June 23, 2016 - "Taming the Wild Soul" - Palms Westminster

1 Kings 19.1-8; Luke 8.26-33

Two stories of salvation … 

A prophet wild and wonderful … 

A man of the tombs, lost and violent …

The work of God.

Have you ever thought about how hard it must be to be God?

Years ago, reading a book about God … 

Pondering the many stories of the Bible.

How hard it is to be God.

For the first time in my life, I wept for God.

The burdens God carries.

The sorrows of God’s heart.

Because God took a chance creating us.

The flowers and the trees are all good, and give delight to the heart of God.

The soaring mountains and the roaring sea are a pleasure for the eyes of God.

The whole of the universe … billions of years old … distances so vast we cannot comprehend them … 

All of it good, all of it pleasing to God.

And, then, there’s us - the strangest of all God’s creatures … we are dirt and dust, like everything else, and unlike everything else, we are the breath of God.

The Psalmist says: We are created just a little less than the angels.

And speaking of angels, I have often thought of them watching God create the heavens and earth, cheering God on, smiling and celebrating the glories of God’s majesty and the wonders of creation.

And then God said: Let us create humankind in our image.

Did the angels hold their breath?

Wondering about the final drama of creation?

Did the angels offer a word of caution to God?

O God, it won’t work.

Are you sure about this?

Combing dirt and divinity?

What a strange amalgam we are.

The breath of God wrapped up in flesh and bone.

We’re full of will and energy.

We’re finite and mortal, with longings for eternity. 

We dream and desire, yet we’re given to death.

The breath of God within us, yet dust to dust we are.

Created by God to care for the Garden.

Yet so easily misled by the Serpent.

God gave us everything in the Garden.

With the exception of one tree … the Tree of final knowledge, the knowledge of good, and evil.

A tree that belongs exclusively to God.

A tree only God can tend.

But Adam and Eve weren’t satisfied.

They wanted to be like God; they wanted final knowledge.

This one tree.

This luscious fruit.

So Adam and Eve took the fruit, to be like God, and in that desperate moment, the very nature of creation was changed.

Where there was light, there is darkness now.

Where there was hope, there is despair.

Where there was life, there is fear.

Where there was love, there is hatred and blame, scheming and greed, violence and murder and war …

As the story unfolds in the Book of Genesis, we learn that God had second thoughts about everything, and like the song from the musical, South Pacific:

Gonna wash this man right outa my hair …

Don’t try to patch it up.

Tear it up, tear it up!

Wash him out, dry him out.

Push him out, fly him out.

Cancel and let him go.

….

I’m gonna wash that man right outa my hair

The flood, the earth destroyed, but for an ark.

Noah and his family, the animals, two-by-two … saved for another day … when the flood is over, Noah and his family start all over … but it doesn’t take long for the whole thing to fall apart, all over again … the flood created a mess, and it didn’t solve the problem.

Now, what am to do? asks God.

What am I to do?

From the prophet Hosea, these very words:

What shall I do with you, O Ephraim?

      What shall I do with you, O Judah?

      Your love is like a morning cloud,

      like the dew that goes away early.

It’s not easy being God.

And though we often say to ourselves, If I were God, here’s what I would do.

But we’re not God, though a little bit like God.

We have wild souls.

We are given to all sorts of dark thoughts and mean deeds.

Put us in a mob, and it’s a mess.

The mob cries for death and war.

Crucify him, crucify him, the mob cries.

What is God to do?

The story of Elijah has alway intrigued me.

Elijah, the prophet of God.

Impetuous, impatient, given to violence.

He loves fire and blood.

And sees to the death of all the false prophets: 450 prophets of Baal; 400 prophets Ashera … all killed, dead and gone.

Victory turns unexpectedly to fear.

Queen Jezebel issues a death sentence for Elijah, and Elijah flees for his life into the wilderness, there to be fed by an angle, to find a cave, and there to hide … Elijah no longer the victor, but now the hunted; he’s bitter, full of self-pity: I’m the only one left, he says … the only one who is faithful. Nobody cares but me.

God pays Elijah a visit … No Elijah, you’re not the only one … I have faithful people all over the place … so get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath, and pay attention.

There was a great wind, so strong it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks, but God wasn’t in the wind.

Then an earthquake, and God wasn’t in earthquake, either.

Then a fire, and God wasn’t in the fire.

Then, after all that noise, all that violence, all that raw power … there was silence … sheer silence, unnerving, disturbing … a deep quiet … and therein was God.

Elijah wrapped his mantle around his face … humbled and saved … his wild soul tamed.

By the cave, in the wilderness, Elijah learns something about life: violence leads nowhere, blood spilled, even in the name of God, is not the way to life … the way of the sword is the way of death … Jesus himself said: those who live by the sword die by the sword.

Elijah was tamed that day by the great love of God, tempered a bit, revived and commissioned again … because work needed to be done … his wild soul needed to be tamed.

The second tale we tell is the man of the tombs, on the other side of the Sea of Galilee … and why Jesus is there at that moment, only God knows for sure, but this much we know, it’s the love of God at work … in a man wild and willful, full of demons … a legion of demons, cursing and screaming.

The man rushes to Jesus and cries out in protest … with mercy and kindness, Jesus sets the man free … to return to his home, no longer a wild man, but a man restored to his senses … with a story to tell of Jesus and his goodness … a story to tell to the nations.

Across the pages of Scripture, dramatic stories to highlight the plight of humanity - and the mercy of God …

To keep the story going … the story of life, hope and goodness … there is work to be done, but not the work of a sword, but the work of mercy and peace.

It’s never easy to do the work of God … and in Christ we see the final outworking of what that means … not a sword, but a cross … Jesus takes upon himself the sins of the world, the sorrows of humankind, not by violence, but with mercy.

All of us here today are beneficiaries of that story … here we are, creatures of dirt and divinity … each us, by the Holy Spirit, souls tamed by the love of God, brought close to Christ and close to one another in the great fellowship of faith.

Elijah was recommissioned that day with work to be done … the man of the tombs was sent back home to share his story.

Souls tamed by the mercy of God.

I doubt if any of us here are quite as wild as Elijah … I’m quite sure none of us here are as the man of the tombs.

But each of us in our way has a soul given to the darker side of things … in each of us, there is something of Elijah, in each of us, something of the man of the tombs.

The Holy Spirit comes to us, with the love of Christ, gently and purposefully, to tame our souls, that we might tame the world.

To the glory of God, and for the healing of the nations. Hallelujah and Amen!

Model

Matthew 20:20-28

I’ve been blessed with good role models.
Family … church and school.

My father died when I was 22, but he left me some good memories.

My mother, a troubled person, nonetheless gave me a sense of humor and a passion for reading.

I had a favorite uncle who was always kind … and a favorite aunt who always made me feel ten feet tall.

After my father died, I grew close to Donna’s parents – they were great!

I remember good pastors … men (and it was only men, then) who preached with conviction and content … and a 3rd grade Sunday School teacher named Bert … I think his brother was named Ernie.

Going to a Christian high school, I had some terrific teachers who modeled a life of faith and learning … and those models were reinforced at Calvin College.

Don Wilson, an anthropology professor, opened my eyes to other cultures, and the cultural mistakes made too often by the church.

Roger Rice, a sociology professor, made it possible for me to shed my prejudice.

Wallace Bratt, a Bible professor, welded together faith and science.

Then on to seminary – professors who modeled intelligence and faith.

Lester Kuyper, my Hebrew professor – we called him the student – he’d bounce into the classroom all a-smile, to tell us all about his latest discovery … I’ll never forget one occasion: as he had on hundreds of similar mornings, he was reading and studying the Hebrew Bible, when he solved a 20-year old translation problem.

My own wife: to her I owe a debt of gratitude – she has modeled for me everything good and kind … a wife of endurance and forgiveness … a mother of much love and devotion.

All along my way, God has provided a wealth of role models … ordinary people who lived ordinary lives with faith, hope and love.

I’ve have never lived this life on my own … but have been surrounded by a cloud of witnesses pointing the way to Jesus.

And even now my own children demonstrate wisdom and courage, faithfulness and kindness … I have learned the joy of listening to my children – their take on things, the books they read and the views they hold.

A cloud of witnesses on every side …

God be praised for everyone of them …

We all have our own role models, don’t we?

Women and men who influenced us, told us good stories; fired our imagination; believed in us – pastors, teachers, youth directors, Sunday School teachers, choir directors, college professors, counselors, and the list goes on.

But most of all … at the center of our stories … Jesus!
In His light, we see light.
He is the image of the invisible God … He is the head of the body … He’s the vine and we are the branches … He’s the Alpha and the Omega … He’s the Bread of Heaven and the Living water.
Karl Barth says: “Everything that deserves to be called knowledge in the Christian sense lives from the knowledge of Jesus Christ” (Dogmatics in Outline, p. 67).

Through Jesus and His story, we learn our story.

Let’s take a look at a delightful story from Matthew 20:20-28 – read text here …

Mom goes to bat for her boys … and boys they were – likely in their late teens, early twenties at the most – their Mom goes to bat for them.

Ever done that for one of your children?
Go the soccer coach and suggest that your daughter should have made first string?
Go to the teacher and defend your son’s behavior?
Go to a neighbor whose son beat up your boy?
Or that catty little girl down the street who lied about your daughter?

It’s called a parent’s heart – there’s nothing more devoted or more determined … nothing more ferocious if a child has been harmed, or in some way slighted.

I have a parent’s heart, and you do, too.
Let something happen, or not happen, and we’re prepared to move heaven and earth for the sake of our children.

Mama went to bat for her boys!

She believed that Jesus was going to be something … and when he made it big, she wanted her boys to be there.

She asks with great politeness … she kneels before Jesus and puts her case – when the time comes, I want my two boys to be at your side.

Do ya’ think Mama came up with this all by herself?
Or did the boys prompt her?

Did James or John say, Mama, can ya’ put in a good word for us?

And what’s a Mama to do?

But things get a little dicey right now … Jesus sees ahead alright, to what’s going to be … neither fame nor fortune; He’s not going to be voted “most likely to succeed” – no, it’s a hard road He sees… the road to Calvary and the Cross.

When the other disciples hear about it, they’re furious.
They’d been trumped.
Do ya’ think they wanted to ask the same favor?
A little competition here?
A little jealousy?

“How come my name didn’t get into the bulletin?”
“Edna gets the award, but I worked just as hard as she did!”
“Why did they ask Jim to be an elder instead of me?”

We all feel these things, don’t we?

Preachers do, too.

“Rev. Hairdo down the street has the big church, but I’m just as good.”
“I could write a book, too, if I wanted.”
“I should have been asked to be the chairperson.”
“How come she gets all the notice, and no one notices me?”

This remarkable moment: two clear examples of human nature on the darker side … grasping for position, and angry when we’ve been bested by someone else.

Yes, it’s a portrait of humanity … a portrait of you and me.

Well, at least you! Ha!

Jesus uses this as a teaching moment … to say something to these good women and men who mean so much to Him … how He loves them … but they’re eyes are clouded by dreams of fame, their hearts disturbed by jealousy.

Yup, it’s not always a pretty picture.

I’m reminded of the poet, Robert Burns …

Burns is in church one Sunday
Behind a lovely young lady
Hair all done up
Beautiful bonnet of ribbons and bows
And there upon her hat,
Crawls a louse.

Burns ends his poem:

O would some Power the gift to give us
To see ourselves as others see us!

The Bible mirrors our humanity …
God’s gift … to see ourselves … not always a pretty picture … but a necessary step to move on …
Read the Bible … it’s an honest piece of work.
Genesis has more dysfunctional families then Dr. Phil.
Scheming brothers …
Lustful maidens …
Boastful men …
Violence and villainy .
In the remarkable Tony Randall film, Seven Faces of Dr. Lao (1964), there’s a remarkable moment when someone says to the bad guy, “Who wants to lose?”
The bad guy says, “I do. Every time I bet on weakness, corruption, fallibility, I want to lose. But I always win.”

A bit later, he tells the “good guy:”
“I used to be just like you, a long time ago.”
“I believed in the dignity of man, decency, humanity. But I was lucky. I found out the truth early. It’s all very simple. There’s no such thing as the dignity of man. Man is a base, pathetic, vulgar animal.”
Well, the truth be told, we’re not always a pretty picture, are we?

O would some power gift to give us
To see ourselves as others see us.

Am I not like these disciples?
Their Mama?

Is this not my story?
Your story?

Of course it is.

O would some power gift to give us
To see ourselves as others see us.

But if jaded characters see only the worst …
God sees something else.

Jesus sees the original design …
Jesus reveals a counter-portrait …
Alternative image …
Something better …

To those disciples who wanted to sit on top of the heap, Jesus says:

You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them … not so for you!

Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant.
Whoever wishes to be first must be your slave.

How does that sound?
That’s a counter-portrait if I’ve ever heard one.
Runs against the grain doesn’t it?
Like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.

The next story provides a counterpoint in action:
Jesus and the disciples on their way out of Jericho meet two blind men by the road … they cry for mercy, and Jesus asks, What do you want me to do for you?

His question is all the more poignant for what just happened.
James and John ask for position and privilege.

What will the two blind men ask for?

LORD, let our eyes be opened!”

Jesus is moved with compassion, says the text; He touches their eyes, and immediately they regain their sight and follow Him.

They’re blind but now they see.
James and John are blind, too … their blindness is harder to cure.

O would some power gift to give us
To see ourselves as others see us.

To see ourselves, yes, as we often are …
And to see ourselves for something better.

To let Jesus be our model.
To spend time with Him.
To get acquainted with Him.
To let His grace make us gracious.
His mercy, merciful.
His kindness, kindly.
His love, loving.

To be like Jesus … hmmm … sounds like a tall order, doesn’t it?

But this is what God is working for in our life.
To conform us to the image of His Son … in order that He might be the firstborn within a large family … (Romans 8:29).

That folks could look at us and say, “You look just like your older brother. You sort of walk like Him, talk like Him, and carry on like Him.”

Now let’s be clear.
Jesus is no wallflower.
His passion puts Him front and center.
His goal is the glory of God.
And that means challenging the powers that be.
It means breaking all sorts of conventions and violating all sorts of laws.

Jesus never takes a backseat when it comes to setting things right.

He takes profound chances for the welfare of others.

That’s the role model Jesus sets before us.
What it could be like when human beings discover their true potential for greatness …
Not the greatness of the world – but the greatness of God’s kingdom.

Who are your role models?

I’m grateful for those who have modeled the Christian life.
I’m grateful most of all for Jesus my LORD.

Amen!