Ithaca High School has been known over the years for its championship wrestling teams. I wrestled on some of those teams in the late 1960s when Steve Waterman was our coach. Steve encouraged us to give our best for the school and the team, but he also made it very clear that church, family and relationships with friends came first. His supportive style of coaching and his caring personality fostered a team spirit that, for many of us, resulted in great individual achievements. We knew that he cared about us more than he cared about winning, and that made all the difference. There were many of us in those years who excelled beyond personal expectations and abilities because of the support and encouragement that we received from Coach Waterman. But, of all the good wrestlers I knew at Ithaca, the best among us was one who never won more than a few matches in his whole high school career.

Rolland Spencer was our heavyweight. At five-foot-four, 162 pounds, he was smaller than most of the wrestlers he went up against. Some of them were over six feet tall and weighed up to 300 pounds. He wrestled some guys who looked absolutely terrifying. They were not only big and strong, they were mean. There were several occasions when we tried to convince Rolland to forfeit rather than risk getting hurt, but he always insisted on wrestling, and he always got pinned. Most of us would have quit after three or four matches like that. But Rolland was not a quitter. He went out, match after match, and gave the best that he had to give. After a while we began to root for him just to get through one match without getting pinned.

I have never been one who believed in praying for myself, or for my team, to win. I always prayed that God would help me to do my best and have always been satisfied with that, whether I won or lost. There was, however, one occasion when I prayed with all my might for our team to win. It happened in New Lisbon, at a late season meet against the Royal Panthers. After 11 bouts we were ahead by four points. There was one match remaining, heavyweight. Rolland was to face one of the biggest and best heavyweights in our part of the state. All he had to do was keep from getting pinned and we would win.

It looked like David against Goliath when Rolland went out to stand across from Royal's big heavyweight. We were all yelling and cheering for Rolland at the tops of our voices, and I don't think I was the only one who was praying like I had never prayed before: "Dear God, don't let him get hurt and keep him from getting pinned."

We thought it was going to be all over in the first period. The big man took Rolland down and tipped him over onto his back in a matter of seconds. Somehow Rolland was able to keep his shoulders off the mat until the buzzer went off ending the first two-minute period. The second and the third periods were the same. Each time Rolland was turned onto his back almost immediately, and each time he strained and pushed and somehow kept his shoulders from touching the mat for the required two seconds. The Royal heavyweight pushed him back and forth across the mat several times, trying almost every pinning combination in the book, but this time Rolland would not be pinned. When the final buzzer sounded, the Royal wrestler's arm was raised in victory, but it was Rolland who was really the victor, and everyone in that gymnasium knew it. We all ran out onto the mat, hoisted Rolland up onto our shoulders and carried him off. No champion ever received or deserved more adulation and praise than Rolland Spencer got that night. We whooped and hollered all the way home. And in the few, quiet moments that came in the midst of our celebrating, I thanked God for keeping Rolland safe and helping him to win.

Author's Note: Rolland Spencer is a self-employed mechanic in Lone Rock, Wisconsin. Steve Waterman is superintendent of schools in Mediappolis, Iowa. The story appears here with their permission. Ithaca High School still produces some of the best wrestlers in the nation.

In a sermon titled, "Can We Get What We Want if We Pray in Christ's Name?", the late, great British preacher, Leslie Weatherhead, examines John 14:13, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do." He says: "That sentence certainly sounds like what businessmen call 'a firm offer,' an explicit promise. If we are to bank on the 'promises of Holy Scripture,' then surely we can bank on that."

He adds a personal story: "I remember, as a boy of 15, banking on it. I wanted to pass an examination. I had had a religious upbringing. I read the words of our text carefully. They seemed too good to be true. But there they were, definite and apparently unambiguous. 'Whatsoever!' Surely matriculation could be included. You had only to add the magic formula 'in the name of Jesus,' and the thing was done!"

Weatherhead says, "I very badly wanted to pass that examination, and I had worked hard for it. So, on the night before it began, I reminded God that Christ had promised, in his sacred word, that whatsoever we asked in his name we should have. I failed! What was worse, though I didn't think so at the time, I lost a good deal of faith. It didn't seem fair. What is the good of scripture promises if they let you down just when you want them most? The lamp flickered that time. The light almost went out."

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

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

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

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

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

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

We must pray, believe, and work!

I think both Jesus and Paul listened to people as much as they talked.  Paul was in dialogue with his Greek audience enough to know their beliefs and find God revealed in them. But Paul was also not afraid to put his own Christian faith into the marketplace of ideas.

Wil Willimon and Stanley Haweras have raised this issue on the DukeUniversity campus in our time. According to Willimon, the popular idea that all religions are essentially the same and merely a matter of personal opinion is both intellectually dishonest and ultimately intolerant. As Willimon suggests, "this is merely a way of saying, `Religion is wonderful as long as we first all agree that it doesn't mean anything.'" And any genuine student of world religions knows they are very different from one another in the way they understand the Divine, the human, and the world. No, it is more honest and more respectful to learn the specifics, to understand the differences, and to know what you believe and claim it. It is possible to honor other people, to respect their religious beliefs, to find common ground where it actually exists, and to assert your own faith at the same time. Having a specific faith, talking about a specific faith does not mean you have to be arrogant and intolerant about the faith of others. Says Willimon:

Sometimes the biggest challenge is to admit that all of us are living by some point of view or another. All of us are betting our life on something. We may be betting our life on the point of view that says, "I try not to have any point of view other than the officially enforced point of view that there are no points of view worth acknowledging or living and dying by." Or, there is that point of view that says, "I still have lots of questions about Jesus and his way; of course there is still much about all this that I don't understand, and I fall constantly short of being a faithful follower of Jesus, nevertheless, I am trying. I am convinced that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, and I am doing my best to be faithful to that."

A Christian who understands his own religion laughs when unbelievers expect to trouble him by the assertion that Jesus uttered no command which had not been anticipated by the Rabbis—few, indeed, which cannot be paralleled in classical ancient Egyptian, Ninevite, Babylonian, or Chinese texts. We have long recognized that truth with rejoicing.

The Hindu temple is built in the form of a man. The outer court raised on pillars and open on all sides is the human body, the inner court with its wide spaces is the human mind, the shrine room is the human soul. Man moves within himself into himself and there finds the presence of God. The Muslim mosque, too, is built in the form of a man. The central dome is man's head and the minarets are his hands upraised in prayer. Man comes to God through an act of adoration and submission. The Buddhist dogoba, too, is built in the form of a man. Its figure is that of a man in the posture of meditation: legs crossed the body erect, and the head held straight and unmoving. The approach to reality is by way of inner withdrawal from the world.

The Christian church, too, is built in the form of a man, a man stretched out upon a cross. And this has made all the difference. The church does not ask its followers to find their way, or to discover truth within. The church says one man, Jesus of Nazareth is that way, is the truth. He is life. We put our faith in him knowing

Friday night my wife and I went to a hockey game. It was between the Colorado Avalanche and the Mighty Ducks. Colorado's goalie got a penalty for "delay of game."  A penalty in hockey means your team plays short-handed while you sit in the penalty box.

Yet, during this penalty Colorado's goalie was still in the net. Do you know why? Because another player on his team was allowed to take the penalty for him. That other player was in the penalty box, suffering the consequences of what the goalie did, as if he was the one guilty of breaking the rules.

That's a picture of Christ. We broke the rules, we are the sinners, we have offended God's majesty, we have strayed from the Way, yet it is Christ who paid the penalty. The result? Through Christ and His cross we have a way to God and heaven and eternal life. Through Christ we are saved!

The year was 1275 BC, before Christ.  The land was Egypt. The ruler was Pharaoh. The leader of the Jews was Moses. The Jews had been in slavery for four hundred years to the Egyptians, building their cities and pyramids. But God had sent the plagues, and now the Jewish nation was beginning their exodus from slavery.  And at this particular moment, they were stopped by a body of water, the Red Sea, and the Egyptian chariots and horses were rapidly coming to attack and bring death and extinction.  It seemed there was no way out and then a miracle.  Suddenly, before them, the Red Sea opened up and there was only one way. Only one way out. Only one way to avoid death and extinction and that was through the Red Sea.

That paradigm, that visual image of only one way out of death and extinction is deeply woven into the theology of the Old Testament and New Testament. I still can clearly see a picture poster from a Bible Series that I used to teach of a high piece of land on the left, a deep chasm in the middle and a high piece of land on the right. The high piece of land on the left represented Earth; the high piece on the right represented Heaven; and then there was a bridge in the form of a cross that went from Earth to Heaven.  It was only on the cross of Christ that we moved from Earth to Eternity.  It was the only way. It is the only way.

The author Bill Bryson, tells of going to Hannibal, Missouri, to visit the boyhood home of Mark Twain. Mark Twain was one of his heroes. As he visited the home, he was disappointed. The home was supposed to be a faithful reproduction of the original, but it was easy to see that it was not. Far too many items from the 20th century were included in the home. In a sense it was false advertising. Mr. Bryson was further disappointed that he was not able to actually go inside the house. "You look through the windows," he says. "At each window there is a recorded message telling about each room." As he proceeded from window to window he asked another tourist, "What do you think of it?" The friendly stranger replied, "Oh, I think it's great. I come here whenever I'm in Hannibal two, three times a year. Sometimes I go out of my way to come here." Dumbfounded, Bryson replied, "Really?" "Yes," answered the tourist. "I must have been here twenty, thirty times by now. This is a real shrine, you know!"

As the two of them continued walking, Bryson asked his last question of the man. "Would you say the house is just like Twain described it in his books?" "I don't know," said the tourist. "I've never read one of his books."

Not really a true disciple was he?

Thomas did not want to be a casual follower, uncommitted to following Jesus. And Jesus wanted to reassure Thomas that his teachings were not false tokens of heaven.

Dawne Olson, a South Dakota mother of four, was preparing to give a talk on unity at her women's Bible study. She woke up early to type out the scripture verses. She wasn't quite finished when her four children began coming downstairs asking for breakfast. She could hear the children just around the corner in the kitchen as they rummaged through the refrigerator and cupboards for something to eat. At some point they discovered half of a toaster pastry on the counter from the night before. They all began screaming and fighting; each claiming the half-eaten Pop Tart.

As Dawne made a couple of futile attempts to quiet them down, she finished typing the verse in Matthew 5:9 that says, "Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God." Taking her cue from scripture, she hollered into the kitchen above the noise, "Would somebody PLEASE be the peacemaker?!"

There was a moment's silence and then Garret, age 6, piped up, "I'll be the piece maker, Mom!"

Then to his brother and sisters he said: "Here's a piece for you and you, and a piece for you and one piece for me."

Needless to say, Dawne had her opening illustration on unity and peace for that evening's Bible study!

Robert Drake is a Tennessean who writes stories about growing up in that part of the country a generation ago. He told a story about Miss Caroline Walker, who was a music teacher. She had been doing it for as long as anybody could remember. She was something of a legend in her county in Tennessee.

She had two goals in teaching. One was to teach her girls to be ladies. So she taught them manners as much as she taught them music. She also taught them to play one piece perfectly for the May recital. She rehearsed them and drilled them all year long to play that one piece perfectly, including instructions on how to sit on the piano bench, to spread your skirt as you sit down, and how to announce the song by standing straight and holding your hands together at your waist.

The night of the recital came. It was held in the high school auditorium. Ten pupils of Miss Caroline's were there waiting for their turn. Ann Louise's turn came. She was terrified. She thought she was going to faint. She knew she would never make it, but it was her turn, so she moved forward to the wings where Miss Caroline was waiting.

She could see how nervous Ann Louise was. Her body had become stiff and rigid. Miss Caroline put her hands on Ann Louise's shoulders, and bent down to whisper in her ear, "You have worked hard. You know this piece. You have nothing to fear. And remember, I am counting with you all the way."

With a little shove she pushed Ann Louise out onto the stage where, all of a sudden, she was facing this large audience of everybody's relatives, including her own. She announced her piece, then spread her skirt, and sat on the bench. She noticed that she was much calmer than she thought she would be. She noticed that Miss Caroline was still there in the wings. She remembered the last words that she said to her, "I am counting with you all the way." She didn't say, "I am counting on you." She said, "I am counting with you."

And Drake wrote this. "She felt that they were held together by something beyond either of them alone. Teacher and disciple were as one. She realized that it was this that she had been preparing for all year long, this test. And the music, at her command, came cascading out of the baby grand into the darken auditorium full of joy and full of life, right on cue."

I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you.

So let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

Dr. Leslie Weatherhead, a well know preacher many years ago, said that once, when he was a high school student, he had a very difficult examination.  But he had discovered that verse, "And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do..."

He believed that verse meant that all he had to do was ask and he would pass the exam. He told God he was believing God's promise, and he wanted a good grade.  The next day young Weatherhead took the examination, but when the grades were in, he had failed.  He was disillusioned.  He rebelled and almost lost his faith.  He came to the conclusion that the promises of the Bible were not good - all because God had not granted his wish for a good grade.

The next year he repeated that course.  He worked hard, and he passed.  This time he decided that he did not need God, that he could get along by himself.

After some years had passed, Dr Weatherhead came to understand that his own powers and abilities were in reality the power that God had given to him.  He began to realize that God had already given him the power to pass the examination, but he had not used that power the first go around.

Regret. It has powerful strength to trouble our hearts. Some of our most painful regrets are for opportunities lost. As John Greenleaf Whittier said:

Of all sad words of tongue or pen.
The saddest are these: It might have been!

How many people go under a dark cloud by thinking, even momentarily, of the person they almost married, the investment they almost made, the position they nearly won. But for every person who is filled with regret for an opportunity lost, there is another who regrets a deed done, a word spoken, a relationship consummated. These are the stories of decisions made, of tempers lost, of conversations that cannot be re-called. Here are deeds-sometimes sinful ones, but often only erratic or misguided ones - that have changed the course of a life and have left a person with a crushing burden. "I'd give anything," a man or woman says, absolutely anything, if I could take back that one day of my life." Regret. It can eat at your inward being like the most malevolent cancer, destroying by the inch and the hour.  And there is no surgeon's knife, no radium or chemical that can reach it.

Yet, regret can refine and improve character as only a skilled teacher can do. I venture that there are few great saints who have not possessed a high capacity for regret. Effective regret is the growing edge of godliness. But the key word is "effective!"

Saul of Tarsus knew something about regret. His regret was so strong that it surfaced in the midst of a wondrous recital about the resurrection of Christ. As he listed those who had seen the resurrected Christ, he continued, "last of all…he appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God."

Note: This illustration assumes that Jesus in John 14 is attempting to comfort the disciples for the opportunities they will soon squander by denying their relationship to Jesus.

Charles Schultz, the artist who provides us with the Peanuts cartoons, is one of my favorite theologians. That ought to tell you something about the kind of seminary president I am. In one of his cartoon series, he has Snoopy, that hound of heaven, saying of Woodstock, that would-be bird of paradise; "Someday, Woodstock is going to be a great eagle." Then in the next frame he says, "He is going to soar thousands of feet above the ground." Woodstock takes off into the air and as Snoopy looks on he sees the bird upside down whirling around crazily. So he has second thoughts. In the third frame Snoopy says, "Well, maybe hundreds of feet above the ground…" But hardly had the words gotten out of his mouth when Woodstock plummets to the ground and lies there, on his back looking dazed, and Snoopy has to conclude, "Maybe he will be one of those eagles who just walks around."

Isn't it amazing – how quickly we settle for less than is promised, and for far less than is possible?

This past week, I again read a quotation by Morris Niedenthal, who teaches and preaches at the University of Chicago. He says that Jesus accepted people just the way they were, but he never left people just the way they were because he loved them. Jesus always made them better. So often on Sunday morning, I say to a child at the communion rail as I bless them and trace the sign of the cross on their forehead, "Receive the sign of the cross upon your forehead so that you would know that you are baptized and that God loves you just the way you are." But Jesus never leaves that person just the way they are. Jesus always makes people better. Jesus never accepts people just the way we are and leaves us just the way we are and always makes us better. Or to put it another way, Jesus sees beneath the soil to the seeds of human possibility. Or, Jesus sees inside the seeds to the possibility of what we can become.

Do you remember the 60's song by Simon and Garfunkel song which had the line, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you. What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson? Joltin' Joe has left and gone away." Originally it was part of the soundtrack for the film The Graduate, the song "Mrs. Robinson" has became one of the 1960s' best-known, iconic ballads.

But in a 60 Minutes interview Paul Simon mentioned that some time after the song was released, he received a letter from Joe DiMaggio in which DiMaggio expressed his befuddlement at what in the world that song could mean. DiMaggio wrote, "What do you mean 'Where have I gone?' I haven't gone anywhere! I'm still around I'm selling Mr. Coffee." Then Mr. Simon smiled wryly at Mike Wallace and remarked, "Obviously Mr. DiMaggio is not accustomed to thinking of himself as a metaphor!"

But then, who is? Most, if not all, of us see ourselves as real people with literal, descriptive identities. For instance, I am a pastor, a husband, a father, a committee member, a volunteer, a son these are all straightforward descriptions of who I am in relation to the people around me in life. Like most people, I cannot readily conceive of myself as a symbol for something, as a kind of metaphor that represents something beyond myself.

Indeed, if someone came up to you at a party and said, "You are my shelter from the storms of life," well, you'd be taken aback. Then again, if you met someone who constantly spouted self-referential metaphors, you'd have to wonder about him or her. We expect people to denote themselves by saying things like, "I am a plumber" or "I'm a stay-at-home Dad." But our eyes would widen if someone said, "I am the oil that lubes my company's machine" or "I am the antibody that shields my family from the virus of secularism."

This is not a terribly typical mode of discourse. Yet Jesus, with some frequency, did refer to himself in a metaphorical mode, starting with John 6:35 when Jesus said, "I am the Bread of life."

There are seven "I Am" sayings in the gospel of John. I Am the true vine is the last of these sayings.

1. I am the bread of life - 6:35
2. I am the light of the world - 8:12 & 9:5
3. I am the gate for the sheep - 10:7,9
4. I am the good shepherd - 10:11,14
5. I am the resurrection and the life - 11:25
6. I am the way and the truth and the life - 14:6
7. I am the true vine - 15:1,5

Too many of us are, with regard to truth, as a young student was to an assignment made by her teacher. She was told to write a paper on the truth concerning the life and accomplishments of Benjamin Franklin. Here is what she submitted: "Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston, but he soon got tired of that and moved to Philadelphia. When he got to Philadelphia he was hungry so he bought a loaf of bread. He put the bread under his arm. He walked up the street. He passed a woman. The woman smiled at him. He married the woman and discovered electricity." Now all of that is probably true, but there's a lot more truth to Franklin's life than we find in those words.

So with Jesus. "Name Jesus anything you like. Remember Him in any way you want. Recall any of the parables He told. Quote word for word any statement He ever said. Put all these things together into some kind of historical record, and still you have nothing if you do not include this one truth" (Boulware, Ibid.): When Jesus becomes the way of being and doing for you; when He becomes the Truth -- how you perceive life, is forever shaped by his Spirit.

There was a man by the name of Soren Kierkegaard, a Danish philosopher back in the 19th century. The interesting thing is that his writings did not make a real impact on thought and religion until the 20th century. In some of his writings he talks about several different steps that we as human beings take in the religious quest. The first level he talks about is the aesthetic level. Now you do not have to worry about the technical name. Just trust me that the first level is called the aesthetic level. What he talks about is that in this level people dabble in life, trying to enjoy its pleasures. The key word of this level is pleasure-seeking. The second level of life is the ethical level. That is when people begin to take life seriously and the issues of life seriously and give themselves to seeking the good. The first level pleasure, the second level the good. The first level casual dabbling, the second level earnest living. The third level, he says, is divided into two and he calls them Religion One and Religion Two. Religion One has to do with seeking the truth, where we yearn, where we reach out to find this something extra we know is somehow a part of life. That is Religion One and the emphasis there is on truth. So you go pleasure, good, truth.

But he said there is another level that we must discover. This level is revealed in the scriptures. This level is Religion Two where the whole thing is turned around and the grace of God seeks us. The word here is trust. What we can do at this level is to respond in trust to the God who has already moved toward us. To let go and to let God. My younger son is trying to learn how to swim and he cannot understand how you can float on water. The interesting thing about floating is that it is an act of faith. That water will hold you up if you let go and trust it to do so. If you don't, you are going to sink. In fact, sometimes the more you thrash around the quicker you will sink. It is much the same with the faith in God at this second level that Kierkegaard is talking about. Not to work so hard in seeking pleasure or the good or truth but to let go and let the God who is seeking you find you and embrace you in his love.

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.

The call of our Lord is "hidden" in a whole chorus of worldly voices which beckon us. Other would-be shepherds seek to tempt us away from the Good Shepherd, the joy of his forgiveness and the security of his love. And when we are weak and confused we may fall victim to the enticements of other gods.

An American tourist traveling in the Mid East came upon several shepherds whose flocks had intermingled while drinking water from a brook. After an exchange of greetings, one of the shepherds turned toward the sheep and called out, "Manah. Manah. Manah." (Manah means "follow me" in Arabic.) Immediately his sheep separated themselves from the rest and followed him.

Then one of the two remaining shepherds called out, "Manah. Manah." and his sheep left the common flock to follow him. The traveler then said to the third shepherd, "I would like to try that. Let me put on your cloak and turban and see if I can get the rest of the sheep to follow me."

The shepherd smiled knowingly as the traveler wrapped himself in the cloak, put the turban on his head and called out, "Manah. Manah." The sheep did not respond to the stranger's voice. Not one of them moved toward him. "Will the sheep ever follow someone other than you?" The traveler asked.

"Oh yes," the shepherd replied, "sometimes a sheep gets sick, and then it will follow anyone."

We have seen it, haven't we? People, young and old, who are "sick." Battered by the storms of life and distracted by voices urging them to go this way and that, they have lost their bearings and they don't know where they are or where they are going. That can be more than a little frightening; it leads to despair, to hopelessness. And when someone is "sick" they will follow anyone who will promise a moment of happiness, a brief feeling of peace or forgetfulness, a sense that they are someone.

But the call of Jesus the Good Shepherd is, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." There is no better way, no greater truth, no happier life. Our Lord reaches out to us in love that we might follow him.

The famous American editor, Horace Greeley, told of receiving a letter from a woman who wrote: "Our church is in dire financial straits. We've tried everything to keep it going: a strawberry festival, an oyster supper, a donkey party, a turkey dinner, and, finally, a box social. Will you please tells us, Dr. Greeley, how to keep a struggling church from disbanding?" Dr. Greeley wrote back to her a message in two words: Try Christianity!

What did he mean by that? Look at it in this way. The ancient world failed to help men and women meet the problem of life, because, although their wise men could teach, they could not supply the power to put it into practice. The Old Testament prophets could explain the Law of Moses, but were unable to provide the power needed to fulfill it. Then, into the midst of the ages, came this man Jesus and, before the wondering eyes of men and women, he declared, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." These people saw truth coming alive in his amazing personality; and, when his enemies finally killed him, his great spirit was liberated to be wherever needy souls cried out for him. In all the ages since, for all those who have received him as the bread of life by committing their lives to him, he has brought power over their every weakness, victory over every failure, and conduct and character that have made the world a better place in which to live.

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."

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…

The way it happened in my mind is that he walked into this little restaurant in downtown Jericho, took a deep breath and hollered, "Repent!" Folks stopped eating mid-bite. It got so quiet you could hear the motor running in that tall machine over in the corner that kept slices of pie turning around behind the glass all day. Every eye in the place was on him, and that was what he was waiting for. He started talking, and shouting, and waving his arms, and every time someone would try to laugh at him and go back to their coconut cream pie, he would walk right over and slam a fist on their table, or just stand and stare at the pie eater until their appetite simply disappeared. All this without missing a beat of his sermon.

And what a sermon it was. He started out, "Some of you folks are from around here, aren't you? Born and raised right here? Well, that don't count for one blasted thing in God's book. Your ancestral tree might take you all the way back to Abraham himself, but as far as God is concerned, that won't pay for that cup of coffee you got sitting in front of you." He went on for quite some time, made his way from one table to the next, even the big round one in the back where the Pharisees sat at their weekly noon-time alliance meeting. People couldn't help but smile when he walked around that big round table and called them all a bunch of hissing old women who couldn't spell salvation if they had a dictionary in their hands.

Then he was done. He walked out of the door just as he had come in. Except on the way out he was not alone. Several from the restaurant walked out with him, and followed him straight to the river. From there on it was history. More and more people came, and more and more went back home to tell their friends they had better go, too. By the time they got there, the crowds were huge.

At one point in his baptizing, John looked up to see who was next in line, and when he did he froze in his tracks. There standing before him was Jesus. He recognized him immediately. This is where the story gets a bit hard for me to follow. Jesus steps up to be baptized like everyone else, but John shakes his head and says, "How can I baptize you? You ought to be baptizing me." They debate that fact for a bit and John finally gives in and baptizes him. Then, as Jesus gets out of the water, the sky opens up just like it had French doors, and this dove flies down and lands on him. Then, to confuse me even more, a voice comes out of that same door and says, "This is my Son, who I love; with him I am well pleased." And the story is over.

No doubt you have heard the story Footprints: One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to him, and the other belonging to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it. "Lord, You said that once I decided to follow You, You'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me." The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."

It's refreshing to be reminded God is with us at all times. I ran across an update which is called "A Variation on Footprints":

Now imagine you and the Lord Jesus walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily and consistently, rarely varying the pace. But your prints are disorganized, a stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures and returns. For much of the way, it seems to go like this.

But gradually, your footprints come more in line with the Lord's soon paralleling His consistently. You and Jesus are walking as true friends. This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens. Your footprints that were etched in the sand next to the Master's are now walking precisely in His steps. Inside His larger footprints is the small "sand-print," safely enclosed. You and Jesus are becoming one. This goes on for many miles.

But you notice another change. The footprint inside the larger footprint seems to grow larger. Eventually, it disappears altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one. Again, this goes on for a long time. But then something awful happens. The second set of footprints is back. And this time, it seems even worse. Zigzags all over the place. They stop. They start. Deep gashes in the sand. A veritable mess of prints. You're amazed and shocked. But this is the end of your dream. Now you speak: "Lord, I understand the first scene with the zigzags and fits and starts and so on. I was a new Christian, just learning. But you walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with you."

"That is correct."

"Yes, and when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps. I followed You very closely."

"Very good. You understand everything so far." "Then the smaller footprints grew and eventually filled in with Yours. I suppose that I was actually growing so much that I was becoming like You in every way."

"Precisely."

"But this is my question. Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints went back to two, and this time it was worse than the first." The Lord smiles, then laughs. He says, "You didn't know? That was when we danced!"

That's what happens when you're equipped.

Legend has it that during Marco Polo's celebrated trip to the Orient, he was taken before the great and fearsome ruler, Genghis Khan. Now what was Marco Polo, a Venetian merchant and adventurer, supposed to do before this mighty pagan conqueror? One false move could cost him his life. He decided to tell the story of Jesus as it is recorded in the gospels. It is said that when Marco Polo related the events of Holy Week, and described Jesus' betrayal, his trial, his scourging and crucifixion, Genghis Khan became more and more agitated, more engrossed in the story, and more tense. When Marco Polo pronounced the words, "Then Jesus bowed his head and yielded up his spirit," Genghis Khan could no longer contain himself. He interrupted, bellowing, "What did the Christian's God do then? Did he send thousands of angels from heaven to smite and destroy those who killed his Son?"

What did the Christian's God do then? He watched his beloved Son die, that's what the Christian's God did then. For that was the way Jesus chose to ascend the throne of his kingdom and to establish his Lordship for all time. Not at all the way we would expect God to demonstrate his might and power, but that's the way it was and that is how we know what our God is like.

Have you heard the beautiful children's story about the three trees? The trees were talking in the forest one day about their dreams for the future. The first tree said it would like to be made into a cradle, so that it might go on living as a support for the fragile life of a tiny new baby. The second tree wanted to be made into a big ship, so that it might go on living, carrying important cargo and influential people to exotic new lands. The third tree longed to stay right where it was, existing only as a tree, but growing ever taller, and pointing ever higher, to remind everyone that there is a God in heaven who loves them.  Those were their dreams:  One wanted to be a cradle, one wanted to be a mighty ship, and one wanted to be a tall tree, pointing people toward God.

But then one day the woodcutters came and chopped down the three trees...and destroyed their dreams.  The first tree was not made into a cradle, but into a simple feeding trough, a manger for animals.  But the manger was sold to a family in Bethlehem, and on the night Jesus was born, that simple feed box became the cradle for the Christ Child.

The second tree was built into a boat, but not the kind it had dreamed of--not a mighty ocean-going vessel--but a tiny inexpensive fishing boat. A man named Simon Peter bought the boat, and on one warm afternoon when the crowds pressed in, Jesus himself climbed aboard that small fishing boats that he might preach good news to the multitudes.

The third tree also was deprived of its dream.  It wanted to remain standing tall and pointing toward God.  Instead, it was cut down and shaped into a horrible instrument of torture, a cross.  But it was on that very cross that Jesus was crucified, transforming a symbol of cruelty into a powerful reminder of God's eternal love for all the people.

The three trees were humbled, but in the plan of God, they were exalted.

That's the way it works: When we, in humility, give ourselves to God, our Lord can do great things through us and for us greater than we can ever imagine.

You are because I am. I was there from the beginning. My Father, God, and I fashioned the world that you enjoy. We hung the stars in the sky, scooped out the lakes, formed the mountains. But our genius was no more evident than when we made you. You are so magnificent. Consider yourself - your ability to think and reason. Do you realize how special you are? We had such a great thing going in the garden.

Unfortunately, the devil talked your forebears into trying to be like God, and they both fell for it. My Father and I had no choice but to show them the exit from Eden. Because of their sin, we had to face the decision whether or not to save what we created or to destroy it all. Save it, we decided. Later, in response to a promise made to your father Abraham, I, the son of God, was implanted by the Holy Spirit in a young virgin’s womb. They called me Jesus, for I had come to save you and all humankind from the consequences of your sins.

The plan of salvation was not complicated, although it was generous perhaps to a fault. You had sinned and continue to sin. It is your nature from the time of the Fall. Therefore, you cannot save yourself. Although some of you sin less than others, none of you is perfect. My Father demands perfection - he will not stand for any imperfection in eternity. Fortunately for you, my Father is also compassionate, and his love goes beyond human love. He wanted to reclaim you as his own, therefore, he decided to be inflicted with suffering and death. To accomplish this, he sent me - part of himself - to become a person like you and to receive punishment and death in your place.

Some of you only see me as an Alka Seltzer for an occasional headache, rather than a Savior for a whole new life. You call upon me and my Father for help only when all else seems to fail. Voices we haven’t heard in years make their way heavenward in dying breaths. Others make a puzzle out of our plan for your salvation. You continue to believe that you must add some of your goodness and righteousness (which is really in short supply by heaven’s standards) to my sacrificial death on the cross. Friends, I paid the price - one hundred percent at Calvary.

Can you imagine how I feel as your God, having humbled myself by becoming a human being, giving up heaven for a stinking stable, being misunderstood, mocked, tortured, spit upon, and hung, all because of you and your wretched sinfulness ... and then to have you believe that this was not enough. To have you, in your pride, believe that some goodness of yours would need to be added in order for the Father to receive you into heaven angers and disappoints me. You can do nothing to save yourself; I did it all because I love you. Please get it into your head, once and for all, I am your only way out of the pits of hell. As I said while I was with you on earth, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me!" May the Holy Spirit convince your hearts of my love, and may you understand that believing in me is the only way to be saved; sufficient in itself, needing absolutely no human works, no false pride, no human righteousness, nothing ... nothing ... nothing at all to be added to it. I died to purchase a place for you in heaven which I offer to you as a gift which you must receive totally and exclusively by faith.

In an invocation prayer at the United States Senate, Peter Marshall said, "Lord Jesus, Thou who art the way, the truth, and the life, hear us as we pray for the truth that shall make men free. Teach us that liberty is not only to be loved but also to be lived. Liberty is too precious a thing to be buried in books. It costs too much to be hoarded. Make us to see that our liberty is not the right to do as we please, but the opportunity to please to do what is right."

It is unthinkable that a Christian would not vote! It is unthinkable that Christians would not run for public office! It is unthinkable that Christians would withdraw from the responsibility of taking part in public life. The Christian has a responsibility to Caesar for all the privileges which the rule of Caesar brings. We are citizens of this world and must be good ones, if we are Christ's disciples.

There was once a term frequently used in the church. In the old days it was used often. You rarely ever hear it today. Indeed, in all my years in the ministry I have never preached a sermon on the topic until now. Despite the infrequency with which it is mentioned, the concept, I think, is still valid. It is backsliding.

The term backsliding, I discovered in my research, was popularized in the 1600's by John Bunyan in his very famous allegory Pilgrim's Progress. In the story, you may recall, the character of Christian and Hopeful are on their religious pilgrimage. While on the journey they begin to discuss an individual by the name of Temporary. He had started the pilgrimage, but along the way he fell by the wayside, or, as Bunyan worded it, backslid. That term was picked up, particularly, but not exclusively by the Methodists in early America and became a stock phrase. It referred to those once faithful individuals who had lost interest in their Christian pilgrimage.

There are some denominations who do not affirm the concept. They say once saved always saved. Methodists have never affirmed that, because it implies that if a person becomes a Christian then he loses his free will to turn away. The individual who was free to choose the way of Christ, we insist, is still free to turn his back on it. Man can experience no level of grace that is beyond the possibility of falling.

Jesus had just finished one of his more obscure teachings. He said several things, which confused some and upset others. "I am the bread of life," he said. Some objected to this language because he was comparing himself to Moses who gave the children Manna, or bread, in the wilderness. Jesus then took it a step further and declared, "I am the bread that came down from heaven." This appeared odd to some because they knew he was the son of Mary and Joseph and not some modern day Elijah sent from heaven back down to earth. And then he just flat confused many because he suggested that everyone must eat his flesh and drink his blood otherwise they would die. It sounded too cannibalistic.

You can then understand why in verse 66 of chapter 6 (please don't read anything into that) we read that many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. Notice what is said, they turned back! They quit following. They became Temporary. I don't think a single reason can be identified as to why so many stopped following, a combination of issues probably, as we have already noted: His teaching confused some. His images offended others. But primarily, I think it was his claim to be the new source of life, his claim to be greater than Moses, a new Manna. Either way, they weren't buying it and they left. Just like that. One day they were disciples and the next they were not. They became backsliders.

1. Backsliding is a Reality
2. There are Many Reasons for Backsliding.
3. There are Consequences for Backsliding.

A Brief Biography: He was 25 and had already captured the hearts of Russia with his novel Poor Folk. Fame quickly went to his head. He drank immoderately and partied wildly. He carelessly criticized the Czarist regime. You don't that in Czarist Russia. He was arrested in St. Petersburg and sentenced to death by the firing squad along with several other dissidents. It was a cold December morning. Dressed in a white execution gown, he was led to the wall of the prison courtyard with the others. Blindfolded, he waited for the last sound he would hear, the crack of a pistol echoing off the prison walls. Instead he heard fast paced footsteps; then the announcement that the Czar had commuted his sentence to ten years of hard labor. So intense was that moment that he suffered an epileptic seizure, something he would live with the rest of his life.

In that Siberian prison Fyodor Dostoevsky was allowed only a New Testament to read. There he discovered something more wonderful, more true than his socialistic ideals. He met Christ, and his heart was changed. Upon leaving prison he wrote to a friend who had helped him grow in Christ, "To believe that there is nothing more beautiful, more profound, more sympathetic, more reasonable, more manly and more perfect than Christ. And not only is there nothing but I tell myself with jealous love that there can be nothing. Besides, if anyone proved to me that Christ was outside the truth and it really was so that the truth was outside Christ, then I would prefer to remain with Christ, than with the truth."

Dostoevsky returned to civilian life. He wrote feverishly and produced his prison memories, The House of the Dead, and then Crime and Punishment, followed by many other major works. Yet his church attendance was sporadic, and he never grew as a Christian. He neglected Bible study and the fellowship of other believers. No Christian took him under his wing to disciple him. He began to drink. He gambled. Excessive drinking and compulsive gambling unraveled his life so that he died penniless and wasted. He left prison with his flame lit for Christ and died with nothing more than smoldering embers. Now I don't want to minimize the hardships of Russian prisons, which were then beyond man's ability to endure, but the tragedy of Fyodor Dostoevsky is not so much what he became but what more he could have become for Christ. In the words of the poet, "of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: 'It might have been.'"

The great American humorist, Will Rogers, had the reputation that he could make anyone laugh. President Calvin Coolidge, on the other hand, had the reputation that he never laughed. Want to know what happened the time those two met? Rogers was invited to visit the White House and as was the custom, the president's assistant brought Rogers into the Oval Office. As he entered, the assistant said, "President Coolidge, this is Will Rogers. Mr. Rogers, this is President Coolidge." To which Rogers leaned forward and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't catch the name." With that, President Coolidge cracked up and started laughing.

Don't you wish you were as quick on your feet as he was? Quick with a comeback, quick with just the right thing to say. Well, of all the things that Jesus said, some of the most significant are the words in today's Gospel reading, when Jesus says, "I am the way and the truth and the life."

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

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

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

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

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

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

ALTERNATE ENDING

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

Joel Gregory became the pastor of First Baptist Church of Dallas, an impressive congregation with almost thirty thousand members. It was the crowning achievement of a preacher career. First Baptist Church occupies five city blocks in downtown Dallas. It houses two schools, a college, and a radio station. The church gave him a nice home, memberships in exclusive country clubs, and luxury box seats for Dallas Cowboys football games. They weren't box seats for the kingdom, but in Dallas a box seat for one is as good as a box seat for another.

But something went wrong in Gregory's pastorate. Church leaders wanted more members; thirty thousand weren't enough. People wanted the physical plant to grow; five city blocks wasn't big enough. Most of all, everyone expected Gregory to tag along behind his predecessor, W. A. Criswell, who had served that congregation for 46 years and who, despite his announcements to the contrary, showed no signs of retiring. "There wasn't room for both of us," Joel Gregory said. "The whole zoo of human ambition and power and ego is the fabric of some superchurches." A power struggle began, dividing the church into opposing sides. One day in September 1992, Gregory stunned many Southern Baptists by resigning from that prominent pulpit. There was also a divorce to throw into the mix. 

To support himself he traveled through Fort Worth neighborhoods as a door-to-door salesman selling funeral plans. A lot of people said he's a failure. Joel Gregory said otherwise. "For the first time in my life, at 46, I was learning what it means to be a servant," he says. "It gave me a different view of Christ, and a different view of the real needs of human beings."

A friend of his didn't give up on his calling. He set up Joel to preach at some black congregations. For some reason his preaching caught fire within African-American churches. Then he was back and professor of preaching at Baylor. It was a riches-to rags-to riches story, and all quite humbling.

Jesus said, "Are you able to drink my cup? Are you able to share my baptism? Are you able to walk with me, giving yourself to others in a life of service?" If we dare say yes, we must remember the road of discipleship is uphill all the way, and it leads to the foot of the cross. Whoever would follow Jesus must follow him there. He never promised anything else.

A Baptist news site summarizes his story this way:

A life in three acts:

Act 1 — Normalcy. The pace zips. The protagonist, a boy of modest means, grows up in Fort Worth, Texas. Like millions of Baptist children coming of age in the mid-20th century, his life perches upon three sturdy pillars — home, school and a full-service neighborhood church. Despite the lure of academia, church trumps school, and the boy sets out to become a preacher. He trains at the world’s largest Baptist institutions, studying at Baylor University, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and Baylor again. Along the way, he learns the ministerial ropes in small churches.

Act 2 — Glory and Cataclysm. Gregory accepts the pastorate of the “seminary church” in Fort Worth. Promoted by the school’s connected-and-charismatic president, millions discover The Voice, an inimitably grand oratorical presence. The still-young pastor preaches in magnificent venues. In just 13 years, he assumes Baptistdom’s most prominent pulpit. Only two years later, he resigns abruptly, later endures divorce and supports himself selling “pre-need funeral plans” door-to-door.

Act 3 — Redemption. Of all the saints in all creation, a prominent African-American pastor becomes Gregory’s best friend. He keeps insisting that Gregory can’t quit. He places Gregory in front of 900 black Baptist pastors. Before you can say, “Resurrection,” Gregory ascends pulpit after pulpit. He’s the most popular white preacher in African-American congregations nationwide. Other Baptists eventually catch the spirit, and by the end of the movie, Gregory returns to Baylor. Oxymoronically, the last great exemplar of 19th-century pulpit oratory invests his final years teaching 21st-century ministers to preach

See: https://baptistnews.com/article/the-rise-and-fall-and-rise-again-of-joel-gregory/#.X0SIa-hKguU

See: https://www.baylor.edu/truett/index.php?id=927921

Roland H. Bainton, a former professor of church history at Yale Divinity School, tells of a picture that illustrates something of my understanding of the Truth.  He tells of a mosaic of Christ in a church in Constantinople. When the Turks invaded the city they plastered over the picture of Christ on the wall so it could not be seen.  But centuries later the plaster has cracked, and one can see features of the face of Jesus Christ showing through the broken plaster (Best Sermons, Vol. 2, p. 42).  Isn't that the way we really see Jesus?  Isn't that the way we see the truth?

The Apostle Paul said it this way: "For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.  But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away… For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.  And now abides faith…  hope…  love… "

How denominations came into being:

The story concerns two blind men who had been healed by Jesus, who happened to meet one day, and they were so excited to meet someone else who had been healed. They talked about the wonder of sight, the color of flowers, the beauty of butterflies, the glory of sunrises, the faces of children and grandchildren.

They talked about the wonder of having seen the face of Jesus. They were laughing and having a great time together, when one of them said, "And do you remember how Jesus took that mud, spit on it, and put it into your eye?"

The other fellow looked kind of stunned, and answered, "Why no, he simply said, 'Receive your sight,' and I could see."

The first fellow said, "Wait a minute - now just wait a minute here. You mean he didn't use any mud?"

"No."

"Well, did he at least have you wash in the pool of Siloam?"

"No - of course not - who ever heard of anything so ridiculous as mud in your eye?!"

"Well," said the first man, "if he didn't put mud in your eyes and have you wash in the pool of Siloam, you are still blind! Blind - do your hear me?

Because that's the way Jesus healed me; that's the way he does it!"

Then the second man began to get angry. He shouted, "Mud, mud, mud! Who ever heard of using mud?! That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard! You still have mud in your eyes. You're the one who's still blind!"

They got into a big argument - their relationship was destroyed, and right then and there, they formed the first two denominations: the Mudites and the Antimudites!

Since then, of course, the church has been fighting and splitting over issues not a whole lot more significant than that!

In the GardinerMuseum in Boston there is a painting by Rembrandt entitled "The Storm on the Sea of Galilee." It is Rembrandt's interpretation of this scene. It shows panic etched on the faces of the disciples, as their small vessel is being raised up on a high wave, about to be crashed down. Two of the disciples are attempting to rouse Jesus who is asleep in the stern of the boat. But if you look more closely, you will discover that there is something that is not quite right. There are too many people in the picture. So you count them. There are fourteen. There should only be thirteen (twelve disciples and Jesus). But instead there are fourteen. It is then that you notice that one of the men in the boat is Rembrandt. He has painted himself into the picture. He has placed himself in the same boat.

Which is precisely what we should do. It is the way that we are supposed to interpret this passage. We are in the boat with Jesus, faithful but frightened. There is no immunity for any of us. We are caught up in the same fix. I suspect most of us would rather be numbered with the exceptions. Either we would like to believe that storms will never strike us or that faith will never fail us.

But storms will strike us ... because that's the way life is.

On his sixteenth birthday the son approached his father and asked, "Dad, I'm sixteen now. When I get my license can I drive the family car?"

His dad looked at him and said, "Son, driving the car takes maturity, and first, you must prove you are responsible enough. And one way you must do that is to bring up your grades. They are not acceptable. Secondly, you must read the Bible every day. And finally, I want you to get that haircut—it looks outrageous."

The son began the task of fulfilling his father's requirements, knowing that the last might be impossible. When his grades came out he came to his dad with a big smile. "Look, Dad, all A's and B's on my report card. Now can I drive the family car?"

"Very good, Son. You are one-third the way there, but have you been reading the Bible?" the father asked.

"Yes, Dad, everyday," said the son.

"Very good, Son. You are two-thirds of the way there. Now when are you going to get that hair cut?"

The son, thinking he could outsmart his dad, responded, "Well, I don't see why I should get my hair cut to drive the car. Jesus had long hair, didn't he?" The father looked at his boy and said, "That's right, Son, and Jesus walked everywhere he went."

Bill Wilson pastors an inner city church in New York City. His mission field is a very violent place. He himself has been stabbed twice as he ministered to the people of the community surrounding the church. Once a Puerto Rican woman became involved in the church and was led to Christ. After her conversion she came to Pastor Wilson and said, "I want to do something to help with the church's ministry." He asked her what her talents were and she could think of nothing---she couldn't even speak English---but she did love children. So he put her on one of the church's buses that went into neighborhoods and transported kids to church. Every week she performed her duties. She would find the worst-looking kid on the bus, put him on her lap and whisper over and over the only words she had learned in English: "I love you. Jesus loves you."

After several months, she became attached to one little boy in particular. The boy didn't speak. He came to Sunday School every week with his sister and sat on the woman's lap, but he never made a sound. Each week she would tell him all the way to Sunday School and all the way home, "I love you and Jesus loves you."

One day, to her amazement, the little boy turned around and stammered, "I---I---I love you too!" Then he put his arms around her and gave her a big hug. That was 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon. At 6:30 that night he was found dead. His own mother had beaten him to death and thrown his body in the trash. "I love you and Jesus loves you." Those were some of the last words this little boy heard in his short life---from the lips of a Puerto Rican woman who could barely speak English. This woman gave her one talent to God and because of that a little boy who never heard the word "love" in his own home, experienced and responded to the love of Christ.

What can you give? What is your "colt"? You and I each have something in our lives, which, if given back to God, could, like the colt, move Jesus and His message further down the road.

One of the early church fathers, a man named Origen, suggested that when Jesus said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan," what he actually meant was, "Peter, your place is behind me, not in front of me. It's your job to follow me in the way I choose, not to try to lead me in the way YOU would like me to go." Certainly what Jesus said immediately after his rebuke of Peter would support that interpretation. He told all of his disciples, including Peter, that not only did HE have a task that was set before him by God, but that THEY also had work to do. "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me," Jesus said. "Get on this new thrill ride with me. There will be many dangerous twists and turns in the tracks, but I promise you it will never be dull. It will mean putting someone other than yourself first, being concerned not so much with what YOU want, but what God wants for you. It won't be easy and sometimes it won't be much fun, but it will never be boring."

His name was John. People knew him locally as the Baptist. Some would say of him that he was a religious eccentric. Others less kind would dismiss him as being simply a flake. He definitely did not seem to be the kind of "How to win friends and influence people" type of personality to usher in the news of the Messiah's coming. He just somehow doesn't seem to fit in with shepherds and wise men and the other characters that we traditionally associate with the Christmas story. Yet, this was God's unlikely servant chosen to herald the spectacular events that would soon follow. A most unlikely promotions man to be sure, but God's man nevertheless.

From the very beginning everything about John was unique. His mother Elizabeth was related to Mary, the mother of Jesus. Elizabeth conceived six months before Mary. But Mary happened to be a very young girl, indeed almost a child. Most scholars put her probable age at thirteen. It was not unusual for a girl in that day and time to be of childbearing age at such a tender age. Indeed, it is not unheard of even in cotemporary America.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was a woman who was in the golden years of her life. She had never given birth to a child. You would think of her more in the category of great grandmother than mother. Yet, she and her aging priest of a husband were the unlikely candidates. It's not out of the question today with recent advances in medicine, but beg the grandmother's here today, don't take this as a word from the Lord!

And then there was John himself. Being the same age as Jesus they grow up together, played together, yet as they reached adulthood they were different in so many ways. When John began his ministry he lived in the desert solitude of Judea, a rugged desert wilderness. He fed on honey and wild locust and dressed in garments of camel hair. He constantly brooded over the scriptures, especially the prophetic ministry of Elijah, after whom he modeled his own ministry.

Nor was John a respecter of persons or rank. He had an intimidating personality. For that reason the upper class folk rejected both he and his message. You can read about that in Luke 7:29.

Yet, John gathered a respectable following. He attracted many hearers among the lower class, many of whom received baptism by his hands. John even drew a group of disciples around him, which is significant for two reasons. First, some of these disciples later became disciples of our Lord. Secondly, a number of people began to think of John himself as being the long expected Messiah. For that reason John's gospel felt obliged to specifically point out "There was a man sent from God whose name was John, He came for testimony to bear witness to the light that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but he came to bear witness to the light.

What drew people to John and his message? Well, John was far-fetched. His austere life style was a compelling reason to listen to him and perhaps his strange ways convinced some people to follow him. I think many thought he was Elijah the prophet who returned. But there was more to John than simply a bizarre strange life. John understood that God was about to do something that would shake the foundations of the earth and he needed to prepare the way for that event. He did this in basically three ways.

1.  John lived a godly life.
2.  John challenged the people's sins.
3.  John pointed the way to Christ.

Dante's Inscription above the Gate of Hell:

I am the way into the city of woe.
I am the way to a forsaken people.
I am the way to eternal sorrow.

Sacred justice moved my architect.
I was raised here by divine omnipotence,
Primordial love and ultimate intelligence.

Only those elements time cannot wear
Were made before me, and beyond time I stand.
Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

Note: "Sacred justice moved my architect." means: He who built me was motivated by a love of justice.

In Steven Covey's best seller "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People," he talks about losing site of our main goals in life. In no other place are the consequences more destructive than in our families: Covey writes:

"I value my children. I love them, I want to help them. I value my role as their father. But I don't always see those values. I get caught up in the "thick of thin things."  What matters most gets buried under layers of pressing problems, immediate concerns, and outward behaviors. I become reactive.  And the way I interact with my children every day often bears little resemblance to the way I deeply feel about them."

For us Fathers...to truly be known by our children would be wonderful. I suspect that this is so much more difficult for men than women. And yet here in Jesus' prayer it is his first thought, that we might know the Father and the Son. This, he says, is salvation. You want to know what being saved means, what the meaning of life is? It is written here in Jesus prayer: If you will come to know God, the only true God, and the Son whom he has sent, you will be saved.

You might say this is difficult for me to do--to know God. Yes it is. It is difficult for you to do. But it is not difficult for God to make himself known to you.

Matthew 25:27 - "Then you ought to have invested my money with bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest."

Certainly, I don’t have to acquaint you with the bankers or with their duties or with their very important place in our society and economy. We all know our friendly neighborhood banker, and we have probably had to rely on him more than once to get us through a tight financial bind. Of course, for the privilege of using some of the bank’s money temporarily, we pay a fee. But that’s only to be expected - it’s good business. Nobody puts out something for nothing, right?

Well, that’s the way it is now, but that’s not the way it was in Old Testament times. Jews were forbidden to lend money on interest to other Jews. And, since in early times there was no commerce to speak of in which the Jews engaged, they had no need of bankers. In fact, the profession of banker as such doesn’t seem to have been in existence before the Hellenistic period.

By New Testament times, however, some of these restrictions had been lifted. Loaning money on interest to help people engage in business was not condemned, and banks and bankers were part of the common sense. Even Jesus spoke of them, in the parable from which we have taken our text.

But even there, the concept was not the same as ours is today. We walk into large buildings that somehow seem to convey a sense of power; they are usually majestic, marble-invested shrines to commerce. The bankers themselves are dignified, old-school-tie men, who give the impression of fatherly concern for your troubles.

It wasn’t quite that way in Jesus’ time. The word "banker" comes from a Greek word which means money-changer, and we know what Jesus thought about them! And the word "bank" itself comes from another Greek word which means counter or table, over which money matters were transacted. Rather a different picture, don’t you think?

I’m afraid that we have to admit that the old ways were best, in this case - when Jews were allowed to charge interest on loans, the whole thing blew up right out of control!

There's a woman who received eyes to see. A few years ago, with the help of Presbyterian mission money, she helped to establish a halfway house for women who are recovering drug addicts. She schedules twelve-step groups, arranges for child care, and generally tries to get the women back on their feet. In a lot of ways, you would never expect her to be involved with such work. She is even-tempered, gentle, and articulate. But something happened a few years ago that caused her to see anew.

She was a graduate school student in Pittsburgh, looking for a part-time job. A newspaper listed an administrative position with a soup kitchen. That looked interesting, so she clipped it and prepared for the interview. On the day of her interview, she put on a dark blue business suit, put together a manila folder full of resumes and references, and clipped back her hair.

Arriving a few minutes before noon, she saw the sign: "East End Cooperative Ministry." She knocked on the door. Someone inside said, "It's unlocked." She went in, only to find a long line of people in front of her. Disappointment washed over her. Then she realized it was lunch time. The people in the line weren't there for the same interview, they were waiting for soup.

She grew nervous as she looked at the people in line. Some of them, in turn, looked at her. She felt self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Apparently others began to sense her anxiety. A woman in a moth-eaten sweater smiled and tried to make conversation. "Is this your first time here?"

"Yes, it is."

"Don't worry," said the lady in the sweater, "it gets easier."

"The scales fell from my eyes that day," reflected the young woman. "I went there looking for a job, and that woman thought I was there for soup. As far as she knew, the world had been as cruel to me as it was to her. But in the kindest way she could, she welcomed me as a fellow human being. She saw me as someone equally in need, which I was and still am. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the day when God began to convert me."

Looking around the halfway house, she smiled and said, "You see all of these wonderful things God is doing here? They began when God gave us eyes to see where Jesus was leading us."

"What do you want?" asked Jesus. A church could ask for more prestige, a greater impact, and a sense of power, but I would like our church to answer Jesus' question, "What do you want?" with this: "We want eyes to see. To see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly" ... all the way to the cross. 

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.

Have you ever tried to make a prediction? Here are some predictions from the past. All from people who were trusted individuals:

"We don't like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out." Decca Recording Co. rejecting the Beatles, 1962.

Popular Mechanics magazine in 1949 made this prediction: "Where a calculator on the ENIAC is equipped with 18,000 vacuum tubes and weighs 30 tons, computers in the future may have only 1,000 vacuum tubes and weigh only 1.5 tons."

There was an inventor by the name of Lee DeForest. He claimed that "While theoretically and technically television may be feasible, commercially and financially it is an impossibility."

The Decca Recording Co. made a big mistake when they made this prediction: "We don't like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out." That was their prediction in 1962 concerning a few lads form Liverpool. Their band was called the Beatles.

As the disciples walked out of the Temple in Jerusalem Jesus paused, looked back at the Temple and predicted, "Do you see all these great buildings. Not one stone will be left on another." To the disciples this was bedrock. Nothing could bring down these walls. "Look, teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!" they said to Jesus.

The smallest stones in the structure weighed 2 to 3 tons. Many of them weighed 50 tons. The largest existing stone, part of the Wailing Wall, is 12 meters in length and 3 meters high, and it weighs hundreds of tons! The stones were so immense that neither mortar nor any other binding material was used between the stones. Their stability was attained by the great weight of the stones. The walls towered over Jerusalem, over 400 feet in one area. Inside the four walls was 45 acres of bedrock mountain shaved flat and during Jesus' day a quarter of a million people could fit comfortably within the structure. No sports structure in America today comes close.

You can then understand the disciples' surprise. As they walked down the Kidron Valley and up Mount Olive Peter, James, and John wanted to hear more. Jesus' prediction that a structure so immense would be leveled to the ground seemed implausible. But they pressed Jesus for more information. They wanted to know when. What would be the sign that this was about to take place? In their voice was fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that their lives were about to change forever. Jesus had not made any predictions like this one. This was different. This, they could understand.

Forty years later Jesus' prediction came true. In 70 AD the Temple was destroyed by Rome. What are we to learn from this prediction and its fulfillment?

1. The bedrock of faith is not in Temples.
2. The bedrock of faith is not in Signs.
3. The bedrock of faith is in Christ.

There is a special hospital in London for those whom other hospitals consider a lost cause. It is a hospital for those who are diagnosed as "terminal."

Most people would consider such a hospital to be a very sad place, but it is not. Actually, it is a hospital filled with hope and a lot of life. The emphasis in this London hospital is on life and not on death. The truth is that several of the patients have seen remissions in the disease process instead of death. A great deal of the credit is given to the way the facility is run.

The basic philosophy is different from most other hospitals. In this program the patients are expected to give themselves away in service to the other patients. Each patient is given another patient for whom to care. So, for example, a person who is unable to walk might be given the task of reading to another who is blind. The blind person would then push the wheelchair of the one who could not walk but who gives directions on where to push the chair.

Is this not the new commandment to which Jesus referred? He calls us to be disciples who love one another. We are the ones who are healed and strengthened when we learn how to give and how to love.

Adapted by Bruce Larson, Passionate People (Dallas: Word Publishers), p. 203.