The Cornerstone Pulpit

Offering edited sermons from the pulpit of Cornerstone Baptist Church in Enid, Oklahoma.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

In the Fullness of Time . . .


1st Sunday after Christmas

Galatians 4:4-7; Luke 2:22-40

As I read this story of Simeon, and the story of Anna, the prophetess, this week, something occurred to me that I had not thought of before. You may have seen it – before this week, I had not. These were two minor characters in the drama of the birth of Christ. At least, you and I would relegate them to having had minor roles. And yet, for them - for their lives - their purpose in announcing the birth of Christ was anything but minor. These two blessed saints of God had waited their entire lives for this single purpose – to announce – to confirm the arrival of the Christ. Their voices were not loud. These were two older adults – you know, the type of people that our society so casually discards – people who knew something that was true – something that would be true. But our world is not always interested in knowing what is and will be true.
We sang the song for weeks.

Oh come, Oh come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lowly exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.

Oh, come, blest Dayspring,
Come and cheer our spirits
By your advent here.
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel
.

And now, for us, Christmas is come and gone. So much anticipation, now drowned in fleeting memories and a good house cleaning.

The Galatians text this morning says, “In the fullness of time . . .” “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, in order that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son’ and if a son, then an heir through God.”
That first phrase at the beginning speaks of time. For the Greeks, there were two ways to measure time. You and I know the word “chronological” – speaking of sequence. This is one of the ways they spoke of time – for them, the word chronos. This is the way so many of us recount our days to each other – we speak of sequence. We say, “Well, I got up at 6:30, and then I took my shower, and I ate breakfast, and then I went to work. Stopped for lunch, and then back to work. Then I ate dinner, sat back and watched some television and read the paper, and then went to bed.” Chronology. For most of us, our consideration of time has too much of a chronological perspective. We find our lives restless and seemingly unfulfilled. No wonder - we recount the days, as though that was the function of life itself – simply marking time through life.

But the Greeks had a second way of recognizing time. They used the word kairos – speaking of a ripening, or a rightness of time. “When the time was right . . .” This is the usage in the Galatians passage this morning – “in the fullness of time.” When time was ripe . . .” Not enough of our consideration of time takes this kairos approach – that we consider the fullness of the time – the ripeness of the time – the rightness of the time.

To be sure, there are instances when these two considerations of time recognition find themselves joining forces. According to the purposes and considerations of Almighty God, Mary’s delivery of Jesus was just such an occurrence. I see both ideas in the 2nd chapter of Luke, when he says, “And it came about that while they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth.” Chronos and kairos – her time was completed, and that coincided uniquely and perfectly with God’s time, in terms of all of eternity, for the birth of Christ.

It is strange to me – the way that God puts people together. May I confess something to you? I need to share with you something of a recent pilgrimage I have been on. For so many years, I prayed that God would allow me to pastor a church. As the saying goes, “Be careful what you pray for” – I now suspect that God took me rather literally at my request – I suspect that you will be the only church that I will ever pastor. There was a time when that prospect concerned and bothered me – but over the last two or three years, I have not only grown comfortable with the idea – I rather appreciate and relish it – and I suspect I will retire from here 20 years from now.
Several months ago, as a by-product of dealing with the passing of my Dad, I went to see a counselor here in town. There aren’t a lot of people I can talk to about the deeper concerns of my life, and so, over the years, I have periodically spoken with this same counselor about where I am in life – kairos kind of things.

Just two weeks ago, I had something of an epiphany in our sessions. He helped me see an internal restlessness that I am struggling with. We also explored an associated caution – that my restlessness not be forced on you as a congregation.

Well, I’ve been pondering and praying about that, and I understand that I definitely have a personal restlessness. But, at the same time, I have a calling to pastor this congregation, and that has not wavered. What I am exploring in my mind, and I would ask you as a congregation to explore in your collective mind, is this question – is there a ripeness – a rightness – to our time as a congregation? Let me explain a little more.

I will always be convinced that God has put us together. There was a rightness of time to the beginning of our congregation. Enid needed this congregation. Our city needed and still needs an expression of the body of Christ which loves God, serves God, and at the same time allows people to come to Christ and follow Christ according to the dictates of their individual consciences. Over the years, we have seen a defining of our purpose – we have come to know who we are – without reservation or hesitation. There has been a minimal amount of the occasional purging. And over the last couple of years, there has been a refreshing and a maturing of our membership. Quite frankly, God has been in the process of bringing new thoughts and energy and personnel into our already established congregation. We have learned, even as we continue to learn, to trust each other. We have learned, even as we continue to learn, to value one another. And we have learned, even as we continue to learn, to count on one another.

And so, I think we are at a kairos moment in our pilgrimage. I think the Holy Spirit has prepared us for this moment – for a “time such as this” – to borrow a phrase.

My problem is this – I’m not sure specifically what we have been prepared for. That may seem to you to be a strange thing to confess. You may see what we already do as being the thing we were created for. Or you may think that “if the pastor doesn’t know, who could possibly know.” I’m well beyond those questions – I’ve moved on to the discovery phase in my own mind, and I’m willing to confess any personal inadequacies in order to get us ready to be used of God in a profound way.

Regardless of what I do not know, I do have some convictions. Whatever God has in mind for us will be “current” in application and involvement, while “eternal” in consequence and implication. That’s the first thing – God has something for us to do – “now” – that is going to bear eternal ramifications. I think that we are at a kairos moment in our pilgrimage with one another – we need not wait for anything else to happen - the fullness of time has arrived. There is an immediacy to our purpose and our examination of God’s calling on our collective lives. And then, as a result of what we are to do at this point in time, there will be eternal implications – what we do now will matter for all of eternity. I am convinced of that.

The second conviction I have is this – whatever God has for us will be “individual” in its application, while being “exponential” in its consequence. Every person who is a part of the ministry that exists through this congregation will be integral in what God is calling us to do. Every person. God puts people within the body of Christ as God desires – I am convinced of that, and I know that you are convinced of that. We are not consumers of religion – we are called people of God on mission to serve God, and a part of that calling has brought us into each other’s company for the purposes of serving God collectively.

Mike Kear posted something on one of his blogs this week that caught my attention. He
quoted Christianity Today in an article where they reviewed a book by pollster George Barna, who has been observing a trend in current religious practice. They said, “Barna expects to see believers "choosing from a proliferation of options, weaving together a set of favored alternatives into a unique tapestry that constitutes the personal 'church' of the individual." The phrase "personal 'church' of the individual" must be the most mind-spinning phrase ever written about the church of Jesus Christ. Could it be that we evangelical Protestants, who have done more to fragment Christendom than any other group, are now taking that to the logical extreme: a church at the individual level, each person creating a personal "church" experience? At any other point in church history, "personal church" would be nonsensical. In today's America, it's the Next Big Thing.”[1] In other words, there is a growing segment of Christianity where the individual is the focus to the point of creating an “individual” Christianity. You and I would reject that notion and that practice, making note of the fact that Christ formed His church, and God places the members of the body, each one of them, as God desires. You and I understand that there is a purpose larger than ourselves in serving God, and church affords us the best opportunity to fulfill that purpose.

I said that the second conviction I have is this – whatever God has for us will be “individual” in its application, while being “exponential” in its consequence. I had something of an epiphany this week. I noticed that some of the work that you and I have done over the past 7½ years has outgrown us. Some of the work we have done has taken wings, and we couldn’t tether it if we tried. I’m not sure we can even channel this exponential growth of our work – although I’m not sure why we’d want to. That’s the way it will be with what God has for us now in this kairos moment of our pilgrimage. We will do things now that will bear eternal ramifications. Like Simeon and Anna, we may live to see all that God does with what we do in the near future, but as the saying goes, “tain’t likely.”

Well, there you have it. This last week, my mind has been occupied by contrasting images – I have posted one of them on the back window this morning. It is a picture of a woman who is near the end of her life – most of what she has known has now passed her by, and she is simply waiting – most likely waiting to die. That image has been contrasted with the pictures I have seen in the Enid paper this week of the nominees for the “Pillar of the Plains” award. I know each of these nominees rather well, and they are superbly qualified, each one of them, to have been nominated.

Those are the images that have surrounded my mind this week – and none of those images vaguely compares to the image of what God is calling us to in this kairos moment. This is our moment – the fullness of time – for us.

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