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In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth and all that dwell within them. God didn't need to create. God chose to create…out of love, to express his love.
God created humankind in his image…out of love, to express his love. God invited humanity to love him in return and to join him in pouring out his love upon all of creation.
Everything was good. Everything was in right relationship. Everything was shaped by love.
The Fall changed all that. Humanity, created out of love for the purpose of love, also had freedom, because without freedom there cannot be love. Humanity decided that the love of God was not enough, that we wanted to be like God, that we wanted to be the center of things. Humanity chose to disobey. Everything was distorted. Everything was now in wrong relationship.
Alienation entered into creation. People were alienated from God. People were alienated from one another. People were alienated from the rest of creation.
Deprivation entered into creation: hunger, cold, and sickness.
Oppression entered into the world. People, alienated from God and from one another, afraid of deprivation, began to use whatever power they had to exploit and abuse one another.
God still loved. He never stopped loving. When humanity turned away from him, God pursued us. God claimed, nurtured, and warned. God destroyed, wooed, and restored. God promised, blessed, guided, provided, called, sent, shaped, and led. God spoke. God judged. God healed. God forgave. All for love. All for the sake of right relationship.
God pursued us, all for love.
God called Abraham. "Go to the land that I will show you," he said to Abram. "All the peoples on earth will be blessed through you," he promised.
There, in that moment, while Abraham and Sarah looked for all the world like an ordinary old childless couple, the people Israel was brought into being according to the purposes of God and so that they might enter into the purpose of God.
The people of Israel were sometimes faithful, but frequently they turned from their part in the purposes of God. They turned aside from their part in the purposes of God primarily in two ways:
One way the people of Israel turned aside from their part in the purposes of God was by hoarding the blessings of God for themselves, as if their status as the chosen people of God made them more special than other peoples, as if the blessings God gave them were for their glory and not for God's. The result was more exploitation and abuse, and sometimes the people of Israel were more a demonstration of the pervasiveness of brokenness in the world than a demonstration of God's intent and power to make whole what is broken. God's purpose for them did not waver, but they wavered from their God-given reason for being.
The other way the people of Israel turned aside from their part in the purposes of God was by turning to other gods, as if God did not mind if they had divided loyalties, as if they were free to play the field, as if God was not enough. The result was more alienation as Israel joined with other peoples in the blind search for some hope somewhere, instead of pointing to the one true and living God who had revealed himself to them as the author of life and the only eternal source of hope. God's purpose for them did not waver, but they wavered from their God-given reason for being.
In the fullness of time, Jesus-God's own Son-came. God did not stay in heaven and beckon and wait. God pursued us, all for love.
In the person of his Son, God came to us. He became one of us. He walked among us where we lived. He spoke to us in ways we could understand. Jesus entered fully into the purpose of God in the world.
Jesus touched the broken so that they were made whole; this, he said, is the Father's love. He reached out to the lonely and embraced them; this, he said, is the Father's love. He lifted up those who were burdened by shame; this, he said, is the Father's love. He bound up the broken-hearted; this, he said, is the Father's love. He poured out compassion on the poor and the hungry; this, he said, is the Father's love. He revealed the hearts of the self-righteous so that they might be humbled; this, he said, is the Father's love. He spoke truth to the scornful so that their hearts might be softened; this, he said, is the Father's love. He welcomed sinners so that they might be set free from their sin; this, he said, is the Father's love. He laid down his life, so that others might live; this, he said, is the Father's love.
Jesus was raised from the dead to reveal in fullness the one true and living God who is the author of life and the only eternal source of hope and to shape a new community of followers in the world. Jesus ascended to the Father to reign over this new community.
And God poured out his Holy Spirit on this new community to dwell among them and within them, to fill them to overflowing with God's love, and to continue the ministry of Jesus in the world.
By the grace of God and power of the Holy Spirit, the purpose of the church is to touch the broken so that they may be made whole. To reached out to the lonely and embrace them. To lift up those who are burdened by shame. To bind up the broken-hearted. To pour out compassion on the poor and the hungry. To expose the hearts of the self-righteous so that they (we?) might be humbled. To speak truth to the scornful so that their (our?) hearts might be softened. To welcome sinners so that God might set them (us?) free from sin. To lay down our life for Christ's sake and for the sake of his gospel. To show and to share the Father's love.
The church was brought into being according to the purposes of God so that we might enter into the purposes of God.
The call to Abraham is continued in the church.
In his Letter to the Galatians, Paul explains that the descendants of Abraham are not marked according to the DNA found in their cells but according to the DNA found in their spirits. All who are bound to Christ are the spiritual descendants of Abraham, and the charge God gave to Abraham is now our charge.
"Go where I will show you, and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you."
This charge is echoed in Jesus' call to Peter and Andrew. "Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."
This charge is echoed in the Great Commission recorded at the close of the Gospel of Matthew: "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you."
This charge is echoed in the Great Commission as recorded at the close of the Gospel of Mark: "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation."
This charge is echoed in the Great Commission as recorded by Luke at the opening of the Book of Acts: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
This charge is echoed in the words of the risen Jesus recorded in the Gospel of John: "As the Father has sent me, I am sending you."
The church was brought into being according to the purposes of God so that we might enter into the purposes of God.
Over the last 2000 years the church has sometimes been faithful and sometimes turned from our part in the purposes of God.
Sometimes we have hoarded the blessings of God for ourselves, as if our status as the Body of Christ made us more special than other peoples, as if the blessings God gave us are for our glory and not for God's. The result has been more exploitation and abuse, and sometimes the church has been more a demonstration of the pervasiveness of brokenness in the world than a demonstration of God's intent and power to make whole what is broken. God's purpose for the church does not waver, but sometimes the church has wavered from our God-given reason for being.
Sometimes we have turned to other gods. Oh, not with our words, not usually. We have usually been faithful with our lips, but our lives have often given evidence of divided loyalties-as if God does not mind sharing our attentions, as if we are free to play the field, as if God is not enough. The result has been more alienation as the church has joined with other peoples in the blind search for some hope somewhere, instead of pointing to the one true and living God who has revealed himself as the author of life and the only eternal source of hope. God's purpose for the church does not waver, but sometimes the church has wavered from our God-given reason for being.
Sometimes, the local church-here and there-has wondered if it even has a reason for being. Maybe there have been moments in Calvary's history when you have wondered if Calvary has a reason for being. Don't wonder. Know. Calvary has a reason for being.
Last week I was in Atlanta for a conference. It just so happened that the conference was located at my home church, Peachtree Presbyterian Church. This was my first time back to Peachtree in years. I hadn't been there since I graduated from seminary. Even when I was in seminary, I wasn't there very often; I was usually occupied elsewhere on Sunday mornings.
Peachtree is a really, really big church. The campus is huge; the building is huge. One of the nice things about being familiar with the building-at least the parts of the building that were there when I was there-is that when I parked in the back parking lot I could enter the building the back way and wind my way through seldom-used hallways to the front of the building where the conference was going on. I didn't have to walk all the way around the building to the front entrance, and so I didn't-I didn't use the new front entrance to come into the new reception area the whole time I was there.
On Friday afternoon, during a break in the events, I noticed that there were a few messages on my cell phone. I went to the reception area to get some coffee-along with a few hundred other people-and pulled out my phone to return the calls. There was a problem though. The reception area was filled with people, mostly in groups of three or four, chatting excitedly about the conference. The noise was deafening. There was no way I could make a phone call there, so I made my way to the front entrance and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
There were a lot of people out here too-scattered up and down the sidewalk, each with one hand to an ear and their eyes staring off into space. It was like some invisible force held each person in a bubble of their own-each person separated from and oblivious to the people around them. I found a gap in the crowd, pulled out my cell phone, put my hand to my ear, stared off into space, and disappeared into my own bubble.
Some time during my second phone conversation, I just happened to glance down. There, centered between my feet, was my name carved in stone. T-I-L-L-E-R…right there between my feet, carved in stone, the letters perfected oriented from left to right relative to my stance.
That was pretty cool. It's nice to see your name carved in stone. Makes you feel important somehow.
It also surprised me. Why in the world was my name carved in stone outside the new front door of Peachtree Presbyterian Church?
Of course, it wasn't just my name. I glanced around and suddenly realized that the whole sidewalk was made out of bricks that had names carved into them. My brick was just one among hundreds.
It took me a few moments, but I figured it out. Several years before-before I was in seminary, before I had even thought about going to seminary-Peachtree had started a capital campaign to fund some major additions to the building. Most of the construction occurred while I was in seminary. I remember seeing the work in progress occasionally as I drove by the building, but I never explored the finished work. I had contributed to the capital campaign, however, and it finally dawned on me that the bricks represented the people who had contributed. That's why my name was there, and that's why my name was just one among hundreds.
Still, it was pretty cool to see my name carved in stone. What are the chances that my search for a bubble of cell phone privacy would place me directly over the one brick with my name on it?
Later, while I was reflecting upon the conference and praying, the image of a sidewalk made out of bricks with names carved in them came to my thoughts. The image I had was like the sidewalk in front of Peachtree Presbyterian Church, but it was bigger; it extended as far as my mind's eye could see in both directions. I thought again about how amazing it was that, of all those hundreds of bricks, the one I stood over was the one with my name on it. I could sense the Lord speaking to me, and this is what he said, as far as I can put it into words:
"You know, Chris, your brick is no more special than any other brick out there."
"Yeah, I know. "
"But neither is your brick any less special than any other brick out there. I know you by name, and I will never lose track of you in the crowd."
That caused me to be silent for awhile.
"Wow. Thanks! I wasn't even discouraged, and you give me this wonderful gift of encouragement. Thanks!"
I sensed the Lord speaking to me again, and this is what he said, as far as I can put it into words:
"This word isn't just for you, Chris. This word is for Calvary. Tell Calvary that they are no more special than any other church in the world, but neither are they any less special than any other church in the world. Tell Calvary that I know them by name, and I will never lose track of them in the crowd."
So, I'm telling you, Calvary: You are no more special than any other church in the world. Neither are you any less special than any other church in the world. God knows you by name, and he will never lose track of you in the crowd.
God loves you.
You have a God-given reason for being.
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