Amen

Passage: 1 Thessalonians 5:1-24

The life of God’s people is defined by the experience of waiting. The patriarch of Israel, Abraham, waits most of his life for a son. His waiting is prompted by a promise God makes to Abraham at the beginning of their journey together:
I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you. (Genesis 12:2-3)

Abraham and his wife, Sarah, eventually have a son. But they don’t get to see the rest of God’s promise fulfilled. This is also true of the Israelites whom God rescues from slavery in Egypt. Most of them spend 40 years trekking toward the Promised Land, only to die in the wilderness. The author of Hebrews points out that none of the notable characters of the Old Testament get to witness all the good things God says he has in store for them. He says,
All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. (Hebrews 11:13)

In one of his letters to the church in Thessalonica, the Apostle Paul encourages his friends to keep the faith. They are simply one generation in countless who have shaped their lives in anticipation of “the Day of the Lord” – the moment when God brings his redemption plan to complete fulfillment. Paul says the same things Jesus says to his disciples: “Watch; wait; and don’t settle. Don’t give in to the darkness of fleeting pleasure and momentary gratification. Hold out for the better thing God has in store. It will be here before you know it.”

I’m reminded of one Christmas Eve when I was a kid. My family was staying at my grandmother’s condo. I restlessly sat through an interminable evening of holiday dinner, hot chocolate and fruitcake and conversation. I finally got tucked into bed and thought I’d never go to sleep. After all, we wouldn’t open our stockings and gifts until Christmas morning. Would it ever get here? Even as I thought it my eyelids got heavy. I blinked. When I opened my eyes, I heard my mom and dad and grandma’s soft voices in the kitchen. The clink of dishes. Were they cleaning up? Then I smelled my grandma’s Christmas morning coffee cake. That’s strange – why would she be making it tonight? I got up and wandered out to the living room. There were the stockings. The table set for breakfast. It was Christmas morning. It had arrived before I knew it.

Paul and Jesus’ other apostles have their eye on the prize. They live restlessly, unwilling to settle for temporary fixes. Yet they also live with peace, knowing that their reunion with the Savior will be worth the wait. Hold out for better, says Paul. In all circumstances give thanks, because God is with you. Never stop praying. Never lose hope.

The conclusion of the Catechism addresses the conclusion of the Lord’s Prayer:
Q: What does that little word "Amen" express?
A: Amen means, “This is sure to be!” It is even more sure that God listens to my prayer, than that I really desire what I pray for.

The deepest desire of every human heart is Shalom – the restoration of all things. The Day of the Lord is the day that Christ returns and makes all things the way they were meant to be. Our longing for greater security; deeper intimacy; personal advancement; justice and peace – this is a longing for that which is broken in our world to be healed. God promises to bring ultimate healing. When we seal our prayer with the word Amen, we declare our conviction that if God said it, he’ll do it. Receive the blessing with which Paul concludes 1 Thessalonians:
May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it! Amen.

Your Enemy

Passage: 1 Peter 5:1-11

One of my favorite episodes of The Simpsons is entitled, “Homer’s Enemy”. In this episode Homer gets a new coworker at the power plant – a young man named Frank Grimes. Frank gets his job because he’s been featured in a local news story detailing the great adversity he has overcome over the course of his life. Inspired by the story, Mr. Burns, the owner of the power plant, insists that they hire him immediately. When Frank arrives at the plant he’s appalled by Homer’s lackadaisical approach to his job (nuclear safety inspector). The more time he spends with Homer, the more Frank is incensed that someone so incompetent could get everything he wants out of life. Frank gets madder and madder; and in spite of Homer’s attempts to make friends with him, Frank at a certain point declares, “I’m not your friend. I’m your enemy!” (“What, me, the most beloved man in all of Springfield?”)

It’s easier to make enemies than it is to make friends. All someone has to do is laugh at the wrong point in a conversation. Respond a little too tersely to an email. Look at us wrong in the grocery line. Cut us off on the expressway. Instant enemy. Sometimes we discover that we, like Homer, have unwittingly become someone else’s enemy. Just by being ourselves. We’re quick to find people to blame; quick to find people to hate. And quick to find ourselves at the receiving end of the same.

The authors of the New Testament point out that when we do this we’re making a huge mistake. No person should be the focus of our hatred. And no person should be held responsible for our unhappiness. We only have one enemy. It’s not Al Qaida, or the axis of evil, or the Democrats. Or Republicans. It’s Satan and his forces. In Ephesians 6 the Apostle Paul says,
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God…

If we aren’t careful, we become pawns of the forces of evil. How? By targeting each other. By shunning and attacking other people – people who are equally enticed and enslaved by the forces pulling at us. God’s intent is to set all of us free from the power of sin and death. To free us from fear – which causes us to see enemies where none exist – and temptation – which causes us to take without regard for the damage done to others.

In its final Lord’s Day, the Catechism identifies the fact that on our own we can’t resist the weapons of our true enemy. The fear he breeds and the temptation he wields strike us where we are weakest. So we appeal to God. He fortifies us against temptation by promising to give us what we really need. And he braces us against fear by promising to preserve our life forever. Protected by God’s armor, we remain vigilant and prepared for the enemy’s attacks. And we remain open and vulnerable to each other, recognizing in everyone a potential ally, friend, and family member in Christ.

Dependents

Passage: Hosea 2:8-23

Hosea is one of those books in which God comes across as a bit unreasonable. At the very beginning of the book, God commands his prophet, Hosea, to marry a "promiscuous woman." Why, pray tell? So that Hosea's marriage can be a living metaphor for God's relationship with his people. Hosea complies, marrying Gomer, a woman who proves to be perennially unfaithful. Hosea provides for Gomer; loves her; and takes her back every time. He even buys her back when she sells herself into slavery. "How does it feel," says God, "to be married to someone; to pour yourself out for them; to give them everything they need, only to have them reject you? Only to have them say, 'I don't need you.'" This, says God, is what my people do to me again and again.

Not so sure? To what extent do you think of yourself as independent? Self-sufficient? How often do you ask God to give you the basic necessities of life - or thank him for them? God says to us, "Whether you admit it or not, you've gotten everything from me. I've given you most of what you have without you even having asked for it first!" God says, "I've been nothing but faithful to you. And yet again and again you attribute my blessings to someone else!"

God's relationship with us is one of mercy. God in his mercy seeks us out. Buys us back. Gives us everything we need for body and soul. What does God ask in return? Gratitude. Generosity. The admission that we are what we are: dependents. Thank God that he's allowed us to depend on him, body and soul, in life and in death.

Programming

Passage: Matthew 18:1-9

In Matthew 18 Jesus adds to his long list of cryptic teachings, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” That’d be great advice if nothing ever had to get done in the Kingdom of Heaven. If all anyone had to do was run around and play and have fun, and no one had to eat a properly cooked meal, or run a business, or teach anyone anything. Right?

Those of us who are engaged in the work of the Kingdom know how important it is to be educated. Have business savvy. Know how to fix stuff. Get stuff done.

Here’s the problem. Those of us who know how to get stuff done learned our skills within a broken system. We learned in an environment that taught us to be self-sufficient and hard. We carry into the Kingdom the baggage of a world that has made us cynical and selfish. As we try to engage the work and life of the Kingdom our programming keeps getting in the way. We rank ourselves according to attractiveness, success, and goodness. We impose rules about whose opinion matters and whose gifts are valuable. And before you know it, what we think is the Kingdom of Heaven turns out to be just another broken-down kingdom of our own making.

Jesus says, “If you want to be part of my Kingdom, leave your programming at the door. You don’t have to build it or run it. It was working fine before you got here. Empty your hands and your pockets; drop your bags. Then come on in.” The Kingdom is huge, but the door leading in is really small. Only big enough to let in really little people. People unencumbered by big egos and big baggage. Entering the Kingdom of Heaven is a matter of going back to the beginning. Rediscovering innocence and simplicity. Being relieved of your guile and your savvy and your shame. Starting fresh. Reprogramming.