Giving The Best To The Worst
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
Series I, Cycle C
J. Whitcomb Brougher was one of the finest, if not one of the most colorful pastors in the 150-year history of Chattanooga's First Baptist Church, serving around the turn of the century, not the last one, the one before that. His book, Life and Laughter, is a classic. He may be best remembered, however, when he announced and then publicized that he would be preaching on the social sins of Chattanooga and that he would be naming sins and calling names! Needless to say, the attendance for that service was overwhelming, even overflowing. The attendance was so abundant, even out in the streets, that the preacher could not get into the building. A fire truck and ladder was utilized to lift Dr. Brougher up to a window in the church and he preached from the window to the crowds gathered below.
I thought about doing that this morning, naming sins and calling names. But I was afraid that if I did, my name might head the list. So, I turned that thought aside.
My original title for the sermon was "The Worst Of Sinners." Then, someone in our worship planning session quipped, "Oh, this must be an autobiographical sermon!" I resent that remark! I don't deny it, but I do resent it. So, I am not going to talk about the worst of sinners or name sins and call names. But I do want to talk about what we do with our sins.
How do we handle our sins? Too many times we try to handle our sins ourselves. One of our first defensive reactions to the discovery of our sins is to put a lid on it, cover it up! We wipe the corners of our mouth and all the crumbs off the table and hope that no one saw us with our hand in the cookie jar. We cover it up.
During the Watergate scandal, Leon Jaworski, a Presbyterian elder, was the special prosecutor. One Sunday he found himself at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, the historic Washington church where Peter Marshall had been pastor. As he sat in worship, he noted the Lincoln pew, which is set aside in that church for presidents to sit in when they visit there for worship. It's the pew in which Lincoln sat during the Civil War years when he came to church. Suddenly there was a hush in the congregation, and down the aisle walked Richard Nixon with an usher who seated him in the Lincoln pew. Leon Jaworski, sitting several pews behind that pew, recollected in his mind all that he knew from having listened to the Nixon tapes. He knew that the president could be indicted for criminal activity beyond any shadow of doubt. There he sat in worship. He wondered in his own mind what would happen if the president suddenly stood up and said to the pastor of the church, who was Dr. George M. Docherty at the time, "Dr. Docherty, I would like a moment of special privilege," and then would turn to the congregation and say, "I want to say today that, as President of the United States, I have sinned before God and I have lied to you. I have asked his forgiveness and I now ask yours. I have come to this church today to make full disclosure of who and what I am and what I have become. I promise you from this day forward I'm going to do better."
Leon Jaworski said if he had done that as he had turned it in his mind, we would have probably gathered the president up and put him on our shoulders and carried him back to the White House.1
I do not know if Mr. Jaworski was right or not. I do know that I have found people to be very kind, generous, and forgiving when the truth is made known and done so willingly. Also, I have found people very intolerant to a situation lacking in integrity, or one that smacks of any kind of cover-up.
Another way that we try to handle our sins, when faced with them, is to excuse our wrongful behavior. From the beginning we have sought to find a scapegoat or to blame someone else for our wrongdoing. Adam declared, "The woman made me do it!" Eve, backing into a corner, defended, "Don't blame me; it was the serpent!"
I think that it was Mark Twain who said, "If God had forbidden the man and the woman not to eat the snake, the problem would have been solved." I hate to disagree with one of America's foremost sages, but man probably still would find someone else upon whom to pin the blame. It is just too easy to avoid the blame and to play the game of "If it weren't for you...!" It is similar to the two children who were scuffling. When separated by an adult, one exclaimed, "It all started when he hit me back." Adam and Eve were not the last ones to try to blame someone else.
Another way we handle or mishandle our sins is to try to justify our dastardly deeds. "Well, what I did was not all that bad. No one was hurt!" Or we postulate, "Well, what I did pales in comparison to what the television evangelist (politician, movie star) did." We almost always can find someone to whom we can compare ourselves favorably. Of course, we do not want to be reminded that we could compare ourselves to Mother Teresa or Billy Graham, and so on!
Another way we seek to deal with our error is to correct it within ourselves. "Give me another chance and I'll do better next time!" So, we turn over a new leaf, usually just to mess up a clean page. We try to correct it, cover it up, justify it, all in an effort to avoid dealing with our sins.
Another way we seek to avoid dealing with our sins is to simply forget them. "I do not want to think about it. Don't remind me. I'll just blot it out. Pretend it never happened." So, we seek to store our wrongs in the recesses of the hidden closets of our hearts and minds. But they are still there. The dynamic is mindful of the group of people who were meeting each week for the purpose of confessing sin. A first-timer noted, "This is a noble idea, to meet and confess your sins to one another!" To which a member of the group responded, "Oh, we don't confess our sins. We confess everyone else's!" How easy it is to center upon everyone else's sins and to ignore our own. I think that we call that gossip!
It is interesting, however, to note what the Apostle Paul chose to do with his sins, which were not minor! Paul chose to remember. That's right! He chose to remember his sins. He decided not to try to handle them himself, excuse, justify, or forget! He chose to remember and to recount them openly. Please notice that this is not the morbid word of a man wallowing in remorse and self-pity. Here is an individual publicly professing his testimony which not only helps him, but, he hopes, serves others as well. Hear his word.
"I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief" (vv. 12-13 NIV). Paul knew exactly what to do with his sins -- he confessed them. He "said the same" about his sins as did God, claiming the promise. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9 NIV). Paul repeatedly recounted his story, each time, in fact, that he got in trouble as twice he did in the book of Acts. Paul's insistence upon remembering his sin was a constant reminder of the fact that he was a forgiven sinner of much wrongdoing. It also reminded him of God's grace and mercy still operative in his life and crafting him into the servant of God that he was.
It was Paul's remembrance of and confession of his sins that kept him from spiritual pride. John Newton was a naval deserter who later found himself a ship's captain in the despicable horror of the slave trade.
When John Newton became a converted man and a preacher of the gospel, he wrote a text in great letters and fastened it above the mantlepiece of his study, where he could not fail to see it: "Thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt and the Lord thy God redeemed thee." John Newton composed his own epitaph and it reads: "John Newton, clerk, once an Infidel and Libertine, a Servant of the Slaves in Africa, was by the Mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, Preserved, Restored, Pardoned, and appointed to Preach the Faith he had so long labored to destroy."2 John Newton never forgot that he was a forgiven sinner: neither did Paul. Neither must we.
Paul's remembrance of his past also gave to him the opportunity to profess his experience of God's grace. "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the worst" (vv. 14-15 NIV). Paul, as did John Newton later, knew that he had received far better than he deserved. God had given his very best to the self-proclaimed worst of sinners. The very best of God extended to even the very worst of us -- that is grace!
A little boy sat at the table with his father and family. It was an important social gathering. Everyone was dressed nicely. They were trying to be on their best behavior using the best of manners. But as would happen, the boy knocked over his glass of milk, on the table and all over the linen tablecloth. Everyone began to grab napkins and forks and spoons. He shyly looked up at his father with a feeling of dread and apprehension in his heart. His father, simply looked at his son, then knocked over his own glass of milk and laughed! That's grace! That's the love and mercy of our Heavenly Father who loves you more than he loves himself or his pride. That is grace! That is the grace extended to Paul and John Newton. That is the grace extended to you and me.
Paul also chose to handle his sin by using his experience of grace as an encouraging example to others. "But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life" (v. 16 NIV). The attitude of Paul was, "Look at me! If God can save me, the worst of sinners, he can save anyone. Even you!"
The witness of the biblical record is that God always has acted in similar fashion. Why did God choose a boozy carpenter, Noah, and his gossipy son, Ham, as the most unlikely candidates with whom to start again the human race? Why did God choose an old man, half-dead with no heirs, who was prone to lie to save his neck, to be the father of many peoples and a blessing to the world? Why did God choose an unwilling stutterer to be his spokesperson to try to convince the most powerful man on earth to free a rag-tag group of slaves? Possibly he did so for the same reason that he chose a religious fanatic, hell-bent on destroying the faith, then to proclaim the very faith he vehemently sought to demolish. Possibly, God sought to show his strength not necessarily that of those he chose. Perhaps God wanted to demonstrate his power to use the weakest of vessels to display his mighty strength. Then, there would be no doubt as to whose power really was in action.
Paul was such an example and encouragement to others that God could and would use any and all of us to show his power and strength. If God could use Paul, he can use me. He even used John Newton, the former slave leader, who later influenced politicians to pass laws to end the international slave trade. And, oh, yes, God also used him to write a song you may have heard, "Amazing Grace!"
I think that Paul's remembrance of his sins and countless recollection of his experience of grace helped him to keep alive the flame of his gratitude. That is why, in our text, after the recalling of God's grace in his life, he bursts forth with one of the most memorable expressions of doxology in holy writ. "Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen" (v. 17 NIV). It was as if when Paul recalled how he had hurt God and hurt others and then remembered how gracious God had been to him, how else could he respond except with grateful praise? How else can we? It is similar to the old gospel hymn which sings, "Justice called and mercy answered!" How fortunate we are that "mercy answered."
It was Buckner Fanning who first related he following to me. It originated as an article in a Midwestern newspaper under the "Lost and Found" column. It read:
Lost: dog. Brown fur, some of it missing due to mange. Blind in one eye, partially deaf. Limps because of recent automobile accident. Slightly arthritic. Answers to the name of "Lucky."
The first time that I heard that, I laughed as probably you did. I could just picture in my mind this old, dingy brown, skinny, mangy dog, arthritic, crippled, limping around, half-deaf, half-blind, half-dead! And answers to the name of "Lucky"? But, you know, he was lucky. He was a lucky dog because someone wanted him, someone was willing to pay to get him back, someone loved him. He was a lucky dog because he was loved. I am a lucky dog! So are you! Someone loves you, even when he, more than anyone else, realizes that we don't deserve it.
It is a true story. He was a soldier who distinguished himself at West Point. He was sent to Vietnam and distinguished himself there with bravery and courage. A group of men under his leadership met enemy fire. In fact, they were trapped, but because of his courage and determination he was able to lead every member of his group from the enemy fire except one who was severely wounded. All night long the young lieutenant heard the cry of the wounded man. He could stand it no longer. So he crossed the zone of crossfire, picked up the wounded man, and took him back to the foxhole. Just as the young lieutenant was about to step in himself, a bullet caught him in the back and he was killed instantly. He saved the man's life. At the expense of his own.
His parents were crushed. Months later they heard that the young man whose life their son had saved was in town. They invited him to their home for dinner just to meet him. The young man accepted, but it was a disaster. The man was obnoxious and rude. He was drunk, told off-color stories, and did everything in his power to insult the graciousness of the home that was extended to him. The evening was a nightmare. Finally, the belligerent and hostile man left. The father slammed the door and the mother fell on her knees in tears and said, "Just think, our precious son died for somebody like that." Yes, ma'am, he did!
"... because God is gracious to the ungrateful and the wicked" (Luke 6:37).
____________
1. W. Frank Harrington "Does the Oval Office Relflect Who We Are?" Peachtree Presbyterian Pulpit, 1998.
2. William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus and Philemon (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. 53.
I thought about doing that this morning, naming sins and calling names. But I was afraid that if I did, my name might head the list. So, I turned that thought aside.
My original title for the sermon was "The Worst Of Sinners." Then, someone in our worship planning session quipped, "Oh, this must be an autobiographical sermon!" I resent that remark! I don't deny it, but I do resent it. So, I am not going to talk about the worst of sinners or name sins and call names. But I do want to talk about what we do with our sins.
How do we handle our sins? Too many times we try to handle our sins ourselves. One of our first defensive reactions to the discovery of our sins is to put a lid on it, cover it up! We wipe the corners of our mouth and all the crumbs off the table and hope that no one saw us with our hand in the cookie jar. We cover it up.
During the Watergate scandal, Leon Jaworski, a Presbyterian elder, was the special prosecutor. One Sunday he found himself at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, the historic Washington church where Peter Marshall had been pastor. As he sat in worship, he noted the Lincoln pew, which is set aside in that church for presidents to sit in when they visit there for worship. It's the pew in which Lincoln sat during the Civil War years when he came to church. Suddenly there was a hush in the congregation, and down the aisle walked Richard Nixon with an usher who seated him in the Lincoln pew. Leon Jaworski, sitting several pews behind that pew, recollected in his mind all that he knew from having listened to the Nixon tapes. He knew that the president could be indicted for criminal activity beyond any shadow of doubt. There he sat in worship. He wondered in his own mind what would happen if the president suddenly stood up and said to the pastor of the church, who was Dr. George M. Docherty at the time, "Dr. Docherty, I would like a moment of special privilege," and then would turn to the congregation and say, "I want to say today that, as President of the United States, I have sinned before God and I have lied to you. I have asked his forgiveness and I now ask yours. I have come to this church today to make full disclosure of who and what I am and what I have become. I promise you from this day forward I'm going to do better."
Leon Jaworski said if he had done that as he had turned it in his mind, we would have probably gathered the president up and put him on our shoulders and carried him back to the White House.1
I do not know if Mr. Jaworski was right or not. I do know that I have found people to be very kind, generous, and forgiving when the truth is made known and done so willingly. Also, I have found people very intolerant to a situation lacking in integrity, or one that smacks of any kind of cover-up.
Another way that we try to handle our sins, when faced with them, is to excuse our wrongful behavior. From the beginning we have sought to find a scapegoat or to blame someone else for our wrongdoing. Adam declared, "The woman made me do it!" Eve, backing into a corner, defended, "Don't blame me; it was the serpent!"
I think that it was Mark Twain who said, "If God had forbidden the man and the woman not to eat the snake, the problem would have been solved." I hate to disagree with one of America's foremost sages, but man probably still would find someone else upon whom to pin the blame. It is just too easy to avoid the blame and to play the game of "If it weren't for you...!" It is similar to the two children who were scuffling. When separated by an adult, one exclaimed, "It all started when he hit me back." Adam and Eve were not the last ones to try to blame someone else.
Another way we handle or mishandle our sins is to try to justify our dastardly deeds. "Well, what I did was not all that bad. No one was hurt!" Or we postulate, "Well, what I did pales in comparison to what the television evangelist (politician, movie star) did." We almost always can find someone to whom we can compare ourselves favorably. Of course, we do not want to be reminded that we could compare ourselves to Mother Teresa or Billy Graham, and so on!
Another way we seek to deal with our error is to correct it within ourselves. "Give me another chance and I'll do better next time!" So, we turn over a new leaf, usually just to mess up a clean page. We try to correct it, cover it up, justify it, all in an effort to avoid dealing with our sins.
Another way we seek to avoid dealing with our sins is to simply forget them. "I do not want to think about it. Don't remind me. I'll just blot it out. Pretend it never happened." So, we seek to store our wrongs in the recesses of the hidden closets of our hearts and minds. But they are still there. The dynamic is mindful of the group of people who were meeting each week for the purpose of confessing sin. A first-timer noted, "This is a noble idea, to meet and confess your sins to one another!" To which a member of the group responded, "Oh, we don't confess our sins. We confess everyone else's!" How easy it is to center upon everyone else's sins and to ignore our own. I think that we call that gossip!
It is interesting, however, to note what the Apostle Paul chose to do with his sins, which were not minor! Paul chose to remember. That's right! He chose to remember his sins. He decided not to try to handle them himself, excuse, justify, or forget! He chose to remember and to recount them openly. Please notice that this is not the morbid word of a man wallowing in remorse and self-pity. Here is an individual publicly professing his testimony which not only helps him, but, he hopes, serves others as well. Hear his word.
"I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief" (vv. 12-13 NIV). Paul knew exactly what to do with his sins -- he confessed them. He "said the same" about his sins as did God, claiming the promise. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9 NIV). Paul repeatedly recounted his story, each time, in fact, that he got in trouble as twice he did in the book of Acts. Paul's insistence upon remembering his sin was a constant reminder of the fact that he was a forgiven sinner of much wrongdoing. It also reminded him of God's grace and mercy still operative in his life and crafting him into the servant of God that he was.
It was Paul's remembrance of and confession of his sins that kept him from spiritual pride. John Newton was a naval deserter who later found himself a ship's captain in the despicable horror of the slave trade.
When John Newton became a converted man and a preacher of the gospel, he wrote a text in great letters and fastened it above the mantlepiece of his study, where he could not fail to see it: "Thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt and the Lord thy God redeemed thee." John Newton composed his own epitaph and it reads: "John Newton, clerk, once an Infidel and Libertine, a Servant of the Slaves in Africa, was by the Mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, Preserved, Restored, Pardoned, and appointed to Preach the Faith he had so long labored to destroy."2 John Newton never forgot that he was a forgiven sinner: neither did Paul. Neither must we.
Paul's remembrance of his past also gave to him the opportunity to profess his experience of God's grace. "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners -- of whom I am the worst" (vv. 14-15 NIV). Paul, as did John Newton later, knew that he had received far better than he deserved. God had given his very best to the self-proclaimed worst of sinners. The very best of God extended to even the very worst of us -- that is grace!
A little boy sat at the table with his father and family. It was an important social gathering. Everyone was dressed nicely. They were trying to be on their best behavior using the best of manners. But as would happen, the boy knocked over his glass of milk, on the table and all over the linen tablecloth. Everyone began to grab napkins and forks and spoons. He shyly looked up at his father with a feeling of dread and apprehension in his heart. His father, simply looked at his son, then knocked over his own glass of milk and laughed! That's grace! That's the love and mercy of our Heavenly Father who loves you more than he loves himself or his pride. That is grace! That is the grace extended to Paul and John Newton. That is the grace extended to you and me.
Paul also chose to handle his sin by using his experience of grace as an encouraging example to others. "But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life" (v. 16 NIV). The attitude of Paul was, "Look at me! If God can save me, the worst of sinners, he can save anyone. Even you!"
The witness of the biblical record is that God always has acted in similar fashion. Why did God choose a boozy carpenter, Noah, and his gossipy son, Ham, as the most unlikely candidates with whom to start again the human race? Why did God choose an old man, half-dead with no heirs, who was prone to lie to save his neck, to be the father of many peoples and a blessing to the world? Why did God choose an unwilling stutterer to be his spokesperson to try to convince the most powerful man on earth to free a rag-tag group of slaves? Possibly he did so for the same reason that he chose a religious fanatic, hell-bent on destroying the faith, then to proclaim the very faith he vehemently sought to demolish. Possibly, God sought to show his strength not necessarily that of those he chose. Perhaps God wanted to demonstrate his power to use the weakest of vessels to display his mighty strength. Then, there would be no doubt as to whose power really was in action.
Paul was such an example and encouragement to others that God could and would use any and all of us to show his power and strength. If God could use Paul, he can use me. He even used John Newton, the former slave leader, who later influenced politicians to pass laws to end the international slave trade. And, oh, yes, God also used him to write a song you may have heard, "Amazing Grace!"
I think that Paul's remembrance of his sins and countless recollection of his experience of grace helped him to keep alive the flame of his gratitude. That is why, in our text, after the recalling of God's grace in his life, he bursts forth with one of the most memorable expressions of doxology in holy writ. "Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen" (v. 17 NIV). It was as if when Paul recalled how he had hurt God and hurt others and then remembered how gracious God had been to him, how else could he respond except with grateful praise? How else can we? It is similar to the old gospel hymn which sings, "Justice called and mercy answered!" How fortunate we are that "mercy answered."
It was Buckner Fanning who first related he following to me. It originated as an article in a Midwestern newspaper under the "Lost and Found" column. It read:
Lost: dog. Brown fur, some of it missing due to mange. Blind in one eye, partially deaf. Limps because of recent automobile accident. Slightly arthritic. Answers to the name of "Lucky."
The first time that I heard that, I laughed as probably you did. I could just picture in my mind this old, dingy brown, skinny, mangy dog, arthritic, crippled, limping around, half-deaf, half-blind, half-dead! And answers to the name of "Lucky"? But, you know, he was lucky. He was a lucky dog because someone wanted him, someone was willing to pay to get him back, someone loved him. He was a lucky dog because he was loved. I am a lucky dog! So are you! Someone loves you, even when he, more than anyone else, realizes that we don't deserve it.
It is a true story. He was a soldier who distinguished himself at West Point. He was sent to Vietnam and distinguished himself there with bravery and courage. A group of men under his leadership met enemy fire. In fact, they were trapped, but because of his courage and determination he was able to lead every member of his group from the enemy fire except one who was severely wounded. All night long the young lieutenant heard the cry of the wounded man. He could stand it no longer. So he crossed the zone of crossfire, picked up the wounded man, and took him back to the foxhole. Just as the young lieutenant was about to step in himself, a bullet caught him in the back and he was killed instantly. He saved the man's life. At the expense of his own.
His parents were crushed. Months later they heard that the young man whose life their son had saved was in town. They invited him to their home for dinner just to meet him. The young man accepted, but it was a disaster. The man was obnoxious and rude. He was drunk, told off-color stories, and did everything in his power to insult the graciousness of the home that was extended to him. The evening was a nightmare. Finally, the belligerent and hostile man left. The father slammed the door and the mother fell on her knees in tears and said, "Just think, our precious son died for somebody like that." Yes, ma'am, he did!
"... because God is gracious to the ungrateful and the wicked" (Luke 6:37).
____________
1. W. Frank Harrington "Does the Oval Office Relflect Who We Are?" Peachtree Presbyterian Pulpit, 1998.
2. William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus and Philemon (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. 53.
