Five Things a Christian Should Never Say: 

"I Am Forsaken "                             Isaiah 62:1-5

A Sermon by Pastor Boettner

Second Sunday after Epiphany

January 18, 2004

Leonia United Methodist Church, NJ

In the Name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer

          We are beginning a series of messages on “Five Things Christians Should Never Say.” Everyone probably has their own list. Somebody saw the title of this series and thought I was going to talk about “cussing.” That’s not it, though that would make an interesting sermon.

          Or maybe you thought we would deal with racist language or sexist language. We’re not going to be talking about these either, though a message on either of these would certainly be appropriate, in light of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

          There are other phrases, however, that should never pass through the lips of followers of Christ, though they often do. The first one even slipped from the lips of our Lord. Still, it would be better if we could eliminate it from our vocabulary. The phrase is, “I am forsaken.”

          In 1957, Henry Ford bragged about producing the car of the decade. That car turned out to be the Edsel. How bad was the Edsel? There is only one recorded case of an Edsel ever being stolen. That probably sums up this car’s popularity.

          The wisest people are those who learn to handle life’s difficult moments. Setbacks. Failures. Embarrassments. Humiliation.           Heartaches happen. Sorrows happen. Life throws us difficult pitches. And every once in a while a real tragedy occurs! They happen to us all.

          On the wall of the museum at Dachau is a large, touching photograph of a mother and her little girl standing in the line to enter a gas chamber. The child, who is walking in front of her mother, doesn’t know where she is going or what is about to happen. The mother, walking behind her daughter, does know, but is helpless to stop the tragedy. In her helplessness the mother performs the only act of love left to her. She puts her hands over her child’s eyes so at least she will not see the horror to come.

          This can be a cruel world. Cruel to us, cruel to those we love. Like that mother, we all would like to shield both ourselves and our children from the horrors of life, but sooner or later we find ourselves face-to-face with life’s harsh realities--death, loss, rejection, failure, grief. That is why these words from God through the prophet Isaiah bring us comfort and hope:

          “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch. The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory; and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give. You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her . . .”

          Isaiah is speaking to the people of Israel. This was a difficult time in their history and the people felt forsaken. They had been buffeted by their enemies. They had lived in exile. Only a remnant remained from the days of their former greatness. And yet, Isaiah assures them, God has not forsaken them. Do not lose hope, he is saying to them. The final results are not in. God will not rest until God’s people are vindicated.

          While these were words spoken to a particular people at a particular point in history, they still apply to God’s people today. If we feel forsaken today, hear this word of comfort and assurance. God has not abandoned us. God’s hand still sustains us. God will not let us fall.

          When we feel really down, three things often happen to us: First of all, we generalize. We see one thing going wrong and we generalize that our whole world is out of whack. Maybe only 10 percent of our life is really in the pits, but we have a tendency to focus on that 10 percent and forget that the other 90 percent is pretty good.

          Let’s say, our business is in trouble. Sales are down. The specter of bankruptcy rears its ugly head. We don’t want to minimize how devastating that can be. Yet we still have our health. We still have the love of our family. We live in a land where bankruptcies are forgiven and people can start over. Don’t let the 10 percent that’s bad overwhelm the 90 percent that’s good. We generalize. We assume that because one area of our life is crumbling, all our life is in trouble.

          The second faulty assumption we make is that our problems are permanent. That’s how it feels, anyway. Our lives are over. We shall never know happiness again.

          Remember an ancient legend that was told about King Solomon. Solomon wanted to humble his most trusted advisor. He said to this advisor, “There is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. It has magic powers,” said Solomon. “If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.” Solomon knew that no such ring existed in the world, but he wished to give his advisor a little taste of humility.

          Months went by and yet the advisor had no idea where he could find such a ring. One day he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day’s wares. “Have you by any chance heard of a magic ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?” asked the advisor.

          The old man took a plain gold ring from his carpet and engraved something on it. When the advisor read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.

          That night the advisor presented the ring to King Solomon. As soon as Solomon read the inscription, he knew his advisor had bested him. The inscription consisted of these words, “This too shall pass.”

          “This too shall pass,” says the wise person. Nothing is permanent, whether it is pain or joy. There are people--even young people, teenagers--who have a setback in their lives and they become so distraught that they resort to taking their own lives. If they had just waited--if a friend had just gotten to them in time--they would have discovered that most problems are temporary.

          Friends, nothing in this world is permanent. Everything disappears sooner or later. Again, I am not minimizing the pain we may be in. Life can be very cruel and our emotional pain can be very intense. However, if given time, most of our hurts do heal.

          Many of us think to ourselves, if anything were to happen to my children, I could not cope. But this is a cruel world. People do lose their children--thousands of people every day all over the world lose their children--the greatest pain a parent can experience. Some know what it is like to lose a child. And yet somehow, by the grace of God, these folks do go on. And though things are never the same again, over time, healing does take place. A measure of happiness does return.

          The third faulty assumption we make, of course, is that we are alone. Nothing could be more normal than to feel that God has forsaken us. Even Jesus, hanging on the cross cried out, “My God, why have you forsaken me?” If we have never asked that question, just wait. Most of us do sooner or later. But Jesus knew God had not forsaken him. His was a cry of ultimate pain. The sins of the world were on his back. His cry was that of reaching the absolute depths of hell. For that moment, at least, perhaps, he was forsaken. But not for long!

          There may be a time when we feel that we have plumbed the depths of hell. We, too, may feel forsaken. But deep in our heart, we know that even though we cannot feel God’s presence at that moment, we are not alone.

          Partway through her pregnancy, Susan Williamson learned that their baby girl had spina bifida, a spinal disorder that can result in brain and kidney damage and difficulty walking. Already, the developing baby was starting to manifest brain abnormalities. Susan and her husband, Jason, traveled to Vanderbilt University Medical Center, where doctors were performing a risky new surgery in the womb on developing babies with spina bifida. The surgery could reverse some of the effects of spina bifida or it could result in worse consequences for the child.

          Before the surgeons would perform the operation, they screened the parents for their physical and emotional fitness to face the possible consequences of the surgery. The Williamsons had to undergo an interview with the university’s ethicists. Among the questions the ethicists asked were these, “Do you believe in God?” and “What kind of benevolent God would do this to you?”

          That second one is a heavy question: “What kind of benevolent God would do this to you?” Have we ever asked ourselves that question? How would we answer it?

          Fortunately, the surgery at Vanderbilt was a success. Ten weeks later, Anna Williamson was born. Other than a club foot, she appears to be healthy and growing normally. It might not have worked out like that. Some mighty fine Christian people through the ages have had heavy loads to carry. Still, Susan and Jason Williamson, if they hung in there, would have discovered that through it all, they were not alone.

          Scottish preacher James Stewart once described our lives like this: “It is when you have sunk right down to rock bottom that you suddenly find you have struck the Rock of Ages.” “You shall no more be termed Forsaken,” writes the prophet Isaiah, “and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her . . .”

          Don’t focus on the little that is going wrong and forget the much that is right. Remember these four important words, “This too shall pass.” And remember the words of the prophet. You are not forsaken.

 S H A L O M

"I Can Make It By Myself"      I Corinthians 12:12-31a  

A Sermon by Pastor Boettner

Third Sunday after Epiphany

January 25, 2004

Leonia United Methodist Church

In the Name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer

          Margo Ballantyne was shopping at a store in Scotland when it seemed that the whole world suddenly stopped. As Margo sorted through stacks of scarves, the other shoppers in the store suddenly froze in place. All conversation ceased. Sales clerks refused to make eye contact with Margo or answer her questions. What would we think if we were in Margo’s situation? She assumed that she was unwelcome in the store, that she was out of place. But then, Margo remembered that on this particular day, November 11th, all the citizens of the United Kingdom paused at noon for a moment of silence in honor of Armistice Day. After one minute of silence, the shoppers and clerks came back to life and activity resumed as usual.

          Has anything like that ever happened to us--when we felt like we were “out of the loop?” Like we were out of sync with everyone around us? What a lonely feeling.

          St. Paul is writing to the church at Corinth--a church torn with dissension--a church in which some of the believers feel superior to other believers. And he is telling them that all of them are important to the work of God. He compares the body of Christ to body parts. It is a wonderful analogy. St. Paul writes:

          If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose.

          What a beautiful way to say that all of us are important to the work of the realm of God. All of us belong. And that’s good to know. We need one another.

          A newspaper carried the following help-wanted ad: “Need co-author for a book on self-reliance.”

          Say, what? A co-author for a book on self-reliance? Doesn’t that contradiction describe us well? We are the most individualistic people on earth. We celebrate the loner and the non-conformist. But in our pursuit of self-reliance, we have ignored our need for belonging. We were made to be incomplete on our own. That was part of God’s design for humanity. God made us with a profound need for communion with God and with other people. The songwriter of the 60s said, “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world . . .” He should have said, “People who admit they need people are the luckiest people in the world . . .” Nobody can make it in this world by themselves. Find a person who tries to live as a hermit and we will find someone who is emotionally as well as socially stunted.

          Many of us have neglected our needs--for communication, for intimacy, for fellowship. So we wonder why we feel so empty, why our friendships never seem to go below the surface. Who do we call at two A.M. when we can’t quiet our mind, and we need to talk with someone? Why are we afraid to need one another?

          Our need for community is not a weakness; it is a strength. In fact, it is the basis of the Church. St. Paul describes the perfect Church as a body, something that is only strong and healthy if all the parts are closely connected and moving in the same direction. The strongest muscle or toughest bone, when separated from the rest of the body, becomes weak and useless. This is one reason God created the Church: we draw strength from one another.

          On July 24, 2002, nine miners in western Pennsylvania became trapped 240 feet below ground in a flooded mine shaft. Rescue efforts began immediately, but the rescue crews knew the odds were against saving all the men. Amazingly, however, all nine miners survived the ordeal. These men claim that it was their decision to bond together that saved their lives. From the outset of the danger, the men watched out for one another. They tied themselves together, so that no one could float away or slip under the water. If one man got tired, his bond to the other men kept him afloat. The miners vowed that whether they lived or died, they would do so together.

          The members of the Church keep each other “afloat” by using their gifts to help one another. God gave each of us unique and multifaceted gifts so that together we could create a dynamic, interdependent, effective community. Where one member is weak, another member is strong. We all have something to offer, and this keeps us humble. We need each other. All of us have our individual gifts, and each of us has his or her place. None of us is any more important than anyone else.

          In the body of Christ, everyone is important. Even the seemingly insignificant participants are urgently needed. As the Apostle Paul reminds us:

          “The head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’ On the contrary, those parts of the body which seem to be weaker are indispensable . . . If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (I Cor. 12:21-22, 26).

          A Church is distinguished from every other team, organization, or social club in that it is bound together by a spirit of unity and community. All members are necessary; all members have something to contribute to the health of the Church. God created the Church because we need one another.

          But there is another reason God created the Church. It is so we can work together for God’s glory. Do we ever get a sinking feeling when we watch the evening news? Another suicide bombing in Israel. Civil war in parts of Africa. Death squads in Brazil. The growing drug trade in the U.S. What a conflict there is between the Eden God created and the world as we know it! We don’t have to look farther than our own neighborhood to see the results of sin, self-centeredness and destruction. Where do we start if we want to make a difference? There are so many needs, so much brokenness, and we are just individual people. It’s enough to overwhelm even the most gung-ho among us.

          But God made the Church to answer that need. The body of Christ was created and set apart to do the work that Christ did in the world. To go where his feet went, to the lost and poor and hurting of the world. To teach as Jesus taught, about love for God and love for our fellow human. To see as Jesus saw, finding beauty and redemption and grace in a prostitute, a leper, a tax collector. To touch as Jesus touched, with gentleness and love and healing power. God didn’t call on a smattering of Lone Rangers to save the world. Don’t look for Superman to come to save the day. Instead, God called together a whole bunch of Clark Kents and Lois Lanes--ordinary, humble, average folks to preach and teach and heal and restore; to tear down and build up and redeem a broken creation. And the only way we are ever going to accomplish that task is to rely on God’s Spirit and one another’s talents to make a difference in the world.

          “But in fact,” writes St. Paul, “God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.” What keeps us from being just another random group of strangers? What keeps us from being another social club? It is our equality, our unity, and our charity through the Holy Spirit that marks us as the Church, as the Body of Christ. It is the fact that God brought us together and arranged us, just as God wanted us to be, with a purpose and a plan in mind. We are God’s agents of grace in the world. Let us stop looking at our own weaknesses and instead look at the God-given strengths that we as a community bring to our task.

          Our church needs us. God called us here for a reason. May we have the confidence to join with others and offer ourselves freely for God’s service, so that God may use us to make a difference in the world.

 S H A L O M  

“Five Things Christians Should Never Say,” 

         "I AM ONLY . . ."                     Jeremiah 1:4-10

A Sermon by Pastor Boettner

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

February 1, 2004

Leonia United Methodist Church

In the Name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer

          Welcome on this Super Bowl Sunday. Football is a wonderful sport.

          The best tackle I’ve heard of recently wasn’t even made on a football field. It was made by a seventeen-year-old girl named Melissa Alexander. Melissa was fast asleep one night in December when she was awakened by the terrifying words, “I think there’s somebody outside.” Two men were outside the house. They appeared to be messing with the garage door. Melissa--who is 5 feet, three inches, and weighs just 115 pounds--decided to take matters into her own hands. She ran outside and tackled one of the men. With her mother’s help, she tied him up with a leash and held him until the police arrived. Imagine that. Only a teenager! Only a girl, but she corralled a bad guy.

          Way back in 1958, a high school senior from Ohio, Robert G. Heft, designed a 50-star American flag for a history class project. At the time, the U.S. had only 48 states, but there was much talk of bringing Alaska and Hawaii into the Union. Robert’s mother was “horrified” at his choice of a project; she insisted that he was desecrating the flag. Robert’s history teacher gave him a dismal grade. When Robert questioned his grade, his teacher replied, “If you don’t like the grade, go get the flag accepted in Washington!”

          And so that’s what 17-year-old Robert Heft did. He presented his flag to Ohio congressman Walter Moeller and asked him to take it to Washington for consideration as the new design for the American flag. In 1959, Alaska and Hawaii were admitted to the Union. There began a nationwide contest to design a new, 50-star flag. Robert Heft’s flag was chosen as the new, official flag of the United States of America. Imagine that. Only in high school--but he designed the flag millions of Americans salute today.

          Ethel Armstead is one of millions of unfortunate people who live in a high-crime neighborhood. Not long after moving into her neighborhood, Ethel discovered that numerous drug dealers ran their business off her front porch. She had heard horror stories of the harassment or violence that was used to intimidate anyone who messed with the dealers. But Ethel Armstead didn’t let her fear stand in the way of taking action. She wanted to live in a neighborhood free of drugs and crime. So Ethel began confronting the dealers. She was respectful, but firm, insisting that they move their business off her front porch. When they moved off the porch, Ethel became a little bolder. Next, she talked them into moving the drug trade off her block. After a while, the dealers began showing Ethel a measure of respect. In the winter, they shoveled snow off her sidewalk. They also began calling her “Mom.”

          Ethel began taking an interest in these young men’s lives. She encouraged them to do something useful with their time. She became involved in a community group that built playgrounds on abandoned lots. Ethel also started an after-school program to keep kids off the streets, and she convinced the city council to redevelop abandoned buildings in her neighborhood. Her efforts are revitalizing her neighborhood.

          Only a woman! A mature woman, at that! But living in a drug-invested environment, going up against young hoodlums, she took matters into her own hands and look what happened.

          The word of the Lord came to a young fellow named Jeremiah. Here is what the Lord said to him, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”

          Jeremiah said, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” Catch those words: “Only a boy.”

          But the Lord said to Jeremiah, “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you, Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.”

          Then the Lord put out his hand and touched Jeremiah’s mouth; and the Lord said to him, “Now I have put my words in your mouth . . .”

          Only a boy! And yet, a messenger from God. Here’s a good word to eliminate from our vocabulary--it’s the word, “only.” Only a teenager, only a woman, only an old-timer, only a black man, only a high school graduate--the world is full of people who did amazing things even though they were only this or only that.

          Preacher Fred Craddock has a bone to pick with people who use this phrase: “I’m only human.” When do we usually use those words? Isn’t it after we have royally fouled things up. I gave into temptation-- “Well, I’m only human.” I overslept this morning-- “Well, I’m only human.” I ate that last piece of chocolate cake. “Well, I’m only human.” That’s our excuse for all our little flaws and failings. But Craddock says that we need to reconsider this statement. The Bible says that we were created “a little lower than the angels.” We are the crown of God’s creation. God sent His Son to die in our behalf.

          Craddock suggests to us that whenever somebody we know does something right or when someone commends us for doing something extremely well, we say, “After all, I’m human.” Because to be human is to be created in the image of God. As the writer of Ephesians says, “You are God’s masterpiece.” A profound thought. We are God’s masterpiece. Never say, “I’m only this . . .  I’m only that.”

          Even before we were born, God fashioned us to do great things.

          Don't say, “I’m only a home maker, I’m only a student, I’m only a janitor, I’m only a senior citizen.” God did not make us for mediocrity. Put ourselves in God’s hands and we can do more and be more than we ever dreamed possible.

          Thomas Barnardo was only a poor Irishman. Born in 1845, Barnardo was often a problem in school. But that changed at his conversion at the age of sixteen.

          Thomas Barnardo went to London to study for a medical degree. It was there that he began working with illiterate children in an organization called Ragged School. One day, as Thomas was sharing his faith with a child of the streets, the little boy offered to show Thomas where he might find many more homeless children he could help. The little boy took Thomas to a rooftop; eleven homeless boys slept there at night.

          The sight of these homeless children stirred Thomas Barnardo’s heart, and he decided then that he would dedicate himself to finding shelter and care for destitute children. He found temporary homes for 16 boys right away.

          Thomas Barnado was unexpectedly called to speak at a missionary conference. Here he told his audience, which included the Earl of Shaftesbury, about rooftops, alleyways, and other haunts filled with homeless children. Some listeners doubted Thomas’ stories. The Earl of Shaftesbury asked Thomas to take him to see these homeless children. At their first stop, an outdoor market near the river, Thomas and the Earl found 73 homeless youths. The Earl paid for all of the young people to eat at a nearby coffee shop. To support his work, Thomas sold Bibles on the streets, in the shops, and in the taverns of the city. One day in a tavern, a patron attacked him and broke two of his ribs. Thomas refused to press charges, and his godly example caused hundreds of people to become more open to his work.

          Thomas Barnardo opened his first children’s home in 1870. He and a colleague took in boys, fed them, clothed them, educated them. One time, Thomas had to turn a boy away because of lack of space. This boy died from exposure and hunger. When Thomas Barnardo found out, he put up a sign outside the home, “No Destitute Child Ever Refused Admission.”

          Each night Thomas Barnardo would go out into the street and find homeless children. Thomas was worried about the influence of The Edinburgh Castle Gin Palace and Music Hall. He set up a tent near the Hall and began preaching to the crowds. Hundreds of people came to Christ, and many vowed to quit drinking. Eventually the Hall had to close down, due to decreasing business. Thomas wanted to buy the Hall, but he didn’t have the necessary 4,000 pounds. He signed the contract anyway, in perfect faith of God’s plans. Two weeks later, 45 minutes before the deadline, Thomas got the last 10 pounds needed to buy the Hall. What had once been a tavern became the Coffee Palace, a hall for evangelistic activities. Almost 3,000 people worshiped there each Sunday. Soon, Thomas was able to build a housing complex for homeless girls, too. He continued, through the years, to build homes for destitute children. Each home provided nourishing food and met basic physical needs. Also, the homes were staffed by loving people who gave the children guidance, an education, and religious instruction.

          There were some who opposed Thomas’ homes for children. Jealous welfare workers, disgruntled ex-staffers, criminals who exploited children, all spread rumors that the children were maltreated and the funds mismanaged at the homes  The Court of Arbitration began a four-month investigation into the allegations. They acquitted Thomas Barnardo and the homes on all charges.

          Thomas Barnardo died at the age of 60. He had exhausted himself in serving destitute children all his life. By the time of his death, there were estimates that his homes had helped over 60,000 children. On the bronze memorial of Thomas Barnardo’s grave are carved the words, “I hope to die as I have lived, in the humble but assured faith of Jesus Christ as my Savior, my Master and My King.”

          I said Thomas was only a poor Irishman. But he became an amazing instrument of God. Just like Jeremiah. Just like Simon Peter. Just like Mary Magdalene. Just like St. Paul. We could put an “only” in front of all of their names. But look what God did through them. Imagine what God could do through us if we trusted ourselves completely to God’s leadership. I don’t care what your situation is, one thing a Christian should never say is, “I’m only such-and-such.” We are a child of God. It remains to be seen what God may do through us.

"Five Things a Christian Should Never Say:   

        "I Am Unworthy!"               Isaiah 6:1-8

A Sermon by Pastor Boettner

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

February 15, 2004

Leonia United Methodist Church