For Freedom Christ Has Set Us Free -- FPC sermon excerpt

“For freedom Christ has set us free” (Galatians 5:1). What a good line to ponder as we get ready for Independence Day picnics and parades.

My colleague Phillip Dennis called the children of his church forward for the children’s sermon one Sunday. It was a day like today, the Sunday before July 4th, so he told them about freedom in the United States and, more importantly, our freedom in Christ. One boy exclaimed, “I’m free!” and Dennis agreed with him.

Not to be outdone, another boy proudly announced, “I’m four!”

So we laugh about being free, but we need to watch out. Freedom is not just a good idea — it can be as explosive as a Fourth of July firecracker.

I recently read about a surprising study (The Washington Post, September 14, 2006): Two economists have discovered that the freedom to shop on Sundays contributes significantly to wicked behavior. And the people most affected are the ones who are the most religious.

Jonathan Gruber and Daniel Hungerman have studied what happens when states repeal “blue laws” — statutes that prohibit the Sunday sale of nonessential items such as jewelry, liquor and cigarettes. They have found that church attendance declines when stores are open on Sundays, while drinking and drug use increases. Most striking is that the biggest change in bad behavior mostly occurs among those who frequently attend religious services.

Before the shopping ban was lifted, 37 percent of people attended religious services, at least weekly. But once the stores were open on Sundays, attendance fell to 32 percent. And instead of going to church, many of the faithful are going astray. Marijuana use increases among church attendees, as does cocaine abuse and heavy drinking.

Open the stores, and suddenly Sundays become sinful.

As Americans, we are certainly great lovers of freedom, but it’s time we took a long, hard look at the dark side of independence. Like kids who get their drivers’ licenses and then wrap their cars around trees, or students who go off to college and get wasted in frat houses, we’ve got to learn how to handle the freedom we are given.

What do we do when we suddenly find ourselves without boundaries or constraints? Do we have to sit in front of the television and channel-surf for hours? Yes, I’ve been guilty of that, especially since getting Hi-Def. Do we have to become total party animals, stumbling from regular church attendance into drug and alcohol abuse?

Or, can there be a much more uplifting outcome to being set free from the law?

“For freedom Christ has set us free,” says Paul (5:1). This liberty doesn’t have to result in Sinful Sundays.

I like to think of Paul’s letter to the Galatians as a spiritual Declaration of Independence, because it frees us from Jewish legal obligations and insists that we become right with God only through our faith in Jesus Christ. But Christian liberty is not a license to go crazy. When we are set free from the Jewish law, we are not given permission to do whatever we want. Freedom in Christ is freedom to do what Jesus wants — it is a freedom that says, “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (2:20).

Live Free! -- FPC sermon excerpt

Live Free. Or Die Hard.

That’s the name of the new Bruce Willis movie, hitting theaters later this month. Maybe I can get my son to take me to it, as a Father’s Day present.

Willis will return as wisecracking police officer John McLane in the fourth Die Hard movie, a series that was launched in 1988 and has made more than $700 million over the course of three films. Although you might think that Willis is way past his prime in the action hero department, Sylvester Stallone recently returned to the ring as Rocky Balboa, and Harrison Ford is picking up his whip again as Indiana Jones.

Compared to these guys, 51-year-old Bruce Willis has a lot more action left in him!

In this new movie, Willis will attempt to stop a techno-terrorist who is determined to shut down the nation’s computer systems on the Fourth of July. The threat is much bigger than anything seen in the earlier movies — back then, Willis fought heavily-armed thieves in a Los Angeles skyscraper, battled terrorists in a snowed-in airport, and faced a mad bomber in New York City. This time, a criminal plot is put in place to take down the entire computer structure that supports the economy of the United States — and the world. The villain will be high-tech in this new Die Hard flick, but Willis will offer a low-tech response. In other words, he’ll use his fists.

The Bruce Willis character “will be doing what he does best,” says the director of the movie — “being a huge pain” to the bad guys.

You might think of the apostle Paul as the Bruce Willis of the New Testament. He follows a “die hard” approach to life, and takes his knocks as a lone hero standing up to the forces of evil. He gets beat up and bloodied, flogged and imprisoned — but he never gives up. “Three times I was beaten with rods,” he tells the Corinthians. “Once I received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked. [I faced] danger from rivers, danger from bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers and sisters” (2 Corinthians 11:25-26).

He’s determined to live free. Or die hard.

Like the Bruce Willis action hero, the apostle Paul has some skeletons in his closet. The first Die Hard movie begins with Willis fighting with his estranged wife over the details of their separation. In a similar way, today’s passage from Galatians starts with Paul admitting that his own personal past is anything but perfect. “I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it,” he admits, as he looks back (Galatians 1:13). “I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors” (v. 14). In his zeal, Paul breathed threats against the members of the Christian church, and set off for the city of Damascus to capture any Christians who might be there.

But on that trip, God reveals his son Jesus to Paul, and calls him to proclaim Christ among the non-Jews of the world, the Gentiles (v. 16). This conversion launches Paul’s career as a Christian action hero, and he spreads the gospel on a number of missionary adventures. “I did not confer with any human being,” he tells the Galatians, “nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus” (vv. 16-17).

Paul seems determined to play the Bruce Willis role: One man against the world.

After three years, he goes to Jerusalem to visit Peter and James, the brother of Jesus. But then he ventures into the regions of Syria and Cilicia, where he is unknown except by his reputation. The Christians there heard it said, “The one who formerly was persecuting us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy.” And they glorified God because of him (vv. 18-24).

Paul delivers a message that is as surprising as anything in a Die Hard movie. He says that he cannot be made right with God through works of the law — only faith in Christ will do that. He says that he is now dead to the law, and alive to God through his relationship with Jesus. “I have been crucified with Christ,” he writes to the Galatians; “and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (2:15-20).

Paul is insisting that he has already died — he has been crucified with Christ. But after losing his old life, he has been given a new one. Christ now lives in him, and Paul finds himself living by faith in the Son of God, the one who loved him and gave himself for him.

Paul has died hard — and now he lives free.

Gathering at the Water -- FPC sermon

We are entering the season for vacations, and next month my family and I will be taking a week of vacation and going on a cruise. We won’t be gathering at the water, we’ll be cruising across the water. And this reminds me of a story.

There was a cruise ship that passed a small island on its annual voyage. From the deck of the ship, everyone saw a thin bearded man on the island, shouting and desperately waving his hands.

“Who is it on that island?” a passenger asked the captain.

“I have no idea,” said the captain. “But every year when we pass, he goes nuts.”

At Fairfax Presbyterian Church, our focus is on hospitality. We don’t want to cruise by any deserted islands and leave anybody stranded. We want to welcome everyone who has come to this place, and make sure that everyone is included in our worship, in our fun, and in our food.

This is the same approach that Jesus takes when he sees a large crowd gathered at the water, at the side of the Sea of Galilee. Aware of the hunger of this crowd, Jesus directs a question to one of his disciples named Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” Jesus wants to be hospitable to the people of this crowd, and meet their needs.

Philip, however, sees the size of the crowd and the enormity of the challenge of feeding so many people. He says to Jesus, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little” (v. 7). Philip is a realist — he knows they don’t have enough money to provide a feast, and don’t even have enough to provide each person with a snack.

From a human point of view, there is not enough to go around. But from God’s point of view, there is always enough. Philip looks around and sees scarcity, while Jesus looks around and sees abundance.

The story continues with the disciple Andrew saying to Jesus, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.” In the original Greek of the New Testament, Andrew says that it is not just a “boy” with two “fish,” but a “little boy” with two “small fish.” Andrew also sees the scarcity of their resources, and asks, “But what are they among so many people?” (v. 9). Clearly, five loaves and two small fish are worthless tokens — hardly enough to feed five thousand people.

But Jesus refuses to look at the situation from a human point of view. He sees everything from God’s point of view, and sees tremendous abundance when he looks out over the crowd.

“Make the people sit down,” Jesus says to his disciples (v. 10). Once again, our English translation fails to capture what Jesus really says. In Greek, Jesus says, “Make the people recline” — a word that is used again later in the Last Supper (cf. 13:23, 25). Then Jesus takes the loaves, gives thanks, and distributes them to those who are reclining, and he does the same with the fish, giving them “as much as they wanted” (v. 11). Notice the abundance here — Jesus gives not just a little bit for each, but as much as they wanted. This is such a filling feast that everyone is satisfied, and after the people are finished, the disciples fill twelve large baskets with leftovers.

What is going on in this story of the feeding of the five thousand? What has really happened as people have gathered at the water?

Some see this as a miracle of human sharing. It could be that the five thousand people came to the Sea of Galilee with food tucked inside their clothing, hidden away in for personal use. But when Jesus showed such hospitality and concern for each and every person, they opened their secret stashes and shared what they had with each other. In much the same way, we each have resources that we can draw on to meet the needs around us — if only we are inspired to share.

Others see this as a miracle of divine provision. This story teaches that the Lord really does provide for us, if only we will put our faith in him. You can imagine that the people in the crowd were curious about Jesus, and maybe a little suspicious of his agenda. They might have wondered what he was up to, questioning whether or not he really cared for them. Then he tells them to recline and rest and be refreshed. He takes the bread, gives thanks to God, and distributes it until all are filled. The message is that Jesus loves us and wants to meet our needs — all he asks is that we trust him and follow him.

Both of these understandings are true for us today, as we gather at the water. Our life together can be a miracle of human sharing as we draw on our personal resources to meet the needs around us. Our life together can also be a miracle of divine provision, as we put our faith in Jesus, and trust him to meet our needs. Jesus really does love us and want to feed us — physically and spiritually. This happens every time we receive the nourishment of Jesus in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

The good news for today is that we worship a God of abundance, and his son Jesus has come to give us what we need for life. We do not have to be like that poor man on the desert island, going nuts as his chance for salvation passes by again and again. Our Lord has come to save us, to provide for us, and gather us together as a community.

Let us feel God’s love, as we receive his wonderful gifts.

Theophilia -- FPC sermon excerpt

There are times when it is hard to feel the presence of God.

It can happen when a young man dies suddenly and unexpectedly. Or even when a 75-year-old passes away, leaving a hole in a congregation, and in a family. When we are feeling such grief, God’s presence can be hard to sense.

At other times, we simply crowd God out. We focus so much on our computers, video games, and big-screen televisions that we cannot see what God is doing.

I recently read an interesting story about a drop in visits to the national parks. From the years 1930 to 1987, park visits grew steadily. Then, over the next 16 years, visitation dropped by 25 percent — a serious and significant decline.

Why was this? A couple of researchers have determined that most of the drop was due to the ever-increasing time we are spending surfing the Internet, playing video games, and watching movies and television shows. In the year 2003, the average American was spending 327 more hours in front of the screen than he was 16 years earlier.

That’s a huge jump in tube time — almost an hour a day.

The Washington Post (July 5, 2006) reports that these researchers have coined a term for this increased screen time: Videophilia. It’s a good word, one that literally means “love of video.” The Greek word philos means love, giving rise to English words such as philanthropy (love of mankind), philosophy (love of wisdom), and Francophilia (love of all things French).

Videophilia, according to these researchers, is “the new human tendency to focus on sedentary activities involving electronic media.” Video games, television shows, DVDs, email, IMs, and the World Wide Web are all screen-based sedentary attractions, and they are sucking up an increasing amount of our time.

The problem is, if you’re spending an extra hour a day in front of a computer or television, you’re not spending that time out of doors. And if you’re not out of doors, you’re not in a national park. Videophilia may be weakening our bonds with our national parks, and reducing our passion to preserve them.

Videophilia may also be hurting out ability to sense the presence of God. The time we spend staring at our screens may be distracting us from the most important love of all: Theophilia. That is, quite simply, “love of God.”

Without Theophilia at the very center of life, it is hard to see what God is doing.