Upgrade your plan

In July 2005, the journal Science has a list of 125 things that scientists cannot explain. One was the origin of language. Another was the business of language learning. And even though I’ve been working in language science for twelve years, my most profound language-learning experience occurred on a cross-walk in Germany. Let me tell you about it!

I was walking down the street in Munich, and I stopped for a red light. There, already waiting for the light, was an elderly gentleman. When he saw me beside him, he turned and said “* * * *”, (I could only tell you what he said if I spoke German!) but I could only smile, and shrug. It was so terribly embarrassing. I wanted at least to be able to say “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” But I couldn’t. Providing a merciful escape, the light turned green, and we both started across the cross-walk. And then about half-way across the street, it hit me: I knew exactly what this man had said to me! It was the strangest feeling. I turned back to agree with the fact that it was indeed a lovely spring morning. But then I realized that I had no idea how to say that in German. (so I was embarrassed twice).

Now humor me for a second. I might have been completely kidding myself, and he could (possibly) have been talking to me about the price of sausages, but I don’t think so. At the time, I knew that he had made a polite comment about the weather, even if I could never explain how I knew it. But German is related to English. And there were just enough hints in the words he used and in the way he talked that I was sure that I understood him after thinking about it for a number of seconds.

So why I am I telling you this? Well, language learning is somewhat like spiritual learning. Hearing words isn’t enough. If we just read the words or listen to me talk all those words can just pour over us, without any of it sticking, almost like a man speaking German. But just like listening to a man speaking German, if we have hooks to hang those words on, it can become valuable for us. Then we can have one of those “a-ha!” experiences that I had in Munich.

This morning brings us to the third in a series of sermons from the book of Romans. And I’m going to try to convince you that the sixth chapter in the book of Romans contains the key to understanding a lot of scripture. In fact, I’d claim that Romans chapter six represents perhaps one of the most important spiritual lessons that we can ever learn. But the words aren’t enough. If you let me, I’d like to encourage you to build spiritual cupboards to put these ideas in. That way, when you hear similar ideas from the books of first or second Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians or Colossians, you will have a place to put them.

Before we get to Romans chapter six, we really should read at least the last verse-and-a-half in chapter 5: “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Wow – that’s pretty dense, but these are our signposts, the big words of the day: sin and grace; death and life. Sin and Death go together, and Grace and Life go together. It would not be an exaggeration to claim that the subject of Romans chapter six was, in fact, a matter of life and death. For starters, and if nothing else, we can learn from Romans that grace can trump sin; life can conquer death. The good news this morning is that grace and life are available to us, too. And Romans chapter six is nothing less than an attempt to explain just how we can be part of that victory.

But I almost get the feeling that Paul was having an experience a little bit like I had on that crosswalk in Germany: I knew what the message was, but I was inadequate to respond appropriately. Similarly, with Paul, the words of Romans are not simple; they are not easy to follow; they can be confusing. In fact, Paul gives us a hint of this problem in verse nineteen: he says “I’m putting all this in human terms because you are weak.” In our weakness, we just don't have the spiritual hooks to hang the spiritual truths that Paul wants to give us. Some people might find this lack of clarity frustrating. But that isn’t necessary. In fact, it could be comforting. What does this tell us? It suggests to us that life is not simple; life is not easy to understand, and life can be confusing. This means that the Bible is appropriate to our experience. It doesn’t pretend that there are short-cuts or magic words. It doesn’t make light of the difficult circumstances that we are going through. It understands that living is hard work.

Of course, this doesn’t sit well with some people. As John Piper says:[modern Christians] are pragmatists to the max. We want results. And we want them yesterday. We want them simply. We want them without too much pondering and too much pain. And … we have developed all kinds of Christ-coated remedies that [taste good and are easy to swallow, but are, in reality] shallow and short-lived.

Not so Paul. In Romans chapters six and seven, Paul is literally struggling with ultimate truth. And that’s where we’re going today. Romans chapter six and verse one: “What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may increase?” Paul isn’t living in a dream world; he, like every one of us, knows that our lives are places where sin and grace meet – that’s almost what it means to be human. We sin, but God’s grace is still extended to us. We celebrate God’s grace, but we still sin. So Paul knows that sin and grace do co-exist, but he is basically asking the question “Can the grace and sin co-exist happily." And immediately, he gives a decisive answer. The King James says “God forbid!” The New International Version says, “By no means.” – but both of these translations don’t do justice to the original. The New American Standard has the most literal translation: “May it never be!” Modern ways of conveying this thought include:

“can’t happen”/“it doesn’t work like that.” Or/“you can’t get there from here.”

Sin and grace cannot both increase in the same place. If grace is present, it means, of necessity, that sin must decrease.

But then the rest of the verse introduces the first wrinkle into the chapter: Paul explains “we died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?” Now hold on. Back a couple of verses, we heard sin reigns in death, and now he says “we died to sin.” Now I’m pretty sure that Paul isn’t saying that he wants sin to reign, so when he says “we died to sin,” it must mean that Paul is now using the idea of “death” in two very different ways. How in the world are we going to keep track of that? And we’re only on verse two.

Benjamin Franklin said that nothing is certain in this word but death and taxes, and now it seems like we can’t even be certain about death. Of course, death is a bit like taxes...

Have you ever got a call from a financial adviser? These guys never let up, do they – I get a call every two months. They know that nobody likes taxes, and they know that everyone would like to pay less tax. So they phone up and tell you that there are options when it comes to taxes, and they offer a free seminar to find out more; with the hope, of course, of becoming my tax consultant or accountant. Often, the trick is to pay tax at different times. If you invest now, you can end up paying less tax when the investment matures.

Well, this morning, Paul is saying that there is an option when it comes to death. And here we are in a free seminar to find out more about that option. But just like the tax guy, the trick is to experience death at a different time. Verses three and four: “don't you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with Christ… into death.” Apparently, this “early death option” is part of the “grace-and-life” package. And indeed it is. What’s more, it is a shame that it is not better advertised. You can’t be blamed for feeling that it is a bit of hidden fine print in the Christian life.

But you really shouldn’t feel like that for long. You see, the “early death option” isn’t an “extra” – it isn’t tacked on the end to make our lives complicated. Instead, the “early death option” is part of the reason that the whole salvation thing works in the first place. Our Savior, Jesus Christ broke the ground: he was willing to die early – when he didn’t deserve to, but then, as we read elsewhere, “[because Jesus was willing to die] 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.” So the fine print (if you think of it that way) includes this promise, too – let’s read the rest of verse four and verse five: “We were therefore buried with Christ… into death so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead, we may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection." Similarly in verse eight: “Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him."

Just so there is no misunderstanding, resurrection with Christ is more than enough to make any “early death option” more than worth it. As Paul writes elsewhere “our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” Similarly, Jesus says, “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." So let’s spell it out.

Death option number one – “the basic death plan”: let nature take its course. In this option, sin reigns, and the result is death. Physical death is an appropriate metaphor for spiritual death. Folks who choose “the basic death plan” are usually fixated on death by actively avoiding it. It is a little bit of a puzzle, but something like the ladies who, after reading the first English dictionary, commended Dr. Samuel Johnson, its compiler, for choosing not to include “naughty words.” “What?” Dr. Johnson asked, “Have you been looking for them?” By looking for unsavory words, the ladies demonstrated an unhealthy fixation. Similarly, there are a number of activities that demonstrate that we are motivated by death-avoidance.

The first indication of death-avoidance is the attempt to live as long as possible, or, to put it another way, a fixation with health. Indeed, our society and many modern Christians appear to be obsessed with health. A sure sign of a true Christian is the ability to look physical death in the face with that calm assurance that in the song: “And then one day, I’ll cross that river; I’ll fight life’s final war with pain. And then as death gives way to victory, I’ll see the lights of glory where my Savior lives.” In contrast, the world spends double on health food. The world idolizes the medical profession. We pay large amounts for fancy ways to exercise. The cosmetics industry is booming as we change the color of our hair, smooth out our wrinkles, and work on our complexions.

All these demonstrate an unhealthy fixation and death-avoidance. All these are clear signs that we’re committed to “the basic death plan”. Last week in the early service, it was quite a blessing to hear X show that her faith in God is bigger and more important to her than the medical machinery around her. We need more of that attitude in our churches. I’m sorry, folks: but God does not promise his children physical healing. He wants to heal our souls, yes; but the reality is that our bodies run down and fall apart. In kindness, He might grant us brief reprieves on that score, but they do not come with any guarantees, expressed or implied.

The second indication of death-avoidance is the attempt to establish a legacy in wealth, or status, or fame, or power. Have you even seen that bumper sticker, “Whoever dies with the most toys wins?” When we come to the realization that the world and all that is in it is temporary, none of these things matter any more. In spite of what television teaches us, God can be far happier with the contribution to the Kingdom of God from a single widow than he is with all the gifts of a church full of rich folk.

The final indication of death-avoidance is the attempt to squeeze as much out of the time that we have: we only care about doing the things we feel like doing, when we feel like doing it. We feed our appetites, because that’s all we live for: we eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Indeed. All of these actions, obsession with health, wealth, and self, derive directly from a commitment to “the basic death plan.” In verse 21, Paul asks “What benefit do we get from all these things?” -- and the answer is stark and final: “They result in death.”

But that isn’t the only option that we have for death. In our text this morning, Paul introduces for us “death option number two” the “early death plan” which is simply this: have faith in Jesus dying for us. When we have this faith, we become united with Christ in his premature death. We willingly lay down our lives before God, accepting the death of our desires, the death of our ambitions, the death of our rights and the death of our own personal glory. That is what it means to have saving faith. Yes, we are talking about salvation here. Death option number two is part of the package of saving faith. Saving faith is not faith *that* Jesus died for me. Saving faith is not “faith that anything.” Saving faith is faith *in* Jesus dying for me. Note the verb tense: the English language doesn’t even permit me to say “faith in Jesus died for me. Rather, we must say “faith in Jesus dying for me.” Our faith is not of the past or in the past. Our faith is living and active and present.

As verse five suggests, our salvation involves being united with Christ. Our hope of glory is that Christ is with us and in us today. But that eternal resurrection life depends on our participation in Christ’s death. Only if we are united with Christ in his death will we be united with him in his resurrection. Folks talk about being born again, and so they should. But the reality is that the second birth requires the first death. It is only by opting for an “early death plan” that we can be born again at all.

Incidentally, this idea isn’t limited to Romans chapter six. It can be found throughout the New Testament. Four quick examples:

Galatians 2:20 “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

2 Corinthians 5:14, 15 “we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”

Colossians 2:12 “[You were] buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.

Colossians 3:3 “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”

The “early death plan” is part of the fibre of scripture. The intervening centuries might have diluted the message, but it is clear and it is clearly important. And the key is that the “early death plan” supersedes the “basic death plan” – verse nine: “since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.” And that is precisely what God wants for us – to eliminate the mastery that death has over us, and to give us the means to live eternally. As it says in Hebrews 2:15 Christ came to "free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death." And in 2 Corinthians, we read: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!”

One final point from our text this morning: the “early death plan” is not just a theological construct. It is not just something waiting for us in heaven. We have the power and the responsibility to “work out our salvation” – to turn the “early death option” into a reality in our lives. Verse 12: “Therefore, do not let sin reign in your mortal bodies.” This is our responsibility. In the days in which Paul wrote this, regime change was only rarely due to a peaceful transfer of power. When he says “Don’t let sin reign,” he is saying that we need to be actively chipping away at the power of sin. We need to be aware of our weaknesses and cautious of our strengths. But our responsibility isn’t just to resist the advance of sin, verse 13: “rather, offer yourselves to God.” We also need to actively establish a beachhead for grace in our lives. Only by resisting sin and making ourselves available to God can we find ourselves united with Christ.

Here Paul uses words that indicate a struggle is taking place. And indeed it is. Next week, chapter seven will focus on this struggle. But let me leave you with this challenge. Don’t be satisfied with the “basic death plan”. Not only will it bring you to an unhappy end, it will also leach the joy and delight out of life. Instead, follow in the footsteps of Jesus, have the same attitude as him. Opt for the “early death plan,” and enjoy eternal life in God through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Joseph

This morning, I’d like us to talk about one of my favorite people in the Bible.

This guy was very likely one of the most important people in the entire Bible: without him, the entire people of Israel would not have survived. But he was also undoubtedly one of the very most annoying people in the Bible. Can you imagine? But it is true: God is able to use annoying people. In fact, God often chooses annoying people to do his work. Now if you are one of the prestigious, proper, pious, perfect people, you might find this bit of news to be quite bothersome. In fact, some people have been turned off to God precisely because he is friendly with annoying people. Do you remember the Pharisees’ complaint about Jesus? “He hangs with tax collectors and sinners,” they said. Sometimes it is tempting to do the childish blackmail thing with God: we tell God, “if you want to be my friend, you aren’t allowed to play with him – he is so annoying.” But I’m happy to report that God doesn’t for a second even consider buckling to any kind of blackmail. He will play with the very most annoying people on the planet, and that is tremendously reassuring for the rest of us!

But let’s get back to my hero, X – oops! I almost said his name. I wanted to ask you to guess who he was. Does anybody – any of the children, now – have any idea of who my hero is? Now before you guess, let me remind you of what you know already: the only clues that I’ve given so far are that 1) He saved all the people of Israel, and 2) he was really annoying. Actually there are quite a number of guys like that in the Bible, aren’t there? Ever heard of Samson? He was a really strong guy who saved the people of Israel, and he was really annoying to the Philistines – remember when he tied the foxes tails together around a torch, and let them loose in the grain fields. Hoo-boy! But he’s not my hero: Samson was annoying to his enemies, but my hero was even annoying to his friends. Can you imagine? Ever hear of Moses? He was the great leader, who led the people of Israel out of their slavery in Egypt, and he was annoying to those same people – the Bible even says that after Pharaoh asked them to make bricks without straw the people wouldn’t listen to him at all. But he’s not my hero: Moses might have been annoying to the people of Israel, but my hero was even annoying to his family. Can you imagine? Ever heard of David? David was the great king of Israel, who conquered the Philistines decisively. But when he was younger, he was annoying to his brothers – did you know that David’s older brother called him conceited and wicked? But he’s not my hero. David’s brothers just wanted to insult him, but my hero was so-o-o-o-o annoying, ten of his brothers actually wanted to kill him! Does anyone know who my hero is? That’s right, my hero is a guy named Joseph. He wasn’t just an ordinary Joe, let me tell you.

Do you know why Joseph was so annoying to his brothers? Well, for starters, he was the father’s favorite. You might have thought that of all people, Joseph’s father Jacob would have learned the lesson that parental unfairness causes problems – having lived on the short end of the favoritism stick and all. But no: Jacob ended up having a favorite, too, and Jacob’s favorite son was Joseph. So guess what? Joseph’s brothers resented the special treatment that Joseph received. It didn’t help that Jacob gave special presents to Joseph. That kind of upset his brothers. And it didn’t help matters that Joseph was a bit of a tattle-tale: whenever his brothers did something that he thought they shouldn’t, Joseph would go to his father and rat on them. And it didn’t help that Joseph had this bad habit of telling his brothers about these dreams in which he was always much more important than his brothers. His brothers didn’t exactly warm to that, either.

So one day, when Joseph was out in the countryside with his brothers, they took him, tore off his fancy coat and threw him into a dried up old well. And while they were at it, they very likely let it slip that they were planning to kill him – just to make sure that his last hours were as miserable as possible. Now we don’t have many old wells in our back yards these days, so it would be like locking someone in a closet, or taking someone and wrapping their hands and mouth with duct tape. I’m sure that nobody in this church would be cruel enough to do that to anyone. And I’m sure that nobody in this church deserves that kind of treatment. So imagine Joseph wrapped in duct tape, I mean, there in the bottom of the well. What do you think he did in the well? It’s not like he could fight back. All he could do was howl – in fact, the Bible talks about his cries of distress. Ever so often I hear something like howling at my house, but I’m sure glad my kids haven’t tried to kill each other – yet. The howls in the Peters’ house often come with a cry for “Dad!” – because part of my job is to keep things fair between my kids. But Joseph’s Dad was miles away, so Joseph couldn’t call for his father to come and bring justice. The Bible says that besides howling, Joseph was pleading for his life. After all, they had taken his fancy coat, and it was starting to get dark, so Joseph was probably getting a little cold, and a little frightened. Can you think of anything else that Joseph might have been doing down in that well? Well, it is possible that Joseph did some praying down in that well. But you know what? Sometimes things get worse before they get better. And if Joseph was praying, God didn’t seem to be answering that prayer at all.

So picture this: it is getting late, and Joseph is cold and hungry and miserable. He has been crying for hours. And just as it starts to get dark, he thinks for a second that his prayers have been answered: a rope is thrown down into the well and he is allowed climb out. But then he hears this noise , and his brothers grab him, wrench his arms behind his back and wrap him with chains. “What are you guys doing?” I’m sure he asked, and then he noticed something that he hadn’t noticed before: his brothers weren’t the only ones at the top of the well. Then he heard a sound like and he spun around to see some strange man wearing strange clothes giving his older brother a stack of coins. How would you feel to discover that your own family considered you to be worth about this much metal? And then his brothers start walking away. And he was hauled off to Egypt and sold as a slave.

Now some people, having just been mugged by your family and sold as a slave might be a little tiny bit bitter about the experience. Some people might have accused God of letting his guardian angels go on vacation at the wrong moment. And then after blaming God, it isn’t hard to give him the silent treatment. But let me tell you from experience: giving God the silent treatment only makes things worse. Now I’m not sure if Joseph avoided that mistake. Since he was only human, it took him a while to be able to handle the whole slavery thing. But I do know that he eventually came around, and concluded that God could even be at work in Egypt. After all, if Joseph let God work in him, and Joseph was in Egypt, then God would be working in Egypt, too.

Being a slave has never been fun, and being a slave in Egypt was no fun at all, let me tell you. But Joseph was sold to a guy named Potiphar. And that was a good thing. You see, since Potiphar was wealthy and powerful, he could afford to treat his slaves well – especially the good slaves. And Joseph turned out to be one of the very best slaves that Potiphar had. That’s already a good indication that Joseph was trusting in God. When we trust in God, God often helps us do our work better. So after a while, Joseph’s life wasn’t so bad. But just when Joseph was about to get comfortable, Potiphar’s wife comes along. Now if you remember, I told you before that Joseph was a bit of a tattle-tale. But there are two types of tattle-tales: the first type tells those things that you’d prefer to be kept secret. That’s the kind of tattle-tale that Joseph was with his brothers. But Potiphar’s wife was the other kind of tattle-tale: you see, she wanted to get Joseph in trouble, and so she made up lies to tell his master. She told Potiphar that Joseph was doing some really bad stuff. And who is Potiphar going to believe, this slave he bought from the camel traders, or his wife? Well, he believes his wife, and Joseph gets thrown in a dungeon.

Now some people, having been thrown into a dungeon because someone made up lies about them might be a little tiny bit bitter about the experience. Some people might have accused God of letting his guardian angels go out for doughnuts. And then after blaming God, it isn’t hard to hold a grudge against him. But let me tell you from experience: holding grudges against God only makes things worse. Now I’m not sure if Joseph avoided that mistake. Since he was human, it probably took him a while to be able to handle the dungeon smells. But I do know that he eventually came around, and concluded that God could even be at work in the dungeon. After all, if Joseph let God work in him, and Joseph was in the dungeon, then God would be working in the dungeon, too.

Now the Bible doesn’t tell us exactly how long Joseph was in the dungeon, but it does say that it was a least two years. Can you imagine? The first time Joseph gets thrown into a well, he “kinda-sorta” deserved it – he was annoying after all. But this time, he didn’t deserve it at all. In fact, he was thrown into the dungeon for doing that right thing. Thrown into a well, sold as a slave, wrongfully accused, thrown into a dungeon…Joseph might have been tempted to imagine that God had abandoned him altogether. But do you know that the Bible says that God was with Joseph this entire time? What do you think of that? I can guarantee you that there were times in those two years that Joseph was convinced that God had entirely left him. He was, after all, only human. But that’s an important lesson, isn’t it? Just because we don’t think that God is around to look after us, doesn’t at all mean that he has left us alone. When God says “I will never leave you, I will never forsake you,” he doesn’t sneak in some fine print “as long as you do such and so.” As long as we live, God is there watching out for us, and showing his grace to us. The Bible says, “In him we live and move and have our being,” and “in Him all things hold together.”

So as a picture for us, as an illustration of His love that we can learn from almost four thousand years later, God came and rescued Joseph. It only took thirteen years from the time that he was thrown in that old well. Thirteen years! Some of you gentlemen in the front row aren’t even that old. That would be like waiting your entire life. But if you remember the story, what happened was this: one of the guys that Joseph met in the dungeon had this really strange dream, and Joseph explained to him exactly what that dream meant. So later on, when Pharaoh, the king of Egypt had some dreams, this same guy remembered Joseph, and told Pharaoh that this strange guy in the dungeon named Joseph could interpret dreams. And then, when Joseph proceeded to explain to Pharaoh what his dreams meant, Pharaoh was so pleased with Joseph, that he made him the ruler of the entire land. And it was a good thing, too, because Joseph was able to prepare in advance for the worst famine that the land of Egypt ever had. That’s when they don’t have enough rain to grow food. Because he had the people store away food before the famine, they had enough to survive when the famine came.

Now it is always fun when people dig up archeological evidence for the Bible. Did you know that they have evidence that the source of the Nile River, the big river that runs through the land of Egypt, dried up for a significant time in the same period that we think that Joseph was there. What’s more, there is also a lake in Egypt whose source dried up at the same time. There is an ancient canal that was built to supply this lake with water. And do you know what they call this canal? They call it “Joseph’s canal”, and as far as we know, that is the only name that it has ever been called. I don’t know about you, but I love learning about stuff like that.

And so God saved Joseph, and Joseph saved all the people during the drought and the famine. Pharaoh had Joseph manage all the food distribution for seven years. The famine was so bad that people from all over the area came to buy food from Joseph. And one day, ten men arrived from a long distance away to buy food. They don’t recognize Joseph, but he recognized them. That’s right: his brothers had come to ask for food. My hero this morning was really, really powerful, and when he had his enemies entirely under his control, did Joseph get back at them? No, my hero looked after them instead. You can picture it: here is a ruler in the greatest kingdom on earth, flanked by squads of guards. And his enemies come groveling before him. These are the same enemies who had come “this close” to killing him. They were only talked out of it at the last second. Instead, they tore off his clothes, they threw him in a well, and they sold him as a slave. But now Joseph is the boss, and they are nobodies. But Joseph, even though he might have struggled with the situation, is really kind to them. He takes the money that they used to pay for the food, and has it hidden in their luggage, so when they get home, they find food and their money. And then when the entire family returns to Egypt, Joseph makes sure that they live in the best part of the entire country – a part that is the least affected by the drought and the famine.

So everyone lives “happily ever after,” more or less. But the best lesson of the story comes a little later on, when we finally get to see what is in Joseph’s heart. You see, Joseph’s brothers are feeling so guilty about all they did to him, they suspect that Joseph has some plan to get back at them. And they imagine that the only thing holding Joseph back is the fact that his father Jacob is still alive. And so when Jacob became old and died, Joseph’s brothers all got together and came to Joseph, and the Bible says that they threw themselves down before him and said, “We are your slaves.” Now listen carefully to what Joseph says in reply. He says, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God?” Now this is a rhetorical question. Does anyone know what a rhetorical question is? (apparently not – I love that joke). A rhetorical question is a question for which the answer should be obvious, so it doesn’t need to be answered. And Joseph’s question was just that. Joseph’s answer is “no, or course not, I am not in the place of God.” Now considering that the rulers in Egypt had a long history of claiming to be in the place of God, Joseph’s words are particularly significant. Here is Joseph, in deliberate opposition to centuries of tradition, making it clear that God is God, and he is just a man. This might just be the hardest lesson to ever learn, and one that each of us dearly needs to learn.

It is so easy, so convenient, and so seductively empowering to take the place of God, isn’t it? And it all goes back to the Garden of Eden, and the temptation that our greatest-grandfather and greatest-grandmother bought into. What did the serpent say to Adam and Eve? He said, “if you eat of the fruit, you will become like God, knowing good from evil.” This is the primary human temptation – it always has been and it always will be. We want to be in the place of God. We want to decide what is right and what is wrong, what is good and what is evil. We want to judge, we want to be in control. But we all need to come to the place that Joseph came to, where he knew that it was not his place to judge, it was not his place to decide what is right and what is wrong. He was not in the place of God, and neither are we. And when we finally come to the place where we realize that we are not in the place of God after all, then our whole perspective changes. What does Joseph say to his brothers next? Genesis 50:20 says, “Even though you might have meant it for evil [when you threw me into that old well,] God meant it for good.”

“God meant it for good.” Being thrown in a well? “Yes, God meant it for good.” Being sold as a slave? “Yes, God meant it for good.” Being wrongfully accused? “Yes, God meant it for good.” Being thrown in the dungeon? “Yes, God meant it for good.” Now it is one thing to recognize God’s work in your life when He has picked you up and dropped you on the throne of the greatest civilization in the known world, but it is quite a different thing to recognize God’s work in your life when you are still in the dungeon. But this trick here is just this: if Joseph wasn’t able to give God room in his heart while he was in the dungeon, Joseph would not have given God the credit that he deserved when he sat of the throne. If things aren’t working out for you at school, or at home, or at work, don’t give up on God. Even in the most evil situations we will ever experience, God can still work. Let him work in your life and in your heart, and you will not get in the way of his working in your school, or your home, or your work, to redeem that situation. While you may not have seen the end of your story quite yet, the story of Joseph gives us a hint as to how it can turn out: whatever is going on in your life, it can’t possibly be as bad as what happened to Joseph, and if Joseph was able to come to the place of being able to recognize that God meant it for good, then perhaps we should, too.

Now when we know what someone means, when we know what someone “is getting at”, when we know what someone intends, we say that we understand them. Joseph was someone who actually understood God, because he knew that God’s ways are higher that our ways, and that God can turn even the greatest evil into good. One of the greatest of all human experiences is simply to be understood, and one of the most tragic is to be misunderstood. In fact, we could even go so far as saying that a friend is someone who understands us, and an enemy is someone who chooses not to understand us. One of the most heart-breaking experiences you will ever face will happen when you say something nice to a friend, and the friend imagines that you are saying something unkind. The classic case (it would be a joke if it were not so tragically true) is when a husband says to his wife: “Your dress looks great, honey.” And the wife replies, “What’s wrong with my hair?” Ouch. That hurts.

But I wonder how often God is heart-broken by our choosing to misinterpret his work in our lives. He means it for good, but we misunderstand it as evil. I wonder if we hurt God by missing His meaning. Be God’s friend this morning: be willing to understand him. God “meant it for good” in Joseph’s life. God could also mean it for good in our lives, too.

Psalm 44

I was reminded about a week ago that the Bible is primarily made of stories. So I hope you don’t mind if I tell you some stories this morning. To the best of my knowledge, these stories are true.I checked with the sources to make sure I wasn’t going to pull a James Frey. [ed. wrote a "memoir" of questionable veracity]

Around 1918, the Russian countryside witnessed frequent skirmishes between the white army and the red army. The history books can tell you about the generals and the battles, but I’m going to tell you about some of the Russian citizens that were caught in the middle of it all. One afternoon, a company of the white army (those loyal to the Czar) stopped in a small rural community, and following the conventions of the day, took supplies as needed without payment. This week the supplies that they needed included a horse and a cart. Unfortunately for Isaac Peters, the horse and the cart that they chose to requisition were his, and unfortunately for his wife Sarah, they also decided that they needed a driver for that cart, and so they chose to take their fourteen-year-old, Gerry for that purpose.

We live in a different day and age. My son, Nathanael, is fourteen, and he is in no shape to go off to war. His older sister, at sixteen, is barely in any shape to graduate from high school! But there was my great-uncle Gerry, at the ripe old age of fourteen, being taken to war against his wishes. His mother, my great-grandmother was none-too-pleased. But what could she do? The Czar’s army were armed and in a hurry. She could only give her youngest son a kiss and then? She could pray.

The next morning, a company of the red army (those were the communists, who were winning this war) arrived in their village. And the captain of the company chose the Peters’ residence as their billet. Great-grandma served the captain the best that the farm could serve and looked after his animals as well. And the captain talked with my great-grandfather. The company was chasing a recently departed white army contingent, he was told. But since the revolutionaries knew the territory, the captain was certain to overtake them within the week.

When she heard the news, my great-grandmother approached the captain and asked him for a favor. And having been feasted and treated all evening, the captain was quick to agree: my great-grandmother’s request was simply this: when the white army was engaged to extend mercy to her fourteen-year-old son. How would he know the boy? The captain asked. He always wore a white cap. She also promised another farm meal for their return trip.

The next morning, the red army was off at a quick march. And my great-grandmother prayed. In the middle of the next week, the captain returned, and as they sat down to dinner, the newly liberated Gerry Peters, safely home with horse and cart, told his story: the white army had given him a gun, but when the fighting started, he threw down the gun – after all, he had never held one in his life, and did not know how to use one. But there wasn’t much cover. He thought about hiding behind his cart-horse, but wasn’t sure he should do that – after all, how could he return a dead horse to his father? But one by one, the soldiers beside him were being shot, and he was quite puzzled by the fact that he was spared a bullet.

“Wasn’t that lucky?” he asked.

“Not lucky,” replied the captain. “Because of your mother’s wonderful hospitality, my troops were all told that whoever shot the boy in the white cap would be court-martialed.”

It clearly wasn’t luck that great-Uncle Gerry wasn’t hit by a bullet during that battle. But you might say that it was lucky that the red army captain billeted at my great-grandparents, or that the conversation took the direction it had, or that, or that. But was it lucky? I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I think that it was an answer to prayer. And Uncle Gerry was a very important person in my own life.

Eight years later, Gerry and his brothers, including my grandfather, Frank, had immigrated to Canada. The Canadian government had opened its borders in the 1920s to the Mennonites, because the Canadian West needed farmers, and the Mennonites were good farmers. Unfortunately for my family, my grandfather was not a farmer but a teacher – He spoke four languages, but none of them English. As a result, the only work he could get was in the coalmines of Alberta. It wasn’t long before the coal dust killed him, and my grandmother, Margaret, was left to look after four little boys on her own.

Not an easy life – my father has a picture of the foundation of the house in which the five of them lived. It was approximately the size of my garage. And that first winter was very difficult. Grandma told me that there were times that she would collect the crumbs after sweeping the house, and bake them into the next loaf of bread. But the second winter was even more desperate – because Grandma had run out of money. So what could she do? Winters can be quite cold in Alberta, and the cellar was out of coal. She got the family together: herself, my father and his three brothers, and they prayed.

The next morning, they were awakened by a loud sound. My grandma bundled up and went outside to discover a man she had never seen unloading a truckful of coal into her basement. There must be some mistake, she told the man.

“No mistake, lady,” he replied.

“But there is no way that I can pay for this,” she told him.

“It’s already paid for,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s been paid for, lady, it’s been paid for.”

There are few things in the world that are more awesome than answered prayer.

But why am I telling you these stories? Well, we’re preaching from the Psalms these days at Bethel, and I’d like you to turn to Psalm 44. The first verse of Psalm 44 explains these stories:

We have heard with our ears, O God;
our fathers have told us what you did in their days, in days long ago.

My father told me these stories, as he experienced them and as told by Uncle Gerry. So I can appreciate this verse on two levels; perhaps, you can, too. We read the stories from the Bible, and see God at work. Perhaps God has been at work in your life or the life of your family, too.

Oh yes: I need to tell you how Uncle Gerry played an important role in my life. A couple of years later, Uncle Gerry had made a lot of money on his farm and decided to move to Abbottsford, in British Columbia. And on his way out West, in 1944, he stopped in at the little Alberta village of East Coulee, and asked his widowed sister-in-law if she and her boys would like to have a lift to Vancouver where there were likely more opportunities for them.

We have heard with our ears, O God;
our fathers have told us what you did in their days, in days [not so] long ago.

In the case of the writer of Psalm 44, God’s participation in the significant past is represented by His protection and blessing: verse 2: “with your hand [O God,] you drove out the nations and planted our fathers; you crushed the peoples and made our fathers flourish.” Now there are things in the Bible that should go without saying, but the Bible says them anyway. Please look at verse 3: “It was not by [our fathers] sword that they won the land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was your right hand, [O Lord,] your arm, and the light of your face, for you loved them.” The main idea here is also echoed in verses six and seven “I do not trust in my bow, my sword does not bring me victory; but you [O Lord] give us victory….”

Now this isn’t just false modesty: the Psalm-writer isn’t just trying to get in good with God by giving him credit. Rather, the attitude that is being expressed is not only the only honest one that we can have, but it is critical to our spiritual health. We must remember that without God there is no success. Without God there is no victory. God provides strength; He provides opportunity; and he deserves the credit for our successes. But it is a common human failing that we want to take the credit for as much as possible. In fact, this is such a common failing, and such a strong human inclination that the Bible, of course, anticipates it.

Deuteronomy 8:17. There, God says, “[Be careful not to] say to yourself, ‘My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.’” The next verse contains this warning: “But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives the ability to produce wealth.” Not only does the Lord give us the ability to produce wealth, but He also gives us the ability to get along with each other, the ability to praise his name, and the ability to work hard. All of human virtues derive directly from God our Father.

I think that parents have the opportunity to understand the truth of this teaching in a special way. My daughter Margaret, bless her heart, is a dear. Last month, I had asked her to help me clean up after dinner, and then when I thanked her, she gave me a big hug. “I love you, Daddy,” she said. “You do all the work, but you still want to thank me for it.” And I’m betting that that is what it is like with God: He does all the work, but he is still willing to let us take some credit, however absurd that misplaced credit might be.

At Bethel, on a number of occasions, you have shared that you feel that without God’s presence, it would be impossible to praise him… Without his participation, it would be impossible to serve him. You were entirely correct. Nobody ever brings anything into the Kingdom of Heaven that didn’t already belong to God Himself.

As Paul quotes the poet, “in Him we live, and move, and have our being.” Every human being on earth relies on God, whether they know it or not, to succeed. And God, in his mercy, causes the Sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. He gives grace to all…but some more than others. And, unfortunately for many of us, it is almost never the case that God chooses to dispense grace in the way that we would prefer. And it is on that note that Psalm 44 changes key. From verses one to eight, Psalm 44 sings in a major key. From verse nine, to the end, however, the key is a minor one. In music, at the boundary between movements, a composer will often put a double bar. In Psalm 44, on the other hand, the transition between major key and minor key is indicated by one very interesting word: “Selah”.

What does the word “selah” mean? And why don’t our Bibles put it in English? Well, it is a little tricky to translate: it derives from the word to “weigh” or “measure”. I have friends who named their daughter “Selah” – but I’m sure that they weren’t thinking about how much the child weighed. You see, the word “selah” is likely an instruction to stop and think before proceeding. You know, something like “chew on it” or “ponder it”. And this is good advice, especially in the case of Psalm 44. You see, the music of Psalm 44 is never resolved, and we need to draw on the resources of the past to keep us strong for the challenges of the present. Let’s read verses nine to twenty:

⁹ But now you have rejected and humbled us; you no longer go out with our armies.

¹⁰ You made us retreat before the enemy, and our adversaries have plundered us.

¹¹ You gave us up to be devoured like sheep and have scattered us among the nations.

¹² You sold your people for a pittance, gaining nothing from their sale.

¹³ You have made us a reproach to our neighbors, the scorn and derision of those around us.

¹⁴ You have made us a byword among the nations; the peoples shake their heads at us.

¹⁵ My disgrace is before me all day long, and my face is covered with shame

…you get the idea… let’s just skip to verse 23 and 25:

²³Awake, O Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.

²⁶ Rise up and help us; redeem us because of your unfailing love.

Wow. Eight verses of praise, and fourteen verses of complaints – who let this Psalm into the Bible anyway? Well, God did, of course. And that is because he knows that we can learn as much, and sometimes much more, from righteous complaining as we can learn from praise. Now please don’t get me wrong here: by saying that I am not validating the recreational complaining that takes place at almost every church, ours no exception. Righteous complaining has a number of characteristics that we can see from Psalm 44. First, the complaining that we see in Psalm 44 is prefaced by honest praise: we need to be willing to accept the good before we have the right to decry the bad. Second, the complaining that we see in Psalm 44 is not directed at any individual; it is directed at God himself. Third, the complaining in Psalm 44 is honest. Sometimes our complaints aren’t so much – they are often really just a diversion that comes out of our guilt feelings.

Let me use myself as an illustration. In my job, I have the chance to work at home regularly. Working at home is terrific – I don’t have to spend an hour-and-a-half a day on the train, and forty-five minutes walking to the office. But it has its downside, too. There are plenty of distractions at home – especially after the kids return from school at around 3pm. But I’ve discovered something about myself. If I’ve worked really hard, and well, and accomplished a lot, I am not bothered by the noises that my kids make when they return home. On the other hand, if I have been distracted during the day, and wasted time rather than doing the work that I know needs to be done, then all of a sudden I complain that my children are distracting during those last two hours of the day. That isn’t an honest complaint. Far from it. Rather, complaints like that just indicate deep-seated feelings of guilt – and I’ve noticed that much of twentieth-century complaining is of this variety. In fact, I’ve found that whenever I’m inclined to complain about something – anything – that it is a really healthy exercise to question my motives.

But righteous complaining is different. It is prefaced by praise, it is directed at God, and it is honest. Finally, the complaining that we see in Psalm 44 is a cry for justice: it implicitly, and correctly, regards God as the ultimate source of justice, and it is a cry to Him for fairness, and a cry to Him for mercy.

Having said that, I’d like to point out that the complaining is every bit as spirit-led as the praise. I’d like you to appreciate that God can be present in the life of someone who is complaining about God’s absence. That might have been a little tricky, so let me say it again: We need to appreciate God’s presence in our lives – even when we are struggling with God’s absence. The proof of God’s presence in the life of the Psalmist is the fact that this Psalm was preserved for us in God’s sacred writings. Seriously. The Hebrew scriptures do not suppress human feelings or failures. They represent honest expressions of God’s children throughout history. And when those writings find their way into the canon – when God permits his name to be associated with these words – it validates them. Imagine that: God is actually validating questions about his care and concern in the lives of his children.

This is just like Psalm 22, where David writes, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But Psalm 22 paints a prophetic picture of Jesus suffering in great detail, doesn’t it? So much so, that Jesus quoted this passage from the cross. As a result, Psalm 22 represents one of the most startlingly accurate prophecies in all of history. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that David was struggling with a sense of abandonment when he wrote it. And in his great mercy, God validated those feelings of abandonment. Psalm 22 is not the only Psalm that is quoted in the New Testament. The New Testament also quotes Psalm 44. And when it does, it does not quote the happy, positive verses. Rather, it quotes a verse that summarizes the sad, confused, minor-key portion of that Psalm.

Psalm 44, verse 22: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” Paul quotes this verse in the book of Romans. And as a Pharisee and a student of scripture, he is calling on his readers’ knowledge of the Old Testament to help them understand what he is referring to. Passages like Psalm 44 represent all of the injustice in the world. There is still injustice in the world, and Psalm 44 resonates with those who experience it daily. But I have a hunch that Paul was thinking about more than just Psalm 44 when he chose the verse to quote. Otherwise why not quote “we have been rejected and humbled” or “my disgrace is before me all day long”.

Verse 22 reminds me of the story of when Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son Isaac. Psalm 44 says, “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered a sheep to be slaughtered.” For God’s sake, Isaac was literally considered a sheep to be slaughtered. And he faced death the entire trip up the mountain carrying the wood. You might say, “well it wasn’t exactly his choice.” But we need to understand: Isaac was his father Abraham’s life. I bet Abraham would have preferred to give up his own life rather than sacrifice the life of his son.

I have a friend at work who is not a Christian, and to him this story of Abraham and Isaac represents all that is wrong in the Bible. Perhaps you also reacted with disgust the first time you heard it – I can still remember the feeling of revulsion that I felt the first time I heard this story: why would/how could God ask Abraham, his friend, to sacrifice his own son? It is only when we remember this indignation that we begin to see how powerful the story really is. Yes, God does, in fact, ask us to give up those things that we consider our own – to give to him those things that mean more to us than life itself. With this in mind, let’s turn to Romans, where we find God’s answer to the writer of Psalm 44.

“[middle of verse 31] If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all – how will he not also, along with [his Son], graciously give us all things?” You see, in as much as we react to God asking Abraham to sacrifice his Son, it is then that we appreciate the love God demonstrated by giving his Son for us. “[verse 35] Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written [in Ps. 44:22!]: 'For Your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.”

If nothing can separate us from the love of God, then why do you suppose we all have our moments when we struggle? Perhaps we approach God with an agenda. We might sing, “take my life and let it be consecrated Lord to thee,” but at the same time, we might be counting on God to look after us. We might be counting on God to keep us healthy. We might be counting on God to support us in our family or in our career. We’d like to add layers to the deal, as if we are in any place to negotiate with God.

But we will never understand the power of the love of Christ until we are willing to set aside all of those extra conditions on a relationship with God. It is only when we are willing to bring our health to the altar. It is only when we are willing to bring our career to the altar. It is only when we are willing to bring our family and friends to the altar. Then, and only then will we might have the power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. In Abraham’s case, God returned what was precious to him, providing a ram for the sacrifice in place of his Son. But we must not count on that: our willingness to sacrifice what we hold dear is key to our growth.

The Apostle Paul, who scriptures say is an example for us, had this focus that each of us needs. His health? Paul asked God to remove a physical ailment on a number of occasions, but God replied, “my grace is sufficient for you.” His marriage? As a Pharisee, Paul was almost certainly married at one time, but it is clear that he was single throughout most of his Christian ministry. His career? He could have been written the book “A Guide to Jails of the Roman Empire”. Based on these “extras”, many modern Christians might be inclined to consider the Apostle Paul to be a complete failure. But those are precisely the Christians who will never know what he meant when he said, “we are more than conquerors." It is only once we put to death the claims we have to the things of this world that we can truly experience the depth of the love of God.

Psalm 44’s minor-key chorus was only resolved hundreds of years later, in the book of Romans. And it is possible that the minor-key experiences that we have might never be resolved in our lifetimes. But those experiences need not destroy us; they need not make us bitter. We need to be able to give up our ambitions in those areas, to see that the love of God is bigger and greater and wider and deeper than any and all of the suffering that we could ever endure. And then, giving these things up on the altar to the Lord, will we become more than conquerors through him who loved us.

Being Worth Your Salt

Once upon a time in Pointe-Claire, there was a restaurant with a funny name: it was called Domboga. It served fine food, and diners would tell all of their family, friends, co-workers, and everyone else they knew about the amazing experience they had at Domboga. But like most things that are good, it didn’t last forever.
One day the sou-chef noticed that the pastry chef was adding some extra ingredients, one of which was a powder from a jar labeled “Na.” And, partly because the sou-chef was curious, and partly because the sou-chef was jealous of the pastry chef, the sou-chef went to the internet and Googled “Na.” – only to discover that… EEK! “Na” was a poison!

So the sou-chef went to the Manager of the restaurant to tell him that the pastry chef was adding a poison, Na, to the food. But the Manager had heard no complaints about the desserts, and, in fact, there were diners who came to Domboga exactly because of the desserts made by the pastry chef. However, the sou-chef was so convinced that the pastry chef was adding poison to the desserts that he started talking about the pastry chef behind his back…first to the rest of the staff: “The pastry chef was adding a poison to the desserts. He must be stopped!”

When the pastry chef was approached with the idea that he was adding a poison to his food, he simply showed his co-workers that it was not a poison by eating his own desserts. Many of the staff thought that Na actually made the food taste better! They took a vote in the kitchen, and the majority of the staff agreed that the pastry chef was doing his job well.

Nevertheless, the sou-chef and the other staff who rallied behind him were still convinced that the pastry chef was adding poison to his food. No matter how much the pastry chef explained himself to them, they would not back down. And so they then let it slip to some of the diners that the pastry chef was adding poison to the desserts. What a scandal! At first, there were just fewer orders for dessert, then it looked like fewer people were coming to the Domboga. But that was just temporary. Like many things in life, the sou-chef’s strategy backfired. All at once people just wanted to come to see what all the fuss was about. And the pastry chef became something of a celebrity.

That is, until in desperation, the sou-chef contacted the government. When whiff of a “public health concern” reached an ambitious junior bureaucrat in the Department of Health, he sent inspectors, initiated audits, and made life so unbearable for the poor folks at Domboga that the place had to be shut down.

Later, it came to light that the pastry chef was, indeed, adding the deadly poison Na to his desserts. But this particular pastry chef was so skilled, that he was able to add Na to his food in such a way that it ended up not being poisonous at all. In fact, he combined the poison Na with another poison with just the right mixture. You see, he hadn’t really been adding Na to the food at all! In fact, all this time, he had simply been adding…salt.

You see, salt is composed of two deadly poisons: Chlorine whose symbol is “Cl” and Natrium, whose symbol is “Na”. Another name for natrium is sodium, so we sometimes call salt “sodium chloride”. Now there are few more volatile (oh! Big word! “volatile” means “explosive”) …there are few elements on the planet that are more volatile than Sodium. And when Chlorine and Sodium come together – Oh boy! Fireworks! But then, after the fireworks are over, the Sodium and Chlorine start to work together, and together even these two explosive, poisonous elements can enhance the finest foods, and as we shall see, have all kinds of other benefits as well.

This morning, I’d like to remind you that Jesus said that you are the salt of the earth. It is an idea that we heard discussed two weeks ago, but Al gave me permission to build on that theme just a bit…. What do you think that Jesus meant when he said that we are the salt of the earth? I hope we can discover some of what he must have meant this morning.

But like every important spiritual truth, being the salt of the earth is hard to nail down. We can’t make an equation out of it – and that’s a good thing. Whenever the heart is involved instead of just the head, it is a little more difficult to pretend that we understand, but when we do understand, we’ll never lose it.

In an important sense, just like the poisonous explosives Chlorine and Sodium come together to make salt, we, as individuals, are dangerous when we are left alone, and salt of the earth when we work together. In fact, when Jesus said “you are the salt of the earth,” he used the plural pronoun. Comme “Vous êtes le sel de la terre.” That means that he wasn’t just talking to one person when he said it. He was talking to a bunch of people. But more than that, I’d like us to imagine this morning that he wasn’t just talking to a bunch of individual people, but that he was also talking to a bunch of people together. For while I suspect that we can, in fact, be the salt of the earth on our own, I fully expect that we can be even more effective as the salt of the earth when we operate together: as Paul writes in Romans: “none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone.”

There may be characters in the church that really rub you the wrong way, that drive you crazy. But it is only when Sodium and Chlorine give up exploding together that they can become salt, and it is very possible that it only when we meet those people and stop being explosive that we can truly be the salt of the earth. It is a bit of a shame that our modern world and our modern churches allow us to hide among people exactly like ourselves, as Debbie suggested a few weeks ago. We’ve learned that if we don’t like our circumstances, we can always change – folks change jobs, change churches, and more. We have gotten used to the luxuries of personal space. We have our own everything, and we have lost the gift of being able to share. As a result, we might never experience the freedom that comes from giving up the poison deep inside each one of us; we might never be challenged by God to do bigger things having been faithful with smaller things.

Rather than just providing another comfort zone in our churches, God may very well be calling us to work out our salvation at church together: to find that equilibrium between ourselves and those we are tempted to fight with the most. Perhaps then, and only then, will be really fulfill our calling to be the salt in His world. You know, I think that this might also be one of the reasons that God gave some of you brothers and sisters. As iron sharpens iron, it says in Proverbs, so one man sharpens another.

But there is another sense in which we simply can’t be salt of the earth on our own, either. Do you know that back when Jesus was walking on the earth, salt was worth more than diamonds? Soldiers used to get paid partly in salt! It is true. In fact, the English word “salary”, which means the money you make from a job, actually comes from the Latin word that means “salt”. Isn’t that strange? What would you think if you asked your Dad for your allowance, and he gave you this [a full salt-shaker]? I bet most of you wouldn’t be very impressed. Well, to understand what it means to be the salt of the earth, we need to understand how important and valuable salt was in the time of Jesus.

Do you think that the soldiers just carried salt around with them? As Al asked two weeks ago, do you think that they brought it home and put it on the shelf and looked at it? Of course not! Salt has no value to anyone, let alone Roman soldiers, if it is left on the shelf. You know, the point of salt is not to just to be salt. Salt is pretty much useless if it just sits around with other salt and tells salt stories or plays salt games. Salt is useful if it gets used up. As Jesus said, “Anyone who wants to save his life will lose it.” Salt without saltiness is useless. And saltiness is the behavior of salt and not just the character of the salt.

So why did Roman soldiers not complain when they were paid in salt? Well, let me explain. Back in those days, you didn’t just go down the street to your friendly neighborhood Provigo and pick up a meal neatly wrapped in plastic. And when you did get food, you couldn’t just go home and put it in your fridge. Not at all! As you can well imagine, food was just as important when Jesus lived as it is now – but back then they hadn’t all kinds of ways to make food convenient.

Back then, if you wanted to eat, you might kill a goat. But you probably couldn’t eat the entire goat right then and there. So you’d eat some of the goat, and the rest of the goat would have flies buzzing around it in no time. And folks learned really quickly that you don’t want to eat meat once the flies have laid eggs in it, and those eggs hatch into little maggots, which usually happens less than a day later. Gross, huh? I know! It is so cool. Did you know that CSI teams (that’s crime scene investigation, for anyone out of that loop) use the development of bugs on a corpse to pinpoint the time of death? *shudder*

But back to the goat… Goats were expensive! You didn’t want to have to kill a goat and only get one meal out of it. So that’s where salt comes in. You see, if you take salt and work it into meat, people found that meat lasts four of five times as long as it would otherwise. So it should be easy to see why salt would be so valuable: if you wanted to eat goat meat four days in a row, you could either have four goats and no salt, or you could have one goat and a quarter-pound of salt. With that chunk of salt, you could keep the meat from that one goat good for all four days. So obviously, a quarter-pound of salt was worth three goats. Or something like that… In any case, this was the reason that salt was considered so valuable: it was a preservative.

You see, left on its own, the world can be pretty rotten. That’s the word we use when meat goes bad, isn’t it? It goes rotten. Then it smells bad, and you really, really, don’t want to eat it, or even get near it. Because if you do, you get sick. But it is the same with the world. Left on its own, the world can go rotten, too.

In your grandpa’s lifetime, the world has seen a number of countries taken over by people who wanted to pretend that there was no God. And more of the people of those countries were killed by their own governments in the last hundred years than people have been killed by their own governments in all the rest of history put together. Left on its own, the world can go rotten really fast. And it is our calling to keep the world from going rotten as much as we can.

Even in our own day, we see people in public looking for a fight. Whatever the issue, more people seem to want to cast their opponents as evil, both ignoring the good points that their opponents make and the good that is in their opponents. Well, folks, this is the Chlorine and the Sodium still evident in our lives. That’s what we need to give up. As salt, it is our calling to see the good in everything and in everyone; to remember that God loves even those who disagree with us. In fact, it is our calling even to love our enemies, to love even those who really do have it wrong, or really are trying to hurt us.

But you know, while countries need God a whole lot, we need God on a personal level even more. As Steve shared two weeks ago, without God, rottenness sneaks its way into our relationships, too. Misunderstandings happen so often, and left out in the sun, a misunderstanding can cause irritation, then bitterness, and then a grudge. If we are hanging on to the Sodium or the Chlorine of our pride, or our ambition, it makes the rottenness happen even faster. But the salt of the earth goes to work and acts as a preservative. In really practical terms, the salt of the earth doesn’t keep record of wrongs (that is, no grudges), is always willing to apologize, and is often willing to let the other person have their way.

We sometimes say that the Christian life is all about a relationship with Christ, and we would be correct. But very recently in history, Christians have mistakenly come to the conclusion that a relationship with Christ comprises reading the Bible and praying. This is a new idea folks – you don’t find it in scripture. Now I don’t want to suggest that those things are not valuable, but they do not constitute a relationship with Christ. Well, if they don’t, what does, you might ask? Jesus himself answers this question for us. He says that when we interact with the least of His brothers, we are interacting with Him! Whatever relationships we have, or do not have, as the case may be, with the marginalized, and the sick, and the injured, and the needy, and the hungry, that, that! is the relationship that we have with Jesus himself. He doesn’t give us very much wiggle room here: he makes a point of not giving us the opportunity to consider the relationships that we have with the wealthy, or the beautiful, or the strong. He makes it clear that the relationship that counts is the one that we have with the poor, and the ugly, and the weak – the very least of his brothers.

And it is precisely these attitudes: wanting to care for the downtrodden, being willing to love our enemies, seeing the good in people who may be messed up but really, really need to know God’s love. These are the things that make us as different from the world as salt is from rotting meat.

You know, Paul might have been thinking along these lines when he wrote: “Do not conform any longer to the thinking patterns of this world.” The world just loves those who are closest; those who agree; those who conform. We, on the other hand, are called to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. How do we do this? A few verses later, Paul gives us some practical instruction: “be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves…. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse… Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone…. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

This is the kind of love that John had in mind when he wrote: “Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” John wasn’t thinking of the love that we have toward our best friends and close family. Jesus said, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ love those who love them.” So once again, the love we have for one another that really counts is the love that we show to those who disagree with us, bother us, or even drive us completely crazy. Which is why Jesus tells us that we need to “love our enemies.”

When we behave that way, we aren’t just acting like a preservative, we’re also acting like good medicine. But that’s another thing that salt can do, isn’t it? I used to use salt whenever I had a really bad sore throat, too. You know, when your throat gets really sore, it often means that you are about to be really sick. But if you take hot salt water and you gargle it, the salt will often fight the infection and keep you from a terrible fever.

Have you ever heard the expression “like rubbing salt in a wound”? If salt gets on a cut it hurts, doesn’t it! But you know, the salt isn’t really causing the pain. In fact, the salt is acting like an antiseptic to ensure that your cut doesn’t become infected! The pain is there to let us know that there is an infection to be fought! It reminds us that there is weakness and vulnerability…

I can still remember watching my Dad when I was a little boy. My Dad would often spend Saturday in the yard or on the roof, or around the house fixing things. And once or twice I can remember Dad having a cut on his thumb that got infected. Have you ever had an infected cut? When your skin is healthy and you get cut, the skin will come together, and the body will heal itself. One wall of skin will accept the other wall of skin, and the two will become one. But if your skin isn’t healthy, if it gets dirty, bacteria can start to grow. Then, instead of scabbing up and getting better, the infection will keep the two walls of skin from accepting each other, and the infected cut will turn red and swell, and hurt a whole lot.

Well, because of seeing my Dad and his infections, I know exactly the best thing to do for an infected cut – and it uses salt! That’s right. You put a quarter inch of salt into an empty coffee mug. Then you put water in the kettle, and bring it to a boil. Then you fill the coffee mug with boiling water, and you stir up the salt until as much of it dissolves in the boiling water as you can get. And then you try dipping your infected thumb into the water after it cools down just a bit! At first, it will be too hot to keep your thumb in the water; but by the time that you are able to hold your finger in the hot salt water as long as you can, the salt has already gone to work and attacked the infection. I never saw my Dad ever need to use the “salt treatment” more than twice before his infected thumb was altogether healed.

Does the “salt treatment” hurt? Of course it does. But after it is done, you are healed. If you stick with the infection, the hurt goes on and on, until the only thing that the doctor can do is to cut your finger off! It is true! So that, too, is a characteristic of the salt of the earth. We need to be willing to put up with short-term pain for long-term gain. That’s hard isn’t it? It is especially hard when that short-term pain lasts and lasts. But if we are children of God, we know that our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

The Bible says that we are the body of Christ. Are there tensions here this morning? Are there conflicts? Are there hurts? My message this morning is not intended to expose such things; that isn’t necessary. But the message is to help heal such things, and that is very necessary indeed.

So that’s what it is all about this morning. If you have a perfect life, I should have given you permission to take a nap. But if there is any conflict at home, or at work, or in your neighborhood, you are called this morning to be a preservative and a medicine. You are the salt of the earth if you are willing to fight against those things that cripple relationships – if you are willing to set aside the grudges, and see the good in all people, and forgive as God in Christ forgave you.
On the other hand, if you like looking down on others, or if you like keeping track of other people’s failings, or talking about folks behind their backs, then Jesus says something really quite scary: Matthew Chapter 5, verse 13: “if salt loses its saltiness, it becomes worthless, and will be thrown away.”

Imagine that: first, Jesus was talking about something that was considered very, very precious at the time – it was soldiers’ salary. But now he says that even something as valuable as salt can rapidly lose all of its value. How can this happen? Simply by losing those characteristics that made it salty in the first place. If you take action that causes relationships to go rotten, you’re still being like Sodium or Chlorine. On the other hand, if you behave in a way to preserve relationships, then you are the salt of the earth.

Are you worth your salt this morning?

What to Wear to a Wedding

Twenty-five years ago last month, there was a very, very famous event. It was the most-watched event in history at the time, and it continues to this day to be the most-watched event of its kind, only surpassed in viewing by recent Olympics and World Cups. Does anyone know what it was? That’s right: it was the wedding of the twentieth century. Charles, Prince of Wales married Lady Diana Spencer. An estimated 750 million people watched it on television around the world. That was roughly eighteen percent of the population of the world at that time. A national holiday was declared that day.

I’m going to ask you to use your imagination this morning. Suppose you could go back in time, and suppose that you were living in London in 1981. Now suppose you go to the mailbox one morning and you receive an invitation to the royal wedding. How do you react? Remember: roughly one in every six people on the planet was going to be watching this event on television. And you receive one of only 3500 invitations. Those odds are only slightly better than winning a lottery. Imagine how you’d feel to receive such an invitation.

This morning, I’m going to be preaching from one of Jesus’ parables. And this parable asks you to do exactly that. Think about how you would feel to receive an invitation to a royal wedding, an invitation to the wedding of the millennium…

¹Jesus spoke to them again in parables, saying: ²“The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son.”

When you get invited to a wedding, it is a great compliment. There, you are permitted to share in the joy of a glorious occasion. The food, drinks and entertainment are usually paid for by your host. In this parable, the host was the King, and this King had apparently pulled out all the stops to have the biggest and the best, and the most extravagant and exciting wedding feast ever. These days, a wedding reception is over in an afternoon or an evening. Back when Jesus lived, they could continue the party for as long as a week or more. And when it is the King giving the party, an invitation also meant a free week of vacation, too. After all, what boss would dare tell the King, “I’m afraid that Jack can’t come to your party – he really has to be at work”? In the UK, a national holiday was declared for the day of the royal wedding. In the land of the King, the holiday would last as long as the party. So an invitation to the King’s son’s wedding party was nothing more than an invitation to the most fun you could possibly squeeze into one week, all expenses paid. Imagine getting an invitation to such an event!

But the parable is full of surprises. And the first one comes right off the bat: verse three – [the King] sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come. Can you imagine? They refused to come! I bet when Jesus first told this story, he had to stop here to let the crowds calm down. They would have been saying to themselves, “are they crazy? Who would turn down the chance to go to the party of the century?”

Why would anybody turn down such an invitation? Well, I’m afraid that this is one of those cases where the reasons that people give would be slightly different from the real reasons. Some might say that they didn’t want to come because they didn’t like the King. Others might say that they didn’t like the other people who were coming to the party. But surely they would be plenty of people at the party that anyone could get along with! You wouldn’t be made to sit beside any you disliked. In fact, in spite of all the excuses, there is really only one reason not to go to the King’s party: whoever refused to come was simply too full of himself. But you see, the parable is telling us a little bit about ourselves. Sometimes, we’re really just too full of ourselves to be willing to accept the riches that God offers to us.

“No way!” you might reply. “If God was to offer me a week’s vacation of all-expenses-paid fun, I’d never turn it down.” Ok, we might not be the kind of people to turn God down flat, but what about what happens to the people in verse five? Starting with verse four: ⁴“Then he sent some more servants and said, 'Tell those who have been invited that I have prepared my dinner: My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet.' ⁵But they paid no attention and went off—one to his field, another to his business.” Now we might not be the sort of person to turn God down exactly, but Jesus warns us that the most common and easy way to turn God down is not to pay attention!

Now you know why your parents told you that paying attention is so important. I guess the idea is that if we make a habit of paying attention to our parents and our teachers, it will be easier to pay attention to God.

Notice, however, that the real problem in the parable is not so much not being able to pay attention, but choosing to pay more attention to other stuff. There might not be anything particularly wrong with watching some television, but if television takes over our lives, we better do something about it. There might not be anything particularly wrong with shopping, but if shopping takes over our lives, we better change things quick. There might not be anything particularly wrong with our work, or our hobbies, or our friends, but if they distract us to the point that we cannot hear God calling us to come to his party, then we’d better be careful.

And then the parable takes another interesting turn: ⁶“The rest [of those who were invited] seized his servants, mistreated them and killed them. ⁷The King was enraged. He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.” Now strange as it might seem, these two verses are Jesus way to give his listeners a clue about what he is talking about. You see, everyone listening to Jesus knew that the prophets of long ago were servants of God, and that those prophets were mistreated and killed by the leaders of the people hundreds of years ago. What’s more, everyone believed that God had let the kingdoms of Israel and Judah be conquered and captured, and God had let the city of Jerusalem be burned precisely because the leaders would not listen to the prophets. So this part of the parable is simply Jesus way to make sure everyone knew that the King in the story is really God.

Oh, and there is another point here, too: Jesus lumps those who killed the prophets together with those who are too busy to pay attention to God, doesn’t he? That’s probably a good lesson, too. Don’t be too busy to let God get your attention. And when God wants to get your attention, don’t be too full of yourself to refuse to listen. You know, we always make time for the things that are most important to us. How important is God in our lives this morning?

So the party is ready. The food is hot. The tents are up. The entertainment is charging by the hour. Only one problem: all of the people who have been invited aren’t showing up. Not to worry, though: the King has a plan. Verse eight: ⁸"Then he said to his servants, 'The wedding banquet is ready, but those I invited did not deserve to come. ⁹Go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.' ¹⁰So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.”

Imagine that: Jesus says that anyone who is invited but refuses to come didn’t deserve to come in the first place. And what’s more, the King would now have just anyone come to his party ‑ as Jesus says, “both good and bad.” Let me give you a hint: just because there are bad people at the King’s party is no reason to stay away. It is far, far preferable to be in the presence of the King to staying at home because, hey, let’s be honest, you are too full of yourself. So yes, the good and the bad are invited to the wedding. There is no discrimination at all. The King demonstrates his great kindness by offering places at his banquet to absolutely everyone. No one is too young, or too ugly, or too stupid, or too broken, or too hurting. The King makes sure that everybody is invited to the wedding. Isn’t that nice? Not a bad way to end the parable. But Jesus doesn’t end it there. In fact, let’s read the whole parable…(Matthew chapter twenty-two, if you’d like to follow, I’ll give you a chance to turn to it in your Bibles)

¹Jesus spoke to them again in parables, saying: ²"The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. ³He sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come.

⁴"Then he sent some more servants and said, 'Tell those who have been invited that I have prepared my dinner: My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet.'

⁵"But they paid no attention and went off—one to his field, another to his business. ⁶The rest seized [the king’s] servants, mistreated them and killed them. ⁷The king was enraged. He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.

⁸"Then he said to his servants, 'The wedding banquet is ready, but those I invited did not deserve to come. ⁹Go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.' ¹⁰So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.

¹¹"But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. ¹²'Friend,' he asked, 'how did you get in here without wedding clothes?' The man was speechless.

¹³"Then the king told the attendants, 'Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'

¹⁴"For many are invited, but few are chosen."

You know, in Anglican churches across Canada, after scripture is read, the reader will say, “This is the Word of the Lord.” Do you know how the people respond? That’s right: “Thanks be to God.” This is not a bad idea – especially when we read a portion of scripture that it a bit difficult to digest. And these verses from Matthew certainly fall into that category. Here, we read that the King of the Kingdom of Heaven sent an army to destroy those who mistreated his servants, and later we read that the same King would have a dinner guest tied up and thrown out into the darkness for not following a dress code. And so, when scripture is difficult to swallow – and especially when scripture is difficult to swallow – it helps to be reminded: “The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.”

When I was attending university, I had a “eureka” theological experience. You know what that is, don’t you? Eureka simply means “I found it!” in Greek. So the next time you’ve lost something, you can look really geeky by saying, “eureka” when you find it. But we talk about a “eureka experience” as the experience of figuring something out.

The first one happened to the famous Greek mathematician named Archimedes. The king, so the story goes, started to wonder about the royal goldsmith. You see, it was the royal goldsmith’s job to ensure that the royal crown was the purest possible gold. But the king suspected that the goldsmith was cheating: using a mixture of gold with other metals, and keeping the extra gold for himself. So the king sent for Archimedes and asked if he could determine if the crown was pure gold without destroying it.

Archimedes thought about the problem for a while. And one day, while he was taking a bath, he figured out how to do it: you see, he noticed that when he entered the bath, the level of the water rose. And at that moment he knew exactly how to determine whether the crown was pure gold. The story says he yelled “Eureka” and ran down the street. You see, the difference between pure gold and not-so-pure gold can be determined by the density of the material. That is, the relationship between the size of the crown and its weight. Now it was easy enough to weigh the crown; but it was tricky to know how big it was… He could have beaten the crown with a hammer until it was a nice little brick, and then measure the brick, but the king would likely be less than impressed with such a strategy, especially if the crown turned out to be pure gold.

So Archimedes had figured out a really cool way to measure an object’s volume: you immerse it in water, and you measure the amount that the level of the water changes. And to end the story, it turned out that the goldsmith was, in fact, cheating the king. We don’t find out what happened to that goldsmith, but it probably wasn’t very pretty.

Now when people hear this story nowadays, they mostly think “big wup?” After all, everybody knows that the volume of an object can be measured by the volume of water it displaces. But Archimedes was the first to notice this. When he lived, it was quite a revelation.

Now I expect that many of you will react the same way to my “theological Eureka moment.” You might say, “O come on, Doug, everybody knows that.” But you need to understand that there was a time that I did not understand this at all. Maybe I was a little slower than the other kids…

So what was this “theological Eureka” that I’m talking about. Well, it happened like this. I was attending a meeting of a university Christian group. And in that meeting, everyone was always talking about the love of God. So far so good. Talking about the love of God is always a good thing to do. After all, the Bible says that God is love. It says that anyone who loves is born of God. So I have no beef with talking about God’s love. We don’t do it enough. But after a while, I noticed that the way university students understood God’s love was somewhat odd. Apparently, for most university students, God shows his love by simply letting them do whatever they want. For them, God’s love meant unending forgiveness, patient, and forgetfulness. God’s love meant that he never cramped their style. And as this became more and more apparent, it finally dawned on me that the God that these students were talking about wasn’t really involved in their lives at all.

In that meeting, all hints that God might place demands on his children were downplayed. No demands of justice; no demands of honesty; no demands of consistency; no demands of any kind. Any suggestion that God might judge us was dismissed, and there certainly wasn’t anything like Hell. For these students, God couldn’t get angry. If God could get angry, they thought, it meant that God couldn’t be loving. As if the two could never go together… Some seem to think that God’s holiness, perfection and justice take away from his love. But the “Eureka” that I had was that God’s love is made greater, and not less, when we appreciate God’s holiness, justice, and perfection.

You see, it is easy to be merciful when you have no expectations. During the week, these pews and these windows don’t get in your way. But it would be wrong to say that they were loving or merciful. God, on the other hand, demonstrates enormous love and mercy when he doesn’t get in your way. Why? Because he is expecting a lot of us in the first place. In fact, God’s love is demonstrated in the fact that he lets us have our way precisely when we do not live up to his very high expectations.

Now it is true that when someone loves you they don’t crowd you or stifle you; they give you space. But there is no real difference between having a lot of space and being completely ignored. God’s love isn’t like that. Yes, he loves us. Yes, he gives us space. But no, he does not ignore us.

And in the parable, the King did not ignore the fact that one of the guests was not wearing a wedding robe. And that person appears shocked (“speechless” the Bible says) to discover that such a kind and merciful King, one who would invite anybody and everybody to his feast, should enact judgment on a guest who was simply wearing the wrong thing. Yes: our King of glory is a God of grace and a God of love. He is not willing that any should perish. But we should not take advantage of his kindness and grace by thinking that nothing is required of us!

So what, exactly, is required of those who wish to attend the King’s feast? Simply to wear the king’s clothes! That’s right: the wedding garment was also a gift from the King. Apparently, the ancient tradition was that the guests didn’t need to bring their own festive clothing: the host would offer some to any guest who came unprepared. The only folks not wearing a wedding garment were the wedding crashers – those who snuck into the party – and those who refused to wear the clothes that the King provided. Now in our case, since the King invited absolutely everyone to the wedding, there couldn’t be any wedding crashers. So this person had simply decided that his own clothes were good enough to go with. Fair warning: we need something from God to be acceptable to him. If we figure we’ll make it on our own, we are only kidding ourselves.

The language of clothing shows up again and again in the Bible. As we read in Isaiah 61:10 “I delight greatly in the Lord; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.” In Galatians, we read that when we are baptized, we are clothed with Christ. In Luke, Jesus tells his disciples that the Holy Spirit will come and clothe them. In Ephesians and Colossians, we are commanded to put off the old self, and put on the new as if they were clothes to wear. The image of clothing is an important one, because we are in the habit of dealing with clothes on a day to day basis. We put on clothes every morning. Similarly, we should be prepared to come to God every morning and accept what he provides for our salvation. Just like we breathe in and then breathe out, we need to get in the habit of choosing against the old nature, with any anger or malice, and put on the new nature, in the image of Christ himself, with kindness and compassion.

So what, exactly, does the wedding garment represent in the parable? How can we be sure that we will be welcome at the King’s feast? Different people over the centuries have had different ideas about what it must mean. Isn’t it fascinating that something that appears to be so important, that means the difference between enjoying the feast and being cast into darkness isn’t made clear at all? Actually, there may be great wisdom in its lack of clarity. After all, every time someone decides that they know what the wedding garment represents, it causes a split in the church.

It would be a good joke if it weren’t so true. And ironic, to say the least. The parable makes it clear that the feast is inclusive: it is open to everybody. On the other hand, what the wedding garment represents is not made clear. But whenever someone thinks they know what the wedding garment represents, they manage to turn it into an excuse for exclusion. Only God gets to decide who is in and who is out. That’s not our task at all.

Rather, since it is left unclear what exactly Jesus meant when he was talking about the wedding garment, it means that we need to work out our salvation. It means that we need to seek to find, we need to ask to receive and we need to knock to have the door opened.

Many are invited but few are chosen. As Rob read last week: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” Be one of those who find life this morning. Accept God’s invitation to his feast and be prepared to change the “clothes” you are wearing to suit the occasion.