else the high occurence of suicide in this country suggests to us, the matters of low self-esteem and a consciousness of worthlessness must certainly be taken into account. Genesis is but the first affirmation that God not only created persons, but persons of worth.

In Matthew 6:26, Jesus said, "Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow or reaped or gather in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" Although his primary intent was to direct his hearers beyond an anxiety-ridden life, the affirmation of worth is again underscored. "Are you not worth more than they?" The inference is "Yes," but how much more and why?

Years ago a little publication called The Electric Experimenter calculated what the average person weighing 150 pounds was worth. When the raw components were considered, it was determined that the average person was composed of 3,500 feet of oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen; enough fats to make a candle weighing fifteen pounds; enough carbon to make 9,360 lead pencils; fifty-four ounces of phosphorus to make 800,000 matches; enough sugar to make six little sugar cubes; enough iron to make a ten-penny nail; enough lime to mark off the batter’s box on a baseball diamond; twenty spoonfulls of salt; and various other chemicals and water which collectively totaled $8.50. In consideration of current inflationary costs, this means that a 150 pound person is presently valued at almost fifteen dollars. Jesus said, "Are you not worth more than they?" How much? From time to time it is remarked that "so-and-so is worth a million dollars," or a certain athlete is worth twelve million. This is not the kind of worth we are concerned with here.

The Bible tells us that each child of God is a creature of unutterable worth. 1. We were created, not a little lower than the angels, but "a little less than God." Such a birthright overwhelms us with magnificent humility even as it elevates us to an honored estate; 2. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son ..." We are worthy of the Son of God dying for us! What higher value can be placed on anything in the entire universe that the Son of God should lay down his life in our behalf?; 3. God has no unwanted children. He makes no mistakes and does not traffic in accidents. It is his cattle on a thousand hills and he knows his sheep by name.

The first man was called Adam. The first woman was called Eve. Our scripture tells us that God creates persons and they are called "precious;" creatures of worth.

Moreover, it also follows that we are a people capable of assuming moral responsibility. How much moral responsibility have we assumed when 1. our natural resources are being depleted at an alarming rate, 2. food surpluses are being destroyed while millions are starving, 3. the crime rate continues to soar and we already have more criminals than we have places to put them, 4. economically, our two main words are still "profit" and "me." And there is another moral question which can no longer be put on the back burner. The question of what moral responsibility do we exercise related to nuclear weapons? It is no longer a question of "what if?" but of "what do we do now?" The hard facts are sobering:

a. a twenty-megaton bomb contains the equivalent of twenty million tons of TNT, or five times the total energy of all the bombs dropped during World War II. By comparison, the Hiroshima bomb produced 13,000 tons of energy.

b. a single such bomb would totally destroy every building and vaporize every person for a radius of six miles. Within twenty miles, persons would be killed instantly and every imaginable object would speed through the air at 100 miles per hour. Over-pressure would burn and demolish everything.

c. persons up to 26 miles away would become instant flaming torches.

d. fire storms would be created for 3,000 square miles.

e. fall-out shelters would have the oxygen sucked from them, lethal fall-out would extend for thousands of square miles and radio-activity would linger for months or years.

That is one twenty-megaton bomb. This country presently has enough nuclear weapons to overkill every Russian forty times. Russia has the capacity to overkill every American twenty times. Again, "God had in wisdom created a people capable of assuming a moral responsibility." We no longer have the luxury of acting irresponsibly. A covenant binds both parties to certain obligations.

Rev. David Chadwell posed a rather interesting question: Which would you prefer for a next-door neighbor: a person of excellent habits or a person with a good heart? Which would you prefer for a good friend: a person of excellent habits, or a person with a good heart? Which would you prefer for a husband or a wife: a person of excellent habits, or a person with a good heart? Which would you prefer for a child: a child with excellent habits, or a child with a good heart?

It is wonderful to have a neighbor who conscientiously cares for his property while respecting your property. It is wonderful to have a friend who always treats you with consideration. It is wonderful to be married to a husband who always is thoughtful and courteous, or to a wife who always is gracious in her comments and deeds. It is wonderful to have a son or daughter who shows respect and uses good manners.

As wonderful as those situations are, none of them compare to having a neighbor, a friend, a husband, a wife, a son, or a daughter with a good heart.

When you discuss good behavior, you are discussing the quality of a person's self-control. When you discuss a good heart, you are discussing the quality of the person.

This is the focus of today's Scripture. Pharisees and teachers have come down from Jerusalem and, interestingly, they are gathered around Jesus watching the disciples. The disciples, it seems, are eating lunch. They have come in from the day's work. Too tired and too hungry to care that their hands and faces were dirty, they immediately sat down to eat without washing.

The Pharisees cease upon this ceremonial oversight and question Jesus: Why don't your disciples live according to the traditions of the elders and clean their hands before they eat? This is all that Jesus needs to hear. He sticks up for his disciples, turns on these teachers and says in essence, "Why do you not live according to the traditions of God and clean your hearts?"

What mistake did these Pharisees make? What is Jesus trying to convey, not only to them, but to us as well. For you see, it is just as easy for us to fall into a good habit and leave behind a good heart. What is Jesus' warning to us?

1. We prefer creeds rather than deeds.
2. We look at the outside not the inside.
3. But God requires good Creeds, Deeds, and Hearts.

It is generally thought that their name came from Zadok, who was the high priest under David, or possibly a later Zadok. The group by this name first appeared in the 2nd century BC and disappeared in the 1st century AD after the destruction of the temple in 70. There would be no need for temple priests if there were no temple.

According to Josephus as reported by the Harper's Dictionary of the Bible, "the Sadducees are said to reject the immortality of the soul, to attribute all human activity to free will and none to fate (or providence), and to reject other traditions, especially those of the Pharisees."

The article goes on to state:

The Sadducees were influential with only a few wealthy families and not with the people, who followed the Pharisees' interpretation of the law.... [they] were boorish in their social interactions,... they encouraged conflict with rather than respect for their teachers, were more stern than the Pharisees in recommending punishments for crimes, and ... aroused Herod's suspicions because they supported the Hasmoneans against him. From this data many commentators have surmised that the Sadducees were mostly priests and wealthy, powerful community leaders who sat in the Sanhedrin, were greatly hellenized (i.e., influenced by Greek culture), and cultivated good relationships with the Romans. [p. 891]

Have I told you the story of the three executives who were sitting around trying to define the word "fame" what it meant to arrive?

One of them said "fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President. That's got to be the ultimate expression of fame you've arrived."

"No, that's not what fame is", the second one said, "fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President, and when the hotline rings, he doesn't even get up to answer it. He just lets it ring! When that happens, you have really arrived."

"No," said the third executive. "That's not it. Fame is being invited to the White House for a visit with the President, and when the hotline rings, he does answer it, but he listens for a moment, and then he says, 'Here, this call is for you.'"

Go back to our scripture lesson. People were full of expectation looking for the Messiah and many of them felt that John the Baptist was the Messiah. Let's read verses 15 and 16 again. "As the people were in expectation, and all men questioned in their hearts concerning John, whether perhaps he were the Christ, John answered them all, "I baptize you with water; but he who is mightier than I is coming, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire."

Here is one of the most telling pictures of John. He knew who he was. He was not the Messiah he was the forerunner. It's never easy to play that role ,forerunner, or an even lesser role suggested by the expression, "playing second fiddle". You know where that metaphor comes from. It comes from the orchestra. Apart from the conductor, First Violinist is the most important person in the Orchestra. Only one sits in that chair and plays that role. All the rest "play second fiddle".

According to an account in the New York Times, it was just before Christmas several years ago that David Storch, a music teacher, borrowed a copy of the score of Handel's "Messiah" from the Brooklyn Public Library. Through a clerical error, however, the transaction was not recorded. There were several other requests for the score, and the library staff, unaware that it had been checked out, spent many hours searching in vain for it through the stacks. On the day that Storch returned it, placing it on the circulation desk, he was astonished to hear the librarian spontaneously, joyously, and loudly shout, "The 'Messiah' is here! The 'Messiah' is back!" Every head in the library turned toward the voice, but, alas, as the Times reported, "A few minutes later everyone went back to work."

A wry story, but also a parable of the often dashed expectations of those who wait for God. Someone cries, "Peace, peace," but there is no peace. Another says, "Comfort, comfort," but there is little comfort. "Come, thou long-expected Jesus," goes the prayerful hymn, and heads turn in a moment of curious interest, then, seeing nothing, go back to work. And so, weary of waiting on a God who does not come, we lower our horizons, fold our hands in prayer to more tangible gods to give us purpose, and turn to more immediate and reliable resources for hope. We build shiny sanctuaries of glass and steel where we can celebrate "possibility thinking" and the other human potentials, which we hope will save us from our self-doubt, if not our sins. We fill the silos and the skies with ever more potent weapons of destruction, which we hope will save us from each other. And we summon the elixirs of modern medicine to save us from disease, aging, and finally from death. In short, tired of waiting for the one true God, we create our own, molded in our own image.

Have you ever been in a heated argument with someone and couldn't let the matter drop? You just had to continue making your point. Why? Because you had to have the last word.

If you have ever been in a classroom discussion, you have discovered the importance of that class reaching some sort of resolution and conclusion to the discussion. Students will often look to the teacher to settle the matter. The teacher has the last word.

If you ever watched Ted Koppel on the late night television show Nightline, you saw him struggle with trying to be fair in dealing with two or more opposing points of view. It is also obvious how important it is to have the last word on that show. The last one to speak always seems to have the most lasting impact.

To have the last word is to be the final authority. To have the last word is to have the most power. To have the last word means that you are in control, that you are the boss. Ask any coach, teacher, manager, CEO, or parent and they will tell you that having the last word is what they are all about.

However we might think that a king is an old-fashioned and irrelevant image for an authority figure for the late twentieth century (and that is probably accurate!), nevertheless, before we throw this day out of our liturgical calendar, we ought to get behind the historical cobwebs of a king and look instead at what the tradition of the church is really trying to communicate with this day of Christ the King.

Perhaps "King" isn't a helpful way to talk about Jesus in this day and age, but if we think of a king as someone who has the last word, who is the final authority and power in life, then celebrating Christ as King might begin to make more sense.

John W. Gardner, founding chairman of Common Cause, said it's a rare and high privilege to help people understand the difference they can make not only in their own lives, but also in the lives of others, simply by giving of themselves.

Gardner tells of a cheerful old man who asked the same question of just about every new acquaintance he fell into conversation with: "What have you done that you believe in and you are proud of?"

He never asked conventional questions such as "What do you do for a living?" It was always, "What have you done that you believe in and are proud of?"

It was an unsettling question for people who had built their self-esteem on their wealth or their family name or their exalted job title.

Not that the old man was a fierce interrogator. He was delighted by a woman who answered, "I'm doing a good job raising three children;" and by a cabinetmaker who said, "I believe in good workmanship and practice it;" and by a woman who said, "I started a bookstore and it's the best bookstore for miles around."

"I don't really care how they answer," said the old man. "I just want to put the thought into their minds.

"They should live their lives in such a way that they can have a good answer. Not a good answer for me, but for themselves. That's what' s important."

Note: This is a good illustration but an even better ministry tool to work into your pastorate. Make it part of the way you access people's lives and get them to think critically about what matters. And, where people really have an answer, use that as a chance for you as their pastor to show pride in them. Affirm their good and meaningful works.

We get this comforting idea that if we follow the Messiah life will somehow be smoother, or at least all fit together in some "good" way. Then we run smack into the reality that the only guarantee Jesus made to us had to do with the activities that come after this life. In fact, Jesus very clearly expected that his followers would have a harder time getting through this life than those who walked away. But we still have these expectations of a "Savior" and when Jesus doesn't meet them we begin to wonder if he is really who we thought he was. There are thousands of empty church pews that used to be full of people who believed in Jesus Christ. But then he didn't live up to their expectations and they went home. Their families still fought, they still had some frightening decisions to make, and they still couldn't make ends meet on a budget. They began to wonder if they had made a mistake with Jesus.

Maybe that's what happened to John. He said that he had come to baptize with water, and that the one following him would baptize with "fire from heaven." So where was the fire? So far there wasn't even smoke. So far, the Pharisees and Sadducees were still in charge of the faith, and Rome was still in charge of the government. In fact, instead of bringing in the kingdom, Jesus had kept pretty quiet up north while John got himself arrested and thrown into one of Herod's dungeons on a mountaintop down by the Dead Sea. That might make a person ask some questions. Is this any way for a Messiah to behave?

At least I hope that's what happened with John. If John the Baptist, as high up as he ranked, still had some questions, maybe there is room for me and mine.

Well-known biblical scholar and translator, J. B. Phillips, has lamented that many Christians today are living on the spiritual capital of the past a spiritual capital that is rapidly being depleted. Says the Rev. Dr. Phillips, "Our society ... bears all the marks of a God-starved community. There is little real moral authority because no ultimate Authority is known or acknowledged. "As a result, says Dr. Phillips, many see little purpose in life. "Most ... hold on, without much reason or authority to the moral standards of what is commonly supposed to be the good life." Consequently, many of us become locked into a comfortable materialism and cozy agnosticism.  But that is not the way of the Spirit. It is the advocate of truth, willing to do its work with men and women open to it.

Jesus' mandate to his disciples is to travel lightly and keep moving. Nowhere do we see him sitting down with the twelve and a map, or a snakebite kit, or a store of provisions, or a feasibility study, or a specific set of "goals,""strategies" and "objectives." Jesus gives the disciples (at times as confused and uncomprehending a lot as ever there has been) only what they need most: a mission and the authority to carry it out. All he recommends they take in addition to this is a walking stick a personal goad to keep them moving when the terrain gets rough or when they get weary.

Today the church would never dream of starting on such a significant journey without what we now envision as "adequate provisions." Yet for all our carefully considered plans, it is doubtful that we are ever as prepared as either David or the disciples for what the future may offer. David was prepared through his willingness to sit before the Lord in prayer. The disciples were prepared through their certainty that they went out with the matchless authority of Jesus.

Does the church have confidence in that authority or in that power of humble prayers? Does the church, in fact, even remember that it is called to embody a mission, not just live out a survival plan?

Maybe we need to rethink sin. Maybe we need to think of sin in broader categories than just "bad things done" or "good things left undone." Maybe the most uncomplicated definition of sin we could give would be our inclination to take the easy way out.

Our gospel text for today offers a good way to assess our new definition. The devil offers Jesus temptations which seem, on the surface, harmless enough. They are certainly not temptations to do evil. The devil is just encouraging Jesus to take the easy road in order to show the world that he really is the Son of God. Look, again, at these "harmless" temptations.

"Command this stone to become a loaf of bread." Temptation number one. Not a bad idea, really. Think about it. A lot of good could come from such a move. Changing stones to bread could move the world in a giant leap toward feeding the hungry masses. Thousands of lives could be saved. Isn't that worth some consideration? Think of the children we see with distended bellies. Think of the mothers who are too weak to feed their own children. Bread-making from stones could feed the world. Isn't God concerned with the hungry?

Or what about that second temptation? "Worship me," says the devil, "and to you I will give all authority over all earthly kingdoms."

Now, don't dismiss this one too quickly, either. There are some real possibilities here. Think about what it would mean if Jesus really were in charge around here. If Jesus had control, there would be no need for nuclear weapons of destruction. Wealth and resources would be shared more equitably. We wouldn't need a United Nations Peace Keeping Force to ensure the fair sharing of food supplies. It would be done, by Jesus, who had the power to make it happen. It's a plan that deserves some thought.

And what about that third temptation? "Jesus, throw yourself down from here" and let God perform a dramatic rescue. Again, think of the consequences. If Jesus did this, it would show that God can be manipulated to do what we want and what we need. It would show us once and for all that he really is here for us. And think of the consequences for Jesus' following.

Do you see the point of these three examples? The temptations were so subtle. And we could easily rationalize the outcomes! These "harmless" temptations could lead to Jesus being King of the World immediately and easily -- no more preaching to crowds on hillsides or by lakes, no more healing all those sick bodies, no more teaching to those who seem not to understand, and, most important of all, no cross to bear. It would have been the easy way out and it would have lead away from Calvary and death – but it also would have led away from Easter morning, and an empty tomb, and the death of death and sin, and the end of that real kingdom Jesus tried so desperately to explain to his followers.

The temptation of Jesus was to choose another way other than the cross. Maybe ... maybe that is our temptation too.

The parable of the Good Samaritan arises out of a discussion between Jesus and a Pharisee. Here is a religious lawyer and he is asking a question on the nature of the law. The stage is set by Luke with these words: "Behold a lawyer stood up to put him to the test." Well, it's not the first time and probably won't be the last time that a lawyer phrased a trick question. It was the kind of question in which any kind of an answer would pose still further problems. It was a test question: "Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life." Now right away we know that this man was a Pharisee, because the Pharisees believed in eternal life and the Sadducees did not. Jesus could tell that this man was an astute student of the law so he asked him: "What is written?" In other words, use your own mind to discern the essence of the law. Jesus, like a good discussion leader, throws the question right back in his lap.

The lawyer had a good answer. He said: "You shall love the Lord your God with all of your heart and soul and mind and strength and you shall love your neighbor as yourself." This was a direct quote from Deuteronomy 6. It was part of the Shema, a confession regularly made in Jewish worship. Jesus says: "Excellent. You are correct." If he were a teacher I suppose he would have said: "You get A+." I have no complaint with this says Jesus. Do this and you shall live. You have not only penetrated to the essence of the law but you have worded it succinctly.

The question had been asked and the answer given. You would think that the man would be pleased and go home. But lawyers are never happy. A lawyer's responsibility is to define the limits of liability. "But he, desiring to justify himself, asked ‘Who is my neighbor.'" In other words, where does my responsibility stop? Who exactly am I responsible for?"

At this point, instead of further defining the question, Jesus tells a story. A way of indirect teaching.

A certain rich man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho. We can surmise that this man was probably a Jew because this was a road going right through the heart of Judea. He had probably been up to Jerusalem to worship and now he's going back to the City of Palm Trees. It was a very long serpentine road starting at Jerusalem, the highest point, 2,500 feet above sea level, and going straight down to Jericho, nearly 800 feet below Sea Level. The lowest place on the face of the earth not covered by water the deepest city in the world.

The Jericho Road was a notoriously thief-infested stretch of rocky mountain road, a long, lonely seventeen miles crowded with caves and danger. Since the road was so often traveled by religious pilgrims and businessmen and because it was so crooked, robbers frequented the road often. In fact, the route was so ripe for pillage that it had been nicknamed "The Bloody Pass". By the time you rounded a bend the bandits were there and you really had no chance to escape. I suppose if there had been newspapers it would not have been unusual to read about the latest mugging on the Jericho Road.

And so, too, the particular traveler in Jesus story fell victim. He was ambushed, robbed, beaten, stripped, and left to die in a pool of crimson red. Now, the question in the story is who is going to stop and help? Who is it that will not fall prey to the temptation to pass by on the other side?

1. The Priest Passes By
2. The Levite Passes By
3. The Samaritan Stops

Jesus and his disciples ventured into the District of Caesarea Philippi, an area about 25 miles northeast of the Sea of Galilee. The region had tremendous religious implications. The place was littered with the temples of the Syrian gods. Here also was the elaborate marble temple that had been erected by Herod the Great, father of the then ruling Herod Antipas. Here also was the influence of the Greek gods. Here also the worship of Caesar as a God himself. You might say that the world religions were on display in this town. It was with this scene in the background that Jesus chose to ask the most crucial questions of his ministry.

He looked at his disciples and in a moment of reflection said: "Who do men say that I am?" The disciples begin sharing with Jesus what they have heard from the people who have been following Jesus: Some say that you are Elijah; others say John the Baptist, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets. It's always been this way, Jesus as seen by the masses is seen in so many different ways.

You can speak of Jesus as prophet, holy man, teacher, or spiritual leader, and few will object. But speak of Him as Son of God, divine, of the same nature as the Father, and people will line up to express their disapproval.

A billion Muslims will say: "Prophet, yes. God, no!" Jews scattered around the world will say: "Teacher, yes. Messiah, no!" Liberal Protestants and religionists of various stripes will say: "Exemplary man, yes. Divine, no!" Who do people say he is? Who do you say he is? And what are we called to do? Let's take a look at the answers to these three question:

1. Who do men say that I am?
2. Who do you say that I am?
3. What is the church called to do?

Do you feel insecure as we enter this Advent season? You do if your marriage is less than solid. You do if your job is at risk. You might if you have medical problems. If you have lost a loved-one in the last year, insecurity could be part of your grief.

Pastor James Moore of Houston Texas tells a story about a young man whose wife had died, leaving him with a small son. Back home from the cemetery, they went to bed early because there was nothing else he could bear to do.

As he lay there in the darkness grief-stricken and heartbroken, the little boy broke the stillness from his little bed with a disturbing question, "Daddy, where is mommy?"

The father got up and brought the little boy to bed with him, but the child was still disturbed and restless, occasionally asking questions like "Why isn't she here?" and When is she coming back?"

Finally the little boy said, "Daddy, if your face is toward me, I think I can go to sleep now. And in a little while he was quiet.

The father lay there in the darkness, and then in childlike faith, prayed this prayer: "O God, I don't see how I can survive this. The future looks so miserable. But if your face is toward me, somehow I think I can make it."

That's what the Messiah came to teach us: that God's face is always towards us. Therefore, let the Messiah replace your insecurity this Advent with the following bedrock conviction: God and you are in this together. Nothing can happen that God and you together cannot manage. Nothing will ever be able to separate you from his love. Now, that's real security.

George Frederick Handel was dogged with misfortune. He had debt upon debt, despair upon despair. He had a cerebral hemorrhage and was paralyzed on his right side. For four years he could neither walk nor write. The doctors gave up on him. He wrote several operas, but again he fell in debt. At age 60 he thought his life was finished. Then he was challenged by a friend to write a sacred oratorio. He read the Scriptures and decided to work on the Messiah. For 24 days, without eating a crumb, he worked fanatically to produce the Messiah, which many today consider the greatest oratorio ever written.

Peter had fished all night and caught nothing. Jesus asked him to let down his nets for a catch. It seemed foolish to do so, because Peter knew there were no fish to catch. "But at your word," he said, "I will let down the nets" (v. 5).