You, Lord, are like the mountains.

You surround us, protect us, and inspire us.

You, Lord, make us like mountains.

You cause us to become strong, enduring, and unshakable.

Be my mountain today Lord.

Make me a mountain today Lord.

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When I look back over my life, I see one thing clearly: you are for us.  You are on our side.

There was that time when dangerous people made my life so difficult!

But you rescued me.

There was that time when all my carefully constructed plans suddenly collapsed!

But you saved me.

There’s not a single doubt in my mind.

You are for us.

You are on our side.

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The Heirloom of Prayer

During her sunset years of life, Kendra’s grandmother hand-stitched several colorful quilts for Kendra.  They are some of our favorite heirlooms—especially the double wedding band quilt.  The blankets remind us of Memaw’s generous love, fun-loving spirit and quirky personality.  I think of her every time we pull a quilt out of our hallway closet.

Perhaps you have an heirloom from a much-loved-one.  A family piano.  A treasured set of crystal.  A piece of framed art.  These items reflect that individual’s kindness and care.  They tell us something about the heart of that person.

Leaving an inheritance is a common practice.  We’ve come to expect it from those who are important to us.  But what about the One who is most important?  Did Jesus leave an heirloom?  If so, what was it?  What gift did Jesus bequeath to those who lived after he left?  If Jesus had written a will, what legacy would he have listed on its pages?

Perhaps with such questions in mind, George Buttrick writes this: “Two signs of Jesus abide, though all else be ignored or forgotten—a prayer and a cross…These are His memorial: not a tombstone or a moneyed foundation, but a simple prayer and a gallows set against the daybreak.”[i]

You may not be surprised to find the cross listed on Jesus’ Last Will and Testament.  Almost universally, when people think of the Christ they think of the cross.  The worldwide symbol of Jesus’ contribution to humanity is his cross.  The world-changing summary of Jesus’ challenge to humanity is his cross.  He died so we might live.  We die so that others might live.

But you may be surprised by the mention of a prayer.  A prayer is listed among his most prized possessions?  Buttrick is referring to a specific prayer—what we call “The Lord’s Prayer.”  Besides the cross, what captures the heart of Jesus is the heirloom bequeathed to us in his Lord’s Prayer.  As Jesus sought some way to pass down what most mattered to him, he chose to grant us the inheritance of Calvary’s cross and the Lord’s Prayer.  William Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas write, “So if you are asked, ‘Who is a Christian?’ the best answer you can give is, ‘A Christian is none other than someone who has learned to pray the Lord’s Prayer.’”[ii]  To be a Christian is to pray Jesus’ prayer.

What’s so valuable about this prayer?  Consider its wonderful words:

⁹  Pray then like this:

“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
¹⁰ Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
¹¹ Give us this day our daily bread,
¹² and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
¹³ And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. (Matt. 6:9-13 ESV)

The prayer, as Frederick Buechner writes, focuses primarily on God’s omnipotence and our impotence.  It is rooted in the belief that God can still do anything and that we still can’t do much of anything.  It is the ultimate declaration of dependence.  It puts God in his place.  It puts us in our place:

“We do well not to prayer the prayer lightly.  It takes guts to pray it at all…’Thy will be done’ is what we are saying.  That is the climax of the first half of the prayer.  We are asking God to be God.  We are asking God to do not what we want but what God wants…To speak those words is to invite the tiger out of the cage, to unleash a power that makes atomic power look like a warm breeze.  You need to be bold in another way to speak the second half.  Give us.  Forgive us.  Don’t test us.  Deliver us.  If it takes guts to face the omnipotence that is God’s, it takes perhaps not less to face the impotence that is ours.  We can do nothing without God.  Without God we are nothing.”[iii]

The prayer puts God in his place and us in ours.  It invites the tiger out of the cage.  Authors Mike Breem and Steve Cockram propose that everything Jesus taught about life in the kingdom of God is summarized in this brief prayer.  True discipleship comes only as we learn to pray this prayer.[iv]

The cross and this prayer.  These are Jesus’ greatest gifts.  In them we find all that is needed for a life of following in his footsteps.

Preaching Point #11: The Compass Factor – The most fruitful preaching will point North toward God, not simply East to a Text, South to a Topic, or West to a Demand.

There are trends within contemporary culture which suggest that God-oriented sermons will connect well with listeners.  In general, postmoderns are more open to the general idea of a deity who is part of life on earth.  In rejecting modernism, postmoderns also reject the modern belief that a god has no part of the narrative of life.  David Tacy suggests we are in the midst a “spirituality revolution” in which people have rejected the “values and assumptions of mechanistic science and humanism…” and in which young people especially “realize, often with some desperation, that society is in need of renewal, and that an awareness of spirit holds the key to our personal, social and ecological survival…”[i]  Similarly, R. K. Brewer writes that a dominant quality of postmoderns is that they are “spiritually curious.”[ii]

But not only is interest in God a central part of contemporary culture, it is also a central, in fact the central focus of the Gospel.  In the words of Paul, the central story of Scripture is that of a God who acts in human history so that humans “would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us (Acts 17:27).”  Regarding the primary message of Jesus, Scot McKnight calls it the “Jesus Creed.”  Jesus’ message could be summarized simply as a call to love others and love God.[iii]

Preaching can utilize this common ground between Gospel and culture.  Paul Scott Wilson writes, “Preachers tend to think of the sermon as an object or a thing, like an essay or lecture, rather than a vehicle God uses to establish a relationship with God’s people.  Salvation is communicated and authentic life bestowed.  God’s advent in part is through preaching.”[iv]  That is, God comes to us through the preaching.  Thus, in general, the sermon should have as its theme an action of God’s.  The “good news” of the sermon ought ultimately to be something about God.[v]

This theocentric preaching primarily seeks to answer the questions: “Who is God?” and “What has God done on our behalf?”  Listeners walk away not having just encountered the text (bibliocentric preaching) or the demands placed on them by the text (anthropocentric preaching).  They also walk away having encountered God through that text.  Thus the ultimate good news of the text is “God News”—a word about who God is or what God has done.

How about you?  What direction does your preaching point?  How do we keep preaching pointed at God?

I’m watching you, Lord.

My eyes are fixed on your hands.

The way a child looks to the hands of her father.

The way an athlete looks to the hands of his coach.

The way a patient looks to the hands of her doctor.

I’m watching you, Lord.

My eyes are fixed on your hands.

May they bring the mercy I so desperately need.

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George Zimmerman shoots down Treyvon Martin.  Regardless of your take on the shooting, it’s a tragic situation.  It points to the brokenness of our world.  Syrian forces pillage villages and execute hundreds of their own citizens.  Rarely have we seen such suffering in our world.  As many as a dozen tornados rip through the Dallas/ Fort Worth area destroying homes and businesses.  It is a reminder of the chaos in our world.

We live in a tough world.  A world filled with trials.  These trials leave many people, including some of us, as victims.  Some of us here this morning are nursing wounds from some trial that we are going through.

On Sunday mornings we are exploring the book of James.  And in chapter 1, James acknowledges this reality.  He admits that the world is filled with trials.  In fact, some of James’ readers are victims of trials: ² Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, ³ for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. (James 1:2-3 ESV)  James is writing to people who are experiencing “trials of various kinds.”  Their faith is being “tested.”  Just like today, even then, the trials of the world left many as victims.

It is not surprising then, that James follows this description of a world filled with trials with a description of the way we often respond to trials: ¹⁹ Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; ²⁰ for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. (James 1:19-20 ESV).  It is not a coincidence that just after talking about how we are faced with trials, James addresses the issues of rage, bitterness and anger.  Don’t we often respond to suffering with rage, bitterness and anger?

But James says that God calls us to react to trials not with rage but with righteousness.   Anger, James says explicitly, does not produce the righteousness of God.  And this righteousness, he says implicitly, is the goal of our lives.  When James writes about “the righteousness of God,” he means “the righteous behavior God expects.”  In the Bible, someone is righteous if they treat others and God in a right way.  And that, James is saying, is the goal of our lives.  We are to pour our energies into living in a right way with God and a right way with others.  This is especially true in a world filled with trials.  James is saying that God is calling us to be people who react not with rage but with a commitment to doing the righteous thing in this broken world.

But how do we pursue righteousness?  James addresses this next: ²¹ Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls (James 1:21 ESV).  To live rightly in a chaotic world, there’s something negative we do and something positive we do.  We could put it this way: We respond with righteousness by removing the unrighteous wardrobe and receiving the righteous word.  First, James urges us to “put away” or to “take off” “filthiness” and “wickedness.”  If we want to treat God and people right in this hurting world we have to first remove unrighteous attitudes and actions.  We take them off like removing a filthy wardrobe.  Second, we “receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.”  This word is the Word of God.  We need God’s word to get inside of us and transform us so that we can be the righteous people which this world so desperately needs.  We respond to the trials of the world not with rage but with righteous living.  This righteous living involves us removing unrighteous attitudes and actions and receiving the word of God which can empower us to make a difference in the world.

But how do we receive that Word?  How do we let God’s word get deep down so that we are empowered to live a righteous life?  James answers that question with these words: ²² But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. ²³ For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. ²⁴ For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. ²⁵ But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.²⁶ If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. (James 1:22-26 ESV).  In summary, James is saying this: We receive the righteous word by hearing it and heeding it.  We hear God’s word with our ears and we do that world with our hands and our lives.  It’s not enough to just know and hear God’s word.  We also have to heed it.  We have to put it into action.  James is saying that if you want God’s world to transform you you’ve got to act on it in this trial-filled world.

Tony Jones writes this:[1] “A common theme in modern Christianity has been that head knowledge is how one becomes more adept at following Christ: the more you know, the better you’ll do. But in fact, that hasn’t proven to be true.  Instead, it seems the Christian life is more like being a baseball shortstop: A young player can watch videos, read books by the greatest shortstops of all time, and listen to coaches lecture on what makes a good shortstop; but what will make him a truly good shortstop is getting out on the field and practicing. The only way he’ll really get a feel for the game is to field ground ball after ground ball, to figure out when to play the ball on a short hop, when a pull-hitter is at bat, and how far to cheat toward second base when the double play is on. The more practice he has, the better he’ll be.  Getting a ‘feel for the game’ in following Jesus is much the same…”  If you really want to make a contribution in this trial-filled world, you not only need to hear God’s word.  You’ve got to get out on the field and put that word to practice.  You’ve got to get out there in the midst of the violence and the turmoil and the chaos and start practicing what you’ve been reading.  That’s the only way you’ll ever really become righteous and thus able to make any difference in this word.

But what exactly does that look like?  What would it truly be like to heed God’s word in this hurting world?  James answers with these final words: ²⁷ Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. (James 1:27 ESV).  Of all that James might have concluded with, it’s remarkable that he ends up here.  James highlights two groups: orphans and widows.  In the ancient world there were no two groups more victimized by the trials of the world than these two.  Orphans had no parents or adult figures to fight off trials for them or help them recover when trials hit.  Widows had no male figure to fight off trials or help them recover when trials hit.  Both were alone in the harsh and hurtful world.  And James says that heeding the word of God, putting God’s work to practice, essentially comes down to caring for people like this.  We could put it this way: We heed the righteous word by caring for victims of trials in the world.  We wind up where we began.  We began with James pointing out how we are often victims of trials.  We end with James calling us to go back into that world and help others who are victims.  James doesn’t just want the church to gather together and nurse our wounds and tell each other how bad life’s been.  He wants us to get back out there where others are also hurting and to do something about the suffering out there.  That’s ultimately what it means to live as a righteous person.

While Paul Knight, a preacher from Grand Forks, North Dakota, was visiting Ethiopia, he had the chance to meet the little girl his family had been sponsoring through Compassion International.[2]  The little girl and her mother lived and worked in a one-room home that also functioned as the local bar. During Knight’s visit, the place started filling with rowdy men from the community. Suddenly, Knight’s translator took him by the arm and said, “We have to go now.”  Knight looked back at his sponsor child, a ten-year-old girl, and said, “Wait!”  The crowd was getting louder, and his translator firmly said, “It’s not safe for you. You must leave now.”   ”But what about my little girl?” Knight asked.  “Will she be safe?”  The translator said, “It’s not really safe, but this is her home.”  Knight, alarmed, asked, “What does that mean—it’s not really safe?”  The translator replied, “It means exactly what you think it means.”  Knight began to cry.  “What can this little girl do?”  Grabbing his arm, the translator said, “We teach the girls to do this: scream and run to the church. When you get to the church, you will find love and safety. The church will shelter you. So when they feel threatened or vulnerable, they scream and run to the church.”

I’m thankful that the church in Ethiopia could be a safe haven and a refuge for girls like this so victimized by the trials of this world.  But I think James paints an even better picture.  I don’t think James is addressing girls like this and telling them: scream and run to the church.  I think James is addressing churches like us and telling us: when girls like this scream, you run to them.  James doesn’t just want the afflicted running to the church for shelter.  He wants the church running to the afflicted to shelter them.  He wants the church sprinting to those who feel threatened and vulnerable.  In this broken world, he wants the church bringing safety to them.  Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.

I know of no ministry that does this better than Agape.  Highland has a long history of partnering with Agape to serve orphans, widows, and others in great need.  Executive Director David Jordan is with us this morning to share how Agape, through FIT, Powerlines, and other initiatives, is putting God’s word into action, especially among those who widows and orphans.

DAVID JORDAN

You may not be able to run to those in need today.  But you can support those who do.  By giving generously today, you are heeding God’s call to serve those victimized by the trials of this world.  We need to raise $129,000 today to fund the 20 world and urban missions which Highland partners with.  Every one of these ministries is running to those in physical and spiritual need.  You can help them do this job by giving deeply and generously this morning.

Here are the 50 words:

God made. Adam bit. Noah arked. Abraham split. Jacob fooled. Joseph ruled. Bush talked. Moses balked. Pharoah plagued. People walked. Sea divided. Tablets guided. Promise landed. Saul freaked. David peeked. Prophets warned. Jesus born. God walked. Love talked. Anger crucified. Hope died. Love rose. Spirit flamed. Word spread. God remained.

What would you add/ take away/ revise?

The late Max Cadenhead once shared a confession at the beginning of a sermon:[i] “My message today is on the parable of the Good Samaritan.  Let me start with an illustration.  Remember last year when the Browns came forward to join the church?“  Everyone nodded; the Browns were a very influential family. “Well, the same day a young man came forward and gave his life to Christ.” No one remembered him.  “We worked with the Browns, got them onto committees. They’ve been wonderful folks,” Cadenhead said. “The young man…well, we lost track.  Until yesterday, that is, as I was preparing today’s message on the Good Samaritan. I picked up the paper, and there was that young man’s picture. He had shot and killed an elderly woman.  I never followed up on that young man…”  Cadenhead had eagerly followed up on the influential family of the Browns.  But he had ignored the scraggly and troubled young man who came forward.  The result was deadly.

What Cadenhead confessed, many of us struggle with.  It’s called “partiality.”  Most of us tend to be partial to certain people because of their skin color, their political affiliation, their income, or their age.

And James identifies partiality as one of those things that makes our faith toxic.  The book of James is our focus right now on Sunday mornings.  And one of his major themes is that of “pure religion.”  In Jas. 1:27 James writes about “religion that is pure and undefiled before God.”  James knows that some of his readers are in danger of embracing a religion that is defiled and not pure.  Thus he reveals some toxins which can pollute our faith.  This series will explore the first half of James for some of the deadly toxins that can make our faith impure.  It will culminate in next Sunday’s Special Contribution for World and Urban Missions on April 29.  We’ll return to the second half of James later in the year.

And James points out that one thing that poisons our faith is partiality.  In James 2:4 James accuses his readers of “making distinctions” or of “judging.”  And what they are judging is people.  What they are distinguishing is which people have value and which people do not.  In James 2:6 James accuses his readers of “dishonoring” certain people.  To dishonor means to treat someone as less worthy than someone else.  And in James 2:1, 9 James finds that his readers are showing “partiality.”  The word means to make judgments about others based on external considerations.^[ii]

This is the very thing happening in our world.

• A 2010 survey in Newsweek magazine found that from hiring to firing to promotions—looks matter to a high degree in the workplace.  Attractive candidates or employees were treated significantly better than unattractive ones.[iii]
• A study in the Wall Street Journal found that the greater the foreign accent of a person speaking to us, the less reliable we consider that person to be.[iv]  Our world is filled with partiality.  We make judgments based on external considerations.

But James found that the church was also filled with partiality: ² For if a man wearing a gold ring and fine clothing comes into your assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, ³ and if you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, “You sit here in a good place,” while you say to the poor man, “You stand over there,” or, “Sit down at my feet,” ⁴ have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?” (James 2:2-3 ESV).    Here the partiality had to do with wealth.  The Christians treated a wealthy guest much better than they treated a poor guest.  This kind of partiality poisons our faith.  James says it makes his readers evil.

That’s why James calls for a faith free from the poison of partiality.  James leaves no doubt in anyone’s mind when he says it this way: “My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ” (Jas. 2:1 ESV).  James absolutely forbids.  Why?  Because he knows how toxic partiality is.

And to help us escape partiality, he points to the impartiality of God.  First, James points to the impartiality of God’s conduct.  As an illustration of how God behaves toward people, James writes this in Jas. 2:5: ⁵ Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom…?  James is not saying that God only chooses the poor.  He also chooses the middle class and the upper class—anyone who seeks him.  James’ point is that in contrast to the way the world and these Christians treat the poor, God chooses the poor.  He gives them value.  He honors them.  This, James says, is God’s conduct.  God is impartial.  He does not show partiality to the rich.

Second, James points to the impartiality of God’s commands.  As an illustration of God’s central command, James writes this in Jas. 2:8 ⁸ If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing well.  James joins others in the Bible who summarize the ethical call in the Bible with one verse: love your neighbor as yourself.  This is the ultimate command in the Bible.  And it is a non-partiality command.  Regardless of who our neighbor is and regardless of how they are dressed, where they were born, what accent they speak with, or how much they make, we are to love them.  Because God loves impartially, his central command is for us to love impartially.

This is why world and urban missions are so important at Highland.  By being involved in service, compassion, and ministry to people who dress differently than us, speak differently than us, and look differently than us, we inoculate ourselves against of the poison of partiality.  By sharing our resources and our Lord with all people impartially, we show that we follow a God who is also impartial.

One of Highland’s most exciting world missions is led by Nathan and Karen Luther and takes place in the Philippines.  We are thrilled to have the Luthers with us this month.  We’ve asked Nathan to share with us some of their ministry and how they are sharing the goods and grace of God with people who may be very different from us.

Nathan Luther

Nathan in January a team from Highland visited you and your family in Bacolod.  While there one of our team members, David Ralston, acquired some iron wood.  It’s one of the hardest woods known.  And he had a master craftsman shape that hard and rough wood into some beautiful pens.  We want to present you and Karen with two of these pens and we’d like you to take two more back to your parents in the Philippines.  To us, these pens symbolize the way that you and your family have become master craftsmen—taking rough and sometimes hard people and shaping them into followers of God.  To you, we hope these pens will represent our rock-solid commitment to and loyalty to you.

How do we say “no” to partiality?  One way is by saying “yes” to world and urban missions—loving and serving those who are different from us.  And one way you can say “yes” to God’s mission in the world is by giving generously next Sunday.  We need to raise $129,000 next Sunday to fund the 20 world and urban missions which Highland partners with.  These ministries express God’s love and care for people who may be very different from us.  They are one way in which we inoculate ourselves against the impartiality of the world.  I hope you’ll join me in giving sacrificially next Sunday to this contribution.

When my twin brother and I were very young, we found some candy in our parent’s bedroom.  There wasn’t a lot of it, but what was there, we ate.  Unfortunately, we got caught.  Our mom walked in on our little candy-snacking.  Even more unfortunately, the candy turned out not to be candy.  To everyone’s shock, my brother and I had just gorged on my mother’s birth control pills.  She called the doctor and we were rushed to the hospital.  Mom was terrified that we might have just poisoned ourselves.  Thankfully, everything eventually worked out.  But it was a toxic scare.  And, since that incident, I have been unable to get pregnant.

What almost happened to my brother and me happens frequently in the U. S.  According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, every day in the United States, nearly 90 people die as a result of unintentional poisoning.[1]  Another 2,000 are treated in emergency departments each day for unintentional poisoning.

Most of us realize that there are toxic poisons that threaten our lives.  Our medicine cabinets contain them.  Our kitchen cabinets conceal them.  And these toxins threaten our lives.

There are spiritual toxins as well.  That, in fact, is a theme in the book of James.  James is authored by James, the brother of Jesus.  It is addressed to a group of Christians who are suffering trials.  The letter was one of the earliest written in the New Testament.  It focuses on practical wisdom for daily living.  And one of its themes is “pure religion.”

In Jas. 1:27  James writes about “religion that is pure and undefiled.”  In some ways, the entire letter fleshes out that one verse.  James finds that there are toxic poisons threatening the spiritual lives of his readers.  James’ readers face the threat of a religion that is defiled and not pure.  This series will explore some of these toxins that make our religion defiled and not pure.  We’ll explore the toxins James highlights in the first half of James as we lead up to our Special Contribution for World and Urban Missions on April 29.  We’ll return to this series later this fall.

In Jas. 2:14-26 James identifies one of the most deadly toxins that makes our religion defiled not pure: ¹⁴ What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? ¹⁵  If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, ¹⁶  and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? ¹⁷ So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.  ¹⁸ But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. ¹⁹  You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder! ²⁰ Do you want to be shown, you foolish person, that faith apart from works is useless? ²¹  Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up his son Isaac on the altar?²² You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works; ²³ and the Scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”—and he was called a friend of God. ²⁴ You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. ²⁵ And in the same way was not also Rahab the prostitute justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? ²⁶ For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead. (James 2:14-16 ESV).

James distills our spiritual life down to two ingredients.  He calls them “faith” and “works.”  We could call them “orthodoxy” and “orthopraxy.”  We could call them “doctrine” and “deeds.”  When your spiritual life is boiled down to its essence, this is what remains—doctrine-what you believe; and deeds-how you live.

And James makes this diagnosis: A spiritual life consisting only of the right doctrine is deadly.  James finds that some Christians have the right doctrine.  James even quotes the Shema in vs. 19, the great statement in the Old Testament which served as the foundation for the Jewish faith and the Christian faith: “God is one.”  Yet even though James’ readers have this correct doctrine, they do not have correct deeds.  And the result is toxic.  James writes in vs. 26 that it leaves them “dead.”

James explores how this toxicity affects us vertically and horizontally.  Vertically, a doctrine-only life poisons our relationship with God.  James writes that when it comes to our relationship with God, faith without works is “useless.”  He writes that doctrine without deeds cannot “save” us.   When James writes in vs. 22 that faith is completed by works, the word “completed” means “matured” or “perfected.”  Just like healthy baby matures into an adult, so a healthy faith will mature into works.  The right doctrine will eventually manifest itself in the right deeds.  If it doesn’t, something’s gone wrong.  And that’s what God’s looking for.  James says that if we have a doctrine-only life that never grows in to deeds it’s deadly in terms of your relationship with God.

But it’s also deadly in terms of our relationships with others.  Horizontally, a doctrine-only life poisons our relationships with people.  Notice the illustration James provides: ¹⁵  If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, ¹⁶  and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? ¹⁷ So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.  James is asking, “What are you going to do when confronted by people who have needs?  If your doctrine-only faith does not mature into a deed-also-faith you’ll end up hurting those people.  People in need will end up dying because your doctrine-only faith doesn’t lead you to provide for them.   It’s deadly not only to your relationship with God but also to your relationship with others.

But when doctrine and deeds come together, amazing things happen.  James tells two stories.  First, James tells of Abraham—the father of the Jewish faith.  And though he had some less-than-stellar-moments, there came a time when Abraham’s doctrine expressed itself in the most amazing of deeds.  He came to realize that in order to do what God wanted, it was going to cost him his son Isaac.  He was going to have to sacrifice his son to follow God.  And what few fathers could do, Abraham did.  His faith acted.  And he made the greatest sacrifice a father can make.

Second, James tells of Rahab—Rahab the prostitute.  She worshiped a pagan god and was involved in ungodly living.  But when she heard the story of the God of Israel, she believed.  And she not only believed.  She acted on that belief.  She risked her life to hide Israelite spies who had come to her city.  And that made possible Israel’s first steps into the Promised Land.

This is the kind of healthy and vibrant life James calls us to.  A life in which doctrine gives birth to deeds.  A life of doctrine + deeds does tremendous good in the world.

Many of you have become aware of something that happened to Jab Mesa who runs the Melanesian Bible College in Papua New Guinea.  Highland has supported Jab and his ministry for decades.  As Jab was driving through a town recently, a young boy dashed into the road.  Though Jab tried to stop, he could not.  His car hit the boy and the boy died.  In that culture, when things like this happen, the driver is supposed to leave immediately and head to the police station.  Why?  To save his life.  Because it is not uncommon for those who witness an accident like this to riot and injure the driver.  Even though the accident was not Jab’s fault, it was likely that a mob was about to form and become violent.  So, Jab headed off.  But as he looked through his rear view mirror he could see the mother of the boy weeping and holding her dead son.  And he had to make a decision.  Was his religion going to be about doctrine only?  Or was it also going to be about deeds?  Jab is one of the most orthodox Christians I know.  He understand the teaching of the Bible and has taught the Bible at the Melanesian Bible College for years.  Few know doctrine like Jab Mesa.  But in that split second, Jab had to make a decision.  Would his religion be about doctrine only?  Or would it also be about deeds—even if those deeds were costly.  He made his decision quickly.  And Jab turned his car around.  Knowing he might be killed by a gathering mob, Jab returned to the scene of the accident.  He knew there was no way, as a follower of Jesus, that he could just ignore this tragedy.  He got out of his car and wept with the mother, expressed his heartfelt remorse, and tried to help the mother with her son.  His deeds caught everyone off guard.  It was extremely rare to see a man in this situation do something like this.  Once things finally settled down Jab headed to the police station and reported everything that had happened.  It is also customary in that culture for the family of a victim to make financial demands of someone who kills a family member—regardless of fault.  These demands can run as high as $50,000 U. S. dollars.  Jab is a school teacher in a tribal country.  He makes very little money.  A normal financial demand could have ruined him and his ministry.  But because of the compassion that Jab showed at the accident site and the love he continued to show the family through this process, the family asked for only about $11,000.  Those familiar with the culture said it was a remarkably low demand.  Jab met the family at the police station to deliver part of the money. He then promised that he would bring the rest of the money within a week.  He simply didn’t have that kind of cash.  He would raise it and bring it next week.  And at that promise, a family friend of the victim said this: “That man standing there is a man of God.  He is the voice behind the Sunday Sermons aired on the Local Radio…Now you see the face behind the sermons.  I trust him and his family and church of Christ family.  They will keep their word!”  Jab’s reputation as a man of good deeds and not just good doctrine enabled this family to trust that Jab would bring the rest of the money.  And then, in an almost unparalleled move, the family of the child who was killed visited Jab later in the week.  They brought food and gifts to show their deep respect for him.  The way he had acted toward them was so counter-cultural that they wanted to show their own love for him.  It was a stunning example of how, when deeds are combined with doctrine, amazing things happen.

HopeWorks is a ministry that puts faith into action.  HopeWorks is one way in which Christians across the city can move from of a toxic doctrine-only life into a life in which doctrine expresses itself in deeds which bless people.  Ron Wade is the Executive Director of HopeWorks and he’s joining me here today to help us see just what happens when doctrine and deeds come together on behalf of those in need…

Supporting HopeWorks is one way in which you can put your faith into action.  On April 29 you’ll have the chance to do just that.  We need to raise $129,000 on April 29 to fund the 20 world and urban missions which Highland partners with.  These ministries, like HopeWorks, put faith into action.  And as a result they do a tremendous good in the world.  You can put your faith into action by giving generously on that day.

And you can put your faith into action today by participating in Go MAD.  Sunday School classes, Reach Groups and other groups are headed out today to bless the MidSouth through deeds.  That’s what Go MAD is all about.  It’s about us being a community of people concerned not only with doctrine but also with deeds.

In his book Unspeakable Os Guinness tells the story of a Christian leader whose son had been killed in a cycling accident.[1]  Although this Christian leader was devastated he managed to suppress his grief, even preaching powerfully at his son’s funeral. His display of hope in the midst of tragedy led many to admire him.  But weeks after the funeral of his son, the man invited Guinness and a few friends to his house.  According to Guinness, this man then proceeded to speak and scream “not with the hope of a preacher but with the hurt of the father—pained and furious at God, dark and bilious in his blasphemy.”  It must have been a moving and troubling scene: a strong Christian leader screaming at God, dark and bilious in his blasphemy.

I recently heard an interview with Grammy winning Christian musician Stephen Curtis Chapman.  In a tragic accident in 2008 Chapman’s his five year old daughter was killed.  Chapman described that catastrophe and the years following it as “dark times.”

“Dark” is an appropriate description for how many of us feel in the face of death.  Almost universally, when death hits, darkness falls.  Even people of deep Christian faith experience darkness in the presence of death.  We often stumble in the dark times associated with death. 

This is true even of the first followers of Jesus.  In John 11 we witness a tragic death.  It involves a man named Lazarus.  Larzarus has two sisters-Mary and Martha.  Ten times in John 11 John reminds us that Lazarus, Mary and Martha are siblings.  John doesn’t refer to their family connection just one time.  He refers to it ten times.  John wants us to feel the deep love between this trio of sister, sister and brother.

Lazarus, Mary and Martha dwell in Bethany, a small village outside of Jerusalem.  Their home is a kind of hideaway for Jesus.  He seems to have spent significant time in their home.  Jesus is unusually close to Lazarus, Mary and Martha.

But Lazarus gets sick.  Jesus is some distance away when Lazarus falls ill.  Jesus has been run out of Jerusalem by a violent mob.  Mary and Martha thus send someone to find Jesus and tell him that Lazarus is not well.  The searcher finally finds Jesus and announces, “Lord, he whom you love is ill” (Jn. 11:3 ESV).  Immediately the sense of potential tragedy deepens.  Because not only is this a brother beloved by Mary and Martha.  This is a friend beloved by Jesus.  “Lord, he whom you love is ill.”

A few days later, Lazarus is dead.  Was it bone cancer?  Was it pneumonia?  Was it an infectious disease?  Was it a bad heart?  We don’t know.  But Lazarus is dead.  According to Jn. 11:38, they bury Lazarus in a small cave and roll a stone in front of the tomb.  It’s reminiscent of the scene after Jesus’ death.  They bury him in a small tomb and roll the stone in front of it.

And Jesus knows how hard people are going to take this death.  So he says this to his disciples in Jn. 11:10, “But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.”  This is veiled language.  But Jesus seems to be implying that when people are hit with a death like Lazarus’ death, some wind up stumbling as if they are walking in the dark.  “But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles…”  So often when death arrives darkness falls.  It causes even people of deep faith to stumble.

Lazarus’ death seems to cause Mary and Martha to stumble.  When Jesus finally arrives, Martha runs to him and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (Jn. 11:22 ESV).  A little later, Mary says the same thing, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (Jn. 11:32 ESV).  Mary and Martha are tripping around in the darkness of Lazarus’ death.

This scene is portrayed in a moving way in a recent film about Jesus: [PP http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JR1ku3kE2lY to 0:38 - 1:35 ]

In an old movie from the 1960’s Max Van Sydow plays Jesus.  As Jesus approaches Mary and Martha, Martha runs to him and scolds him: “Come to bury the dead?  Or have you come to feed the mourners?  You made a leper well.  You made a cripple walk.  Was it too much to ask that you keep my brother from dying?  Why do you come now that he is dead, when you could have come when he lived, when he needed you?  Why?”  We often stumble in the darkness associated with death.

And yet Jesus promises that there is another way to experience such tragedy.  Listen to what Jesus tells his disciples before they make their way to Lazarus’ tomb: “If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world” (Jn. 11:9 ESV).  Again, this is veiled language.  But Jesus seems to be implying that it is possible to face the death of a loved one and walk steady and stable as if walking in the light of day.  It’s possible to encounter times associated with tragedy and not have darkness but have light instead.

How is this possible?  How is it possible to find light in one of life’s darkest times?  Jesus puts it this way to Martha: “I am the resurrection and the life” (Jn. 11:25 ESV).  This is the last of the “I Am” statements of Jesus.  It is the climactic statement.  In this Sunday morning series we’ve heard Jesus promise to be the bread of our life; the light of our world; our door and our shepherd; our way, truth and life; and our vine.  One of the reasons I’ve called this series “Slice” is that each of these “I am” statements gives us a slice of the whole picture of Jesus.  But this “I am” statement is perhaps the biggest slice of all.  When it comes to the tragedy of death, Jesus wants us to know that he is the resurrection and the life.  And this is what makes it possible to face death with a different perspective.  Because Jesus is the resurrection and the life, we do not have to stumble in the dark times associated with death. Instead, we can walk steadily as if in the light of day.

And Jesus not only makes this claim.  He proves this claim: ³⁸ Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. ³⁹ Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” ⁴⁰ Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” ⁴¹ So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. ⁴²  I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” ⁴³ When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” ⁴⁴  The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” (Jn. 11:38-44 ESV).  Jesus proves that he is the resurrection and the life.  Death has no chance in the face of Jesus.

A Puritan writer once said that if Jesus had not named Lazarus when He shouted, he would have emptied the whole cemetery!^[2]  No doubt this is true.  Jesus not only speaks this climactic “I am” statement.  He proves it.  He raises this man Lazarus from the dead.  And because Jesus is the resurrection and the life, we no longer have to stumble in the darkness.  We can walk in the light.

Two years ago Rick and Beverly Ross lost their daughter Jenny.  Jenny’s brother Josh is a friend of mine.  Rick and Beverly recently wrote about Jenny’s death:[3]  “Two years ago today, my family was halfway through the roller coaster ride of our 31-year old daughter Jenny’s struggle for her life. The previous week she had gone to the doctor, been diagnosed with the swine flu, and sent home with a prescription of Tamiflu.  Three days later, she was much worse. At the hospital we discovered that she had been misdiagnosed. Actually, she had Group-A strep, and it had gone untreated for days – throwing her body into septic shock. It ravaged her body like a wildfire. After a cruel battle, she went to be with Jesus on February 22, 2010.  As my wife and I walked down the ICU hallway after leaving Jenny’s room, Beverly asked, ‘What do we do now?’ Being the task-oriented person I am, I thought she was referring to making arrangements. But what she meant was, ‘How do we do life now?’ ‘How do we take our next step?’ ‘How do we breathe our next breath?’ Beverly is a licensed marriage and family therapist, so she knew that grieving would be difficult physically and emotionally. But as she later said, ‘What I didn’t anticipate was the spiritual eruption. Death created a spiritual earthquake and left me searching through the rubble to find the remnants of my faith.’  Paula D’Archy once said, ‘I know this, you can’t die from crying . . . or I’d be dead.’ Never having been a crier, I have now come to appreciate her words over the last couple of years. Just a couple of weeks after Jenny’s death, my oldest son, Josh, a minister in Memphis, TN, called me one Sunday morning and said that we, a family of ministers, would be ‘playing wounded’ for a while. He reminded me of how Emmitt Smith played one of his greatest games with a separated shoulder. And I totally understand and agree with what Josh said, as two years later we continue to ‘play wounded.’ But many are the times I have thought that I would rather play with a separated shoulder than with a broken heart.  Still, I often think of something Jenny said several years ago as she struggled with secondary infertility. She said, ‘I want people to remember me as someone who, even when she didn’t get her way, praised the Lord.’ And that is what we as a family choose to do. As Beverly has said, ‘Our family has been called to do hard, so we will do hard.’  Being a minister, I have come to view grief in a totally different light. Grief that, too often, I had naively assumed passed in a couple of months. I had mourned the death of my father and my father-in-law. But I had never known grief – not like this. Now, when I hear about a teenager killed in a car wreck or a young mother who died of breast cancer, my first thoughts go to the families. Oh, what grief!  Paul asked the question in 1 Corinthians 15, ‘O death, where is your sting?’ I can tell him. It is piercing the hearts of people who lose loved ones. Oh, I know that through Jesus, the sting has been ultimately removed. But it sure feels like a swarm of killer bees right now.  There are so many spiritual things that I used to KNOW that I don’t know anymore. Lots of things I once had tied up – that now look like a fishing reel when it has ‘bird-nested.’ But I am taking the advice of a fellow minister, John Scott, who told Beverly and me to ‘learn to be content in the mystery. I am learning to live the words of Anselm of Canterbury, who once prayed, ’I do not try to understand you so that I can trust you. I trust you so I can understand you.’  Some people have insinuated that they will be glad when Beverly and I ‘get back to normal.’ I know they mean well and only have our best interests at heart. But what they need to know is that this IS our new normal. Our lives have been forever changed by the events of two years ago. In some ways, even for the better. I am a better minister today as I walk with the bereaved. And my faith has been put to the test in such a way that I no longer wonder how I would respond in the face of real persecution. I have learned what trust REALLY means. That word is huge to me today. Trust. And hope. And peace.  So, back to Beverly and me as we walked out of ICU that day nearly two years ago. We stopped in the hallway and looked into each other’s eyes. She said, ‘Remind me what we believe.’ And I stood in that moment speechless. It seemed like an eternity, although it was only a second or two. ‘Remind me what we believe.’ And in that moment, with all of the theological positions and views I have often thought were so important, only four words came from my mouth: ‘The tomb is empty.’  When life was at its darkest, I can imagine that Mary and Martha may have asked Jesus this question, “What do we believe, Jesus?  In the face of this tragedy, what do we believe?”  And Jesus, in answer, raised Lazarus from the dead.  And God, in answer, raised Jesus from the dead.  What do we believe?  The answer is found in these four words: The tomb is empty.

A few weeks ago in this series I talked about Van Gogh.  Scot McKnight writes about Van Gogh.[4]  He says that if you follow Van Gogh’s life, you find a gradual increase of the color yellow in his paintings.  For Van Gogh, the color yellow indicated the hope and warmth of the love of God.  The more yellow you found in a painting by Van Gogh, the more you could assume that on the day he painted that piece, Van Gogh believed the world was filled with the light of God’s love.   A few weeks ago we looked at a painting filled with darkness.  It seemed to point to a time when Van Gogh could see very little of the light of God’s love.  But there is another painting which Van Gogh created later in life.  It overflows with yellow.  It’s filled with light.  And not surprisingly, it is called “The Raising of Lazarus.” This entire picture is bathed in warm light.  Some even believe that Van Gogh painted his own face on Lazarus to personalize this painting.  What’s Van Gogh saying?  He’s saying that even at the darkest times, in the face of the death of a beloved brother and friend like Lazarus, it’s possible for the world to be filled with light.

Jesus wants you to know that in the darkness of death, it’s possible to not stumble and not fall.  It’s possible to find light in the midst of that darkness.  It’s possible because of one climactic claim of Jesus: “I am the resurrection and the life.”  It’s possible because of the undeniable truth of four simple words: “The tomb is empty.”  Say them out loud with me: “The tomb is empty.”