Just Trying to Make a Point…

Last Sunday was Easter Sunday. I thought I had a pretty good sermon. I had three points (which some folks argue is two too many!), and I thought I was well prepared to make all three points. I was wrong. I did a terrible job making my third point (judge for yourself by clicking here), so I figured I’d use this space to make the point I wanted to make Sunday.

I should have known it was not going to be a good day for preaching when I mysteriously turned a six foot white rabbit into a six foot white monkey in my opening illustration. It was pretty much down hill from there. Oh, the rabbit that mysteriously became a monkey was the pooka from the movie Harvey, starring Jimmy Stewart as Elwood P. Dowd. The premise of the sermon was a play off one line in the film–“the evening wore on” (See the clip here). Mark in his gospel uses a turn of phrase that is (to me) equally compelling–“just at sunrise” (Mark 16: 1-8).

The point? The sunrise (the resurrection) overcomes the darkness…of sin with the promise of forgiveness, of death with the promise of our resurrection, and of fear with the promise of eternal life. It was the last point where I failed to make my point (not counting the whole rabbit/monkey affair).

Here is what I said:

As the evening wore on, the darkness of death would also shadow the promise of eternal life, but just at sunrise the joy comes. The 24-hour news cycle is killing us. We hear the news, see the Facebook feeds and watch in amazement as the culture continues its steep decline. The evening appears to go on endlessly. We long for the sunrise. We wonder when will the night be over.

Are you looking for a sunrise? Turn off CNN and Fox News. Take a break from scrolling your Facebook feed, and pick up a bible. Open its pages and pray. There you’ll meet the risen Jesus, and you’ll experience the sunrise, and you’ll know a hope that never disappoints.

James Moore tells the story when The Saturday Evening Post ran a cartoon showing a man about to be rescued after he had spent a long time ship-wrecked on a tiny deserted island. The sailor in charge of the rescue team stepped onto the beach and handed the man a stack of newspapers.

“Compliments of the Captain,” the sailor said. “He would like you to glance at the headlines to see if you’d still like to be rescued!”     

Sometimes the headlines do scare us. There are times we feel evil is winning, but then along comes Easter, to remind us that there is no grave deep enough, no seal imposing enough, no stone heavy enough, no evil strong enough to keep Christ in the grave. God keeps his promises. We can’t always see it until the sunrise.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad point, but the point I really wanted to make is that the darkness of fear has overshadowed our deep theology surrounding death itself. If nothing else, the past year has shown that the church’s theology of death doesn’t extend much past the point of dying. I do have to be careful how I say this. It could too easily be politicized, and that is not my intention, at all.

It’s just that I’ve watched with some amazement over the past year as many “followers of Christ” acted as though death was absolutely the worst thing that could happen. Death, for a believer, is not the end. This life…this earthly life…isn’t all there is. The resurrection (Easter) is our reminder of the promise of eternal life.

We say in the Apostle’s Creed that we believe “…in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.” The doctrine of eternal life is historic, orthodox Christian theology. Because of Easter we do not face death with fear, but with peace and with an assurance that Christ waits for us just beyond the veil that separates this life from the next one. Or, so the Apostle Paul taught the Corinthian church that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8).

It was also the Apostle Paul who shared his own inner conflict with the church at Philippi:

20 For I fully expect and hope that I will never be ashamed, but that I will continue to be bold for Christ, as I have been in the past. And I trust that my life will bring honor to Christ, whether I live or die. 21 For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better. 22 But if I live, I can do more fruitful work for Christ. So I really don’t know which is better. 23 I’m torn between two desires: I long to go and be with Christ, which would be far better for me. 24 But for your sakes, it is better that I continue to live.

25 Knowing this, I am convinced that I will remain alive so I can continue to help all of you grow and experience the joy of your faith. 

Philippians 1: 20 – 25

Yes, I know that “eternal life” is more quality of life than quantity of life. I know eternal life is living a Christ-centered life now, but even acknowledging that fact should never diminish our understanding of the glory we shall one day share with Jesus Christ, Himself.

Embracing a broader theology of death doesn’t compel us to seek to become martyrs, nor does it cause us to take foolish chances with the gift that is this life, but it should free us from cowering in fear of death’s approach. The reality is that the death rate is 100%. If we live long enough everyone of us will die. And, we all know there are times when death does, in fact, come as a friend. The question becomes will we face death with confidence, hope and faith, or will we do so in the darkness of fear?

If we live long enough everyone of us will die.

Me? I’m going to chose to live in the confident expectation of eternal life because “just at sunrise,” hope dawned. Yes, I’m going to live today for Jesus. I’m going to love Him, and I’m going to love my neighbor, and by God’s grace, I’m going to love my enemy. I’m not going to hasten death (at least not intentionally), but I’m not going to live in fear of it, either.

It was April Fool’s Day 2007 and Vanessa and I had just dropped our daughters off for youth group at the church. We decided we needed our favorite indulgence, so we headed to the local Dairy Queen for a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Blizzard. We had made our turn onto the Main Street of our town and as we slowed to turn into the parking lot of the Dairy Queen, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a car quickly approaching. I shouted to Vanessa, “Hold on, they’re going to hit us!”

Hit us, they did. I’m told by folks who witnessed the event that my truck flipped four times into the parking lot of the Dairy Queen. Thankfully, Vanessa and I escaped relatively unscathed with the exception of a few scrapes and bruises, but I told Vanessa later that as we were making those flips the only thought I had was, “Death ain’t no big deal.” I’ve since thought, “That’s the most expensive ice cream I never had!”

I share that story not arrogantly, but confidently…confident in the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ in whom I believe. That’s the point I was trying to make. I’ll not say it’s the whole point of Easter, but it is certainly one of the main points of it. And, it’s not to say that death is not a big deal. It is a big deal, but for the believer, it’s not the only deal, nor is it necessarily the worst deal.

I’m still not sure why I didn’t make the point better on Sunday. Maybe it was the rabbit that threw me off my game…or the monkey. Hopefully, I’ve made the point better here, but if not, there’s always next Easter.

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Cost of Crisis…

Working from home (mostly) has given me much too much time to think, and I’ve been thinking about the depth of what’s been called the COVID-19 pandemic. It is a public health crisis, yes, but it has the potential of becoming so much more. Here are just a few of my thoughts:

Financial

It has the potential of becoming a financial crisis. We’re obviously in a financial slowdown as a result of COVID-19, but should the “stay-at-home” orders last much longer, we run the risk of creating a full-blown financial meltdown of the US and subsequently the world economy. Entire industries will be gone, and the recovery may last as long (if not longer) as the Great Depression. What’s more, the financial crisis will lead to more health issues, thus exacerbating the public health crisis. This is preventable!

Mental Health

It has the potential of becoming a mental health crisis. Fear has driven much of the panic surrounding COVID-19. Fear of death, first of all. We Christians, of all people, should have a better theology of death because many Christians have led the fear parade. Way back on March 23rd, R. R. Reno of First Things wrote a piece reminding us that we are not to fear death (we don’t desire to hasten it, but neither should we fear it). Never in my life have I seen so many followers of Christ shouting down other followers of Christ in such a public way–rooted (I believe) in two things–fear and self-righteousness. We are not being very good examples of Christ to a world that is hurting and searching for answers to tough questions. This, too is preventable!

The longer people are quarantined the more susceptible we become to loneliness and depression. As Genesis teaches, it is not good for people to be alone. We are created for community. For a society that was already struggling with depression, we don’t need any help to make it worse. Not to mention, and this is only somewhat related to mental health issues, but there is the increase in substance abuse and domestic violence.

I have a deep concern (and I pray daily) for those who struggle with substance abuse. The necessity of working a 12-Step program, of attending meetings and staying connected to accountability measures, is taken away in this time. Virtual meetings are no substitute to physically going to a meeting and encountering others on the journey face-to-face. I wonder if anyone has “modeled” the financial cost to our health care system (not to mention families) when many addicts relapse because they were forced into isolation? 

Culture

This shut-down has the potential to become a cultural crisis. This may, in fact, be the final nail in the Judeo-Christian western cultural coffin. There will be many who will not be bothered by that, but I am not one of them. The very foundation of the American experiment lies in the Judeo-Christian worldview. This pandemic forces us to the precipice of rejecting the very values that underlie our nation. We are, in the name of sacrifice, rejecting the true nature of sacrifice. Don’t tell the countless millions who have sacrificed their very lives that self-preservation is the essence of our existence.

Part of the cultural crisis is that faced by churches and houses of worship during this pandemic. They will never be the same, and the influence they once enjoyed in the culture will continue to diminish. There is some good that can come out of that. First, the church has been forced to re-tool. Second, the church has been forced to reassess its understanding of discipleship and evangelism. Third, the church has been forced to reflect upon its history and ask itself the question: “Is what we are what we were meant to be?” Already, some positive signs are emerging (which is hopeful), but I suspect that the landscape, both urban, suburban and rural will be dotted with empty, deteriorating buildings left by congregations unable to survive the financial impact of COVID-19. It doesn’t have to be so.

Constitutional

There is the potential that this becomes a constitutional crisis. This potential goes hand-in-hand with the cultural crisis mentioned above. I am still amazed by how quickly we, the people, surrendered our freedom to an over-reaching government.

The very fabric of our nation changed in the blink of an eye. The constitutional protections we have long enjoyed, which have been eroding for several generations, were, in one fell swoop, washed away, and I fear (there’s that word) we will never be able to reclaim them. Our freedom of assembly? Gone. The government said we shouldn’t gather in groups of 100 or more, then it was 50 or more, then it was 10 or more…then, it was stay at home. Yes, it was for a very noble cause–the health of “others.” Don’t do it for yourself. Do it for others. Noble, indeed.

There’s a fork in the road ahead when we will have to ask what’s more important, the survival of the other, or the survival of the whole? Stanford University School of Medicine professor John Ioannidis offers an interesting perspective on the subject that bears hearing. Which will we choose? Fear should not compel us to choose wrongly, but we’ll be aided by those who deeply desire to change the heart of who we are as Americans.

Political

All these measures were done without the U. S. Congress’ approval. Entire states and local communities were shuttered without a single legislative vote of any legislature or city council. Not one duly elected representative body gave assent to these measures. Actually, the legislators all went home, thus abandoning their responsibility to represent “We the people.” We, the people, are left to be led by executive mandate, whether federal, state or local. I’m sorry, but that sounds a lot like dictatorship or monarchy. If we’re not careful, and if those legislators who are the elected representatives of the people do not step up and begin to question what is happening, then this public health crisis will become a political crisis. No, what it may become is a revolutionary moment. 

Some may call me an alarmist (and I may be), but when I sit around too much, these are the things I think about. I suppose I should quit sitting around so much! I think I’ll go check my tomatoes in the garden (it’s a good thing I don’t live in Michigan!). That should take my mind off of the cost this crisis will ultimately have on all of us.

Even so,

Until next time, keep looking up…