Don’t You Wish Faith Was Easier?

12th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6: 56-69


Don’t you wish faith was easier?

I would have liked to have been there when this particular exchange between Jesus and His disciples took place. I think I would have been uncomfortable, but still – I would have liked to have been there.

The crowd is thinning. When we started the chapter, Jesus and the boys were having to deal with a huge crowd – 5000 men plus women and children, and they were all hungry. The crowd follows them around the lake the next morning, and then Jesus starts thinning the crowd out, just by His teaching. He has a little confrontation with the Pharisees, and we arrive at our passage for this morning. We don’t know for sure, but it looks as though by the end of this chapter, the crowd has thinned down to just the twelve disciples. Just the twelve . . .

The questions were haunting. They still are . . . John tells us that some from the larger crowd were offended by what Jesus was saying. “This is hard. This teaching is difficult. Who can accept it?”

I wonder what they thought was so hard? Was it this life of faith to which Jesus calls us, or was it faith itself – faith, as a means to an end?

I wonder if they were they troubled by the notion that they were being invited to participate in the death of Jesus? You do realize that’s what we did here just a little while ago – when we shared communion? You do realize that we acknowledged that we are counting on the death of Jesus for our salvation? You do realize that when we take this meal, that we are saying to the world that we are relying on the broken body and the shed blood of Jesus – that those gifts were enough to purchase our redemption, and that we want to share in His Body and His Blood? You do realize that’s what happens when we take that meal, don’t you? It isn’t a meaningless ritual. It means the same thing as it did the night He gave up His life.

I wonder if they were troubled by the notion that there was something spiritual attached to this life of faith – that their response to Jesus hinged on something more than the physical – that their spiritual response to Jesus would be their sacrifice – their thanks offering to God for their salvation? Jesus basically answers them by saying, “You think this is hard?? What if I were not here? What if I were to ascend back to My Father – back where I was before? What if I weren’t here to help you?”

I suppose I am even more troubled by Jesus second question. The “sideline disciples” – the ones who were always hanging around, but hadn’t really committed to Jesus – they left. Jesus put it out there as plain as He could, and they walked away. Someone suggested that the parallel passage to this one from the synoptic gospels is where Jesus says, “Take up your cross and follow me,” referring to His insistence that we give up our claims to this earthly life in hopes of claiming a spiritual life. I wonder if that’s the deal they walked away from – the simple idea that the flesh and this life and all that we know – that we must give up those things and move into the realm of the spiritual – in order to find eternal life? I wonder if that’s what sent them packing?

Jesus’ second question haunts us. “Do you also wish to go away?”

Lots of people answer that question with a resounding “YES!!” “What you ask is too hard, Jesus. We can’t do it. We love our lives, or at least the pursuit of our lives. We love our families, and our work, and our play, and our homes, and our possessions – we love our past, our present and our future – and we can’t conceive that you would ask us to leave all that to take up a spiritual life. It’s too hard. What you ask is just too hard!!” Yeah – lots of people answer that one with a great, big “YES!!”

There’s no question about it, Cornerstone!! Faith is hard. This life of faith is hard. I struggle with it. You struggle with it. Everything we know works against it. Right up front, Jesus calls us to find what we are looking for – what we need – by faith. How does that Pauline definition go – “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen?” There’s nothing to hold on to – in fact, the very definition of faith is “letting go.” But everything we know works against that. We are people who possess and rule and accumulate – chasing our dreams of autonomy and self-sufficiency until the day they lay us to rest. We are people who create and convert and manipulate and restructure until our world looks more like we want it to look. We conceive all that we conceive – what was, what is, and what will be – as being substantive – things we can touch and smell and taste and hold. Jesus calls us to leave all that behind – to take hold of a promise – by faith. It’s hard. There’s no question it’s hard. It’s so hard – lots of folks give up. It’s just too hard.

Don’t you wish faith was easier? It shouldn’t be so hard – after all, isn’t faith just “believing?”

There’s a great discussion taking place in cyberspace right now. It started several months ago, and has intensified over the summer. The discussion is centered around three questions – (1) what does someone have to believe to be a Christian, (2) what does someone have to believe to be an orthodox Christian, and (3) what does someone have to believe for a Christian to choose to have table fellowship with that person?

Over the centuries, people have asked and answered these same questions. For example, you listened to the choir sing the “Apostle’s Creed” this morning. Let me remind you of the text of the creed.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty,
the Creator of heaven and earth,
and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord:

Who was conceived of the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died, and was buried.

He descended into hell.

The third day He arose again from the dead.
He ascended into heaven
and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty,
whence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy *catholic church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and life everlasting.

Amen.

Now, when you and I start to list the things we believe, we might list things differently. But I suspect most of us would list the things that we find in the Apostle’s Creed as high on the list of things we believe. We would acknowledge the triune nature of God, as best we understand it. We would comment on the creative and redemptive work of God. We would acknowledge the life that Jesus lived in all of its fullness. We would agree that there is both a heaven and a hell, one of which is in our future. And we would acknowledge that what transpires in this life has something to do with what transpires in the next life. We would list most of those things that are stated in the Creed.

But Baptists decided long ago that we are not creedal people. We learned from our previous experience as people of faith that creeds have a bad habit of alienating people from the church. In fact, we learned that dogmatism, in most of its forms, has a way of pushing people out of the church. We learned that orthodoxy creates hierarchies within the church, relegating some members of the body of Christ to positions of secondary and even tertiary prominence, and generally causing division and grief within the body of Christ. We learned all of those things in our faith pilgrimage.

And so, because of our previous experience, we opted for a wider acceptance of people of diverse theological thought. Frankly, we reversed the order of the questions that are currently being asked. We first asked ourselves “what does someone have to believe for a Christian to choose to have table fellowship with that person?” We answered that question like we thought Jesus would answer the question. We’ll sit down at the table with anyone. It doesn’t matter what they believe – our purpose may change because of what that person believes – but there is no limitation to whom we will sit with at table.

It turns out that for most of us, that second question has little merit. We don’t understand an orthodoxy that segregates Christians – either from each other, or from unbelievers. That’s up to Jesus, if He so desires.

Which pretty much leaves us with the first question – what does someone have to believe to be a Christian? We’d like to be able to answer that question – but it really is the question of faith, isn’t it. And faith isn’t easy.

So, Jesus asked His question. “Do you also wish to go away?” It is a haunting question. Most of us have asked that very question of ourselves. “Could I walk away from this life of faith? Do I rely too much on my own abilities and schemes – do I rely on how I live my life as merit for my salvation?”

When the day comes to an end, perhaps we listen more carefully to the words of Simon Peter when he answers. I don’t know if he was answering for the group – he had a habit of doing that, you know. I suspect he was answering first for himself, and secondarily for the group. “Lord, to whom can we go?”

I don’t know that there’s a more honest response. “Lord, if there were a better deal out there, we’d certainly be taking a look at it. But You seem to be the real deal. You have the words of eternal life. We’ve listened to You, over and over. We’ve watched you live Your life out in front of us, and we’ve searched Your heart and ours. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God. You are the One we were looking for. You are it.”

“Where else would we go?”

That may be the most honest answer we can give to this life of faith.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

Requiring the Hunger of the Inner Man

11th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6: 51-59

I want to thank J.D. for preaching last week. You have all said that he did a good job, and that he ought to preach again. I told him about the good reports I had received from you all, and he said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” He suggested that I move down my list of church members – that all of you need a turn in the pulpit.

Don’t let that little conversation leave your thoughts this morning – it may actually serve as something of an introduction to our sermon idea for today.

This last week in Prayer Meeting, we looked at the first two verses of the second chapter of Colossians. I camped out on that 2nd verse, which reads, “that their hearts may be encouraged, having been knit together in love, and attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God’s mystery, that is, Christ Himself . . .”

I love that verse. It has become something of a personal “future reality” description of our ministry together – in other words, when I think of what I want Jesus and His followers to say of our ministry together, this verse will do just fine.

I think it couples nicely with the gospel lesson for this morning, and to some degree, the Ephesian epistle as well – especially that 17th verse, where Paul says, “Do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.”

When I think of that Colossians verse, I quickly see two parts to Paul’s thinking. The first part of the verse speaks to the corporate function of the church – that our hearts are encouraged, because they have been knit together in love. I work hard at trying to make this a reality in our fellowship. Over these eight years, you have heard more sermons than one would normally hear in a church like ours on the subject of church unity and purpose. It has been my thinking that in our formative years, we needed to hear a word from God that was encouraging and uniting – calling us together before we are sent out into the world. I do not regret any of this investment of time and energy – our efforts in this vein have served us well. We are a loving church, and we have a disposition that is unique to churches – we applaud our diversity while we move down life’s path together. This has been a good walk – I do not regret it, and you do not regret.

But when I look at the second part of that verse, the part which reads, “attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God’s mystery, that is, Christ Himself . . ,” I see something of a statement that takes us from where we are to where we shall be in the future.

Do you ever think about our future? What God might hold in store for us in future days, months, and years? I do. I think about it probably more than I should. I hope that we will all grow in Christ – in a knowledge of Christ, and Jesus’ purposes for our lives – even as we go through the ups and downs of numeric attendance over time.

You haven’t had an Amy illustration for a couple of weeks. Just last week, I put a couple of pictures of Amy up on the door in my office. They were taken the day I brought her home. She was not quite eight weeks old, and she was as cute as a puppy can be. But that was June 3rd – nearly 10 weeks ago. Amy isn’t a little puppy anymore. She is growing and learning. Even though she is still small, she isn’t as small as she was – she is in process. She is growing. And she is learning. She is responding well to our training, learning new tricks nearly every day. I’m really proud of her.

I think Christ wants the same for us. Jesus desires that we grow and learn. So, in the spirit of a little 8th year evaluation, I don’t think that I’ve neglected our spiritual growth – speaking of depth of Christian character, knowledge of Biblical and theological truths, and the application of what we know in how we live our lives. I don’t think we’ve neglected that part of the work – but we have majored on encouragement and growing together as a Christian community of believers. I sense a transition coming to us – we might be moving to a time where we seek to major a little more on our spiritual growth – that it might be said of us that we were “attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God’s mystery, that is, Christ Himself.”

So, to the gospel for today. Unless you have spent a little time during the course of the last several weeks looking at the big picture, you might have lost sight of what has been going on. Let me review just a little. At the first of the chapter, Jesus crossed the Sea of Galilee, only to find a huge, hungry crowd. He fed them. They were duly impressed. Jesus picked up on their impression, realized that their intentions were to take Him by force and make Him king, and so He slipped away by Himself into the mountains. As night fell, the disciples got back in the boats to cross back to Capernaum, and the sea got a little rowdy, as that little lake is prone to do. Jesus walks out on the water to His disciples, and they are rescued from the storm. They were impressed, again.

The next morning, the crowd realizes that Jesus has left them on the Galilee side, and so they trot around the lake to the Capernaum side, and catch up with Jesus, asking Him how he got there. At this point, Jesus enters into this long discussion about bread – how they wanted bread, He had provided it for them, and that they ought to be looking for the Bread of Life. They ask Him some more questions, and everything is getting a little serious.

We’re at verse 41 now. There is a subtle change in who comprises the crowd. Notice that verse 41 begins with the words, “The Jews.” The indication is that as Jesus starts identifying Himself as having been sent from the Father, two things happen – 1. the crowd starts thinning out a little, and 2. the Jewish leaders step forward to start asking some questions of their own. Jesus enters into a short discourse, aimed directly at the Jewish leaders.

And now we arrive at today’s gospel lesson. Verse 51 – Jesus says, “I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he shall live forever, and the bread also which I shall give for the life of the world is My flesh.”

Oops. From a religious political standpoint – big mistake. Cannibalism was strictly prohibited in Jewish dietary laws, and Jesus has just given the Jewish leaders a bit of an opening with his “My flesh” comment. They pounce on it.

Do you folks watch Emeril Lagasse, the chef? He’s the one that’s always saying, “Let’s take this up a notch. Well, Jesus does just that. He takes it up a notch. When the religious leaders question Him, He comes right back – verse 53 - “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves.” He adds the drinking of blood to the scenario – sort of a double insult to their orthodox tastes. And then He does it again in verse 54. You have to dig into the Greek a little to catch this one. Previous to this, Jesus uses the simple word for eat, which simply means to put something in your mouth. But in v. 54, Jesus changes words, and uses the word that is best translated “chew on” or “gnaw” – He says, “He who gnaws my flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

Cornerstone, I want to make two points with you this morning. They are simple points, but they just may define who we are for years to come. The first point is this. Jesus wants us to get serious with Him, even to the point that we are willing to leave behind our orthodoxy and our religious peccadilloes. When it comes to our faith, we don’t trust anyone but Jesus. Jesus wants us to follow Him – as though there is no one else to follow. As He puts it elsewhere – we sell all we have to purchase His field of salvation and redemption. We invest everything we have in His pearl of great price. We leave behind father, mother, sisters, brothers, spouses and children – for the sake of His promise of salvation.

The second point is this – Jesus wants us to get serious with Him, to the point that we really chew on aspects of our faith. We gnaw on His words. Kinda like when you eat good pork ribs. That’s a messy meal. You get your hands and your face just as messy as possible as you gnaw down to the bone on those ribs. Jesus wants that kind of aggressive pursuit of our faith. Our faith leaves the banal realms of stagnation and “same-o-same-o” and moves into a glorious place of redemption through relationship. We gnaw on the Savior – we ask our questions, we struggle with what Jesus tells us and shows us to do, we enter into authentic relationship, and we get personal with our faith. Faith stops being just the religious teachings we count on so much, and it becomes something more like the journey of faith Abraham and Sarah took when they followed God toward His promised land.

What Jesus asks of us is just that simple – trust Jesus like there is no other, and really dig into your faith. It’s not hard to understand. It’s tremendously hard to do.

Pardon me for a long closing, but I ran across a story that Fred Craddock tells, and besides – I didn’t get to preach last week. It seems that Fred was “invited to the University of Winnipeg in Canada to give two lectures, one on a Friday evening and one on Saturday morning. I went. I gave the one on Friday evening. As we left the lecture hall, it was beginning to spit a little snow. I was surprised, and my host was surprised because he had written, “It’s too early for the cold weather, but you might bring a little windbreaker, a little light jacket.” The next morning when I got up, two or three feet of snow pressed against the door. The phone rang, and my host said, “We’re all surprised by this. In fact, I can’t come and get you to take you to any breakfast, the lecture this morning has been cancelled, and the airport is closed. If you can make your way down the block and around the corner, there is a little depot, a bus depot, and it has a café. I’m sorry.” I said, “I’ll get around.” I put on that little light jacket; it was nothing. I got my little cap and put it on; it didn’t even help me in the room. I went into the bathroom and unrolled long sheets of toilet paper and made a net in the cap so that it would protect my head against that icy wind.

I went outside, shivering – the wind was cold, the snow was deep. I slid and bumped and finally made it around the corner into the bus station. Every stranded traveler in Western Canada was in there, strangers to each other and to me, pressing and pushing and loud. I finally found a place to sit, and after a lengthy time a man in a greasy apron came over and said, “What’ll you have?” I said, “May I see a menu?” He said, “What do you want a menu for? We have soup.” I said, “What kinds of soup do you have?” And he said, “Soup. You want some soup?” I said, “That was what I was going to order – soup.” He brought the soup, and I put the spoon to it – Yuck! It was the awfulest. It was kind of gray looking; it was so bad I couldn’t eat it, but I sat there and put my hands about it. It was warm, and so I sat there with my head down, my head wrapped in toilet paper, bemoaning and beweeping my outcast state with the horrible soup. But it was warm, so I clutched it and stayed bent over my soup stove.

The door opened again. The wind was icy, and somebody yelled, “Close the door!” In came this woman clutching her little coat. She found a place, not far from me. The greasy apron came, “What do you want?” And she said, “Glass of water.” He brought a glass of water, took out his tablet and said, “Now what will you have?” She said, “Just the water.” He said, “You have to order lady.” “Well, I just want a glass of water.” “Look, I have customers that pay – what do you think this is, a church or something? Now what do you want?” She said, “Just a glass of water and some time to get warm.” “Look, there are people that are paying here. If you’re not going to order, you’ve got to leave!” And he got real loud about it. So she got up to leave and, almost as if rehearsed, everybody in that little café stood up and started toward the door. I got up and said, “I’m voting for something here; I don’t know what it is.” And the man in the greasy apron said, “All right, all right, all right, she can stay.” Everybody sat down, and he brought her a bowl of soup.

I said to the person sitting there by me, “Who is she?” He said, “I never saw her before.” The place grew quiet, but I heard the sipping of that awful soup. I said, “I’m going to try that again.” I put my spoon to the soup – you know, it was not bad soup. Everybody was eating this soup. I started eating the soup, and it was pretty good soup. I have no idea what kind of soup it was. I don’t know what was in it, but I do recall when I was eating it, it tasted a little bit like bread and wine. Just a little like bread and wine.” [1]

We didn’t serve communion today – we will next week. But then, again – we serve the communion of our souls with one another every time these doors are open. Jesus serves our meal. He wants us to really enjoy it.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.

[1] (Fred B. Craddock, Craddock Stories, Mike Graves & Richard F. Ward, eds., Chalice Press, 2001, pp. 83-84).

WHICH KING DO YOU SERVE?

10th Sunday after Pentecost

2nd Samuel 18:5-33

If anyone has been around me for any length of time, they will tell you that I really love stories about kings, knights, medieval battles, and the sorts. In fact, one of my favorite films ever is “Braveheart”. Most of you probably remember this movie. It starred Mel Gibson and won the best picture in 1995. (And, oh by the way, I know Doc Dunn has it in his Best Pictures Collection).

I always admire the bravery and honor that is portrayed by the heroic knight figures or king figures. I also like the sagas about the kingdoms, and the battles that are fought to protect or enlarge the kingdoms. Likewise, I enjoy the old testament stories of the Kings, Princes, and others and how God works in and through them and their lineage.

So, I was intrigued when I saw an article in last Sunday’s local newspaper that was titled “Was David Judaism’s King Arthur?” The article basically contrasted the opinion of 2 sets of archaeologists. One side gave evidence as to how and why David did not even exist. The other side gave evidence as to how he did exist.

With that said, that is why we are mainly looking this Sunday at the old testament scripture from the lectionary. The relationship between King David and his son Absalom is laid out in 2nd Samuel Chapters 13 – 18. The story begins with Absalom’s ½ brother, Amnon, violating Absalom’s sister, Tamar. Absalom became extremely upset as you could imagine. He plotted to kill Amnon and succeeded. It is not clear how David fully reacted to this situation. We only see in Verse 21 of Chapter 13 that David was very angry. What we do know about Absalom, however, is that he began his quest to overthrow his father David as king. In Chapter 15 of 2nd Samuel, Absalom begins making himself as the king’s judge of the people. He makes empty promises to the people and “steals away the hearts of the people of Israel” – as we see in verse 6. The people of Israel begin looking to Absalom as king instead of the rightful king – David.

We don’t really know what caused Absalom to begin the overthrow. Was it his pride, jealousy, selfishness, or just anger over the way David handled the situation with Tamar and Amnon? But, what we do know is it was not Absalom’s appointed time to rule. It was David’s. And, Absalom would most likely be appointed as King after David dies. But, for whatever reason, Absalom decides he is to be king – now.

Aren’t Absalom’s attitude and actions very similar to people – us – in our day? “I want this __________ and I want it now!!!! For Absalom, it was all about ME…I am King… Don’t we also want to be our own kings? Don’t we also want to serve ourselves or make ourselves out to be king instead of serving the king?

Now let’s take a look at the people who were under the Kings rule, the men and women of Israel. As I stated earlier, many were following after Absalom and serving him because of the way he dealt with them – making empty promises – as seen in verses 4 – 6 of Chapter 15. They thought Absalom was a “Nice Guy”. I can hear the people saying “Oh Absalom is so nice.” He is also young, nice looking. You know, he is not as hard on us as David is...and so on and so on… However, many continued to follow David – serving him as the rightful, God appointed king. Needless to say, the kingdom was divided.

But, my attention was drawn to one person in Chapter 15. His name was Ittai the Gittite (see verse 19). This man was given permission by David to go back to his own land along with his relatives (as he was a foreigner) and not face the danger and possible deadly battle between David and his conspiring son, Absalom. But, look at Ittai’s response to David in verse 21. “As the Lord lives and as my lord the king lives, surely wherever my lord the king may be, whether for death or for life, there also your servant will be”. Wow, this man knew who the rightful king was and was willing to give everything he had in service to the king – life or death. And, we see in Chapter 18 verse 2 Ittai was appointed as a commander over 1/3 of the king’s people. David was also apparently impressed by his willingness to serve and give everything he had towards that service no matter what.

Well, what about Absalom? What did he get for his conspiracy to overthrow his father as King? Absalom’s reward for his efforts to take over the kingdom was death. He didn’t get to be king over all of Israel like he wanted. He didn’t get glory. He didn’t get honor. He didn’t sit on the throne. No, all he got was death. And, David lost another son…another would be heir to the kingdom. Absalom’s pursuit of his own selfish desires brought him to death. Isn’t it exactly the same for us when we pursue our own selfish desires as well? They ultimately lead to non fulfillment, disappointment and ultimately - death.

So, which King do you serve? Which King in this day and age do we follow? Who do we give our service to? Who are we loyal subjects to? Is it our job? Is it the pursuit of riches or fame? Is it our family? Is it those or that person we have a significant relationship with? Is it our Church? Or, is it ourselves…much like Absalom?

Or is it the One True King appointed by God also known as Jesus Christ? For you see, in the new testament we find The King. The King foretold of by the prophets. However, this King is not what we expected. He didn’t come with sword, armor and earthly kingdom battles on his mind. No, He came to give us an example of how to truly live a life of service to others. His kingdom He talked about was not on this earth…no it was heavenly and for eternity. And, He was willing to ultimately give up His life as a sacrifice for the redemption of us…his subjects. And now He sits at the right hand of God in heaven awaiting our arrival. WOW, what a King!!!

Is this the King you serve? Are you like Ittai who we read about earlier? Do you recognize the One True King of the universe and are you willing to serve Him wherever and no matter what… life or death? Or, are you like Absalom, looking out for your own selfish desires being your own king? Serve this King… the King of Kings…the Lord of Lords…and truly live…forever. As we heard earlier in the scripture Anna read for us…He is the Bread of Life. There is a quote on the cover of this Braveheart movie…”Every man dies, not every man really lives”. Are you really living? Service to this King offers you life in His Kingdom eternally…

Let’s pray.

J.D.Sarver

Making Every Effort . . . In the Bond of Peace

9th Sunday after Pentecost

Ephesians 4:1-16

I received an e-mail this week from a friend, and I want to share this little parable with you.

You are driving down the road in your car on a wild, stormy night, when you pass by a bus stop and you see three people waiting for the bus: 1. An old lady who looks as if she is about to die. 2. An old friend who once saved your life. 3. The perfect partner you have been dreaming about.

Which one would you choose to offer a ride, knowing that there could only be one passenger in your car?

This is a moral/ethical dilemma that was once actually used as part of a job application. You could pick up the old lady, because she is going to die, and thus you should save her first. Or you could take the old friend because he once saved your life, and this would be the perfect chance to pay him back. However, you may never be able to find your perfect mate again.

The candidate who was hired (out of 200 applicants) had no trouble coming up with his answer. He simply answered: "I would give the car keys to my old friend and let him take the lady to the hospital. I would stay behind and wait for the bus with the partner of my dreams."

Sometimes, we gain more if we are able to give up our stubborn thought limitations.

Never forget to "Think Outside of the Box."

I have been in a strange (and I am beginning to believe, wonderful) place for the last three weeks – ever since I returned from Children’s camp with our boys. My experiences over these weeks culminated this past Thursday with a lunch meeting in which I was asked to play a role that is rather foreign to me – I was invited to listen while two men told their stories to one another. Except for two clarifying statements, I pretty much just nodded and offered the occasional bit of small talk while I ate my club sandwich and drank my iced tea.

This is a role which is, for me, unusual. I have preferred a different role – that of antagonist and freedom fighter. I have participated in that role so many times in my life, and this week I realized something – it has gotten me nowhere. I haven’t accomplished a thing by assuming that role.

I learned a second thing, I think. Almost without asking, the Lord thrust on me a different role – that of peacemaker. I wanted it to be an active role, but all I was asked and expected to do was to be present.

I’m working from the epistle to the Ephesians today, but I read the gospel for today, and read some of what Will Willimon had to say about today’s gospel lesson. His point – that the gospel isn’t about you, and it isn’t about me – it’s about God. Well, at my lunch meeting on Thursday, the topics at hand and the meeting itself wasn’t about me – the issues at hand were about helping a couple of other Christians get to know one another and one another’s stories to the point that they could better understand each other. I learned a lesson.

Paul said to his Christian friends in Ephesus, “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Man, that’s hard to do. You and I live in a world where conflict is everywhere. We experience turmoil on the job, in our homes, in the community, in government, between countries, between parents and children – the list is almost endless as to where our lives are gathered up in conflict and turmoil. All sides call out to us to “pick a side.” We are expected to be people of principle, standing up for what is right in a world where there is so very much that is wrong, and those who draw us into the fracas demand that we “pick a side” and start fighting, right along with the rest of the world.

This week, I was reintroduced to a better way.

Jesus introduced us to a life of peace. Paul picked up on Jesus’ teaching, and reminded us that we are to make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. That is a high calling. It runs counter to everything in us – to our desires, to our personalities, to our cumulative experiences in conflict resolution. But it is a high calling, nonetheless.

At the lunch on Thursday, one of the men noticed that so very much conflict in religious circles starts out as conflict surrounding a principle or theological opinion, but ends up being a conflict centered around personalities. Two people enter into a struggle, and pretty soon they start enlisting people to join them, not based on the original premise of the conflict, but based on their faithfulness to each other, to additional principles, or to the “rightness of their cause.” I’ve seen it a hundred times. I’ve seen it too many times from the middle of the fight, rarely wondering how I got involved in such a fracas.

Someone asked me this week what I thought my role would be at the lunch, and being in the midst of a personal moment of growth, I responded by saying that I would consider that my role was to be the “Jimmy Carter” at this “Camp David” meeting. You remember Jimmy Carter. I think he is one of the best “ex-presidents” we’ve ever had. Regardless of what you think of his politics, Jimmy Carter has been a spokesperson over these last 30 years for peace and the process of peace. We know much of what he attempted to do while he was President for the cause of world peace, especially in the Middle East. His work has continued after his presidency. His work with Habitat for Humanity has sought to alleviate much of the cause of conflict in the world by helping create affordable housing for people who cannot afford a place to live any other way. He has continued to be involved in helping people work out their differences in a number of venues. Rather recently, President Carter attempted a work of reconciliation between several groups of Baptists. You and I know how Baptists love to fight, don’t we. The success of his efforts may seem dismal at the moment, but time may prove that they have been fruitful.

Jimmy Carter learned something in taking up this cause of peacemaking. The sessions, the discussion, the banter, and any conclusions and reconciliation – these things aren’t about him. They are about the people he is trying to help. He had to learn that lesson. I have had to learn that lesson – again.

You might very well ask, “Pastor, what about our real differences? What about the honest differences?”

I think Paul spoke to this matter. He spoke to it in two ways. First, he spoke to our similarities. He said, “there is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.” Paul spoke of our similarities.

After the lunch on Thursday, one of the gentlemen wrote on his website, “He and I are far more alike than we are different. After hearing his story, I discovered that he has faced (and is facing) many of the same struggles I faced. I believe he is a man of integrity. We may not agree on every issue, but we do on most.” I think that would be the testimony of most of us when we get right down to it. We are all far more alike than we are different. We should focus much more of the time on our similarities, and make much less of our differences.

But there are genuine differences. I think Paul addressed that reality as well, when he said, “some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers.” He was using the illustration of diversity of gifts in the body of Christ, but his point was that we should rejoice and delight in our diversity, rather than consider our diversity a point of controversy or a reason for fear or haughtiness or concern. Diversity is a good thing – God has created this to be a diverse world, full of opportunity and expression.

“Can we believe just anything and be okay?” The scripture doesn’t suggest such an idea. The scripture speaks of “sound doctrine,” calling us to speak the “truth.” But there is this caveat – we are to speak the truth “in love.”

I am learning – again – how to do just that. There may be a couple of good rules to employ when learning how to “speak the truth in love.” One rule is this – there is a difference between loving someone and helping someone. Sometimes I get the two confused. Sometimes I try to love someone by helping them. That’s not always what’s best. Sometimes the best thing we can do to show the truth is to just love the other person.

There might be a second rule to “speaking the truth in love.” It’s an old adage – “Better to keep silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.” Sometimes silence is the better proposition.

Oh, while I’m at it, there might be a third rule of thumb to “speaking the truth in love.” I learned this from watching an evangelist some years ago. He was attempting to teach a technique of evangelism where he had another person simply read the scripture he wanted him to digest, and then ask the person what that scripture meant to him. When the person didn’t respond the way the evangelist wanted him to respond, he didn’t try to correct him – he simply asked the person to read the passage again, and again tell what that passage meant.

From that, I think the rule of thumb might very well be as follows: Jesus said some pretty good things. He doesn’t always need us to interpret. We might do well just to repeat what He said, and leave it at that.

We have been issued a high calling. We are to do what we can do – make every effort – to maintain the unity of the Spirit – always in the bond of peace. May God grant us as much wisdom as we have passion to accomplish our calling.

Richard W. Dunn, PhD.