Every time the church confesses the Apostle’s Creed, we add our testimony to the testimony of Christians in every time and place that the LORD God who revealed himself to Moses, and to the prophets of Israel, has, in these last days, not only spoken to us by, but revealed himself in and through a Son. Jesus Christ is, “(God’s) only Son, Our Lord.”
“Our Lord” and “My Lord”
The 2nd of several sermons on the second article of the Apostle’s Creed)
No one can “Jesus is Lord!” but by the Holy Spirit. 1 Corinthians 12:3b
“My Lord and my God!” John 20:28
When the Apostle’s Creed Confesses that “Jesus is Lord!”, it is primarily a theological confession. It means that Jesus Christ is “Our Lord” whether we personally acknowledge him or not. People may turn off the radio, but the music plays on, unheard, perhaps, but still there. There are others, still tuned in, who do hear it, and will gladly tell you that they do. Likewise, some may refuse to acknowledge Jesus Christ as Lord, but those who do so cannot change who he is. The day is coming, says, Paul, when the whole world will confess what faith already knows. On that day, he says:
Every knee will bow, both in heaven and on the earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that “Jesus is Lord!” to the glory of God the Father.
Every time the church confesses the Apostle’s Creed, we add our testimony to the testimony of Christians in every time and place that the LORD God who revealed himself to Moses, and to the prophets of Israel, has, in these last days, not only spoken to us by, but revealed himself in and through a Son. Jesus Christ is, “(God’s) only Son, Our Lord.”
No piece of theology is anymore important to the Christian faith than this, the 2nd article of the Apostle’s Creed. It is the “bright light set in the middle of the room” that cast light not only upon “the shadowy corners” of the creed, but also upon the darkness of our world. F. F. Hagen was right when he taught us to sing:
Morning Star, O cheering Sight,
E’re thou came, how dark Earth’s night!
It is important to be theologically correct, but is it enough to be theologically correct?
No! If Jesus Christ is always “Our Lord,” and never, “My Lord,” then I am living on the margins of the Christian faith. I am like the man who spent the last of his money signing up for a cruise on a luxury liner. He was so enamored of watching the sunrise at sea, and of visiting the tropical islands in which the vessel made port, that he scarcely minded that he had to eat crackers in his room while the rest of the passengers made their way to scrumptious buffet meals laid out in the grand ballroom of the ship. Then one day, a steward noticed the man’s odd behavior.
“Why don’t you take your meals with the rest of the passengers?” he asked.
“I can’t afford them,” the man responded.
“Why not?” rejoined the steward, “It is included in the price of your ticket.”
The personal Lordship of Christ is included in the price of our ticket, too.
As Christians, we need to know that his death on the cross was sufficient to pay the penalty for the sins of the world. And I need to know that it was sufficient to pay the penalty for my sins.
Likewise, as Christians, we need to know that his resurrection from the dead is the massive sign that God has not abandoned our little world of time and space, but penetrated it, shattered it, and begun its transformation. And I need to know that it is the sign that God has not abandoned me, but, in Christ, has penetrated my loneliness, and shattered my isolation, and started my transformation, and put hope into my heart.
Finally, as Christians, we need to know that Christ has a mission for the church. This mission is not just, “to make disciples of all nations,” (Matthew 28), but to be his “hands and feet in the world.” (John 20:21). And I need to know that, within the great broad mission of the church, there is a unique mission for me! I need to know that there is something for me to do that I alone can do, and if I fail to do it, it may be sometime before it is done, and in that time, men and women, and boys and girls, may become “shipwrecked” and hurt, or left adrift, or lost completely, because I have failed to be obedient to my Lord.
There is a little ditty I learned as a child that makes my point precisely.
For the want of a nail, the shoe was lost,
and for the want of a shoe, the horse was lost,
and for the want of a horse, the rider was lost,
and for the want of a rider, the sword was lost,
and for the want of the sword, the battle was lost,
for the want of the battle, the war was lost,
for want of the war, the kingdom was lost.
Do you know the most frightening question in scripture? It is the question of Jesus: ” When the son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?” (Luke 18:8)
Who knows? Maybe I am, or you are, the “nail” that God needs in the right place right now.
Years ago I read a sermon that had in it a story about a man walking along a beach who heard calls for help. He looked out, and there, far beyond the breakers, he saw, or thought he saw, a young man struggling against a tide that was carrying him out to sea. The man looked up and down the beach for help. The beach was empty for miles. A shiver ran down his spine as he argued against the wisdom of what he was about to do. He told himself that he was a weak swimmer, and that he himself would perish; but he did what he had to do. He plunged into the water and swam as best he could for the young man who was struggling against the sea. The minutes that followed were filled with uncertainty, with agony, with his lungs bursting for want of oxygen, with fatigue, and with fear. At last, however, on legs that had turned to rubber, he succeeded in dragging the young man from the surf. It was only then that he saw the person whose life he had saved was not a young man at all—it was his young man, his son.
That story may be apocryphal. This one most certainly is not. I shall never forget a visit I made almost twenty years ago to prominent Protestant clergyman who was old enough to be my father and then some. For awhile we enjoyed polite conversation, then, then we genuinely began to like each other, then I must have touched a nerve, for suddenly, with tears in his eyes, he bowed his head into his hands and cried out: “O, Worth, what shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own son?”
We have entered a time when none of us can afford to ignore Christ’s claim of Lordship over us, or to protest ignorance of God’s will for our lives. “For the want of the nail, the kingdom was lost.” If you or I fail to do our part, a life may be lost, and the life that is lost, may be one that is dear to us! It may be the life will be that of a son, or a daughter that is lost. It may be that the life that is lost will be our own!
We do not want to be among those who come to Jesus on the last great day, and say, “Lord, did we not preach in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name!”, only to have him say to us: “Depart from me, you evildoers, for I never knew you!” (Matthew 7:21f)
It is not enough to confess with the church “Jesus is Our Lord!” Each of us must, with Thomas, fall down upon our knees, and say to Jesus Christ, “You are my lord and my God! I am yours to command, and I await your good pleasure!”
How then am I to insure that Jesus Christ is “My Lord?” And how are you to be sure that Jesus is “Your Lord?”
First, there must be a conscious decision. In Revelation the 3rd Chapter, Jesus stands outside a fast closed door and says, “Behold I stand at the door and knock, if anyone opens to me, I will come in to him and dine with him and he with me.” (Rev. 3:20)
This passage is addressed not to unbelievers, but to Christians. It is addressed to the Christians in the church of Laodicea, who are described as “neither cold, nor hot, but lukewarm.” It represents a last chance to accept the Lordship of Christ before God, “spits them out of (His) mouth.”
As we have previously noted, Christ knocks that we might answer. When artists paint this scene, invariably there is no latch on the outside of the door. Christ waits upon us to answer. He is patient, but some of us are running out of time and opportunity. Is it too late for us to answer? I think not! Some years ago I had a member who did not wish to see me. I called him many times; it was never convenient for me to come. When I dropped by, there was “nobody home” even though his car was frequently in the drive. One fine summer day I went to his house with a book. I knocked on his door, and there was no answer. I saw his car in the drive. I sat down and began to read. Forty-five minutes later, he answered the door, saying, “You are not going to go away are you?” I said, “No, I am not—not until you let me in!” He did, and we became great friends.
When we finally open to Christ, he comes in, and we become great friends, too.
There is another point I want to make from this passage. Until we open to Christ, we are like the man on the ship who is eating crackers in his stateroom. When Christ comes, he brings the feast with him! This is the point that Christians miss over and over again. They think that following Christ is all long faces, dull days, early nights, and boring people. Wrong! When I admit Jesus Christ into my life as “my Lord”, then life begins to sing!
In the poem, “The Hound of Heaven,” Francis Thompson wrote of his conscious decision to open his life to Christ. He avoided it as long as possible. He ran from him. But, as he ran, he heard behind him the “beat, beat, beat of persistent feet.” He heard, too, the voice of the one from whom he was running cry out after him:
“When thou fleest me, all things good flee thee!”
Some of us need to answer the door!
Secondly, there must be a conscious decision to surrender our lives to Christ. We must give him everything. Billy Graham warns that God will not take our failures unless we also give him our successes. He will not take our vices, unless we also give him our virtues.
At the end of a long career as a missionary and evangelist, E. Stanley Jones was approached by a friend who had listened to him for years. She said, “Stanley, you have one answer for everything—surrender to Christ!” E. Stanley Jones responded, “That’s it—that is the one answer to every difficulty—-surrender to Christ!”
General Lee did not gradually surrender the Army of Northern Virginia to General Grant. He struck his colors, surrendered his sword, and threw himself of Grant’s mercy. God will stand for nothing less. We cannot expect him of “take our troubles” and “take care of our sins” unless we also give him our time, our talents, ourselves. The surrender must be total. It goes something like this:
“Lord, I don’t know you very well. Nor do I know myself all that well. Nevertheless, I give as much of you as I know, as much of myself as I know, in the confidence that I will soon know both of us better!”
This prayer is not the prayer of a moment—it is the prayer of a lifetime!
Third, there must be a transfer of ownership. It was Frances Havergal who taught us to sing:
Take my life and let it be,
Consecrated, Lord to Thee;
Take my hands, and let them move
at the impulse of thy love,
at the impulse of thy love.
That whole hymn reads like a quitclaim for all of life: “Take my life”, “take my hands”, “take my feet”, “take my voice,” “take my silver and my gold”, “take my will”, “take my love.”
How did the song writer put it, “All of me, please take all of me!” That is a fitting prayer for Christians. There is a scene in the movie Titanic that puts meaning into this prayer. The ship is sinking. People are crowding onto the deck to get into the lifeboats; many are loaded down with their luggage. The steward says to them, “There aren’t enough boats, you can’t take your luggage.” But God says to us, “Bring everything, give me everything. Then what you are and what you have will be safe. It will be in my hands. We can use it!”
Finally, there must be a willingness to seek God’s will for our lives, and to do what we sincerely believe Jesus Christ would have us to do.
On Wednesday evening forty or fifty of us met to study a marvelous book by Leslie Weatherhead, the late, great British Methodist, who pastored City Temple in London during the 2nd World War. The book is entitled, The Will of God. In chapter four, Weatherhead addresses the subject of discerning God’s will. He points out that, once we have made “friends” with God there are a number of ways this can be done—the Scriptures, conscience, the advice of a friend, the study of history, common sense, the “inner light” about which the Quakers speak. Then, having helped us with ways of discovering the will of God, he concludes the chapter with two questions: 1) Do we really want to discover the will of God? Or are we simply looking for God’s approval of decisions we have already made. That is what many of us are guilty of. Like one friend of mine, we know it is easier, “To get forgiveness, than to get permission.” 2) Do we have the courage to do the will of God once we know it? There is the heart of the matter. If I want Jesus Christ to be not just “Our Lord,” but “My Lord,” do I have the courage to do what he requires of me?
As I read the question by Weatherhead, and reflected upon it in preparation for the class, I remembered something that was written by John Baillie, the first president of the World Council of Churches. He wrote, “We cry out for some fresh revelation of God’s will. It does not come. It does not, because we have failed to act on what we already know!”
I read once about a preacher who spoke on the Lordship of Christ to a large gathering of young people. Most of the response was very positive. These young people, being more flexible than us “old people” had seen the advantage of surrendering their lives to the Lordship of Christ. One, however, held back. She was a young woman who had been dating a young man of whom she knew that God would not approve. She said, “I want Jesus Christ to be not just my Saviour, but also my Lord. Nevertheless, I feel I must say ‘No!’ to this matter of giving up my relationship to this boy. ”
This wise old pastor turned with her to the 10th chapter of Acts, to the place where God speaks in a dream to Peter, a good Jew, and tells him that it is all right to eat the good things that God had previously denied Israel, things like shrimp, and oysters, and “pork barbecue from Little Richard’s.” In the dream God lets a sheet filled with these creatures down from heaven and says to Peter, “Rise, Peter, kill and eat.” And Peter responds, “No! Lord.” Of course, if we read the rest of the story it is not long before Peter crumbles, and the “No!” turns to a “Yes!”
This pastor pointed out the words, “No, Lord!”, and said, “Our life in Christ is the constant choice between those two words. Over and over again we must choose. It can be, ‘No,’ or it can be ‘Lord,’ but it can never be both.”
Then he asked her a question that we must continually answer. He asked, “What is it going to be with you?”
That’s it! What’s it going to be, “crackers in the room,” or a banquet supplied and hosted by “Our Lord,” Jesus Christ?
Finis
Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.
EverydayCounselor©
New Philadelphia Moravian Church
4440 Country Club Road
Winston-Salem, N.C. 27104