I can't think of a greater condemnation to be levied against a people than this: They loved darkness instead of light. I would never want that to be said of me. But that is the way God sees the world. You and I see the world as it is right now. Most of the people around us try and do the right thing and when we are wrong hopefully we apologize. So we tend to think well of most people. But look out on the passage of time….

The Ancient World of Mesopotamia, Egypt, Hellenism, Rome, Persia, India, and East Asia was filled with the ignorance of hundreds of thousands of gods, magic, rituals, superstitions, human sacrifice, conquests, sewage(refuse was mostly thrown into the streets for the rats and dogs), disease (priests attempted to foretell the course of a disease by examining the livers of sacrificed animals). And the list doesn't end there: ethnic bigotry, civil wars, persecutions, despots, tyrants, class rule, and the systematic murders of tens of thousands.

The Middle Ages of Persia, Constantinople, Islam, Britain, China, India, Genghis Khan and the Mongols, Timur and the Turks, Europe, African Empires and the Americas. All of them covered in the darkness of man's inhumanity to man: Revolutions, expansionism, Mohammad's Conquest and Christianity's Crusades, warlords, heretics, witchcraft, increased trade bringing death and plagues to millions, and the crowding in the cities spreading the misery all the more. And on top of this misery wars fought for every ridiculous reason known to man.

The Enlightenment and the Modern world also have faired no better. We too have loved the darkness instead of the light. Europe, Africa, Mid-East, India, and the Americas have all dipped their finger into the cesspool of sin: Guns, germs, slavery, the need for women's suffrage, massacres, socialism, resistance to democracy, religious fundamentalism's resistance to progress, Fascism, Communism, The Holocaust, the Ku Klux Klan, greed, the market crash, The Depression, world wars, The Bomb, and lest we forget 9/11.

I can't tell you what a short list this is. And this says nothing of the millions of women and children who have suffered throughout the ages at the hands of ruthless men. There is no way to write that history because it is hidden from the pages of history.

Yes! Men have loved darkness rather than light. There is a morbid destructive tendency in all of us. We dabble in the diabolical. We revel in revenge. And we hate in our hearts. My, how we love to live in the shadows! What must God think of us?

Here is his verdict, as true today as it was when it was pronounced 2000 years ago: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light, because their deeds were evil. This is Jesus' description of mankind.  And can any of us argue with him?

For a few moments let's look at the world through the eyes of God. What does he see? He sees that....

1. There are those whose deeds are evil.
2. There are those who live by the truth.
3. There are those who acknowledge their need for forgiveness.

Athanasian Creed: Athanasius, known as Athanasius of Alexandria, was the 20th bishop of Alexandria. His intermittent episcopacy spanned 45 years, of which over 17 encompassed five exiles. He is traditionally thought to be the author of the this Creed named after him. It was created to guard Nicene Christianity from the heresy of Arianism. It is widely accepted as orthodox and some abbreviated versions of it are still in use today. And yes, the intro and outro are actually part of the original text. 

Whoever desires to be saved should above all hold to the catholic faith.

Anyone who does not keep it whole and unbroken will doubtless perish eternally.

Now this is the catholic faith:

    That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity,
    neither blending their persons
    nor dividing their essence.
        For the person of the Father is a distinct person,
        the person of the Son is another,
        and that of the Holy Spirit still another.
        But the divinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is one,
        their glory equal, their majesty coeternal.

    What quality the Father has, the Son has, and the Holy Spirit has.
        The Father is uncreated,
        the Son is uncreated,
        the Holy Spirit is uncreated.

        The Father is immeasurable,
        the Son is immeasurable,
        the Holy Spirit is immeasurable.

        The Father is eternal,
        the Son is eternal,
        the Holy Spirit is eternal.

            And yet there are not three eternal beings;
            there is but one eternal being.
            So too there are not three uncreated or immeasurable beings;
            there is but one uncreated and immeasurable being.

    Similarly, the Father is almighty,
        the Son is almighty,
        the Holy Spirit is almighty.
            Yet there are not three almighty beings;
            there is but one almighty being.

        Thus the Father is God,
        the Son is God,
        the Holy Spirit is God.
            Yet there are not three gods;
            there is but one God.

        Thus the Father is Lord,
        the Son is Lord,
        the Holy Spirit is Lord.
            Yet there are not three lords;
            there is but one Lord.

    Just as Christian truth compels us
    to confess each person individually
    as both God and Lord,
    so catholic religion forbids us
    to say that there are three gods or lords.

    The Father was neither made nor created nor begotten from anyone.
    The Son was neither made nor created;
    he was begotten from the Father alone.
    The Holy Spirit was neither made nor created nor begotten;
    he proceeds from the Father and the Son.

    Accordingly there is one Father, not three fathers;
    there is one Son, not three sons;
    there is one Holy Spirit, not three holy spirits.

    Nothing in this trinity is before or after,
    nothing is greater or smaller;
    in their entirety the three persons
    are coeternal and coequal with each other.

    So in everything, as was said earlier,
    we must worship their trinity in their unity
    and their unity in their trinity.

Anyone then who desires to be saved
should think thus about the trinity.

But it is necessary for eternal salvation
that one also believe in the incarnation
of our Lord Jesus Christ faithfully.

Now this is the true faith:

    That we believe and confess
    that our Lord Jesus Christ, God's Son,
    is both God and human, equally.

     He is God from the essence of the Father,
    begotten before time;
    and he is human from the essence of his mother,
    born in time;
    completely God, completely human,
    with a rational soul and human flesh;
    equal to the Father as regards divinity,
    less than the Father as regards humanity.

    Although he is God and human,
    yet Christ is not two, but one.
    He is one, however,
    not by his divinity being turned into flesh,
    but by God's taking humanity to himself.
    He is one,
    certainly not by the blending of his essence,
    but by the unity of his person.
    For just as one human is both rational soul and flesh,
    so too the one Christ is both God and human.

    He suffered for our salvation;
    he descended to hell;
    he arose from the dead;
    he ascended to heaven;
    he is seated at the Father's right hand;
    from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
    At his coming all people will arise bodily
    and give an accounting of their own deeds.
    Those who have done good will enter eternal life,
    and those who have done evil will enter eternal fire.

This is the catholic faith:
one cannot be saved without believing it firmly and faithfully.

This ecumenical creed (428 A.D.) is probably unknown to most Christians because it is seldom, if ever, used in worship services. It is probably not used because of its length. The Nicene Creed has eighteen printed lines, whereas the Athanasian has 69. It is difficult for congregations to use because of the creed's intricate and complex terms.

Though the creed carries the name of Athanasius, he did not write it. It was the product of the church of his time. The creed was named after him to honor him for his brave and forceful defense of the Trinity. Athanasius (289-373) was a bishop in Alexandria, Egypt.

The creed deals primarily with the Trinity and Jesus as the Son of God. At this time, the heresy of Arius was prominent. He taught that Jesus was not fully human or divine and that the Holy Spirit was not God but only a divine influence. The Athanasian Creed denounced these false teachings and upheld the doctrine of the Trinity. Luther's high regard for this creed was expressed: "I doubt, since the days of the Apostles, anything more important and more glorious has ever been written in the church of the New Testament."

This statement (Matt 12:32, par Mk. 3:29, Luke 12:10) has been the subject of much questioning. Obviously the reference here is not to the naming of the Holy Spirit in a blasphemous utterance, for in Matt. 12:32 even blasphemy against the Son of man can be forgiven. Among the many attempts at exegesis, the most convincing is the suggestion that the man who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit is he who has recognized that God is working through the Holy Spirit in the actions of Jesus, and who quite consciously "misrepresent faith in God as faith in the devil.  This saying is an extremely serious warning against the demonic and scarcely conceivable potential in man: To declare war on God.  This is not done in weakness and doubt, but by one who has been overcome by the Holy Spirit and who knows very well on whom he is declaring war" (E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark, 1971, 87; cf. H.W. Beyer, TDNT I:624; O.E. Evans, "The Unforgivable Sin", ExpT 68, 1956-57, 240-44). This is the blasphemer who does it deliberately, after encounter with the God of grace, as the context shows. For Jesus has just been accused of casting out demons by Beelzebul, the prince of demons. "Therefore he who blasphemes the Spirit is no longer speaking against a God who is distant, about whom he entertains mere foolish thoughts, but against the one who makes evident to him his gracious work, and confirms it with his manifest, divine seal. He is a man who ought to give thanks, not to blaspheme" (A. Schlatter, on Matt. 12:32).

W.L. Lane draws attention to Sifre on Deut. 32:38 (end): "The Holy One, blessed be he, pardons everything else, but on profanation of the Name [i.e. blasphemy] he takes vengeance immediately" (The Gospel of Mark, NLC, 1974, 145) Lane goes on to comment: "This is the danger to which the scribes exposed themselves when they attributed to the agency of Satan the redemption brought by Jesus. The expulsion of demons was a sign of the intrusion of the Kingdom of God. Yet the scribal accusations against Jesus amount to a denial of the power and greatness of the Spirit of God. By assigning the action of Jesus to a demonic origin the scribes betray a perversion of spirit which, in defiance of the truth, chooses to call light darkness. In this historical context, blasphemy against the Holy Spirit denotes the conscious and deliberate rejection of the saving power and grace of God released through Jesus' work and act" (ibid). Thus blasphemy here is much more serious than the taking of the divine name in vain which a believer may have done before coming to repentance and faith.

It may be said to those who have been tormented by fear that they have committed the unforgivable sin that their concern is itself a sign that they have not committed the sin envisaged in Jesus' teaching here. Lane's interpretation also helps to explain the distinction drawn between blasphemy against the Son of man and blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. The distinction suggests that "while an attack on Jesus' own person, as son of Man and therefore 'hidden', is pardonable, any speaking against the power by which he works (i.e. the divine endowment for his messianic ministry) will not be pardoned" (D. Hill, The Gospel of Matthew, New Century Bible, 1972, 318). For such an action would be deliberately to attribute to Satan the action of God himself. (NIDNTT, v. 3, pp. 343-344)

What is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit? Though many suggestions have been offered, I think the answer lies in the context here (Luke 12:7-12) and in the context of redemptive history. Remember that the Holy Spirit had not yet been poured out, and it is the Spirit who causes men to recognize who Jesus is. Hebrews 6 and 10 contain discussions of unforgivable sins, but the distinction between blasphemy against Christ and the Spirit has disappeared. Jesus seemed to be saying this: Because the Holy spirit has not yet been poured out in fullness, the Jews will be forgiven for blaspheming the Son of Man. They will be given a second chance to repent, as we see in the book of Acts. If, however, they continue to blaspheme after the Spirit has come, they will not be forgiven. But what is the sin, specifically? Since it is blasphemy, we must see it essentially as a verbal sin. In context it is the sin of saying that Jesus Christ is of the devil. Jesus was willing to excuse this blasphemy before Pentecost; but, in the new covenant era it is not longer excusable. If a person curses Jesus, but does not really know who Jesus is, that sin is forgivable. But if the Holy Spirit has borne witness to a person that Jesus is indeed the Son of God, and that person curses Him, it cannot be forgiven.

Have you ever sat in a lighted room at night, reading or talking, and suddenly the lights go out? What's the first thing you say? Usually everyone says, "Who turned out the light?"

In this age of electricity, light is something we take for granted. Few of us ever experience total darkness. In the city, we have street lights which come on automatically as soon as it begins to get dark. In the country, most farms have a mercury vapor light that stays on all night for security reasons. Consequently, most of us never get a good look at the stars as we used to when all the lights went out at night.

If you ever get the chance to go out in the desert at night do it. The darkness on nights with no moon or star light is so total someone could be standing right next to you and you wouldn't know it.

This text from John's gospel is about darkness and light: "And this is the judgment," John says, "that the light has come into the world and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil."

I read about a depressed songwriter who battled the successes of the past and a fear of the future. He was bankrupt. He had a cerebral hemorrhage that left him partially paralyzed. He worried that the creative spark that had made him rich was gone. He was depressed. The scriptural texts that were his friends and that his soul could hear were texts such as "Why have you forsaken me?"

In the midst of his depression, a man came by who had compiled scriptures together in a semi-orderly fashion. He suggested that the songwriter put some music to the text. The writer looked at the text that read, "He was despised and rejected of humanity," and he felt that way, too. He read texts of the one for whom "no one had pity." He read about the one who trusted God still. He read the words, "I know that my redeemer liveth." He read the words "rejoice" and "hallelujah." That night George Frederic Handel, now regarded as one of the greatest composers of his era, was blessed by a "gentle cosmic light." He was led slowly out of darkness by a desire to write music at a feverish pitch. He worked tirelessly for days until, with manuscript complete, he dropped into a seventeen-hour, death-like sleep. A doctor was summoned to see if he was alive. Out of depression came the light of the Messiah. Out of that depression was left for us a light that would light the corridors of the lives of countless millions for all ages. Out of that darkness, a man in a deep depression began, as Stevenson said of the lamplighter, "punching holes in the darkness."

God punched holes in the darkness through Jesus. Jesus at the end of his life left us words that we can use as we anticipate the coming of the Christ. "Take heed. Listen. Be awake." "Your extremity is God's opportunity."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit fell upon the waiting disciples, there were a number of extraordinary events occurring: there was the sound of a rushing wind, cloven tongues of fire appeared, and they all began to speak in other languages and the Holy Spirit gave them ability. The Jews who were visiting Jerusalem, from all nations, hearing them speak in their own tongues, were amazed at this startling phenomenon. They came to the hasty, false conclusion that the disciples must be drunk, and accused them, saying, "They have had too much wine!" "Not so!" said Peter. "It is only nine in the morning -- far too early to be fixed. They are not drunk, but rather filled with the new wine of the Spirit. This is what Joel the prophet foretold many years ago."

In other words, the Holy Spirit is New Wine and it cannot make you drunk. The Spirit will not cloud your mind, it won't cause you to talk stupidly, it won't make you an unsafe driver, and it won't give you a hangover. The disciples were not inebriated, but rather filled with God the Holy Spirit. They had not imbibed on the fruit of the vine, nor had they drunk the nectar of the gods, but they had been filled with the Divine Nectar, the New Wine from heaven. This Spirit will be a wine for all occasions, for all people.

Before his Ascension, Jesus had wanted his followers to know that the same Lord who had called them and ministered to them in his physical presence would now, through the Holy Spirit, always be with them. They must realize that the crucified, resurrected, and now ascended Lord would return. The same Spirit which dwelt in him would now dwell in them.

On this anniversary of the Day of Pentecost, when the Christian Church was born, let us be deeply grateful that the Spirit of Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit, has come to us. Without the Holy Spirit, Christian discipleship would be impossible. We would have no understanding of spiritual things without the Spirit of Truth. We would never enjoy Christian fellowship with one another without the unity of the Spirit. We could never be effective Christian witnesses without the Spirit's power. In fact, we would have no life without the life-giving Spirit. Just as the body without breath is a corpse, so a church without the Holy Spirit is dead!

The rest of the sermon follows this outline:

1. They Waited And Prayed
2. The Specifics Of The Spirit's Coming
3. This New Wine Makes A Difference

For most of us, becoming adults hasn't necessarily cured us of our fear of the dark. Oh, we may have switched to waterbeds that nothing could possibly get underneath. And our closets may be a little bigger (although still not big enough) and they're filled with business suits or work clothes instead of building blocks and athletic gear. But at night, when the lights are out and the children are safely tucked into bed to wrestle with THEIR fears, our own monsters come to life and torment us yet again.

Am I a caring husband? Am I a loving wife? Do I really try to understand my spouse's point of view? Are we raising our children the right way? What about my parents? Am I doing all I can to make their later years as pleasant as they made my early years? Can I be sure my children aren't experimenting with drugs? When will I ever be able to slow down? Why doesn't someone invent a magic pill that will make all these excess pounds I'm carrying around disappear overnight, never to return again? Why do I never seem to be satisfied any more? Where is God in the middle of all this chaos in my life?

Yes, in the light of day we function pretty well through this messy maze of life - paying bills, getting family schedules coordinated, even managing once in a while to eat those high-fiber, low-fat meals our doctors tell us we're supposed to eat. And the fear of our unknowns, the scary stuff, is kept safely at arm's length, barricaded securely behind our busy work schedules and microwave dinners.

But when our world slows down a little, when darkness falls, the fears creep in. No they don't - they RUSH into our lives, our hearts, our minds, our very souls, and the torture begins once again. Does it always have to be that way?

Quoting the prophet Isaiah, Jesus said, "The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light, and to those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned." And there's something inside us that wants to believe that if anything in this life is true, THIS is! Something inside us wants to believe that this is the only hope worth hanging on to, that here is a way out of the fearful mess we've made of our lives. Somewhere, sometime, we believe that WE have seen that light. We remember seeing it, once upon a time, a long time ago. If only we could find it again - or if IT could find US - then maybe the darkness wouldn't be quite so threatening and ominous.

One of the most important symbolic events of the 20th century was the dismantling of the wall that separated East and West Berlin. The division of post-war Germany and the erection of the Berlin Wall was a constant reminder of the division between East and West. It also had been a symbol of repression and brutality. Visitors to the Berlin Wall over its last two decades noted that one of the most striking features of this division was the dim lighting on the East side. Whether this was due to a lack of streetlights, billboards, advertising displays, fewer automobiles or whatever, visitors took this striking contrast as significant - for West Berlin is one of the most brilliantly lighted cities in the world. On one side darkness; on the other, light.

The entire world is like that. Wouldn't you like to take the light of Christmas and light up the world? That is the dream of every man, woman, young person who bears the name of Jesus. The light has shined into the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

"One night at the end of a special Saturday night worship service," writes Warren Hudson of Ontario, Canada," a thunderstorm unleashed a bolt of lightning that plunged the church into darkness." With the congregation seated in total darkness, the pastor felt his way to the kitchen to find some candles. The pastor handed out the candles to everyone present. Persons lit their candles in much the same way as many churches do on Christmas Eve, each person lighting the candle of the person next to them. The worshipers then made their way through the church's winding hallways to the front door.

"Peering out, we could see the rain coming down in sheets," Warren remembers. With traffic snarled, people were running for the nearest shelter. Looking around they realized that the entire city was in darkness. "There in the darkness we stood," Warren writes, "a little band of Christians, each clutching a light, not sure whether to venture out into the storm or stay inside the church in hopes that the storm would soon blow over."

There in the darkness the light of truth struck him. In this most dramatic way he realized what it means to be the "light of the world." He writes, "It occurred to me then that this is the temptation I face every day. It is easy to play it safe and be a good Christian in church. It is a lot harder to venture out in faith into the storms of the world."

I have a Christmas dilemma. When I was a kid there was no Christmas dilemma. You filled out your wish list and you waited for Santa to fulfill it on the 25th. That was pretty awesome. The rest of the year didn't work like that so it made Christmas a strange and wonderful time. But you know what happens? Slowly the tables get turned on you until one day you're being handed the wish list. Such is life!

This is when the dilemma enters in too. Not for everyone. There are still some sad sacks out there who are 40 years old still filling out their wish list like their 4. But for those who are keenly aware and can read between the lines, you will take note that when the Angel meets the shepherds out abiding their fields he says, "Peace good will toward men." That's well and good and fits my four year old concept of Christmas. But the second part of the verse never gets quoted. Our culture curiously ignores its presence. Here is the whole verse: "Peace, good will toward with men, with whom he is pleased."

What does that mean? It makes me want to run and hide more that it makes me want to sing Jingle Bells. Look at our text in Matthew 1:21. The same strange thing occurs. The angel tells Joseph, "Don't be afraid to take Mary as you wife because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus" Sounds like the Christmas we all know. But then there's the matter of another unfinished verse which ends, "You are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins."

That's the dilemma. That baby is the greatest gift ever given. But it's as if someone handed you a beautifully wrapped gift and said, John, I am giving you this because I love you. And when you open it it's a copy of Alcoholics Anonymous, or When Bad Things Happen To Good People, or a new copy of Miss Manners. You can't miss the message that someone is trying to tell you something. Christmas tells me that God has launched a great rescue mission. That is the message that is presented in the Advent story over and over again. In fact, the name Jesus (which is, of course Greek because the New Testament was written in Greek) is the Hebrew equivalent of Joshua, which translated means: The Lord will save.

The Advent message says to us that in the midst of our depressions, our fears, the mundane of living, a rescuer is coming because we need rescuing. The church teaches that sin is like quicksand. You know what happens when you get stuck in quicksand and try to get yourself out. You only end up getting in deeper and deeper. The Unitarian church affirms that man is capable. If he is just shown the right way and is properly motivated he will do what is right. The Christian church says just the opposite. It says that man is not capable of extricating himself from the messes that he gets into. He is in need of a rescuer, and that is precisely what God has given us in the person of Jesus. Someone to save us. And the price of the rescue mission is a costly one. Blood is shed. Christ who was born in Bethlehem was also born to die. That is why one of the gifts that the wise men bring the Christ child is the gift of Myrrh. It was an embalming agent. It is to remind us always that the child was sent to die.

But the great tragedy is that after this costly rescue mission has been launched, so often our response to it is thanks but no thanks. We don't want to be rescued. We did not ask for a rescuer and we do not want one. That is the dilemma that we find ourselves in. God has sent us a Savior, and there are a whole lot of people who don't want to be saved.

Well, you say, how ridiculous. Everyone wants to be saved. On an intellectual basis, perhaps, but on an emotional basis where decisions are really made (and I am convinced that most of our decisions in life are emotional ones and not intellectual ones --I think studies prove this) I am not so sure that we do want salvation. Indeed, I think that we even resist salvation. Oh, it is true that we sing songs in church like Rescue The Perishing but the problem is that we usually don't have us in mind when we sing it. We have someone else in mind. Who of us wants to be counted among the fallen, the erring, the perishing. Who of us wants to change or be changed? We rebel at the thought of being snatched in pity from sin. That is the truth of the matter. This morning I would like for us to look at several reasons why we reject this great rescue mission that God had given to us. We reject it because...

1. We have a misconception of what salvation really means.
2. We believe we can save ourselves through their own cleverness.
3. We are uncomfortable with the Biblical image of power - power through vulnerability.

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.

Celtic Christians chose, not the dove, but the wild goose as a symbol representing the Holy Spirit. It sounds strange to us, but it has a long tradition in Ireland.

While the Roman Church imagined the Holy Spirit in the form of a peaceful, graceful dove, the Ancient Celts understood the Holy Spirit to be like a wild goose. When you hear of the Spirit descending like a heavenly dove on you, you hear harps and strings softly playing and get a peaceful feeling. The image of the Holy Spirit as dove has become so familiar and domesticated an image we pay little attention.

The image of a wild goose descending upon you is a different matter altogether. A wild goose is one noisy, bothersome bird. I like this image of the Holy Spirit as a wild goose because it jars us out of our complacency. We need such an image to correct our overly safe and overly sweet image of the Spirit. One preacher friend asked, "How many times can you sing 'There's a Sweet, Sweet Spirit in This Place' without your blood sugar reaching diabetic levels?"

When the Spirit comes in the Bible, it never seems to be sweet or safe. God's Spirit called the prophets to speak to Israel in words that were bold and sometimes dangerous. Ezekiel saw a vision of God's Spirit blowing through a valley of dry bones and bringing them to life. John the Baptist dressed in camel's hair and eating wild locusts proclaimed, "I baptize you with water but he who comes after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." Paul gave this advice to young Timothy, "For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline" (2 Timothy 1:6-7).

Neither safe nor tame, the Spirit inspired Paul to proclaim, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28).

It was this wild Goose that Jesus referred to when he preached his first sermon and quoted Isaiah, saying, "For the Spirit of the Lord is upon me for he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of God's favor" (Luke 4:18).

There's a trend on social media to cancel peoples livelihood for even the slightest offenses that the person attacking them doesn't like. It's been billed the "cancel culture." It's an evil behavior often by anonymous sources. But it's not new. More prevalent but not new. And it certainly has been in the church for a long time. Let's use the acrostic CCC: Christian Cancel Culture.  

A religious weight loss program called Weigh Down created in 1992 by a woman named Gwen Shamblin grew from a small business conducted out of a home garage to a multimillion-dollar Nashville corporation with over 30,000 churches and organizations participating. But last year the whole movement was threatened and her business placed in jeopardy when Shamblin, on August 10th made comments regarding her beliefs in the Trinity. Here is what she said, "As a ministry, we believe in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. However, the Bible does not use the word "trinity," and our feeling is that the word "trinity" implies equality in leadership, or shared Lordship. It is clear that the scriptures teach that Jesus is the Son of God and that God sends the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit does not send God anywhere. God is clearly the Head."

Her comments sent shockwaves through her community of followers and business partners. She was removed from the Women of Faith Web site, influential evangelical churches dropped her program, even some key employees left. Thomas Nelson, her publisher, quickly canceled the publication of her book that was then scheduled for release in one month. All of this because she trifled with the Trinity.

If you are confused as to why her words got her into so much trouble, that is quite understandable. The church has struggled to explain how God can be both One God and three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Where Mrs. Shamblin went wrong was in her statement that God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit were not equal in leadership. In an interview, she agreed that Jesus was both Lord and God but she maintained that Jesus held only a secondary and unequal relationship to the Father.

If you are still confused, let me ask you this: What is the conclusion of such a statement? It is this: Jesus is not fully God. This cuts at the heart of the church's historic teaching that Jesus Christ, in his very nature, was both fully God and fully man. It's a mystery which we accept through faith. Yet Shamblin tries to argue her point by saying that Christians grieve Jesus if they adhere to doctrines not found in Scripture. She says, "If God wanted us to refer to Himself, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit as the 'trinity,' He would not have left this word completely out of the Bible."

We must tread carefully when these kinds of claims are made. Just because a word is not in the bible doesn't mean that it is unbiblical. There are a lot of words that we use in the church that are not found in the Bible. In fact, the word Bible is not in the Bible.

Now we find ourselves this morning, on Trinity Sunday, struggling with this ancient doctrine. What are the essentials of our faith and why is the Trinity one of them? And how can we safeguard our pursuit of truth?

Sometime in the 5th century, when the Church decided to settle on a day to celebrate Christ’s birth, it’s interesting to see the date they chose. They chose the time of the year when the nights, at least in the Northern hemisphere are at their very longest & coldest. When the world is dark, and when everything in it is nearly frozen & dead. It's then that the words we hear from Isaiah the prophet make their most sense: The people who walked in darkness will see a great light; those who dwell in a land of deep darkness, on them a light will shine.

Are Christians an endangered species? This is really not the most pleasant question to consider. But at some time or another I would imagine we have all thought about it.

Faced with an uncomfortable question, we find comfort and assurance in God’s Word. Speaking of Jesus, in John 1:5 (GNB) it says, "His life is the light that shines through the darkness - and the darkness can never extinguish it." Never, it says. The power of God’s light can never be extinguished. The good news about Jesus will always be good news. Sin will have its triumphs, but it never will completely prevail.

Most of the danger to Christianity does not come from the outside but from within. I would like to consider with you three of the dangers from within referring to them as Christianity’s sin from within.

There is the endangering problem of self-centeredness or the S of sin from within. Often we get so caught up with our own church or our own denomination that our world view of Christianity doesn’t go much beyond our congregation’s front door. In our quest to preserve our peculiar understanding of Scripture, we often fail to bask in the good news of a Christ who stands at the center of Scripture. The New Testament abounds with encouragement for us to be one with each other - to rejoice in that which unites us in the Body of Christ rather than to dwell upon our theological idiosyncrasies. It is incompatible with Christianity for us to separate ourselves from other Christians in order to do just our own thing. We are going to spend our eternity with all these people. The time to get acquainted and work together is now.

Another aspect of the problem is inhibited love. Inhibited love is the I of the sin from within. There is no virtue in loving someone who is lovable. Anyone can do that - even non-believers. There is no virtue in loving someone with whom we agree, that is almost like loving ourself. Jesus said, "If you love only those who love you, what good is that? Even scoundrels do that much." But there is virtue in uninhibited, unconditional love. We are called by Jesus to embrace with forgiving love a brother or sister who has disappointed or even offended us. Forgiveness flows in a church when the Spirit of God resides in its members. Love that flows freely is the love that Jesus spoke about when he said, "Love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you. In that way you will be acting as true sons of your Father in heaven."

The final sin from within, represented by the N in sin, is nonchalance. Too many of us take our Christianity too casually - with nonchalance. Saint Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, encourages us to put on God’s armour so that we will be able to stand safe against all the strategies and tricks of Satan. We are encouraged to use every piece of God’s armor available to us.

Self-centeredness, inhibited love, and nonchalance - three sins from within that endanger Christianity. And so we return to our question, "Are Christians an endangered species?" Some are and some are not. Although we have the promise of God that the light will never go completely out, our task together with the total church is to make sure we shine brightly. We continue to do battle with the forces of evil from both without and from within. To plan to do less is to risk joining the list of endangered species.

In the season of Epiphany we look at those special events in Jesus' life where his presence was especially manifested with power. Jesus' baptism is one of those epiphanies. You heard Luke's version read this morning. The Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form as a dove, and a voice came from heaven,"Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased."  In newer translations, which are thought to be more accurate, the adjective "beloved" is made a separate phrase to emphasize the intensity of the personal nature of this experience. "You are my Son. My beloved. In thee I am well pleased."

That is Luke's version. All four gospels portray this scene. But Luke's version is a little different than the others. In each version, though, the Spirit descends"like a dove."   The Holy Spirit is not a bird. Luke and the other apostles use the dove as a metaphor for the Spirit's coming into our lives. It is a beautiful metaphor. Have you ever seen a dove descend and land? It is graceful, gentle, and quiet. That's the point being made. That is the way the Holy Spirit will enter into our lives. The Holy Spirit came to Jesus gently, quietly, and in Luke's version, privately.

That is why Luke is different than the other three gospels. The other writers imply that the Spirit descended upon Jesus at his baptism, apparently when he was still in the water. That is the way this scene is often portrayed in religious art, especially those beautiful paintings out of the Middle Ages. Jesus, standing waist deep in water. John the Baptist standing next to him, pointing at Jesus, as if to say, "This is the one!" or, in the words of the Gospel of John, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!" Above Jesus' head in these scenes is the Spirit, as a dove, descending. It is like the symbol that is in the baptismal font here, a nimbus around the Holy Spirit as he hovers above Jesus' head.

That's the way all the other gospels picture it. But Luke is different. He says,"Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the Holy Spirit descended upon him." Which means that the Epiphany, this special presence of God in this event, came to Jesus when he was by himself, praying. In other words, it wasn't a public event. It was a personal and private experience. No one else saw it. No one else heard that voice from heaven. He came out of the water, went off by himself, and prayed. That is when it happened.

Luke, more than any other gospel, emphasizes that Jesus prayed…

There are two aspects in the manifestation of tongues: first, the sign of tongues in Acts 2, 10, 19 (and probably in Ch 8); second, the gift of tongues in the early apostolic church. The gift under the second aspect evidently was not permanent (1 Cor 13:9-13), nor given to every believer. It required the concomitant gift of interpretation (1 Cor 12:10; 14:1-40). This sign gift with interpretation was meant to instruct the church before the completed NT Scriptures were given. Under the first aspect tongues were a means by which the Holy Spirit witnessed to Israel on the day of Pentecost (2:4-13).  They were a sign of the truth that Jesus was the Messiah and an indication of the new age of the Spirit. The Jews were again challenged by the Samaritans' receiving the Holy Spirit (Acts 8:14-17), and, although this is not specifically mentioned, they may have been given the evidence that the despised Samaritans had actually received the same gift as the Jews, by the sign of their supernatural utterances (cf. 11:17).

This is the use of tongues in the introduction of the gift of the Holy Spirit to Gentiles (Acts 10:44-47). Nothing could have been more convincing to skeptical, unbelieving Peter and his Jewish colleagues than the fact that Cornelius and the other Gentiles spoke in supernatural languages just as the Jews at Pentecost.

The disciples of John the Baptist who received the Holy Spirit and spoke in languages they had never learned (Acts 19:6-10) were a similar witness to the strong Jewish community at Ephesus. For the disciples of John the Baptist, whom the Jews generally accepted as a God-sent prophet, to be blessed by the Holy Spirit after being baptized in the name of the rejected Messiah, was of the deepest significance. 'But some of them [the Jews] became obstinate; they refused to believe' as Isaiah (Isa 28:11-12) had predicted (1 Cor 14:22).

The moon shines in the night sky because of reflected light from the sun. Without that reflected light, the moon would become lost in the darkness of space.

The believer in Christ shines only because of the reflection of Christ’s light. Without that reflected light, the believer becomes lost in the darkness of the world and sin.

Some of us can learn mercy by reading about it in the Bible. Many more of us, however, learn mercy by taking the plunge and doing it.

Such was the case with Sister Helen Prejean. Her story is told in the book Dead Man Walking, which recently came out in film. Sister Helen hears one day of a correspondence program with prisoners on death row. She decides to participate and begins writing, even though she's been told not to expect to hear anything in return. Much to her surprise, though, one of the prisoners does respond and catches her completely off guard by asking her to be his spiritual guide. Apparently his execution date was fast approaching, and he wanted some representative of God to be there for support over the next several weeks.

Sister Helen hesitates. It is one thing to do charity long distance. It is quite another thing to do mercy face to face with a convicted murderer. Gary had been sentenced to death by lethal injection for participating in the brutal rape of a young woman and the subsequent murder of both her and her finance. Sister Helen recoils at the very thought of meeting this rapist and murderer, let alone ministering to him. But a voice deep inside of her tells her she must go. So she does. The first several meetings are difficult. Gary comes across a whole lot more cocky and arrogant in person than he did in his letters. He refuses to admit his guilt and insists that he is the innocent victim of a corrupt legal system.

To make matters worse, Sister Helen is despised and publicly villified by the victims' parents for even spending time with Gary. How could she, a deeply religious nun, befriend this cold-blooded murderer! They are horrified and let her know that every time they see her. And yet, despite these difficult barriers, Sister Helen risks her name, her reputation, her own safety, to reach across them and embrace Gary with the love of God. And the more she perseveres in loving him, the more his defenses begin to crumble. Finally on the night before his execution, Gary confesses to his crime and asks for God's forgiveness. In a flood of tears, he thanks Sister Helen for all her love and support. He then tries to send her home, insisting that her work with him is done and that he is now ready to meet his Maker.

"No, that's okay," she responds. "I'll stay through the execution."

"But why?" Gary wants to know. "I'm only getting what I deserve."

"Because," she replies, "the last face I want you to see before you die is not one of hatred and vengeance, but one of love and mercy."

The next morning, Gary is strapped into place while Sister Helen and the victims' parents watch through the window of an adjacent room. Within a matter of minutes, the last lethal dose is injected and Gary is pronounced dead. Most of the by-standers breathe a sigh of relief. Some even begin to applaud. But Sister Helen alone stands there - with arms reaching out to Gary and a look of pure mercy on her face.

Some of us learn mercy by reading about it in our Bibles. But most of us, like Sister Helen Prejean, learn mercy by just doing it to those who least deserve it - to those who are unclean, who are despised and rejected by society. Learning Mercy . . .

There was a priest in a Midwestern city who wanted to help inner-city children. He wanted them to see something more than their own situations. He put them on a bus and took them to see some things of great beauty. They went to the art museum and saw paintings by the masters. They went to a symphony matinee and heard beautiful music. They went for a walk through a row of homes that were done over by a creative team of architects. That young priest showed those children the best and brightest things he knew. Then they climbed back on the bus and went home. That night one of those young boys set his apartment house on fire. They rescued the neighbors and family, but the place burned down. The priest was in tears when he visited the boy in a detention cell. "Why did you do it?" he asked.

"I saw all those beautiful things," said the boy, "and then I came home and saw how ugly my world was, and I hated the ugliness, so I wanted to burn it down." Shine some light in a dark place and there's no telling what will happen. When all you have ever seen is darkness, that is all you know. And when light comes, it makes for a contrast. Darkness remains a choice. In fact, it is possible for light to come into the world, and for somebody to say, "Turn out the lights!" It is possible for the Light of the world to shine on people, and those very people may not accept it.

As you got out of bed this morning, did you feel like you belonged to a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God? And tomorrow morning, as the daily grind begins again, will you be thinking as you brush the old ivories, "What ways am I going to declare God’s wonderful deeds today?" Will any of us plot how we might upset the devil, the prince of terrorists? How many of us will let the light of Christ shine through us and be among the darkness dispellers? Will any of us seek to be the light of Christ in a darkening world?

Reading the Bible, it becomes evident that Christianity is not a solo proposition. Christianity comes to us through Christian community. Without a relation to the community or church, our individual Christianity is weakened and incomplete. The church is Christ’s body on earth today. The light of Christ shines in the world through each of us as we take seriously that we are a chosen people belonging to God.

There is no disembodied Christianity. The Lord calls us to relate to him in the community of the church with all of its warts and imperfections. Christianity is a social faith, a community of fellow believers. Jesus continues to build his church upon our confession of faith that he was the one promised by the Father to die and pay the penalty of our sinfulness and to defeat death and the grave by rising again. No individual makes the church. Saint Paul speaks of members of the body of Christ; members mean absolutely nothing when they are severed from the body. Every functioning, contributing, participating member is important to the good of our witness.

Jesus Christ is the cornerstone of the church. We are each to be a living stone cemented to the cornerstone and to one another. Each of us has a divine destiny and a place in the drama of divine redemption. We have been baptized into a high vocation. We were once nobody’s people, destined to hell. We are now God’s people, called to serve the Lord, on our way to heaven. We have gone from rags to riches, from a pig sty to a royal palace.

We are God’s own people. We belong to God, saved from hell by the sacrifice of Christ. We are, therefore, called to produce - produce the light of Christ in our words and deeds. We are called by Christ to servanthood, to sacrifice, into ministry. Such ministry is fed and coordinated in the local parish. If each Christian took seriously the Lord’s Word, our ministry and effectiveness as darkness dispellers would double, perhaps even triple. With the help of God, let’s turn on our lights ... full strength.

In The Message, Eugene Peterson paraphrases the familiar words of the Word becoming flesh this way: "The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into our neighborhood." This is the remarkable truth we celebrate during the Christmas season, a truth we would do well to carry into the new year—that ours is a creating God who continues to act in human life, bringing light into our darkness, hope into our despair, life into our brokenness, love into our fear and suspicion and dread. And perhaps it is only when life is at its toughest, when that light seems most elusive, that faith begins to make sense at all. For it is faith that empowers us, when immersed in darkness, to trust in the presence of the light.

Hebrews 11:32 - "And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephtah, of David and Samuel and the prophets -"

"Prophet" is the Greek word used in the Greek Old Testament to translate a Hebrew word whose meaning is obscure; the Greek meant a person who spoke or interpreted oracles, and therefore was not speaking his own thoughts, but those of a god. Although the word in essence means "forth-telling," not "fore-telling," still part of the Greek word means "before," and since they considered prophecies and prophetic utterances to deal with future events and foreknowledge, it was not difficult for them to take the next step and consider that the prophetic message was a predictive one. They also felt that a prophet must necessarily speak while in an ecstatic state, so that the god might speak through him. It was this idea of the prophet as giving ecstatic predictions that has colored and misinterpreted our understanding through the centuries.

While it is true, as stated above, that the meaning of the Hebrew word is obscure, the most generally accepted scholarly opinion is that it merely meant "to announce;" but this announcement was on divine order, and so, finally, the prophet was one "who utters a God-given message." This could be, and often was, a prediction of future events, usually a warning of doom if conditions were not improved, but it did not have to be such a message. Whatever it involved, it came directly from God, and it is for this that we remember the prophets - as spokesmen for God.

In this way, we can see that the prophet differs from the priest. While both were communicators, they were on opposite sides of the fence, so to speak - the priest carried the words and petitions of the people to God, while the prophet carried God’s messages to the people.

We have a wide range of individuals in the ranks of the prophets - from the early ecstatics to the sophiscated such as Isaiah; from those who acted out their prophecies to those who were almost fantastically visionary; from those who were specifically ethical to those who were seemingly objective. All of which tells us that God never goes by any man’s rules - he chooses the best and most effective medium at any one time. And certainly the disparity of the prophets is proof of that.

Prophecy, as such, had long disappeared by New Testament times, although we find the use of the term in connection with New Testament men (and women, too). But in the New Testament, it refers to preachers and evangelists; they were Christian teachers to whom the Spirit, at times, made special direct communication and who interpreted God’s will to man.

Today, of course, the pastor or preacher or minister of a congregation fulfills the role of the prophet. In fact, this is one of the specific elements within the call to preach.

If John's Gospel were the only one we had, there would be no little town of Bethlehem. There'd be no shepherds out in their fields. There would be no manger and no virgin birth. No north star and no creche. If John is all we had here is all that we would know about Jesus' birth: before his name was Jesus, his name was the Word, and he was with God from the very beginning of creation, bringing things into being, making things happen, shining light into the darkness. 

He was God's self, God's soul, God's life force in the world. He was the breath inside all living things. He was the electric spark that charged peoples' hearts. He was the fire inside the sun. He was the space between the stars. He was the axis around which the galaxies spin.

John goes on to say that not everyone got that message. Many were blinded by this light and preferred the darkness they knew to the light which they did not know. The Word sidled up to them and hummed life into their ears, but they cleared their throats and walked away. So God decided to speak in a new way. God decided to speak body language. "And the Word became flesh and lived among us full of grace and truth." 

This is John's Christmas story in a nutshell. Like Luke, John is telling us about an encounter with the Holy One. God's Word was translated into a human being. God's self, soul, and life force were concentrated into one mortal life on earth, and as a result, nothing would ever be the same again. Not because everyone listened, because everyone does not, but because the eternal Word of God took human form. 

Some Christians make their faith sound so simple. Find Jesus, they assert, be saved, and that will take care of everything. All will be finished, done, complete, settled. But to embrace the light and love of Christ is just the beginning. It is a significant step, but only a beginning. We must then struggle with the presence of darkness, even as we affirm God's gift of light. We must then grapple with the challenge to be co-creators with God as we anticipate that new creation.

William Willimon, dean of the chapel at DukeUniversity, asserts:

Show me a person who is not waiting [for something more to come], not yearning, not leaning forward, standing on tiptoe for something better, and I will show you a person who has given up hope for anything better, someone who has settled down too comfortably in present arrangements. And that's sad. The future belongs to those who wait, for those who know we are meant for something better. The present darkness is not our final destination.

When my family and I went to Disney World, we went through the cave on Tom Sawyer’s Island. The darkness in this cave was so deep that there was nothing for your eyes to adjust to. As you walked you had to listen for the person in front of you so you wouldn’t bump into him. I did bump into the next person and so waited a while for him to go forward. And after a few minutes realized that he had moved on already and I had been waiting for so long for nothing. The light when you finally came out of the cave was welcome and brilliant.

But many people today are like a person walking in the darkness, stumbling along, bumping into things and afraid to step.

At age twelve, Robert Louis Stevenson was looking out into the dark from his upstairs window watching a man light the streetlamps. Stevenson’s governess came into the room and asked what he was doing. He replied, "I am watching a man cut holes in the darkness."

This is a marvelous picture of what our task should be as sharers of God's light—people who are busy cutting holes in the spiritual darkness of our world.

A man was once put in a dark cave. He was sentenced to die in the cave unless he could find his way out. The cave was 100 yards by 100 yards and he was told that there really was a way out.

The cave was sealed by a very large rock. After the cave was sealed the prisoner was allowed to take off his blindfold. In the midst of the darkness he walked around the cave. He had food, but it was bread and water which would only last for thirty days. The food was lowered to him from a hole in the ceiling of the cave which was about eighteen feet high. The opening was only one foot in diameter.

The man investigated the cave and soon discovered that there was a pile of rocks. He quickly determined that if he could build up the pile of rocks even higher, perhaps he could escape. By calculating both his height and his reach he believed that he needed to build the mound ten feet high.

Every moment was devoted to finding rocks and placing them in the pile. After two weeks he had built the mound to about six feet. He figured that over the next two weeks he could complete the task before the food would run out. He had not taken into account that he had already used up most of the rocks in the cave. Now he would have to use the rocks that were left and certainly more dirt. He had nothing with which to dig but his bare hands. After the next two weeks had passed he had only built the mound to nine-and-a-half feet; he thought that he could perhaps reach the opening if he were to jump. At this point he was near exhaustion. As he tried to jump and reach the opening he fell. Now he was too weak to get up and try again and in two days he was dead.

When they came to remove his body from the cave, they removed the large stone that covered the entrance, and the light that poured in revealed everything. In the light it was evident that there was an opening in the wall of the cave at ground level. The hole in the wall was the beginning of a tunnel that traveled for 200 feet and led to freedom. The captured man had so focused on the opening above that he never thought that there could be another way out of the cave. The opening was right next to the mound that he had been building. The trouble was that the opening on the ground level was in the darkness and did not seem possible to him.

Too often people reject Jesus as a way to freedom because it seems too easy or impractical. Sometimes he is rejected because it seems too dark and difficult. We think that we can do it by our own efforts and that we do not need his help. Today he asks us to let go of all of our attempts to find freedom and follow him.

Adapted from John Bradshaw, Healing the Shame that Binds (Deerfield Beach, Florida: Health Communications, Inc.), p. 117.

As Paul Tillich put it so eloquently: "Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness . . . It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign with us as they have for decades . . . Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: " ‘You are accepted. . . .'"

We are accepted. Now we must accept others. The greatest need some people have is to be accepted. Acceptance changes lives. Let's you and I work together to make this house of worship known as a place where people can discover the acceptance of God and of the Christian community.

The full Tillich quote: Grace Strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness and it is as though a voice were saying: “You are accepted. You are accepted. Accepted by that which is greater than you and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek anything, do not perform anything, do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted. If that happens to us, we experience grace.

Johann Wolfgang Goethe was the last of the so-called universal human beings. I mean by that, he was one of the last of our western civilization to have gained the mastery of every academic discipline. In his long life, he became renowned as a poet, as an artist, as a musician, as a playwright and historian. There was hardly a single facet of human knowledge of which he did not have a tremendous grasp. As he lay dying in 1832, the story is that he suddenly sat up, bolted upright in bed, and cried out with great poignancy, "Light, light, more light." One of his biographers said that this was a fitting climax to this particular individual's life because his whole existence had been dedicated to learning more, to pushing back the parameters of darkness. He died as he lived, wanting to learn more.

Many decades later Miguel Unamuno, the great Spanish philosopher, was reading a biography of Goethe and when he came to the death-bed scene, he allegedly read out loud to his wife what I have just described. Then he closed the book and said very thoughtfully, "You know for all his brilliance, Goethe was mistaken. Instead of crying for light, light, more light, what he should have asked for was warmth, warmth, more warmth, for human beings do not die of the darkness; they die of the cold."

Eric Clapton, arguably the greatest living rock guitarist, wrote a heart wrenching song about the death of his four year old son (March 20, 1991). He fell from a 53rd-story window. Clapton took nine months off and when he returned his music had changed. The hardship had made his music softer, more powerful, and more reflective. You have perhaps heard the song he wrote about his son's death. It is a song of hope:

Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven.

Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?
I'll find my way through night and day,
'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven.

Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please.
Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,
And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven.

Jesus has just had the Passover meal with his disciples. He has washed their feet in an act of servanthood. He has foretold his betrayal which Judas will soon perform. He has predicted Peter's denial. He has told them he is leaving. But he adds this word of hope: Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house there are many rooms. I go to prepare a place for you and will come again and take you to myself. So that where I am, you may be also.

Hardship has a way of getting our attention. Pain slows us down. Very few us, after facing a trial, come out the same way we entered in. Jesus understood this and attempted to prepare his disciples for the road ahead.

Jesus stressed the positive effect we can have on others when he said, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16, rsv) But if sin dims our testimony so that our “light” is no longer visible, some of those we might have influenced for Christ may drift on in spiritual darkness.

On a dark and stormy night, with waves piling up like mountains on Lake Erie, a boat rocked and plunged near the Cleveland harbor. “Are we on course?” asked the captain, seeing only one beacon from the lighthouse. “Quite sure, sir,” replied the officer at the helm. “Where are the lower lights?” “Gone out, sir.” “Can we make the harbor?” “We must, or perish!” came the reply. With a steady hand and a stalwart heart, the officer headed the ship toward land.

But, in the darkness, he missed the channel and the vessel was dashed to pieces on the rocks. Many lives were lost in a watery grave. This incident moved Philip P. Bliss to write the familiar hymn, “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning.”

The earliest known mention of the expression "Apostles' Creed" occurs in a letter of AD 390 from a synod in Milan. The most traditional version of the creed is as follows:

I believe in God, the Father almighty,
      creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
      who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
      and born of the virgin Mary.
      He suffered under Pontius Pilate,
      was crucified, died, and was buried;
      he descended to hell.
      The third day he rose again from the dead.
      He ascended to heaven
      and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty.
      From there he will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,
      the holy catholic* church,
      the communion of saints,
      the forgiveness of sins,
      the resurrection of the body,
      and the life everlasting. Amen.

*that is, the true Christian church of all times and all places

The Old Roman Symbol (Latin: vetus symbolum romanum), or Old Roman Creed, is an earlier and shorter version of the Apostles’ Creed. It was based on the 2nd-century Rule of Faith and the interrogatory declaration of faith for those receiving Baptism. It is said that this earlier and first adopted version was based on the Trinitarian formula found in The Great Commission in Matthew 28:19. It was widely accepted in the 4th century, that, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, each of the Twelve Apostles contributed an article to the twelve articles of this creed:

I believe in God the Father almighty;
and in Christ Jesus His only Son, our Lord,
     Who was born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary,
     Who under Pontius Pilate was crucified and buried,
     on the third day rose again from the dead,
     ascended to heaven,
     sits at the right hand of the Father,
     whence He will come to judge the living and the dead;
and in the Holy Spirit,
     the holy Church,
     the remission of sins,
     the resurrection of the flesh
     (the life everlasting)

The Apostles' Creed (100 A.D.) is the oldest and shortest creed with only 109 words in the traditional version. Only the New Testament creed, "Jesus is Lord," is older. It is also the most often used -- practically every Sunday, except for festivals and seasons when the Nicene Creed is confessed. Undoubtedly, it is the most universal statement of the Christian faith.

By 100 A.D. the Apostles' Creed became the basic statement of faith for the church. In the first century, it was the rule of faith for baptismal candidates. In 390 it became known as the Apostles' Creed, even though it was not written by the apostles but contained the beliefs of the apostles. An ancient legend has it that after Pentecost the apostles agreed on a summary of what they were going to preach. The summary was the Apostles' Creed. Yet, the creed did not reach its final form until the sixth or seventh century. Martin Luther held this creed in such high regard that he used it in his Small Catechism to teach families what a Christian believes. To this day the Small Catechism is used as the basis for youth and adult preparation for church membership in Lutheran churches.

Christian thinking about salvation has divided itself into two main streams which I like to think of as: "Monkey-hold" salvation or "Cat-hold" salvation. The difference in theological viewpoint is seen in how monkeys and cats protect their young. A mother monkey will sound the alarm when danger lurks. The baby monkeys come running to her and hold tightly to her fur as she runs to safety. A mother cat, on the other hand, picks her kittens up by the nape of the neck and carries them in her mouth out of harm's way. So, which is it? Monkey-hold salvation or Cat-hold salvation? Does God sound the alarm in Jesus leaving us to come running and hold on tightly, or does Christ take us by the nape of the neck and carry us to the throne of grace?

At least in Jesus' parables it appears to be a Cat-hold salvation. Jesus pictures God as a shepherd who seeks out a lost lamb and carries it home on his shoulders. Or a homemaker who searches every corner of the house for a lost coin until she finds it and rejoices with her friends. Our salvation rests in the care and keeping of a seeking Savior. The message is simple and clear: We do not have to worry about holding on to God's coat tails for God will not let go of ours.

Isaiah, the poet-prophet paints a vivid picture of a depraved society that has turned away from God, a whole community that is contaminated by sin and injustice. There is nothing in the words of the prophets that would not apply to our times and our society also. And it brings chills down the spine. Listen to the words:

"We wait for light, and lo! there is darkness; and for brightness, but we walk in gloom. We grope like the blind along a wall, groping like those who have no eyes; we stumble at noon as in the twilight, among the vigorous as though we are dead."

Unlike the spiritually blind society described by Isaiah, this one physically blind man named Bartimaeus reacts as though he has been waiting for the coming Jesus. He can't run because he cannot see. He cannot even walk, because the crowd is so thick; he might get trampled over.

But he knows it is now or never. From where he is sitting he raises his strong voice and shouts words that can get him in trouble. But he doesn't care. Listen to the words: "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me." He knows the name of the Nazarene, because his fame has reached in all towns and villages. But when he says, "Son of David," that immediately puts Jesus in the royal succession and identifies him as the Messiah. Now, the acceptance of that title on the part of Jesus is what the enemies of Jesus were waiting for in order to arrest him. To claim the title Son of David would be to lay claim to royal kinship and to the role of the awaited Messiah.

"How the mighty have fallen." King David of old once spoke those words concerning the death of King Saul. "How the mighty have fallen." These words have transcended the Bible and become the language of popular culture. A newspaper report a few years ago on some pastors who had fallen from grace used this biblical passage as its headline. The article was about two well-known television preachers -- Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker -- whose sins had been publicly exposed. "How the mighty have fallen" the newspaper headline gloated! Jimmy Swaggart is an interesting case in point.

Newsweek magazine once carried an article that featured this highly talented preacher. The article quoted one man as saying that Jimmy Swaggart was one of the most entertaining people on television in any field. The man didn't believe what Swaggart preached but he was dazzled by his entertainment and communication skills. "How the mighty have fallen!" Swaggart's sin seemed to be his fascination with pornography. One who knew him well over the years said: "His weakness for pornography finally beat him. He's fasted and prayed many times to overcome this weakness." Swaggart's weakness for pornography often led him to Louisiana brothels. It doesn't appear to be the case that Swaggart had sex with these women. He just asked them to pose for him in some suggestive ways. One night as he was leaving a brothel, however, someone who was out to expose him took some pictures. The pictures undid him. Scandal raged. Swaggart faced his congregation with tears running down his cheeks and remorse in his heart.

The response to Swaggart's fall was highly judgmental. People judged Swaggart harshly because he had been so judgmental in his preaching. In his judgments he came down on all sorts and varieties of people, including Christian people. Of the ministry of Jim Bakker, for example, Swaggart had said: "He's a cancer on the body of Christ that needs to be excised." Swaggart's preaching was judgmental indeed.

Swaggart was also judged harshly because of the peculiar nature of his message. Swaggart's message went beyond the proclamation of Jesus Christ to be a message fundamentally about the holiness work of the Holy Spirit. He proclaimed over and over again that through the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives we can overcome all sin. Thus he judged sinners. He invited sinners to be filled with the Holy Spirit in order to overcome all sin. Victory over sin would belong to all those who did business with the Holy Spirit.

What are we to think of this promise in light of Swaggart's own dark side? It's no wonder that some people relished the chance to defrock Swaggart in public. The mighty had fallen indeed. Hopefully he learned something from his trials.  A hint of wisdom is evident in some of the things he says. For example, he said reflecting on his experiences: "I have seen that the gospel is perfect but its messengers are not." Jimmy Swaggart could now identify with Peter, who began his ministry with these words: "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." Ministry always begins in confession!"

One of the things that most young children fear are monsters. Unlike the imagined monsters of children, the early church had a real monster of its own. It was a most deadly enemy that roamed about. The monster was the notion that Christ alone was not adequate for a person’s salvation. And this monster gave birth to another monster, the monster of uncertainty over our own salvation. Both monsters were real - both were inspired by the devil. Unfortunately, they are still very much with us today. Many of us are puzzled and uncertain as to whether we will be saved. To solve the salvation puzzle we must kill the monster of uncertainty that suggests we trust in something other than Christ alone for our salvation.

Recently, I surveyed a large sample of our congregation. I was amazed to discover that so many were puzzled over the crucial question of their eternal life. Perhaps some of you reading this meditation do not feel certain that if you died tonight that you will be with God in heaven. Many who feel certain that they will go to heaven do not base such certainty on faith in Jesus Christ alone. The devil that roamed freely in the early church is still with us.

Brothers and sisters, our salvation is unreasonable, and this is what causes much of our puzzlement. We have been trained from childhood that we must work out our own problems and map out our own destiny. To think that God’s salvation is a pure gift, won for us by God’s actions and effected without any help or aid from us, militates against our, "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" philosophy.

Second, it smacks us where we hurt the most, right in our pride. Adults are hesitant about accepting gifts which they know they have not earned or merited. We do not want to feel obligated to anyone. It is not an easy matter for us to come before Almighty God and accept what he wants to give us - the most wonderful gift of eternal life. It takes a humble person to make such a confession from his heart and to stand totally dependent on God.

Third, for most of us, everything that we have has a price tag on it. Then we are confronted with the strange news of a gospel which declares that God’s salvation is a free gift. Our experience with every other valuable gift causes us to stop and think, "Is that reasonable? There must be a hidden cost, a string attached, we must have to do something. How can God really give us something so wonderful for nothing?"

In the survey of our congregation we also asked our people, "If you were to die tonight and stand before God and he were to ask you, ‘Why should I let you into my heaven?’ what would you answer him?" What would you answer him? Take a second, think about it. Let me share with you some answers others gave: "I’ve lived a Christian life, loving and caring for my fellowman." "I am a good person and love to help others." "I’ve tried my best to do what you have expected of me." What is the common element in all these answers? It is "I." Everyone emphasizes what I have done.

The Bible says, "For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is a gift of God, not because of works, lest any man should boast." Heaven is a most wonderful gift, it is not something earned or deserved, it is only received by faith. Our faith in Jesus Christ is the key that opens heaven to us.

"Those who choose evil shall have their choice. Men who hate divine mercy shall not have it forced upon them, but (unless sovereign grace interpose) shall be left to themselves to aggravate their guilt and ensure their doom.

"They have loved darkness rather than light, and in darkness they shall abide. Eyes which see no beauty in the Lord Jesus, but flash wrath upon Him, may well grow yet more dim, till death which is spiritual leads to death which is eternal.

"What can be too severe a penalty for those who reject the incarnate God, and refuse to obey the commands of His mercy? They deserve to be flooded with wrath, and they shall be; for upon all who rebel against the Savior, 'wrath has come upon them to the uttermost' (I Thessalonians 2:16).

"God's indignation is no trifle. The anger of a holy, just, omnipotent, and infinite Being, is above all things to be dreaded; even a drop of it consumes, but to have it poured upon us is inconceivably dreadful."

The relationship between truth and holiness is similar to that between light and vision. Light cannot create an eye or give a blind eye vision, but it is essential to seeing. Wherever light penetrates, it dissipates darkness and brings everything into view. In a similar manner, truth cannot regenerate or impart spiritual life, but it is essential to the practice of holiness. Wherever truth penetrates, it dissipates error and reveals everything for what it really is.

Oswald Chambers, the great Christian writer, noted, "Someone who is constantly criticized becomes good for nothing; the effect of criticism knocks all the gumption and power out of the person. Criticism is deadly in its effect because it divides one's powers and prevents one from being a force for anything. That is never the work of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit alone is in the true position of a critic: He is able to show what is wrong, without wounding or hurting.

"The counsel of Jesus is to abstain from judging. This sounds strange at first, because the characteristic of the Holy Spirit in a Christian is to reveal the things that are wrong; but the strangeness exists only on the surface.

The Holy Spirit does reveal what is wrong in others, but His discernment is never for the purposes of criticism, but for the purposes of intercession."

It is commonly accepted that the first Church Council met in Jerusalem sometime between A.D. 44-47. Acts 15:4-19 relates that a major part of the agenda was concerned with the matter of whether or not circumcision should be required of Gentile converts. The Jerusalem party said "Yes," while Paul and Barnabas, who were not requiring circumcision of their new converts said "No." A lengthy debate ensued, followed by a brief statement by Peter: "And after there had been much debate, Peter rose and said to them, ‘Brethren ... why do you make a trial of God by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers or we have been able to bear? But we believe that we shall be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, just as they will" (10-11).

Peter’s argument against requiring circumcision of Gentile converts was followed by a pronounced silence within the assembly. After a while, Paul and Barnabas recounted some of the "signs and wonders" which God had accomplished through them among the Gentiles. Finally, James, the leader of the church in Jerusalem and, according to one tradition, the brother of Jesus, concluded the matter with an authoritative judgment: "Brethren ... my judgment is that we should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God" (13-19).

The Council has decided: 1. salvation hinges upon but one requirement - faith in Jesus Christ; 2. Christianity would widen it’s orbit to become a world religion. The message of Christ was conceived to be too wonderful to be confined to a clique, territory, or any exclusive setting; 3. Christianity, unlike a religion based upon legalism, is a matter of the spirit.

The issue had clearly been what Charles M. Laymon calls the matter of "Christ-plus." "Christ-plus" refers to whether or not salvation requires anything in addition to faith in Christ. In other words, is salvation understood to mean faith in Christ plus something else? Unfortunately, it is not unusual to observe certain Christians who insist that salvation requires faith in Christ plus participation in a specific mode of baptism, or manner of observing the Lord’s Supper, or actually belonging to a particular fellowship. Exclusiveness erects fences. Jesus Christ tears down fences.

John Bunyan in his immortal allegory, Pilgrims’ Progress, told of the pilgrim who set out from the City of Destruction for the City of Life. Pilgrim will forever be known as a selfish and unworthy man because he made the pursuit of his own salvation his chief aim in life, leaving his own family behind in the City of Destruction. Devoted though he was, he was yet misled by the "Christ-plus" attitude.

Salvation is not so much a matter of what one must do, as a matter of what Christ has already done in our behalf.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In ancient times soldiers who went into battle were clad in heavy armor to protect them against the spears and arrows of their enemies. In Ephesians, chapter 6, the Apostle Paul urges his fellow-Christians to take upon themselves the "whole armor of God." Be equipped, he says, with the "breastplate of righteousness," "the shield of faith," "the helmet of salvation," "the sword of the Spirit."

"Stand," he says, stand up against evil. "Withstand in the evil day," he says, and "quench the flaming darts of the evil one." The armament he prescribes is for standing, not for running away; it is not for defense only, but also for conquest.

Paul's picture is that of a solitary soldier. But soldiers usually do not fight alone - and neither do we who are Christian soldiers. In the old Macedonian phalanx, the soldiers were positioned shoulder to shoulder, marching close, shields overlapping, spears held forward at striking level. We who are involved in the conflict with evil in our time ought to stand and march as members together of an invincible phalanx of faith.

May this hour be an assembling ground for us, and here may we take up and put on the armor of our warfare. When we go from here may it be shoulder to shoulder, eyes forward, at attention, and on the alert for whatever darkness needs to be dispelled by light, for whatever ugliness needs to be displaced by beauty, for whatever wrong needs to be set right. Here in this assembly may we get together, and when we go may we be together.

On the journey of Advent, we light the first candle, and we read biblical passages that propel us into the future to consider the end of time-the apocalypse. Today, our reading sends us in the opposite direction. On the second Sunday of Advent, we are pulled into the distant past to hear the words of the ancient prophet, Malachi. Malachi tells of a figure who is coming "to prepare the way for the Lord." He speaks of a messenger who will purify people's hearts. "God is sending an emissary," writes Malachi, "who comes intending to cleanse your souls."

It all seems a bit presumptuous, doesn't it? In the midst of our pre-Christmas hustle and bustle, the church trots out some primitive prophet who promises us an Advent scrub-down. Is that really what we need right now? You would think that the lectionary could come up with a few encouraging words at this time-assuring us that we will make it through another Christmas, instead of cheekily suggesting that before God arrives, we need a bath.

Some years ago, a movie titled Zapata depicted the engaging story of the famous Mexican hero, Zapata. He was to the Mexicans what "El Cid" was to the Spanish: a redeemer of his people. Those who loved Zapata were radically devoted to him and his cause. At the end, when Zapata was ambushed by government troops, the white horse upon which he had led countless charges, escaped into the hills. The peasants violently refused to believe that their leader would have allowed himself to be ambushed and killed, and whenever they caught a glimpse of the white horse in the hills, they claimed that it carried Zapata, signaling to them that he would return. They fully expected the return, but in time, the expectation died.

Although Jesus attempted on several occasions to interpret specific events to his disciples, as well as to prepare them for his certain return, not one of them was prepared. As Carlyle Marney once said, none of them lay hidden in the shrubbery near the tomb ... waiting ... waiting. Judas had gone off somewhere and hanged himself. The others were scattered, afraid, stroking their wounds, trying to recover from the total collaspe of everything. They had not been prepared for the crucifixion, much less the Resurrection. The post-Resurrection appearances mentioned in our scripture caught them totally by surprise. Two observations about the particular appearance described in our text:

1. The two men were on their way to Emmaus, discussing events pertaining to the crucifixion. Jesus caught up to them in the midst of their own journey, becoming a part of it himself, and in the end, baptizing it with his blessing. Those of us in the church believe that this is still the way Christ often comes into our lives. Off on our own journeys, pursuing some goal or objective, totally submerged in our own concerns ... determined, ambitious, outrunning the spiritual life while in full stride toward that which we hope to achieve. And then, it happens. In half-step we are arrested by the sudden awareness of another presence; we had not expected it, nor do we always recognize it immediately. It just abides, and just as with the Emmaus travelers, it comes into clearer focus in due time. As the Holy Spirit accompanies us in our own journeys, it is hoped that somewhere along the way it may be with us as it was with them; "And their eyes were opened and they recognized him" (v. 31).

2. It is significant that Jesus was made known to them in the "breaking of bread." In the upper room Jesus had taken the elements of the Passover meal and transformed them into something completely different. The familiar ritual was changed from remarks about the Passover to references to the "body and blood" of the host. In a very real sense, Jesus’ messianic identity was uniquely made known to them in the breaking of bread in the upper room. Then, at Emmaus, he was again "made known" in the breaking of bread. There are other references to post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus at which his presence was made known around a meal (see Mark 16:14; John 21:9-14). Little wonder that early Christians quickly associated a mystical significance with the meal, more specifically, the Eucharist. Consequently, the church observed communion several times daily with the prayer, "Maranatha" (Come Lord!).

The expected return of Zapata was never fulfilled, and eventually the expectation faded. The unexpected return of Jesus of Nazareth took even his followers by surprise. Ironically, it seems that he must still catch us from behind.

Bishop Bob Morgan in his book Who's Coming To Dinner? tells a powerful story about a Dutch pastor and his family who during the second World War got into big trouble with the Nazis. The Dutch pastor and his family had been hiding Jewish people in their home to keep them safe from Hitler's forces. They were eventually found out. And one night in the darkness, they heard the sound of heavy boots and the loud impatient knocking on the door. They were arrested and loaded into a cattle car to be taken to one of the notorious death camps. All night long the Dutch pastor and his family rode along in heart-breaking anguish, jostling against one another and against the other prisoners who were jammed into the train cattle car. They were stripped of any form of dignity and absolutely terrified.  They knew they were being taken to one of Hitler's extermination centers. But which one? Would it be Auschwitz, Buchenwald, or Dachau?

Finally, the long night ended and the train stopped. The doors of the cattle car were opened and light streamed into that tragic scene.  They were marched out and were lined up beside the railroad tracks, resigned to unspeakable pain, as they knew they would be separated from each other and ultimately killed.  But in the midst of their gloom, they discovered some amazing good news… good news beyond belief.  They discovered in the bright morning sunlight that they were not in a death camp at all, not in Germany at all.  Rather, they were in Switzerland!

During the night, someone through personal courage and daring had tripped a switch… and sent the train to Switzerland… and to freedom.  And those now who came to them were not their captors at all, but rather their liberators.  Instead of being marched to death, they were welcomed to new life.  In the midst of his joy and relief, the Dutch pastor said, "What do you do with such a gift?"

Something like that happened to the disciples at Pentecost.  They were afraid, confused, unsure, overwhelmed… and then came this incredible gift… the gift of the Holy Spirit!  It turned their lives around… and empowered by this amazing gift, they went out and turned the world upside down.

"The two biggest sellers in any bookstore are the cookbooks and the diet books. The cookbooks tell you how to prepare the food and the diet books tell you how not to eat any of it." So observed Sixty Minutes commentator Andy Rooney (quoted by Fred Lyon in "The Savior Life Diet," Lectionary Homiletics, August, 1997, p. 21). I made a trip to the discount bookstore this past week to see if Andy Rooney was right. I discovered he was at least partly right. There were lots and lots of cookbooks there. I stopped counting at 250 different titles – because at 250 I was only half-way through the cookbook section! And, that didn't count the bargain bins!

There was an astonishing array of topics and titles. I found cookbooks for Christmas. And, it's only August! I found Visible Vegetables, The Terrific Pacific Cookbook, Glorious Garlic, 50 Ways with Fish, 365 More Receipts for Chicken, Cooking for Dummies, Dad's Own Cookbook: Everything Your Mother Never Taught You, to name only a few. (It was interesting to me that Cooking for Dummies and Dad's Own Cookbook were really near each other on the bookshelves!)

The bookstore didn't have quite as many diet books. But, there was a fair number of titles, including The Weigh Down Diet, Controlling Your Fat Tooth, The Suzanne Sommers Eat Great Lose Weight diet book, and The Ten Habits of Naturally Slim People. (Not being among the "naturally slim" myself, I thought I'd have a look in this one to see what I might learn. I discovered habit number eight was: only eat when you're hungry. Why didn't I think of that?)

And, whether or not the bookstore had them in stock, we all know there are lots and lots of other diet books and diet plans. It reminds me of the refrigerator magnet I once saw. It read, "A waist is a terrible thing to mind!"

Now, there's nothing wrong with having a healthy concern for our bodies. It's admirable, really. The "body is a temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Corinthians 6:19, RSV). But I wonder if this obsession with getting food into us, and then getting those unwanted pounds off of us, isn't perhaps symptomatic of something else.

We may pursue the material when what we really need is spiritual. The hunger that drives us to cookbooks and restaurants (and then, to diet clubs or health clubs), the emptiness we try to pack with possessions, the way we may try to fill ourselves up with more recognition, more titles, more awards, more experiences; could these not be our spiritual emptiness crying out for God?

The Holy Spirit's distinctive role is to fulfill what we may call a floodlight ministry in relation to the Lord Jesus Christ. So far as this role was concerned, the Spirit "was not yet" (John 7:29, literal Greek) while Jesus was on earth; only when the Father had glorified him (John 17:1, 5) could the Spirit's work of making men aware of Jesus' glory begin.

One pastor recalls walking to church one winter evening to preach on the words, "He will glorify me" (John 16:14), seeing the building floodlit as he turned a corner, and realizing that this was exactly the illustration his message needed. When floodlighting is well done, the floodlights are placed so that you do not see them; in fact, you are not supposed to see where the light is coming from; what you are meant to see is just the building on which the floodlights are trained. The intended effect is to make it visible when otherwise it would not be seen for the darkness, and to maximize its dignity by throwing all its details into relief so that you can see it properly. This perfectly illustrated the Spirit's new covenant role. He is, so to speak, the hidden floodlight shining on the Savior.

Or think of it this way. It is as if the Spirit stands behind us, throwing light over our shoulder on to Jesus who stands facing us. The Spirit's message to us is never, "Look at me; listen to me; come to me; get to know me", but always, "Look at him, and see his glory; listen to him and hear his word; go to him and have life; get to know him and taste his gift of joy and peace." The Spirit, we might say, is the matchmaker, the celestial marriage broker, whose role it is to bring us and Christ together and ensure that we stay together.