So This is Christmas
28-Dec-08
Bethel UMC – 9:30 AM; Brooks Chapel UMC – 11:00 AM
Psalm 90.1-12
Well, Christmas Day is over. As for the Christmas season—we are still smack in the middle of it. But with the exception of a small number of people who may still have holiday celebrations to attend, the festivities have drawn to a close. All of the gifts have been opened (and some exchanged), leftovers have begun to be discarded, and a few of you may be just ambitious enough that you have started to take down the tree, the lights, the stockings, and the rest. Yes, another year has come and gone. And as we sit back to breathe a sigh of relief, we experience a deep catharsis in knowing that we made it through with very little damage done—and that there is only 362 days until we get to do it all again.
And rest assured, it will come back around before you know it. I would not have made such a statement twenty years ago. No, as a child it seemed that Christmas took forever to get here. The months just crept by from December to December. I can even recall thinking that they should invent another holiday where you get presents and put it somewhere on the middle of the calendar—you know, to sort of tide you over until jolly old Saint Nick arrived. Starting Friday morning, children everywhere were faced with the reality that they would have to wait twelve long, tedious, agonizing months before plunging into the vast cornucopia of boxes, tinsel, and ribbons with that unbridled enthusiasm that consumes their every waking thought.
But it is not so for us. Or at least, that is how it seems. It seems like we blink and the year has passed. It seems like 2008 just dawned and now we are preparing to ring in ‘09. And honestly, it all has me a bit bumfuzzled. I mean, the same “Merry Christmas” is wished to kids from one to ninety-two—and the exact same amount of time exists in between Christmases, regardless of how old one is. Still, as time rolls on, it seems to have shortened. And I am told it gets worse. I have been informed by some who have a few years on me that the older you get, the faster the hands on the clock seem to spin. Not really a comforting thought.
But this notion of the fleeting nature of time, especially now at the year’s conclusion, has caused me to seriously ponder some things. Some of these things are weighty and important, and some—not so much. But there is one issue that just refuses to go away; it gnaws at my spirit and demands my attention. And that is: are we, as professing Christians and believers in Jesus Christ, being all we can be for him? This is a question every one of us needs to ask ourselves every now and then.
Now odds are, you have had this question put to you before. It might even have been me who posed it. But as it pertains to matters of dire importance—sacred matters that have to do with the well-being of your soul and mine—I would much rather repeat myself, and increase the chances of an important concept getting engrained into your spirit, than gloss over something or leave it out all together and risk you missing out on an essential piece of truth that you need to hear. The great poet Walt Whitman rhetorically mused in his acclaimed work Leaves of Grass: “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself.” But contradiction is not something that I can afford, for our spiritual vitality hangs in the balance. I would much rather be repetitious than contradictory. So, borrowing a page from Mr. Whitman, I say: “Do I repeat myself? Very well then I repeat myself.”
Returning to the task at hand, I ask once more: Are we, as professing Christians and believers in Jesus Christ, being all we can be for him? When I ask that, I do not intend to be vague in the least. What I want to know is have we—both you and I—matured in Christ over the past year? Have we grown closer to him? Have we intentionally and deliberately looked for ways to strengthen our relationship with God? Have we progressed—have we moved forward—from where we were at the end of 2007? Ask yourself, “What has changed in my life?” And then ask, “Has that change been for the better?” An honest reflection on matters like these is absolutely necessary if we are to have the connection to Christ that he desires we have with him.
It is also absolutely necessary that we make occasional appraisals of where we stand with God because the amount of time we have in this world is finite. In the text we read this morning, the psalmist wrote that a person can, generally speaking, expect to live about seventy or eighty years. Of course, we know that there are many who exceed that number. But regardless of how long a life God graces you with, it will still—one day—be over.
And because this is an inescapable fact, the psalmist prays that God would “…teach us to number our days” (Psalm 90.12, NASB); by this, he does not mean that we should fret about the length of our lives. Rather, I think he means we need to be consciously aware that we should be utilizing the time we have been given to its utmost. About this, Benjamin Franklin once remarked, “Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for,” he said, it is the “…stuff life is made of.”
Some might say this means “living life to its fullest.” You have heard that phrase, have you not? But what does it mean? Unfortunately, the world would give us a bit of a skewed interpretation. For it would say that living life to its fullest would mean going out and living it up. In short—doing whatever you want, whenever you want. Many would contend that living life to its fullest means living a life filled with drunkenness, debauchery, lasciviousness, and carousing. Getting wild. Letting your hair down. Doing what you feel, with no concern for consequences. Well I have got to level with you. Though I have never been totally immersed in that world, I have peered inside. And it is not pretty. And to be quite frank, if that is what living life to its fullest entails, I want no part of it.
No, I suppose that—instead of living life to its fullest—I would say I am of a mind to live life at its best. That is, I want to daily live at the pinnacle of my potential. I want to be more like Christ when I wake up tomorrow than I am when I lay down my head tonight. I want to study more diligently, worship more reverently, speak more consistently, act more mercifully, give more generously, and love more deeply with each day that comes. Every day, I want to discover more about my Lord—about who he is and who I am in him. Certainly, there are days that I do not accomplish these things. There are days that I do not even try to do so as much as I could or should. But the bottom line remains my desire is genuine; and I know that if I keep seeking God and making earnest attempts at putting him first, then he will work in me—changing me little by little—as I keep going on to perfection.
So, I suppose, the issue here is really about how sincere our desire for God is. I have briefly referenced this in past sermons, but John Wesley wrote a marvelous message entitled “The Almost Christian”; in it, he put several questions to his listeners—all aimed at moving them toward an introspective examination of themselves. This examination, in his view, would help them to discover whether they were really being (as I said earlier) all they could be for Christ. Some of these questions included:
•Is the love of God shed abroad in your heart?
•Do you desire nothing but him?
•Are you happy in God?
•Is he your glory, your delight, your crown of rejoicing?
•Do you love every man, even your enemies and enemies of God, as your own self?
•Do you love them as Christ loved you?
•Do you believe Christ loved you, and gave himself for you?
•Do you have faith in the blood sacrifice he made for you?
•Does the Holy Spirit witness to you that you are now a child of God?
It is obvious to me that Rev. Wesley cared about nothing as much as he cared about a life of holiness and piety, and about living a life that is—as sincerely as possible—wholly devoted to God. I believe we would do well to mimic the example that our founding father set for us. I believe we would do even better to reclaim such standards as the basis for our denominational beliefs. For each of us needs to know that, whatever else may come in this life, God comes first.
One of my all-time favorite songwriters, the late John Lennon, composed the lyrics to a well-known Christmas song several years ago. It is often played on contemporary radio stations, and is by no means a carol or religious in any explicit way. But the opening words are rather profound, and always move me in a contemplative direction. He wrote:
So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun.
As I said in the opening of this message, this year is fast coming to an end. Three hundred and some odd days behind us. And what have we done with them? Have we used them to better ourselves? Have we used them for the betterment of others? Have we used them for the betterment of our congregation? Have we used them for the betterment of the Church as a whole, or for the betterment of society? Have we concerned ourselves with living life to its fullest, or have we concerned ourselves with living life at its best?
Every one of us here is on the same journey, moving toward the same goal—or, at least, that is my hope. But though we are on the same road, we are not all walking at the same pace. Some are further behind, some are further ahead. Some are running at breakneck speed, and others—barely crawling. But the truth remains that none of us have reached the end just yet. And this means that each of us needs to be continuously striving to improve our character, so that we might live an upright life that is good and pleasing in the sight of our heavenly Father—a life that glorifies his name.
Delivered June 22, 2008 at Bethel and Brooks Chapel UMCs
Not long ago, I was flipping through the channels on my television when I came across a comedian that looked interesting—so I figured I would pause and give him a listen. He was not your run-of-the-mill stand-up comedian; he was playing his guitar and singing humorous songs—or, at least, songs that were supposed to be humorous.
Because, you see, while I did not find his lyrics terribly amusing—I did find them to be lewd and somewhat offensive. In fact, some of what he sang was downright dirty. And as I sat there with my mouth agape at what I was hearing, it was what I heard once he finished that really shocked me.
Acknowledging that his music was less-than-tasteful (and to be blunt, pretty immoral), he said, “I know I’m goin’ to hell for this.” The audience laughed. Then he said, “And I’ll see you all there!” How would you have reacted to such a statement? How would you expect them to have reacted? Instead of booing him or walking out, every one of them cheered—clapping their hands, shouting wildly, and whistling. Apparently, the thought of ending up in hell did not bother them. In fact, it looked to me like they were rather fond of the idea.
I turned the television off, and sat there stunned by what I had just witnessed. But as I thought about it, it began to make sense. The people who sat in that audience, and reacted so favorably to what that man had said, did so because of a lack of understanding about hell.
Now there are many concepts that people both inside and outside the Church struggle with, as far as grasping those ideas goes. And I think that is due, at least in part, to the Church of today glossing over certain topics because they are unpleasant to talk about; they make people uncomfortable. And after all, we want to make sure that everybody is happy—that is what keeps them coming on Sunday mornings, right?
Well I would challenge that view. I refuse to believe that the Church’s responsibility—our responsibility—is simply to make folks happy. I believe, rather, that it is our responsibility to make the Truth known and to see lives changed for the better. It is our responsibility to offer this world Jesus, that it might have both wholeness in this life and the hope of heaven in the life to come. It is our responsibility to make the love of God through Christ available to all.
But while that very notion—God’s love—is an undeniable and very important reality that everyone needs to be aware of, it is not the only facet of God’s character that needs to be taught. We like to hear about God’s mercy and graciousness and kindness, because it offers us a reprieve from the guilt we carry when faced with the fact that all have sinned and fallen short of his glory. It provides us with a measure of comfort to know that God is forgiving, patient, and lenient. But if we never turn the coin over and look at the other side—the side that reveals God’s wrath, anger, and judgment—we have watered down the Gospel to a state where it becomes ineffective. We no longer have a Gospel; what we have is a motivational speech.
For you see, while God is loving—God is also righteous. He is sovereign. And above all else, he is holy. And it is for this very reason that God cannot tolerate sin. Scripture tells us that God hates sin, and he will not dwell where it exists. The Bible also tells us that there is punishment for sin, and for living a life contrary to God’s will. There is punishment for denying God, and refusing to let him into your heart through his only begotten Son. This punishment is spoken of in the passage we read this morning. This punishment is called hell.
I suppose we ought first to establish the authenticity of hell, since there are those who question its existence. Even within the Church, there are some who hold fast to the belief that hell is nothing more than a “frame of mind”—that there is no real proof that it is an actual place.
To those people, I would refer them to the numerous biblical passages—like the one from Revelation—that refer to the souls of the wicked going to a physical destination where they will receive payment for their unrepentance. The Scriptures are brimming with chapters and verses that warn evildoers of what lies ahead if they do not turn from their ways. But apparently, what the Bible says is not good enough for some people.
Thus I would also submit such persons to the ancient languages of Hebrew and Greek, in which the Old and New Testaments, respectively, were written. In Hebrew, when talking of hell, find the word sheol—which means “underworld,” “grave,” or “pit.” To the Jews, this was thought of as the dwelling place of the dead; it was seen as a place of extreme degradation, from which there was no return. The Greek word, however, is geenna or gehenna. This derives from the Hebrew gey hinnom, or “valley of Hinnom.” The valley of Hinnom was located south of Jerusalem, and was the place where the filth and dead animals of the city were cast out and burned. It is easy to see, then, that this word—gehenna—is steeped in symbolism, and was a good choice for Jesus (and the New Testament authors) to use when speaking of the eternal punishment for the wicked. Another New Testament word that is used in reference to hell is hades; this word was originally meant to denote the name of the god of the nether regions (also called Pluto at times), but it later became used in a way similar to sheol—referring to “death” or “the grave.” With all of these various ways to speak of such a place and all the different names it has, does it not stand to reason that it must exist in some form?
But the thing that (to me) most clearly points to the reality of hell is the reality of heaven. If heaven exists—and again, the Bible clearly indicates that it does—then it stands to reason that its opposite exists as well. If there is a place where the souls of the faithful and just go to reap the fruits of their labors, then there must be a place where the unfaithful and unjust go to reap theirs.
As a side note, I find particularly vexing the doctrine of universalism—a doctrine running rampant in today’s western Christianity which states that, in the end, all beings will be saved. This belief starts from the conviction that a loving God cannot impose eternal punishment, and that eternal bliss cannot be complete while any are excluded. So then, this theory does not necessarily deny the existence of hell—but it does say, in a nutshell, that no one will go there. Why, then, does hell exist? I have yet to find anyone who can offer a satisfying answer to that question.
So what goes on in hell? I think some people have a terribly misguided idea that it is a big old party where everyone just does whatever they want, whenever they want. Perhaps that is why those people in my opening story cheered the comedian for what he said. But I assure you, the environment in hell is anything but a party atmosphere. Hell is a place of unending torment, where fires burn forever—yet all is utterly dark. The Bible tells us that hell is reserved not only for the wicked among us, but also for the devil and his angels, false prophets, and those who have denied the Gospel. It also alludes to the idea that there are degrees of punishment—that some will be chastised with greater severity than others.
Nonetheless, we have likely all seen images of hell that portray it as a place where demons poke at you with pitchforks and brand you with hot coals or irons; perhaps, in these images, you have also seen those being punished locked up or shackled—unable to go anywhere. While some of those descriptions are a tad unsettling—maybe even a bit scary—I have to believe they pale in comparison to what it is really like.
In hell, Scripture says, all we will hear is continuous moaning, wailing, and shrieking. Lost souls will weep bitterly as they clench their teeth. Flames will engulf the bodies of the ones who are there. The acrid stench of sulfur will fill the breezeless air, and the lake of fire will flow—preparing to swallow those cast into it. This sort of torture and wretchedness is made plain to us, and is certainly so severe that most shudder at the mere thought of it.
But what makes hell miserable and intolerable more than anything else is not what afflicts the body—but what afflicts the soul. For you see, the aspect of hell that makes it absolutely insufferable and impossible to endure is the fact that those who are there are forever separated from God. Once within the confines of hell, there is no second chance. There is no opportunity for appeal. God cannot hear you, and you cannot hear him. You are apart from him everlastingly, and can never draw near again. I have to be honest with you—this thought terrifies me. It terrifies me much more than any sort of physical torture and pain that is promised. The thought that I could never again call upon my heavenly Father—the thought that I would never see the blessed face of Jesus—frightens me beyond words.
There may be much I still do not understand about this life or what happens once it is over; I am still learning, and I have a long way to go. But one thing I do know: hell is real. It is not a figment of my imagination, or a negative thought pattern, or an adverse state of being in this present life. It is a place—a real place—set aside for the fearful, the unbelieving, the abominable, the murderers, the whoremongers, the sorcerers, the idolaters, and the liars. And I know this as well: no one—not you, nor me, nor anyone else who truly grasps the reality of hell—wants to end up there.
So how do you avoid it? The answer is simple. Turn to Jesus, trust in him, confess your wrongdoing, and cast off your old ways. Love God with all your being and other people more than yourself. And finally, do good at all times and in all places—even if it means going against the norm. Enlist yourself as a laborer for the Lord. The immediate pay might be lousy—but the benefits are out of this world.
So normally, I wouldn't use this space for a "movie review"--but I just finished watching one that I thought was pretty good and perhaps worth taking a look at (that is, if you like movies with a message that runs deeper than the surface).
Yesterday, I watched I Am Legend, a recent movie starring Will Smith. Smith plays a character named Dr. Robert Neville, who is somehow immune to an unstoppable and incurable virus. Now, he's the last human survivor in New York City--perhaps the world. Mutant plague victims lurk in the shadows--watching Neville's every move--waiting for him to make a fatal mistake. Neville, humankind's last and best hope, is driven by only one remaining mission: to find an antidote using his own immune blood.
While the acting was less than spectacular and the special effects were somewhat camp, I appreciated the religious subtexts that--to me--were quite apparent. Smith's character is portrayed as a "savior" of sorts, and the only one with the ability to save what is left of humanity from its fallen state.
In this, I see glimpses of the life and mission of Christ. The diseased monsters in New York represent humankind in its wicked and sinful state. The fact that Smith's character is the only one immune to the virus represents the sinlessness of Christ. And the concept that blood must be used to cure the disease--to me, it's obviously an acknowledgment of Jesus' blood being the only possible atonement for sin.
Now, other things occur in the film which take away from my Christ-centered theory--things which I won't divulge here, in case you choose to watch for yourself--but, in my mind, the over-arching message of the plot is a very powerful one. If you have eyes to see and ears to hear.
'Til next time,
Jason
