Taking Us Back
Let me set the stage for you, Let’s go back and listen to these words as Max Lucado speaks of the very disciples of Jesus in the aftermath of the crucifixion:
“The church of Jesus Christ began with a group of frightened men in a second-floor room in Jerusalem.
Though trained and taught, they didn’t know what to say. Though they marched with him for three years, they now sat…afraid. They were timid soldiers, reluctant warriors, speechless messengers.
Their most courageous act was to get up to lock a door.
Some looked out the windows, some looked at the wall, some looked at the floor, but all looked inside themselves.
And well they should, for it was an hour of self-examination. All of their efforts seemed so futile. Nagging their memories were the promises they made but hadn’t kept. When the roman soldiers took Jesus, Jesus’ followers took off. With the very wine of the covenant on their breath and the bread of his sacrifice in their bellies, they fled.
All those boasts of bravado? All those declarations of devotion? They lay broken and shattered at the gate of Gethsemane’s garden.”
Harsh words, but an even harsher reality. Here’s another take on it.
(Sing song)
I often sit and wonder, why is my ministry so ineffective? I’ve been to conferences; I have taken classes in effective ministry, why even now I am reading The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. So why is it that I can’t seem to be an effective minister like Paul or Peter, you know Peter was the Rock, or even John who had seen all the miracles of Christ and still ran to hide. Oh yes, John redeemed himself on that day when he ran to the empty tomb. But why is that my ministry seems to mimic Judas or Thomas, the betrayer and the doubter. It seems like every time I turn my back I stab a knife, no better yet, I hammer a nail into the blood-soaked wrists of Christ himself.
There are two reasons I want to propose as to why that is that we will look at today; the first being that we become paralyzed with fear; secondly, its because we forget where we have come from.
Let’s look at that first reason now, paralysis. We often become like the apostles sitting in the upper room mourning the death of their teacher and focusing on the regrets and fears that have put them here. Looking at the empty spot at the table where Jesus had sat, thinking back to the times where Jesus had befriended them, and focusing on the past failures.
Then out of the blue, Jesus appears to them and says, “Peace be with you.” He doesn’t say “Oh man, you guys really blew it this time” or “Come on guys, how many times do I have to tell you?” He says “Peace be with you.” He knew exactly what they needed at exactly the right time.
How many times these days do we look at churches and say “Oh, I know what their problem is, they need to be more receptive.” They talk of helping missionaries and healing world hunger and yet never reach out to their own backyard. They all have good intentions but as Lucado says,
“Good people, Lots of ideas, plenty of good intentions. Budgets. Meetings. Words. Promises. But while all of this is going on, the door remains locked and the story stays a secret.
You don’t turn your back on Christ, but you don’t turn toward him either. You don’t curse his name, but neither do you praise it. You know you should do something, but you are not sure what. You know you should come together but you are not sure why.
Upper-room futility. Confused ambassadors behind locked doors. What will it take to unlock them? What will it take to ignite the fire? What will it take to restore that first-century passion? What will have to happen before the padlocks of futility tumble from our doors and are trampled by the feet of departing disciples?”
It will take not only meetings and conferences; those are only a small portion of it though. The important parts are a fuller reliance on the Holy Spirit, no I am not talking about saying “praise the lord” or “preach it brother” but if that is what the spirit tells you to do, do it; and the most important part is truly knowing our Lord, Jesus Christ in the most personal and heartfelt way you can think of and then beyond that.
Back to the apostles though,
“A lot of things would happen to them over the next few decades. Many nights would be spent away from home. Hunger would gnaw at their bellies. Rain would soak their skin. Stones would bruise their bodies. Shipwrecks, lashings, martyrdom. But there was a scene in the repertoire of memories that caused them never to look back: the betrayed coming back to find his betrayers, not to scourge them, but to send them. Not to criticize them for forgetting, but to commission them to remember. Remember that he who was dead is alive and they who were guilty have been forgiven.”
We are given that same commission, although to Jesus I am sure he meant it to be more like an assumption. We are given the same commission, remember that Jesus is alive and we are forgiven through the stripes on his back, and the crimson liquid that streamed from his brow and his hands and feet. That is some blessed assurance that you can take to the spiritual bank of God.
Lets look at the second reason as to why we are unsuccessful in our ministry: forgetting where we have come from.
“Think about the first time you ever saw him. Think about your first encounter with the Christ. Robe yourself in the moment. Resurrect the relief. Recall the purity. Summon forth the passion. Can you remember?”
Can you remember the first moment of your new life? Think back. I remember it was April 20th, 1996. I was at a Ray Boltz concert. The lights were shining brightly like the sun itself, and it was as if the music had grown arms, legs, and a voice. It came over sat by me and hugged me tightly and said “Here I am son; come; follow me.” What was your first encounter with the risen Christ like, take a few seconds to pause and think and smile as you did that first day.
Lucado suggests that:
“There is a direct correlation between the accuracy of our memories and the effectiveness of our mission. If we are not teaching people how to be saved, it is perhaps because we have forgotten the tragedy of being lost! If we’re not teaching the message of forgiveness, it may be because we don’t remember what it is like to be guilty. And if we’re not preaching the cross, it could be that we’ve subconsciously decided that–God Forbid–somehow we don’t need it.
In what was perhaps the last letter Paul ever wrote, he begged Timothy not to forget. In a letter written within earshot of the sharpening of the blade that would sever his head, he urged Timothy to remember. “Remember Jesus Christ….” You can almost picture the old warrior smiling as he wrote the words. “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel….”
When times get hard, remember Jesus. When people don’t listen, remember Jesus. When tears come, remember Jesus. When disappointment is your bed partner, remember Jesus. When fear pitches his tent in your front yard. When death looms, when anger singes, when shame weighs heavily. Remember Jesus.”
We forget far too easily over the years, things pop up and we say that things take precedence. And the Christ…the Christ is forgotten. As the storms of life come, we seem to leave Jesus somewhere back there, in the eye of the storm where he beckons us to be. The calmest part. He stands there and says “Peace be with you.”
“Has it been awhile since you stared at the heavens in speechless amazement? Has it been a while since you realized God’s divinity and your carnality?
If it has, then you need to know something. He is still there. He hasn’t left. Under all those papers and books and reports and years. In the midst of all those voices and faces and memories, and pictures, he is still there.
Do yourself a favor. Stand before him again. Or, better, allow him to stand before you. Go into your upper room and wait. Wait until he comes. And when he appears, don’t leave. Run your fingers over his feet. Place your hand in the pierced side. And look into those eyes. Those same eyes that melted the gates of hell and sent the demons scurrying and Satan running. Look at them as they look at you. You’ll never be the same.
A man is never the same after he simultaneously sees his utter despair and Christ’s unbending grace. To see the despair without the grace and Christ’s unbending grace. To see the despair without the grace is suicidal. To see the grace without the despair is upper-room futility. But to see them both is conversion.”
How long has it been since you last had that feeling of “I know God is in my presence and I am in debt to him for it?” How long has it been since you felt the feeling of “I am a new creation and God’s son/daughter?” How long has it been since you told God that you loved him?
This is the problem with churches today. We not only forget where we came from, but we also become so afraid of the outside world that we become paralyzed and lock our doors. Not only the doors of the church but the doors of our heart. Go home today and think about all the fear you have in your heart and all that you have forgotten. God bless you and “Peace be with you.”
