New Wine

Biblical Text: : Acts 2:1-21

The day on the church calendar is Pentecost, which is the 3rd most important church festival after Christmas and Easter. Although Pentecost is kinda the Rodney Dangerfield of Church festivals. It gets no respect. Although it does get the great and rare liturgical color of Red.

Wine, even the phrase “new wine” is an important image in the Bible. That phrase “new wine” is used by some in the crowd on the first Pentecost to describe what is happening right in front of their eyes. The scoffers say the disciples are “full of New Wine.” Now that claim in absolutely false in the what that they mean it, that the disciples are drunk. But they are “full of New Wine” in a divine way. The Spirit of Christ has descended upon them. The promised power from on high. This sermon meditates on what that means. It spends some time thinking about ways that claims about new wine might be abused – in line with how the Old Testament prophets could talk. It also seeks to define – in line with Peter’s Pentecost sermon quoting one of those prophets – what the actions of the Spirit, the New Wine in proper use, does.

How do you recognize the “New Wine?” It is for everyone. It allows all to understand the Word of God. And it testifies the apocalyptic reality that God is making you new, and will bring that to completion. When you see these things, you are seeing the New Wine in action.

Come As You Are?

Mt. Zion, specifically the Choir, received a wonderful gift. Today, on Pentecost Sunday, we are blessing and putting into first use new choir robes sponsored by a generous gift.  On such an occasion it is worth thinking about the bare facts of worship and presentation.

The prevailing ethos of our day might be summed up as “come as you are.” I’ve heard on more than one occasion in my life some form of “God doesn’t care what you look like, he cares that you are present.”  And if I’m ascribing the best construction to such thoughts they come from places like Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman at the well who was very concerned about proper worship.  “Our fathers worshipped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place people ought to worship…(John 4:20)”.  And we normally skip to the later part of Jesus’ response, “the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in Spirit and Truth (John 4:23).”  The hymn Just As I Am, without one plea, captures something true about worship.  God doesn’t need anything from us.  He doesn’t “eat” our sacrifices.  He doesn’t exist off of our devotion. He doesn’t need fancy vestments.  And Jesus on more than one occasion would mock the pharisees for their like of “long robes (Mark 12:38).”  The worship that God’s desires – especially on Pentecost – is that in Sprit and Truth.

But the ethos of our day usually takes this much too far. It usually takes it to one of three assertions.

  1. When something wonderful is done for Jesus – like anointing him with costly myrrh (Matthew 26) – there is a tut tut that “this large sum could have been given to the poor.” 
  2. That God does not really care about the form of worship
  3. And ultimately “come as you are” ends with a statement like “God accepts you just as you are.”

It should give anyone pause using the first of these arguments that the bible tells us this was Judas’ argument (John 12:4).  But Jesus’ response comes in two forms. First, “she has done a beautiful thing to me.” Nothing done for God is truly lost.  And beautiful things have ways of reminding us that this is our Father’s world and He cares for it deeply.  Deeply enough that he so clothes the lilies of field that are here today and gone tomorrow. We cannot equal the lilies, but copying the Father is never a bad thing.  Jesus’ second response is “the poor you will have with you always.” This is not a dismissal of the ethical demands of charity, but a recognition that ethics – how you live – is subservient to belief.  That when the God you believe in is present, that takes priority.  Mary chose the greater part (Luke 10:42).

The second assertion is what Exodus 28, for that matter Exodus 25 through the end of Leviticus, should give us pause. God in painstaking detail in those chapters and books tells Israel exactly how they are to worship.  Right down to the garments of the priests. We cannot say that God does not care.  There is even a parable about showing up to the wedding feast without a wedding garment. The problem that the ethos of our day was reacting against was taking such things as a law.  If you did not or could not worship in this way your worship was invalid.  That would break what Jesus said to the Samaritan woman.  But it also went too far in not hearing what Jesus first said to her, “You worship what you do not know, we Jews worship what we do know.” God went into painstaking detail about worship so that we might know him.  Vestments and beautiful things in worship are not about us.  We come as we are without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me. These things point to the God whose first work post sin was to cover Adam and Eve in better clothes.  And who ultimately gave us the robe of Christ’s righteousness.

Those earlier assertions all lead to that last one, which really is the natural religion of the day. The logic is something like God made all things.  God is a good guy.  Therefore God accepts us as we were made.  He accepts us just as we are.  There are many problems with this, but I will limit myself.  What God made was good, and we broke it with our sin.  The “good guy” doesn’t accept us as we are, he offers us absolution in Christ. He invites us into the divine life.  Not to stay as we are, but to kill the old Adam and arise in before God is newness of life. Life in the Spirit is one of being conformed to the likeness of Christ. “We shall all be changed (1 Corinthians 15:51).”

We are putting something beautiful into the service of God.  The worship of Spirit and Truth acknowledges the gifts God freely gives.

Times of Transition (Liminal Times)

Biblical Text: Acts 1:12-26

The original idea for this sermon came from the strange day on the liturgical calendar – Easter 7. It is past Ascension Day, so Jesus is no longer with the disciples in the flesh. But it is not yet Pentecost where the Spirit comes and empowers the work. What do you do when one chapter has closed, but another has not yet opened? That is what this sermon is about reflecting on the passage in Acts in this time of transition.

Following the Apostles there are three things. The first is to close one chapter and prepare for the next. There are a bunch of things that travel under closing a chapter and the sermon meditates on those a bit. By preparing for the next it is largely the work of keeping the eyes open for things that will need to be done and people entering life. The second thing is to be constant in the Word. This is how we seek the face of God who will open that next chapter. The final thing might be the toughest, but the most necessary. Walk out in faith. You don’t get to live in the transition time, although we often try. You have to move in faith into what God has prepared.

Ascension Day Guilt

I swear every year I’m going to do something, and every year Ascension Day sneaks up on me and zooms by.  It was May 29th, last Thursday. I suppose I could always cheat and just make the nearest Sunday Ascension Day (Observed), but I always hate moving actual days like that.  The Ascension is 40 days after easter.  Pentecost is 50 days after. Compared to All Saints which is always November 1st, but there is nothing else that connects it to that date. So what I end up doing is reflecting it in the Hymns.  The Ascension is Crowning Day – Crown Him with Many Crowns.  It is the Day he was “seated at the right hand of the Father” so Christ the Eternal Lord.

A theologian I listen to made me think a little more this year about why I keep missing Ascension Day.  Although I think her first take was a little off.  There are three accounts of the Ascension in the Bible.  The first two are both by Luke, one at the end of his gospel and the other at the start of Acts. If you think of Luke-Acts as volume 1 and volume 2 of a story, it makes sense to retell the ending. And in Luke’s telling Jesus just kinda drifts up.  Hence you get icons and images of the ascension with nothing but Jesus’ feet showing. Which in this theologian’s telling is kinda silly.  And I guess it is, but that type of thing has rarely bothered me. Superman Jesus is amusing, but really, how are you going to visually depict a spiritual event?  As Ender knew, the enemy is always down, and heaven is always up.  The third image of the Ascension is in the book of Revelation.  It never calls it that, but I’m pretty sure that is what it is.  All Heaven is in a sad state because nobody can ascend to the throne and read a scroll.  But then the lamb, like one who was slain, appears and is seated and proceeds to open the scroll. (Revelation 5).  Maybe a little like my theologian’s embarrassment at those feet, being a good American I don’t know what to do with an actual – as opposed to a metaphorical – enthronement.  I’m fine with the imagery of crowns, but an actual crown?  Americans of my generation can still sing along with Schoolhouse Rock “No More Kings”.

The second embarrassment of emphasizing “seated at the right hand of the Father” is that we think of Kings as having all authority. “Blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever” all of heaven sings.  But what happens when the enthroned lamb starts opening the scroll?  All hell breaks loose – 4 horsemen, and saints asking “how long?” and earthquakes and blood and people calling for mountains to fall on them.  When God is on his throne, all is supposed to be well.  But it is not.

But where do I get that “all is supposed to be well” from?  Where does my image of a King with all authority meaning peace come from?  It certainly isn’t from the experience of Kings in this world.  Even the Sun King of France had his problems.  And the biblical picture of the newly enthroned Son King is of the damage Satan thrown out of Heaven is wreaking upon the earth. “All will be well” is the promise at the end of the story. As my favorite Christmas hymn tells it, “All idols then shall perish and Satan’s lying cease, and Christ shall raise his scepter, decreeing endless peace.” But today? Today the din of battle, the next the victor’s song.

What Ascension means is at long last the return of the King.  The correct person is upon the throne. We probably all have experienced following the wrong person.  The despair that can overcome.  The rats seeking to flee the ship.  The second guessing.  And because Christ has chosen to work in this world through the Spirit and through the church we might have plenty of second guessing.  But maybe that is because we are called to faith.  Not necessarily faith that all will be well here and now, or that all leadership even is good.  But faith that God is working all things for the good of his people.  Faith that because Christ is ascended, what we attempt will not be doomed.  That nothing done for Christ is ever lost.

Ask

Biblical Text: John 16:23-33

On our current calendar it was the 6th Sunday in Easter. The old calendar used to call is Rogate, which is Latin for ask or even beg. The gospel lesson for the day, centering around Jesus saying “ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be complete,” has been the text since at least the 8th century. This sermon opens with a bit of memory about older forms of congregational collective asking. Both practical asking and spiritual asking. And then it transitions into a meditation on prayer – the way we ask. It is cribbing from Luther’s postil sermon for this day where he holds there are five necessities to prayer: promise, faith, specificity, soul need, and the name of Christ. You find 4 of those easily in the text. It is that soul need that is an interesting add by Luther. It is not that I disagree with the great man. (I better not, I just preached it.) But soul need as I hope the sermon makes clear, is the difference between my wishing and my praying. I wish a lot of things, but are they the deep needs of my soul? If they are not, they are not prayer. And it is prayer that Jesus promises is heard. Ask. Ask and you will receive. And you joy will be made full.

In This Name, You Shall Conquer

The past week had two days that are worth commenting upon.  May 20th in the year 325 AD the council of Nicaea was convened. That is the council that produced the Nicene creed that we say in church on and off with the Apostle’s creed. This year, 2025 is the 1700 anniversary of that event. May 21st happens to be the veneration day of Saint Constantine who played an important role in that council  – if not the role that Dan Brown and 1000 conspiracy theories have him play.

Starting with Constantine himself, his mother St. Helena, was the original Christian. She was the concubine of Constantine’s father who was the Roman nobleman and eventually the inheritor of one fourth of the Roman empire in the Emperor Diocletian’s succession plan. Technically he got the worst part, the far west including Britain. His father dies relatively early and Constantine becomes his replacement. And rather like the Biblical David, his life is one of warfare consolidating the Empire. In 312 AD, before the climatic battle of the Milvian Bridge, Constantine had a vision. Eusebius the church historian records that he saw the “Chi-Rho” which is the first two letters of the name of Christ.  The vision told him “In this name, you shall conquer.” He had it painted on all his standards the next day and he did win becoming Emperor of the entire empire. In 314 AD he would issue the Edict of Milan which made Christianity legal in the empire for the first time. Maybe the biggest benefit of this was that churches could now own public space.  Constantine’s mother would proceed to sponsor the building of the original edifices of most of the famous churches from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem to Old St. Peter’s in Rome.

The seed bed of the conspiracy theories comes from Constantine’s role in starting the Council of Nicea.  He convened the council of Bishops from all over the Empire. Early Christianity had two ongoing doctrinal disagreements.  The first was about the nature of God and the second very close about the nature of Christ. It really came down to the question of how did Jesus participate in the Godhood. One camp headed by a man called Arius held that “there was a time when Christ was not.” The godhood of Christ was derivative of the Father. The orthodox camp held what we find in the Nicene Creed – “begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father.”  The conspiracy theories operate much like any reporting on religion in our press today.  Doctrine or religion isn’t a real thing. Politics is the only real thing. So the Nicene creed and the entire council were just an assertion of political power by the consolidating Emperor Constantine who was looking for a faith to unite the empire behind his elevated rule.

But just like our modern day journalists who don’t “get religion” and so view it only through the lens of politics, anyone who does get it could tell you betting on Christianity to unite a political movement is a losing bet. From stories of St. Nicholas (yes, Santa Claus) punching Arius at Nicaea to the 300 plus year aftermath, as the hymn says the church is almost always “by schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed.” Politicians in every age may try to make the faith utilitarian, but Christ himself is on the throne and such plans quickly come to nothing. But the creed – the symbol of the faith – is still in use 1700 years later.

The world we live in is a messy one. Its politics are pluralistic. Much like Constantine managing Pagans, Christians, Jews and every other form in the broad empire.  And Satan still has his sway on this old earth.  The church’s judgement of Constantine has long been contrary to a reductionist power politics view only.  Jesus promised that the Spirit would lead his followers into all truth. And as any Christian would probably tell you the paths of the Spirit are often quite surprising.  The church’s judgement has long been that God used the rule of Constantine to end the on and off Roman persecutions of his people. To gather the bishops together to make the formal statement of the faith that has stood for 1700 years. To build spaces of worship still in use today.  And ultimately to allow the further proclamation of the gospel as the 300 – 600’s AD would not just Christianize the empire, but also well beyond its borders. Constantine may have thought the conquest would be his by means of arms.  And on that one specific day it was.  But the larger conquest was of hearts.  “In this name – the name of Christ – you shall conquer.”    

The One About a Three Legged Pig

Biblical Text: Acts 11:1-18; (Revelation 21:1-7)

The text of the sermon is largely Peter’s vision of the heavenly tablecloth descending which ended up at Gentile Pentecost. It’s a story about ceremonial laws – clean and unclean – and how they play no role in the Kingod of God. Now most of us probably don’t think we have ceremonial laws which is crazy. Because we are constantly making clean and unclean distinctions. And constantly making new ones. They are much easier to render judgement upon. What this sermon does is two things. It attempts to teach some distinctions in the law: moral, civil and ceremonial. And then it proclaims like Jesus to Peter, “what God has made clean, do not call common.” For God made all things good. And Christ is remaking all things. Our clean and unclean distinctions, our ceremonial laws, better not get in the way of the Work of God.

A Thought on Travel

“Wherever you go, there you are.”  I tend to think about that aphorism anytime I have to travel. For some reason I couldn’t remember where it comes from this time, so I made the mistake of googling it. It appears that there has been a popular book by that name recently. So, all the current links google served up were from some Western Buddhist wannabe. But the original place I remember it from is Thomas A Kempis in his “The Imitation of Christ.” His larger context was The Cross.

“No one is so touched with a heartfelt sense of the Passion of Christ, as the man whose lot it has been to suffer like things. The cross, then, is always at hand, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, run where you will; for wherever you go, you take yourself with you, and you will always find yourself.”

A more modern translation of that runs:

“So, the cross is always ready and waits for you everywhere. You cannot escape it no matter where you run, for wherever you go you are burdened with yourself. Wherever you go, there you are.”

I usually hate travel.  Unless I’m going to some all inclusive beach resort, the effort and expense of travel just never seem worth it. I’m not unmoved by the Romance of it. I’d love to go to Constantinople. The problem is that Constantinople doesn’t exist.  And even Istanbul doesn’t exist as it is in my conception. I’m convinced that travel is on so many people’s lists of dreams to do because they are running from the cross. They have bought into the simple Jimmy Buffet transaction – Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude – without contemplating He Went to Paris, or even better “Hell, it could be my fault.” We think we can run away from the cross.  Yet wherever we go, there we are. Whatever we thought we were escaping, we bring it with us. But what is it we bring?

When Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me (Mark 8:34),” we often take this as a call to some form of the ascetic life. We look at the cross as doing something that our authentic selves does not want. But that is the way to works righteousness, or maybe even worse, to the perennial martyr. What it really means is crucifying the Old Adam. It means mortifying the sin that lives within our members. For it is only then that we meet our true self.  For Jesus’ invitation is followed by the saying, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. (Mk. 8:35 ESV)”  We can travel around the world sucking the morrow out of life, and we shall lose it. For wherever we go, we are like poor Marley’s ghost, adding links to the chain of who we think we are.

But wherever we are, at whatever age, or place or spin of fortune’s wheel, there is a cross. Christ chose the cross.  He set his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). And it is only through the cross that the true Christ was shown.  “This man is the son of God (Mark 15:39).” It is in picking up our cross that we for the first time know who we are. Who is the person we have stopped running from?  What have we accepted as the call of love in our lives?

Wherever we go, we are burdened by our sinful nature. It used to be standard reading – Pilgrim’s Progress.  The initial picture of Christian on his pilgrimage is carrying this heavy bag.  And he thinks that bag is everything. It is only at the cross that the bag falls off and Christian knows himself. His pilgrimage is just beginning.  His travels are extensive. But from that point on it is himself.  And his walk is heavenward all the way. We imitate Christ when embrace the cross, when we attempt to live the call of love in our lives and stop running from it.

153 Large Fish

Biblical Text: John 21:1-19

I think this is about calling. And for me I’d take it as calling in the broad sense. We all know there are things that we should be doing. And the very bedrock it is answering the question who am I? and whose am I? If we answer those calling then is being true to ourselves. The text is the contradiction of what happens when we ignore the calling (nothing) and what happens when we follow it (the grace of God.) It is also about things that stand in the way. Sometimes those are small things, like being hungry. Sometime those are huge things, like betrayal. This sermon is a meditation the weaves back and forth between Peter and the disciples and ourselves and how we deal with calling and the things that get in the way. And how Christ helps in all these things.

Recording note: the first 15 secs of the actual sermon sound bad. My microphone was muted at the board. So I amplified the ambient recording. After 15 secs the mute was taken off and it sounds much better.

Trusting Providence

We are reading through Genesis in the Wednesday bible study. Only slightly tongue in cheek I shared that the rest of the bible is footnote to Genesis. It is all there in the beginning. Yes, the entire history of Isreal, and then Jesus, and the church, certain fill things out.  But one of the New Testament’s favorite words is to be made full – “When the time was fulfilled…that the scriptures might be fulfilled.” (You can look up that word fulfilled in your concordance and see all it’s uses.) The mental picture of the word is that the form is already present like a pitcher or a jug or 40 gallon vat of water.  Events fill it up or even change the water into wine. The form is fulfilled, made full. Genesis is the empty 40 gallon vat. And it all fits in the there.

As part of that form, there is a funny little story in Genesis 12:10-20. Most interpreters pick up on the Exodus parallels.  Going into Egypt because of a famine.  Plagues. The plunder when leaving. All of which are fulfilled.  But in the midst of that I think there is something better to ponder with Abram. In the immediate prior verses, God has made his covenant with Abram.  And it is that covenant of pure grace and promise.  “Go…I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed (Genesis 12:1-3).”  If the covenant with Noah was the promise of temporal providence – “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease (Gen 8:22)”  – this is the promise of eternal providence.

And immediately comes the test. “Now there was famine in the land. So Abram went down to Egypt. (Gen 12:10).” Now one of the things we have to understand about Abram is that he is a very rich man.  He has a full household.  He has herds and flocks and slaves and everything.  So when Abram goes to Egypt, a symbol for the world, he is dealt with by Pharoah as an equal. So does Abram deal with Pharoah out of faith in the providence of God, or does Abram try and deal with Pharoah on worldly terms?  If you know the story, or if you just know human nature, you know Abram immediately defaults to worldly terms.  He tells his wife Sarai to say she is his sister.  He passes Sarai over to Pharoah as part of a treaty. And Abram, already a rich man, receives everything that world can give. “And for her sake [Pharoah] dealt well with Abram; and he had sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male servants, female servants, female donkeys, and camels.”

It’s a repeating pattern with Abram.  He believes the promise, but he’s always trying to figure out how he can speed God up, or how he can help God fulfill the promise. It’s a repeating pattern with us. It is not that we don’t believe God’s providence.  We just have trouble seeing His time and His ways. And living in the midst of the Egypt – in the midst of the world – we are always trying to cut deals to help God out.  The problem is that our deals with the world are the equivalent of giving our wife to Pharoah’s harem. We hand over the one through whom the offspring is promised to those who would mistreat her. We might get everything the world offers, but we’ve given up the pearl of great price.

The good news is that with signs and wonders – the plagues here, eventually the God-man who takes the plague of the cross upon himself – God still provides.  His covenant with us in Jesus doesn’t depend upon our perfection.  It is not upon us to make it full. God fulfills it. He has fulfilled it in Jesus, and he is at work fulfilling it in you.

The next time we find ourselves deep in negotiation with the world, pause for a second. Do we need what the world is offering? What are we giving in exchange for it? Has not God promised us “everything we need to support this body and life?” It might feel like a famine, even to a rich man with herds like Abram. But is our deliverance truly in Egypt?