That's the Way Life Really Is!
Sermon
THE POWER OF DARKNESS
SERMONS FOR LENT AND EASTER (SUNDAYS IN ORDINARY TIME)
Some time ago the Evening News pictured the dramatic action and interaction among a group of teenagers who were suffering with incurable cancer. The fact that they who were being filmed and interviewed are now dead, made the story even more compelling and powerful. In one interchange the conversation went something like this.
Young woman to young man: "What's the first thing you are going to do when you get to heaven?"
Young man: "I'm going to ask God why he put me through so much trouble and then I am going to punch him in the nose!"
Contrast that scene with the commercial that puts you on a beautiful beach in front of a boiling pot of lobsters with a can of beer in your hand and saying, "It don't get no better than this."
Have you ever been tempted to chuck this whole Christian business? If you made a decision today, to no longer be a Christian, what changes would take place in your life? Would tomorrow be much different than other Mondays? What about next week or next year? One thing that would be different for me is that I would lose my job. For those who teach at a Seminary, or serve a parish, there is that added incentive to believe!
But if we decided there wasn't anything to this "God-business" any more, would the only discernible change be that (1) we wouldn't have to get up on Sunday morning and that (2) we would have a little more money to spend on other things.
Do things go better with Christ? Can we point to specific Christian results?
Jesus had just been baptised. There is mystery surrounding the reason for Jesus' baptism, but it was a significant event because it marked the beginning of his ministry. Most of us understand it as a kind of commissioning or ordaining service where Jesus received the promise, "You are my beloved son in whom I am well pleased."
But the first result of that promise is trouble! And just when things were beginning to fall into place and coming together; just when that which he had been preparing for - his messianic ministry to God's people - at this significant moment the same Spirit who called him "beloved" ordered him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. "And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit for forty days in the wilderness, tempted by the devil." (vv. 1-2) This doesn't read like the beginning of a three-act play which sets us up for the inevitable happy ending. As Israel, the "old Son of God" was tested through forty years of wilderness wandering, so also there is struggle for Jesus Christ, the new Son of God.
Struggle it is! The "tempting" going on here is something more than taking a forbidden trip to the local tavern or sneaking a look at some dirty pictures. What is going on here is not so much enticement to sin as it is a struggle, a confrontation - a test to reveal what a person is made of. It is a test engineered by the prince of darkness, the ruler of organized evil. And it takes place in the wilderness. The wilderness is not just a pleasant place to take canoe trips. It is not a vacation spot, but rather a place of contrasts: rich fertile soil made barren through the lack of moisture; burning sun in the daytime and bitter cold at night. It is not the kind of place you go to "get away." Jesus is tested in the place of loneliness, fear and danger. He doesn't get to enjoy or savor the experience and promise of his baptism. He goes from the mountaintop on Sunday to the wilderness on Monday.
Is this perhaps a one-shot test? Is it a temporary test, on-the-job-training that will lead to a promotion and better things? Sorry! The concluding verse gives us little comfort: "And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time." We know that immediately following this wilderness experience, Jesus went to his home town to preach and to witness and it nearly cost him his life. For Jesus, testing is followed by more testing.
In 1972, Kent Knutson, who was then President of the American Lutheran Church, was one of the "centennial-celebration" preachers at the church where I was pastor. In his fine sermon on that warm summer morning he shared this personal story:
On the Saturday before Easter land my family got up early to visit my mother who lives in a small town in Iowa. She is eighty-two years old. She is in ill health. We expect that she will die soon. For this she is quite ready. In reality the Knutson family went to see her to say their good-byes. While we were visiting with her we received the sad news that my sister's young son had a terminal illness. That was some very sad news that had to be shared. Late that evening we returned to Minneapolis. It had been an emotional day for us. The next day was Easter. That was a great day for the entire Knutson family. Early on Monday morning we took our daughter to the bus so she could return to Luther College. At 1:00 p.m. the call came. The bus had overturned and some of the students were injured and several had been killed. At first we thought it was our daughter who had been killed in that tragic accident. But within a few hours she was able to get to a phone to assure us that she was all right.
Kent Knutson concluded this personal story with this insightful observation: "And that's the way life really is!" On December of that year, our congregation brought its centennial celebration to a close in a moving, festive service. During that combined, eventful service taped excerpts were played from previous Sunday services. Once again were heard Kent Knutson's ringing words, "And that's the way life really is!" But when we heard them this time, he was fighting for his life in a Rochester hospital.
"That's the way life really is!"
It makes a wonder about this "Christian business." There seems to be a considerable gap between expectations and experiences. The older I get, the wider the gap. Now every physical examination threatens to become a kind of wilderness experience. "Is the Lord among us or is he not?" The people asked that of Moses as one thing after another was happening to them. There, again, is the popular but persistent bottom-line question: should not our faith in God have its payoff?
I would like to suggest that this story, of the testing of Jesus, is our story too; that, indeed, this is really the way "life really is" and that means the Christian life. There is that therapeutic approach whereby we tend to adapt, ignore or explain away the tragedies that happen around us or to us. Hans Kung, the popular and well-known Catholic theologian, writes these words: "Here we are at the very roots of the question of being human and being Christian; coping with the negative side of life is the acid test of the Christian faith."1
To be human is to be tested. The Bible is a book of testing from beginning to end. It begins with the test in the Garden of Eden and ends with the great hour of tribulation. As already noted, this was the experience of our Lord. There were exultation and struggle, mountains followed by their valleys. This is the rhythm of real living. "Sometimes I'm up and sometimes I'm down." The old Negro spiritual tells it ike it really is: "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, nobody knows but Jesus."
If this story of Jesus' testing means anything, it means we dare not put God to the test, which means we live by God's promises and not his guarantees. Implicit in all three of Jesus' tests was the fundamental basic temptation to become the kind of Messiah everyone could easily recognize. So life does not become for the believer a kind of supermarket where we can get anything we want. That would be to live by "bread alone."
It would mean keeping a Christian "scorecard" which, when added up, proves that it pays to be a Christian. It sounds unAmerican, but I would suggest that this year, as we once again make our way to Easter, it would be well for us to examine our tendencies to overmagnify the power and bliss of our faith. Do we tend to claim for it more than is true - maybe even more than it can deliver? It might be well for preachers to be reminded of the danger of over-promising in reference to Spirit results. We remain saint and sinner, a combination of the old and new "Adam," dealing not only with the power of grace but also of sin. In the Bible, as well as in life, there is a "modesty" about the power of the Gospel we should see and heed.
This also means there are no easy solutions to some of the problems we face today. How do you think Jesus would respond to the manufacture of nuclear bombs? What kind of stand would he have made on the Viet Nam War? Would he come out for censorship in regard to pornographic material? This is not a call to avoid these issues. Certainly some stumbling, confusion, disagreement, and frustration should be anticipated as we attempt to discover Godpleasing solutions.
We are being tested. Christians are tested. Tests are not always comfortable or comforting. But they are useful. They reveal what we are made of. In our text they revealed a Jesus Christ who resisted shortcuts to a popular ministry and remained faithful to the promises of God.
He came to be tested, not to put God to the test, and his ultimate test was death upon the cross. Here the testing of our Lord is finished. The great victory has been won. Never again can the evil one test Christ as in the wilderness. Jesus is now the living Lord. But we know that for us the testing is not over. Evil remains. The struggle between flesh and spirit goes on. But in our text, every time Jesus was tested, he came through by using the sword of the Spirit which was the Word of God.
Here is our power. God, through his Word, does not insure faith, but he enables it - he makes it possible. "We have a high priest who can sympathize with our weaknesses. He has been tested in many respects as we have, yet without sinning." (Hebrews 4:15) Yes, we live in a world of struggle, suffering and sin. "That is the way life really is." But we have Christ with us, because we have the Word with us. It is the Word which carries this great promise in all our testing: "Let my grace be sufficient to you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness."
Let us Pray:
There are varying pathways
Of sunshine and shade.
All of it grace,
Be not afraid.
Amen
1. Hans Kung, On Being a Christian, (New York, Doubleday and Company, 1974), p. 571.
Young woman to young man: "What's the first thing you are going to do when you get to heaven?"
Young man: "I'm going to ask God why he put me through so much trouble and then I am going to punch him in the nose!"
Contrast that scene with the commercial that puts you on a beautiful beach in front of a boiling pot of lobsters with a can of beer in your hand and saying, "It don't get no better than this."
Have you ever been tempted to chuck this whole Christian business? If you made a decision today, to no longer be a Christian, what changes would take place in your life? Would tomorrow be much different than other Mondays? What about next week or next year? One thing that would be different for me is that I would lose my job. For those who teach at a Seminary, or serve a parish, there is that added incentive to believe!
But if we decided there wasn't anything to this "God-business" any more, would the only discernible change be that (1) we wouldn't have to get up on Sunday morning and that (2) we would have a little more money to spend on other things.
Do things go better with Christ? Can we point to specific Christian results?
Jesus had just been baptised. There is mystery surrounding the reason for Jesus' baptism, but it was a significant event because it marked the beginning of his ministry. Most of us understand it as a kind of commissioning or ordaining service where Jesus received the promise, "You are my beloved son in whom I am well pleased."
But the first result of that promise is trouble! And just when things were beginning to fall into place and coming together; just when that which he had been preparing for - his messianic ministry to God's people - at this significant moment the same Spirit who called him "beloved" ordered him into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. "And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit for forty days in the wilderness, tempted by the devil." (vv. 1-2) This doesn't read like the beginning of a three-act play which sets us up for the inevitable happy ending. As Israel, the "old Son of God" was tested through forty years of wilderness wandering, so also there is struggle for Jesus Christ, the new Son of God.
Struggle it is! The "tempting" going on here is something more than taking a forbidden trip to the local tavern or sneaking a look at some dirty pictures. What is going on here is not so much enticement to sin as it is a struggle, a confrontation - a test to reveal what a person is made of. It is a test engineered by the prince of darkness, the ruler of organized evil. And it takes place in the wilderness. The wilderness is not just a pleasant place to take canoe trips. It is not a vacation spot, but rather a place of contrasts: rich fertile soil made barren through the lack of moisture; burning sun in the daytime and bitter cold at night. It is not the kind of place you go to "get away." Jesus is tested in the place of loneliness, fear and danger. He doesn't get to enjoy or savor the experience and promise of his baptism. He goes from the mountaintop on Sunday to the wilderness on Monday.
Is this perhaps a one-shot test? Is it a temporary test, on-the-job-training that will lead to a promotion and better things? Sorry! The concluding verse gives us little comfort: "And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time." We know that immediately following this wilderness experience, Jesus went to his home town to preach and to witness and it nearly cost him his life. For Jesus, testing is followed by more testing.
In 1972, Kent Knutson, who was then President of the American Lutheran Church, was one of the "centennial-celebration" preachers at the church where I was pastor. In his fine sermon on that warm summer morning he shared this personal story:
On the Saturday before Easter land my family got up early to visit my mother who lives in a small town in Iowa. She is eighty-two years old. She is in ill health. We expect that she will die soon. For this she is quite ready. In reality the Knutson family went to see her to say their good-byes. While we were visiting with her we received the sad news that my sister's young son had a terminal illness. That was some very sad news that had to be shared. Late that evening we returned to Minneapolis. It had been an emotional day for us. The next day was Easter. That was a great day for the entire Knutson family. Early on Monday morning we took our daughter to the bus so she could return to Luther College. At 1:00 p.m. the call came. The bus had overturned and some of the students were injured and several had been killed. At first we thought it was our daughter who had been killed in that tragic accident. But within a few hours she was able to get to a phone to assure us that she was all right.
Kent Knutson concluded this personal story with this insightful observation: "And that's the way life really is!" On December of that year, our congregation brought its centennial celebration to a close in a moving, festive service. During that combined, eventful service taped excerpts were played from previous Sunday services. Once again were heard Kent Knutson's ringing words, "And that's the way life really is!" But when we heard them this time, he was fighting for his life in a Rochester hospital.
"That's the way life really is!"
It makes a wonder about this "Christian business." There seems to be a considerable gap between expectations and experiences. The older I get, the wider the gap. Now every physical examination threatens to become a kind of wilderness experience. "Is the Lord among us or is he not?" The people asked that of Moses as one thing after another was happening to them. There, again, is the popular but persistent bottom-line question: should not our faith in God have its payoff?
I would like to suggest that this story, of the testing of Jesus, is our story too; that, indeed, this is really the way "life really is" and that means the Christian life. There is that therapeutic approach whereby we tend to adapt, ignore or explain away the tragedies that happen around us or to us. Hans Kung, the popular and well-known Catholic theologian, writes these words: "Here we are at the very roots of the question of being human and being Christian; coping with the negative side of life is the acid test of the Christian faith."1
To be human is to be tested. The Bible is a book of testing from beginning to end. It begins with the test in the Garden of Eden and ends with the great hour of tribulation. As already noted, this was the experience of our Lord. There were exultation and struggle, mountains followed by their valleys. This is the rhythm of real living. "Sometimes I'm up and sometimes I'm down." The old Negro spiritual tells it ike it really is: "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, nobody knows but Jesus."
If this story of Jesus' testing means anything, it means we dare not put God to the test, which means we live by God's promises and not his guarantees. Implicit in all three of Jesus' tests was the fundamental basic temptation to become the kind of Messiah everyone could easily recognize. So life does not become for the believer a kind of supermarket where we can get anything we want. That would be to live by "bread alone."
It would mean keeping a Christian "scorecard" which, when added up, proves that it pays to be a Christian. It sounds unAmerican, but I would suggest that this year, as we once again make our way to Easter, it would be well for us to examine our tendencies to overmagnify the power and bliss of our faith. Do we tend to claim for it more than is true - maybe even more than it can deliver? It might be well for preachers to be reminded of the danger of over-promising in reference to Spirit results. We remain saint and sinner, a combination of the old and new "Adam," dealing not only with the power of grace but also of sin. In the Bible, as well as in life, there is a "modesty" about the power of the Gospel we should see and heed.
This also means there are no easy solutions to some of the problems we face today. How do you think Jesus would respond to the manufacture of nuclear bombs? What kind of stand would he have made on the Viet Nam War? Would he come out for censorship in regard to pornographic material? This is not a call to avoid these issues. Certainly some stumbling, confusion, disagreement, and frustration should be anticipated as we attempt to discover Godpleasing solutions.
We are being tested. Christians are tested. Tests are not always comfortable or comforting. But they are useful. They reveal what we are made of. In our text they revealed a Jesus Christ who resisted shortcuts to a popular ministry and remained faithful to the promises of God.
He came to be tested, not to put God to the test, and his ultimate test was death upon the cross. Here the testing of our Lord is finished. The great victory has been won. Never again can the evil one test Christ as in the wilderness. Jesus is now the living Lord. But we know that for us the testing is not over. Evil remains. The struggle between flesh and spirit goes on. But in our text, every time Jesus was tested, he came through by using the sword of the Spirit which was the Word of God.
Here is our power. God, through his Word, does not insure faith, but he enables it - he makes it possible. "We have a high priest who can sympathize with our weaknesses. He has been tested in many respects as we have, yet without sinning." (Hebrews 4:15) Yes, we live in a world of struggle, suffering and sin. "That is the way life really is." But we have Christ with us, because we have the Word with us. It is the Word which carries this great promise in all our testing: "Let my grace be sufficient to you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness."
Let us Pray:
There are varying pathways
Of sunshine and shade.
All of it grace,
Be not afraid.
Amen
1. Hans Kung, On Being a Christian, (New York, Doubleday and Company, 1974), p. 571.
