The Last Lecture of Jesus Christ -- FPC sermon excerpt

Keep awake.

That’s one way to summarize the last lecture of Randy Pausch, a professor at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh.

Randy delivered his final lecture in September 2007, after he had been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer — the same cancer that killed my father. He showed a love of life and an approach to death that many people found inspiring, and his lecture turned into a phenomenon, viewed by millions on television and on the Internet. He went on to write a best-selling book with columnist Jeffrey Zaslow titled The Last Lecture, a book about love, courage, and saying good-bye.

On July 25th of this year, Randy succumbed to cancer at the age of 47.

He expected maybe 150 people to attend his last lecture. After all, it was a warm September day, and he assumed that people would have better things to do than attend a final lesson from a dying computer science professor in his 40s. Randy bet a friend $50 that he would never fill the 400-seat auditorium.

Well, Randy lost that bet. The room was packed, and when he arrived on stage he received a standing ovation. He motioned the audience of students and colleagues to sit down. “Make me earn it,” he said.

According to columnist Zaslow of The Wall Street Journal (May 3, 2008 and September 20, 2007), Randy hardly mentioned his cancer in the course of his 70-minute lecture. Instead, he took everyone on a rollicking and riveting journey through the lessons of his life. He talked about the importance of childhood dreams, and the stamina needed to overcome obstacles. “Brick walls are there for a reason,” he insisted, showing slides of the rejection letters he had received over the years. “They let us prove how badly we want things.”

He pushed his audience to show patience toward others, saying, “Wait long enough, and people will surprise and impress you.” He celebrated his mentors and his students with an open heart, and revealed the depth of his love for his family.

Giving a nod to his techie background, Randy showed good humor. “I’ve experienced a deathbed conversion,” he said with a smile. “I just bought a Macintosh.” And wanting to show the crowd that he wasn’t ready to kick the bucket, he dropped to the floor and did one-handed push-ups.

Keep awake. That’s what Randy seemed to be saying as he invited his audience to rethink their ambitions and find new ways to look at other people’s flaws and abilities. Keep awake to what is truly important in life. After showing pictures of his childhood bedroom, marked up with mathematical notations he had drawn on the walls, he said, “If your kids want to paint their bedrooms, as a favor to me, let ‘em do it.”

Keep awake to what really matters. In this case it’s children — not bedroom walls.

After the lecture, Randy’s only plan was to spend his remaining days with his family. But a video of his talk began to spread like a virus across the Web. Randy was soon receiving emails from people around the world, telling him that his lecture had inspired them to spend more time with loved ones, quit pitying themselves, and even resist suicidal urges. Terminally ill people were inspired to embrace their own goodbyes, and have fun with every day they had left.

His last lecture really woke people up.

Then Randy gave part of his talk on “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” and ABC News named him one of its three “Persons of the Year.” People urged him to write a book, which he resisted at first, since he wanted to spend time with his family. But since he needed to exercise, and had to be alone as he rode his bike, he began to use his daily rides as a time to reflect on his lecture, his life, and his dreams for his family.

And so, for an hour each day, he would talk to columnist Zaslow through a cell-phone headset, and over the course of 53 long bike rides he shared the insights that became the book called The Last Lecture.

Keep awake. That’s what Randy Pausch says to us, and what Jesus says as well.

The 13th chapter of Mark contains The Last Lecture of Jesus Christ, given to the disciples during Holy Week — the last week of Jesus’ life. Jesus challenges them to keep awake for his Second Coming, an earth-shaking event which will occur at an undetermined time after his death, resurrection, and ascension. He promises that he will return as the Son of Man, coming in clouds with “great power and glory” to collect his people from the ends of the earth, and bring them into his kingdom (Mark 13:26-27). The danger is that the disciples will miss what really matters, distracted by the many assorted demands and details of day-to-day life. So Jesus says to them, “Keep awake” (v. 37).

What's On Your License? -- FPC sermon excerpt

Once upon a time, license plates simply contained a set of letters and numbers that helped to identify a vehicle. If police officers needed to know the identity of a car owner, they just radioed in the license number.

But there were a lot of people who weren’t satisfied with randomly generated letters and numbers on their plates. They started to request “vanity tags,” which gave them the opportunity to tell the world that they were 2FAST4U or EZ4U2NV.

Then came the specialty license plates. You can now pay extra for a plate that tells the world that you are an animal lover … or a fan of Virginia Tech.

Down in Florida, drivers can order more than 100 specialty license plates that celebrate everything from manatees to the Miami Heat. But last spring a new barrier was crossed: The legislature considered a specialty plate with a design that included a Christian cross, a stained-glass window, and the words “I Believe.”

The plate’s sponsor is a pastor named Edward Bullard, who told the Associated Press (April 24, 2008) that people who “believe in their college or university” or “believe in their football team” already have license plates they can buy. This new design is simply a chance for others to put a tag on their cars with “something they believe in,” he says.

Of course, such a plate runs the risk of blurring the boundary between church and state. One Catholic state representative said that the “I Believe” plate is inappropriate for the government to produce. “It’s not a road I want to go down,” she said, even though she is a regular church-goer. “I don’t want to see the Star of David [or] Torah next. None of that stuff is appropriate to me.”

In fact, the “I Believe” license plate failed to get the blessing of the Florida legislature in April, so you won’t be seeing Christian license plates any time soon. And that is probably just as well, since road rage is bad enough without throwing religious differences into the mix.

But this story does raise an important question: How do we show the world what we believe? How do we make it clear to others that we are followers of Jesus Christ?

The important question for us today is not really, “What’s on your license?” Most of us are happy to remain anonymous, behind random letters and numbers. Instead, the critical question is, “What do you do to show the world that you are follower of Christ?”

Our most convincing statement to others is probably not going to be delivered through a license plate.

In Ephesians 1, Paul begins his message with the words, “I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers” (1:15-16). Paul has heard that the Christians in Ephesus have been showing faith in Jesus and love toward each other, and for this reason alone, Paul is very thankful.

If the Ephesians drove cars, their vanity tags would probably read FTH N JC and LUV S8NTS.

But Paul is not content with the Ephesians having faith in Jesus and love toward one another, the saints of the church. He goes on to say, “I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power” (vv. 17-19).

That’s a complex and jam-packed sentence, but it is clear that Paul wants the Ephesians to continue to grow: Grow in wisdom, in enlightenment, in hope, in spiritual riches, and most of all … in power. This word “power” is used twice in verse 19, and then twice again in the remainder of the passage. This is power that comes to us from Jesus Christ, who has been seated at God’s right hand, “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion” (v. 21).

Paul wants us to know that Jesus Christ has ultimate power, and this is a power that is available to us who believe. God has put all things under Christ’s 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” (v. 22).

Jesus has power over all things, and he shares this power with us, the members of the church. With Jesus, we are never, ever powerless.

Cash-Strapped Cathedrals -- FPC sermon excerpt

The cathedrals of England are running out of money.

Because of declining worship attendance, these magnificent cathedrals are now charging admission fees. At York Minister, if you want to enter and admire the 500-year-old stained glass windows, you have to fork over an $11 cover charge. Once inside, you run into frequent appeals to give money, as well as a $10 guidebook and a gift-shop that sells all sorts of church-related knick-knacks.

So much for being a free and open “house of prayer for all peoples” (Isaiah 56:7).

According to the Economist magazine (February 16, 2008), York Minster is not alone. Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral also have admission fees, and other cathedrals are looking for money from the National Lottery — they want to use gamblers to support religion! Still other cathedrals charge for car parking, or they moonlight as conference centers. Because they attract a dwindling number of worshipers, they have to operate more like businesses than communities of faith.

If we want to avoid becoming a cash-strapped cathedral, we have to pay attention to what Jesus is trying to teach us in the parable of the talents. In this story, a master sets out on a journey, but before he leaves he hands over his money to this servants — he gives out coins called talents, which are weighty and valuable units of money. Each talent is worth more than fifteen years of wages for a laborer — in today’s dollars, each talent would be worth about $300,000.

So this is serious money, and you can understand why the servants would not want to lose it. Jesus tells us that the first two servants invest their talents and double their money, while the last servant buries his piece of silver in the ground. After a long time, the master returns and settles accounts with them. The first two report on their investments, and the master praises them for taking risks with his money. He gives them additional responsibility, and invites them to share in the joy of their lord. The third servant, however, makes a very different kind of report.

“Master, I knew that you were a harsh man,” he says, “so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” He returns his one talent to the master, saying, “Here you have what is yours” (Matthew 25:24-25). The master condemns the servant for being lazy, because he did nothing with the talent that he was given. The master points out that if the servant truly feared him as “a harsh man,” then the very least he could have done would be take the coin to the bankers to gain interest. This would have taken no more effort than digging a hole in the ground. But the servant showed no imagination, or intelligence, or care, or commitment. He did the first and simplest and safest thing that came to mind: Bury the talent in the ground.

The result is that the master takes the single talent away from the servant, and gives it to one of the good investors. Instead of being invited into the joy of the lord, he is cast away into outer darkness (vv. 28-30). What the servant believed about the master has now come true. He really is “a harsh man,” punishing severely those who use his property without imagination, intelligence, care or commitment.

I’m afraid that the leaders of cash-strapped cathedrals are behaving a lot like this one-talent servant. They have each been given something precious — a magnificent cathedral, worth way more than $300,000. They see that people want to come inside, so what do they do? They do the first and simplest and safest of things: They charge admission. They don’t take a risk for the sake of the gospel. They don’t show any real creativity or passion. They don’t multiply their investment — they simply preserve it. That is like burying your talent in the ground.

People who bury their treasures are not setting themselves up for any commendation from the master. You see, God does not want us to simply preserve what we have been given. He wants us to risk it and invest it, with imagination, intelligence, care and commitment.

That’s true whether we worship at York Minster, or at FPC.

Green, meet God -- USA TODAY, November 10, 2008

The greening of religion, although long overdue, is really a quite natural phenomenon. The texts of many faiths, indeed most, at some point reference the stewardship of this earth. More surprising is that today, secular environmental groups are seizing the opportunity to reach out to faith communities.

A Sierra Club report highlights faith-based environmental initiatives in all 50 states "spiritually motivated grassroots efforts to protect the planet." One line leaps off the page: "Lasting social change rarely takes place without the active engagement of communities of faith." Indeed. Think of the U.S. civil rights movement, Solidarity in Poland and the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa. Social change does not stick without the glue of religion.

But as these two movements one based on the love of God, the other on the love of the earth intersect, we should celebrate the initiative while remaining aware of the challenges and inevitable spats that await this quite remarkable marriage.

All on board

For centuries, the biblical command to "have dominion" over the earth was seen as a divine endorsement of environmental exploitation. But a radical shift has occurred, and most people of faith now support efforts to be good stewards of natural resources.

The Pew Forum's Religious Landscape Survey, released earlier this year, revealed widespread support for stricter environmental laws and regulations among Jews (77%), Buddhists (75%), Muslims (69%) and Hindus (67%), as well as members of mainline Protestant churches (64%), Catholic churches (60%) and evangelical ones (54%).

"Creation care" is the growing movement that has become a rallying cry among religious people who are concerned about the earth. In just the past few years, this nation has witnessed an explosion of environmental activity at the grass-roots level.

"We now have 5,000 congregations that are responding to climate change by cutting carbon emissions," says Gretchen Killion of Interfaith Power and Light, a San Francisco-based group active in 28 states. It helps churches and religious organizations lower their energy consumption. "Many of our members have installed solar panels, and three or four even have geothermal," Killion says.

The world needs this broad-based, interfaith movement one that offers practical environmental benefits and draws together people of diverse theologies. Catholics are working with Native Americans to preserve land and water; Muslims are making links between urban communities and sustainable farms; and Protestant churches are joining interfaith coalitions and "greening" their congregations by modifying buildings, installing compact fluorescent lamps, using conservation landscaping and purchasing organic, fair-trade coffee.

Though religions are sometimes scorned for dividing people and illuminating differences, the unifying goal of preserving the planet could do just the opposite: bring people of faiths together. Creation care can be "a great bridge-builder between evangelicals and mainline Christians," says Richard Cizik of the National Association of Evangelicals. Although evangelicals have traditionally distrusted environmentalists, who tend to be political liberals, stewardship of the earth is not a left-wing concept. After all, observes Cizik, "Aren't conservatives supposed to be conservers?"

But is the marriage of the secular environmental movement and the faith-based one even necessary? Actually, it's essential. The international community has settled on the dangers of global warming and has decided to act to literally change the world. We've reached a critical point at which unity is required if this movement is to succeed. Just as in any successful political campaign, you need a good ground game. There is no better ground game in the USA than the thousands of churches, synagogues and mosques that dot our landscape from coast to coast. But are religious people ready to walk down this aisle?

Lyndsay Moseley of the Sierra Club believes so. She has been working for several years to develop partnerships with people who have faith-based, moral or spiritual reasons for protecting the planet. Raised in a deeply religious and politically conservative home in eastern Tennessee, Moseley encountered a low-income community outside Knoxville where the water supply had been contaminated by the illegal dumping of lead, arsenic, diesel fuel and PCBs. She joined a coalition that demanded clean water for the neighborhood, and in the course of that successful effort, Moseley "began to understand that God's call to care for creation is the same as God's call to love our neighbors."

Diverse faiths, converging interests

Trust, intersecting values and a willingness to work together. These are the key ingredients that Moseley believes are necessary to build a meaningful alliance between the Sierra Club and people of faith. But even supporters urge caution.

Cizik tells me that "evangelicals need to find their own voice before partnerships are established," because they don't want to be seen as "an appendage of the environmental movement." Though this suspicion and distrust among evangelicals is clearly a hurdle, it is one that can be cleared, as megachurch pastor and author Rick Warren has plainly illustrated.

One doesn't even have to be a global warming doomsday prophet to see the wisdom of greening the planet. Jack Graham, a former president of the Southern Baptist Convention, says he is unsure about the main causes of global warming, but he strongly believes that Christians should not abuse the earth. He recently led his 27,000-member Texas church through an energy audit that led to changes in consumption, resulting in savings of $1.1 million in one year not to mention the environmental benefits achieved through the members' efforts.

Other faith groups want to make sure that their distinctive mission is not diluted by environmental partnerships. Green mustn't overshadow God.

"We hear regularly from secular groups who want to partner with us," says Killion of Interfaith Power and Light. "These groups have important information to share, and we need it to do our work. However, we strive to be theologically based and not to be an environmental organization." Killion wants the message of her organization to remain faith-based, rooted in the mandate to care for creation that is found in most mainstream religions. "We want to engage communities of faith who traditionally don't like the environmental community," she says.

So the environmentalists of the world want to save the planet, and the various faiths that share this planet want the same thing. Good. Yet in reaching out to those of us rooted in faith, the Sierra Clubs of the world must work within our religious traditions to ensure that these efforts enrich, rather than undermine, religion.

Patience will be the friend of these environmental groups as they court the affections of the large and politically powerful community of believers now committed to caring for God's creation. Our planet wasn't polluted in a day, and it won't be cleaned up that quickly either.

Henry G. Brinton is pastor of Fairfax Presbyterian Church in Virginia and author of Balancing Acts: Obligation, Liberation, and Contemporary Christian Conflicts.