In the old days – I'm talking about the 30s, 40s and 50s here – cars came equipped with a six-volt electrical system.  That's all they needed.  The engines were small – a hundred horsepower, or so – and they had few accessories – a starter (you had to crank the old Model T by hand), windshield wipers, a cigarette lighter and, if you were in tall cotton, an AM radio. 

As cars got bigger and more powerful and loaded with all sorts of accessories – including an air conditioner – the old six-volt system couldn't handle the load.  So, GM, Ford and Chrysler switched over to a twelve-volt system.  The others followed suit.  Twelve volts gave – well, twice as much power as six volts, and it proved to be the ticket.  Even with the big SUVs today, our cars and trucks run on a twelve-volt system. 

So, that's your automotive lesson for today.  The reason I mention it is because, years ago, one of my best friends, frustrated with his wife's unwillingness to embrace new technology, railed out at her and said, "Pat, you're just a six-volt battery in a twelve-volt world."

That accusation has stayed with me through the years. When something new is required do I remain in the old world? Am I a six-volt battery in a twelve-volt world? Are you?

Coming home late one rainy evening, I was short on patience and a bit uptight. It was the pressures of ministry with too much to do and too little time to do it. That evening, I had planned to write a sermon on the joys of discipleship! As I began, I realized I needed a better frame of mind ... more joy in my own discipleship.

As I reflected on the topic, I was reminded that joy is neither something to be tied into weather, nor tied into a work schedule. There is no such thing as more joy-less work, more work-less joy. Christian joy should not be affected by wages: large raise - great joy, no raise - no joy. Joy in discipleship is something that transcends the ups and downs of living. It must be bigger than the shifting sands of existence.

Turning to the Bible, we see what it has to say about joy and its source. It says that there is fullness of joy in the presence of God. Real joy comes from moving into the presence of God and abiding in the love of Christ. When the spirit of God is alive in us, one of the blessings the spirit brings to us is joy.

A Japanese lady asked the headmistress of a mission school, "Do you take only beautiful girls in your school?"

"Why, no, we welcome all girls," was the reply.

"But I’ve noticed that all your girls are beautiful."

"Well," said the missionary, "we teach them to love our Savior Jesus Christ, and he gives them a look of beauty."

"I am a Buddhist, and I do not desire my daughter to become a Christian, yet I should like her to attend your school to get that look on her face."

Recently a distinguished Britisher said that he visited an American home that seemed to have everything - two cars in the garage, a beautiful living room with expensive furniture, a color TV set, a kitchen filled with the latest gadgets, and a large pool and beautiful patio. However, the lady of the house was reading a book entitled, How to Be Happy.

Happiness is to know the Savior. Joy in discipleship is not attachment to things but is attachment to Jesus. This is why Paul and Silas, after being beaten and thrown into prison, could pray and sing hymns to God and thereby witness to the prisoners who listened to them. Joy is a sign of the presence of God in one’s life. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ is to experience a deeper level of joy.

Christianity is a religion of joy and excitement. There is nothing unhappy about it. It is for people who want the joy that comes from being involved in something worthwhile. Once you taste the joys of discipleship, you’ll notice that your life will have more meaning. You will even want to return for a second helping.

Martin Copenhaver, Pastor of the Wellesley Congregational Church, offers a vision of what God's Banquet Feast might be like: When God is throwing a party, you never know who will be there or whom you will sit next to. The financier will be seated next to the panhandler he always passed on his way to work. The store owner will be next to the person he just fired, and the doctor will be put next to the woman who just sued him for malpractice. Rush Limbaugh may be beside Barack Obama. A prostitute will sit next to the Pope.

All the "right" people will be there; that is everyone who responds to God's invitation ... and seated next to the host (Jesus) in the places of honor are not the dignitaries, the celebrities, the distinguished people of position and prominence, but rather the poor, the hurting, the outcast people who have distinguished themselves only by their need." (Library of Distinctive Sermons, vol. 2, Multnomah Press, p. 48)

I might add to Copenhaver's vision that at that Banquet Feast, everyone will get along famously. And that at that Banquet Feast, you and I may well find ourselves seated next to, and engaging in conversation with, people we presently can't stand (or who can't stand us). But the old anger, hurt, and grudges will be gone, and reconciliation will come. At God's Table, the barriers that keep people apart rich/poor, upperclass/lowerclass, black/white, Republican/Democrat, gay/straight, friend/foe, the dividing walls of hostility will come smashing down. The crash will be greater than the fall of the Berlin Wall. God's Banquet Feast will be the most remarkable party ever thrown!

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?

In Scripture we see several purposes for fasting. It's part of the discipline of self-control; it's a way of sharing that we depend on God alone and draw all our strength and resources from him; it's a way of focusing totally on him when seeking his guidance and help, and of showing that you really are in earnest in your quest; it's also, at times, an expression of sorrow and deep repentance, something that a person or community will do in order to acknowledge failure before God and seek his mercy.

We tend to think of fasting as going without food. But we can fast from anything. If we love music and decide to miss a concert in order to spend time with God, that is fasting. It is helpful to think of the parallel of human friendship. When friends need to be together, they will cancel all other activities in order to make that possible. There's nothing magical about fasting. It's just one way of telling God that your priority at that moment is to be alone with him, sorting out whatever is necessary, and you have cancelled the meal, party, concert, or whatever else you had planned to do in order to fulfill that priority.

Luke tells the same parable in a simpler, less militant way. (Luke 14:16-24)  According to Luke, the host invited three friends, but each was predisposed.  One had just bought some land, another five yoke of oxen, and another had just gotten married. Given the particulars, each had a reasonable excuse.  Years ago, a friend of mine put this together in a song and sang it to the tune of "The Beverly Hillbillies."  It went like this:

"I cannot come to the banquet, excuse me, I pray,
I've just bought a field, I must gather my hay;
I hate to miss the party, and I know this sounds dumb,
Pray, Lord, excuse me, I cannot come.

"I cannot come to the banquet, excuse me, dear sir,
I've just bought a cow, and her cream I must stir;
I hate to miss the party, all the food and the fun,
Pray, Lord, excuse me, I cannot come.

"I cannot come to the banquet, excuse me, my Lord,
I've just married a wife, and I gave her my word;
I hate to miss the party, and all that good rum,
Pray, Lord, excuse me, I cannot come.

"I cannot come to the banquet, I'm too busy, you see,
Perhaps another time would be better for me;
I know the table's ready, and I feel like a bum:
Pray, Lord, excuse me, I cannot come!"

Either way, the message is the same: Whatever your excuse, the kingdom must go on.  God is at work reconciling the world to himself and, if we're too busy or, for whatever reason, unwilling to be part of this ministry of reconciliation, God will choose others to do his bidding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clarence Forseburg, one of the great pulpiteers of Methodism, tells of a story that occurred to him several years ago. He was on the campus of Nebraska Wesleyan talking to a group of students who had expressed an interest in the ministry. When asked how many of them were definitely committed to going into the parish ministry, only one raised their hand. One young lady spoke up and said: "I have a problem with your use of the word commitment. That sounds very binding and restricting.”

Bishop Kenneth Carder of Tennessee recently wrote: “The church of today has become an institution in which even belief in God is optional or peripheral. Marketing techniques for a multiple option institution have replaced response to the Gospel of Jesus Christ as the means of membership enlistment. The basic appeal is to self-defined needs rather than a call to radical discipleship. The church’s mission all too often is to meet it’s members perceived needs rather than to serve God’s need for a redeemed, reconciled, and healed world.”

Our concept of consumerism has crept into the church. To recruit persons and to be marketable we think that we need to be able to say: Look what our church can offer you.

In this atmosphere of a sorority rush party, talk of discipleship is muted. Discipleship means knowing who Jesus Christ is and following the revelation made known to us in his teaching, death, resurrection, and presence.

Now I would like to stop the world for just one minute and ask you to think back. Think back with me to the first century. Think about those 50 years after Jesus' death and what it must been like for Jesus' disciples. Before the last one died their efforts had brought 500,000 men, women, and children into the ranks of the church. But what they had to suffer in order to accomplish this task is seldom discussed. We like the outcome of their discipleship but we don't want to hear the cost of discipleship. So for the record here is the cost: History tells us...

1. John died of extreme old age exiled to the island of Patmos.
2. Judas Iscariot, after betraying his Lord, hanged himself.
3. Peter was crucified; head downward, during the persecution of Nero.
4. Andrew died on a cross at Patrae, a Grecian Colony.
5. James, the younger, son of Alphaeus, was thrown from a pinnacle of the Temple, and then beaten to death with a club.
6. Bartholomew was flayed alive in Albanapolis, Armenia.
7. James, the elder son of Zebedee, was beheaded at Jerusalem.
8. Thomas, the doubter, was run through the body with a lance at Coromandel, in the East Indies.
9. Philip was hanged against a pillar at Heropolis.
10. Thaddeus was shot to death with arrows.
11. Simon died on a cross in Persia (what we now call Iran.)
12. Matthew was first stoned and then beheaded.

What sacrifices! And I ask you why? Why did they choose to die this way? Why desert your father and mother, your wife and child, and your home? Why put up with the constant humiliation, and hunger, and persecution, and defeat town after town after town?

I'll tell you why, because, in the words of Apostle Paul, they were held captive by the words and teachings of Jesus Christ. It is Paul's way of saying they were slaves to Christ.

It is quite likely we shall never be tested to the extent that the disciples were but there are some ways to gauge our commitment. Let's look at a couple this morning...

1.  Sacrifice is a sign of mature commitment.
2.  Hospitality is a sign of discipleship.
3.  A cup of water is a sign that Christ is welcome.

Tolstoy told a story of a Czar and Czarina who wished to honor the members of their court with a banquet. They sent out invitations and requested that the guests come with the invitations in their hands. When they arrived at the banquet the guests were surprised to discover that the guards did not look at their invitations at all. Instead they examined their hands. The guests wondered about this, but they were also curious to see who the Czar and Czarina would choose as the guest of honor to sit between them at the banquet. They were flabbergasted to see that it was the old scrub woman who had worked to keep the palace clean for years. The guards, having examined her hands, declared, "You have the proper credentials to be the guest of honor. We can see your love and loyalty in your hands." 

A similar story is told of the great missionary to Burma, Adoniram Judson. Judson went to the King of Burma to ask him if he might have permission to go to a certain city to preach. The King, a pagan, but quite an intelligent man responded, "I'm willing for a dozen preachers to go but not you, not with those hands. My people are not such fools as to take notice of your preaching but they will note those calloused, work scarred hands. I worry that you will turn the whole kingdom to your god."

One of the rarest management skills and one of the most difficult to learn is how to criticize constructively. Constructive criticism shows consideration for other people's feelings and invites their suggestions and cooperation. When you can't figure out how to criticize something constructively, the wisest course is to keep your mouth shut until you do. Criticism that starts out by attacking people and putting them in the position of having to defend themselves often turns small problems into big ones. Usually the best way to start is with simple, friendly questions, queries that will give people a chance to explain their position without them being offended and without getting excited. Then, after you've listened carefully, suggest the changes you'd like them to make and ask what they think of the suggestions.

Don't push for an immediate decision if it isn't necessary, or if there is still substantial disagreement. Ask them to think it over. Tell them you will too. Later, if you still believe in the changes you want to make, get together with them again. Explain that you've thought it over carefully and still believe the idea is worth a try. Tell them you feel an obligation to give it a fair chance, and you're counting on them to do the same.

One other important point; when you have to criticize or question someone's actions or ideas, always do it to their face. Discuss it with the person involved, privately if possible. Don't let him or her hear your criticism secondhand.

Remains Of The Day is a powerful movie starring Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson. Hopkins plays the role of the chief butler at a large estate in England. Emma Thompson plays his chief assistant. The movie is set in the years immediately preceding and succeeding World War II.

The butler is the central figure in the film. He has come by his trade naturally. His father was a butler before him. The estate, therefore, is the only home he has ever known. He knows no other life. In this world he is a man of absolute dependability. He runs the large estate staff like clockwork. He is a model of efficiency. He is also a man who seems to have no emotions whatsoever. One evening, for example, while the staff is busily serving a marvelous banquet the butler is called aside. His father, who also works and lives at the estate, has taken ill. The butler goes quietly to his father's room. He finds his father is dying. He takes care of matters quite efficiently and goes back to the demands of the banquet. Not a tear is shed.

The head of the estate in these pre-war years in England is a man who has great sympathy for the German cause. Many meetings are held at his estate as he seeks to enlighten others in the cause of his sympathy. Much pro-Nazi discussion takes place around the ornately crafted tables of the estate. The butler is right there in the midst of all this. He hears the discussions but it seems to make no impression upon him whatsoever.

After the war the butler receives a warm letter from the woman who had in years past been his chief assistant at the estate. This was a woman who was greatly attracted to the butler. The butler either did not notice her attraction to him or he did not know how to comport himself in the presence of this beautiful woman. No one had ever taught him about love. At any rate, in response to her letter the butler gets the use of one of the cars of the estate to go and visit her with an eye to hiring her back to her old position. Watching the movie one hopes that, at long last, love will come to full bloom between these kindly souls. The entire movie works to build our suspense about this matter. She sends out all the clues in the world to him that she is interested more in him than in a position at the estate. But the butler cannot hear. The butler cannot see.

On his way to speak with his former assistant his car breaks down. He finds himself waiting for help at a local pub. The patrons of the pub ask where he is from. He mentions the estate. At first they mistakenly assume that he might own the estate. They ask him many questions. He can answer none of them. Two distinguished looking gentlemen get into the discussion with the butler. They have sized him up as a common man. They ask him his impressions of the former head of his estate. "Do you agree with the positions of your master?" they inquire. "What do you think of the war?"

The questions totally confuse the butler. "No, I don't have an opinion on that. No, I don't understand that." Those who have put the questions to him laugh at this common man who understands nothing. Just as they thought! The audience is left puzzled. The butler has heard many discussions at his master's estate concerning the war. He has been there. He has heard. He has seen. But he has heard and seen nothing. The butler cannot hear. The butler cannot see. "

Washington, D.C. March 30, 1863

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

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Jews attached great importance to the high moments of life. Thus a wedding was not just a brief ceremony, but an experience shared by the entire community. The typical wedding feast could last up to seven days. That sounds strange to our modern way of thinking, but this offered a bright interlude in an otherwise dreary existence. The ceremony would begin on Tuesday at midnight. After the wedding the father of the bride would take his daughter to every house so that everyone might congratulate her. It was a community experience. Weddings were a time of joy.

Years ago when Johnny Carson was the host of The Tonight Show he interviewed an eight year old boy. The young man was asked to appear because he had rescued two friends in a coal mine outside his hometown in West Virginia. As Johnny questioned the boy, it became apparent to him and the audience that the young man was a Christian. So Johnny asked him if he attended Sunday school. When the boy said he did Johnny inquired, "What are you learning in Sunday school?" "Last week," came his reply, "our lesson was about when Jesus went to a wedding and turned water into wine." The audience roared, but Johnny tried to keep a straight face. Then he said, "And what did you learn from that story?" The boy squirmed in his chair. It was apparent he hadn't thought about this. But then he lifted up his face and said, "If you're going to have a wedding, make sure you invite Jesus!" The little boy was on to something. Weddings are time of Joy.

At the wedding, which Jesus attended in Cana of Galilee, there was great joy but a problem developed. There was a shortage of wine. Not only was that a social embarrassment, it was also a symbol. For a wedding to run out of wine was an omen that there was little chance of this particular marriage reaching its full potential, maybe joy was not meant for this couple.

So Mary approaches Jesus and asks him to do something. His response? “Why do you involve me woman?” Sounds harsh, so unlike him, and it has long puzzled biblical scholars. But you have to look at this scene in its historical context. Jesus, at this moment, had not performed a single miracle. He was thirty years old and he had just gathered together his disciples. He knows

that if he performs a miracle, a clock will start ticking and it will not stop until he gets to Calvary. Crowds will flock; investigators will be dispatched. Is this the appropriate moment? Jesus thus makes his move and gives his first public sign that he is different; he transforms water into wine. It is a crucial moment for Jesus and the disciples. Let's take a look at:

1. The Miraculous Sign
2. His Glory Revealed
3. Their Faith Begun

I feel sorry for the guys
Who criticize and minimize
The other guys
Whose enterprise
Has made them rise
Above the guys
Who criticize and minimize.

An old man named Calvin had lived a good life as a farmer for years. One day an evangelist came to the community, and, in the course of his stay, visited Calvin and asked him what denomination he was.   Calvin answered the question like this: "When my grain gets ready for selling, after I've harvested it and packaged it, I can take it to town by any one of three roads " the river road, the dirt road, or the highway. But when I get my grain to town and go to the buyer to sell him what I have, he never looks at me and asks, ˜Calvin, which road did you take to get your grain to town?' What he does do is ask me if my grain is any good." 

Friend, is your grain good  - the grain of your discipleship? That's all that really matters. When we get to Heaven we will probably find some (Roman Catholics) and some (Baptists) and some (Presbyterians). And they'll be just as surprised to see us as we will to see them. But we will all belong to just one fellowship. Let's call it the Fellowship of the Bearers of Cold Water. We will all be people who have lived out our discipleship through acts of kindness to others.

"For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ." (v. 12)

There was a man who had a dream one night that he had died. In his dream he found himself in a large room. The room had a very large banquet table filled with different kinds of food. There were people seated around the table but they were seated five feet away from the table. In his dream, the people were very hungry and wanted to eat but were unable to get out of their chairs. To make matters worse their arms were not long enough to be able to reach out and obtain the food.

As the man looked more closely, he saw a very large spoon that was five feet long that the people were fighting over for possession. In his dream, he watched with amazement how one person used the spoon to dish up some food and then carefully turned the spoon around toward his mouth with all the food falling off the spoon and onto the floor. Then another person grabbed the spoon but was unable to feed himself because of the length of the spoon.

Then the man turned to his guide and said: "This is hell; to have food and not be able to eat it." The guide replied, "Where do you think you are? This is hell. But this is not your place. Come with me." The guide took him to another room that was also filled with a large banquet table and delicious food. In this room, there was also a large spoon with a handle that was five feet long. However, in this room no one was fighting. Instead, one person would take the spoon and use it to feed another. They in turn would use the spoon to return the favor. The guide turned to the man and said, "This is heaven."

Source: Robert Schuller, Be an Extraordinary Person in an Ordinary World (Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell Company), p. 113."

Robert Coles, the psychiatrist, writes a lot of books, teaches at Harvard. He wrote a book about Dorothy Day. In the book there is this anecdote. Dorothy Day, as you know, is that famous Catholic social worker, the founder of the Catholic Worker. When Coles was a medical student at Harvard, he volunteered to work at the Catholic Worker. He was a Harvard graduate. He was in medical school. He was going to be a psychiatrist. In this society, that is about as high a status as you can get. He knew that. He was really proud of it. He was also proud that as this person with all these credentials, he was volunteering to help the poor. It was the kind of thing people would sit up and take notice of.

He arrived at the premises of the Catholic Worker. He asked to see Dorothy Day. He went right to the top. The person said that she was in the kitchen. He went into the kitchen, saw her sitting at a table, talking to someone. He had enough medical training to recognize that the man that she was talking to was addicted to some dangerous substance. He was disheveled. He was obviously a homeless street person. She was sitting at table with him, listening intently to what he had to say. Now I want you to have in mind Jesus' parable of the banquet and the seats at the table, and where you are supposed to be at that banquet.

She is at table with this street person, giving him her full attention. So she didn't notice Coles come in the room. He stood beside the door, waited for her to finish. When she finished the conversation she stood up. That is when she noticed Coles. She asked, "Do you want to speak to one of us?"

He was astounded. Dorothy Day was famous. This man with her was a nobody. He's a derelict. "You wanted to speak to one of us?" Coles had never seen anything like this before. Humility that can identify with another person so completely as to remove all distinctions between them. It cut through all of the boundaries, all the categories that society sets up to separate us from one another. There were just two people, brother and sister, the sister concerned about the brother.

It changed his life. He said he learned more in one moment than he did in four years at Harvard. He saw in one moment what it means to humble yourself as our Lord did, "who did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but humbled himself, and took on the form of a servant."

For he who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted.

A man by the name of Mallory led an expedition to try to conquer Mt. Everest in the 1920s. The first expedition failed, as did the second. Then, with a team of the best quality and ability, Mallory made a third assault. But in spite of careful planning and extensive safety precautions, disaster struck. An avalanche hit and Mallory and most of his party were killed. When the few who did survive returned to England, they held a glorious banquet saluting the great people of Mallory's final expedition. As the leader of the survivors stood to acknowledge the applause, he looked around the hall at the framed pictures of Mallory and his comrades who had died. Then he turned his back to the crowds to face the huge picture of Mt. Everest which stood looming like a silent, unconquerable giant behind the banquet table. With tears streaming down his face, he addressed the mountain on behalf of Mallory and his dead friends. "I speak to you, Mt. Everest, in the name of all brave men living and those yet unborn. Mt. Everest, you defeated us once; you defeated us twice; you defeated us three times. But, Mt. Everest, we shall someday defeat you, because you can't get any bigger and we can."

Millions of Christians have been inspired by the life and death of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor and theologian who was killed during World War II.

Bonhoeffer was as outspoken concerning the sins of Adolf Hitler as John the Baptist was about the sins of Herod. Friends in the United States and England, knowing the probable consequences of opposing Hitler, arranged for Bonhoeffer to leave Germany. After a few months, however, Bonhoeffer knew he must return to his homeland. There he preached ever more strongly against what was happening to his people. Needless to say, he aroused great opposition. Soon he was forced to go underground. Later he was imprisoned. There he was executed.

Out of his struggles he wrote a monumental work, The Cost of Discipleship. It stands as an eternal judgment of those who want Christ but do not want to bear a cross. John the Baptist understood the cost of discipleship. He knew what it was to sacrifice everything in answer to God's call.

Let me give you a modern day illustration of a man whom I believe both understood and exemplified Jesus' words on self-denial, cross-bearing and following Him. Some of you may be familiar with the name Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He was a Lutheran pastor who lived in Germany during the Second World War. Convinced that it was his Christian duty to work within his own country for the defeat of Adolf Hitler, Bonhoeffer became a part of an underground resistance movement. Unfortunately, his involvement was discovered and he was sent to a prison camp. He never returned. In 1945, at the age of 39, he was executed by hanging, just as War II was ending. We may not share in all of his views, but by any and all definitions he is a 20th century Christian martyr.

By the time of his death he had already done quite a bit of writing. Perhaps his best-known work (still available and popular today) is entitled, "The Cost of Discipleship." In it he offers many thought provoking statements on the Christian life. One of the phrases he uses over and over again (and something he accuses many modern Christians of buying into) is the concept of "cheap grace."

Listen to how he defines it: "Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our church. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ."

Not long ago, a hard-rock singer reknowned for his notorious over indulgence in mind-altering drugs appeared on television to scream, lunge, and gyrate through one of his bestselling songs. Inasmuch as the rather badly garbled words were totally incomprehensible to me, I turned my attention to the bizarre, uninhibited attire of this widely heralded "artist." Not to dwell on the flamboyance of his appearance, I wish only to point out that dangling from an expensive chain around his neck was a large cross. Perhaps it was there as a counterstatement, a message of rebellion to institutional religion, or perhaps he simply counted it as an attractive piece of jewelry. I do not know. But more and more, the cross is appearing on necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and the like as fashionable symbols, which is all right, I suppose, except that the behavior of those brandishing them is not always consistent with what the cross represents. If a person in ancient Rome had adorned himself with a cross, it would have been the equivalent of someone today wearing the likeness of the electric chair around his neck. The cross was originally not considered to be a thing of beauty. It conveyed pain, humiliation, and death. It still does, except in the Christian context. Another dimension was added to Calvary ... victory.

Jesus issued a call to discipleship, but the invitation contained an inherent inhibitor: "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." A cross of adornment or embellishment was not what Jesus had in mind. Self-denial and risking the consequences of following the way of Christ are at the heart of the call to discipleship.

In the eighteenth century, a German artist, Stenberg, was walking through the market place of his home town when he was attracted to the face of a dancing gypsy girl. He invited her to sit for him in his studio as a model. Accepting his invitation, she enabled Stenberg to paint his famous "Dancing Gypsy Girl." There is more. The young girl was greatly impressed by what she saw in the artist’s studio, particularly a painting in progress titled "Crucifixion." Arrested by the painting, she said one day to Stenberg, "He must have been a very bad man to have been nailed to a cross like that." Stenberg replied, "No, he was a good man. The best man who ever lived. Indeed, he died for all men." The girl asked, "Did he die for you?" Stenberg had never really made such a personal application of his explanation. He was led to search the Scriptures, and in a few short weeks, he discovered the answer and surrendered himself to Christ. Returning to his painting of the "Crucifixion," he added these words beneath the likeness of Christ on the cross: "This I did for thee; what hast thou done for me?" There is more. A young aristocratic count, Zinzendorf by name, chanced to observe the painting, paused to meditate at both the depiction and the words, and was so moved that he went on to found the Moravians.

There are elements of power and attraction about the cross. There also is an inaudible appeal: "This I did for thee; what hast thou done for me?" Have we denied ourselves and taken up our cross, whatever it may be, and followed him?

While the divorce culture has become a fact of life, the middle class has turned weddings into overwrought exercises in consumer spending, as if by just plunking down enough cash for the flower girls' dresses and tissue-lined envelopes for the RSVP cards, we can somehow improve our chance of going the distance. But in our culture, as marriage means less and less, we spend more and more on our weddings. 

Caitlin Flanagan, the american writer says, "What we teach about the true meaning of marriage will determine a great deal about our fate."

Listening is not just passive hearing. It is an active participating experience in which you pay genuine attention to what the other person is saying. Here are some principles that should help you become a better listener:

1. Don’t grab the conversation: “Yes, now take me, for instance …”
2. Don’t let your gaze wander from the other person’s face except momentarily.
3. Validate the feelings of the other: “Yes, I see what you mean.”
4. Don’t interrupt.
5. Don’t try to top the other person’s story or joke.
6. Don’t criticize.
7. Ask appropriate questions: “What happened then?” or “How did you feel?”
8. Don’t argue.

A young American found himself seated next to a Chinese diplomat at a banquet.  He really didn’t know that this was a very learned man, that he was indeed a diplomat.

Not knowing what to say to a Chinese, the young man stupidly asked, “Likee soupee?”

The diplomat nodded and smiled.  Later, Wellington Coo, this man seated by the young fellow, was called on to speak.  He delivered an eloquent address in flawless English.  As he sat down to the sound of applause, he turned to the young American and said, “Likee speechee?”

We had better not judge folks prematurely, lest we find out that it is we who are being judged, not they!

Pastor David Leininger knows weddings can be adventures. He says he will never forget a wedding several years ago that went just beautifully until the very end of the ceremony. In that tender moment when bride and groom kissed, the bride's five-year-old brother, the ring bearer, let out with a "YUK!" The congregation was on the floor laughing. As people left that afternoon, the place glowed with everyone's grins. And in years to come, when people think of that wedding, the one thing they remember is YUK!

In a way, that is what we are confronted with in our gospel lesson. This one ALMOST became one of those weddings to remember and for a reason which would have mortified the bride and groom. They had almost run out wine.

"The man I ate dinner with tonight killed my brother." The words, spoken by a stylish woman at a PF banquet in Seattle, amazed me. She told how John H. had murdered her brother during a robbery, served 18 years at Walla Walla, then settled into life on a dairy farm, where she had met him in 1983, 20 years after his crime. Compelled by Christ's command to forgive, Ruth Youngsman had gone to her enemy and pronounced forgiveness. Then she had taken him to her father's deathbed, prompting reconciliation.

Some wouldn't call this a success story: John didn't dedicate his life to Christ. But at that PF banquet last fall, his voice cracked as he said, "Christians are the only people I know that you can kill their son, and they'll make you a part of their family. I don't know the Man Upstairs, but He sure is hounding me."

John's story was unfinished; he hadn't yet accepted Christ. But just as Christ died for us regardless of our actions or acceptance, so Ruth forgave him without qualification. Even more so, she became his friend.

Another set of "money-changers" in the church is consumerism. Church members have bought into the concept of consumerism. They don't see themselves as servants, but as customers to be waited upon. Complaints about the church are frequently followed with the expression: "I do pay my money." That is consumerism. It is a way of saying: I am the one who is to be served.

When a church buys into consumerism, they go about meeting the defined needs of the customers, rather than meeting God's need for a redeemed world. Too often people treat church membership as though they are selecting a supermarket rather than a relationship. The call of Christ is not for consumers; it is for disciples. If we treat church members as consumers, then at what point do they quit becoming customers and start becoming missionaries.

To make matters worse too many churches attempt to market themselves and in the process of developing a market strategy the subtle message is released: discipleship and missions are optional. Friends, they are not optional. The call of Christ is: You must loose your life in order to save your life. We dare not fall down before the idol of institutional success.

When consumerism gets into the church, more time is spent on membership and expenditures than God's dream of the Good News proclaimed, justice administered, and inclusiveness and healing accomplished. Discipleship cannot be seen as a church option, alongside volleyball and jazzercise.

Likewise, worship cannot be viewed as a weekly variety show, but an opportunity for us to get in touch with the Transcendent God. And yes, clergy are guilty as well. Too much time is spent encouraging people to think positive about their sin.

Isn't there a tendency on our part to try to discredit the experience of others when we are intimidated by their experience? Think about it for a moment. Haven't you ever felt threatened by a close friend, or even a family member, who moved to a new level of Christian commitment, and began to take his or her Christian discipleship more seriously?

Maybe she began to talk more - to witness. You've not heard this sort of language before, not from a person like her, President of the Junior League or the Garden Club. She talks about "being born again" or about prayers being answered in such an explicit manner...and somehow, we feel threatened.

Or, he decides he needs to deepen his involvement with Jesus, and so he goes to serve in the Salvation Army's Soup Kitchen or to help build a home for a poor family. It's so out-of-character with this white-collar executive. He even talks about meeting Jesus in the poor whom he serves! And maybe he even begins to criticize the church for its self-serving attitude and low level of involvement in community issues - like homelessness, hunger, child abuse....

Both of them join a weekly prayer or Bible study group and they love to talk about how they see Jesus changing people's lives, and that's just a bit much! That's taking this "Jesus thing" too far!

You see, our religious neutrality, our middle of the road faith, is threatened "whenever someone we know well takes spiritual commitments seriously and refuses any longer to play hide-and—seek and touch-and-go with the living God." (Carl F. H. Henry, Ibid, p. 149)

So we try to discredit it all. "He's beside himself".

I read the words of Dr. Meyer Friedman, who said that lifestyle and creative use of leisure can be more important than diet and exercise in preventing heart attacks. Obviously a balance among all three is most desirable. I have observed many people who have paid attention to the body and diet and have neglected the spirit and are dying inside.

Dr. Friedman gives suggestions for people to live less frantic lives by living more by the calendar than the clock: 1. Stop thinking about several things at one time. 2. Listen without interrupting. 3. Read books that demand concentration (games, too). 4. Avoid irritating people. 5. Plan for some personal quiet time each day. 6. Finally, things worth being are better than things worth having.

Remember the people who were here first. The Native Americans had an ability to live by the ages rather than by the day. Among certain tribes in North America were those who would make decisions for the tribe based on how that decision would affect people seven generations into the future!

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 farmer was being questioned by a lawyer during a trial concerning an accident on a highway. The lawyer asked the farmer, "Is it true, Mr. Jones, that when the highway patrol officer came over to you after the accident, you said, 'I feel fine'?"

Farmer Jones began to answer by saying, "Well, now, me and my cow Bessie were driving down the highway in my pickup truck when..." At this point the attorney interrupted, saying, "Please just answer my question with a yes or a no; did you say to the officer, 'I feel fine'?" Farmer Jones then tried to answer the question again. He said, "Well, now, me and my cow Bessie were driving down the highway in my pickup truck when..." The attorney stopped him again and this time asked the judge to intervene. He said, "Your honor, would you please instruct the witness to simply answer my question with a yes or a no." The judge said, "Why don't we just let him tell his story?"

So, Farmer Jones told his story. "Me and my cow Bessie were driving down the highway in my pickup truck. Bessie, of course, was in the bed of the truck. I heard a loud bang and knew that I had blown out a tire. The truck went flying off the road and landed in a ditch. I went flying out of the truck on one side of the highway and Bessie landed on the other side. When I woke up, the highway patrol officer came over to me and said that Bessie was in awful shape. He then went back over to Bessie, pulled out his gun and shot her dead. Then he came over to me and asked me how I felt and I said, " 'I feel fine, just fine.' "

Fear causes us to do things and say things that we might not do otherwise. Fear can be a powerful motivator in our lives. Too often fear is a destructive force with little redeeming value. In this scripture reading, the Apostle Paul encourages us to "let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts...." He even goes on to say that we have been called to this experience of peace in Jesus Christ. We were built and designed by God to be a people of faith, not fear. Faith in the one who redeems us will lead to peace.

Source: Parables, Etc. (Platteville, Colorado: Saratoga Press), October 1991. Used by permission.

Years ago, Bob Vogelbaugh of Moline, Illinois, noticed that many of the customers at his grocery store made no special plans for Thanksgiving.  Some of them were single and had no family with which to celebrate the holidays.  Some were elderly and didn't want to travel far for the family gatherings.  Vogelbaugh invited a couple dozen of his customers to his store on Thanksgiving day, where he prepared a feast for them.  The community Thanksgiving gathering was such a hit that Vogelbaugh made it a yearly tradition.  Today they call him Mr. Thanksgiving. In 2020 he was still going strong marking his 50th year providing a free Thanksgiving banquet to more than 2,000 residents of Moline.

For the Christian, life is idyllic. As you embrace Christ, your problems become opportunities, heartaches turn into joys, and bad times fade into the past. Your career succeeds as it never has. Your relationship with those around you is enhanced. Unkind words once directed toward you no longer make their way to your ears. Temptation runs against you, then retreats in dismay. Money is no longer a problem, for you’ll have more than enough. Lovely flowers moving in the fresh breeze send their fragrance your way as the warming rays of the sun fill your body with the feeling of health and beautiful harmony with God and nature. You are God’s special person. He spares you from pain, problems, and poverty.

Hogwash, unmitigated hogwash - more like heresy. If Christianity is as I have just described it, then all of us must be wondering whether we really are Christians. Although our walk with Jesus brings us many blessings that will enhance our lives, the Evil One does not roll over and play dead when we follow Christ but continues to dog us as we make our way through life. Following Jesus Christ also brings with it a degree of suffering as our selfishness is lost to service and discipleship. And as we struggle to be what we are, children of God through Baptism, it is often hard and painful. Christ suffered, his followers suffered, we too will have the privilege of suffering.

Those of us who try to live a moral life in society that is so permissive know the suffering that sometimes accompanies our uniqueness. Often, others look at us in disbelief when we stand for something because it’s right rather than because it’s expedient. To them we appear as losers. But for us to do less is to march to a different drum beat than the one Jesus sounds. Jesus puts it this way, "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." To lead a winning Christian life, we lose our selfishness and replace it with selflessness.

Our march through life does not end at the grave but moves beyond. Our vision is both present and future, in this world and the next. Courageously we meet the world, proclaiming the glory of the Lord in word and deed and find strength through him to overcome whatever conflicts our faith might encounter. Leaning on him we seek his Spirit’s power to help us deny ourselves, to bear his cross, and to even suffer for the Gospel’s sake. With Christ we desire that everyone might become his children through faith and join him and us at the Father’s house in eternity.

When we arrive, God will look us over - not for medals, or awards, or degrees, but for scars. Finding them, he will declare, "Ah, a wise person who understood that winning meant losing."

Brennan Manning in his book, The Signature of Jesus, writes, "We have made it too easy to be a Christian. The sole requirements are the recitation of a creed and attendance at a local church where there is no community and little fellowship.  Christianity used to be risky business; it is no longer. Cost-free discipleship produces wimps."

In the summer of 1971 I had gone to Munich to study German. It was my first time in "the Fatherland," and I suppose I had half expected to find blond, blue-eyed kids yodeling on street corners, or adults heading to work in Lederhosen humming Beethoven's 9th.  Instead, blaring from every Italian Pizza Parlor, every Turkish shish kabob stall or ubiquitous McDonald's was the 1971 Lynn Anderson hit song, "I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden."

Some of you may even remember the words: it was a rather banal ditty, uttering the commonplace wisdom that sunshine and rain are part of every life. But hearing this American hit song in Munich played havoc with my expectations. In fact, it was such a culture shock that the memory remains vivid even today, three decades later.

Two millennia later Mark's Gospel continues to recall the culture shock the apostles had when the cost of discipleship finally dawned on them; when their expectations of the reign of God came face-to-face with hard-nosed reality; when fascination and enthusiasm with this Jesus began to be transformed into self-sacrificing commitment.

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!"

Author Max Lucado once put it this way in envisioning what Jesus might say to this rich young man: "What you want costs far more than what you can pay. You don't need a system, you need a Savior. You don't need a resume, you need a Redeemer . . . God does not save us because of what we've done. Only a puny god could be bought with tithes. Only an egotistical god would be impressed with our pain. Only a temperamental god could be satisfied by sacrifices. Only a heartless god would sell salvation to the highest bidders."

Lucado concluded: A great God does for his children what they can't do for themselves. This man's wealth could not buy him a place at the table of God. But the banquet was already spread. All he had to do was take and eat.

England's Prince Philip was toasted at a banquet once with two lines from John Dryden:

A man so various that he seem'd to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome.

The prince liked the lines so much he looked up the rest of the poem:

Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;
Was everything by starts, and nothing long:
But, in the course of one revolving moon,
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.

The 96th Psalm is closely comparable with 1 Chronicles 16:23-26. Psalm 29:2 also contains the words, "Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness." The New Revised Standard Version translated Psalm 96:9 to read, "Worship the Lord in holy splendor; tremble before him all the earth." Older people have long been accustomed to using the words from the King James Version.

Worship ought to be made beautiful in sight, sound, and thought. The physical settings of worship experiences serve to enhance and reinforce the yearning for understanding and completeness. This may be illustrated by a question: "Would you rather have a picnic on a graveled area in the heat of the sun, or where there is verdure of grass, and the shade of trees?" Worship is best when the scene is not barren, but blessed with good architecture, beauty of color, protection from the elements, and in the presence of an altar, giving it sacred significance.

We need to remember that truth is not only conveyed by words. It is also shared in feelings, situational inclusion, comfortable meditation and contemplation, which nurtures us. But worship can also take place in foxholes of distress, danger, and despair. God's messages and our responses do not always come in pretty packages with liturgical decorations. Sometimes they come in moments of destitution, hunger, inner distress, pain, and loneliness. What we make of what we learn at such times turns the place of discovery into a temple, and we worship in the beauty of holiness because we have found a relationship that truly enriches life.

Worship may take place in prison, a hospital or a nursing home; in a cemetery, a forest, or in a barren desert. It was in a desert setting that Jesus dealt with his temptations and life determinations, as he recalled Deuteronomy 6:13, and declared, "You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve." To the woman at the well in Samaria, Jesus said, "Believe me the hour is coming when on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. ... But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him. God is a spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." (See John 4:19-24)

All of us yearn for the experience of "worship in the beauty of holiness." The psychiatrist, Von Frankl, held that the urge to worship is instinctive in children in much the same way as the urge to nurse. He suggested that the ages of four and five are the times when children are most desirous and accepting for the experiences of worship. Esthetics and quality appreciation are important to the development and life of the child. The elderly demonstrate much of the same needs in their lives.

"The beauty of holiness" is a most suggestive and satisfying phrase. It conveys the idea of "Holy Presence," and of being involved in spiritual goodness. My how human hearts long for that! In the midst of crassness, competitiveness, controversies, hostility, and uncertainty of conditions, we need that respite desperately.

Symbolism, the historic sign of faith, serves to renew our sense of oneness with what has been generative before us, and proclaims that we too can be involved in the experience of personal inclusion.

The building we refer to as the church or the chapel ought to be as adequate, as comfortable, and as attractive as we want our homes to be. Shouldn't God's house be the most attractive and architecturally satisfying of all? Nostalgia is important to many of us, and plays a tremendous role in our religious and personal life. It is the incentive that leads us to memorialize -- to provide new and beautiful things that relate to worship. Yet, we know that nostalgic sentiment can become a barrier to doing what is most important for the future. We can become so attached to what we have, and give our loyalty to what is familiar, that we may neglect to see what we ought to develop.

"The beauty of holiness" should inspire us for the transformation of life. It should also challenge us to greater things, with God's encouragement and guidance. Contemplating "the beauty of holiness" is not enough! We must also ask, "And what else ought we to do, God?" The answer we receive may not be the one we might prefer, but we had better not pray, "Thy will be done," unless we are willing to be a part of that will. God calls us to the faithful application of our Christian belief and commitment to discipleship, in which is included "the beauty of holiness." Therein lies the great truth of the words with which we began this worship time:

"O worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness;
Serve him with gladness all the earth." Amen.

The Benediction: Send us forth, O God, causing us to remember that the beauty of holiness needs to show in our lives, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

For several weeks, Mrs. Sherman's first-grade class had waited for the field trip to the observatory. Notices had been sent home with instructions about the bus, lunch, and times of departure and return. To the students, waiting for the field trip was like waiting for Christmas.

Finally, the day arrived. We grabbed our lunches and coats and lined up for the bus. In the back of the room, one boy began to cry because he had forgotten to bring a lunch and would have to stay behind with another teacher. In a few minutes, the other children had contributed extra sandwiches, fruit, desserts, and drinks until the boy had a feast for his lunch. With new tears, this time tears of gratitude, he grabbed his coat, lined up, and climbed onto the bus.

We had given him a "cup of cold water." Acts of service are not always dramatic or earth-shattering. Simple caring is all that is needed.  Discipleship means being alert for opportunities to care, to demonstrate God's loving-kindness, and to teach others to do the same.

Some of you may remember comedian Yakov Smirnoff. He said when he first came to the United States from Russia; he wasn't prepared for the incredible variety of instant products available in American grocery stores. He says, "On my first shopping trip, I saw powdered milk--you just add water, and you get milk. Then I saw powdered orange juice--you just add water, and you get orange juice. And then I saw baby powder, and I thought to myself, what a country!"

One of the most basic assumptions made about life change is that it happens instantly at salvation. According to this belief, when someone gives his or her life to Christ, there is an immediate, substantive, in-depth, miraculous change in habits, attitudes, and character. As a result disciples are born not made.

The question for rethinking discipleship is this: Are these assumptions valid? If they are, then working this formula in the life of the church should consistently give the same result: a new community of people who are becoming increasingly like Jesus in their life and thought. If that is not the answer a church gets when it works the equation, then it needs to rethink whether the formula is sound.

Unfortunately, many churches are not getting the correct answer. In fact, a Search Institute study has found that only 11 percent of churchgoing teenagers have a well-developed faith, rising to only 32 percent for churchgoing adults. Why? Because true life change only begins at salvation, takes more than just time, is about training not trying, and it is a team effort.

A few years ago there was a true story about a man in New York City who was kidnapped. His kidnappers called his wife and asked for $100,000 ransom. She talked them down to $30,000.

The story had a happy ending: the man returned home unharmed, the money was recovered, and the kidnappers were caught and sent to jail. But, don't you wonder what happened when the man got home and found that his wife got him back for a discount? Calvin Trillin was the writer of this story. He imagined out loud what the negotiations must have been like: "$100,000 for that old guy? You have got to be crazy. Just look at him! Look at that gut! You want $100,000 for that? You've got to be kidding. Give me a break here. $30,000 is my top offer."

Mark Trotter concluded his rendition of the story with this thoughtful comment: "I suppose there are some here this morning who can identify with the wife in that story, but for some reason I find myself identifying with the husband. I'd like to think if I were in a similar situation, there would be people who would spare no expense to get me back. They wouldn't haggle over the price. They wouldn't say, 'Well, let me think about it.' I like to think that they would say, 'We'll do anything for you.'"

The point of that story is this: sometimes it's O.K. to be extravagant! Now, that is precisely what this story in the Gospel of Mark is all about. Remember the story with me. Jesus is on His way to the cross. It is just a few days before Passover. The chief priests and scribes are plotting against Him. Judas is about ready to betray Him. The crucifixion is less than a week away and Jesus knows it. Jesus and His disciples stop at Bethany. just a few days before, Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead there in Bethany. Now, as they are having dinner, a woman comes to Jesus and does a beautiful but extravagant thing for our Lord. The Gospel of John tells us that the woman was Mary, (the sister of Martha and Lazarus). Mary brings an alabaster jar of very expensive ointment. She breaks open the jar and pours the costly perfumed oil on Jesus' head. She anoints His head with oil.

Why did she do that? Some say it was an act of gratitude in which she was thanking Jesus for raising her brother Lazarus from the dead. Some say it was an act of consecration in which she was baptizing Jesus to encourage Him to go into the HolyCity and do what had to be done. Others say it was a foreshadowing, an act of preparation, in which she was anointing His body for the death which was to come in Jerusalem a few days later. All say it was an act of love and kindness.

But Judas said it was a waste. If you lived strictly by the Judas mind-set, you would have no Spire on the church, no flowers on the altar, no art on the wall, no robes for the choir, no fine organ, no beautiful weddings. Your daughter would come to you and say, "I'm in love and I'm so happy. I want to get married." And you would say, "Well, why don't you just elope? It's much cheaper. It would be wasteful to have a wedding." But the Mary mind-set says, "Sometimes in the name of love and kindness and gratefulness; it's O.K. Indeed, it's beautiful to be extravagant." Let me show you what I mean.

1. First Of All, It's OK To Be Extravagant In Our Generosity.

2. Second, It's OK To Be Extravagant In Our Gratitude.

3. Third And Finally, It's OK To Be Extravagant In Our Graciousness.

Lori Beth Jones wrote a book called "Jesus CEO". In this book she wrote:

"Perhaps Jesus loved to dance because he was born at a party. I believe any event that has a heavenly light show, people bearing gifts from distant places and a host of angels singing and giving directions is a dance of major proportion. It must have made an impact on him. One of his favorite miracles was to turn water into wine, not vinegar. As his fame and popularity grew, he was constantly invited to dinners at Nicodemus's or Peter's or rich young people's houses. The night before he was arrested, he gathered his staff (Lori Beth Jones calls Jesus' disciples his staff) together to sing songs and to dine. When crowds came, Jesus was adamant that no one leave with an empty stomach. He always managed to locate food for them. He turned one boy's lunch into food for thousands. He told stories of a king who arranged a banquet and then got angry and disappointed when nobody came. He spoke of a father throwing a lavish party to celebrate a wayward son's return. When Jesus returned from the dead, he prepared a fish barbecue on the shore, sort of a team picnic. He came from avery happy place, and he knew he was returning to a very happy place. When he said, ‘Whenever two or more are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them,' perhaps he saw a dance coming on. Indeed, his invitations read ‘I go to prepare a place [setting] for you'. I think he is telling us to lighten up. ‘Why do you worry so?' he would ask. ‘Don't you see the flowers, how beautiful they are? Do you think God is going to let you wear less then these?'"

When speaking at a banquet one time, Billy Graham's style was noticeably different than before the crowds at the stadiums where he speaks. He certainly wasn't an overpowering presence or a good or even polished speaker. But one thing he said that night, memorable to many in attendance, was wondering that if rather than preaching to the masses as he had done, whether it would have been more effective to choose just 12 disciples as Jesus did, pour his heart into them, and encourage them to do the same. Maybe that would have made a bigger impact on the world. I don't know. Billy Graham has had quite the impact.

But the point he was making was that the most critical thing we can do in ministry is to pour our lives into people. Making disciples is the most important task of the church. But it's so easy to become distracted. Toilets overflow, roofs leak, computers crash, copiers breakdown, etc.

Clothing is a common New Testament metaphor for spiritual change. Paul wrote in Romans, "Clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the sinful nature" (Rom 13:14).

And in First Corinthians, "The perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. (1 Corinthians 15:53).

In Colossians, we read, "Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12).

Finally, in First Peter we are admonished, "All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, 'God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble'" (1 Peter 5:5).

Being clothed anew is a consistent New Testament expression for holiness and righteousness. The old clothes have to come off and new ones put on.

This text confronts us with the paradox of God's free invitation to the banquet with no strings attached and God's requirement of "putting on" something appropriate to that calling. The theological point is that we are warned of the dire consequences of accepting the invitation and doing nothing except showing up.

"Follow me, and I will make you fishers," said Jesus. Fishing takes practice, preparation, discipline. One must learn how to best throw the net, how to make the mouth of the net come open too. I can throw the actual cast net a long way, but I can't always make the net come open so that it will actually form a circle around the fish. One must learn how to cast the line on a rod. Again, some folks can cast a long way, but their accuracy is awful. There may be fish on the right, but they know only how to cast the line to the left. There may be fish on the left, but they keep casting to the right. Casting, like discipleship, is an acquired habit. It rewards practice.

Fishing is noticing the weather, watching the wind and the clouds. Fishing, like the gospel, dear friends, like the gospel, fishing is always practiced in context. It does no good to sit at one lake and wish I was on some other lake. It does no good to stand at the ocean and wish the weather were different. On that day, in that place, I fish in context according to what the conditions are.

So it is with the proclamation and the living out of the Christian gospel. It does little good wishing that we were somewhere else, in a different time or in a different country perhaps. Our context is this time and this place. Know where the wind blows. Watch the clouds.

Elie Wiesel tells the story of a prophet who came to a city and delivered his message every day in the marketplace. After a time his ranting became a fixture of the city's life and people regarded him with amusement when they regarded him at all. Finally, a small boy, pitying the old man, approached him and said, "Sir, why do you keep crying aloud like this every day, year after year? The people here will never listen to you."

"I gave up hope that they would listen to me a long time ago," said the prophet. "I go on crying lest I begin to listen to them."

In the journey to Jerusalem the disciples are given a genuine moment, a transparent happening that reveals will clarity that Christ above all men has pleased God and above all others speaks for God. It is this glimpse that will sustain their discipleship into the future. They will continue to cry out in a world not eager to listen.