Thursday, April 26, 2012

Four-Part Harmony


The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Colossians 2:20-3:5
April 21/22, 2012 • Portage First UMC
Christianity—and the church—has an image problem. That’s what researcher David Kinnaman discovered when his friend Gabe Lyons asked him to do a study to figure out why people—particularly younger people—are turning away from the church. What started as a 3-month project turned into a 3-year study for Kinnaman as he poured over data gained through surveys and conversations. The result was a book called unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity. That’s how they discovered the church’s image problem—specifically, that nearly forty percent of “outsiders” (people who aren’t part of any church) have a bad impression of present-day Christianity. And that bad impression is rooted in real beliefs. For instance, 91% of outsiders see the church as antihomosexual, 87% see the church as judgmental, and 85% see it as hypocritical. After those top three, other images emerge as well: old-fashioned, too involved in politics, out of touch with reality, insensitive to others (particularly those of other faiths), boring and confusing (Kinnaman; Hamilton, When Christians Get It Wrong, pg. 3). The church has a problem, and much of it is our own fault. We’ve failed to be who God calls us to be.
Last week, we began a series of sermons called “The Good and Beautiful Community,” and for the next few weeks, we’re going to explore what the Bible has to say about what the church—the community of Christ—ought to be. Last week, Pastor Deb got us started thinking about the right way to be peculiar in the world, because Christians, as Peter described us, are a “peculiar people.” We’re a community of “odd ducks.” But we’re also a hopeful community. Here, in this season of Easter, that should be more obvious than at any other time of the year. We serve a risen savior, not a dead teacher. We live with hope for life beyond this one, and we also live with hope in this life. The church is a hopeful community, but somewhere along the way, that message has not gotten out. When many in the new generation see us as judgmental or hypocritical or out of touch or old-fashioned, it tells me that the real message of the Gospel has gotten lost. And the fault, if the message of hope has not gotten beyond the doors of this building, falls squarely on us who have failed to live as people of hope. In fact, in Kinnaman’s research, when asked if the Christian faith offered hope for the future, only 9% answered “a lot.” Nine percent! What we need is not more PR. What we need is to live this hope we have in the real world, in authentic ways, and to share the story that is full of hope. Peter put it this way: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15). A hopeful community shares their hope with others. That’s what the church is.
We get this idea, though, that only certain people can share their faith. You know—the Billy Grahams, or the ones who have “the gift” of evangelism, ones who know their Bible well, or who speak well, or who are confident in their faith. Have you ever said or thought any of these things? “I’m afraid I would offend someone if I shared my faith.” “If I talk about my faith, they will reject me. They’ll think I’m odd.” Or peculiar? “I’m not educated enough to share my faith.” “I’m not a perfect Christian, so I’d feel like a hypocrite if I shared my faith.” These and many other statements are ways we convince ourselves that we don’t have to or we can’t be a witness for Jesus—even though being a witness is one of the things we agree to when we become part of the church. Only four percent of United Methodists ever share their faith with someone even once in their entire life. We convince ourselves we can’t. We’re not perfect—none of us are. We don’t know all the answers—none of us do. And even if we’re not good at sharing our faith, we can get better. We work at getting better at cooking or tennis or baseball or computers or learning a language—whatever it is we’re interested in. Why are we not willing to work at getting better at sharing our faith (Smith, The Good and Beautiful Community, pgs. 44-47)? Others are watching your life and listening to your words, and because some of us haven’t always lived our faith consistently or ever talked about God’s love, we end up with the sorts of images the world has now of the church, the images Kinnaman discovered. What does it take to be better at giving a reason for the hope we have?
Well, we have to be people of hope ourselves. Hope, defined, is “confidence in a good future” (Smith 47). And, as Christians, our hope comes from knowing and internalizing our story. Paul is helping the Colossians do just that in the passage we read this evening/morning. He’s writing to a church that is struggling to know who it is, what it believes, and how it should live that belief out. Sound familiar? He doesn’t want them to be deceived by “fine-sounding arguments” (2:4), but rather to be “strengthened in the faith” (2:7). To help them with this, he reminds them of four parts of their story. If it were a song, it would be four notes that, together, make a beautiful harmony. It’s the story of Jesus, which is our story as well, because our hope comes from him. So what I want to do with the remainder of our time today is to remind you of our story—Jesus’ story of hope—and then suggest a way we can share that story in our world, a way we can be ready to give a reason for our hope.
So what is our four-part harmony, our four-part story of hope? I’m going to give you four words to remember (you might even want to write them down) that is the outline of our hope-filled story, and the first one is this: death. Now, wait a minute, you say, I though this was a story of hope. Listen to how Paul describes it. He says this: “You died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God” (3:3). The Christian story of hope begins with death—certainly Paul is thinking of Jesus’ death on the cross, but he tells the Colossians that they have died as well. Well, they hadn’t died physically, or they wouldn’t be reading his letter. Paul is talking about sharing Jesus’ death on the cross, that when Jesus died and took all of our sins away, we died, too. Our old way of life died. The Colossians were struggling with whether to go back to certain old ways of thinking and living, and Paul says, “No!” Your life, as you knew it, is over. You died. Those old things that once controlled you—money, sex and power—they must no longer have control over you, Paul says, because you’ve died. And, as a side note, that also means we don’t have to really worry about what others think of us when we talk about our faith because we’ve died to all that. Our life, Paul says, is wrapped up in Jesus. If people mock your faith, they’re not mocking you, they’re mocking Jesus (cf. Wright, Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters, pg. 175). Your life is hidden in him.
What’s more, Paul says, you have also died to all the old legalisms, the human-made rules that are supposed to make you more holy when, in reality, they have nothing to do with real holiness. Paul tells the Colossians to not worry about the “do not handle, taste, touch” rules some were trying to strap them to. Our modern versions say women can only wear certain things or Christians can only read a certain version of the Bible or be seen in certain places and so on. Those things, Paul says, will perish (2:20-23). In fact, the image he uses is that all that will end up on the dung heap (cf. Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians and Thessalonians, pg. 145). The one who believes in Christ has died to all those things. We’re called not to live by mere rules and regulations, but to live in a way that we allow the evil desires in us to die and good desires to live (Barclay 146). We don’t belong to the old world anymore, that part of us must be allowed to die (Wright 175). So the first word of hope is “death.”
But that’s followed quickly by the next word of hope: resurrection. Paul has already described this in chapter 2 of his letter: “For you were buried with Christ when you were baptized. And with him you were raised to new life because you trusted the mighty power of God, who raised Christ from the dead” (2:12, NLT). Sometimes, I think, we forget that the same power which raised Jesus from the dead lives in us. We want to experience resurrection when we physically die, but the reality is that God begins working in us, filling us with his power, from the moment we trust Jesus for salvation. The same resurrection power lives in you. Again, we come back to that image of fear when we talk about sharing our faith. If the resurrection power lives in us, that means there is nothing the world can do to us that will ultimately destroy us. If even death has been overcome, what do we have left to fear? That’s why the second word of hope is “resurrection.”
Are you getting a picture of our story yet? It’s a story of allowing the old, rotten things in us to die and letting God bring about a new person. So that leads to the third word of hope: ascension. Paul begins chapter 3 this way: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God” (3:1). After forty days of appearances to the disciples, Jesus ascended to heaven, to the right hand of God. There are a couple of things for us in that statement. One, Jesus gives us a different focus, a higher focus. The things of this world are not as important as we think they are. There is a better life, a higher life, we’re called to live. So Paul calls the Colossians to look beyond the things that were causing them problems. Look to Jesus, look up. Now Paul is not saying that just looking up is going to solve everything. But when we include Jesus in the struggles of our life, we gain a different perspective. And that leads us to the second observation of this verse: Jesus is seated. In ancient imagery, that meant his work was done. You sat down when your work was complete. Jesus has done everything he needed to do in defeating death, sin and the grave. And because he has finished it, we can have hope. We can serve others with generosity and grace. We can forgive. We can extend hospitality. All because he’s finished the work and given us a new vision, a new hope, a new purpose. So the third word of hope is “ascension.”
And then there’s one more word: return. Paul says, “When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory” (3:4). He’s reminding the Colossians that Jesus has one more move in the story; this one hasn’t happened yet. But Jesus promised to return, to restore creation, to make all things new. And when he does, he will gather those who belong to him and we will share his glory, his home, all his goodness. Jesus promises the ultimate healing and the ultimate justice when he returns. Even though we don’t know when that will happen, it is the deepest hope of the Christian story. In the Revelation, you might remember, John saw it this way: “He [God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (21:3-4). And that, my friends, is a reason to be people of hope.
Death, resurrection, ascension, return—this is our story of hope. This is our story. And while we often get hung up on smaller details or larger controversies within the Bible, ultimately all of those things boil down to four words, four simple words of hope: death, resurrection, ascension, return. It’s a four-part harmony we can remember. And once we know our story, it’s up to us to share it. Paul says, in another letter, that we are actually sharing our faith in one way or another. He describes us as an “aroma” of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:15). You know what that’s like. Maybe you come home and instantly you can smell what’s cooking, or if it’s particularly strong, you can smell what cooked a couple of days ago. Or you go into a coffee shop and as soon as you walk in, you’re taken in by the aroma. There’s no doubt where you are. An aroma sends a message—sometimes pleasing and sometimes not so much. You are an aroma of Christ. Are you a pleasing, hopeful aroma or do you just stink up the place? Do others “smell” hope in you or do they walk away with their noses covered determined never to be part of that group? If we’re going to turn the culture around, if we’re going to be able to help others see hope in the church, we’ve got a lot of work to do to become a hopeful community rather than a community that turns people away. We must be, as Peter told us, ready to share the hope that lives within us.
Now, as Pastor Deb told you last week, you’re going to get an assignment every week—a soul training assignment—and if you haven’t guessed it yet, this week’s assignment is to begin working toward sharing your faith without embarrassment or coercion. We’re following Peter’s guidelines, to give a reason for the hope that’s within us, but to do it with gentleness and respect. I think those elements are what have been missing, part of what has caused our “image problem” in the wider world. We’ve failed to show gentleness and respect. On the rare occasion that we do share our faith, often we rush in without doing the “prep work” that needs to come first. The very first thing to do is to pray. Pray that God will send us someone we can share our faith with, and pray that we would have eyes and ears to know it when they come. It might be someone you already know, someone you work with, someone who lives near you, the parent of a child who is on a team with your kids. Pray that God would send you someone, then watch. Ask God, “Help me see who you are bringing me.” This takes patience and perseverance. My wife, Cathy, spends a lot of time at McDonald’s, as some of you know, and she doesn’t just hide in the corner. She gets to know those who work there and asks God for ways to insert faith into their lives. It’s her McMinistry. So pray, and watch, and then reach out.
Now, by “reach out,” I don’t mean “beat them over the head with a Bible.” We reach out in nonthreatening ways, like inviting someone to have coffee with us, with no agenda other than to get to know each other. Or maybe you know a need they have. Maybe they’ve had a new baby in their family and need a meal dropped off. Or maybe they just need someone to talk to. Look for ways—practical, nonthreatening ways—to reach out, to make a difference in their lives. And then listen. “Simply by listening you are demonstrating love.” We rarely listen in our culture. We hurry here and there and, in clues both verbal and nonverbal, we let people know we really don’t care about their lives, and so we don’t listen. But is that the example of Jesus? Jesus always took the time to listen. He was never in a hurry. And he listened beyond the surface meanings of a person’s conversation. He listened to their hearts. As you listen to the other person, what is it that concerns them? What is on their heart? Pray, watch, reach out, listen, and then connect.
This is where it becomes important to know our story, because as we come to know the other person, we find ways to connect the gospel hope with their lives, with their story. Suppose the person you’re talking with is struggling in the aftermath of a divorce. The Gospel story, the Gospel hope is that Jesus brings life out of death, and in the midst of a divorce, it can be as painful if not more painful than a death. So how do you connect that story with their story? Of course, you have to be sensitive to the right time, but you can ask a question—questions are always better than statements—like, “What gives you hope right now? What keeps you going?” And again, you’re not using “religious language,” because hope is something we all need, we all want. But behind that question is your conviction that the only lasting hope comes from Jesus. And so, without preaching, you make connections between that person and the Gospel story.
And after you connect, you share. Now, I’m not talking about sharing a sermon or an outline of the Bible’s story. The very best witness is always your own story, because while someone may want to argue with you on the finer points of Biblical theology, they cannot argue with your story. Peter did not say, “You have to go to seminary and earn a degree in systematic theology before you can share the good news.” No, Peter only says, “Be ready to share the reason for your hope.” Death, resurrection, ascension, return. How has that story made a difference in your life? Several years ago, in the midst of finals in college, there was a person I had connected with and had prayed for, and one day over lunch she asked me, “How do you stay so peaceful with all the stress of finals week?” And I’ve thought back on that day many times since then, because I wasn’t ready to give a reason for the hope I have. I mumbled something, I can’t even tell you what, but how often I have wished I could go back and say, “Any peace you see in me comes from my faith in Jesus. It’s not something I can conjure up on my own.” The reason for our hope doesn’t have to be a long, eloquent statement. In fact, it’s better if it’s not. It’s better if we allow the other person to keep asking questions. Tell your story, simply and directly, because no one can argue with it. Share where your hope comes from, but do it with gentleness and respect.
And that leads us to the final piece of all this, which is to invite. If we do all the other things and never invite that person into a friendship with Jesus, we’ve left them hanging. It’s like watching a movie and walking out when there are ten minutes to go. You never find out how it all came out. Now, I’m not taking about, “If you died tonight, where would you spend eternity?” For some people, that works, but for most people today, it’s a matter of being loved into God’s kingdom, of being invited to come to church or to a small group or to Alpha. Bishop Robert Schnase says invitation is “an active love that steps toward people” (Five Practices of Fruitful Living, pg. 147). It takes patience, because today, the average time between when a person shows interest in the Christian faith and when they actually make a commitment to Jesus is 28 months. Patience pays off in seeing a person come to Jesus. So pray, watch, reach out, listen, connect, share and invite (Smith 59-63).
Now, things don’t always happen the way we think they should. Traditionally, we’ve thought of the path to faith as a baseball diamond. You start by seeking, then you accept Jesus and become part of a church, then you get involved in growing your faith (Bible studies and such), and then you’re sent out in mission and the process starts over. But increasingly today, we’re learning that the path to faith, particularly among young people, isn’t quite that clean. More often, it’s sort of the reverse of what we’ve been doing. People today are attracted by mission, by doing things that relieve the suffering of the world, then as they get to know people in the church, they might join a small group (entire churches have started out of small group ministries), and then, perhaps, out of their study, they come to know Jesus and join the church and then they invite others to get involved in mission. It’s a reverse baseball diamond. Bishop Schnase describes the church this way: “The church fulfills its mission at the margins of the congregation…In a healthy church, the boundary is wonderfully permeable, and members readily reach across the edge and new people easily enter the community. The margin is where the action is” (Schnase 152). Paul put it this way, just a little later in Colossians: “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (4:5-6). So how do we do with that? How effective are we at reaching those in need and giving them a true picture of Jesus and of the Christian faith?
Almost a year ago, we began PF Hope, which was an intentional effort to reach the margins, to reach people who were either unchurched or dechurched. We wanted to reach people who, for whatever reason, had distanced themselves from the church. Maybe they’d had a bad experience, maybe they weren’t sure what they believed, maybe they didn’t want to come to a church building—the reason, to us, really didn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that Jesus loves them and we want to reach them in a way they appreciate, enjoy and understand. And so we’ve been at it for about a year, and lives have been changed. It hasn’t been a huge crowd yet, but there are many attending who weren’t going anywhere before, and so PF Hope is meeting its goal, reaching its intended audience. But for PF Hope to move forward, we’ve got to do better at getting behind it and supporting it. The most immediate need is for people who will help set up on Saturdays. It will probably take less than an hour of your time each week, but it will make a world of difference as we, as a church (remember, this is our mission), seek to share the hope of the Gospel. I have a friend who is an ordained deacon in our Conference, a retired seminary professor with (at last count) 5 college and seminary degrees. Ken is highly educated and has many skills. So I asked him what he’s doing at his current church. “My job,” he says, “is to set up the chairs. That’s what I do.” Now, as we talked further, I learned that’s not really what he does. Setting up the chairs is his way of being able to have conversations with people, conversations that lead, week after week, to talking about faith. Whose life might you impact for the sake of the Gospel because you agree to set up chairs, or microphones or whatever is needed at PF Hope? You might change a life by a simple act of kindness that won’t cost you that much at all. We are a hopeful community, called to share that hope with everyone. As we learn our story, as we are shaped by it and internalize it, our community can’t help but be changed for the sake of the Gospel.
In the early years of Coca-Cola, the company wanted to make sure that they had a distinctive bottle, one that would stand out from other soft drinks. Shape, color, label and logo were all important, and the designers were given this instruction: “Even if the bottle shatters into a million pieces, we want each piece to be identifiable and recognizable as being from a Coke bottle.” Out of that directive came the light green Coke bottle, and in the days of glass bottles, if you saw broken green glass on the pavement, you knew it was from a Coke bottle (Schnase 156). Here’s the question: as the church scatters throughout the world, throughout our community, do people recognize you as being part of a hopeful community? Are you as distinctive as a Coke bottle? Do people see Jesus in you, even if you don’t have a church t-shirt or nametag on? The church is a hopeful community, called to share a clear witness to the Gospel in everything we say and do. Is Jesus evident in you each and every day in good and beautiful ways? Let’s pray.

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