Steve's Letter: A Killer of a Sermon!

I'm writing this on Monday after preaching yesterday at my home church. Sitting on my desk are the notes of a sermon that didn't quite make it.

No, the sermon wasn't half-bad. The "didn't quite make it" refers to the fact that it really didn't quite make it. Let me explain.

In the second service, I had just about finished the last point and was "headed for the barn" when I noticed a commotion going on about four rows back. People jumped up and ran over to a man who had just collapsed. At first I thought that maybe they were under conviction and I had revival on my hands. But frankly, the sermon wasn't that good. So I figured it must be something else.

I teach seminary students that if they're preaching and "something else is going on" in the church to try to keep at it unless everybody notices; then, if that's the case, they should directly address it. Everybody noticed in this instance so I stopped the sermon, prayed for the man who was obviously in trouble, and told the congregation that given the need for room (the sanctuary was full), I was going to have a benediction and then they should leave, making room for the emergency folks who had been called. I did and they did.

After a few moments, the man was a lot better and sitting up. (He was well cared for by some doctors and nurses who were in the service.) I went over to him and said, "Bill, it wasn't a great sermon...but it wasn't that bad." He laughed.

I visited him later on at the hospital. His wife—he has a wonderful family—told me that it was my sermon that had put him there. Then she laughed and said, "Steve, I'm getting a bunch of CDs of that sermon and sending it to all the relatives I don't like."

Cracked me up!

(After it was apparent that the man was going to be okay, one of the ushers at our church said, "Steve, that was a killer of a sermon!" Very funny!)

I've been told quite often that my voice is soothing and helps people sleep. One man even told me that, while he didn't agree with anything I said, he liked my voice because it was better than sleeping pills. He said that he played my CDs at night in order to get a good night's sleep.

I am certainly glad to be of service.

I don't think I've ever been told that my sermon could be used as a weapon though. I don't think it works that way. But still, I've made some copies and plan to send them to those people on my "hit list." Who knows?

If you recently wrote me a critical letter, be afraid. Be very afraid.

Sorry.

You say, Steve, where in the world are you going with this?

Let me show you. I read the Scriptures this morning in Hebrews. Hebrews 4:12 says, "For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart."

That, of course, isn't what happened in my sermon yesterday with my friend who collapsed, but I do hope it's what happened with me and with other folks there. The Scripture isn't just something "nice" and a good religious book to read. It is God's method of holding a mirror up, letting us see what is really going on in us.

In the last couple days I received two emails from former students who had seen a video of a "celebrity" teacher (you would know the name) answering the question about whether or not God was angry at us over our sins. He said that the short answer was "yes" and the long answer the same. He then went on to give the long answer—in a very godly and serious way—why God was angry. It disturbed my former students and frankly, in response, Martin Luther rolled over in his grave.

I wrote the former students back with the theological and biblical reasons why that "famous teacher" was nuts. But as I watched the video of the teacher (both of the students sent me a copy), my first thought was that this man needed to confess his sins on the video rather than answer the question he purported to answer. In fact, I prayed, "Lord, give him the gift of getting drunk in church, and confessing all his sins and secrets in front of the gathered people of God. Then send him to me so I can help him out."

If that happened, do you know what I would say? I would speak the wonderful truth of the Gospel to him, to wit, you are not only a sinner, you are far worse than you could ever imagine. I would tell him about a God who loved him far more than he could ever imagine too. And then I would give him the "living water" of Jesus revealed in God's Word. I would say to him, "If God got angry at you (after all, remember, you did get drunk in church), he would have killed you off. He's not angry at you, you bozo! He loves you, you haven't surprised him, and if you run to him he'll hug you."

That is the purpose of Scripture. The "two-edged sword" shows no mercy, but we don't have to be afraid of it. It's the sword wielded by our Father who loves us. And its purpose is to draw us to him to be loved and forgiven.

And then there is the flip side we shouldn't forget. The sword also reveals some good things happening in our lives by his grace (the only way they happen—"constrained by the love of Christ"). We love more than we used to, are more obedient than we were, care more and serve better. When the Word reveals that, we run to God, thanking him for the work he is doing in our lives. He hugs us when that happens too.

In neither case (the sin and the sanctification) does a sovereign God change. He isn't angry or elated. The hug is the same. He is glorified. With a reluctant nod in Rick Warren's direction, it really isn't about us; it's about him.

But it's about us too.

Paul said that where sin increases, grace "abounds" even more (Romans 5:20). In other words, our sin doesn't attract God's anger; it attracts his grace and his love. Almost makes me want to go out and sin some that I might experience "abounding grace."

As I watched the video of that teacher who was (maybe even for good reasons) lying about God, I found myself "cussing and spitting." In fact, I decided to send him a CD of my sermon from Sunday in hopes that it would bring about the same result.

I know, I know. Jesus wasn't very happy either. In fact, he told me that he wasn't angry at that teacher any more than he was at me, and asked me to try and remember it.

My second reaction to that teacher was tears. That man desperately needs to be hugged by a God who is never angry at his own...and whose immutable grace, mercy, gentleness and compassion are the true face of his love.

Maybe you need that too. Perhaps you've really screwed it up and are afraid to go to a holy God. Maybe you think he's angry or has had it with you. Maybe you can't do the religious thing much longer because you're simply not good enough. Maybe you can't sleep because of the guilt and embarrassment.

You run to Jesus. He has a surprise for you.

He asked me to remind you.

In His Grip,