Last week we heard from a husband and a wife who live with their children in a country where it is illegal for anyone to share the Christian faith. In fact, they told us about believers who must guard the secret of their faith so closely, that they do not even tell their husbands, or their wives that they are Christians. The man who visited with us has a secular job, and he earns money at that job, so he can support his family. But his true vocation, his calling, is composing oral Bible stories that Christians in the country where he lives can use to understand and to share the story of Jesus Christ. He told us that he had isolated 31 stories from the Bible that he thought would make up a good core for the believers in that place.

When I met with him briefly on Thursday afternoon, I told him he was compiling “the Oral Canon of That Country.”

Our Canon consists of 66 books, 39 Books in the Old Testament, and 27 Books in the New Testament. The Oral Canon of That Country consists of 31 stories; there is quite a contrast.

In point of fact, Christians in That Country are re-entering a period of oral tradition not unlike that which was once the rule both in Israel, and in the Early Church.

A period of the oral tradition preceded both the written canon of the Hebrew Bible, our Old Testament, and the written canon of the New Testament.
Consider the Hebrew Bible, our Old Testament. If you search the Revised Standard Version of the Old Testament you will find that the phrase “to this day” occurs 92 times. The phrase “to this day” indicates a gap in time, whether short or long, between the time something happened, and the time the story of what happened was written down. Let me give you just one example.
In Joshua chapter 4 we read that Joshua is about to lead the children of Israel over the Jordan into the promised land. At the command of Joshua, twelve men, one from each of the tribes of Israel, carry the Ark of the Covenant to the brink of the Jordan River, and the waters from above ceased to flow, and stood in a heap, and the river bed dried up, and Joshua led the children of Israel across on dry ground. And when they had all crossed over, Joshua set up twelve stones in the place where the feet of the priest bearing the Ark had stood. And the text declares, “(the stones) are there to this day.”

The period between the event, and when the event was written down, was the period of the oral tradition. The Children of Israel told one another, and their neighbors, the stories of what God had done for them. They told how God led them out of Egypt, and across the Red Sea. They told how God fed them with manna in the wilderness. Or, to use the example we just talked about, they told how God dried up the Jordan for Joshua, as he had once dried up the Red Sea for Moses.

Israel used many devices to help them preserve the tradition in stories, They used stones, and monuments, and songs, and poems, and mezuzahs, and body parts.

Yes, body parts. Martin Buber once wrote that God gave us Ten Commandments because we had ten fingers.

And what about a song? When Israel passed through the Yom Suph (Reed/Red Sea) as on the dry ground, and the armies of Egypt were swallowed up behind them, Miriam, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after with timbrels and dancing. And Miriam sang to them:

“Sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.”

That is a short little song, hardly worthy of the “top forty,” but scholars tell us it is the one of the earliest snippets of tradition in the Hebrew Bible. It may indeed go all the way back to the day that the Children of Israel marveled that God gave them victory over their oppressors in the sea.

And what about the Mezuzah? The Mezuzah is a little box, made of metal, in which the Jews put a tiny scrap of paper on which they have written a prayer that begins, “Shema, Yisrael.” These are the first two words of Deuteronomy 6:4:

“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD; 5 and you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”

Moses was all about the oral tradtion. In Deuteronomy 11 Moses told the Hebrew children to lay up these words in their hearts, and in their souls, and to bind them as a sign upon their hand, or between their eyes, and to teach them to their children, and to talk of them when they are were sitting in their houses, or when they were walking by the way, or when they lay down, or when they rose up.

Even after the Shema was written into the Law, it was still a part of the oral tradition.

There was a period of Oral Tradition before the New Testament was written down, too.

Scholars agreed that Jesus was crucified, died, was buried, and rose again, at the festival of Passover, sometime between 30 and 33 AD.

The earliest of the four gospels, Mark, was not written down for almost forty years. The remaining three were written down over the next thirty years.

The earliest stories about Jesus in our New Testament are in the epistles of Paul. Paul was not a disciple of Jesus in the days of his flesh. In fact, he regarded Jesus as a blasphemer, and he was still persecuting the church when the Risen Jesus appeared to him on the road to Damascus, saying, “Saul, Saul, why do are you persecuting me?” Paul tells several times that he received much of what he knew about Jesus as “tradition,”and then passed it on to those to whom he preached. Let me give you a few examples.

Paul passes on Jesus’s teaching about clean and unclean foods, and about marriage, and about divorce, and about the end of the age, etc..

Paul tells us that Jesus was betrayed, and that, on the night when he was betrayed, he instituted the Holy Supper.

Paul tells us that Jesus died for our sins, in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and on the third day, he was raised from death, in accordance with the scriptures. Paul tells us that the Risen Christ appeared, to Peter, and to the twelve, and to five hundred brethren at one time, “most of whom,” he says, “are still alive, though some have fallen asleep.” He says that the Risen Christ also appeared to James, and to all the apostles. Finally, he says:

8 Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9 For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God which is with me. 11 Whether then it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed.

Some people think that Paul is the creator of Christianity as it exists today. What we just read is not the language of the inventor of Christianity. It is the language of one who joined the church, later, after it was well established, and only then because he could no longer deny the evidence he had seen with his own eyes. For Paul, Jesus had indeed been “…designated Son of God, in power, through a Spirit of Holiness, by his resurrection from the dead.” (Romans 1:4)

Paul not only tells us about Jesus, his letters are a treasure trove of information about how the stories of Jesus may have been passed on.
In Galatians 1, we read how, after God revealed Jesus to Paul that he might preach him among the gentiles, he did not go up to Jerusalem to visit with those who were apostles before him. Instead he went into Arabia. Then after three years he did go up to Jerusalem and he spent 15 days with Peter, and with James, the Lord’s brother. He does not say what they talked about, but we can be reasonably sure that they did not just talk about the weather. I have no doubt that Peter eagerly told Paul all he remembered about his time with Jesus. And I am pretty sure that James must have told Paul about how, he, too, though a brother of Jesus, had once thought Jesus “beside himself” and had come to faith only after the Risen Jesus had appeared to him.

Then, says Paul, after fourteen years, he went once more to Jerusalem, taking Barnabas and Titus along with him. He says he went up to lay his gospel before them in case he had run, or was running, in vain. He says that on this visit he saw Peter, and James the brother of the Lord, and John, the son of Zebedee. He says that though they were regarded as “pillars of the church,” they added nothing new to his gospel. They just agreed that they would go to the Jews, and that Paul would go to the Gentiles, and that Paul should also remember the poor, which thing Paul himself was eager to do.”

There is one other pretty special episode in Galatians 2. Paul and Peter end up together in Antioch, where the disciples were first called Christians. They are there for a covered dish supper. Peter gets into trouble with some of his Jewish friends, because those Gentiles were serving Barbecue*(*Actually Peter got into trouble just for sitting at table with Gentiles—I put in the part about the Barbecue to make it memorable.); and then he got into trouble with Paul for dumping his plate* (*Being insincere and leaving the Gentile table for the Jewish table). And Paul had to remind him that Christ Jesus was the end and perfection of the Law, and it was not by keeping kosher that one got back to God, but through faith in Christ. But my purpose is simply to remind you how wonderful it was for one Gentile Church to have a covered dish supper that featured at least two, and maybe more, eyewitnesses to the resurrection of Jesus. I have no doubt that Peter told them about what Jesus said and did in the the years he was a disciple of Jesus. Maybe he even told them how he denied Jesus not once, but three times just before his crucifixion. And maybe Paul talked about how he persecuted the church. I am sure he told them about his Damascus Road experience

Some people want to know, “Why didn’t the first Christians write the gospels down earlier?”

The answer is simple. The first Christians believed in the resurrection of Jesus in the same way that you believe in the NCAA Tournament. They believed that Jesus was the first-born from the dead, but not the last. They believed that he was the first fruits of them who had fallen asleep in death, and that they themselves were the harvest. They thought that Jesus was coming back, soon, maybe today, or next Tuesday, and that at his coming, the dead in Christ would be raised, and they themselves would be changed, and they would all be caught up to meet him, and go with Him into the more immediate presence of God. They were too busy looking for him and for the future that was coming to them in him to spend too much time looking back.

Some people want to know, “Why did they write the gospels down when they did?”

They wrote the gospels down when they did because the first generation of witnesses, the apostles, and the first generation of believers began to die out, and Christ had not yet come back, and the last of the first generation and the first of the 2nd generation which was not the last, began to be concerned about how all future generations of believers would learn about Jesus. I suspect their attitude was like that of the man we call Luke, the beloved Physician, to whom tradition attributes the Gospel of Luke. According to J.B. Phillip’s translation, Luke introduced his Gospel saying:

Dear Theophilus, Many people have already written an account of the events which have happened among us, basing their work on the evidence of those whom we know were eye-witnesses as well as teachers of the message. I have decided therefore, since I have traced the course of these happenings carefully from the beginning, to set them down for you myself in their proper order, so that you may have reliable information about the matters in which you have already had instruction. (Luke 1:1-4)

It was after the first Generations that the gospels were written down, and the period of the oral tradition came gradually to a close.

Or did it? That delightful young couple is composing an oral tradition for their country, and the truth is that all of us have an oral canon, too. There are certain stories from the Bible that live just behind our lips, and when the occasion arises, we tell them.

This is true even of our children. In the years before John’s arrival, I regularly taught catechism. I always included a session on the Life of Jesus. I would stand before a blank page on a flip-chart, and I would ask the people in the room to tell about Jesus.

• One said, “Jesus was born in Bethlehem.”
• Another said, “Mary was his mother, and Joseph (as was supposed) was his father.”
• “Jesus visited the temple when he was twelve because he had to be about his (Heavenly) Father’s business.” (“And he was already a Bible whiz, too!”)
• “Jesus was baptized in the river Jordan, by John the Baptist.”
• “Jesus was tempted by Satan.”
• “Jesus preached the Gospel of the Kingdom of God.”
• “Jesus healed a man blind.” “And caused the lame to walk.” “And cleansed the leper. “
• “Jesus wept.” “Jesus raised Lazarus from death.”
• “Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt, the foal of an ass.” “And people welcomed him with Hosannas!” (Jesus did this to fulfill the word of the Prophet, “Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass.” Zechariah 9:9)
• “Jesus made a whip of cords, and cleansed the temple of the money changers.”
• They remembered how Judas betrayed Jesus, and how Peter denied Jesus, and about how all the disciples forsook him and fled.
• They knew how Jesus was rejected by his own people, and condemned to die by Pontius Pilate.
• They remembered that he had been crucified between two thieves, died, and was buried in a borrowed tomb.
• They remember how, on the third day, Jesus rose again from the dead, and appeared to his disciples on many different occasions. And how he said, “In my Father’s house are many mansions, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again to receive you to myself, that where I am, you may be also.”

Those young people knew the Oral Canon of Confirmation. And that is not insignificant. St. Augustine said, that if we know His-Story, and if we know Him, and if we have faith, and hope, and love, we can grow as a disciple, even if, for some reason, we don’t have the Bible.

Augustine wrote when books were still rare and expensive. Today, we can buy a Bible for at the Good Will for a dollar, or we can get one from the Gideon’s, or we can download a Bible onto our computer for free. Even so, we need to lay-up the stories of the Scripture in our hearts, and one of the most important stories we can lay-up is our own Jesus story. Now you have heard my Jesus story before.

You know how I was living in San Diego on the night when I knelt down, stuck my finger into the air, and said, “O.K., God, if you are real, just touch the tip of my finger.” I have told you before that there was no touch, no shaking of the foundations, no bursting visions of light. Instead, I stook up and said, “O.K., God, I will do it your way. I will put my faith in your son, Jesus Christ.”

St. Paul had a Jesus story, too. I think we should finish with that. In Philippians 3:4-14 he writes:

4 If any other man thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law a Pharisee, 6 as to zeal a persecutor of the church, as to righteousness under the law blameless. 7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own, based on law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith; 10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. 12   Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13 Brethren, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

What is your Jesus story? What is your oral canon? How much of the gospel can you tell a friend later today, or a co-worker next week? Thirty-one stories? That is not a bad goal.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

Today’s sermon is the first in a little mini-series on “How to Read and Study the Bible.

1. We learn to read Scripture in stages. The first stage is passive. Our parents read to us; our grandparents tell us stories.

One of the first “Bible stories” I remember my mother reading to me was not in the Bible at all, but it is rooted in the Bible. It is called “The Littlest Angel.” Written by Charles Tazewell, and first released in 1946, it has become one of the best-selling children’s books of all time. With apologies to Charles Tazewell, the story went something like this. The Littlest Angel was just over four years, six months and five days old, when he presented himself at Heaven’s Gate. He missed home. He was unimpressed with the glories of heaven, and he had forgotten his handkerchief. He snuffeled to hide his tears, and his snuffling caused the Gatekeeper to blot his page for the first time ever. The Littlest Angel soon disrupted the peace of heaven. His halo was tarnished. His chubby hands were always dirty. He whistled at all hours, and it disturbed the prophets and patriarchs. He sang off key. He didn’t even know how to use his wings. Finally, an understanding Angel spoke to him, and asked how he could help. The littlest Angel said that he thought he can get by if only he had with him a small box he used to keep under his bed. A swift angel was dispatched, and the box retrieved. The change in The Littlest Angel was remarkable. His sighs turned into song. He started to learn to properly do all the things that angels have to do. Then the Birth of the Savior was announced. And all the angles made ready their gifts. The Littlest Angel wanted to give a gift, too. At first he thought he might give a song, but he was still learning to sing, and composing a song was beyond his limited ability. Then he thought about giving him a prayer, but he thought his prayers not beautiful enough. So he gave the best he had; he gave his old box. Then, when he saw it there among the splendid gifts of the other angels, he regretted his choice. He worried that God would think his gift unworthy. His old box contained nothing more the wings of a butterfly he found on a grassy hillside on a warm summer day, and two smooth white stones he had taken from a creek, and the collar that had once been worn by an old dog he had loved and lost. He was afraid that he might even be guilty of blasphemy, then the Voice of God spoke saying:

“Of all the gifts of all the angels, I find that this small box pleases me most. It’s contents are of the Earth and of men, and My Son is born to be King of both. These are the things that my Son, too, will know and love and cherish…. I accept this gift in the Name of the Child, Jesus, born of Mary this night in Bethlehem.”

There was a breathless pause, and then the rough box given by the Littlest Angel began to glow with a bright, unearthly light, then the light became a lustrous flame, and the flame became a radiant brilliance that blinded the eyes of all the angels! And it rose and rose until its splendor shown on all the earth, the Shinning Star of Bethlehem.

Now that story is not in the Bible, and some of the details in that story are most certainly not in the Bible, but it is rooted in the the Bible and the Bible is in, around and through it. For it proclaims Christ, and every young child who hears it read, and every parent who reads it, can’t help but admire the Littlest Angel and think about what he or she might give for God to use.

People frequently ask, “What stories from the Bible should I tell my children?”
I do not worry about telling children stories about the Bible like The Littlest Angel, that blend scripture and what we might call “dedicated fiction.” As they grow they will be able to sort out the two, and we can help them with that task.

There are some Bible stories that young children may not need to hear. I would not put a child to bed with stories of the Great Red Dragon, or the Beast of Revelation. I was frightened enough of the prayer my mother taught me. You remember it:

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die (die! Die! DIE!) before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

The intent of the prayer is honest and good, but God intended that children enjoy a time of life when they do not have to think about mortality, and I would not want to take that time of innocence away too quickly. They will have to give up the myth of their immortality soon enough, and they should, especially before they start riding in cars with their friends and driving themselves. I would rather tell small children the hopeful stories of scripture than the hard stories of scripture.

For instance, Isaiah foretold a time, still in the future, when:

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and lion and the (calf) together, and a little child will lead them. (Isaiah 11:6)

Many of the most important stories in the Bible were either written for children, or for the human race still in its adolescence.

Take for example, the gospel of St. John. I know it is filled with some of the most sophisticated and wonderful theology in the New Testament. It talks about Jesus as “the Word made flesh.” It proclaims his death as his most glorious achievement. It says that even though we are sinners, when we trust Jesus with our lives, we pass out of God’s judgment into Eternal Life. And it says that Eternal Life is not just about the quantity of life, but also about the quality of life, and that Eternal Life, as a quality of life, begins, not just after death, but right now. I know the theology of the gospel is pretty sophisticated. Yet, if one reads it in the original language, it is written so simply, and so beautifully, that it makes the language of the rest of the New Testament seem unnecessarily complicated and hard to read. Years ago, my professor of New Testament, Dr. Robert Lyon, closed the door and suggested to us that he though that John was written with children in mind. It was like he was almost afraid to admit it. Yet, I adopted his thinking, and just this fall, I heard a professor of New Testament from the Divinity School at Wake Forest say that she, too, thinks the 4th Gospel was written for children. That really should not surprise us. Adults are often concerned with secondary questions: What should I wear? What should I eat? How can I earn a living? Children are concerned with primary questions: Where have I come from? Where am I going? What is the real purpose of my life while I am here? Maybe that is why Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, unless you turn, and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 18:3)

Do you remember the old Art Linkletter show, “People Are Funny?” Art Linkletter once asked a panel of children what God was like. One answered, “God is an old man who sits up in heaven and drinks all the Dr. Pepper he wants.” The 4th Gospel provides Children with a better answer. John tells us that God is like the Man Jesus. And Jesus is the good shepherd who cares for his sheep. He is the light of the world, so that we do not have to walk in darkness. He is the way back to God, and to the Father’s house. He is gentle and good, and brave. He loved his enemies and wanted the best for them, even though they hated him, and he loved his friends so much that he sacrificed his life for them, and for us, for he invites us to be his friend.

Children are impressionable. They hear and remember things that adults do not. We must not miss that window of opportunity.

Do you remember how Spinoza said, “Give me a child until he is 7 years old, and I do not care who has him afterward?” He meant that the child’s character, and the trajectory of the child’s life is fixed at that early age. The man we know as “Solomon,” knew what Spinoza was talking about. He wrote: “Train up a child in the way that he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” (Proverbs 22:6).

2. The second stage of learning to read scripture is marked out by the first stage of our participation in the community of faith.

Children watch hours and hours of television every week, wherein they often get the wrong message. Children need the few hours each week of Sunday school, and Bible school, and New Phillies, to learn what is important. This is not burdensome. When I heard Andie and Tarra tell about New Phillies it made me wish I were a pre-teen in our church.

Let’s see how old some of you are. How many of you remember the flannelgraph? It is still around, and I was surprised to learn that the flannelgraph has earned its own entry on Wikipedia. It reads:

The Flannel-graph is a storytelling system that uses a board covered with flannel fabric, usually resting on an easel. The felt is usually painted to depict a background scene appropriate to the story being told. Paper cutouts of characters and objects in the story are backed with something to make them sticky, then placed on the the flannel-graph, and moved around, as the story unfolds.

When I was a boy, flannel-graphs were every bit as common in Moravian Churches as mimeograph machines—(do you remember those?), and water melon feasts in summer (This was in the days before air conditioning). I have never used a flannel graph, but I have seen lots of them used.

One of my favorite flannel graph stories—indeed, one of my favorite Bible stories is the story of “The Prodigal Son,” that Jesus himself told. It features two brothers, or at least the younger brother, and a father, and a house, and some servants, and a fatted calf, and “a far country,” separated from the father’s house by a river. In the story, the boy asks his father for his inheritance, and then crosses the river into the far country, and wastes his money on riotous living. I was never sure what riotous living was, and there were no flannel graph figures to represent it, but I was pretty sure it was fun, but only for a while. For when the prodigal went broke he had to go live with the pigs. Then one morning he was feeding the pigs, and he himself was hungry, and he remembered who he was, and where he had come from, and how nice it was to live in his father’s house. So, he decided to go back home to tell his father how sorry he was, that he had disobeyed God and dishonored him. Saying he was no longer worthy to be called his father’s son, he was going to ask to move in with the hired servants. But his father had been waiting for him. And when he saw him, off in a distance, the father ran to him. And the father called his for his servants. And he told them to bring the best robe and put it on him, and to bring a ring for his finger, and shoes for his feet, and he told them to lay out a feast, because,”My son, who has been dead is alive again.”

I believe that a picture is a worth a thousand words. Teilhard de Chardin the great Catholic philosopher, scientist, and priest used to teach people to think in pictures. He said that some of our best thinkers already did. Way back long before the IBM-PC became popular, IBM used to teach its executives to give speeches using a single sheet of typing paper on which they had drawn pictures representing the points of their speech. Jesus taught in parables like the Prodigal Son because most of us who hear a story see it happening in our heads, even without the benefit of a flannel graph.

Do you know that for sixteen centuries, the Catholic Church was really the only church that there was, and its services were all conducted in Latin, and continued to be until Vatican II in 1964. And, though Gutenberg invented the printing press in 1439, the Bible was published mostly in Latin until after the Protestant Reformation. Luther started the Protestant Reformation in 1517 when he nailed his 95 Theses to the door of Wittenberg Castle. Then the Moravians were the first to translate the Bible into the language of the people, and that work was not published until 1593. (Gutenberg invented the printing press in 1439.) The King James Bible was not published until 1611. So, for almost sixteen centuries, people relied upon the shape of their churches, and the art they contained, to help them remember the stories from the Bible.

Pictures are still important. Not long ago a friend introduced me to a book by Henri Nouwen, the well known Christian author. It is entitled “The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming.” The whole book is about the painting, “The Return of the Prodigal,” painted just two years before his death in 1669 by Rembrandt. It is a wonderful book, filled with faith and devotion from cover to cover, but nothing in it is better than Nouwen’s reaction when he first saw Rembrandt’s painting, in the form of a poster, in a religious community he was visiting. He wrote:

(One day I went to visit a friend). As we spoke my eyes fell on a large poster pinned on her door. I saw a man in a great red cloak, tenderly touching the shoulders of a disheveled boy kneeling before him. I could not take my eyes away. I felt drawn by the intimacy between the two figures, the warm red of the man’s cloak, the golden yellow of the boy’s tunic, and the mysterious light that engulfed them both. But, most of all, it was the hands—the old man’s hands, as they touched the boy’s shoulders that reached me in a place that I had never been reached before.

If a picture, or a story, or a picture-story, like a parable, touches us in a place where we have never been touched before, then we never, ever forget it. It becomes a part of our lives. It changes our lives.

One of the pictures that changed the life of many a child who grew up in Christian homes in the 1950’s was entitled, “The Pilot.” I had one, and so did several of my friends. I think some church must have distributed them. It showed a young man with black wavy hair, with a curl in the middle of his forehead, and blue piercing eyes. He wore a bright red shirt, and you could see his muscles underneath, and he stood on the deck of a ship, with the ship’s wheel balanced carefully in his hands. He was the young man every young boy wanted to grow up to be, and the boy every young girl wanted to grow up to meet. In the picture, the Young Man is surrounded by dark and angry skies, and one knows instinctively that the small ship is being tossed by the sea and the wave. Yet the boy’s face is without fear, for one stands behind him, and that one lays one of his hands upon the boy’s shoulder, and with the other hand, he points the way for the boy to steer his craft through the storm to a safe haven. (Shades of Psalm 139:9-10) The identity of the one who points the way is clear, it is Jesus Christ.

That pictures has never been far out of my mind. It is a source of comfort and challenge.

Long before we can can read the Bible for ourselves, given the right opportunity, we begin to absorb the message of the Bible from the stories we are told, and the pictures we see, and none is more important than story of our life together, and the picture of the Christian life that our parents, and grandparents, and neighbors, show us, daily.

Those of us who are fortunate, remember saying grace at the supper table. We remember hearing a member of the family read to us from the Scripture, or perhaps from the “Daily Text,” or “The Upper Room.” We remember hearing the Christmas Story at the Lovefeast, as we enjoyed “coffee” for the first, leaning into the good smell that came to us as we leaned into the arm of our mothers, or fathers. We remember getting up on Sunday, knowing that were going to church, with no arguments allowed even if we had a book report due on Monday, and that we had not even started to read, “A Tale of Two Cities,” even though it had been assigned more than a month ago.

Daniel Day Lewis recently won the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of Abraham Lincoln. The movie, “Lincoln,” was amazing, but it just scratched the surface of one of our greatest presidents. Lincoln said many memorable things, and the movie included some, but not all. One of Lincoln’s most famous sayings was not in the movie, but it could serve as a guide for parents who want to paint the right picture for their children. Lincoln said, “You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.” We parents and grandparents may fool our children, and grandchildren, some of the time, but we can’t fool them all of the time. If we want them to live a life of faith after they leave our homes, we must be very careful of the picture of faith that we are painting for them and the story of discipleship that we are writing for them while they are still in our homes, and, of course, still in our churches. Children are not nearly as concerned with what we say, as with what we do. That is a picture, and a story.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

The dynamics of hope—sacred or secular, are revealed in Romans 8:24-25:

Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

The ancient Greeks understood the dynamics of hope. You remember the story of Pandora. According to Greek mythology she was the first woman. Zeus gave Pandora a beautiful container with instructions not to open it under any circumstance. Impelled by her curiosity, which had also been given to her by the gods, Pandora opened it, and all evil contained therein escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the container, but the whole contents had escaped, except for one thing that lay at the bottom, the one thing that we really need to make life bearable: hope.

Very few people in the history of the world have believed the story of Pandora to be literally true. Yet, most people would agree about the importance of hope.

Let me give you an example. Some years ago I was asked to serve on a committee to help our local school system define a list of character traits to be taught our children under the umbrella of “Good Citizenship.” A score of us spent hours and hours discussing traits for inclusion on the list. Though we came to it on our own, we finally adopted the same list proposed by our State Legislature in The Student Citizen Act of 1996. The eight traits were all good and desirable:

1. Courage
2. Good Judgment
3. Integrity
4. Kindness
5. Perseverance
6. Respect
7. Responsibility
8. Self-Discipline

As we finalized the list, I suggested that we add one more: Hope. Most of the people in the room knew I was a pastor. I suppose that made them suspicious. Maybe they thought that hope was too “religious.” My suggestion was voted down. However, I had the pleasure of noting that when we stood for the vote, every minority parent and teacher in the room voted with me. They voiced their approval, too. One woman said:

“If our children don’t have some hope of success in school, and some hope for a better life when they have finished school, then nothing else will matter to them.”

She went on to say that many of the youth in our city were well aware that the people who sold hamburgers at the burger joint did not make nearly so much money as the people who sold crack and cocaine in the parking lot behind the burger joint. She said it was a lack of hope that drove our children to drugs and promiscuous sex, and to being drug dealers and gang members. She said it was a lack of hope that led to lives of crime and violence.

And we should not believe for a minute that this epidemic of hopelessness will not enter our houses and touch our children. It will. When a society is sick, it affects everyone.

In his book, The World Is Flat, Hot and Crowded, Thomas Friedman said the same thing on a much larger scale. He said that the Muslims that become Jihadists are those who live in countries where there was no hope for a better life. They choose martyrdom and the hope of Paradise over a life of poverty and hopelessness. He says to defeat the Jihadists; we must give them some hope.

Wow, that is a whole new strategy for the war on terror.

And what about those who are ill? If people believe that their illness is unto death, they either give-up the fight and become despondent, or they reconcile themselves to the inevitable, and make the best of the time they have left. However, if they have a hope of beating the disease, then they fight back, and their attitude helps their doctors help them. I like the new billboard that Baptist Hospital has placed on Business 40 near Stratford Road: A man looks out at the traffic, smiles, and says: “I have cancer, but cancer does not have me.” That is hopeful!

So, I hope you will agree with me that hope is a good thing.

Hope is a good thing, yet false hope and unreasonable expectation cause a lot of necessary pain and anguish.

Last week we were talking about depression. We saw that a major cause of situational induced depression is the gap between what we expect (or hope) to gain from our situation in life and what we actually gain from it.

• A woman hopes a 20% raise and gets 4%. She can’t help but be a little disappointed and discouraged.
• A man hopes to court a woman he has secretly admired for years. Then, one day, she shows up at work with a diamond on her hand, given by a man she has known for a month. Oops! He waited too long! As the bard said, “There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads to greater things; omitted, all the voyage of life is bound in shallows and misery.”
• A lot of people pin a lot of hope on the acquisition of things as the source of happiness. Led Zeppelin sings a song about a woman building “a Stairway to Heaven” out of the things that she buys, absolutely sure that all that glitters really is gold. Led Zeppelin was right—you can’t buy a stairway to heaven. We can buy happiness, but the kind of happiness we buy does not last very long. We buy something new, and we bring it home, and the chocolate wears off, and immediately, we need to buy something else.

Let me say it again, much depression is caused by the gap between what we expect and what we get.

I have a friend, an astute businessman and manager, who once said to me, “Worth, there are three kinds of people in the world: 1) Those who are about as good as they think they are. 2) Those who are better than they think they are. 3) Those who are not as good as they think they are.

It is this third type of person who is constantly disappointed and depressed—because they have given themselves over to unrealistic expectations and false hopes.

Christians can avoid being this third type by searching out themselves before God. In Romans 12:3 St. Paul says:

“Don’t think of yourselves more highly than you ought to think, but think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith which God has assigned to him (or her).”

Speaking of false hope. I would be less than honest if I did not point out that some people think that religious hope is the source of all ills.

In his book, The True Believer, Eric Toffler makes a distinction between “hope that is just around the corner,” which he regards as good, and right, and true, because it often “spurs people to action,” and “hope that lives in the far distant future,” and acts like an opiate in that it robs people of their desire and the ability to act.

Thus a slave tolerates his chains, because he believes that judgment day is coming, and God is going to free him, and enslave his master.

In this, and in other ways Toffler warns against the false hope of “a heavenly reward,” or what many have called, “Pie-in-the-Sky-Bye-and-Bye.”

Let’s explore this idea of a distant hope, and a heavenly reward.

Perhaps some of you have seen the 2009 movie starring Ricky Gervais entitled, “The Invention Of Lying.” The movie is set in an alternative reality were everybody speaks the absolute truth. Then Ricky’s character, Mark, comes along.

Mark invents the lie. At first he uses it to cheat his bank, and to sleep with gullible women, and to make himself rich. Then something really big happens. His mother has a heart attack. When he hears of it, Mark rushes to the hospital. The doctor tells him that his mother is going to die. She is terrified of death. Mark loves his mother so he uses his new talent. Through his tears he tells her that death is the gateway to a joyful afterlife. He describes heaven for her. According to the movie, it is all a lie; but Mark’s mother dies happy, and the doctors and nurses appear awed by this. The word gets out. Soon Mark is a worldwide celebrity. People seek him out in droves. They want to know how he knows about “heaven.” Under pressure from the woman he loves, he tells people that he talks to a “Man in the Sky.” He says that this Man controls everything, and that the Man in the Sky has given him a list of Ten Rules—which he has written down on a pizza box. He says that these Ten Rules promise great rewards in the good place after people die, as long as people do no more than their limit of bad things.

This is the film’s version of religion. It is not a new idea. Nietzsche said that hope (especially religious hope) is the worst of evils, because it prolongs man’s torments. Marx called religion “an opiate for the Masses.” John Lennon asked my generation to imagine a world with “no heaven,” and “no religion, too.” He asked us to “live for today.”

Living for today does not seem like a bad plan for those who have a long future. But what about those who do not? What about those whose eyes have grown dim, and whose “keepers of the house” have started to tremble? What who are nearing that last cloudy day after which the sun will not return? What about those who have moved their tent within easy reach of death and the grave? Are they happy without faith and hope?

In the letter to the Ephesians, the Apostle calls this attitude the state of being “…without God and having no hope.”

From time to time people ask me if the hope that we Christians hope is built upon a lie.

I do not think it is. If ever I did think our faith was built upon a lie, I would come to you and say to you, “Let us quit pretending there is a God.” “Let us leave the church.” “Let us eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” One happy agnostic said that this last statement from Ecclesiastes was a Biblical attitude he could embrace!

Several years ago, when I was on Sabbatical I made it a point to “read the enemy.” I read Bertrand Russell, and Eric Toffler, and Sam Harris, and Richard Dawkins, and several others who say that “God is Not Good,” but just a “Delusion,” a figment of our human imagination, an imaginary friend, a lie, that keeps us from realizing our true human potential.

And I read Schweitzer, whom I admire, though he concluded that Jesus was just a deluded apocalyptic who cast himself on the wheel of human history only to be crushed by it. And I read the literature of the Jesus Seminar especially the work of those members who say that Jesus said only about 10% of what the gospels say he said, and do not believe he is the Son of God who died for our sins and rose again. (This is not true of all the members of the Jesus Seminar.)

Then I studied the scriptures of the Old and New Testament. As always, I sought the truth and followed it where it led. I did not try to iron out the difficulties, or cover up the inconsistencies. I studied the idea of death and the grave. I peered into Sheol and Hades. And then I traced the idea of resurrection and eternal life as it gradually emerged in Job, and the Psalms, and in the Great Prophets. And, of course, I looked carefully at those passages that speak of the death and Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

I came out of that study absolutely convinced that every line in the New Testament was written in the conviction that Jesus of Nazareth was crucified, dead, and buried, and that on the third day, he rose again from the dead. I came to see once more the same grand truth that he is “the first born from the dead that in everything he might have preeminence,” (Colossians 1:18) and that he is “the first fruits of them that have fallen asleep,” and that a great harvest will follow. (1st Corinthians 15) For me, the Resurrection of Jesus is the Great and Unmistakable Sign that God uses to point to our own. “In my Father’s house are many mansions, if it were not so I would have told you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself.” (John 14)

When we gather on the steps of this church on an Easter Morning and proclaim, “The Lord Is Risen”; “The Lord Is Risen Indeed!” it is no lie.

It is no lie. If it were we would not find it on the lips of Paul. He was once known as Saul, a Pharisee, who regarded his righteousness under the Law of God as “blameless,” yet gave it all up that he might know Christ, and the righteousness from God that depends on faith in him, and know the power of his resurrection, becoming like him in his death, that if possible, he might attain to the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3) In 1st Corinthians 15 Paul was so scrupulously honest that he could say:

• If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain….
• (If Christ has not been raised,) then we are even found to be misrepresenting God…
• If Christ has not been raised then all who have fallen asleep in him have perished….
• If for this life only we have a hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.”

I don’t know about you. But I have made my decision. I have bet my life on the Risen Christ. “I rejoice in my hope of sharing the glory of God.” (Romans 5)

Our distant hope is well founded. And what about a hope for something just around the corner? What about hope for our present difficulty? We will talk about that another week, for now let us be sure that we have been “born anew to a living hope.”

If you are young—remember your creator in the days of your youth. (Ecclesiastes 12:1)

If you are old, and have lived a life apart from God—do not despair, remember the dying thief who was on a cross next to Jesus? Jesus promised him that he would join him in Paradise that very day. (Luke 23:43)

If you are full of doubt—remember how the father of the epileptic boy appealed to Jesus saying, “I believe, help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24) If I read the New Testament aright, then God made good use of doubters and late bloomers, people like Paul, and Thomas, and those disciples in Matthew 28:17 who looked into the face of the risen Christ—and “doubted,” or “hesitated,” perhaps because it was impossible to imagine that the Glorious being before their eyes was their Master who had been crucified.

The best thing we can do with our doubts is to lay them at the feet of the Lord of hope.

He will not disappoint us.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

Disclaimer: There are many forms of depression, some are “clinical,” and some are “situational.” This sermon is primarily about situational depression. Depression affects all that we do. It affects our work habits, and our sleep habits, and our eating habits, and our general sense of well-being. One authority described it as the equivalent of experiencing a major grief while also dealing with jet-lag. If that description fits your life, don’t delay, go and see your regular doctor. That visit can be a first step toward recovery. WNG

On any given day, c. 20 million Americans are dealing with depression. 1 in five of us will have an episode in our lifetime. Depression is all around us, and, with apologies to Toys-R-Us on Super Bowl Sunday, sometimes “Depression-Are-US.”

Depression varies in intensity. A minor depression haunts us, and is hard to define. It simply plays games with our sense of well-being. A major depression weighs us down, and prevents the full functioning of all of our powers. It often keeps us from being our own best selves.

There is a good description of both kinds of depression in “The Lord of the Rings Trilogy” by J.R.R. Tolkien.

At the beginning of 1st volume, before going to join the elves, Bilbo Baggins leaves the Ring of Power to his nephew Frodo. He tells Gandalf the Wizard that he feels “thin, like butter spread over too much bread.” He does not know that it is the ring that has sapped his strength.

It then becomes Frodo’s task to carry the ring of Power into the darkness of Mordor, the very home of the Enemy (with a capital “E”). He has to throw it into Mt. Doom, before the Enemy could get it back, and increase his power beyond the power of the world to resist him. As Frodo nears the completion of his task, and starts to climb the mountain, the ring became too heavy for him. He has to be carried part of the way by his dear, though very ordinary friend, Sam. Sam can carry Frodo and the ring easier than Frodo can carry the ring.

If you think that The Lord of the Rings is a silly little story, you ought to know that Tolkien, an Oxford Scholar, was a Christian. He said that the trilogy was not an allegory in the sense that Pilgrim’s Progress is an allegory. He said that he did lift some of the situations in the trilogy right out of scripture. If you can’t appreciate Frodo’s burden, just think about Jesus, too weak to carry the weight of his own cross, as most who were condemned to crucifixion had to do. I am quite sure that Jesus thanked his heavenly father for the help of Simon of Cyrene in carrying his cross up his own Mt. Doom, Golgotha.

In the same way depressed people often stop to thank those members of their family, and those friends who help them to carry the burden that is often impossible to carry alone.

St. Paul said, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,” and people, who help other people, who are depressed, have done that.

What can we do about depression when it affects us, or the people we love? We can fight it. And hopefully, we can whip it. Here is how:

1. First, it is hopeful to note that some depression takes care of itself. “Time heals all wounds,” even mental ones.

I have told you before about the Oriental Potentate who assembled all his sages, and wise men by the score, and said, “I want you to meet until you can give me the best possible advice about any and every situation, and I want you to put it into a single phrase.”

After three days of deliberation a delegation presented the following solution to the Potentate: “This too shall pass!”

Many times in the course of life you are going to outlast and outlive your problems. God will not always deliver you from your problems, but God will deliver you from, or through, a great many of them until you come to “that last cloudy day after which the sun will not shine.” (See Ecclesiastes 11)

It doesn’t matter how dark things are, for most of us the dawn is coming. In fact, it is always darkest just before the dawn. As the Psalmist says, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)

One strategy for beating situational induced depression is to outlast it. And we can make the time pass more quickly by filling it. We can fight depression. Many authorities say that is impossible to be depressed while exercising. I know that when I had depression due to undetected hypothyroidism my run was the most important part of my day. Some morning I did not want to get out of bed—but if I got out of bed, and ran, things got better. Likewise, I was told just this morning that, in his book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie points out that is is impossible to be depressed while serving another.

That is thoroughly biblical. Jesus said, “Whoever seeks to save his life will loose it, but whoever looses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” The gospel is never a private affair. Jesus is not just talking about “eternal life,” he is talking about life, here and now.

When asked the secret of happiness, B.F. Skinner, the father of Behaviorism, quoted Jesus, “Whoever saves his life will loose it, who ever loses his life—in serving something larger than himself, will save it.”

2. The second thing we can do to fight depression is to name the cause of it. “Diagnosis is the first step toward cure.”

I have a friend with a mild form of recurring depression (Dysthymia). He told me that his depression, though caused by a physical condition, is often aggravated by certain events. He told me that if he can identify those events as the immediate cause of his depression, he begins to feel better at once.

Much depression is caused by some kind of change. And change is constant. As the Greek philosopher Heraclitus (c. 475 BC) said, “The only thing that is permanent is change.”

Years ago researchers at the University of Washington put together a “test” to help people evaluate how well we are coping with change. They have assigned a number of Life Change Units (LCU’s) to the major crises that we must all face, sooner or later. Let me share a few examples.

• If a person looses a spouse to death they get 100 LCU’s. If they loose another close member of their family they get 63 LCU’s. If you loose a close friend to death, they get 37 LCU’s. And, of course, “there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.” We get 63 LCU’s when we loose him or her.
• If a person looses a spouse to divorce they get 73 LCU’s. That is the second highest number of LCU’s we can get. People can’t help death. People can help divorce. Divorce causes much pain, spread all around. That is why the Bible takes it so seriously, and why it is always a difficult option, especially for Christians.
• If one suffers a major injury or illness one receives 53 LCU’s. No argument here. Nothing is scarier than learning we have cancer, or heart failure. Nothing is more difficult to live with, at first, than the loss of one’s sight, or mobility, or ability to care for one’s self.
• And what about work, or lack of it? If you get promoted, you get 29 LCU’s. If you change jobs, you get 36 LCU’s. If we get fired, or downsized, or laid off, we get 47 LCU’s.
• During a recession, or a depression, the number of LCU’s that individuals accumulate in the society at large turns an economic crisis into an emotional one. One of the great things that Franklin Delano Roosevelt did to lead this country out of the Great Depression was to put hope back into our hearts. “The Only thing we have to fear,” he said, “is fear itself.”
• We have talked about getting LCU’s for the bad things that happen to us. You may be surprised to learn that we get LCU’s for some of the good stuff, too.
• If you go on vacation, or take a long trip for business reasons, give yourself 15 LCU’s.
• If you get married, you get 50 LCU’s. I suspect bigger weddings, that cost thousands and thousands of dollars can add to that total.
• If you buy a new house with a mortgage of at least $10,000—this is an old test, you get 35 LCU’s. I suspect that mortgages are like weddings, the bigger the mortgage, the more LCU’s you earn.
• Are you pregnant? That is worth 40 LCU’s, and when the baby is born, you get another 39 LCU’s. If you have a son or daughter move out of the house, and spread their wings, and fly right off your payroll, you get 29 LCU’s. If a son or daughter moves back home, or if you adopt a child, or you move an aging parent into your home. You get 39 LCU’s.

What am I saying? We are creatures of habit. Virtually all Life Change’s bring some degree of stress and anxiety and depression, and all of the stuff that races at us at 70 miles an hour is cumulative.

The researchers at the University of Washington say that if we accumulate 150-199 LCU’s we are in for a Minor Life Crisis. If we accumulate 200-299 LCU’s we are in for a Moderate Life Crisis. If we accumulate more than 300 LCU’s we are in for a Major Life Crisis with Emotional and Physical dimensions.

Some people will say, “I am a Christian. I don’t have to worry about that. The scripture says that God will not give me a burden to big to bear.” Actually, the scripture that most people think says that does not say that at all. In 1st Cor. 10:13 we read:

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

God does help us bear our burdens. The whole of scripture witnesses to that, but Christians cannot always escape depression. It is as common among us as among the members of any population.

Let’s get back to those life change units. I suspect these numbers affect families, and churches, and schools, and the places we work, just as they affect individuals.

They are cumulative. That means that the students and children at Sandy Hook. Elementary accumulated more than 800 LCU’s because of the fellow students and teachers that they lost. That means that some of us here at New Philly accumulated a huge number of LCU’s because we were close to more than a few of the 19 members that we lost to death last year. The bigger the family, the bigger the grief.

All this sounds pretty hard. But remember, “Diagnosis is the first step toward cure.” Once we name the cause of our depression, things start getting better.

In his book, The Road Less Traveled, Scott Peck says, “Life is hard! But the moment we know that life is hard, life is less hard, because we know that life is hard.”

That is profound. Much depression is caused by the gap between our expectations for any given situation, and what we actually get out of any given situation. If we know that life is hard, we expect less, and that helps us cope.

What I am telling you is absolutely in harmony with the collective wisdom of the New Testament. As we read in 1st Peter 4:12:

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you.

He goes on to say that it is happening to our brothers and sisters everywhere. And else where he says, “Christ suffered in the flesh, therefore arm yourselves with the same thought.” (1st Peter 4:1)

Let me say it one more time: “Life is hard! But the moment we know that life is hard, life is less hard, because we know that life is hard.” The bottom line is that life is a series of crises that must be managed, and the happiest people are those who learn to deal with those crises as realistically as possible.

3. There is a third step to whipping depression. Introduce a little hope.

In Romans 5—which is almost an outline for Romans 8, St. Paul writes:

1 Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.

Now notice what is going on here.

“We are justified by faith in Christ.” Through him we have obtained access to the marvelous grace and unmerited favor of God. “Forgiveness is the most therapeutic idea in the world and we have it.” More importantly, “forgiveness is primarily about the restoration of the relationship between us and God.”

“We rejoice in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” Even facing death, we have something to look forward to, what Christ has already achieved at the right hand of the Father is our future, too.

“More than that…we rejoice in our sufferings?” What? Why? Because suffering produces endurance. When we suffer, and come through it, or rise above it, we become stronger, more able to endure.

“And endurance produces character.” At the very least it reveals character. Think about those people you admire. They are not those who have achieved through no effort—but those who have endured, and achieved through great effort. A hero is an overcomer.

“And character produces hope.” That is it! If we have hope, we can whip depression. We can take on life, and death, and we can whip them both!

“And hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” That is it. We never walk alone. God is with us, in our suffering and sorrow, and in our joy, in life and in death.

After I preached the first sermon on depression, a physician came up to me and said, “I wish you would say something about depression and end of life issues.” Five minutes later, Pat _________ said to me, “I thought you might mention Cecil.” I told her that I would not without her permission, and she immediately gave it.

Let me tell you about Cecil. He was a wonderful friend and a great guy. He worked with the legendary “Field Engineers” of Western Electric, and AT&T. He went to sea with the Navy. He laid cable. He tested equipment. He was also an avid car collector, and absolutely faithful to the worship of this church.

Cecil had stomach cancer. It was a blow. His father had died of it, as had his brother. He had asked his doctor to watch him for it, but his doctor had told him that he had nothing to fear. Then he was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and they took out most of his stomach. It was a doubly cruel blow. He became depressed. When I went to see him at Forsyth Hospital, the depression in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. This went on for several weeks. Then Cecil said to me, “Worth, I can live with dying. I am a Christian, I am not afraid of death. What I can’t life with is this terrible depression. Let’s pray that God will lift it.” We did. I am sure that other people took other measures, especially his doctor whom he trusted. Other people prayed. By the end of the month, the depression had lifted. I don’t think Cecil ever ate another full meal in the 15 months or so that he lived after that, but I do know that he never again dropped down into that deep depression. He was able to enjoy his dear wife, Pat, and his family, and his friends. He even busied himself with preparing for a car show. I do know that he was surrounded with love, and with hope, and I gained spiritual strength during my visits with him.

I shall never forget a visit I made to him very near then end of his life. He had wasted away to skin and bone. He was very weak. He was in a bed on his back porch. When he saw me, he stood up, and took a few steps, and opened his arms wide, and embraced me. I hugged him right back. I was not ashamed. I felt the love, and the hope, and the faith. Immediately I was reminded of a word by the great Catholic theologian, Henry Nouen, “the dying are a sacrament in the world.” They communicate God to us. And Cecil did communicate God to me.

This all puts me in mind of Romans 81-39. I encourage you to click the link in the last sentence and read it all, but the final words of the chapter are particularly meaningful.

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 36 As it is written, “For thy sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” 37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

This is the first of several sermons on this subject.

I want to talk to you about depression. A neuropsychiatrist from UCLA says that, “If you want to imagine what depression feels like—just imagine that you have jet lag, combined with an overwhelming grief.”

A major depression occurs daily for more than two weeks—sometimes a lot longer. Symptoms include:

• Poor appetite and weight lost, or increased appetite and weight gain.
• Sleep problems, whether too much or two little
• Restlessness or sluggishness
• Loss of interest in or pleasure in one’s usual activities, including work
• A decreased sex drive
• Feelings of worthlessness and/or guilt
• Problems with concentration or memory
• Thoughts of death, including thoughts of suicide, or wishing one was dead

Some people think that depression is special hell reserved for a troubled few.

This is not so. Depression affects a great many people. Some have suggested that we already live in “an Age of Melancholy.” On any given day some form of depression—from major to minor, affects c. 20 million Americans. One study projects 50% of Americans with major depression go untreated, and only 21% get the properly accepted treatment. The World Health Organization says that by the year 2020, depression will rank second only to heart disease as a disabler of persons. In America It already ranks first among women and fourth overall. One in five people will experience a major depression in our lives.

Depression has a number of causes.

People are often depressed when we think we have lost something—a promotion at work, a job, an investment, almost anything one perceives to be of great value.

Today, many Baby Boomers are depressed over the loss of youth. The loss of youth is harder on our generation than it was on our parents generation. We were reared in a pop-culture that has idolized youth and beauty, and youth and beauty fade with the years. We are reminded of it each time we look in the mirror. Speaking of youth and beauty. It was my pleasure to know Mary Frances Sides’ father, the late Gaither Transou. Mr. Transou told me a joke I will never forget. He was in hospital. He said, “Worth there are only three kinds of people in the world, the good, the bad, and the ugly. If you want to know what kind you are, just look in the mirror.” At first I did not get it. I had already walked out of his room and down the hall before it hit me that one cannot tell if one is good or bad by looking in a mirror!

The culture of youth and beauty is even worse in the emerging generations. The youth of today worship the body, but few have the body image that they want. No wonder depression is striking at a younger and younger age, effecting teenagers and preteens.

People are often depressed when they lose someone that they love.

This is perfectly natural. The Bible never teaches that people of faith will not grieve. Rather, in 1st Thessalonians 4:13 we read that “we do not grieve as those who have no hope.” (1st Thess. 4:13)

One of my favorite movies is “Shadowlands,” staring Anthony Hopkins as C.S. Lewis, the great Christian theologian who taught at Oxford in England, and Debora Wringer, as Joy Davidson, the American divorcee who fell in love with him. Lewis first married Joy Davidson at her suggestion, so that she could legally remain in England. At first it was a marriage of convenience, then Lewis fell head over heels in love with Davidson. Then they discovered that she had a terrible cancer, one that would claim her life. In one scene they have driven into the English countryside to find “The Golden Valley.” They know it from a picture that has hung in Lewis’s house since he was a boy. They have looked for it, and found it. There, in the Golden Valley, Lewis anticipates his grief. He weeps. He tells Joy Davidson through his tears that he does not know what he will do when she is gone. She responds saying, “The grief you will feel for me after I am gone, will be but an extension of the love you feel for me now.” That is profound. It may take time to get over the loss of someone that we love. Many things are made better by the passage of time, but eventually a Christian discovers that his or her tears are not just bitter, and hopeless, they are bitter-sweet, because they remember the good, and they are filled with the prospects of a brighter tomorrow, in a land where there is no death, and no tears, and no sunset, and no dawning, but only the Eternal Light and Life of God.

Depression can be mental. It can be caused by something that happened long ago, that torments us not just consciously, but unconsciously.

In his book, Prince of Tides, Pat Conroy tells the story of a man who was the victim of a violent homosexual rape when he was just a little boy. He managed to bury it deep in his sub-concious. It was only after his marriage started falling apart that he turned to a therapist who helped him to uncover the deep cause of his depression. (Yep, there is more, but the more is not relevant to our discussion.)

In the past, on several occasions, I have known people who were abused as children or as young adults—in a range of ways. Some of these people buried the abuse for years, sometimes hiding it under layers of depression. Sometimes, their empathy for others in a similar situation forced them into therapy and into healing. Sometimes, they were shocked into remembering by something in their own lives. In either case, they started to unpack the long, heavy bag that our shadow selves drags behind us. I say “us,” for all of us put things that we find unpleasant away if we can. Depression can be mental.

Depression can be a result of stress.

Stress comes from living life at a pace that is better suited to the machines that should serve us than to the human beings that we are. I often fear that our lives are losing a human scale.

Let me tell you a story about culture shock. Some years ago I visited Sam and Lorena Gray in Ahuas, Hondouras. At that time, there were no roads and only two vehicles in the area, a tractor, and a jeep with no brakes. One night, after supper, and after a wonderful hymn sing with some of Sam’s students, I sat on the porch of Sam and Lorena Gray’s house and watched a man approach across the plain for ten minutes. He traveled several hundred yards. When he reached Sam’s gate, he threw up his hand in greeting and smiled. I returned his greeting. Then I watched for ten minutes more as he walked out of sight. Two weeks later, I returned to civilization in a small airplane. That did not shock me, in an airplane everything on the ground moves in slow motion. Then, I arrived in Tegucigalpa and got into a taxi. Suddenly, everything was moving so fast that I thought I was caught in a Keystone Cops movie. Everything was going 100 miles an hour. I experienced culture shock, and the culture that shocked me was my own.

Pastors have an unusual amount of stress. The average person maintains 40 close relationships. A pastor, especially a pastor in a large church, often feels as if she or he is maintaining hundreds of close relationships, or none. We are constantly a part of people’s lives during times of crisis, yet, except for weddings and baptisms, and an occasional birthday or anniversary celebration, we are seldom a part of their lives in the good times. Perhaps you find yourself in a similar situation. It is so easy for people in our world to lose life on a human scale.

Here is a bonus for those of you who are reading this: Researchers say that much of the worst long-term damage from depression can be linked to cortisol, a stress hormone. It is harmless in small doses, but ravages the body when pumped continuously into the system by depression or anxiety. It can rob us of our energy, our mobility, our sex drives, our memory, and (mark this well) our ability to feel basic human emotions. Some years ago a man came to me and said, “I no longer feel anything for my wife, my mother, my father, or my children. I used to lie awake at night and cry about this, but I have lost the capacity for tears.” He reminded me of the hero in Camus’s The Stranger, who is convicted of murder, largely because he had lost the capacity to feel basic human emotions. Perhaps the author was depressed? How could he not be. He once defined hell as “other people.”

Depression can be physical. Depression can be cause by a chemical imbalance in the body.

There are all kinds of chemical imbalances that affect us, some easier to identify and easier to treat than others.

I had an episode of depression when I lived for an extended period of time with hypo-thyroidism before it was discovered. I know what it is to depressed, and I know what it is to get help. It was my friend, the late Dr. F.I. Dorsett who discovered my problem. He visually diagnosed what several specialists were unable find with a battery of the wrong tests. Then he ran the right test, and I was feeling better within a couple of weeks.

Depression can also be caused by many of the things that we think of as symptoms:

• Improper diet,
• Inadequate rest
• Lack of exercise
• An extended illness, or a constant pain

I read recently that, in America, back-pain is a leading cause of depression.

Left untreated depression can contribute to an early death.

Depression can adversely affect the course and outcome of common chronic conditions, such as arthritis, asthma, cardiovascular disease, cancer, diabetes, and obesity. Depression is one cause of suicide. Other depressed people allow themselves to dissipate gradually, over a period of years. The mention of “gradual dissipation,” reminds me that depression can also be a spiritual condition.

Depression can be spiritual. Now let us issue a word of caution here. Some religious people think that depression is caused by sin. This is not always so.

Some scholars have suggested that St. Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” may have been depression brought on by a combination of factors—poor eyesight, stress, an anxiety over the churches that drove him through “many a sleepless night,” competition with the “superlative apostles;” and, above all, the fact that his kinsmen, his race, had largely rejected Jesus, whom Paul absolutely, positively knew to be the Messiah. (Read 2nd Corinthians 11-12, 1st Corinthians 15 and Romans 9-11).

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the great 19th Century English Baptist, who has been called “the prince of preachers,” suffered from depression most of his adult life. He treated his illness by smoking big, fat, Havana Cigars. His depression did not stop him from becoming one of the great Evangelists of the 19th Century.

It may even have enhanced his effectiveness. As Paul himself learned, “God’s strength is made perfect in human weakness.” (2nd Corinthians 12:9)

And what about Abraham Lincoln? Lincoln had every right to be depressed. His election divided the country, north and south. His law clerk from Illinois was the first Union Officer to be killed during the Civil War. He was killed in Washington City when he went into a place of business to take down a Confederate flag. Lincoln lost his younger son to a terrible illness. His wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, was depressed, and her depression made life hard for the President. His older Son, Robert, longed to be in the war, over his parent’s objections. At the height of the Civil War, Lincoln said, “If the misery I feel was equally divided among every member of the human race, there would not be a single smiling face among us.” Lincoln, too, had a right to be depressed.

Not all depression is caused by individual sin, but some of it is.

In Psalm 32, the Psalmist, reported to be David himself, writes:

3 When I declared not my sin, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.

David surprised his servants when he was able to recover so quickly after the death of his son. He rationalized his recovery saying, “He will not return to me; I will go to him.” David had much more difficulty overcoming his sin, which included his adultery with Bathsheba, and his murder of Uriah, the husband of Bathsheba.

David did not overcome his depression until he confessed his sin. Psalm 32 continues:

5 I acknowledged my sin to you, O, Lord, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD”; then you forgave the guilt of my sin.

Some years ago I had a young man in my congregation whose depression was so bad that he dropped out of college and committed himself to a mental hospital. In the course of his stay, I visited him. In conversation, I discovered that he was deeply ashamed of and burdened with certain sins he had committed. I said to him, “Listen, ‘Jesus Christ bore our sins in his body on the cross.’ As a Christian, you will always remember your sins, but you must remember them like they happened to someone else.”

He asked me to repeat what I had said. Then he asked me to write it down. Some weeks later he was back at home. Six months after came to see me in my new church. He handed me an index card. On it was written, “I remember my sins, but I remember them like they happened to someone else.”

After coming to the pastorate here, I started to reread a book given my by the late Bishop Herbert Spaugh when I was at The Little Church on the Lane. It was Religion, Psychology and Healing by the late Leslie Weatherhead, the great British Methodist. I read how he said, “Forgiveness is the most therapeutic idea in the world.” Then I went to Forsyth hospital to make a call. I stepped into an elevator with a doctor wearing a badge that indicated he worked in mental health. I spoke to him saying, “Doctor, I just read that “Forgiveness is the most therapeutic idea in the world.” Would you agree?” His face lit up. He responded, “Yes, yes, that is it, forgiveness is the most therapeutic idea in the world, but just you try and get one of my patients to forgive themselves.”

That would be an impossible task. We can’t forgive ourselves. It is not in us, but we can turn to God who wishes very much to do so!

This sermon is the first of several sermons on depression. If you have read it, and think yourself depressed do two things right away:

First, place yourself in the hands of God. Jesus said, “Come unto me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” The burden of depression is one of the heaviest we carry. I know he cares.

Second, and this comes from my personal experience, get yourself to a medical doctor right away. Tell your doctor about your problem. He or she can help you to form a plan for your recovery.

I am praying for you.

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

The Sweetest Sound on Earth
Isaiah 43:1-7

In my thinking Sunday’s sermon, “Just Missed.” I got so excited at where part of the text led that I failed to do justice to the whole. At 9:00 a.m. I even made two hasty statements that I immediately wanted to correct. I am grateful that I serve a congregation that lovingly helped me make corrections to those statements before preaching again at 11:10 a.m. This sermon contains the changes necessary to right the aforementioned wrongs. I love this text, I only wish I could do it justice!

The text of Isaiah 43 declares that God created Israel, formed Israel, redeemed Israel, and named Israel. Today, without neglecting the whole, I want to pay special attention to names and naming.

Israel’s beginning or birth can be traced a single individual. God called a man named Abram to leave his country, his kindred, and his father’s house, and promised that he would receive a land, a seed, and a blessing. Abram believed God, and went out not knowing where he was going, and God reckoned that faith to him as righteousness saying:

“Behold, my covenant is with you….no longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.

In the Bible names are often indicative of a person’s character and station in life, and where there was a change of character, or a change in station, the person often receives a new name.

Therefore it does not surprise us that Abraham’s wife, Sarai, also received a new name. I am not sure of what Sarai means, but God changed her name to Sarah, which means “Princess.” God made Abraham mighty prince. Perhaps God wanted Abraham to be married to a princess. Abraham and Sarah had their ups and downs, but Abraham was always happier when he treated Sarah like the princess God intended her to be.

The God promised Abraham and Sarah a son. When he arrived they named him Isaac. Isaac is the exception that proves the rule. He alone of the three patriarchs I will tell you about this morning lives and dies with the same name. The name “Isaac” means “he will laugh.” But who will laugh? Is it God who will laugh because God made Abraham a father at 100 and Sarah a mother at 90? Did God think that a fine Joke? Or is it Isaac himself who will laugh because of the good life that he inherits from his father?

My own father once preached a masterful sermon on Isaac. He said, “Isaac is the dullest man in the Bible.” He let that sink-in. Then he continued. “Isaac is the dullest man in the bible because the most exciting thing he ever did was to pitch a tent.” My dad then went on to point out that Isaac had the good sense to pitch that tent in God’s camp.

A great many people live life on the edge. They have one foot in God’s camp, and one foot in the world’s camp, and they limp along with two opinions, or, worse yet, they hop from one foot from the other. They are unsettled and unsettling. They go from crisis to crisis and from disappointment to disappointment. The only hope they have is to settle down, and quit limping, and quit hopping, and pitch their tent in God’s camp.

Isaac had twin sons, Esau and Jacob. The name Esau means “hairy.” The name Jacob means, “to follow.” Esau was born first, but Jacob grabbed Esau’s heel as he was born. Perhaps he already trying to hold back his brother, and get ahead of him as he did later in life. The stories about Jacob are painfully honest even if Jacob is not. When Esau was hungry, Jacob bought his birthright with a bowl of pottage. Then, when Isaac was old and blind, Jacob stole  the blessing that was due his older brother. Perhaps you remember that story. Esau was a hairy man. Jacob was a smooth man. So Jacob’s mother put the skin of a kid on the backs of his hands, and on the back of his neck, in order to deceive Isaac.

Brothers have killed one another over less. In the case of Jacob and Esau they simply went their separate ways. Jacob sojourned with his father’s mother, Laban. Esau stayed in the land. Both got rich. Then God told Jacob to return to the land of his father, the land of promise, and he knew he would have to face Esau. He had two wives, and a large family, and flocks and herds. And he sent them all ahead of him, in stages, in hopes that Esau would spare him. The caravan crossed the ford of the Jabbok and Jacob alone remained on the safe side of the river. Night fell, but Jacob did not sleep. He wrestled through the night with the Angel of the Lord. Whether they know it or not, when people say that they “wrestle with God in prayer,” this is the incident that informs their speech. Anyway, at the break of day the Angel commands Jacob to let him go. Jacob replies, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” The Angel of the Lord—who is revealed as the LORD God himself, blesses Jacob, and gives him a new name saying:

“Your name shall no more be called Jacob—(the follower!), but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.” (Genesis 32:28)

Jacob quits being “the one who follows.” He quits shielding himself with his wives and families. In accordance with the Proverb sends a gift ahead “to make room for him,” (Proverbs 18:16) but he puts himself out in harms way, he finds his brother and they make peace.

Jacob had twelve sons, and the twelve tribes of Israel trace their roots to the twelve sons of Israel. And all of those sons had names that were filled with meaning, too. Let me give you just a few examples: Reuben was Jacob’s first son. His name means, “Look—a Son!” In the same way, Gad means “Fortune;” Asher means “Happy;” and Judah means “Praise.” The name Joseph means, “The Increaser” or “One Who Increases.” That name certainly describes Joseph’s career in Egypt. He rose from the slavery into which his brother’s sold him, and from the darkness of a prison cell, to a position second only to Pharaoh himself, increasing not only his fortune but Pharaoh’s, too.

All this talk about the descriptive characteristic of names gives rise to a question: Can a name serve as a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Are girls with pretty names like Sue, or Emily, or Ann,  fated to be more popular than girls named Griselda, or Henrietta? My mother is named Henrietta, and she considers it a life sentence. Are boys named Wolfgang and Amadeus destined to be musicians, and boys named, or nicknamed, Rocky, or Butch, or Buster destined to become fighters and football players?

Can we use the power of naming to carve out an advantage for those we name?

I once traveled with the late Bishop George Higgins to his farm in the mountains of North Carolina. During that visit, the Bishop spoke of a creative tradition practiced in the mountains. He said that if a boy was born unusually small, or sickly, or with some obvious deformity, the family would often give him a powerful name, like Captain, or Major, or Colonel. Later that afternoon, as if he were expected, a man named Colonel, dropped by for a visit. I knew immediately why Bishop Higgins had spoken to us about the power in a name. Colonel struggled to remember where he lived, but many times each day he was greeted by those who knew him, and each greeting was an affirmation. “Hello, Colonel.” “How are you today, Colonel?” “We are having fine weather today, Colonel?”

It can go the other way, too. My name is “Worth.” It is from the old English—it means, “from the farmstead.” It is not a name I would have chosen for myself, but it is a proud name, with a proud history. The first Naval officer to be killed in action in the Spanish American War was an Ensign from Raleigh, N.C., named Worth Bagley. Worth is a proud name, but my fourth grade teacher did not understand that. She loved to call me, “Worthless”; and, each time she did, my classmates laughed. And soon they called me “Worthless,” too, always smiling, always grinning like they were the first to do so. Though I really liked that teacher, if she were still around today, I would really give her a talking to for stealing my self-confidence, for I did not regain it for years after I left her class.

Names like all speech by adults directed to children tend to become self-fulfilling prophecy.

Jesus certainly made a big deal of a name. He called James and John “sons of thunder,” (Mark 3:17) and he changed Simon’s name to “Cephas” “Petros,” or “Peter” which all mean “Rock,” saying, “On this Rock I will build my church.” (Matthew 16:18) But let us return to our text.

God created the people of Israel when God called the patriarchs, Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob to go out in God’s name.

God formed and shaped the people of Israel when He used Moses to deliver them out of slavery, and to give them the law, and lead them through the wilderness, to the borders of the Promised Land. God redeemed Israel, from slavery and sin, even as he formed Israel.

All this history informs our text.

When the text of Isaiah 43 declares, “when you pass through the waters, I will be with you,” the reader cannot but remember how God enabled Moses to led the children of Israel through waters of the Great Sea as on the dry ground.

And when the text of Isaiah 43 declares, “I give Egypt as your ransom… Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you,” the reader cannot help but think of how the waters of the Great Sea rushed in to destroy the Armies of Egypt.

It is in creating Israel, and forming Israel, and redeeming Israel that God calls Israel by name. The name Israel means “these are they who have striven against men, and with God and prevailed.” What was true of the man Israel was true of the people Israel.

I think one of the reasons that God choose Israel from among the nations, and supported them against the enemies that would have destroyed them is that, despite their self-professed and frequent failures to keep the Covenant, there was always a remnant that remained faithful. God gave peoples in exchange for Israel because God had a very special purpose for the nation. They were his witnesses! It is for this reason that God delivered them, and promised to deliver them in future, from the fire, and the flood, preserving them for God’s own purpose. St. Paul, a Jew himself, understood this special relationship. He speaks of them saying:

4 They are Israelites, and to them belong the sonship, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; 5 to them belong the patriarchs, and of their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ. God who is over all be blessed forever. Amen. (Romans 9:4-5)

I cannot close this sermon without pointing out that there is a text in the New Testament that parallels Isaiah 43, at least in part. In Revelation 2:17 God speaks to the church at Pergamum, and to all who hear the prophecy, and promises us a new name saying:

“To him who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it.”

This text contains three powerful images.

1. First, the mention of “manna” recalls for the contemporary reader how God preserved Israel in the wilderness, and fed her when she was hungry upon food from heaven. Manna is no more. The manna, like the Holy Communion reminds us that God is our Savior. Now it is “hidden,” but it will be a part of the heavenly banquet of those who conquer.
2. Second, the mention of the “white stone” recalls for the reader a scene from the Roman Courts. When a prisoner was tried and found guilty, he was given a black stone. When he was found innocent, he was given a white stone. God declares those that serve God and trust in the righteousness of God’s Christ are “innocent” or their sins.
3. Third, the mention of a new name that no one knows except God, and the one who receives it, gives each of us hope that our character and our fate are now in our own hands. We no longer live into the name that does not fit. We are no longer victims of sin, and circumstance. We no longer become what others make us. We are free men and women in Christ. Each of us is free to become the very best version of ourselves, even if we have rarely seen that person before. Each of us is free to become the person that God has always believed we can be. For God believes in us even before we believe in him.

Of course, we bear another name, too. We bear the name of God, and of God’s Christ. We are called “Christians.” In Isaiah 43 God speaks to the people of Israel and to us through them saying:

5 Fear not, for I am with you….I am with every one who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”

I had an elementary school teacher who taught us that there is no sweeter sound on earth than the sound of one’s own name. There is one sweeter reality, to know the name by which God calls those who conquer, a name that reflects a new character and a new situation.”

Let me leave you with a question: If you could choose a new name for yourself, according to the character and circumstances you desire, what would it be?

Finis

Worth Green, Th.M., D.Min.

The picture is of a little girl clapping as her Birthday Cake arrives covered with candles, and her friends are singing “Happy birthday, to you. Happy birthday, to you. Happy birthday dear,_______. Happy birthday to you.