In a speech to the Society of American Authors on November 15, 1900, Mark Twain, with tongue in cheek, spoke of the two-faced life we all live: "I am constructed like everybody else and enjoy a compliment as well as any other fool, but I do like to have the other side presented. And there is another side. I have a wicked side. Estimable friends who know all about it would tell you and take a certain delight in telling you things that I have done and things further that I have not repented. The real life that I live, and the real life that I suppose all of you live, is a life of interior sin. That is what makes life valuable and pleasant. To lead a life of undiscovered sin! That is true joy.

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

A new husband watched curiously as his bride prepared to place a ham in the oven. Before putting it in to cook, she took a knife and carefully trimmed off both ends of the ham. The husband asked, "Why did you do that? I'm not an expert at cooking hams, but I don't think I ever saw anyone cut off both ends of the ham before cooking it."

The wife answered, "You know, I don't really know. I never cooked a ham before, but that's the way my mother always did it." Her curiosity aroused, she telephoned her mother and asked her why she always cut off both ends of a ham before she cooked it.

"Now that you mention it, I don't know, dear," her mother replied. "That's just the way your grandmother always did it. Other than that, I honestly don't have a clue."

Determined now to unravel this mystery, the young bride then telephoned her grandmother and asked her why she always cut off both ends of the ham before she cooked it. "Well, sweetheart, " her grandmother said, "the first oven we owned wasn't big enough to put a whole ham in, so I had to cut the ends off to make it fit. After that, I guess it just became a habit!"

You see? That's traditionalism – when we do whatever we do without knowing why we do it, but continue to do it anyway because that's what we've always done! Does that make sense?

The apostle Paul, in his letter of encouragement to the struggling young church at Thessalonica, wrote, "Stand firm and hold fast to the traditions we taught you, either by word of mouth or by our letters" (2 Thessalonians 2:15). Tradition is important. But tradition has to leave room for revelation, because the Spirit blows where it wills, right? That has always been a problem in the church, from day one to this day. We don't seem to want to leave any room for revelation when we're talking about tradition.

A well-known theologian has commented, "Any church that is alive lives on the edge of heresy," meaning that its members won't refuse new ideas or new programs or new challenges simply because there are those in the church who say, "WE NEVER DID IT THAT WAY BEFORE!" and want these to be the final words on the subject matter. These have been called "the seven last words of the church," and in many cases they have been.

The Sadducees thought the idea of resurrection to be silly. Maybe they had been influenced by Greek thinking, maybe they felt you could not build a good case for it based on the Scriptures. But they thought it silly and had come to the conclusion that Jesus believed in it. Since Jesus was a prominent teacher, they thought it would be fun and instructive to publicly humiliate him and so concocted their over-the-top scenario that exploited the old Israelite practice of levirate marriage to wonder what a woman who on earth had seven husbands would do in the afterlife.

The set-up reminds you of the time someone wanted to get under the skin of C.S. Lewis. Lewis was fond of suggesting that in heaven, animals (and maybe even our cherished pets) could very well find a place. A person who thought that to be silly snidely asked Lewis "Well, what about the mosquitoes?" to which Lewis replied that God was clever enough to combine a hell for humans with a heaven for mosquitoes! (Or it reminds you of the famous line, attributed by some to Augustine: when a cynic asked what in the world God had been doing in all those eons prior to the creation of the universe, Augustine was said to reply, "He was making hell for the curious.")

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

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

The article goes on to state:

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

The poet T. S. Eliot in his famous poem "The Wasteland," calls April the "cruelest month," because the showers of April stir up the dull and dormant roots of trees and flowers to begin bursting forth with new life instead of allowing them to remain comfortably asleep in the frozen ground of winter. Yet the sleep of tree roots and flower bulbs is the sleep of hibernation, not of rest. Trees were meant to put out green leaves; tulips were meant to push up through the soil and produce beautiful blossoms. Human beings are also meant to grow, to mature, to blossom, not to hibernate in the frozen sleep of habit or tradition or familiarity. Paul says that we were meant to grow until "we attain to the full height of the stature of Christ."

At a church-growth workshop the leader, Bill Easum, who himself grew a church from 29 members to over 2,400 members, said that too often the questions churches ask themselves are questions that are motivated by a desire to maintain whatever is comfortable. That's why some have said that the seven last words of the church are "We've never done it that way before."

Bill Easum spoke of the three greatest sins of the church, and one of them was, "We're more in love with our traditions than we are with our missions." If we are intent on preserving the patterns of church life we've grown comfortable with, we'll soon discover that God has moved on and left us behind. God is always out there ahead of us, leading us into the future, and if we want to be working hand in hand with God, we have to be willing to ask the right questions. Not, "What can we do to preserve what we find comfortable?" but "What can we do to be partners with God in mission?" The first question leads to a church that is dead and declining; the second to a church that is alive and dynamic.

A certain minister has made it a policy for many years to refer "six-year-old theology questions" to his wife. Since she has taught very young children for many years, he says, she has a much better grasp than he does of how to address the questions which little kids ask.

A first-grader brought a drawing of a skeleton into class where she teaches English as a second language. The title across the top of the drawing read "Inside of Me." It was designed to teach children that everyone has a skeleton inside of them. He unfolded it proudly and showed it to the class. One little girl from India was astounded at the thought that she and others had this scary-looking skeleton inside them, and so she pressed the issue a bit farther. "Even you got one of these inside you, Mrs. K?" The teacher replied, "Yes, I have one, too."

The next question was the theological one. "Even God got one inside him?" Now in a class made up of children from many different countries, cultures, and religious backgrounds (most of them not Christians), you can imagine that this question had the potential for major theological debate. I doubt if I'd have had the presence of mind to give the answer the teacher did; but, as usual, her expertise in six-year-old theology saved the day. "If God needs a skeleton, I'm sure he has one," she replied. "God has everything he needs." This apparently satisfied the theological curiosity of the class, and they got on with the lesson.

Asking questions is an essential part of learning. If we don't know something, we look for someone who does and we ask. The only dumb question is the one you don't ask. We learn by asking questions about what we don't know.

The answer you get largely depends on the question you ask. Here's a grave example: Several centuries ago, a curious but deadly plague appeared in a small village in Lithuania. What was curious about this disease was its grip on its victim; as soon as a person contracted it, he would go into a very deep almost deathlike coma. Most individuals would die within twenty-four hours, but occasionally a hardy soul would make it back to the full bloom of health. The problem was that since early eighteenth century medical technology was not very advanced, the unafflicted had quite a difficult time telling whether a victim was dead or alive. This didn't matter too much, though, because most of the people were, in fact, dead.

Then one day it was discovered that someone had been buried alive. This alarmed the townspeople, so they called a town meeting to decide what should be done to prevent such a situation from happening again. After much discussion, most people agreed on the following solution. They decided to put food and water in every casket next to the body. They would even put an air hole up from the casket to the earth's surface. These procedures would be expensive, but they would be more than worthwhile if they would save some people's lives.

Another group came up with a second, less expensive, right answer. They proposed implanting a twelve inch long steak in every coffin lid directly over where the victim's heart would be. Then whatever doubts there were about whether the person was dead or alive would be eliminated as soon as the coffin lid was closed.

Why the two solutions? Because of the two question. The first group asked, "What should we do in the event we bury somebody alive?", the second group asked, "How can we make sure everyone we bury is dead?" 

Often times questions reveal motives and the character of the person asking the question.

When it comes to talking about the hereafter, I like the words of St Paul: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived, What God has prepared for those who love him."

Resurrection is not some natural right that we are given. It is a remarkable gift from the grace of God. Gratis! Some Greek philosophers believed that we are, by nature, immortal spirits. The human body and life on earth are but crude prisons that we endure like caged eagles. For them immortality is our right, which is restored at death as we escape to our true element.

Pessimists on the other hand said we die like any animal and that is it. Look at Ecclesiastes and you will find this emphatic despair.

But Christianity said two things:

To the pessimists Christianity answers: "No! You are wrong. There is a gift of life after death." Death does not snuff out the candle of our soul.

To the Greeks: "No you are wrong. The body is not a cage; it is a good gift to be used in this life. Death is real to be sure but it is not an escape, a loophole by which we escape the sentence of living on earth. God gives us the gift of life: Earthly life and Resurrection life: Both are Gift! Both are Grace!"

Note: Adapted from a sermons by Australian Pastor Bruce Prewer.

I sometimes marvel at Jesus' patience with the dogmatism and intolerance of the religious leaders. They argued about inconsequential matters and made people follow laws that they themselves could not keep. Here in Luke 20 they are arguing with Jesus, asking him about marriage in heaven. What is so obvious in this scene is that it's a set up. They don't even believe in heaven, the afterlife and resurrection. They're just asking these question to trip Jesus up and Jesus sees their trivial behavior so plainly. Let me give you a little illustration from the realm of cooking. This story comes from a Houston Chronicle Editorial column:

Ask any great cook about aluminum foil and you're bound to get an opinion on which side is "best." Some swear the shiny side must always be on the outside of a baked potato, while others condemn such nonsense and emphatically claim exactly the opposite. Meanwhile, the manufacturer stays amused and gives a good lesson in dogmatism and tolerance. When foil is made, it is rolled. One side of the foil gets shiny because it comes in contact with the heavy roller. The other side stays dull because it never makes contact with the roller. Both sides produce the same results!

Surely you don't have any church members who could benefit from this little lesson on tolerance. 

Misleading Questions:

1. Luke 20:1-2 Chief Priest and Elders question Jesus about his Authority
2. Luke 20:20 Spies are sent to catch him in a slip of the tongue
3. Luke 20:27-33 Sadducees

All are insincere tricks but Jesus proves to be more than a match for his adversaries.

With the third misleading question, the Sadducees try to expose the resurrection as a ridiculous theological concept by posing an impossible scenario and thereby trap Jesus in his thoughts: A woman is married seven times to a series of brothers who father no children and she survives them all. In the resurrection whose wife is she? Jesus reveals that the question is built on a false premise since the institution of marriage ceases to exist with the advent of the age of resurrection.

Score now: Jesus -- 3

Religious leaders -- 0.

Someone has figured that if we put all of the materials in the Gospels that tell us about the life of Jesus together that it would equal about 80 pages. Yet, most of that would represent duplication, for we know that some of the Gospel writers copied from others. If, therefore you eliminate the duplication, you would have only 20 pages that tell us about Jesus life and teachings. Of those 20 pages, 13 of them deal specifically with the last week of his life. And if you separate it still further, you will discover that one-third of those 13 pages took place on Tuesday of Holy Week. Thus, in terms of sheer volume, we know far more on this day in his life than any other day. The events of that day represent a significant percentage of what we know about the man Jesus.

We know that Jesus spent Monday evening in Bethany, probably in the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, since that is where he spent Sunday evening. He arose early on Tuesday morning and he and his disciples returned to Jerusalem. If you will then let your mind drift back through the pages of history, let us assume for a moment that you are living in First Century Palestine. It is the Season of the Passover and you and your family are among the thousands of religious pilgrims who have migrated to the ancient walled city of Jerusalem to participate in the religious celebration. You were there on Monday when Jesus took whip in hand and radically ran the moneychangers from the temple. It had been an eventful day.

But now it is Monday and it has come time to retire with your family. As you walk down the Villa de la Rosa you pass by the palace of the high priest, the residence of Caiaphas. You notice that a light is burning in the upper floor of this exquisite mansion. You comment to your family that Caiaphas must be working long hours to see that all of the religious festivities go on as scheduled. Yet, if you only knew what was really going on in that palace that evening. If you only knew what was taking place in that smoke filled room.

Gathered around the table that evening in the palace was one of the strangest combinations of political and religious factions that anyone could possibly imagine. Yet, politics makes strange bedfellows. It is interesting to me to see how fundamentalist Protestant denominations find a partner in the Roman Catholic Church on the issue of abortion. It is interesting to me to see how fundamentalist Protestants and Jews are brought together because they have similar views on the protection of Israel. Groups that would normally not have communication are sometimes strangely brought together for a temporary goal. That is what happened that night in Jerusalem. Here is the background.

The three groups conspired together that evening: the Herodians, the Sadducees, and the Pharisees. Their common goal was to discredit Jesus of Nazareth in front of his constituency, the common people. It was probably not their intent to assassinate Jesus, which is what eventually happened, but rather to discredit him. They did not want a martyr on their hands. They would much prefer to make him a fool. Let's give him enough rope and he may just hang himself. Thus, each group would in turn ask him a question, not because they thought that they could learn from him, but because they wished to trick him. They were hoping for that one slip of the tongue. Each group would ask him a question that would be dear to their cause:

1. The first question asked was from the Herodians.
2. The next question was asked by Sadducees.
3. The third question came from a Pharisee.
4. Having routed the opposition, Jesus now, in essence, says, "It is my turn! Now I want to ask you a question.

Rainer Maria Rilke's was a famous German poet and correspondent with an aspiring American poet. The letters were published in a book titled, "Letters to a Young Poet?" In the letter the "young poet" has many questions about their art form. Rilke doesn't mind. In fact she relishes the questions and says to the young poet: "Love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Live the questions now. Perhaps then someday far in the future, you will gradually...live your way into the answer."

Live your way into the answers. I love that. It's good parenting advice. It's good advice for you and me. We don't have all the answers and life, no matter our age, produces all kinds of questions. Live your way into the answers to those questions.

Dr. W. A. Criswell, the beloved pastor of First Baptist Church of Dallas, was once asked, “Will we know each other when we get to heaven?” His answer: “We won’t really know each other until we get to heaven.”

There are a lot question the Bible doesn't answer about the Hereafter. But I think one reason is illustrated by the story of a boy sitting down to a bowl of spinach when there's a chocolate cake at the end of the table. He's going to have a rough time eating that spinach when his eyes are on that cake. And if the lord had explained everything to us about what's ours to come, I think we'd have a rough time with our spinach down here.

Author King Duncan tells about a young man he met in the small town of Maryville, TN.  Duncan had just finished speaking to a group on the healing power of humor. This young man came up to him to tell him about the death of his brother. 

There were three brothers in their family. The family was quite involved in this small community and so, as youngsters, these three brothers were forced to accompany their parents to the funeral home for the receiving of friends whenever someone in the community died. 

As the boys grew into their teen years, they began to develop biases about funerals.  For example, there was one floral display that all three of them detested. Anyone who has ever gone to a funeral home in the rural south may have seen this arrangement. It is a wreath with a telephone in the middle of it and a ribbon fastened across it on which is printed the words, "Jesus Called."  These three brothers disliked this particular arrangement intensely.

To make a long story short, one of these three brothers died as a young adult after a prolonged illness.  The family was devastated. He was so young and he was a fine young man.  But now it was this family's turn to receive friends at the local funeral home. 

You may have guessed it.  One of the floral arrangements that had been set up in the chapel for the receiving of friends was the one with the telephone and the ribbon with the words, "Jesus called." 

The two surviving brothers were enraged.  Who could have sent this arrangement that they so despised to their beloved brother's funeral? They quickly made their way to the arrangement to read the accompanying card. And on the card was the signature . . . of their deceased brother. He had sent the arrangement to his own funeral as one last joke on his brothers. In a flash, said this surviving brother, their tears turned to laughter.

What a gift this dying young man had given to his brothers. He had looked ahead to his journey of transition, and he had sought to make things easier for those he loved.

Pastor Edward Markquart of Seattle tells about a poem titled, "The Midnight of March 31st."  It's a story about a drunken truck driver. Markquart imagines this driver trucking across Eastern Washington.  Finally he comes . . . in his mind . . . to the end of the highway . . . [The highway] seems to stop at the top of a hill that he can't see over . . . it is impossible for him to imagine that the road goes on.  And so he pulls off the highway and into a tavern and shouts to everyone:  "People, the road stops here.  The road stops here.  It doesn't go any farther. That's impossible." 

And everybody in the tavern laughs. They tell him that road goes all across Washington and even across the United States.  But the drunken truck driver is convinced the road goes no farther than the hill he can't see over.  

Then Markquart adds these wise words, "By analogy, many people drive out of our church and they drive up highway #99 after the funeral, and they drive into Washington Memorial Cemetery, and the road pulls right up to a grave which is carved out of the ground on the top of a hill.  And many people think: the road stops here; the road stops here; there is no more; it is impossible for the road to go any farther."

But, of course, the road does go farther. Death is not the end of the journey. There is more beyond. A healthy approach to death is to deal with it as a time of transition. Death is but a journey from this world to the next.

Humorist Garrison Keillor in his delightful descriptions of the people in his fictional hometown of Lake Wobegon tells how difficult it will be for some of us to deal with that kind of perfection. He writes, "My people aren't paradise people. We've lived in Minnesota all our lives and it took a lot out of us. My people aren't sure if we'll even like paradise: not sure that perfection is all it's cracked up to be. My people will arrive in heaven and stand just inside the gate, shuffling around. `It's a lot bigger than I thought it was going to be,' we'll think. We'll say, `No, thank you, we can't stay for eternity, we'll just sit and have a few minutes of bliss with you and then we have to get back.'

"We were brought up to work, not complain, accept that life is hard, and make the best of what little we have, so when we come to the grandeur and grace of an eternal flower garden ringed by mountains beside a pale blue coral sea under the continuous sun, we naturally say, `Oh, no thanks, it's too much, really, I don't care for it, just give me some ice, please.'"

All of us will be a little like that. Heaven will be far more wonderful than we can ever imagine.

In the children's classic, THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH, Milo, Tock and Humbug are traveling to the Lands Beyond. They are greeted by the twelve-faced Dodecahedron who is a specialist in problems.

"I'm not very good at problems," admits Milo.

"What a shame," sighs the Dodecahedron. "They're so very useful. Why, did you know that if a beaver two feet long with a tail a foot and a half long can build a dam twelve feet high and six feet wide in two days? All you would need to build Boulder Dam is a beaver sixty-eight feet long with a fifty-one foot tail."

"Where would you find a beaver that big?" grumbled Humbug.

"I'm sure I don't know," he replied, "but if you did you'd certainly know what to do with him." 

"That's absurd," objected Milo.

"That may be true," he acknowledged, "but it's completely accurate, and as long as the answer is right, who cares if the question is wrong? If you want sense you'll have to make it yourself." 

The Sadducees' question was that kind of question. It was a test. It was a trap. Jesus, though, saw this as an opportunity to set the record straight. In heaven, he explained, there is no need for marriage, "because they are like angels and are children of God."

Warren Buffett, a financial investment genius and the second-richest man in America, has his doubts about life beyond the grave, and it worries him. Buffett admits, "There is one thing I am scared of. I am afraid to die." His biographer Roger Lowenstein, writes: "Warren's exploits were always based on numbers, which he trusted above all else. In contrast, he did not subscribe to his family's religion. Even at a young age, he was too mathematical, and too logical, to make the leap of faith. He adopted his father's ethical underpinnings, but not his belief in an unseen divinity." And thus Warren Buffet, one of the most successful men in the world, is stricken with one terrifying fear, the fear of dying.

On a lighter note, Buffett once said, "What I want people to say when they pass my casket is, "Boy, was he old!"

Buffett is not alone in his doubt and his fear. Even though the majority of people in this country and even in the world believe in God and believe in life after the grave, there has always been a minority who finds this too great a leap of faith to take. And the natural response to such doubt is fear.

Many of you know Charles de Gaulle as the famous French WWII soldier, statesman, author. What you probably did not know was that Charles and Evonne deGaulle were the parents of a very mentally disabled child. She was a treasure and a great concern to them both. No matter how bad things were in France, Charles would always make time for he and his wife to have time with their daughter. Almost every night after they had put her to bed, Evonne would ask, "Charles, why couldn't she have been like the others?"

As predicted, the little girl died in her youth. There was a private graveside service. After the priest had pronounced the benediction, everyone began to leave, everyone except Evonne. Charles went back to her and said, "Come, Evonne. Did you not hear the blessing of the priest? Now she is like all the others."

That is the promise and the power of resurrection!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Jewish woman was fleeing the German Gestapo in France. She knew she was close to being caught and she wanted to give up. A Christian woman, a widow, told her it was time to flee to a new place. The Jew said, “It’s no use, they will find me anyway. They are so close behind.” The Christian widow said, “Yes, they will find someone here, but it’s time for you to leave. Go. I will take your identification and wait for them.”

The Jewish lady then understood the plan; the Gestapo would come and find this Christian widow and think she was the fleeing Jew.

The Jewish lady asked her why she was doing that. The widow responded, “It’s the least I can do; Christ has already done that and more for me.”

The widow was caught and imprisoned in the Jewish lady’s place, allowing time for her to escape. Within six months the widow died in the concentration camp.

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

There was a man who called at the church and asked if he could speak to the Head Hog at the trough. The secretary said, "Who?" Then she gathered herself and said "Sir, if you mean our pastor you will have to treat him with a little more respect than that and ask for the ‘Reverend' or ‘The Pastor.' But certainly you cannot refer to him as the Head Hog at the Trough." The man said, "I understand. I was calling because I have $10,000 I was thinking about donating to the building fund." She said, "Hold on for just a moment—I think the big pig just walked in the door."

Now I am sure the secretary wouldn't treat me like that, some of the laity perhaps but not the secretary! But we all are subject to changing our tune when money is suddenly involved. That is why this passage of Scripture has been an enduring image throughout the ages. We play favorites. We treat those who give more as if they are the pillars on which the church is erected.

But consider with me another image. Jesus, sitting opposite the place where the offerings were put, is observing the people make their donations as they come into the temple. He is not alone. Seated with him are the leaders—the Sadducees. It is startling to think of Jesus sitting with those whom he had scorned for their hypocrisy.  Remember that as they watch there is no paper money, so all of the offerings make a terrible noise as they roll down this long horn shaped object and fall into the pool of coins. And here comes this little old lady and she has two small coins worth nothing and drops them in. They barely make a noise. You can almost see the Temple leaders as they roll their eyes and hope for better results with the next person who walks in the door. Jesus then calls his Disciples over and says, "This poor widow has put more in to the treasury than all the others." To the Sadducees this woman is a waste of time, but to Jesus she is the stuff by which Kingdoms are erected. Thus, at its heart, the story of the widow's mite is a strong reminder to the kingdoms of this world…

1. That the Kingdom of God is built by the widow as well as the wealthy.
2. That the Kingdom of God recognizes the level of sacrifice.
3. That the Kingdom of God warns us about pride.

The first perversion of the doctrine of the second coming of Christ is perpetrated by those I'm going to call "prophecy mongers." You know these people. They come with their charts and graphs, with their predictions and projections, claiming to have special insight into the workings of God in the world, so that they're able to cue us in on just where we are in the divine timetable. And somehow, every political event of the past fifty years fits neatly into their scheme of things. But Jesus said that no one not even himself knew the day or the hour of his coming, but only the Father.

But there is another distortion of this doctrine that is equally vitiating although in comes from a completely different direction. Here I refer to those who, far from exaggerating the eschatology of Jesus, want to minimize it because they are embarrassed. They rationalize it or demythologize it or spiritualize it, so that they can embrace Jesus and his teachings without getting all the supernatural trimmings that go with it. The fundamentalist and the rationalist share a common assumption about the second coming. They both assume that this is teaching we can easily understand and exploit and have at our disposal, so that it no longer threatens us, no longer hangs over our heads like Damocles's word, ready to fall upon us and shatter our pretty pretensions into a thousand smithereens. The fundamentalist over explains the second coming, and so takes away its mystery, while the rationalist explains it away, robbing it of its meaning.

Jesus said, "Keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour." It is here at the point of waiting that most of us have our greatest difficulty.

In the 1500s, there lived a "prophet" named Nostradamus who upheld the Copernican theory that the world is round and circles the sun more than one hundred years before Galileo was prosecuted for the same belief. He was also widely known as a healer, a dabbler in the occult, and predictor of events far into the future. A present day book, The Prophecies of Nostradamus, purports to show that he predicted such specific events as the assassination of John F. Kennnedy, Hitler’s rise to power, the Blockade of Britain, the Common Market, and other far sweeping events. The writings of Nostradamus are, however, exceedingly ambiguous, requiring a great deal of imagination on the part of the reader to even remotely apply them to events claimed as "fulfillments." I personally place no stock in this ancient mystic’s poetic "prophecies." But there is no ambiguity in the prophecies of Isaiah: (1) "Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him, he will bring forth justice to the nations" (42:1). Let us now turn to Matthew 3:16: "As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my son whom I love; with him I am well pleased.’ "

The servant described in Isaiah 53 was to be (2) a suffering servant; "Surely, he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed" (vv. 4, 5). The entire New Testament is testimony to the "Song of the Servant," and in the remarkable economy of God, the wounds and bruises resulted in inclusive wholeness and healing. Unfortunately, there are those who have not embraced the vicarious suffering Christ as relevant for their own cases. Even on Christmas day, combat raged in eastern El Salvador between government troops and leftist rebels. A Roman Catholic priest claims that nearly 7,000 persons died in "blind violence" in the country during the past year. We will not dwell upon world violence and political unrest here, except to say that there are those who remain outside of the peace made possible by the redemptive work of Christ. But for those who have experienced the power of Christ in their lives personally, they have found it to be a strong potion, even in difficult times.

Slightly more than one hundred years ago, an especially gifted young man enrolled in Glasgow University. Anxious to begin academic studies and anticipating his forthcoming marriage, his spirits soared. But how rapidly the wheels of fortune turn. He was suddenly stricken by blindness, and his fiance, not wanting to be married to an invalid, rejected him. The tide had turned against him in a manner which would have devastated a lesser person. However, despite his adversities, he graduated from the university and went on to become one of the greatest preachers in the Church of Scotland. Not out of his despair, but out of his personal relationship with Christ, he wrote a hymn which we lift in praise until this day: "O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go ..." Consequently, not only the New Testament, but individuals like George Matheson the hymnwriter and scores of others who have named the name of Christ, affirm that Isaiah’s prophecy has indeed come to pass.

There is more. The vicarious suffering of Christ was (3) once done, for all, and for all time. Such a sacrifice need never be repeated. I have read where each year, beginning on Ash Wednesday, thousands of Filipino Christians begin Lenten observances by flagellating themselves with whips and heavy branches. The whips have sharp stones and broken pieces of glass affixed to leathered ends. Certain others submit themselves to be actually crucified. Their devotion is admirable, but the gestures in which they engage are both barbaric and unnecessary. We continue to sin, yes, but the redemptive work of Christ at Calvary endures, once done for all time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you had ventured a guess about the future of Jesus' kingdom two thirds of the way through his ministry, how optimistic would you have been?

He grew up in a despised province of the Roman Empire. He was born before his mother's marriage had become official. He did not appear publicly until he was thirty years old, and then he spent most of his ministry time in the commercialized and more heathen northern Israel, away from the religious power center in Jerusalem. After two years he'd gathered a dozen unimpressive disciples and gained a few converts, mostly among the poor and the unlearned. During the last year of his public life he generated such passionate opposition from both the moneyed aristocracy and from religious fundamentalists that they joined forces-an unlikely alliance!-to have him painfully, shamefully executed.

Who would ever predict that from such bleak beginnings a great kingdom would grow?  Jesus did. "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches."

I was reading about steamships. It was a wonderful article in which the author said that the dream of a self-propelled ship had been a dream of humankind for hundreds of years. Then one day the time came when it was theoretically possible, but it was still not practically possible. The dream was kept alive for another hundred years or so by inventors and experimenters, some of whom were considered to be eccentric. Later on people looked back and said of them, they were just ahead of their time.

Then the times changed. The next person to come along was Robert Fulton. It was not so much that Fulton invented the steamboat, but that he just happened to be there when the time was right. As the author wrote, "The inventor's eminence may be more a trick of chronology than anything else, due to being active at the very moment when fruition was possible." It's a wonderful statement. It tells you that timing is everything.

That's what we learn from the Bible. Look at our lesson for this morning. The disciples of John the Baptist come to Jesus, and ask, "Are you the one, or do we look for another?" It is a critical question for John. John has preached that the time has come. The Messiah, he said, is about to appear, so repent, get ready, put your lives in order. He has devoted his whole life to the belief that the time has come. But he is in prison now. He is about to lose his head. So he sends his disciples to ask Jesus, "Are you the one that we have been waiting for, or do we still look for somebody else?"

Terry Anderson is probably the best known of the American hostages kept in Lebanon. Anderson, an Associated Press journalist, was held hostage for 2,454 days! His ordeal began innocently enough on March 16, 1985. As he dropped off his tennis partner after a morning match he noticed a green Mercedes pulled up just ahead of where he was stopped. Suddenly three young men came charging out of the car. Each had a 9-mm pistol hanging loosely on their hip. In a flash they were at Anderson's car window. "Get out," one of the men shouted. "I will shoot." Anderson got out. He was pressed into the back seat of the Mercedes and whisked away. The hostage ordeal for Terry Anderson had begun.

Anderson's first days of captivity were appalling. He was blindfolded most of the time. Held in chains. Interrogated roughly. His mind did not know how to react. Anderson realized that he was on the edge of madness. He was losing control of his capacity to think. "I can't do this anymore," he finally told his captors. "You can't treat me like an animal. I am a human being." When asked what he wanted he replied that he wanted a Bible. Not long afterwards a heavy object landed on his bed. He pulled down his blindfold. It was a Bible. He began to read. In Genesis!

Terry Anderson had been raised in the Catholic Church. Even though he had not been a practicing Catholic for years, however, the Bible came to him as a gift from heaven. He read. He pondered his life. He had lots of time to ponder his life. Too much time to ponder his life. He began a litany of confession in his mind. He confessed that he had hurt his first wife and daughter. He had made many mistakes. He had been a very arrogant person. He wasn't sure that people liked him much. He wasn't sure he liked himself very much.

Later in the first year of his captivity Anderson became aware of the fact that other hostages were living next door. One was a priest. Father Lawrence Jenco. He asked his captors if he could see the priest. "I am a Catholic," he told them. "I want to make a confession."

His wish was granted. Father Jenco came to his room. They both took off their blindfolds. Anderson hardly knew where to begin. It had been 25 years since he had last made confession. Father Jenco was encouraging. Anderson began reciting to this priest the sins he had been reflecting upon. There was much to confess. A bad marriage. Chasing women. Drinking. Anderson found it a very emotional experience. When he finished both he and Father Jenco were in tears. Father Jenco then laid his right hand upon Anderson's head. "In the name of a gentle, loving God, you are forgiven," the priest proclaimed.

Terry Anderson's faith deepened immensely in his hostage years. This moment of confession with Father Jenco, however, was his first formal step back into the church. Self reflection had grown within him out of the darkness of his hostage encounter. It was time to face the light. It was time in his life for a turn around."

In the latter part of the 17th century, German preacher August H. Francke founded an orphanage to care for the homeless children of Halle. One day when Francke desperately needed funds to carry on his work, a destitute Christian widow came to his door begging for a ducat - a gold coin. Because of his financial situation, he politely but regretfully told her he couldn't help her. Disheartened, the woman began to weep. Moved by her tears, Francke asked her to wait while he went to his room to pray. After seeking God's guidance, he felt that the Holy Spirit wanted him to change his mind. So, trusting the Lord to meet his own needs, he gave her the money. Two mornings later, he received a letter of thanks from the widow. She explained that because of his generosity she had asked the Lord to shower the orphanage with gifts. That same day Francke received 12 ducats from a wealthy lady and 2 more from a friend in Sweden. He thought he had been amply rewarded for helping the widow, but he was soon informed that the orphanage was to receive 500 gold pieces from the estate of Prince Lodewyk Van Wurtenburg. When he heard this, Francke wept in gratitude. In sacrificially providing for that needy widow, he had been enriched, not impoverished.

Let us begin by abruptly relating three contemporary examples:

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is how C.S. Lewis understands the doctrine of the Second Coming of our Lord. He said that when the author appears on the stage, you know the play is over. That's good isn't it? When the author appears on the stage - the play is over. No one has ever claimed that this planet earth was intended to exist forever. Scientists call it "the second law of thermodynamics,"The energy supply of this planet will eventually come to an end, which means that a conclusion of life as we know it is inevitable. The concept of the Second Coming merely affirms that such a conclusion will be purposeful. The drama of history is not going to just fizzle out or end in a whimper! It is going to come to the kind of climax that he who conceived the drama wants for it, and it means that he who has begun a good work in you will bring it to the best of conclusion.

There was a young woman living in Washington, D.C. during the Second World War. Her husband, who had been stationed at a nearby Army base, was killed a year earlier during a training exercise - they had been married just four months. During that whole year, this young widow felt more dead than alive. She merely went through the motions of living. Her family and friends were worried about her and wondered if she would ever "snap out of it."

Easter Sunday came along and a friend asked the young widow to go to church with her. It happened that they went to hear the legendary Peter Marshall, who preached in an historic Presbyterian church which still stands in downtown Washington, a few blocks from the White House.

That morning, Peter Marshall spoke of Mary coming to the tomb and how her tears turned to joy. He described the sound of a wind rustling through the tomb as if the breath of God were blowing by. He described the sight of Jesus rising up from that cold, stone slab, swaying a bit on wounded feet and then walking out into the garden. He described the smell, "the whiff of strange scents which must have drifted back to the Man from that tomb, [the smell] of linen and bandages, spices and myrrh, close air and blood ...(Peter Marshall, The First Easter). By the time Peter Marshall finished that sermon, the people in that church felt as if they had been there in the garden to witness the first Easter themselves!

When the service was over, the young widow practically walked on air as she left the church and her friend couldn't believe the change which had come over her. "What happened to you in there?" she asked. "The weight has finally been lifted," the young woman replied; "now I can go on living again."

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

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

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

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

William Barclay wrote in his book The Mind of St. Paul:

"The great value of the doctrine of the Second Coming is that it guarantees that history is going somewhere. We cannot tell how it will happen. We cannot take as literal truth the Jewish pictures of it which Paul used. We need not think of a physical coming of Christ in the clouds, or a physical trumpet blast. But what the doctrine of the Second Coming conserves is the tremendous fact that there is one divine, far-off event to which the whole creation is moving; there is a consummation; there is a final triumph of God."

An advertisement I ran across read: "Now you too can own a Genuine Coin From The Time of Jesus: The Widow's Mite. It's a minor miracle that this coin has survived and now people of faith can study, cherish, and protect it for future generations. It's yet another miracle that they're so affordable."

Then, the ad goes on to quote the Scripture we just heard, "While our limited supplies last, you may order the 2,000 year old Widow's Mite for only $39.95 plus shipping and handling. Remember this is the genuine coin mentioned in the Holy Bible and it makes a perfect gift for your child, grandchild, or favorite clergyman."

The advertisement makes it sound like your buying the actual coin the widow dropped into the receptacle. Of course, you are not. It doesn't exist. Harder still is to purchase the woman's attitude of generosity, which is of greater value in today's market.

Many, many years ago a man moved into a small town. His little house was near the railroad tracks. Every morning he noticed an elderly lady walking along the tracks picking up something and putting it into a bag. The man got curious. He went to a small grocery store nearby and asked the owner about this lady. "Oh, that's the widow Jacobs," said the grocer. "Every day she comes half way across town to pick up the coal that is spilled on the tracks when the early morning train runs through town."

"But there hasn't been a steam locomotive using coal on these tracks for years," replied the new resident.

"That's right," said the store owner. "When the steam train stopped running, old Mr. Simpson who runs the hardware store was concerned that the Widow Jacobs would no longer have coal to heat and cook with. He knew she was too proud to take charity, so he decided to get up early every morning, take a bag of coal and drop it along the tracks. The Widow Jacobs still thinks the steam train runs by here every morning. I think Old Mr. Simpson has been doing that for about 5 years now."

A few lumps of coal dropped along a railroad track each day. It's not much to do, but it's some-thing. I believe God calls each of us to do something to make life better for someone else. That's what this text is saying to us, isn't it?

Before we are too harsh in judging those scribes and Pharisees of Jesus' day, let's stop and look at ourselves. All too many Christians today go to church to find fault, to gossip, and to criticize. Warren Wiersbe, in his book Angry People, wrote,

"An incident in the life of Joseph Parker, the great British preacher, illustrates this tragic truth. He was preaching at the CityTemple in London. After the service one of the listeners came up to him and said, 'Dr. Parker, you made a grammatical error in your sermon.' He then proceeded to point out the error to the pastor. Joseph Parker looked at the man and said, 'And what else did you get out of the message?' What a fitting rebuke!"

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

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

Before commenting directly about Mark 6:30-44, allow me to direct your attention to two Old Testament stories.

1. The first story is found in 2 Kings 4:1-7 and concerns the widow of a prophet whose creditors were about to foreclose her outstanding debt. Additionally, her two sons were to be carried away as slaves. Beside herself, the widow cried out to Elisha for help. Elisha asked her if she had anything in the house of value which might be sold to provide money toward the debt. "Only a partially filled jar of oil," she answered. Elisha surprisingly instructed her to go throughout the community collecting jars to be filled with her oil. We are probably safe to assume that if she did not feel rather foolish, there is a good chance her sons did. Here she went, gathering empty jars to hold the little bit of oil which did not nearly fill the jar it was in. When it was all said and done however, there was more oil than jars to put it in, enough money was available to pay the creditor, and the excess was sufficient for the widow and her boys to live on.

2. The other story is also found in 2 Kings and again deals with excess. A man brought Elisha twenty loaves of barley bread and was instructed by the prophet to feed a rather sizeable gathering. The man asked, "How can I feed 100 men with only twenty loaves of bread?" To make a long story short, let’s read the conclusion of the account: "Then he set it before them and they ate and had some left over" (2 Kings 4:42-44).

The account in Mark 6:30-44 bears striking similarities to the incidents mentioned above, especially the latter. For this reason, the feeding of the 5,000 is understood by many to be Jesus’ confirmation that his ministry was in the prophetic tradition of Elisha and under the authority of God. That is one way to interpret the miracle.

Another explanation was offered years ago by the distinguished Christian, Albert Schweitzer, who believed that the feeding of the 5,000 was an "eschatological sacrament" which was in fact a foretaste, or preview, of the greater feast to be held in the approaching Kingdom of God.

Of course, the simplest explanation is that Jesus was addressing a specific need at a specific time, and that that is the whole of it. However, let us not overlook the emphasis that Mark places upon the miracles of Christ as signs of his authority. We would perhaps be well within the mark to accept all three possibilities as legitimate.

I particularly like the quantity measure in the Elisha stories, the feeding of the 5,000 and other incidents throughout the Scriptures. The provisions were not merely sufficient for the immediate need, but always resulted in excess. Surely that must suggest something to us of the mind of God. His grace and love are more than sufficient for our needs.

Ezra 7:6 - "... this Ezra went up from Babylonia. He was a scribe skilled in the law of Moses which the Lord the God of Israel had given; and the king granted him all that he asked, for the hand of the Lord his God was upon him."

In pagan Greek, the word "scribe," had a variety of meanings, including government secretary, recorder, clerk, and notary. In biblical Greek, however, it had a more specialized meaning, being used to translate the Hebrew word "sopher," a term which had undergone a change in meaning between the days of the Israelite kingdoms and the beginning of the Christian era.

In early biblical Hebrew "sopher" usually designated an important court official. During the first two-thirds of the period of the second commonwealth (@400 B.C. to 1 A.D.), where Judea was successively a province of the Persian, Macedonian, and Roman empires, "sopher" meant an interpreter of scripture. It was in this capacity that Ezra (@ 400 B.C.) was called a scribe. In the early part of the second century B.C. Jesus ben Sirach, the head of a school of wisdom in Jerusalem, celebrated the intellectual and moral pre-eminence of the scribes (Ecclesiastes 8:24--39:11).

During the last three centuries before the beginning of the Christian era the scribes were the professional interpreters and teachers of biblical law and ethics. Since the Jewish community enjoyed cultural autonomy under foreign rules it was premitted to govern itself by its own constitution, namely the Pentateuch. However, the Mosaic laws required interpretation and expansion to meet the needs of this later age and the work in interpretation was undertaken by the scholars whom we call the scribes.

The two leading religious-political parties, the Pharisees and Sadducees, both had their professional scholars and scribes, but as the Pharisees enjoyed greater influence among the Jews as a whole, it was the Pharisaic scribes whose interpretation of the law was considered authoritative by later Rabbinic scholars. It is the Pharisaic scribes who are meant in most of the Gospel references. It should not be noted also that the Gospels treat this word "scribe" as synonymous with "jurist" and "teachers of the Law" (i.e., biblical law).

The chief Jewish legislative and judicial body meeting in Jerusalem from about 200 B.C. to A.D. 70, known as the Great Sanhedrin, was made up of scribes of the Pharisaic party as well as the scribes and priests of the Sadducean party. Which party was in the majority throughout this period we do not know, but sources indicate that on certain matters the opinions of the Pharisaic scribes prevailed.

However, there was a difference in the usage of the word "scribes" between the Jewish and Christian writings of the first two centuries A.D. The Rabbinic sources of this period apply the word to the biblical interpreters and jurists of the period between Ezra and their own time, while the Pharisaic rabbis and scholars of their own time are called "sages," although they performed the same function as the scribes. The latter term was usually applied by them to less eminent persons, such as writers of legal documents, copyists, notaries, and teachers of elementary schools.

When the Gospels speak of scribes as contemporaries of Jesus, they meant the jurists and teachers who were called "sages" by the rabbis.

The chief functions of the scribes throughout the greater part of the second commonwealth were: 1. to interpret the biblical law and to provide new legislation by the construction of the written text or on the basis of the tradition of the leders (the oral law); 2. to give instruction in all fields of knowledge relevant to the study of Scripture; 3. to act as legal advisers to judges and those who administered the law.

Although they became preverted in their interpretations, so that eventually the word of the scribe was honored above that of the Law, and it became a greater crime to offend against the scribes than to break the Law, still we are indebted to them for the preservation of the Old Testament canon, which was formulated almost exactly as we have it today, at the. Council of Jamnia in A.D. 90, by these scribes.

To compare these men with their modern-day counterparts is a little difficult, since we are no longer a theocracy. However, I think we could compare their duties with those of legal advisers to heads of government, on whatever level, or to accomplished and efficient legal secretaries. If you will recall what was said about the doctors of law, I think the same would hold true here also for modern man.