Good morning. Yesterday we finished reading through Luke. I had considered just plowing straight into John, but I will be gone most of next week at a conference in St. Louis. For that reason, we will first start reading through John on Monday, May 9th. I am sorry for the delay.

I am greatful for everyone who continues this journey through Scripture.

Have a blessed weekend,
Pastor Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 24 (click here for link)

I can remember Mary—at least I think that was her name. She was a woman who lived sometimes near the church where I did field work back in St. Louis. I really didn’t know much about her. She could be seen occasionally, crossing the street opposite the church, drinking from a paper bag. Like so many in her situation, her purpose in life—her presence—was reduced to a shadow figure, one who didn’t seem to have much left to live for. She was a shell of a woman—haggard and angry. In fact, woman… man… the classification didn’t really matter. She was like any of the others you sometimes see, but don’t always really see.

I had the opportunity to speak with her once. I wish the conversation had been better. It was after the service on Easter morning, a morning full of proclamation about resurrection hope and new life. My wife and I were loading the kids into the mini-van. We were anticipating a day full of Easter festivities spent with friends. But suddenly I had that distinct feeling that someone was looking over my shoulder. It was Mary. She had come up behind us, right behind us. There we stood, practically face to face. I don’t think there could have been a better picture of opposites. We seemed almost worlds apart. Me and my family, full of life, in our picture-perfect, Sunday morning best, and then Mary, pushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, a dry, snarled expression on her face, and a paper bag in her hand. It was true, up close and personal she appeared a dried- out shell of a person—nothing but dry bones—and you could smell her too, the alcohol on her breath. She wanted a ride somewhere. With numerous racial slurs and profanity, she tried to describe the location. Naturally, the seminary student in me wanted to comply (Christian love, right?), but every shred of common sense screamed otherwise. After all, I couldn’t have her sit between the car seats of my 15 month old and our 4 month old. If I hadn’t refused, my wife would have! And so that is what we did, politely, of course. But that is when she stabbed her finger at us and yelled the most startling thing, “What good is your Jesus anyway?”

I know she may have just been goading me, but I felt so helpless, so useless. She seemed so hopeless and empty. It was like a little nightmare of my own. You spend your whole life living out the Christian faith—at least that is what you think—but then you end up in a situation like this. Where is Christian hope in a situation like this? How do you help someone like her? And what about that question? To be honest, I found myself wondering, Could “my” Jesus help her?

I am sure you’ve all had similar experiences, the type of situation where you want to say something nice, something that will make it all better. It is the type of situation where you know you are supposed to give a Christian witness, yet at the same time you are all to keenly aware that anything you might say would only smack of hypocrisy because, after all, there you are standing in your Sunday best next to your new mini-van with dinner waiting in the oven; and across from you is Mary, lacking everything you have. It is hard to make nice of that situation. This world sometimes seems so filled with hopelessness.

Yes, we talk up the resurrection whenever we get a chance, as Christians, but have you ever felt (though you probably wouldn’t admit it) that even though Jesus has risen from the dead and ascended into heaven, the world really doesn’t seem that changed? From our text, it seems like that was the natural reaction of those first resurrection witnesses—huddled together in a locked room. It was business as usual—the same war crimes and atrocities were happening; diseases and poverty were still there, stress from work and the struggles of marriage and parenthood and relationships—all of it was still there. No doubt the world would have bought into Mary’s question, “What good is your Jesus anyway?”

But then, the resurrected Lord appeared, and everything changed! “Peace be with you,” he said. And from that moment forward, a power so great swelled in that room and in the ages beyond, which can still be felt today, 2000 years later. Resurrection power! God’s power of life even wake of death and hopelessness and despair. This power has been the driving force of the Church on earth through the millennia and has never given up its testimony and witness of the resurrection.

New life! New life is at hand! “Peace be with you.” It has the power to change even the most hopeless situations in this world. And if you don’t believe me… well… let me tell you just a little bit more about Mary. You see, the last time I saw her; she was eating soup in the basement of the church. The Youth were serving dinner before the Wednesday evening service. But this time, Mary wasn’t sitting alone. She wasn’t stabbing her finger at anybody, questioning their Jesus. She was smiling! She was talking! She didn’t seem dry anymore. She seemed more alive than I had ever seen her. It was miraculous!

Unfortunately, I have never learned exactly how this miracle happened, but I know one thing for sure, that even when I was left feeling hopeless and useless as Mary walked away on that Easter morning, the Holy Spirit had resurrection in mind. You see, resurrection is more than just something that is preached about in sermons. It is more than just a vague and future hope. No. Resurrection is the power of God, in the here and now. Resurrection is the power of God in midst of dry bones. I pray the next time I meet someone like Mary, I see them through the eyes of resurrection hope.

Have a blessed day,
Pastor Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 23 (click here for link)

As Jesus' life slipped from him on the cross, a criminal asked him, "Remember me." It was a request that darkness would not overcome him. Obviously, the criminal believed that Jesus could answer the prayer. And because he believed, Jesus promised him "paradise". The promise wasn't a “maybe” in the future, but an immediate place in the resurrection - hid in Christ now and alive with him in eternity.

Far too often, the gospel is presented in complex terms when it is actually a very simple message. God offers us eternity in his presence through Jesus.

Perhaps we should reverse these words more often in our own lives. Yes “Lord, remember me…” but also, “Lord, I remember you.” Don’t let the gracious gift of Jesus’ love for you slip from your thoughts today. Remember that he remembers you.
“Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” The answer is, “Today…” Today, and forever you are hid with Christ in the resurrection. Hallelujah!

Today’s reading is Luke 22 (click here for link).

“And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, "Pray that you may not enter into temptation." And he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” Luke 22:39-44

Jesus' prayer reminds me of another prayer prayed by a struggling apostle in throws of uncertainty and anguish: The apostle Paul wrote: “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:7-9

Have you ever had an earnest prayer go unanswered? … a prayer cried out in those moments of life when life and death seemed to hang in the balance, but God’s will was against your own?

It takes a mighty faith to endure coming up against the holy will of almighty God and discovering it is not in accord with your own; to find that your vein of payer is perpendicular to the inscrutable hand of God. But mettle must be tested. The perseverance of faith is either always sharpened or always dulled upon that stone of experience.

Don’t dare utter the words, “I live my life for the Glory of God,” unless you mean it… unless you are ready to truly “feel” it. He may hold you to your words! God’s greatest glory is always revealed in human weakness. The cross of Christ is proof enough of that.

To be saved by grace is to abandon all that we see as strength and cling to the weakness of Jesus Christ, crucified but raised in power and glory for us… for you….

*****

I wrote the above words last night as I sleepily meditated upon Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. This morning, at our staff meeting, Pastor Jon opened with a question concerning the difference between “Vision” and “Mission” in the Church and in the Christian’s life. Indeed, there is a distinction. We so easily get caught up in the “mission work” (doing things) that perhaps we lose sight of the vision of inspiration that came over us once upon a time ago. The true vision of the Christian life is realization of complete abandon to divine grace. That God so loved “me” that he gave his only begotten Son. Wow!!!

Grace empowers us to do all things good and right, but in the experience, we realize our weakness all the more and find our strength in the power of grace made perfect in us through Christ, alone.

How has he given you strength in the weaknesses of your life?
Pastor Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 21 (click here for link).

We’ve discussed similar texts before on this blog—the parallel texts, Matthew 24 and Mark 13. All of them record these “end time” predictions that Jesus made shortly before his crucifixion. But what exactly is the “end” he is predicting?

Blended together here are two endings separated by 2000 years of time and still counting. The first end was 7O A.D. when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem and permanently dispersed the Jews to the ends of the Earth. Merged into this vision of the end of Jerusalem, Jesus also speaks of an even greater end time, one that is still to come—His second coming and the end of the world as we know it.

Jesus words tell us nothing that experience hasn’t already taught us. There are certain things that we cannot avoid in this life and “endings” are one of them. All things that begin in this life will end in this life. It is inevitable. But the Christian embraces the Easter reality that life is not followed by end, but by more life—new life. In that certainty we persevere even when the “endings” of life come.

In this world we will never “feel” like doing anything, for the devil will always dangle the end time visions before our eyes. It will be tempting to say, “Why bother with marriage counseling?” “Why bother with a struggling ministry in a struggling church?” Why bother forgiving that repeat offender in my life?” “Why bother helping do…?” Why bother with…?” It won’t matter much if I don’t…”

In a world that crucifies everything that smacks of Christ, it is easy to see the end before we even begin and wonder “why bother?” But the answer to those questions is not sitting around and wondering “why”? Never pray about the “why.” Only pray “Lord let me do…”

I think Oswald Chambers put it best:

“There are certain things we must not pray about - moods, for instance. Moods never go by praying, moods go by kicking. A mood nearly always has its seat in the physical condition, not in the moral. It is a continual effort not to listen to the moods which arise from a physical condition, never submit to them for a second. We have to take ourselves by the scruff of the neck and shake ourselves, and we will find that we can do what we said we could not. The curse with most of us is that we won't.”

“By standing firm you will gain life”--Luke 21:19 The Christian life that perseveres till the end is one of incarnate spiritual nerve. Jesus says don’t worry about the end. Just seek after new beginnings. Seek ways to bring the beginnings of forgiveness, love, and eternal life into this world. In the end, with that as our goal, the end won’t matter.

Pastor Aaron

Today’s Reading is Luke 20 (click here for link)

I find Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees’ question about the woman with seven husbands, somewhat unsatisfying. In fact, the whole encounter seems rather bizarre. But the problem is not Jesus. The problem is the question.

While Jesus' answer to the Sadducees is not among his more luminous words, what else can he give them? There is no right answer to a wrong question.

Didn't other seekers get a very different answer to the resurrection question? To Martha, grieving at her brother's tomb, Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life." To Mary Magdalene, blinded with tears outside another tomb, he gave the supreme answer of her own name spoken from the other side of death. To Thomas, he revealed the marks of victory upon his body—the scars of crucifixion.

Pose the question with tears, seeing no lasting hope in this world, and you may hear your name for an answer. Pose it with self confidence, in the cool, comfy light of a temple still under your own management, and what you hear may send you away scratching your head.

Yes, resurrection is the answer. But what is the question we are asking?
Pastor Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 19 (click here for link).

I always laugh a little when I review the story of the “wee little man” in the Greek. Traditionally, we always see Zacchaeus as a short man who was forced to climb a tree to catch a glimpse of Jesus over the crowd. But, in the Greek, it is hard to tell exactly who the “wee little man” was. Did Zacchaeus climb the tree because he was too short to see over the crowd or is it the case that Jesus was short and could not be seen by Zacchaeus except from the vantage point of a sycamore tree?

I bet you have never considered Jesus the short one, have you?

Well… I think I will stick with the traditional interpretation. What really matters is that things change when Zacchaeus meets Jesus. The text says, “He wanted to see who Jesus was…” All he had in mind was getting a better glimpse of a celebrity who happened to be in town. But Zacchaeus got more than he bargained for. He got to see Jesus! Exactly WHO he was—the Son of God and a personal Savior from the corrupting power of sin!

Sin had ruined much of Zacchaeus’ life and reputation; perhaps, without him ever really realizing it—that is, until he meets Jesus. In this “little” story, the Gospel of salvation through grace in Jesus and the resultant sanctification of our lives blends together, beautifully. Do we mirror Zacchaeus on both sides?

Yes… Jesus has come to seek and save the lost. Zacchaeus was lost in more ways than he knew. True meaning and value and purpose for his life had never been realized until he met the ONE who would conquer even death with power of resurrection life.

May we all climb the occasional trees of life, see above the fray, and catch a better glimpse of our Lord.

Like Zacchaeus, I want to see Jesus.
Pastor Aaron

Yesterday I failed to get anything posted because I just never had the chance to sit down and think. So today we pick up with Luke 18 (click here for link).

In the rarely cited parable in Luke 18, Jesus compares God to an Unjust Judge. This judge neither fears God nor cares for humanity. He only grants justice to the poor widow because she constantly harasses him with her petitions. Jesus observes, "And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?"

The act of nagging God might seem strange to the theologically sophisticated. Can we actually hope to sway the eternal God with the sheer volume of our incessant petitions? Does asking and asking eventually wear God down? The widow in the parable is seeking justice (or vengeance, depending how you translate the Greek). We too offer up prayers of justice in an unjust world. But what good is asking more than once? Unless God is exactly like the unrighteous judge in the parable, in which case we either have to pester him to get what we want or bribe him. Neither method makes a pretty picture of God.

If the parable appears to insult our sense of Almighty God, it also raises basic questions about how the world is governed. We are forced to ponder: If God is good than why is life for his “elect” so often unjust and unfair? Why should we have to beg for justice... and beg, and beg?

It turns out that life is not fair--not to the poor or the poor in spirit, to the comfortable or uncomfortable, to the rich or powerful. Everyone agrees, the world is basically unfair. Just when it gets comfortable, people do surprising things--like die--and we are left holding the empty bag. And apparently there is no judge--neither the one in the parable nor God—who can make or will make unfairness go away. Justice has nothing to do with ridding us of the unfairness of the "changes and chances of this mortal life."

Take the story of Job as an example. Job desperately tries to solve the mystery behind his suffering. He struggles on his own, looking for clues. None appear. Job prays expectantly. God will surely speedily intervene in his life — heal him of his disease and explain to him what in the world is going on. But nothing happens. The horribly painful disease saps Job’s strength. He grows weaker and weaker. Job appeals to God to act before it is too late. At times he even challenges God. Please help me, he cries. Come to me quickly.

Through his agony, Job becomes increasingly confused, perplexed, discouraged, and without hope. In his worst nightmare, Job sees death careening around the corner of his life, ready to run him down. Job knows he is finished. In one place he moans, "My spirit is broken, my days are cut short, the grave awaits me.” Even though Job has done nothing wrong and pleads desperately for help, God still chooses to stay hidden. "I cry out to you, O God, but you do not answer," Job wails. Job’s tragic circumstances challenge and contradict everything he has always believed about God.

Indeed, God is very much like that for us, as well! But for one thing... Jesus Christ.

Even in the midst of his worst agony, when God seemed cruel or hostile, Job maintains faith that God will act with justice. He is able to say such amazing words of faith as “I know my redeemer lives,” and “Even if my God should slay me, yet will I trust in him.” Yes, living in this world of injustice makes faith in a just God seem impossible, but faith persists, nonetheless.

For the child of God, Jesus means justice even in the midst of injustice. As people of faith, we persist in our prayers and petition to God even when it doesn’t make any sense to do so. We persist even when it seems futile or foolish. We persist because we know, like Job, that God is just. He is just and loving even when he seems cruel or uncaring. We know because he has proven this in the death and resurrection of Christ.

Think of Job again... When God does finally respond to Job, it is interesting that He does not answer any of Job’s questions. He dismisses them entirely. He basically says, “Job you can never know even a tenth of Almighty God. You can’t comprehend me! You can’t even understand how the physical world works; why do you attempt to understand how the moral world works?” Rather God points Job—points each of us—to the one thing we can know for certain: God has proven that he loves us in Jesus Christ and those whom the almighty, unknowable God loves can expect justice in the end.

So... the next time you cry out to God, do you dare be persistent like the poor widow from our reading today? Well... in Philip Yancey’s words: "One bold message in the Book of Job is that you can say anything to God. Throw at him your grief, your anger, your doubt, your bitterness, your betrayal, your disappointment — he can absorb them all."

Never give up throwing Jesus Christ—your advocate with the Father—in the face of God. There is no more powerful prayer in the Universe than the prayer in Jesus’ name. That name means full justice and redemption for each of us one day yet to come. And that prayer can change even the heart of Holy God for a sinner’s cause.

Blessings as you “inwardly digest” these thoughts,
Pastor Aaron

Today’s Reading is Luke 17 (click here for link)

Jesus said, “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down at table'? Will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink'? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.'"

This section begins with the disciples asking Jesus to “increase our faith.” Jesus' response is a parable about duty. Is Jesus saying that for a person to have more faith, that person must do his duty? Well… that doesn’t sound right does it? When do we ever claim the Gospel to be “do your duty and God will bless you with faith?”

But that is exactly what Jesus is saying! But here is the key to understanding: While faith and duty are inextricably connected, nevertheless, nothing you do matters in terms of your relationship to God.

Confused???

Strangely, this reading becomes good news as we realize that it doesn’t let us off the hook. It is finally a relief to know that reading one more book, contemplating one more pithy saying, meditating on one more piece of scripture, doing one more good deed, joining one more church organization -- none of these is going to make the difference. It is finally a relief to know that my reward is not going to be greater if I think of God as a boss who will be somehow gratified that I did what I was supposed to do, or even more. It is a relief not to have to spend time worrying about these things.

Rather, the Gospel is simply this: We are servants of our Lord because he has graciously called us into service. He didn’t have to!!! We certainly don’t deserve it! And like any servant, we are replaceable. And yet, God calls us “his” people anyway. He does this out of love. For Pete’s sake, the “Boss” died for his servants! In whom else would we trust and put our faith?

The Christian life then is a response to gracious love. If you see that something needs doing in His kingdom, Jesus is saying, “Don’t pause to wonder how God will reward you for your service, just do it. It is your duty.”

In the end, acting in faith (responding to love) is faithful duty. If we are going to quantify faith, then let’s look at its source: The overwhelming gift of undeserved love. In this case, even faith the size of a mustard seed is powerful stuff!

Have a great day,
P.Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 16 (click here for link)

I don’t think there is any parable that causes more consternation than the one that begins our reading today: The Parable of the Dishonest Steward. How can a guy who is so clearly crooked and self-seeking be commended for his action, so much so that his action is an example for us on our conduct in the kingdom of God? Seems bizarre, doesn’t it?

Well, I suppose if I were to be preaching on this text, I would now begin the arduous task of pulling out every commentary I own on Luke and parables (and brew gallons of coffee) trying to figure out this problem. But this morning, I don’t want to take the time to do all of that. Instead, let’s just answer one question: What, precisely, is it that the steward does, albeit without authorization and with deception, that Jesus finds so commendable?

The servant forgives! The answer seems a bit too simple. Yet, it's been a moral of great emphasis for Luke so far: FORGIVE. Forgive it all. Forgive it now. Forgive it for any reason you want, or for no reason at all. Just forgive.

Jesus points out that if even the crooked and the self-seeking of this world understand the value and advantage of forgiveness, how much more should we as children of light live in forgiveness and practice forgiveness?

Of course, forgiveness is a hard business to be about. It extends to all facets of life. Can we forgive more often than we are willing to sue? Can we forgive more often than we are willing to defend ourselves? Can we forgive even when it doesn’t seem right or fair?

Why forgive someone who's sinned against us, or against our sense of what is obviously right? We don't have to do it out of love for the other person, if we're not there yet. We could forgive the other person because of that whole business of what we pray in Jesus' name every Sunday morning, and because we know we'd like forgiveness ourselves. We could forgive because we've experienced what we're like as unforgiving people. We could forgive because we know that refusing to forgive so that the other person does not benefit is, as the saying goes, like eating rat poison hoping it will hurt the rat. We could forgive because we are, or we want to be, deeply in touch with a sense of Jesus' power to forgive and free sinners like us. Or we could forgive because we think it will improve our odds of winning the lottery. We could forgive for just about any reason in between.

However, it all boils down to the same thing: deluded or sane, selfish and/or unselfish, there is no bad reason to forgive. Extending the kind of grace God shows us in every possible arena -- financial and moral -- can only put us more deeply in touch with God's grace.

Now, I suppose I should look in some of those commentaries and see if they agree!

Have a forgiving day,
Pastor Aaron

Read Luke 15 (click here for link to text).

There is something funny that has happened to the three accounts found here in Luke 15—the parable of the lost sheep; the widow’s lost coins; and the prodigal son. Each of them are beautiful tales of grace and redemption in their own right, but for some reason the shock and awe have worn off, at least, it can seem that way sometimes. Too often I hear the words, “There was a man with two sons…” and immediately I know where the story is going. Or how often have you heard someone refer to “leaving the 99 to go and find the 1 lost sheep” to reinforce a point about evangelism or some other ministry work?

We know these stories perhaps too well. As a result, I think it is easy to miss the point. Thomas Long, a great teacher of homiletics and preaching, put it this way:

“Maybe it’s just my imagination, but has the parable of the prodigal son become something of a bore lately? I know, I know, this is one of the most beautiful stories of grace in the Bible. And yes, I know this is a powerful archetype of human redemption. And yes, this parable presents a picture of divine acceptance so radical and sweeping that it has sometimes generated astonishment and provoked sputtering outrage.

But the shock value has worn off. Just say the opening line, "There was a man who had two sons," and we know where this one is going. The story has all the bland predictability of a biblical theme park. The awful, relationship-shattering words, "Give me my share of the inheritance," leave us unruffled because we can already hear the musicians tuning up for the joyful dance jig at the end. We are untroubled by the son’s anguished lament, "I am no longer worthy to be called your son," because the aroma of fatted calf roasting on the spit wafts over the narrative, and covers up the fetid stench of the pigsty. Fear not; the boy is coming home. He always does. The road back from the far country is paved and well lit, and we have traveled it many times.

But the power brownout in the prodigal son story is not just the result of over familiarity. Countless repetitions have transformed what was once a parable with trap doors and mysterious and unexpected depths into an Aesop’s fable, an anecdote with a prosaic moral tag. Instead of knocking our socks off with the surprise of the father improbably hiking up his skirts and dashing down the road shouting for joy and calling for "A robe! A ring! And sandals!," the story coos a little cultural wisdom in our ear: "Hey, no matter how badly you have messed up life, pick yourself up. A ready supply of forgiveness is waiting, and you can start over where you left off." The prodigal son becomes the "Comeback Player of the Year," and, as Hartford Courant columnist Jeff Rivers notes, "Everybody comes back. Mary Albert came back. Hugh Grant came back. Mike Tyson came back, Marion Barry came back. . . . It’s a forgiving culture."

"…When we treat the prodigal son as a comeback story, we miss the point. When we say, "Head home, God’s feast is waiting!" we misunderstand. It is not our remorse that forces God to set the banquet table; it is not our deep desire to start over again that leads God to roast the fatted calf. We cannot throw our own party. By all rights, this story ought to end with the younger son sweating in the furrows, eating in the slave quarters and spending his days serving his older brother. So if we prodigals see the father running in our direction with open arms, we should know in our souls that this as an event so unexpected, so undeserved, so out of joint with all that life should bring us, that we fall down in awe before this joyful mystery." (“Surprise Party.” The Christian Century, March 14, 2001, p. 10.)

Yes, we are beggars! All of us!

These parables remind me of when my children disobey the rules Pam and I work so hard to impress upon them. Even though we both understand the need to establish discipline in the lives our children especially when they are young, it just sometimes seems futile, because both of them are under 3 years in age and too young to know much about “remorse” or “repentance” or “apology.” However, even more importantly, we always forgive, love , and encourage them. God loves you and me the same way. The only difference is that we, unlike little children, are perfectly aware of just how unholy we are before God.

We each go through those “dry” spells, where we feel like there is a great distance between us and our Lord and we can’t even imagine how to get back. But our Lord always finds a way for us. He seeks us out in the dry places and returns us to our proper place as his children. And why does he do it? Why does he care so much for people who take Him for granted and wander so frequently? Well… He just does. There is no satisfying answer to that question. He just does! He loves us enough to die for us, and he did!

May the truth of His eternal love bless your day,
Pastor Aaron

Today’s reading is Luke 14. (click for link)

Many people are often confused by Jesus words in this chapter about discipleship. How can hating family be in line with what Jesus ordinarily teaches about love? He is a Savior whose constant catch phrase is “love one another as I have loved you.”

Of course, “hate” is a strong word and certainly it is important to note that Jesus is using hyperbole here to amplify his point; however, let’s not use that as an excuse to soften his words so that they are more to our liking. This is serious stuff! Jesus is making one thing painfully and uncomfortably clear: His disciples must always pay very careful attention to their priorities.

Obviously, this need for “hating” ones family would only be necessary if ones faith conflicted with familial relationships. An extreme example would be a Muslim who converts to Christianity and must face the persecution of his loved ones, who often will disown him for his betrayal. But things are rarely that extreme for most of us in the West.

Will your priorities ever mean you choose between following your Lord and following your family? I had a friend at Seminary who struggled with the difficulty of this question.

His family had been Catholic for generations. However, Andrew never felt he was raised “Christian” but just Catholic. As a result he didn’t come to faith until he was almost finished with College. He graduated, got a great job, wife, nice house, etc. His parents thought he had everything they had always wanted for him. He was a success in their eyes.

However, his parents didn’t realize that Andrew’s priorities were beginning to change. He had found the Lord. His passion for following Jesus led him to leave the Catholic tradition and find a theology that he felt was more faithful to the Word of God. He came to Concordia Seminary to train to be a Lutheran pastor. But, this meant leaving a very well paying Job as an engineer and his big house. He and his wife moved half way across the country. Andrew’s parents didn’t understand any of it. His mother locked herself in her room for three days and refused to come out in protest. They told him that he was dishonoring his family. He was throwing away everything. He had gone from being a success to an utter disappointment in his family’s eyes. But Andrew had a new priority.

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple.” Perhaps Andrew’s story is what Jesus was talking about. But Andrew doesn’t really hate his family, he bears with them. It has meant living with criticism and constant appeals to leave this new path he has chosen in life. It has meant loving and still honoring ones parents even when their hopes and dreams for you utterly conflict with your called purpose. It has meant having one’s own children and prayerfully raising them in a family that is now in some ways divided because of you. It has meant bearing a cross—perhaps the heaviest type of cross—the misdirected love from a mother whose maternal love conflicts with one’s calling to be a disciple.

Yes, family can be the most persuasive and destructive force against faith—not for all of us, but for many. It can happen in many ways: A wife living with an unbelieving husband; parents struggling to guide a child who has chosen an ungodly lifestyle; loving a sibling who has hurt you intentionally. These are all crosses that are carried not just in the flash-and-burn conflicts which blow up every so often, but rather in the long lifetime of living out faith and discipleship in the mundane, ordinary interactions with those who share your blood but not your faith convictions. It is perhaps honoring your father and mother even if they don’t honor your Lord.

His Peace,
Pastor Aaron

Today's reading is Luke 13 (click for link to the text)

There is a story that is told about a little Georgia country church about a certain Sunday night in October 1938. Evening prayer services were in full swing when a man named Sam, a member of the congregation who lived down the road from the church, charged into the prayer meeting trembling with fear and excitement. Finally gaining the breath to speak, he shouted, "Martians are attacking the earth in spaceships! Some of ‘em have already landed in New Jersey!" The preacher halted in mid-sentence; the congregation stared at Sam blankly. "I s-s-swear," he stammered, now a little unsure of his footing. "I h-h-heard it on the radio."

What Sam had heard, of course, was Orson Welles’s now infamous Mercury Theater radio production of War of the Worlds, but no one in the congregation was aware of that at the moment. For all they knew, the world outside was coming to a flaming end. The little flock looked apprehensively at the preacher, but he was mute and indecisive, never having had a sermon disrupted by interplanetary invasion. Finally one of the oldest members of the congregation, a red-clay farmer of modest education, stood up, gripped the pew in front of him with his large, callused hands, and said, "I expeck what Sam says ain’t completely true, but if it is true, we’re in the right place here in church. Let’s go on with the meetin’." And so they did.

Spaceships landing in New Jersey? Signs of the end of the world? The old farmer sized it all up, measured it against his rough-hewn view of God and God’s will and decided it was probably a better idea to be in church praising God than gathering guns and ammunition and preparing for war with intergalactic intruders.

According to Jesus, most of us are not nearly as astute as this farmer at reading the signs of the times, at distinguishing what matters and what doesn’t, at discerning what is truly happening in God’s world. Indeed, Jesus says that most of us are far better at meteorology than theology. "You hypocrites!" Jesus thunders. "You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?"

Jesus is talking, of course, about “God’s time,” the breaking-in of God’s reign like a thief in the night, plundering and destroying the old order. "Watch for it" Jesus says. "Be on the alert. Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit."

It will never be what we expect. In fact, the more we think we can foresee it, the farther we are from the truth. I remember many people during the last presidential elections making the claim that Obama’s win meant that God must be giving us some sign as a nation, punishing us for our immorality. Others claimed that he was the anti-Christ and that this was sign of the times. But how would Jesus have responded to such wild claims?

"You haven’t a clue," Jesus said, "about how to interpret the present time." No sooner had Jesus issued this challenge than some in the crowd stepped forward. "Don’t say we cannot read the times. How about that terrible incident in the temple, the one where Pilate’s police slaughtered some innocent worshipers from Galilee?"

"No," Jesus responded, "it isn’t a sign. And don’t bother bringing up the tragic case where the tower of Siloam collapsed, killing 18 people," he added. "That is not the kind of sign I mean either."

What is the sign of God’s will being done on earth as it is in heaven? Well, we are told that we must watch closely and faithfully, or we will miss it. To give us a hint, Jesus tells a parable about an orchard owner who was frustrated by a barren fig tree and ordered the gardener to cut the tree down. "Sir," pleads the gardener, "let’s nurture it, care for it and give it one more year."

That’s it! That is the sign of the times, the clue to the breaking in of God’s reign; the gracious and patient hand that reaches out to halt the ax, the merciful gesture woven into the fabric of life that attempts to stop all that would give up on the barren and the broken, the merciful voice that says, "Let’s give this hopeless case one more year.” “Let’s reach out to our changing community even if it is racially or ethnically different than us.” “Let’s forgive our brother or neighbor or employer for the wrongs they have committed against us rather than holding a grudge against them for life.” “Let’s not give up on the power of God’s love and mercy.”

"Even now," cried John the Baptist, "the ax is lying at the root of the trees." But Jesus said, "The Spirit of the Lord has sent me to bring good news to the poor and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Let’s give this one more year. Yes evil will come and will go, and will come again and will go… but our Lord calls us to look beyond, over the horizon and see that God is very much in control, and in light of that certainty, to know that we are called to be light in the darkness, to point the world to that which lies just beyond the vale—and that vale is about to be lifted, any moment now.

Peace to you today as you bring that certainty to an uncertain world,
Pastor Aaron

Today’s Reading is Luke 12 (click here for link).

Perhaps I have mentioned this before, but I am an avid gardener. I mean it! Much to my wife’s dismay, I have transformed more than half of our back yard into garden soil. In fact, Pam was making fun me last night for spending half an hour looking at heirloom seeds online. (Call me a dork if you like, but I just couldn’t decide which ones I wanted to grow this year.)

Well, those who know me best know that if it hadn’t been for the Lord calling me to ministry, I would have wound up a farmer of some sort. And, while getting out and getting dirty is one of the most relaxing things I can think of to relieve a stressful week, nevertheless, gardening and church work don’t always go well together. Why? Well, the busiest times of the year in the church—Lent and Easter—just so happens to coincide with the busiest time of the gardening season—Spring! All this beautiful weather has made getting dressed and heading into the office particularly difficult these days. But I am sure all of you outdoorsy people in understand my struggles. Spring is just an addictive, period.

However, there is no better time to celebrate the highest season of the Church year. It is Easter now. Easter and spring go together like seeds and soil. The new growth of flowers and plants and the spring birth of animal life in one sense is a great reminder of our gift of life in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. His emerging from the tomb of death into glorious life means new life for each of us. Let me repeat that again… It means new life for each of us… NOW! Easter is not just about eternal life, it is about NEW LIFE. REAL LIFE!

Now, while we must as be careful not to let little bunnies and eggs and the silliness of the secular world overshadow our true reason for celebrating Easter, nonetheless, take joy in the beauty of spring and never forget that new life is yours in Christ—life which will always emerge from death and darkness.

But let’s explore this a little bit more:

In our reading today, Jesus gives his disciples (and all who hear) a lesson on resurrection living—even though his resurrection has not yet happened. Jesus understands that death and darkness are yet to come. He says, “I have a baptism to undergo, and how distressed I am until it is completed” (vs. 50). In fact, this world is—and will always be—characterized by death and darkness. And while baptism does mean we have the hope of eternal life, we must not forget that our baptism does not release us from death but rather, forever connects us to death—Jesus’s death (Romans 6). Like winter is necessary for spring, so death now, because of sin, is necessary for life in God’s salvation plan.

He calls us today to have eyes that see life even in death, light even in darkness. Our baptism promises life even in death. Thus our lives are now lived seeing life even in what seems hopeless death. How else could Christians deal with the evil things that happen in this world? Therefore, Jesus, says be watchful and be ready! Don’t worry, even when the darkness in life seems great. Troubles and worries and calamity will always seem eminent. Every day has its own set of problems. But God calls us to see beyond the events of days and directs our attention to eternity. In God’s great time, the darkness of winter will give way to the eternal life of spring.

Yes, Jesus has much to say to us today. Resurrection life in this world is not going to be easy. Living for life in a world of death never is. But don’t be afraid. No amount of death or darkness can separate you from Him. He is risen! Alleluia!

Now, I wonder how long those seeds are going to take to get here?

Have a great day,
Pastor Aaron

Blessed Good Friday. Today will be the last post until the 12th of April when we will resume with Luke 11. Today I provide you with the Good Friday Sermon that will be preached tonight at 7:00 p.m. May the Lord hold you in the resurrection hope!

Sermon--Good Friday 2010

In his marvelous book author and pastor Tony Campolo points out the great and dynamic distinction in the Christian life—a life constantly juxtaposed between the darkness of Good Friday and the Living Hope in the Sunday Resurrection . I’d like to share a portion of it with you now:

Campolo writes, “ It was Friday, and my Jesus was hanging dead from the tree. But that was Friday, and Sunday's coming.

It was Friday, and Mary was crying her eyes out. The disciples were running in every direction, like sheep without a shepherd, but that was Friday, and Sunday's coming.

It was Friday. The cynics were looking at the world and saying you can't change anything in this world, so why even try. See what it got Jesus? But those cynics didn't realize that that was Friday, and Sunday's a coming.

It was Friday. And on Friday, those forces of darkness that oppress and destroy were in control. But that was Friday. Sunday's coming.

It was Friday, and on Friday Pilate thought he had washed his hands of a lot of trouble. The Pharisees were strutting around, laughing and poking each other in the ribs. They thought they were back in charge of things. But, they didn't know that it was only Friday. Sunday's coming.”

Have you ever looked at your life that way? I’ll tell you, it makes all the difference in the world. Are you going to stay living in the events of Good Friday or are you willing to go beyond? To look beyond the present horizon, through the dark and terrible night, and know that Sunday is still a comin’?

I fear too many people, who profess faith in Christ, live as if Good Friday is the end of the road. They live as if Sunday never came or will ever come. But I'm here to tell you, Jesus was dead, as dead as dead can be, but now he is alive, and because he lives, we can live beyond the Fridays of this world—the Fridays of this life.

Make no mistake about it, the Friday's hurt. Sometimes they look as if they might even be permanent, but for the Christian, Friday always gives way to Sunday. For the Christian, after death there is always the resurrection. In the midst of sorrow there is comfort. In the middle of trials and tribulations there is always hope!
That’s what Good Friday is all about: Hope in the midst of suffering; Comfort in the midst of sorrow; Resurrection in the midst of death. Not because of anything we have done, but it is all ours because of what Christ has done for us as our sacrifice.

The book of Hebrews says, “But he (Jesus Christ) has now appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:26-28).
The book of Hebrews was written to people who were being tempted to leave the true faith. They may have been tempted by persecution, or hardship. They may have been tempted, which is more likely the case, by false teachers who wanted to bring them back to the old time religion of the Jews. Whatever the case was this was the author’s way of saying to the people in the midst of their trials and temptations: Hang in there. Your trials will pass. Your temptations will come to an end. Right now you are experiencing the pain of Friday but Sunday’s comin'.

Remember, friends who are dearly loved by God, because Jesus sacrificed himself for you, your Friday’s are not permanent. Your Friday’s must give way to resurrection Sunday! THEY MUST!!! It can be no other way. For Jesus died to take away your sin. Jesus paid the price in full. He suffered the penalty of death for us. That is why the Scriptures triumphantly declare, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ.” We are free from sin and the condemnation it brings. And sure… Fridays do come, even for God’s people. Pain, suffering, hurt and sorrow are all things we experience. They are realities of living in a Good Friday World! But through it all remember Sunday’s coming. And that means victory is at hand!

And I don’t mean vague and spiritual, I mean specific… So let me get specific:

For some people it’s Friday in their marriage. It is coming apart at the seams, but remember, it is only Friday, and Sunday's coming. Nothing brings new life into a dead marriage like the Resurrected Jesus. For some, it is Friday and you might be struggling with some particular sin which is dragging you down and it looks as if it is going to pull you under, but it's only Friday. Sunday's coming. The Resurrected Lord has promised in His Word that “sin shall no long be your master” because in your Baptism you were given power for living a new life to the glory of God.

For some, it is Friday, and the bills keep rolling in, and the pressure keeps mounting because times are tough, and you are on a fixed income. But it’s only Friday. Sunday's coming. And the resurrected Jesus has promised that even as he cares for the birds of the air and the lillies of the field so he cares for you not just spiritually but also physically.

It is Friday and someone you love may be suffering and you don't know how you are ever going to cope, but my friends, it's Friday. Sunday's coming. The same Jesus who bound up the broken hearted in the Gospels is the same Jesus who promises to mend our broken hearts as he applies the healing balm of the Gospel to our lives. He will give you the strength to go on, until you finish the race, until He brings to completion the good work He has begun in you.

And yes, today is Good Friday, and we remember that on that fateful day, outside of Jerusalem, on a place called Golgotha, Jesus really and truly breathed his last and he really and truly died. And that news in and of itself is not good at all. And it’s hard not to be touched by Christ’s pain. It is hard not to be touched by the blessed suffering of God’s Son. Through it all, we must remember that God was in control of the event of Good Friday. He was working out his plan to bring us live, forgiveness and peace. I have no idea who ever first decided to call the day Jesus died: “Good Friday,” but whoever did it new Sunday was coming.

And yes, on one Friday every last one of us will die as our Savior once died, but, that will be a Friday, and Sunday is coming. For the same Lord who said, “Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest,” is also the one who has promised to say to all who finish the race and die in the one true faith, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.”

May you find hope and comfort this Good Friday, and all the Fridays of life, in the assurance that Sunday is coming! Amen.

Luke 22:19-20 - And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them saying, “This is My body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” In the same way, after supper He took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is poured out for you.”

Some liken Jesus’ Last Supper with His disciples to a dying man’s last meal. I’ve also heard it compared to someone who is near death gathering the family for one final time of being able to celebrate together.

We know from Jesus’ own word He specifically wanted to eat this particular Passover meal with His disciples, and in yesterday’s devotion we saw how Jesus was taking one final opportunity to teach them about serving others.

This bread and wine He gives them in today’s Bible verse reminds me of the gifts we sometimes exchange at family gatherings. On the very night He was betrayed, Jesus takes bread and wine, gives it to His disciples and tells them that this is “for you.”

Christian churches have celebrated this gift ever since, repeating the sharing of Jesus’ very body and blood in the bread and wine, in remembrance of Him, just as He instructed. I pray you have the opportunity to partake of this holy meal when you are invited to receive it in remembrance of Jesus’ sacrifice for our sins.

THE PRAYER: Lord, on this Holy Thursday, the night before Your death, keep us mindful and thankful of the great gift You have given us through Your sacrifice on the cross. Amen.