Acts 2:42-27 It seems more than a coincidence to me that we read this passage about the early church on Mother’s Day. When you think about it, it seems like the early church acted just like our mothers would want us to! When God gave birth to the church, so to speak, it behaved like the family of a loving, caring mom. How can we do what they did so our church will be faithful and grow? 1. Make Worship a Priority “They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God….” The early church was built on prayer, worship, and fellowship. An expressive, worshipful church results from sincere praise and communion with the Savior. It’s not something you schedule to draw a crowd. To become a worshiping church means focus has been shifted. Our natural inclination is to worship other “gods,” lesser things like money and power. But the Bible teaches that we are put on this earth primarily to know and walk with the God who made us and to bring glory to His name. Our worship of God must engage the mind, but it must also engage the affections, the heart, our emotions, and our spirit. That does not mean that worship has to necessarily be emotional or involve an outward emotional display to be “in the spirit,” but it does mean the heart must be engaged. We show outward excitement and worship to sports, musicians, and celebrities. It would seem only right that God would deserve more. A worshiping church is a place where God is exalted in spirit and in truth. 2. Open Your Heart and Your Hands to Others “Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved.” As we read the accounts of the first church, it becomes clear that literally everything they did culminated in reaching out to new people with the gospel. We should want to go and share our faith. We talk about what is important to us. The early believers had been touched by Jesus; He had forever changed their lives, so much so that they were willing to give their lives for Him. It has nothing to do with winning a debate with someone who believes differently from what we believe. It has everything to do with sharing who we are and what is vital in our lives. Evangelism was not a planned event in the early church; it was a natural out growth of a healthy relationship with Christ. The early believers took everyday situations and turned them into opportunities to share the Gospel. They stepped out in faith and spoke the truth of the Gospel and God showed up. 3. Magnanimously give “Now all who believed were together, and had all things in common…continuing daily with one accord…and having favor with all people.” This sentence illustrates just how literally we’re called to love one another. The reason the early church could share their possessions was that they were actually living out the second great commandment to love their neighbor as themselves. We see that their unity and love were so powerful that “all the people” thought well of them. And isn’t that just what our moms teach us, to be loving, kind, generous, and faithful? Who wouldn’t want to join in on such a love fest where everyone was cared about and accepted? As a result, their numbers exploded and thousands came to Christ! When we are talking about being a loving church we are talking about a people who are connected to one another in close fellowship and people who serve one another in true ministry. Jesus said in Matthew 19:19 “Love your neighbor as yourself.” What would happen if we truly began to take Jesus at His world and live this way? What would this do to our church? Can you imagine how different things would be if we operated by this principle? What would it be like if we really were as concerned about others’ happiness, problems, and disappointments as we are about our own? Our love one for another is one of our greatest witnesses to the world. It backs up everything that we are trying to do and say to the world. Remember in Acts all the believers were as one? The response was a daily adding to their numbers. People came to Jesus because they saw how Christians loved each other. People still come to Jesus when they see how we love each other. So, on this Mother’s Day, let’s listen to our moms: Let’s make worship a priority, open our hearts and hands to others, and be magnanimous. Let’s be more like the early church, which was a small refuge in a multi-cultural society fighting for its life. And if we do, the 21st century church will blossom just as the first century church did.
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I love the story of Jesus walking with two of his disciples on the Road to Emmaus, (Luke 24:13-35) because it is a picture in miniature of the path we all take as disciples.
In the beginning of our journey, Jesus is a stranger to us. Oh, sure, we hear the stories about Him in the Bible. We sing the hymns at church. But what do we really know about Jesus? He seems very far away from our daily lives. A Jewish carpenter who lived 2,000 years ago; an itinerant preacher whose lessons are more cryptic than clear; a person who was willing to die when He had it within his power to escape death – Jesus is truly a stranger to us and to our whole way of life. But as we grow in faith, we begin to invite Jesus to be our guest. We want to spend more time with Him and learn about what He has to teach us. This is all on our own terms, of course. When it is convenient for us we ask Him over – we pray to Him, or we read about Him, we begin to participate in worship and ponder His difficult sayings. As time goes on, though, and we become more convinced that Jesus is who He said He was, we eventually reverse roles, and become the guests at Jesus’ table. We open ourselves to Him, not only as our Host at communion, but also as the Lord of our lives. Instead of fitting Him into our schedule, we let Him dictate the schedule and fit our lives into His purpose. We become a part of his Body and we acknowledge Him as our head. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all this could take place in one day, as it did for those disciples on the Road to Emmaus? For most of us, it takes a lifetime, and our journey is not a straight path, but one that doubles back and snakes around as we wrestle with Jesus over who is in control of our lives. But the truth is, we all can open our eyes to Christ’s leading in our lives wherever we are. When our hearts burn as we hear His message, Jesus is speaking to us. When we commune at His table, Jesus is hosting us. When we pour ourselves out in compassion and love the way He did, no matter how worthy the recipient, Jesus is guiding our hearts, minds, and souls. And the best thing about traveling on the Road to Emmaus is that in the end you don’t just reach a dusty village. You find your way to the Kingdom of God. In the Gospels we read how Mary of Magdala came to anoint the body of Jesus with spices. Mary was beside herself, lost in grief, for she could not find her Lord. Suddenly she noticed someone behind her - the gardener perhaps? "Woman, why are you crying?" he asked her. "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him." Mary would do anything and go anywhere to retrieve Jesus' body. He, of all men, deserved a proper resting place.Then she heard her name, "Mary." In that instant Mary recognized her Lord. She clung to him and wouldn't let him go.
When Jesus spoke her name - "Mary" - everything changed. She had been looking for Jesus, but Jesus had found her. It was she who was lost, not him. It was she, bent over in despair at the tomb, who needed lifting up. Jesus, the living one, raised from the dead, found Mary and transformed her life. So it was for the rest of Jesus' disciples. Cleopas was on his way to Emmaus, trying to process with a friend all that had happened to Jesus. Jesus' closest disciples were huddled together behind closed doors in Jerusalem, mourning and afraid that they too might be arrested. Others had gone back to fishing, not knowing what else to do. Yet whether on the road to Emmaus, confused and bewildered, or in a room locked in fear, or in their boats, laboring and frustrated over yet another dismal attempt at catching fish, Jesus came to his own. In their need he spoke their name - "Thomas," "Simon Peter," "Cleopas" - and their eyes were opened, their hearts burned, and they believed. The disciples, scattered and aimless, each in his or her own way was found by Jesus, brought back to life by the one who was still doing his Father's work. "Why seek the living among the dead?" the two angels asked Mary. "He is not here; he has risen!" Yes, Jesus was gone, missing. And yet he was alive. One by one his disciples encountered him anew and were changed forever. Jesus was on the loose, finding all those who could not find him, seeking out all those who could seek no more, revealing himself to those whose hopes and beliefs had been shattered.As with Mary, Jesus still comes to us. Yet if we are not careful, we may not notice him. We may be too wrapped up in the material world, bent over with the weight of things that don't last. We may even be looking where Jesus can't be found: in security and comfort, achievement and wealth. Jesus is not there. And yet he goes ahead of us to our various "Galilees," to transform those familiar places where we feel safe and secure but where we, despite all our good efforts, remain empty. He penetrates the walls we hide behind so we might believe again. He interrupts us on the roads of everyday life, in the midst of confusion and controversy, to open our hearts and minds to the kingdom of God. Easter must never become a remembrance, a mere celebration, or worse, a discussion or debate. For Jesus wants to come to us again and again, here and now. As with Mary, he calls each one of us by name. And he asks us: Why are you crying? Who are you looking for? What are you straining to find? What is upsetting you so? Why are you afraid? He speaks into our hearts, personally, directly, so we can see him as he really is. Our lost Lord finds us. Jesus comes to everyone who feels lost without him. This is the miracle of Easter. On our own, we can never find him. But he can find us. Our names are on his lips. Several of my parishioners have shared this e-mail with me, and it is so worth reading I thought I would pass it on. Merry Christmas, everyone! Pastor Jean The "W" in Christmas - Author Unknown Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience, I had cut back on nonessential obligations -- extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas. My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant." I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song. Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title. Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row-center stage -- held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love." The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down -- totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W." The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W." Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities. For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: "C H R I S T W A S L O V E" And, I believe, He still is. Amazed in His presence... Humbled by His love. May each of you have a Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year as you reflect on His Amazing Love for us. Hope you all have a wonderful Christwaslove holiday season. Here is one of my favorite Gary Larsen “Far Side” cartoons. That boy is just like us. We’re not too good at reading the signs.The disciples were not too good at reading the signs; at least, not the signs that matter. They were sitting there opposite the massive Temple, gaping at the shining stones and dazzling jewels, perhaps thinking silently that the Temple building is what connects them to God. Then Jesus, unimpressed, tells them, “All of that is going to be nothing more than a pile of rubble.” The disciples, shocked, ask, “Teacher, when will this be? What will be the sign that this will take place?” They want to know when the Temple will be destroyed. They want a sign to look for. I can’t help but chuckle at Jesus’ answer, because it’s so obvious. The sign is not esoteric, hidden or mysterious at all. Basically Jesus tells them, “Well, when you see an army camped around the Temple about to take it over, that’s going to be the end of it. They’re going to tear it down.” Here’s your sign. Sure enough, around the year A.D. 70 a large Roman army razed the Temple to the ground: not one stone left on another, every one of them thrown down. The sign Jesus gave could be trusted. In the next breath, though, Jesus goes on to speak of other signs. Jesus moves from describing the signs of the destruction of the Temple to describing the signs that will be seen when he returns, when he comes again in final victory. And again, his message seems to be that signs of the final victory will be obvious. They won’t be esoteric or mysterious or hidden. He says, “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, the roaring of the sea, people fainting, the powers of the heavens shaken, the Son of Man coming in a cloud.” I don’t know about you, but if tomorrow I were to see crazy stuff happening in the sun and moon and stars and then see the Son of Man surfing a cloud up at the sky, I won’t need an expert in the end times to let me know that maybe something’s going on. In a sense, the Kingdom of God is always near. And when it comes in its fullness, Jesus says, “Trust me, you’ll know.” So we don’t have to be like the little kid on the long car trip who keeps asking every ten minutes, “Are we there yet?” “Are we almost there yet?” When we get there, we’ll know. The kingdom is near, and it's coming with all its fullness soon. And until then, I can't help but think that Jesus is more interested in the signs to be seen here on earth than the signs to be seen in the heavens -- not signs in the sun and moon and stars, but signs in you and me. We're not so much looking for signs; we are the signs. Signs of God's kingdom. We live the heavenly life here on earth, signs pointing to God's good future and final victory. The theologian Karl Barth had a painting of the crucifixion by the artist Matthias Grunewald on the wall of his study. In the painting there is an image of John the Baptist, his extra long finger raised, directing and pointing the onlooker to the cross of Jesus. It’s said that when Barth would talk with visitors about his work, he would direct them to John the Baptist in the painting, and he would say, “I want to be that finger.” I want to be a sign pointing to the victory of Christ.” We are the people who have read the end of the book. We know how the story ends. We know God is victorious. And so we as God’s people, in our life of love together, it’s not that we stand on a corner holding a sign that says, “The End is Near.” But we live in such a way that our life is a sign reading, “The New Beginning is Near.” We are the beachhead of the kingdom. We’re like the trailer of a movie that makes people look forward to seeing the full show. We’re like the warm-up act that gets people pumped up for the concert that is about to begin. We’re the appetizer that makes people hunger for the full feast. People don’t have to travel through time on a mysterious island or gaze into a crystal ball to look into the future. They can simply look at the life of the faithful, loving Christian. The sign Jesus gives can be trusted. A missionary meets a cannibal, and it does not go well. He is eaten. But the cannibal is so impressed by the demeanor of the missionary as he awaits death, that he is converted. So how will these two be raised from the dead? Part of the missionary would have to be part of the cannibal! This was the gist of an atheist pamphlet that triumphantly concluded it had so ridiculed the notion of resurrection, and its logical knots and impossibilities, that no one could possibly continue to believe in it. A similar argument is being used by the Sadducees against Jesus in the Luke reading for this week. They are confident they have exposed the notion of resurrection for the stupidity which it is. The Sadducees were being snarky, for sure. They weren’t talking about their own deaths or the death of their loved ones. They were trying to trip Jesus up in the ridiculous nature of the scenario they spun. If a woman is married 7 times in this world, to whom will she belong in the next world when all the resurrected people get back together again? Jesus tells them they have completely missed the point. Yes, they have outlined the custom of Levirate marriage, which was a way of ensuring the continuance of the family line, even if they use an extreme example. To make sure his family line was continued if a man died, his brother provided an heir with the surviving wife. Jesus disputes nothing about the custom. But the Sadducees assume in their argument that resurrection life is of the same quality, or same order, as our present life. They expect people will marry, for example. Their argument depends on this. They are wrong, according to Jesus, because the life of the resurrection will be fundamentally different. "They neither marry, nor are given in marriage." So what is resurrection? We can see that there is a problem with treating it as being of the same qualitative order as this life; it makes no sense. Jesus also understood it as different to life now. "They neither marry, nor are given in marriage … they do not die because they are angels and children of God, being children of resurrection." Resurrection is about a new kind of life in every respect. Although Jesus is answering the Sadducees, he is also addressing everyone within earshot, and some of them have very real concerns about the nature of resurrection. What will it be like after we die? Levirate marriage, as the Sadducees were describing, existed for the purpose of ensuring children to men in the patrilineal system. If we give the benefit of a doubt, we could consider that levirate marriage protected women by giving them a household to belong to when their husbands died. But if everyone is a child of God, then issues of lineage no longer apply. Everyone has a “name” in the family of God—they are children of the resurrection, not children of men. Even women have a household to belong to, the household of God, and they no longer need marriage to ensure that. Marriage is, of course, a huge issue in our contemporary society too. Who gets to marry whom, and what does it mean? The Sadducees asked their question based on the law, the books of Moses, and Jesus gave an answer rooted in the same text. They talked about women belonging to men, and Jesus talked about people belonging to God. Ultimately resurrection is about trust in the goodness of God. Resurrection reflects a thirst for justice, and a hope that God is just rather than arbitrary and unfair, or powerless. Resurrection is a trust in the love of God that includes us in a household that is more loving than any we experience on earth. And so we can persevere in this life, knowing that we belong to God and the relationship we have with the God of the living transcends even death. Luke 19:1-10. Zacchaeus, the Patron Saint of Tree Climbers, was -- as the old Sunday school song tells us -- a "wee little man." Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector -- a local entrepreneur who employed other tax collectors to collect all the tolls, tariffs and taxes in the local area, in this case the town of Jericho. The tax collectors could charge the people whatever tax bill they wanted as long as their Roman overseers got paid the appropriate share. Whatever was left over got pocketed by the tax collectors as profit, and no one in that system would have profited more than a man like Zacchaeus. It's no wonder, then, that tax collectors were among the most hated people in first-century Israel. They were the ones who often left their fellow Judeans "up a tree" over their heavy taxes and shrinking incomes. Jesus, however, seemed to gravitate toward these nefarious entrepreneurs. He chose the tax collector, Matthew, to be one of his disciples, and earlier in Luke's gospel, the religious establishment repeatedly mocks Jesus for being a "friend of tax collectors and sinners." Maybe that's why Zacchaeus wants so desperately to see Jesus -- the tax collector doesn't have any other friends, only enemies among the townspeople. Zacchaeus wants to see Jesus so badly, in fact, that he "ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him because he was going to pass that way" (19:4). As Jesus came into town, he noticed Zacchaeus there, up a tree in more ways than one. For Zacchaeus and for many people who find themselves on the margins of society, being up and away from the crowd can be a safe refuge. Ultimately, however, living in the trees doesn't work. Eventually, you have to come down, and, when you do, it's better to have someone there to catch you. Jesus looked at Zacchaeus hanging on a sycamore branch and said, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today" (v. 5). Jesus calls him down from being up a tree, out on a limb and hanging onto life by his fingernails. In doing so, Jesus continues to be guilty as charged for hanging out with all the wrong people. Indeed, the crowd began to "grumble," saying, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner" (v. 7). Zacchaeus had gone up a tree seeking Jesus, but it was Jesus who came seeking Zacchaeus on his way to Jerusalem. "The Son of Man came to seek out and save the lost," says Jesus, and showing up in the house of this tiny tax collector demonstrated to everyone in the crowd that those who were up a tree in their lives were the ones Jesus was and is seeking. Interestingly, that last statement of Jesus in this passage has most often been used to suggest that saving "the lost" is all about private and personal conversion, which results in getting someone's soul into heaven at death. What happens to Zacchaeus, however, is a much more comprehensive kind of salvation -- It is a salvation that comes to the whole "house" and results in a transformative healing of the whole person in the present, not just the future. The salvation that Jesus offers changes Zacchaeus' life through and through, and, as a result, it benefits those around him. The poor benefit from Zacchaeus' change from greed to generosity, receiving half of the tax collector's possessions, which would have been substantial. Those who have been defrauded by Zacchaeus' corrupt actions will receive a four-fold restitution, making them suddenly solvent and secure again (v. 8). When Zacchaeus is saved, the whole community benefits. When the lost are found, the trees get shaken and everyone enjoys the "fruit" that comes from repentance (3:8). Jesus came looking for people who were up a tree. Indeed, we've all been up a tree ever since that day in the garden when our spiritual ancestors went up a tree looking for something other than God (Genesis 3). Jesus has come to invite us down, to offer us a new life, to live lives that reflect the kind of healing, wholeness and salvation his kingdom brings. Jesus tells the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, addressing it to people who feel self-righteous (Luke 18:9). He is speaking to us — average people who tend to see themselves as better than average, those of us with Lake Wobegon Syndrome. You know about Lake Wobegon, Garrison Keillor's fictional town where all the children are above average. Studies show that nine in 10 managers rate themselves as superior to their average colleagues, as do nine in 10 college professors. According to professor of psychology David Myers, most drivers — even those who have been hospitalized after accidents — believe themselves to be safer and more skilled than the average driver.
Jesus says that two men go up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and one a tax collector (v. 10). The natural assumption made by anyone hearing this story is that the Pharisee is the devout person — the good driver! The tax collector, on the other hand, is the sinner, the bad driver. Sure enough, the Pharisee steps away from the crowd in order to maintain his purity before God, and launches into a list of all his religious accomplishments: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income” (vv. 11-12). He does everything right, according to the standards of the day, obeying all the religious rules of the road. In keeping God’s commandments, he is way above average. Then the tax collector bows his head, beats his breast, and says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (v. 13). He’s feeling so ashamed that he cannot even raise his hands and look up to heaven, which is the standard position for first-century prayer. The tax collector doesn’t make any boasts or excuses — he simply asks for God’s mercy. So the above-average Pharisee boasts, while the sin-sick tax collector says, “My bad.” They both connect with God, right? Wrong! In a surprising twist, Jesus concludes the parable by saying, “I tell you, this [tax collector] went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” The tax collector restores his relationship with God by asking for forgiveness, while the Pharisee moves farther away from God by boasting of his righteousness. This isn’t what the hearers of the parable expect. They’ve been taught, as we have, that good behavior draws you closer to God, while bad behavior drives you away. But Jesus insists that we be aware of our secret faults and humble enough to know we need forgiveness. It’s time for us to do some soul searching, confess our hidden faults, and say to God, “My bad.” One fault that can really hurt us is our failure to see the image of God in the people around us. Another is to judge others more harshly than we judge ourselves. Finally, we blow it when we are not honest with God — or honest with ourselves — about our need for forgiveness. Each of us needs to be forgiven, whether we acknowledge it or not, just as the Pharisee needed to be cleansed of the sin of pride when he said, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people” (v. 11). It’s time to get honest — honest with God, and honest with ourselves. We cannot go home justified, restored to right relationship with God and one another, unless we admit that we need to be forgiven, just like every other person on earth. I’ll never forget my daughter Maeve’s 17th Birthday. We were on vacation in Williamsburg, VA, at the time, but there was no way she was going to miss the appointment for her driver’s license test, which she had made exactly a year earlier on her 16th birthday, the day she got her permit. We drove six hours to the DMV at Baker’s Basin. I peeked out the window of the waiting room as she attempted to parallel park, and I honestly couldn’t tell if she had made it. But when she got out of the car with a big smile on her face, I knew she had passed and my worries were just going to get bigger! She had gotten the state's approval to drive, and I was going to have to share the road with her.
What would it take for us to get God's seal of approval? Paul gives Timothy a list of criteria for licensure as a God-approved worker, and each of these criteria can speak to us about what effective Christian faith looks like. We're not just to shoot for the bare minimum requirements, but we are to work at maximizing each of these traits in our lives: First, proclaiming the gospel (v. 8). "Remember Jesus Christ raised from the dead, a descendant of David -- that is my gospel," writes Paul. ). The gospel transforms the world, and Christian workers must be ready to work with and for God in sharing the good news. Secondly, practicing endurance (vv. 10-13). When we die with Christ we are raised to live a new life -- a life that "reigns" with Christ as he reigns over the world (v. 12). The Christian life is not easy and we will struggle, but Paul reminds us that God is always faithful. Thirdly, avoiding stupid arguments (vv. 14, 16, 23). Christians are notorious for engaging in stupid arguments about minor points in the faith. God-approved Christian workers constantly focus on important things like the gospel, the kingdom and the word of God, not the things that divide us. Finally, Rightly explaining the word of truth (v. 15). The "approved" worker (which means "tried and tested" in Greek) is qualified by the constant trying, testing and wrestling with the truth of God as he or she studies the Scriptures and tests them out in his or her own life. An approved Christian worker is always cutting through the junk that keeps people from following the basics of the gospel by straightening out the crooked and confusing ways that the gospel of Jesus' lordship gets twisted. Licensed Christian workers, then, are those who devote a great deal of time to prayer and studying Scripture as a means of constantly honing their knowledge and love of God and God's Word. Following Christ requires us to continue to work on these skills as part of God's overall plan for changing us so that we can participate with God in changing the world. No trip to the DMV is necessary, just a daily focus on doing our best for God and the mission to which we are called! Hypocrisy! It’s perhaps the single biggest reason people say they don’t go to church. In fact, according to UnChristian, a book based on surveys done by the Barna Research Group, among people with no religious affiliation in the 16- to 29-year-old bracket, 85% say one reason they don’t go to church is because Christians are hypocritical. And it’s such an easy dodge. One word: hypocrisy. Someone has suggested the best response might be, “There’s always room for one more.” There’s a kind of truth to what they’re claiming. If you’re looking for a group of people who always live up to their highest values and who never say one thing and do another, you’ll need to look somewhere other than the church, though I doubt you’ll find a group totally free of inconsistency anywhere. It can be a healthy thing to acknowledge the contradictions between our profession of faith and our daily actions, but it’s also useful to qualify our confession a bit. In the New Testament, the only time Jesus hurled the charge of hypocrisy was when people were doing something deliberately to appear outwardly different from what they were inwardly. For example, he spoke about people who gave to charity “so that they may be praised by others” (Matthew 6:2). Likewise, he spoke against those who “love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others” (v. 5). He also chided the scribes and Pharisees for putting on appearances, saying, “For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth” (Matthew 23:27). Jesus called all of those people hypocrites, and the Greek word that’s translated “hypocrite” actually means “actor” or “stage player.” How many church attendees do you suppose get up on Sunday morning and think, “I’m going to go to church so I can pretend to be righteous and appear to be holy”? No, when we church people admit to being hypocrites, we aren’t usually confessing to playacting. More often, we mean that we failed to follow through on our good intentions or that we can still see the gap between the people we are called to be and the people we actually are. But we aren’t trying to deceive anybody; we’re seeing where we still need to work to bring our behavior up to the level of what we really believe. It appears, then, that when somebody is outside the church and has no intention of coming in, it’s easy for him or her to say it’s because of hypocrisy in the church. And there are some gaps between our best intentions and our follow-through. But church insiders are more likely to see those gaps differently. In other words, if you really get involved with members of a congregation, you are less likely to see problems in the church in terms of hypocrisy and more in terms of human failure. And when you’re talking about human failure, it’s easier to include yourself in that category. In fact, many people stay in the church because, though they recognize imperfections among both fellow attendees and themselves, they also see it’s a place where we’re called higher. And if you pay attention in church, you’ll often see people who are working very hard to follow Jesus faithfully. Thus, one good reason to come to church is because it puts us in company with other people who also see that gap between their profession and practice, and care enough to want to narrow it. In church, we find people who aren’t that different from ourselves and who are on faith journeys similar to ours. And there is always room for one more! |
Rev. Dr. Shannon SmytheUnited Presbyterian Church Archives
March 2023
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