--Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:27) I thought I’d share with you some excerpts from a 2006 article in Time magazine entitled “How Americans are Living Dangerously.” It contrasts our ability to worry about the things that really matter and our obsession with possible disasters that are, mathematically speaking, unlikely: Shadowed by peril as we are, you would think we'd get pretty good at distinguishing the risks likeliest to do us in from the ones that are statistical long shots. But you would be wrong. We agonize over avian flu…but have to be cajoled into getting vaccinated for the common flu, which contributes to the deaths of 36,000 Americans each year. We wring our hands over the mad cow pathogen that might be (but almost certainly isn't) in our hamburger and worry far less about the cholesterol that contributes to the heart disease that kills 700,000 of us annually. We pride ourselves on being the only species that understands the concept of risk, yet we have a confounding habit of worrying about mere possibilities while ignoring probabilities, building barricades against perceived dangers while leaving ourselves exposed to real ones… … We put filters on faucets, install air ionizers in our homes, and lather ourselves with antibacterial soap. At the same time, 20 percent of all adults still smoke; nearly 20 percent of drivers and more than 30 percent of backseat passengers don't use seatbelts; and two-thirds of us are overweight or obese. Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? Most of the things we worry about aren’t going to come true. It’s like we’re worrying for the sake of worrying. Why else would we worry about the things that are unlikely and ignore the things we can control? Either way, Jesus’ response to worry is the same. In the end it doesn’t help all that much. The act of worry itself doesn’t accomplish anything. Instead, he encourages us to walk in faith, trusting the God who cares for the flowers and the birds and us, his children. So what have you been worrying about this morning? And what would you like to do instead of worry about it? Robert Lee

When You Fast… In a recent article for Leadership Journal, John Ortberg relays the story of the “Three Christs of Ypsilanti” from the book by Psychiatrist Milton Rokeach. Each man was suffering from delusions of grandeur. Each one believed himself to be the Messiah, the savior of mankind. Given how deeply these delusions were entrenched, Rokeach had very little success in breaking through them. But his efforts didn’t go completely unrewarded. Rokeach realized minimal progress when he got the three men together. His hope was that each one, when confronted with the reality of a competing messiah, would be forced to reexamine his own identity. This led to some interesting conversations. One would claim, "I'm the messiah, the Son of God. I was sent here to save the earth." "How do you know?" Rokeach would ask in response. “God told me.” But then one of the other patients would counter, "I never told you any such thing." Even this particular strategy met with very limited success. But it did help. A competing claim to the identity of Christ at least game each man reason to pause and rethink things. It could be said that you and I suffer from the same affliction as the three Christs of Ypsilanti. It’s just a matter of degree. We are also capable of deluding ourselves into thinking that we should be in charge, that our wants and desires reign supreme, that we are the authors of this story. We all make some veiled claim of messiahship. And like the three men in the study, we are freed from any such false claim when confronted by the real thing. We can’t come into contact with God and continue to think that we ourselves are the ones in charge. God (mostly gently, sometimes not) relieves us of our blindness. And this is a good thing. It’s good to see things in a more accurate lightly. It’s good to let go of our own illusions of control. Then we are free to lean on the Everlasting Arms. I say all of that to say this: The passage that we’re going to look at on Sunday talks about fasting and the purpose of fasting. And that purpose is to bring us into contact with the Living God, so he can heal our blindness. I hope you’ll feel led to do some fasting of your own. Not so that you can be seen and appreciated by the rest of us, but in order to be seen and to see God. Robert Lee

I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. (1 Timothy 2:1-2) Perhaps you were never familiar with Emma Daniel Gray, but I know God is. (Okay—I know God is familiar with everyone, but work with me.) Judging by a recent Washington Post profile of her following her death last year at the age of 95, she and God spoke quite often. Raised in South Carolina by her grandfather, a former slave, Gray and her husband moved to D.C. in the 40’s seeking employment. She found a job cleaning various government buildings. Her work ethic eventually led her to the White House in 1955. She worked there until her retirement in 1979. Every night Mrs. Gray cleaned the oval office, and according to the Post, “(w)hen she came to the president's chair, she would pause, cleaning materials in hand, and say a quick prayer.” I love that image. Every night she prayed for one of the world’s most powerful people. Now, given the six presidents that she prayed for, there is no possible way that she liked the politics of every single one of them. We’re told that she personally liked Presidents Carter and Kennedy. Does that mean she didn’t like Nixon? The article doesn’t say. What we do know is that she prayed for all six of the Presidents who were in office during her tenure, regardless of their policies or party affiliation. There’s a lesson to be learned here. Scripture is clear in its desire that we pray for our leaders no matter who they are. It doesn’t mean we have to approve of their policies. We are not asked to betray our faith. We are simply told by the Bible to pray for all of those in authority. Given the bitterness that I see on the current political scene, I wonder how many Christians have been able to follow Mrs. Gray’s example consistently over the last decade. There’s another way we can follow her lead. This Sunday we’re going to be looking at Jesus’ take on prayer from the Sermon on the Mount. Not to ruin the surprise, but he basically says, “Keep it simple.” There’s no need for flashiness. There’s no need for a lot of words. And it’s just between you and God, so don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m inspired by the image of this woman, unknown by so many, who offered a simple prayer every night for the President. You know, whatever power was present in that office during the day can’t even come close to the power that was at work in the night. Robert Lee

In their book Being the Body Chuck Colson and Ellen Vaughn recount a startling confession made by Max Cadenhead to his church, The First Baptist Church of Naples, Florida: My message today is on the parable of the Good Samaritan," Max announced. "Let me start with an illustration. "Remember last year when the Browns came forward to join the church?" he asked. Everyone nodded; the Browns were a very influential family. "Well, the same day a young man came forward and gave his life to Christ. I could tell he needed help—and we counseled him." No one nodded; no one remembered. "We worked with the Browns, got them onto committees. They've been wonderful folks," Cadenhead said to muffled amens. "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." Chins dropped throughout the congregation, mine included, as the pastor continued. "I never followed up on that young man, so I'm the priest who saw the man in trouble and crossed to the other side of the road. I am a hypocrite." I’m not sharing this with you in order to point a finger at anyone but myself. How often have I had to choose, as a preacher, which people were “worthy” of my attention? And how often have I made that choice based on a simple cost-benefit analysis: Who is more influential? In the end, which of these people will require more work on my part? Who is it easier to talk to? Which person will boost my ego? Perhaps you have noticed the glaring omission in my decision process. The question I too frequently fail to ask is, “What does God want me to do here?” In our Bible passage this morning we’re going to be reminded that this is the first question Jesus wants us to consider. Our “acts of righteousness” must begin with an awareness that God alone will determine their value. That’s easier said than done. I have failed at this more frequently than I care to admit. If I’ve done this to you, I’m sorry. I pray this morning that I can become more concerned with God’s view of me and less concerned with others’ view of me. Robert Lee

“You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” –Jesus, Matthew 5:43-45 Say you’ve got a little time to kill and you want to create your own little civilization and then rule over its inhabitants as their deity. Well it just so happens that there’s an app for that. One of the most popular applications for the iPhone is a game called “Pocket God.” Here’s a description of the game as given by the app store: “What kind of god would you be? Benevolent or vengeful? Play Pocket God and discover the answer within yourself. On a remote island, you are the all-powerful god that rules over the primitive islanders. You can bring new life, and then take it away just as quickly.” In my neverending pursuit of journalistic integrity I decided to purchase this app for myself…errr, I mean for you. You know…just so I can tell you what it’s like. After playing it for ten minutes, I have figured out how to strike the islanders with lightning, set them on fire, flick them into the sea, dangle them over a shark until it eats them, and deprive them of bathroom privileges until they pop. (To the game-makers’ credit, this is all portrayed in a very “Tom & Jerry like” manner.) I also discovered how to give them fire, help them catch a fish, and roast a seagull for them. But I must point out that there are many more opportunities to wreak havoc than to create prosperity. I guess we understand why. It’s more fun, isn’t it? I think most people, if given absolute power over an imaginary group will prefer to have a little bit of not so harmless fun with them. From a human point of view, wrath is easier to imagine (and enjoy) than mercy. That’s just one of the reasons that Jesus’ statement above is so revolutionary. People who follow Jesus’ command on this are turning things upside down. They’re really upsetting the apple cart. What we expect is revenge. What Jesus gives is forgiveness and love and prayers for our enemies. It also tells us something about our understanding of God as opposed to who God really is. Most people think of a wrathful, capricious god, ready to unleash a lightning bolt on some poor unsuspecting creature. What we see in Jesus is a God who forgives all—even those who subject him to the cruelest of tortures. How Blessed are we that are God is “slow to anger and abounding in love!” When our God picks us up, it is not to toss us into a volcano. It is in order to embrace us. Robert Lee

Good morning, Church! I had to get that in, since the family and I are on vacation and Mike Dossett has kindly offered to preach in my place. I look forward to logging on and listening to his sermon on the website. He’s going to be talking about Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well and the importance of “living water.” One of the best books that I’ve read recently is Thomas Merton’s autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain. Merton recounts a childhood spent traveling about Europe in the early 20th century and his American education at prestigious Columbia University. But it is mostly a story about his journey to faith. In 1941, on the cusp of an exceptional literary career, Merton entered a Trappist Monastery in Kentucky and embarked on a life of meditation and writing. He became one of the most renowned Christian writers of his era. I just wanted you to have some context before I shared one of his prayers with you. This is from his book, Thoughts in Solitude: My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. Let me tell you what I absolutely love about this prayer: its unflinching honesty. This prayer hasn’t the slightest bit of pretense. Merton has no need to act like he has all the answers or that he’s Super Christian. This is the modern day equivalent of the tax collector’s prayer in Luke 18: “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” One of the things that I can’t help but notice about Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well is how reluctant she is to be honest with everything that’s going on with her. Jesus on the other hand cuts straight to the truth. He’s not doing it to be cruel. He’s doing it so that he can cut through all of the deception and make a difference in this woman’s life. God can’t work with people who are unable to be honest. I still have a hard time being this honest with God. When I can be this transparent, devotion to God isn’t a difficulty, it’s a privilege. I hope you can find the courage to be honest with God this morning. The Living Water Jesus offers is found by those who realize and acknowledge just how thirsty they are. Robert Lee

In his book, The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis takes an imaginary tour of Heaven. Lewis forgoes the standard imagery—clouds, pearly gates, streets of gold, etc. As Lewis envisions it, Heaven is much like our own earth only more so. It is our world as it was always intended to be. There is still grass, flowers, water (and waterfalls), rocks, and animals—all the things that populate our world. The difference between our world and the heavenly realm is that everything is more real. It has more substance. The narrator tries to pick up a daisy and finds that it can’t be plucked. He describes it as “hard…like a diamond.” The water in heaven is so substantial that a normal human can walk on it without breaking through the surface. In fact everything is so real and so vibrant the narrator notices that he and his normal human companions appear to be almost transparent by comparison. They become ghost-like in appearance. But then he realizes that perhaps they had always been like that. Perhaps they had only appeared real all along and that heaven is the reality. He thinks the same thing when he sees Heaven’s inhabitants—people who have already entered into eternal life. Just like their surroundings these people are more real. The narrator refers to them as the “solid people.” The earth shakes beneath their feet. They have a glow about them that makes regular folks even more transparent. I like Lewis’ description of Heaven. It’s just the opposite of the way it is usually imagined. Think about the way you see Heaven portrayed on TV and in other art forms. Isn’t everything kind of smoky and ethereal? Like it wouldn’t hold up under our weight? Lewis’ depiction is much more Biblical. The Biblical picture says that our world is the one that is “passing away” or “perishing,” and that the Kingdom of Heaven is the one that is incorruptible and eternal. I wonder what it says about us that we so easily get that mixed up. This morning (Easter Sunday!) we’re going to be reading this amazing story about a couple of men who are very mixed up about what has really happened. They look at our world and see gloom and despair—a place abandoned by God. Jesus comes along with another point of view. Because of what has happened, Jesus knows that the “real” world is just getting started, and it’s one where God reigns victorious. My hope today is that you will be reminded of what is “real.” I hope you’ll see things as they truly are. Because it’s a wonderful thing to see. The life we are living now is merely a shadow of the things that are to come. God is in the process of bringing true life to his children. That’s what Easter means. I hope you’ll get a glimpse of the true life to which He’s calling us. Robert Lee

A recent issue of Leadership magazine features a cartoon in which the pastor of a church is standing at the back shaking hands with people following services.  The man who is currently shaking hands with him is saying, "Powerful sermons, Pastor. Thoughtful, well researched. I can always see myself in them and I want you to knock it off." I can’t help but wonder if a number of you have felt that way about my recent lessons.  I do know that some of you have felt challenged by them.  But instead of telling me to “knock it off,” you have told me that you appreciate the challenge. Personally, I go back and forth.  Some days I love preaching through the Sermon on the Mount.  It is the heart of Jesus’ teaching.  It is exciting and uncompromising.  Jesus is unrelenting in his call to us to live like citizens of God’s Kingdom.  But sometimes I feel like every sermon is another exercise in exploratory surgery—revealing but painful. Today’s is no exception.  Once again Jesus calls on his followers to run counter to human nature.  He asks us to act counter to that basic human desire—the desire for revenge against our enemies. Our desire for revenge goes all the way to our core.  It is a deeply imbedded aspect of the human psyche.  Just think about how many movies there are with revenge as the theme.  Just think about how angry people get if a movie ends without the bad guy getting his or her comeuppance.  Let’s face it.  It’s simply unnatural to do what Jesus is asking us to do this morning.  It is not natural to turn the other cheek or to pray for your enemies. And yet that is what Jesus tells us to do.  Not only that, though.  It’s also what he did.  This morning, we’ll see once again that, while he was calling us to a way of life, he himself was already living it.  Any success we have in loving our enemies will merely be a reflection of the Savior who loved his enemies enough to pray for them, even while they executed him. Exploratory surgery is not just painful.  It also brings about healing.  Maybe this morning you’ve been carrying something around.  Maybe you’re still nursing a wound (a very real, legitimate wound) that someone has inflicted on you.  Maybe this morning will be the day that you can begin turning it over to God.  Because a life that is “Built on the Rock” is no longer controlled by the things that people do to us.  It is a life that is free to move on in God’s grace.  In the words of Jesus, may we learn to forgive as we are forgiven. Robert Lee

This morning I thought I’d share this wonderful piece by Christian recording artist Carolyn Arends from the website kyria.com. It’s doubly fitting, because it reminds us that Easter is just around the corner and it reminds us of the power of God’s promises: A couple years ago, during a jubilant Easter service, our pastor said something that stopped me in my mental tracks: "The world offers promises full of emptiness. But Easter offers emptiness full of promise." Empty cross, empty tomb, empty grave-clothes … all full of promise. If I were writing the Easter story, I don't think I'd choose emptiness as my symbolic gesture. But then, I also wouldn't be talking about strength being made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9), foolish things confounding the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27), the meek inheriting the earth (Matthew 5:5), or the poor in spirit getting (in every sense of the word "get") the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 5:3). And I certainly wouldn't be talking about dying in order to live. What is it about God that makes him so favor this kind of paradox? I guess this is what we should expect from the Servant King—the God who decided that the best way to save the world was to let it kill him. I don't understand the way God thinks. But on those days when I feel hollowed out and broken—half-dead, even—it makes me glad to remember that for Easter people, even death is full of promise. The world makes a lot of promises. Smoke and mirrors, mostly. Frantic, cartoonish attempts to distract us from the gaping holes in the middle of our souls (or to sell us the latest product in order to fill them). There's no life in those promises. So I'm hoping that … I'll be a little more willing to die to that stuff. I'm praying I'll become more aware of the empty space within, and that I'll resist the urge to fill it with any old thing I can find. I'm going to wait, carved out, vulnerable, a cracked and crumbling jar of clay, on a life God's offered to deposit anywhere there's room. I'm going to believe that if I'll just leave my empty spaces empty, he'll fill them. That, I'm convinced, is a reasonable expectation. In our text for this morning Jesus throws down this gantlet: “Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'” (Matthew 5:37). In other words, there’s no need for elaborate oaths, just fidelity to our commitments. But before he calls us to this, God shows us what it looks like. We must keep our promises, because God always kept his promises to us. That’s the Good News behind the command. Robert Lee

In his book Seismic Shifts: The Little Changes That Make a Big Difference in Your Life Kevin Harney tells the following story: A little boy sat on the floor of the church nursery with a red rubber ball in each arm and three Nerf balls clenched on the floor between his pudgy little knees. He was trying to protect all five from the other children in the nursery. The problem was, he could not hold all five at once, and the ball nearest to his feet was particularly vulnerable to being stolen. So, whenever another child showed an interest in playing with one of the balls, he snarled to make it clear these toys were not for sharing. I suppose I should have stepped in and made the little guy give up one or two of the balls, but I was too wrapped up in the drama of it all. For about five minutes, this little guy growled, postured, and kept the other children away from the balls. Like a hyena hunched over the last scraps of a carcass, this snarling little canine was not in the mood for sharing. The other kids circled like vultures around the kill, looking for a way to jump in and snatch a ball without being attacked and bitten. I honestly did not know whether to laugh or cry as I watched. Then it struck me: This little boy was not having any fun at all. There was no cheer within ten yards of this kid. Not only was he unhappy, but all the other kids seemed sad as well. His selfishness created a black hole that sucked all of the joy out of that nursery…. When church was over and his parents came to pick him up, he left the balls behind. I guess the old saying is true, you can't take it with you. Blessed are those who outgrow their possessiveness, for they are able to relax. This morning is At My Gate Sunday—a day where we highlight the work that’s being done by our partners at the Use Offot Church of Christ in Nigeria. The funds we share with them have the opposite effect of the actions of the boy in the story. Because you are willing to sacrifice a little bit, a great deal of good work is being done. People are getting medical help, children are getting an education and young people are learning a trade. And the good news for you and me is, not only are we doing good, we’re finding another way to fulfill are mission this year. As we’ll see today, to share is to build your life on the rock. I hope you’ll share today. Robert Lee

“31"It has been said, 'Anyone who divorces his wife must give her a certificate of divorce.' 32But I tell you…” (Matthew 5) According to Douglas LaBier, a Psychotherapist with over 35 years experience, many people are suffering from an unknown and undiagnosed deficiency that is injuring their relationships and poisoning our world’s attempts to find peace. He calls the condition EDD. He goes on to say… “People who suffer from EDD are unable to step outside themselves and tune in to what other people experience. That makes it a source of personal conflicts, of communication failure in intimate relationships, and of the adversarial attitudes -- even hatred -- among groups of people who differ in their beliefs, traditions or ways of life.” What does EDD stand for? It’s short for “Empathy Deficit Disorder.” LaBier defines empathy as “what you feel when you enter the internal world of another person. Without abandoning your own perspective, you experience the other's emotions, conflicts or aspirations.” The key to empathy is a willingness to try seeing and feeling things from another person’s point of view. To, as the old saying goes, walk a mile in their shoes. It requires that we attempt to see more than our own perspective. LaBier regularly sees clients who are unable to do this. As an example he points to the man who is unable to appreciate his wife’s need for him to spend time with his children because he “need(s) time for (his) sports activities on the weekends.” Or the woman who says of American Muslims: “I think they're all terrorists, and would like to kill us all, anyway.” In each of these cases, a person is unwilling to step away from his or her point of view and imagine what life must be like for someone else. LaBier acknowledges that this is not a diagnosable illness. But he does want to draw our attention to what he sees as a common occurrence. Today we’re going to be talking about a subject that is not suitable for anyone who might be suffering from EDD. It’s tempting to talk about things in the abstract and the theoretical, forgetting to ask ourselves, “How does this affect the lives of real people?” I want us to avoid that temptation today. I want us to be honest but not uncaring, truthful but not ruthless. Jesus demonstrated this ability with the people he encountered. He never seemed to forget that he was dealing with a real person and not just a set of ideas to be agreed with or argued against. Paul challenges us to “speak the truth” but he also reminds us to do so “in love.” That’s not always an easy tension to maintain. I hope we can do that this morning. — Robert Lee

Rob Bell begins his book Sex God by talking about the story of Jacob and Esau. Jacob, the younger and cleverer twin, cheats his hirsute and impulsive older brother out of a birthright and their father’s blessing. It’s too long a story to tell here, but it’s a great one if you haven’t read it (Genesis 25-27). Then when Esau realizes he’s been duped, he vows to use his considerable brawn to end the life of his conniving brother. So Jacob has to run away from home. At one point on his journey, Jacob stops for the night, and he has a dream in which there is a staircase that reaches up to the heavens. He sees that angels—messengers of God—are ascending and descending it. The idea of the dream is that God’s world and our world are connected—that God is at work in spite of Jacob’s less than exemplary behavior. When Jacob wakes up, he says to himself, “Surely the LORD is in this place and I didn’t know it.” So he calls the place “Beth El” (house of God) and builds an altar out of rocks as a monument to God’s appearance. The idea is that the pile of rocks is not just a pile of rocks. It’s a sign, a symbol—something that points away from itself to something greater. Bell goes on to say that a lot of things in our lives are about more than just the thing that they appear to be on the surface and that it’s definitely true of our sexuality. He says: “You can’t talk about sexuality without talking about how we were made. And that will inevitably lead you to who made us. At some point you have to talk about God…Sex. God. They’re connected. And they can’t be separated.” In our passage for today, Jesus says the same thing. Adultery is about more than just adultery. Just like murder is about more than murder and making oaths is about more than making oaths. Jesus is interested in more than just the surface issue. He always wants to get to the heart of the matter. He always wants us to ask ourselves: “What’s going on in there? Robert Lee

23 "Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to that person; then come and offer your gift. (Matthew 5) What do you do if you’re a Chinese business man who hasn’t spoken to his father and former business partner for several years following a disagreement several years ago? And what do you do after a recent attempt at reconciliation that involved the bearing of gifts ended with you getting the door slammed in your face? It’s probably a good idea to call The Tianjin Apology and Gift Center. After all, their slogan is “We say sorry for you.” According to a recent NY Times article, that’s exactly what one Mr. Song did. By the admission of all the Chinese people interviewed for the article, apologies don’t come easily for their culture. As one Chinese sociologist said, “It's much easier for a Westerner to say “sorry” than compared with a Chinese -- I mean they're always saying ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry.’” But for the Chinese it is a thing rarely offered and just as rarely accepted. That’s why, for a fee of $2.50 per apology, you can have a professional do it for you. The founder of the company is a former lawyer whose interest in psychology led to his latest inspiration. The Apology and Gift center hires only well-educated men and women with “excellent verbal ability” to offer apologies on behalf of its clients. In addition, the apologizers are given training in counseling. It took “five difficult visits,” but Mr. Song was finally reconciled to his father. He was just one of nearly one hundred people who sought the services of the company in its first few months. Still, most acknowledge that, whenever possible, a personal apology is best. I think Jesus would agree that a personal apology is best. But I also think he would appreciate the lengths that people are willing to go in order to achieve reconciliation. One thing is clear from our text this morning. Jesus feels that a fractured relationship calls for urgent and immediate action. Let this be my first challenge to you. If you have a problem with a brother or sister, today is the day to make things right. I hope you’ll prayerfully think about what you can do this morning. We who are reconciled to God through Christ owe it to ourselves and to others to exercise the same mercy that we have been shown. Robert Lee

It is said that, after the Civil War had ended, someone asked Ulysses S. Grant to offer an evaluation of his fellow general, George B. McClellan. Grant replied, “McClellan is to me one of the mysteries of the war.” Most historians are baffled by McClellan. The grandson of a Revolutionary War general, and second in his class at West Point, he had the makings of a great leader. In the early years of his career, he demonstrated considerable organizational skills. He was selected to serve as an observer of the European armies in the Crimean War. He had extensive knowledge of troop organization, and was successful in civilian work for two different railroads. When the Civil War broke out, McClellan was highly sought after. He was eventually selected by President Lincoln to form the Army of the Potomac and to serve as its general-in-chief. But despite his skill in forming an army, McClellan was unable to achieve victory. On many infamous occasions, he failed to use the North’s considerable numeric advantage to bring a quick end to the South’s rebellion. He consistently overestimated the strength of his opponents, and thus was hesitant rather than decisive. It is widely held that McClellan’s failure to act resulted in a much longer conflict and considerably more deaths for both sides. Lincoln eventually removed McClellan of his command, but not before he famously exclaimed, “If General McClellan does not want to use the army, I would like to borrow it for a time.” As we continue to dwell on our theme for this year, we’ll find that the same thing is expected of us. We are called to take action. “Building on the Rock” is what happens when we hear the words of and put them in to practice. McClellan had the pedigree, the skill and the intelligence to be a great leader. But none of it was helpful, because he failed to put it all to use. We may have all the spiritual gifts in the world. They will not help us if we fail to act. This morning, I hope we can all take seriously God’s call to express our faith through action. Robert Lee

Author and Singer/Songwriter Jennifer Rothschild recently shared her story in an issue of Decision Magazine. When Rothschild was 12, her eyesight began to fail.  Throughout Junior High School, her situation worsened.  She was soon having difficulty performing standard tasks like opening her locker, catching a ball, or reading the chalkboard at school. The last straw came when she and her mother went to visit a friend who lived in an upstairs apartment.  Jennifer was stumbling up the stairs, while her mother didn’t have any trouble seeing them.  After a trip to a hospital that specialized in treating illnesses of the eye, Jennifer was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a progressive deterioration of the retina that would eventually result in total blindness. On the ride home, she dwelt on all that she was losing: “I'm not going to be able to drive a car. I'm not going to be able to be an artist…Are boys going to want to date me? How am I going to finish high school? Will I be able to go off to college?” When she arrived home, Jennifer went and sat at her old piano, hoping to preoccupy herself by plunking out a tune or two.  She was surprised to find that she could play one song by ear: “It is Well With My Soul.”  Rothschild goes on, “It was a miracle that on that very dark day, God gave me hope and light through the gift of playing by ear. But the greatest miracle wasn't that I played ‘It Is Well with My Soul;’ the greatest miracle was that, because I was a Christian, it really was well with my soul.” My sense is, if you were to ask Jennifer if she deserved to go blind, she would say no.  And she would be right.  She didn’t do anything to bring this on herself.  And yet she did lose her eyesight.  In spite of whatever innocence she had, she still suffered a debilitating illness.  What sets her apart is her ability to let God work through the tragedy. The first step in building on the Rock this year is recognizing why we are doing it.  We are trying to build on the Rock, because we want to survive when the storms come.  And Jesus is sure to tell his followers that the storms will come.  No matter who we are, we will have to ride out some storms in our life.  That’s a given.  What is unknown is what the condition of our faith will be when the storm makes landfall.  I hope this morning you will start preparing for the storms you will face. Robert Lee

God can't clean the house of you when you're still in it. --Anne Lamott The evidence for Jesus' resurrection is so strong that nobody would question it except for two things: First, it is a very unusual event. And second, if you believe it happened, you have to change the way you live. --Wolfhart Pannenberg Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. --Jesus Jesus doesn’t do moderation very well. The religious leaders of his day accused him of being a drunkard. That’s because he practiced such radical forgiveness, that he was willing to eat with the dregs of society. He didn’t just forgive the morally decent, he forgave the least (worst) of these. This Wednesday we talked about the bold prayer we get to make as a part of the Lord’s prayer: “Forgive us our debts as we forgive those who have sinned against us.” That’s a radical statement to make to Creator of the universe. We come to God and we simply ask him to forgive us. We boldly ask him to forgive us. And he does! Without condition, God forgives us. It is complete, eternal, deep-down forgiveness. Not because we have earned it, but because that is how Jesus works. Jesus also isn’t moderate in his expectations of us. He tells us stories about “counting the cost” before signing up to follow him. In exchange for his forgiveness, he simply wants everything that we have. He warns us that no one can serve two masters, and anyone who starts plowing a field and looks back might as well not begin in the first place. Here’s what C.S. Lewis says about it in Mere Christianity: Christ says, "Give me all. I don't want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want you. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I don't want to cut off a branch here and a branch there. I want to have the whole tree down. I don't want to drill the tooth, or crown it, or stop it, but to have it out. Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think are innocent as well as the ones you think are wicked—the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you myself: my own will shall become yours." Today, on Challenge Sunday, we’re going to ask you to do the same. We’re going to challenge you to give more of yourself this year than ever before. And we’ll do so unapologetically. We’re going to challenge you to get back to basics. To build your house on a foundation that will withstand rough times. God goes all out in forgiving us. He asks us to do the same in serving Him. Robert Lee

Growing up in Tennessee, my mom fixed black eyed peas and cabbage every New Year’s Day—a custom I though strange since we never ate black eyed peas otherwise, and because I loathed both of them. (I do love them now.) I understand that this isn’t particular to Tennessee, but is it an American tradition or just a Southern one? Maybe someone can fill me in. Here are some other New Year’s customs I found online. Take them with a grain of salt, since they came from the internet. I did verify each one on more than one website, but still… • In Spain it is customary to eat one grape for each chime of the clock at Midnight—a tradition that supposedly began when there was a surplus of grapes and the king gave them as New Year’s presents. It apparently also results in a lot of people laughing at each other with mouths full of grapes. • In Taiwan employees present their workers with a meal that includes a whole cooked chicken. Everyone gets gifts, but if the chicken’s head is facing you during the meal, it is a sign that you will likely lose your job in the next year. • In Ecuador and Colombia, families burn a stuffed male doll representing the old year. Each family makes their own doll for burning. They sometimes place fireworks inside it to add excitement. They also burn objects that represent the bad memories from the old year. • In Korea, it is customary to go to the beach and watch the sunrise on New Year’s Day. • In Brazil, people jump seven waves and throw flowers into the sea. • In Mexico, people wear red underwear as a symbol of their desire to find love in the New Year. Others wear yellow underwear in the hopes that it will bring money. • For Songkran, the Thai New Year (not the same date as ours), people drench passersby with water from buckets, garden hoses or water guns. I hope you see in this New Year a chance to hit the reset button on some things. But I’d also like to point out that God does not restrict our opportunities for renewal to January 1. I would suppose that you know that already, but I can use a reminder of that fact from time to time. As we gather this Sunday morning, let’s take advantage of God’s never-ending mercies. Robert Lee

In The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey writes about the journeys of Matteo Ricci, a Jesuit missionary, to 16th century China. In an effort to teach the story of Jesus across the language barrier he took several pieces of art depicting the life of Christ. The first images that he showed them were images of Mary holding her child. The Chinese looked on these serene, nurturing scenes with admiration. But when Ricci introduced them to images of Jesus’ crucifixion, his audience recoiled in disgust. He found himself struggling to convince them that this man who had been executed like a common criminal was actually the one who was worthy of their adoration. Instead, their affections gravitated toward the matronly virgin holding the infant Christ. Yancey goes on to note that, if the Christmas cards he receives are any indicator, most of us prefer to do the same. He says: “We observe a mellow, domesticated holiday purged of any hint of scandal. Above all, we purge from it any reminder of how the story that began in Bethlehem turned out at Calvary.” As you know, I’m a big proponent of celebrating Christmas with everyone else in December. Never mind that we don’t know when Jesus was born. If so many others are mindful of Jesus’ birth this time of year, then let’s do the same. In fact, I think we should do many of our fellow celebrants one better. For most, Christmas ended at midnight last night. In no time at all we’ll see trashcans stuffed full of cardboard and wrapping paper. Once-green Christmas trees will be lying curbside, turning gray. And all of the baby Jesus’ resting in their mangers will be stowed away in attics and sheds until after Thanksgiving next year. But for us, Christmas is just beginning. Immanuel, “God With Us,” is still with us. And he’s got more to do than just lie in a manger not making any noise. In fact he wants to make quite a bit of noise. And we need to pay attention. Christ is born in Bethlehem. Now the real work can begin. Let’s start this morning.

It punctures my ego (which is often ripe for deflation) to be researching for a message and to find that this same message has already been written and in a much better way than I could hope to myself.  That was the case here.  I found this quote from Madeleine L’Engle, the author of A Wrinkle in Time, and I just had to share it.  It originally appeared in her book, Bright Evening Star.  I hope you’ll spend some time dwelling on it this morning in preparation for a time of worship: “Don’t try to explain the incarnation to me!  It is further from being explainable than the furthest star in the furthest galaxy.  It is love, God’s limitless love enfleshing that love into the form of a human being, Jesus, the Christ, fully human and fully divine. Was there a moment, known only to God when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all his love in to the womb of a young girl, and the universe started to breathe again, and the ancient harmonies resumed their song, and the angels clapped their hands for joy? Power. Greater power than we can imagine, abandoned, as the Word knew the powerlessness of the unborn child, still unformed, taking up almost no space in the great ocean of amniotic fluid, unseeing, unhearing, unknowing.  Slowly growing, as any human embryo grows, arms and legs and a head, eyes, mouth, nose, slowly swimming into life until the ocean in the womb is no longer large enough, and it is time for birth. Christ, the Second Person of the Trinity, Christ the Maker of the universe or perhaps many universes, willingly and lovingly leaving all that power and coming to this poor, sin-filled planet to live with us for a few years to show us what we ought to be and could be.  Christ came to us as Jesus of Nazareth, wholly human and wholly divine, to show us what it means to be made in God’s image.”

Welcome to Celebration Sunday!  Today, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, we look back and celebrate all that’s happened in 2009.  In keeping with the theme of celebration, I thought I’d give you an all too incomplete thanksgiving list.  I am thankful for…

• The people who have taught my children to sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
• This year’s nearly 52 Operation Uplifts and all of the people who showed up with food for a small army.
• All of those who deployed and returned safely.
• All of their families who stayed home and prayed for them.
• The way this church became a Medieval castle for a week during the summer.
• All of the “ big losers” at Camp Idlewild.
• The people who work feverishly to keep this old building running.
• A great group of shepherds.
• Hard-working deacons.
• Dedicated Ministry leaders.
• Everyone who lets us and our kids mess up their house during Lifegroups.
• The way people stand around on the front lawn after church and talk while the kids play.
• Every meal taken to someone who was sick or had a baby or just needed help.
• Every couch that was loaded onto or unloaded from a moving truck by our Moving Ministry.
• The fact that I get paid to read and think and write and pray and then talk with you about it.
• All the times that I’ve thought of something that needed to be done only to find out that someone had already done it.
• Nursery workers who wrangle small children every week.
• Children’s Church volunteers who save the kids from my sermons, and vice versa.
• Another opportunity to celebrate with other people who have been rescued by God’s grace.

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, 'thank you,' that would suffice. --Meister Eckhart Gratitude is a quality similar to electricity: it must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all. --William Faulkner