Jessica Savitch was the first woman to attain the status of a national news anchor. The story of her tortured life was revealed some years ago in the made-for-television movie Almost Golden. Jessica was a gregarious little girl who adored her father, who had always affirmed her. She basked in the light of his blessing until kidney disease took her father from her. From this loss, she never fully recovered. A high school sweetheart introduced her to broadcasting and eventually she co-hosted a musical show for teens; this brought her into the spotlight, where she received the recognition she so desperately sought. She set her goal to become a national news anchorwoman by the age of thirty, a goal in which she eminently succeeded. Yet, the faster she ran, the more she achieved, the more tortured and insecure her life became. Jessica had several failed relationships with men. She was beaten by her lover and one of her husbands committed suicide. She got hooked on booze and cocaine. Her career collapsed suddenly, like a house made of playing cards, when she did her newscast stoned and was fired. Jessica finally surmounted her drug problem and seemed to be getting back on track when the car she was riding in overturned into a Pennsylvania canal on a dark and rainy night.

Jessica Savitch exemplifies the thousands who are driven by the profound need to receive a blessing from their father, mother or other significant person in their life. No matter how high she soared, it was never high enough. How tragic and driven life can be when we fail to realize the blessing of our Father in heaven. That blessing calms our anxious hearts with the assurance that we are accepted just as we are.

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

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

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

Ascension Day is not really about the power of Jesus vanishing into heaven. It's about having that power unleashed into all the earth. While on earth, Jesus affected those right around him. After he ascended, this powerful presence was unleashed on the whole globe, the whole cosmos. One theologian (Walter Wink) once noted that killing Jesus was like trying to destroy a dandelion seed-head by blowing on it (Yancey, The Jesus I Never Knew, 226). Christ was the light of the world all right, but "now that light, as if hitting a prism, would fracture and shoot out in a human spectrum of waves and colors" (Yancey, 228). There is "no place that we can go to flee from his presence" (Psalm 139), nowhere we can go to separate ourselves from God's love (Rom. 8).

It was Julian of Norwich who wrote those inspired words that 'all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.' They are words that are particularly poignant because they sum up the transformation in the followers of Jesus that we celebrate on Ascension Day, for on this day, strange as it may seem, we celebrate Christ's leaving his disciples. But his leaving them is not a somber occasion. It is full of joy and hope and reminds us how their lives had changed, of how they had come to trust in God's ultimate purpose for them and believe that all will indeed be well because Christ will always be with them.

When men were still traveling to the moon there was an astronaut, named David Scott, who looked up into the heavens at the planet he was from. As he stepped outside his spacecraft, on to the moon's surface, he said, "I can look straight up and see the earth." At the same time, millions of Americans heard these words on their radios and TV's and could look straight up to see the moon. From the moon above, you could look "up" and see the earth below. And from the earth below, you could look "up" and see the moon above.

As Christ ascends to heaven we look up. It is the end of his earthy ministry. As he ascends he looks down. It is the beginning of our ministry, in his name.

In his book, Loving Jesus, Mark Allen Powell offers this metaphor: Somebody once asked me, "What does it feel like to be a Christian?" That seemed like an odd question, but I tried to answer. I said, "It feels like being in love with someone who has gone away." They said, "That can't be very pleasant." Well, no, I don't think it's supposed to be pleasant, but it is pretty powerful. I am in love with my wife, and when she is gone, I think about her constantly. I perk up at any news of her and I am energized by the slightest connection (a letter, a phone call). That's what being a Christian "feels like." Of course, it is a confident sadness, but let's just admit this much: we love Jesus as a bride loves her groom, but our bridegroom has been taken away from us, and that makes us sad. The love can be real and powerful and overwhelming, but the absence is real too. And, sometimes, it's just hard. (p. 55, italics in original)

I am the least of the apostles. 1 Cor 15:9

I am the very least of all the saints. Eph 3:8

I am the foremost of sinners. 1 Tim 1:15

Humility and a passion for praise are a pair of characteristics which together indicate growth in grace. The Bible is full of self-humbling (man bowing down before God) and doxology (man giving praise to God). The healthy heart is one that bows down in humility and rises in praise and adoration. The Psalms strike both these notes again and again. So too, Paul in his letters both articulates humility and breaks into doxology. Look at his three descriptions of himself quoted above, dating respectively from around A.D. 59, 63, and 64. As the years pass he goes lower; he grows downward! And as his self-esteem sinks, so his rapture of praise and adoration for the God who so wonderfully saved him rises.

Undoubtedly, learning to praise God at all times for all that is good is a mark that we are growing in grace. One of my predecessors in my first parochial appointment died exceedingly painfully of cancer. But between fearful bouts of agony, in which he had to stuff his mouth with bedclothes to avoid biting his tongue, he would say aloud over and over again: "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth" (Ps. 34:1). That was a passion for praise asserting itself in the most poignant extremity imaginable.

Cultivate humility and a passion for praise if you want to grow in grace.

A Christian salesman was in a strange town over the weekend, so on Sunday morning he went to the church closest to his hotel. He noticed that the worship was a little different but soon became so inspired by the sermon that at one point he just couldn’t control himself and shouted out loud, "Hallelujah!" as he had been accustomed to doing in his home church.

Not noticing the stares of his fellow worshipers, he shouted, "Praise the Lord!" when another stirring sentence came along. After this second outburst, an usher came forward, tapped the man on the shoulder, and whispered sternly, "Nobody can praise the Lord in this church!"

A Christian should be an Hallelujah from head to toe. Long faces, stooped shoulders, the downward glance are products of a life foreign to Christianity. Much of the church must begin to realize that Christianity is more than breast beating and pious pretense.

At Pentecost, spirit came into the church. POW! The Holy Spirit arrived in full power. God rocked that band of fearful, squeaky, sometime-followers right out of their inactivity. Out they came from behind locked doors - right into the streets - telling about Jesus.

The placenta was now broken, the labor subsided and the church was born. Peter and John stood in the market place telling everyone who would listen that Jesus was the Lord. And nobody and nothing except death itself could quiet them.

Hey Christians, listen! Our God is a happening God. He belongs to the living present, the passing moment, the now. His powerful Spirit wants to make its impact upon our lives. God wants to happen in us.

Let him in and your whole being will "Praise the Lord!"

An ancient legend tells us that when the Great Lord of All Being created all things - animals, birds, mountains, seas, and human persons - when he finished his work, there was only silence. No sound was anywhere. The angels, having examined the creation, reported to the Great Creator that, to be complete, it needed the sound of the Creator's praise. So then the Lord God put a song in the throats of birds, gave a murmur to running brooks, gave the wind a voice to whisper as it moved among the trees, and put a melody in the heart of humankind.

In worship here today let's let the sound of God's praise be heard. Let us joyously participate in creation's song of praise; let us supply some of that without which creation is incomplete. Don't be timid about it, the psalmist says - "O bless our God, you people, and make the voice of his praise to be heard!"

Let us then give voice to the melody that is implanted within us. Let it be heard - from our lips and from our hearts, in our singing and in our living, now and always.

Let your actions praise the Lord. Praise is something you do more than something you say. It is an act of kindness which demonstrates that you are a child of God. You can worship God better with your life than with your words. The New Testament book of James says we will be judged at the end of time on whether or not we are doing what Christ wants us to do.

Faith without works is dead. Sure we are saved by faith in Jesus Christ, but true faith produces good works. To say, "Jesus, I love you," and then go through life without showing it, helps absolutely no one. When we stand before the Lord on Judgment Day, he’ll ask us, "What have you done? What do you have to show for your life? How have you served me and my church?" And if we respond, "Well Lord, I was planning on it, but you know how busy I was all week, and the weekend was about the only time I had for myself. I enjoyed church when I went, and I tried to lead a good life. Lord, I didn’t ask for the heart attack ... I really didn’t expect to die so soon." Then the Lord is going to say, "I’m sorry. You didn’t have time for me and my work in your life now I don’t have time for you in death."

Albert Schweitzer once said, "If there is something you own that you can’t give away, then you don’t own it, it owns you." What owns you? What makes you tick? What is important enough in life to keep us awake at night thinking about it? If we call Jesus Christ our Lord and really mean it, he must be number one in our life. God’s revealed truth in Christ must be the one thing that owns us. We must constantly desire to get really close to Jesus. And in our quest, our Bible must wind up with fingerprints all over it. Our presence in church must be weekly, and our contribution to God’s work must be felt and known because it’s so evident.

Let us begin each day with the words, "Lord what will you have me do today? Fill my mind with your mind." Only then can we go about our day giving praise to him, especially in our doing.

It was a spectacular fall day when the leaves in the Pennsylvania mountains were at their zenith of color. Robert Raines drove up the mountain road higher and higher with the scenery becoming ever more vast and spectacular.  Just as he reached the top of the mountain, he spotted a car parked just off the road. Curious, he stopped.  A man was standing about two hundred yards away on the side of the mountain overlooking a wondrous sea of color.  The man had a trumpet lifted to his lips.  Do you know what he was playing?  It was the doxology.  "Praise God from whom all blessings flow.  Praise Him all creatures here below.  Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.  Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." 

I'd like to know that trumpet player.  He could teach me two things.  One, I need to be more aware of the untold blessings of God in my life.  Two, I need to be bold in expressing my gratitude to god and to others.  I need to forget what others might think and play my trumpet to the sky when joy and thanksgiving wail up within.

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. "This horse is not a horse to me," he would tell them. "It is a person.  How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?" The man was poor, and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. "You old fool," they scoffed, "we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you've been cursed with misfortune."

The old man responded, "Don't speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I've been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?"

The people contested, "Don't make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact is that your horse is gone, and you are cursed."

The old man spoke again. "All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don't know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can't say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?"

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn't, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. he lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn't been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. "Old man, you were right, and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us."

The man responded, "Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don't judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?

"Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment! Don't say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don't."

"Maybe the old man is right," they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.

"You were right," they said. "You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever."

The old man spoke again. "You people are obsessed with judging. Don't go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments."

It so happened that a few weeks later, the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming, because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

"You were right, old man," they wept. "God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son's accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever."

The old man spoke again. "It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this: Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows."

Early one morning some years ago, Robert Raines got into his car and started driving through the mountains. There was no one on the road (at that time) as the mountains were quietly beginning a new day. The beautiful colors of autumn were splashed all over the trees. It was a magnificent and glorious sight as the early morning sun glistened upon the wonders of the mountains and the valleys below.

And then it happened… Robert Raines saw one of the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed in his life.

Right there at the very edge of that great mountain peak and facing the gorgeous valley below… was a young man in his early twenties with a trumpet pressed to his lips. And, do you know what he was playing? With his lungs expanded fully and releasing all of the energy in his soul, he was playing the Doxology on his trumpet!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly host
Praise, Father, Son and Holy Ghost!

The point is clear: With all the stresses and problems in this life, still the truth is:

- We have so many doxologies to sing,
- So much to be grateful for,
- So many blessings to count.

The point is: Life is more than a grueling endurance test. Life is more than a survival game. Life is more than a coping competition.

So, you see… it's not enough to just escape the stress. It's not enough to just endure the stress. Thank God… there is another option…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To worship God is to recognize his worth or worthiness; to look God-ward, and to acknowledge in all appropriate ways the value of what we see. The Bible calls this activity "glorifying God" or "giving glory to God," and views it as the ultimate end, and from one point of view, the whole duty of man (Ps. 29:2; 96:6; 1 Cor. 10:31).

Scripture views the glorifying of God as a sixfold activity: praising God for all that he is and all his achievements; thanking him for his gifts and his goodness to us; asking him to meet our own and others' needs; offering him our gifts, our service, and ourselves; learning of him from his word, read and preached, and obeying his voice; telling others of his worth, both by public confession and testimony to what he has done for us. Thus we might say that the basic formulas of worship are these: "Lord, you are wonderful"; "Thank you, Lord"; "Please Lord"; "Take this, Lord"; "Yes, Lord"; "Listen everybody!"

This then is worship in its largest sense: petition as well as praise, preaching as well as prayer, hearing as well as speaking, actions as well as words, obeying as well as offering, loving people as well as loving God. However, the primary acts of worship are those which focus on God directly and we must not imagine that work for God in the world is a substitute for direct fellowship with him in praise and prayer and devotion.

Becoming good at the things that build inner confidence and calm takes practice and a dash of creativity! The following list might provide some cloudseeding for a brainstorm or two of your own:

1. Pay off your credit cards.
2. Take off ten pounds or accept where you are without any more complaints.
3. Eat dinner together as a family for seven days in a row.
4. Take your wife on a dialogue date (no movie, guys).
5. Read your kids a classic book (Twain's a good start).
6. Memorize the Twenty-third Psalm as a family.
7. Give each family member a hug for twenty-one days in a row (that's how long the experts say it takes to develop a habit).
8. Pick a night of the week in which the television will remain unplugged.
9. Go out for a non-fast food dinner as a family.
10. Pray for your spouse and children every day.
11. Plan a vacation together.
12. Take a vacation together.
13. Read a chapter from the Bible every day until it becomes a habit.
14. Sit together as a family in church.
15. Surprise your teenager. Wash his car and fill up his gas tank.
16. Take an afternoon off from work; surprise your child by excusing him from school and taking him to a ball game.
17. Take a few hours one afternoon and go to the library as a family.
18. Take a walk as a family.
19. Write each member of your family a letter sharing why you value them.
20. Give your spouse a weekend getaway with a friend (same gender!) to a place of their choice.
21. Go camping as a family.
22. Go to bed early (one hour before your normal bedtime) every day for a week.
23. Take each of your children out to breakfast (individually) at least once a month for a year.
24. Turn down a promotion that would demand more time from your family than you can afford to give.
25. Religiously wear your seat belts.
26. Get a complete physical.
27. Exercise a little every day for a month.
28. Make sure you have adequate life insurance on both you and your spouse.
29. Write out information about finances, wills, and important business information that your spouse can use to keep things under control in the event of your death.
30. Make sure your family car is safe (tires, brakes, etc.) and get it tuned up.
31. Replace the batteries in your smoke alarm.
32. Put a security system in your house.
33. Attend the parent/teacher meetings of each child as a couple.
34. Help your kids with their homework.
35. Watch the kids on Saturday while your wife goes shopping (but if a friend calls, don't say that you're "babysitting").
36. Explain to your spouse exactly what you do for a living.
37. Put together a picture puzzle. (One thousand pieces or more.)
38. Take time during the week to read a Bible story to your children and then discuss it with them.
39. Encourage each child to submit to you his most perplexing question, and promise him that you'll either answer it or discuss it with him.
40. Finish fixing something around the house.
41. Tell your kids how you and your spouse met.
42. Tell your kids about your first date.
43. Sit down and write your parents a letter thanking them for a specific thing they did for you. (Don't forget to send it!)
44. Go on a shopping spree where you are absolutely committed to buying nothing.
45. Keep a prayer journal for a month. Keep track of the specific ways that God answers your needs.
46. Do some stargazing away from the city with your family. Help your children identify constellations and conclude the evening with prayer to the majestic God who created the heavens.
47. Treat your wife to a beauty make-over (facial, manicure, haircut, etc.). I hear they really like this.
48. Give the kids an alternative to watching Saturday morning cartoons (breakfast at McDonald's, garage sales, the park, chores, etc.).
49. Ask your children each day what they did at school (what they learned, who they ate lunch with, etc.).
50. After you make your next major family decision, take your child back through the process and teach him how you arrived at your decision.
51. Start saying to yourself "My car doesn't look so bad."
52. Call you wife or husband from work just to see how they're doing.
53. Compile a family tree and teach your children the history of their ancestors.
54. Walk through an old graveyard with your children.
55. Say no to at least one thing a day even if it's only a second piece of pie.
56. Write that letter to the network that broadcast the show you felt was inappropriate for prime-time viewing.
57. Turn off the lights and listen to a "praise" tape as you focus your thoughts on the Lord.
58. Write a note to your pastor praising him for something.
59. Take back all the books in your library that actually belong in someone else's library.
60. Give irritating drivers the right to pull in front of you without signaling and yelling at them.
61. Make every effort to not let the sun go down on your anger.
62. Accept legitimate criticism from your wife or a friend without reacting or defending yourself.
63. If your car has a Christian bumper sticker on in drive like it.
64. Do a Bible study on the "wise man" and the "fool" in Proverbs...and then apply what it takes to be wise to your life.
65. Make a list of people who have hurt your feelings over the past year...then check your list to see if you've forgiven them.
66. Make a decision to honor your parents, even if they made a career out of dishonoring you.
67. Take your children to the dentist and doctor for your wife.
68. Play charades with your family, but limit subjects to memories of the past.
69. Do the dishes for your wife.
70. Schedule yourself a free day to stay home with your family.
71. Get involved in a family project that serves or helps someone less fortunate.
72. As a family, get involved in a recreational activity.
73. Send your wife flowers.
74. Spend an evening going through old pictures from family vacations.
75. Take a weekend once a year for you and your spouse to get away and renew your friendship.
76. Praise your spouse and children in their presence to someone else.
77. Discuss a world or national problem, and ask your children for their opinion on it.
78. Wait up for your teenagers when they are out on dates.
79. Have a "quiet Saturday" (no television, no radio, no stereo...no kidding).
80. If your children are little, spend an hour playing with them but let them determine the game.
81. Have your parents tell your children about life when they were young.
82. Give up soap operas.
83. De-clutter your house.
84. If you have a habit of watching late night television, but have to be to work early every morning, change your habit.
85. Don't accept unnecessary breakfast appointments.
86. Write missionaries regularly.
87. Go through your closets and give everything that you haven't worn in a year to a clothing relief organization.
88. Become a faithful and frequent visitor of your church's library.
89. Become a monthly supporter of a Third World child.
90. Keep mementos, school projects, awards, etc. of each child in separate files. You'll appreciate these when they've left the nest.
91. Read the biography of a missionary.
92. Give regularly and faithfully to conscientious church endeavors.
93. Place with your will a letter to each family member telling why you were glad you got to share life with him or her.
94. Go through your old records and tapes and discard any of them that might be a bad testimony to your children.
95. Furnish a room (or a corner of a room) with comfortable chairs and declare it the "disagreement corner." When conflicts arise, go to this corner and don't leave until it's resolved.
96. Give each child the freedom to pick his favorite dinner menu at least once a week.
97. Go over to a shut-in's house as a family and completely clean it and get the lawn work done.
98. Call an old friend from your past, just to see how he or she is getting along.
99. Get a good friend to hold you accountable for a specific important need (Bible reading, prayer, spending time with your family, losing a few pounds, etc.).
100.  Establish a budget.
101. Go to a Christian marriage enrichment seminar.

A body is not crippled 'til its heart has ceased to praise. Louis Albert Banks tells of an elderly Christian man, a fine singer, who learned that he had cancer of the tongue and that surgery was required. In the hospital after everything was ready for the operation, the man said to the doctor, "Are you sure I will never sing again?" The surgeon found it difficult to answer his question. He simply shook his head no.

The patient then asked if he could sit up for a moment. "I've had many good times singing the praises of God," he said. "And now you tell me I can never sing again. I have one song that will be my last. It will be of gratitude and praise to God." There in the doctor's presence the man sang softly the words of Isaac Watts' hymn,

"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler power;

My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures."

The war-time song "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition" parallels a truth revealed in a true story of a local Bedford citizen.

During the war this army pilot and his co-pilot and crew were flying a B24. One day its controls jammed as they took off and they skimmed precariously low as they neared the mountains.

The co-pilot folded his arms and said, "Our number is up," but the pilot, helped by the gunner, feverously worked at the controls and finally cleared the controls.

The pilot reports, "I got a transfer to another plane to get rid of the co-pilot. I want no fatalist at my side."

Prayer is not a resignation to fate, but true prayer in Christ's name is employing the power that God makes available for Christian living.

We sing, praise God and pray, but the ammunition to fight life's battles must be employed daily. Prayer is God's channel of power to bless mankind.

We must pray, believe, and work!

Fred Craddock tells a wonderful story about a young minister, newly graduated from seminary, serving his very first church. He gets a call telling him that a church member, elderly woman who has given her life in service to the church, is in the hospital. She's so weak she can't even get up out of bed, and the doctors don't hold much hope for her recovery. Would he go up and visit? Well, of course he will and he does.

All the way to the hospital he's thinking about what he will say to this Christian lady, what words of comfort he can give her to prepare her for her eminent death. He arrives at the hospital, goes up to her room for the visit. He sits and talks with her a few minutes, just small talk really, nothing earth shattering. When he makes ready to leave, he asks if she would like him to have prayer with her. She answers, "Yes, of course. That's why I wanted you to come."

He then asks politely, "And what exactly would you like me to pray for?"

"Why, I want you to pray that God will heal me," she answers in a surprised tone of voice.

Haltingly, fumbling over the words, he prays just as she wanted, that God will heal her, even though he's not really sure that can happen. When he says the "Amen" at the end of the prayer, the woman says, "You know, I think it worked! I think I'm healed!" And she gets out of the bed and begins to run up and down the hallway of the hospital, shouting, "Praise God! I'm healed! Praise God! I'm healed!"

Meanwhile, the young minister, in a stupor, stumbles to the stairwell, walks down five flights of stairs, makes his way to the parking lot and somehow manages to find his car. As he fumbles to get his keys out of his pocket, he looks heavenward and says, "Don't you ever do that to me again!" He had a mountaintop moment, but he didn't know what to do with it!

Most of you don't know the name of the great Christian hymn writer Ira Sankey, who wrote over 200 hymns. He was an associate of Dwight L. Moody. He lived in Brooklyn, New York during the last years of his life. After years of blindness due to age and ill health, he died in 1908. Just before his death, in his blindness and his frailty, he dictated this farewell message: "I have only a little longer of earthly darkness, and then the sunshine of the Father's throne. God is love. Good night, good night."

Those words by a man who left forever his mark on earth by writing great hymns of praise to God tell us something very important about why we have gathered here this Easter Day to celebrate the risen Christ. For Ira Sankey's blind eyes could see God when it mattered the most, as he was passing from this life into the life immortal. He had learned through a lifetime of praise and service to his Lord, that Jesus Christ is that missing piece in human life, and that in the end, God is all that matters.

Chelsey Harmon, of the Center for Excellence in Preaching, tells about an article that appeared in the Southwest Review magazine sometime back. The article was written by Roger Gilbert who reflected on being in a crowd one day with hundreds of other people watching a partial solar eclipse. He reveals that, at the moment the moon became “superimposed” on the sun, “the entire crowd spontaneously burst into applause.”  Then Gilbert made this observation:

“Whom or what were we applauding? We tend to imagine when we applaud at a live performance that the applause is ‘for’ the performers, that its purpose is to communicate our approval to them. But this applause suggested that, in some cases at least, communication is a secondary motive, that applause is first and foremost a way of responding to the elation of a moment.” Think about that phrase for a moment: applause is first and foremost a way of responding to the elation of a moment.”

Chelsey Harmon added the further observation that when the angels burst into praise that first Christmas Eve, she tends to think that their praise for God was like the crowd applauding the magnificence of the solar eclipse. It was an act of elation in response to something quite beautiful and unique. God became a human being.

Someone writing in The Upper Room a few years ago told of a school-days experience when the music teacher drew a profusion of black dots on a white sheet of paper. None of the pupils could make anything of them. Then the teacher drew a few connecting lines, put in a few rests, and a clef at the beginning. It was then seen that the black dots took the form of a musical score. On sounding the notes, the pupils found themselves singing The Doxology: "Praise God from whom all blessings flow ..."

Here in worship we can connect our life's disconnected dots. Daily living is made up of a little of this and a little of that, small events and brief moments that occur now and then along the way. And often it is difficult for us to see that these have any meaning, or, if so, what the meaning is.

In worship we seek a God's-eye view of what we are; we seek to see ourselves as we are seen by him. This is to see our life in perspective and entire - not as a meaningless scattering of random dots on a blank page, but as a musical score that sings "Praise God from whom all blessings flow ..." Then each new day of living, each common task, becomes simply another note in this one majestic song.

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

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

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

There's a great Christmas story about a young boy who was given a very important role in the church Christmas play. He was to be the angel and announce the birth of Jesus. For weeks he rehearsed the line that had been given to him, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy."

The grandparents got in on it and any time the family was together and the boy was there, they would dress him up in his costume and he would rehearse his part for them, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." They were certain that when he grew up, he would be another Charlton Heston playing Moses because of his dramatic ability.

The great night came for the Christmas pageant and everybody was in place. All the grandparents and extended family were there. Visitors had come in and all the children were in costumes, complete with bathrobes for the three kings and fake wings and halos for the angels. All the mothers were excited and everyone was really into this thing.

As the pageant started, the excitement was electric around the room. The dramatic event in the first part was the announcement of the angel, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." The spotlight hit this young boy and as he stood center stage in the middle of all this excitement, his brain froze. Every grandparent, aunt, uncle and neighbor came to the edge of their seats, wanting to say it for him. You could see them in unison, mouthing, "Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy."

Still, his brain was frozen; he couldn't say it. He tried it, but it just wouldn't come. So, finally, in a heroic moment he filled his lungs with breath and blurted out the words, "Have I got news for you!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have noticed that at Thanksgiving time it is difficult for people to give God thanks and praise. You hear people say on that day that they are grateful but that is where it ends. They rarely direct their thankfulness to God. One year my daughter's school had a Thanksgiving day program for the parents. I was so saddened that during the program all they could sing about was "Tom Turkey." You would have thought that it was a poultry holiday.

Not only is it difficult for us to give thanks, but it seems that we can not graciously receive thanks. If we listen carefully to various conversations we will notice that sometimes someone will say, "Thank you," only to have the other person say, "No, thank you." Obviously, giving thanks has become a meaningless exercise for many people. We have reduced it to the level of telling one another to "have a nice day." This is nothing new; in our text Jesus was having the same problem.

So was one young mother who was preparing a dinner party at her home. She had spent all day in preparations for the big event. She was nervous and wanted everything to be just right for her guests. She had cleaned the house from top to bottom, polished the silver, arranged the flowers, and even made little name cards for each guest. Finally, the guests arrived and were eventually seated at the dinner table. The young mother turned to her daughter and asked her to offer the prayer. The daughter said that she did not know what to pray. "Just pray what Mommy would pray," the mother said. The little girl thought for a moment and then prayed, "Dear Lord, why did I invite all these people to dinner?"

During the dark days of slavery in this country, Blacks worked in the cotton fields stripped of their dignity, naked to the waist, and barefoot in the dirt. But the human spirit refuses to be broken. From deep within the Black psyche rose that rebellion spawned by Christian faith and expressed in the music of the soul; the Negro spirituals. In them the note of human dignity is never far from the praise of God.

I got shoes, you got shoes, All of God's chillun got shoes. When I get to heav'n, gonna put on my shoes. I'm gonna walk all over God's heav'n.

What does it mean to sit in the seats of honor at the kingdom table? It means dropping a barefooted slave mentality! It means putting on our heavenly shoes, and walking all over God's heaven and God's good earth, as well. To be an honored guest at the feast of the Lord is to value oneself ultimately.

“The pursuit of happiness."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Wesley was about 21 years of age when he went to Oxford University. He came from a Christian home, and he was gifted with a keen mind and good looks. Yet in those days he was a bit snobbish and sarcastic. One night, however, something happened that set in motion a change in Wesley's heart. While speaking with a porter, he discovered that the poor fellow had only one coat and lived in such impoverished conditions that he didn't even have a bed. Yet he was an unusually happy person, filled with gratitude to God. Wesley, being immature, thoughtlessly joked about the man's misfortunes. "And what else do you thank God for?" he said with a touch of sarcasm.

The porter smiled, and in the spirit of meekness replied with joy, "I thank Him that He has given me my life and being, a heart to love Him, and above all a constant desire to serve Him!" Deeply moved, Wesley recognized that this man knew the meaning of true thankfulness.

Many years later, in 1791, John Wesley lay on his deathbed at the age of 88. Those who gathered around him realized how well he had learned the lesson of praising God in every circumstance. Despite Wesley's extreme weakness, he began singing the hymn, "I'll Praise My Maker While I've Breath."

There is a passage in the old Jewish book of Zohar, that goes like this:

"Whenever the Jews on earth rejoice in their festivals, they give praise to the Lord. They put on fine clothes and pile their tables with good food. So the angel asks, 'Why do the Jews pamper themselves so much?' And God answers, 'They have a distinguished guest today. I am with them.' "Today is a very special day. We are preparing for a very special guest. It is the first Sunday of Advent. Our celebration begins with the word "Emmanuel," which means, "God is with us."

A widely respected man known as "Uncle Johnson" died in Michigan at the incredible age of 120. Perhaps his advanced years could be credited in part to the cheerful outlook that characterized his life. One day while at work in his garden, he was singing songs of praise to God.

His pastor, who was passing by, looked over the fence and called, "Uncle Johnson, you seem very happy today."

"Yes, I was just thinking," said the old man.

"Thinking about what?" questioned his pastor.

"Oh, I was just thinking that if the crumbs of joy that fall from the Master's table in this world are so good, what will the great loaf in glory be like! I tell you, sir, there will be enough for everyone and some to spare up there."

While Josh McDowell was attending seminary in California, his father went Home to be with the Lord. His mother had died years earlier, but Josh was not sure of her salvation. He became depressed, thinking that she might be lost. Was she a Christian or not? The thought obsessed him. "Lord," he prayed, "somehow give me the answer so I can get back to normal. I've just got to know." It seemed like an impossible request.

Two days later, Josh drove out to the ocean. He walked to the end of a pier to be alone. There sat an old woman in a lawn chair, fishing. "Where's your home originally?" she asked.

"Michigan Union City," Josh replied. "Nobody's heard of it. I tell people it's a suburb of " "Battle Creek," interrupted the woman. "I had a cousin from there. Did you know the McDowell family?"

Stunned, Josh responded, "Yes, I'm Josh McDowell!"

"I can't believe it," said the woman. "I'm a cousin to your mother."

"Do you remember anything at all about my mother's spiritual life?" asked Josh. "Why sure your mom and I were just girls teenagers when a tent revival came to town. It was the fourth night we both went forward to accept Christ."

"Praise God!" shouted Josh, startling the surrounding fishermen.

In 1838, after a strong emancipation movement among blacks, slavery was abolished in Jamaica, to take effect on August 1. On the evening of the last day in July a large company of former slaves gathered on the beach for a solemn, yet joyous, occasion. A large mahogany coffin had been constructed and placed on the sand next to an accommodating hole in the beach. All evening the soon-to-be-emancipated slaves placed, with some ceremony, symbols of their enslavement. There were chains, leg-irons, whips, padlocks, and ocher similar symbols of slavery. A few minutes before midnight came the box was lowered into the hole in the beach. Pushing sand into the hole to cover the coffin, all joined their voices with one accord to sing: "Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise him all creatures here below, praise him above ye heavenly host, praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost." They were free from their slavery. How much they were like Christians, who, through Christ’s death are free from their slavery to sin. And how like them are Christians, who in heaven shall be free from the very reminder and presence of sin.

"I don't mind going to work," said Jane, "but climbing those five flights of stairs to the office gets me down."

"I am glad we have an elevator in our building," said Marie, "but I suppose I am just as aggravated when I have to wait or when it gets stuck between floors."

"Well, at least when I want to go home the stairway is always there," said Jane.

"Our trouble is everybody quits at five and they all want the elevator at once," said Marie. "Everybody has their problems, I guess."

Some laws of God are always at work for everybody at the same time. Some apply under certain conditions. Prayer, like the stairway, is available at all times for those who will use it. Like the elevator, some spiritual gifts can only be used at the time they arrive at your level and opportunities come and go.

Millions use the joyous occasion of Easter to praise God for the promise of eternal life but Sunday, which always commemorates the first day of the week as the day on which Christ arose, is often ignored through the year. Prayer is a channel of communication with God but many think of it as a stairway that is difficult to climb. Others desire prayer to be an elevator which arrives on pressing a button. But, if the believer in God would be lifted by God's spirit, he must be willing to make use of the regular opportunities for devotion as well as the special occasions when he wants assistance.

The true Christian understands the spirit of the psalmist who says, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills," as well as, "Come let us go unto the house of the Lord. Let us kneel before the Lord our Maker."

I read that a member of a United Methodist church in North Carolina was once convicted in court for disrupting church services because of his atrocious singing. It was in 1873 that William Linkhaw was hauled into county court in Lumberton, Robeson County, N.C., by fellow Methodists who charged that Linkhaw’s singing repeatedly created havoc during worship services. Not only was his voice offensive to the ear, but he was given to singing long after the rest of the congregation had stopped. Things had become so disconcerting that even the minister refused to sing. Consequently, Linkhaw was found guilty of a misdemeanor and ordered to remain silent in church. However, the state supreme court overturned the conviction, sympathetic to Linkhaw’s claim that singing was a part of his service to God. I was interested in this particular item because I well remember when an old fellow in my home church was asked to surrender his choir robe on the same grounds. As a boy, it struck me as rather ridiculous that those of us in the choir, many of whom could not carry a tune in a wheelbarrow, should presume to single out Mr. X. After all, he was an affable gentlemen who had been a member of the choir for probably fifty years. He was not a person of means and not physically able to participate in the church’s visitation program or serve on any committee. His days were spent sitting at home with his good wife who had been in poor health for as long as I could remember. He could however, do one thing for his church. He could manage to get away for a couple of hours on Sunday morning and sing in the choir. His service though, as precious as it was to him, was no longer appreciated. I suppose the rationale behind the choir’s decision was the Mr. X’s service was no longer "proper."

What is one’s proper service to God? In Isaiah’s day, the supreme service was considered to be "fasting." Widely practiced as a kind of personal purge and expression of humility, fasting was a common experience among the devout throughout the ancient world. The Israelites incorporated fasting in national religious life more prominently after Jerusalem fell to the Babylonians in 586 B.C. Unfortunately, the Jews mistook this particular gesture as a guarantee of spiritual righteousness; a kind of "automatic purification" which placed them blameless before God. Consequently, it was inconceivable to them that hardships would continue following their dedicated "service." When hardships would continue, they felt an explanation was in order: "Why have we fasted and thou seest it not? Why have we humbled ourselves, and thou takest no knowledge of it" (58:3). Listen to God’s answer: "Behold, in the day of your fast you seek your own pleasure, and oppress all your workers. Behold, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to hit with wicked fist. Fasting like yours this day will not make your voice to be heard on high" (58:3, 4). Their service was unacceptable. In a word, it was mechanical; in another word, it was self-serving. In still yet another word, it was presumptuous. The service which God seeks involves the extension of his love for others and in an attitude of praise. In the words of John Wesley, serving God means, "serving neighbors, whether they be friends or adversaries, doing good to every man and willingly hurting no man." Wesley practiced what he preached. He traveled about 225,000 miles, preached about 50,000 times to crowds small and large, often up to 20,000, occasionally facing hostile mobs and barrages of stone and mud. But he had a plucky, game spirit, going on to the next town, leaving his class and "bands" to multiply. The service of outreach performed by Wesley, even with our precise statistics and access to his faithfully kept journals, is measureless.

Isaiah scored the people of Israel for indulging in perfunctory rituals, mistaking them for "service." Instead, he laid down God’s prescription for service: "to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke ... to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him" (58:6-7).

William Linkhaw believed that a part of his service to God was to sing in the church choir. I am inclined to agree with him. His voice may have been off key, but his comprehension of service to God was not. What is your service to God?

On July 23, 2002, nine miners in Western Pennsylvania became trapped in a flooded mine. The injured and desperate men tied themselves together so that the stronger ones could sustain the weaker ones as they waited to be rescued. Journalists from across the nation reported the rescue effort, which took five long days. No one could believe it when all nine miners emerged safely from the mine.

On July 30, the people of the small mining community gathered for a worship service to thank God for saving the miners' lives. At the ceremony, there were ten miners' lamps set up on the altar, even though there were only nine miners. According to the pastor who presided over the worship celebration, the tenth lamp represented God's presence, which the miners claimed they could feel as they waited to be rescued. It was this "10th Man" they honored as they read Psalm 103: "Praise the Lord . . . Who redeems your life from the pit."  Welcome to this celebration of our "tenth man" the One who has rescued us from the pit.

An Open Letter to Family Men:

She was blond and beautiful, with azure eyes and a tumble of tawny curls. At three years of age, she would climb into her daddy's lap, snuggle up with a wide, satisfied smile, and purr, "This is my safe place!" And so it was. Dads, husbands, YOU are the "safe place." You are our protector and provider. And when you gather us for a time with God, we need a safe place. A safe place, not a lecture. A safe place, not a sermon. A very human dad/husband who simply cares about God and us. We don't need or even want a "spiritual giant." We just want you.

Ee need a gathering time (phone unplugged) where it's safe to say to each other, "How are you and the Lord getting along?" "How can we pray today?" We need a safe place to cry laugh, sing, rejoice, challenge, share, and sometimes not to share and have it be okay. We need a time with you that's relaxed unstiff, when we can pray honestly, in simple sentences, from our hearts. Unfixed. Unrigid. Unroutine. Unshackled. We need a place where irregular opinions are respected, and where God has the last word. We need a gentleman leader, not a general. Gracious. Relaxed. Human. A family shepherd who exhibits not infallible authority, but a thirst for God. Every day? Not necessarily. Often? Yes. Long? No. Where? Anywhere. How? Sense where we're at, and zero in. We may need heavy-duty confessing to each other and to God...silent prayer...exuberant praise (try sing-a- long tapes)...Bible study. But not every time.

Thanks for listening, Dad, Husband. Remember, we need you.

Your family.

Back in 1675, some nine years after the terrible fire in London, Sir Christopher Wren himself laid the first foundation stone in what was to be his greatest architectural enterprise—the building of St. Paul’s Cathedral. It took him thirty-five long years to complete this task, and when it was done he waited breathlessly for the reaction of her majesty, Queen Anne. After being carefully shown through the structure, she summed up her feelings for the architecture in three words: “It is awful; it is amusing; it is artificial.”

Imagine how you would feel if words like these were used to describe the work of your life! However, Sir Christopher Wren’s biographer said that on hearing these words, he heaved a sigh of relief and bowed gratefully before his sovereign. How could this be? The explanation is simple: In 1710, the word awful meant “awe-inspiring,” the word amusing meant “amazing,” and the word artificial meant “artistic.” What to our ears might sound like a devastating criticism were in that time words of measured praise.

There is no doubt a lesson in that story for those who would quibble over the relative merits of the various Bible versions and translations. Shades of meaning cannot alter what God has revealed in his Word!

Silhouetted figures made their way to the tomb as the first sliver of light graced the darkened earth. Jesus was dead. They still couldn’t believe it. It was like a bad dream of grand proportions. The ring of hammer upon nail still echoed in their ears; the horrendous sight of crucified bodies was burned indelibly into their brains. With him had died the hopes of eleven broken men. The sun had set on their lives, plunging them into forever darkness. Men and women who loved him, who believed in him, had their hopes raised to heaven only to then have them dashed to the depths.

A day of surprises was now dawning; the day of all days was commencing; a spirit of caring propelled the three women forward, not knowing how they would even be able to enter the grave. But God had opened the tomb. A rock, however big, would not block the Christ who spoke of faith great enough to move mountains. Entering the tomb, black Friday becomes Good Friday, hope returns to the hopeless, death is replaced by life.

Each of us has had our bad Fridays when someone has crucified our hopes, when someone close to us has scorned our love, when our hearts have worn the black band of betrayal, when we have sold our integrity for thirty pieces of silver, when the shadows of life outdistance the rays of sunlight. There is not one person who does not need healing in some aspect of his or her life. No one can stand before the cross and say, "Jesus, like you, I have no sin."

All of us know the Easter story, but what God really desires is that we all encounter the living Christ. I have seen the living Christ. I have been an eyewitness who has seen purpose enter into aimless lives. I have seen calmness overcome chaos. I have seen him strengthen the weak, bring healing to the sick, and comfort to the bereaved. I have seen him bestow joy and confidence to lives shattered by an angry and cruel world. I have experienced his presence in my life and in the lives of others.

I know that my Redeemer lives. I even know your Redeemer lives. If you know it too, praise God with your lives. Without the resurrection, death and taxes are the sum of life’s certainties. With Jesus Christ, our lives cease being daily soap operas and become divine certainties to be lived to the fullest with the final chapter to be played before the throne of Almighty God.

Frankly, don't we wish that Jesus had told this parable in a little different way. Couldn't he have gotten the same point across if He had told it something like this:

Verily, verily I tell you that once upon a time there was a good lady who lived next door to an atheist. Everyday, when the lady prayed, the atheist guy could hear her. He thought to himself, "She sure is crazy, praying all the time like that. Doesn't she know there is no GOD!" Many times while she was praying, he would go to her house and harass her, saying, "Lady, why do you pray all the time? Don't you know there is no GOD!" But she kept on praying.

One day, she ran out of groceries. As usual, she was praying to the Lord explaining her situation and thanking Him for what He was going to do. As usual, the atheist heard her praying and thought to himself, "Humph...I'll fix her."

He went to the grocery store, bought a whole bunch of groceries, took them to her house, dropped them off on the front porch, rang the door bell and then hid in the bushes to see what she would do. When she opened the door and saw the groceries, she began to praise the Lord with all her heart, jumping, singing, and shouting everywhere!

The atheist then jumped out of the bushes and told her, "You crazy old lady. God didn't buy you those groceries, I bought those groceries!' Well, she broke out and started running down the street, shouting and praising the Lord even more. When he finally caught her, he asked what her problem was... She said "I knew the Lord would provide me with some groceries, but I didn't know he was going to make the devil pay for them!"

The word "amen" is a most remarkable word. It was transliterated directly from the Hebrew into the Koine Greek of the New Testament, then into Latin and into English and many other languages, so that it is practically a universal word. It has been called the best-known word in human speech. The word is directly related in fact, almost identical to the Hebrew word for "believe" (aman), or "faithful." Thus, it came to mean "sure" or truly," an expression of absolute trust and confidence. When one believes God, he indicates his faith by an "amen." When God makes a promise, the believer's response is "amen" "so it will be!" In the New Testament, it is often translated "verily" or "truly." When we pray according to His Word and His will, we know God will answer, so we close with an "amen," and so also do we conclude a great hymn or anthem of praise and faith.

The word is even a title of Christ Himself. The last of His letters to the seven churches begins with a remarkable salutation by the glorified Lord: "These things saith the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of the creation of God" (Revelation 3:14). We can be preeminently certain that His Word is always faithful and true, because He is none other than the Creator of all things, and thus He is our eternal "Amen." As our text reminds us, every promise of God in Christ is "yea and amen," as strong an affirmation of truth as can be expressed in the Greek language.

It is, therefore, profoundly meaningful that the entire Bible closes with an "amen." "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen" (Revelation 22:21), assuring everyone who reads these words that the whole Book is absolutely true and trustworthy. Amen!

My God, I love Thee; not because
I hope for heaven thereby,
Nor yet because who love Thee not
Are lost eternally.

Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me
Upon the cross embrace;
For me didst bear the nails, and spear,
And manifold disgrace,

And griefs and torments numberless,
And sweat of agony;
Yea, death itself; and all for me
Who was thine enemy.

Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
Should I not love Thee well?
Not for the sake of winning heaven,
Nor of escaping hell;

Not from the hope of gaining aught,
Not seeking a reward;
But as Thyself hast loved me,
O ever-loving Lord.

So would I love Thee, dearest Lord,
And in Thy praise will sing;
Solely because Thou art my God,
And my most loving King.

There is a wonderful story about Orel Hershiser, the great Dodger pitcher. He was a born‑again Christian who passed out autographed Bibles to team mates and others. His feat of consecutive scoreless innings pitched is always referred to a couple of times during every World Series.

After the World Series in which he set the record he was a guest on the Johnny Carson Show. Carson said to him, “I was watching you during the games, between innings. You were by yourself but your lips were moving. Who were you talking to?”

Orel replied, “I wasn’t talking. I was singing.”

“What were you singing?”

“I was singing the Doxology.”

Johnny called out to Doc Severson: “Hey, Doc, do we know that?”

On national television Orel sang: “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heav’nly host; Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! ”

It was question and answer time at the worship workshop. Pastor and Author Thomas Long had been speaking on the theme of worship all morning to a group of people gathered in a church fellowship hall in a suburban neighborhood in Indiana. Dressed in sweatshirts and jeans, they had given up a Saturday of golf and gardening to sip coffee and listen politely as he rambled through discussions of Vatican II, Calvin's view of the Lord's Supper, the pros and cons of children's sermons, the development of the lectionary, the meanings of baptism, and other assorted topics about worship. Now, the lecturing done, he gulped down a little coffee and asked if there were any questions.

A hand shot into the air. It belonged to a fiftyish man with plump cheeks and rimless glasses who was, judging by the way his hand waved and bobbed, eager to speak. "There's one thing about our worship service here which really gripes me," he complained. "To me it's like fingernails being scraped

across a blackboard."

"What's that?" he cautiously asked, fully expecting him to say something about gender inclusive language, newfangled hymns, politics in the pulpit, or sermons on tithing. But it was not one of these issues which caused his aggravation.

"The announcements," he declared. "I just hate it when the minister spoils the mood of worship with all those dull announcements." Heads bobbed in vigorous agreement all around the room. The announcements were out of favor in that corner of Indiana, no question about it.

Thomas Long said he knew what the man meant. You're soaring above the pews on Sunday, your wings catching the strong breeze of the Spirit carrying you upward from "Joy to the World" toward the choir's lofty "For Unto Us a Child is Born," and then, thud ... the Christian Education Committee will meet in the library on Thursday at 7:30 .... " Like Icarus striving for the sun, you

find your wax wings suddenly melting, and you plummet back to the world of flesh, dust, and committee meetings.

The announcements do seem like a bag of peanuts at the opera, an ungainly moment of mundanity wedging its way into an hour of inspiration. What he tried to say to the questioner was that he understood how he felt and that, yes, the announcements were often rattled off without care or passion, and, yes, they did sometimes seem to be somewhat uninspiring, but that, after all, the details of the church's institutional life were important, and five minutes of them couldn't hurt, and so on.

After the meeting Rev. Long realized he blew it. He didn’t give the right answer. What he should have said is that, properly understood, the announcements are one of those places where the rubber of the church's theology hits the road. Indeed, it just may be that by moving seamlessly from "Holy, Holy, Holy" to "the telephone crisis counseling ministry is in need of additional volunteers," by punctuating its soaring praise with the commas of the earthy details of its common life, the church is expressing in its worship one of its most basic convictions about the character of God:

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us....

Even back then I was searching for hard evidence of God as an alternative to faith. And one day I found it on television, of all places. While randomly flipping a dial, I came across a mass healing service being conducted by Kathryn Kuhlman. I watched for a few minutes as she brought various people up on the stage and interviewed them. Each one told an amazing story of supernatural healing. Cancer, heart conditions, paralysis it was like a medical encyclopedia up there. As I watched Kuhlman's program, my doubts gradually melted away. At last I had found something real and tangible. Kuhlman asked a musician to sing her favorite song, "He Touched Me. That's what I needed, I thought; a touch, a personal touch from God. She held out that promise, and I lunged for it.

Three weeks later when Kathryn Kuhlman came to a neighboring state, I skipped classes and traveled half a day to attend one of her meetings. The atmosphere was unbelievably charged soft organ music in the background; the murmuring sound of people praying aloud, some in strange tongues; and every few minutes a happy interruption when someone would stand and claim, "I'm healed!" One person especially made an impression, a man from Milwaukee who had been carried into the meeting on a stretcher. When he walked yes, walked onstage, we all cheered wildly. He told us he was a physician, and I was even more impressed. He had incurable lung cancer, he said, and was told he had six months to live. But now, tonight, he believed God had healed him. He was walking for the first time in months. He felt great. Praise God! I wrote down the man's name and practically floated out of that meeting. I had never known such certainty of faith before. My search was over; I had seen proof of a living God in those people on the stage. If he could work tangible miracles in them, then surely he had something wonderful in store for me.

I wanted to contact the man of faith I had seen at the meeting, so much so that exactly one week later I phoned Directory Assistance in Milwaukee and got the physician's number. When I dialed it, a woman answered the phone. "May I please speak to Dr. S_____," I said. Long silence. "Who are you?" she said at last. I figured she was just screening calls from patients or something. I gave my name and told her I admired Dr. S_____ and had wanted to talk to him ever since the Kathryn Kuhlman meeting. I had been very moved by his story, I said. Another long silence. Then she spoke in a flat voice, pronouncing each word slowly. "My...husband...is...dead." Just that one sentence, nothing more, and she hung up.

I can't tell you how that devastated me. I was wasted. I half-staggered into the next room, where my sister was sitting. "Richard, what's wrong?" she asked. "Are you all right?" No, I was not all right. But I couldn't talk about it. I was crying. My mother and sister tried to pry some explanation out of me. But what could I tell them? For me, the certainty I had staked my life on had died with that phone call. A flame had flared bright for one fine, shining week and then gone dark, like a dying star.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the year 1873, Horatio Spafford, a Christian lawyer from Chicago, placed his wife and four children on the luxury liner Ville de Havre sailing from New York to France. Spafford expected to join them in about three or four weeks after finishing up some business, but with the exception of his wife he never saw them again. The trip started out beautifully. But on the evening of November 21, 1873, as the Ville de Havre proceeded peacefully across the Atlantic, the ship was suddenly struck by another vessel, the Lochearn, and sank a mere thirty minutes later, with the loss of nearly all on board.

On being told that the ship was sinking Mrs. Spafford knelt with her children and prayed that they might be saved or be made willing to die, if such was God's will. A few minutes later, in the confusion, three of the children were swept away by the waves while she stood clutching the youngest. Suddenly the youngest child was swept from her arms. Mrs. Spafford became unconscious and awoke later to find that she had been rescued by sailors from the Lochearn. But the four children were gone.

Back in the United States, Horatio Spafford was waiting for news of his family, and at last, ten days later (after the rescue ship had reached Cardiff), it came. "Saved alone" was his wife's message. That night Spafford walked the floor of his rooms in anguish, as anyone would have done. But this was not all. For as he shared his loss with His Lord, a loss which could not be reversed in this life, he found, as many have, that peace which indeed passes all understanding. Toward morning he told a friend named Major Whittle, "I am glad to be able to trust my Lord when it costs me something." Then, sometime later, as he reflected on the disaster at sea, he wrote this hymn:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea-billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin-Oh, the bliss of this glorious thought,
My sin-not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
"Even so"—it is well with my soul.

"Let's get weighed and have our fortunes told," said Jean.

"Let me get weighed first," said Marie.

"I've got four pennies," said the mother, "so, all of you can get weighed."

"Let John be first. He weighs the most." said Dick.

"I weigh 145 pounds. That's wonderful. I bet I'll weigh 155 by football season," said John.

"You get on next, Dick."

"Gosh, I still only weigh 137 pounds and I've been that weight for over a year." Dick responded.

"Gee, I weigh 122 pounds," said Marie. "I'll have to reduce."

"And I weigh 115 pounds," said Jean.

"Is that good or bad?" asked John.

"I don't know," said Jean. "I'm happy and I feel good."

"I would like to weigh more," said Dick, "but I guess I'll have to be happy the way I am."

It is true that millions worry over their weight. Some wishing to lose and some wishing to gain with their health and happiness being marred or blessed by being nearer what insurance interests consider as a healthy standard.

When sorrow and anxiety is real, the weight of the problems at hand seems unbearable. When joy and success is at hand, then, no matter what the weight of the flesh, the human spirit moves us with buoyancy.

When we are happy, we not only are better able to carry our own load, but also we help others to lift their burdens.

Happiness has a very light weight and, if we remember the joy of a risen Lord, the promises of Christ, God's love for mankind, we have a real cause for happiness and good reason to bless others with our cheerfulness and contagious faith.

We do well to follow the psalmist, when he said, "I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.

In all prrobablity, you know of some young boy who bears such a striking resemblance to his father that a person would know immediately, even in a crowd, that they were father and son. The father can be seen in the son. The Bible tells us that "God was Christ!" In what ways did the Son resemble the Father?

a. In his life. Jesus affirmed and celebrated life. His was not the attitude that this world and all that is in it are despicably evil ... that the object is to totally reject life with an eye always on "glory" ... that beauty in any form must be repressed as a tool of the devil. No, instead, Christ affirmed and celebrated life. Not a recluse, he enjoyed friendships with Lazarus, Mary, Martha, and others. He observed simple domestic gestures and was so impressed by them that he gave them a prominent place in his teachings (a woman sweeping a house, or drawing water at a well, baking bread, old wineskins bursting with new wine, lamps flickering in the night, patches on old garments). He enjoyed and absorbed the movements in nature and referred to them in order to illustrate his message; birds gathering into trees, foxes going into dens, figs withering, storm clouds boiling. Jesus affirmed life in such a positive manner, experiencing and relating to God’s great intention and design for all he had made, that we may understand life is not to be either seized nor rejected, but "lived" in an attitude of "Praise God!" In the harmony of Christ’s life with creation, we see something of God’s great intention and design for each of us.

b. In his ministry. Jesus’ ministry was characterized by the absolute "giving" of himself. He was, as one theologian puts it, "radically obedient" to God. In the same spirit, he was "radically giving" to others, always reaching, touching, healing, praying, searching, loving. The Bell Telephone Company did not originate the concept of "Reach Out and Touch Someone." The concept was in the mind of God before creation and the practice is as old as Eden. It was perfected in Jesus Christ, proclaimed in the New Testament, and is as relevant today as this morning’s newspaper. The ministry of Christ reveals a God who "spends" himself for creation.

c. In his teaching. Jesus was able to recognize and relate to God in the common life through his teachings. His life, ministry, and teachings combined to reveal a God of boundless love, caring, concern, and sensitive compassion. What he taught, he practiced. Even in death he was consistent with the witness of his life. Having spoken of "forgiving one’s enemies" and those who "despitefully use you," he gathered his words into action on Calvary. "Father, forgive them," he prayed. He taught so very much more, all of which was personified in his life. He showed that if the "good teacher" is flawlessly consistent, how much more consistent and loving must be our heavenly Father?

d. In his resurrection. Here, God unmistakably reveals himself. His power is beyond imagination. His promises are made good. His intentions and purposes will not be overthrown. His actual involvement in the world is confirmed. In the resurrected Christ, God is clearly revealed. God was, in all ways, in Christ!

A missionary in Africa was preaching his first sermon in a mission church. When time came for the offering, the people danced their offerings forward. They danced and sang praise to God as they brought their offerings to the altar. It was a beautiful moment. What do you think? Should we get our ushers to do that?

After the service, he asked one of the people, "Why do you dance and sing when you bring your offering forward on Sunday morning?" Back came the answer: "How could we not dance? We are so grateful to God for what He has done for us in sending Jesus Christ to save us, that we have to dance and sing our thanksgiving and besides it says in the Bible, God loves a cheerful giver."

Let me ask you something. Do you feel gratitude to God that strongly? Do you have a strong case of the "can't help its" when it come to gratitude? When you are Christians, gratitude is the spirit of your lifestyle. When you are a Christian, you can't help but be grateful!