Friday, January 29, 2010

What Must I Do to Be Saved? (Especially if I'm not a newbie)

Elijah was one of the most revered prophets in the Hebrew scriptures. Once he staged a great winner-take-all contest with the priests of the Caananite god, Baal. Practically the entire nation had gotten into this sick religion. Since the religion claimed to offer great power, Elijah staged a power contest. The priests of Baal would set up an altar and lay out a sacrifice on it.

Elijah would do the same.

The god who responded with fire from heaven–he was the true God.

The entire nation was summoned to the show down.

The priests of Baal went first. They danced and prayed all day. Unfortunately for them, the only thing drawn by their sacrifice was flies.

About sunset, Elijah set up his altar and laid out his sacrifice. He had his sacrifice and altar soaked with twelve barrels of water. Then he knelt and prayed.

God responded with a fire so intense it vaporized pools of water and even rocks.

The people watching, shouted, “The Lord, he is God. The Lord, he is God.”

Queen Jezebel was not happy and planned to have Elijah assassinated.

He ran for his life into the wilderness and fell into a profound depression. He was so depressed he prayed to die. God didn’t let him die. Instead, he sent an angel to feed him a couple of times, then sent Elijah south to Mt. Sinai. There the prophet holes up in a cave for the night and prays. His prayer goes something like this, “God, my life sucks.”

In the morning God orders Elijah to get up and go to the entrance of the cave. The prophet does so, expecting to meet God.

Instead, while he’s standing there a wind blows up that is so intense it starts blowing rocks around. But God was not in the wind.

Then there is an earthquake. But God was not in the earthquake.

Next there is a mysterious raging fire. But God was not in the fire.

Then there was a gentle whisper. It was the voice of God. “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

“My life sucks.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I have been very zealous for you. The entire nation has abandoned true worship. They have killed off all the other prophets that are loyal to you. I’m the only one left. And now they’re out to get me, too.”

God offers no sympathy. Instead he gives Elijah an assignment. He is to head back to civilization, anoint a couple of men as kings of different nations and take on an understudy for his own position.
God saves Elijah by calling him to cooperate with what God is doing to set up the future.

The earthquake was not punishment. It was not discipline. It delivered no message. However, along with the freak windstorm and firestorm, the earthquake helped set the stage for Elijah to hear what God had to say. God’s message: “I am not through with you. I have plans for you. I have plans for my kingdom that require your cooperation.


An earthquake features in another story of spiritual transformation. It’s found in Acts 16. The Apostle Paul and his associate Silas were preaching in the town of Philippi. A lot of people were attending Paul’s lectures. People were getting baptized. It was going great. Then a monkey wrench got thrown.

A slave girl who was a famous fortune teller in town took a fancy to missionaries. This fortune teller served as a medium for some kind of demonic spirit. She started following them around town, shouting to the crowd, “These men are servants of the Most High God.. They are telling you the way to be saved.” Maybe at first this didn’t seem so bad. Here was a famous person endorsing the work of the apostles. However, she must have been pretty disruptive. Because after days and days of this Paul finally got exasperated. So he ordered the demonic spirit to leave the girl. And it did.

The girl was no longer tormented by the spirit. Unfortunately, she also no longer had her powers of clairvoyance. And her owners were not happy. They made a lot of money off her fortune telling.

The owners sued the evangelists and when Paul and Silas arrived at court to respond to the charges, the owners incited a mob to attack them. On top of this outrage, the city magistrates ordered the evangelists to be stripped and beaten and thrown in jail.

That night, about midnight, Paul and Silas were singing in the prison when an earthquake struck. At the first rumblings, the jailer jumped out of bed raced to check on his prisoners. When he saw the jail, he felt the approaching doom. Not from falling masonry. The jail doors were ajar. The jail itself was a wreck. For sure the prisoners were gone. In that system, if your prisoner escaped you were executed. The jailer was not going to wait for the spectacle and perhaps slow torture awaiting him. He pulled his sword and was preparing to fall on it when Paul called out from inside the jail, “Don’t hurt yourself. We’re all still here!”

Astonished, the jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell before Paul and Silas, shaking like a leaf. Then he got to his feet and escorted them out of the prison. Once outside, the jailer again knelt before the missionaries and asked, “Men, what must I do to be saved?”

What did the jailer mean when he asked, “What must I do to be saved?”

Obviously on one level he had already experienced salvation. The earthquake, by wrecking the jail, exposed him to death by execution. Paul and Silas, by remaining in place, and apparently somehow influencing the other prisoners to remain as well, had already saved him from certain death.

What else did the jailer want? The story offers a few hints.

When the jailer asked, “What must I do to be saved?” Paul and Silas answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved along with your entire family.”

Then, according to the story, Paul and Silas spent the night ‘speaking the word of the Lord’ to the entire household–wife, servants, kids, maybe sons-in-law and daughters-in-law. The teaching led to baptism, which Paul taught was a sign of God’s work of forgiving our sins and transforming our lives.

Salvation for this jailer and his household meant at least this: a certainty that his sins were forgiven. Certainty that he was now included in God’s earthly mission. He had become part of the royal priesthood representing the God of heaven here on earth. He had become part of the royal family–the church. And he had a secure future in the kingdom of heaven.

He was saved.


The story of the jailer offers wonderful guidance and encouragement to those of us who are not yet Christians. Some of us have never been baptized. We have never experienced the joy of being included in the royal family of Jesus.

If that’s you, and you find yourself asking with the jailer, “What do I have to do to be saved?” The answer is simple: Believe in Jesus. Turn toward him as the central reality in your life. And you will be saved.

While this is great news for the ten or fifteen here who are not Christians, for many of the rest of us it can be frustrating.

“Believe in Jesus. Turn your life toward him.”

Been there. Done that. Still we hunger for something more, something else. If I was baptized ten or thirty years ago. . . . If I have been sincere in religious life for forty years and sense a hunger for something more . . . what is there for me?

Maybe you’re longing for some dramatic action by God. You’re looking for an earthquake. Something to shake up your world.

If that’s you, consider again Elijah’s story. There had certainly been drama in Elijah’s life–fire from heaven! But that was yesterday, last week, last year, decades ago. He felt the let down. (A high is always followed by a low.)

So God sends a tornado, an earthquake and a southern California wildfire. Lots of drama. And in each case, the Bible reports, God was not in it. Not in the wind. Not in the earthquake. Not in the fire. Then a gentle voice And what was the message conveyed by that gentle voice? “Get up and go back to work.”

For the jailer, salvation was about a dramatic change of world view. It was a brand new experience of forgiveness and acceptance.

For long time believers, salvation means something different–something more. For long time believers salvation means inclusion in the work of the Kingdom of God.

When a long time believer asks, “What must I do to be saved?” The answer is seldom something dramatic, heroic, novel. Instead, God’s answer is to point you to some specific task that he would like you to do.

“What must I do to be saved?” Get up and go back to work. Something obscure. Something that is close at hand. Something you can start doing today.

In Luke 10 there is a story about a religious scholar who asked Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Paraphrase: What do I have to do to align my life with God so that I am all set for the afterlife?

Jesus answer, “What is written in the Law? (“Law” was Jewish-speak for “the Scriptures.”)

The scholar answered, “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself.”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus said. “Do this and you will live.”

What do I have to do to be saved? Keep the law–which above all else means loving God with my entire being and my neighbor as myself. It’s a simple, straightforward formula.

But this scholar didn’t experience it as simple. There were so many complications. Like who are the people included in the “neighbor” category? Is the Taliban included? Are Muslims included? Are homosexuals included? Do I have to love Republicans or Democrats or Tea Party activists or feminists or environmentalists or capitalists? Do I have to love people who call themselves Christian but don’t believe in the trinity or the Sabbath or six thousand years. What does it mean to love someone who has bad theology?

This “love your neighbor” stuff can get really complicated.

When the scholar said all this to Jesus, Jesus responded with a story. The story of the good Samaritan. The punch line: Who is your neighbor? Not the one most deserving of your love, but the person in your world who needs it most.

What must I do to be saved? What must I do to experience the joy of partnering with God here in this world and anticipating a joyous eternity with God?

First join Jesus. Trust Jesus as a reliable, trustworthy representative of heaven. Jesus’ habits of forgiving, healing, listening, commanding, directing tell us the truth about God.

Count on it. Then get baptized as the outward sign of God’s promise to you and your confidence in him.

Second . . . and third . . . And fourth. Listen for the gentle whisper of God calling you to service and to the future.

Give up your whining.

Join God in extending forgiveness.

Join God in serving people who will be blessed by your care.

Ask God, how can I help?

In doing this you are practicing for eternity. You are cultivating joy here and now. You are saved.

Friday, January 22, 2010

What Should a Christian Ask after an Earthquake?

Sermon for North Hill, January 23, 2010

Early this week I check on a faucet we use for filling a cattle trough in the back field. It's in a hole in the ground, covered with boards to protect it from freezing. When I checked it, the hole was full of water. My first reaction was an exasperated question: “Who did this?”

Of course, I knew the answer. Bonnie and I are the only people who ever touch that faucet. The faucet is difficult and she has been known to fail to completely turn it off.

I stuck my hand down in the water and cranked on the faucet handle. It didn’t move. I then checked a shut off valve up by the barn that is supposed to be closed during the winter except when we’re actually filling the trough in the pasture. The valve was properly off.

So who filled the hole? Surprise! God did!

The water in that hole was caused by an “act of God” 5600 years ago when a massive chunk of Mt. Rainier detached from the mountain, liquified and poured down the White River valley and out across what is now southeast King County. Geologists call it the Osceola Mudflow. It’s one of the largest such lahars (volcanic mudslides) known anywhere in the world. The soil that has formed on top this mudflow is so dense with clay that rain water does not penetrate more than a few inches into the ground. From November to May, the entire Enumclaw plateau formed by this mudflow is a soggy sponge.

A hundred years ago farmers crisscrossed the entire plateau with drainage ditches in an effort to get rid of the water so they could work their fields. Still, even though our field and the fields of our neighbors are ditched every hundred feet or so, the ground holds so much water that any depression stays full of water all winter. Even cow footprints fill with water.

So who filled up my faucet hole? If you want to be silly, you could say God did it since it is the result of natural law and God created nature.

If you are serious, asking, “who filled up the faucet hole with water” is an unfruitful question. There is no way to answer it. The hole was not filled by a “who.” It was filled by a “what.” And the “what” is best described by the science of geology.

Bonnie did not fill the hole with water. God did not fill my hole with water. The faucet hole in our pasture was filled by rain falling on a particular kind of soil which was created by a mudslide that swept down from Mt. Rainier 5600 years ago. This is not a very exciting answer. However, it is the truth.



There was a devastating earthquake in Haiti last week and some preachers are trying to answer the question: Who did it? Which means they are talking nonsense. If you what to make sense of the physical reality of the earthquake, you’ll find the answer in geology not in theology.

Haiti is located on a plate boundary. Plate boundaries are precisely the places where most earthquakes occur. If you go to the website of the USGS (United States Geological Survey) you can find a map of the locations of all the earthquakes that happened over the last seven days. The map shows the vast majority of earthquakes happen in places like the Aleutian Isalnds where there are hardly any people. Which would be a real waste if the point of an earthquake was to punish or warn sinners.

Who caused the earthquake in Haiti? It may be a natural human question. For a preacher to ask it out loud is a demonstration of profound ignorance.

But then someone might ask, what about the Bible? Doesn’t the Bible teach that earthquakes are signs of God’s disfavor?

In the official history of Israel–the books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles–there is only one single mention of an earthquake. It occurs in the story of Elijah. The Bible specifically states that this earthquake was NOT a message from God.

All through the books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles there are stories about all sorts of supernatural intervention. God causes wars and disease, famines and other catastrophes. But there is not a single mention of earthquakes as a divine act anywhere in the entire official history of Israel.

We know earthquakes happened in that region. The prophet Amos mentions one that happened during the reign of Uzziah (Amos 1:1). And Zechariah mentions the same earthquake. But they give not the slightest hint the earthquake was caused by God.

Earthquakes happened. But God didn’t do it.

Who filled my faucet hole with water?
Who whacked Haiti with an earthquake?

Wrong question. In both cases the only appropriate question is “what?” not “who?” To get an intelligent answer, we must ask a geologist not a theologian.

Let’s turn to something much more personal. How shall we think about personal tragedy? What is the wise Christian response to pain and tragedy in our own private lives?

Once upon a time a widow came to the prophet Elisah. Her husband who had been a prophet had died. She had no income, no relatives to help her. Her late husband’s creditors were threatening to seize her two sons and sell them as slaves. What to do? She was desperate.

Elisha tells her to go to her neighbors and borrow every container she can.

So she filled her house with empty containers. Then Elisha told her to start filling these containers with oil from the little bottle she had. She did. And the oil kept flowing until she had filled every container.

Now she had a house full of oil–which was very valuable. She sold the oil, paid off her debts and lived happily ever after.

Notice, this woman’s predicament is not described as being caused by God or by the devil. Death happens. In our world, husbands have heart attacks. They get killed rarely in auto accidents. They die of cancer. They get killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. When someone we love dies, it is natural to ask, who did this? Usually that natural question is utterly unhelpful. God didn’t do it. The devil didn’t do it. It happened. The truth is it will happen to all of us sooner or later. So how do we as Christians thing about the random tragedy that strikes believers and unbelievers alike?

Elisha is a perfect guide for us. He did not say to the widow. If your husband had not been such a hypocrite, he wouldn’t have died. Elisha did not give her a lecture on the evils of debt. There is no hint of condemnation in Elisha’s interaction with the woman. Death happens. Bad stuff interrupts the flow of life.

What is the proper response to these facts? “How can I help you?”

The job of the church, the role of believers, is to do all within our power to ease the suffering.

In the story of Haiti, you will not find any useful insight into God by asking about the mechanism of earthquakes. You might find some useful insight into the mind and heart of God by paying attention to the work of ADRA or MercyCorp or the millions of others who have responded to the tragedy.

When catastrophe happens, whether it is a very private catastrophe in your personal life or in the life of someone you love or it is a massive catastrophe like the earthquake in Haiti, the best question to ask is what is God calling me to do now? That question will lead to action, to ministry, to meaningful life.

Asking “who did this” will do you no more good than it did me when I found water in the hole in my pasture. Water in holes happens in Enumclaw pastures. Earthquakes happen along the edges of tectonic plates. So?

When Jesus disciples saw an especially pathetic human situation they asked Jesus, “Who sinned?” Whose fault is this man’s predicament?” Jesus said their question was misplaced. The right question in the face of human tragedy is Now what? (John 9)

The answer to that question always circles back to the great commandments: Love God with your whole being and your neighbor as yourself. This is our job when things are going well. This is our calling when life is painful and difficult.

When earthquakes happen, whether literal earthquakes that shake the ground or figurative earthquakes that shake our lives and loved ones, don’t get distracted by asking, Who did this? Who caused this? Instead, ask, What can we do? That’s a question we can answer. Here. Now.

(And we won’t have to check with a geologist to see if we got it right.)

God, Rocks and Souls

The blog titled God, Rocks, and Souls (see link to the right) will consist of chapters in a memoir I'm working on. I welcome comment and criticism either about content or about style and copy editing stuff.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Forgiveness, the Special Christian Treasure

On Sunday, January 3, 2010, Brit Hume was on TV with a panel of pundits talking about Tiger Woods' troubles. The panelists were asked for their predictions about Tiger’s future. Hume said he was more concerned about the “man” than about the “golfer.” As a man, Tiger was facing terrible difficulties with the possibility that he would be completely cut off from his children. In the past Tiger has identified himself as a Buddhist. Hume commented, "I don't think that faith offers the kind of forgiveness and redemption that is offered by the Christian faith. So my message to Tiger would be, 'Tiger, turn to the Christian faith and you can make a total recovery and be a great example to the world.'"

Hume’s comments provoked a fire storm of protest. How dare he talk publicly about another person’s faith? How dare he suggest that Buddhism does not offer forgiveness and redemption?

So a couple of questions, one easy, the other much more complicated.

The complicated question is how strongly and in what ways should public figures advocate their own particular faith? Having watched Brit Hume’s little speech on YouTube, I think the people who got all bent out of shape over it have a problem. Jon Stewart and many others screamed “foul.” Their screams are inappropriate. Hume did not demean Buddhism or Buddhists. He advocated his own faith in a brief statement. What’s wrong with that?

The second question is uncomplicated: Was Hume right when he said Buddhism does not offer the kind of forgiveness and redemption that is offered by the Christian faith? Are Hume’s words in this instance factually correct?

YES!

“Stephen Prothero, a Boston University professor on Buddhism, told Tamara Lush of the Associated Press: "You have the law of karma, so no matter what Woods says or does, he is going to have to pay for whatever wrongs he's done. There's no accountant in the sky wiping sins off your balance sheet, like there is in Christianity." Added James William Coleman, a professor of Buddhist studies at Cal Polytechnic State University in San Luis Obispo, Calif. "If you do what [Tiger Woods] has done, it comes back and hurts you."”
http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/01/08/fox-tiger-and-christianity-a-defense-of-brit-hume/

“Buddhist and journalist Barbara Hoetsu O'Brien gets down to dharma. She writes:

“ I don't like to point out others' faults, but given the record I would think Christians would show a little more humility about offering advice to the sexually wayward. As Jesus once said, let those who have never sinned throw the first stones (John 8:7).

“ However, Mr. Hume is right, in a sense, that Buddhism doesn't offer redemption and forgiveness in the same way Christianity does. Buddhism has no concept of sin; therefore, redemption and forgiveness in the Christian sense is meaningless in Buddhism. Forgiveness is important, but it is approached differently in Buddhism...”
http://content.usatoday.com/communities/Religion/post/2010/01/buddhism-brit-hume-tiger-woods-forgiveness/1

Conclusion: Hume is essentially correct in his characterization of a significant difference between Buddhism and Christianity. Buddhist teachers certainly teach people to practice forgiveness both toward themselves and others. However, in Buddhism there is no God who offers forgiveness and redemption. On the other hand, divine forgiveness lies at the very core of Christianity.


Early in his ministry Jesus has a very peculiar encounter. (You can read it in Matthew 9:1; Mark 2:3 and Luke 5:18.) Four men carry a paralyzed friend of theirs to Jesus so he can be healed. Jesus is inside a house when they arrive. There are so many people gathered in and around the house, the men with their paralyzed friend cannot even get close to the door. So they go around the side of the house and up onto the roof. There they rip open a hole in the roof and lower their friend down into the presence of Jesus with ropes.
Jesus takes note of their faith and says to the man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
This is a curious greeting to a paralyzed man from someone who is famous for healing people. I would expect Jesus to address the problem with the man’s legs. Or at least to ask him some relevant question about his inability to walk. No, the focus of the story is on Jesus immediate address to the man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”
These words about forgiveness are so stunning, Matthew forgets to say anything about the four guys making a hole in the roof! The religious leaders standing there are aghast at Jesus words. How dare he announce forgiveness for this man? That prerogative belongs to God alone.
Jesus responds to their protesting questions by saying, “Which is easier? To say to someone, your sins are forgiven or to say to a paralyzed man, get up and walk. But just so you will know that my offer of forgiveness is more than mere words, watch this.” Then he turns to the man and says, “Get up and take your bed home.”
The man gets up. Picks up his mat and walks out to the astonishment of the whole crowd.

Jesus was justly famous as a healer. However the prophecies focused even more on his role as a forgiver. The angel said to Joseph, “You are to call his name Jesus for he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).
Zechariah, the old priest pronounced concerning the mission of his son, the opener for Jesus’ concert: “To give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God” (Luke 1:77).
The first prayer in the book of Revelation praises God for the work of Jesus who “who freed us from our sins by his blood and made us to be kings and priests . . .” (Revelation 1:5)

The special Christian message about God is this: he removes sin. He cancels moral debt. He redeems us for our ethical failures.

One of the great human challenges what to do about our moral and ethical failures?


The notion of karma works pretty good, if you are pretty good. But what if you’ve really screwed up?

The religion of Jesus frankly, unabashedly acknowledges human failure, then offers sweet hope. The first words of Jesus in the face of human distress: Your sins are forgiven. The past does not define you. Your mistakes and failures are not your definition, not your identity.

Even if you are lying on a stretcher paralyzed. Jesus sees past the obvious physical dysfunction and addresses the cry of our heart. You can be set free from the prison of your past. You are forgiven.

In Luke 7 there’s another story.

A Pharisee invited Jesus for lunch. (It’s important to note that Jesus freely associated with the Pharisees. Some of us imagine that we are too good to fraternize with the Pharisees. We hang out with the sinners, with real people, not with the religious pretenders like those Pharisees. Jesus was equally comfortable in the company of conventional religious people and religious outcasts. In short, Jesus kept company with everyone.)

They are having dinner when a woman with a salacious reputation comes in. She stood behind Jesus weeping, wetting his feet with her tears and wiping them with her hair.

The Pharisee is naturally offended by this display. He thinks how can Jesus possibly allow someone with that kind of reputation hang all over his feet. It was scandalous.

Jesus turns to his host and says, “I have a story for you. Two men borrowed money at a Payday Loan establishment. One borrowed 20 thousand. The other borrowed 200. Both got into trouble and couldn’t pay. The owner of the place inexplicably forgave both of them, canceled their debt. Which one do you think will love the owner more?”

Simon said, “Well, I suppose the one who was forgiven 20 thousand.”

Right you are.” Jesus said. Then Jesus continued. “When I came into your house you didn’t give me any water to wash my feet (a serious breech of courtesy in that culture). This woman has washed my feet with her tears. You gave me no cologne. This woman has poured perfume on my feet. From her overflowing love, it is obvious she has been forgiven–forgiven much. Forgiven truly.”

Then Jesus said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven.”

The other folks at lunch were astonished at Jesus bald gift of forgiveness. Jesus ignored them and said to the woman, “Go in peace.”

Notice the repeat of themes from the first story. What did this woman need? Perhaps the dinner guests figured the first thing she needed was to get her act together, to change her behavior. No doubt that was a real need. But the very first need Jesus addressed was her need for an identity that was not rooted in her past. So he forgave her.

Go in peace. Go live a new life, a life rooted in the goodness and benevolence of God.


The Pharisee was probably especially offended because this woman was guilty of sexual sin. Why is that such a big deal? Because sexuality lies close to the core of our being. Sexuality and spirituality are inseparable. We experience them in very similar ways. When we experience failure in sexuality, we are wounded in our core. And usually someone else is also wounded in her core. If the face of this common, but tragic, human failure Jesus offers hope. Forgiveness.

One of the problems with sexual sin, is that far too often it comes to define us. Whether we see ourselves as victim or perpetrator or both, our failures in sexual relationships we see ourselves thru the lense of the failure. Jesus gives us a new identity through his forgiveness. Then invites us, no calls us, to live a new life of wholeness, happiness, holiness and health.

(I cannot help drawing attention to the story of Iris Robinson, the 60-year-old member of the Irish Parliament whose affair with a 19-year old boy is in the news. She is famous for "evangelical" condemnation of homosexuals and advocacy of "the government's responsibility to uphold God's laws." Like Simon, perhaps, she has made a career being scandalized by other's sexual failings. Iris has responded to being exposed not by asking forgiveness but by minimizing her behavior. Forgiveness is so much better than minimizing.)

The story of the uninvited guest at Simon's party highlights an astonishing truth. Forgiveness is capable of taking grave failing and turning it into the raw material for great triumph. Remorse is turned into joy. Self-loathing is turned into glad service and worship.

“The one forgiven much loves much.” Love is evidence of knowing oneself to be forgiven. Rich love and deep forgiveness are linked.

No wonder Brit recommended it for Tiger Woods. It’s pretty good advice for the rest of us as well. Let’s accept forgiveness then live forward in the new, whole, healthy, happy life God intends for us.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Tell Someone Else

About 100 people a week read this blog. If you read it regularly and find it valuable, would you consider letting a few other people know about it.

Also, I welcome comments.

The First Fact of Christian Spirituality


When our youngest was in seventh grade at Buena Vista Adventist School, Karin got a phone call. “Mom, there’s this dog here at school that I think somebody must have dumped. It’s been sitting outside under a bush near the driveway entrance. It watches all the cars that come it. It doesn’t act afraid of people. It lets students pet it, but it’s not really interested in them. Instead it just watches the cars. I think we should take it home.”

So Karin put a dog crate in the back of her car when she went to pick Shelley up from school. The dog was still under the same bush. It did not protest as Karin checked her over but it showed no interest in her. No collar. No tags. And every time a car approached it perked up.

Karin and Shelley got the dog into the car and brought her home. They put up posters and advertised on Craig’s list. Watched the lost and found ads in the newspaper. Nothing.

It was clear the dog had lived in an abusive environment. If I spoke to her the least sharply, she would cower and pee on the floor. If I picked up the broom she would hide.

That was seven years ago. Now she owns the place. Sleeps in the bedroom. Naps on the couch when no one is looking. And when I speak to her sharply, she looks at me with fearless confidence. Saved.

Three years ago Karin and Bonnie and a neighbor decided to walk through the horse yard at the Enumclaw horse auction. Bonnie spotted two matching Halflinger horses. They had no business being there. This an end of the road auction. But these were not end of the road horses. Bonnie went and found the owner and asked why on earth she had brought the horses here. The lady explained she had tried to sell them but had not found any buyers. She couldn’t keep the horses, so in desperation, she brought them here. Bonnie explained there were much better ways to find a good home for these horses and went with her to the office to try to retrieve the horses. But since the woman had already signed the contract there was nothing to be done.

So Bonnie went to the auction. Bid on the horses and bought them.

They were untrained. Unsafe to ride. Bonnie trained Bert and sold him. She paid a professional trainer to work with AJ.

A few months after she sold Bert she got a call from his new owner. The woman didn’t know what to do with the horse. She couldn’t keep him any more. Bonnie bought the horse back even though she had no legal obligation to do so. Brought him home and retrained him.

Today two Halflingers live at our house, eating good hay. Going for rides in the forest east of Enumclaw, basking in the love that all animals enjoy at Berry Creek Farm. Saved.

These first two stories are not all that surprising. Karin and Bonnie are official, certified animal lovers. They are famous for their love and skill with animals.


A few weeks ago we had some really cold weather. Single digits. For western Washington, that’s cold. One morning I was outside early. I heard a dog barking. It lives in a chain link kennel in the backyard of a house that borders our neighbor’s pasture.

The dog does not get much attention as far as we can tell. And sometimes it barks more than I like, but on this day it was barking with more intensity and duration than usual. Because the weather was so cold, I thought maybe it needed some extra food. So I took a scoop of our dog food walked across the neighbors pasture and tossed the food piece by piece over the fence into its kennel. It cowered in the corner while I was throwing the food. After tossing the food into its pen I left so it could eat in peace.

For about half an hour the dog was quiet. I congratulated myself.

Then the dog started barking again. Urgently. Insistently.

Now what? Something was wrong. Karin and Bonnie were asleep. Probably the neighbor was asleep. It was very early Sunday morning. Somebody had to do something.

I walked back across our neighbor’s pasture to see what I could see. When the temperatures are in the teens and single digits it’s a constant struggle to keep the animals supplied with liquid water. Horse and cow troughs, dog and cat dishes, chicken waterers–everything freezes. All I could see in this dog’s kennel was a frozen-over three gallon tub. I tried to break the ice by poking a steel fence post through the two fences. The tub was frozen solid.

Back to our barn. I found a beat-up old bucket. Filled another bucket with warm water and headed back to my barking neighbor. I tossed the old bucket over the fence. Used a stick to get it upright. Then threaded a short length of hose through the two fences and poured a gallon or two of warm water through the hose into the bucket inside his kennel.

No more barking the rest of the day. Salvation.



In today’s sermon I want to lay the foundation for a series on the fundamentals of Christian spiritual life. These animal stories illustrate the most important of all spiritual principles: Salvation is first of all a divine activity, a divine intention. It is not primarily a human accomplishment or even a human experience.

Gypsy, the dog, Bert and AJ, the horses and the neighbor’s pit bull came at salvation by very different approaches.

Gypsy did not bark. In fact, she lived at our house for months before she was comfortable enough to bark. She just sat under the bush and looked lost and worried.

Burt and AJ just stood in their pens at the auction looking out of place.

The neighbor’s dog barked its head off (which I do not recommend to dogs that are trying to awaken my sympathetic interest).

The common thread in these stories is the commitment to animal salvation that characterizes Berry Creek Farm. This commitment to animal salvation is so strong that when Karin and Bonnie are not around, I do it!!!!

It something like that with God and human salvation. When you listen to people tell their stories there is a lot of variety. What is common is the ultimate realization of God’s love, God’s care, God’s good intentions.

The collection of stories in Luke 15 that illustrates this.

To help us understand the setting of these stories let’s first notice the beginning of Luke 14. “One Sabbath, Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee . . .” Jesus spent time hanging out with good people, with people of high religious and social standing.

The next chapter also features Jesus going to dinner. This time he’s eating with the owner of a local adult bookstore and some of the owner’s hard-smoking, hard-drinking friends. Before that he had had lunch with the head of a local chapter of a national gay rights organization and the owner of an abortion clinic.

The Pharisees cannot believe this. How can Jesus treat these people with same courtesy that he shows to the religious leaders? How can he hang out with them as though they are normal people? What gives?

Jesus answers their challenge with three stories.

First. There was a shepherd who had 100 sheep. One night when he brings his flock into the pen, he discovers one is missing. He shuts the 99 into the pen then heads off into the hills to find the lost sheep. When he finally finds the sheep at 2 a.m., he hoists it onto his shoulders and carries it home. When he gets home he wakes up the neighbors with his shouting. “I found it! I found it!” He insists they all come over and celebrate with him.


Second story. A woman has ten coins. These coins are her dowry. The treasure her father gave her when she got married. This is her sole wealth. When she loses one, it’s a big deal.

I don’t know of anything in our culture that quite compares to this so we have to use our imaginations and step into her culture to appreciate the story. She has no way of replacing the coin. She has no income. And, as a woman in that society, no right to any income. These coins were a financial treasure and more than that, they symbolized the wealth and dignity of her father’s family.

One coin is lost. She empties her house to find it. After carrying everything in the small house outside, she sweeps the place. Finally she finds it. She’s ecstatic. She throws a party, insists her neighbors and friends help her celebrate her good fortune.

Third story.

There is a father and two sons. The younger son says to his dad. “Look you’re going to die some day and leave me an inheritance. What about giving to me now?”

It was a shocking insult, but surprisingly the dad hands over the money. It’s not the entire estate. It’s not even half the estate. The majority of the estate is kept for the older son. Still it is enough for the younger son to get out of town, make to a distant city and set himself up in a fine apartment with fine friends and all the other things that surplus cash can provide.

The money runs out. His luck runs out. There is a famine. The younger son finds himself–a Jew–feeding pigs, so hungry he’s tempted to eat the pig feed.

Eventually, he thinks. Wait a minute, the servants in my dad’s house are a lot better off than I am here. I’ll go home and see if Dad will hire me.

He heads home. Before he reaches the front door, his dad is out the door running down the driveway.

Dad embraces the son. Brushes aside his stammered apologies and weak attempts to present himself as a job applicant.

He calls for the servants to bring a robe to cover his son’s rags. Then he sends word to his neighbors and friends, come rejoice with me, my son has come home.

The older son is miffed. “My whole life, I’ve slaved away for you. And you never gave me so much as a birthday party. Here this scoundrel, this sorry excuse of a man comes home after wasting his entire inheritance and you throw a party! What’s up with that?”

The story ends with two statements by the Father to the dutiful older son. First the father assures his annoyed, aggrieved older son, “Look, everything I have is yours. You can party any time you want.”

Then he says, “Your brother was lost and is found. He was dead. Now he’s alive. How could I help but celebrate. Come join the party.”

Will the dutiful son enter the Father’s joy? The story doesn’t say. And in the largest sense it doesn’t matter.

In each of these stories, the main character is the searcher, not the lost one. It is the shepherd, the wife, the father. There is no question, no ambiguity about the protagonist’s intention.

In the first two stories it is only the will of the main character that matters. The sheep is not going to find its way home. When the shepherd finds the sheep he is not going to ask the sheep if it wants to come home. He’s simply going to grab it, hoist it on his shoulder and traipse off toward home.

The same with the coin. The coin does nothing in the story. This story is about the housewife and her determined searching and finding. It is her will that matters. And it is resolute, unswerving. She is going to find that coin. Period. No matter what it takes.

In these two stories there is no question, none at all, about the outcome. The shepherd finds. The wife finds.

In the final story the main character is not omnipotent. We don’t know how the story is going to turn out because the sons are free. However, the story is absolutely clear about what the Father wants: He wants his sons home--both of them.

This is the first, most important spiritual fact. It is more fundamental than any questions about the nature of faith, the role of obedience, the call to love. The first fact, the first principle of Christian spiritual life is this: The Father himself loves you.

If that metaphor doesn’t work for you, the Bible offers multiple others:

The mother herself loves you.
The groom himself loves you.
The hen is calling her chicks.
Your friend is inviting you to share dinner with him.
The teacher is inviting himself to your house.

All of these metaphors attempt to communicate the same truth: God loves you. God wants your company. God has sweet intentions for you.



When Shelley brought a stray cat home last spring for Mom to take care of, Karin complained. Karin has been complaining about this cat for six months. She did not want another cat in the house. We have enough already.

But what did Karin do? Took the cat to the vet. Spent money and time on the cat. What did Bonnie do? Trained the cat so it would more easily fit into someone else’s home.

I don’t mean to be sacrilegious. It’s only an illustration. But let me put it this way. God can’t help it. Even if his house was full of rescued sinners, even if all the rooms were taken, even if all the cat boxes were in use, God would make room. God would welcome you. And God’s intention to do humans is so powerful it permeates the lives of all the celestial beings. Angels spend their time helping people in a way that is indistinguishable from God’s own activities.

You don’t have to come up with some strategy to persuade God to take you in. Do what comes naturally. Bark your fool head off. Sit under a bush and look desperate and worried. Stand in the pen at the auction and look out of place. God is passing by. He will notice. He will save you.

Because that’s who he is.

That is the first fact of Christian spirituality.