Tag: Sermon

Posted on

Introduction to Daniel

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
August 8, 2021
Daniel 1:1-7

Recorded under the picnic shelter at Bluemont Presbyterian Church on Friday, August 6, 2021

Introduction at the beginning of worship

This Sunday I’m going to begin another series of sermons, this time through the Book of Daniel. This is an interesting and somewhat controversial book within what we call the “Old Testament.” While the Jewish Bible contains the same books as our Old Testament, they are arranged differently. While we think of Daniel as a prophet, the Jewish Bible has him as part of the writings, that include books like the Psalms, history, and wisdom literature.[1]  

There are other controversies. Daniel is not the most accurate historian. His dating of events is, at times, in conflict with other books in the Old Testament.[2] He also gets some details confused. In today’s readings, we’re told of King Nebuchadnezzar siege and defeat of Jerusalem. At the time, Nebuchadnezzar wasn’t king. He was the crown prince, but shortly thereafter became king. But this is a minor fact. 

There is also a debate among scholars on the dating of the book.[3] Was it written in Babylonian or later, probably in the second Century before Christ? Or, as I tend to lean, was the book written at a later day collecting stories that came from Babylon. 

While the dating of Daniel is uncertain, what’s certain is that the book involves how one might live faithfully when society challenges one’s faith. When we consider the book in this light, there is much that we can learn and apply to our lives today. Daniel offers hope, for we learn that despite what happens, God is still in control and working to fulfill his plans.

Read Daniel 1:1-7

After the reading of Scripture

As you know, I spent two weeks away, one of which was study leave. I settled into a house overlooking the St. Mary’s River in northern Michigan. This is where the freighters make their way to and from the mills along the shores of Lake Michigan, Huron and Erie, to the mines along Lake Superior’s shores. I was armed with a stack of books for the times when no ship was in sight. In addition to the Bible, my books included a couple of commentaries on the Book of Daniel, Howard Thurman’s Jesus and the Disinherited, and a brand-new biography of Karl Barth that has just been released in English. 

On the surface, it may seem that these books have nothing to do with one another. Thurman, who was a classmate of Martin Luther King, Jr’s, father, wrote for to the African American community in the 1940s. Barth, a Swiss theologian who had taught in Germany, found himself exiled back to Switzerland in 1935 for his criticism of the Nazis. And then there was Daniel.  

I found a thread that ran through all these books. I sum it up with this question, “How do we live faithfully when we have lost almost everything?” Growing up in South Florida in the first half of the 20thCentury, Thurman addresses this topic for his readers who were oppressed. In a way, they never had much to lose, except for their dignity.[4] As for Barth, he was forced from a prestigious chair of theology and even lost the distinction to be called, “Doctor” when the German university revoked his title.[5] But both found there was something more important than even than life itself. What’s important is to be faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ. God must come first in all our lives.

The Book of Daniel begins at the low point in Israel’s history. Israel has been defeated. Part of the temple treasury now sits in the temples of Babylonian gods. 

The first to be exiled to Babylon

Some of her brightest and most promising young men are hauled away into exile. This was the first invasion by Babylon, in 605 BC. Jerusalem would be attacked and defeated two more times by the Babylonians, the last resulting in the destruction of Solomon’s temple in 587 BC. That attack resulted in a large majority of the people being led into exile. But that would come later. 

What happened to Jerusalem when first defeated is that Babylon, to force compliance in its conquered territories, took some of the leading young men for training in Babylon. On one level, they were hostages. But these dudes were also lucky. They were sent to an elite school, provided with good food and living quarters, and taught by the best teachers. 

This is an old strategy still in use. The Chinese Communist party pulls some of the most promising students from their ethnic minorities, often from western China, and relocates them into the eastern part of the country to educated them into the ways of the Han Chinese. Our nation did this with Native American youth, who were relocated to the “Indian School” in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 

The hope of such a strategy is that these “educated” students will become leaders within their communities and encourage everyone to adopt the dominate culture. In Babylonian’s case, it was also to have trained interpreters who could speak and write in both languages, which were quite different.

But the problem with such a system is that something is always lost. Those who are taken lose their connections to their families and heritage and, in many cases, their religion. 

In the case of the Hebrews taken during the first and second exiles, which included not just Daniel and his three friends, but also Ezekiel,[6]they lost their connection to their homeland. In a way, it seems, they’ve lost their God. For you see, in the ancient world, a nation’s deity was seen as having power only where the people lived. When you were defeated in battle, it was easy to assume your enemy’s god was stronger than your god. 

God’s in control and practices “Tough Love”

However, Daniel makes it clear that the God of Israel, who is the God, with a capital “G”, is the God over all gods. In the second verse, we’re told that God allowed his own people to be defeated, giving them to the Babylonians. 

Obviously, God practices “tough love.” We should remember this! 

This was a secret for the Hebrews in exile and for those in later generations. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the God of all creation. Nebuchadnezzar could think he was in control. He seemed to have the freedom to steal from the temple in Jerusalem and to give those objects to his own gods in Babylon. But he didn’t know that this didn’t reflect badly on the God of the Hebrews. Even though he didn’t know, Nebuchadnezzar was used by God for a purpose larger than even his kingdom. 

Jerusalem finest youth

So, the Babylonians haul off some of Jerusalem’s finest young men. We’re not told their age, but they’re at the point in life that they are considered wise and capable of serving in the king’s palace. My guess is that they were in their late teens or early 20s.[7] They are young enough they can still grasp another language, but old enough to have mastered being in the king’s service. Now they’re entering a three-year program to serve a new king. 

The significance of new names

One of the first things that happens when they get to Babylon is a name change. No longer will they go by their Hebrew names. They now have Babylonian names. In a way their identity is stolen. When someone assigns you a name, outside your parents, they are attempting to show their control over you. These Hebrew young men no longer have control over their own lives, as we’re going to see over the next month or so.[8]

Roger Kahn, the great baseball writer, wrote about having lunch with Jackie Robinson, the first African American to play in the major leagues. This was a few years after Robinson had retired from baseball. Robinson invited Kahn to lunch to discuss his autobiography. 

While eating and chatting, a man came up to their table and said, “Could you be a good boy, and give me your autograph.” Robinson blew up, “What did you call me?”  

Shaken, the man backed away, and asked again, more politely. “That wasn’t what you said,” Robinson yell. Then he asked who the autograph was for. When the man said it was for his grandson, Robinson agreed to sign an autograph. 

Afterwards, Kahn asked Robinson if he wasn’t being too hard on the man. Robinson laughed it off and said, “That’ll be the last time he calls a black man a boy.”[9]

When you have the power to name, you have power over what you name. This is a Biblical concept that we see in the beginning of Genesis, where God gave Adam the right to name the animals.[10]

Conclusion

Over the next few months, we’re going to see more of our four Hebrew friends that we meet in the opening verses of Daniel. They serve as examples of how to live when society attempts to change us in ways that will deny our faith. Daniel is a good book for the church to explore at a time when we have lost influence in the world. From this book, we learn that even though we may have lost influence, God is still God. In the end, what matters is our faithfulness to God. 

And the question we’re left with, the one we all must answer, when we like Daniel have lost all that is important, is this: is God enough?  Amen. 

[1] A case can be debated as to where Daniel belongs. If one sees apocalyptic chapters (2, 7-12) aligned with Israel’s prophetic tradition, it makes sense for Daniel to be a prophet. However, the first six chapters are more “historic” than prophetic and there is also those who like Israel’s apocalyptic writings with wisdom literature. With Daniel, you also have prayers. Taking these ideas into account, a case can be made for it to fit within Israel’s writings (history and wisdom). For a detail discussion, see the Introduction to Robert A. Anderson’s Daniel: Signs and Wonders (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984), xiii-xvii.

[2] W, Sibley Towner, Daniel, (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1984), 22. 

[3] Anderson, 2-4

[4] Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited (1949, Boston: Beacon Press, 1996).

[5] Christiane Tiez, Carl Barth: A Life in Conflict (Oxford, 2021), 

[6] The opening of Ezekiel places him in Babylonian before Jerusalem’s final fall. See Ezekiel 1:1-3. Also chapters 4-10. 

[7] At this point, I disagree with Bill Creasy and his Bible study on Daniel (that Mayberry’s Sunday School class is using). Creasy thinks Daniel to be much earlier, around 12, but I am not sure a 12-year-old would have been at the level in their training to be considered wise and capable of serving in the king’s court. 

[8] Another book that I read while gone was Gregory Orr, A Primer for Poets and Readers of Poetry (New York: Norton, 2018). He devotes an entire chapter on how some poetry, to bring order to chaos, uses naming. The one who names claims a certain about of power. See chapter 8 (pages 160-182).  

[9] This recalled from memory from Roger Kahn, The Boys of Summer (1973). 

[10] In Genesis 1, God gives the man and woman dominion over creation. In the creation story in Genesis 2, this dominion is shown by giving the man the right to name. See Genesis 2:7.

The lighthouse and foghorn at Whitefish Point, MI

Posted on

Jesus: The Bread of Life

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Presbyterian Church
August 1, 2021
John 6:25-40

 

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Presbyterian Church on Friday, July 30, 2021

At the beginning of worship:

      I want to thank Libby Wilcox and Mike Nyquist for preaching the last two weeks. The texts they used—from Matthew and John’s gospel, both spoke of Jesus’ feeding of the multitude. In John’s gospel, there is a follow up to this story. When word spreads about Jesus having free bread, crowds multiply. 

       Jesus wants to teach a deeper lesson. He equates bread with God’s word. This isn’t anything new. It’s in the Old Testament. In Deuteronomy, we are reminded we live not by bread alone, but by the word of God. Lady Wisdom in Proverbs invites all to come and eat of her bread and drink of her wine. The prophet Amos speaks of a coming famine. But he’s not talking about a shortage of bread, but of the word of God.[1]

Bread is an appropriate symbol of God’s word. Bread made of grain sustains our bodies; bread as the word of God sustains our lives. Bread that is old becomes stale; it needs to be constantly refreshed. So does our faith, which is refreshed as we study God’s word.

Read John 6:25-40

After the scripture

Jesus wants to give the crowd so much more than a few crumbs which will soon be consumed or mold. But the crowd, some whom benefited from Jesus’ dramatic feeding of the multitude the day before, don’t get it. They want food. 

The climax of this passage comes in verses 34 and 35. Then the crowd asks Jesus to give them bread always and Jesus responds, “I am the bread of life.” These guys are talking to Jesus, God incarnate, and all they can think about are their stomachs. 

Coming down hard on the crowds

It’s easy to come down hard on the crowd. Yes, we know, they’re greedy. But then, are we any different? When I consider my prayer life, I know how I’m much more likely I am to pray when I am in need or trouble. “Lord, I just want…, Lord, I just need…” Am I any different than the crowd? Are you? If I’d been there, not only would I have wanted such bread, I’d wanted it hot and fresh and with a tad of butter and a bit of jam? Out taste buds draw us in. 

Jesus attempts to pound through their heads that bread, made of flour and water, isn’t what’s most important. Bread molds. Remember, Jesus’ advice about not worrying about storing up riches that rust or can be stolen?[2]  Ultimately, things aren’t important. Jesus is important. Jesus Christ, God incarnate. Jesus gives and sustains life. But the temptation to think otherwise is overwhelming! 

When you’re hungry and your stomach is gnawing, a loaf of bread looks pretty good. When you’re feeling blue, the idea of feasting on a rich meal or drowning your sorrows in well-aged bourbon or rich ice cream is tempting. We all suffer from a spiritual hunger and try to fill this void with stuff.[3] On TV we’re told, in not-so-subtle terms, that new cars and certain beverages will help us to enjoy life to the fullness. But it doesn’t work; we end up even hungrier.      

       Yes, it’s too easy to come down too hard on the crowd. Sure, they’re greedy. But we are no different!  It’s just that the economic scales have changed. We no longer crave simple bread; we’d want a croissant or at least raisin bread with a tad of peanut butter.  Think about it. Bread is such a basic food; we take it for granted. 

For us, bread is cheap

How many of you don’t eat the end pieces of a loaf? Let’s see hands. At best, I bet, we crumble them up and feed them to the birds. At worst, they end up in the landfill feeding the seagulls. And why should we eat the end pieces when we can run to the store and pick up a fresh loaf. 

Bread is cheap. Even someone making minimum wage earns enough to buy a loaf in 15 minutes.

       Now, I’m neither an economist nor an anthropologist, but I’d venture to guess those in the ancient world labored a lot more than a quarter of an hour for their daily bread. Think of all involved. The planting and harvesting of wheat, the grinding of the grain by hand, the mixing and kneading and shaping of the dough, and building of the fire in the oven, the proofing and baking. They couldn’t rush down to the store and buy a loaf using the spare change lying on their dashboard. Bread had value. They’d seen Jesus break a few loaves of bread and fed 5,000 folks. They’d feasted at Jesus’ table and wanted more!  

My bakery experience

       I worked in a wholesale bakery for five years. It started as a summer job between my first and second year in college. They liked me. When promised to work with my college schedule if I stayed on, I agreed. For the next three years, I went to school in the mornings and went to work in the afternoon. 

I still remember the first time I entered the plant and was overcome with the aroma. The smell of yeast bread baking seemed heavenly. It didn’t last. Pretty soon, I didn’t notice the smells anymore and the excitement of watching the loaves rise and bake waned. It became a job; I took it all for granted, kind of like the crowd taking Jesus’ miracles for granted.

       I quickly worked up the ranks and during my senior year of college, I was also a production supervisor. With seven employees and a lot of modern technology, I oversaw the production of 6,000 to 7,000 pounds of bread an hour. A lot of dough! 

If you figure a ½ pound of bread a person, technology has caught up with one of Jesus’ great miracles. Jesus and the disciples fed 5,000 people—we could have done the same in about twenty minutes. Of course, we needed a few ingredients like a rail car of flour, tank cars of sweetener and shortening, pallets of yeast and salt along with lots of electricity and natural gas. In Jesus’ day, it would have taken quite a production to produce that much bread which makes his miracle even greater!   

       One of my claims to fame as a baker was throwing away more bread than anyone else in the history of the plant. In one hot summer afternoon, we threw away 24,000 loaves of pound and half bread—that’s 36,000 pounds or 18 tons. 

The bread this day rose nicely in the proof box. But when it came onto the conveyor between the proofer and oven, it dropped flat as a pancake. By the time we realized we had a problem and checked everything, we had all the loaves for that batch in the system. The only thing to do was to bake the bread and then dump the loaves out of the pans, by hand, for they were too small to be picked up by the depanner. As the loaves accumulated on the floor, a forklift equipped with a scoop, picked it up and took it the loading dock. 

It was humbling to watch that much bread go to waste. This was especially true for me, the guy in charge. I had no idea what the problem might be. We tried everything. Finally, after nothing helped, we did something radical. We changed all our ingredients, going to new manufacturing lots. This meant hauling pallets of fresh ingredients from the warehouse and changing the silo from which we drew the flour. After six hours, the bread returned to normal. 

I could finally breathe a sigh of relief even though a cloud hung over my head. It took a few days, but after having a lab test our bread and the ingredients we were using, the mystery was solved. The enrichment, those vitamins and stuff you add to flour to replace that which is lost in the milling and bleaching process, had way too much iron. 

The extra iron was the problem. My neck was saved. Our ingredient supplier reimbursed us for the cost of the wasted bread—I suppose you could say he brought dinner for thousands of hogs in eastern North Carolina, as that’s how we disposed of most of the bread.[4]

We take bread for granted

Bread, for us, is not as special as it was for our ancestors. They couldn’t image throwing away that much bread! To the ancient ones, bread was considered a gift from God. It was to be used and not wasted. For some Jews, you don’t waste even a bite of bread. This custom has its roots in the wilderness experience where they had to depend daily upon God’s manna from heaven. 

In our modern world, we need to consider the work that goes into bread and cherish it as a gift. Like Jesus conversation about water in John 4, here he takes a common item and makes it holy. God is encounter through the ordinary!  

Encountering Jesus in the ordinary

Kathleen Norris has a little book titled The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and “Women’s Work.” Quotidian is a sixty-four dollar word that means ordinary. In this book she brings out how the divine can be encountered through ordinary events of the day. Quoting another author, she recalls an “Ah-ha” moment: “I had never thought about the obvious fact that preparing a meal can be a sign of caring and loving communication because food just has never been an avenue of communication for me.”[5]

Jesus uses the bread to communicate a more sustaining truth about himself! Norris goes on to suggest that our daily ordinary tasks, if approached reverently, can save us from the trap that religion is merely an intellectual exercise of “right belief.”[6] Our God is Lord of all and therefore concerned with all aspects of our lives.

 Even though bread is so common for us that we take it for granted, we should not lose sight that it’s not that way for many people in the world. Bread, in the form of tortillas, is still the basic food of survival in many countries to the south of us. Watching women make tortillas in Honduras, a daily task, reminds us that we’re to pray for our daily bread.  Even though bread may represent only a fraction of our budgets, we need to consider its value and treat it with respect. 

Seeing bread as a valuable gift, we link the bread that sustains our bodies and the bread that sustains our lives. One loaf nourishes our bodies and the other our souls. Both are ultimately from God. Together they make us whole and for both we should give thanks

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we thought of Jesus throughout the day, whenever we encountered bread? At breakfast as we butter toast, we give thanks. At lunch, as we slather peanut butter and jelly between two slices of bread, we give thanks. At dinner, as we chew on freshly baked biscuits or yeasted rolls, we give thanks.

 If we could just pause a moment before consuming another slice of bread, and think about Jesus, we’d begin to appreciate bread and all the hands that go into making it. And we’d also begin to sense just how important Jesus is to our lives… Amen. 

Making tortillas in Guatamala 2018 Photo by Jeff Garrison

[1] Deuteronomy 8:3; Proverbs 9:5-6; Amos 8:11ff

[2] Matthew 6:19-20.

[3] Craig Barnes addresses this spiritual hunger in many of his books.  See especially Yearnings: Living Between How it is and How It Ought to Be (Dowers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 1991) and Sacred Thirst (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001).

[4] I provide more details of this fiasco in this blog post: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/07/another-bakery-story-the-perils-of-working-on-the-christian-sabbath/   

[5] Kathleen Norris, The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and “Women’s Work.”(New York: Paulist Press, 1988), 73.

[6] Norris, 77.

Posted on

Fear, the impact of a guilty conscious

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
July 11, 2021
Mark 6:14-29

Thoughts at the beginning of worship

Last week we saw how, when famous, it can be humbling to go home where people know you too well. It was no different for Jesus. He visits his hometown and immediately faces opposition. So, he leaves. But he also greatly increases his ministry as he sends out the disciples two by two. 

This week, we’re going to see another impact of Jesus’ message, this time on those in power. This passage follows shortly after Jesus’ telling of the “Parable of the Sower.” That parable is followed by another examples of how the gospel fails to take hold. According to the New Testament scholar, Mary Ann Tolbert, whom I quote in today’s bulletin, our story today falls into the seed that is choked by weeds. Herod is an example of one more concerned with the world that with the gospel.[1]

Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great, rules Galilee. The Herods were ruthless rulers and very corrupt. When this Herod hears about Jesus, his guilty conscious makes him think John the Baptist, whom he had killed, has come back to haunt him. Our text today isn’t even about Jesus. This is the only section in Mark’s gospel that’s not primarily about Jesus.[2]

Read Mark 6:14-29

After the Scripture

A ride on the city bus

from https://www.petersburg.k12.va.us/walnuthill

We moved to Petersburg, Virginia just before I started the first grade. I spent my first three years of school at Walnut Hill Elementary. There were no school buses in the city. You either walked to school, your parents carried you, or if lucky, you got ride the city bus to school. The later was a treat which I only did once. When you’re six years old, it doesn’t take much to be impressed and consider something a treat. Most of the time my parents drove me to school. 

However, one day, early in the school year, I got to ride the bus. I’m not sure why. Maybe my father was out of town and a sibling was sick so mom couldn’t take me. Whatever reason, mom sent me on bus stop with Ellen. 

       Ellen was an older woman, a six grader who lived next door. She seemed to get a kick out of taking me places. When she did, she always introduced me as her boyfriend. This didn’t bother me much because the perks were good. She took me to the pool on hot and humid summer afternoons. 

       On this day, as I was getting on the bus, I realized I had left my fare at home. I had a nickel in my pocket for a carton of milk, that’s how much it cost back in 1963. There was no time to run home, so I pulled it out to give it to the bus driver. Ellen intervened. She told the driver I needed that money for milk. The driver said he’d pay my fare and I could repay him the next time I rode the bus. 

       There was no next time. A week or so later, during the week John F. Kennedy was shot, we moved. Out new home was close enough to the school that I could walk. I never rode the bus again and never repaid the driver. 

My guilty conscious

We lived in Petersburg another two and a half years. The whole time I feared bus drivers. When a bus came down the street, I turned my head so they wouldn’t recognize me. I assumed there was a character sketch of me on a wanted poster in the bus garage. I knew if the driver saw me, he would stop and demand his nickel along with some interest. My conscious was guilt-ridden. 

Although I didn’t want to leave my friends and worried about hurricanes as we moved after the third grade down near coast of North Carolina, I also let out a sigh of relief. If you’re going to be a fugitive, it’s safer to do it in another state where your misdeeds are unknown. 

Herod’s fear

       Certainly, my misdeeds were nowhere near as evil as Herod, but I understand his fear.  Like his father Herod the Great, the one who so feared the birth of a child that he had innocent children killed,[3] Herod Antipas lived a scared life. He feared his evil deeds would catch up with him. So, when word spread about Jesus’ teachings and miracles, Herod thought the worst. “John the Baptist has come back to haunt me.”

       We don’t know all the story about Herod and his wife, Herodias.[4]Mark tells us John challenged the two of them since Herodias had been married to Herod’s brother, Philip. We are left to assume Philip is still alive, making the marriage an adulterous relationship. 

More details into Herod’s life

Josephus, the ancient Jewish historian, provides more insight into what happened. Herod was in Rome and stayed with his brother while there. He became enamored with his brother’s wife. It appears the attraction was mutual. Herod takes his brother’s wife back to Galilee. Complicating matters is that Herod already had a wife, the daughter of Aretas IV. Herod’s father-in-law ruled the providence just north of Herod’s kingdom. Getting wind of what was happening (Herod returning with his brother’s wife), Herod’s legal wife fled to her father’s kingdom. He, in turn, invade Herod’s kingdom and defeated Herod’s army. The Jews saw this as God’s punishment for Herod’s misdeeds. Rome had to intervene and established peace between Herod and his former father-in-law.[5]

Speaking truth to power

Understand this, John the Baptist attack on Herod and his adulterous relationship created a political problem in addition to a moral one. With a jilted ex-wife and her father on his border, willing to support a revolt against Herod, any threat of rebellion was feared. But the Baptist felt it necessary to speak truth to power. To appear strong, Herod has John arrested. The move, he hopes, silences John. 

Strange as it seems, we’re told in these verses that Herod likes John. He considers the Baptist a righteous and holy man. He protects John from the wrath of his wife. Herod’s psychological make-up is complex. On one hand, he knows right from wrong. But on the other, as a man afraid of what might happen to him, his actions are ruthless.

On his birthday, Herod so enjoyed the dance his stepdaughter performed that he promises her anything. She could even have half of his kingdom. The girl, who was probably in her mid-teens, runs to her mom for advice. Her mother doesn’t appear to have a moral bone in her body. Her daughter could be set for life, but instead, she uses this request to rid herself of her critic. 

“Ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter,” she suggests. They’re at a banquet after all, so a platter goes with the decor. Herod feels he has no options. His promise and his desire to appear strong place him into a position that compromises any moral compass he may have had. 

There ain’t a lot of good news in this passage. It’s a commentary on power. Herod has all the power that could needed. The only way he could have been more powerful was to be Caesar, but that wasn’t in the cards. In his kingdom, he had power over life and death. If he kept peace and collected taxes, Rome stayed off his back. He could do as he pleased. But he still shook in his boots. He was afraid of what his ex-wife and her father might do. He was afraid of John. He was afraid of looking weak.

As we learn in this passage, when Jesus began preaching, Herod takes notice. “Good grief,” he probably said, “John’s back.” Herod is afraid of the dead. This passage reminds us of the power of words and ideas. John’s words and the ideal of a righteous life scared the most powerful man in Galilee. Those who trust in the power of brute force will always, sooner or later, be disappointed and punished.[6]

It also goes without saying that those who speak truth to power may suffer in this life. Their reward may not be in the present. John the Baptist and other such prophets-the Martin Luther Kings, the Bonhoeffers, and the Joan of Arks will be rewarded. But it may not be until the next life. 

Herod knew he had done wrong. The belief that John had returned was the work of a guilty conscious. 

We know Herod finally met Jesus.[7] He just happened to be in Jerusalem for Passover, a few years later, when Jesus is arrested and taken to Pilate. Learning that Jesus was from Galilee, Pilate sends him over to Herod, hoping to get out of the middle of this mess between the Jews. By this point in the story, Herod no longer thinks Jesus is John. He is, however, glad to see Jesus. He’s heard a lot about this man. 

In the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, Herod taunts Jesus to walk across a swimming pool. Jesus refuses to do or say anything, so Herod dresses Jesus up and sends him back to Pilate. Herod could have done the right thing and freed Jesus, but again, he takes the easy way out. Isn’t that just like us? Take the easy way out. But instead of taking the easy road, we should take the righteous road.

Closing

In closing, I want to go back to the story I told you in the beginning. I don’t want you to have a wrong impression of me. It was probably 20 years ago, when I was living in Utah, I wrote a short memoir piece about not paying the bus fare. I showed this to my mom asked if she remembered it. She did. She also remembered giving Ellen the money to give to the driver the next day. For about thirty years, I worried about a debt that had been paid by my mother. I think we are often like that in our relationship with Jesus Christ. Although John didn’t rise from the grave to accuse Herod, Jesus did rise from grave. He died, and rose, and paid our debt. And for that, we should be forever thankful. Amen. 

[1] Mary Ann Tolbert, Sowing the Gospel: Mark’s World in Literary-Historical Perspective (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 158. 

[2] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to St. Mark (Hendrickson Publishers, 1991), 158

[3] See Matthew 2 (especially verses 16-18). 

[4] She was also related to Herod, through her grandfather Herod the Great (see Hooker, 160). In addition to being corrupt, incest wasn’t unusual for the family (Lane, 218, provides a family tree for the Herods). It also should be noted that Herod wasn’t a King (as we’re told in Mark 6:14). He was a tetrarch. While he wanted to be a king and some may have referred to him in such a manner, he never obtained the title from Rome. Mark may even be mocking Herod by using this title (Lane, 211). 

[5] This story is told more fully (but with some differences than scripture) in Josephus, The Antiquities of the Jews XVIII, 3. As for the differences, Josephus was writing long after the events (40 or so years) and has a different point of view. For a detail treatment of the differences between Josephus and Mark, see William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 215-220.

[6] Acts 12:20-23.

[7] Luke 23:6-12. 

Posted on

Hometown Rejection and Rough Roads

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
July 4, 2021
Mark 6:1-13

The video of the sermon was recorded on Friday at Mayberry Church. Because it was recorded on Friday, it is a bit different that the text below (that had two days more to jell).

Thoughts at the beginning of worship:

It’s a rough road to glory. You could also make such a case for the American Revolution, but we see such in the life of Jesus. Last week, Jesus was riding high. He’d healed a sick woman and raised a young girl back to life. Things looked up for Jesus. His stock rose in the eyes of the people. 

Today we’re going to see what happens when he visits his hometown. There is nothing like going home to be humbled. At home, people know you too well. I have had several opportunities to preach in my home church and it’s humbling to be up front with your six grade Sunday School teacher eyeing you from the front pew. She probably went to her grave thinking I was still up to something. I’m not sure Jesus had the same troubles, but maybe. After all, it didn’t matter if I was guilty or not, she just assumed I was up to something.  

Our text reminds us that things are not always easy and that’s okay. Flannery O’Conner, a southern writer who spent her early years in Savannah, thought it should be normal for Christians to be suffering in some fashion. And if we’re not suffering, she suggested we check and see if we we’re following Christ as closely as we think we are.[1]

Today, our passage has two parts. First, we hear about Jesus returning to his hometown with less than warm welcome he received. He caught grief. Then we get a glimpse of how Jesus’ revolution works. The disciples are sent out, two by two. They travel light. This is no pleasurable stroll in the country. 

Read Mark 6:1-13

After reading the Scripture

Thursday morning, while pondering how to begin today’s sermon, I killed some time thumbing through my Twitter feed and came across this from Eric Clapp:

If your pastor doesn’t quote President Thomas J Whitemore’s words to the Air Force regiment as they prepare to save earth from an alien invasion and herald a global Independence Day, it’s time to find a new church.[2]

If any of you want Clapp’s contact information in your search for a new church, just ask. For I don’t plan to base today’s message on a dystopian action movie. But his tweet allows me to make this point. Different people have different expectations and you’re never going to please everyone. We see that in today’s Scripture.

Preaching on Independence Day

       That said, there are certain days that preaching is harder than others. The fourth of July is one of those hard days. After all, a sermon should be based on Scripture and there is nothing about America, hot dogs or apple pie in the Bible. Nor is there anything about fireworks, except perhaps for those at Sodom and Gomorrah, and we certainly don’t want to go there today.

       I didn’t realize just how difficult preaching today is until I saw the analysis of polls on American Christian identity. I hope it’s wrong, for only a small minority said that their faith was most important to their identity. An overwhelming majority said it was their faith and being American were equally important. And in another small minority, their American identity was most important.[3] Those who think being American is equal or more important than their faith should memorize Exodus 20:3, “You shall have no other gods before me.” 

While we should be proud to be an American, we must always remember that our allegiance first and foremost belongs to God as revealed in Jesus Christ. And we should also understand that in Scripture, independence and freedom has to do with God breaking the chains of sin, not a human political rebellion. 

       This doesn’t mean that celebrating our national independence is wrong. I hope to enjoy fireworks this evening and maybe even eat a hot dog or a slice of watermelon. However, we are called to keep our priorities straight as we saw in the 89th Psalm, a portion of which we used for our Call to Worship. 

This Psalm celebrates God’s covenant with David. The point is made. God always comes first. While our nation revolted against a king, there is a king we better not revolt against, and that’s Jesus Christ.[4]When we accept Jesus as Lord and Savior, our allegiance shifts to him and his kingdom. Of course, we know not everyone buys into Jesus in this manner. It’s always been that way, as we see in today’s Scripture reading. Even in the first century, there were those embarrassed by Jesus. 

Part 1: Hometown jealously

       Let’s look in detail at today’s text. We’re told that after the healings we read about last week, Jesus headed home. Here, Mark doesn’t identify the town as Nazareth, but Mark had already identified Jesus’ hometown as such,[5] so we can safely assume he’s talking about Nazareth. But this isn’t a story about Jesus coming home from his travels, with a bag of dirty laundry as if he’s returning from college. He’s not just returning to hang out with the guys. Jesus returns with disciples. He’s returning with status, for a rabbi who had disciples was considered important. And Jesus has a dozen of them. Furthermore, Jesus’ reputation precedes him. Folks at home have heard about his teachings and healings. 

       Of course, to the hometown folk, this raises questions. What’s up with Jesus? How did he become so popular? Who gave him such wisdom? After all, think about this from their point of view. The last time they saw him, Jesus had calloused hands from sawing wood. Now those same hands are healing the sick. We can see jealous brewing, can’t we? This is a local boy who’s done good.

Instead of celebrating Jesus’ homecoming, the people of the town make fun of him. We see this when they refer to Jesus as the son of Mary… without a mention of Joseph. Is this because word got around that Joseph wasn’t Jesus’ real father? Or, is this a way to put down Jesus? Leaving out his father and only mentioning his mom and siblings was a put down. They want to make Jesus look bad. Normally a man is referred to as “son of,” but not here. The hometown crowd tries to discredit Jesus.[6]

       Jesus, catches wind of their thinking and responds, saying prophets aren’t honored in their hometown. Surprisingly, we’re told Jesus could do no great deeds there, but that he did heal a few sick people. But there was no big miracle. Some of the folks may have expect a grand miracle but did not believe. From what is said here, it appears that without belief, there will be no miracle.  We’re told their disbelief surprises even Jesus. 

Part 2: Sending out the 12

       So, Jesus leaves his hometown and continues teaching. But now, he expands his ministry by sending out the disciples two by two. 

       The Gospel of Mark begins on a high note. Jesus comes on the scene proclaiming the good news of God and saying, “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent and believe the good news.”[7] With such a beginning, we expect great things to follow. But when Jesus reveals his strategy for bringing about his message, for creating his church, he looks to twelve ordinary men. These disciples are as flawed as any of us. We observe their failures repeatedly in the gospels, yet they’re the ones God chose to lay the foundation for his kingdom. 

       Perhaps a parallel could be drawn from the founding of Jesus’ movement with the founding of our country.[8] We have not always lived up to the ideals of Declaration of Independence, and the idea that all people are created equal remains as a goal to which we’re still striving to reach. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a noble goal. In 1776, it meant the farmer and the miller were just as endowed as the professor and preacher.[9] In the first century, Jesus’ embrace of ordinary folks meant that fisherman and tax collectors were equal and both capable of being at the forefront of a movement that claimed his name.   

       This unassuming group was sent out almost bare handed. They took a walking stick and wore sandals. They also wore the clothes on their back, but nothing more. No clean clothes to wear after a dusty day on the trail. No wrap to sleep in at night. Nor did they have a hidden stash of money in their belts. And they took no food. These guys aren’t equipped for a campaign. Yet, that’s their assignment. They pick up the teaching and the work of Jesus and to multiple it, six-fold. They learned how to depend on the generosity of those they met on the road and to trust God. 

Summary

    So, what should we learn from out text for today? There are at least two things we should take away from this text. First, we shouldn’t be jealous of the accomplishments of others, especially when God is the source of their power. Unlike the folks of Nazareth, we should rejoice when we see God’s work being done. 

Secondly, we need to realize we’re the heirs of the disciples. We’re the next generation, and like all generations before us, we have a responsibility to take Jesus’ message to the world. And to do that, we don’t need anything fancy. We depend on God, and we tell people what we know is true. And if we can do that, with the blessing of the Holy Spirit, the church will continue. For ultimately, it doesn’t depend on us, but on God. 

Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever.[10] Amen. 

[1] From a tweet by Jessica Hooter Wilson (@Hooter) on Thursday

[2] @eric-clapp.  See https://twitter.com/eric_clapp/status/1410213618721951744

[3] For summary see: https://twitter.com/joshswu/status/1411110436498509829/photo/1  Poll done by Joshua Wu, PhD. He used this data for his summary: https://www.voterstudygroup.org/publication/nationscape-data-set. Wu is a Christian and says this: “I’m thankful for the liberties/privileges of being an American, but unquestionably value my faith more than my nationality.”

[4] Of course, we always revolt against Jesus our King—it’s called sin. 

[5] See Mark 1:9.

[6] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (London: A. C. Black, 1990), 154. 

[7] Mark 1:14-15. 

[8] For this idea, I am drawing on a sermon on this text by William H. Willimon, “The Founding of the Church.”  See https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Will-Willimon-6th-Sunday-after-Pentecost-7-4-2021.pdf  

[9] Of course, it left out African slaves and Native Americans. 

[10] 1 Timothy 1:17

Posted on

Who receives the credit for these two healings?

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
June 27, 2021
Mark 5:21-43

Thoughts at the Beginning of Worship

Let’s me share with you a quote I came across this week from Doris Haddock. She went by the name Granny D. In 2000, at the age of 90, she walked across America. It took her a year as she made her way from Los Angeles to Washington, DC. Let her be a reminder that age is no excuse for inactivity. Anyway, here’s what she wrote: 

Most people are worth knowing if you will take time to understand them. Unfamiliarity with other people, ignorance of other people, is what makes war possible and violence possible, and it drives all the social divisions in a school or in a town, nation, or world. When you understand people well enough, you can’t help but love them, even if you hate them too. If you think those are incompatible emotions, I remind you to think about your relationship with almost any close family member. Understanding people is indeed loving them.[1]

In our text for today, we’re going to see Jesus’ compassionate side. When word spread around that he was able to bring about healing, people lined up to meet him. But even when busy, Jesus takes time to be with people. While he brings healing, he encourages people to have faith and to care for others. We’re called to the same ministry. Our passage is from Mark 5, verses 21-43. 

READ Mark 5:21-43

After the Scripture reading:

Have you ever had a dream in which there was something in which you needed to do, something you were committed to do, but obstacles kept getting in your way? You feel caught in a Kafkaesque story, unable to escape and unable to do what needs to be done?

Or maybe you have had such happen to you in real life. You agree to meet a friend at a specific time and set out with plenty of time to spare. Along the way, problems appear: an accident, a traffic jam, you get lost, or come upon someone in need and stop to help. 

Delayed by Sheep

I know I mentioned in one my newsletters an experience I had in Idaho. This was when I was in seminary and running a camp out there. Scheduled to speak at First Presbyterian in Twin Falls, I had a 90-mile journey from the camp I was directing in the Sawtooth Mountains. I allowed an extra hour but did not realize that this was the morning they brought all the sheep through the town of Ketchum, taking them to their summer pasture in the mountains. 

I was blocked by 100s of thousands of sheep. In those pre-cell phone days, I was frantic. When I finally got through the beasts, I drove at a high speed through the lava flows. I arrived, before I was up to speak, but 10 minutes after the service began.  

Whether in dreams or in real life, I’m sure most of us have had similar situations in our lives. We feel strongly about doing one thing and something intervenes. And I think Jesus knew this kind of feeling as we see in our reading this morning. 

Sandwich stories

Mark is famous for his “sandwich” stories.[2] Such stories involve Jesus talking about something and interrupted. The plot seems to move away from where it was heading. This allows time for things to happen as tension builds. Today’s story is an example. 

Jairus and daughter

Jairus, a father, who appears to be a rabbi in a synagogue, appeals to Jesus to help his daughter. Jesus goes with Jairus to take care of the sick girl. 

But there’s a crowd. A first century traffic jam. They must push themselves through the masses as they try to make it to Jairus house before it’s too late. Or maybe the masses are following Jesus, wanting to see a miracle. But the crowd is holding up Jairus and Jesus. Can’t they see the two have important work to do? Of course, this was in the days before flashing lights and sirens could clear a path. 

Intervention: a woman’s sickness

Our story shifts as Mark tells us about a woman who had been suffering with a bleeding issue for 12 years, the same number of years that Jairus has celebrated and felt blessed by his daughter. For this sick woman, the years were hard. She poured her resources into getting well, and now was penniless and hopeless. 

Differences in how they approach Jesus

Notice that Jairus, who had resources, approaches Jesus straight on. He knows his position in society. This woman approaches Jesus from behind. Without any hope left in the medical community, her only chance is for Jesus to heal her. If she could touch his clothes.[3]

There is a bit of superstition in her wish, as if the power is in Jesus’ clothes.[4] That’s not where there is power, the power is in Jesus, as God. 

This unnamed woman pushes through the crowd and reaches out and touches the hem of Jesus’ garment. The picture that we have is of a thick crowd, which begs the question of how Jesus even knew that a particular woman had touched him. The disciples want to know, but Jesus knew as he felt his healing power enter the woman.

We can imagine what Jairus must have been thinking as this interruption delays Jesus. 

When the woman healed identifies herself; Jesus displays kindness and maintain her dignity. He doesn’t say, “I made you well.” Had he done that, which would have been within his right, it would have focused her healing on him. Instead, this is about her needs. Jesus credits her own faith for bringing her healing. 

Back to the original problem

Now, after the delay, we’re back to our original issue, Jairus’ daughter. But before they resume their trip, they’re met by those from Jairus’ home who tell him that she died. Jairus’ heart must have dropped as they tell him not to bother Jesus anymore. But Jesus encourages Jairus to continue to believe as he gathers his inner circle—Peter, James, and John. They head to Jairus’ house. 

Different settings

The unknown and penniless woman is healed in public. Jairus’ daughter is dealt with in a more private setting, just a few disciples and family members.

The commotion at Jairus’ house

When they arrive at the house, they see the ladies’ guild has swung into action. Casseroles are coming in as they cry and make a fuss over the girl and her grieving mother. Some of those who gather may have been paid mourners. They go wherever there is a death. They’re making a commotion but are they really grieving. For when Jesus says she’s only sleeping, they stop wailing and start laughing.[5]

Mark’s humor

I hope you catch the subtle humor here. Mark’s story is funny. All these grieving women, including the professional grievers, are unable to wake up the girl. And then Jesus comes in. I image him gently taking her hand and quietly, as the commotion continues outdoors, telling her in a soft voice to get up. She does. Jesus’ voice is heard over against the ruckus going on around the girl.

Then Jesus asks that they keep this resurrection quiet, but that they do need to get the girl something to eat. Jesus takes care of her needs. We’re not told what happens, but I bet the father jumps into action. He might have even dug out desert for her to eat in celebration.

Jesus doesn’t claim credit

These two stories mingle together. A woman regains her health, and a daughter is restored to her father. Good work, Jesus. But Jesus doesn’t claim credits. He credits their faith. Not only do they experience grace, but they also maintain their dignity. That’s the way it is with Jesus. And we should follow suit. After all, when we don’t care who gets the credit, great things can happen.

If Jesus intervenes in our lives, and as God he is free to intervene and reward, we should be grateful. And until then, we should have faith in the one who has power to heal, power even over creation. Amen. 

[1]Granny D., Walking Across America in my Ninetieth Year.  Quote from:  https://www.plough.com/en/subscriptions/daily-dig/odd/june/daily-dig-for-june-20   

[2] Two other examples: Mark 3:21-35 and 11:12-25. See Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (London: A&C Black, 1991), 147. 

[3] See https://pres-outlook.org/2021/06/5th-sunday-after-pentecost-july-27-2021/

[4] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974) 192-193.

[5] Lane, 196-197.

Posted on

A Proper Goodbye

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, June 19, 2021

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
June 20, 2021
Hebrews 13:18-25

I am sorry for the format issues in the bottom half of the sermon. I’m not sure what happened, and I have to now get ready to head to church! At least you can still read the text.

Setting the stage: At the opening of Worship

In a tweet this week, Pastor Timothy Keller wrote, “The gospel is neither religion nor irreligion, but something else entirely – a third way of relating to God through grace.”[1] I like that. It sounds a lot like what we have heard repeatedly as we have worked through the Book of Hebrews. The message of Hebrews was directed to a people who long to have rules to follow. They prefer the structure of their old faith rather than the graceful freedom offered in Jesus Christ. 

Today, we’re at the end of Hebrews. There are just a few items to clean up, some business to take care of before the author puts away his pen. Like us, he wants to make a good impression. Like us, he wants to say what’s important as he says goodbye. 

Saying what’s important, especially when saying goodbye, is a good message for Father’s Day. 

Read Hebrews 13:18-25

After the reading of Scripture:

We’re at the end. Not of history, at least I don’t think, but at the end of our work through Hebrews. We started this journey in January and since then, except for a break around Easter, have be enmeshed in this book. Are you ready for a new topic? I am. After all, this is my 21st sermon on the book. Today, we’re looking at endings. How do we say goodbye? 

Preparation for a trip

I think it was a Far Side comic. An ambulance delivers to the emergency room a patient from an accident. The doctor does a quick check, and then looks up to the nurses while shaking his head. “Dirty underwear, dirty socks, he’s hopeless. Who’s next?” The title below the drawing said something like, “Every Mother’s Nightmares? 

Was your mother that way? Did she make you wear clean clothes when traveling? Not only did mine do that, we had to leave a clean room behind. As bad as an accident might be, it would be horrible for someone else to have to clean up your mess. 

Thinking first about others

While there is humor in such situations, in the defense of mom’s everywhere (on this Father’s Day), such ideas are rooted in thinking about other people. That’s to be celebrated. It’s not a bad thing to leave a good impression, whatever it is we’re doing. 

Letters and Texts

Back in the day when people wrote letters by hand, which were sent through the Postal Service with an envelope and stamp and all, there was a particular form to follow. Most often, you ended the letter upbeat, hopeful, or at least invoking a blessing on the reader. 

Today, with character limits on text, few people even bother placing their name at the end. This creates a problem if the receiver of that text doesn’t have your name in their address book. If you receive such text, you only have a phone number to go by. You must either figure out who sent it (and what they’re talking about) or, at the risk of offended the sender, ask, “Who’s this?” 

I long for the good old days when we signed letters “sincerely,” and then included our name. It seems the courteous thing for us to do. Leave a good impression. After all, we have no control of the future. Instead of letting things hang, we should say our goodbyes in a way that if anything happened to us, we wouldn’t regret it. 

So, we kiss our loved ones when they, or we, set off on a trip. We tell family members we love them. We tell our friends how much we appreciate them. Proper goodbyes express our care. It’s the right thing to do. 

An American Requiem

An American Requiem: God, My Father, and the War that Came Between Us is a wonderful family memoir by James Carroll. The book also warns us on how not to say goodbye. I first read this book twenty years ago and sadly lent it out and couldn’t find it this week, but I remember much of the story. 
 
Carroll’s father planned on becoming a Catholic priest, but instead married and became involved in the early days of the FBI. He rose in the organization. He became J. Edgar Hoover’s right-hand man. When the Air Force was created after World War Two, he was chosen to head security. He went directly from being a civilian to receiving the stars of a general. Carroll grew up in Germany and Washington, DC, in a privileged household. Because of his father’s connections, he met Elvis Presley in Germany and dated one of Lyndon Johnson’s daughters. 
 
Assuming his father’s dream, Carroll enters the priesthood. This was the mid-60s, the era of Civil Rights and Vietnam. His father, at this point in his career, ran the bombing of North Vietnam. While in seminary, Carroll came under the influence of the Berrigan brothers, remember them? One of the two preached his ordination sermon. 
 
You can image how proud his dad was that his son was going to be a priest. After all, he’d felt the call but failed to follow it. His father invited all his friends. Sitting in the congregation that day were lots of generals and admirals. In addition, there were politicians, from the highest levels of government. And, in the pulpit, was an anti-war priest, who didn’t hold back words. His ordination was a disaster. For years afterwards, Carroll never talked to his dad. 
 
Then his father started to lose grip on things. It got so bad he was quietly retired from the Air Force. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. In his father’s remaining years, Carroll, left the priesthood, married, and had children. He tried to reach out to his dad. He realized he’d made a mistake, that he didn’t really understand his father, and that he embarrassed him. Sadly, his father no longer remembered or cared about what had happened. As his brain faded, there was no way to bring about reconciliation.
 
One reviewer of this book referred to it as Carroll’s benediction on his dad’s life. What he couldn’t do in person, he put on paper. 

 

Good endings are important

While it is not always possible, there’s something nice about good endings. And that’s what happens at the end of Hebrews. While I have insisted Hebrews is more like a sermon than a letter, the ending of the book takes on a letter format. The author, like someone writing a letter, wants to end on a positive note. He attempts to capture the hope of their relationship in Christ, and to close with one final summary of the gospel.

 

Our Hebrew Text

He starts by pleading for them to also help him and his community. Throughout this letter, he’s encouraged his readers and listeners to remain faithful. Now he enlists their help. We need the prayers and support of others. I need you to pray for me. We all need others to pray for us. Whatever you take from this sermon, remember to pray for me and for one another. It’s part of our commitment to one another as Christians. 
Next, he expresses the desire to visit his friends. He doesn’t make a promise that he will visit but expresses the hope it might work out. “God willing, I’m coming,” is another way of saying what he means. He knows he doesn’t control the future. 
From what we see, the author has a close relationship with this community. They know each other well. 
Then he offers a benediction which highlights what’s been said in this letter. He invokes the name of the God of peace who brought Jesus back from the death. Jesus, our shepherd, by whose blood we have an eternal convent and who offers us new life. Then there’s our part of this summary, living in God’s will, through Jesus Christ. 
This wonderful benediction captures so much of our Christian faith. Even if circumstances conspired against our author, so he died without visiting the recipients of his letter, he said what needed saying. He ends with a few more niceties. He gives them so news about Timothy. He says hi from those who are around him as he writes. That’s about it. As I’ve said, we have come to the end. 

Conclusion: 

How should we graciously say goodbye to those we love and for whom we care? We have an example here, at the end of Hebrews. If your dad is alive, be sure to tell him you love and appreciate him today. If there has been some strain on the relationship, try to work out. If you have children of your own, the same thing goes. 
In all our dealings with others: encourage graciously and with love. Amen. 

Happy Father’s Day! My dad fishing off Cape Lookout. December 2020

[1] https://twitter.com/timkellernyc/status/1405471032622845957?s=20

Posted on

Hebrews 13:7-17: Leadership

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
June 13, 2021
Hebrews 13:7-14

Recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, June 11, 2021

Thoughts at the Beginning of Worship

In preparation for today’s worship, I found myself rereading portions of Joseph Small’s wonderful book, Flawed Church, Faithful God. I like the title, for it accurately describes our situation. Toward the end of the book, he addresses the situation many churches find themselves in today: 

Churches in America today are anxious, not hopeful. The prospect of institutional decline leads to a frantic succession of vision statements, strategic plans, measurable objectives, and the displacement of outputs by outcomes, all dependent on the latest management trends. Hope in God’s way is replaced by reliance on the latest fads in management techniques accompanied by official expressions of optimism that sound eerily like whistles in the dark.[1]

While I agree with much of what Small says, I also think there has always been an anxious thread within the church. But such fears have more to do with our focus on what we are doing or can do and not enough focus on what God has done and is doing through Jesus Christ. We’re called to depend on the grace of Jesus Christ and him alone. And we need leaders who bring a message of grace to us, not ones who place more burden on our lives. 

Read Hebrews 13:7-17

After the Reading of Scripture:

We’re almost at the end of Hebrews. God willing, we’ll complete our journey through this book next Sunday. Our section today appears to focus on leadership. Our reading was bookended, in verses 7 and 17, with words concerning those in leadership over us. But there is so much more in this middle part of the 13th chapter. As we seen throughout this book, the author again circles around and brings back up topics he’s already covered. 

Earthly leaders are important. They’re identified here as those who told us about Jesus. Leaders have the awesome responsibility to care for the souls the believers under their watch. It’s a humbling position and my prayer often, when writing sermons, when I am going into a meeting, or a visit is that God will be glorified and that what I say and do will not build me up but help build Christ’s kingdom on earth. Being a leader in the church is humbling. You must be grounded in the Word and in prayer and know your own limitations and shortcomings. None of us are perfect, including myself. 

Jesus is our Ultimate Leader

The preacher of this letter to the Hebrews, after first encouraging his listeners to remember their leaders and learn from them by imitating their faith, turns to our ultimate leader, Jesus Christ. John’s gospel speaks of Christ as the good shepherd.[2] Hebrews devotes much of this letter to showing Jesus’ superiority to everyone and everything else. Earthly leaders will fail. Only Jesus is faithful day in and day out. He is the same, we’re told, yesterday, today, and tomorrow. 

While we’re to be concerned and responsible to our leaders, the preacher who lifts Christ up every chance he has, encourages his listeners to remain faithful to the Savior. Undoubtedly, there were some leaders at the time this letter was written, who preached some weird ideas of their own. God’s grace is the foundation of our salvation, we’re told, not obeying a bunch of rules and regulations concerning food and sacrifices. Verse 10 contains a terrible truth. Those who teach otherwise are not invited into the real altar, or we might say the perfect sanctuary where the perfect sacrifice, Jesus Christ, was made.[3]

Leaving the Old Behind

The author seems intent on us understanding that we’re leaving behind the old. Like Jesus, we’re to leave the city, which represents the old ways. Jesus suffered and died outside the city, and we are to be willing to join him and endure abuse, too. We know that the present is temporary. This world will pass away. We’re to wait and hope for this new city. While we wait with hope, we continue to praise God. For we know that God working things out.  

While we have a perfect sacrifice in Jesus Christ, we’re to sacrifice ourselves for the good of others. The preacher continues, remining us to do good and to share what we have with those who are in need. 

Role of the Church and Its Leaders

Our hope is in Jesus Christ, but this does not mean that the church is not important, nor does it mean that there is nothing more for us to do. Through the church, we learn of God’s grace through Jesus Christ. And through our lives and sacrifices, others may come to know the good news of Jesus as they see us life in a graceful manner. 

This passage concludes with a second reminder of the role of Christian leadership. The author informs his readers that leaders are also held accountable. Then he concludes with a hope they can do their work with joy and not sighing. If they can do their work with joy, it will be better for everyone. Hebrews is aware that not all the work of leadership is easy or joyful. Sometimes leaders must make tough decisions or give counsel that others may find offensive. But it’s part of the job.

A Story about Learning Leadership

As a new pastor, I remember early on being visited by a guy whose wife and children attended my church. I hadn’t even had the chance to meet them when he stopped by this afternoon. This was before my first Sunday, and this visit made me question just what I was getting myself into. 

This man had concerns. His wife was leaving him. He wanted me to tell her, offering scripture for me to quote, that she was to obey and submit to him. While he had a few selected verses to back up his ideas, he seemed to miss the point of scripture. This became apparent as I asked him a few questions. 

Gradually, in our conversation, it came out that he felt it was his right to come home after a hard day’s work and drink a six-pack and smoke a few joints. He admitted to doing this every evening. He even admitted that when she confronted him with his behavior, he sometimes became violent. Without even hearing her side of the story, I was glad she was making a break. As their children aged—they were at this time an infant and a toddler—I knew this situation would not get any better.  “I think I’m on her side,” I told him. 

“You’re not going to help me,” he asked? He then questioned my faith and my commitment to scripture. 

I told him that I would help him if he was first willing to work on his own issues. Furthermore, I told him, I certainly wasn’t going to suggest his wife and their kids remain in such a setting until he got his act together. He didn’t want to hear that. He cussed me and left. 

Leadership is Tough

Leaders, responsible for the souls of others, often find themselves in a difficult situation. We are not here to agree and to support whatever people think is right. Being faithful to the gospel means there are times we must challenge people in order that they might do what is right for them, for their families, and for God. Not everybody wants to hear that. 

Leaders Need Your Help

Speaking on the behalf of leaders (and in the Presbyterian system, we have shared leadership between clergy and Elders), we do the best we can. But we need your help and your prayers, and I think that’s the message of this passage. None of us, except Jesus, are perfect. Yet God works through us. For that, we can be thankful and humble. Leaders are important, but our hope is not in ourselves, in our leaders and institutions. Our hope is in Jesus Christ, and him alone. Amen. 

As leaders, we never know what’s around the next bend

[1] Joseph D. Small, Flawed Church, Faithful God: A Reformed Ecclesiology for the Real World (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 187.

[2] John 10:1-18.

[3] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/03/hebrews-10-sacrifice/

Posted on

Christians Should be Outstanding Citizens

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
June 6, 2021
Hebrews 13:1-6

At the Beginning of Worship

       We gather on the first day of the week, on the day of resurrection, to worship. Why? What does it mean? Think about this in our time together. 

Today, we’re beginning our exploration of the last chapter in Hebrews. We have completed the heavy part of this book written to encourage those first century disciples who were considering abandoning their faith. The author pleads with them to continue following Jesus, making the case for the excellence of our Savior. 

Worship God with awe is our call at the end of the eleventh chapter. The author of this letter/sermon wants us to praise God, not just on Sunday mornings, but with our lives. In the 13th Chapter, the author offers practical suggestions as to the shape our lives should take. These guidelines form around the concept of mutual love and knowing that God is always with us and provides us with what we need.

Read Hebrews 13:1-6

After the Scripture Reading

A Definition of Worship

I asked you at the beginning of our time together this morning what it means to worship. In his wonderful little book, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, Frederick Buechner describes worship like this: “To worship God means to serve him.” He goes on to say there are two ways in which we do this. One is to do things for God. “We run errands, carry messages, fight for what’s right, feed his lambs and so forth. The other is to do that which we need to do for ourselves. Sing praises, tell God what’s in our minds and on our hearts (we call that prayer), and to make fools of ourselves in the way lovers have always made fools of themselves for the one they love.”[1]

Our reading today follows the advice we were provided at the end of the Hebrews 12. There, the author/preacher of this book, calls on his listeners to give thanks as we worship God with reverence and awe. We are well familiar with worship as a gathering in a sanctuary or perhaps even family worship around a dining room table. But we often forget that we’re to live lives of worship. How might we do this? Today’s reading lists several suggestions to set us out in the right direction. 

Bookend concept: Philadelphia

       These suggestions are bookended with two overseeing concepts. The first is Philadelphia, not the city but the original meaning of the word which is brotherly love. We can also translate this as mutual love. We can’t limit such love just to our male siblings Love is the over-all trait of a Christian. We sometimes sing, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.” Love becomes our identity. Paul reminds us that love never fails. Love, along with faith and hope, remain forever. But love is the greatest of these.[2]

Bookend Concept: God’s Presence

The second concept, that bookends the other side of this advice, is the notion that God will be with us. God is always present. God’s providence provides for our needs. Of course, this does not mean that just because God is with us, everything will go the way we want it to. That’s not the case and our author knew it, as we see in a passage.

Knowing God is with us means we have no reason to be afraid. After all, our reading ended, “what can anyone do to us?” This doesn’t mean we won’t have hardship. Our reading makes it clear there are those in prison and who are being tortured. Jesus said a similar thing when he told the crowds not to fear those who can kill the body but fear the one who can destroy both the body and the soul.[3] The eleventh chapter of Hebrews ends with a final explanation point: “Our God is a consuming fire.” Obviously, our author understands God’s power, as well as God’s mercy as shown in Jesus Christ. 

The Call to Show Hospitality

So, what is it that we’re called to do based on our mutual love and our belief in God? First, we’re to show hospitality to strangers. Doing this, we’re told, some have entertained angels. What are our experiences with strangers? In the ancient world, hospitality to those you did not know was chief virtue. Even pagans understood this. Stories of Zeus dressed as a beggar, and then rewarding those who, without knowing him, provides help, existed. 

In the ancient world, people often took advantage of strangers.[4]There were few inns, and those that existed often were not places one wanted to find themselves. Hospitality was important. Several times in Hebrews, we’ve looked back at Abraham. He showed hospitality to the stranger.[5] Even today, in the Biblical lands, it is important that one receive guests in an honorable manner. 

In the summer before I entered seminary, I spent much of my time off hiking portions of the Appalachian Trail in the South that I had not yet hiked.[6] One such hike was from Bastian, Virginia (where 1-77 crosses the trail) to Pearisburg, Virginia. My second afternoon on the trail, this was a three-day trip, I met a couple who had just moved to the area. They invited me to stay in their barn, which they wanted to make available to hikers. They also invited me for breakfast. We had a wonderful time talking, and they were excited to learn I would soon be entering seminary. They were also Presbyterians and were heading off to church as I headed back onto the trail. They added facilities for hikers and for many years, their barn was a welcome respite along the trail. Not that I was one, but I wonder how many angels they encountered? 

While it is important for us to show hospitality to those we know, the litmus test for Christian hospitality is how we treat those we do not know. Even Jesus acknowledged that greeting a friend isn’t anything to brag about. “Even the Gentiles do that,” he said.[7]

Empathy to Those in Jail and Being Tortured

       We’re also to extend our hospitality to the less fortunate, including those in prison and jail. Often when someone is sent away, they are forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, but that excuse can’t be used by Christians. Here, as well as in the 25th Chapter of Matthew, we’re reminded of the importance of reaching out to those in jail. In Matthew, we’re told that such efforts are akin to comforting Christ.[8]  

Furthermore, we’re to have empathy for those who are tortured. The preacher may be thinking of Christians, who during times of persecution, faced torture. But I don’t think he’s only thinking of Christians. He does not distinguish between believers and not, only between the unfortunate who are tortured and those who are not. 

Torture as a practice was regularly employed in the ancient world. That doesn’t make it right. We should have empathy for those who are inflicted with such pain. The Message translation captures the idea of empathy when he says, “Look to victims of abuse as if what happened to them happened to you.” 

Whether torture is legally carried out by government or at the hand of rogue individuals, Christians should be outraged. Everyone deserves respect. After all, a foundational principle of our faith is that we’ve all created in God’s image. We have an obligation to speak up when someone abuses someone else.

Marriage Fidelity and Avoiding Greed

Our last two entreaties involve two ideas we might pull apart. But they go together. One deals with marriage and adultery. The other focuses on greed and a desire to have more. In our world, we separate these ideas. After all, adultery is the seventh commandment and coveting the tenth. But these ideas are united by the language in this text. Furthermore, in the ancient world, they were not seen as separate concept.[9] Both were considered an inability to control one’s appetite. We’re to be content and thankful with what we have. Our obsessions, whether sexual or material, can get us in trouble. 

Christians as Outstanding Citizens

The ethical call of Hebrews is that Christians should be seen not just by other Christians, but all people, as outstanding citizens within the community. We’re to be contented with ourselves, to have good hearts, to welcome the stranger and to look out for those who are not able to help themselves. How are we doing? 

Let’s be Known for our Love

You know, when those outside the church see those of us inside it living in fear over the loss of power and prestige, fighting with one another and the world, and concern only for ourselves and our ideas, we provide them no compiling reason to join us. But if they would see the type of Christian raised up here at the beginning of the 13th Chapter of Hebrews, they will be intrigued. They may or may not join us. Ultimately, that’s God’s call. But they will know we are Christians. How? By our love. Amen.

Good morning from the Blue Ridge. This was my view at 6 AM this morning!

[1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), 97-98.

[2] 1 Corinthians 13:13. In this chapter, Paul uses the “Agape” form for love (the love God has for us, the type of love that looks out for the best in the other) and not the “Philos” form used here. While they have slightly different means, they are still close in meaning and both are translated as love. 

[3] Luke 12:4-5.

[4] F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1964), 389.

[5] See Genesis 18.

[6] From 1983-1986, I hiked the southern portion of the trail from Springer Mountain, Georgia to the Shenandoah Mountains in Northern Virginia. The summer of 1987, I completed the trail, hiking from the Shenandoah’s to Mt. Katahdin in Maine. 

[7] Matthew 5:47.

[8] Matthew 25:36.

[9] Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 2006), 341-342.

Posted on

A Better Way to the Summit: Hebrews 12:14-29

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
May 23, 2021
Hebrews 12:14-29

Sermon recorded on May 21, 2021 at Mayberry Church

Introduction at the Beginning of Worship
Today is Pentecost. It’s a day to recall the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on those disciples who gathered in Jerusalem after Jesus’ ascension. We’re told in Acts that it appeared as if tongues of fire descended and filled the disciples.[1] God’s Spirit set them on fire for Jesus.  The use of fire in scripture is interesting. A fire can be warm and comforting. We enjoy gathering around a fireplace on a winter’s eve or at a campfire in the fall. But fires can also be terrifying and destructive as anyone who has witnessed a housefire or a forest fire will attest. 

Fire
Fire is also associated with God. Moses encountered God at the Burning Bush.[2] God led the Israelites out of Egypt by a Pillar of Cloud and Fire.[3] And on Pentecost, God Spirit descended as fire.

Two Candles and Two Flames
Do you know why most Presbyterian Churches have two candles in the front of the sanctuary, generally on the Communion Table? Or why do two flames appear beside the cross on the Presbyterian seal? The flames represent the Old and New Covenant, the flames from which God called Moses and the flames which appeared on Pentecost. Fire can be uncontrollable and somewhat mysterious, which makes it a good symbol for God. 

Two Options for Approaching God
Sooner or later, all of us will be called before God. Today I want you to think about this question. When our time comes, how do we approach the Almighty? As we continue to work through Hebrews, we’ll see there’s two different paths. One is via Sinai, which is a frightful trail to take. It’s like climbing an active volcano. It’s the way of fire. The law is hard and failure to keep it results in harsh consequences. 

Jesus lays out the other path. This path leads us to Zion. It’s the city of God, where, we’re told in Revelation, God personally wipes away our tears.[4]

The author of Hebrews wants us to stick with Jesus! His is the more excellent way.

Read Hebrews 12:14-29

After reading the Scripture
I’m going to take you on another hike, today.[5] In 1995, I did the first of three hikes to complete the John Muir Trail in the Sierra Nevada mountains of California. The trail begins at the top of Mount Whitney. It’s the highest point in the continental United States and ends in Yosemite Valley. In the 200 and some miles of trail, a good portion is above tree line. The views are incredible. 

Entering the Sierras
Starting the trail at Whitney means you have an extensive hike and climb to reach the top. Eric and I approached Mount Whitney from the west slope, but we started on the eastern side of the Sierras. Rugged, remote, and somewhat barren describes the eastern slope of the Sierras. We reached the heart of the Sierras through New Army Pass. This involved a terrifying climb. The trail disappeared behind a 100 or so feet wall of snow and ice. We kicked toeholds to climb to the top and pulled out packs up with rope. 

Before we reached solid ground, we had to work our way through the snow that had corniced along the top of the ridge. This created a lip that jutted out from the edge. Somehow, we safely made it to the top. 

The Climb Up the West Side of Mount Whitney
After New Army pass, we picked up the Pacific Crest Trail and hiked north to Crabtree Meadows. This broad plain is just 7 ½ miles and 4,500 feet below Whitney. The next morning, at daybreak, we set out. 

In the summer, on big mountains like this, it’s good to make it to the top early in the day. You never know when you must make a quick retreat in the afternoon as thunderstorms build. The first few miles were gradual, as we made our way around Guitar and Hitchcock Lakes. Then the trail became extremely steep. Soon, frozen snow covered the trail. I put crampons on my boots which provided much needed stability on the icy snow. 

After two hours of climbing, we were at the “Keyhole,” a notch to the south of Whitney, where the trail from the east and the west sides of the mountain join. From there, supposedly, it’s an easy 2 miles to the top. We’d done much of the climbing and only had 700 feet more gain to reach the summit. However, that few things are easy at 14,000 feet. Without conditioning to the elevation, you must go slow, or you’ll be gasping for breath.  

Reaching the Summit
We were at Whitney’s summit in time for lunch. The local rodent population came out to join us. I admit, we felt pretty good about ourselves as we ate, and the rodents begged. Just 20 or so feet to the east of where we sat, the mountain dropped straight off. We could see US 395, which looked like a thread running through Owen’s Valley. Straight out from us rose the Panamint and Amargosa Ranges, which surround Death Valley. We could even see beyond them, and on into Central Nevada. 

Others began to gather as they made their way up to summit as we ate and enjoyed this view. We were all in a celebrative mood, having conquered the mountain. And then it happened. 

Surprise Visitors
I saw the oddest thing. Someone’s head popped up over the edge. Where did he come from, I thought to myself? He pulled himself up on the top, then set out to belay another climber. While few people would call what we did that morning easy, we were in awe. This was nearly impossible.[6]

This couple climbed that morning, a thousand feet or so, vertically. Each carried a rack heavy with hardware: pitons, chocks and other anchoring devices, carabiners, slings, an ice axe, and hundreds of feet of rope. They were serious and had the equipment to help them climb and belay the other on this multi-pitch climb. 

Two Ways to the Summit
Think about these two ways to reach the summit. I’m going to tie it back into our passage this morning. Their experience and our experience, on the same mountain, were drastically different. 

Two Mountains: Sinai and Zion
In the last half of the 12th Chapter of Hebrews, we’re told of two mountains: Sinai and Zion.  There’s quite a contrast between the two. 

Sinai is scary.[7] It’s a place of fear. Even Moses, after all he has seen and done, fears the mountain upon which God gave Israel the law. And why not, this was a mountain to avoid unless God summoned someone up. Even animals were forbidden from approaching the mountain and those who did graze on its slopes were to be stoned. A holy mountain, precautions were taken to keep it sacred. 

But there’s another mountain, Zion. It’s the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, a place of merry angels where all who have been adopted by God joyfully reside. This is the home of Jesus, whose sacrifice enables us to enter this holy place. 

Are They the Same Mountain? 
But perhaps these are the same mountain, just different sides.[8] After all, the God of the Old and New Testaments is the same. The way up to the mountain on the Sinai route is impossible for most people. It’s kind of like the way those climbers summited Whitney. For the rest of us, there is a better way. To reach this summit, we have Jesus as a guide, the one whose blood is superior to Abel’s. He’s the one whose righteousness makes us perfect. 

Hope and Warning
While this passage presents hope to us, it is ultimately a warning not to reject the grace God shown us in his Son. We see this in both the opening and the closing paragraphs. 

The opening, verses 14-17, begins with the counsel for us get along with one another. We’re to root bitterness from our lives and to strive for holiness. How we live is important. The preacher pulls Esau as an example of what we’re not to become. Esau, if you remember, traded his birthright in for a bowl of soup. While it may have filled his stomach in the short-run, he regretted his decision in the long-run. But there was no way to go back. And, when our time is up, there will be way for us to go back. 

The closing paragraph, verses 25-29, frames the other side of the story of the two mountains. We’re reminded of the danger of rejecting Jesus’ offer along with a warning of impending judgment. All will be shaken, we’re told. I imagine a winnowing process, such as used by ancient farmers to separate the kernel of grain from the chaff.[9] Or, like a refining fire, where all impurities are burned away and only that which desirable remains.[10] Both images for God are Biblical, but because Jesus has already purified us, we are called give thanks and to worship God with reverence and awe. 

Follow Jesus, our Guide
Today, take the advice of the Preacher in Hebrews. Follow our guide, Jesus, to Zion, to the place we’ll find eternal rest. And along the way, seek peace with one another, avoid bitterness, and stay on the path blazed by our Savior. Sooner or later, we’ll all be called before God. Instead of going the Sinai route, Jesus’ way is the more excellent route to approach the Almighty. Let’s follow him! Amen.

[1] Acts 2:1-4.

[2] Exodus 3. 

[3] Exodus 13:21.

[4] Revelation 21:4.

[5] Last week, I talked about approaching Katahdin along the Appalachian Trail. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/05/keep-going-hebrews-121-13/

[6] Of course, this couple made the climb, but few could. However, Paul makes the case of how difficult it is to follow the law. See Romans 3:9-20. The only one who kept the law fully is Jesus. See Romans 5:18.

[7] The author of Hebrews doesn’t name Sinai, but the fearfulness of the holy mountain where Moses was given the law is described in verses 18-21. See the description of Sinai in Exodus 19:16-25.

[8] See Thomas G. Long, Hebrews (Louisville: KY: WJKP, 1997), 140.

[9] Jeremiah 15:7, Matthew 3:12, Luke 3:17.

[10] Malachi 3:2-3.

Posted on

Keep Going: Hebrews 12:1-13

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Churches
May 15, 2021
Hebrews 12:1-13

Sermon taped at Bluemont Church on Friday, May 13, 2021

Thoughts at the beginning of worship: 

We’re on a journey. It’s a familiar Christian metaphor that we’ve seen through our time in the Book of Hebrews. As Christians, we are not settlers on this earth, we’re pilgrims. We’re passing through, longing for the place God prepares. That doesn’t mean this world is all bad; after all God created the world good.[1] But it does mean that we don’t need to be too attached to the present. We must trust and have faith in what God is doing. 

Today, the preacher of this sermon known as the Book of Hebrews, steps up the pace. Instead of a journey like Abraham trotting through the desert, or the Israelites filing out of Egypt, we’re now called to run. The end is near and there’s Jesus and others cheering us on. It is not a time to stumble, not when we’re so close. 

In my Monday’s Bible study on this passage, Jerry Potter, who ran track in high school, said his coach used to always say, “Don’t stop until you’re beyond the tape.” Was he just talking about running, or is this a metaphor for life?  

Read Hebrews 12:1-13 in The Message translation. 

After reading Scripture

The night had been filled with storms. It felt good to have rain at night, when sleeping. It certainly beat walking in the rain. Nonetheless, I kept waking and checking for leaks in my tarp and watching the incredible lightning. This made me sluggish crawling out of my sleeping bag come morning. 

Fog hung over Cloud Pond Lake and in a distance, I could see a moose in knee-deep water, eating. Although the rain had stopped, water continued to drip off the leaves and the ground was soaked. I pulled on my boots and began the morning ritual. 

Morning on the Appalachian Trail

By this point in my hike on the Appalachian Trail, everything had been reduced to a ritual. I put on a pot of water to boil, while I stuff my sleeping bag and rolled by pad. When the water boiled, I fixed a big bowl of oatmeal mixed with powdered milk, nuts, dried fruit, and brown sugar. With the remaining water, I set a tea bag to steep. I then found myself a rock and sat. While eating, I made a few notes in my journal and read a Psalm or two. I was in no hurry to start hiking with everything wet, Yet the trail soon called. 

Seeing the distance goal

It was my second day out of Monson, Maine. I headed deep into the 120-mile wilderness, a section of the Appalachian Trail in which there are no public roads. The next such road is at the base of Mount Katahdin where the trail ends. When I shouldered my pack, the cool air encouraged me to go faster. I climbed Chairback Mountain, making it across the various peaks. And on the fourth peak, I saw Katahdin, off in the distance. My summer of hiking the trail was coming to an end. I could see the goal. I celebrated with a large tootsie roll. 

Over the next day, Katahdin kept appearing. There it was on the peaks of Gulf Hogas Mountain and White Cap Mountain. I wanted to slow down, but at times felt an invisible hand push me forward. Sometimes the feeling was so real, as if someone was pushing against my back. I would turn around, but no one was there. 

I mused in my journal if it was God providing the strength I’d prayed for, to finish the trail. But as I was getting closer, I now wanted to go on forever. I wanted to savor every moment. 

Katahdin from Daisy Lake (taken on August 29, 1987)

The mornings were cold, sometimes below freezing, but by the afternoon, things would warm up and we’d often take a swim in one of the numerous lakes. I pulled a 23-mile day but was sad when I realized it would be the last of my 20-mile days. The days, along with the miles, were getting shorter. Several of us planned to climb Katahdin on August 30. There was no need to rush. 

Lakes block our way

Then the lakes appear. There were no more mountains, just hills, until the end which was on the summit of Katahdin. It seemed we just had lakes to walk around. Katahdin could regularly be seen from the southern shores. The lakes blocked our way to the mountain. We’d travel east or west, around the lake, to its mouth or headwaters, where we’d cross a small stream on a log to get to the other side. A few miles later, as we approached another lake, there would be Katahdin, again. It didn’t look much closer. With the trail running mostly running parallel, back and forth, we were forced to endure a slow approach. 

Hebrews and the Appalachian Trail

As I think back over our journey through the book of Hebrews, I feel a little like I was on the Appalachian Trail back in 1987. Throughout Hebrews, we’ve been invited to journey with others. Whether Abraham or Moses, or the Israelites, movement is a part of life. We’re called to something better. Something pulls us forward. Jesus Christ is like a magnet, drawing us onward. 

Jesus is superior to everything

The preacher of this sermon known as Hebrews has already pointed out Jesus as superior to everything. He tops angels and Moses and the Chief Priest. His sacrifice supersedes all other sacrifices and renders them obsolete. For Hebrews, everything comes back to Jesus. He is our goal, the one we are to follow, the one longed for by the people of faith in Israel, as we saw in the 11th Chapter. 

No longer just a journey, now a race

While the first 11 chapters of Hebrews is about a journey, the author shifts metaphors in the 12th. It’s no longer a leisurely walk, but a race, a marathon.[2] We’re taken into the sports arena where the fans are those who have completed the race. They form a cloud of witnesses, cheering us on, as we make our way toward the throne of God, toward our Savior, the one who perfects our faith. 

As I have said many times as we work our way through this book, the concern raised in Hebrews is that some have or are considering abandoning the faith.[3] The message in this passage is don’t give up. We’re so close. The discipline and the training we’ve endured have brought us to this point. Keep going… 

Those watching us includes Jesus

We’re reminded that Jesus, too, has run this race. He lived among us and suffered with and because of us. While he may have stumbled along the way to the cross,[4] he fulfilled his mission and is now at the right hand of God. We can almost envision the ancient coliseum in which the runners would complete their race. At the top, you had the king and his family. Here, we have God the Father and Jesus the son, watching in excitement as we run our race. 

Doesn’t that get to you, we’re being watched, by God and by those who have gone before us. Not just the ancient ones spoken of in chapter 11, but others from our own lives. Think of those who shared the faith with us and who encouraged us in this life. Maybe it’s our parents and grandparents. Maybe it’s a teacher or a youth leader. They want us to hang in there. They want us to remain faithful and finish the race. 

Discipline

In the middle part of our reading, starting with verse 4, it appears as if the author moves off the race image, but not really. He brings up our trials and troubles and reminds us that we’re not the first or the only one to face such trials. Some had even worse. Furthermore, there are times we may wonder about the discipline we’ve had to endure. 

Does God not like us, we question? But we’re reminded that if a parent doesn’t discipline a child, there is something wrong. The same is true with God.

Did you parents ever say right before a punishment, “This is going to hurt me more than you?” Discipline isn’t fun for either party, but Hebrews reminds us that it’s part of our training. If a runner lacks discipline, he probably lacks metals, too. We must learn right and wrong, what is good and beautiful along with what is bad and ugly. Furthermore, we are to learn what God has done for us. 

Telling the story as preparation

In the Old Testament, after the Exodus, Israel is repeatedly told to teach the story to their children. It was the purpose behind the Passover celebration. The same is true for our remembering of Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter. It’s all part of our training and preparation for the race of life.

The race to the top

The morning of August 30th came quickly. Having camped the previous night at the base of Mount Katahdin, I was up before dawn. I laced my boots over my sore feet. Even though calloused after months of hiking, those dogs still hurt.[5] I went through my routine one more time, firing up my stove in the as dawn broke. 

After breakfast, I started discarding that which I did not need in my pack. I had spent my last night on the trail; this night I would be in a hotel. Like a runner discarding anything that would him or her back, I shed all the weight I could. With a light pack, I hit the trail. Nothing could hold me back now. 

That’s the message of Hebrews. Keep going. Shed anything that holds you back. Keep moving closer and closer to Jesus. God is not some angry judge in the sky just waiting for the opportunity to smack us down. God, along with all the others, are cheering us on. Keep going. 

As Jerry Potter’s track coach used to tell him, “Don’t stop running until you are through the tape.” And, I will add, “keep your eyes on Jesus.”  Amen. 

[1] The world itself longs for renewal, Paul tells us in Romans 8:18-25. 

[2] Thomas Long, Hebrews (Louisville, KY: WJKP. ), 

[3] We first saw this concern in Hebrews 2:1-4. 

[4] The idea that Jesus stumbled comes from Simon of Cyrene being pressed to take Jesus’ cross. See Matthew 27:32, Mark 15:21, Luke 23:26.

[5] Dogs were trail slang for feet.