A Good, Short Sermon (?)…

The adage is “There is no such thing as a bad, short sermon.” I choose to disagree. As a one-time District Superintendent, I will say that I’ve actually heard some bad short sermons. Actually, I’ve heard some bad sermons, and I found myself giving thanks to the good Lord that they were short. If one has to endure bad sermons, it is good when they’re short!

Why am I talking about short sermons? Well, as one who has been known to preach long sermons, I’m trying my hand at a short sermon this morning. Why a short sermon? Numerous reasons, but primarily because we’re having a potluck after worship this morning, and we have to flip our worship space into fellowship space. That, and the food will get cold. Oh, and I have to be in Dallas before 5:00 p.m., and I need to hit the road.

Yes, I know. Selfish reasons for preaching a short sermon, but it is what it is. The problem lies in the fact that my chosen passage (Luke 8: 26 – 39) is a long and difficult passage. How does one distill demon-possession, cemeteries and suicidal pigs into a 1,000 word manuscript? I’ll give it a try. My fear is the congregation will like it and they’re response will be, “Why can’t all your sermons be that short?”

So, here goes…

A Brief Introduction

I really should have entitled the sermon “Comfortable with Our Crazy,” because that’s what we find in the unfolding events of Luke 8: 26 – 39. I went, instead, with “A Disturbing Presence,” because as we read the passage, we are a bit disturbed by the entire scene.

I mean, really, demon possessed people, graveyards and suicidal pigs is enough to disturb anyone. Yet, as disturbing as those images tend to be, the most disturbing presence is Jesus, Himself. When Jesus comes to town, He tends to disturb everything.

Our natural tendency is to focus on the demon possessed man whom the community has sent to the cemetery. You know? That’s what we do with broken people. We send them to the margins. “That man is crazy! Let’s push him away. We can’t deal with his kind of crazy.”

If we were doing an in-depth bible study, we’d take time to look at this whole idea of demon possession because we are a bit disturbed by the whole idea. This is, however, a Sunday morning sermon and we’ve got food getting cold, so we’re not going to dive into that subject.

The Power of Jesus

This is, ultimately, not a story about demon possessed people. It’s a story about the power of Jesus to transform a broken life. It’s a story about the authority of Jesus, even over the darkest of powers. It’s a story about Jesus’ call to tell others about the goodness of God, so, let’s focus on Jesus this morning.

Let’s focus on the disturbance Jesus brings to the demons. This man lived among the tombs, isolated from society, stripped of dignity, and enslaved by spiritual oppression. Yet, Jesus does not avoid him; instead, He steps into his brokenness with authority and compassion.

This reminds us that Jesus is not intimidated by the darkness in our lives. He has the power to confront and overcome anything that binds us, whether it be sin, addiction, or fear (Luke 8:29-33). His authority over the supernatural demonstrates that He is Lord over all creation.

I am reminded of what the Apostle Paul told the Church at Philippi: “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2: 10 –  11 NKJV).

The Inclusivity of the Gospel

Jesus not only disturbed the demons, but He also disturbed the pig-herders. I mean, seriously, he destroyed their livelihood. If we were doing that Bible study on this passage, we’d look at the significance of the pigs in the encounter, but since it’s a Sunday morning sermon and it is supposed to be short, we’re only going to mention that the fact there were pigs nearby indicates Jesus was in Gentile territory. 

So, what do we learn about Jesus? The Gospel is for everyone! Jesus intentionally went to Gentile territory to spread the Good News. The Gospel is the most inclusive message in the world, but the very nature of the Gospel is it’s power to transform people. Jesus doesn’t intend to leave us the way he found us, either individually or corporately. His Gospel transforms people and entire communities.

The Real Disturbance

When we talk about communities, we can’t overlook how disturbing Jesus was to the townspeople. They had become comfortable with crazy, and when Jesus showed up to deal with the crazy, they preferred crazy to Christ. 

What was their response when they saw the crazy, naked, homeless man clothed and sitting in his right mind? It wasn’t “Oh, how wonderful. Now we can invite him back into the community and to his family.” No. It was, “Hey, Jesus? Could you just leave and leave us alone?” 

Jesus’ presence there on the seashore became a threat to the townsfolk’ own complacency. He upset their apple cart. And worse still, he cost them money. After all, 2,000 pigs cost a lot of money in the first century. Jesus took their known, comfortable circumstances (they had gotten used to the crazy man in the cemetery and knew how to handle that situation), and forced them to confront the unknown. They could cope with the known, even if the known was bad, but they were afraid of the unknown.

The most disturbing thing of all is the fact that the power of God was at work among the people and they failed to see it. Jesus’ presence forced the people to confront the evil that was around them, and that was a very uncomfortable position. We’d rather turn a blind eye to evil around us. Doing so allows us to turn a blind eye to the evil within us.

That is what is most disturbing. If Jesus can drive out someone else’s demons, He might be able to drive out mine. I’m rather comfortable with my own sins. “No, Jesus, could you just leave me alone? I don’t want to be disturbed?”

A Brief Conclusion

Jesus comes in power to transform us and our communities. As the old hymn says,

He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
he sets the prisoner free;
his blood can make the foulest clean;
his blood availed for me.

There are only two responses to the power of Jesus among us. One, is to follow Jesus’ command to the healed man—“Go tell others about the goodness of God,” or two, ask Jesus to leave us alone.

My friends, we are called to tell others about the goodness of God! That is the mission of the Church. Unfortunately, too many of us in the Church would rather be left alone. Which will you choose today?

So, you tell me–a good, short sermon? Eh! Maybe I should stick to longer ones.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Gone Fishing…

If I were to stand in front of almost any congregation and ask the question, “Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ?,” depending upon the congregation, it is likely almost 100% of the hands would go up.

Unfortunately, I do not think we Christians really understand what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. Now, I’m not saying this as a result of my observations of the people in the pews. I’m saying it because I’ve had an opportunity over the past week to reflect on my own discipleship, and I haven’t necessarily liked what I’ve seen.

I’ve been reflecting on my own discipleship as a result of reading again Jesus’ call of Peter, James and John from Luke’s gospel (5: 1 – 11). As Jesus prepares to call these guys to a life of discipleship, He gives them a demonstration of what discipleship looks like. It is in His demonstration to these first disciples that I learn what discipleship must look like in my own life.

Lesson #1: Discipleship is more than listening to the Word.

Jesus’ teaching begins with a session along the shoreline of the lake called Gennesaret. It was also called the Sea of Tiberias and the Sea of Galilee, and is situated 680 feet below sea level. It is called Lake Kinneret in Israel today.

Along the shore of the Lake is where the fishermen would be washing out and repairing their nets after an excursion on the lake. So here was Simon, after a tough night of fishing cleaning up his boat, setting up the nets to dry in the sun, and along comes Jesus who chooses his boat and asks for it to be pushed just off shore to serve as a floating platform. This would have been an ideal way for Jesus’ voice to carry across the water to the maximum amount of the people – and the water would keep the crowds back so that more could hear, because Jesus always drew a crowd.

I wonder if Peter thought it an imposition for Jesus to ask to use his boat as a platform from which to teach the crowds? It may have been a little inconvenient, but Peter was apparently willing to be inconvenienced a little for this itinerant preacher who was all the rage around the lake. Simon was like, “Let’s see what’s got everyone so interested in this guy.”

So, Jesus sits down and teaches. Apparently, it’s a compelling message because when it’s over, Jesus turns to Peter and says, “Let’s go fishing.” Surprisingly, Peter says, “Okay.” Well, he argues a little, but he ultimately defers to Jesus.

I say surprisingly because, well what can a carpenter teach a fisherman about fishing? Peter’s hesitation comes from the fact that one, he’s tired, two, he’s discouraged, and three, he fishes for a living–he knows where the fish are…and where they’re not. Nevertheless…

There must have been something incredibly compelling in what Jesus spoke from that boat that day. Whatever it was, it prompted Peter to act on Jesus’ command. Discipleship is never simply hearing the Word of God, though some of us seem to think that’s enough because that’s all we seem to do.

What do I mean? Too many of us who claim to be disciples of Jesus are content to sit and soak up as much information about Jesus as we can. We join another Bible study. We begin a small group ministry. Join a new Sunday school class. Go to another conference. Listen to all the good podcasts. We try to gain as much information as we can gain, thinking that somehow information equals transformation. Information does not equal transformation. Yet, that’s the discipleship model I see in too many churches (even some of the ones I’ve pastored).

Our fishing has become like Mark Twain’s. Mark Twain liked to go fishing, but he didn’t want to be bothered by either fish or people. When he wanted to relax by doing nothing, people thought he was lazy, but if he went fishing he could relax all he wanted. People would see him sitting by the river bank and they would say, “Look, he’s fishing, don’t bother him.”

So Mr. Twain had the perfect solution: he would take a fishing pole, line, and a bobber, but he wouldn’t put a hook on the end. He would cast the bobber in the water and lay back on the bank. That way he could relax all he wanted and he would be bothered neither by man nor fish.

Discipleship isn’t discipleship until the teaching of Jesus has moved us to action. I am reminded of the words of James: “But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves” (James 1:22 NLT).

If we believe that going to church to hear another sermon, or another bible study, or going to another conference, or listening to podcasts is what it takes to be a disciple, then we have missed the boat (pun intended)! Discipleship is both a noun and a verb. Discipleship is as much action as it is information.

Why are we so content with gaining information? One reason I can think of is that fish are smelly and messy. Discipleship is about inviting others into a relationship with Jesus and that can be messy indeed. Unfortunately, too many of us don’t want to get our hands dirty.

You’d think as much as I like to eat fish that I would enjoy time catching fish. Not so! I’d much rather spend my time doing other things. I want to walk into a restaurant and sit down, let someone else do the messy work of cleaning and cooking the fish. Simply bring my fish to the table, let me enjoy them, then walk out for someone else to clean up the mess. Sure, I’ll pay for the meal and if the service has been good, I’ll even give a tip. I’ll leave full and the only transformation that took place was the transformation around my waistline.

The call to discipleship is a call to action, and it is here I learn a second lesson:

Lesson #2: Discipleship demands radical obedience.

Jesus will ask us to do crazy things…things that defy logic. Peter knew that what Jesus was asking was completely illogical. He knew fishing deep waters in the heat of the day made no sense. It was bad enough that he had fished all night and came up empty, now Jesus was asking him to go out into the deep waters and try again.

Give Simon credit, he said something more than this first reaction to Jesus request. Simon also said, “But if you say so, we’ll try again.” Peter exercised the very essence of submission and obedience—I don’t understand, I am exhausted, I’ve already tried this and it didn’t work. But if you say so,…”

Jesus asked for Simon to submit to his word – and he did – not knowing what would happen. Suspecting it was useless, expecting nothing more than wearier muscles and sunburn. Submission that costs nothing is without value and means little. Jesus asked Simon to go out into the deep water where his own strength failed him and to let down the nets one more time. 

How often do we face similar situations? God calls us to step out in faith, to do something that seems illogical or impossible from our human perspective. Maybe it’s forgiving someone who’s hurt us deeply, or taking a stand for our faith in a hostile environment, or giving generously when our own resources seem limited.

In these moments, will we respond like Peter? “Because you say so, Lord, I will.” This is the essence of discipleship – trusting God’s word over our own understanding.

Ultimately, it is obedience to the Word we’ve received that leads to our transformation. The miracle in this encounter is not the catch of fish, it is the transformation of Peter. Peter exclaimed, “I’m a sinful man!” All this time, Peter thought he was doing Jesus a solid, when the whole time it was Jesus who was transforming Peter.

Discipleship is not about what we can do for Jesus, it is about what Jesus really does for us. Obedience is grace that transforms us into the likeness of Jesus Christ.

Finally, it is through obedience that I learn…

Lesson #3: Discipleship is an all-or-nothing proposition.

Peter got back to the dock, and Luke tells us he left everything. Yeah, that miraculous catch of fish? He left it. Those boats? Left ’em! Those things that Peter believed brought him security, after all, he had mouths to feed and mortgages to pay, were really no security at all. He found his security in following Jesus.

This is the costly nature of discipleship. Following Jesus isn’t just about adding Him to our existing life; it’s about reorienting our entire life around Him. It might mean leaving behind old habits, changing career paths, or adjusting our priorities. For some, it might even mean leaving home or family to serve God.

You and I might not have to walk away from a boat, but there is plenty that we do need to walk away from. Jesus is calling us to walk away from our old life, our old ideas and our treasured possessions in exchange for a new and exciting life of following Him. 

Conclusion

So here are the questions I’ve been grappling with over the past week:

  1. Where is God calling me to obey, even if it defies logic?
  2. In what area of my life do I need to trust God for a miracle?
  3. What might I need to leave behind to fully follow Jesus?

May I invite you to join me in reflecting on those questions? I’d love to know your answers. You can leave them in the comments.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Getting Old Ain’t for Sissies…(Lessons I’ve Learned by Getting Old)

It must be because I’ve been spending too much time in doctor’s offices, but I’m starting to feel old. I’m looking old, that’s for sure. All I have to do is walk by a mirror. The hair is getting grayer, the face a little more wrinkled. That much I can tell. Now, though, the looking and the feeling are catching up with each other.

Getting older has some advantages (though only a few). One advantage is grandchildren. Grandchildren are the cat’s meow, as they say. I’ve said before that if I had known grandchildren were this much fun, I would have skipped the children and gone straight for the grandchildren.

Another advantage is wisdom. Perhaps Job summed it up best when he said, “wisdom belongs to the aged, and understanding to the old” (Job 12:12 NLT), so there’s that! Solomon (the wisest man who ever lived) is credited with saying, “A gray head is a crown of glory; it is found in the way of righteousness” (Proverbs 16:31 NIV).

I’m willing to take Job and Solomon at their word. Sitting in doctor’s offices gives one lots of time to think. As I sat there awaiting my turn, I began to make a few mental notes of what I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older. I began to jot out a few of those lessons and I thought I’d might share those with you.

Lesson #1: I’m not Superman!

Did you ever believe that you needed to know everything? I used to believe that, and if I didn’t know something, I’d make something up just so I could provide an answer. I may not have always been right, but I was never in doubt!

I also believed I had to be in total control of my emotions, that I needed to make a ton of money, that I had to be naturally athletic, never get lost, never feel physical pain and that I had to know everything about cars and machinery. I don’t believe those things anymore.

I’m really not Superman, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Not only am I not able to, I no longer want to. I’m absolutely comfortable in my skin knowing what I know AND knowing what I don’t know. Actually, the older I’ve gotten, the more I know I don’t know, and the more I can admit I don’t know.

Lesson # 2: I’m not entitled to anything.

I really can’t say much about everyone else’s sense of entitlement, especially since it took me getting older to figure out I’m not entitled to anything.

I tried to figure out where this sense of entitlement comes from. It would be real easy to blame it on being an American citizen where our government (and by our government, I mean us) has developed numerous “entitlement” programs to keep us happy, but it could as easily come from being a consumer. More likely, though, it comes from simply being a man (a human) who is, in his unregenerate nature, selfish.

The older I’ve gotten, though, I’ve discovered that life…all of life…is sheer grace! Life is a gift and it is to be enjoyed as the gift that it is.

Our recent little house fire is an example. Oh, we are blessed, indeed! The fire could have been so much worse. We don’t know why it burned itself out, but it is grace that it did. Yes, there’s been consternation with clean-up companies and contractors, but even that is grace. Maybe the Lord is trying to teach me patience, and that is grace, too.

I’m not entitled to anything, and until I crucify that sense, it will be one of the greatest roadblocks to faithfulness to Jesus.

Lesson #3: Emotions are good things.

I grew up believing that it was okay to ask a man what he thinks, but never, ever ask a man what he feels. I don’t know that anyone specifically taught me that. I think it was just understood. Emotions were the domain of the fairer sex. Maybe it’s just the generation I am from.

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve come to understand and accept that the Lord gives us two ways to know him–our thoughts AND our emotions. We are emotional creatures. He made us that way. After all, we are created in His image, right?

Jesus was filled with emotion. He wept (John 11:35). He was angry (Matthew 21: 12 – 17). He was sorrowful (Matthew 26:38). He was compassionate (Mark 6:38). I could go on, but you get the picture.

I could make a similar list for God, the Father. He demonstrates grief (Genesis 6:6). He expressed anger (Deut. 9:22). He is compassionate (Judges 2:18). Again, you get the picture.

Admittedly, our emotions are subject to the sin within us, so we can’t depend upon them as an arbiter of salvation, but it is healthy to express our emotions rather than keeping them buttoned down. We men don’t have to be James Bond–always in control…of our emotions and everything else.

Lesson #4: I can’t do life alone.

Remember what God said in Genesis 2:18? Sure, you do–“The Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him’.” We are created for community. We are, by nature, social animals. We need each other.

I’ll confess that I need Vanessa. I can’t imagine doing life without her. Heck, we practically raised one another (well, she raised me more than I raised her, but that’s another story). We married at age 18, and this October, we will celebrate 44 years together. We need each other!

As a man, though, I also need men in my life. God created men and women differently (Praise God!), and there are issues that men grapple with that women simply don’t understand, and there are issues women grapple with that men will never get. Yes, Vanessa is my best friend, but I need other (male) friends to share this journey of life with.

As a good Wesleyan, we need to practice accountability, and having male (or female) friends gives us an opportunity to do just that. Yes, we also need our time away from the crowds, but even when Jesus went away, he often took Peter, James and John with him.

I can’t do life alone!

Lesson #5: Power can be a positive thing.

This one might be a little touchy given the current climate toward masculinity, but sometimes I just need to “man-up.” Sometimes, my wife and my children (and grandchildren) need me to be a “knight in shining armor.” There is a reason we liked to play cops and robbers when we were kids. It was a natural reflection of and development for our masculinity. Masculinity is also the reason most little boys want to grow up to be firemen and astronauts. Yes, women can be those things, too, but I don’t know very many little girls who dream of being cops or firemen. That only comes as they get closer to adulthood.

Power used appropriately can be a very positive thing. I’m thinking of Ronald Reagan and his famous speech at the Berlin Wall: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” It was an exercise of power designed to make the world a better place. That is an appropriate use of authority/power.

Anytime I can use my power/authority to make life better for my family, my community, my church or others, then it is very positive, indeed. I shouldn’t be afraid of my masculinity in the service of others. It was Jesus who said, “All authority on heaven and earth has been given to me. Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:18). It was authority used appropriately. I need to be like Jesus.

Lesson #6: “No” is a complete sentence.

I heard someone say once that “No” is a complete sentence. It took me getting older to understand how correct they were. I spent so much of my ministry years trying to be everything to everybody that I ended up making commitments that I neither could or wanted to keep. I made myself miserable by never turning anyone down.

Honestly, it was utter irresponsibility on my part. It wasn’t fair to those to whom I made commitments. It certainly wasn’t fair to my family, and it was killing me. I know it was the people-pleaser in me at work, and the devil would use it as a way to distract me from the more important elements of spiritual discipline.

In more recent years, I’ve said, “No,” to a lot of good things, but we have to say no to the good things so that we can say yes to the best things…or the more important things…or the more meaningful things.

And besides, as someone else said, “No for now is not no forever.” There may be a time when you can willingly fulfill a commitment that you can’t abide right now. You never know what door the Lord will open later on.

Lesson #7: I’m a lot braver than I give myself credit for.

Men are supposed to be courageous. Though I wanted to be Batman or Superman, I think I spent more of my life as Barney Fife.

May I say, though, that just the fact that I’m older is a testament to the fact that I’m braver than I ever gave myself credit for? Seriously, life is hard and to have made it this far proves that just living takes courage. I survived a car accident that, by mere inches, could have ended my life.

Hey, I survived raising children! That’s not for sissies either. They’re all productive, contributing members of society. I haven’t always been able to say that. Now I can say that, and I say it with humility and gratitude. Nope, I didn’t do it alone, and that’s another indication of courage. Vanessa and I have survived over 43 years of marriage.

Surviving life takes courage. That’s a reality. Just knowing that I can write this and you can read it is a testimony to the fact that we’re brave enough to get up every day and do life. The bravest thing a person can do is admit his limitations (mine are abundant). That’s why I’ve learned to trust Jesus for my salvation. He is the greatest source of our strength.

Conclusion

No, growing old isn’t for sissies. I have learned in all this that getting older isn’t about growing weaker, or more confused, or more limited. Growing older is about growing up and learning to understand what it means to be made in the image of God. That’s a lesson I’m still learning.

What about you? What lessons are you learning? Share them in the comments. I’d love to hear from you.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Pondering Tozer…

The recent fire in our home put the reading of A. W. Tozer as part of my devotional habit on hold for a few weeks. My books were in the living room that was filled with soot and ash, and it was three weeks before the books were cleaned.

Okay, it’s been over a month since the fire and my house still isn’t clean, but that’s another story I’ll save for another time. I need to get over my frustration with the cleaning company before I express my sentiments publicly. Mama always said, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything.” So, I’m not saying anything.

I picked up Tozer again this week, and there are several quotes that I have been ruminating over the last several days. I share them here. Perhaps the quotes will prompt you to ponder, as well. Please keep in mind that Tozer died in 1963. If it was bad in 1963, how bad must it be today?

These quotes are from The Pursuit of God:

Self-Sins

“To be specific, the self-sins are these: self-righteousness, self-pity, self-confidence, self-sufficiency, self-admiration, self-love and a host of others like them.”

Tozer identifies self-love as a sin. I get that, but at the same time, I wrestle with what Jesus said to the scribe in Mark 12: 31–“The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself‘.” Where is that line? I know it has much to do with being as forgiving of others as I am of myself. I know when I screw-up, I am very quick to extend grace to myself, and make several excellent excuses for what I’ve done. I should be so quick to do that for others. I know there’s more to it than that, but I still want to know, “How do I love myself without being guilty of the sin of self-love?”

Self Promotion

“Promoting self under the guise of promoting Christ is currently so common as to excite little notice.”

Oh, the things we do in the name of Christ that have nothing to do with Jesus! Jesus gets credit for a lot of things he would really rather have nothing to do with, and he gets the blame for many things that are absolutely not on him. I suspect it is (at least in my case) because we want to avoid responsibility and accountability for ourselves. I noticed that self-responsibility and self-accountability are not in Tozer’s list of the “self” sins.

Scribe or Pharisee

“Between the scribe who has read and the prophet who has seen there is a difference as wide as the sea. We are today overrun with orthodox scribes, but the prophets, where are they? The hard voice of the scribe sounds over evangelicalism, but the Church waits for the tender voice of the saint who has penetrated the veil and has gazed with inward eye upon the Wonder that is God. And yet, thus to penetrate, to push in sensitive living experience into the holy Presence, is a privilege open to every child of God.”

I am especially convicted by Tozer’s quote above because of one old seminary professor. That professor, after hearing one of my sermons, approached me and said, “Lynn, you have the gift of prophetic utterance. Use the gift wisely.” I fear I have not used it wisely, but rather have not used it at all. Unfortunately, I have fancied myself more the scribe (who has read) than the prophet (who has seen). Oh! To be one who has seen the Lord, high and lifted up, glorified and sitting on the Throne, instead of one who only knows what he has read of the glory of the Almighty.

Dying to Self

“Let us remember: when we talk of the rending of the veil we are speaking in a figure, and the thought of it is poetical, almost pleasant; but in actuality there is nothing pleasant about it. In human experience that veil is made of living spiritual tissue; it is composed of the sentient, quivering stuff of which our whole beings consist, and to touch it is to touch us where we feel pain. To tear it away is to injure us, to hurt us and make us bleed. To say otherwise is to make the cross no cross and death no death at all. It is never fun to die. To rip through the dear and tender stuff of which life is made can never be anything but deeply painful. Yet that is what the cross did to Jesus and it is what the cross would do to every man to set him free.”

Every disciple must die–he/she must die to self, and as Tozer says, “It is never fun to die.” The greater pain comes in knowing that I must die to self everyday, and everyday that death is no less painful. Perhaps that is why I avoid it so much. Didn’t Jesus say, “If anyone desires to be my disciple, they must take up their cross daily…?” I am reminded in these moments of the words of the great G. K. Chesterton: “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.”

I think that’s quite enough pondering for one day (probably enough for a week). I admit I long to read Tozer because I know he’ll light a fire under me, but then I read Tozer and the conviction often outweighs the anticipation with which I began.

Tozer. Always compelling. Always interesting. Always convicting. Always challenging. Always worth it. May I commend him to you?

Until next time, keep looking up…

On the Glory of God and AI…

So, this is Transfiguration Sunday, which in the Christian calendar, is the last Sunday before Ash Wednesday. It was serendipitous (providential?) that our Bible in a Year readings for the week included Mark’s account of Jesus’s transfiguration.

I thought it would make good sermon fodder (it being Transfiguration Sunday and all), though Luke’s Gospel is the Revised Common Lectionary‘s chosen text for 2025. I’m committed to preaching from one of the texts we read in a given week, so Mark’s account it is.

As part of my preparation, I always go back and leaf through my sermon files to see what I’ve preached before. I found a sermon from Luke’s Gospel that I preached in 2007 (see it here). I had three points in that message from 2007:

  • Jesus was unique in His person.
  • Jesus was unique in His mission, and
  • Jesus was unique in His message.

Why am I telling you this? Because of what I did later in my preparation. I went to ChatGPT and put this in the chat box: “Sermon on Mark 9: 2 – 10.” Do you know what ChatGPT returned? A three-point sermon. What were the three points? In order, they were:

  • A Revelation of Christ’s Identity,
  • A Confirmation of Christ’s Mission, and
  • A Call to Christ’s message.

It was, basically, my sermon from 2007 sans the illustrations. Needless to say, I was as speechless as Peter was on Mount Tabor that day. It made me think ChatGPT has been reading my mail! Then I thought, “Well, yeah, that’s exactly what Artificial Intelligence does!”

As I understand it, Artificial Intelligence is the simulation of human intelligence by computers. Admittedly, I don’t really understand it, but this much I know: AI is a machine, and a machine can only spit out what is put into it (I’m sure some computer geek out there will correct me), and someone, somewhere has somehow input all the information that’s ever been published online, so that when I put in “Sermon on Mark 9: 2 – 10,” it spit out a sermon very close to the sermon I wrote in 2007, and that countless other preachers have probably written, too over the centuries. Because that’s what AI does.

I’ll admit, AI is special. It is (and will be going forward) life-changing, maybe even earth-shattering. We might even call it a glorious discovery. AI is not, however, nearly as glorious as the discovery Peter, James and John made on the mountain with Jesus that day–that day they discovered God’s glory in human form.

Of this much I’m certain: Even if AI takes over the world (some say it will), it will never overcome the glory of God. One day, even AI will bend the knee (hypothetically speaking) to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Let AI take over the world, for His Kingdom is not of this world. This world and all its wisdom will one day pass away and its glory will be gone, but the glory revealed on Mount Tabor will shine for all eternity.

So, yes, I have a sermon for today, and yes, it is from Mark 9: 2 – 10, but no, it was not written by AI. If you want to hear it, you’ll have to come to Haughton Methodist Church at 10:30 a.m.

Until next time, keep looking up…