The Right Stuff

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Psalm 1; Luke 6:43-45

June 7, 2015 • Portage First UMC

If you have turned on the television news, opened a newspaper or spent any time at all on social media this week, you have been aware of a cover story published in the magazine Vanity Fair this week that introduced the world to the new identity of the former Olympian, Bruce Jenner. For the first time, the world got a glimpse—or more than a glimpse—into the life of the newly chosen identity of Caitlyn Jenner. One of the interesting things is that throughout the article, Bruce and Caitlyn are treated as if they are two different people. For one thing, Bruce’s son, Burt, is quoted in the article as saying, “I have high hopes that Caitlyn is a better person than Bruce.” The article also goes on to say that Jenner openly acknowledges mistakes made with his children as Bruce, “and expresses genuine regret.” Now, whatever you think about this particular story and Bruce Jenner’s “journey,” there is at least one thing I hope we can agree upon, and that is this: changing the outside of a person or of anything doesn’t change the inside. You can change your face, you can change your clothes, you can change the way you do your hair, or you can change your whole body and that doesn’t change the person you are. Outward modification does not automatically produce inward change. Or, as an old saying goes, “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.” So if changing the outside doesn’t change the inside, what does? Where does real change come from? What pushes us toward genuine change?

As we enter these last few weeks that we have together, I want to share with you some “last words.” I’ve been thinking about the way I want to summarize the ministry we have shared together over these past ten years, and my hope is that these next three sermons will not only do that but also point you in a hope-filled and kingdom-focused direction. And it all has to do with inward change, with becoming the people God wants us to be.   The call of the Gospel is always about transformation (cf. deSilva, Transformation). So the image I want to work with, for these next couple of weeks, comes from the book of Psalms, specifically the very first psalm, which we read just a bit ago. This book, as you may remember, is the worship book of ancient Israel. This is the hymnal for the people of God, and when you read these ancient songs with that sort of mindset, it’s sort of surprising to find the kinds of topics the psalms cover. There are many psalms that are laments, complaints to God about how life is going. There are other psalms that ask for revenge on the people’s enemies. There is even a psalm that rejoices at the thought of dashing the heads of the enemy’s infants against a rock. Now, how well do you think a song like that would go over in today’s worship services? Can you imagine a choir or a praise team leading a song like that? Can you imagine it playing on Christian radio? But there it is, right in the middle of these songs of praise. And then, over and over, the psalms celebrate the people’s relationship with God, expressed primarily through their devotion to the Torah, or the Law. And it’s because of that focus that this psalm, Psalm 1, was put at the very beginning. Some scholars think it may have originally been an unnumbered prelude or an introduction to the whole book, and it certainly sets the right tone for this book of worship songs.

This little six-verse psalm contrasts two ways of life: the blessed and the wicked. In fact, it describes the blessed mostly by contrasting that person with the wicked; in other words, the blessed is characterized by not doing wicked things. The image is there in verse 1: “Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers” (1:1). So if the blessed person doesn’t do all that, what does he or she do? The psalmist says that person “delights” in the law of the Lord, in the instructions God has given to his people. That sort of person is like a tree, the psalmist says, planted by streams of water. Now, most of Israel is dry. There are not “streams of water” just running everywhere; in fact, one of the ongoing issues between Israel and Palestine is over water rights. The Jordan River is the main source of fresh water in today’s Israel, as it would have been in ancient Israel. The only time the streams are plentiful is during the rainy season, and if the rains don’t come at the right time, the country is in a difficult position. When I was there in late summer of 2000, we passed field after field of crops that were just burnt up. The rains hadn’t come and the economy was suffering. So these “streams of water” the psalmist refers to are actually irrigation ditches, dug with the singular purpose of growing crops, and the tree has been intentionally planted in that place by a master gardener. It is tended and the water is kept flowing so that the tree can grow. There’s a choice to plant, and a choice to keep the plant watered (cf. VanGemeren, “Psalms,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 5, pg. 56; Wilson, NIV Application Commentary: Psalms Volume 1, pg. 97). The blessed person is like that tree.

When we moved into the Mercedes parsonage ten years ago, there were basically three fairly young trees around the house, and several small bushes. Now, as you all ought to know by now, I am no master gardener; I don’t have the green thumb or the inclination to produce beautiful plants. But I do know enough to water, weed and prune. And those three trees have grown and grown and grown an incredible amount under our watch. But the smaller bushes have not done as well. In fact, we’ve lost several bushes over the last ten years and the ones that are still living are struggling. Both bushes and trees are growing in the same place, at the same address, in the same soil, under the same care. What makes the difference? Again, I’m no expert, but as I’ve watched them grow, I’ve realized that the difference is in the roots. The trees have roots that have gone deep and wide in search of water. We don’t have the best soil; it’s fairly sandy ground where we live. And the bushes simply have not put roots down deep enough to survive and thrive. The trees, though, have. The roots are what make the difference. I think that’s sort of the image the psalmist is getting at here. The roots are what matter. The tree—or the believer—who is blessed is the one who puts down deep roots into life-giving water. So the question I want to ask today out of this psalm is this: are you rooted deep?

This psalm points us in one direction for being rooted deep, and that is “meditating on [God’s] law day and night” (1:2). When we think of “meditation,” we might think of images of Eastern meditation, with our hands out and a monosyllable like “ohm” being repeated over and over again. In fact, the whole point of Eastern meditation is to empty yourself, to clear out your mind and heart and life (cf. Williams, Communicator’s Commentary: Psalm 1-72, pg. 27). It is content-less. Or we might think of meditating on a certain idea or a Biblical verse, repeating it over and over in our head, and that’s closer to what the Bible means by meditation. Biblical meditation is content-full; it’s meant to help redirect our thoughts, not clear out our head. The word used here by the psalmist refers to murmuring in a low voice, reading Scripture out loud in an undertone of sorts. It’s not something that happens just in our heads; God’s word takes up residence on our lips (cf. Wilson 96; Goldingay, Psalms Part 1, pg. 8). It’s the sort of prayer you see still today at the Western Wall or the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. Maybe you’ve seen pictures or video of these Orthodox Jews who come to the Wall to read and pray and study, and they’re usually rocking back and forth and repeating Scripture to themselves in low, quiet voices. I don’t know if the rocking helps keep them focused, but I do know how intent those men and women are in their prayers. Not even tourists are enough to distract them. That’s the image the psalmist has of meditating: allowing God’s Word to be on your lips, repeating it not just in your head, but in a low voice that you can hear. It’s a way of praying the Scriptures.

And more than that, it’s allowing Scripture to shape our lives. The psalmist says such actions happen “day and night.” All the time. Twenty-four hours a day. Some folks have taken that instruction literally. The Essenes, for example, who lived out by the Dead Sea in the time of Jesus and preserved what we call the Dead Sea Scrolls, believed that someone should be studying the Torah, the law, every moment of every day. Part of their community rule was that someone had to be studying and/or interpreting Scripture every moment. Can you imagine having the 3 a.m. shift? But what the psalmist really means is that Scripture ought to be such a part of us that it is transforming our lives, day and night, even when we’re not aware of it. All the time, Scripture (God’s instructions to us) should be part of us, inside and out, morning, noon, evening and night (Wilson 97).

The Bible has always been very important to me. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t a shaping influence in my life. My family encouraged reading of the Bible, and I still remember the first Bible that was really mine. It was a Children’s Living Bible with a picture of Jesus holding a lamb on the cover. And then, in third grade, we were given a copy of “The Way,” which was the Living Bible, probably the most popular Bible in 1975. The cover says it cost $6.95; you can’t buy a Bible for that anymore! I loaned that one to someone when I was in college and he never gave it back; I hope he read it. Every morning, I read my Bible and try to allow those words to soak into my life throughout the day. Some days I’m better at that than others! And personally, I do the best when I have a structure for my study, like when Disciple Bible Study is going on. That’s one reason I still lead Disciple after twenty years—I need it. When I arrived here ten years ago, I shared with you a goal I had, to see every person in this church in some sort of small group, in a place where you could fellowship with each other and learn from the Scriptures. Despite our best efforts, though, that goal remains unmet. What will it take for us all to realize how much we need to be rooted in the Scriptures, how much our lives need to be fed from the living water that is found between these pages? Marinating (to slightly change metaphors) in the Word of God is what allows us to be the person God wants us to be.

We live in an unprecedented era where the Scripture is so readily available. Today there are so many different translations and study Bibles with notes and commentaries and podcasts from preachers and ministry leaders that to claim Biblical ignorance you really have to put blinders on. Technology has been a huge help; I can read my Bible anywhere I am on my phone or my iPad because LifeChurch, based in Oklahoma, believes so strongly in making the Bible available to everyone that they launched a comprehensive app for phones and tablets called “YouVersion,” in which you can get almost every Bible translation for free. In addition, there are numerous opportunities for Bible study here in our church and in our community. What keeps you from getting rooted in the Scriptures? God has planted you by a stream of living water; are you rooting down into that life-giving stream?

In addition to the practice of Bible study, John Wesley, the founder of our tradition, talked about several other “means of grace,” practices or disciplines we can engage in to be rooted in Christ. These other practices are not in place of Scripture study; that is still the basic starting point. These practices include and are in addition to study of the Bible. Wesley talked about things like prayer, public worship, fasting and abstinence, and preaching as means of grace. Many of those we talked about last week, because they make up our membership vows of prayers, presence, gifts, service and witness. Others through the centuries have added other practices to Wesley’s list, things like serving in mission and ministry with others, walking in silence through the woods, Christian conferencing or small group gatherings, or writing in a journal. “The key is paying attention, listening to God’s Spirit with the ears and the heart” (Hamilton, Revival, pg. 85). My own practice is something like this. In the morning, when I first wake up, I spend a few moments in prayer, these days usually asking God something along the lines of, “What can we do together today, God?” I give God thanks for my family and pray for this church. Then, after I get up, I spend time reading the Scriptures and some devotional books. Often, then, I will spend a few more moments in prayer. I’m not good at praying for long periods of time, but I’ve managed to overcome most of the guilt I have from folks who believe that’s the only way to pray and instead pray several times throughout the day. Then, sometimes in the late afternoon or evening, I’ll read some from a good, solid Christian book that will nourish my soul. Those practices, in addition to weekly worship and my covenant group, keep me rooted and nourished in the living water that Jesus gives (cf. John 4:14). What disciplines or practices keep you rooted?

When a tree is rooted by streams of water, the psalmist reminds us (though we really already know this), fruit emerges. The tree is able to be and do what it was created to be and do. But, of course, the psalmist isn’t really talking about trees. He’s talking about you and me. When we are rooted, drinking deeply from the living water, we will produce fruit. Jesus says we will produce “good fruit.” “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart” (Luke 6:45). Paul uses that same image in talking about the evidence of the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives; he talks about “fruit of the Spirit,” the good fruit we were created to bear. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control—against such things, Paul says, there is no law. In other words, you won’t be arrested for producing those things! You won’t be breaking God’s commandment if you’re producing that fruit! If we put the right stuff into our lives—living water—then we’ll get the right stuff out. Living water in, fruit of the Spirit out. Do you want to be all God intends for you to be? Then you have to be rooted. To produce fruit, you have to connect to the living water.

I’ve been your pastor now for ten years. We’ve done many things together over this last decade, but my prayer for you is still the same. I pray that you would be ever more rooted in Christ. In fact, my prayer for you is much the same as what Paul prayed for the Ephesians, and since he says it better than I can, let me share his words: “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:17-19). Filled to the brim, to the full measure. That you receive as much of God as you can, and that you become all that God intends for you to be. And the answer to that prayer begins when each one of us chooses to be rooted by streams of living water.

There is one discipline from Wesley’s list that I haven’t mentioned yet, and you may think it’s a glaring error since, in a few minutes, we’re going to be sharing in it. But I saved it for now just because of that. That practice is holy communion, also known as the Lord’s Supper or the Eucharist. Whatever you call it, it’s the practice of once again remembering Jesus’ death on the cross with these two tokens that he gave his disciples. Bread, representing his body. Grape juice, representing his blood. This discipline, this practice connects us to Jesus in ways we can’t begin to imagine, and it is something he told us to do to “remember” him, to stay connected to him. We call it a “sacrament,” which is a fancy way of saying it’s something we do physically, outwardly, that represents something that is happening inside of us. We take the bread and the cup, we remember, and we are being rooted in Jesus. I am so thankful that, in our tradition, all ages are welcome at the table. I remember growing up at the Rossville United Methodist Church and knowing that, at communion time, I was welcome to come forward along with the adults and receive those two tokens. And I’ve had some folks say to me, “Well, shouldn’t you wait until they understand it?” My usual response is this: “If we wait until we understand it, we’d never take communion!” There is mystery here. How is it that bread and juice, purchased down the road at Town & Country, becomes something that connects us to Jesus? We don’t believe the bread or juice are changed in any way, but there is something significant when we come together and receive these two tokens. In some way, we too are at the table with Jesus, realizing that it could be us who betrays him, it could be us who goes to Calvary with him, that it is for us that he went to the cross. In this bread and in this cup, Jesus meets us here. He roots us more deeply. I don’t know how; I just know that he does. Every time I come to the table, I am grateful. I am changed. This bread and this juice are “the right stuff;” they’re what I need. And so as we come this morning, I pray you find that connection, that rootedness, in this simple act of sharing bread and cup. May Jesus meet you here in a profound and deep way.

So that we are ready to meet him, let’s prepare our hearts this morning by going to him in prayer.