Saints
Commentary
Note: This installment was originally published in 2010.
Many centuries ago, the great theologian Cyprian said that a person who has God as his father, has the church as his mother. Why? Because the church is the means by which God strengthens and deepens and restores our faith. We learn of God from the psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs of the church. We see God in the testimonies of the saints. When we've lost our way, the church whispers to us of the One who lives within her and draws us back to him.
Syndicated columnist Robert Fulghum tells a powerful story about how saints can influence us. Long ago, he says, he gave up any significant relationship with God. He didn't really want God, the church, or religion to cramp his style.
Then he met someone who prevented him from banishing God from his life. He was so amazed that he put her picture on the mirror above the sink where he washes each morning. Every time he cleans his hands, she's there to cleanse his heart. Whenever he scrubs his face, she's there to wash his soul.
He met her many years ago in Oslo, Norway, during the Nobel prize ceremonies. He was standing among the crowd of guests that filled the doors and hallways of the auditorium.
Then she passed by. She stopped for a moment and smiled at him. For a brief moment, it seemed as if she reached into his heart and understood him. There was no condemnation in her look, only genuine care. Then she went to the front of the auditorium to receive the Nobel Peace Prize from the hand of the king of Norway. It was Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
Somehow, said Fulghum, she reminded me of the things that were missing in my life -- the quotation marks that hung empty, the meaning that had slipped away.
A couple of years later, he met her again, this time in Bombay. She was speaking at an international conference in a large hotel. There she stood, in her sandals and sari, a simple person in a very complex world.
"We can do no great things," she said, "only small things with great love." With that, says Fulghum, "she upsets me, disturbs me, shames me. What does she have that I do not?"
But he knows. Deep inside, he knows. That's why he keeps her picture on his mirror. That's why he looks into her eyes again and again. That's why he writes about her. He knows that between the quotation marks of her life, she has God. That's the source of her strength, her energy, her inner beauty.
Today, on All Saints Day, we do not need to worship saints. But we do need to remember them, in anticipation of all that they share with divine purpose, as Daniel reminds us, or as a lifestyle of influence, and Paul makes clear, or simply because they are the mirror of God in the middle of the muddle of this world, as is evident in the teachings of Jesus.
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
According to the note that opens the stories and visions of the book of Daniel, this famous young man and his friends were removed from Jerusalem to Babylon in the first deportation (607/606 BC). The fact of their relocation implies that Daniel and his friends were sons of royalty or priestly families. It was Babylonian policy to take promising candidates from the ruling families of conquered nations and train them to become Babylonian officials for the next phase of local government.
The stories told in Daniel 1-6 convey two messages. First, they show how the deportees can remain true to their covenant heritage and identity, even while living in societies shaped by other gods and values. Second, they give testimony that Yahweh is the global divine power, speaking through kings and dreams in lands far away from Palestine, and announcing, even in these unlikely places, the growing influence and ultimate victory of heaven's true kingdom.
The visions of Daniel 7-12 are harder to interpret. For one thing, they are clearly apocalyptic in character. This genre of literature, deriving its name from the Greek word for "uncover" or "reveal," emerged during the stressful decades just prior to Jerusalem's destruction and continued to appear on into the Babylonian captivity of Judah and the times of post-exilic uncertainty. Apocalyptic literature has a number of characteristics including:
* Cosmic dualism in which the forces of good and evil are engaged in a final, winner-take-all desperate struggle.
* An angelic messenger who guides a particular human being, chosen for unknown reasons to be the agent for communicating this secret but necessary divine revelation, through the visions and their interpretations.
* Mysterious revelatory images that involve cryptically portrayed creatures, symbols, and dates, all of which are supposed to add up to a certain victory on the part of God's forces and kingdom, but only after periods of intense crisis.
* Language that is vivid, action-oriented, and involves colorful descriptions of things and scenes very different from daily human experience.
* Secret messages and coded communications that may or may not be explained fully enough for the human agent to understand and pass along.
* Urgent calls for reader awareness that the whole human race is caught up in this spiritual struggle, even though most people are completely oblivious of these things.
* Hints that sinister forces are controlling government, business, and commerce and that leaders among these have been taken over by evil influences.
* A massive and critical ultimate battle in which the full weight of conflict is unleashed in an all-out engagement that will bring final and total resolution to the friction between competing worldviews and value systems, and the annihilation of the key leaders of the losing side.
* Concluding scenes of cosmic resolution when victory is won by the side of God and the good, all is restored or redeemed or made better than ever, and a kingdom of peace and prosperity is ushered in.
Although we may be as troubled as Daniel was regarding the visions he had been given (Daniel 7:15), the interpretations put forward within the book are fairly simple. Apparently building on Nebuchadnezzar's great dream about a series of world-dominating empires (Daniel 2), the implications of that vision were now being broadened and deepened, so that more information about the successive kingdoms was revealed. The imminent overthrow of the Babylonian government by its restless eastern provinces, Media and Persia, seems to set the stage for Daniel's initial disturbing vision (Daniel 7-8). When the Persians actually take over a short while later, and the Jewish exiles are granted permission to return to their homeland, Daniel makes his prayer of chapter 9. This, in turn, precipitates the next vision of what was still to come, as the changing powers foretold in Nebuchadnezzar's dream vie for dominance. While the outcome of these latter visionary events remains uninterpreted (note that there is no final word of explanation -- Daniel 12:9 -- as there had been for the other visions) and somewhat mystical, there is no ambiguity about the implications: The God of covenant partnership with Israel is also the sovereign of all nations.
What is most important for our reflections today is the concluding insight given by Daniel's heavenly messenger: "But the saints of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever -- yes, for ever and ever." While apocalyptic visions are generated in the challenging crises of our times, the Word of the Lord is that God remains sovereign and all who trust in him will share the stability of hope, faith, and courage. These are the saints we know and recognize and love.
Ephesians 1:11-23
Paul's words and metaphors trip all over one another as they rush for glory in the first chapter of this letter. Already Paul has pirouetted in delight before the throne of God in heaven (1:3-10). Now he turns his eye toward us who live in this realm. But his rapid-fire enthusiasm does not abate. We are, he says, those who are dancing according to the choreography of Christ, not because we are puppets on a string, but rather because we have only found our movement and our joy in participating in the troupe of heaven. We have become ourselves in the frenzy of God's dizzying grace and laughter. Energized by the Spirit (v. 13), we participate in the lives of the saints (v. 15). And Paul explains that this is a ballet that takes practice and wisdom (v. 17). It is energetic and engaging, but it is also something one needs increasingly to learn.
We have a tendency to hide our Christian faith because we're afraid of the comments of others. We want to go with the flow and mix with the crowd. The pressures to conform with the mindset of the world around us are great.
But hiding our faith is hypocrisy -- just as hypocritical as the polished smile of the fake preacher or the trumpeted piety of the Pharisee. And when we play that game of hypocrisy too long, the quality of our faith can diminish.
Instead, as Paul encourages, we need to become saints, both in fact as well as practice. Knowing God's incredible goodness, we need to reflect the divine grace and glory in all that we do, joining him in the grandest dance of all.
Luke 6:20-31
Ask yourself these questions: What lifestyle do I seek from my neighbor? What kind of people do I truly desire to know? What qualities do I look for in a friend?
Greed or arrogance? No. Insensitivity, lawlessness, destructiveness, disregard for others? You know you stay away from people with those qualities.
Try to summarize, for a minute, the kind of people you need to know to make life bearable and pleasant, the kind of people you desire to have in your community. Here's what you'll find: You want a friend who loves you. You want to be among those who laugh with gusto and joy. You want a political leader who can bring peace instead of war. You appreciate a neighbor who is patient with you. You want a roommate who is kind, especially when you're hurting.
Do you see where this is leading? You're looking for what Jesus talks about here as the lifestyle of the saints of God, or what Paul would later describe as the fruit of the Spirit. You're looking for people, nations, and societies that bear themselves with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. You're looking for people who act as Christian as they truly are!
When the Danish novelist George Brandes was a young man, he looked up to Henrik Ibsen. Ibsen was much older that Brandes, but he took notice of the young writer. Once Brandes asked the famous dramatist for help and encouragement.
Ibsen wrote a long letter in response, sharing this advice: If you want to serve your world, you have to look inside first. You have to find out what you're made of. You have to mine the depths of your own heart.
Then you have to be true to yourself, letting your faith shine for others. Said Ibsen, "There is no way in which you can benefit society more than by coining the metal you have in yourself."
He was right. No Christian can bring anything of true value to his world by putting on airs, by denying the grace of God within, or by keeping the power of the Spirit locked up. Pious hypocrisy is of no benefit to the world.
We're always eager to talk about the worst in society -- corruption, greed, shams, materialism. Are we also eager to talk about the best of God within us? The strength of those who hold weak hands and trembling knees? The generosity of those who break bread with the poor? The courage of those who say "No" when the rage of the world says "Yes" or of those who by faith in God say "Yes" when the scoffers of the world say "No"?
What does your world need? Have you heard its voice? Then begin again today to appear as Christian as you truly are!
Application
Victor Hugo called his masterpiece Les Miserables a religious work. So it is. The story echoes the gospel message at nearly every turn.
The main character, Jean Valjean, has been beaten hard by the cruel twists of fate. He has seen the sham of hypocrisy on all sides. So he casts the name of the Lord to the ground like a curse. What does God know of him, and what does it matter?
Imprisoned for stealing bread to feed his family and re-sentenced by the vindictive will of his jailer, Jean Valjean finally manages to escape. On his first night of freedom, he stays with a bishop, who treats him well. But behind Jean Valjean's thankful mask is the cunning face of a thief, for the bishop has many valuables.
In the early morning hours, Jean Valjean steals away with some silver plates. And when his suspicious appearance brings him under arrest, he is forced to face the bishop again, charged with new crimes.
Then the miracle of grace occurs. For in Jean Valjean's eyes the bishop sees something that begs forgiveness and hopes for mercy. Instead of taking revenge, the bishop declares that the silver dishes were a gift to Jean Valjean. In fact, he says Jean Valjean forgot to take the two silver candlesticks he had also given him.
In an instant, the bishop declares Jean Valjean innocent and gives him back his life. But with this gift of forgiveness, he commissions Jean Valjean to bring Christ to others. The rest of Jean Valjean's life becomes a testimony of one who is made new in the grace of divine love.
The bishop's love erases all previous encounters with religious hypocrisy. It turns Jean Valjean into a saint. It continues to work that marvelous transformation on us.
Alternative Application
Ephesians 1:11-23. Years ago, I had a friend who didn't go to church. He was open to "religion," and we often talked about God, the Bible, and the church, but every time I invited him to come with me on a Sunday morning, he declined. He was always polite, but he was also firm.
He had reasons, he said. And one day, during one of our relaxed, friendly conversations -- and after a lot of coaxing -- his reasons came out. He used to work for a member of our congregation, he said, who often talked with him about religion. But he saw the way the man mistreated his wife and abused his children. He watched the shady practices that slipped in with the fellow's business deals.
My friend was turned off. If that kind of behavior is what the church was all about, he didn't want any part of it. He was right. Hypocrisy is a dirty word that kills the message of the gospel.
There are two kinds of hypocrites in our world and in the church. If the first kind of hypocrite, like the businessman, pretends to be more than he is, the second pretends to be less than he really is. Habits are hard to break, but they are just as hard to make. One habit that demands a lifetime of practice is the habit of a deep faith, a firm belief, and a Christianity that runs true.
Some people believe it is valuable to "sow wild oats" when we're young or to do something just to "get it out of our system." Maybe we do need to experience superficial things in order to find our way to things that truly matter. But we need to be careful, because habits are hard to break, and habits of shallow living are just as hard to break as are habits of deep living.
Paul knew the value of developing the habit of faith. He practiced his faith like an athlete training for a sporting event. He exercised it like he exercised his body. He dug his faith into the life like a soldier digging his sense of duty into his muscles. If he didn't do that, Paul said, there was a good chance his faith would fail him.
Practice is necessary in any area of life in which we want to excel. A woman once rushed up to the great pianist Arthur Rubinstein after a brilliant performance. "Oh, Mr. Rubinstein," she gushed, "I'd give anything to be able to play like you do!" Rubinstein was honest in his reply. "No you wouldn't," he said, "because you didn't!"
The same lesson applies to faith. Have you ever known a person of great faith who didn't have to fight for it, struggle with it, and grow it out of the difficulties of her life?
During World War II, many members of the Lutheran church in Germany lost their faith because Hitler seduced them into ways of living that kept them from practicing their faith. But there was one man whom Hitler couldn't seduce. His name was Martin Niemöller. During World War I, Niemöller was a great hero in the German military. But during the World War II, he refused to bow to the authorities. He was marching to a different drumbeat. And march he did. When Hitler couldn't make him change his tune, couldn't bring him in line with the Nazis' brutal policies, he had him thrown into a concentration camp.
Seven years later, when he came out of the camp, this is what he said: "Christianity is not an ethic, nor is it a system of dogmatics, but a living thing." Everyone who saw the fruits of his life knew who he was and where he stood and how he builds his reputation.
Sometimes it seems fashionable to downplay our faith, to show ourselves in tune with our world, to treat Christianity flippantly. "Don't become a fanatic," we say. "Don't go overboard with religion. I believe in my heart; just don't ask me to make a big deal of it."
But our faith is a big deal -- or its no deal at all. Our relationship with God is everything or nothing. With Paul, we either develop the habit of deep faith or we get stuck in the habits of the world.
Preaching the Psalms
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 149
Sometimes things aren't complicated. Even though human beings have an almost preternatural ability to complicate things, sometimes it's just simple. Sometimes life offers a warm, sunny afternoon and an ice cream cone. Simple. Occasionally there's a day off that allows a lengthy sleep-in and a lazy day of reading and relaxation. Simple. Once in a while a child just reaches up and hugs you for no discernible reason other than pure love. Simple. Though the temptation to complicate is virtually irresistible, we are blessed with infrequent, but wonderfully simple moments.
This psalm presents one of those occasions. This is a call to outright celebration and praise. Let's not over think or analyze. Let's not subject it to the torturous twisting of theological critique. Instead, let's just listen and respond. Simple.
Praise the Lord!
Stop whatever we're doing. Right now. Put down the book. Step away from the computer. Hang up the phone. Simply stop. Open the mouth and praise the Lord! Sing it with a song you have never imagined. Dance it with un-choreographed steps. Shout and babble, twirl and tumble, give every fiber of the being over to praising God!
Can you remember that baseball game in school when you were rooting so hard for your team to win? Can you recall a Super Bowl where you were cheering all out for your team? It's like that. Simple. Pure. Clean. Not complicated.
Soon enough the theologians and the religious bureaucrats will shuffle in to have their say. But for now drop everything. Drop the cynicism and the doubt. Drop the skeptically raised eyebrow and the rolling of the eyes. Let go of the never-ending search for a hidden agenda. That isn't happening here. Right here, right now we're going to do simple. Stand up and praise God! Is there a musical instrument in the house? Grab it. Do you have some dancing shoes? Put them on right now. Do you know any new songs that would lift up the love of God? Download that mp3!
Let the church rise from the morass of institutional paralysis and dance into simple praise. Let the people jettison all the crazy trappings of religion and join hands in a wild dance of simple praise. It's time to do simple, to stand up and praise with all our might. It's time, as they say, to get your praise on. And yes, it is that simple.
Many centuries ago, the great theologian Cyprian said that a person who has God as his father, has the church as his mother. Why? Because the church is the means by which God strengthens and deepens and restores our faith. We learn of God from the psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs of the church. We see God in the testimonies of the saints. When we've lost our way, the church whispers to us of the One who lives within her and draws us back to him.
Syndicated columnist Robert Fulghum tells a powerful story about how saints can influence us. Long ago, he says, he gave up any significant relationship with God. He didn't really want God, the church, or religion to cramp his style.
Then he met someone who prevented him from banishing God from his life. He was so amazed that he put her picture on the mirror above the sink where he washes each morning. Every time he cleans his hands, she's there to cleanse his heart. Whenever he scrubs his face, she's there to wash his soul.
He met her many years ago in Oslo, Norway, during the Nobel prize ceremonies. He was standing among the crowd of guests that filled the doors and hallways of the auditorium.
Then she passed by. She stopped for a moment and smiled at him. For a brief moment, it seemed as if she reached into his heart and understood him. There was no condemnation in her look, only genuine care. Then she went to the front of the auditorium to receive the Nobel Peace Prize from the hand of the king of Norway. It was Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
Somehow, said Fulghum, she reminded me of the things that were missing in my life -- the quotation marks that hung empty, the meaning that had slipped away.
A couple of years later, he met her again, this time in Bombay. She was speaking at an international conference in a large hotel. There she stood, in her sandals and sari, a simple person in a very complex world.
"We can do no great things," she said, "only small things with great love." With that, says Fulghum, "she upsets me, disturbs me, shames me. What does she have that I do not?"
But he knows. Deep inside, he knows. That's why he keeps her picture on his mirror. That's why he looks into her eyes again and again. That's why he writes about her. He knows that between the quotation marks of her life, she has God. That's the source of her strength, her energy, her inner beauty.
Today, on All Saints Day, we do not need to worship saints. But we do need to remember them, in anticipation of all that they share with divine purpose, as Daniel reminds us, or as a lifestyle of influence, and Paul makes clear, or simply because they are the mirror of God in the middle of the muddle of this world, as is evident in the teachings of Jesus.
Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18
According to the note that opens the stories and visions of the book of Daniel, this famous young man and his friends were removed from Jerusalem to Babylon in the first deportation (607/606 BC). The fact of their relocation implies that Daniel and his friends were sons of royalty or priestly families. It was Babylonian policy to take promising candidates from the ruling families of conquered nations and train them to become Babylonian officials for the next phase of local government.
The stories told in Daniel 1-6 convey two messages. First, they show how the deportees can remain true to their covenant heritage and identity, even while living in societies shaped by other gods and values. Second, they give testimony that Yahweh is the global divine power, speaking through kings and dreams in lands far away from Palestine, and announcing, even in these unlikely places, the growing influence and ultimate victory of heaven's true kingdom.
The visions of Daniel 7-12 are harder to interpret. For one thing, they are clearly apocalyptic in character. This genre of literature, deriving its name from the Greek word for "uncover" or "reveal," emerged during the stressful decades just prior to Jerusalem's destruction and continued to appear on into the Babylonian captivity of Judah and the times of post-exilic uncertainty. Apocalyptic literature has a number of characteristics including:
* Cosmic dualism in which the forces of good and evil are engaged in a final, winner-take-all desperate struggle.
* An angelic messenger who guides a particular human being, chosen for unknown reasons to be the agent for communicating this secret but necessary divine revelation, through the visions and their interpretations.
* Mysterious revelatory images that involve cryptically portrayed creatures, symbols, and dates, all of which are supposed to add up to a certain victory on the part of God's forces and kingdom, but only after periods of intense crisis.
* Language that is vivid, action-oriented, and involves colorful descriptions of things and scenes very different from daily human experience.
* Secret messages and coded communications that may or may not be explained fully enough for the human agent to understand and pass along.
* Urgent calls for reader awareness that the whole human race is caught up in this spiritual struggle, even though most people are completely oblivious of these things.
* Hints that sinister forces are controlling government, business, and commerce and that leaders among these have been taken over by evil influences.
* A massive and critical ultimate battle in which the full weight of conflict is unleashed in an all-out engagement that will bring final and total resolution to the friction between competing worldviews and value systems, and the annihilation of the key leaders of the losing side.
* Concluding scenes of cosmic resolution when victory is won by the side of God and the good, all is restored or redeemed or made better than ever, and a kingdom of peace and prosperity is ushered in.
Although we may be as troubled as Daniel was regarding the visions he had been given (Daniel 7:15), the interpretations put forward within the book are fairly simple. Apparently building on Nebuchadnezzar's great dream about a series of world-dominating empires (Daniel 2), the implications of that vision were now being broadened and deepened, so that more information about the successive kingdoms was revealed. The imminent overthrow of the Babylonian government by its restless eastern provinces, Media and Persia, seems to set the stage for Daniel's initial disturbing vision (Daniel 7-8). When the Persians actually take over a short while later, and the Jewish exiles are granted permission to return to their homeland, Daniel makes his prayer of chapter 9. This, in turn, precipitates the next vision of what was still to come, as the changing powers foretold in Nebuchadnezzar's dream vie for dominance. While the outcome of these latter visionary events remains uninterpreted (note that there is no final word of explanation -- Daniel 12:9 -- as there had been for the other visions) and somewhat mystical, there is no ambiguity about the implications: The God of covenant partnership with Israel is also the sovereign of all nations.
What is most important for our reflections today is the concluding insight given by Daniel's heavenly messenger: "But the saints of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever -- yes, for ever and ever." While apocalyptic visions are generated in the challenging crises of our times, the Word of the Lord is that God remains sovereign and all who trust in him will share the stability of hope, faith, and courage. These are the saints we know and recognize and love.
Ephesians 1:11-23
Paul's words and metaphors trip all over one another as they rush for glory in the first chapter of this letter. Already Paul has pirouetted in delight before the throne of God in heaven (1:3-10). Now he turns his eye toward us who live in this realm. But his rapid-fire enthusiasm does not abate. We are, he says, those who are dancing according to the choreography of Christ, not because we are puppets on a string, but rather because we have only found our movement and our joy in participating in the troupe of heaven. We have become ourselves in the frenzy of God's dizzying grace and laughter. Energized by the Spirit (v. 13), we participate in the lives of the saints (v. 15). And Paul explains that this is a ballet that takes practice and wisdom (v. 17). It is energetic and engaging, but it is also something one needs increasingly to learn.
We have a tendency to hide our Christian faith because we're afraid of the comments of others. We want to go with the flow and mix with the crowd. The pressures to conform with the mindset of the world around us are great.
But hiding our faith is hypocrisy -- just as hypocritical as the polished smile of the fake preacher or the trumpeted piety of the Pharisee. And when we play that game of hypocrisy too long, the quality of our faith can diminish.
Instead, as Paul encourages, we need to become saints, both in fact as well as practice. Knowing God's incredible goodness, we need to reflect the divine grace and glory in all that we do, joining him in the grandest dance of all.
Luke 6:20-31
Ask yourself these questions: What lifestyle do I seek from my neighbor? What kind of people do I truly desire to know? What qualities do I look for in a friend?
Greed or arrogance? No. Insensitivity, lawlessness, destructiveness, disregard for others? You know you stay away from people with those qualities.
Try to summarize, for a minute, the kind of people you need to know to make life bearable and pleasant, the kind of people you desire to have in your community. Here's what you'll find: You want a friend who loves you. You want to be among those who laugh with gusto and joy. You want a political leader who can bring peace instead of war. You appreciate a neighbor who is patient with you. You want a roommate who is kind, especially when you're hurting.
Do you see where this is leading? You're looking for what Jesus talks about here as the lifestyle of the saints of God, or what Paul would later describe as the fruit of the Spirit. You're looking for people, nations, and societies that bear themselves with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. You're looking for people who act as Christian as they truly are!
When the Danish novelist George Brandes was a young man, he looked up to Henrik Ibsen. Ibsen was much older that Brandes, but he took notice of the young writer. Once Brandes asked the famous dramatist for help and encouragement.
Ibsen wrote a long letter in response, sharing this advice: If you want to serve your world, you have to look inside first. You have to find out what you're made of. You have to mine the depths of your own heart.
Then you have to be true to yourself, letting your faith shine for others. Said Ibsen, "There is no way in which you can benefit society more than by coining the metal you have in yourself."
He was right. No Christian can bring anything of true value to his world by putting on airs, by denying the grace of God within, or by keeping the power of the Spirit locked up. Pious hypocrisy is of no benefit to the world.
We're always eager to talk about the worst in society -- corruption, greed, shams, materialism. Are we also eager to talk about the best of God within us? The strength of those who hold weak hands and trembling knees? The generosity of those who break bread with the poor? The courage of those who say "No" when the rage of the world says "Yes" or of those who by faith in God say "Yes" when the scoffers of the world say "No"?
What does your world need? Have you heard its voice? Then begin again today to appear as Christian as you truly are!
Application
Victor Hugo called his masterpiece Les Miserables a religious work. So it is. The story echoes the gospel message at nearly every turn.
The main character, Jean Valjean, has been beaten hard by the cruel twists of fate. He has seen the sham of hypocrisy on all sides. So he casts the name of the Lord to the ground like a curse. What does God know of him, and what does it matter?
Imprisoned for stealing bread to feed his family and re-sentenced by the vindictive will of his jailer, Jean Valjean finally manages to escape. On his first night of freedom, he stays with a bishop, who treats him well. But behind Jean Valjean's thankful mask is the cunning face of a thief, for the bishop has many valuables.
In the early morning hours, Jean Valjean steals away with some silver plates. And when his suspicious appearance brings him under arrest, he is forced to face the bishop again, charged with new crimes.
Then the miracle of grace occurs. For in Jean Valjean's eyes the bishop sees something that begs forgiveness and hopes for mercy. Instead of taking revenge, the bishop declares that the silver dishes were a gift to Jean Valjean. In fact, he says Jean Valjean forgot to take the two silver candlesticks he had also given him.
In an instant, the bishop declares Jean Valjean innocent and gives him back his life. But with this gift of forgiveness, he commissions Jean Valjean to bring Christ to others. The rest of Jean Valjean's life becomes a testimony of one who is made new in the grace of divine love.
The bishop's love erases all previous encounters with religious hypocrisy. It turns Jean Valjean into a saint. It continues to work that marvelous transformation on us.
Alternative Application
Ephesians 1:11-23. Years ago, I had a friend who didn't go to church. He was open to "religion," and we often talked about God, the Bible, and the church, but every time I invited him to come with me on a Sunday morning, he declined. He was always polite, but he was also firm.
He had reasons, he said. And one day, during one of our relaxed, friendly conversations -- and after a lot of coaxing -- his reasons came out. He used to work for a member of our congregation, he said, who often talked with him about religion. But he saw the way the man mistreated his wife and abused his children. He watched the shady practices that slipped in with the fellow's business deals.
My friend was turned off. If that kind of behavior is what the church was all about, he didn't want any part of it. He was right. Hypocrisy is a dirty word that kills the message of the gospel.
There are two kinds of hypocrites in our world and in the church. If the first kind of hypocrite, like the businessman, pretends to be more than he is, the second pretends to be less than he really is. Habits are hard to break, but they are just as hard to make. One habit that demands a lifetime of practice is the habit of a deep faith, a firm belief, and a Christianity that runs true.
Some people believe it is valuable to "sow wild oats" when we're young or to do something just to "get it out of our system." Maybe we do need to experience superficial things in order to find our way to things that truly matter. But we need to be careful, because habits are hard to break, and habits of shallow living are just as hard to break as are habits of deep living.
Paul knew the value of developing the habit of faith. He practiced his faith like an athlete training for a sporting event. He exercised it like he exercised his body. He dug his faith into the life like a soldier digging his sense of duty into his muscles. If he didn't do that, Paul said, there was a good chance his faith would fail him.
Practice is necessary in any area of life in which we want to excel. A woman once rushed up to the great pianist Arthur Rubinstein after a brilliant performance. "Oh, Mr. Rubinstein," she gushed, "I'd give anything to be able to play like you do!" Rubinstein was honest in his reply. "No you wouldn't," he said, "because you didn't!"
The same lesson applies to faith. Have you ever known a person of great faith who didn't have to fight for it, struggle with it, and grow it out of the difficulties of her life?
During World War II, many members of the Lutheran church in Germany lost their faith because Hitler seduced them into ways of living that kept them from practicing their faith. But there was one man whom Hitler couldn't seduce. His name was Martin Niemöller. During World War I, Niemöller was a great hero in the German military. But during the World War II, he refused to bow to the authorities. He was marching to a different drumbeat. And march he did. When Hitler couldn't make him change his tune, couldn't bring him in line with the Nazis' brutal policies, he had him thrown into a concentration camp.
Seven years later, when he came out of the camp, this is what he said: "Christianity is not an ethic, nor is it a system of dogmatics, but a living thing." Everyone who saw the fruits of his life knew who he was and where he stood and how he builds his reputation.
Sometimes it seems fashionable to downplay our faith, to show ourselves in tune with our world, to treat Christianity flippantly. "Don't become a fanatic," we say. "Don't go overboard with religion. I believe in my heart; just don't ask me to make a big deal of it."
But our faith is a big deal -- or its no deal at all. Our relationship with God is everything or nothing. With Paul, we either develop the habit of deep faith or we get stuck in the habits of the world.
Preaching the Psalms
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 149
Sometimes things aren't complicated. Even though human beings have an almost preternatural ability to complicate things, sometimes it's just simple. Sometimes life offers a warm, sunny afternoon and an ice cream cone. Simple. Occasionally there's a day off that allows a lengthy sleep-in and a lazy day of reading and relaxation. Simple. Once in a while a child just reaches up and hugs you for no discernible reason other than pure love. Simple. Though the temptation to complicate is virtually irresistible, we are blessed with infrequent, but wonderfully simple moments.
This psalm presents one of those occasions. This is a call to outright celebration and praise. Let's not over think or analyze. Let's not subject it to the torturous twisting of theological critique. Instead, let's just listen and respond. Simple.
Praise the Lord!
Stop whatever we're doing. Right now. Put down the book. Step away from the computer. Hang up the phone. Simply stop. Open the mouth and praise the Lord! Sing it with a song you have never imagined. Dance it with un-choreographed steps. Shout and babble, twirl and tumble, give every fiber of the being over to praising God!
Can you remember that baseball game in school when you were rooting so hard for your team to win? Can you recall a Super Bowl where you were cheering all out for your team? It's like that. Simple. Pure. Clean. Not complicated.
Soon enough the theologians and the religious bureaucrats will shuffle in to have their say. But for now drop everything. Drop the cynicism and the doubt. Drop the skeptically raised eyebrow and the rolling of the eyes. Let go of the never-ending search for a hidden agenda. That isn't happening here. Right here, right now we're going to do simple. Stand up and praise God! Is there a musical instrument in the house? Grab it. Do you have some dancing shoes? Put them on right now. Do you know any new songs that would lift up the love of God? Download that mp3!
Let the church rise from the morass of institutional paralysis and dance into simple praise. Let the people jettison all the crazy trappings of religion and join hands in a wild dance of simple praise. It's time to do simple, to stand up and praise with all our might. It's time, as they say, to get your praise on. And yes, it is that simple.
