Notes From Jon

Even though I’ve had to take a couple of breaks from the series on Romans, it’s still going – and going strong, it seems.  Our church folks are saying they have consistently enjoyed these sermons more than others I have done.

So this post continues into Romans chapter 6.  As some of the prior entries in this series, this post is more “commentary” than sermon – these were the notes I took in preparation for the actual sermon.

Intro: “Easier to Ask Forgiveness…”

(1) What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound?  (2)  By no means!

Paul is picking up where he left off before – “where sin increased, grace increased all the more” (5:20).  Using a typical rhetorical device, Paul anticipates the questions and objections of his hearers/readers.  “So if grace is ALWAYS going to be greater than sin, then we can keep on sinning, right?  It will always be forgiven later, after all!”

Before we write this off as something we would never do, think about it.  Have you ever thought like this before?  I have.

And it’s not uncommon for us, as human beings, to think like this.  While we are here on this side of heaven, our nature will always be to work contrary to God.  And sinful ways are tempting – that’s why we want to go back to them.  It’s fun!  That’s just the way we are!

Paul’s answer, of course, is a resounding NO.  In fact, in Greek this phrase, me genoito, is something like “God forbid!” or “heck no!” Read the rest of this entry »

Tonight, for the second year in a row, I was asked to play “Jesus” in a Bible School program at a local church.  They use Group Publishing’s “Holy Land Experience,” and all week long they build up to meeting this wonderful Jesus person – so, during their closing worship on the final night, “Jesus” makes his appearance (hope I didn’t ruin the surprise for any of you).

I walked down the aisle of the church in costume, talking to each of the children and blessing them, then I asked them to go out and tell everyone what they’ve learned during the week.  Quick, simple… but very effective.  I told one of the adults afterward, “The way you guys build up to Jesus’ appearance all week long, you could have practically anyone walk down the aisle in a robe and they’d be enthralled.”

I’m sure you’d hear many well-justified jokes about someone asking ME to play Jesus – most of them would come from me.  And it didn’t help the folks at Thrift’s Chapel that I was bald this year… we had to add an extra piece of costume to make up for that.

And there’s more irony.  Because Jesus’ appearance is such a secret, and they don’t want the kids to see the actor ahead of time, I have to park in the grass behind the church and come in quietly.  “Behold, I stand at the back door and sneak in…”

Joking aside, tonight’s experience was very moving for me, because I really got to see the view from Jesus’ sandals.  Those kids had been looking forward to meeting Jesus all week, and when I “interrupted” their gathering in the middle of a song, you could have heard a pin drop.  All the adults had one of those knowing looks, like when someone comes into the party dressed up as Santa Claus.  But not the children.  It was touching to see them looking up at me – some smiling, some awestruck, some afraid, some staring in wonder…

They all wanted to reach out and touch me, and when one little boy reached out with his left hand, I realized he was missing the end of his right arm.  My heart ached to have the power of Jesus for just one moment, to make his body whole.

I thought, “What must it have been like for Jesus, to go from place to place, meeting new people every day?  Most of them wanted something from him – a healing, a miracle, a loaf of bread, some new tidbit of wisdom, the spark for a rebellion… The list was never-ending.  They pressed on him in such crowds that at times he had to go out into a boat to talk to them (or just to get away to the other side of the lake), corner himself in a house, or let his disciples clear the way through crowded streets so he could get from one place to another.  Everyone wanted something from Jesus, and his compassion drove him to try to meet those needs as often as he could – even when it drove him to exhaustion.

How refreshing it must have been, then, when the children wanted to come to Jesus.  They had no agenda – they only knew that Jesus loved them and listened to them patiently.  They didn’t look at him with impatience or skepticism – simply joy and wonder.  They didn’t crowd up against him to get what they wanted – but to get to know this wonderful man who knelt down to talk to them, who laughed with them and hugged them.

Now I imagine, as his disciples pushed the children away, because there were so many more “pressing” needs, Jesus’ voice calls out angrily and almost desperately: “Let them come, and don’t keep them away!”

No wonder he said we had to become like children to enter the Kingdom.