Be Strong and Courageous

Strong and Courageous

Sermon for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists 

March 15, 2020

Texts:

Psalm 46:1-7, Joshua 1:1-7, Matthew 14:22-27

Hymn: O God Our Help in Ages Past. 

God is our refuge and strength, 

always ready to help in times of trouble. 

Therefore, we will not fear 

when earthquakes come 

and the mountains crumble into the sea.

Let the oceans roar and foam. 

Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge! 

There is a river that brings joy to the city of our God, 

the sacred home of the Most High. 

God dwells in that city; 

it cannot be destroyed. 

From the very break of day, 

God will protect it. 

The nations are in chaos, 

and their kingdoms crumble!  . . .

The LORD of Heaven's Armies is here among us; 

the God of Israel is our fortress.  

[Psalm 46:1-7 NLT] 

We are in a time of trouble. And we need a refuge. 

If we were wealthy, we could put our family on our private jet and fly to some remote island somewhere seeking a refuge. But we can’t do that.

So where can we turn for refuge?

God is our refuge and strength.

An ever ready help in times of trouble.

This conviction, this confidence-that God is on our side and that God is active on our behalf--this is what it means to be a believer. And the question naturally arises at times like these: How does this conviction, this confidence become operational in our lives?

If you’re watching the news or reading Facebook or talking with your friends, it is natural to feel utterly overwhelmed. What are we going to do? How can we find a place of confidence and quiet. How can God be our refuge and strength?

Psalm 46 offers a helpful poetic picture.

God is our refuge and strength, 

An ever ready help in times of trouble. 

Therefore, we will not fear 

when earthquakes come 

and the mountains crumble into the sea. . . .

There is a river that brings joy to the city of our God, 

the sacred home of the Most High. 

God dwells in that city; 

The great cities of ancient civilization were built on rivers. Babylon, Damascus, Ur, the great cities of Egypt. Then you come to Jerusalem. What was the river of Jerusalem? The Jordan River? No. That was many miles away and thousands of feet lower in elevation. Jerusalem had no river.

So what is this river that the Psalmist speaks about? Jerusalem’s river was a tunnel carved through solid rock. A tunnel that still exists to this day. Called Hezekiah’s tunnel. It brought water into the city from a spring that was outside the walls. Before that, women had to go outside the walls to supply the daily water needs of their families. The people had dug cisterns. So they had some capacity to store water during the winter rains. But they could not store enough water to see them through an entire dry period. So during times of siege, they were vulnerable. An invading army could simply surround the city and wait for them to run out of water.

Then Hezekiah built his tunnel, a river that ran underground, hidden from enemies. And the city had a steady secret supply of water.

There is a river that brings joy to the city of our God, 

the sacred home of the Most High. 

God dwells in that city; 

The poet imagined God as that secret river, that everlasting spring.

God is our refuge and strengthAn ever present help in times of trouble.

How do we access this sweet water? Through regular times of devotion.

We shape our souls by what we give attention to.

This coming week, the news will attempt to occupy all of our attention. We will anxiously watch the numbers. How many new cases? Where? We will fret about testing. We worry about the stamina of our medical professionals. And what about all the families impacted by school closures. And all the businesses, especially small businesses, that suddenly have no cash flow? Even time we look to the news there will be more trouble to occupy our attention. And what holds our attention will shape our soul.

Even if we were one of those people who could fly away to some remote island in our private jet, because the US is so deficient in testing capacity, if there are Americans on the plane or on the island, you’ll be terrified that someone close to you has brought the virus with them. 

So what to do?

Let’s take ourselves to the secret river. The river that brings joy to the City of God. Let’s give ourselves daily to the contemplation of the promises of God.

We can refuse to let the news occupy all of our attention. You can learn everything you need to know in ten minutes or less. Check out the Seattle Times coronavirus information page and in just a few minutes you’ll have all the information you need. All the information you can act on.

Then turn your attention away. 

Take yourself to the secret spring. Memorize some of these reassuring passages in the Psalms.

Psalm 62:5-8 NLT

Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. 6 He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. 7 My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. 8 O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge. 

Psalm 23:.

The Lord is my shepherd,I will lack nothing.He makes me lie down in green pastures.Leads me beside still waters.He restores my soul

Don’t “study” these passages, savor them. Don't analyze them like you would if you were going to write a paper or critique. Lose yourself in them. Rehearse them. Memorize them. Give yourself to them in contemplation. Turn the words over in your mind, tasting their sweetness.

God is our refuge and strength.An ever present help in trouble.

So we don’t have to freak out.

Let’s do the prudent, responsible things, of course.

Practice social distancing.

Wash our hands.

And let’s accept the reality that some of us will die. This virus is likely to kill someone we know. I’m in one of the high risk groups--in my late sixties with a history of asthma. We have friends who are in their nineties and hundreds. The virus may kill us. But let’s be realistic. If the virus doesn’t kill us, something else will. We do not live forever here in this world.

Our hope is the secret river. The promise of resurrection and a better land. 

There is a river that brings joy to the city of our God, 

the sacred home of the Most High.

If you have children at home, this would be a perfect time to work with them on memorizing some of the sweetest passages in the Bible. Helping your kids or grandkids memorize is probably the very best way for you to improve your own memory of Bible passages.

God has another way of speaking to us. Go outside. Yesterday, after working on my sermon, I got on my bike and rode for an hour. It was 36 degrees and raining. And the wind was blowing. At one point I was pedaling downhill and had to be in low gear because of the force of the headwind! Obviously, this was not the kind of weather that smilingly beckons one to go outside. But as I rode and my body warmed up, I felt the bracing exhilaration. So, especially in this time of plague, get yourself outside. Taste the rain. Enjoy the sun. Pay attention to the daffodils. Marvel at the crab apple trees lining the streets. The blossoms on the plum trees. Taste the secret rivers God has provided.

And then . . .

Then . . . 

Be strong and courageous.

Joshua 1:1-2, 6-7 NLT:

After the death of Moses the LORD's servant, the LORD spoke to Joshua son of Nun, Moses' assistant. He said, 2 "Moses my servant is dead. Therefore, the time has come for you to lead these people, the Israelites, across the Jordan River into the land I am giving them. ... 6 "Be strong and courageous, for you are the one who will lead these people to possess all the land I swore to their ancestors I would give them. 7 Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the instructions Moses gave you. Do not deviate from them, turning either to the right or to the left. Then you will be successful in everything you do.

Don’t let fear dominate your life. Or frustration. Or anger. Yes, the US has massively bungled its response to this epidemic. We can point fingers. But it will do us no good right now to do that. This is a time for us to be strong and courageous. To act. To do something. I have a particular request:

Pick up the phone and call people. Imagine you are sitting in your Sabbath School class. Now, in your imagination look around the class. Can you remember the name of each person?

Good. Try writing down the names of everyone in your class. If you get stuck, call the class teacher. Make a list. Capture it in writing. Then once a week while we are in quarantine, call every person in your class. Say, “I am  calling just to let you know I was thinking of you.”

You don’t know their phone numbers? That’s why we have a church directory. I hope you have the directory on your phone. Many of you have paper copies of our directory. Make list of people’s names and phone numbers and once every week between now and when we resume regular weekly services call everyone on your list. And every day, pray for everyone on your list.

What if you and your teacher cannot recall everyone’s names? Call me. Maybe I can help you with a name. 

Next assignment. Imagine you are sitting in church. My guess is that you sit in approximately the same place every week. And the people in the room in front of you and the row behind you are the same people every week.

Who are they? Do you know their names? Call them.

Don't know their names? Call me. Let's see if we can figure out who they are.

People are going to get sick and need to stay home. We can provide meals. Or pizza. Or soup. Or groceries. And not just for our fellow church members, but also our neighbors.

The world is full of fear and anger.

We don’t have to be.

God is our refuge and strengthAn ever present help in trouble.We have a secret river.

The world is wild and scary.

God calls us to trust in him.

And then . . .

be strong and courageous.

Let’s do what we can.

We have been to the river.

Now, go. Be strong and courageous. As the people of God, can we do anything less?

Sweet Water

Sermon for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists

February 15, 2020

Texts: 2 Kings 2:19-22 1-22 NLT.  Luke 10:1-3, 8-9 NLT 

The Prophet Elijah shows up in the Bible without any introduction, seemingly out of nowhere.

Elijah, who was from Tishbe in Gilead, told King Ahab, “As surely as the LORD, the God of Israel, lives—the God I serve—there will be no dew or rain during the next few years until I give the word!”

Boom.

The prophet showed up unannounced. Delivered his message, then disappeared. Three years later—three years of devastating drought—three years later Elijah showed up again. This time he summoned King Ahab to a dramatic confrontation on Mt. Carmel.

Some years later, King Ahab used his royal power in a grossly unjust way for his own personal advantage. He had someone framed and executed so Ahab can expropriate the man’s property. Again, Elijah showed up and delivered a stern message of doom.

Then we come to the end of Elijah’s story. By now he had an associate, a man named Elisha. Elijah, the old man, and Elisha, the young man walked down to the Jordan River together. The old man pulled off his mantle, rolled it up and slapped the water. The river stopped flowing and the two men walked across.

On the other side, the old man, Elijah, said to the young man, Elisha, “I’m old. It’s time for me to go. What I can do for you before I am taken away."

Elisha said, "What I want more than anything else is a double share of your spirit and to become your successor."

"You have asked a difficult thing," the old prophet replied. "But, if you see me when I am taken from you, then you will get your request. But if not, then you won't."

As they were walking along and talking, suddenly a chariot of fire appeared, drawn by horses of fire. It rushed between the two men, separating them, and Elijah was carried by a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha saw it and cried out, "My father! My father! I see the chariots and charioteers of Israel!" And as they disappeared from sight, Elisha tore his clothes in distress.

Elisha picked up Elijah's mantle, which had fallen when he was taken up. He walked back to the edge of the Jordan River. “Here goes,” I imagine him saying to himself. “Let’s see what happens.”

He hit the water with Elijah's mantle just like Elijah had done and cried out, "Where is the LORD, the God of Elijah?"

The river divided, and Elisha walked across. It was a great start to his work as the successor of the great prophet Elijah.

Not long afterward, the elders of the town of Jericho visited Elisha. "We have a problem, my lord," they told him. "This town is located in pleasant surroundings, as you can see. But the water is bad, and the land is unproductive." Elisha said, "Bring me a new bowl with salt in it." So they brought it to him. Then he went out to the spring that supplied the town with water and threw the salt into it. And he said, "This is what the LORD says: I have purified this water. It will no longer cause death or infertility." And the water has remained pure ever since, just as Elisha said.

Note the contrast between the ministries of Elijah and Elisha. Elijah appeared out of nowhere announcing doom. “The sky is going to be closed. There will be no rain until I say so.” And there was drought for three years.

When Elisha moved into the role of prophet of the nation, he was already well known. They knew him as the kid, as the assistant. Now he was The Prophet. The national spiritual leader. So they brought to him a giant problem, a problem so big only divine power could solve it.

And Elisha did solve it. He brought sweet water to a place haunted by bitter water.

Jericho was in a desert. Nothing grew there without irrigation. But the springs which supplied the available water were bitter. I’m guessing the water had alkali or salt in it. When you irrigate with water like that after awhile the ground itself becomes toxic to plants and you can’t grow anything in it. The water was miserable for drinking.

Then Elisha worked his miracle and the water became pure.

It is easy to get infatuated with Elijah. We can imagine ourselves denouncing evil, rebuking wicked people and oppressive systems and structure. Sometimes denouncing evils makes feel good.

But God calls us to something much higher, much more noble, and much more difficult. God calls us to heal the waters. Healing the waters is partnering with God in his grand mission. 

Adventists have historically focused on the Second Coming of Jesus. We have painted the picture of all God’s people being swept up to heaven at the end of time. The fiery chariot will come for us all and we’ll fly away to a place of sweetness and light, justice and truth, peace and love.

We have developed pet theories about just how it is going to happen and when it is going to happen. We have studied the Bible and the newspaper looking for signs that that glorious day was just around the corner.

It’s time for us to quit looking at the sky and turn our attention to the city that needs our help. Let’s leave the wilderness and the vision of the heavenly chariot and come back to Jericho and heal the waters. 

On February 1, 1960, four students from North Carolina Agricultural and Technical College, Ezell Blair Jr., David Richmond, Franklin McCain and Joseph McNeil sat down at a lunch counter in Woolworths Drugstore in Greensboro, SC. Four college students sitting at a lunch counter would hardly be remarkable--except that these four young men were black and Woolworths--following the custom through the South at that time, had a strict policy of serving only white people at their lunch counters. 

The young men asked for coffee and were refused service. They stayed sitting at the lunch counter until closing time. The next day they were back and other students joined them. By February 5, some 300 students showed up, paralyzing the lunch counter and other local businesses. 

Fortunately, allies had arranged for television coverage of their action. As the video went nationwide, the Greensboro sit-ins sparked a sit-ins in college towns throughout the South and even in the North, as young blacks and whites joined in various forms of peaceful protest against segregation in libraries, beaches, hotels and other establishments.

By the end of March, the movement had spread to 55 cities in 13 states. Though many were arrested for trespassing, disorderly conduct or disturbing the peace, national media coverage of the sit-ins brought increasing attention to the civil rights movement.

At the end of July, when many local college students were on summer vacation, the Greensboro Woolworth’s quietly integrated its lunch counter. Four black Woolworth’s employees—Geneva Tisdale, Susie Morrison, Anetha Jones and Charles Best—were the first to be served.

The world shifted. The waters were a little less bitter. 

Late this week, Dana sent me an article about one other young black man who was there. He was an employee of Woolworths, working behind the counter. He said in the world he grew up in racial discrimination was common. It was so common that his parents and other adults around him just accepted it as “the way things were.” They dreamed of escape to heaven. They never dreamed things could change here on earth. It took young people with new dreams, new fire, to take the bold actions needed to drive the change.

My appeal to you young people, and really to all of us: In your times of prayer, include a prayer for wisdom and courage to make some difference in the place where you are. At school, at work, in your neighborhood, in the church, in the city, in the nation.

Let’s resist the urge to go backwards.

In the church people talk about going back to the pure faith of our ancestors. But this is wrongheaded. If their faith had been all that great we wouldn’t be in the mess we are today.

In politics, a current slogan is to make the nation “great again.” A dangerous notion because it congratulates our ancestors and blinds us to the continued work before us to secure a more just, verdant, and peaceful world.

Let’s go forward to be even greater, more noble, more compassionate, more equitable, more just.

Let’s heal the waters.

Holy Defiance

Sermon for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists
February 8, 2020
Text: Daniel 6

Sometimes the right answer is, “No. I won’t do it.”

When I first started out as a minister, the Adventist Church conducted an annual fund-raising drive called Ingathering. This was not an internal program. Rather, church members solicited money from the public to support the denomination’s humanitarian efforts in disaster relief and development. As a kid, I went door-to-door with other church members. My speech was, “Hi. I’m John McLarty and we are collecting money for the poor, sick, and needy.”

But then when I was in grad school, it was found out that the denomination was not, in fact, spending the money for the poor, sick, and needy. It was blending these monies with general church funds. We were not being honest with our members or with the public.

My congregation lost its taste for participating in the program.

So, the man at the conference who was in charge of the program called me into his office. “John, you and I are friends. So I don’t want harsh, but I see you are quite a bit behind on raising your Ingathering goal this year. I know you can do better.”

“Glen,” I said, “I understand your position. You have someone above you asking about how you are doing reaching your goal. And that person has someone above him urging him to reach his goal. We’re all in this together as a church system, right?”

Glen nodded and smiled. Then I said, “So the guy up at the top puts pressure on the guy beneath him and he puts pressure on the guy under him and he puts pressure on you and you put pressure on me and I’m supposed to pass that pressure on to my church to be diligent and raise their Ingathering goal, right?”

Glen nodded again. “That’s right.”
“Well, Glen,” I said. “I won’t. My congregation will not know that we have talked. I refuse to pass along the pressure. The church is using dishonest advertising for this program. I cannot in good conscience participate.”

Sometimes, the right answer is, “No. I won’t.”

Christians often celebrate the virtue of obedience. A popular devotional book is titled, “My Utmost for His Highest.” The author writes with great eloquence and fire about the importance of absolute, unquestioning obedience. But sometimes, disobedience is the righteous path. Sometimes you have to say, “No.”

Through the book of Daniel, one feature stands out: the path of the righteous is marked by adamant defiance. In Chapter One Daniel and his friends refuse to eat the food provided for them by their royal overseers. In Chapter Three, Daniel’s friends reject the king’s loyalty test. They will not bow. In Chapter Six, Daniel refuses to cooperate with the royal decree about prayer. In the Book of Daniel, the fools swagger and boast of their greatness and the greatness of their kingdom. The righteous refuse to play along. They do not believe the protestations of greatness and demonstrate their disbelief by their actions.

Here’s Daniel’s story:

Darius the Mede decided to divide the kingdom into 120 provinces, and he appointed a high officer to rule over each province. The king also chose Daniel and two others as administrators to supervise the high officers and protect the king's interests. Daniel soon proved himself more capable than all the other administrators and high officers. Because of Daniel's great ability, the king made plans to place him over the entire empire.

Then the other administrators and high officers began searching for some fault in the way Daniel was handling government affairs, but they couldn't find anything to criticize or condemn. He was faithful, always responsible, and completely trustworthy.

So they concluded, "Our only chance of finding grounds for accusing Daniel will be in connection with the rules of his religion." So the administrators and high officers went to the king and said, "Long live King Darius! We are all in agreement--we administrators, officials, high officers, advisers, and governors--that the king should make a law that will be strictly enforced. Give orders that for the next thirty days any person who prays to anyone, divine or human--except to you, Your Majesty--will be thrown into the den of lions. And now, Your Majesty, issue and sign this law so it cannot be changed, an official law of the Medes and Persians that cannot be revoked."

King Darius signed the law.

When Daniel learned that the law had been signed, he went home and knelt down as usual in his upstairs room, with its windows open toward Jerusalem. He prayed three times a day, just as he had always done, giving thanks to his God.

The officials went together to Daniel's house and found him praying and asking for God's help. So they went straight to the king and reminded him about his law. "Did you not sign a law that for the next thirty days any person who prays to anyone, divine or human--except to you, Your Majesty--will be thrown into the den of lions?" "Yes," the king replied, "that decision stands; it is an official law of the Medes and Persians that cannot be revoked." Then they told the king, "That man Daniel, one of the captives from Judah, is ignoring you and your law. He still prays to his God three times a day." Hearing this, the king was deeply troubled, and he tried to think of a way to save Daniel. He spent the rest of the day looking for a way to get Daniel out of this predicament. In the evening the men went together to the king and said, "Your Majesty, you know that according to the law of the Medes and the Persians, no law that the king signs can be changed."

So at last the king gave orders for Daniel to be arrested and thrown into the den of lions.

The king said to him, "May your God, whom you serve so faithfully, rescue you."

A stone was brought and placed over the mouth of the den. The king sealed the stone with his own royal seal and the seals of his nobles, so that no one could rescue Daniel. Then the king returned to his palace and spent the night fasting. He refused his usual entertainment and couldn't sleep at all that night. Very early the next morning, the king got up and hurried out to the lions' den. When he got there, he called out in anguish, "Daniel, servant of the living God! Was your God, whom you serve so faithfully, able to rescue you from the lions?"

Daniel answered, "Long live the king! My God sent his angel to shut the lions' mouths so that they would not hurt me, for I have been found innocent in his sight. And I have not wronged you, Your Majesty." The king was overjoyed and ordered that Daniel be lifted from the den. Not a scratch was found on him, for he had trusted in his God.

Then the king gave orders to arrest the men who had maliciously accused Daniel. He had them thrown into the lions' den, along with their wives and children. The lions leaped on them and tore them apart before they even hit the floor of the den.

Sometimes, the right answer is No.


In 1892 Homer Plessy bought a first class train ticket for travel from New Orleans to Covington, LA. He boarded the train and settled into a seat in the first class car. It was a “whites-only” car, but since Mr. Plessy looked white (he was seven eights white according to law), no one thought anything of it. But then the conductor came in and challenged him: “Are you colored?”

“Yes sir.” Plessy answered.

“Then you’ll have to leave this car and go where you belong.”

“I will not, sir.” Plessy replied.

“Then I’ll have to call someone and have you arrested.”

“Yes, you will, sir.”

The conductor called a private detective who was on the train. The detective arrested Plessy and turned him over to local police who took him to jail.

It was a crucial day for America. It could have been the day we turned back toward greater equality or plunged deeper into oppression and injustice.

You see, this whole episode was a deliberate set up to challenge the new Louisiana law that mandated segregated train cars.

In the 1870s in New Orleans, when Plessy was growing up, New Orleans had enjoyed a significant measure of racial integration and equality. The city had a large population of both former slaves and people who before the Civil War had been called “free people of color.” Blacks could attend the same schools as whites, marry anybody they chose, and sit in any streetcar. There was a large population of French-speaking, mixed-race Creoles, many of them originally from Haiti. They were educated and wealthy and enjoyed a measure of freedom even before the Civil War. But as the 1880s white supremacy movements began gaining strength across the South and in 1890 the state legislature passed the Separate Car Act, requiring separate train cars for blacks and whites.

Plessy was a member of a local civil rights group, Comite’ des Citoyens (Citizens Committee) that worked to protect the rights of people of color. They decided to challenge the law in court. Plessy volunteered to be the provocateur.

He appeared to be white. So when he went to the train station to buy a ticket in the first class whites-only car, the ticket agent willingly sold him a ticket. But by the definitions written in Louisiana law, he was black.

The conductor who challenged him was actually part of the plot as was the detective who arrested him. The civil rights group arranged for the detective to make the arrest to make sure that Plessy was charged with violating the state law and not some other misdemeanor.

The local court upheld the law. And the Louisiana State Supreme Court upheld the law. Then it went to the United States Supreme Court. The fate of the nation hung in the balance. Just five men needed to stand up and say no. No, that is not right. Just five.

When the Comite’ des Citoyens started on this legal challenge in 1892, they had real hope that the Supreme Court would overturn the Louisiana law. But over the four years between Mr. Plessy’s arrest and his day in the Supreme Court, the makeup of the court had changed and become more conservative. Plessy’s attorneys were not sure they could win, but as a matter of principle they pressed on with their appeal.

In one of the most lamented decisions ever by the Supreme Court, the Louisiana segregation law was upheld. It became the basis for legal segregation across the country for the next 58 years. Only one judge stood up and said no. And one wasn’t enough. The nation entered the dark ages of Jim Crow laws that systematically and legally oppressed Black people across the country.

It was a legal precedent that stood until Brown v. the Board of Education in 1954 when school segregation was declared unconstitutional. It was so unnecessary. If just four more judges had had the courage to stand up against injustice the course of our nation would have been different.

Another story.

On December 1, 1956, Rosa Park was on the bus headed home after a long day at work. She was sitting in the “Blacks Only” section of the bus. The white section of the bus filled up with several people standing in the aisle.

The bus driver noticed this. He stopped the bus and went back to where a sign marked the separation between the black and white sections. He moved the sign back one row and ordered the blacks sitting in that row to give up their seats.

The way city code was written, the bus driver had full authority on his bus, like a captain on a ship at sea. Passengers had to obey. But Mrs. Parks refused.

“No, I won’t.”

The bus driver called the police and had Ms. Parks arrested.

The day of her trial, December 5, 1956, the Black community of Montgomery boycotted the busses. And again on December 6. And again on December 7. The boycott lasted 381 days. The leaders of the boycott were threatened with death. Black churches and the homes of Black leaders were bombed. But the Montgomery Improvement Association did not break. Instead they broke the bus company.

And when Ms. Parks attorneys argued her in the Supreme Court, the Court ordered the City of Montgomery to end segregation on its public transportation.

It is right that we celebrate the Black heroes who stood up against injustice, who said, “No, I won’t.” It is right that we admire their courage, venerate their clear moral vision. But most of us here this morning are not black.

And it is time we stood up. Our black and brown brothers and sisters should not be standing alone. We are called to stand with them.

In the words of the old children’s song,

Dare to be a Daniel
Dare to stand alone.

Dare to be defiant. Guided by wisdom and righteousness. And tempered with humility. (After all, maybe it is we who are wrong.)

Let us practice holy defiance. Let’s us be righteous rebels.

Let’s say, “No!”