One of my favorite stories is The Emperor's New Clothes. It is the tale about an Emperor who was swindled by a supposed tailor. The man claims to sew a new, special suit for the Emperor. It is special because only those who are wise will see the clothes, while those who are foolish will find them invisible. Not wanting to be labeled a fool, the Emperor pretends he can see the suit, pretends to put it on, and then proceeds to walk around the castle in his underwear. Not wanting to be considered fools, all his advisors and servants pretend to be able to see the clothes as well and comment on how beautiful they are. As the Emperor leads a parade through the city, his loyal subjects "ah" and "oh" over clothing they cannot see. Everyone is lying, because they are afraid to tell the truth. If they admit they see the Emperor in his underwear, they will certainly be ridiculed by all their neighbors. But, finally, one young boy exposes the deception. He blurts out that the Emperor is not wearing any clothes and his words encourage others to speak the truth as well.

Judges 21:23 - "And the Benjamites did so, and took their wives according to their number, from the dancers whom they carried off; then they went and returned to their inheritance, and rebuilt the towns, and dwelt in them."

Psalm 87:7 - "Singers and dancers alike will say, ‘All my springs are in you.’ "

Dancing has formed a part of religious rites and has been associated with war and hunting, with marriage, birth, and other occasions, since the recorded history of man. It grew out of three basic human reactions: 1. the desire to imitate the movements of beasts, birds, even the sun and moon; 2. the desire to express emotions by gestures; 3. gregarious impulses.

Throughout past ages dancing has been associated with worship. Closely related to religious praises was the sacramental dance in which worshipers sought to express through bodily movements praise or penitence, worship or prayer. Out of the primitive dances the esthetic dance of civilized ancient nations slowly developed. In these the primary concern of the dancers was to reveal grace, speed, and rhythm, often to appeal to the carnal nature of both participants and spectators. Vashti refused to expose herself because of this (Esther 1:12).

The Hebrews developed their own type of dancing, associated with worship. Basically, it was like modern religious shouting by individuals, or processions of exuberant groups. Three things characterized it: 1. sexes never intermingled in it, except where pagan influences had crept in; 2. usually dancing was done by women, with one leading, as in the case of Miriam; 3. dancing usually took place out of doors.

Hebrew contains six verbs to describe the actions of dance:

1. sahok - usually translated as sporting or playing and conveys the expression of joy in dancing.
2. rakod - original meaning was "to leap like a lamb"
3. karkar - suggests a round dance and may refer to turning on the heel in one sport
4. hol - to writhe or to turn
5. pesah - refers to a limping dance
6. hag - means "holiday," possibly from the word hug meaning "circle" or "dancing in a circle"

For ages, dancing has been accompanied by clapping of the hands, and percussion and other noise-making instruments seem to be native to it. In some cases, antiphonal singing accompanied the dancing. The Romans introduced the Greek dance to Palestine. At first the Primitive Christian churches allowed the dance, but it soon caused degeneracy, and was forbidden.

Today we have dancers of just about every tradition, and many churches are using the dance as re-interpretations of the biblical message. Also, considering the athletic nature of many of the dances, it is not at all off base to say that the modern gymnast can also be considered as a counterpart of the ancient dancer. Certainly the fluidity of movement and the grace inherent in gymnastics would allow this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the television show M*A*S*H, Dr. Charles Emerson Winchester III made it clear what separated him from everybody else. "I'm a Winchester," he was heard to say more than once. For him, it was his family name that made him superior to everyone else. Other people carry other burdens. One woman received her education at Harvard and found a way to work Harvard into every conversation. Congregations fall victim to the same problem. Churches become satisfied with their pasts to the point that they do not make the changes necessary to live in the present with the same degree of faithfulness shown in prior years. It's one thing to be proud of certain things, but it is possible to lean too heavily on a good past and live too scantily in the precious present.

That's what John the Baptist was dealing with in this lesson. In scripture's continuing assault on the religious people of the day, John the Baptist was completely unimpressed with the very thing that the Jewish people had built their lives upon. They were the "children of Abraham." That was their birthright and, they felt, it would never be taken from them.

Then comes John the Baptist. He tells them that just because they are children of Abraham doesn't mean that the requirements have been eased or that they can slack off. We hate to hear John the Baptist say that because we know how it translates to our situation. We can hear him now. "Just because you are members of the church, just because you give your weekly offerings, just because your great-grandparents were in this church, just because you are an officer, just because you are the minister, doesn't mean it is time to relax and take it easy and give in to this temptation of thinking this matter of being Christian is under control." In other words, don't presume your past has taken care of your present.

Can you imagine complete silence? It's hard to in our culture today in which televisions, radios, etc. are constantly blaring. But in this morning's text a silence of 400 years is broken. Don't misunderstand, not everyone was silent during this period. Women and men were talking.. Boys and girls were talking. But there was no prophet speaking the Word of the LORD. No one was truthfully saying, "Thus says the LORD…"

In reality two silences are broken in this morning's text. For one, the 400 year period without a Word from God and for another, a gap of approximately 30 years in the life of Jesus. Matthew skips directly from his birth and infancy narrative to an event that occurs approximately 30 years later: the ministry of John the Baptist. Both of these silences are broken by the sound of a voice.

The voice which breaks the silence is the voice of John the Baptist, who may rightly be called the last of the Old Testament Prophets. He is functioning as a Herald by announcing the coming of the King. In the ancient world, a herald was one who went ahead of a king's chariot to prepare the road. He would command a crew which would smooth out the usually rough roads of that day by filling potholes and removing boulders. The herald would also go before the king shouting, "Make way, the King is coming!" One commentator noted that such "efforts to make a road level and smooth were restricted to times when royalty was on its way" (Robert Mounce, Matthew NIBC, 23).

This was the function of John the Baptist.

Indifference -- is anything more painful and destructive?

In his book The Surrender and the Singing, Ray Ashford wrote, “I once watched a man murder a beautiful and intelligent woman.  It wasn’t, mind you, a crime of passion in which he took her life with a knife or gun in a single explosive moment of blinding rage.  It was, rather, a crime absolutely devoid of passion, a murder within the law and over a long period of time, four-and-a-half decades.  It was murder by indifference and neglect.”

What a stinging word -- murder by indifference and neglect.  Have you seen it?  I have.  And I have been guilty of it -- not murder, but the smashing of a dream, the choking of an idea, the crushing of enthusiasm, the putting down of a person that made them less than alive and whole -- by my inattention, my failure to listen, by unwillingness to give time, my neglect of caring enough to affirm and encourage.  What about you?  Are you guilty of neglect and indifference?

1 Samuel 9:9 - "Formerly in Israel, when a man went to inquire of God, he said, ‘Come let us go to the seer’; for he who is now called a prophet was formerly called a seer."

It is presumed (especially when reading our text), that the office of the seer antedated the office of prophet in Israel, although the functions of each were the same. Our text is probably a gloss on the original text, added at a later date by someone who realized that Samuel was not a member of a roving band of ecstatics, such as the early prophets (see PROPHET), but that he was a solitary man in close communication with God, who spoke the messages of God.

The office of the prophet, as we generally think of it, did not clearly emerge until the tenth century B.C. at the earliest, but it is obvious that there were, at all times, men who were tuned in on God’s wave length, if we may say so, and who were commissioned to present God’s messages to the people. It is quite possible that the office of seer was lifted from the Canaanites, and then made into a distinctively Israelite profession through a process of refinement.

We do have specific instances of the non-Hebrew seer, who was actually a messenger of Yahweh, the God of the Hebrews. For example, in Numbers 22 to 24, we have the story of Balaam, a seer who was employed by the king of Moab at the time of the Israelites’ wanderings, but who actually became a spokesman for God.

However, there is one thing that we must remember - the earlier the time with which we are dealing, the more primitive the concepts, so it should be no surprise to us that the seers were often dabblers in fortune-telling and became involved with the baser forms of divination, such as wizardry, necromancy, and such practices which has been expressly forbidden. But there is a mysterious fascination about things, and the temptation was great. So we find that there were degenerate seers also in Israel.

I suppose that if we wish to make a more specific differentiation between seer and prophet, we might be justified in saying that the seer made his powers his profession and livelihood, and his functioning was habitually passive: he waited to be consulted. The great prophets, on the other hand, were men of all walks of life who were literally "plucked out of their ways of life" by God, and were driven to deliver God’s messages to his people.

Today I don’t suppose we have a profession or calling that parallels that of the seer, although we might not be too far off base if we compare him to the modern-day fortune-teller, who makes his living off the credibility of others, and who, in more cases than not, will predict what he knows the client wants to hear, rather than jeopardize that living.

The highly esteemed theologian Karl Barth had a painting of the crucifixion on the wall of his study that was painted by the artist Matthias Grunewald. In the painting there is an image of John the Baptist. The artist portrayed John the Baptist pointing his finger to the cross of Jesus in the center of the painting. It's said that when Barth would talk with a visitor about his work, he would direct them to John the Baptist in the painting, and he would say, “I want to be that finger." Barth wanted to point people to Christ.

All four gospels talk about John the Baptist and his fiery message of repentance. Two of the four gospels do not mention Jesus' birth at all. But Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John all recognized that no gospel would be complete without John the Baptist. A gospel may skip Christmas but it may not skip John. Why? Because as Zechariah knew already when John was just eight days old, John was going to be the necessary advance man to get the world ready to receive Jesus. If Jesus was the one who would plant the mustard seed of the kingdom into the soil of this world, then John was to be the one who did the hard work of plowing the soil to get ready for that planting. John would be the one who would sink down his plow blade into human hearts that were the spiritual equivalent of a parched field whose dirt had long ago hardened into something resembling concrete.

If Jesus was God's divine Visitor to this world, then John was the one who was sent to prepare the way. Because God knew and John the Baptist knew: how the visit of God's Son would be received would very much depend on people's situation. If they were eager to hear the good news that God's tender mercies were available to forgive their sins, then they'd be glad to hear just that message from the lips of Jesus. But if people didn't think they had a problem with sin, then the visit of God's Son would be merely annoying and a waste of their time. John worked overtime to ensure that no one had that reaction.

"Shunem: Site of the Prophet Elisha's Resurrection Miracle." If they had had road signs in the days of old this might have been the sign that welcomed you to Shunem. All the people of Shunem and all the people in the cities around Shunem surely knew of Elisha's miraculous feat. This was an area known for its prophets!

Elisha's prophetic forerunner, Elijah, was the first prophet to raise a young man to life. It happened in Zarephath (1 Kings 17:8-24). Perhaps it is not surprising that Elisha also raised a young man to life. We are told, after all, that Elisha inherited a double share of Elijah's spirit!

In a story told in 2 Kings 4 we hear that Elijah came to Shunem one day and had a bite to eat at the home of a wealthy woman. Since there were no fast food restaurants in Elisha's day, he stopped quite often at the house of the Shunammite woman to get something to eat. The woman sensed that Elisha was a holy one of God. So she persuaded her husband to fix up a permanent guest room for Elisha. She invited Elisha to stop and stay with them whenever he passed through Shunem. And he did. Free room and board is a pretty good deal, after all!

Now Elisha was an honorable man. He thought he should really give this woman some kind of gift. He told his servant Gehazi to ask the Shunammite woman what gift he might give to her. Gehazi went. He discovered that the woman was quite content with what she had. She asked for nothing. "But there must be something we can give this woman," Elisha insisted to Gehazi. Then Gehazi had a wonderful idea. "This woman has no child and her husband is old," he said to Elisha. Elisha got the point. He announced to the woman of Shunem that, "At this season, when the time comes round, you shall embrace a son" (2 Kings 4:16). And it came to pass just as Elisha had promised. One day years later, the son of the woman of Shunem went out among the reapers to be with his father. Suddenly he began to complain bitterly. "Oh, my head, my head!" he shrieked.

"Carry the lad to his mother," the father ordered. The reapers did so. The boy lay on his mother's lap until noon, and then he died. The Shunammite woman carried her son straightway to Elisha's guest room and laid him on Elisha's very own bed. She then set out to Mt. Carmel determined to find Elisha. When she found the prophet she fell before him and took hold of his feet. "Did I ask my Lord for a son?" she pleaded. "Did I not say, 'Do not mislead me'?" (2 Kings 4:28).

Elisha got the point. He returned to Shunem, went to his room where the dead boy lay, shut the door and began to pray. Elisha then stretched himself upon the boy and breathed his breath into him. Soon the child sneezed seven times and then opened his eyes. "Take your son," Elisha said to the woman of Shunem.

"Shunem: Site of the Prophet Elisha's Resurrection Miracle." Thus a sign at the city gate might have read. The city of Nain was just a stone's throw down the road from Shunem. The citizens of Nain undoubtedly basked in Shunem's glory. They, too, believed themselves to live in a land where prophets do miracles."

Winston Churchill was once asked what his most awesome thought was.  One would think that he would respond in terms of world politics, or at least British politics.  But he said that his most awesome thought was that someday he would have to account to God for his life.

It might take a question like that, and someone to call us to deep reflection about our life, to cause us to think beyond our involvements today:  beyond that challenge that we face, beyond the fun that we’re having, beyond the money that we’re making.  It may not be a popular thought or even a thought that we’ve ever considered, but all of life says it’s going to be so.  Someday we’re going to have to account to God for who we are and what we’ve done.

That’s not something to be fearful of, but something to challenge us.

Once a spider built a beautiful web in an old house. He kept it clean and shiny so that flies would patronize it. The minute he got a "customer," he would clean up on him, so the other flies would not get suspicious. Then one day this fairly intelligent fly came buzzing by the clean spider web. Old man spider called out, "Come in and sit." But the fairly intelligent fly said, "No, sir. I don't see other flies in your house, and I am not going in alone!"

But presently he saw on the floor below a large crowd of flies dancing around on a piece of brown paper. He was delighted! He was not afraid if lots of flies were doing it. So he came in for a landing. Just before he landed, a bee zoomed by, saying, "Don't land there, stupid! That's flypaper!" But the fairly intelligent fly shouted back, "Don't be silly. Those flies are dancing. There's a big crowd there. Everybody's doing it. That many flies can't be wrong!"

Well, you know what happened. He died on the spot. Some of us want to be with the crowd so badly that we end up in a mess. What does it profit a fly (or a person) if he escapes the web only to end up in the glue?

Only the back-story here provides a glimmer of something positive to say about how it all came about.  According to a very helpful article by Craig Keener in The Lectionary Commentary (Eerdmans, 2001), John the Baptist was probably the only figure who had the courage (and the holy pluck) to stand up to Herod Antipas.   This is not the Herod who was around when Jesus was born nor is this the Book of Acts Herod who later persecuted the church and killed, among others, James.   But what this middle Herod shared in common with those other two was a real nasty streak of immorality, self-aggrandizement, and corruption.

He had been married originally to a Nabataean princess whom he later dumped in favor of marrying his brother's wife, Herodias.  You know the old saying, the heart wants what it wants, and Herod's heart wanted Herodias. So even though it made him guilty of multiple sins (adultery and incest among them) and even though it angered the king of the Nabataeans (to whom Herod's first wife fled in humiliation after Herod took up with his sister-in-law Herodias)—and even though this later led to a military conflict with the Nabataeans in which Herod was roundly defeated and embarrassed—nevertheless Herod married Herodias, and no one save John the Baptist had the moral fortitude to point out how wrong it was.

Had John just stuck to baptisms and some harsh pronouncements about the Pharisees and such, he would have been OK.  But John landed in prison because he had the temerity to question the morality of Herod the Tetrarch (he never was actually designated a king and when he petitioned Rome for the title, Caesar Gaius Caligula banished Herod and Herodias to Gaul for the rest of their lives). As has too often been the case in history, the powers that be are content to regard religion as a kind of hobby that seems to satisfy certain needs people have. And so long as it stays in the realm of "hobby," religion and the people who practice it are left alone. But when the religious start to stray out of that designated realm, that's when things get ugly fast.

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

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

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

When we attempt to live a life worthy of the Gospel it is because our understanding of "worth" is far different from the world's. John the Baptist was not beheaded because he went along with the status quo. John gave his life because of his commitment to truth as he understood it, much like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his struggles with Nazism and Hitler. Being a pastor in the German Lutheran Church, Bonhoeffer was forced to choose between his loyalty to God or to an insane ruler. He was executed in 1945 for the opposition he voiced to the satanic rule of Hitler. 

As G.K. Chesterton so concisely wrote: "It is not that Christianity has been tried and found wanting, but tried and found difficult." Life has many roads to travel. However, we choose the road on which the shadow of the cross falls. It always leads to freedom and to victory when the final lap of the race is run. Some 2000 years later, we speak of the reigns of the Herods and Caesars with pity and disdain, but the names of John the Baptist and Jesus Christ live on as those for whom life was lived with devotion and courage.

Jesus and his disciples ventured into the District of Caesarea Philippi, an area about 25 miles northeast of the Sea of Galilee. The region had tremendous religious implications. The place was littered with the temples of the Syrian gods. Here also was the elaborate marble temple that had been erected by Herod the Great, father of the then ruling Herod Antipas. Here also was the influence of the Greek gods. Here also the worship of Caesar as a God himself. You might say that the world religions were on display in this town. It was with this scene in the background that Jesus chose to ask the most crucial questions of his ministry.

He looked at his disciples and in a moment of reflection said: "Who do men say that I am?" The disciples begin sharing with Jesus what they have heard from the people who have been following Jesus: Some say that you are Elijah; others say John the Baptist, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets. It's always been this way, Jesus as seen by the masses is seen in so many different ways.

You can speak of Jesus as prophet, holy man, teacher, or spiritual leader, and few will object. But speak of Him as Son of God, divine, of the same nature as the Father, and people will line up to express their disapproval.

A billion Muslims will say: "Prophet, yes. God, no!" Jews scattered around the world will say: "Teacher, yes. Messiah, no!" Liberal Protestants and religionists of various stripes will say: "Exemplary man, yes. Divine, no!" Who do people say he is? Who do you say he is? And what are we called to do? Let's take a look at the answers to these three question:

1. Who do men say that I am?
2. Who do you say that I am?
3. What is the church called to do?

Many years ago a pastor was invited to preach at a nearby country church he had never been to before. As he set out he was uncertain which road to take since most rural roads are not clearly marked and the directions he had been given left something to be desired. He stopped to ask directions along the way. The person he asked tried, but mistakenly steered him down the wrong road.

The morning was pleasant and although the road seemed a little longer than the pastor had expected, he cheerfully continued on his way. Finally he arrived at a little white church just as the Sunday School lesson was concluding. The pastor entered the church and greeted some of the people as he made his way to the pulpit. That morning he delivered a strong and inspiring sermon. People in the congregation weren't quite sure what to think, but they listened attentively. When the worship service concluded, the pastor descended from the pulpit, shook hands with the good people and headed toward home.

Meanwhile, there was another small church a few miles away. It was filled with people waiting and wondering what could possibly have happened to the pastor who was scheduled to preach for them. Our hero never suspected that he had preached at the wrong church that morning.

There are times in our lives when we have to admit that things seem out of place. Somehow things just don't seem to fit. Advent is one of those times. Everywhere we go we see signs of the Christmas season - festive decorations, brightly colored lights, carols playing loudly at the mall, Christmas specials on television reminding us of the jolly nature of the holiday. Yet, when we arrive at church on this, the Second Sunday of Advent, we are greeted by an unlikely figure, John the Baptist. Something just doesn't seem right. It seems that we are in the wrong place. Or at the very least John the Baptist has picked the wrong Sunday to be our guest speaker.

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

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

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

Around 1870 New York City had one of the most hotly contested mayor's races in its history. The incumbent was Mayor John Tweed, Boss Tweed he was called. He was running for reelection. The Boss Tweed machine represented politics at its very worst. The entire administration was corrupt to the core. A number of dedicated people decided that they were fed up with this kind of politics and the good people of the city took on the Boss Tweed element. At first they seemed to make headway. But as the campaign drug on they began to feel the pressures of machine politics. Many of these good people began to drop out. When the election was held and the results counted, to many people's disappointment, they discovered that Boss Tweed had been reelected. The next day the New York Times ran an editorial and analyzed what had happened. It said: The good people quit being good before the bad people quit being bad"

Isn't that so often our dilemma. We are not tenacious. We throw up our hands in disgust. In our witnessing if we don't have instant affirmation then we throw in the towel. The same thing is true with prayer.

As the door to a new era swings open, John the Baptist is the ideal hinge. He is dressed like the old age, but he points to the new. His preaching style is vintage Old Israel; his message paves the way for New Israel. He appears to have wandered out of some retirement home for old prophets, but he announces the arrival of one who is even greater than the prophets. He baptizes with the water of the ancient Jordan River; he promises the coming of one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. Everything is about to change. The old is passing away; the new presses in. The long, lost night of hopelessness is coming to an end, and John the Baptist is the rooster who awakens the sleeping world with dawn's excited cry.

Fifty-six men signed the Declaration of Independence. Their conviction resulted in untold sufferings for themselves and their families. Of the 56 men, five were captured by the British and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons in the Revolutionary Army. Another had two sons captured. Nine of the fifty-six fought and died from wounds or hardships of the war. Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships sunk by the British navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts and died in poverty.

At the battle of Yorktown, the British General Cornwallis had taken over Thomas Nelson's home for his headquarters. Nelson quietly ordered General George Washington to open fire on the Nelson home. The home was destroyed and Nelson died bankrupt. John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their thirteen children fled for their lives. His fields and mill were destroyed. For over a year, he lived in forests and caves, returning home only to find his wife dead and his children vanished. A few weeks later, he died from exhaustion.

Such were the sacrifices of the founding fathers. There are no movements that have shaped the world where sacrifice was not called upon. And of course in the church we have all our grace predicated on a sacrifice and it didn't stop at the cross. Jesus told his disciples that they too would need to take up the cross. And that's what they did:

• Matthew suffered martyrdom by being slain with a sword at a distant city of Ethiopia.
• Mark expired at Alexandria, after being cruelly dragged through the streets of that city.
• Luke was hanged upon an olive tree in the classic land of Greece.
• John was put in a cauldron of boiling oil, but escaped death in a miraculous manner, and was afterward banished to Patmos.
• Peter was crucified at Rome with his head downward.
• James, the Greater, was beheaded at Jerusalem.
• James, the Less, was thrown from a lofty pinnacle of the temple, and then beaten to death with a fuller's club.
• Bartholomew was flayed alive.
• Andrew was bound to a cross, whence he preached to his persecutors until he died.
• Thomas was run through the body with a lance at Coromandel in the East Indies.
• Jude was shot to death with arrows.
• Matthais was first stoned and then beheaded.
• Barnabas of the Gentiles was stoned to death at Salonica.
• Paul, after various tortures and persecutions, was at length beheaded at Rome by the Emperor Nero.

Many years ago as the world watched the beginning game of the World Series in San Francisco there was suddenly an interruption of the opening interview. The screen blinked and went blank. When the program resumed: A Special News Bulletin. The San Francisco metropolitan area had experienced a serious earthquake. We all watched the live pictures as the huge fire in the Marina area burned. A remote camera crew was there and we saw the firemen fighting the fires. The scene I remember the most, however, was a group of people standing around just looking at the destruction and looking at the fire.

All of a sudden a cop came up to the crowd and yelled out to them: What are you people doing just standing there. You must get prepared immediately. Go home and fill your bathtubs up with water. Be prepared to live without city services for 72 hours. The sun will set in another hour and your time is running out. Go and get prepared.

A long, long time ago a man came on the scene by the name of John the Baptist. John's message was not told in soft monotones, but rather there was an urgent screaming in his voice. "Why are you not getting ready?" he yelled to the Hebrews. Why are you just standing there. Don't you see that your time is running out on you. You need to be preparing the way. Making the path straight. Go and get ready.

That message may sound very strange to our modern ears, but the simple truth is that is Jesus were standing here in the flesh this morning and we asked him to give a list of the preachers who were most instrumental upon him, he would have listed the name of John the Baptist. There is just simply no question about that. There was no single human being who was more influential upon the life and career of Jesus than John.

In John Steinbeck's story "The Wayward Bus" a dilapidated old bus takes a cross country shortcut on its journey to Los Angeles, and gets stuck in the mud. While the drivers go for assistance, the passengers take refuge in a cave. It is acurious company of people and it is obvious that the author is attempting to get across the point that these people are lost spiritually as well as literally. As they enter into this cave, the author calls the reader's attention to the fact that as they enter they must pass a word that has been scrawled with paint over the entrance. The word is repent. Although Steinbeck calls that to the reader's attention it is interesting that none of the passengers pay any attention to it whatsoever.

All too often this is our story. Yet, John the Baptist calls upon us to take our sinning seriously. Why? Because God does? Repentance is not just changing our minds, or feeling sorry for something that we have done, or even making bold resolves that we will never participate in certain conduct again. Instead, repentance means to turn around and go in another direction. What John the Baptist wanted his audience to hear was: Turn your life toward this one called Messiah. This is not negative or down-faced. Rather, it breaks the chains of oppression and death that hold us back.

William Willimon, who was Chaplain at Duke University years ago, said that John the Baptist reminds us of boundaries we must respect and gates we must pass through. At Duke, Willimon reminds the students, "If you are going to graduate, you must first get past the English Department. If you are going to practice law, you must pass the bar. If you want to get to medical school you must survive Organic Chemistry." Likewise, "If you want to get to the joy of Bethlehem in the presence of Jesus, you must get past John the Baptist in the desert." The word from John is "repent," which means"about-face" or turning 180 degrees.

Tradition holds that the Apostles died in the following manner:

• Matthew suffered martyrdom by being slain with a sword at a distant city of Ethiopia.
• Mark expired at Alexandria, after being cruelly dragged through the streets of that city.
• Luke was hanged upon an olive tree in the classic land of Greece.
• John was put in a cauldron of boiling oil, but escaped death in a miraculous manner, and was afterward banished to Patmos.
• Peter was crucified at Rome with his head downward.
• James, the Greater, was beheaded at Jerusalem.
• James, the Less, was thrown from a lofty pinnacle of the temple, and then beaten to death with a fuller's club.
• Bartholomew was flayed alive.
• Andrew was bound to a cross, whence he preached to his persecutors until he died.
• Thomas was run through the body with a lance at Coromandel in the East Indies.
• Jude was shot to death with arrows.
• Matthais was first stoned and then beheaded.
• Barnabas of the Gentiles was stoned to death at Salonica.
• Paul, after various tortures and persecutions, was at length beheaded at Rome by the Emperor Nero.

Baron de Rothschild was one of the richest men who ever lived. Legend has it that the Baron once posed before an artist as a beggar. While the artist, Ary Scheffer, was painting him, the financier sat before him in rags and tatters holding a tin cup. A friend of the artist entered, and the baron was so well disguised that he was not recognized. Thinking he was really a beggar, the visitor dropped a coin into the cup.

Ten years later, the man who gave the coin to Rothschild received a letter containing a bank order for 10,000 francs and the following message: "You one day gave a coin to Baron de Rothschild in the studio of Ary Scheffer.  He has invested it and today sends you the capital which you entrusted to him, together with the compounded interest. A good action always brings good fortune. Signed, Baron de Rothschild."  A simple act of kindness was bountifully rewarded.

Now hear the words of our Lord: "He who receives you receives Me, and he who receives Me receives Him who sent Me. He who receives a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward; and he who receives a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man's reward. And whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water to drink, truly I say to you he shall not lose his reward." Even a cup of cold, says the Master, water given to one of his little ones will be rewarded.

Note: This does appear to be more legend than fact. We are unable to find the actual painting described in the story nor evidence of the story itself. 

I must candidly confess that when I was in seminary the 16th chapter of Paul's letter to the Romans didn't do much for me. It struck me as being boring nothing more than a long presentation of people's names, most of whom I could not pronounce; I usually skimmed over that part so I could get to what I considered to be the real Gospel. Over the years I have greatly changed my attitude about this particular chapter and I have discovered that there is much more to it than I had first imagined. For example, it is interesting to note that of the twenty-six people who Paul singles out for his personal greeting, six were women. Now that strikes me as being rather interesting, since Paul has frequently gotten a bum rap for being a male chauvinist. I think it also shows us the tremendous influence that women had in the early church. In the male oriented first century Palestine, it is telling that Paul could not describe the church without mentioning the significant role of women.

Verse 13 of chapter 16 is particularly interesting and it is one that scholars have struggled with over the centuries. Paul writes: "Give my greetings to Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mother and mine." Now this statement could be taken two ways. It could mean that Paul had two distinct women in mind--the mother of Rufus and his own personal mother. Or, he could be saying: "I salute Rufus and his mother, who is like a mother to me." If that is what he meant, and most Biblical scholars agree that that is indeed what he meant, then it raises some interesting speculation. When and where did Paul meet Rufus' mother? Did she nurse him through some serious illness? 

Did she receive him into her home for an extended stay during his missionary journeys? How did this woman and Paul form such a close bond that he refers to her fondly as being like his mother? Mark tells us that Simon of Cyrene, the man who carried Jesus cross, had two sons: Alexander and Rufus. Was this the same Rufus to whom Paul was speaking? If that is true, his mother would be Simon of Syrene's wife. No one knows for sure who this remarkable woman was who served as a mother figure for the great Paul. But it really makes no difference, because what he writes makes an excellent springboard for a Mother's Day sermon.

Some people ridicule Mother's Day as a lot of sentimental drivel. They say that it is nothing more than the creation of the greeting card companies and the florists. And, to be perfectly candid, there are many ministers who shun this day because, they say, it is not a religious holiday. Furthermore, they preach from the lectionary, which has an assigned scriptural reading each week, and therefore mother's day is left out.

Well, of course, we must admit that there is sentiment to this day, but what is wrong with that? Seems to me that a little bit of sentiment is healthy.  True enough, there are some women in the Bible, such as Jezebel and the vindictive Herodias, who had John the Baptist beheaded, who tarnish the institution of motherhood. There are women today who abandon, abuse, and corrupt their children and who create a poor model, but I like to think that these are the exceptions. Most mothers do the right thing and deserve recognition. So this morning I would like to join Paul and salute all of the mothers who are with us.

1. First, mothers should be saluted for their tenacious love.
2. Secondly, mothers should be saluted for the tremendous impact they have.
3. Third, mothers should be saluted because where they are, that is where home is.

Now, more than ever, we need to face the question, "Who is the real Jesus?" Is the Christ of faith the Jesus of history? What is the truth about Jesus? What can we believe? We turn to the Apostles' Creed which has given the church's answer for 2,000 years.

Different Positions

It is not strange that the most popular question of our time is, "Who is Jesus?" Was this question not answered in Matthew 16:16 when Peter said to Jesus at Caesarea Philippi: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God"? In Jesus' day, too, there were different opinions about Jesus. When on a retreat with his disciples, he asked them what people were saying about him. The public was divided: Jesus was considered to be John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. What more of an answer do we need than the answer of Peter? Jesus accepted his answer as the truth, for he said, "Blessed are you, Simon, son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven" (Matthew 16:17). Yet, after twenty centuries, we do not believe what Peter said about the identity of Jesus. According to a Gallup poll, 42 percent of Americans agreed with the statement: "Jesus is the Son of God." A recent report from Germany indicated that only one out of every four believe in Jesus Christ. Throughout Christian history down to the present, there are different views of Jesus. Now let us look at some of them.

1. The All-Human Jesus

Human

According to this position, Jesus is 100 percent human. It was held as early as the first centuries of Christianity by the Ebionites. They denied that Jesus was divine. He was only a teacher, prophet, miracle-man, and one with an outstanding character. But he was not divine, the Son of God. Today this view is held by many, including atheists, agnostics, Unitarians, Jews, Moslems, and other non-Christian religions.

2. The All-Divine Jesus

Divine

Opposite the Ebionites, Docetists held that Jesus was entirely divine. He was not at all human. This view was originally taught by Eutychus, a monk in a monastery near Constantinople. In the fourth century, Appolonarius, bishop of Laodicea, popularized the teaching. It was known as Docetism, from the Latin word docere meaning "to seem." It just seemed that Jesus was human. It was based on the idea that the physical and material were inherently evil. The human body therefore was sinful. Jesus therefore was not human, for God could not be identified with sin. Docetists held that Jesus' human nature was swallowed up by the divine. This denied the Incarnation, the biblical teaching that "the Word became flesh."

3. The Half And Half Jesus

Human/Divine

Nestorians took the view that Jesus was half human and half divine. It was taught by Nestorius, bishop of Constantinople, in the fifth century. To this day it is a very popular understanding of Jesus. When we see Jesus hungry, thirsty, and tired, we say it was because he was human. When he struggles in prayer and on the cross cries out, "My God, why ...?" we see the human Jesus. On the other hand, Jesus is God when he walks on water, feeds 5,000, raises the dead, heals lepers, and rises from the grave. The problem with this view is that we have a divided Jesus -- two persons in one body.

4. The Adopted Jesus

Divine

Human

This is known as adoptionism. According to this position, Jesus came into the world as a human. Because of his moral excellence, his perfect obedience to God, his wisdom, his compassion for people, and his willing sacrifice of himself on the cross, the Father adopted him as his son at his baptism. This adoption was confirmed by the resurrection and the ascension. Jesus then became a deified man.

5. The Both And Jesus

Human & Divine

The above different positions concerning Jesus caused great concern, for the gospel was at stake. If Jesus were only human, then he was just a martyr on the cross and not the Lamb that took away the sin of the world. If he were only human, the resurrection was a fairy tale. His promises of forgiveness and eternal life were meaningless. His claims to know God and to be one with God would then be the words of a religious fanatic who was deluded into thinking he was the Son of God.

On the other hand, if Jesus were only divine and not human, humanity would be the loser. Because he was human, he became one of us. As a human, he fulfilled the law for us. Through his humanity we could see the nature of God. Above all, he became sin for us so that sin, through him, could go out of the world. As a human Jesus knows our human condition. Like all of us he was tempted and he showed that by the power of God we can overcome temptation to sin.

Consequently, the church had to take a stand on the question of Jesus. Is he only human, only divine, or half and half? In 451 A.D. the church held a council at Chalcedon to decide the issue. The church decided that it was not a matter of Jesus being fully God or fully human, or half and half, but it was a matter of both, both fully human and fully divine. To this day the church holds to this truth stated at Chalcedon:

We confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, perfect in manhood, truly God and truly man, or a rational soul and a body, of one substance with the Father with respect to the Godhead, and of one substance with us in respect of the manhood, like us in everything but sin ...

This is to say that Jesus is fully God and fully man. These two natures are blended into one integrated personality. He is not a split personality, nor does he suffer from schizophrenia. It is like a blender in your kitchen. Suppose you put apples, peaches, and pears in it and pushed the "on" button for a minute. Now what do you have -- apples, peaches, and pears? Yes, you do, but can you tell which is which? They have become one fruit, one substance. Also, it is like homogenized milk. When the raw milk comes from the farm, a dairy runs it through a homogenizer. As the milk runs through the machine, pistons compact the milk so that the cream and skim milk are made one. As a result you cannot take cream off the milk. In the same way, the human and divine natures of Jesus are compacted into one integrated person.

This means that the Father and the Son are one. When Jesus prays, God also prays. When the human Jesus suffers and dies on a cross, God is in Jesus enduring the cross. "God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Corinthians 5:19). When the human Jesus speaks, it is also God who speaks. When Jesus weeps, God weeps. This truth makes us realize the seriousness of the cross. It was not only a human on the cross, but God was there in Jesus. Good Friday is the day God died in Jesus. Indeed, the murderers did not know what they were doing; they did not know they were killing God! As the spiritual says, "Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble."

The following messages can be heard form the pulpits throughout the United Stets every morning. 

• Noah’s message from the steps going up to the Ark was not, “Something good is going to happen to you!”
• Amos was not confronted by the high priest of Israel for proclaiming, “Confession is possession!”
• Jeremiah was not put into the pit for preaching, “I’m O.K., you’re O.K.!”
• Daniel was not put into the lion’s den for telling people, “Possibility thinking will move mountains!”
• John the Baptist was not forced to preach in the wilderness and eventually beheaded because he preached, “Smile, God loves you!”
• The two prophets of the tribulation will not be killed for preaching, “God is in his heaven and all is right with the world!”

But what, in actuality, was the message of all these men of God? A simple single word: “Repent!”

Alan Paton's novel, Cry, the Beloved Country, is the story of a black South African pastor, Stephen Kumalo, who travels from his small village of Ntodsheni to the city of Johannesburg, to find his son Jonathan. Jonathan had gone to the city to find employment, but while there had gotten involved with the wrong crowd, and when Pastor Kumalo finds his son, Jonathan is in jail for killing a white lawyer named Arthur Jarvis. In an intriguing turn of events, we learn that Arthur had been a leading advocate for the rights of black Africans and had just finished writing a book about the need for justice in that hate-torn nation.

In his grief the pastor goes to the father of Arthur Jarvis, to apologize for his son's crime. The elder Jarvis little agreed with his son's passion for working against the evils of apartheid. But in the aftermath of Arthur's death, the father struggles to make sense of the changes in his son's perspective that had set him on such a markedly different course in life. As a result, the father reads and rereads his son's manuscript. And that seems to explain what enabled the elder Jarvis not to berate or reject Pastor Kumalo, but instead to receive him kindly. In the days and weeks that follow, the elder Jarvis continues to embrace a new perspective, eventually promising to erect a new church building for the congregation Pastor Kumalo serves. Further, the elder Jarvis offers to build a dam for the village of Ntodsheni, so that the people might have year-round access to fresh water.

The very rumor of what is to be done sends a shock wave of hope throughout the village. There will now be water for irrigation. The people will be able to raise cattle. And because there will be abundant food and milk for their families, the young people of the village will no longer have to drift off to the cities to find work. There will be laughter and singing and dancing once again. Nothing had yet happened, and yet the village is transformed, as if the changes have already occurred. Writes Alan Paton, "Although nothing has come yet, something is here already."

The Gospel writers portray John the Baptist as one who raised the hopes of the ancient people of Israel, pointing the way to the coming of the Messiah, the One so much greater than John that the Baptist feels unworthy even to untie his sandals. As the Baptist begins his ministry, nothing has yet happened; and yet, in their anticipation of more yet to come, the people begin to respond as if the long-awaited Messiah were already present.

The twentieth century provided numerous examples of prophets who have blazed paths for others to follow. In India, Mahatma Gandhi, through a method of nonviolent resistance, led his people to throw off British Imperialism and bring freedom to the sub-continent and its peoples. In the 1960s, using similar tactics, Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke of the dream he had of a nation where people would not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. In the late 1970s, Archbishop Oscar Romero in El Salvador heard the cry of the poor in his land and acted to bring hope and justice to a society dominated by wealth and power. Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu in South Africa provided the light to lead their nation out of the dark night of apartheid to a new light of freedom for all. Our history is replete with examples of contemporary prophets, but are we listening to their collective voice and finding the path they have blazed?

John the Baptist pointed the way to Jesus, serving as a prophet for the people of his day. Let us, in whatever capacity God has provided in our lives, do likewise. Let us be prophets who blaze a path to the Lord, both at Christmas and for eternal life.

There were two brothers in Georgia during the 1950's. One decided that in opposition to the dominant culture of the day, he was going to participate in the formation of a desegregated community. The other worked as an attorney for a prominent law firm. Both were Christians and attended church regularly. As the community formed and social pressure forced the community into court proceedings, the one brother asked his attorney brother to help them with the legal work. The brother refused, saying that he could lose his job. He pressured his brother to help with a reminder that he was a Christian. The lawyer responded, "I will follow Jesus to his cross, but it is his cross. I have no need to be crucified." To this his brother replied, "Then you are an admirer of Jesus, but not his disciple."

King Herod is like this attorney. He greatly admired this prophet from God, John the Baptist, but not enough to become his disciple, not enough to risk his own honor and prestige to protect him.

Another similarity occurs in the first part of our text. The people had heard about Jesus. They knew of his great work. They heard about his powerful teaching. They admired him, but they came to the wrong conclusions about him. These people knew about Jesus, but they did not follow him.

CAMELS BIBLE In 1832 an edition had Rebekah leaving her tent to meet Isaac with a group of - not damsels - but camels.

WIFE-HATER BIBLE An 1810 version read, "If any man come to me, and hate not . . . his own wife (instead of :life"), he cannot be my disciple."

"SIN ON" BIBLE. The first English-language Bible to be printed in Ireland, in 1716, encouraged its readers to "sin on more" rather than "sin no more." A similar error in 1653 had declared: "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God?"

THE WICKED BIBLE of 1631 reported the Seventh Commandment as "Thou shalt commit adultery," a mistake that infuriated King Charles. He ordered all copies destroyed and fined all printers whose hands had touched the edition.

MURDER'S BIBLE. This 19th-century faux pas had Mark 7:27 as "Let the children be killed" instead of "filled."

PLACEMAKER BIBLE. a 16th Century printer had Jesus blessing the "place-makers" instead of "peacemakers." An American printer later substituted the "Parable of the Vinegar" for the "Vineyard."

PRINTERS Bible. Perhaps King David was on target in a 1702 edition, which quoted him as saying "Printers (instead of "princes") have persecuted me without cause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you read the story about the Pharisee, a number of specific statements are made about his piety. Please note this. Everything the man says about himself is true. For instance, when he says, "I thank you that I am not like other men," indeed he wasn't like other men. He had a standard of morality that was far above the standard of that day.

• When he said, "I fast twice a week;" it happens to be literally true. The Pharisees fasted on Monday and Thursday of every week.
• When he says, "I give tithes of all I possess," he means he tithes on the gross and not on the net. He went beyond the Law of Moses. That's no big deal; all the Pharisees did that.
• When he says, "I am not a crook," he really isn't a crook.
• When he says, "I am not like this filthy tax collector," he's really not like that guy.
• When he says, "I do not commit adultery," he really doesn't commit adultery. He is faithful to his wife.
• When he says, "I am honest, I am faithful, I am zealous for my religion," he means it and every word of it is true. He truly is a genuinely good man.

What we are to understand is this. When he prayed he was telling the truth. When he said, "Lord, you're lucky to have a guy like me, because I'm one of the best guys I know," it was really true. He really was a wonderful guy.

While he prayed, people would be standing around watching. And they would say, "Yep, he's a fine man." While he prayed, they probably applauded. He was the kind of guy you'd want living next door to you. A good citizen. A law-abiding man. A good, religious kind of person. If he were to come to this church today we'd love him because he would be faithful, loyal, and give us a lot of money. We'd probably make him an elder or a deacon. He's just that kind of guy. He looks really good on the outside. Everything he says about himself is absolutely true.

So what's wrong? Well, for all his goodness he isn't perfect, no one is, and the Law requires perfection. I like to call this narcissistic righteousness. What good is all the law if you don't have love? If you are not reaching out to those around you. If the center of your righteousness is You, you've missed the center. The center is love God and love your neighbor. 

The Memminger Institute in Topeka, Kansas once had a fascinating experiment. They identified a group of crib babies who did not cry. Let me explain. It seems that babies cry because they instinctively know that this is the way to get attention. Crying is their way of calling out. These babies, however, had been in abusive situations. Their parents let hem cry for hours on end and never responded. Do you know what happened? The babies eventually quit crying. It is almost as if they had learned that it was not worth trying.

So the Memminger Institute came in for an experiment. They got some people from retirement and from nursing homes, and every day these people held these babies and rocked them. The object was to get these babies to start crying again. And you know, it worked. Physical touch had made the difference.

As important as physical touch is there is another kind of touch that is even more important. It is spiritual touch. And I would contend that when a people are denied spiritual touch a very similar thing happens. They stop trying to do and be good. Their lives fall in disrepair and violence, anger, lying, robbery, adultery, abuse and murder creep in.

This week's text challenges individuals and your church community to examine how they respond to the persistent voice of God in their lives.

From Presbyterian author and editor John C. Purdy comes the title and story that inspired this week's sermon ideas. Purdy recalls that in The Blue Mountains of China (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1970), Canadian Mennonite/English Professor/author Rudy Wiebe tells the story of a Mennonite farmer named Sam Reimer. One night Sam hears a voice saying to him, "Samuel, Samuel ... I am the God of your fathers, the Lord your God. Go and proclaim peace in Vietnam." In perplexity, Sam goes to his pastor, who tells him to listen for the voice a second time. The next night the call comes again, but Sam cannot get anyone to believe that he has truly heard God's voice. His pastor won't believe it; neither will his wife or his fellow Mennonites. The Canadian government won't give him a visa to Vietnam; the inter-Mennonite Church Service Society won't help him. Sam's reaction to these rebuffs is to give up hope and die. On his deathbed he says to his wife, "When I heard the voice, I should of gone. Left a note and gone. When you know like that, are chosen, you shouldn't wait, talk. Go." (Returning God's Call [Louisville, Ky: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989], 10).

Sam Reimer heard the same call that came to Samuel the prophet. But Sam Reimer's call never materialized into a prophetic mission because the community of faith surrounding him failed to support him. If old Eli, despite his shortsightedness and personal failures, had not counseled the young Samuel on recognizing and responding to God's call, how could the fledgling prophet have learned to open his mind and heart to receive God's words?

C.S. Lewis said there are two kinds of people in the world: those who respond to God saying, "Thy will be done" and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way." It might also be said that there are two kinds of people who return God's call: those who say to God "Thy will be done" and those who respond to God by saying "All right, then, have it your way." As you return God's call this week, may you so stand in the stream of God's consciousness, that the waters of God's love and the waves of God's will may carry you in the directions the Spirit would have you go - toward the people God would have you meet and minister unto.

A fifteen-year-old girl went to a youth conference in Oklahoma. She was short and a bit overweight. She was not too attractive, and she had been crippled from birth. When a dance was held one night at the conference, she simply put her crutches by a chair nearby, sat down in another chair and spent the evening watching the others dance. All the time smiling, but who knows the pain that was going on inside.

My friend, Norman Neaves, who tells the story says, "The music was the kind that peals the skin off your face and overloads the auditory nerve, and the floor was full of teenagers moving with the rhythm." Then a very special thing happened. In the middle of the dance program that evening, a slow number was played by the band, and a tall 16-year-old boy went over to this girl, held out his hand and said to her, "Please, would you dance with me?" She looked up with unbelieving surprise, and with a smile quivering on her face, she said, "Yes." Together they began dancing. The young man held her tightly, and she held on to him tightly, lest she stumble and fall. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

"Later that evening, one of the leaders went to the young man and told him how special he thought it was for him to do this, and how much he admired him. And he said, "As the two of you were dancing, I noticed that she whispered something in your ear. Do you mind if I ask what it was?"

And the teenager said, "You're not going to believe this, but she said that this was the first time that anyone had ever asked her to dance in her whole life." (Norman Neaves, quoted by Donald Shelby, "Eureka".

That's a picture of grace. All grace.

Can you imagine how that young woman felt? Unattractive, crippled, never having been asked to dance. And then came Prince Charming and it happened. Can you imagine how she felt? If so, then you are beginning to understand grace.

I don't know if you realize it or not, but lately there's a great preoccupation with Jesus' relationship with women. The Da Vinci Code has sold 80 million copies. It's a fast paced thriller that claims Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene, and the church knew about this, the novel claims, but suppressed it. And let me ask you, as an aside, whenever you hear the name “Mary Magdalene," what comes to your mind? The woman accused of adultery? The woman history says was a prostitute? If it does, then you've been taken in.

In the year 591, in a sermon, Pope Gregory the Great, identified Mary Magdalene with the adulteress woman. And in 1969, the Vatican said he was wrong. The Vatican moves slowly. 1,378 years is a long time. There's no relationship in the New Testament between the woman taken in adultery and Mary Magdalene. Mel Gibson erroneously identifies her with the adulterous woman in his famous film, The Passion. It's clear that Jesus had a fondness for women. Luke, far more than any of the other gospel writers, points that out. Women were the first evangelizers, the first to tell the good news of Jesus' resurrection to his disciples. Martha and Mary, Lazarus' sisters were always considered to be his confidants. Their home was a place he could go for refreshment and peace. And it is this "Samaritan" woman who is a bit troubled but nevertheless brings many people, a whole village, to believe in Jesus.

In the opera Faust, there is a fight to the finish between Satan and the young man Valentine. During the course of the fight, Satan breaks Valentine's sword and he stands poised to slay him. But the young boy takes the two pieces of his sword and fashions them into a cross. Confronted with this symbol of faith, Satan becomes immobilized and Valentine is saved.

It is an interesting concept: A dramatic demonstration of faith. Unfortunately such resolution of faith does not always save you. In fact, it might be your deathbed. It was John's. Take a look at the story with me. John has been arrested by King Herod. And why? Because John kept reminding Herod that even the king is not above the law. He said, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife."

So this was the king's egregious sin. He had stolen his brother's wife, Herodias. Now, it would be understandable if this were where the story ended. The king didn't like a desert preacher calling him a sinner so he had him beheaded. Simple enough. But life is not always simple. There is usually more to a story than meets the eye. And in this case we learn that Herod actually liked to listen to John, thought he was a holy man, and protected him. Perhaps, in Herod's mind, putting him under lock and key was a way of removing him from harms way.

So if the king was offended by John's outbursts, it was not enough to warrant death. The king feared the prophet and dared not harm him. But life has a funny way of pressuring us to do things we would not normally do. This is a story about a man who caved due to social pressures. Let me ask you: How do life's pressures affect your judgment? What can we learn form this deplorable moment in the life of this king, this moment when the king caved? We learn that...

1. Puzzling problems require conscientious decisions
2. Promises made in haste create great waste
3. Pressures in life can affect good judgment

Death is no respecter of persons, or families. There is an Eastern legend about a Hindu woman whose only child had died. She went to a prophet to ask for her child back. The prophet told her to go and obtain a handful of rice from a house into which death had not come. If she could obtain the rice in this way, he promised to give her the child back. From door to door she asked the question, "Are you all here around the table fathers, mothers, children...none missing?" But always the answer came back that there were empty chairs in each house. As she continued on, her grief and sorrow softened as she found that death had visited all families. Yes, death is universal; our painful experience is not the only one of its kind. Because God is faithful, because Jesus Christ is alive, so is your loved one and mine.

Several years ago a scholar by the name of Dr. Harry Rimmer had a friendly discussion with a Muslim teacher in which they compared their faiths.

Dr. Rimmer said “We believe that God has spoken to us in a book, the Bible.”

The Muslim teacher replied, “We believe God has spoken to us in a book, the Koran.”

Rimmer then said, “We believe that God visited this planet in the person of Jesus Christ.”

The Muslim teacher replied, “We believe that God has revealed himself in the prophet Muhammad.”

Rimmer then said “We believe that Jesus Christ died for His people.”

The Muslim replied, “We believe that Muhammad died for his people.”

Rimmer then added, “We believe that Jesus proved His claim, by coming back from the grave.”

I have heard it argued from both pulpit and pew that Jesus' words "Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's" mean that a Christian is duty-bound to love America, right or wrong. I'm sorry, but I cannot agree with that. One Christian writer has said, "The greatest service Christians can render to their country is to become actively concerned about the destiny of the church."

I have also heard it argued that "Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's" implies a strict separation of church and state, that Jesus is dividing life into two separate and distinct parts - a spiritual part and a secular, or worldly, part. Dedicated and committed Christians have been arguing for this separation for centuries, and we probably won't settle the issue once and for all today. Their argument has been that with these words Jesus is telling us to obey God in the spiritual realm and to obey the government in everything else. Now, that's a nice, neat little division, and it solves many difficult problems. Politics is politics and religion is religion and never the twain shall meet. Let the church take care of its own business and keep their noses out of social and political issues. That would be fine if it worked. You and I both know that it doesn't. Yes, there are obligations we have to the governing authorities, such as paying taxes, exercising our right to vote, and obeying civil laws. But as followers of Jesus Christ, our ultimate obligation is to "seek first the kingdom of God," and all other obligations have to have a lower priority. There can only be one top priority.

Preaching on this text, one pastor quips: "You can get away with murder if you are just a little vague. Let me tell you what that means. If you make a statement or a promise and you are just vague enough, you leave yourself an out. We have come to expect this kind of thing from politicians. A politician promises to "address" an issue. We think the politician will do something about the problem when in reality all they intend to do is make mention of it in a speech. After all, another word for a speech is an address." He continues, "If you can get away with murder by being vague, you can also get yourself killed by being too precise. If you say exactly what you mean, people will hold you to your words. Your precision has given them a standard by which to judge you and your actions. It gives them something solid to shoot at. Your enemies will love you for being too precise. If you beat around the bush you can get away scot-free, but if you say exactly what you mean they'll nail you." This, he argues, is exactly what is happening here with Jesus. He has been precise - he does not mince words - he says he is the bread of life, and that is what he means. And of course, the crowds who just the day before wanted to force kingship upon him now are confused, grumbling at his words, and questioning his authority.

One pastor writes, "In one way, what Jesus says is plain: He is talking about his divine identity. But even seeing that causes questions, for we humans simply cannot comprehend what it means to be divine. We know that to be divine is to be different-different from being human; but since we are not divine, it's hard to know what the difference is! But when Jesus says he is the heavenly bread of life, he gives us plenty of clues. Bread is something we eat. It nourishes us. It sustains us. And at points in our lives it even makes us grow. Maybe that's who Jesus is, God come to us to nourish us, to sustain us, and to make us grow. Moreover, maybe like bread, Jesus has to be consumed to do us any good!"

A little bit of hell spilled over on the world because two people believed in a false prophet. In his brilliant book, Nicholas and Alexandra, Robert K. Massie tells how the czar and empress of Russia were misled by a miracle and thus brought their great empire down to dust.

After many years of anxious waiting for an heir to the Russian throne, Czar Nicholas II and his German wife, Alexandra, were blessed with a son.

However, their hopes for the future were cruelly crushed six weeks later when doctors discovered the infant had hemophilia, an incurable blood disease that could kill at any moment. All of his short life was to be lived in the shadow of terror, with death stalking every footstep. This tragedy introduced into the royal family one of the most evil men who ever lived.

Several times the youngster slipped close to death. Seeing him writhe in excruciating pain, his tormented parents would beg doctors to do something, but they were helpless. In those moments they turned to Gregory Rasputin, a religious mystic of questionable credentials, later known as the mad monk of Russia. Invariably, he would pray for the boy and there would be a marked improvement. Even today doctors are at a loss to explain how these healings took place, but history testifies to them. Always, Rasputin would warn the parents the boy would only live as long as they listened to him.

Rasputin's power over the royal family became so great he could, with a word, obtain the appointment or dismissal of any government official. He had men appointed or dismissed on the basis of their attitudes toward him rather than their abilities. Consequently, the whole Russian government reeled under the unwise counsel of this evil man. Seeds of revolution were planted and watered with discontent. It erupted into the murder of the royal family, internal war, and the Communist takeover.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A boy and his grandfather were at the beach playing together - as grandfathers and their grandchildren should and sometimes do. They made small boats of paper, and placed them on the sand alongside the water. Then the tide came in, reaching the boats, lifting them, and carrying them delightfully dancing on its ripples.

Make your boat and await the tide! Make your boat and be ready when the tide comes in. We are doing something of this kind when we worship. In worship, we are preparing our hearts for the moving Spirit of God. In worship, we are adjusting the focus of our faith so that we may see the great glory of God when it next appears.

Leave your unfolded sheet of boat-making paper at the water's edge, and when the tide comes, it will be only a sodden mass, soon shredded by the sand. But make a boat of it, and the incoming tide will lift it and set it dancing.

What tides time will bring we do not know. But we know this: when the tide comes, if we are not ready, we're likely to be overwhelmed by it; if we are ready, we will rise with it and ride on its crest. So let's let this time of worship, and every such time, be a time of building boats that can ride the crest of whatever tides may come.