Arriving Home First
Preaching
Distinctively Different
His name is Ralph Archbold. Ralph Archbold delivers talks dressed in the character of Benjamin Franklin. He has been doing this for about twenty years in and around the Philadelphia area. Recently he spoke at an elementary school assembly program, and after the program he was invited to visit a fifth grade class that was studying American history.
As Archbold, dressed in the character of Benjamin Franklin, fielded questions, one of the students made the remark, "I thought you were dead." Ralph Archbold said, "Well, I did die on April 19, 1790, at the age of 84, but I didn't like that very much, and I just decided I am never going to do it again." A boy in the back of the class raised his hand and asked, "When you were in heaven, did you see my mother?" Archbold said, "My heart almost stopped. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. My only thought was, 'Don't blow this!' " Archbold said, "It was as though some divine word was given to me and I heard my voice saying, 'Well, I don't know if she was the one I think she was, but if she was, she was the most beautiful angel there.' " The boy's face beamed and that told me that I gave the right answer.1
The question has been phrased from the beginning of time. Millions have stood over freshly covered graves and wondered, "Where is my loved one?" But today no one wants to talk about death in our society. It has become taboo. We do our exercises, take our vitamins, dye or replace our hair, visit a plastic surgeon, and joke that we are going to be killed by a jealous husband at age 95 all in an effort to delay or deny the inevitable. But the undeniable truth is the mortality rate is still 100 percent. We are all terminal, and so are those we love. When they precede us in the journey, the question is all too agonizingly real: "Where is my loved one?" It is the question stated by the church at Thessalonica to the Apostle Paul that gives rise to our text.
Paul started the church in a whirlwind of persecution and in a sparsity of time. Having heard Paul's witness for only a few weeks, the theological vocabulary of the young fellowship was sketchy at best: Jesus lived, Jesus died, Jesus rose from the dead, Jesus is coming again, possibly very soon. Knowing only the barest of essentials and excited about Jesus' possible imminent return, they asked, "What about my Christian loved one who is already dead or one who dies prior to his coming? Does that person lose out on the promised deliverance of the Messiah?" The idea of a bodily resurrection had little background in a Gentile world probably dominated by the Greek notion of the immortality of the soul. While our context may have changed, the question remains the same. We join the millions of voices who have asked, "What has and will happen to my loved one?"
Our question has at least two possible perspectives. One possibility comes from the mouth of Job, that Old Testament figure, when he said, "Man born of woman is few of words, few of days, and full of troubles. He springs forth like a flower and then he withers." This is a life without God. This is a life without purpose, direction, and meaning. This is a life of despair and pessimism that quickly recedes into cynicism.
This cynicism is evident in a pagan epitaph from the first century. The epitaph read: "I was not, I became. I am not, I care not." This is a world without God. This is a world without hope that descends into despair and selfishness. Existence becomes an exercise centered around self. All one can acquire, accumulate, and amass becomes the placebo to soothe the hunger within us for something we know not what.
On August 17, 1995, the University of Connecticut raised the salary of the coach of the women's basketball team to $170,000 after the team won the National Championship. This was a $73,000 a year raise! At the same time they raised the men's basketball coach's salary from $300,000 to $335,000 a year. The president of the university made $135,000 a year, and the average professor made $74,000 a year. There was a time when the center of our universities was the chapel or the library or the classroom. Is it true that now it has become the athletic field? And how much do we pay Michael Jordan? When we pay those who entertain us more than we pay those who teach us, something is wrong with our priorities. It is a world based upon cynicism. It is a world based upon selfishness. It is a world without hope. It is a world in despair.
Pierre and Marie Curie were the greatest scientists of France since Louis Pasteur. Together they discovered radium. They won three Nobel Prizes. They had everything going in the world except a belief in God. In April of 1906, Pierre Curie absent--mindedly wandered into the street in front of a team of horses pulling a wagon. He was killed instantly. They should have buried Marie as well, because for her it was the end of life. She wrote in her diary: "Everything is over. They dug a grave and put sheaves of flowers over Pierre, and he sleeps his last sleep under the earth; but for me, everything is gone. Everything!"2 "Man born of woman is few of words, few of days, and full of troubles. He springs forth like a flower and then he withers." It is a world of cynicism, selfishness, and despair. It is a world without God.
But Paul speaks of another possibility. We do not have to live lives of cynicism, selfishness, and hopelessness. We can live lives that are distinctively different. The joyful alternative is found in the words,
Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep or to grieve like the rest of men who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. - 1 Thessalonians 4:13--15
No one will be left out! There will be no broken circle or empty chairs. All God's children will be with him forever. "Therefore, encourage each other with these words" (v. 18). Jesus has risen from the dead. He is alive and so shall we be.
It is easy to get so preoccupied with the timing, location, and procedure of the Second Coming that we forget the purpose of its message. The Good News proclaims that death is not an exit but an entrance. Our loved ones are in the sight of God. We all will be united with Christ. This word should cause us to take joy and delight in its warm assurance that is nothing less than miraculous.
Resurrection is a miracle. It is not our right. It is not our nature. Resurrection is a miracle! Resurrection is a gift from God. "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23). Resurrection is God's miracle; therein we greatly rejoice.
Let us be realistic. Many of us already have had a full life filled with far more than we ever deserved. But we, too, can rejoice in God's grace. We also can rejoice that God's grace is extended to others, especially to those who have not been so fortunate as we have been. Think about those who never had a chance. Is not the resurrection God's assurance that his grace will be extended to them? I think of the baby, born with AIDS, who dies quickly, never having any opportunity at life. Resurrection grace says, "I love you." I think of all those who are trapped in homes for the mentally ill. My first year in seminary, I worked at the Central State Hospital in Anchorage, Kentucky, where over 1,200 patients were housed. I saw children who never had one minute's chance. One family produced Jimmy and Darlene, both hopelessly mentally retarded and physically challenged from birth. Resurrection grace says, "There's another world!" I think of the families extinguished by the greed, poverty, and violence of war. Resurrection grace says, "One day we will make war no more." I think of the 20,000 children who die in our world every day from malnutrition. Resurrection grace says, "One day you will sit at the bounty of God's table." To all of those who never had a chance or had the bud of opportunity crushed before it was ever allowed to bloom, resurrection grace says, "There is another world coming with beginnings without end."
Because Christ is risen we can not only rejoice in his grace but also live our lives in a community of caring people. We call it the church. It is the place where we pray for each other, comfort each other, bear one another's burdens, and love each other through the crises of life, even the loss of a loved one. It is a "different" place.
A park ranger was once asked, "How do the giant sequoias live? How do they last so long with such a shallow root system?" The ranger replied, "The sequoias have learned to interlock their root system and interlock their branches so when the fierce winds come, they stand together." So when the fierce winds hit us as a community of faith we stand together. When we hear the death bell ring, we interlock and stand with each other.
A recent widow told me, "I knew this day would come. He was older and we married late. I always knew that he would precede me in death. But, instead of casting a dark cloud, our awareness of that enabled us to live each and every day to its fullest." Because Jesus lives, we can live in a community of caring people. We can live each and every day to its fullest and look toward the future with hope, encouragement, optimism, and faith.
It was said that Beethoven knew that the keyboards of his era were not perfected. So he wrote music that could only be played on instruments not yet built. We build our lives on a foundation that is solid and on a completion that is not yet. We live in the now as resurrected people and as a community of faith. Because Jesus lives, we shall live also, looking forward to the future when we shall be reunited with those who have gone on before us. We are to comfort one another with these words.
Joseph Schultz was a German soldier in World War II. Shortly after his indoctrination he was sent to Yugoslavia right after the invasion. One day his sergeant gathered eight soldiers, Schultz being one of them. After they had walked over two hills, they came upon eight Yugoslavian peasants, five women and three men. As they were told to line up, Schultz realized what his mission was. "Ready! Aim!" With that the silence was broken by the thud of a rifle butt as it hit the ground.
Joseph Schultz tossed his weapon aside, and began to walk toward the Yugoslavian peasants. The sergeant cried out, "Come back here!" The sergeant was ignored. Joseph Schultz walked the fifty feet to the peasants. As they were holding hands, he joined hands with them. The German sergeant cried, "Fire!" Joseph Schultz died and mingled his blood with that of the innocent peasants.
A note was found in Joseph Schultz's pocket from the writings of Saint Paul which said, "Love does not rejoice in evil, but love rejoices in the truth. Love always trusts. Love always hopes. Love always perseveres."3 Joseph Schultz went to his death with no guarantee, with no assurance, with no hope other than the one you have today.
Fred Craddock tells the story of Anson Mount. After serving as the religion editor for a national magazine, Anson retired. He decided to retire to his boyhood home of White Bluff, Tennessee, just north of Nashville. He never gave his decision a second thought until he arrived at the small town. As he looked around, he asked himself, "What am I doing here? I have been away for 25 years. Does anyone here know or remember me?"
Contemplating his decision, Anson noted that his gas gauge was reading on "empty." So, still lost in thought, he pulled up to an old country store which had a gas pump in front. After several minutes, an old man emerged from the store, sorely took his time descending the steps and slowly ambled over to Anson's automobile. The old codger never said a word, stuck his head into the window of the car, and waited. Anson finally said, "Uh, fill 'er up!" The old man just nodded and took his easy time going to the back of the car. It seemingly took an eternity and a day to pump the petro. Moving at his own pace, the old man deliberately put up the hose, closed the flap, and came back around to where Anson was sitting. The old fellow finally broke his silence when he looked into the window and said flatly, "Anson, you want to pay for this now or you want to put this on a bill?"
And Anson knew he was home!
Jesus lived, Jesus died, Jesus rose again. Jesus is coming back. Our loved ones are with him. Our loved ones are at home!
____________
1. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, A Second Helping Of Chicken Soup For The Soul (Dearfield Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1993), pp. 171--172.
2. Ralph M. Small, Standard Lesson Commentary 1972--1973 (Cincinnati: Stan--dard Publishing, 1971), p. 363.
3. William J. Bausch, Timely Homilies (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty--Third Publications, 1990), p. 55.
As Archbold, dressed in the character of Benjamin Franklin, fielded questions, one of the students made the remark, "I thought you were dead." Ralph Archbold said, "Well, I did die on April 19, 1790, at the age of 84, but I didn't like that very much, and I just decided I am never going to do it again." A boy in the back of the class raised his hand and asked, "When you were in heaven, did you see my mother?" Archbold said, "My heart almost stopped. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. My only thought was, 'Don't blow this!' " Archbold said, "It was as though some divine word was given to me and I heard my voice saying, 'Well, I don't know if she was the one I think she was, but if she was, she was the most beautiful angel there.' " The boy's face beamed and that told me that I gave the right answer.1
The question has been phrased from the beginning of time. Millions have stood over freshly covered graves and wondered, "Where is my loved one?" But today no one wants to talk about death in our society. It has become taboo. We do our exercises, take our vitamins, dye or replace our hair, visit a plastic surgeon, and joke that we are going to be killed by a jealous husband at age 95 all in an effort to delay or deny the inevitable. But the undeniable truth is the mortality rate is still 100 percent. We are all terminal, and so are those we love. When they precede us in the journey, the question is all too agonizingly real: "Where is my loved one?" It is the question stated by the church at Thessalonica to the Apostle Paul that gives rise to our text.
Paul started the church in a whirlwind of persecution and in a sparsity of time. Having heard Paul's witness for only a few weeks, the theological vocabulary of the young fellowship was sketchy at best: Jesus lived, Jesus died, Jesus rose from the dead, Jesus is coming again, possibly very soon. Knowing only the barest of essentials and excited about Jesus' possible imminent return, they asked, "What about my Christian loved one who is already dead or one who dies prior to his coming? Does that person lose out on the promised deliverance of the Messiah?" The idea of a bodily resurrection had little background in a Gentile world probably dominated by the Greek notion of the immortality of the soul. While our context may have changed, the question remains the same. We join the millions of voices who have asked, "What has and will happen to my loved one?"
Our question has at least two possible perspectives. One possibility comes from the mouth of Job, that Old Testament figure, when he said, "Man born of woman is few of words, few of days, and full of troubles. He springs forth like a flower and then he withers." This is a life without God. This is a life without purpose, direction, and meaning. This is a life of despair and pessimism that quickly recedes into cynicism.
This cynicism is evident in a pagan epitaph from the first century. The epitaph read: "I was not, I became. I am not, I care not." This is a world without God. This is a world without hope that descends into despair and selfishness. Existence becomes an exercise centered around self. All one can acquire, accumulate, and amass becomes the placebo to soothe the hunger within us for something we know not what.
On August 17, 1995, the University of Connecticut raised the salary of the coach of the women's basketball team to $170,000 after the team won the National Championship. This was a $73,000 a year raise! At the same time they raised the men's basketball coach's salary from $300,000 to $335,000 a year. The president of the university made $135,000 a year, and the average professor made $74,000 a year. There was a time when the center of our universities was the chapel or the library or the classroom. Is it true that now it has become the athletic field? And how much do we pay Michael Jordan? When we pay those who entertain us more than we pay those who teach us, something is wrong with our priorities. It is a world based upon cynicism. It is a world based upon selfishness. It is a world without hope. It is a world in despair.
Pierre and Marie Curie were the greatest scientists of France since Louis Pasteur. Together they discovered radium. They won three Nobel Prizes. They had everything going in the world except a belief in God. In April of 1906, Pierre Curie absent--mindedly wandered into the street in front of a team of horses pulling a wagon. He was killed instantly. They should have buried Marie as well, because for her it was the end of life. She wrote in her diary: "Everything is over. They dug a grave and put sheaves of flowers over Pierre, and he sleeps his last sleep under the earth; but for me, everything is gone. Everything!"2 "Man born of woman is few of words, few of days, and full of troubles. He springs forth like a flower and then he withers." It is a world of cynicism, selfishness, and despair. It is a world without God.
But Paul speaks of another possibility. We do not have to live lives of cynicism, selfishness, and hopelessness. We can live lives that are distinctively different. The joyful alternative is found in the words,
Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep or to grieve like the rest of men who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. - 1 Thessalonians 4:13--15
No one will be left out! There will be no broken circle or empty chairs. All God's children will be with him forever. "Therefore, encourage each other with these words" (v. 18). Jesus has risen from the dead. He is alive and so shall we be.
It is easy to get so preoccupied with the timing, location, and procedure of the Second Coming that we forget the purpose of its message. The Good News proclaims that death is not an exit but an entrance. Our loved ones are in the sight of God. We all will be united with Christ. This word should cause us to take joy and delight in its warm assurance that is nothing less than miraculous.
Resurrection is a miracle. It is not our right. It is not our nature. Resurrection is a miracle! Resurrection is a gift from God. "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23). Resurrection is God's miracle; therein we greatly rejoice.
Let us be realistic. Many of us already have had a full life filled with far more than we ever deserved. But we, too, can rejoice in God's grace. We also can rejoice that God's grace is extended to others, especially to those who have not been so fortunate as we have been. Think about those who never had a chance. Is not the resurrection God's assurance that his grace will be extended to them? I think of the baby, born with AIDS, who dies quickly, never having any opportunity at life. Resurrection grace says, "I love you." I think of all those who are trapped in homes for the mentally ill. My first year in seminary, I worked at the Central State Hospital in Anchorage, Kentucky, where over 1,200 patients were housed. I saw children who never had one minute's chance. One family produced Jimmy and Darlene, both hopelessly mentally retarded and physically challenged from birth. Resurrection grace says, "There's another world!" I think of the families extinguished by the greed, poverty, and violence of war. Resurrection grace says, "One day we will make war no more." I think of the 20,000 children who die in our world every day from malnutrition. Resurrection grace says, "One day you will sit at the bounty of God's table." To all of those who never had a chance or had the bud of opportunity crushed before it was ever allowed to bloom, resurrection grace says, "There is another world coming with beginnings without end."
Because Christ is risen we can not only rejoice in his grace but also live our lives in a community of caring people. We call it the church. It is the place where we pray for each other, comfort each other, bear one another's burdens, and love each other through the crises of life, even the loss of a loved one. It is a "different" place.
A park ranger was once asked, "How do the giant sequoias live? How do they last so long with such a shallow root system?" The ranger replied, "The sequoias have learned to interlock their root system and interlock their branches so when the fierce winds come, they stand together." So when the fierce winds hit us as a community of faith we stand together. When we hear the death bell ring, we interlock and stand with each other.
A recent widow told me, "I knew this day would come. He was older and we married late. I always knew that he would precede me in death. But, instead of casting a dark cloud, our awareness of that enabled us to live each and every day to its fullest." Because Jesus lives, we can live in a community of caring people. We can live each and every day to its fullest and look toward the future with hope, encouragement, optimism, and faith.
It was said that Beethoven knew that the keyboards of his era were not perfected. So he wrote music that could only be played on instruments not yet built. We build our lives on a foundation that is solid and on a completion that is not yet. We live in the now as resurrected people and as a community of faith. Because Jesus lives, we shall live also, looking forward to the future when we shall be reunited with those who have gone on before us. We are to comfort one another with these words.
Joseph Schultz was a German soldier in World War II. Shortly after his indoctrination he was sent to Yugoslavia right after the invasion. One day his sergeant gathered eight soldiers, Schultz being one of them. After they had walked over two hills, they came upon eight Yugoslavian peasants, five women and three men. As they were told to line up, Schultz realized what his mission was. "Ready! Aim!" With that the silence was broken by the thud of a rifle butt as it hit the ground.
Joseph Schultz tossed his weapon aside, and began to walk toward the Yugoslavian peasants. The sergeant cried out, "Come back here!" The sergeant was ignored. Joseph Schultz walked the fifty feet to the peasants. As they were holding hands, he joined hands with them. The German sergeant cried, "Fire!" Joseph Schultz died and mingled his blood with that of the innocent peasants.
A note was found in Joseph Schultz's pocket from the writings of Saint Paul which said, "Love does not rejoice in evil, but love rejoices in the truth. Love always trusts. Love always hopes. Love always perseveres."3 Joseph Schultz went to his death with no guarantee, with no assurance, with no hope other than the one you have today.
Fred Craddock tells the story of Anson Mount. After serving as the religion editor for a national magazine, Anson retired. He decided to retire to his boyhood home of White Bluff, Tennessee, just north of Nashville. He never gave his decision a second thought until he arrived at the small town. As he looked around, he asked himself, "What am I doing here? I have been away for 25 years. Does anyone here know or remember me?"
Contemplating his decision, Anson noted that his gas gauge was reading on "empty." So, still lost in thought, he pulled up to an old country store which had a gas pump in front. After several minutes, an old man emerged from the store, sorely took his time descending the steps and slowly ambled over to Anson's automobile. The old codger never said a word, stuck his head into the window of the car, and waited. Anson finally said, "Uh, fill 'er up!" The old man just nodded and took his easy time going to the back of the car. It seemingly took an eternity and a day to pump the petro. Moving at his own pace, the old man deliberately put up the hose, closed the flap, and came back around to where Anson was sitting. The old fellow finally broke his silence when he looked into the window and said flatly, "Anson, you want to pay for this now or you want to put this on a bill?"
And Anson knew he was home!
Jesus lived, Jesus died, Jesus rose again. Jesus is coming back. Our loved ones are with him. Our loved ones are at home!
____________
1. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, A Second Helping Of Chicken Soup For The Soul (Dearfield Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1993), pp. 171--172.
2. Ralph M. Small, Standard Lesson Commentary 1972--1973 (Cincinnati: Stan--dard Publishing, 1971), p. 363.
3. William J. Bausch, Timely Homilies (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty--Third Publications, 1990), p. 55.
