December 4, 2022
Isaiah
40.1-11; Mark 1.1-8
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One thing we often hear about if any of us have been Christians for any period
of time is the big question:
What
must one do to be saved?
Because
many of us who believe really do have a fear of hell and eternal damnation,
especially those of us who came from churches that preached those things on a
regular basis.
Now,
in many churches, we heard that all one had to do to gain heaven and glorious
eternity was make this simple statement: I accept Jesus Christ as my personal
Lord and Savior.
The
rest of us, who didn’t make this statement in those exact words, were in deep
trouble.
Now,
on some level, that makes some sense.
It
seems simple.
If
someone doesn’t accept Christ, then Christ should
turn his back on those who didn’t accept him.
After
all, we would turn our backs on those who would not accept us, right? .
And
there should be a place where we had to pay for the wrongs we did.
We
simply can’t sin and expect not to pay for it in some way, right?
But
certainly for me, in my own spiritual life, as I grew into my relationship with
God, as I tried to follow Jesus as faithfully as I could, and as I started to
look long and hard at everything I have believed, I realize that there is one
thing those people who believe that way have missed.
It
was one simple little word:
Grace.
Now,
my very simplistic definition of grace is this:
Grace
is a gift we receive from God that we neither ask for nor necessarily deserve.
In
the Gospel we heard this morning, we hear the echoing words of John the
Baptist.
The one who is
more powerful than I is coming after me;
He
is that lone voice calling to us in the wilderness.
It
is a voice of hope.
It
is a voice of substance.
It
is a voice of salvation.
More
importantly, John’s message is a message of Grace.
This
powerful One is coming!
There’s
no avoiding it.
God
is coming to us.
God
is sending some one to us—someone powerful, someone appointed and chosen by
God.
This
is the ultimate grace in a very real sense.
Although
we have been hoping for God to come to us and save us, it is not something that
we have necessarily asked for or deserve.
God
comes to us in God’s own time.
It
is this one fact—grace—that makes all the difference in the world.
It
is what makes the difference between eternal life and eternal damnation.
Now,
there are those who believe that there is an eternal hell.
And
if you’re not right with God, they say, that’s exactly where you’re going.
The
fault in this message is simple: none of us are right with God.
As
long as we are on this side of the veil, so to speak, we fall short of what God
wants for us.
We
have all sinned and we will all sin again.
That’s
the fact.
But
that’s where grace comes in.
Grace
is, excuse my language, the trump card.
Grace
sets us free.
Grace
involves one simple little fact that so many Christians seem to overlook.
And
this is the biggest realization for me as a follower of Jesus:
Just because one doesn’t
accept God or God’s anointed Christ doesn’t mean that God of God’s Christ doesn’t
accept us.
God
accepts us.
Plain
and simple.
Even
if we turn our backs on God.
Even
if we do everything in our limited powers to separate ourselves from God, the
fact of the matter is that nothing
can separates from God and God’s love.
God
accepts every single person—no matter what we believe, or don’t believe, no
matter if God is some abstract concept to us or a close, personal friend.
That’s
right, I did say “personal.”
Because,
yes, it’s wonderful and beautiful to have a personal relationship with God and
with Jesus.
Our
personal relationship with God and with Jesus is essential to our faith, as you
have heard me say many, many times.
But
the fact is, neither God nor Jesus is the personal
savior to any one of us in this place.
God
saves all of us, equally.
That is grace.
That
is how much God loves us.
Now,
I have preached this message my entire adult life as a Christian, and certainly
as priest.
And,
as you can imagine, there have been, shall we say, a few critics of my unabashed
and unapologetic universalism.
And
some of these critics—actually quite a few of these critics—have been quite
vocal.
In
fact, I once preached this very same message one evening not long after I was
ordained to the priesthood in a very diverse venue of what I thought were
somewhat progressive Lutherans.
Later,
I learned, I was essentially blackballed from that venue for that sermon.
I
also preached it once at another congregation, at which I was a guest.
After
I preached it, the presider at the service actually got up and “corrected” my
sermon in front of everybody.
Critics
of this message say that what I am talking about is cheap grace.
Cheap
grace?
No,
I counter.
And
I still counter!
Again
and again.
No,
not cheap grace.
It’s
actually quite expensive grace.
It
was grace bought at quite a price.
And
no, I’m not being naïve or fluffy here.
Trust
me, I have known some truly despicable people in my life.
I
have been hurt by some of these people and I have seen others hurt by these
people.
And
I have felt angry over the pain these people have caused in my life and in
those lives of others.
The
world is full of people who are awful and terrible.
Or
people who do really dumb or foolish things that hurt others.
And
sometimes the most awful and terrible person we know is the one staring back at
us in our own mirrors.
But
the fact is, that even when we can’t love them or ourselves, when we can’t do
anything else but feel anger and hatred toward them, God does love them.
God
accepts them, just as God accepts each of us.
God
doesn’t necessarily accept their actions. God doesn’t accept their sins, or
their failings, or their blatant embrace of what is wrong.
God
doesn’t accept the pain they’ve inflicted on others.
But,
not even those things can separate them from Christ’s love.
Nothing
can separate us from God’s love and from God’s promise to eternal life.
That
is how God works in this world.
That
is why God sent this Christ, this Messiah, this Child of God, to us.
I
believe in that image we hear from our reading from the prophecies of Isaiah
today:
[God]
will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and
carry them in his bosom,
We
will be gathered up by our God, and we will be carried into our God’s bosom.
I
love that image!
Because
it conveys God’s true and abiding love for us.
It’s
a hard concept for those us who were taught otherwise.
But
I do believe it.
I
believe it because of the personal relationship I have with God.
The
God I have come to know and to love and to serve is simply that full of love.
So,
do I believe we’re all going to heaven when we die?
Well,
yes.
I
really do believe that.
Why?
Because,
the love of God is just that big.
It
is just that wonderful and just that all-encompassing.
It
is just that powerful.
If
one person is in some metaphysical, eternal hell for being a despicable person,
then, you know what? the love of God has
failed.
Something
has, in fact, come between that person and God.
I
do not believe that hell or Satan or sin or the Church or anything else is big enough to separate us fully and completely
from God.
Not
even we, ourselves, can turn our backs on God because wherever we turn, God is
there for us.
So,
listen.
In
this Advent season of hope, John’s voice
is calling to us from the wilderness.
He
is saying,
Listen
God’s
anointed is near.
God’s
messiah, the Christ, is coming to us.
Let
us go out, in wonderful, beautiful grace, to meet him!
Let
us pray.
Loving
God, come to us. Send us your power, send us your glory. Send us your grace. And
let us know that no matter how often we may turn our backs on you, you have
never once turned your back on us. You have always been with us and remain with
us. And that nothing in all the world can separate us from you and your
incredible love. For this, we are truly thankful today. In the name of your
anointed, Jesus. Amen.
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