When the Curse is No Longer Found
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Gospel Essentials 4
The Fourth Sermon of Gospel Essential based on 2 Timothy 1:3-10
Everybody in this life fits somewhere neatly on a spectrum when it comes to their relationships. They're either too tender or too tough. They either tend to run people over or get run over by them. Where does God want us to fit on the spectrum? And how do we become more of that in our relationships for him? Listen in to find out how to apply the gospel in relationships.
Gospel Essentials 3
The Third Sermon of Gospel Essentials based on 1 Timothy 6:6-16
Paul wanted Timothy to preach. He even puts him under oath in view of God and Christ's second coming to encourage him to do it. Why? Why was he so adamant about it? Why should you connect yourself to preaching? Here's why. Listen in.
Giving to the Takers
Philippians 2:5-11
Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
If you were watching the headlines on Wednesday, you noticed it was a pretty grisly day. You woke up to read that Oscar Pistorius had taken the stand in the “trial of the decade.” And it wasn’t pretty. In fact, the court had to adjoin early on two consecutive days because of Oscar’s highly emotional testimony as he described his girlfriend, Reeva, dying in his arms. The next story was no better, “Obama to Return to Fort Hood to Mourn after a Shooting.” And if you’re like me, you said to yourself in a mixture of anger and sadness, “Not again!”
As if to underscore that point, I opened up my browser to a new tab later in the day. And perhaps by now you already know what I saw there. More breaking news. “School Stabbing Spree,” the headline read. I worriedly read the story and listened to a couple of interviews. It’s difficult to hear that a high school student walked through his school randomly stabbing and/or slashing 20 different people. So, yeah, like I said Wednesday was a grisly day.
I don’t tell you this because I want to lose you with the gore. I’m telling you this because we can so easily let these tragedies blind us to the deeper more entrenched tragedy that’s going on. In other words, we can ask, “What’s so wrong with them?” When the real question we should be asking is, “What’s wrong with me?” Jesus taught us this. He taught us that national tragedies like the ones I mentioned are always important spiritual opportunities to ask ourselves that key question. Today we want to seize the moment and see what these headlines teach us in light of Philippians 2.
Now I can guess what you’re thinking. “Philippians doesn’t have any dark themes like the ones you just mentioned. Don’t I remember learning that Philippians is sort of a thank you letter? Isn’t it that letter where Paul is so happy and joyful? Isn’t that the book where Paul uses the word “joy” 16 times in just four short chapters?” And, yes, if you’re thinking that you’re right. Philippians is that book. It’s a letter to a church that is gospel centered, loving, energetic, generous, and full of life and joy. Philippians is one of those churches that anybody would want to be a part of.
And that’s what makes Philippians the perfect place to stare a reality in the face. Even in a place that is gospel centered, loving, energetic, generous, and full of life and joy, tragedy has still staked its dark flag. What tragedy am I talking about? The same tragedy that underwrote what happened at Fort Hood and sent 20 people to the hospital in Pennsylvania... the tragedy that makes people want what they what without regard for God or others. That’s the tragedy underneath everything, the tragedy of human selfishness.
Yes, it's in our souls too. Like I said before, we can’t let Fort Hood put us off the scent or Pennsylvania teach us that we’re somehow fundamentally different. Selfishness is in us too. Most of the time it just shows up in a different way. That’s what we can learn from the Philippians, a people who not only share our natures but also our beliefs. Truth be told, there's nothing surprising about what we learn. Selfishness rears its head exactly how we might guess it might. It finds ways to express itself in the normal, everyday, mundane relationships we have with others.
How do I know that? Listen to what Paul wrote to them, “Make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. (v. 2-3)” Now do the math. Why did Paul need to say stuff like that to them? The Philippians were well-behaved folks. Why would Paul have to remind them to be one in spirit and purpose? What’s the implication of that? There was something in them that “wants what it wants.” Or take another section of those verses. Why does Paul have to reinforce with people who worked hard to be good to consider others better than yourself? There was something in them that said, “No, I am better and more important than others.”
And, sometimes, that selfish undercurrent makes itself known. Euodia and Syntyche are prime examples of this. Phenomenal women. They worked their tails off with Paul for the gospel we are told in Philippians. Both of them are also in heaven. How do I know this? Because it says so in the Bible. Paul wrote and I’m quoting, “... whose names are in the book of life. (Philippians 4:3)” And, yet, the human tragedy of selfishness was still not quite dead in them at that time. Paul also wrote this to them, “I plead with Euodia and with Syntyche to agree with each other in the Lord. (Philippians 4:2)” Tell me that’s not a fascinating line. Wouldn’t you love to know what caused Paul to write that? What caused a couple of wonderful Christian women who were on their way to heaven to duke it out over some thing like a couple of barnyard hens?
I’m actually pretty thankful we don’t know because it allows us to fill in that blank. It should tell us something about ourselves that it’s not hard for us to do that. Maybe you’ve even got three in your head right now like I do. He’s thinks it’s a discussion about her spendy impulses. She thinks about his need for control. One voter thinks the church budget is a little spendy. Another thinks people are being too stingy. Grandma thinks the grandkids need more consistent discipline. Mom thinks she’s doing it just about right. And, finally, at the end of the day as the discussions played out nobody was really listening or honoring the other. Everybody just wanted what they wanted. Chock it up to our, old, ingrained, inherited original sin that is just otherwise known as plain old selfishness. There it is in the normal, mundane, everyday, Euodia and Syntyche moments of life.
Ironically as I was writing this sermon, I embodied this. I walked down from the office area of our house to take a break. Naturally, I wanted to see my family. So, unthinkingly, I snapped for the dog and stomped right into Elliana’s room… only to wake her up from her afternoon nap. Not good - for Elliana, or Melanie. Melanie said to me - as only a wife can with one of those devastating smiles on her face - “make better decisions if you want to be friends.” Yes, I have proven even through my thoughtlessness that selfishness has a stake in my soul. If the Bible's right, I’m not the only one.
It’s into the very mundane, normal, everyday, Euodia and Syntyche parts of our lives that God drops the theological equivalent of a divine nuclear weapon. That makes sense, doesn’t it? If the enemy known as selfishness is dug in that deep and is that powerful in our hearts, then God needs the ultimate bunker buster. It’s known as the gospel, the ultimate power of God. It comes here in the text in what most people agree is actually a hymn that first century Christians sang in church. Wow, is it a doozy! I’m telling you. Those first century Christians were no theological slouches when it came to understanding Jesus. This little hymn is still the standard and source for a huge amount of what we understand Jesus to be.
Listen to what the hymn says about Jesus, “Who, being in very nature God… (v. 6)" That’s the starting point of the song. It also happens to the same exact starting point for John’s Gospel if you think about it. All correct belief in Jesus starts with believing that Jesus is the real deal. He is God. He’s always been God. He always will be God. Do you see how that makes Jesus the perfect antithesis to people who are all bent on wanting what they want? This hymn teaches that there is a being who exists around whom the world actually does revolve. The universe and all its galaxies are actually all about him. Think about that. He actually does have right to walk into a room when someone’s asleep. He has the right to tell someone how to use their money (or not). He has the right to control a church budget or tell someone how to discipline their kids. He is the one being who has the right to make everything all about him and here’s the kicker… he wouldn’t be selfish if he did. He’d simply be God.
What does Jesus do with all the rights and privileges of deity? “(He) did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! (v. 6-8)” Probably the last thing I might say at a wake to a young widow with three young children is: I know what you’re feeling. I would stare across that gap of loss and do my best to appreciate it, and probably fail. I just can’t quite comprehend it because I’ve never experienced that kind of loss. That’s what I’m feeling like on a far grander scale as I stare at this verse. How does one possibly capture all the loss that’s here? How does one leave behind the celestial bliss and the perfect sight of God… for this? How does the infinite, life giving, not able to boxed in, fullness of God become - well - this (motion to myself)? How does that same infinite, living giving, Jesus who knows only life and life and life and life allow himself to die? How does one compute that? How does the sinless, pure, holy God allow sin to curse him on a cross? How does one “get” going from the heights of pure celestial bliss to the low of humanity’s deserved hell on the cross? We can’t know. We can only stand back in awe and believe that somehow against all odds the one being who everything is about is only about everyone else.
And then we celebrate not just that that happened, but why it happened. There’s a show on TV right now called Undercover Boss. Have you seen it? The basic idea is that CEO’s take off the suit and tie, vacate the corner office, and take on menial jobs within their companies. And then the journey is documented. Most of the time the CEO’s figure out how to run their companies better and find heroes underneath them. That’s what God did. He left the universe’s corner office, put his glory and power undercover, and became one of us. There’s a key difference though. When he got here, he didn’t find any heroes. He found people who deep down underneath were all takers. That’s why he came. That’s why he allowed all the loss and went to all the trouble he did. He came to give and give and give some more. He came to give the gift that could cover over a world of taking and takers. He came to give the ultimate gift, himself.
We just can’t get enough of that. We need to hear about that giving and that gift. That message has power that trumps what’s contained in a nuclear weapon. We need it to enter our mundane, normal, Euodia and Syntyche moments and take our breath away all over again. It’s why we do Christmas. We want to hear that same gospel again. We want to remember that a baby came who was the ultimate in selflessness. We want to sing that hymn about a baby who, “no crying he makes,” because the selfless Son of God wouldn’t allow himself to be a burden to his parents. It’s why we do Lent. We watch him walk selflessly into the teeth of pain and hurt. It’s why we do Palm Sunday. We watch him climb onto his humble little mount. We watch him ride into a city and into a humanity that would take and take and take from him. And we know and we believe and we celebrate that on that first Palm Sunday the Son of God was on his way not to take from the takers, but to give to them in the most epic and selfless act in human history. I’ll tell you what. I’ll wave a Palm branch to that. I’ll sing a Hosanna too. And I’ll bet you’ll join right in. Amen.
Stop Trying and Start Believing
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
What then shall we say that Abraham, our forefather, discovered in this matter? If, in fact, Abraham was justified by works, he had something to boast about—but not before God. What does the Scripture say? “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.” Now when a man works, his wages are not credited to him as a gift, but as an obligation. However, to the man who does not work but trusts God who justifies the wicked, his faith is credited as righteousness. It was not through law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise that he would be heir of the world, but through the righteousness that comes by faith. For if those who live by law are heirs, faith has no value and the promise is worthless, because law brings wrath. And where there is no law there is no transgression. Therefore, the promise comes by faith, so that it may be by grace and may be guaranteed to all Abraham’s offspring—not only to those who are of the law but also to those who are of the faith of Abraham. He is the father of us all. As it is written: “I have made you a father of many nations.” He is our father in the sight of God, in whom he believed—the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.
Eren Tatari’s sister died at the age of 19. In her grief she asked her best friend what she thought it meant. Her best friend replied, “I am too young to think about it.” That stunning reply taught her something important. She learned, “that people are very skillful in self-deception and shunning the reality of their own death.” Then she went on to point out something very important about us. She said, “Yet, regardless of our age, gender, culture, religion, or socioeconomic status, we all have existential questions that beg answers. Where did I come from? Who am I? Where am I going? We can’t help but ask these questions, and it is literally impossible to shut them off.”
Call them life’s big questions. Call them existential realities that we need to discover. Call them whatever you want to call them. They’re questions we all have and they’re questions to which - as Eren points out - we need answers. It’s one of those big questions that God wants to address today in Romans chapter four. It’s this question: What makes me important? Or to put the question another way: what justifies my existence?
This question is so fundamental that it is the question that all religions attempt to answer. Interestingly all religions answer the question the same way. Except one. Ours. I know that sounds too easy and overly simplistic, but it’s true. An honest analysis proves it. Fundamentally, all major religions answer this question with a man-centered approach. They say, “If you want to be justified, be a better person for God.” And then the different religions lay out precepts and systems for how to do that. If you’re Muslim, you have the five pillars to obey. If you’re Hindu, you reach upwards by following the guidance of the Vedic scriptures.
Which is why when God shares the answer to that question, he proves his case with a fella by the name of Abraham. Think about it. Even in modern times, all three ancient monotheistic (one God) religions claim Abraham as their father: Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. That makes Abraham the ideal choice. He is a person who stands at the crossroads for millions of people as the person who had the right beliefs about justification. He is the one who originally showed us all God’s way. He is our father. He has that kind of credibility with people all over the world. And because Abraham is positioned so beautifully, he becomes God’s go-to guy when it comes to helping people grapple with the truth of justification. Paul asks the question this way: “What then shall we say that Abraham, our forefather, discovered in this matter? (v. 1)” In other words, what did Abraham find justifies a person’s existence? What makes them important and right in God’s eyes?
The Jews thought they knew what Abraham’s answer would be. Their hero. He up and left his homeland because God told him to. He up and circumcised his entire household because God told him to. He prayed rightly and worshipped truly. Abraham did an awful lot of things right and it’s all right there in the Bible in Genesis. They thought Abraham was justified by what he did before God. They saw Abraham saying, “If you want to be justified, it can be done. Work hard. Keep your nose clean and you’ve got it made in the shade.” That was their religious approach to justification.
If you think about it, that’s no different from more modern, secular approaches. There’s a story about an author who was of the starving artist variety. He wrote and nothing seemed to take off for him. He talked about how it depressed him and it made him wonder why he mattered. This is what he concluded, “Then I looked at my two little girls and found out why I exist.” A friend of mine recently went to Phoenix to visit her friend. Her friend is over the age of 70 and can’t quit selling real estate there. She’s incredibly wealthy, but she just can’t quit. Why not? She wouldn’t feel worthwhile anymore. Maybe you remember the classic movie Chariots of Fire. Do you remember what the sprinter said? He said, “When that gun goes off I have ten seconds to justify my existence.”
Do you see what that says about us? There is a reason all religions, but one have it wrong. There is a reason why we can fall into very secular traps of false justification. We are hardwired to rely on our personal virtues, record, or performance for our justification. I can tell myself I’m an ok person if I can get a church started in Aiken. You can believe you’re doing alright because you’re a decent mom, an incredible employee for your company, have beautiful shots of yourself on Instagram, have academic achievements that make Bill Gates look normal, or athletic chops that make people swoon before you. In the end, all of those justifications are all the same. They are part of our hardwired attempt to stake our justification before God and people on our virtue, record, or performance.
And we can’t just write any of this off as a non-issue. What we believe justifies us has huge consequences in our life and on our eternity. Many of you know what happened on Black Tuesday back in 1929. The stock market crashed and people lost billions of dollars of wealth. Poof. Up in smoke. There were people who had built themselves on that money. They believed it justified them, made them important, etc. Then it was all gone on one single day. If you don’t know the history, I’ll bet you can still guess what happened. People who justified themselves with money lost their reason for existence. So what did they do? They jumped out of their skyscraper offices. False justifications devastate us. What happens when someone who builds their life on athletics gets a career ending injury? What happens to someone who builds their justification on being a mom, but then makes a big parenting mistake? And what happens when we get to God’s court in eternity and we tell God, “This is why I matter. I obeyed this system of rules. I am smart. I am good,” or whatever false justification we haul out, and we watch God show us that what we thought justified us is actually the cruelest self-deception and the ultimate house of cards?
There has to be a better justification. And there is. There’s God’s justification. It’s the justification that Abraham discovered and to which Abraham clung. “What does the Scripture say? ‘Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.’ (v. 3)” Abraham didn’t pull a Stuart Smalley. He didn’t wake up in the morning and say, “I am good enough. I am smart enough. And doggonit, people like me.” In fact, what’s stunning, amazing, and totally counterintuitive is that when it comes to Abraham’s justification there is no resume. There is no list. There is no performance record or personal virtue listed. It simply says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited as righteousness.”
God credits righteousness through faith. It’s that simple. What is righteousness? It’s not a word we use too often these days and when we do often it has kind of a negative connotation. Think of righteousness as right standing before God that gives you access to him and his gifts. There’s a club in New York City called the Harvard Club. Who can be a member, network with the powerful people there, and have access to all the privileges there? Harvard grads. Who can be a member of God’s family, have complete access to heaven, and have an audience with the most powerful being in the universe at any time? People who have righteousness. So, yeah, righteousness is nothing short of the most important gift on the planet. It’s right standing with God and membership in the heaven club. And you get it by graduating from God’s school of morality, right? Wrong. God gives it when you trust him for it.
Do you see how counterintuitive this is to us? Imagine if you showed up to a job interview and you said, “I believe you will give me this job and, therefore, you’re going to give it to me.” They’d think you’re a nut. You prove yourself with a resume. Imagine if you showed up to a beauty pageant in street clothes and said, “I believe I will win this competition and, therefore, I will get the crown.” They’d say, “Go and make yourself look pretty.” Or if you showed up to a spelling bee refused to participate and said, “I believe I will win and, therefore, I already have.” We don’t experience anything in life going quite that way. Except in the matter of justification. God comes along and says, “No, seriously. That’s exactly how it works.” “...to the man who does not work but trusts God who justifies the wicked, his faith is credited as righteousness.’ (v. 5)” We trust that God justifies the wicked and, in turn, we are credited as actually being righteous.
That’s the whole story of the gospel. It’s a story of wicked people who stopped trying and started believing that God would have to pull off salvation through the Messiah. Think of how that played out in Abraham’s life. He worried, wondered, and fretted. He caused massive family issues when he tried getting a son through his wife’s maidservant. He even almost messed it all up by pawning off his wife as his sister. Yet through it all he believed. He believed that somehow, someway God would bring salvation through his offspring. He believed that his ninety-year-old wife would have a son. He believed that when the knife was coming down on that miraculous son that God would somehow bring him back to life. Abraham believed that God would pull off his salvation totally through a son of his and that faith was credited to him as righteousness.
That’s the faith that justifies. When we say that God justifies the wicked, we’re not saying that God is making some unilateral decision about us that isn’t backed by salvation history. It’s not like God said, “You know what? I feel like letting people who trust me off the hook so I’m just going to declare it and make it so.” Believing that God makes us righteous is believing that God worked in human history to send one of Abraham’s kids to forgive people and give the entire world righteousness. That’s what Isaac was about for Abraham. He was another link in the chain that finally led to the Messiah. The difference between Abraham and us is that we now know who that Messiah is. Paul explains it like this: “The words ‘it was credited to him’ were written not for him alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. (v. 23, 24)” When we say that we’re trusting God for righteousness, that’s just another way of saying that we believe Jesus’ work is totally ours. His performance, his virtues, his perfect record - all of it is credited to us as our righteousness through faith. That finally is the faith of Abraham. That’s what he believed. That’s what he clung to for his entire life. That’s what justified him forever.
Do you see it? It’s not that you’re to stand before God in eternity without a resume. You’ll have one. It’s not that you won’t have a whole list of achievements. You’ll have them. It’s not that you won’t have a whole bunch of virtues and merits that you can show God to make an ironclad case for why you should be in heaven. You’ll have all of that and they will belong to you. It's just that they will have come from Jesus. It's just that they will have been lived by him and then applied to you as righteousness through faith. Have you ever thought of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John like that? Have you realized that that historical record of Jesus’ moral performance there is your moral performance through faith? Have you ever taken to heart that you get to show up before God and point to Jesus’ love and virtues in those books - his entire earthly record - and make the claim that its yours by divine right through faith. Because that is exactly what this means and that is exactly what we’re saying today. All of Jesus’ righteousness is yours through faith.
There is a wonderful, freeing, and practical application to all of this. It’s this: Stop trying. If you’re on the religious treadmill, step off. It’s exhausting to confess, try harder, confess, try harder, and so on and so on. It’s no less tiring to try to find our reason for existence in some great work or some important role that we have. It’s time to stop trying and it’s time to believe. I heard a story recently of a money manager who finally understood God’s justification. He spoke about it back during the teeth of the Great Recession. You may remember that the stock market tanked and he lost millions and millions of dollars. When that happened he said, “I have never been happier.” He explained why. He said, “Before it was my life. Now it’s just wealth.” God’s justification is the end of trying. It’s the end of trying to make my professionalism, my mothering, my beauty, my smarts, or my morality my crown. It’s time to stop trying and to start believing. It’s time to believe that Jesus truly is my righteousness, my life, and my crown. Amen.