Luke 1:26 - 38

December 5, 2006 SC390 "Word and Act in Christian Worship" Princeton Theological Seminary

Luke 1:26-38 ²⁶ In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, ²⁷ to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary. ²⁸ And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." ²⁹ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. ³⁰ The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹ And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. ³² He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. ³³ He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." ³⁴ Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" ³⁵ The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. ³⁶ And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. ³⁷ For nothing will be impossible with God." ³⁸ Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

Before Gabriel appears to Mary, Zechariah and Elizabeth find out that they are expecting a son who will grow up to be John the Baptist. Elizabeth is old – barren – and it seems impossible that she would conceive. But, as Gabriel explains it to Mary, “nothing will be impossible with God.”

That’s just the beginning. Not only will a barren woman conceive, but a virgin will conceive. This sounds impossible. Sure, it’s a nice story to tell to kids before you tell them about the manger scene, but when it comes right down to the truth, the historicity, the down-and-dirty reality, many of us don’t quite buy it. It seems impossible. The angel’s words are shocking in the face of this impossibility. “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

As we know, this impossible virgin conception is just the start of an impossible life. Jesus healed the sick, fed the multitudes, cast out demons, and promised to turn the world upside down. What he did sounds impossible. But once again the angel’s words ring in our ears. “Nothing will be impossible with God.”

Finally, his impossible actions catch up with him. Jesus is crucified. And then, impossibility of impossibilities, he is raised from the dead. This man with the impossible beginning conquers death itself. It sounds too good to be true, but “nothing will be impossible with God.”

As we prepare for the coming of Jesus this Advent season, there are impossible things that loom up ahead of us as well. We want to cleanse our hearts and make room for our Lord, but all we can think about is that we only have three weeks to get all those papers and sermons done before Christmas vacation. We want to look with hope towards Christ’s birth, but all we can think about is how empty Christmas with the family is going to seem since a loved one died this past year. We want to guide our field ed congregations, families, or students towards a more meaningful Advent celebration, but when we read in the newspaper about an unarmed man being shot 50 times or more than 400 people dying in a typhoon in the Philippines, it is hard for us to find meaning in much of anything. It all seems impossible.

But if we think it seems impossible, we need the word that Luke offers us today. “Nothing will be impossible with God.” The same Jesus whose impossible conception is announced to Mary is the Jesus who is able to take us in our impossible cynicism and give us true hope that the world will be turned around. The despair that threatens to overtake us will never get the last word, because “nothing will be impossible with God.” This promise is given in the future tense, because as God worked a miracle in the past, so God will continue to work miracles in your life, in my life, and in all of creation until everything is transformed. This is a promise so wild that it seems impossible. But “nothing will be impossible with God.”

Isaiah tells us that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” The light of Christ may seem so bright that it could blind you with its impossibility, but open your eyes! “Nothing will be impossible with God.” To paraphrase Mary, “Here we are, the servants of the Lord; let it be with us according to God’s word.”

2 Corinthians 5:11 - 6:10

Second Christian Reformed Church, Fremont, Michigan; June 18, 2006

This passage from 2 Corinthians does not have only one simple point for us to take away. It is chock full of rich meaning and value. The entire book of 2 Corinthians is a letter that Paul wrote to the church at Corinth. When he wrote 1 Corinthians, an earlier letter, Paul had a pretty good relationship with that church, but by the time of 2 Corinthians, we can tell that there have been some disputes. Paul is trying to commend himself to the Corinthian church so that they can accept his gospel message once again. I will read 2 Corinthians 5:11 – 6:10, but pay special attention to verses 14 – 21.

Since, then, we know what it is to fear the Lord, we try to persuade men. What we are is plain to God, and I hope it is also plain to your conscience. We are not trying to commend ourselves to you again, but are giving you an opportunity to take pride in us, so that you can answer those who take pride in what is seen rather than in what is in the heart. If we are out of our mind, it is for the sake of God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you. For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men's sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. As God's fellow workers we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain. For he says, "In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation. We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

The passage that we just read includes three major sections. In the first and third sections, Paul is talking about himself and his ministry, and what it has involved. If I wanted to preach a sermon on Christ-like ministry and what self-giving mission looks like, I would focus on these two sections. They are also good sections for setting up the tone of Paul’s letter, which is why I read them tonight. In the middle section, which includes chapter 5:14 – 21, Paul gives us the theological reasons for his ministry. This is something that applies to Christians in all times and places, and it is this middle section that we will be focusing on this evening.

What would you say if I gave you one sentence to try to describe the essence of Christianity? We Christians talk about what Christ has done for us in a lot of different ways. The central message of Christianity is so simple and yet so profound that we use a lot of language to try to describe it. Our part in our own salvation is simple: we don’t do anything! God’s part in salvation is a little bit more complicated to describe. It’s still a simple act of love, but because God is a mystery to us, we have to try a lot of different ways of describing it.

Let me give you some examples. Sometimes we talk about Christ’s salvation in financial terms: Christ has paid the price of our sins and has bought us eternal life with God. Sometimes we talk about Christ’s salvation in covenantal terms: God made a covenant with us that can never be broken, and in order to keep that covenant, Christ suffered on the cross out of love for us. Even our names for God indicate different ways of thinking of what Christianity is all about. We describe God as a shepherd, a rock, a lion, a lamb, a lover, a king, a high priest. God is a shepherd, gathering us, the lost sheep, to himself. God is our rock, who shelters us from the storm and is a strong foundation on which to stand.

Why does this have to be so complicated? In some ways, Christianity is so simple – God loves us, and we should love each other. But when we talk about exactly what happens when God loves us, it gets a little bit more complicated. We can be grateful that we have a multitude of ways of describing salvation. God can indeed be a shepherd and a rock at the same time. This gives us a richer picture of who God is and what God does for us. It also gives us a number of ways to describe our faith to those around us, and to figure out how to live that faith in our everyday lives.

In 2 Corinthians 5:14 – 21, Paul gives us one of the richest ways of describing the central message of Christianity. What is it that we believe? What is it that we’re all about? Paul says this: we are reconciled to God.

If I had only one paragraph to describe the gospel to someone, I would give him or her verses 18 and 19, “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.” What was God doing in Christ? What is the central message of Christianity? Here’s another way to look at it: God was reconciling the world to himself.

The dictionary says that “reconciliation” is “the reestablishing of cordial relations.” Our healthy, vibrant relationship with God has been broken by sin, and now, in Christ, God has restored us to a good relationship with him.

When I first thought of the word “reconciliation,” I remembered something that happened in the country of South Africa after the end of apartheid. The black and white races in South Africa were separated for years, and whites abused and mistreated blacks for decades. After a new government was installed in 1994, apartheid, or separation, came to an end, and South Africa began a process of healing. Archbishop Desmond Tutu was instrumental in forming what he called the “Truth and Reconciliation Commission.” The goal of this commission was healing and restoring the broken relationship between the races in South Africa. The amnesty branch of this commission would hear the confessions of many people who had committed human rights violations. People who had committed atrocious sins, even murder, could be forgiven by this commission. If the commission chose to accept their apology, these criminals could be granted amnesty and protection from ever being prosecuted for their crime. All they needed to do was tell the truth, which is why it was called the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

As a human political move, this commission was radical. How could they let criminals go without any punishment? Why did they even want to restore a healthy relationship with people who had been so cruel? As a reflection of God’s reconciliation, however, this commission makes perfect sense. In fact, the reason I mention this commission is because it reminds me of God’s way of reconciling us to himself. God forgets all of our sins and grants us amnesty from punishment. God’s primary goal is not to punish us, but to restore health to our relationship with him. Brothers and sisters, that is the reason for Jesus Christ. Reconciliation – a restored relationship.

What exactly does God’s reconciliation involve? How does it work? 2 Corinthians tells us about this as well. The first step, believe it or not, is death. This death is a death to self and a death to sin. “One died for all, and therefore all died,” says Paul. In South Africa, this death could be compared to the pain and shame of coming before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and admitting to your crimes. People were required to relive their crimes in front of an entire nation. The criminals who were forgiven had indeed died to their sins in this process.

After death comes new life – the second step in God’s process of reconciling us to himself. When we are born anew, our new self can participate in a restored and reconciled relationship with God. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” In South Africa, new life would be found in the improved relationships between blacks and whites that are gradually coming as a result of the confessions and forgiveness of many people in that nation. For anyone, to be declared a “new creation” is a great word of hope. We were created in order to love God. We did not live up to our potential for love, but because of God’s reconciliation, we are a new creation! We can love God once again.

This death and this new life show up all over the place in our lives as Christians. The first place that we find death and rebirth is in baptism. Saying this sounds strange at first. Baptism is about cute babies and white dresses, not death. Baptism and funerals are at opposite ends of life, so how is baptism about death? Romans 6:4 says, “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.” Baptism is about death for the sake of rebirth. The water of baptism symbolizes death as in the waters of a flood or of drowning, but the water also symbolizes life as in the waters of cleansing or the water that we drink.

I had a professor in college who described how baptism by immersion could take place in order to reflect this rich symbolism. “I would push them under the water and hold them there,” he said, “until they felt like they were going to die. Then I would bring them up out of the water and they would feel like their first breath was a breath of new life.” This is exaggerated, of course, but it is true that we as baptized Christians die to sin so that we might live to Christ. The death of Christian reconciliation is not a death of sadness, but a death that can allow for new life. The sacrament of baptism, with its death and new life, simply reflects the fact that our whole life is a process of dying to ourselves and our sinful nature and being brought to new life by Christ and in Christ.

Here’s another way to think about death and rebirth. C. S. Lewis concludes his book, Mere Christianity, with some thoughts on this pattern in our everyday lives. “The principle runs through all life from top to bottom,” he writes. “Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life, and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favorite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit every fiber of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.” This description of Lewis’ is none other than reconciliation with God.

Here’s something to consider as we think about new life and rebirth in Christ. I know faithful Christians who call themselves “born again Christians.” This is a fine way to refer to yourself, but it hasn’t always resonated with me. My conversion to Christianity was more of a gradual process of coming to know Christ than an instant change. I think that many people think being “born again” has to mean having a drastic change in your life. I also know faithful Christians who have a bumper sticker that says, “Born okay the first time.” However, we cannot deny that the biblical description of what Christ does for us has something to do with new life, especially in a passage like 2 Corinthians 5.

Here’s another way to think of being “born again.” For many of us, including myself, this new birth is not a sudden, instantaneous event. Rather, it is like the rebirth that happens with the coming of each spring. The winter is a time of cold and death, but in the spring, nature is born again. The ground gradually thaws, plants slowly peek their heads through the soil, and leaves begin to bud again. It is a slow process, but it is still “born again.” Many of us are “born again” in this sense. This is the work of Christ in our lives, reconciling us to God. We were in the winter of isolation from God, but because of the spring and our rebirth, we can be reconciled to a warm summer of restored and reconciled relationship with God.

For a final way of looking at death and rebirth as God’s reconciling us to himself, I would like to take a look at the Heidelberg Catechism, Lord’s Day number 33. Here are the questions and the answers that are part of this section. “What is involved in genuine repentance or conversion? Two things: the dying-away of the old self, and the coming-to-life of the new. What is the dying-away of the old self? It is to be genuinely sorry for sin, to hate it more and more, and to run away from it. What is the coming-to-life of the new self? It is wholehearted joy in God through Christ and a delight to do every kind of good as God wants us to.” I would like to read the last of those questions again. “What is the coming-to-life of the new self? It is wholehearted joy in God through Christ and a delight to do every kind of good as God wants us to.”

“A wholehearted joy in God through Christ.” That, friends, is a sign of a healthy, restored relationship. A relationship that has been reconciled. And that is our salvation. When God reconciles us to himself, we die to ourselves and are raised to new life in Christ.

So far, all of Paul’s talk about reconciliation has involved God’s work of reconciliation for us. The final part, however, has to do with our ministry of reconciliation. Listen to verses 20 and 21: “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Reconciliation comes from God, and we are the messengers of God who can tell the world of the reconciliation that God offers.

I had a conversation with my friend Lisa the other day. Lisa lived mostly in Christian communities until she attended Central Michigan University. Her first couple of years there were very challenging ones for her as a Christian. When I told her that I was preparing a sermon about 2 Corinthians 5, her eyes lit up. “That chapter was such an encouragement to me during my first year of college,” she said. She had been very nervous at first about sharing her faith with her non-Christian classmates. She worried that she wouldn’t be appealing enough for them to convert, or that she might say something wrong. The reason that this passage was encouraging to her was that it let her know that witnessing was about restoring people to a God who already loved them. She had a message of reconciliation from God – it was not about her and her ability to witness, it was about God’s love! God has already accomplished the act of reconciliation in Jesus Christ. All you have to tell your neighbor is this: God wants a reconciled relationship with you.

I’m glad that we don’t ever have to summarize our faith in just one sentence. It would be impossible to tell of the mysteries of God in only a few words. And in fact, we learn from Paul in 2 Corinthians 5 that reconciliation is about a lifelong process of death and rebirth. It’s never about just one sentence of perfect words. But, if I were forced to pick just one sentence, I might talk about God reconciling us to himself in Christ. I might talk about our death and our new life. Or, I might read 2 Corinthians 5:21: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

Psalm 138

June 11, 2006 Second Christian Reformed Church, Fremont, Michigan

I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart; before the "gods" I will sing your praise. I will bow down toward your holy temple and will praise your name for your love and your faithfulness, for you have exalted above all things your name and your word. When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.

May all the kings of the earth praise you, O LORD, when they hear the words of your mouth. May they sing of the ways of the LORD, for the glory of the LORD is great.

Though the LORD is on high, he looks upon the lowly, but the proud he knows from afar.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the anger of my foes, with your right hand you save me. The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your love, O LORD, endures forever-- do not abandon the works of your hands.

One of my favorite songs as a child was “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” I probably learned the song in this very congregation. I must be honest, though, the reason I loved it as a child was probably the cool hand motions. You know them… “He’s got the whole world in his hands…he’s got the little tiny baby…he’s got you and me sister…he’s got the wind and the rain…he’s got the whole world in his hands.” This was, and still is, a fun song to sing. When I sang it as a child, I had no idea what I was actually singing about. That didn’t diminish the fact that I was praising God – I think God is very pleased by the sound of children singing to him, even if they don’t know what they’re doing.

However, Psalm 138, even with its child-like exuberance, shows us an entirely different kind of praise. The Psalmist’s exuberance doesn’t come from his own energy or his own self-confidence, nor even from his love of hand motions. He praises God because he is profoundly grateful for God’s transformative work in his life. He praises God because God has turned the world upside down, and God has given the lowly psalmist the ability to praise in the first place.

Let’s talk about what we notice the first time that we read this Psalm. The speaker seems very confident in the God that he is praising. The first time I read Psalm 138, the tone reminded me of a cocky, self-sure sports fan. Picture the kind of loyalty and pride that a Boston Red Sox fan had in 2004 when the Sox came from behind to beat the New York Yankees and win the American League Championship, later going on to win the World Series of baseball. My brother David lives in Boston, and my husband Kyle and I went to visit him in the spring of 2005. We took a tour of Fenway Park, where the Red Sox play. The employees who gave us the tour told us about the history of the field and the history of the Red Sox, but mostly, they wanted to insult the Yankees. They were positively gloating. They kept asking if there were any Yankees fans on the tour (which there weren’t), and insulted the absent Yankees fans by reminiscing over each detail of the American League Championship games. They were proud of their team, and they wanted their opponents – and the whole world – to know it.

Irreverent as it may seem, this is the kind of tone that the Psalmist uses in Psalm 138. Verse one says, “Before the “gods” I will sing your praise.” In other words, the psalmist is boldly praising God right in front of God’s false competitors. One commentator suggests that a good contemporary rendering of this verse would be for the psalmist to look at the true God and say, “I praise you, O Lord,” and then to turn to the false gods and add contemptuously, “In your face!” The psalmist seems so assured of the worth of the true God that he wants to flaunt it, just like a Red Sox fan in 2004.

This pride continues later in the Psalm. In verses four and five, the psalmist invites all the kings of the earth to praise God with him. These kings are very powerful and great, but the psalmist is so proud of the greatness of his God that he wants the great kings to join him in praise. “May all the kings of the earth praise you, O LORD, when they hear the words of your mouth. May they sing of the ways of the LORD, for the glory of the LORD is great.”

Indeed, in this Psalm, as in many of the Psalms, praise seems to pour out of the psalmist’s lips. Think of Psalm 150, which can’t stop praising God: “Praise the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens. Praise him for his acts of power; praise him for his surpassing greatness…” and so on. My question for these Psalms, and for Psalm 138 in particular is this: why is the psalmist so confident in his praise of God? Why does he want the whole world to know it? What makes him so sure?

In the NIV translation of the Bible, which we read from this morning, the Psalm starts by saying, “I will praise you, O Lord.” Other translations of the Psalm, such as the NRSV translation, start by saying, “I give you thanks.” Two different words – praise and thank – are used to translate the same Hebrew word. Now, we could have a debate about which word is better and which translation is closer to accurate. But, I actually like the fact that the two translations chose two different words. The thing is, there would be no way of resolving the debate, because, to the Hebrew people, praise and thanks were so close to the same thing. That’s exactly why they had only one word for it.

Sometimes, when we say “praise,” we think of saying to God, “You are very great, very powerful, and very high above me.” But, we don’t think of how God relates to us. Sometimes, when we say “thank,” we think of saying to God, “You are very kind and generous. You have done a lot of great things for me.” But, we don’t think of who God is by himself. Psalm 138 forces us to think about both at the same time. Not only is God really great and powerful, but God also stoops down to our level and loves us. Not only does God do a lot of great things in our lives, but God is also the creator of the universe and the Lord of all peoples and nations. When the psalmist says “I praise you,” he is only able to praise because of how thankful he is for what God has done for him. When the psalmist says, “I give you thanks,” he is recognizing that the God to whom he is thankful is also a God who is worthy of all his praise.

We can get at this same idea by looking at verse two. This verse says to God, “I will praise your name.” God’s name, in one sense, could be “Yahweh” – I am who I am. This is the name that God revealed to Moses, and the Israelites often called God “Yahweh.” On the other hand, name probably also refers to God’s reputation. This is what we mean when we say that someone has “made a name for herself” – it means that she has earned a good reputation. In this Psalm, God has a reputation, and it is for this reputation that the Psalmist praises God. This is no empty reputation, either. Once the psalmist has said that God has a good reputation, he goes on to say how God got this reputation.

Verse three says, “When I called, you answered me, you made me bold and stouthearted.” Verses six through eight describe God’s work of salvation. God’s reputation is having a love that endures forever. This love saves the psalmist, even though he is lowly and the Lord is on high. The fact that God lives up to this great reputation is what makes the psalmist bold and stouthearted in his praise, and it is what give him the ability to praise in the first place.

Psalm 138 also tells us about what God’s salvation looks like. God is a God who saves, and God is also a God whose salvation turns the world around. The world favors the strong, but God favors the weak. We can see this in verse six, “Though the Lord is on high, he looks upon the lowly, but the proud he knows from afar.” Years after this Psalm was written, another lowly person echoed these words. Luke 2:52 – 53 say, “He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” These are the words of Mary, and in the gospel of Luke, they are the first words spoken by a human being in response to Jesus. When Jesus was in her womb, Mary reacted by praising God for God’s salvation reversal.

Jesus was literally, physically inside of Mary when she spoke these words. Jesus is, of course, not physically inside of us, but he is inside of the hearts of each of us today. Jesus life, death, and resurrection accomplished the work of God’s salvation reversal in our lives and in the whole world. You who are weak are strong because of Christ. You who are poor are rich because of Christ. You who are sinners are guiltless because of Christ. This is an amazing reversal. This is the kind of reputation that God has, and God lives up to that reputation in no way more strongly than by sending Jesus Christ into the world and into our hearts.

It is this reputation, it is this Jesus, that enables us to praise God. Like the psalmist, we have been given strength by God to praise God. Without God’s salvation, we would have nothing to offer to God. With God’s salvation, we, like the psalmist, can be bold in our praise. We can praise God because of what God has done in Jesus Christ. “I will bow down toward your holy temple and will praise your name,” says the psalmist, but why? “…for you have exalted above all things your name and your word. When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.” It is because of God’s salvation that the psalmist praises.

The hymn, “How Great Thou Art” expresses this well. Verse three proclaims, “But when I think that God, his Son not sparing, sent him to die, I scarce can take it in, that on the cross, my burden gladly bearing, he bled and died to take away my sin; Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee: how great thou art, how great thou art! Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee: how great thou art, how great thou art!” It is because Jesus bled and died to take away our sins that we can sing: how great thou art!

After all of this exuberant confidence, we may find the ending of Psalm 138 a little strange. Here’s the last verse, verse 8: “The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your love, O Lord, endures forever – do not abandon the works of your hands.” This verse starts with the same kind of confidence that we found earlier in the Psalm. “The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your love, O Lord, endures forever.” But after this, the Psalmist ends with a plea directed to God. “Do not abandon the works of your hands.” It seems as though the Psalmist actually fears that God might abandon the works of God’s hands. How is this possible, when he has just said that God’s love endures forever? These two ideas seem to contradict each other. How can we question God’s love if we know that it endures forever? Is the writer of this Psalm suddenly faltering in his faith?

I believe that what we see here is the fact that the writer of Psalm 138 has exactly the same kind of faith as any one of us here today. We know that God loves us, and that God’s love is the kind of love that will never end. We come to church and hear it proclaimed to us in word and in song. We read our Bibles at home and find the same thing. We read a Psalm like Psalm 138 and we find this truth of our faith again: “Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the anger of my foes, with your right hand you save me.” We know this is true.

And yet, in the midst of the hard reality of our lives, this is so easy to doubt. We may be the works of God’s hands, created and loved tenderly by God, but we still sometimes feel abandoned by God. We struggle with sickness, loneliness, broken relationships, and poverty. No wonder we say, with the Psalmist, “Do not abandon the works of your hands!”

Many Christians think that if they feel abandoned by God or if they are not able to praise with the same confidence as this psalmist, they are not loving God as they ought to. We sometimes fear that we can’t live up to the confidence of Psalm 138 when we are in the doubtful times of our lives. The end of this Psalm, however, assures us that to cry out to God for help in a time of doubt is not a sign of not loving God, it is simply a sign of honesty! We are lying to ourselves if we say that being a Christian automatically makes life easier. We are deceiving ourselves and God if we are always confident and never doubtful. Here, right in the middle of the most confident assertion of praise that he can muster, the psalmist admits that he sometimes is afraid that God will abandon him. This Psalm shows us that, more than empty praise, God values an honest response that is rooted in the reality of our lives of faith.

The story does not end, however, with the Psalmist feeling as though God might abandon him. Rather, the final verse of Psalm 138, which says, “do not abandon the works of your hands,” still reminds us that we are the works of God’s hands. In other words, because of who God is, because of that reputation that we talked about earlier, we know that God is the kind of God who lovingly cares for all of God’s creation. We may fear that God will abandon us, but when it comes to the reality of who God is, God will never abandon us! We are the works of God’s hands! Even in our fear and our doubt, God never lets us go.

It is no coincidence that God’s hands are referred to three times at the end of Psalm 138. The same hands that lovingly created us are the hands that hold us and care for us today. The same hands that saved the Psalmist in strength are the infant fingers that grab onto to the hair of his mother Mary. The same hands that molded Adam from the dust are the hands that were nailed to the cross, and because of that, for that very reason, we can praise. “Do not abandon the works of your hands” is like saying, “Don’t drop us, God! We know what your hands have done already, and that leads us to believe that you will always hold us firmly in your grasp.”

He’s got the whole world in his hands. We sing it because it’s fun. We sing it because we like the hand motions. And if we sing with Psalm 138, we sing it mostly because we are grateful for what our God has done. We are so grateful that we want to brag about our God to the whole world. We are grateful for the salvation reversal that Jesus brings. We are grateful even in the midst of our doubt and our fear of being abandoned. We are grateful and we praise because we know that he’s got the whole world – you and me, sister – you and me, brother – in his hands. Praise the Lord!

Matthew 21:33-46

October 27, 2006, PR201, Princeton Theological Seminary

“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.” Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the scriptures: ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.” When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.

Jesus often taught in parables, and for good reason. He was telling his listeners some difficult truths. They were the kind of truths that could not be expressed directly. They were better understood if they were painted in word pictures. Our text today paints a picture for us, as many parables do. Actually, it paints three pictures for us (funny how that worked out), and I would like to describe those pictures to you now.

In the first picture, a man owns a vineyard that he loves dearly. He builds a fence, a wine press, and a watchtower. He hires farmers to watch over the vineyard, all in the hopes of producing a bountiful harvest. When the time for harvest comes, he eagerly sends out his slaves to collect the fruit of the vineyard. He can’t wait to see what his beloved fields have produced.

As you just heard, this picture also includes the tenants killing the slaves, along with a second group of slaves that the landowner sends. Finally, in a reckless act of love, the landowner sends his son, who is also killed. If we didn’t recognize the allegory before, we certainly do now. This picture is of Jesus, lovingly sent by his father. Lovingly sent, indeed, but rejected by the tenants of Israel. Jesus is hauled out of Jerusalem just as the son was hauled out of the vineyard, and both are killed at the outskirts.

The tenants, when they saw the son, thought of the riches they could gain by killing him and stealing his inheritance. They didn’t understand that this was their last shot; they needed to give the son the fruit if they had any chance of coming back next season – or even of surviving the landowner’s anger. So too, Jesus was gravely misunderstood. The very chief priests and elders who listened to his story sought to silence him because of how dangerous he was. They had no idea who they were actually rejecting.

Let’s move to the second picture. This picture is one of a stone. The stone doesn’t look so good – it looks like it too has been drug outside the city gates and killed (if you can kill a stone). Yes, friends, this is a second parable and a second allegory, and the stone is also Jesus. The rejection that we saw in the first picture is still there, but in this picture we see something new. The stone is actually part of the foundation of a grand building. “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”

The same Jesus who was crucified has been raised. The rejection of Israel could not get in the way of God’s covenantal promise. Jesus was glorified. He was crucified on Friday, but he was raised on Sunday.

After all of that, who does the kingdom or the vineyard belong to now? It seems like it’s not for Israel alone. Is it taken away and given to Gentiles alone? No, it is given to a new group of people who are defined by nothing other than their participation in this death and resurrection of Jesus Christ: the church.

Yes, in this second picture, the kingdom belongs to a motley group of people. They don’t have much going for them on their own merit, but that’s exactly the point. They are gathered together by nothing other than the rejection of Jesus. The cornerstone of this building is only able to hold the building up because of his rejection. This is an ironic twist, and it is only accomplished in the mystery of God’s love.

In Jesus, the kingdom is opened to everyone. Galatians tells us that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek. The vineyard has been given to other tenants.

Let’s move on to the third picture. To see this picture, we need to back way up, because this picture is huge. In fact, pictures one and two are both parts of this larger picture. This picture is one of a God who covenants to be with God’s people. It begins with Abraham. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” It continues through a long and difficult history of the people of Israel, but God never gives up.

God sends prophets, and they are rejected. But God never gives up. God sends more prophets, and they too are rejected. But God never gives up. God sends God’s son, from within the people of Israel, with a covenant message of grace and forgiveness, once again showing that God will not give up on these people. The son, too, is rejected and killed – there’s picture number one. But God is so insistent on God’s covenant that the rejection of the son was actually part of God’s plan! Through him, this covenant is broadened to include a new group, the church – there’s picture number two. This picture has always been one of a God whose mercy is deep, and now we see that it is a picture of a God whose mercy is also wide. God never gives up.

It would seem that the murder of the slaves would have caused the landowner to give up, but he didn’t. It would seem that the murder of his own son would have caused the landowner to give up, but he still didn’t. It would seem that the builder’s rejection of the stone would cause the stone to give up, but it simply won’t. God is impervious to our rejection. God never gives up on us!

Now that we have seen this picture, what are we to do? Matthew is implicitly asking this question of us, his readers. We are, after all, the new tenants. Will we bear the fruit of good works for the landowner? This is an important question, and not to be ignored. God calls us to faithful service, to give all that we have and all that we are to be transformed by God into who God would have us to be. We have decisions to make every day about whether we will live for God or live for ourselves.

If we choose to live for God, we have made the right choice. We can know greater love for our neighbors and greater rewards that come from self-sacrifice. We live faithfully into the covenant of God.

If we choose to live for ourselves, we have made the wrong choice. We are stifling the possibilities for love that God has created us to enjoy. We are not living up to the covenant calling that God has issued. But that doesn’t mean that we’ve ended the story. God never gives up!

Our rejection, like the rejection of the tenants, has nothing on God’s enduring covenant faithfulness. God cares about our response and God covets our response, but God’s faithfulness to us does not depend on our faithfulness to God. God never gives up.

Jesus was rejected. Jesus was raised from death, opening the kingdom to a new community of both Jews and Gentiles. We are called to respond in faithfulness because no matter if we do or if we don’t, we have a God who is eternally faithful. God never gives up.

Psalm 22:1-15

October 15, 2006, First Presbyterian Church of Dutch Neck

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. To you they cried, and were saved; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame. But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others, and despised by the people. All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads; “Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver – let him rescue the one in whom he delights!” Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother’s breast. On you I was cast from my birth, and since my mother bore me you have been my God. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls of Bashan surround me; they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion. I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.

Psalm 22 is a psalm of lament. Not only that, it is a forceful psalm of lament. It seems to come from the very depths of the psalmist’s pain. This is no small complaint for God’s ears – “Lord, I know this is your will, so it must be good, but it’s just hard for me to understand.” No, the Psalmist holds nothing back: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It seems to be a profound kind of pain that the psalmist is experiencing.

Then, in a few scattered verses throughout the Psalm, we find words of praise to God! When we read this psalm, we may find this strange. It seems like in such deep pain, the psalmist would have a hard time even addressing God, let alone continuing to praise God. When we wonder about this, we wonder not just because we are curious about the Bible. We wonder at the psalmist’s courage to lament and praise because we too have felt forsaken by God.

Now, it is a joyful thing to be a Christian. The Bible proclaims God’s love for God’s children, and we see evidence of that love in our daily lives. We rightly see God the creator as the source of blessings in our lives. But we know, too, that being a Christian is not a ticket to a rosy life. What about the times when that same loving God is nowhere to be found? What about the times when someone we love is taken away from us? What about the times when physical pain keeps us from living an ordinary life? What about the times when we are teased by classmates, even by those whom we considered to be our best friends? What about the times when depression grips our mind and steers us toward despair? It is at times like these that we too, cry out, “Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?”

When I started reading through this Psalm, I said to myself, “I’m in a good place in life right now. This psalm of lament doesn’t really speak to me. Why don’t I skip Psalm 22 and move on to the next one, the one with the green pastures and the quiet waters and the cup overflowing. That’s the kind of faith experience that I like to think about.” But as a member of the Christian community, I need to recognize that I am deeply in need of lament. Here’s one reason: October is domestic violence awareness month, a month in which we as a nation recognize our problem – that one in four women will experience domestic violence at some point in her life. We must work for change, certainly, but we also must lament that this is happening. It is at times like these that we too, cry out, “O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.”

How on earth or in heaven, we wonder, does the psalmist have the guts to turn around and say, “Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.” Praises? Where did this come from?

What we see in verses four and five are a kind of snapshot of God from the past. The Psalmist remembers God’s faithfulness to the people of Israel throughout their history. Because the psalmist can see God nowhere in the present, he or she needs to dig into the past to remember that God actually does care about God’s people. “In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.” After this, the Psalm goes back to lamenting. Nevertheless, the readers now know that the God who has “forsaken me” is also “…the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” in love and faithfulness. God has been good to the people in the past. It is this sense of communal memory that enables the psalmist to praise.

In verses nine and ten, another snapshot is pulled out of the family album. The first photo was of God’s faithfulness to the whole family. This second snapshot is of God’s faithfulness in the psalmist’s own life. The sense of trust that the psalmist felt in God is so secure and so innocent that the picture is one of a nursing baby.

It is not that the psalmist still feels as safe as a nursing baby. After all, the very next verse talks about being surrounded by violent beasts! However, for just a moment the psalmist remembers the times in life when God seemed very near. It was like being a baby – almost asleep in mother’s strong arms, being gently rocked back and forth. God has been good to me in the past. It is this sense of individual memory that enables the psalmist to praise.

As human beings in this world, we understand the Psalmist’s cry of lament. We speak the Psalmist’s cry of lament – we have to! As Christians, we cannot put on a false front and pretend that our faith makes everything okay. But, we do have a sort of snapshot of our own to look back at – a snapshot that is brought to mind by this very Psalm.

Most of us recognize these words from either Matthew or Mark. “From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” The Psalmist’s deep cry of lament was recited by Jesus on the cross. The snapshot that we remember as Christians, then, is not one of Jesus smiling on us while we continue along in our miseries. The snapshot is one of Jesus in deep pain and agony. The snapshot is one of darkness covering the land and the son of God dying a humiliating and painful death. This is anything but a false front. We Christians do not have a God who cannot feel pain, who sits and watches while we flounder in this world. No, we have a God who stoops down, sits next to us, and joins us in crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Nicholas Wolterstorff is a Christian philosopher who lost his 25-year-old son in a mountain climbing accident. Wolterstorff experienced crushing grief after this loss. He also realized things about God that he never had before. He wrote, “How is faith to endure, O God, when you allow all this scraping and tearing on us? You have allowed rivers of blood to flow, mountains of suffering to pile up, sobs to become humanity’s song – all without lifting a finger that we could see. You have allowed bonds of love beyond number to be painfully snapped. If you have not abandoned us, explain yourself. We strain to hear. But instead of hearing an answer we catch sight of God himself scraped and torn. Through our tears we see the tears of God.” (Lament for a Son. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987. 80)

In Jesus, we have an empathetic fellow-sufferer. But, praise God, we also have an empathetic Savior. The very pain that brings Jesus down to our level is the same pain that, in the mystery of God’s love, brings us up into communion with God. God suffers our pain, but God is also greater than our pain.

We can’t wish away our suffering, as much as we would like to. What we can do in the midst of that suffering is to hope with confidence for the day when “…God will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4)

What, then, are we to do in the mean time? We live lives of pain in a world of pain, but we have hope. We don’t have a cheap hope that comes with a wink and a smile, but our hope is in the crucified one whom we call our Lord. We lament, knowing that Christ laments alongside us.

When we encounter others in pain, we give them a snapshot of Christ as well. This snapshot does not come from simply saying, “Jesus loves you,” (though that is certainly true) nor by reciting platitudes, however true they may be as well. The way that we Christians can truly point to Christ in the midst of suffering is to lament alongside of those who lament! We can witness to the Lord who laments when we are willing to lament ourselves. Wolterstorff, in the midst of his own lamenting, wrote, “Your words don’t have to be wise. The heart that speaks is heard more than the words spoken. And if you can’t think of anything at all to say, just say, ‘I can’t think of anything to say. But I want you to know that we are with you in your grief.’” (34)

We lament in the company of the whole body of Christ. We lament, knowing that Christ himself laments with us. We lament, knowing that our crucified Lord is now our risen Lord. We lament until the day when he comes again. Even so, come Lord Jesus!