I find those fence rows fascinating. Frequently the posts are nothing more than tree limbs, whacked off the tree with an axe, and driven into the ground. The rusty barbed wire is held in place by those old, curved, two-pointed nails – I don’t know what you call them.

Yet what I find truly fascinating is the philosophy behind those fences. We human beings are so very good at establishing our boundaries, are we not? True, the fences are there in part to keep what’s ours, in – namely, livestock. But those fences are also there to keep others out. We human beings are really quite good at establishing our boundaries, are we not?

Essentially, we do the very same thing in a lot of other areas of our lives as well. Take some of our "clubs," for example. That’s why we have entry fees and dues. The amount of the entry fees and dues allow some people in, and keep others out – almost like a fence.

Once, an elite club was thinking of lowering its entry fee to increase membership. I overheard two men talking about it. The first man seemed to be in favor of lowering the entry fee, while the second man – clearly – was not. The second man actually said, "This whole thing is ludicrous! We’ve got to keep the riff-raff out!" Since I knew I couldn’t afford to belong to that particular club, I had a sudden awakening. I AM RIFF-RAFF! The jagged edge of that barbed wire fence kept me safely on the outside.

Do we put the same kind of fence around the church? Who is likely to feel welcome in this church, and who is likely to feel unwelcome here? Listen to the following story that deals quite clearly with some of the boundaries we set about the church.

Once upon a time, a man dreamed that he died, and was met at the "Pearly Gates" by none other that St. Peter himself. St. Peter asked him, "Would you like me to show you around?" To which the man quickly replied, "I’d like that very much!"

The man was amazed to discover that heaven was like a great hallway with an unend-ing series of doors. As they approached the first door, the man heard beautiful singing. He said, "What’s behind that door?" St. Peter replied, "Oh, that’s the Methodists. They just love to sing!"

As the man approached the second door, he thought he heard fiery preaching. "What’s behind that door?" the man asked. St. Peter said, "That would be the Southern Baptists. They just love that fire and brimstone!"

As they approached the third door, St. Peter said, "Shh. We’ve got to be very quiet as we go past this door." The man said, "Why?" St. Peter replied, "Behind that door are the Presbyterians. They think they’re the only ones here!"

Of course, Presbyterians don’t really believe that, but if I told you that story the way I really heard it, I’d make some quick enemies in this community. The point is this. Even with our churches, we have a tendency to want to establish boundaries. We have a burning desire to determine who’s in, and to determine who’s out.

Apocalyptic literature has a tendency to do that as well. What is apocalyptic literature? Apocalyptic literature speaks of the end of times – of a cataclysmic battle where God will separate the wheat from the chaff – the good from the bad, the "in" from the "out." The passage I read from the gospel according to Luke is apocalyptic literature. For in it, Jesus is speaking of the end of times.

Jesus says, "And there will be SIGNS in sun and moon and stars, and upon the earth distress of nations in perplexity and the roaring of the sea and the waves…men fainting in fear and foreboding of what is coming on the world." Later he adds, "Now when these things begin to take place, look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

In other words, there will be battles and confusion. There will be pain and suffering and strife. But those who are chosen need only look to God. For God will deliver those whom he loves. God will deliver those who are faithful.

And what do we tend to do with such information? We hoard it unto ourselves because we assume that we’re among the chosen. After all, that’s what Jesus said, is it not? We need only look to God and God will deliver us. The natural assumption is that a heck of a lot of people are going to find themselves on the outside looking in. Do you see the problem here? Even at the end of time, we are wont to establish those blasted bound-aries. Even at the end of time, we’re putting up a fence to keep the riff-raff out.

That’s why I’m convinced that we need to take a passage in its entirety in order to interpret it. Taking a few snippets of Scripture enables us to come up with a fairly favorable interpretation – favorable for us, anyway. But taking the passage in its entirety gives us a more comprehensive idea as to what Jesus really had in mind.

Shortly before the verses I read, Jesus made the following statements. He said, "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earth-quakes, and in various places famines and pestilences; and there will be terrors and great SIGNS from heaven." Then Jesus adds, "This will be a time for you to bear testimony." Again, "This will be a time for you to bear testimony."

Thus, the end of times is not a time for us to build fences to keep others out. The end of times is a time for us to tear down fences that everyone might be saved. Now that’s quite a contrast, wouldn’t you say?

I really think that’s what God had in mind when he sent his Son into the world in the first place. Judaism had come to adopt the notion that they were the chosen people of God, and that everyone else was summarily rejected. They had put up their fences, and their barbed wire was very sharp.

Yet in the Incarnation – in the person of Jesus Christ – it’s almost as if God was saying, "No, no, no! This is what I have in mind!" For in Jesus Christ, God’s covenant with humanity was thrown open to everyone. In Jesus Christ, all were enabled to have a relationship with God. And in Jesus Christ, the fences of our own making were forever torn down.

Apocalyptic literature paints a picture of a very darkened earth. Yet that is not a time to build fences – to try to determine who’s in and who’s out. It is, rather, a time to bear testimony. Yet how does one bear testimony?

After a devastating hurricane along the coast of North Carolina, all electrical power in one small town was out for a number of days. It was hot, humid and miserable during the day, but it was really quite frightening at night. Rumors abounded that there had been a good deal of looting. Robberies were taking place because there was no way to contact police.

One particular family – consisting of a mother and her three children – was home alone in the darkness in the aftermath of that hurricane, eating sandwiches by candle-light. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding on their front door, and they were absolutely terrified. Was a robbery about to take place? Was this a looter, trying to find out if the house was empty? There was no way to call anyone for help.

The loud knocking continued. The woman peered out the window and tried to make out the figures on the dark front porch. "Hey!" a voice called out to her. "We’ve got a big bag of ice for you, and some fresh water, too!"

It was the family’s next-door neighbors. They had come bearing gifts of ice and water. And it was a welcome gift, indeed.

As we peer out into the darkness in fear, it makes all the difference in the world whose face we see. Is it a friend, or is it a foe? We all peer out into the great unknown in fear, for our world is very dark indeed. This, as Jesus said, is the time for us to bear witness.

Apocalyptic means – and Advent means – that when we look out over the darkened and storm-filled horizon, we see the face of Jesus. There’s a great big world out there that seems to have less and less knowledge all the time as to who Jesus really is. This is not the time to build fences to keep those people out. This is the time to tell the world that God will win the day, in the end. That would indeed be a SIGN of the coming kingdom of God. So who can you tell? And who can you bring? Amen.

Dear Mariah,

Today you have received the Sacrament of Baptism. As you are little more than four months old, you will not remember this day. But your mother and I will, as will your grandparents, and everyone else in worship with us today.

What does Baptism mean? First – and perhaps foremost – it symbolizes your reception of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is God within us. Now a part of God dwells within you. In addition, it symbolizes your being washed clean of sin. At four months you do not understand sin, nor have you committed sin – although you did spit up on me one time – but I promise you, I won’t hold that against you.

Now you are a part of the Church universal, and all the people who are here today have pledged to help strengthen your family ties with the household of God. It is my hope – and the hope of the Presbyterian Church – that you will confirm the vows your mother and I took for you today by uniting with the church particular when you reach the proper age. Yet, since I will likely be teaching that class, you may have very little choice.

There is a passage in Scripture that I hope you will remember throughout the course of your life. It comes from the gospel according to Luke. A man asked Jesus, "Lord, will those who are saved be few?" It’s a timeless question – one that’s really asking how many people will there be in heaven. Jesus deftly sidestepped the issue to deal with what really matters. Don’t tend to anyone’s garden but your own when it comes to matters of eternity. He said to the man, "Strive to enter by the narrow door, for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able."

Luke calls the way to heaven a narrow door. Matthew calls it a narrow gate and a hard way. I prefer to consider it a lifelong journey and call it the narrow way. There is a narrow way which leads to God, and there is an easy way that leads somewhere else.

What Jesus means here is that faith in Christ is neither an Epicureanism that would make life promiscuous, nor an asceticism that would leave life mutilated. Epicurus was an ancient Greek philosopher who thought that knowledge and pleasure were the highest goods. That’s what Epicureanism is. It’s centered on the self, not on God. And asceticism is simply self-denial – or suffering – for spiritual uplifting. All that does is mutilate life.

Faith in Christ is neither an Epicureanism that would make life promiscuous, nor an asceticism that would leave life mutilated. Faith in Christ is a discipline that leads life to heaven, like the pruning of a plant gives it a more magnificent bloom. Faith involves discipline, and Mariah – that is what the narrow way is all about.

You’re barely four months old right now. You have so much ahead of you, such a life to live. As I cradle you in my arms I can envision some of what you will behold.

In no time, you’ll be going to school. Of course, I hope you’ll do your best and bring home "A’s" in every class. Yet there will be tremendous pressure from others for you to do poorly. It’s an unfortunate fact of life that those who do not do well in school tend to ridicule those who do. They will want you to do poorly to bring you down to their level. But all you gain by giving in is the loss of your own hopes and dreams. Mariah, that’s the easy way that leads to destruction. The narrow way – and the more difficult way – is to try to do your best in all that you do.

Believe me, I know what peer pressure is all about. You will want to be accepted by those around you and by all means, that’s important. It’s a part of socialization. You will likely have friends that can convince you to do things that your own good judgment tells you not to do. Take bungee jumping, for example. Doug, whom you will one day meet, talked me into doing it and your mother and his wife went along for the ride. I was never so scared in all my life as I was when I backed off that 75-foot platform. Your mother says she wasn’t all that afraid, but I know better. Although our experience was really pretty safe, I wonder what death-defying thrills people will seek as you approach adult-hood. I’m sure they will still involve alcohol and drugs. I sincerely hope you won’t give in just because someone wants you to do something. When they say, "But everyone else is doing it!" closer examination will tell you that’s just not so.

As you grow, I will be the only man in your life. Yet eventually, others will want to enter the picture. Please try to understand how difficult that will be for me. And pay no attention to your older brother. Right now he’s programmed. I say, "Rob, what are you going to do when someone comes over to pick Mariah up for a date?" And he says, "I will punch them out!" Yet when you begin to date in 15 or 16 years, the two of you probably won’t see eye to eye and he won’t care who you go out with – unless, of course, it’s one of his friends. But since I probably won’t let you date until you’re at least 35, it won’t matter anyway! (Just kidding.)

The trend now is to live together. A man and a woman decide to share the same living quarters prior to the commitment of marriage, much the same way as you test drive a car or try on a pair of shoes before the purchase. Probably 90% of the weddings I do are for couples who have lived together before marriage. Yet believe it or not, those who live together first actually have a higher divorce rate than those who do not. I hope that living together before marriage is no longer a trend when you grow up. You see, it’s hard to change a life of virtually no commitment to a life that involves the highest commitment.

There is a higher purpose to marriage than simply sharing a bedroom. Marriage involves committing yourself to one person in much the same way as you commit yourself to God. Life is full of fuzzy commitments, but hopefully not to your husband …and hopefully, not to God. Marriage, my dear, is the narrow way.

One day, I suspect, you will choose a vocation. Note that I chose the word "vocation" over the word "career" or "job," because the word vocation implies a sense of call. Whatever your vocation might be, I’ll do my best to support you. Yet I hope you will not base your vocation simply upon earning potential. You see, earning potential is the easy way in that you needn’t abide by Christian principle. To step on others on your way to the top is acceptable practice if earning potential is your ultimate goal. Base your vocation upon what you feel God is calling you to be. God calls ministers, doctors, teachers and homemakers. Just do your best to be what God is calling you to be.

The story is told of a woman who was used to living in the lap of luxury in every respect. She’d made it to the top and spared no expense – and spared no one – to get there. She died, and when she arrived in heaven, an angel was sent to lead her to her new living quarters. They passed by many a lovely mansion and the woman thought that each one, as they came to it, must be the one allotted to her.

When they had passed through the main streets, they came to the outskirts where the houses were much smaller. On the very fringe of town, they came to a house that was little more than a hut. "That is your eternal dwelling place," the guiding angel said. "What? That?" said the woman. "I cannot live in that!"

"I’m terribly sorry," the guiding angel said. "But that is all we could build for you with the materials you sent up!"

The standards of heaven are not the standards of earth. There is an easy way, and there is a narrow way. How does that old saying go: "The first shall be last and the last shall be first?" Choose your vocation wisely.

I leave you now with a challenge. My charge to you is this:

Mariah as you walk each day

Always take the narrow way.

There’ll always be another road

With brighter lights and lighter load.

Right now you are a darling child

With shining eyes and manners mild.

Your tiny head will one day hold

Locks of crimson, dreams of gold.

I’m sure I’ll be a doting dad,

And never want to see you sad.

I’ll do my best for your delight,

And always try to make things right.

I fear the day you’ll go your way

And want to write your own life’s play.

I hope I’ll raise you as I should

And do the best a father could.

You are a gift entrusted me

To dedicate in praise of he.

You are not mine, you’re not your own.

Your life is God’s, and God’s alone.

Corey was probably nine years old, but he was one of those kids that was really big for his age. His grandmother lived just down the street from us so in the summer of 1997, we saw a lot of Corey. He’d come to the house to play with Rob, who was nearly nine himself at the time.

Now Corey came from a very troubled background. In fact, Corey – remember, he was only nine – had already been in a great deal of serious trouble. He’d gone over to someone’s house one time to see their newborn puppies. Left alone with seven puppies, he choked them to death, one by one. What would possess a nine-year-old boy to choke seven puppies to death?

Now I’d heard about the puppy incident from my next-door-neighbor, Chuck, who looked exactly like a slightly younger version of our own Howie McCall, but that’s another story. In any case, we did not want to shun Corey, so we allowed him to play with the kids.

One summer day, I was working out in the front yard. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Corey walk between our house and Chuck’s house with our youngest son, Travis, and his friend, Thomas. (Travis was not yet four at the time, and Thomas was probably five.) Corey was carrying a rope, but I was busy – thinking about other things, I suppose – and somehow, it just didn’t register.

They were laughing and yelling, but soon it got quiet – too quiet. Then, kind of like coming to the solution of a complex math problem, a light slowly came on in my thick head. Corey has a rope, and he just walked between the houses with Travis and Thomas. I quickly walked between the houses myself to see what they were doing. There I discovered Travis and Thomas – back-to-back – as Corey wound the rope tightly around them. I said, "What’s going on here?" To which Corey replied, "We’re playing cowboys and Indians."

Now I have a tendency to be just a bit high-strung, but I think I maintained my composure fairly well. I pointed at Travis and Thomas and said, "You two, in the house!" Then I pointed at Corey and said, "You, that way!"

Maybe their fun was innocent fun, but then again, maybe it was not. I certainly wasn’t taking any chances with the lives of those two boys. I wasn’t about to wait until I over-heard the words, "Me scalp’um white man!" But seriously, it seems as if there’s more and more evil in the world these days, and that evil is being acted out by younger and younger people all the time.

Listen to this. As some of you know, my wife taught in the inner city of Youngstown, Ohio for three years. If you’ve never been to Youngstown, trust me – there is an inner city.

Leslie taught music in what was probably the toughest area of all. Over the course of three years, she’d been hit, kicked, punched, scratched and bit. One day, as she moved through the classroom, a little girl walked over to her…and clamped her hands around Leslie’s throat. Did I mention that this little girl was a third grader? Leslie said she broke the child’s grip and – horrified – looked into the girl’s eyes. She did not see hatred or anger or malice. She said she saw dead eyes, like a shark going after its prey. There was nothing there at all.

I could cite case after case after case, and I’m sure that you could too. There seems to be more and more evil in the world these days, and that evil is being acted out by younger and younger people all the time. Why is that? Perhaps we could explain it from a psychological perspective and say that those kids are acting of a bad home environment in an effort to gain attention – any attention. But I am not a psychologist, I am a theologian. Is there a way to approach this behavior from a theological perspective as well?

I think there is. Hear me out on this. I postulate the theory that there’s an absence of the Holy Spirit. We know the Holy Spirit as God in us, and I think we’ve ignored the efficacy of the Holy Spirit long enough.

Now before I go on, let me say this. The Holy Spirit cannot be equated with the conscience. I learned that when I did a stint as a prison chaplain in seminary. Prisoners have a conscience. It’s just that that conscience allows them to do some fairly outrageous things. I’m not going to go into detail about that. Suffice it to say that the Holy Spirit – God within us – cannot be equated with the conscience.

As Christians, we believe the Holy Spirit comes at the time of our baptisms. In the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke, Jesus was baptized by John in the River Jordan. It was there that the Holy Spirit descended upon him like a dove. That’s part and parcel to our theology of baptism. Among other things, we believe the sacrament of baptism is symbolic of one’s reception of the Holy Spirit.

But just what exactly is this Holy Spirit? We know God the Father as God over and above us. We know God the Son as God with us and for us. And we know God the Holy Spirit – we know God the Holy Spirit – as God in us. When the Holy Spirit comes into our lives, we come to know God as our heavenly Father, and we come to know ourselves as children of God. And what is the evidence that the Holy Spirit is at work in our lives? The evidence…is love. The Holy Spirit is at work within us when we respond to others with love.

The Greek word for Spirit is "pneuma." Thus, the study of the Spirit is called "pneumatology." In a college course called "Pneumatology 101," you would learn three basic things. The Holy Spirit is God in us. The Holy Spirit teaches us that God is our Father and we are his children. And evidence that the Holy Spirit is efficacious – that the Holy Spirit is active – is love. There’s your "Pneumatology 101" course in a nutshell.

As I mentioned before, we believe the Holy Spirit comes to us at the time of our baptisms. Can we thus conclude that baptism could resolve all our problems? If these troubled children were baptized, would they be magically, mysteriously transformed? Maybe, but I think there’s more to it than that. You knew there would be, didn’t you?

The second woman looked at me and said, "The Presbyterian Church on Liberty Street?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Oh, I used to go there. But it’s not the same since Pastor Dave left." What am I supposed to say to that? I said, "Well, I’m not Dave. I suppose things are different now."

Truer words have never been spoken. Baptism is the right thing to do for your child, but then you also have to take them back. Baptism is symbolic of one’s reception of the Holy Spirit. But like I said a moment ago, baptism will not resolve all our problems. For in addition to receiving the Holy Spirit, we must nurture the Holy Spirit as well. Did you catch that? In addition to receiving the Holy Spirit, we must nurture the Holy Spirit as well.

Try this analogy on for size. The Holy Spirit within us is like the flickering flame of a newly-started campfire. Every time we turn our backs on opportunities for spiritual growth, it’s like we throw a bucket of cold water on the fire. Every time we take advantage of opportunities for spiritual growth, it’s like we place dried kindling on the fire. Only in taking advantage of those opportunities will we stoke the flames of the Spirit. Only in nurturing the Holy Spirit will we begin to respond to others with love.

I don’t think I can be any more clear than that. I know in our society today, many people can take the church or leave it. They can turn to God when it’s convenient or necessary, then rely on their own devices when it’s not. It’s a simple matter of stoking the flames of the Holy Spirit, or dousing them with cold water.

I think you see what dousing the flames of the Holy Spirit with cold water has gotten us. There seems to be more and more evil in the world these days, and that evil is being acted out by younger and younger people all the time. Yet there is something we can do about that.

I am quickly developing a vision for the ministry of this church. I think what we need to do is nurture the Holy Spirit in the children of this community. Therefore, the target of our ministry needs to be that 25 to 50 year-old age bracket. We absolutely, positively must reach the parents of those children!

You know, when I graduated from high school some 26 years ago, it seemed like pretty much everyone belonged to a church. That is not the case today. Now what is it? One in three? One in four? One in five? We can no longer sit on our hands and believe we live in a Christian society – or at least a society that espouses Christian values – because, I’m telling you, WE DO NOT! Evidence of the love wrought by the indwelling Holy Spirit is noticeably lacking.

I have performed 144 weddings in my ministerial career and it’s my experience that in every single one of them, at least one thing went wrong. Of course, that necessarily implies that about a thousand things went right, but it always seems as if one little thing goes wrong. At this point, I wish I could tell you of some hysterical wedding misadventure, but I can’t. The so-called "disasters" are usually simple things like a candle that will not light or a runner that breaks loose and follows the ushers down the center aisle.

As I think about it, the greatest wedding disaster I’ve ever had happened quite recently. The couple was living in Tennessee and they wanted me to marry them in Ohio. They bought their wedding license in Ohio’s Columbiana County, and we did the wedding in the chapel at Mount Union College…which is in Stark County. As luck would have it, since they were from out of state, Columbiana County would not honor the license since the wedding was not in Columbiana County. If they’d been from Ohio the license would have been valid anywhere in the state, but since they were not from Ohio, the license was not valid. It would have been nice had I known that BEFORE the wedding, but such is life.

Do you see the problem? They got back from their honeymoon only to discover that they weren’t really married – at least not as far as the state was concerned. Fortunately, the couple saw the humor in the situation. They got remarried by a judge in Tennessee. As the bride later put it, "Now we have two anniversaries!"

Weddings are special events and naturally, we want everything to be perfect. I’m sure the couple of whom we read in the gospel according to John wanted their wedding to be perfect as well. But then, disaster struck. They ran out of wine at the wedding feast.

Now in those days, this was considered a huge social blunder. To run out of wine at the wedding feast would have subjected the couple to ridicule for many years to come. Ah, something went wrong with the wedding at Cana in Galilee.

Fortunately, Jesus was there to head off disaster. He commanded some of the servants to fill six stone jars with water. Then, miraculously, Jesus turned the water into wine. And it wasn’t the cheap stuff – it was the best wine that had been served all day. Jesus turned water into wine and saved that couple from social embarrassment. If my math is correct, he made somewhere between 120 and 180 gallons of the stuff!

Now there are a number of things we can say at this point, but first I want to say this. Saving a couple from social embarrassment seems like a trivial thing, does it not? This miracle of turning water into wine is hardly on the same level as raising a child from the dead or curing a man of leprosy. But you see, that’s the point. No matter is too trivial for God. Any thing that vexes us can be taken to God in prayer in the name of Jesus Christ.

Ministers learn this kind of thing early on. Seminary is hard. I, personally, thought it was a heck of a lot harder than college. I remember saying – on more than one occasion – as final exams loomed upon the horizon, "Lord, if you really want me to be a minister, then you’re going to have to help me pass this test!" Of course, seeking God’s aid on a test does not relinquish one of the responsibility of studying, but the point remains the same. No matter is too trivial for God. Any thing that vexes us can be taken to God in prayer in the name of Jesus Christ…be it a test, be it a relationship, be it a financial matter, or be it an ingrown toenail. We are invited to seek God’s aid, be the matter significant, or be it not. Such are the fringe benefits of being a child of God.

Yet believe it or not, this passage has a profound theological significance as well. Read any commentary on the gospel according to John and the authors will reach the same conclusion on the miracle at Cana. This was the first miracle Jesus performed. The significance is that it revealed Jesus’ power, and because of this miracle, his disciples believed in him. So aside from resolving a bride and groom’s dilemma, this miracle enabled the disciples to see that there was more to Jesus Christ than meets the eye.

Now remember, the wedding at Cana took place just a few days after Jesus had called his disciples. Surely Jesus was a captivating personality, so much so that the disciples had left their jobs and their loved ones to follow him. Ah, but now they saw there was much more to him than that. Turning water into wine was a bit out of the ordinary, and the disciples began to see for themselves that Jesus had the power of God.

That’s a crucial element to faith. People don’t truly begin to believe in Jesus Christ – or to believe in God, for that matter – until they experience the grace of God for them-selves. For that, my friends, is when our faith moves from our heads to our hearts.

Did you ever see the movie – or read the book – A Man Called Peter? It was written by his widow, and it was about the Reverend Peter Marshall, the Scottish preacher who made good in America.

At one point in the story, his wife, Catherine, was bedfast for many months. Peter was doing his best to manage the bustling New York Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C., as well as to manage the household during his wife’s illness. Then the furnace in the basement of the manse went out and it was something like the proverbial last straw. He dropped in a heap on the stairs and turned to God in prayer.

To make a long story short, he realized that he was trying to manage everything by way of his own will and power. He’d finally reached his limit, and he begged God for help. God answered his prayers, and his spirit was renewed. That’s what it means to experience the grace of God for ourselves. God comes to us when we turn to him in the midst of our greatest tribulations, and miraculously transforms the situation. If you’ve ever experienced such a thing, then you have experienced the grace of God. If you’ve every experienced such a thing, then you know that the love of God is real. And that, my friends, is how our faith moves from our heads to our hearts.

The disciples witnessed the power of God when they saw Jesus turn water into wine. They saw first-hand what Jesus could do, and they came to realize that this faith business was more than just mere words. The power of God – and the love of God – the disciples saw was real.

That’s the theological significance of this particular passage, but I think there’s a spiritual significance as well. Jesus transformed water into wine. The spiritual significance of this is that Jesus took the ordinary – water – and transformed it into the extraordinary – wine. Jesus has the power to transform the ordinary into the extra-ordinary.

Our lives are filled with the ordinary, are they not? Take the relationship between a husband and a wife, for example. After so many years of marriage, the relationship can become routine – the relationship can become ordinary. Now I call "ordinary" that which we take for granted. Let me repeat that: I call "ordinary" that which we take for granted.

We do have a tendency to take a husband or a wife for granted, do we not? Yet somehow, that should never be the case. A marriage, ideally, is based upon love. And love is something that should never be taken for granted. For when it comes right down to it, is there anything in the world we crave more than to love and to be loved? Again, is there anything in the world we crave more than to love and to be loved? While in theory the person we have pledged to love and who has pledged to love us should never be taken for granted, in practice, that is sometimes the case. We do take him or her for granted, and the marriage relationship can become ordinary.

Yet like I said, Jesus transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. How does he to that? Well, I can’t map out the formula. If I could, I’d write a book, go on the lecture circuit, and retire early. But God – and the Pastor Nominating Committee that brought me here just three months ago – would never let me do that.

Let me just say this. When a couple feels as if their relationship is becoming ordinary, they should sit down together and pray. They should plead with God to transform their relationship. They should ask God to make the "ordinary," extra-ordinary. I cannot say HOW God will make it happen, I can only say God will. God can and will transform your ordinary into the extraordinary if you take the time and effort to ask. (And since we’re all Americans here, I should probably add that this is likely to take more than one five-minute prayer!)

Perhaps this should be done with every relationship in our lives. Perhaps this should be done with every aspect of ourselves that seems to have become "ordinary." This isn’t about getting ahead or being successful. Instead, it’s more about finding that sense of peace and purpose for which we all so desperately long.

And when that happens, our very lives will be transformed from ordinary into extra-ordinary. Other people will begin to notice. What’s more, they will likely be inexplicably drawn to us because we’ll have something they desperately want.

Uh oh, am I talking about evangelism here? I think I am. That’s one of the primary points of Christianity’s influence. It has an infectious tendency to draw others in.

We’ve all heard about these mega-churches that are sweeping the nation, haven’t we? They’ve got upbeat music, they’ve got a motivational speaker in the pulpit, and they’ve got hundreds of people in the pews. Now I’m not going to address the contemporary music or the theological problems I have with a motivational speaker in the pulpit right now. Today, rather, I want to talk about the people in the pews. Why are so many of them there?

I once had a conversation with a 20-year-old girl who attended a mega-church. Since she had been raised in a more traditional mainline church, I asked her why she went. She said she liked the music, and she liked the preaching. But what really drew her was the sincerity of the congregation. They were open, they were welcoming, they were loving. In her opinion, that congregation truly lived the faith they professed. In other words, they were REAL.

We Presbyterians have been called "The Frozen Chosen" for far too long. It is you – the congregation – that can truly drawn new people to this church. It is not something we can fake, however. It is something that has to take place at the very core of our beings. We must be transformed.

 Love is that first feeling you feel before all the bad stuff gets in the way.

 When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails any more. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis, too. That’s love.

 When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.

 Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and then they go out and smell each other.

 Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.

 Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings.

 Love is what makes you smile when you are tired.

 Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is okay.

 Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss!

 Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas, if you stop opening presents and listen.

 If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.

 When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t love you any more. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love you even more.

 There are two kinds of love – our love and God’s love. But God makes both kinds of them.

 Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.

 Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.

 During my piano recital, I was on stage and scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. My daddy loves me, so I wasn’t scared any more.

 My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.

 Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken.

 Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty, and still says he is "handsomer" than Denzel Washington.

 Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.

 I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and then has to go out and buy new ones.

 I let my big sister pick on me because my mom says she only picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her!

 Love cards like Valentine’s cards say stuff on them that we’d like to say ourselves, but we wouldn’t be caught dead saying.

 When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.

And last but not least, these two may be the best of all:

 You really shouldn’t say, "I love you," unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.

 And, God could have said magic words to make the nails fall off the cross, but he didn’t. That’s love.

All these things were said by children, ages four through eight, in answer to the question, "What does love mean?" Ah, "Out of the mouths of babes," they say. Could anyone express the meaning of love any better than those kids?

The Apostle Paul takes a stab at defining love himself in the passage we read from the first book of Corinthians. What does love mean? Paul says love is patient, love is kind. Love is not jealous or boastful. Love is not arrogant or rude. Love, Paul says, doesn’t insist upon its own way. Love is not irritable or resentful. Love does not rejoice at wrong, rather, love rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. That’s how Paul answers the question, "What does love mean?"

Now we’re all Presbyterians here. Therefore, we have a moral obligation to take a scholarly approach to the words of the Apostle Paul, do we not? That way we can avoid any gushy sentimentalism and keep this business of love at arm’s length. Far be it from us to let down our defenses and become too emotional.

As you know, the letters of Paul – of which the first book of Corinthians is one – were originally written in Greek. Just as the Eskimos have eleven different words for snow, so the Greeks had four different words for love.

By the way – speaking of snow – I’ve discovered that in northwest Pennsylvania, there is more than one word for snow. I had never heard precipitation called "wintry mix" until I moved here. And now I know what a "wintry mix" is. It’s freezing rain mixed with snow. But I digress.

The English language has one word for love, while the ancient Greek language had four. There was eros, philos, storge and agape. Eros is passionate love, like that which exists between a couple about to be married, which some experts refer to as "romantic infatuation." Philos is the kind of love that exists between best friends. It’s a depth of feeling that can be remarkably rekindled after many years of separation.

Storge is the kind of love that exists between a parent and a child. It’s a deep, transformative love that, in my mind, defies description. Yet it’s really quite different than the love between a husband and a wife, or between best friends, isn’t it?

Then there’s agape. Agape is actually the word the Apostle Paul uses in our passage from Corinthians. Agape is defined as unconditional love. Agape is the love the Apostle Paul is describing, but what – exactly – does agape love really look like?

After many years of trying in vain, I think that now I can finally illustrate it by way of experience. Listen to a little story that, in my mind, depicts unconditional love to a tee. Agape love looks something like this:

In my last congregation, there was an unbelievably gifted pianist by the name of Paul Heins. He’d grown up in Salem, but was then living and working in Washington, D.C. Of course, he’d always come home at Christmas, and once again in the summer, and perform in the church.

Paul became the paid accompanist for a choir in Washington, D.C. The choir was called, "The Gay and Lesbian Chorus of Washington, D.C." It seems the choir was going to be performing at some festival in Cincinnati, so on the way, they wanted to stop off in Salem to perform a concert there as well. My choir director said, "Let me write him back and tell him we’re not able to do that." He was trying to save me the agony. But I said, "No, no. Let me take this request to the session." After all, that’s how we do things in the Presbyterian Church.

So I took Paul’s request for a concert in Salem to the session. The discussion was interesting, to say the least, and in the end, the issue was tabled. So the next month we discussed it again, and the session voted to allow the choir to perform in our church. The vote, as you might suspect, was not unanimous.

Thus, I wrote Paul a letter to extend him the invitation. I remember writing something like, "This is Salem, Ohio, not Washington, D.C. Attitudes here are quite different than they are there. But in the end, the session’s love and appreciation and admiration for you won out. Your choir is welcome to perform in Salem this summer."

Now you can about guess who the opposition blamed. Even though it was a session decision, still, I got a number of phone calls. It’s not easy to convince some people that Jesus would not have been a conservative Republican akin to Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell. As I later said to my organist, though, "I always wanted a great ‘cause’ like Martin Luther King, but this one isn’t exactly what I had in mind!"

So Paul and his choir prepared to come to Salem amid fierce support and fierce opposition. But here’s the point about agape love. I said to my daughter, who was only ten at the time, "Mariah, do you understand what homosexuality is?" She said, "I think so." Then I asked, "Do you understand what all this fuss is about?" Again she said, "I think so." So I asked her, "What do you think about all this fuss?" She said, "They’re just people, Dad!" They’re just people.

Don’t worry, I’m not trying to champion any cause here. Nor am I trying to take a theological stand. We’re talking about agape love. Agape is defined as unconditional love. Agape love cares for gay and for straight, for Republican and for Democrat, for Christian and for Jew and for Muslim. Agape love cares for everyone, because after all, they’re just people. And love is meant to be all about caring for people.

I know, I know, some would say to this, "Love the sinner, hate the sin!" And that’s fine. It’s just that loving the sinner tends to get lost in the mix. Hate closes off, while love opens up.

Paul concludes this passage by saying, "So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." Paul was right, you know. Many wars have been fought and many terrors have been wrought, all in the name of faith. Many poor have been slighted and many justices have gone undone while people set their hopes on their own salvation.

Just last week I was having a conversation with someone in my office. Now you know how it is with informal conversation. You tend to roam from one subject to another, and then to another. Well in the course of our conversation, somehow we got to talking about children speaking their very first words. She told me a story about a little girl in Meadville, and how she spoke her very first words. I thought the story was so good that I had to use it to introduce this sermon.

As I understand it, right here in Meadville, there was a little girl who was four years old, and still she had not spoken a single word. Naturally, her parents were quite concerned, so they took her to one specialist after another to find out what the problem was. And one specialist after another told them that there was absolutely nothing wrong with their little girl. She would speak when she felt the need.

Well it just so happened that shortly thereafter, they took a family vacation to Niagara Falls. That four-year-old girl took one look at the majesty of Niagara Falls. Then she looked up at her parents and spoke her very first words: "My Dawd that’s a lot of water!"

Ladies and gentlemen, that is supposed to be a true story. Like the specialists said, this little girl just needed a reason to speak. And once she was sufficiently impressed, she responded in kind. Keep that thought in mind. Once she was sufficiently impressed, she responded in kind.

In the passage I read from the gospel according to Luke, Jesus has reached the shores of the lake of Gennesaret, also known as the Sea of Galilee. Up to this point in time, Jesus has been roaming the hillsides of Judea, preaching in the synagogues and healing in the streets. Now at this point we need to note two important things. Number one, Jesus is developing quite a reputation – as a healer and as a preacher. And number two, Jesus – at this point – is quite alone. For it’s in this passage in the fifth chapter of Luke that Jesus calls his first disciples.

How did it happen? Jesus arrived at the shores of the Sea of Galilee. As our passage says, "The people pressed upon him to hear the word of God." Isn’t that something? Can you imagine people today pressing upon the Church to hear the word of God – literally begging to hear more preaching? Ah, would that it were so…but I digress.

On the shores of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus sees two boats. They belong to four fishermen, named Simon, Andrew, James and John. (Simon, of course, would later come to be known as Peter, but we’re not quite to that point yet.) The four fishermen were not in their boats. They’d been fishing all night and had not caught a thing. Thus, they were calling it a day and were nearby washing out their fishing nets.

Now try to imagine this scene from Simon and Andrew, James and John’s perspective. They’ve been up all night fishing, and they were completely unsuccessful. Then here comes this Jesus character, surrounded by what might have been up to 100 people. Surely they’d heard rumors about this Jesus; word spread rapidly throughout the region in those days. Then, here he was – right there in their midst. Now they’d get to hear first-hand what the fuss was all about.

Jesus got into Simon’s boat and asked him to put out a little from the land. That way he could see everyone and address them properly. Simon – tired though he was – obliged Jesus’ request. He put out from the land and Jesus taught the people from the boat.

What did Jesus say? No one knows for sure. My guess is that he told them of the majesty of God and how important each and every one of them was to God. Jesus had an uncanny ability to touch the hearts of those to whom he spoke.

Surely Simon’s heart was warmed as well. Surely he sensed that there was something unique about this Jesus fellow – something special, indeed. Then Jesus told Simon to let down his nets for a catch. It was a ludicrous request! Simon knew full well that there weren’t any fish in that part of the sea. Remember, he’d been fishing there all night! Yet still, Simon said, "At your word, I will let down the nets."

You know the story. They caught so many fish that their nets were breaking. Then James and John came out with their boat, too. They pulled in so many fish that the boats began to sink! It was there that they saw quite clearly that Jesus had the power to meet their earthly needs.

Then what did Simon do? He dropped to his knees at Jesus’ feet and cried, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!" You see, that’s what happens to us when we truly encounter the grace of God. We recognize that we are not worthy of it, and what we receive is totally undeserved. Yet grace, by definition, is called "unmerited favor." No one deserves it. That’s why they call it grace.

Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid. From this point on, you will be catching men," or, the non-sexist version: "You will be catching human beings." And that, my friends, was Simon’s call to discipleship. Here Jesus received his first four disciples: Simon and Andrew, James and John. As it says in verse 11, "And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything, and followed him."

Remember the little girl speaking her very first words? "My Dawd, that’s a lot of water!" Like I said, once she was sufficiently impressed, she responded in kind. So it was with Simon and Andrew, James and John. They were sufficiently impressed with Jesus, and they responded in kind. They left everything, and followed him.

I am truly struck by those words: "They left everything and followed him." What did they leave behind? They left their boats and they left their nets…and I think we can safely assume that they left all those fish on the shore there, as well. And what about their families? We know that James and John left their father behind. (That’s what it says in the gospel of Matthew.) Yet it’s also widely suspicioned that Simon Peter was married. What are we to make of the statement, "They left everything and followed him?" And is that statement literally applicable to us today? Are we, too, to leave everything in order to follow Jesus Christ? What do you think?

I think the answer is, "Yes…and no." Simon and Andrew, James and John left every-thing and followed Jesus Christ. But think about the other people gathered on the shore that day. Did they leave everything to follow Jesus Christ? No, they did not. In fact, human nature being what it is, some of them probably grabbed the fish that Simon and Andrew, James and John left on the shore…and sold them! The point is that Simon and Andrew, James and John were called to leave everything and follow. The crowd gathered on the shore was not called that way.

So is the statement, "They left everything and followed him," literally applicable to us today? The answer is, "Yes and no." It depends upon one’s call. Each of us is called to follow Jesus Christ, yet each of us is called in different ways.

Yet here’s how I think all of us are called. As Christians, we are all called to follow Jesus Christ. We are all called to prioritize our faith. In theory we are called to prioritize our faith, yet in practice – in practice – I think something quite different tends to happen.

Consider what I call THE BOXES OF LIFE. First of all, there’s our faith box. This is who we are in relation to our church or in relationship with God. Then there is our work box. This is who we are when we are at work. Then there is our family box. This is who we are in relationship with our families. And finally, there is our personal box. This is who we are in our personal lives…this is who we are when we think no one else is looking.

These boxes of life tend to be the four distinctive ways we relate to the world. We’re not the same people at work as we are at home, are we? And often times we’re not the same person at church as we are when we’re at a party. We tend to keep all four boxes neatly aligned on a shelf in our inner closets, and draw from one as we have need.

Yet there’s a problem with that. You see, our faith box is not meant to be one box alongside the others. Our faith box is meant to be over and above the others, and the others draw their life from the faith box. Do you see what I’m trying to say? As a disciple of Jesus Christ, our faith should come to rule every aspect of our lives. Our faith should influence our work life, our family life, and our personal life. And when that is not the case, some very serious consequences can arise.

Let me give you a "presidential" example. Imagine, if you will, a United States President. By faith, he is a Southern Baptist. His family consists of a wife and a daughter. His work, as president, is reasonably important. Yet in his personal life, he gets caught up in one lurid affair after another. We say, "How can that happen?" It’s simple. In church, he’s one person. At work, he’s another. With his family, he’s another person still. And in his personal life – in his life when he thinks no one else is looking – he tends to act on impulse. That’s what happens when the boxes of life are placed side-by-side. That’s what happens when our faith does not impact the other aspects of our lives.

Tom Anderson and Sabrina Root were married in August of 1999. I assume the wed-ding took place in the Philadelphia area, since this story first appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer. Tom and Sabrina had a wedding that checked out with a $34,000.00 price tag. Now Tom is a bartender and Sabrina is a hair stylist. How did a bartender and a hair stylist afford a $34,000.00 wedding? And no, the money did not come from Mom and Dad.

Here’s how they did it. Tom and Sabrina got corporate sponsorship for their wedding. In other words, they sold advertising. Company names appeared on invitations and thank-you notes. Company names were printed on tags at the buffet table and on little scrolls at the dinner tables. Sabrina drew the line at having advertising banners draped across the center aisle at the church – I’m hoping the minister had a say in that as well – but there was a verbal "thank-you" that followed the first toast at the reception. I can about imagine. The best man concludes his toast by saying, "Tom, Sabrina – I hope you have a wonderful life together. This toast is brought to you by your friends at Miller High Life, the champagne of beers!"

Chalk one up to American ingenuity, right? Why not have the best if you can find a way to swing it? We seem to be convinced these days that more will make us happier – more cars, more clothes, bigger houses, bigger TVs. People often seem to think their problems would be solved if only they had a little more money.

This constant drive for more, more, more is like a virus that one recent book calls "affluenza." It’s the disease of affluence. We seem to believe that more will make us happy, but we never seem to be able to have quite enough. Compared to a generation or two ago, many people in our nation do have greater wealth than did their parents. Yet at the same time, divorce rates are higher, teen suicide is on the rise, clinical depression is more common, and there are more and more out-of-wedlock births. We have more, and all the while we suffer from a national sense of anxiety, stress and fatigue. Such is the fallout from the disease of "affluenza."

Our nation enjoys unprecedented prosperity, yet still – one child in six in our nation lives in poverty – and millions have no health insurance. There are huge and growing disparities in income between the rich and the poor. As author David G. Myers has written, "The contemporary American paradox may be that of material prosperity in an age of spiritual hunger." And as Doug Oldenburg – a former General Assembly Moderator and President of Columbia Theological Seminary – recently wrote, "When individualism is taken to an extreme, individuals become its ironic casualties. Greed – and always wanting more – have led straight to the corporate scandals at Enron, in money market funds, and elsewhere." Ah, this disease called "affluenza" may be more real than we think.

Oldenburg concludes his piece by saying, "Are we now happier than we were 40 years ago in America? We are not. We are twice as rich as we were 40 years ago, but we are less happy, and we are less satisfied." Perhaps we truly do live in a paradoxical age of material prosperity and spiritual hunger.

Jesus addresses this paradox, in a manner of speaking, in the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke. This is Luke’s version of what the gospel of Matthew calls "The Sermon on the Mount." In Luke it is referred to as "The Sermon on the Plain." The words are similar, but listen to what Jesus has to say about the paradox of material prosperity and spiritual hunger:

Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.

Blessed are you that hunger now, for you shall be satisfied.

Blessed are you that weep now, for you shall laugh.

Blessed are you when men hate you, exclude you, and revile you on account of my name.

Jesus says that God is with the poor, the hungry, the sorrowful and the despised, and that in the eternal scheme of things, there will be a reversal of fortune. "These are the blessed," Jesus says, but look who he seems to believe is going to suffer in the end:

Woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation.

Woe to you that are full now, for you shall hunger.

Woe to you that laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep.

Woe to you, when all men speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets.

Now obviously, I could build a sermon around every single one of these blessings and woes. But I’m guessing no one wants to be here until 2:00 this afternoon. So let’s try to take an overview of this passage. Why are the poor blessed and the rich destined for woe? Why would Jesus seem to bless hunger and appear to condemn a satisfied stomach? What is Jesus really trying to say here?

Does Jesus mean that Christians should not enjoy material things? Are we hereby called to give away everything we have and live like ascetics? Are we meant to feel guilty for enjoying a decent meal, for living in a comfortable home, or for driving reliable transportation?

Think about it. Who would really want to go back in time about 100 years? Does anyone really want to live before indoor plumbing, when illness that is now easily cured actually killed a lot of people, when educational opportunities were limited, when life expectancy was shorter, when there was no Social Security and little safety net for the poor? Would anyone really want to go back to that? I really don’t think so. At least I know I wouldn’t! It’s like I always say, "Roughing it, to me, is Motel 6!"

Perhaps the real lesson here is responsible consumption. How does that old saying go: "Live simply so that others may simply live?" In order to battle our modern-day "affluenza" and heed the words of Christ, perhaps we need to deliberately set a few priorities. Perhaps we need to say, "NO!" to the temptation to buy that which we can afford, but do not really need. Perhaps when we do splurge, we should consider giving an equal amount to charity or to the church.

Now this is not a stewardship sermon – at least it didn’t start out that way – but listen to this. We Presbyterians are now the denomination with the highest household income in the nation. It used to be the Episcopalians, but now it’s us. Yet in spite of our abundance – in spite of our prosperity – the percentage of giving to the church is actually lower now than it was at the time of the Great Depression. People gave 3.3% of their income to the church in the 1930s. Today, it’s closer to 2%. And another painful reality is this: the wealthy tend to give a smaller percentage than those who are living on a fixed income.

This has led to a tremendous crisis nationwide. Mainline denominations in general – and Presbyterian churches in particular – are struggling to fund their programs. Even in this church, we are having to find a way to cut back the budget. At this point, we’d be hard pressed to afford an associate pastor. And I’ve learned the hard way: the first thing people want to cut back on is mission, yet that’s the last place the church should ever cut back. Mission is the lifeblood of the church. But I digress.

We are a nation suffering from the affects of "affluenza." We need to learn to be more responsible in our consumption, and we need to learn to set priorities. Yet still, how can Jesus say, "Blessed are you poor," and "Woe to you that are rich?" Are the poor destined for heaven and the rich destined for someplace else? Or is there something else at work here?

Listen to a story – a mission trip story. Last summer, I took a group of teenagers on a mission trip to Mexico. We slept on air mattresses on the floor of a ramshackle church at night. The cockroaches were about this big. When you turned on the lights at night, they didn’t scurry away. They looked at you as if to say, "What are you gonna do now?"

During our devotions one night, I had everyone reflect on their experiences so far. Now one of the boys on the trip came from a very well-to-do family. He seemed to have everything, and he saw a people who seemed to have nothing. Yet as he reflected on his experiences, he broke down and sobbed bitterly. You see, these so-called "poor" had the one thing that was missing in his life. They had relationships with each other, and they had love. Suddenly he realized how blessed these poor really were. They had what we all need most: someone to love, and someone who loves us in return.

Gary and Kaye had been married for seven or eight years when their marriage ran into trouble. Now if you read U.S.A. Today, you saw on the front page of last Thursday’s paper that this is fairly typical. Marriages tend to undergo changes – and often times run aground – after seven or eight years. That’s why we’ve invented that purely American phrase, "the seven year itch."

Well Gary and Kay had been married for seven or eight years and their marriage had seemed to run aground. The matter drew to a head when Kaye sparked a relationship with another man over the Internet, and Gary was not happy about that. In fact, Kaye wanted to make a trip to Florida to meet with this man, and Gary was especially not happy about that.

So they called me and asked if I would meet with them to discuss their marital turmoil. Now I am not a certified marriage therapist, but when the writing on the wall is in plain English, I think I’m capable of reading it. Gary had grown distant in their relation-ship, so we talked about ways to rekindle the romance. And one of the things I said to Kaye was this: "You have absolutely, positively got to end this Internet relationship NOW!" (Dr. Phil would be proud of me, wouldn’t he?)

I don’t think that’s what Kaye wanted to hear. Now don’t misunderstand me. I am not blaming Kaye for their marital problems. There are always two sides to every story. Even in troubled marriages, it takes two to tango. But I saw that Internet relationship as a major impediment to a healthy marriage.

From a theological standpoint, that Internet relationship served as a primary source of temptation. We pray to God in the Lord’s Prayer, "…lead us not into temptation," yet I think we have some responsibility in that as well. If you’re on the Atkins Diet, you don’t go into a bakery. If you’re struggling with impulse buying, you need to throw all those credit card applications away. If you want your marriage to survive, then you don’t strike up an Internet relationship with a member of the opposite sex. If you don’t want to get burned, you need to stay away from the fire. In other words, in order to overcome temptation, one would be wise to stay as far away from the source of that temptation as one possibly can.

Jesus encountered temptation in the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke. At first glance, one might be inclined to think that Jesus’ temptation came at a particularly weak moment in his life. He’d been in the wilderness for forty days, and as it says in verse two: "And he ate nothing in those days; and when they were ended, he was hungry." I can well imagine that he was.

That’s when the "devil" came to him. (We’ll not go into the whys and wherefores of the devil right now. Suffice it to say that there is one, although I cannot explain the reason why.) The devil said to Jesus, "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread." He was tempting Jesus to prove his divinity. And Jesus simply said, "It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone.’"

Then the devil tempted him with worldly power. He gave Jesus the chance to rule the world, and Jesus simply said, "It is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve.’" Then the devil took Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple and told Jesus to throw himself down…just to see if God would rescue him from the fall. Jesus replied, "You shall not tempt the Lord your God." At that, the devil departed from him until an opportune time. In other words, it was like the devil was saying to him, "I’ll be back!"

Jesus was triumphant in what we might call "The First Temptation of Christ." Like I said initially, the devil came to him at what would appear on the surface to be a particularly weak moment. But was it really a particularly weak moment?

Jesus had been fasting for forty days. He had not eaten a bite. For those forty days, Jesus was not focused on worldly things, like bodily sustenance. Jesus had spent the last forty days in prayer – in constant communion with God. His focus for forty days was exclusively on God. The fact of the matter is, Jesus would not have been weak at all, at least not from a spiritual standpoint. Jesus would have been at the peak of his spiritual powers. Overcoming temptation here was really a piece of cake.

Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Jesus fasted for forty days in the wilder-ness. People can fast for forty days. I do not recommend that you try it without working up to it, however. But fasting is a spiritual discipline. When we fast, we forget temporal things, like the needs of the body. Instead, we focus exclusively on eternal things, like God. If you spent forty straight days doing nothing but praying to God, trust me – your spirit would be strong, too. You would see the things of the world in a different light, and you would more easily overcome temptation as well.

Few of us, however, can take a forty day hiatus to do nothing but pray. Yet still, we can practice the presence of God in everything we do. As we spend time with our children, we can remember what a precious gift they are from God. As we go to work, we can think of what a delight it is that God has provided us with a means to provide for our families. Even as we do mundane things like carry out the garbage, we can thank God for the strength to carry the bags, or for the fact that we live in a society with the abundance to throw away more food than some people have to eat.

It’s all in how you look at things. We can practice the presence of God in everything we do. And the more we focus on God – the more time we spend in prayer – the easier it becomes for us to overcome temptation. Hey, it worked for Jesus, didn’t it?

So we overcome these physical temptations by avoiding them and practicing the presence of God. But what about our psychological temptations? Our lives are plagued with "what ifs," are they not? What if I’d married that other person who offered? What if I hadn’t married the one I did? What if I’d worked a little harder in school? What if I hadn’t made some of the mistakes I’ve made? What if I’d said, "I love you," a little more than I did? What if I’d said, "I hate you," a little less than I did? What if I’d taken that job that seemed to have so much promise? What if I hadn’t lost the one that did?

Sure, focusing on God is the way to overcome temptation. Yet still our lives are filled with "what ifs." These "what ifs" lead to temptation themselves. They remind us that our lives could be so much different – and we can’t help but think they’d somehow be better – if only the "what ifs" had gone another way.

Yet I think that’s the blessing of the life of faith. We are reminded that God has a plan, and that God can make all things work for good. Ladies and gentlemen, I say to you: "You are exactly where God wants you to be right now." The mistakes you think you’ve made, the bad things that have happened, the decisions you made or failed to make…have all led you to this particular point. The question now is, "Where do we go from here?"

Once upon a time, a mother and her sixteen-year-old daughter were driving home from church after listening to a sermon on the meaning of Lent. Lent, of course, is that 40-day period that runs from Ash Wednesday to Easter – not counting Sundays – that originally was supposed to be a time of fasting and preparation for the resurrection of Christ. Yet as they were driving home, that sixteen-year-old girl said to her mother, "I still don’t understand what Lent is all about!"

"Look at it this way," said her mother. "During Lent, you’re supposed to try extra hard to improve your conduct and become a better person. Lent is a time to realize that it is wise to live every day as if it were your last."

"But mother," the daughter replied, "I tried living every day as if it were my last…and you grounded me for it!" Ah, there are two ways of living every day as if it were your last, are there not? One would be to live like that 1980s singer, Prince, advocated in a song: "Tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999!" The other would be to set our proverbial "houses" in order so we would not be ashamed to stand before our Maker at a moment’s notice. (Let me go on record here as saying that I advocate the latter.)

Jesus Christ truly lived each and every day of his life as if it were his last. He lived a righteous life and he spoke out against injustice – even when his speech offended the so-called "powers that be." And what did it get him? We get a sense of what it got him in the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke.

We don’t know exactly where Jesus was at the time, but we can assume he was in the region of Galilee. For some Pharisees approached him and told him to get out of there because Herod – the Tetrarch of Galilee – wanted to put him to death. Jesus is simply going about his business – healing the sick and preaching in the synagogues – living each day as if it were his last…and what did it get him? Essentially, it got him a death sentence.

A sixteen-year-old girl got grounded for living each day as if it were her last. I suspect she was trying to live life on the edge. Jesus tried to live each day as if it were his last as well. While Jesus opted for living a righteous life, still, it got him a death sentence. What on earth are we to make of all of this?

I think Jesus sums it up pretty well in the passage we read from Luke. Jesus, of course, is making his way toward his final destination in Jerusalem. In verse 34 he says, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you. How often I would have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!"

Do you understand what Jesus is trying to say here? He’s saying that God has sent prophet after prophet after prophet to Jerusalem. And what did the people do to the prophets of God? They killed them. They literally put the prophets of God to death – or at least they tried. Jesus is saying that people have a tendency to resist the prophets God sends. And that’s why people resisted him, as well.

Let’s take a look at what a prophet really is. A prophet is not one who predicts the future, ala Jean Dixon. A prophet is one who brings the word of God to the people of God. God sends prophets to his people, in essence, to call their collective behavior on the carpet.

Elijah was a prophet God sent to the people of Israel when Ahab was king. The people of Israel, following the lead of Queen Jezebel, had taken to the worship of the Canaanite deity, Baal. Supposedly, Baal was the god who controlled the rain. Elijah had a great contest atop Mt. Carmel with 450 prophets of Baal. In the end, it was proved that God controlled the rain, and all the prophets of Baal were slain. When Queen Jezebel discovered that her prophets had been slain, she vowed to do the same to Elijah. Elijah was forced to flee for his life.

The point is this. God sends prophets to call his people to repentance. God sends prophets to call his people to change their ways. Yet people do not want to hear their sins and vices condemned. In ancient times, prophets were killed – literally. Today, I believe, the prophets are killed figuratively. How do we kill the prophets today? WE IGNORE THEM. We simply ignore them.

Consider what’s happening in America today. In 1987, mainline denominations included 45% of all Americans born in the 1920s, but only 28% of all Americans born in the 1960s. I suspect that percentage is dramatically smaller today. Look at our own church. In 1973, we had over 1600 members. In 1983, we had over 1200 members. In 1993 we were just over 1000, and by 2003, we were under 900. And this is a strong, dynamic church by today’s standards! What do you suppose things are like elsewhere?

There are some churches that are absolutely thriving these days, however. Those are the so-called "nondenominational" churches that are attracting people in droves. What is their secret? People tend to like the contemporary, upbeat music. The messages from the pulpit are motivational speeches. They talk about how sinful we all used to be, and how great it is to be together now. What’s missing from that? There is no word of God. As no less a source that the Rev. Dr. David Hosick once said, "They talk a lot about what they want from God, but they never seem to get to what God might want from them." The churches that are thriving these days tend to focus on what "works" in terms of attracting hoards of people, and build their churches based upon those theories.

In other words, the church is becoming a non-prophet organization. (That’s p-r-o-p-h-e-t, not p-r-o-f-i-t!) The church becomes a non-prophet organization when it concerns itself more with attracting great crowds than it concerns itself with proclaiming the word of God. The church becomes a non-prophet organization when it speaks only of what people want from God, rather than what God might want from people. The church becomes a non-prophet organization when it concerns itself more with its own survival than it does with being true to the Holy Spirit of God.

The church is becoming a non-prophet organization because it knows how people tend to react to prophetic messages. The chu