The Purple Wet Blanket

It took me by surprise last Monday as I walked through the atrium of the Shops at Liberty Place on my way to court in Philadelphia. It was a glistening, multi-storied Christmas tree – perhaps the largest I've ever seen.

Atrium Christmas Tree - The Shops at Liberty Place

Before I came upon that massive tree, I hadn't really noticed stores putting up holiday decorations or Christmas sale flyers in the newspaper or the local radio station that's been playing Christmas music around the clock. I had been hunkered down over the past couple weeks to prepare for a trial, only to be ambushed by the Christmas season on my way to court. 

So after my trial was behind me, I pulled one of my dad's Advent sermons out of his barrel for a refresher course in preparing for Christmas. What I found was a reminder that Advent -- our time of inner preparation for Christ's birth -- looks far different than the run-up to Christmas that we see on the surface as we walk through streets, shops and neighborhoods all decked out for the holiday:

“The color purple is used traditionally by the Church to mark the two great penitential seasons of the Christian year – Lent (the period of preparation for Easter) and Advent (the period of preparation for Christmas). The color purple is the color of self-examination, sorrow for one’s sin, and repentance. It evokes a somber mood, as do the hymns of these two seasons -- which are often written in a minor key. That’s the theory.

The reality is that the Church can pull off a somber and penitential season before Easter, but it’s well nigh impossible in our culture today to do so before Christmas. How do you tell Christians not to celebrate Christmas until December 24th when the rest of society has been doing so since Halloween? How do you tell Christians that in order to truly appreciate Christmas they first need a period of quiet introspection? Many a pastor has gotten into trouble with his or her flock by insisting on a traditional Advent observance – by refusing to pull out all of the Christmas stops until Christmas Eve. More than one has been branded a kill-joy, a wet blanket, if you will. And in this case, you can color that wet blanket purple.

Of course, the important thing is not whether we hang purple or white in the sanctuary before Christmas Eve, or whether we sing dirges or carols. The important thing is that we remember that we can’t really appreciate the fact that God sent his Son into the world unless we know personally why he had to come. I can’t celebrate a Savior unless I understand what he saves me from. There is some personal agony of the soul to be felt before we can really celebrate the hope that resides in the Baby of Bethlehem. Otherwise, Christmas is reduced to a warm, syrupy emotional escape that quickly fades.

The bottom line here is that Christmas is shallow unless we take our own sin seriously. Christmas is God’s first step in dealing decisively with the human condition. Advent is the time when we own up to our sin problem. Most of us modern Christians have trouble with this idea of our own sinfulness. We do not see ourselves as depraved. We readily admit that we are not perfect, but we also know that, relatively speaking, we’re not all that bad. 

Our error here is that sin, as the Bible defines it, has nothing directly to do with morality. As far as the Bible is concerned, the Apostle Paul was as big a sinner as King Herod. As far as the Bible is concerned, an ax murderer and a Girl Scout stand equally condemned before God. That’s offensive to hear, I know. It offends me. Nevertheless it is true, because sin, in the biblical sense, is not what we've done or what we haven’t done. Sin is our innate human tendency to declare our independence from God. Some of us may do this by committing heinous crimes, and others may do it by proving how good we can be, but either way we are telling God to buzz off. Either way we cut ourselves off from God.

The essence of salvation is surrendering our pride, our self-will – no matter what form it takes – and letting God be God for us. Somehow, this must take place during Advent if we are really to have Christmas. Jesus was born, died, and rose again to save us. This is not a three-act play we can enjoy and then, when the final curtain falls, go home to business as usual. It is God acting in history to confront us with who we are, and who we can be, if we surrender to God.

Advent is not a purple wet blanket. It is not really a season on the calendar. It is a season of the soul, a season you must have to prepare for your personal Savior.”

From: “The Purple Wet Blanket”

Scripture: Luke 3:1-20

Preached Nov. 29, 1987 @ Paoli UMC

Thank You and You're Welcome

Over the last three years, I've gone from being the youngest lawyer in my office to being nearly the oldest. Working now with a younger crowd has made me realize that folks don’t say “thank you” as often as they used to. And when I thank co-workers for their help or for a job well done, it’s rare to hear “you’re welcome.” The common response I get is “no problem.” No problem? At the risk of sounding like an old curmudgeon, I don’t like “no problem.” It belittles my thanks. I’m thanking you because it was a problem … or could have been one without your help. Why even say “thanks” for something that’s “no problem” at all?

I had to laugh earlier this week when I read a sermon in which my dad complained about someone’s reaction to him saying “thank you.” I guess it’s true what they say: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Here’s what my father wrote on saying “thank you”:

“The service had come to an end, and I went to the back of the sanctuary to greet the worshipers as they filed out. Near the end of the line came the soloist of the morning, who had done quite a nice job that day. I told her so and thanked her warmly. As I spoke a look of horror came across her face, and she said, ‘Oh no, pastor! Don’t thank me. Give all the praise to God. It’s not me; He does it all!’”

“That’s not the first time I had received such a reaction when I thanked another Christian for doing something, nor would it be the last. It is common in some Christian circles to refuse to accept personal thanks. I've thought a lot about that reaction from the soloist and others, and while I understand the point they are making, it seems to me to grow out of a narrow and rigid way of thinking about our relationship with God – and an inadequate understanding of our personal and social needs as human beings.”

“It must be conceded that in … Paul’s letter to the Philippian Church, he couches his thanks to the Christians there as an act of thanks to God: ‘I thank my God,’ he writes, ‘ every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now[.]’ (Phil. 1:3-5 NIV) And yet, if Paul only wanted to thank God, why would he put it in this letter so that the Philippians would overhear him? I believe Paul understood the necessity of thanking others for their efforts and accomplishments.”

“Saying ‘thank you’ is a very important Christian grace for at least three reasons:

•  First, it satisfies the need that every person has to receive feedback concerning his efforts. There is nothing more draining than to work hard and faithfully day after day and seldom or never hear a word of appreciation. … Someone is bound to say, ‘As Christians we don’t serve in order to be praised by men, but just to please God.’ That is very true. But how does God express his pleasure to us? Doesn't God often choose to communicate through our brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ? It is good theology to assert that a genuine word of appreciation from a fellow Christian is also an expression of pleasure from God. We all need to hear the words, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’ (Matt. 25:21)

•  Second, saying ‘thank you’ is a healthy expression of our inter-dependence with other people. … Our natural sinful tendency is to see ourselves in disproportion as the center of our own little universe, everything revolving around us. A heartfelt ‘thank you’ can readjust that whole skewed, self-centered way of looking at things, as we realize that we cannot take anyone for granted. Each person in our life is essential to us.

• Third – and most important – saying ‘thank you’ is an expression of our dependence upon God. (I believe this is what the soloist was trying to tell me that Sunday after the service, although I don’t like how she rules out our thanking one another.) The fact is that any good you and I do is the result of God’s direct or indirect action in us. And so, when I thank you for something, I am reminding both you and myself that it is in God that ‘we live and move and have our being.’ (Acts 17:28)"

So, as my dad put it, “thank-yous are in order often and all around.” I'll start by thanking you for your interest in this blog. Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

From: "On Saying 'Thank You'"
Scripture: Philippians 1:3-11

Like or Unlike

Scrolling through my news feed on Facebook, I spotted the post. A friend (of both the real-world and Facebook varieties) had written: "Most people don't know the difference between those they don't like and those who are their enemies. It is a lesson worth learning." Wondering about that distinction, I thought of its implications for the famous teaching of Jesus that we are to love our enemies. I wrote a comment to the post asking, "So if  I love my enemies, may I keep a lengthy list of folks I just don't like?"

As Christians, we know that we shouldn't keep an "enemies list." But we don't see much harm in keeping a list of those who annoy us, those who push our buttons, those whom we would just as soon avoid ... even within the Church. My father addressed this very issue in a sermon called "Walk in Love." Here's what he had to say:  

“There is a modern proverb going around in the Church which I’ve used and which I’ve heard used quite often. It goes like this: ‘A Christian loves everyone, but he doesn’t have to like everyone.’ There’s a certain degree of truth to that maxim, because feelings-wise it is true that we are more drawn to some people than to others. The problem is not with what the maxim says, but with why we use it, and how we use it to justify our treatment of others whom we are supposed to love (‘in Christ’) but whom we do not like. Quite often this kind of thinking gives us a loophole from having to treat them warmly and kindly. Quite often it justifies our avoiding people in the Church we don’t like or just treating them with formal politeness when we can’t avoid bumping into them.”

“What is Christian love for a person you don’t particularly like? Is it just peaceful co-existence in a forever-chilly atmosphere? Or is it striving to like them, always starting out fresh with every meeting of that person – ready and open to befriend them?”

“What should concern us is the hardened stance we take toward some people who rub us the wrong way – as though it is carved in stone that forever we shall be on foul terms with them. ‘I just can’t stand him and I never will!’ There’s no room for this kind of bullheadedness in the Christian fellowship. We certainly have these kinds of feelings about some people, but we should never accept these feelings and allow ourselves to feel comfortable with them.”

“What do you do about someone in the Body you don’t care for? Do you try to stay out of his way? Ephesians 4:31-32 says, ‘Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another …’ Notice it doesn’t say, bestow your warmth only on those you feel warm to. It assumes that warmth will flow between everyone in the fellowship.”

“But someone may say, isn’t that hypocritical? Acting kindly to someone you don’t feel kindly to? You know, it’s amazing how acting like you have positive regard for someone will eventually lead you to have positive regard for them. We usually think that behavior follows feelings. We behave as we feel; that is true. But it is also a sound psychological and spiritual principle that feelings follow behavior; we feel as we behave.”

“I remember one time moving into a community to minister where another pastor was already located toward whom I had quite negative feelings. But there I was, and I had to work with the man for the cause of Jesus Christ in that community, and so I resolved to do so in a warm, positive way. This I did, and as time passed I found my feelings changing, my dislike for the man falling away, and I came to have high regard for his style of ministry. A genuine, spontaneous friendship developed between us. It is a friendship I will always treasure because it was not always so, and it is one I had to work at.”

“No, it is not hypocrisy to say a good word or do a kind act for a brother or sister toward whom you feel negatively. At the very least, these things keep the wheels of the fellowship greased and promote harmony in the body. But at the very most, they chip away at your prejudices and feelings of dislike and give you a new understanding of, if not a new warmth for, your brother or sister. Such action is not hypocrisy if the whole aim is to promote the fellowship and to build new bridges where others were torn down or never existed.”

“‘Walk in love,’ says the author of Ephesians. This is very sound moral advice, but it remains just that – dead and hollow advice – unless we have help from beyond ourselves to put it into effect. We are to ‘walk in love’ as Christ ‘loved us and gave himself up for us.’ (Eph. 5:2) What enables me to walk in love with brothers and sisters whom I might not ordinarily choose to walk with? It is the realization that, … although I was hopelessly wrapped up in myself and oblivious to God and God’s way, God nevertheless acted in love for me. God sent his Son to die on the cross in my place. God forgave me. God forgives me again and again. There is power in your life when you accept this tremendous love of God’s. There is power that enables you to walk in love with your brothers and sisters. Open your heart to the kind, tenderhearted, forgiving Spirit of God. If you do, you will become kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving, as God in Christ forgave you.”

Perhaps it's time to tear up that list.

From: "Walk in Love"

Scripture: Ephesians 4:30 - 5:2

Welcoming The Stranger

When was the last time you were a stranger? For me, it wasn’t so long ago. This past June, my family sold our home, packed up all our earthly belongings, and moved for my wife’s job. Dorry and I had lived in the North Wales area for most of our married life. Our kids, now 18 and 20, had never called any other town home. It’s tough to move. There’s a lot of work involved, disruptions left and right, inevitable frustrations; but perhaps the hardest part is becoming a stranger in a new and unfamiliar community.

My dad once observed in a sermon that “[i]t can be a terrible experience to be a stranger [because] we are meant to live in community, in fellowship with one another.” Dad went on: “Forever etched in my memory are the few trips I took with a committee from my church in summer of 1975 to Fort Indiantown Gap, where thousands of strangers to our shores from Vietnam waited for someone to come and sponsor them so that they could leave the camp and begin their lives over again. I will never forget the longing eyes following us as we walked to the interview center, hundreds of people watching, hoping that we would be the ones to make them strangers no more. And then later, as the family assigned to us came into the crowded room, I watched their fearful, searching eyes as they came to greet us, eyes that said, ‘I am a stranger, stripped of all I need to survive. Will you welcome me and help me to live again?’”

I have childhood memories of that refugee family, and the great work that Grace United Methodist Church did to welcome them to their new home in Millersville, Pennsylvania. That family’s experience as strangers makes my recent move seem tame by comparison. I didn’t come here from a war-torn country on the other side of the globe. I’m just a Newcomer in Newtown. But what the Newcomer family has in common with that refugee family is that we both were welcomed into a church – the Body of Christ – with open arms on our arrival.

As a pastor, my father moved our family a number of times. Speaking of his own experience as a stranger, Dad observed that “the warmth and love and support of the Christian fellowship that I’ve so enjoyed, none of them are mine because I deserve them; and so, I cannot ever take them for granted. God gives them to me daily just because God loves me and for no other reason. When I remember that once I was a stranger to him and to his Body, and then, through others, he took me and taught me and forgave me and enfolded me, then I know that I must always have a special place in my heart for the stranger. For, in the spiritual sense, I once was a stranger in the strange land of Egypt." 

In the Parable of the Last Judgment, we learn that "when we welcome the stranger, we welcome Christ." "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40 (NIV)).  "Welcoming the stranger … is a blessed service given to every Christian that springs out of the very nature of our experience with Jesus Christ. ... Only as we give daily water to the thirsty, food to the hungry, visit the sick, and welcome the stranger do we know what it means to live in fellowship with him. Jesus numbers himself among the strangers to this world. He is one of them. That is where he has placed himself, and if we want to be one with Jesus, we must join him there.”

As I write this post, I am in Duck, North Carolina on a retreat with some new friends – men of the Newtown United Methodist Church:

. 

Joe, David, Dave, Rich & Bob 

These men, and so many others at our new church home, have welcomed me and my family into their community of faith with open arms. Thanks to them, and the Lord they serve, we may be Newcomers, but we are strangers no more.

From: “I Was A Stranger”

Scripture: Matthew 25:31-46

Saints Among Us

Today is Halloween or, as it used to be known, All Hallows’ Eve. 

It’s the eve of All Saints' Day -- the traditional time of year for us to remember and celebrate the saints in our lives. Who are these saints we celebrate? As my dad noted in a sermon he preached one All Saints’ Day, you “[m]ention the word ‘saint’ and usually it conjures up a picture of a not-quite-human figure in stained glass or carved in marble representing the type of person we have never seen and certainly never expect to be – a human being oozing spirituality, practically perfect in every way, incapable of sin.” Dad was convinced, though, that we need to take a broader view when we think of saints:

“Basically, as I see it, Christians fall into two categories: First, there are those who recognize their sinfulness and accept it. For them, the Gospel is the Good News that they can come again and again to the Cross and have their slate wiped clean. They never expect to get any better; just periodically cleansed.

Second, there are those Christians who recognize their sinfulness but do not accept it as inevitable. Oh, they know that they will always sin, but they also believe that God does more than forgive; God renews and empowers them toward greater and greater righteousness. They see the Christian life not just as a periodic cleansing, but also a moving on, a becoming more that they once were – all by the power of God working in them. This later group knows God not just as forgiver, but also as a provider of power. They don’t just accept what they are. No! Until the day they die they struggle toward Christlikeness. When folks look at them, they don’t want them to see human sin; they want them to see the power and love of God forming a new creation in them.

People like this – ‘saints’ if you will – like to spend time with each other. … They get together because they must. It’s not an option. These folks know that the power for Christian growth lies not in hearing true doctrine or sound teaching, as important as those are. Strength to journey on in the Christian life doesn’t depend on great sacred music. Progress in the Christian pilgrimage doesn’t require a silver-tongued preacher or a captivating teacher. None of these are necessary. But what is required is encountering and sharing with other persons who have Christ living in them – the ‘communion of the saints.’

The Church can have the worst choir in the world and Sunday school teachers who bore you to tears. Its paint may be peeling and its preacher may get tongue-tied. But if it has just two or three people who really believe Christ is alive in them, it can be more of a church to you than the one that is polished and professional, but hasn’t the slightest idea that people really can be saints, full of God’s power.

What good is it to know that Jesus stilled a storm on the Sea of Galilee, if there is not someone here right now who can testify that Jesus recently stilled a raging storm in his/her life? What good is it to know that Jesus cast the demons out of a man, if there is not someone among us who knows what it means to be freed from the demonic forces that you and I are prone to?

[When I think of my growth in the Christian faith,] what I remember is not the sermons or anthems I’ve heard, not the Sunday school lessons I sat through, not the films I watched, the campfires I sat around, the retreats I attended, or the tens of thousands of prayers I closed my eyes for. What I remember, and what impressed me most was the Rev. Dr. Ehrhart, and how he used to cry when he preached because he so strongly believed what he was saying; skinny old Mrs. Graver, one of my early Sunday school teachers, whose faithfulness far outshone her effectiveness; Mr. Lloyd Lefever, a farmer, who taught us senior high boys with obvious sincerity; the Rev. Dr. Peiffer who took a personal interest in me and encouraged me to pursue the ministry; a mother and father who each in their own way encouraged and affirmed me; a loving wife who receives so little and gives so much; and many others in every church I’ve been privileged to serve.

If you ask me how I know about the power of God and how it can work in a human being, I can do nothing more than point to these people – the ‘communion of saints’ as I have known it, as it has touched me.  The saints aren’t in stained glass windows, and the saints aren’t always perfect, but once in a while – and especially when they’re together – the Son-light shines through and you know, you just know, that God is there.”

So, who are the saints in your life? Who are the people -- past and present -- who make God real for you? This is the perfect weekend to thank them, and to thank God for them. Happy All Saints’ Day, my friends!

From “The Communion of the Saints”

Scripture: Ephesians 1:11-23

Make the Church Together

I enjoy keeping up with the latest news, but I completely understand my wife’s desire to avoid it. All too often the news – whether international, national or local – overflows with accounts of darkness, death and despair. Just last Friday, for instance, came word of yet another school shooting – this one in the state of Washington.  Three teens, including the shooter, died. Two others were hospitalized. Another community would be haunted by questions that had no easy answers.

Flipping through some of my father’s sermons last night, I came upon one that reminded me that we're hardly the first generation to deal with horrible events like these. In 1985, a 25 year-old woman suffering from mental illness went on a shooting rampage at a shopping mall in Springfield, Delaware County, PA – less than 15 miles from my father’s church.  The shooting left three dead – including a two year-old boy – and seven wounded. As my dad stood in the pulpit a few weeks later, he passed along a story that he heard in the wake of the tragic events of that day at the Springfield Mall. It’s a story about the very nature of Christ’s Church – a story of how we all make the Church together. Here’s what he said:

“Bruce Hazelwood, the pastor of Covenant United Methodist Church in Springfield, told a small group of us pastors the other day of a powerful event that grew out of the aftermath of the tragic shooting several weeks ago at the Springfield Mall. Dr. Trout, who was critically wounded in that shooting, is a member of Bruce’s congregation. [A]s his pastor, Bruce was at the hospital soon after Dr. Trout and the other victims were brought in. Killed in that sad event, you remember, was Recife Cosman – a little boy from Chester who with his family are from one of our United Methodist Churches in Chester. The Cosmans’ pastor was also there at the hospital, of course, attempting to bring support and comfort to this family in this time of the sudden, senseless, and overwhelming loss of their little son.

After things settled down a bit and all the emergency medical needs had been attended to, the hospital provided the families and pastors with a room in which to gather. Many hospital staff members also were there, for they too had been deeply affected by this terrible event.

As the pastor from Chester read words of comfort, Bruce said he looked around and realized what an amazing sight he was privy to. The room in which these people had crowded to seek comfort from God and each other was the lounge of the maternity unit; all of its decorations and appointments spoke of new life. There was a white nurse holding a black baby, and persons of every age, professional people, laborers, and the unemployed. Black and white from Chester and from Springfield, holding one another, acknowledging in that moment their need of one another, and their need of God. The diversity and the unity in the setting of that maternity lounge was a powerful witness.

Bruce said that in that moment there was etched in his mind this model of what the Church really is – a gathering of diverse persons from every age and station and walk in life, persons bound to one another in mutual love and support, bound together by the Lord in whom they find their common ground, while the earth trembles beneath their feet, and all of this taking place within the context of a promise of new life and hope for those who will continue to make the Church together.”

From "Make the Church Together"

Acts 6:1-7; Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-16

Puppies, Pet Rocks & Guilt Bags

Dorry and I recently got a new pet ... an adorable puppy named Sparky. His mother is a beagle-basset hound mix. The dad left town before his breed could be identified. The result of their fling was a litter that included this very cute and rambunctious mutt that just loves the attention he gets from Dorry:

Dorry with Sparky

A funny thing happens, though, when Dorry leaves the house without Sparky. Perhaps it's separation anxiety, but Sparky sometimes goes berserk when Dorry is out of his sight. If he's not on a leash, he runs around in a frenzied panic. If he is on a leash, he'll jump high in the air and do everything he can to try to wrestle his way free from the person on the other end of the line -- i.e., me. Don't get me wrong. I love this dog and am very glad he is ours, but there have been a few fleeting moments when Sparky leaves me pining for a pet rock.

Did you ever have a pet rock? They were a phenomenon in the 1970's, and you still can buy one today. Unlike Sparky, your pet rock can be taught easily to obey commands such as "sit" and "stay." "Roll over" is another matter altogether.

To my surprise, Dad once gave a "shout out" to the pet rock fad in a sermon that also mentioned another piece of 1970's marketing genius: the guilt bag. What followed was perhaps one of the best explanations I've ever read of the concepts of forgiveness and repentance:

"A few years ago, in the era of pet rocks, another novel product on the market was a packet of 'guilt bags.'  These were nothing more than brown paper bags with the words 'guilt bag' printed on them. The instructions that came with these bags told the conscience-burdened user to blow all his guilt into the bag, close it up and throw it away. This would bring immediate relief. Now admittedly, this product was a gag, a joke, but I wonder how funny it would be if  it did not strike a responsive chord of need in our lives. This product sold like hotcakes as people tried to mask their longing to be free from guilt in the disguise of humor. How sad!"

"I doubt whether any of us can fully comprehend the enormity and the countless manifestations of this drive of persons in our society to make themselves clean and free of guilt. ... Of course, there is neurotic, unhealthy guilt that we don't deserve to have. In such a case, we need to be made to feel not guilty. But all too commonly there is healthy guilt in us, guilt that is there because we are guilty, having messed up our lives and the lives of others. This guilt is to the spirit what pain is to the body -- a warning signal that something is wrong. God put it there to poke and prod us until we make things right with God." 

"How then is this guilt directly, effectively, and permanently purged from our lives? What is the cleansing agent, the means or device that we use? ... It is important to begin by realizing that ultimately all sin is against God. The Bible makes clear again and again that sin against our brother and against ourselves is a violation of the image of God in the human person, and thus is a sin against God. And so, because it is God whose will and purpose we offend, it is only God who can do anything about it. It is only God who can say, 'You are forgiven' and make it stick."

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if [there were] a way for you to be forever free from the crippling effects of guilt, a way to rid yourself of the need for all your escapes and rationalizations? We proclaim ... that God has provided just such a way in God's son, Jesus Christ. Just as on the Day of Atonement ancient Jews would symbolically lay all of their iniquity onto the scapegoat and then drive it into the wilderness, so God once and for all has laid our sin upon his Son." As Paul put it in 2 Corinthians 5:21, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."  "The Cross of  Jesus Christ, the forgiving love of God, is the only way in which we can be truly cleansed and set free from our guilt. God has done his part to show us how much he loves us and wants to forgive us, fully and forever."

"But this is as far as God can go. We cannot be forgiven unless we want it, unless we accept it. The New Testament Greek word for our response is 'metanoia' - repentance.  This is not simply feeling sorry from our sin, but actually turning from it, renouncing the guilt-infested life through the power that comes from God's love and forgiveness."

"How often we stop short of this response of repentance, unable to turn away from our old life, miserable though it is. The familiar holds us. Self-sufficiency paralyzes us. We get stuck in the status quo. These keep us from reaching out in faith and grasping hold of the wonderful thing God has done for us in Christ. But here, today, is an opportunity to let God deal with your guilt as only God can. Here is a way to break loose from all of those temporary escapes and false ways we have of feeling better. Here is new life. Take it; it's for you from God with love!"

From: "A Man Should Die"
Scripture: John 11:45-53