Love God, Love Neighbor

Below is a copy and recording to my sermon for today (the recording was made on Friday, October 23, at Mayberry Church, so it might not be exactly the same as the text). The text is found below the .embedded video.

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
October 25, 2020
Matthew 22:15-40

At the Beginning of the Service: This morning we’re going to again dig into Matthew’s gospel. I’ll stay with Matthew for the next several weeks. 

The 22nd. Chapter, from which I preached last week and will again look at this week, along with the 23rd Chapter, are a block of teachings that marks the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry. In these two chapters, Jesus teaches the crowds during his last week in Jerusalem. But at the end of this teaching, Jesus leaves the temple with his disciples. From that point on, the teaching Jesus did that’s recorded in Matthew’s gospel was done privately with the disciples. 

Matthew begins Jesus’ ministry, after the baptism, with 40 days of fasting that ends with three temptations by the devil in the wilderness. Jesus’ ministry ends with three questions asked by those who would also attempt to trick Jesus.[1] But Jesus didn’t fall for the temptation or for the trick questions as he constantly focused on God in heaven. 

Our text today ends with Jesus’ double love commandment: love God and love your neighbor. I encourage you to spend some time this week thinking about how the double love commandment might help us, as Christians, heal the world.

After the Scripture Reading: Before I get too far into the sermon, let me make it clear that I’m not a big fan of professional wrestling. I don’t like the hype, the bragging, the fakery, or much of anything else about it. However, I admit, it can be entertaining and there have been a few times that I’ve gotten sucked in and found it humorous. 

Don’t you like how they set up the characters on the mat. One fighter represents good and the other evil, a symbolic Armageddon. It’s also interesting how they do tag team wrestling, where one guy who is getting pounded can, before he’s down, reach out and tag another dude who takes over the fight.  

Jesus might have felt he was a team of one against a group of tag-team wrestlers. First in the ring are the Herodians and the Pharisees.[2] Politics, it’s said, makes strange bedfellows and that’s the case here. These two groups wouldn’t normally speak to each other, but they come together against Jesus, asking him about paying taxes.[3] Jesus’ answer, give to Emperor what is the Emperors, stumps them. They run out of the ring and tag the Sadducees who step up and ask Jesus a trick question about marriage in the afterlife. This is ironic, as the text points out, since the Sadducees don’t believe in an afterlife.[4] In the Greek, Jesus’ answer to the Sadducees was to “muzzle” them,[5] which is a little stronger than the English translations that read, “He silenced them.” Think of muzzling a dog! Sounds like a pro-wrestling stunt, doesn’t it?  

         As I said earlier, our reading somewhat parallels the fourth chapter of the gospel, where Jesus is tempted in the wilderness. In the fourth chapter, Jesus answers the temper’s challenges with three God-centered responses. Here, Jesus also answers those who question and test him three times with God-centered responses. First, with the question from the Herodians and Pharisees concerning the paying of taxes, Jesus approves paying taxes, but since, as the Jews would have known, God owns everything,[6] he shrewdly makes the case that all belongs to God. Then, in a question over the resurrection, Jesus reminds us that God has power over even death. 

Finally, Pharisee climb back into the ring for one final challenge, a question about the law. Which commandment is the greatest? It’s a trick question. 

         Jesus doesn’t directly answer the question. There’s good reason. Had Jesus picked one of the Ten Commandments, he’d be stepping into their trap, for the commandments are equal. They’re all important; you can’t grade yourself by looking at the Ten and thinking that because you’ve kept seven, you’ll get a passing grade of 70. That doesn’t work. Jesus knew what they were getting at, so he answers in a way that goes to sum of the commandments, by drawing from Scripture two teachings that other teachers had seen as foundational.[7]  

         Yoking together the love of God and of neighbor summarizes our purpose as members of the human race. As the Westminster Catechism so beautifully begins, we’re to glorify and enjoy God forever. We do this by loving God and our neighbors (and we can’t forget, as Jesus teaches, that our neighbors are not just those who live next door. Remember the Good Samaritan?[8]). As humans, we are made to love. 

Too often we think of love in the context of affection. We think of love as an emotional rush we get when we are attracted to another. That’s not the meaning of Biblical love. Yes, we can be emotional when we think of all that God has done for us, but the passage Jesus quotes on loving God with all our hearts and souls and minds doesn’t mean that we have to be all mushy about who God is. Instead, what is demanded is commitment—emotionally and intellectually—to God. Likewise, it’s pretty hard for us to show affection to everyone (and probably pretty dangerous). If we tried to show such affection, we’d have a difficult time with at least two of the commandments: the seventh and tenth, adultery and coveting. We’re not called to the affectionate love of neighbors. Instead, we’re called to be committed to the well-being of our neighbors (and we can’t forget Jesus’ reminder that our neighbors include our enemies[9]). 

         By tying together our heart, soul and mind, Jesus implies that our love for God has to be total. It’s not enough to be emotionally in love with God, nor is it enough to be intellectually in love with God. We got to have both! We need to be holistic and love with the entirety of our being.  

         Dr. Robert Smith, Jr., a preaching professor at Beeson Divinity School tells about how he sometimes finds himself preaching to “beheaded people.” They’ve lost their heads; they’re only engaging God with their hearts, he says. They come to worship wanting the equivalent of a therapy session.” In other congregations, and sometimes in the same church, he finds himself preaching to “big-headed people.” They’re into scholarship and all they want is to have the gray matter in their minds massaged.[10]

Both groups, Smith points out, miss the richness of the gospel. We’re to love God with all our hearts and souls and minds. Our love for God is to be holistic and we’re to be led out from it, not only feeling good about our neighbors but to take their needs seriously and working for their well-being.  

         There are times I think my calling is the best job in the world. I know John Calvin suggested that the magistrate, whom we call politicians, had the highest calling. I had to bring in Calvin as today is Reformation Sunday.[11] Of course, Calvin was writing back in the 16th Century. I’m not sure he’d approve of any of our politicians today. 

Maybe I’m running the risk of pride to think so highly of the call of the pastor, but the pastor/preacher gets to spend time with people and also time with ideas.  To do it well (and I know there are times I don’t do it well), one has to balance these two sides—the emotional side with the intellectual. Otherwise, we go off into a philosophical head game or into sentimentalism. There has to be a balance.  

         Jesus’ double-love commandment has the power to heal the church and from the world. Too often, Christians get stuck on one side or the other of the equation. We love God so much and we get down on those who don’t praise God like we do. We think there must be something wrong with those people. And then, there are those on the other side, who feel so committed to looking out for their neighbors that they forget about God. What Jesus says here is that you can’t have it one way or another, it’s not either/or, it’s both/and.  

         Let me say something about the last half of Jesus’ response. We’re to love our neighbors asourselves. The word “as” is important. Jesus is not giving us a new commandment here, instead he’s reflecting back on the Golden Rule.[12] How should we treat others? As we want to be treated! How should we love others? As we love ourselves, or as we want others to love us?  

         How should we apply the double-love commandment? Consider your lives. Are you more emotional? If so, you might be the type of person who enjoys mission work, or helping out a neighbor, or taking food to someone ill. If so, keep doing that! But you also might want to look at balancing such activities with some intellectual exercises, a commitment to read Scripture or to join a Sunday School class or to read a theology book. 

On the other hand, if God is an intellectual exercise for you, then you might need to get in touch with your emotional side. Join in a work party or volunteer to help a neighbor, visit those who are struggling with life. 

As a follower of Jesus, we should strive for a balanced life. Not only do we fulfill Jesus’ call, it keeps us from burning out.

This morning, ask yourself, “Does my whole being glorify God?” If not, what might you do to balance your faith? 

Living a balanced life will be helpful to us, and also to the world. If we love God and neighbor, we just might change the world a little bit for the better. 

Let all of us commit ourselves by saying together: “May the love of God and the love of our neighbors begin with me.” Amen. 

c2020   

[1] Scott Hoezee, “Back to the Beginning” https://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-starters/proper-25a-2/?type=the_lectionary_gospel

[2] Not much is known about the Herodians, but it’s obvious they are supporters of the Herod dynasty that ruled much of ancient Israel and Syria on behalf of the Romans. The Herod clan, who were part Jewish, tried to stay on the good side of both the Jews and the Romans. However, most Jews disliked them because of their ties to the Romans. 

[3] Matthew 22:15-22.

[4] Matthew 23-33

[5]  Frederick Dale Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 410.

[6] Psalm 24:1.

[7] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, a commentary for teaching and preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1993), 259.  Jesus quotes from Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18. 

[8] Luke 10:25-37.

[9] See Luke 10:21ff and Matthew 5:43-47.

[10] Robert Smith, Jr., Doctrine that Dances: Bringing Doctrinal Preaching and Teaching to Life (Nashville: B&H, 2008), 51.

[11] Reformation Sunday is traditionally the Sunday before Reformation Day (October 31). Reformation day, the day before All Saint’s Day, is when Martin Luther nailed the 95 Thesis on the door of the church in Wittenberg and is considered the beginning of the Reformation. 

[12] Matthew 7:12

The Wedding Banquet

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
October 18, 2020
Matthew 22:1-14

Click above to watch me deliver the sermon live (on Saturday)

Introduction at the beginning of worship:

          Our text for today’s service is about an invitation to a wedding banquet. Even though this is an allegorical wedding feast, the gospels are full of parties which should remind us that God wants us to have a good time in life. This parable shows that God wants to invite everyone, the more the merrier, as the passage foretells the church’s role in reaching out to the Gentiles.[1] But there’s also a warning. When we respond to the invitation, we should prepare ourselves to be in the presence of the King of Kings. Today, think about how you will prepare yourself for such an invitation.

After the Scripture Reading:

Anxiety dreams, those where we find ourselves somewhere unprepared, are common.

I my case, it’s Sunday morning. I’m not ready to preach. I don’t even realize it’s Sunday. I wake up and leisurely go about my business, wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, causally drinking coffee when panic strikes. It’s ten minutes before church. I haven’t written a sermon. I scramble to get dress as I make a note or two about what I can say from the pulpit, then jump into the car and race to church. I pull in just in time only to realize, as I open the car door that I forgot something, like my pants. It’s at that point I wake up sweating and realize it’s not Sunday. Or if it is, it’s 4 AM and I’ve already written my sermon.

There are variations to this dream. Sometimes I lost my sermon, or I thought someone else was preaching so I hadn’t prepared or, maybe instead of no pants, I’m wearing jeans with holes in the knees.

A psychologist might interpret such dreams as an indication of some buried fear of inadequacy, which is a fear of which many people suffer. We go around life trying to look good, to hide our flaws, and afraid that if other people see who we really are, they’ll not like us. As adults, we dream about being unprepared on the job. When we were younger, it might have been being unprepared for a test at school.

A similar dream is based on the fear being socially stigmatized, such as not being invited to a party. This is not a new fear. People feared being embarrassed even in Jesus’ day, which is why Jesus tells us in Luke’s gospel that if we’re invited at a party, we should sit in the back. If we sit up front, we might be embarrassed when a more honored guest claims our seat.[2]

One might also dream about being at a party unprepared. You wear a tux when it’s a costume party or you come dressed in jeans and everyone else is wearing a tux. Or perhaps you bring a gag gift not realizing it’s a wedding shower. Get the picture?

We can all image, I expect, the nightmare of the guest who came to the banquet in our text without a wedding robe. When the King, who represents God, asks where’s his robe, the guy’s speechless. He has no defense and knows it. This is no ordinary party; he’s not just booted out on the sidewalk but assigned to a horrific eternal fate.

The message of the parable is harsh but clear. We’re all invited to a banquet. God graciously extends the invitation, but we must come prepared to be in the presence of the King. 

Dirty torn clothes won’t cut it. That’s a joke. Our preparation has nothing to do with clothes. This parable is an allegory. It’s not about an actually wedding banquet, although weddings are a common image in scripture for the fulfillment of the kingdom. Read the ending of the book of Revelation. History concludes with a wedding, uniting a renewed heaven and earth.[3]

The robe represents something other than actual clothes. The prophet Isaiah sings a song of deliverance proclaiming what God has done. Isaiah provides us with another insight into the meaning of such clothing. Listen to this verse:

My soul shall be joyful in my God;

For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation

He has covered me with the robe of righteousness

As a bridegroom decks himself in ornaments,

And as a bride adorns herself with jewels.[4]

          Catch that? The robe represents righteousness. The parable points out the need for us not only to attend the wedding banquet, but for us to respond with a changed life. To honor the king who invites us to the banquet, we clothed ourselves, or more correctly we allow the King’s son, Jesus Christ, to clothed, us with a robe of righteousness.[5]

          This passage supports the ethical tradition of the Reformed faith.[6] We, who are unworthy, are called by God through Jesus Christ, to come to the banquet, to establish our relationship with our Creator, a relationship that we have broken by sin. Yet, despite that, God graciously calls us when he could just as easily abandon us. God lovingly calls us, sending his Son, so that we not only hear the call but will respond with grateful hearts of thanksgiving.

Our lives as Christians should be balanced between the justification God freely grants and our response. God’s love drives us to sanctify ourselves, to strive for godliness.

The unfortunate man without a robe represents one who hears God’s call—for he came to the banquet—but who didn’t prepare himself to be in the presence of the King.  

          Jesus ends the parable with a proverb: “Many are called but few are chosen.” Jesus often has a way to throw in a curve at the end of his stories. We’re left scratching our head and having to live in faith.

This proverb is problematic and could, if not understood in context, drive us to despair. It also doesn’t seem to go to with the parable, which only speaks of one not being chosen at the banquet. That poor dude doesn’t make a multitude. Instead, he seems to be a clueless guest who made a major faux pas for which we are left to wonder why he’s not forgiven. His blunder and this closing parable evoke a certain amount of terror. If this guy can screw up, then what is going to keep you and me from making a mistake?

          “It’s a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God,” asserts the author of Hebrews.[7] But what choice do we have? When Jesus asked the disciples if they, like the masses, want to abandon him, they responded, “Where can we go? Only you have the words of eternal life.”[8]

We have no choice but to live within the tension of the parable. The king is inviting us to the banquet. God is graciously calling us to his kingdom. That by itself should make us thankful and open to responding. But we’re left with the question, how should we get ready?[9]

          We should understand that salvation is not just forgiveness. It’s also about renewal. To put this into theological terms, we’re justified and sanctified.[10] That latter step, the sanctification part, requires action on our behalf.

This is the tension that exists between grace and the law—between what God does for us and that which we do in response to God’s love. We can’t do without either one, grace or law. However, we often over-emphasize one or the other. Instead, we’re to respond to God’s grace by striving to live by his law.

The intention of this parable isn’t to drive us to despair as we worry if we’re appropriately dressed, but to encourage us to be ready and to give our best to a God who invites us to the banquet. We’re summoned before God. The king has invited us; we need to respond in faith by striving to live godly lives.

          You know, those dreams in which we  wake up in sweat, worried about not being prepared? They probably help us be better prepared (like a Boy Scout, “Be Prepared”).

Likewise, this passage which not only has good news, but a terrible warning is a reminder of us to be ready. Yes, God wants us to enjoy the festivities, but we also have responsibilities and obligations. We’re to be God’s light in the world.[11]

Think about Jesus’ life, he enjoyed many dinner parties. And now we’re being called to the party that will top all parties. But first, as my mom used to say before calling us to dinner, “Wash up!” Amen.

©2020 Jeff Garrison


[1] Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1993), 244-251.

[2] Luke 14:7-11.

[3] Revelation 21:2.,

[4] Isaiah 61:10, NKJV.

[5] Matthew’s idea of a wedding garment is an active attempt for us to live by the law (as compared to Paul’s idea that righteousness being imputed and based on our faith).  Martin Luther suggests the wedding garment could also mean faith and many who come to the banquet (Judgement day) will lack faith. John Calvin (along with Augustine), suggested that there was no need to debate whether the garments are faith or righteous works as the two can’t be separated. There was also a rabbinical parable from this era in which the wedding garments were seen as “charity,” which implies a more active role in our preparations. See Frederick Dale Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004), 390.

[6] The Reformed faith (or tradition) refers to the theology of the Presbyterian Church. Presbyterians are not the only ones who are “Reformed.” Presbyterians, historically, came from Scotland and Ireland. The “Reformed Churches” (our cousins) mostly came from the European continent. Others also may hold to a Reformed faith, including some Baptists and Anglican/Episcopal. The Reformed Faith draws from the teachings of Swiss Reformers (Zwingli, Calvin, Bullinger, etc), and places a strong emphasis on the sovereignty of God, the reality of sin, and our need for a Savior. 

[7] Hebrews 10:31.

[8] John 6:68.

[9] See Barbara Brown Taylor, “Tales of Terror, Times of Wonder,” The Other Side (March-April 2000).

[10] John H. Leith, Introduction to the Reformed Tradition (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981), 79.

[11] Matthew 5:14.

My Mom

Today, we buried my mother. My father asked me to write this obituary for him and my mother a few years ago. This appeared in an edited version, but I am posting it at its full length.

Mom in the mid-1950s

On July 26, 1937, Barbara was born on a farm outside of Pinehurst, North Carolina to Pete and Gladys Faircloth. She grew up mostly in Moore County, except for a few years during World War II, when her family moved to Wilmington so that her father could work in the shipyards. While a student at Pinehurst High School, she was a cheerleader and began dating her future husband when they were both in the tenth grade. In 1955, she graduated from high school and later that summer, three days after she turned 18, she married Charles Albert Garrison. The couple would have four children, Charles Jeffrey (1957), Warren Albert (1958), Sharon Kay (1959) and David Thomas (1966). After having children, she no longer worked outside of the home, but occasionally kept children for others, which also provided her own children with additional playmates. Barbara was a devoted mother who was willing to sacrifice much for her children. Her strength was evident early on, when she maintained sanity throughout a summer in the early 1960s when her three children (all under the age of five) experienced mumps, measles, and chicken pox in a manner of months.

My mother, Barbara Jean Faircloth Garrison died on October 4, 2020.   She loved her husband Charles, all children, and cleanliness. She taught her children to respect all people, insisted they attend church even when on vacation, and to always travel with Lysol (and this was pre-COVID). She loved to laugh and had a huge heart that accepted everyone. She loved birds and flowers and all of God’s creation (with the sole exception of snakes). She leaves behind her husband of 65 years, four children, seven grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren along with many nephews and nieces. Her parents and two sisters (Betty Ann and Clara) preceded her in death.

In 1963, the family moved to Petersburg, Virginia and in 1966, to Wilmington, North Carolina. Barbara would live most of the rest of her life in Wilmington. She loved the beach.  In the late 1970s, she joined her older children in college, but after a year put her studies on hold as she moved with her husband and younger son to Japan. Returning to Wilmington, she continued her studies and graduated with a social work degree from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington in 1985. She worked in this field for a few years but quit when she realized it kept her from traveling with her husband for his work.  She and Charles again moved overseas in the late 1990s, to Korea, coming back to Wilmington to retire.  Her love for children was seen with her volunteer work while overseas. In Japan, she taught English in an orphanage, and while in Korea taught English to children at a program in Korean churches.  After her children left home, Barbara became more active volunteering at Cape Fear Presbyterian Church, where she served as a Deacon and as a leader of the Young-at-Hearts program.

In the summer of 2005, just before she and Charles celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Over the next few years, her memories began to fade. Her husband cared for her at home until 2014, when she moved into Autumn Care of Myrtle Grove.

The family would like to thank all the care givers who tended to Barbara’s care during the last years of her life.  A private graveside memorial service will be held at Oleander Memorial Gardens, officiated by the Rev. Jonathan Watson, Pastor of Cape Fear Presbyterian Church.

To the glory of God…

Jeff Garrison
Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church
2 Corinthians 4:5-18

September 27, 2020

          It’s hard to know what to say on my last Sunday in this pulpit. I appreciate the privilege of having been able to proclaim God’s word to you in sermons, in the classes I’ve taught, in addition to the conversations I’ve had with many of you over the past six plus years. It’s always a pleasure to attempt to open up a bit about what God might be doing in the world. God is active even now in our midst. We are a people who live by faith in a God whose glory often remains hidden, but we trust the Lord because of what we know about God through Jesus Christ.

          I went back yesterday and looked at the first sermon I preached from this pulpit. My text was Revelation 1:4-8. Yes, I started at the end of the book, it’s a bad habit of mine. I recalled a sermon Sam Henderson, your interim pastor, had preached a few weeks early. Sam claimed there was no perfect pastor. I thanked Sam for lowering the bar. But you know, he’s right. None of us are perfect. Nor is it about us, me, or whoever is standing in this pulpit. It’s all about the glory of God as revealed in the truth of Jesus Christ. Our purpose is to proclaim that truth.

          Today, I’m using a passage from Second Corinthians. Of the letters we have in the New Testament, Paul wrote more to the Corinthians than to any other church. He also spent a year and a half in Corinth, ministering to the people there. He wrote at least three letters, although only two survive, both of which are in the Canon of Scripture.[1]

          Paul has been held in high esteem over the centuries. He’s responsible for much of the New Testament. But if you read his letters you get the sense that not everyone appreciated him during his lifetime. We joke about Paul putting people asleep during his sermons, but then I’m sure most of you would be asleep if I tried to preach through the night and into the early morning hours.[2] But Paul was also questioned over his authority. While he was called by Jesus on the Damascus Road,[3] Paul was not one of the disciples who was personally with Jesus during his ministry. There were tensions between Jewish believers and Paul,[4] who was called to the Gentiles, as well as tensions between Paul and other missionaries.[5]   

There were also other unknown conflicts Paul had, including one in Corinth, which must have been painful both to Paul and to some within the church.[6] In this letter, Paul encourages the church to forgive this individual, while defending his role as an Apostle of Jesus Christ.

          For Paul, such things are not to be taken personally, for in doing so could diminish God’s glory. Everything is to be done with God in mind. This is why Paul makes such a strong case for depending on God’s strength. As humans, we’re limited. We are frail. We fail. Like Paul realized in his own situation, there may have been things I said and done that have offended some of you. For that, I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, but I also realize it’s a part of who we are as creatures. We’re not perfect, which is why we are not to be boastful about what we’ve done, only about what God has done and is doing through us. Humility must rule in the life of a Christian.

          In the seventh verse, Paul speaks of treasure in clay pots. In Paul’s day, clay pots along with baskets were the main thing people had to store stuff in. Today, we have cardboard boxes—right now in my office and home, there are a hundred or more such boxes. Like the clay pots of Paul’s day, cardboard boxes are not valuable. They’re cheap and expendable (but I hope you recycle them). Cardboard boxes protect that which is inside, which may be valuable—my books and the china.

          Paul uses clay pots (and we could use cardboard boxes) as a metaphor for flesh. Boxes and pots can be easily broken and destroyed, just like our bodies. But there is one thing important about our bodies, it’s in the body that we experience God’s grace and glory. Just as it was in the flesh that Jesus came to us. As frail as we may be, and as flawed as we may be, God sees something of value within us and works through us. The treasure that Paul speaks of is the light of the knowledge of the glory of God.[7]

          Anything that we do that’s worthwhile isn’t because of our own power and strength, knowledge and wisdom. It’s because our Creator has given us such abilities. Paul’s point is that anyone looking at him would not think he was capable of being the world’s greatest missionary, and they’re right. He was not capable, but with God working through him Paul was able to do incredible things.[8]

          After speaking of clay pots, Paul moves into a powerful set of contradictions in verses 8 and 9:

  • afflicted, but not crushed,
  • perplexed but not driven to despair,
  • persecuted but not forsaken,
  • struck down, but not destroyed.

Paul leaves no doubt that any success he’s enjoyed did not come from him, but from God! Paul may have said this because other teachers have come along and claimed to be superior or to have better gifts than Paul. But Paul isn’t having any of that. He can do what he can do, because of God working through him.[9]

          This long section of the letter, which began back in chapter 2 with Paul saying he forgave whoever it was that had abused him, now comes back to the idea of God and God’s mission of which Paul, like us, is just a vessel. My purpose here, as it has been at every congregation I’ve served as a pastor, is not to proclaim greatness, but to humble myself before you and God and point to God as revealed in Jesus Christ as our only hope in life and death.[10]

          In verse 16, Paul moves from his defense of himself, to include everyone when he says, “So we do not lose heart.” Paul’s not just be writing about himself here, he’s writing about us all. And he reminds us that our hope isn’t in this life, which is temporary, but in the life to come, a life with God who is redeeming heaven and earth. Paul would never say that our work here is not important. It is, because we are working with God to redeem a fallen world. And it’s not our abilities that make our work important, but our Creator, the one who has redeemed us and who works through us to spread this message.

          So friends, my message to you today hasn’t changed any since I first preached here over six years ago. Keep your eyes focused on Jesus. Be a light and a beacon for him. May your actions be worthy of him and your words be uplifting and loving. Yes, we live in a mixed-up world with lots of trouble, but that’s no excuse for bad behavior, for while we live in this world, we live for the world to come. Love everyone, extend grace to all, be quick to forgive, and humble yourselves before the God who has created you, who redeems you, and who sustains you. Amen.

©2020


[1] See 1 Corinthians 5:9 for the reference to an earlier letter (before 1 & 2 Corinthians).

[2] Acts 20:7-12.

[3] Acts 9:1-18.

[4] See Acts 15.

[5] For an example, see 1 Corinthians 1:10-17.

[6] See 2 Corinthians 2:5-8.

[7] Paul Barnett, NICNT: The Second Epistle to the Corinthians (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 229.

[8] Charles Barrett, HNTC: The Second Epistle to the Corinthians (1973: Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1983), 138.

[9] Barnet, 231.

[10] See the Presbyterian Church, Book of Confessions, Heidelberg Catechism, question 1.

The Great Influenza

 

John M. Barry, The Great Influenza:  The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History (2004, Penguin Books, New York, 2018), 548 pages, some photos, index and notes.

 

This is an impressive book that does more than just provide a history of the 1918 influenza pandemic. Barry provides a history of medicine especially in the United States, of the science around disease’s transmission, and of how all this came to play in the pandemic that struck the world at the end of World War I. He even suggests that the disease may have shortened the war and may have led to its disaster the followed in which set the stage for the Second World War. The war ended after German’s last great offensive was unable to be continued because too many German troops were ill and unable to sustain German’s advance. In the negotiations afterwards, it appears that many (including Woodrow Wilson) may have battle with influenza (which may have played a role in his stoke). Wilson’s absence and lack of focus toward the end of the negotiations certainly hindered his ability to keep the French imposing punitive measures on Germany.

In an addition to providing background history to the medical profession and the science of disease (which sometimes became confusing to me as a layperson in this area), Barry also describe the transmission of the disease from birds to humans and other animals (especially swine).  One it’s in the body, he describes our natural immune response. Interesting (and frightening) is that this strain was so dangerous in younger patients whose immune systems often overreacted and caused a faster death. He also pointed out that most of the deaths weren’t directly from the flu, but because the flu opened up pathways for other infections, especially pneumonia. (This is something that is enlightening in the current COVID-19 debate, as there are some who say that only those who died of COVID only should be counted as a COVID death. Most influenza deaths were not from the flu but from pneumonia).

No one knows for sure where the pandemic began. Although it became known as the Spanish flu, it is certain that the flu didn’t begin there. Spain was relatively late in being attacked by the flu, however since Spain wasn’t at war (unlike the United States, Great Britain, France, Germany and Italy), there was no censorship of the press in Spain, so people often associate the flu with the country reporting the flu. The other countries in war censored the information about the flu to keep information from their enemies even though all armies (and countries) were battling it at the same time.

One theory is that the flu began in Kansas, which had a similar illness in pigs. As those from the area were drafted into the army, they brought the illness into induction centers. Early on, the army was battling the flu. The army, as it began to mobilize after the United States entered the war, began to move personnel around the United States and to Europe. Interestingly, all medical personnel with the military knew the danger of illness being spread by armies (and early on sought to minimize the danger of measles).  The disease also travelled in waves, starting in the spring of 1918. The peak was in the fall of 1918, but it kept moving and slightly changing. There were people who caught it more than once, although most who survived an early attack had protection against later attacks. It is also thought that the virus became less lethal in each wave.

Another reason this outbreak was so deadly is that the army sucked up the best doctors and nurses in the country, which left older and ineffective physicians treating civilian populations. The military (and others) passed the disease off as “just influenza” and wasn’t willing to stop the movement of personnel as a way to prevent the disease spread. However, late in the war, they did postpone drafts because the military was having a harder time trying to care for their own ill and were incapable of processing new recruits.

Just as in the current COVID crisis, many places in which influenza was rampant shut down gathering places, including restaurants, bars, churches, and theaters.  The lack of knowledge was especially daunting (caused by censorship that kept anything that might slow the war effort down). This led to panic and in many places, people refused to help those in need out of fear of catching the disease. The deaths numbers in some places (especially parts of the world without much natural immunity to influenza viruses) were horrific. Fifty million and perhaps as many as a 100 million worldwide died at a time when the world’s population was 1/3 of what it is today.

I recommend this book, especially now, when we are dealing with another pandemic. The parallels are frightening, and this book could help clear up a lot of the misinformation that abounds today.

 

Living in Exile

Jeff Garrison
Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church
September 20, 2020
Jeremiah 29:4-14

To watch this service on YouTube go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKiTvhFZ3Sk. If you just want to catch the sermon, go to 18:40, where I began with the scripture reading.

If you know Old Testament history, you’ll recall there was a period in which Jerusalem was a vassal state of Babylon. In 597 BC, the Babylonians took large numbers of leaders from Jerusalem, along with skilled craftsman, into exile to Babylon. It was an attempt by this world power to keep Jerusalem in line by making connections between the two nations. But the Hebrews kept revolting against Babylon and in 586 BC the city was destroyed, the temple burned and those who survived the slaughter were either led into exile in Babylon or fled to Egypt.

This passage takes the form of a letter Jeremiah writes to those already in exile in Babylon. It was written sometime between 597 and 586 BC, between the first great exile and the last.[1]  At this time, in Jerusalem, there is a lot of nationalist talk. The people are sure God will protect his temple and nothing serious would happen to them.[2] Unlike Jeremiah, I’m sure others wrote subversive letters to those in exile, encouraging them to do what they could to destroy Babylon’s ability to make war.[3] But that’s not Jeremiah’s message. Instead, he tells those in exile to make the best of the situation. That if Babylon prospers, so will they. That’s not what people want to hear. Many think Jeremiah is a traitor, that he’s aiding the enemy.

You know, like those in Babylon, we’re now living in a time of exile. Things that we took for granted back in February and early March have been snatched away. We want Good News, we want to know when this nightmare is going to end. But is that the right question to be asking? Maybe we should be listening to the advice of Jeremiah and make the best of the situation in which we find ourselves?

I was reading a blog post this week in which the author, the president of the Barna Group, a religious think tank that also does polling, wrote about ways the pandemic is negatively impacting people. Barna’s polling had shown that relationships in America were in trouble before the pandemic. After five months of living in lock-down, it’s worse and creating a mental health crisis. Loneliness is a problem, not just for older people who live alone. Surprisingly, its worse for those younger. Two out of three millennials say they are lonely at least once a week. Relationships are straining under the pressure we’re facing, and addictions are growing.[4]

At a time like this, we want to hear that the pandemic will soon be over, that things will be returning to normal, or that it’s really not as bad as we’re making it out to be.[5] And there are those who tout such messages, but are they any different than the prophets of Jeremiah’s day who suggested things are going to be okay? Time will tell, but the message of Jeremiah still applies. We are to make the best out of our present situation. Time goes on. We can’t stop making a life for ourselves which Jeremiah describes as building houses, planting gardens, marrying off children, starting families, and working for the wellbeing of the city in which they live. In other words, while we take care of their own needs, we’re also to help care for others, even those who believe differently than us.

This all leads up to the 11th verse, which is a favorite of many people. “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not harm, to give you a future with hope.” Many people will copy this verse in cards sent to grandchildren and I’ve even heard graduation speeches built around these words which assure us that God wants what is best for us. God promises his children a hopeful future.

As comforting as this verse sounds, we must place it in context. In verse 10, just words before these, those in exile are reminded that they are going to be there for some time… 70 years! That must have hit like a bombshell. Those in exile are sad and missing their families and their community and the temple, the symbol of their God. They want to go home. In this sadness, Jeremiah encourages them to seek the welfare of the city in which they will find themselves, a place that they hate. It’s good advice, but in some ways it’s tough love.

As I’ve said, the purpose behind this exile, for the Babylonians, was to take enough of the leadership, including many of the young promising leaders like Ezekiel and Daniel, to ensure that Judah wouldn’t revolt. In a way, although they did not know it at this point in time, those who were first taken away had it easier than those who stayed behind. Those still in Jerusalem experienced the hunger and the horror of the destruction of Jerusalem a decade later.

This was not a good time in Israel’s history and in a way it’s not a good time in our history. As a nation, Israel was being torn apart and the same can be said to be happening to us. Back then, people were afraid. Today, we’re afraid. Back then, famine, suffering, more death and more destruction were on the horizon. We don’t know what’s on the horizon, but the dying from COVID is not over and our society seems to be splintering into factions. But as people of faith, we are to have a positive outlook for we know that God is in control and while God’s timing often doesn’t correlate with our desires, God does work things out.

Faulkner, the southern writer from Mississippi, once said that while it’s hard to believe, “disaster seems to be good for people.” When entering a period of exile, like we’re in, much of what is superfluous is stripped away and we learn what really matters. What matters is that we seek God and trust in God’s promises.[6]

Consider this passage. Even as darkness was descending on Israel, God speaking through Jeremiah offers a word of hope. To know that even though things are bad, God has our back and in the long-run our best interest at heart can help us endure great challenges. The people of Israel had to learn over and over again to be patient. We need to remember that and trust God.

Yes, we are in trying times. But this is not the first time God’s people have faced challenges. The good news is that when we endure and remain faithful, our faith is strengthened. As Paul captures so elegantly in the fifth chapter of Romans:

We boast in our suffering, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.[7]

May our lives be filled with love and hope despite what we experience in life. Amen.

 

©2020

[1] J. A. Thompson makes the case that this letter was written around 594, after some of the exiles created disturbance in Babylon that lead to at least the execution of two exile members of the Hebrew community there.  See J. A. Thompson, The Book of Jeremiah (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1980), 544.

[2] The Prophet Ezekiel, who was a part of the early exiles, had a vision in Babylon of God leaving the temple which helped prepare those there for the temple’s destruction. See Ezekiel 10.

[3] A hint of this can be seen in the rest of this chapter which concerns a letter from Shemaiah in Babylon telling the high priest in Jerusalem to silence Jeremiah. Jeremiah’s prophecy is not what they want to hear. See Jeremiah 29:24-32.

[4] See https://careynieuwhof.com/new-trends-4-ways-the-pandemic-is-negatively-impacting-people/

[5] An example from the past: In the 1918-19 influenza pandemic, many kept saying “it’s only influenza” while more people died (in sheer numbers, not in percentage of population) from the illness at any other time in history.  See John M. Barry, The Great Influenza:  The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History (2004, Penguin Books, New York, 2018).

[6] Eugene Peterson, Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at its Best (Dowers Grove, IL: IVP, 1983), 156.  Peterson’s Faulkner quote comes from Lion in the Garden, Interviews edited by James B. Merriweather and Michael Millgate (NY: Random House, 1968), 108.

[7] Romans 5:3-5.

Sailing: The Low Country Hook Ocean Race

Grand Cru approaching the mark just ahead of us

The finish was exciting. An offshore breeze was blowing steadily toward the land and many of the boats still in the race were all convening on the R2W buoy two miles off Wassaw Island at the same time. There was only one boat left in our class, Todd’s Grand Cru.  While we had opted to stay further offshore in the hope of finding wind, Todd and crew hugged the shore. So, the end of the race had us approaching the mark on a reach, while Todd, who had to tack back toward the mark, was close-hauled, a sail position that gave him more speed. However, he also had more distance to cover. We’d thought we were easily going to make the mark first, but as we both moved closer to the mark, we could tell that Todd was really moving. We checked the sail trim and did everything possible to increase speed, but they beat us, rounding the mark a couple boat lengths ahead. But it didn’t matter. We still won when they factored in the boat’s handicap. Grand Cru is a 33-foot boat and has a much higher handicap than our 24 foot boat. He’d have to finished 20 minutes before us to have won the race.

We crossed the mark at 6:02 PM. It had been a long day and we still had seven miles to go to reach the marina. That was where the final mark was supposed to be but since there had been so little wind and race rules stated that everyone had to finish by 7 PM, which would have meant that no one would have finished, the shortened the race late in the afternoon. The race committee had even headed end, leaving each boat with the instructions to cross the buoy to starboard, turn north and when you pass the buoy, to call in the time. Most of the spinnaker boats (we sailed in the non-spinnaker class) still in the race finished around the same time.  None of the cruising class boats finished the race, all having opted to abort earlier in the afternoon.

Steve setting a course with Doug P at the helm as we sail to Hilton Head

Our race weekend started on Friday, when Doug P., Steve and I took our boat, Bonnie Blue, out to sea and up to Hilton Head’s Harbour Town. We left Landings Harbor Marina at 9:45 AM. The forecast called for light wind and we were thinking we might have to motor most of the way up, but as we got the boat out of the marina, the winds picked up and we were able to sail on a reach (wind coming off the beam or 90 degrees to the boat’s direction), without ever changing tack, all the way out of the Wilmington River and Wassaw Sound. Once we were in the ocean, the winds continue from behind, allowing us to run wing-to-wing (the mainsail and the jib on opposite sides of the boat to catch the wind from behind) all the way north, pass Little Tybee and Tybee Island while sailing down waves that were moving favorably in our direction. Once we crossed the shipping channel to the Savannah Ports, we turned inland toward Daufuskie Island (the setting for Pat Conroy’s memoir, The Water is Wide), sailing across Calibouge Sound until we picked up the channel markers that led us behind Hilton Head Island. The wind died about the time we made it behind Hilton Head and, for the first time since motoring out of the harbor, we engaged the motor and found our slip at the Harbour Town marina.  On Hilton Head, the fourth member of our team, Doug B, who’d been spending a few days with his family on Hilton Head, met us and drove us back to Skidaway.

Leaving Harbour Town

Saturday morning began early as we all gathered before daybreak to drive back up to Hilton Head. The sun was rising as we crossed over the Savannah River bridge. By 8:30 AM, we had the boat ready and motored out to the start line between Daufaskie and Hilton Head. The first class, the cruisers, were to begin at 10 AM.  By then, all boats were in the area and they began the countdown sequence. The tide was running in, strong, and what winds there were came from behind, make it a downwind start (you generally start upwind, as you can make faster speeds).

Cruiser class approaching the mark

At four minutes before the starts, all the boat were required to kill their motors. They did, then then wind died, and the cruisers (there were only three) were pulled further and further from the starting line.  A minute before the start, they cancelled and waited a few minutes before going again into the six-minute sequence. The same thing happened.  The race chairperson then suggested that the boats motor to out beyond the starting line and let the tied pull them back inside it before the start. On the third attempt, they had a start.  As the cruising boats tend to be slower, they were given ten minutes or so headway before they began the second flight, those of us not racing with spinnakers.

Thankfully, our start went off without a hitch and by 10:45 AM, we were racing, but without a lot of speed. We tried everything, from going wing-on-wing to tacking and running on a reach. It was slow going, but within a few hundred yards of the start line we had passed the cruising class boats.  Soon, the spinnaker class boats started and we were all bobbing around in Calibogue Sound, waiting for a puff to move us a little closer to our destination. It seemed to take forever. We kept looking at the same houses on Daufuskie and the marks in the Savannah River were so far ahead. We watched several container ships make their way out of the harbor and then others make their way into the harbor. Thankfully, without wind, the sky remained gray, reducing the sun and the heat.

a distant ship leaving Savannah

Around noon, we had a short burst of air that allowed us to make our way out of the sound and point eastward, toward the G5 buoy at Tybee Roads. We weren’t making great time, but at least we were moving, which continued until we made the turn south, toward Wassaw Sound. Then the wind died again. It seemed to take forever for us to cross the shipping channel. We had seen many ships in the morning, but thankfully while we were bobbing around in the channel, there were none.  Finally, we reached the port side marks, putting us safely out of the channel and began to make our way south.  Doug B pulled out his fancy binoculars, which allowed us to see well ships that were coming into port, but not strong enough to make out those bathing on Tybee, some two miles to the east. For what seemed to be days, but was only four hours or so, we keep the Tybee Lighthouse directly off our beam. Occasionally, they’d be a puff and we’d make some forward progress (to where the slough that runs between Tybee Island and Little Tybee was parallel to beam), dropping the lighthouse toward our stern. Then the wind would die and we’d drift back. Pretty soon the lighthouse would be off our beam. We talked about all kinds of things, but the only thing I remember being said was by Steve when he announced: “It’s a flat as a millpond out here.”

Waiting on wind (Steve holds boom out to catch every bit of wind while I do the same on the pole on the genoa, Doug B looking at sail shapes while Doug P either is looking at his sail app on his phone or is praying…

The chatter on the radio was slim. Occasionally a boat would announce they were giving up the race. Then, around four, there was some discussion over moving the end of the race to the R2W buoy. Since not everyone was within radio contact, such instructions had to be relayed to those behind us. Then, as it got closer to five, the wind slowly began to build. Tybee lighthouse dropped off our stern and we began to pass Little Tybee. The wind picked up and slowly the miles to the buoy began to drop (which we could measure thanks to navigation apps). By five, the wind filled in and we were quickly making out way toward the mark, which could first be seen as just a dot in the distance and slowly became more visible as we saw Todd’s boat coming toward us off starboard. After a day of bobbing, we finally felt like we were racing.

 

 

Heading home (Wassaw to port)

After making the mark, the wind continued as we made our way toward Wassaw Sound. By now, the tide had turned and was coming in, giving us an extra boost. Once we cross the north end of Wassaw, the wind died again. No longer racing, we started our motor and began to putt in, supported by the tide. The inland waters were like a mirror and while we putted, we flaked the mainsail on the boom and secured it with the sail cover. Then we rolled and bagged the geona (foresail or jib) and stowed it away. We got the boat ready so that we when we arrived at the marina, we could tie it up and leave.  It was a bit after 8, when we came into the marina. We tied up and found that the party which had been planned in the grassy area by the marina, but had broken up, had left us some snacks and beers. I enjoyed a bag of chips and a beer. It was dark when I arrived at the marina that morning to carpool to Hilton Head and it was dark when I left the marina to head home.

Next Weekend with more wind (that’s me on the helm with Tito)

 

This was the first race since the St. Paddy’s Day race on March 14!  While I’ve been sailing, all the other races and regattas had been cancelled due to Covid. The next Saturday was the Wassaw Cup, in which our crew wasn’t able to sail, so I sailed on another boat, with high winds, we were blown away. There’s one more race, at the end of the month, before I move to the mountains.

 

 

Boats gathering at the start of the Wassaw Cup

Restoration of a Sinner

Jeff Garrison
Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church
September 6, 2020
Matthew 18:15-20

Click this link to watch the service which begins at the 6 minutes into the table. The sermon starts at 18:20 minutes into the service. 

Also, it seems I wasn’t the only one to come down hard on gossip this week. Even the Pope joined the chorus in his Sunday address. Click here for the AP article.

At the Beginning of Worship:

             Technology has brought a lot of changes to our world, good and bad. On the positive side, it allows us to continue holding worship services during a pandemic, something that wasn’t available during the 1918 pandemic. But it also means everything is now more public, out in the open. Even things we might have hoped to do privately gets posted across social media for the world to see.

The downside of technology includes social media being filled with folks ready to attack anyone who might not agree with them. We’ve always had such people, but they used to easy to avoid. It’s amazing how people will attack others publicly, be it their food choices, their politics, or their use of grammar. Those who engaged in this manner think they’re doing something righteous when they blast an opponent. They think they look good and have power.

But is this how a Christian should act? Not according to the Scripture text we’re examining today. In fact, even when someone else is in the wrong, we need to go the extra mile to protect their identity, to show love, and to act with humility.

 

After the Scripture:

             I always admire those folks who can take bucket of rust and, with hard work, restore the car to where it looks like it just rolled off the assembly lane. It takes time, patience, expertise, and a willingness to get one’s hands dirty. But what beauty can come out of such efforts.

Today’s sermon is about restoration. Not of cars, but of people. As Christians, we are not only to be about making ourselves betters, but also others.

Our passage from the 18th Chapter of Matthew speaks of correcting the sins of our brothers and sisters in the faith. Let me warn you, this is an easy passage to abuse. If we’re to be correcting sin, we need to first remember we’re all sinners. Second, we are dishonest if we only correct those sins we find most grievous or only the sins committed by those we dislike, while ignoring the sins of those we like. Remember, Jesus said something about us getting the log out our eyes before removing a speck from someone else’s.[1]

            Pointing out the sins of others is something few of us want to do. That’s probably good. In the book The Peacemaker, which is mostly based on this passage, Ken Sande suggests those eager to go out and correct others are probably not the ones needing to perform such tasks.[2] The person who sets out to correct another needs to be humble and desiring both to restore the other person back into a relationship with Christ as well as to keep the publicity down. We’re not to try to make ourselves look better while making others look bad. That’s not Christ-like.

Like restoring an automobile, restoring relationships is hard work. It requires wisdom, love, gratitude, and humility. Without such gifts, one is liable to make a mess of things, just as having the wrong tools could ruin a car’s restoration. Without humility, we can make a mess of a relationship.

Now look at this passage. It starts with a difficult verse. Verse 15 is generally translated “if your brother sins against you…” The New Revised Standard Version translates it more to the intent of the original when it says if “another member of the church sins against you.” Matthew uses the word brother to imply all who are a part of the Christian fellowship, not just siblings or just men. The question that arises is whether we have the right to go correct others in sin.

If you take this passage as translated, the text implies that you go talk only to those who sin against you. Yet, almost all translations will have a footnote here, informing us that many of the older text omit the “against you.”[3] In such cases, it sounds as if we have a license to go correcting anyone who is in violation of God’s law. Since we’re all sinful at one point or another, the field is ripe for a harvest.

I’m going to do something maybe a little unorthodox and take both positions. If your brother or sister in the faith does something wrong against you, you are supposed to go to him or her. In other words, the harmed or the innocence party is supposed to make the effort to reconcile. Image that! My tendency, and this is probably true for most of us, is to avoid people who harm me, but that’s not what we’re being told here. And the object of the visit is not to beat up the offending party, but to restore them. We can also look at this verse from the angle of church discipline. Taking this verse to read: “If your brother does something wrong, go and have it out with him alone,” as the New Jerusalem Bible translates it, we’re told to confront those whose sins are so bad that they are harming the church of giving God a black eye.

Regardless of whether you think this passage applies only to sins committed personally against you as an individual or to sins in general, we’re not given a license to become intolerant moral police officers. Look at the context of this teaching. Right before here, in verses 10-14, Jesus gives the Parable of the Lost Sheep. The focus there, as in this passage, isn’t confrontation. It’s reconciliation, bringing the lost back into the fold. Then he follows this passage with the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. Remember that passage is about judgment upon those who act harshly and are judgmental toward others. Having these two passages as bookends reminds us that Jesus is primarily interested in restoration of the sinner and that if we’re involved in bringing about such restoration, we’re to be humble and gracious.

We need to ask ourselves if the offense is great enough to risk ruining a relationship. Sometimes, having a little thicker skin will do wonders and further the peace.

If, however, the situation requires action, we’re to go to the other person and confront them face to face; we’re not to be talking about it to others, starting up the gossip mill. Today, thanks to social media, starting a rumor is easier than ever. But before we announce to the world the wrong someone has done, we’re to go talk to them. We’re to listen to what they say, for they may have a different interpretation or understanding.

Listening is important. We might have missed understood. Furthermore, if Jesus were teaching today, I think he’d insist that we listen and gather the facts before we march off into a crusade. As for social media, he would probably suggest that before we share something online, we make sure what we say is supported by facts and are not just emotional responses that demonstrate our own confirmation bias.[4]

After having confronted the person face to face, if they are not willing to work things out or if they are going to continue sinful activities, we’re still not to start gossiping. We’re to maintain confidentiality as we attempt to come to an understanding with two or three others, who are trusted and will also keep confidentiality. In Sande’s book, he recommends that if we’re in a conflict with someone else, we tell them at the end of that first meeting that we’re going to seek the council of others—for if they know they’re in the wrong they may be willing to go ahead and work things out with us.

These two or three witnesses serve two functions.  First, they are observers. Judgment in Scripture always required two witnesses.[5] In this case, they are there to make sure that things are fair. They might listen and think we’re the one that is in the wrong and, in that case, we have to be willing to accept their advice.

After this second visit, if we still don’t resolve the problem, then we can take our complaint back to the church. In keeping with the process, this doesn’t mean that we stand up during joys and concerns and broadcast the complaint to everyone. Instead, we take it to the leadership, to those in charge, and let them be the judge. Only after this intervention fails, does the church have a right to exclude the offending party from the community of faith. Matthew says that then they’ll be like “pagans and tax collectors.”

What are our responsible toward correcting a member of the community who sins, remembering that we all sin? This was debated heatedly during the Reformation. John Calvin, one of the founders of our branch of Christendom, supported Church discipline for three reasons.[6] First, was to honor God. The church should act against those who are in open revolt against God. But Calvin did not suggest we start inquisitions. He never argued for a “pure church” because he believed that was impossible. Church discipline was taken only against those who openly refused to stop and repent of their blasphemous activities. The second aim was to keep the good within the church from being corrupted, and the third aim was to bring the guilty party into repentance.[7] Discipline was always carried out in hopes of restoring the contrite into the fellowship of the church. In other words, discipline was done pastorally out of concern for the accused soul.

When we take these verses out of their setting, they sound harsh. After all, Christ gives those of us in the community the power to banish someone from our midst.[8] He even tells us that decisions we make here have eternal ramifications. But our purpose isn’t to be the enforcer; instead our goal is to restore the sinner. And if we’re going to be convincing, we got to remember that we’re all sinners, which means we better be humble in any endeavor we undertake.[9] We don’t try to correct others as a way to prove our rightness, but out of love and concern. Like restoring a car, it’s hard work. Amen.

©2020

[1] Matthew 7:5.

[2] Ken Sande, The Peacemaker: A Biblical Guide to Resolving Personal Conflict (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2004).

[3] There is debate over the inclusion of this phrase.  See Bruce Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (United Bible Society, 1985), 45 and Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1992), 213.  Robert Gundry argues for its inclusion in Matthew: A Commentary on his Literary and Theological Art (Grand Rapids: Eerdman, 1982), 367; while Frederick Dale Bruner omits the phrase.  See The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 225.

[4] Confirmation bias is agreeing with something because it “fits” our world view without verification. In other words, we decide something is right because it fits our existing beliefs.

[5] Deuteronomy 19:15.

[6] Although Calvin supported and participated in church discipline, unlike some Reformers such as John Knox, Calvin did not see discipline as one of the marks of a “true church.”  To him the marks of a true church was the proclamation of the gospel and the rightful administration of the sacraments.  For a discussion of Calvin and discipline, see Charles Partee, The Theology of John Calvin (Louisville: W/JKP, 2008), 270-271.

[7] The three purposes of discipline of John Calvin are in his Institutes of the Christian Religion, IV.12.5..

[8] While this is seen in this passage (Matthew 18:18), it also appears in Matthew 16:19.

[9] Heimlich Bullinger, another reformer and author of the Second Helvetic Confession tempers his talk on discipline with a reminder that Jesus said not to pull the weeds up because you risk pulling up the wheat.  See Presbyterian Church (USA), Book of Confession. 5:165.

Would You Wear a Yellow Tux?

Jesse Cole, Find Your Yellow Tux: How to be Successful by Standing Out (Lioncrest Publishing, 2018), 303 pages, some photos.

The Back Story:  One of the most amazing things I’ve seen while living in the Savannah area is the development of a summer league baseball team for college players, the Savannah Bananas. Before the Bananas arrived, there had been a Single-A minor league team, the Savannah Sand Gnats. I went to one of their games the first full summer I was here with my staff. We pretty much had a whole section of the stands to ourselves. It is hard to think that I cheered for any Sand Gnat. As is often said around here, that nasty bug and the humidity are what keeps house prices affordable along the Georgia Coast. The Sand Gnats tried to get the city to build them a new stadium (Grayson Stadium is old but classic—even Babe Ruth played there). Failing to blackmail the community into a new stadium, they moved to Columbia, South Carolina, but sadly left the gnats behind. It wasn’t looking good for baseball in Savannah until this young man from Gastonia, NC comes along with some crazy ideas. He creates a ball team of college players and tops it all off with entertainment and fifteen buck tickets that include all you can eat burgers and hotdogs. It’s a great deal and fun. The first summer, about forty people from our church attended a game. I took a photo of a dude wearing a yellow tux and posted it to Facebook, asking what would happen if I wore a yellow tux in the pulpit. One of my elders responded (jokingly, I think) that they might have to establish a new Pastor Nominating Committee. I still think it would have been a fun idea.

Jesse Cole at a ballgame in 2016

My review:  The dude I saw in at that baseball game back in 2016 was the author of this book in which he lays out his ideas about business and life. It’s all about having fun and doing what you can to stand out in the world. Cole’s idea is to do crazy things to draw attention and to build a fan following. It works. While the Sand Gnats never sold out, the Savannah Bananas sold out the stadium their first three years. This book is part business manual and part memoir. We learn about Cole’s life, which is almost like a novel (I know of several novels where someone hoped to play professional ball and throws their arm out in college). Cole finds a way to stay with the game, first in Gastonia, N.C. and now in Savannah. The book draws on many others who gave Cole inspiration: Walt Disney, P. T. Barnum, Mike Veeck, Richard Branson, the movie “Jerry Maguire” among others. Cole is not only an avid reader; he is able to put what he learns into action. He also encourages those who work with him to read and to produce ideas.  Some of his ideas are a new spin on an old idea. Cole uses an old fashion “idea box.” But what he does with those ideas are unique. “Brainstorming” is called Ideapaloozas. Cole points out the lack of excitement with “professionalism” and encourages everyone to be crazy, doing the opposite of normal. He insists that their only focus is on their fans. While Cole never mentions investments, his idea of doing the opposite of what everyone else is doing sounds like the contrarian investment strategy (See Dreman, Contrarian Investment Strategies). His goal is to be successful while having fun and putting his fans first (Fans First Entertainment is the name of Cole’s business).

When I started reading this book, I thought it should be read by everyone in leadership at Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church. By the time I was done with it, I thought it should be read by everyone. I recommend you read it and start having fun while you find success by helping others.

It’s All About the Cross

Jeff Garrison
Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church
August 30, 2020
Matthew 16:21-26

Click here to watch the service. The sermon begins at 18 minutes if you want to fast-forward. 

Beginning of Worship:  I saw a meme the other day. A man at a bar ordered a Corona and two hurricanes. “That’d be 20.20,” the bartender said. It’s not been a good year so far. It seems like we’ve all been carrying a cross over the past eight months. But is this what Jesus means when he says we are to pick up our cross and follow him?

The cross is a symbol we see everywhere. We have several in our sanctuary. We wear it as jewelry. It populates cemeteries and are often placed beside the road where there has been a fatal accident. But what does it means when Jesus tells us to pick up the cross? That’s today’s topic.

This is our second Sunday in the 16th Chapter of Matthew. If you remember, last week, Peter nails it. He confesses Jesus to be the Messiah. Today, he doesn’t look so good. He can’t accept Jesus’ plan involving the cross. Last week, Peter was praised. This week, he’s called Satan. There’s good news here because our lives are similar. We can do good and great things and we can do rotten things. Aren’t you glad there’s grace?

Jesus does something radical and he invites us to follow him, but it’s a costly invitation. Jesus demands our very lives. For those of us who follow Jesus, the cross becomes our sign of God’s power as Paul eloquently states in First Corinthians, but to others it’s foolishness.[1] But as a sign, the cross is not easily understood.

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After the Scripture Reading: What does it mean to pick up our cross and follow Jesus? Maybe a better way to ask this question is what does it mean to be a follower of Jesus Christ?  We have to be careful that we don’t cheapen the bearing of our cross in an attempt to explain our trials. Carrying the cross isn’t just enduring a bad time, like 2020. Picking up our cross and following Christ has life changing implications. We admit we’re not in control. It’s no longer about us and what we want and what we think we need. Instead, it’s all about the man up ahead, the one we are following.

Think about the theology of the cross in light of two seeming contradictions in scripture: Jesus’ call for us to pick up our cross and proclaims that he’s come to set us free.[2]

In Jesus’ day, no one thought of the cross as a sign of freedom.  In fact, a cross was viewed in just the opposite. It was a sign of torture, a reminder of the imperial power of Rome that subjected a huge portion of the population to slavery. In Rome, if a slave rebelled, the cross was the normal method of execution. The cross was a tool the Romans used to cement their control. When Jesus tells the disciples to pick up their cross and follow, they may have had second thoughts.

This particular passage is recounted in all three of the synoptic gospels—which tells us something about the impression it made on the disciples.[3] Yes, we know Peter doesn’t like the idea of Jesus dying, but that was all before Jesus issues this command. None of the gospels give us an idea of how the disciples and the crowd responded to Jesus’ call at this point. Such an omission is a part of the plan, I believe, for it allows us to respond to Jesus’ call in our own ways. This morning, we’re wrestling with what it means to pick up our cross. First, I am going to discuss some mistaken ways this call is interpreted: I’ll label these three as triumphant militarism, naive pacifism, and sentimentalism. Then I will offer ideas on how we are to be a servant of Jesus Christ and faithfully answer his call.

Peter’s idea of picking up the cross falls into my triumphant militaristic category. Remember, he’s the disciple who, at Jesus’ arrest, pulls out a sword and slashes the ear off of one of the men.[4] I imagine Peter, a fisherman whose muscles were well defined from working the nets, as a strong man. At this stage of his Christian walk, he’s a Rambo type character, ready to pull up the cross and use it as a club to pound his foes. Peter and the other disciples are ready for Jesus to set up a worldly kingdom. Peter wants Jesus to be King so he can be an advisor, right next to Jesus’ throne, the second in command.

When Jesus started talking about this suffering stuff, Peter gets nervous and decides he’d better try to steer his leader in a different direction. “Hey Jesus,” Peter remarks, “let’s rethink this part about dying.” But Jesus’ way wins out. The cross is not to be used by us as a weapon, nor does it give us any protection other than being a symbol of what Jesus has done for us.

If triumphant militarism is one extreme rejected by Jesus, so is the other extreme, which I label naive pacifism. I chose the term naive because pacifism for many Christians is an appropriate response. But when the path is naively chosen, we forget that we’re called to resist evil, to deny evil power in the world and instead we become a sacrificial pawn. Just as we should not use the cross as a weapon, it’s not to be used as a white flag of surrender, either. Jesus picked up his cross and carried it to Calvary in order to offer his life for sins you and I have committed.  Jesus died for our sins so that we don’t need to die for them, nor should we be expected to die for the sins of others. But this doesn’t mean there’s not work for us to do.

If we’re not to be militants or pacifists, we might be led to think the proper understanding—the middle way of understanding Jesus’ call—is sentimentalism.  Sadly, this is the way many people look at the cross. We clean up its horrific image and use it as jewelry and decor on our cars.  But such an understanding of the cross—if it goes no deeper—misses the point. It can even become a political statement or a superstition, which is idolatry. If the cross is only seen for its sentimental value—we’ve cheapened Jesus’ call.

I don’t know if I can give an understanding of what picking up one’s cross should mean to us all. Certainly, I think it means more than having a piece of jewelry. For a few people, it may mean martyrdom—as it did for many of the disciples. But Jesus certainly didn’t expect all his followers to be crucified. Secondly, martyrdom is not the highest virtue. Instead of martyr, the virtue we strive for is faithfulness. Yet, we learn from Jesus, if we love our life we will lose it.  Paul expands this thought when he speaks of our need to put to death the desires of the flesh and to live for Christ.[5]

By calling us to pick up our cross, Christ informs us that we’re not in charge of our Christian journey. We must be willing to follow him. Our calling isn’t about our needs or our desires, but about Jesus’ desire for us and for our lives. As Christians, we all have a calling that is linked to our vocations. Since we live our Christian life throughout the week, and we all have different occupations and trades, we each have to determine how we can best be true to our Savior. I can’t give a single definition of what picking up our cross will mean for everyone, just as Matthew didn’t tell us of the disciples response to this call.

As a seminary student, when I was a camp director in Idaho, we had each of the campers carry a live-size cross during a hike. Afterwards, around a campfire, we debriefed. Some told how difficult it was to physically carry the cross—toting the awkward beams and of the splinters. Others spoke about how they were uncomfortable to be out front of the rest of the campers, with everyone following and looking at them. Others had even more difficulty watching their fellow campers struggle. These wanted to show compassion by taking the burden of their friends.

These responses from the campers provide an insight into what the cross means and maybe an idea of how we pick up our crosses. When Jesus took up his cross, he was taking on the burdens of the world. He didn’t take the cross on his own behalf, but on our behalf. It wasn’t someone who lived a comfortable life that brought salvation to the world; it was someone who shared in the suffering of the whole world. We must understand that Jesus’ death on the cross is sufficient for our sins and the sins of the world.[6]

The penalty for sin—death—has been paid in full and none of us is being called to make another deposit—we’re not being called to save the world.[7]  By picking up the cross, Jesus shows his willingness to share in our pains and sorrows.  And he calls us, his disciples, to share in the pain of others. The campers who expressed compassion for the one carrying the cross understood, at least partly, what is means to be indebted to someone for taking on our burdens and for us to be ready to have compassion for others who are in pain. One meaning of picking up our cross is for us to be willing to stand beside others in need—whatever form that need might take. Jesus takes our burdens, he shoulders our cross, and the only way we can have a glimpse of what he feels is to feel the pain and burdens of others. So maybe our crosses have to do with how we show compassion.

I think our vicariously sharing in the pain of others also helps us to understand the proverb Jesus cites at the end of our passage. Jesus reminds us that whoever wants to save their lives will lose them and whoever loses their lives for his sake will find them. This is one of those great reversal statements of Jesus, but notice Jesus doesn’t call us to lose our lives in the lives of others. Rather, he calls us to place himself first in our lives—to put our total trust in him. Our call to discipleship is not to place some other than Jesus first (despite what politicians—many of whom have a messiah-complex, might hope for). Nor is our call to place ourselves first. It’s a call to follow Jesus and put our total trust in him. It means we must obey the first commandment: to have no god other than the one true God.  It means to take seriously the great commandment: to love God—the God revealed in Jesus Christ—with all our hearts and souls and minds and strength.

If we are grounded in our love for God as revealed in Jesus Christ, we will be able to fearlessly pick up our crosses, whatever form it may take, when Jesus calls. This means following Jesus even if it means losing our friends or being alienated from our families. This means following Jesus even though we will be despised. And it means we must be willing to follow Jesus even if lose our lives. We follow Jesus, and only him. Jesus is all that matters. Amen.

©2020

[1] 1 Corinthians 1:18

[2] See John 8:32-36.

[3] Matthew 16”24-28, Mark 8:34-9:1 and Luke 9:23-27. In each of these gospels, this scene is followed by the Transfiguration. Only Mark has the previous story of Peter confessing Jesus to be the Messiah.

[4] John 18:10.

[5] Romans 8:13.

[6] See Hebrews 10:1-18.

[7] 1 Corinthians 15:56.