Get Ready, It's Happening!

We’re beginning a new series on the Gospel of Mark! Jesus’s first words function as a kind of statement of purpose: “The time has come, the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” But why does the gospel of God’s kingdom come begin with repentance? To answer this question, Erik used the illustration of what happened in German occupied Norway on the day Germany surrendered to the Allies: news reached Norway that day, but it would be weeks before allied forces could arrive and months until the occupying force could be disarmed and removed. The occupation wasn’t over, but the Norwegians immediately began living as though it was. Here is the lesson Erik drew:

What does repentance mean? It means: Get ready. It’s like when Norway was liberated from occupation. To be sure, there were feelings of guilt and shame for the ways that they had compromised with and participated in evil. There was absolutely a reckoning for all those who collaborated with the occupying force. And it even included a celebration! But more than that, it was casting off one way of life and getting ready for another way of life. And the most important thing is: they didn’t wait until the occupying forces were disarmed and removed. The announcement was so big it changed everything even before the thing announced was done. The gospel is like that: it is news so big it changes everything even before anything has changed. All Christian live is spent between the announcement of God’s kingdom and the arrival of God’s kingdom. But it’s not spent waiting, because repentance means change now; repentance means God’s coming kingdom now.

The Price of Redemption

We finished our study of Ruth with a moving meditation on redemption. David reminded us that the root meaning of “redeem” is to purchase. But when we read that Boaz “redeemed” Ruth, does that mean that he “purchased” her? Certainly not in the same way he purchased Naomi’s land. No, the price he paid was much more significant and points us to the way Christ redeems each of us at the cost of his own life:

Boaz might not pay to purchase Ruth. But he himself was the ransom. He gave up himself and his enterprise in order to save the name, the family, and the property of his dead brother. I believe this suggests the true meaning of “redemption.”

Closing the Circuit

God never intervenes in the book of Ruth the way we expect: no theophany, no miracle, no deus ex machina. To the extent the characters see him at work, it is only at a great distance: they are starving and grieving in Moab, but hear of others celebrating a plentiful harvest in Israel. Yet the book shows us that in fact God is at work all over, using the faithfulness of ordinary people to accomplish redemption. We see this in chapter three, when the components of God’s plan to save Naomi and Ruth begin to come together in one of the most astonishing marriage proposals in all literature. Erik described this using an analogy with an electrical circuit:

Redemption couldn’t happen if God wasn’t at work here, there, everywhere. It reminds me of an electrical circuit, where you have an energy source with two lines going out, one carrying positive charges and the other carrying negative charges. On their own, neither line does anything. But when those two lines connect and close the loop, those charges become an electrical current and that electricity becomes light and power. It’s similar with God’s providence in this story: only when what God is doing in Moab and what God is doing in Bethlehem meet—when the circuit is closed—can you finally see the flash of redemption!

A Life Open to Grace

Some people may think of God’s grace as primarily something we receive, but preaching on Ruth’s example in chapter 2, David preached on how we can only receive grace when we are willing to share what we receive. He called this “a life open to grace,” and used the metaphor of a river to explain what he meant:

Jesus says, “Freely you have received; freely give” (Matthew 10:8b), and “As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34b). God’s love flows like a river. God’s grace also flows like a river. Like a stagnant water becomes foul, “stagnant grace” is ugly and stinky.  If God’s grace does not flow to others, it overshadows God’s glory, and hinders God’s work. In order to open the gate of God’s grace, we should examine carefully “What I have given to others,” not “What I have received.”

Cling to What is Good

We’re beginning a new series on the book of Ruth! The story begins with Ruth’s decision to remain loyal to her mother-in-law Naomi after the death of her husband and in the midst of a famine. Readers are primed to celebrate this decision, but in her sermon, Deb had us pause and ask: Why did Ruth remain with Naomi rather than return to her own people? The answer teaches us what it means to be loyal not just to family, but to God:

I think there is another dimension to Ruth’s determination besides altruism. She knows that Naomi is good. She has experienced life with her as a faithful Israelite for a number of years and she has experienced the goodness of that life and of Naomi’s companionship. This goodness draws her to Naomi, and, in light of her experience, she is determined to go with what is good. It brings to mind the exhortation from Romans 12, verse 9, on how to live as God’s people: “Hate what is evil. Cling to what is good.” Ruth is choosing to make her home with good people in an uncertain environment rather than uncertain people in a comfortable environment. Ruth chose not to go back, but to go forward, even though the future with Naomi was far from certain. And she throws her lot in with Naomi completely: Your people will be my people and your God will be my God.

How to love "in" Christ

We just finished our study of 1 Corinthians! It’s tempting to skip the last chapter, where Paul seems most concerned about apostolic logistics (who can be where, when they can be there). But his picture of the unity of the first Christian churches and preachers brings the letter back full circle, offering an alternative to the divisions he bemoaned in chapter 1. He not only calls the church to love one another “in” Christ, but models that love with his own writing. But how does one love “in Christ,” and how does it help us love those who we don’t really get along with out of Christ? Here is part of Erik’s answer:

For Paul, love is service of people Jesus chose, not you. I think this what Paul means in his very last line: “My love to all of you in Christ Jesus.” That loving in Christ can be a little confusing, but prepositions are incredibly important in Christian theology! “In Christ” is the only reason Paul is even in relationship with the Corinthians: Jesus chose them. And “in Christ” is the only reason Paul needs to give himself in service: Jesus chose them. To love in Christ is to serve those Christ chose because Christ chose them. You don’t need more than that, which is good, because often you won’t get more than that.

Ping Pong is a Matter of Life and Death

Paul begins 1 Corinthians with the cross and ends with the resurrection. This isn’t just a clever literary construction: the Apostle believes that all the Corinthians’ many problems sprang from the fact that they didn’t really grasp the full meaning of Christ’s resurrection. Preaching on the first half of chapter 15, Erik pointed out the paradox of the resurrection: the fact that God’s answer to death is resurrection pushes us to celebrate the goodness of life and to hold onto life loosely. In other words, resurrection is a matter of life, death, and everything in between. He introduced this idea with the exemplary life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

If you know one thing about Dietrich Bonhoeffer, it’s this: he was a martyr. Bonhoeffer was a German theologian who was executed for his role in a plot against Adolf Hitler. But did you know that he was great at ping pong? He set up a table at the underground seminary he led and dominated younger students. Or that he had an ear for music? He loved playing Chopin and collected records of Black spirituals. Or that he enjoyed poetry, wine, and food? Bonhoeffer loved life, he found life overflowing with joy, pleasure, and meaning. He wrote: “Only the person who loves the earth and God in one can believe in the kingdom of God.” He wasn’t a famous ping pong player, pianist, or chef. He was a famous martyr. But it raises a question that every follower of Jesus must answer: How was someone who loved life so much, so willing to lose his life?

The secret of loving life is being unafraid to lose it. And the key that unlocks this secret is the hope in the resurrection of the dead.

The Most Beautiful Music Needs Silence

Worship in the church of Corinth was devolving into chaos! Preaching on Paul’s instruction about tongues and prophesying, Deb pointed out the way that silence is essential to the way orchestras make beautiful music: only rarely do all the instruments play at the same time. This order isn’t about silencing some instruments, but rather a way of enabling a whole company of diverse sounds to play harmoniously together. It’s the same in a church:

Like the musicians in an orchestra, sometimes we need to remain quiet and let someone else carry the melody. That was the case with tongues-speakers, long-winded prophets, and disruptive women in Corinth. This was Paul’s advice to a first-century church that was trying to figure out how to shape their corporate life, how to be the body of Christ together in a way that unites believers, strengthens their faith, and welcomes curious visitors. To remain in tune, believers should be concerned not just with exercising their own gifts, but using those gifts with the goal of building up the overall spiritual health of the body of believers. 

God is Patient, God is Kind...

There is a good chance that you’ve heard 1 Corinthians 13 at a wedding: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud…” Lovely words! But read the verse more closely, and you might feel like the passage is as much a rebuke as it is an inspiration. Without love, even our most impressive achievements are nothing; without love, we are nothing. Preaching on this passage, David reminded us that scripture teaches that God is love, and thus we can find comfort in knowing that first and foremost, these words describe God:

when we read this passage, we should think of God, not of me. The love described in this chapter tells us “How God loves me.” So, we can read, “God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. God is not rude, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs.” This is how God loves us.

The Lord's Table is Level

ICC celebrates communion on the first Sunday of every month (always followed by a potluck - everyone is welcome!). Regular rhythms like this structure our spiritual lives, but we must always ask ourselves: What kind of structure are they building? This is why Paul admonishes the Corinthians to “examine yourselves” before celebrating the meal together. Crucially, he is not speaking to them as individuals, but as a community. To help ICC follow Paul’s direction of examining the kind of community the Lord’s Table is building, Erik posed these two questions:

First, do those who come to ICC with a lot leave with less, because here they found a place they can share what they have? Second, Do those who come to ICC with a little leave with more, because they found a place to receive what they need?

It is all too easy to be another place where those who come filled leave drunk and those who come thirsty leave hungry. But the Lord’s Supper—like any good potluck—is meant to be a place where those with a lot leave with less so that those with a little leave with more.

Gospel Freedom

As we come to the end of Paul’s thoughts on Christian freedom in 1 Corinthians 9, David reminded us of a fundamental point: the kind of freedom God promises flows directly out of the gospel of God’s love for us. Here is part of his conclusion:

The gospel is not God’s commandment. The gospel is not what God orders us to do. The gospel is what God promises to do for us. The gospel is a package of God’s grace through which all the blessings are flowing into our souls, and nothing is missing. The gospel redeems our sins and fills us with the Holy Spirit. The gospel cleanses our conscience and enables us to serve the living God. The gospel sets us free from all the bondages and lifts us to be God’s children. The gospel gives us firm righteousness that protects us from all kinds of accusations. The gospel wakes up our hearts to the love of God until our hearts burst with thanks and praises. The gospel gives us desire to remain in God’s love and rejoice in it. The gospel gives us power to love our neighbor like God loves us in Christ. The gospel paves the way to truth and life before us, and gives us the strength to walk the way in peace and joy and confidence. The gospel leads us to all the glorious promises that God made through Jesus Christ.

Body Language

The issue of eating meat sacrificed to idols seems far removed from the issues that face Jesus’s followers today, but nothing could be further from the truth! Preaching on 1 Corinthians 8, Deb asked us to consider “body language”: the message that our actions communicate. She ended with this stirring challenge:

Jesus says the church is his temple, his body, the place where his Spirit resides. We are the body of Christ, so let’s make our body language the language of love.

From Selfish to Sanctified

In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul commends singleness as the possibility of undivided devotion to God but offers marriage only with the caveat that it necessary means divided devotion. Some might bristle at this unsentimental view of family life, but Erik used the story of the nineteenth-century American theologian B.B. Warfield to show how marriage sanctifies selfish desires by turning them towards others:

Warfield was certain he was called by God to support the global church as a traveling speaker. But his wife Annie wasn’t. In fact, her whole body seemed to say no: she had a physical collapse while traveling and she never recovered. So, Warfield gave up what he believed his calling to be and they moved to Princeton, New Jersey, where he spent the rest of the writing, teaching, and caring for Annie. He did not have authority over his own body, but yielded to her. She did not have authority over her own body, but yielded to him. Neither was free to care only about pleasing themselves. Neither was free to care only about pleasing God. Paul tells us, marriage means mutual agreement, but mutual agreement means divided devotion.

 Yet that marriage sanctified Warfield: he became the sort of person who would give up his ambitions and love another as himself. Supposedly Benjamin never left Anne’s side for more than a couple hours. He would do his work in her presence, reading aloud from his research or writing. I’m not sure the dry theology of Victorian Presbyterianism was good for her health, but they both cherished the companionship. It’s incredible to think that at the root of that devotion is the same desire that inspires pop songs and compels people to get on dating apps. But that romantic desire was sanctified, made holy, by marriage. Sex begins as a selfish desire that makes us into its servants, but in marriage it is sanctified into a desire that directs us away from ourselves and into servants of others.

Bodies, Washed and Sanctified

Paul told the Christians in Corinth “honor God with your body.” He believed this command followed inescapably from the fact the salvation found in Christ was the resurrection of the body, his and ours. What then do sin and sanctification mean if salvation is for the body? David offered the image the barnacles on a whale to help us understand:

1Corinthians 6:11 says, “You were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. Like removing barnacles from a whale’s body, when I raise the name of Christ high as my Lord, the Holy Spirit comes down upon my body and He washes and removes all the stubborn attachments, which are on my body and behave as if they are part of my body. Then, the Spirit never leaves the body, and becomes a spring of living water in me welling up to eternal life (John 4:14).

God Above, Christ Below, Spirit Within

In chapter three of his letter to the Corinthians, Paul gets theological about the church. He deploys a set of powerful images to capture the way God works with his people: a field, a building, and temple. And connecting these images is nothing short of the Trinity itself:

When we confess that God is love, we aren’t just saying that God is loving. We’re acknowledging that God is constituted by the love of those three persons for each other: That cooperating, overflowing love within God is why he creates, why he saves, and why he’s building a church. Look at the three images Paul gives. First, a field with God above, like the sun and rain that account for all life and growth. Second, a building with Jesus Christ as the foundation, the solid base upon which everything else stands. And finally, a special building, the temple, in which the Holy Spirit makes a home. God above, Christ below, the Spirit within. hat’s not just true of the church, but this church, with all its flaws. The church in Corinth was so preoccupied with petty loyalties and rivalries that they didn’t even notice that they were surrounded the way only a three person God can!

Wisdom of Death and Life

As we continued studying Paul’s provocative teaching about the foolishness of the cross and true wisdom in 1 Corinthians chapter 2, David pointed out the way worldly wisdom presumes death and thus is incapable of offering life:

Steve Jobs said, “Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.” He is talking about “wisdom.” And his wisdom is founded on the fact, “I’ll be dead soon.” His wisdom may be a good guideline in “making a big choice in life.” But his wisdom is actually his darkness. He always remembers the fact “I will be dead soon.” So, even the best choice will end in vain and he will harvest futility. In this sense, we can say that there is no wisdom in the world. Although we all work hard for better life, it’s a struggle in darkness, and at the end we find ourselves with empty hands.

Making Fools

What does the Apostle Paul have against wisdom? In 1 Corinthians, he writes that the cross of Christ is foolishness, and quoting Isaiah, declares that it will “destroy the wisdom of the wise.” Erik preached on the way that Paul sees the cross of Christ creating a new world, reducing the wisdom of the old world to nothing.

Listen to how Paul’s language shifts to destruction and creation: he’s reducing the things that are to nothing, in order to make something new out the “the things that are not,” the nothings and the nobodies. The cross is the blueprint for the new world God is making, and that new world begins in church.

Division and Completion

The opening verses of 1 Corinthians describe a community descending into destructive divisions. Paul, however, offers an alternative. If the community is centered in Christ, their differences can make the community complete rather than dividing it. To illustrate this point, Deb shared the following story in Sunday’s sermon:

When I was in college, I worked for one summer as a camp counselor at an overnight Christian camp. I brought my guitar with me to play at campfire sing-alongs. There was another staff member named Jean who also played guitar, and she was much better at it than I was. The thought of being compared to Jean made me reluctant to put myself out there and play. But the thought came to me: Even if I can’t play as well as Jean, at least one more group of campers will have a guitar to sing along with around their campfire than if I let my comparative lack of skill discourage me from playing. If we all give whatever it is we have to give, the community will be made more complete. 

Death is the Seed of Life

Happy Easter from ICC! When God raised Jesus from the dead, he transformed the meaning of death for all of us who would follow. In his Easter sermon, David drew on Paul’s instight that there can be no resurrection without the crucifixion, no new life without death:

Paul said, “We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body” (2 Corinthians 4:10-11). St. Paul didn’t say, “We carry the resurrection of Jesus.” He said, “We carry the death of Jesus.” And he did so, expecting that “the life of Jesus body may also be revealed in our body.” Paul found that death is the seed of resurrection and life.

It is Finished

Christians reenact the Passion Narrative every year. We know that Christ’s crucifixion is not the end of the story. Yet as much as we might long to turn the page, this event has such gravity—the Son of God dying on a cross—that it cannot help but pull as backward to itself. The Gospel of John reminds of this with Jesus’s final statement, “It is finished.” Preaching on this passage, Erik contrasted what the powers who collaborated to kill Jesus might have thought these words meant with what Jesus himself was confessing:

The Romans intended crucifixion to finish people. They used this method of execution to end storylines they didn’t like. There is a paradox about crucifixions: they were meant for everyone to witness, but no one to talk about. The victim was lifted high so that everyone could see, but what they saw was revolting: a naked, bloody body, suffocating in agony. You couldn’t speak about this without ruining conversations, turning stomachs, breaking the rules of polite society. If you witnessed a crucifixion, you’d never forget it. But you might never talk about it. That is why despite thousands of crucifixions, there is so little written about them. The point was public silence: Rome wanted to utterly discredit and humiliate the victim. The empire declares: “This person, their life, their cause is finished.” “It is finished” is exactly what Rome wanted to hear, and with it all the powers of sin, death, and evil. They wanted such an admission of defeat.

Yet when Jesus proclaimed “it is finished” wasn’t an admission of defeat, it was a confession of faith. He knew his faithfulness to God meant death, but he also that God’s faithfulness to him meant life.