Our Christological Crisis
Sermon
Don't Forget This!
Second Lesson Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Last Third) Cycle C
Back in the mid to late 1980s, I was courted by a fledgling denomination. The salesman was a powerful ecclesiastical politician from the Midwest who had left our denomination along with many other disaffected churches and clergy. Their line was, "We didn't leave the denomination. The denomination left us." While I thought that was a nifty manipulation of language, their pitch through the pulpiteer to me was more direct. I was asked how I could remain in such an apostate church.
It was a serious charge. They were accusing our denomination of turning away from Biblical and Christological faith. Essentially, I was told we're going to hell.
After considerable prayer, reflection, and consultation, I asked rhetorically, "Why should I leave one stinking denomination for another stinking denomination?"
I have concluded for many years that every denomination has problems. Or as Paul concluded about everyone, "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (see Romans 3:23).
I think of the little fellow who said to his playmate, "My mommy says I can't go with you to church because we belong to different abominations."
Then there was the man lying on the side of the road after an accident who asked the policeman for a priest. Despite the large number of people at the scene of the accident, there wasn't a priest among them. Finally, a shy and slight man approached the policeman and said, "I'm not a priest or even a Christian for that matter. But I live behind Saint Gertrude's and I listen to their mass every Friday evening from my porch. Maybe I can help. I think I know how it goes." The policeman nodded, the volunteer went to the victim's side, and whispered into his ear, "B-93, G-74, I-76 ..."
Lest anyone accuse me of parochial prejudice, I must tell you the difference between Presbyterians and Mormons. After a Mormon knocks on the door, he has something to say!
The truth is I haven't seen or even heard of a denomination without an Achilles' heel. Every one of them has an underbelly.
Our part of the Kingdom admitted that in The Confession of 1967: "No one type of confession is exclusively valid, no one statement is irreformable. Obedience to Jesus Christ alone identifies the one universal church and supplies the continuity of its tradition."
In other words, when the roll is called up yonder, being a Methodist or Catholic or Lutheran or whatever won't warrant better accommodations. One denomination is no better nor worse than any other. When it comes to most parts of the Kingdom, it's simply a matter of style because the substance is essentially the same. And anyone who tries to tell you differently is trying to pump up attendance at the cost of authenticity. It's a cheap and deceptive way of attracting new members or keeping ones already in the ledger.
So I've decided to stay where I started.
Besides, I met Jesus in the Presbyterian Church, know the players, like the polity, endure the politics, and have over two decades of pension credits piled up.
That's not to say we don't have problems.
We often approach issues from every angle but the Bible's. We've got unconvinced laity (folks who don't know what they believe), pharisaical reincarnations (constitutional fundamentalists), and unconverted clergy (pastors who don't really believe what they occasionally say about the unique saving Lordship of Jesus). On top of that, we've got too many left-wingers and right-wingers hating everybody in a Christian kind of way.
But like most denominations, most of our members are friendly and faithful.
I can't say the same for those non-denominational groups that keep popping up around town.
I'm always a little suspicious of folks who become independent from traditional denominations. How can they sing about the tie that binds when they splinter off to do their own thing? Why did they break communion anyway? Why couldn't they work within the body? Who is really being apostate? And now that they're independent from the checks and balances of a denomination, who holds them accountable for worship, work, and witness? And before they claim accountability to God alone, wasn't that the same claim of Applewhite, Berg, Jones, Koresh, and Rossi, and the like?
Most non-denominational groups are cultic; gathering around and idolizing a particularly charismatic character. And while that person will predictably claim ambassadorship for God, she or he will usually accept the allegiance and affection due God alone; though sometimes struggling with John 3:30 ("He must increase, but I must decrease").
Regardless of stripe, there's a lesson for the whole church in this introduction of Lloyd Ogilvie, Chaplain of the United States Senate, before speaking:
This morning it is my profound pleasure to introduce to you an outstanding man of great eloquence and moral excellence. His ministry is unparalleled. He can walk on water and perform great wonders. His work has changed the world. He is a homiletical dynamo, the prince of pulpiteers, a sensational man of God whose spellbinding words will capture your attention instantly. His name is Jesus Christ, and here to introduce him is Lloyd Ogilvie.
Or as Gary Beets, Missouri State Director of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, has printed on the back of his calling card, "If we meet and you forget me, you have lost nothing. But if you meet Jesus Christ and forget him, you have lost everything."
That's who makes every denomination common and credible.
I recall Larry King asking Chuck Colson how he avoided personality getting in the way of ministry. He answered, "I tell people, 'Don't follow me! Follow Jesus!' "
Jesus is the church's one foundation.
The church is expected by God to say the things that Jesus would say and do the things that Jesus would do.
That's why so many Christians are wearing bracelets, necklaces, hats, ties, and all the rest with WWJD on them (viz., "What would Jesus do?")
If somebody asks the agenda of the church, the answer is a simple rhetorical question: "What would Jesus do?"
Why Jesus? Because He is Lord!
Biblically, Jesus in not like God. He is God! John explained, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ... And the Word became flesh and lived among us ... full of grace and truth" (see John 1). Paul declared, "He is the image of the invisible God ... for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created ... for in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell" (Colossians 1:15-20).
Confessionally, Jesus is not like God. He is God! The Nicene Creed put it succinctly and poignantly, Jesus is "God of God; Light of Light; Very God of Very God ... being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made."
All of the traditional denominations agree on the unique saving Lordship of Jesus.
But there's a Christological crisis in today's church. Jesus isn't who he used to be in the church anymore.
One of my favorite stories is about the pastor who asked during a children's sermon, "When I say frog, what is the first word that comes to your mind?" One little boy blurted out, "Jesus!" The puzzled pastor asked, "Why do you think about Jesus when I say frog." The little boy replied, "Because I know you didn't call us down here to talk about frogs."
Unfortunately, some pewsitters and pulpiteers talk more about frogs than Jesus.
Here's the test. When faced by tough or even easy issues, have you ever heard anyone ask, "What would Jesus do?"
Does that question ever come up when talking about finances or human sexuality or politics or abortion or capital punishment or euthanasia or welfare or daycare or...?
Think about it. Is Jesus our governor? Does the world or even the church turn on the example of Jesus? We know the answer. And that's why there is a Christological crisis in today's church.
It's odd for the church to be in this crisis. Not only is the church named after him, but all of the traditional denominations require their members and clergy to affirm the unique saving Lordship of Jesus Christ.
So if you've got a member or officer or pastor with low or no Christology, she or he has had a change of mind, didn't understand the question, lied, or has too many pension credits piled up to do the honorable thing and resign.
The truth is the traditional denominations continue to struggle with just about every philosophical and theological issue but Christology.
If the common denominator of Christology is removed, there is no church. Without Jesus as the foundation of the church's worship, work, and witness, denominations step off rock into quicksand.
That's why the traditional denominations have been so insistent on a clear confession of Jesus as Lord and Savior.
And that's why a few parts of the Kingdom are in crisis.
Melissa Hinnebusch just told me another story. It's about a big church which was packed to the rafters one Sunday morning.
During the middle of the sermon, two men burst into the church. One took position at the chancel steps while the other stationed himself just inside the sanctuary near the narthex. From under their long coats, they pulled out automatic weapons and announced, "Everyone who is willing to take a bullet for your Lord Jesus remain seated."
In a swift feet-do-your-duty motion, the sanctuary cleared out in seconds.
Only about 25 saints stayed.
Then the gunmen dropped their weapons, sat in a pew, and said to an older elder, "Now that the hypocrites are gone, you may begin the service."
Jesus said, "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (see Matthew 10:34-39).
Saving Private Ryan, a major motion picture based on a novel by Max Allan Collins and directed by Steven Spielberg, is helping us to appreciate the courage and sacrifice of so many Americans during World War II. While critics complain that the movie is too graphic in its depiction of what actually happened during the war, I'd rather know the truth and deal with it. I want to be reminded why our veterans deserve so much respect and gratitude.
Specifically, it's about Captain John Miller and his squad of young soldiers who are sent to find and retrieve Private James Ryan whose three brothers had died in action (two on Normandy beaches and one in New Guinea). General George Marshall himself ordered the rescue mission from his Army Chief of Staff office in the Pentagon. He said, "If that boy is alive, we're going to send somebody to find him ... and get him the hell out of there." He figured three sons were enough for Mrs. Ryan. And then he read a letter to convince a few assistants who protested the risks of sending so many men to rescue one young private. "I have a letter here, written some time ago, to a Mrs. Bixby in Boston," the General said in introducing the letter, "if you'll bear with me." He put on his glasses and began,
Dear Madam,
I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they have died to save.
I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
Yours very sincerely and respectfully,
Abraham Lincoln
While the mission is a success, only two soldiers in the rescue squad survive. And so Captain Miller draws his last breath before succumbing to a fatal wound, he looks up at Private James Ryan, the man they had come to save and saved, and softly says, "Earn this." "Sir?" the private asks. And the captain repeats firmly in the form of an order, "Earn this!"
"Earn this!"
They were Captain John Miller's last words to Private James Ryan.
Many years later, James Ryan, a happily married grandfather at 74 years of memories, drops to his knees before the tomb of Captain John Miller and cries:
Not a day goes by I don't think about what happened ... About what we did, and what you said to me. And I just want you to know ... I've tried. Tried to live my life the best I could. I hope that's enough. I didn't invent anything. I didn't cure any diseases. I worked a farm. I raised a family. I lived a life. I only hope, in your eyes at least, I earned what you did for me.
Look at the cross. Really look at the cross. Obviously, a sacrifice so great cannot be earned. But a little more effort wouldn't hurt. Don't forget this. Don't forget Christ.
It was a serious charge. They were accusing our denomination of turning away from Biblical and Christological faith. Essentially, I was told we're going to hell.
After considerable prayer, reflection, and consultation, I asked rhetorically, "Why should I leave one stinking denomination for another stinking denomination?"
I have concluded for many years that every denomination has problems. Or as Paul concluded about everyone, "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (see Romans 3:23).
I think of the little fellow who said to his playmate, "My mommy says I can't go with you to church because we belong to different abominations."
Then there was the man lying on the side of the road after an accident who asked the policeman for a priest. Despite the large number of people at the scene of the accident, there wasn't a priest among them. Finally, a shy and slight man approached the policeman and said, "I'm not a priest or even a Christian for that matter. But I live behind Saint Gertrude's and I listen to their mass every Friday evening from my porch. Maybe I can help. I think I know how it goes." The policeman nodded, the volunteer went to the victim's side, and whispered into his ear, "B-93, G-74, I-76 ..."
Lest anyone accuse me of parochial prejudice, I must tell you the difference between Presbyterians and Mormons. After a Mormon knocks on the door, he has something to say!
The truth is I haven't seen or even heard of a denomination without an Achilles' heel. Every one of them has an underbelly.
Our part of the Kingdom admitted that in The Confession of 1967: "No one type of confession is exclusively valid, no one statement is irreformable. Obedience to Jesus Christ alone identifies the one universal church and supplies the continuity of its tradition."
In other words, when the roll is called up yonder, being a Methodist or Catholic or Lutheran or whatever won't warrant better accommodations. One denomination is no better nor worse than any other. When it comes to most parts of the Kingdom, it's simply a matter of style because the substance is essentially the same. And anyone who tries to tell you differently is trying to pump up attendance at the cost of authenticity. It's a cheap and deceptive way of attracting new members or keeping ones already in the ledger.
So I've decided to stay where I started.
Besides, I met Jesus in the Presbyterian Church, know the players, like the polity, endure the politics, and have over two decades of pension credits piled up.
That's not to say we don't have problems.
We often approach issues from every angle but the Bible's. We've got unconvinced laity (folks who don't know what they believe), pharisaical reincarnations (constitutional fundamentalists), and unconverted clergy (pastors who don't really believe what they occasionally say about the unique saving Lordship of Jesus). On top of that, we've got too many left-wingers and right-wingers hating everybody in a Christian kind of way.
But like most denominations, most of our members are friendly and faithful.
I can't say the same for those non-denominational groups that keep popping up around town.
I'm always a little suspicious of folks who become independent from traditional denominations. How can they sing about the tie that binds when they splinter off to do their own thing? Why did they break communion anyway? Why couldn't they work within the body? Who is really being apostate? And now that they're independent from the checks and balances of a denomination, who holds them accountable for worship, work, and witness? And before they claim accountability to God alone, wasn't that the same claim of Applewhite, Berg, Jones, Koresh, and Rossi, and the like?
Most non-denominational groups are cultic; gathering around and idolizing a particularly charismatic character. And while that person will predictably claim ambassadorship for God, she or he will usually accept the allegiance and affection due God alone; though sometimes struggling with John 3:30 ("He must increase, but I must decrease").
Regardless of stripe, there's a lesson for the whole church in this introduction of Lloyd Ogilvie, Chaplain of the United States Senate, before speaking:
This morning it is my profound pleasure to introduce to you an outstanding man of great eloquence and moral excellence. His ministry is unparalleled. He can walk on water and perform great wonders. His work has changed the world. He is a homiletical dynamo, the prince of pulpiteers, a sensational man of God whose spellbinding words will capture your attention instantly. His name is Jesus Christ, and here to introduce him is Lloyd Ogilvie.
Or as Gary Beets, Missouri State Director of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, has printed on the back of his calling card, "If we meet and you forget me, you have lost nothing. But if you meet Jesus Christ and forget him, you have lost everything."
That's who makes every denomination common and credible.
I recall Larry King asking Chuck Colson how he avoided personality getting in the way of ministry. He answered, "I tell people, 'Don't follow me! Follow Jesus!' "
Jesus is the church's one foundation.
The church is expected by God to say the things that Jesus would say and do the things that Jesus would do.
That's why so many Christians are wearing bracelets, necklaces, hats, ties, and all the rest with WWJD on them (viz., "What would Jesus do?")
If somebody asks the agenda of the church, the answer is a simple rhetorical question: "What would Jesus do?"
Why Jesus? Because He is Lord!
Biblically, Jesus in not like God. He is God! John explained, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God ... And the Word became flesh and lived among us ... full of grace and truth" (see John 1). Paul declared, "He is the image of the invisible God ... for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created ... for in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell" (Colossians 1:15-20).
Confessionally, Jesus is not like God. He is God! The Nicene Creed put it succinctly and poignantly, Jesus is "God of God; Light of Light; Very God of Very God ... being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made."
All of the traditional denominations agree on the unique saving Lordship of Jesus.
But there's a Christological crisis in today's church. Jesus isn't who he used to be in the church anymore.
One of my favorite stories is about the pastor who asked during a children's sermon, "When I say frog, what is the first word that comes to your mind?" One little boy blurted out, "Jesus!" The puzzled pastor asked, "Why do you think about Jesus when I say frog." The little boy replied, "Because I know you didn't call us down here to talk about frogs."
Unfortunately, some pewsitters and pulpiteers talk more about frogs than Jesus.
Here's the test. When faced by tough or even easy issues, have you ever heard anyone ask, "What would Jesus do?"
Does that question ever come up when talking about finances or human sexuality or politics or abortion or capital punishment or euthanasia or welfare or daycare or...?
Think about it. Is Jesus our governor? Does the world or even the church turn on the example of Jesus? We know the answer. And that's why there is a Christological crisis in today's church.
It's odd for the church to be in this crisis. Not only is the church named after him, but all of the traditional denominations require their members and clergy to affirm the unique saving Lordship of Jesus Christ.
So if you've got a member or officer or pastor with low or no Christology, she or he has had a change of mind, didn't understand the question, lied, or has too many pension credits piled up to do the honorable thing and resign.
The truth is the traditional denominations continue to struggle with just about every philosophical and theological issue but Christology.
If the common denominator of Christology is removed, there is no church. Without Jesus as the foundation of the church's worship, work, and witness, denominations step off rock into quicksand.
That's why the traditional denominations have been so insistent on a clear confession of Jesus as Lord and Savior.
And that's why a few parts of the Kingdom are in crisis.
Melissa Hinnebusch just told me another story. It's about a big church which was packed to the rafters one Sunday morning.
During the middle of the sermon, two men burst into the church. One took position at the chancel steps while the other stationed himself just inside the sanctuary near the narthex. From under their long coats, they pulled out automatic weapons and announced, "Everyone who is willing to take a bullet for your Lord Jesus remain seated."
In a swift feet-do-your-duty motion, the sanctuary cleared out in seconds.
Only about 25 saints stayed.
Then the gunmen dropped their weapons, sat in a pew, and said to an older elder, "Now that the hypocrites are gone, you may begin the service."
Jesus said, "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (see Matthew 10:34-39).
Saving Private Ryan, a major motion picture based on a novel by Max Allan Collins and directed by Steven Spielberg, is helping us to appreciate the courage and sacrifice of so many Americans during World War II. While critics complain that the movie is too graphic in its depiction of what actually happened during the war, I'd rather know the truth and deal with it. I want to be reminded why our veterans deserve so much respect and gratitude.
Specifically, it's about Captain John Miller and his squad of young soldiers who are sent to find and retrieve Private James Ryan whose three brothers had died in action (two on Normandy beaches and one in New Guinea). General George Marshall himself ordered the rescue mission from his Army Chief of Staff office in the Pentagon. He said, "If that boy is alive, we're going to send somebody to find him ... and get him the hell out of there." He figured three sons were enough for Mrs. Ryan. And then he read a letter to convince a few assistants who protested the risks of sending so many men to rescue one young private. "I have a letter here, written some time ago, to a Mrs. Bixby in Boston," the General said in introducing the letter, "if you'll bear with me." He put on his glasses and began,
Dear Madam,
I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they have died to save.
I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.
Yours very sincerely and respectfully,
Abraham Lincoln
While the mission is a success, only two soldiers in the rescue squad survive. And so Captain Miller draws his last breath before succumbing to a fatal wound, he looks up at Private James Ryan, the man they had come to save and saved, and softly says, "Earn this." "Sir?" the private asks. And the captain repeats firmly in the form of an order, "Earn this!"
"Earn this!"
They were Captain John Miller's last words to Private James Ryan.
Many years later, James Ryan, a happily married grandfather at 74 years of memories, drops to his knees before the tomb of Captain John Miller and cries:
Not a day goes by I don't think about what happened ... About what we did, and what you said to me. And I just want you to know ... I've tried. Tried to live my life the best I could. I hope that's enough. I didn't invent anything. I didn't cure any diseases. I worked a farm. I raised a family. I lived a life. I only hope, in your eyes at least, I earned what you did for me.
Look at the cross. Really look at the cross. Obviously, a sacrifice so great cannot be earned. But a little more effort wouldn't hurt. Don't forget this. Don't forget Christ.
