Faithfulness: Inside

Faithfulness: Inside

God Doesn’t Regard the Outside

1 Samuel 15:34-16:13
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. June 13th, 2021

Saul was the first King of Israel, and he was everything the people of Israel would have wanted. We are told Saul was, “a handsome young man. There was not a man among the people of Israel more handsome than he; he stood head and shoulders above everyone else.” Samuel said of Saul, “there is no one like him among all the people.” Saul was not only tall and handsome, but he was a ferocious warrior and great leader. One of his first acts as King was to draw the people together and defeat the Ammonites who had oppressed the tribe of Gad and Reuben. When the Spirit of the Lord was upon him he routed their armies in a single day.

But Saul was also a flawed man. We are told one time he had waited for Samuel to arrive and offer sacrifice before battle. When he saw his soldiers slipping away, he took matters into his own hands and offered the sacrifice himself. Another time he had beat back the Amalekites but did not destroy all that the Lord had asked him to destroy, instead it seems he wished to keep it for himself. When Samuel confronts him he explains he wished to offer these things in sacrifice, but I don’t know if we can believe him. He is a King like Samuel had warned, he takes. 

We are told the Spirit of God left Saul, and left him to his own devices. While he remained King, commanded the armies of Israel, and had every appearance of being a mighty King, God no longer regarded him as King of his people. 

Samuel, as we might expect, takes this hard. Israel’s leadership was once in his hands, he handed it over to Saul. And now God has rejected Saul. What will become of Israel? But God tells him to stop grieving, for he has provided a new King for Israel, one of the sons of Jesse the Bethlehemite.

So Samuel heads to Bethlehem and claims he is there to offer sacrifice, so he can fly under the radar. Saul, being a King, would not appreciate someone else being anointed to take his job. These things need to be done discretely. 

When Jesse and his sons arrive Samuel looks at them and sees many prime candidates. Men tall and strong and handsome much like Saul. When he looks at Eliab, the eldest, he is certain this is the man God has provided to be King of Israel. But God tells him, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the LORD does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.”

Samuel sees the next youngest, Abinadab, and is certain that this man must be the one God has chosen. But again, God tells him he has not chosen Abinadab. And so it goes until Samuel is told God has chosen none of these sons. Samuel asks Jesse if all of his sons are here. "There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.”

Someone has to keep the sheep, might as well be the youngest. Samuel asks that this kid, David, be brought before him. He was ruddy, handsome, but young. Though he didn’t look it to Samuel, God looked upon his heart and chose him to be his King.

We’ll learn a little more next week why God chose David over all of his brothers. But it is enough to say today that God does not regard the outward as much as the inward when it comes to those he works through. Saul had every advantage. He was tall, strong, wealthy, and handsome. He was a leader of men. But what he lacked was faithfulness and humility. He took charge, and wanted to take matters into his own hands. He couldn’t leave matters in God’s hands. 

David was not as tall, dark, handsome, and strong as Saul. He was not, yet, the great leader of men. He was only fit, in his father’s eyes, to tend to the sheep. But God does not regard the outward appearance. He does not see as we see. God looks upon the heart. What is on David’s heart? I would suggest his faithfulness. He is willing to put things into God’s hands, as we will see. 

Ironically, God won’t do too much with the strong and powerful. God prefers to work with the faithful. You can have all the trappings of success and not get very far when it comes to the mission of God. But you can be filled with zeal and strong in faith and God will move mountains. 

One of the great American frontier preachers was a man by the name of Lorenzo Dow. I don’t know how may of us have heard of Lorenzo Dow, but at one point his autobiography was the second most purchased book in America after the Bible. He regarded himself as a Methodist, though he was a little too wild to become formally connected to us. He lived a life of poverty. He had long hair and a large beard, which he kept unkempt. The only clothing he owned was the clothing he kept on his back, and when it tore up he was dependent on others to buy him a replacement. He would show up in public spaces and at public events and shout that he would preach in this place a year hence. And always showed up. He had a unique style with lots of shouting, and hollering, and weeping, and insults. He was mesmerizing for his time, though he didn’t preach conventionally, probably because he was so unconventional.

He certainly did not look like the preacher of his day. He was not well regarded by the well to do. But he left a great influence in Britain and frontier America. He became a household name. Not because of the outward appearance, but because of the faithfulness within.

Jesus, too, did not look or act like a king. From the outward appearance I’m sure he was perfectly normal. He did not have any of the trappings of glory or pomp. But he remained faithful to all, and obedient to his Father. On account of his faithfulness, we have come to know salvation.

Don’t worry about the outward appearance. Don’t worry about whether you possess great gifts. Saul had all the talent in the world, but he lacked the faith. David had the faith. And he took down Goliath. All God looks for is faith. And through faith comes blessing.

Faithfulness: King

Faithfulness: King

God Remains Faithful

1 Samuel 8:4-11 -20, 11:14-15
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. June 6th, 2021

Paul tells us in Romans that we have been grafted into Israel, the unnatural branch into the natural tree. If we have been grafted into Israel then Israel’s story becomes our story. When we read the Old Testament we are not just reading what God did for Israel, we are reading how God worked through Israel for us. We learn more about the character of God, and the character of humanity. Most strikingly, we learn about the faithfulness of God even in the midst of our own faithlessness.

Through the course of the summer I am going to be focusing on the Old Testament readings. We will cover 1st and 2nd Samuel, the story of David. We will pick up that story with the people demanding a King so that they might be like the other nations. We will conclude with King Solomon dedicating the Temple at the height of Israel’s powers. There will be battles, intrigue, romance, murder, and betrayal. Through it all we will see God working through David and others, whether he works through their successes or their failures. Their good works or their horrific sins. Through it all we find humanity acting faithfully or unfaithfully. But God always acts faithfully. As Paul writes in 2 Timothy, “If we deny him, he will also deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful — for he cannot deny himself.” 

This morning the people of Israel are unfaithful, and yet God takes their unfaithfulness and will eventually use it for his own purpose. The people of Israel had never had a human King. Instead, they operated as independent tribes, occasionally ruled by a military leader called a Judge when needed. Samuel was that Judge. And Samuel was obedient to the true King of Israel: the Lord. Through Samuel God beat back their adversaries. But the people feared that Samuel’s sons were unfaithful, and so they wanted a King.

They wanted a King, they said, so that they could be like the other nations. You see, the other nations that surrounded them all had Kings who would fight their battles for them. They didn’t have to worry about finding a Judge, or coordinating the forces of their tribes. The King simply handled all military affairs so they could go about their business at home. The Kings of the nations won battles and brought glory and riches to their nations. Israel wanted to be like the other nations, they wanted the fame and fortune that can come with a King.

This displeased Samuel, but God reminded him the people were not rejecting Samuel. The people were rejecting the Lord. But the Lord was prepared to give them the King they asked for, as long as they understood what they were asking for. So Samuel told the people what a King would do, if they were to get one:

These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots; and he will appoint for himself commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and some to plow his ground and to reap his harvest, and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his courtiers. He will take one-tenth of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and his courtiers. He will take your male and female slaves, and the best of your cattle and donkeys, and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the LORD will not answer you in that day.

“He will take, he will take, he will take.” The Kings of the earth win their battles and earn their glory because the Kings of the earth are always taking. They are always taking the wealth of others. Whether that wealth be the wealth of the nations, or whether that wealth be a portion of the wealth of their own people. If the King of Israel will be like the Kings of the nations, he will take, and it will be oppressive and burdensome.

But none of this bothers the people. They grow even more determined to have a King reign over them. So Samuel relents, and anoints Saul King. Saul, in the end, becomes a King who takes. He, too, acts like the Kings of the nations. Paranoid, fearful, arrogant, and acquisitive.

We the Church can fall into a similar temptation. When ministry grows difficult we may say to ourselves we want to be like the nations. We look for the quick fix and see what we might imitate, who we might imitate. We look for success in those our society deems successful people. And there we might find a hidden snare.

Or too in our own lives, to make it more personal, we may find ourselves tempted by the trappings of worldly success to act in ways that are contrary to the life of a disciple. We may be tempted to greed and take and take. We might be tempted to backbiting or politicking. We might be tempted to envy and curse the successes of others. 

But despite the faithlessness of Israel, and despite our own faithlessness, God always remains faithful. Even though God says Israel demands a King because they are rejecting him, yet God chooses to work through Israel’s Kings. God remains with David, God blesses Solomon. But most importantly God becomes Israel’s last and greatest King: Jesus Christ. And while the Kings of the earth, the Kings of the nations, may accumulate glory and wealth by taking and taking and taking, Jesus shows his glory in what he gives. He gives healing. He gives forgiveness. He gives his Spirit. He gives his very life. Though we may be unfaithful, God remains faithful. Despite our sins and our mistakes, God remains faithful. We are sooner to deny God than he is to deny us. He is patient, and loving, and merciful to the last. And his plans can never be frustrated.

Trinity: Receive

Trinity: Receive

We Receive Grace

Isaiah 6:1-8


Rev. Tim Callow


Preached Sun. May 30th, 2021

Before I get into today’s Scriptures I want to tell a different Bible story. This one comes from 2 Chronicles chapter 26. King Uzziah was made king of Judah at the tender age of 16, but reigned for fifty two years. He was a great military leader who beat back the Philistines, those pesky people who much earlier had sent out Goliath as their champion. He also forced neighboring nations to pay him tribute. He was also a great builder, constructing towers and gates. He even built towers in the wilderness in order to strengthen Judah’s defenses.

Uzziah was an excellent king by any earthly standard. We are also told he was brought up in the ways of the Lord by Zechariah. It was God who made him prosper. God spread his fame far around the known world.

All that success can get to your head, and it got to Uzziah’s head. Though he started well, walking in the ways of the Lord, he did not end well. One day he was determined to make sacrifice at the altar of incense. The altar of incense was placed near the inner sanctum of the Temple, right in front of the veil that hid the Holy of Holy’s where the Ark of the Covenant was kept. The Ark of the Covenant was believed to be God’s footstool, and his sure presence. No one was allowed that far into the Temple but the priests. The High Priest Azariah intercepted and confronted Uzziah with eighty of his priests. He explained to the King that it was not lawful for him to make sacrifice.

But telling the King what to do only made him angry. When Uzziah responded angrily to the High Priest Azariah God struck him with Leprosy on his forehead. The once mighty King was then taken away and isolated. He remained leprous until he died.

It is in the year of King Uzziah’s death that Isaiah has this tremendous vision of God’s throne. The hem of his robe filled the whole Temple, and he was surrounded by angelic beings with six wings called seraphim. The seraphim are always before the throne of God singing their threefold Holy, Holy, Holy. The whole Temple was filled with the smoke of the altar of incense.

This is the vision King Uzziah would have grasped for himself. Likely would have thought he deserved it for all his exploits and wisdom. Isaiah, the prophet of the Lord, does not respond in awe or satisfaction. He responds in fear, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seethe King, the LORD of hosts!”

Then a miraculous thing happens, a miraculous thing that perhaps you did not know what so miraculous. One of the seraphs takes a coal from the altar of incense, the very altar upon which Uzziah vainly sought to offer sacrifice, and with the tongs places the coal on the lips of Isaiah. What made Uzziah unclean, corrupting his skin with Leprosy, makes Isaiah clean. “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.”

Uzziah seeks to grasp the right of offering sacrifice, he seeks to barge into the inner sanctum of the Temple and is punished for his impiety and presumption. Isaiah on the other hand is given this vision of the Father as a gift. It is sheer gift. Sheer grace. Though I am sure he did not recognize it as such in the moment. Because he responds to the grace of God in piety, not impiously, the altar of incense is allowed to approach him, in the seraph who brings the coal of the altar to his lips. And he experiences the cleansing grace of God. His sin is blotted out.

It is always tempting for us to be Uzziah, it is always hard for us to be Isaiah. It is tempting for us to be Uzziah because we are naturally prideful and acquisitive. It is hard for us to be Isaiah because it is hard to acknowledge our own sinfulness and the sinfulness of this world that affects us. But when we confess our sins to God, when we approach that throne of grace humbly we find ourselves lifted far higher than we could ever place ourselves. If we approach proudly with our shoulders straight, we find ourselves knocked down farther than we’d ever dare to go.

Such is the grace of God, which is given to the undeserving. It’s not so much withheld from the supposed deserving, as much as they would never ask. Uzziah never asks. He seeks only to proudly approach the altar. Isaiah is afraid of the outrageous gift given to him, and receives the grace necessary to accept the gift of this vision of God.

We cannot grasp God. We cannot define God. We are in no position to negotiate with God. We can only behold God, and receive what God has to offer us. That, I think, is one message of the Trinity, this mystery we celebrate today. We know that God is one and in three persons. That God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and yet remains one God. How this is the case there has been much ink spilled. There are different models, there are alternatives that hav been rejected for various reasons. But it is nothing we could have arrived at if we were guessing. The Trinity is something you could never guess.

Instead, the revelation of the Trinity is something we have received. Like the vision of Isaiah looking upon the throne of God, we have seen God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We may behold Jesus baptized at the River Jordan. The voice coming down, Jesus in the water, the Spirit descending like a dove. We may behold the mysterious working of the Cross where Jesus offers himself to the Father and is raised in the Spirit. We may experience the Triune God in our worship, as we lift up our praises to God, for Christ, in the Spirit. But in all these things, the Trinity is something given to us. A miraculous vision of the wonderful and gracious and powerful God we serve, who desires us to be his children. Who desires us to join with our brother Jesus in the Spirit. Who draws us all into himself.

Not because of anything we have done. But by his gracious favor.

Pentecost

Pentecost

The Church is God’s

Acts 2:1-21
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. May 23rd, 2021

Today is Pentecost, the birthday of the Church. The Church did not begin because someone had planned it. The Church did not begin with the drafting of a constitution or bylaws. The Church began as a gift. It was nothing anyone expected. 

The disciples could not know what was in store for them. They had been through a strange and bewildering fifty or so days. They marched into Jerusalem with their Lord and the multitudes. One of their own would go on to betray him, the crowds would turn against him, he’d be crucified. The third day he’d rise from the dead. And then ascend into heaven. What could they expect? The future was wide open. All they could do is wait.

God does not operate on our time. That can be frustrating. We all have our plans, our wants, our desires. In a world where so much can be ready made and pizza arrives in thirty minutes or less waiting can be tiresome. For the disciples the waiting must have been both terrifying and like a child waiting for Santa. They had seen the awesome grace of God in raising Jesus from the dead, and what more might he have in store? But, indeed, what more might he have in store? And what might that mean for them? Their future was no longer in their hands. Their future was in God’s hands, and would take place in God’s time.

So the disciples are all gathered in one place on the day of Pentecost. We are told there came a sound from heaven like the rush of a strong wind. The wind filled the house in which the disciples sat, and the house was filled with divided tongues of fire that came to rest upon each of the disciples. Not, I suppose, what they expected. The fire, the wind, was a manifestation of the Holy Spirit. They found themselves filled with the Holy Spirit, sent by Christ, and were given the gift to speak in the tongues of the nations.

Outside multitudes from all over the known world gathered to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, which is the celebration of the gift of the Law of Moses. There were people from nationalities that belong to Rome, but there were also people from nationalities that belong to enemy empires. All those gathered heard the disciples preach, and they heard the disciples preach in their own languages. The spirit-filled disciples preached the gospel in such a way that all could understand, no matter their background, because the gospel that they preach is meant for all and can transform all.

Some scoffed that they must be drunk, as good an accusation as any. So Peter spoke, defending the disciples. They can’t be drunk, it’s only 9 in the morning! No, what all had come to witness was the fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy, that God would pour out his Spirit on all flesh that they might prophecy, and that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord would be saved.

What a fantastic miracle. The nations of the world hear the gospel in their own tongues, those who might be enemies hear of God’s reconciliation and mercy. And thousands come to believe. And what’s more, the once cowardly Peter now stands before the nations in zeal and courageously proclaims that salvation comes from the crucified messiah. 

It’s the birthday of the Church.

The Church is not built on the talent of the apostles. It’s not built on their ingenuity or charisma. The Church is built on Christ, and is given to us through the Holy Spirit.

Without the Holy Spirit there is no Church. It is the Spirit that takes the many and makes one. It is the Spirit that gives power to our proclamation. It is the Spirit that guides us, and empowers us, and animates us. Without the Spirit we are nothing. But through the Spirit we are given a grand mission to reach a world that desperately needs to hear of God’s love.

This morning we should remember the Church is not our own. The Church is the gift of God. And it is the gift of God through the Spirit of God. It is not about what we want to do, it is about what God wants to do through us. We are only the Church insofar as the Spirit is given to us. But in that Spirit miracles take place. 

It is the Spirit that gives us vision, focus, and direction. It is the Spirit that can take these weak hands and this stammering tongue and transform lives. It is God’s gift to us, and to this world. 

That is the birth we celebrate today. God’s people. God’s gift. The Church. 

Ascension: Freedom

Ascension: Freedom

God is in Control

Ephesians 1:15-23
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. May 16th, 2021

When I was growing up I remember we used to have Good Friday off school. Some of the businesses would shut down. And the protestant churches would gather from noon to three for one long service built around Jesus’ seven last words from the cross. Oddly, I remember segments of that service being decently well attended. Nowadays I doubt they still hold that service back home, I don’t think there’s enough people who could get off work to make it happen. 

It was not all that long ago that I would go to the ecumenical Good Friday service to sing in the choir. It is one of many changes that have taken place the past few decades that can seem dizzying when you stop to think about it. I have heard people talk about the end of Christendom, the period when the Church fit so neatly into the political and cultural order, and businesses were closed on Sundays. But the decline in Church membership and cultural influence aren’t the only changes that have taken place. We are more aware of gun violence than in the past, with mass shootings publicized and grieved over. If the argument over cancel culture means anything it shows that there are different groups of people in this country with very different sets of norms. 

For some of us it can feel like everything once fit, and now it’s coming apart. Or, perhaps we are realizing this was always a world of injustice and our eyes are being made to see. In either case, there is the feeling of a loss of control, helplessness in watching the news, a nostalgia for a time long past.

Where do we go from here? 

Today is Ascension Sunday. Today we remember and commemorate Jesus ascending into heaven. Luke recounts that Jesus was carried up into heaven. In Acts he says a cloud took him out of their sight. What a strange episode. Having been raised from the dead, forty days later, Jesus ascends into heaven. We may feel, as his disciples must have felt, that he has left us. Imagine how different this world might be if the incarnate Son of God remained. Continued to perform his miracles, continued to lead us into all truth, and established his Kingdom. Instead he has gone up into heaven. And left us to be witnesses to him.

But the significance of the Ascension is not simply that Jesus has gone up to heaven. It is not simply the doctrine of Jesus’ absence. The significance of the Ascension is that Jesus has gone up into heaven for us. That the crucified one reigns, for us. That he fights his enemies, for us. And that he will come again to set all things right, for us.

Our epistle reading this morning is from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and this passage never ceases to amaze me. Paul is giving thanks to God for the Ephesians, a very common thing in his letters. But he takes the opportunity to wax poetical and to give praise to God. He writes, “God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.”

Here he’s talking about the doctrine of the Ascension. He says that when Jesus was raised he ascended, and was seated at the right hand of God. That is to say, he was given a position of great power. In the ancient world the right hand of the King was a place of great influence. God’s right hand is far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, which is to say it is far above whatever spiritual power, whatever demonic power, and whatever political power. He is given a rule far greater than Caesar’s, far greater than Jeff Bezos, and far greater than the President of the United States. He has, Paul tells us, put everything under his feet. And he rules not just for his own sake, but for the sake of the Church, the Church which contains his fulness, the fulness of the one who is present to all things.

What a grand statement. You could imagine it being read in a great cathedral, or preached by a powerful orator in flowing lacy robes. The sermon would end with the blast of a pipe organ, hundreds of thousands of dollars in value. A grand choir would sing a song, half of them might not even believe the things they’re singing but they are paid well to sing it. And the well-dressed congregation would boldly praise God for being on their side.

But what makes this passage so astounding to me is that Paul was not a powerful man. He was, in fact, a poor artisan who barely scraped by. Paul only had opportunity to speak to the well to do and powerful when he was brought to them in chains. No, Paul writes this spectacular passage from a Roman prison. And he doesn’t write to a Church that gathers in a grand cathedral, but he writes to scattered house churches. Each church probably gathered no more than twenty or thirty people. All in all this letter was likely circulated among maybe 400 or 500. Possibly less. And they were a rag tag bunch. Many women, many slaves, some artisans, maybe a handful of people who owned homes and could host a gathering. Paul is not writing to the impressive leaders of Rome, showing how God proves his power in blessing them. He’s writing to the rabble. He’s writing to the rabble from prison. And still he has the gall to say, “And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.”

He has the gall to say it because it’s true. Christ reigns. He reigns for the Church. He is in control. And it isn’t any less true because Paul is in chains, it isn’t any more true when the Church has a hotline to the Oval Office. Christ reigns and he reigns for his Church. We do not need to worry about the future and what it holds. We know the end of the story. We do not need to worry about the Church, Christ has that in hand. All we need to worry about is doing what Christ called us to do, and that is to witness.

This is a world that is in desperate need of the witness of Christ’s love. That is our particular calling. We are called to love. And we are given the freedom to do so because we do not need to be in control. Jesus is in control.

The Gospel on the Move: Spirit

The Gospel on the Move: Spirit

God Shows No Partiality

Acts 10:44-48


Rev. Tim Callow


Preached Sun. May 9th, 2021

When I was in seminary I was involved with a hospitality house. The house was run by both current and former seminarians. The doors were open to absolutely everyone. That, of course, led to a real rag tag group of people across racial, class, and religious lines. And I don’t mean to paint too rosy a picture, there is of course always conflict in any such group of people. But any rag tag group of people that stays together for a halfway decent amount of time is a witness to the power of the Spirit and our hope in the Kingdom.

I remember one summer a group of us decided we wanted to a watering hole to go swimming. This is North Carolina, most of the lakes are manmade. What they call rivers I’d call a creek. But one of the nearby rivers settled briefly into a pond. The current was just strong enough to prevent any algae growth. And the water was deep enough to make swimming worth it. The trek was maybe ten or fifteen minutes down a wooded path, after maybe ten minutes on the road. As we were rounding up people one of the guys who came to our breakfasts agreed to go.

He was one of the scarier people I’ve met. Though he didn’t frighten me. He did not have a home, to my knowledge. He would disappear for months at a time, and I was led to believe he was probably in jail. There were stories about his anger issues, though I never saw it. More likely he skipped town. But he claimed to spend most of his time working out at a mixed martial arts gym, and certainly looked like it. But he was mostly a quiet guy. Which was really what made him seem so frightening. I was surprised he agreed to come with, especially since he was nursing an arm injury. I think he was surprised too. Because by the time we got to the watering hole he did not look very pleased. As we were swimming and jumping off limbs, he stood there rather awkwardly and silently. And when we were done he came home with us and we all had dinner.

The hospitality house led to all sorts of strange moments of joining like this. When people who otherwise would have never crossed paths, cooked and ate together, took trips together, hung out together. And that is, as we see in our New Testament reading, the gospel in action. If the gospel is on the move, we should expect to see strange encounters. We should anticipate peculiar joinings. The communion formed in the Spirit is not a communion of the same. But it is a communion of all sorts of people, the respectable and the odd, the insider and the outcast.

Perhaps I ought to flesh out the full account. We are told there was a centurion in Caesarea named Cornelius. He was what they called back in the day a God fearer. That is, he was a gentile who worshiped the God of Israel. He was known for his generosity to the synagogue in Caesarea and kept good relationships with the Jews. At about three in the afternoon he saw an angel in a vision. The angel told him to seek out Simon Peter, at the house of Simon the Tanner near the seacoast.

At noon the following day Peter had a vision as he went up on the roof to pray. He saw heaven opened up and something like a large linen sheet being lowered to the earth by its four corners. Inside the sheet were all kinds of animals, both clean and unclean. Peter heard a voice, “Get up, Peter! Kill and eat!” Peter refused, “I have never eaten anything pure or unclean!” Again, the voice said, “Never consider unclean what God has made pure.” This happened three times until the linen sheet was brought back up to heaven, and Peter pondered the meaning of the vision.

But as he was pondering the meaning of the vision the Holy Spirit told Peter to go downstairs because three people were looking for him, and that God had sent them. They were messengers sent by Cornelius arranging a visit. They arranged to meet the next day.

And then the unthinkable happened. In one house a faithful Jew met with an unclean Gentile. Cornelius explained his vision of the angel. And Peter preached the gospel. Indeed, he came to recognize, “God shows no partiality. Rather, in every nation, whoever worships him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” And as Peter preached the gospel the Spirit descended on Cornelius and his people. What could Peter do but baptize?

And then, the most remarkable thing, “they invited him to stay for several days.” They were joined in one communion. They stayed together. The Spirit made them one in Christ.

We must never forget that the gospel is for the Jews first, and then the gentiles. That salvation comes from the Jews. We come in from the outside. We are the outcast, the disreputable. But God’s love is such to draw us all in to his embrace. Even the unclean gentiles may receive the Spirit. Because God desires such a rag tag group of people as his witnesses.

White and black. Hispanic and asian. Rich and poor. Republican and Democrat. In our communion we witness to the power of the Gospel. The gospel that proclaims one Lord over all the earth who gave his life that we might have life. Who binds us together in his Spirit. Who seals us in one common baptism. The strangeness of our communion is just another way we witness to the world.

The Gospel on the Move: Strange Joining

The Gospel on the Move: Strange Joining

God Calls All

Acts 8:26-40
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. May 2nd, 2021

I’ve always had a certain ambivalence about planning. On the one hand, it’s crucial to plan ahead. If you don’t set goals and make plans you’re unlikely to accomplish what you need to accomplish. You’ll frustrate yourself, and you’ll frustrate others. And certainly as a pastor, as someone placed at the head, so to speak, of an organization I understand the need for planning. Yet on the other hand I can’t forget the words of Jesus, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Or the words of his brother James, “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.’”

There is a balance we need to strike. Having a clear mission with clear goals, and the acknowledgment that we serve one Lord and, as the old saying goes, we make plans and God laughs.

Philip was a man consumed by his mission. I’m sure he made some plans, but we do not see him planning here. In our reading this morning he simply follows the Spirit. The Spirit sends him on the move, that he might preach the Gospel. The Spirit does not even clue him in to God’s plans. But first says, "Get up and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” Philip drops everything he is doing, and heads out to the road not knowing what that might mean.

When he gets there he sees a large and elaborate chariot. He cannot know, but in the chariot is a eunuch from Ethiopia. As a eunuch he is something of a slave, tied to the court of the Candace of Ethiopia. He was a man of means, he ran the Treasury and had this chariot. But he was just coming from the Temple, where he had gone to pray. At this moment, the moment of God’s planning and not Philip’s, he was reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah. And he was puzzled.

The Spirit again spoke to Philip, "Go over to this chariot and join it.” So Philip sprinted to the chariot. He heard the eunuch reading from Isaiah and asked, huffing and puffing, “Do you understand what you are reading?” “How can I,” the eunuch said, “unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip into the chariot and let him sit next to him.

This whole scenario is God’s prevenient grace. Prevenient grace is that grace that comes before. The grace that comes before the gospel is preached, the grace that comes before forgiveness, the grace that comes before justification. Before that moment when we accept Jesus Christ as our Lord, Jesus is already working to make us his own. God gives up on no one. And God deeply desires the salvation of all. Even this eunuch from a far off land. It is because God was working in his life, before the Spirit sent Philip, that the eunuch took a trip to Jerusalem to begin with. And it was because God was working in his life that the eunuch had a scroll from Isaiah to read. And it is because God was working in his life that he cared deeply enough about the meaning of this scroll that when Philip asked “do you know what you are reading?” He said “how can I unless someone guides me?”

The Bible can be tough. Maybe one reason the bible is tough is so that we may be given guides, and God might bring us together that way. God brings Philip to the eunuch so that the Gospel might be preached to him. And God brings Philip to the eunuch so that he might know salvation that day.

The eunuch reads the scroll, “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb silent before its shearer, so he does not open his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth.” He asks, “who is this about? The author or someone else?” And so Philip explains what has happened. That the one led like a sheep to the slaughter is Jesus of Nazareth. That he did not open his mouth before his persecutors, but remained silent. That his life was taken from the earth. That he died for the sins of the world. “By his stripes we are healed.” But that is not the end of the story. But he also lives. And he reigns. And he calls all to himself to know his forgiveness and salvation.

Philip preaches, and the eunuch listens. Philip preaches, and the eunuch accepts. In joy the eunuch asks, "Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” Philip could think of nothing. So they stop. The eunuch is baptized. And the Spirit moves Philip on. The eunuch goes on his way rejoicing in the Spirit of God. Philip goes on his way to follow the Spirit where he leads. To continue to spread the good news of Jesus Christ.

We are a Spirit led people. Philip ought to be a model for us. Our success relies not on our work, but on our faithfulness. The Spirit is always calling us out. Always beckoning us to be joined to others. Even people as strange and exotic as an Ethiopian eunuch. Because God is not content that his Gospel be kept under lock and key in certain buildings and only known by certain people. But his grace is over all his works, and he claims the whole world. He has called us to go out. To follow, as Philip did, his call. To share the love of Christ to all and sundry. Because God loves all. And wishes to unite all in Christ.

The Gospel on the Move: Follow

The Gospel on the Move: Follow

Follow the Spirit

Acts 4:5-12
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. April 25th, 2021

The first century was and anxious and demanding time for the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem. Since Herod the Great died there hadn’t been a competent and clear sovereign in Roman Palestine. Pilate ran Jerusalem on behalf of Rome, Herod Antipas ruled the Galilee because he couldn’t be trusted with much else. Archileus and Philip ran their own territories. And the Temple was run through the Sanhedrin. 

The Temple was the crown of the Jewish world. Herod the Great had it refurbished at great expense in a forty-six year project. It was at the Temple that the Jewish nation raised up praise and sacrifice to God. It was the Temple that formed the linch-pin between Israel and God. The Temple that held the finances for redistribution and tribute. But the Temple could also be a site of great strains and division. Not all Jews accepted the Temple’s authority, and those who did tended to think it was a tragedy that Rome occupied Jerusalem. Riots were not uncommon. It was not long ago that Pilate slaughtered many Galileans and mixed their blood with their sacrifices as a warning to others. One of the reasons they had to kill this Jesus of Nazareth was to keep him from upsetting the fine political balance between the Romans and the occupied Jews. 

Two things were more important than all else. One was that the sacrifices continue. The other was that the nation be sustained. Caiaphus, Annas, and the rest did their best to achieve these two goals. But it was not always easy, and sometimes they had to make the hard decisions.

When you walk around in their shoes, a bit, you begin to understand why they couldn’t let the good deed of Peter, James, and John go unpunished. We are told that Peter, James, and John arrived at the Temple at three o’clock for prayer. There they found a crippled man at the Beautiful Gate whose friends would bring him there to beg for money. Peter told him they had no money to give, but they did have the name of Jesus by which all may be saved. And said, “In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, rise up and walk!” He lifted the man up, and he began to jump for joy.

But all that jumping for joy and praising God caused a ruckus. The people poured around Peter, James, and John and the formerly crippled man. This gave Peter an opportunity to preach the gospel, which he did with boldness. He let them know it was not by his own power that he healed this man, but only by the power of Jesus Christ “The one you handed over and denied in Pilate’s presence.” He told them about Jesus’ resurrection, and called them all to repentance.

None of this could escape the notice of the guards, who seized them for causing a ruckus. That is where we are brought today. Peter, James, and John stand before the Sanhedrin once again preaching the gospel boldly. It is in the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that Peter tells his judges that it is by the name of Jesus Christ that the man was healed. The same Jesus they, the builders of Israel had rejected. The same Jesus God has raised, and made Lord, the chief cornerstone. And that it is in Jesus alone that salvation may be found.

The Chief Priests and the Apostles find themselves in very different situations. The Chief Priests feel the weight of the world on their shoulders. They are, as Peter says, the builders of Israel. They make order. They keep the peace. They keep Rome at bay. They make the sacrifice that sustains Israel. And because they are the builders, the keeper of order, they have to render judgments and make the tough decisions. But Peter, James, and John are not weighed down by the cares of the world. They have been taken from the world. They are witnesses to the one who sustains the world. They witness to the one who has already rendered judgment in his cross. They witness to the one who truly keeps order by the power of the Spirit.

The Chief Priests make order, but the Apostles are called to follow. The Gospel is on the move, but not because the Apostles decide where it should go. The Gospel is on the move because the Spirit is on the move. Because the name of Jesus is on the lips of people from every nation. The Gospel is on the move because Jesus has already claimed the world and calls us to preach in it. 

We as the Church often face the temptation to put ourselves in the role of the Chief Priests. We are those who render judgments, those who hold the weight of the world. We imagine it is up to us to keep the institution afloat, up to us to make the mission of God work out in the end. But we need to be like the apostles who know a man already died for the sins of the world and so we don’t have to. We need to be like the apostles who are free to follow Jesus where he leads. Who are free to listen to the promptings of the Spirit no matter how uncouth. John Wesley was a man well formed in the ritual and practices of the Church of England. But he was also a man deep in prayer. So when the opportunity came and the Spirit called him to preach not in a Church but in a field, not from a prepared script but extemporaneously, he “submitted to be more vile” and did it. And with decisions such as that, the willingness to follow the Spirit, a movement was started that reached out to millions of souls.

We put so many burdens on ourselves, we weigh ourselves down with worry and anxiety. But Jesus tells us that no one extended their life by worrying for tomorrow and God takes care of the sparrow and has richly garbed the lilies of the field. What more will he do for his Church? We are called to faithfulness and to boldness. We are called to be on the move. That is what matters.

The Gospel on the Move: Kingdom

The Gospel on the Move: Kingdom

We Do Not Build the Kingdom

Acts 3:12-19
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. April 18th, 2021

The Kingdom of God is not up to us. Sometimes we make it seem like it is. I have heard preachers and read books that make it sound as if the fate of the Kingdom of God rests in the hands of the Church. And while God is certainly very helpful, whatever the Kingdom is it is something very tangible. The Kingdom of God may be the vast number of souls that are saved through the work of the Church. The Kingdom of God may be a just social order brought about by the political interventions of Christians. The Kingdom is, in the end, something that we are called to build. People will say that: “build the kingdom.” And it really grates me.

It grates me because you will never find a single line of scripture that says we are called to build the Kingdom of God. But what are we told? We are told the Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, that though it is the smallest of seeds yet it grows to one of the largest of trees. And when it is grown the birds find rest in its branches. What else? The Kingdom of God is like a treasure hidden in a field. A man discovers the treasure, covers it up, and sells all he has to buy that field. What else? The Kingdom of God is like leaven in dough. What else? The Kingdom of God is among us. And what else? The Kingdom of God is something we are called to seek, and the rest will be added onto us. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit, Jesus tells us, for theirs is the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is not in any way, shape, or form, dependent on us. It is not ours to build. But the Kingdom of God is a matter of grace. The Kingdom is God’s gracious gift to us, that grows on its own, that may be discovered, and loved, and rejoiced over. We aren’t called to build it, we are called to find it and to celebrate it and to watch it grow.

The Apostles do not seek to build the Kingdom of God. How could they? They know very well that the Kingdom is something Jesus makes happen, not themselves. But they do seek to find it, and to celebrate it. This morning Peter is preaching to a crowd in the Temple. He and John arrived in the Temple at three in the afternoon to pray. At the gate was a man who had been lame from birth. His friends would set him in the gate to beg for alms. When he begged Peter and John for alms, Peter confessed that he did not have any money. But what he did have was the powerful name of Jesus, and in that name he healed the crippled man.

The man could not help but leap and jump for joy. Just imagine being able to jump for the first time! He praised God loudly and the crowds watched him in amazement, because they recognized him as the one who had begged in the gate. This gave Peter an opportunity to preach the Gospel.

“You Israelites,” he proclaimed, “why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk?” Peter is emphatic that the power to heal, the power to bring forgiveness, the power to save, is not a human power. Peter did not possess the ability to heal. But Christ chose to heal through his words. Peter does not possess the ability to save. But he has the words of salvation, because he is a witness to the risen Lord.

In this healing we have a sign of the Kingdom come. The lame walk. But it is not because Peter put his power or his piety to work. He is very quick to throw that suggestion aside. It’s the first thing he says! The Kingdom does not come by his power or worthiness. The Kingdom comes by the invocation of the name of Jesus Christ. It is Jesus who brings the Kingdom. It is for us to discover it.

It is also significant, I think, that Peter and John do not go out searching for people to heal. They’re not roaming the streets of Jerusalem looking for all the beggars. Instead they are given opportunity. They go to worship God, and there is a man who is in need. God is present. The Kingdom is among them. And at the invocation of Jesus there is healing. There was no plan. There was no grand program. There was the chance encounter. The moment of grace. The gratuitous gift. The beggar asked, and God more than he could have ever hoped.

When we mistake the Kingdom of God as something God charges us to build, then we hazard missing out on the grace God freely gives. The apostles aren’t Kingdom building, they’re Kingdom proclaiming and Kingdom discovering and Kingdom celebrating. And the Church’s mission needs to remain that way. We need to proclaim, discover, and celebrate the Kingdom. Because God freely gives to all who ask.

I’ve seen both styles firsthand. I was part of one ministry that called us to “evaluate needs” and let me tell you that is an awkward position to be in. That is a position of judgment. It creates distrust. But we need to evaluate need because our resources are limited, and we are called to be judicious in distributing them. And they are, in the end, our resources, and it is up to us to disperse them, and we hope that in meeting the evaluated needs the kingdom is being built. But I’ve also seen ministry that was based on not the assumption of need but simply on friendship and celebration. People from different walks of life simply joining together in their common love of Jesus. Welcoming others to celebrate with them. Joining in a common meal, helping out as their friends needed help. And I have to think the latter was a greater image of the Kingdom than the former.

It is not by Peter’s own power that the lame man walks. It is by the power of God. He does not possess the ability to build much of anything. But he can witness to the gracious love of God, the God mighty to save, whose good pleasure it is to give us the Kingdom.

The Gospel on the Move: Common

The Gospel on the Move: Common

The Spirit Brings Love

Acts 4:32-35
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. April 11th, 2021

My seminary had a Field Education program that sent us out to serve rural United Methodist Churches. You might think of it as a paid internship. One of the Churches I had the privilege of serving back then is called Cedar Grove UMC. Cedar Grove is a small rural church in a farming community about a half hour outside of Durham. The community used to run on tobacco, but as the tobacco giants shrank tobacco became much less of a cash crop. As Cedar Grove the town has disappeared, Cedar Grove the United Methodist Church has remained.

But Cedar Grove is also an astonishing community that listens very carefully and faithfully to the word of God. In 2005 a man was killed outside of his bait and tackle shop just down the road from the church. As you might imagine, the community was shocked, because that sort of thing just didn’t happen in Cedar Grove. The murder also brought to the fore many racial and class tensions that are always under the surface down South. Cedar Grove held a prayer vigil outside the bait and tackle shop as a way to give people an outlet for their grief and draw people together. 

One of the people at the prayer vigil was an African American woman who did not attend the United Methodist Church. But she felt called by God to donate 5 acres of land to them. She hoped, in some way, her gift might help heal rifts in the community. The pastor at Cedar Grove at the time was also thinking and praying about ways people might reconcile over literal common ground: tending the soil together.

Anathoth Community Garden was born from that gift. The garden holds classes for at risk youth and anyone else interested in learning how to grow and prepare their own food. Whatever workers do not take home is donated. They also host bible studies and prayer services on their grounds. Perhaps the best part, in my mind, is a large brick oven they use to cook their own pizzas.

I tell this story because it is an example of how I have seen our Scripture today in action. Luke gives a brief account of what life was like among the earliest Christians those first days in Jerusalem. He says they were of one heart and mind. None of them would say of anything “this is mine!” Instead they held everything in common. Their property was freely shared, freely given. Living in this way they gave powerful witness to Jesus Christ and his resurrection.

Luke wants us to see the connection between their way of life and the life of Jesus. In one of the more perplexing gospel accounts a Rich Young Ruler approaches Jesus asking what he must do to be saved. Jesus tells him he knows the commandments, and ought to follow them. When the Young Man tells Jesus he has kept them from his youth Jesus tells him there is still one thing he is lacking, he might sell all he has and give it to the poor. Then he will have treasure in heaven. The Rich Young Man walks away saddened, we are told, because he had many possessions. Lest we think Jesus was counseling the man to lead a life with no resources Luke tells us about the communion of the early Church. All they possessed was freely shared. They could freely share all they had because they were of single mind and heart. By the Spirit of God they were made one.

Jesus in his ministry cultivates this unity and communion. That is why he reaches out to the sick and heals. That is why he reaches out to the outcast. That is why he eats with the tax collectors and sinners. He seeks communion and reconciliation. He wants to make the many one.

Jesus’ ministry of communion extends even to his death. He gives up his life that we might have life. He dies outside the city walls for all who die outside of the city. He is risen from the dead for all who were left for dead. As Jesus donated his life for us and our sake, that we might know the forgiveness of sins and his resurrection, so too the early Church donated their lives for each other’s sake. They lead the a common life. They loved each other. 

The Spirit wishes to foster this same common life and love today. 

That common patch of land, Anathoth Community Garden, is just one example of how common life and love might be known. It is just one example of a gift given, and multiplied. How possessions might be shared, and life might be known in that sharing.

The Spirit still calls us to a common life. The Spirit still calls us to share our resources, and our lives, among each other. The Gospel of Jesus’ own self donation and our salvation beckons us to give of ourselves for each other. And when a Church shows such love among themselves, we witness God’s love to the world.

Easter: Following the Script

Easter Sunday: Following the Script 

Jesus Brings Life

Mark 16:1-8
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. April 4th, 2021

On this most joyous of joyous days, we celebrate our Lord’s Resurrection. Not as fairy tale that happened once upon a time. Not as a good idea. Not as an event that happened in the bygone days of yore, not as a simple fact of history that we might hear about and move on. We celebrate, this day, that our Lord lives, and has triumphed over the power of the grave. We say “The Lord is risen, he is risen indeed.” Present tense, not past tense. On Easter we stare into the mystery and are overcome by the reality of the resurrection. He is Lord. He is alive forevermore. The victory he has won, he shares with us. And the life he has, he shares with all of us. 

Easter has always been a season of great rejoicing. The fast is ended, the feast has begun. After the sorrows of Holy Week our tears reap songs of joy. We seek out our baskets. We hunt for our eggs. We eat our chocolates. We sing our praises. We celebrate. How can we do anything but celebrate? What can we say except alleluia?

And yet we are confronted with a strange scripture this morning, the ending of Mark’s Gospel. While we are celebrating, overcome with joy, the first witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection react in terror and amazement. When the sabbath was over, we are told, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices to prepare the body for burial. Jesus, having died on Friday evening, could not be properly prepared for burial but was instead laid in the tomb for the sabbath. Now that the sabbath had ended, Mary, Mary, and Salome could go about the agonizing task of burial.

Wanting to get the difficult task over with, the women arise as soon as the sun had risen and enter the garden. In their haste they don’t even think about who might roll away the massive stone for them. But when they get there, they see the stone has already been moved away and when they entered they saw a young man. Certainly the last thing they expected. No wonder they were alarmed.

And he said, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here.” But this does not seem to assuage their alarm. They don’t grasp what it means “he has been raised.” All they can grasp is “he is not here.” That is why they don’t so much walk out of the tomb but flee. That is why they do not tell Peter and the disciples as the man told them. Jesus was not in the tomb. And their first reaction was not joy, but terror. And that is where the gospel ends.

How? Why?

Mark means to startle us. He takes us into the terror of that easter morning when despair was safer than hope. When terror was easier than joy. He makes us feel the reaction of those first witnesses, who like the man on the road to Emmaus don’t know what any of this could mean, until he encounters the risen savior. The bare fact of an empty tomb is not the hope. Hope is found in encountering the risen Lord.

And we know they must have encountered the risen Lord. We know they must have spoken to Peter. And we know they must have gone to Galilee to see Jesus. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t have the book. But Mark wishes to put us in that moment of amazement and terror to draw us in. As the women are beckoned to go to Galilee, so are we. As the women need an encounter with the risen Lord to confirm their hope, and make sense of an empty tomb, so do we.

The bare fact of an empty tomb follows the “script” of the world. To use an image. It is only by encountering the risen Lord that we come to work off a different script. 

The “script” of the world is a tragic script. In that story, as it is acted out by players without hope, might makes right. In that story the strong do as they can, and the weak do what they must. In that story death, like the house, always wins. And whoever wields the power of death holds absolute power. In that story there is no resurrection. What is lost will never come back. What dies will never return. It is a story of struggle, loss, and despair.

According to that script Jesus was a Jewish peasant who got some strange ideas. He could have been a little more tactful about them. Maybe he could have learned to express them in ways people could better understand. Maybe he could have avoided Jerusalem and played it safe. But instead he got himself into trouble, he made himself an enemy of the establishment. And he had to die for the sake of the order, which is always more important than any single person. He died, tragically, even unjustly. But such is the way of this world. People die tragically all the time.

In such a script an empty tomb is only a source of terror. We already lost him, now we must lose his body? He has been raised? What does this mean? I do not understand. 

But Jesus would have us live by a different script. This script is what he calls the Kingdom of God. In his parables he called us to live by this script, to see the world in a new way. And in his resurrection he invites us into this new reality, that we might live by a new script.

If the script of the world is a tragedy, the script of the Kingdom is a comedy. Not in the sense that everything is funny, but in the sense that everything ultimately has a happy ending. It is not in death, that the story of this world ends, but in resurrection. It is not the powerful of this world who have real power, but those who follow the poor jewish peasant who stood before Pilate and didn’t speak a word. In such a world, it is love that wins. In such a world forgiveness reaps bountifully. In such a world we need not fear, in the end, because death has lost its power and its sway. 

When we encounter the risen Lord, we are invited to share in this new script. We are invited to see the world not as a tragedy, but as a comedy. We are invited to do this because we are made partakers of his resurrection and his life. As he is risen so too we may be raised. As he lives forevermore so to we may know eternal life.

It is this reality, this present reality, the reception of this script, that we celebrate today. Jesus is alive, and in our midst. He calls us to live in the Kingdom of God. He empowers us through his Spirit. He enables all this through his resurrection.

So let us go, as the young man in the tomb beckoned us, back to Galilee. Let us walk with Jesus anew, hearing him teach on the mountainside. Let us receive anew his parables. Experience anew his 

Covenant: The Last Temptation of Christ

Palm Sunday: The Last Temptation of Christ 

The Kingdom of God is Not Built on Power 

Mark 11:1-11
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. March 28th, 2021

Palm Sunday is for us a temptation, and perhaps the Church’s greatest temptation. It is a temptation that Jesus is able to resist, and a temptation the Church today is also called to resist. According to John’s gospel Jesus will later stand before Pontius Pilate and say “My kingdom is not of this world.” It’s not of this world, he says, because men had not arrived to save him from his trial. Palm Sunday gives us another hint at how it is that Jesus is a King, but his Kingdom is not of this world. 

As Jesus is on his way up to Jerusalem he tells his disciples that he will be betrayed by the chief priests and teachers of the Law, he will be condemned, handed over to gentiles, and killed. But on the third day, he says, he will rise. Right after he says this, as if on cue, James and John come to him and ask if they can sit at his right and left hand in glory. Jesus tells them that they don’t know what they are asking, and he asks them if they are willing to drink the cup he drinks or take on the baptism with which he is baptized. Yea, the sturdy dreamers answered, to the end we follow thee! Though we know it’s all bravado. Jesus knows it too, and tells them that while they will in fact drink his cup and take his baptism (meaning, they will be martyred) it is not for him to give seats of honor in the Kingdom of God. 

The other disciples begin to grumble amongst themselves when they hear about what James and John had requested. So Jesus calls them all together and says, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high official exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” 

Now you may be wondering why am I stuck in Mark chapter 10 when the reading is from Mark chapter 11. Mark puts these accounts together with a narrative purpose, almost as if he were weaving an argument. It is no mistake that he tells us about how James and John sought glory, and Jesus told them that the leaders of the Kingdom are slaves shortly before Jesus makes his triumphant and kingly arrival in Jerusalem. 

As they approach Jerusalem, Jesus sends two of his disciples to go and fetch a colt for him. He tells them that in the village ahead there is a colt that has never been ridden, that they should untie the colt and bring it back. And if anyone asks, let them know the Lord is in need of it. They do so, and bring the colt back. They put their cloaks on the back of the colt and Jesus sits on it. 

Now Jesus didn’t ask for a colt because he was tired. Jesus had been wandering for three years now and was quite used to walking. He took the colt as a sign. For in Zephaniah it is prophesied that the King would arrive on a donkey, and indeed donkeys were seen as a kingly animal in the Hebrew bible, precisely because of how humble a donkey is seen to be. Jesus is announcing to all of Jerusalem that he is King by making this grand entrance. 

The multitudes pick up on what Jesus is doing and take off their cloaks and lay them on the ground to act as a red carpet. They cut off the branches of palm trees and wave them to give shade. They begin to shout “Hosanna!” which means “Save!” Save us from the Romans! Save us from our occupiers! A dangerous slogan. They even begin to recite Psalm 118, the psalm recited at the enthronement of a King, “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!” 

Jesus enters Jerusalem and makes it all the way to the Temple. We should not mistake the significance of this. The Temple is a lot more than just a really big Church. The Temple was a large bank. It was a node of political power. It is where the one true God held his throne. And Jesus, the King, had just entered. From there he could establish his Kingly rule, speak for his Father, command legions of angels, proclaim a revolution. He had quite literally made the entrance of a King, the people fawned over him. This was the moment. Now he could free Israel. Now he could defeat the Romans. Now he could save. 

But instead, after doing a bit of sightseeing Jesus goes back to Bethany. 

Do you see the temptation? The temptation is to take power. If only Jesus were in power, if only Jesus were president we might think, then everything would be fine. But Jesus himself rejected that solution. He did not seek power over others. He did not, like the gentiles, seek to Lord himself over others. But he leaves just when he could. Though being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. Instead he submits to death, even death on a cross. 

The Kingdom of God is not established on power over others, the power of earthly kings and emperors. The Kingdom of God is about power with others. The Kingdom of God is about serving others, even at the cost of one’s own life. The Kingdom of God is about building up, and despising shame. The Kingdoms of this world fear death and they deal death. The Kingdom of God is stronger than death, has overcome the grave and so deals out life. 

It’s so easy to imagine how things would be better if only we were King. Or if only the people I like had power. But what Jesus asks us to imagine, especially this Palm Sunday, is how we can take the power that is already in our hands and use it to serve others. How we might throw it away, even waste it, for others. Because that is how Christ operates. That is how Christ won for us forgiveness and life. 

Grace

There are words we use in Church that are ubiquitous but sometimes ill-defined. Grace can be one of them. We ought to be talking about grace each and every Sunday. But at the same time Christians can mean different things when they say the word “grace.” And those differences can be subtle. It can be helpful to draw out what we mean when we say “grace.”

In Paul and the Power of Grace John M.G. Barclay talks about “perfections” of gift and therefore of grace. A perfection is a tendency to “draw [a concept] out to its endpoint or extreme.” (12) He suggests our differences over “grace” might reside in how we choose to “perfect” the concept. He offers six perfections of grace, or gift.

1. Superabundance. We might say God’s grace is superabundant in it’s sheer lavishness. We might also say it is unending, infinite, more than anything we could ask or imagine.

2. Singularity. We might say God is singularly benevolent or loving in his grace. There is no room for wrath, or disappointment. When God gives it is solely out of love, and if love is lacking then our understanding of grace is lacking.

3. Priority. We might say that God’s grace always precedes anything that we do. In some cases this turns into predestination, the idea that God chooses the saved.

4. Incongruity. We might say that God gives precisely to those who are undeserving. When we were dead in our sins God showed his love for us by sending his Son to die for us.

5. Efficacy. We might say God’s gifts accomplish what they set out to do. In some traditions this turns into the idea that when you are once saved you are always saved. How could God’s grace not effect salvation?

6. Non-circularity. We might say that God gives expecting nothing in return. So good works are not a return gift to God. Thanksgiving is not a return gift to God.

You’ve likely seen God’s grace described in many if not all of these ways. Some equate God’s grace with his singular love and acceptance. Others equate God’s grace with it’s priority and non-circularity, that the ball is always in God’s court so we are unburdened by self-righteousness. And everyone might think they have the corner on grace, and if anyone disagrees with them they just don’t understand grace.

But no one has the corner on grace. Everyone at least affirms God’s free and loving grace. The question becomes what is grace? What is the biblical picture? How does God’s grace work in our lives and our communities? And when we get a clearer vision of how we understand grace then we can better discern what grace is.

Covenant: Adoption

Covenant: Adoption
God Desires that We Have the Faith of a Son 

Jeremiah 31:31-34
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. March 21st, 2021 

In Luke Jesus tells us a parable that strikingly distinguishes the old covenant from the new, the mosaic from the messianic. The beginning of the Lord’s work, to its completion. A man had two sons, which is always a bad sign in scripture. The younger one asks his farmer for his share of the inheritance. Now this is a big thing to ask, because wealth in those days was not easily liquidated. The younger son isn’t asking for money, he’s asking for a portion of the land, a portion of his family’s livelihood. But the Father, out of love, grants him his share of the estate and the son very quickly sells it and runs off with the wealth. 

The youngest goes to a far away country where he squanders all that he has on sex, drugs, and rock and roll. After he spends everything he has a severe famine strikes the whole country and he falls into serious need. So he hires himself out to a gentile and works in a literal pig sty. He longs to eat the pods given to the pigs, but he wasn’t allowed to eat even that. Well, it doesn’t take long before he comes to his senses and figures that his father’s hired men are far more well fed. “I will set out and go back to my father,” he says, “And I will say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of our hired servants.” 

So he gets up and goes back to his father’s house. But while he was still a long way off his father catches sight of him, is filled with compassion, and runs to his son. A rather ridiculous image to imagine. I imagine a picture of Abraham, for some reason, with the long beard. He girds up his robe, exposes his chicken legs, and runs down the dusty driveway leading with his head like in some cartoon. He careens down the way and throws his arms around his son, kissing him. The son then says, “Father, I have singed against heaven and against you, I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But before he can ask to be made one of the hired men, his Father cuts him off and commands his servants to get the best robe, to put ring on his finger and sandals on his feet, to slaughter the fattened calf and have a feast, for the son he lost has been found. 

But everyone isn’t at the celebration. The good son remains in the field and refuses to go in. When his father comes out and pleads with him to return the good son says, “Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed. Yet you never have me even the young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home you kill the fattened calf for him!” You can imagine the sorrow in the father’s eyes and voice when he replies, “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” 

Both the prodigal son and the good son acted as if they were under the old covenant. They had the faith of a servant. In the case of the prodigal son he thinks his relationship with his father is a contractural one, tied to the land, that if broken cannot be restored. Once the land is split, and the property sold, he is no longer a member of the family. Having squandered his living in a gentile land and shaming his name he figures the best he can do is be his father’s servant. The good son too has the faith of a servant, he’s never realized his status as a son. He does not realize that all that his father has is his own, but thinks his relationship with his father is purely one of servitude and obedience. “I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders.” He whines. 

But the father in the story treats them both as they are. He receives the prodigal son into sonship so that he can have the faith of a son. And sadly tries to bring the good son from his servitude to recognizing he is a son. The former covenant made through Moses does bring freedom, but it also brings servitude. It brings freedom by showing us sin, it brings servitude by binding us to its commands. And as lovely as the Law may be, the Law also brings fear. Fear of punishment, fear of falling short of its strict commands. Further, the Law cannot make us righteous, it can only tell us what righteousness entails. A new covenant was still needed, one that could make us righteous. One that casts out fear with love. 

Jeremiah prophesies the coming of this new covenant. “But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” The New Covenant, the covenant made in Jesus’ blood, puts the law in our hearts. It is the covenant of inward renewal. It is the covenant of our adoption as children of God. “Because you are sons,” Paul tells us, “God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.” Through this New Covenant we are made heirs of all that belongs to Christ. We are given every spiritual blessing, and we are transformed. Fear is cast aside because perfect love casts out fear. We no longer need to fear punishment for we know that we are dearly beloved children of God. And our hope in God carries us through all circumstances. 

As there are two covenants so there are two sorts of faith. Some have only the faith of a servant, to others is given the faith of a son. The faith of a servant is a servile faith that operates out of fear and relies on works. It is the faith that thinks if I follow the rules, if I become a good person, I will be saved. The faith of a son is a joyful faith and relies on God’s grace. All faith is God’s gift. Those who are given the faith of a servant can move onto the faith of a son, the fruit of the new covenant. 

God ultimately wants to make children out of us. God wants to adopt us, because God loves us, and we have strayed away for far too long. And this is how God wants to transform us. Not through external rules only, but through being made part of God’s household. Sharing his life. Of being transformed inwardly. By receiving his grace. It is to this end that Christ came into the world. It is to this end that Christ died, and was raised. God delivers us from death by making us his children by faith. 

Covenant: Snakes

Covenant: Snakes


God Brings Us Through the Wilderness

Numbers 21:4-9


Rev. Tim Callow


Preached Sun. March 14th, 2021

God brings the Israelites through the wilderness into the promised land because we all face the wilderness in our lives. The wilderness is a place of trial, it is a place of longing, it is a place of suffering, of hunger and of thirst. We face the wilderness when a loved one dies, and our world seems to collapse. We face the wilderness when we watch someone we love suffer, and perhaps we face the realization of how little there is we can do to help. We face the wilderness when we get sick, and the nagging illness doesn’t go away. We face the wilderness when there is trouble at work, or a disagreement in the family. So much of our life can be consumed by wilderness wandering. The Bible focuses so much on the wanderings of the Israelites because of the Bible’s relentless realism.

I had mentioned before that we can be really pessimistic today. Perhaps the reason so many people are pessimistic is because so many people expect to be happy. Now, don’t get me wrong. God wants us all to be happy. Holiness is happiness. But somehow along the way we got the wrong idea about happiness. We think happiness is chemicals in the brain, or a pleasant state of mind. When happiness has more to do with one’s whole life.

In his Histories Herodotus recounts the story of Solon and King Croesus. Solon was one of the Seven Sages of Greece, renown for giving Athens her laws and establishing her constitution. As Herodotus recounts the legend King Croesus had summoned Solon to his court and showed him all his great riches and asked Solon whether he was the happiest man in the world. Solon replied that there were three who were happier than Croesus, one because he died in battle and the two others because the goddess had granted them a happy death. The point being that happiness is not merely an emotional state, but characterizes one’s whole life, “don’t call anyone happy until they are dead” Solon advised. Croesus would later lose his son, his wife, his wealth, and his nation, and died bitter and sad.

King Croesus hubristically thought he was happy, when in reality his happiness was only fleeting. He did not have the true happiness that comes from living life well. So when Croesus met the wilderness of his life he was ill-prepared, and succumbed to the suffering. Too often that’s what people do. They meet the wilderness, and they succumb to their hunger and thirst. The Israelites do as much in our reading this morning. They are tired of their wanderings, tired of quail and manna and miraculous water. They are tired of battle. So they lash out at God. “Did you bring us out here to die?” they ask.

So God makes the snakes to come, and they bite the Israelites so that many of them died. They turn to God and ask for deliverance. God tells Moses to make a bronze serpent and lift it high, and all who look upon the serpent in the wilderness will live. Moses does make the serpent, the people do look upon the serpent, and their wounds are healed. The snakes disappear. In this moment, they are saved.

Jesus tells us this morning that the serpent signified himself. As the serpent was raised in the wilderness the Israelites wandered, so too he is raised in our own wilderness. And as the Israelites looked upon the snake and lived, if we believe in Jesus’ name we too will live. We too will be carried through the wilderness in our own lives. We too will find healing. And we may be made happy.

We will be made happy not because we will not have to enter the wilderness. God never covenants that we will not have to go through the wilderness. He dearly loved the Hebrews, but they too had to enter the wilderness. But we can be happy in a deeper sense. We can be happy in that we are given “the peace that surpasses all understanding” as Paul writes in Philippians. In that same letter Paul writes that he has learned the secret of being content in all circumstances. That secret to being content in all circumstances is trusting in the promise. In looking to Jesus. In knowing that we are members of a covenant. Knowing that God is stronger than all we may encounter. And he leads the way.

The covenants God has made have never been about avoiding suffering. Though the day is coming when every tear will be wiped away from our eyes. But God does promise that he will be with us, and that he is nearer to us than we are to ourselves. He promises that we will make it through the wilderness. He has sent his Son to be lifted up, that we may believe in his name and live. And he promises that in spite of it all, we may know happiness. Not in the fleeting sense, but in the sense of having lived a good and holy life. A life that Christ makes possible.

Covenant: Freedom

Covenant: Freedom
The Law Brings Freedom 

Exodus 20:1-17
Rev. Tim Callow 

Preached Sun. March 7th, 2021

The Hebrew people had become slaves in the nation of Egypt. For years they cried out to God for deliverance from bondage, that they would be free. God sent Moses, a Hebrew of Hebrews who by God’s gracious providence had been raised within the court of Pharaoh so that one day he would be the one to free his people. Through Moses God sent plagues onto Egypt. Plagues like frogs, and boils, and gnats, and darkness, and the Nile turned to blood. But these plagues only hardened Pharaoh’s heart. Finally, God sent the angel of death to claim the firstborn of Egypt. Finally Pharaoh relented, and set the slaves free. 

But it did not take long before Pharaoh’s heart hardened again, and he sent his chariots to come and reclaim the slaves. The Hebrew people were at the banks of the Red Sea, and all hope seemed lost. But with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm God split the sea open, and the Hebrews walked through the sea as though through dry land. And when they had crossed, and while the army of Pharaoh was crossing the sea, God let the waters fall and drowned the chariots. Then the Hebrews rejoiced, they were free. 

It was during their sojourning in the wilderness that God gave the Hebrew people the Mosaic Law, the condition of a new covenant. It may seem to us that God released his people from one bondage to another. But when we read the Old Testament, and especially when we hear from David this morning, we may be surprised by how they sing the Law’s praises and see the Law as a form of grace. “The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the LORD are sure, making wise the simple,” David sings, “the precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is clear, enlightening the eyes.” Paul will later speak of the enslaving and futile power of the Law, and we will get to that. But for now I want to talk about its liberatory character. Why does David praise the Mosaic Law? Why did the Jewish people see it as the condition of freedom? 

Through his mighty works God had delivered his people from external tyranny, but God’s greater work was to deliver them from internal tyranny. The tyranny that we face from our own sinful desires is far stronger and more ignoble than the tyranny of states and strongmen. As soon as the Hebrews were freed from Egypt it was clear they still had this internal tyranny with them, this tyranny of the heart. The hebrews began to grumble, and to distrust God. They desired to return to their slavery in Egypt where at least they could eat cucumber. They constructed an idol made of gold, a calf, and began to dance around it. Clearly not all was right within the camps of the Hebrews. They were a stiff-necked people, stubborn, and hard of heart. 

Liberation from tyrants is one thing. Liberation from yourself is another thing entirely. The past few years we have heard about a number of pastors whose ministries were blessed by God, but who were enslaved to sinful desires. I think running a megachurch, or a large ministry, presents unique challenges for a pastor’s spiritual life. Ministry can already be lonely. But when you either founded a large church, or operate a ministry with your name on it, it can inflate your ego. It is also much harder for anyone else to hold you to account. And I’m sure Satan loves nothing more than tempting people whose failings would most scandalize the faithful.

Paradoxically, if there were more safeguards to hold these leaders to account, more safeguards to hold them to Law, they would have likely been more truly free. Freedom is not simply being able to do whatever you want. Sometimes we might think that way, but there’s no freedom in addiction, and there’s no freedom in suffering. Freedom, instead, is being able to do right, just, and good things. And insofar as we are encumbered with sinful desires, and insofar as we give in, we lose some freedom. But just law can help us, by the grace of God, move toward freedom.

John Wesley understood this principle. When he founded the Methodist Society he put a condition on membership. If you wanted to be a Methodist, in his day, you needed to follow three rules. The first rule was to do no harm. That is harm not just to others, but to do no harm to oneself. He lists a few examples of where is mind was when it came to that rule: “Doing to others as we would not they should do unto us. Doing what we know is not for the glory of God, as: “The putting on of gold and costly apparel. The taking such diversions as cannot be used in the name of the Lord Jesus. The singing those songs, or reading those books, which do not tend to the knowledge or love of God. Softness and needless self-indulgence. Laying up treasure upon earth.” The second rule is Do good. By which he meant doing good works for oneself and for others, following the example of Christ. Some examples he has, “by being in every kind merciful after their power; as they have opportunity, doing good of every possible sort, and, as far as possible, to all men: To their bodies, of the ability which God giveth, by giving food to the hungry, by clothing the naked, by visiting or helping them that are sick or in prison. To their souls, by instructing, reproving, or exhorting all we have any intercourse with; trampling under foot that enthusiastic doctrine that "we are not to do good unless our hearts be free to it.” And finally, “by attending upon all the ordinances of God.” By which he meant diligently availing ourselves of those ordinary means of grace by which Christ promises to be with us. “The public worship of God. The ministry of the Word, either read or expounded. The Supper of the Lord. Family and private prayer. Searching the Scriptures. Fasting or abstinence.”

When Methodists met in small groups they called class meetings they would discuss the three rules and how they have resolved to follow them. This was not meant to be a burden. How could it be? It was directing their hearts to true freedom. Instead, Methodists reported their spiritual life deepened, and a stronger attachment to Christ.

The Laws of Moses function similarly. These are not meant to be burdensome, though people made it that way in the end. They are meant to be life giving. They direct us away from sinful temptations, and free us for joyful obedience.

Simple Rules

Give to those who ask, and don’t refuse those who wish to borrow from you. Matthew 5:42

Nowadays if you want to say someone is real smart you liken them to Einstein. But before Einstein if you wanted to say someone is real smart you might have likened them to Adolf von Harnack. Harnack was a historian and biblical scholar par excellence, and a major public intellectual in Germany. One of his most popular books was the transcription of some of his lectures titled “What Is Christianity?” Which is never a bad question to ask. He saw in Jesus a higher ethic, a pure teaching, that would be encumbered by the husk of human tradition in the early Church. That pure teaching could be summarized in three parts: the Fatherhood of God, the Brotherhood of man, and the higher ethic that is love.

Harnack’s Jesus taught that God loves each and every one of us, that all of us are united in fraternal bonds, and that we are to do all things in the attitude of love. While other religious teachers may multiply their doctrines and other philosophers may overly complicate things, Jesus keeps it simple and pure. And a lot of people still believe in the Jesus that Harnack uncovered.

But as appealing Harnack’s summary of Jesus’ teaching may be at times, when you dig into what Jesus had to say it is rarely as pure or as simple as Harnack would make out. What is remarkable about Jesus’ moral teaching is not so much how high it is, but how low it can get. Low in the sense of the every day. Jesus gives us a lot of specific commands. Don’t look with lust. Don’t say raca. Don’t offer sacrifice if your sister or brother holds something against you. Don’t be showy in your prayers. Make sure to wash and anoint yourself when fasting. And, as I quoted above, give to those who ask, don’t refuse anyone who wishes to borrow from you.

Jesus does not first preach an attitude and tell us to do everything with that attitude. Jesus first preaches specific concrete commands. And they are hardly comprehensive. Jesus does not tell us what to do in all aspects of our life. Sometimes we may wish he did. But he does give us these strange, concrete, unavoidable commands. Like to always give to those who ask.

It’s a worthwhile adventure to commit to following some of these commands in a simple and naive way for a time. Try simply, and naively, giving to those who ask and never refusing people who want to borrow from you. See what happens. In my experience, giving to people who asked not knowing any better, I discovered new friends and found my life enriched. These commands are given to us as roadways to the Kingdom. Jesus’ ethic isn’t in an attitude of love, per se. It’s in these little acts of renunciation, these little and sometimes foolish rules, that make love possible. Maybe Jesus recognized if he just told us to love, we might become prideful. After all, I’m the one acting in love. But if he tells us to give to everyone who asks, we will have to love, though we are less tempted toward pride.

The simple rules of the gospel are given to us that we might grow in that love. But love is known in the rules. That’s how Jesus taught. He taught through parables, or story, and weird rules that make a new sort of life founded on love possible.

Covenant: Promise

Covenant: Promise
Believe in God’s Promise 

Romans 4:13-25
Rev. Tim Callow 

Preached Sun. February 28th, 2021 

I feel like we live in deeply pessimistic times. Part of it could just be me growing older, but I feel like we are far more cynical than we used to be, speaking generally. There is a sense of malaise in our country that has so many different causes. Everyone is against the way things are, but no one things they’re winning to change it. It’s easy for us to imagine a meteor striking Manhattan than it is to imagine a world full of faithful disciples of Jesus Christ, and what that might look like. It is easier for us to throw our hands up in front of forces that are much larger, and stronger than we are, and to assume the worst in others. 

The pessimism that starts in society or in politics easily trickles down into a general pessimism about life. There used to be a bumper sticker you’d see that simply said “love wins.” And at times I’m tempted to reply “really? Are you so sure? What ever gave you that idea?”

But it is in the midst of this world, and no other, that God makes his promises. It is in the midst of our lives, with all its numbing difficulty, that God promises life.

In the beginning is the promise. That is where the covenant gets its start. Before the Law with all its rules and regulations comes the promise. God’s promise of blessing, God’s promise of land, God’s promise of a nation. The promise that was made to Abram long ago, is made to us today. 

Abram, we are told, was ninety-nine years old when the Lord appeared to him and reiterated the promise he had made back when he called Abram out of the Land of Ur. “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.” When the Lord said this Abram fell on his face. Then the Lord continued, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations.” 

The promise was that if Abram, now Abraham, remained faithful that he would live out the meaning of his new name “Abraham.” He would be made the father of a multitude of nations. Yet Abraham was already ninety-nine years old, without a single child. It would be easy for him to laugh God off. We might say that Abram would be right to be distrustful, cynical of God’s motives, questioning God’s power here. But Paul tells us, “He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” 

Abraham was no fool. He knew he was old. He knew old men did not have children, and old women did not give birth. And yet, perhaps he was a fool. Abraham had faith in the promise of God, faith in the God who could bring something out of nothing and life out of death. And so he held firm to his faith and it was “reckoned to him as righteousness.” 

This, Paul tells us, was not written to us simply on the basis of historical interest. Abraham’s story isn’t written down just to be a good yarn, or to end up as a question on Jeopardy. But as his faith in the promise of God was reckoned to him as righteousness, and he was the father of a great nation, so too our faith in Jesus Christ as the lamb of the new covenant will be reckoned to us as righteousness as well. The true daughters and sons of Abraham are the children who keep the faith of Abraham. The children who listen to the promise of God, and believe. 

So at the beginning of the covenant lies the promise. God promises before the covenant is set in stone. And what is it that God promises? But God promises life “for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever would believe in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”  But God promises peace, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” And God promises salvation, “If you declare with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” God promises us a full life lived not just in the hereafter but in the here and now. God promises us peace, and joy, and love. God promises to take our worry, to fill our hearts with his love. God promises deliverance from temptation and the forgiveness of all our sin. God promises these things in Jesus Christ. 

Do we, as the old hymn goes, stand on the promises of Christ our Lord? I know this is a tremendous temptation for me. When I’m in a crisis, or I’m ill, my first thought is too often “woe is me.” I recently offered up a worry of mine in prayer, and I quickly realized I may not be all that happy about it if God were to answer my prayer. Sometimes we come to cling to our own anxiety and worry and pessimism, don’t we? Why, without it, what would we have to complain about? But I only prayed more earnestly to have the worry taken away, and that I would also be happy about it.

It may seem silly to focus on daily worries as a way to exercise our faith in the promise of eternal life. Like, should I really turn to God for every tummy ache? Isn’t that overkill? Won’t God get sick of it? But if we don’t trust in God on the little things, where is our trust in God on the big things? If we don’t expect peace and joy now, what is the state of our hope in the hereafter? The promise of God ought to explode all our worldly cynicism and all our worldly malaise. No problem you face is too big for the living and active God. The God who made the 99 year old Abraham the Father of many nations, and gave the barren Sarah a son, can give you peace in the midst of strife and give comfort to your grief. He can make clear your path, and redirect your mind and heart to his love and promise.

Does it all feel too good to be true? Peace, love, joy. Eternal life. Salvation from the power of sin. Adoption as children of God? I will confess sometimes I might feel that way. How could God be so generous? Why me? And yet, that is just what God promises us this morning. That is just what God promises you this morning. Jesus Christ died and is risen. He will not die. He offers this life to you. Have you accepted it? Will you accept it? Will you join that New Covenant, the covenant of promise?

Covenant: Baptism

Covenant: Baptism
We Take on a Covenant in Baptism 

Genesis 9:8-17
Rev. Tim Callow 

Preached Sun. February 21st, 2021 

One of the unique characteristics of God of the Bible, as opposed to the gods of other faiths, is that he makes covenant with his followers. A covenant is a form of contract, concerning the rights and responsibilities of two parties. While today we write up contracts on sheets of paper, a covenant was a contract that was ritually recognized and mutually enforced. There are quite a few examples of covenants in the Bible, outside of the covenants God makes with his people. Isaac, when he is in the land of the philistines gets into a conflict with King Abimelech over the ownership of wells. The philistines won’t let him use his father’s wells, and they confiscate the wells Isaac digs up. Finally, King Abimelech arrives at Isaac’s encampment with his officers and offers a truce. He recognizes that the Lord is with Isaac, and seeks to make a covenant with him that they would be at peace. Isaac agrees. They have a feast at Isaac’s expense, and the morning after they exchange oaths. The men are now bound to each other, and peace is established. 

Perhaps one reason we teach this account of Noah’s Ark to kids is we want them to teach them about God’s covenants and God’s promises through those covenants. I’ve often thought it is strange that Noah’s Ark is such a fixture in children’s curriculum, maybe you have as well. A church I once served had a gorgeous mural in their nursery of Noah’s Ark with the rainbows and all the animals coming out. Another church had multiple ark toys. Why, when trying to teach children about the love of God, do we begin with the time God got fed up with humanity and tried to do the most of us in?

On one level, that’s what this account is about, right? God sees all the wickedness on the earth and gets sick of it. So he resolves to bring a flood to wipe out all living things on earth. But, he cannot bring himself to wipe out absolutely everything. Instead he finds Noah, who is a righteous man, and tells him of his plan. He tells him he wants him to build an Ark, of certain dimensions, and to fill the ark with his family and two of every kind of animal. Noah acts dutifully amid the jeers of his contemporaries. Until the ark is completed, the animals are corralled in, and the rain starts to pour. And the rain pours, and pours, and pours, for forty days and forty nights. A biblical idiom that means “a very long time.” After some time Noah sends out a dove, who returns having found no land. Seven days later he sends the dove again, who returns with an olive branch, signifying land. Seven days later he sent the dove and it does not return. 

When Noah finds land he builds an altar, and sacrifices to God. God then makes a covenant with Noah that he will never again flood the earth. And as a sign of that covenant he puts his bow in the sky. The rainbow that appears after a rain to remind us of God’s promise. 

Truth be told when I was taught about Noah’s Ark growing up my mind did not fixate on the destruction of the earth, or on God’s wrath. The story was taught rightly so that my mind was fixated on God’s love and on all the cute animals. God’s love, in this story, is shown through the covenant he makes with Noah and through Noah with all of humanity. That covenant being that he will no more flood the earth. A covenant that is met with a sign, the sign of his bow that shines in the sky after the rain. God knows it’s not enough that we be told, but we also yearn to see. Which is why God so often matches his promises with signs. But I digress.

God uniquely shows his love for his people through covenant. God doesn’t have to act in covenant. God could simply declare things and let it be. God doesn’t need to get his hands dirty, so to speak, in this way. But the Lord’s love for us is such that he desires to bind himself to us. Much like two people come to love each other so much they wish to be bound together for the rest of their lives and get married, God loves us very much and wishes to bind himself to us in covenant.

God covenants to us through Noah. God covenanted to Israel through Abraham and Moses. And now God covenants to us through Christ. Noah’s Ark also points to that New Covenant made through Christ on his cross, whereby we are adopted as Children of God. As God saved Noah through water, Peter reminds us, so God saves us now through the waters of baptism. In Baptism God claims us as his own, and incorporates us into this new covenant he has established. That is to say, by being made part of this covenant we are bound to God, and God has bound himself to us. As the rainbow is a sign of God’s covenant with Noah, baptism is the sign of God’s covenant with us. The covenant of grace that promises eternal life. God has made his promise, and he remains faithful to his promises. God has set in front of us the path that leads to life, and will give us the grace that leads the way. 

This season of Lent I will be discussing the covenants of God. What these covenants say about God’s love, what humanity’s response to God’s covenants says about us, and how God always remains faithful to the promises he makes in his covenants even when we are unfaithful. I think this is a good topic for us to cover in this season of all seasons. That we may be remembered that we are a covenant people, that we have taken on God’s yoke, that we may repent of the ways we have sinned. But further than that, we may also trust evermore in the promises and love of God as shown in the rainbow that streams across the sky, as shown in the water of baptism, as shown in the blood of the cross that washes us clean.

Seeing is Believing: Glory

Seeing is Believing: Glory
Jesus Christ is Fully God and Fully Man 

Mark 9:2-9
Rev. Tim Callow
Preached Sun. Feb. 14, 2021 

Soren Kierkegaard, a danish lay theologian and philosopher, tells the story of a prince who fell in love with a peasant woman. But the prince feared that he would overwhelm her with his wealth and power. Being a princess is, after all, a major responsibility. One also has to be familiar with the etiquette and ritual, it’s not all what Disney has led us to believe. So the prince hatches a plot, he puts on the rags of a peasant and goes to work with the woman. He jokes with her, listens to her stories. It creates a dramatic tension. When will the prince confess his love? Will the girl confess first? When will the prince reveal his true identity, take off his rags, and lead the girl to the castle so they can live happily ever after? Perhaps, he will even wait until the wedding night itself to reveal his true identity. 

Sometimes, we think of Jesus’ incarnation this way. We can imagine that Jesus was really God in a man suit because he knew that we could not handle his true glory and divinity. He puts on the rags of flesh to court us, that we might fall in love with him. Then we eagerly await that moment when he’ll take those rags off, and reveal his true identity, and whisk us all away to his home in the sky. 

The only problem with that, Kierkegaard says, is that Jesus is a man all the way down. There is no royal purple under his peasant rags. Jesus is fully man. The Romans knew this, they put nails through his hands and a spear through his side. They saw the blood run down. They heard him say, “I thirst.” The crucified Christ is the resurrected Christ, and it is only the crucified Christ that can save us. 

Only the crucified Christ can save us because only the crucified Christ that can show us the way of peace. If Jesus were somehow superhuman, somehow unhuman, he could not be our savior. The savior of the human race must be part of the human race. If he’s a great human teacher, he has to be teaching something that we can actually follow. When we say that God took on flesh in Jesus Christ, we are not saying that he’s a cosmic superman. He still had a human will, he still had human bones, human muscles, a human brain, and a human soul. He was every bit as human as we are. Human rags all the way down. 

This is why Paul can say, “And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing.” Remember the carol Hark the Harold Angels Sing? “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, hail th’ incarnate deity!” While Jesus Christ is human all the way down, he is still God in flesh. God with us. He is still the eternal word living a human life. And he is still the glory of God shining in the darkness. This is what we proclaim. It is only by the name of Jesus Christ that we may be saved, that it is in this Jew from Nazareth that we find our hope. For by being God he could break the power of sin and overcome the devil, but by being human he could do so for our sake. So while by all appearance he is just another man, it is by faith that we are given the grace to see our salvation in him. 

Today is Transfiguration Sunday. Today we commemorate that strange account Mark places at the very center of his gospel, where Peter, James, and John are blessed with vision of Jesus’ divinity, in an episode that mirrors Jesus’ Baptism. Jesus leads them up a mountain, alone. Then, as they are up there, Jesus is transfigured. His clothes become dazzling white as no one could bleach them. He exudes the glory of God. And next to him stand Moses and Elijah, who are talking with him. 

Peter is terrified, and doesn’t know what to say. So he blurts out, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Perhaps Peter mistakenly thought the end had come, and Jesus was now going to restore the Kingdom of Israel. He is, after all, talking to the great lawgiver in Moses, and to the prophet who was to come before the Messiah in Elijah. But this was not the beginning of the restoration of the Kingdom. That would be the cross. Instead a cloud comes and overshadows them. And from the cloud comes a mighty voice. “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Just as the whole episode began, it was over. The cloud dispersed, and they were once again alone with the Jesus they knew and love.

As they went down the mountain Jesus ordered them to tell no one what they had seen, until the resurrection.

In this moment, Peter, James, and John are given miraculous vision. It is a matter of grace, though they may not have known it at the time. It is vision that we too may be given. That vision is to see in Jesus more than just the itinerant preacher, more than just the healer, more than just the exorcist, more than just the peasant in rags. But to see in him the light that shines brighter than the sun, to see the robes bleached whiter than any human robes, to see in him the glory of divinity. The glory that was always present, though always concealed. The glory that may be seen by the light of faith.

Remember when Jesus told Nathaniel that he would see greater sights? When he told him he would see angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man? Here Peter, James, and John see those sights. They see that Jesus is not God underneath, but that this Jesus is God. And we may see as well. We may see in the rags the source of our healing, and in his flesh our salvation. 

It is this Jesus, and no other, who is our hope. And contrary to all appearances, he is Lord. If we but have the eyes that see and the ears that hear. God desires to give the eyes and ears we need to all of us, who call on his name, believe in his word, and accept the coming of the Kingdom and repent.