Drawing Near God

If you carefully read the Letter to the Hebrews, you will find multiple calls for us to draw near to God or to the throne of God.  James echoes the same call: “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded” (James 4:8 ESV).  I’ve found the admonition a wise one to follow.  I’ve practiced it and preached it.

But “draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” is not the whole truth.  Oh, it is true, at least it has been in my life; but there is something truer and more amazing: God draws near us!  That’s the gospel—the good news about Jesus and the Good News that Jesus is.  God draws near us!  Were this not true, I’m not sure where I would be. 

Of course we can’t become apathetic to the extent that we just leave it all up to God.  God does expect a response from us.  Yet my experience tells me that God is slow to accept negative responses from us.  Perhaps he hears our “no” and knows that we speak it out of fear or out of disbelief that God could care about us or out of an immaturity that mistakes our wills for God’s will.

God does not give up!  Knowing this to be true in my own experience, I celebrate the image of Jesus as the high priest “designated by God” (Hebrews 5:1-10).   Perhaps this sense of God pursuing me, of never giving up on me, comes because Jesus, my priest and your priest, is continually interceding in our behalf. 

It is the Good News: the One who bids us draw near draws near to us.  The one who bids us be pure in our commitment becomes the One who prays for us and makes it possible for us to draw near to the God who draws near to us.  Amen and amen!

THe Holy Bible

Without the Christian Scriptures, we would know little, if anything, about Jesus.  Without Jesus, we would be left with a very different view of God. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve held a high view of Scripture. Before I could read, Dad and Mom bought me my first Bible.  Using a pencil, my Dad wrote my name and the date (December 25, 1954) on the presentation page.  When I preached my first sermon, I read the text from that Bible.  I carried it to church and packed it in suitcases until April 23, 1967 when Dad and Mom replaced it with a much finer one.  Having given me a Bible, they taught me to respect it, use it, and carry it with me.  One never went to church without a Bible.  If a trip was planned, one’s Bible was always packed for travel.  The lessons learned have followed me all my life.  I never leave home without a Bible.

The Bible is God’s Holy Word.  That’s what I was taught as a child, and it is what I still believe.  There was much in the Bible I didn’t understand during my childhood.  Never mind, I would be told, we will understand it better by and by.  I thought they meant when we got to heaven.  What I discovered is that a Bible reader does understand the Bible better by and by.  The more we read, the longer we ponder over Scripture, and the more we dare to apply our understanding of the text to our living, the better we understand.  It’s a process.

The process of growing in our understanding is dependent upon our belief in and commitment to Jesus Christ.  If Jesus is the Son of God . . . if Jesus is the Word that was in the beginning and if Jesus is the Word of which John wrote when he stated that the Word was God, that Word—Jesus—must be the Foundation on which we build our lives.  The Bible is Holy.  God is its ultimate source.  But Jesus is the Foundation on which we build our lives. 

The New Testament portion of the Bible reveals Jesus to us, but we are not left with only a written testimony of his life and teachings.  Jesus promised the “Comforter, who is the Holy spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatever I have said unto you” (John 14:26 KJV).  I first learned of Jesus through the Bible and Bible-based teaching I received as a child.  I believe in Jesus today both because of the witness of Holy Scripture and because Jesus’ Spirit bears witness to my spirit.

Since I experience the presence of Jesus through the Spirit and understand Jesus to be one with God, I am left with no choice but to read all of Scripture, interpreting it in light of who I understand Jesus to be.  This is important.  If Jesus was the Word and was with God and was God, we must read all of Scripture through the lens of Jesus’ life and teachings and ongoing presence through the Spirit. 

I still hold a high view of Scripture.  I read it daily.  I pray about what I read, and I allow Scripture to lead me to pray what I might not otherwise pray.  Yet there is a difference in the view of Scripture I have today versus the one I had as a younger person.  As a child and teen, I came close to making the Bible an idol before which I worshiped. Today I understand the Bible to be a holy tool meant to be used as a guide for understanding God, the world around me, and my relationship to God and the world of which I am a part. 

In many wasy the Bible is more holy to me today than it was in those younger years.  At the heart of my increased sense of the holiness of the Bible is my growing understanding that all Scripture, and all teaching that purports to flow from Scripture, must be read and heard through the heart and mind of Jesus.  To do otherwise is to be left with a very different image of God than is revealed in Jesus--the Word that became flesh and dwelt and dwells among us.

(For more on this subject, see my sermon, Word of God: Living and Active, at our church’s website: www.eminencebaptist.org.  Once there, look for “Pastor’s Pages,” and click on “Sermons,” and look for the title and date (October 14, 2012).

Today Is the Day!

Today is the day—the only day we have.  We think we have tomorrow and many more tomorrows after that, but we have today.  That’s it!  We hope for tomorrow, most of us wisely plan for tomorrow, but we live today—today only. 

I almost didn’t write the above; and even after I wrote it, I considered deleting it.  It sounds a bit too much like the preaching with which I grew up.  My memory may be faulty at this point.  It may be that I’ve allowed a few Sunday sermons to fill a larger time-frame.  Whichever may be true, the preachers I heard as a childhood and adolescence spent a lot of time urging their hearers to respond to the gospel TODAY.  Every revival preacher of the day had at least one good story about the lost person who was in church one night, was under conviction, but refused to respond, and died in a car wreck on the way home—still lost—burning in hell.  After a dramatic pause, we would be reminded that TODAY IS THE ONLY DAY YOU HAVE.

Over time, those stories lost their punch.  My teenage friends and I became capable of anticipating when the story would be told.  Now that I am older, I wonder how many of those stories were true.  Perhaps there was just one story that passed from preacher to preacher with the names and details being altered to fit a particular audience. 

Yet today is the day—the only day we have.  It is the only day we have to live.  It is the only day we have in which we get to decide what we will do with this Jesus that the Christian faith holds before us.  What we decide and do with Jesus today matters.

It matters for today.  Declaring today that Jesus is both Christ and lord and submitting our wills and way to him changes how we live today.  Doing so assures us that no matter how the day ends and no matter what the outcomes of the day may be, the day will have been a better day than it would have been otherwise.

Should we have a tomorrow, it matters because today’s choices and actions will shape tomorrow. 

It matters because there will be a tomorrow.  One of those tomorrows will find us having stepped across the chasm of death.  Scripture seems to be clear that how we live our todays has implications for how we live the tomorrows that lie across death’s chasm.

Today is the day—the only day we have.  So, who do you say Jesus is?  It’s the question of questions.

An Old Question

There’s an old question that is worth asking again.  The question has to be old because I remember asking and answering it when in grade school.  When it was asked by a church leader, I knew the correct answer, and I always answered correctly. My answer may not have been truthful, but it was correct.

If you were to be stranded on a deserted island and could have only one book with you, what book would that be?  Well, given how dependent I am on survival by convenience—food from the grocery store, clothes from the department stores, medical care from the doctors, and the shelter of a house built by other hands, I would want that one book to be All You Need to Know to Survive on this Deserted Island with Nothing But this Book.

The “right” answer, of course, is the Bible.  Its sixty-six books have about all that can be found in modern literature. There is romance, comedy, tragedy, and enough devotional material for a lifetime.  One can even find some how-to chapters scattered here and there.  Come to think of it, those instructions on ark building might be good to have.

It you could only take one of the sixty-six books of the Bible, which one would you take?  For me, it would be the Psalms.  The Psalmists understood the whole of the human/divine drama.  On the words of the Psalms one can cry from the depths of hell—and be heard—and shout from the heights of glory—and not be thought crazy.  Through the Psalms one can express thanksgiving, lament, joy, anger, and hope.  With them, one may challenge God and celebrate God.  Yes, I would want the Psalms as my lone book.  They might not teach me how to survive the deserted island; but they would remind me that only the island is deserted.  With God, I am not deserted . . . ever.

If I could have the joy of taking a series of books, I would add Stephen King’s The Dark Tower Series.  Could I add some other books, I would add anything from Wendell Berry, Thomas Merton, and James Michener. 

Ah, but it is only one book . . . only one.  If so, let it be Psalms.  With the Psalms I might be alone but I would be a congregant among all God’s people; and with the Psalmists’ songs, I could sing.

Women Preachers and a Deacon

Rev. Katie Anderson is preaching at Eminence Baptist today, September 16, 2012.

While with a group of folks this week, none of whom are connected to our church, I shared that I was not preaching this Sunday and that Rev. Katie Anderson would be our guest.

“I didn’t know Baptist churches allowed that,” one woman said.

“Many don’t,” I replied, “but our church and a growing number of Baptist churches do.”

The truth is that this Baptist preacher has not always been in support of women as pastor/preachers.  When I arrived at Southern Seminary in 1973, I knew that the pastorate was reserved for men.  After all, how can a woman be the husband of one wife?”  The Bible said it and I believed it. 

The first challenge to my belief was meeting Molly Marshall, a student at Southern.  She was enrolled in the Master of Divinity Degree program, not the Master of Religious Education or the Master of Church Music program.  Over time I would learn that Molly’s call to ministry and her commitment to our Lord was not that far removed from my own experience.  (By the way, Molly is now Dr. Molly T. Marshall, president of Central Baptist Theological Seminary in Shawnee, Kansas.)  Then something else happened. 

I became pastor of Utica Baptist Church just across the river from Louisville in Indiana.  The church organist’s mother was a preacher and lived with her daughter the organist. I was made aware of this, but I chose to ignore it.  Then the mother became ill, and the pastor had to make a pastoral visit.  How could I ignore the ill mother of the church organist?  I made the visit.

Once in the presence of the mother/preacher, I heard myself say something I would never have said had I been in control of my faculties.  “Tell me about your call to ministry.”  WHAT DID I JUST SAY?  Having said it, I had to listen.

This dear lady, who surely knew she was talking to a young man who didn’t approve of her vocation, gently shared her testimony of faith and her call to ministry.  When she finished, all I could think to say was, “Your testimony and call is very similar to my own.”  A young pastor learned an important lesson that day: God calls whom God calls.

What about I Timothy 3:1-7?  Well, I interpret it, which is what the rest of the Bible believers do with the Bible.  Some say they don’t interpret; but they do; otherwise they would be living very different lives, including not ever having another barbequed pork rib.  Particularly, I interpret I Timothy and the rest of the Bible in light of who Jesus is revealed to be.  As I read the gospels, I discover that Jesus didn’t have a  problem with women.  Have you noticed who first proclaimed the tomb empty to the rest of the disciples?  It was Mary Magdalene.

Following Jesus’ lead, we who are Eminence Baptist Church have chosen to affirm God’s call of women, men, girls, and boys.  What does that mean?  If God calls and if the called bear witness to the calling in life and deed, we affirm. 

I’m so pleased to be pastor of a church that affirms all God’s children.  By the way, this church just elected a new deacon chairperson.  She is Donna Duncan.  Yes, that Donna Duncan, my wife.

Sisters and Brothers

In Victor Hugo’s novel, Les Misérables, Bishop Myriel came to be known as Bishop Welcome because of his openness to those he served.  One night he welcomed a visitor named Jean Valjean, a man just released from 19 years in prison.  Jean Valjean walked into town and sought food and lodging at two different inns only to be turned away because of what he was—a newly released prisoner identified by the “yellow passport” he was required to show “at the town-hall.”  He tried local residences with similar lack of luck. 

At last Jean Valjean came to the residence of the bishop, a residence that did not look all that auspicious because the bishop had chosen to live a most modest life.  This is also why Jean Valjean did not know that his about-to-be host was a bishop.  He was invited to share the bishop’s table and had been offered a bed for the night.  Since Jean Valjean had not hidden his identity to the bishop, he was amazed at the hospitality shown him and expressed such.  The bishop replied:

“You could not help telling me who you were.  This is not my house; it is the house of Jesus Christ.  This door does not demand on him who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a grief.  You suffer, you are hungry and thirsty; you are welcome.  And do not thank me; do not say that I receive you in my house.  No one is at home here, except the man who needs a refuge.  I say to you, who are passing by, that you are much more at home here than I am myself.  Everything here is yours.  What need have I to know your name? Besides before you told me you had one which I knew.”

The man opened his eyes in astonishment.

“Really? You knew what I was called?”

“Yes,” replied the Bishop, “you are called my brother.” –pp. 66-67 Kindle Version

Hospitality in the name of Jesus is at the core of what it means to be his follower.

The Mystery of Communion

We were as silent as mice as we hid behind the trees on the west side of the church parking lot.  The early dark of the evening aided us in hiding.  We four boys were on a mission of discovery.  Any minute we knew we would see them.  One of our number had seen them go over.  It was only a matter of time before they came back.  They never stayed all that long, and they always came back.

Moments later we heard the sound of a screen door opening and then the muffled sound of the men’s voices.  “Wait!  Don’t forget this.”  Was that a woman’s voice we heard?  Walking slowly, the men made their way across the backyard of the house before disappearing behind the church.  Thanks to an early and full moon, we did catch just a glimpse of the silver. 

The house we watched was the pastor’s home, which was “conveniently” located right next to the church.  (People who think that is convenient have never been a pastor who lived next door to the church.)  The men who moved furtively through the dark were two of the church’s deacons and the pastor.  The woman’s voice was that of Mrs. Johnson, our pastor’s wife.  Apparently, she was the only woman allowed near the secret. 

Until that night, we had thought that the “elements” of the Lord’s Supper just showed up on the table in front of the pulpit, covered by a white tablecloth.  That night the secret was partially uncovered.  The “elements” came from the parsonage; and in spite of women not being able to serve the elements, it appeared to us that Mrs. Johnson had been allowed to help prepare them. Interesting, isn’t it?  Women could bake the bread, pour the juice, press the tablecloth, and, I suspect, wash up afterwards, but they could not serve the congregation. 

This morning at our church a man and woman will be preparing the bread and the juice, and men and women will serve.  There will be little secrecy around the Table, though there will be much mystery.  All who are present will be invited to eat and drink.  Some of those will experience the mystery of bread and juice becoming more . . . so much more.  Some who are not yet believers will eat and drink with us; and in doing so, they will hear and see lessons of God’s love and of Jesus’ promise that he is the Bread of Life.  Some who hear and see the lesson will believe, and the next time they eat and drink they may well experience the mystery.

The Table is the Lord’s.  I pray somewhere you are finding one of His Tables that is open to you.