I’m terrible with directions, and getting around in Hickory just compounds the problem! Sallie, my wife, on the other hand, has an instinct for getting from here to there. For years and years on trips long or short, we would have disagreements - that’s a nice way to put it - about how to find our destination. Finally, after many miles in the car together I have swallowed my male ego and started following her directions. 99 times out of 100 she’s right! For awhile I hated to admit it. But then I began to realize that following her guidance without question (or with few questions!) brings me a confident mind, a peaceful spirit, and a grateful heart. One of the many reasons I love Sallie is because my obedience to her directions about how to get somewhere brings me joy because she gets us to the right place on time! It’s a little thing, but the principle is big.

Jesus said, “If you love me you will keep my commandments.” Loving God - what’s that all about? First you might ask, “Why should I love God? Life is full of tragedy, heartbreak, disappointment, guilt, and death. And there are times when I want to blame God for it all.” But then we stop and, in calmer moments think. We realize that in this imperfect world bad things happen: a car wreck is caused by poor judgment or reckless driving - that’s a human thing. Or someone has cancer, and there seems to be no cure - that’s because of DNA or the environment, or smoking, or some other manmade cause - that’s a human thing. Or a business goes belly up because of shifting economic realities or work shipped overseas or competition from a better product - that’s a business thing.

So as we ponder God’s place in our world, we realize that God may be the only certain, stable, secure power we have! We look at the natural world and stand in awe of its beauty: from the seashore to the mountain tops, from tulips to trees, from sunrise to sunset, and we realize what a magnificent Creator we have. Or we reflect on the Church and her faithful Christians, and we realize how we have been surrounded by kind people and sustained by the Spirit in the tough times of life. We experience forgiveness when there should be none, and we receive God’s grace with tears in our eyes. Upon honest reflection we begin to feel grateful to God and give thanks that we are part of God’s family. But how do we love God - express our gratitude? “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” We love God by following God’s commandments - and rather than being a burden, we experience a blessing! But we independent minded folks often resist being told what to do. We often think we know better, like a child testing the limits. “Don’t go into the street!” Mom tells her toddler. We do it anyway. To his teenager Dad says, “Don’t miss your curfew.” We come in late. “Save six months of your salary just in case ...” financial advisors say. We max out credit cards, and have nothing in the bank; then suddenly we lose a job and we’re in trouble. “Don’t lease a car if you drive less than 25,000 miles per year.” We lease anyway, drive only 19,000 miles a year and pay a bundle at the end. “I take you, Cindy, to be my wife, and I promise to be faithful to you for better or for worse.... as long as we live.” In less than six years, Cindy and her husband are in divorce court.

Over and over again we fail to follow wise advice - advice meant to make life good, to help us; we disobey authority because we think we know better! Respected specialists, loving parents, wise friends give us guidance for our own good - maybe it’s time to start to listen and to obey. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

The law of God was, from the beginning, designed to benefit humankind, and keeping the commandments of Christ gives us abundant life. Rather than bind us, constrict us, box us in, God’s law sets us free! Driving a car is a simple illustration: stay on your side of the road, obey the speed limit, stop at stop signs, don’t tailgate. Obey such laws and trusting others to do the same, brings a kind of freedom and peace at the wheel. What if there were no laws? Driving would be every person for himself; chaotic; frightening. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” “The law of the Lord is perfect; it gives new strength our psalm says.” “Trustworthy ... right ... happy...” These words are used in the psalm to describe keeping God’s law. “And those who obey them are happy!”

• “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” Keep this law and life is focused and clear - no trying to serve two masters, no traps set by all the other little gods who try to seduce us: money, sex, power - you know the list. Keeping this commandment - have no other gods before me - brings a blessing.

• “Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.” - Keep this commandment, defying the current trend of 24/7 work, finding a sense of order, getting some rest which we all crave but are afraid to enjoy is a good thing. God knows that, so God tells us what to do! Are we keeping this commandment? It’s for our own good!

• “Don’t murder or commit adultery; don’t steal or lie.” We can all imagine the deceit, the guilt, the shame, the alienation which disobedience to these commands brings. But God knows that keeping such laws brings contentment to our souls and creates harmony and well-being in our community. But for some reason we disobey, and we hurt. Like a conscientious parent, God gave us these laws because He loves us and wants us to experience a life full of joy.

We see an extension of these life-giving, fulfilling commandments if we also pay attention to the teachings of Jesus: “Don’t worry about your life; do not judge; care for the poor; be generous ....” and the commands go on and on. And the results of such obedience brings joy and freedom, peace and fulfillment to our lives. That’s what God law - God’s commands - are designed to do! They are not legalisms which keep us up tight, they are guides to abundant life.

This is not a complicated message to understand. The hard part is doing it! Those first century followers of Christ were also anxious, tested by the world they lived in, threatened by the power of the culture - just like we are! Jesus understood His disciples. He knew they would be challenged in their desire to be faithful people. It would be difficult to be obedient to Christ! It was a tough world then - it’s a tough world now. So Jesus promised to be with them in Spirit: “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate - a Comforter - a Helper - to be with you forever.” And so it is today. The Divine Presence of Christ is with us, and that Spirit enables us - equips us - to be faithful Christians. We cannot do it by ourselves!

It is a wonderful cycle: receiving God’s love - which always comes first in the Bible and in the Christian journey - makes us want to obey His commands which return love to God. Then God loves us again, we obey His commands which fill us with joy, and that makes us want to love God even more! Obedience to Christ is a surefire way to grow in faith!

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” I encourage you to love God this week by keeping one or more of His commandments: forgive someone against whom you hold a grudge; hold your tongue and your judgment toward a spouse; place your worries aside for awhile and count your blessings; take a bag of food to CCM; give more than usual to the church or a charity, and do it with a grateful heart; pray for your enemies. Decide which of these commands or another that may speak to your heart, then obey, and see what happens.

Ralph Bynum was my scout master for several years. “Uncle Ralph,” we called him. Uncle Ralph was a wise, kind, generous man. He would meet with us rambunctious scouts every week, take us camping, teach us how to survive in the wilderness. He really loved us. On one camping trip we hiked deep into the woods carrying our gear across a shallow stream and set up camp on a huge point of land with water flowing on both sides into a huge river beyond. It was a great place to camp.

All went well until about 8:00 that first night. It had been cloudy all day, then lightning began to strike: thunder pierced the calm, and torrents of rain began to pour and pour and pour. At first we decided to wait it out and we felt secure in our tents. Then the wind began to howl and lightning strikes came closer and closer. Tents were blown down and everything got soaking wet. Uncle Ralph was concerned but he didn’t show it. “Pack up your stuff, guys, we’re getting out of here!” It must have been 2:00 a.m. by this time. And we 11 and 12 year old kids were scared. The stream we crossed was now a raging creek too fast and high to cross. I felt like we were trapped in the dark, wet, little light, and lost. Then Uncle Ralph said, “I know a place where we can get across the creek upstream. There’s a rope bridge about a half mile away, and if it’s still there we can get out. Ya’ll just follow me. Stay close together, and nobody stops!” So off we went, trudging through the mud and muck, carrying all our wet gear, soaked to the skin. “Stay close to me,” he said, and we did. Eventually we got back to the van, packed up and went home. We loved Uncle Ralph, we trusted him, we did what he told us, and we went home with grateful hearts. Uncle Ralph knew what was best. And my love for him continues until this day. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

Most of us at some point in the past made the decision to join the Church - you may have been six or sixteen or sixty. Sitting right down in front this morning - this may be the first and the last time they ever sit on the first pew - are nine eighth graders who will make a profession of faith and join the church this morning.

But more important than just joining, what does this mean to be the Church? The short letter I read from a moment ago written in the first century probably by Peter gives us a clear picture of the church, then and now. The people who read this letter for the first time were new Christians, converts to this growing faith - a faith which had only been around a few years, but which got their attention and drew them into this vital community of believers. These new Christians, numbering about 40,000 out of 70 million people in the first century - you do the math - they were a tiny, tiny minority. These Christians were being persecuted by others because of what they believed. The secular world criticized, mocked, ostracized those early Christians because their beliefs sounded rather weird - a dead man coming back to life? Love your enemies? The first shall be last?

The difficult life for these followers of Jesus could be compared to people in the 21st century like civil rights activists, abortion foes, or anti-war protestors who might be threatened by hate mail, anonymous phone calls, spray paint on your garage door or the side of your house, social slights, painful gossip, and actual physical abuse just because of certain positions on issues, race or color or sexual orientation. It happened! Life for many Christians in the first century was also painful in many ways. It was tough back then. So this tiny band of what some might have called “Jesus freaks” was anxious, afraid; perhaps wondering what they had gotten in to. Peter wrote them this letter of encouragement: affirming their newly discovered beliefs and their alternative lifestyle; articulating what it meant to be the Church, and reminding them to trust in God - for God was their hope!

We 21st century Christians need the same reminders and words of encouragement. The world we live in is pluralistic, secular, mobile; dominated by mass media, and computer - driven. Within our culture diverse ethnic, religious, and social groups develop their own autonomous traditions and special interests. So in the midst of crowds and crowds of people, folks are lonely, looking for community, and have no compelling sense of identity. Some are unclear about their theology or have none, uncertain about this thing called faith, hesitant to take a stand, and they worry about the future of what some call a dying church. To such people, then and now, the Apostle Peter declares clearly and profoundly what it means to be the church: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation .... once you were no people, now you are God’s people.”

What does it mean to be the Church? First, being the church means you are precious in God’s sight, chosen by God to be a unique, distinctive, holy people in the middle of an unholy world. The church is not an institution, an organization, a social club, a school, a community center, a study group, or a therapy workshop. The church is made up of people touched by God, called into a community of faith, and committed to loving God and serving the world.

Our Puritan forefathers and mothers did not call the building “the church.” They called it a “meeting house”, the place where the church gathers. When we say, “I’m going to church,” we’re not coming to this building or these facilities; we are joining a distinct community of people, believers gathered together for a common purpose.

The first century church was not composed of all the community leaders, the wealthy merchants, the power players of the day. Sure, some of these belonged to this new community of faith, but it mostly included people who were displace d and dispossessed socially, economically, and politically. God created a new community for those who had none, and it was - then and now - held together only by the Spirit of God. Those first century Christians did not plan to be the church. They didn’t sit down in a committee, draw up bylaws, and create the church. They were drawn together by the impact of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus; they committed themselves to Christ as Lord and Savior; they caught the fire of God’s Spirit; and they spread this redeeming love throughout the known world! If we call ourselves the church today, we, too, are energized by God, confident of His power and love, and sent into the world to make a difference! You are chosen by God!

Secondly, being the church also means we are growing in faith. “Let yourselves be built into a spiritual house,” the text says. The church is either growing or dying - it never stands still. How do we grow? We worship, study the scripture, share our faith journeys. A growing church happens as we are fed and nurtured by God’s Spirit. We don’t grow it ourselves! All our committees and task forces, all our youth groups and Bible studies, all our service projects and mission trips don’t grow the church. The church grows only as we are open to the Spirit and trust God to be at work among us and within all those groups where we are connected with one another, like the ones mentioned above. At the end of our confirmation class we asked our eighth graders to write an anonymous evaluation of our time together. One of the questions: “What was the hardest part of the class?” One of our young people answered, “Today - the last class. I don’t want it to end!” That’s the Spirit at work!

The Achilles heel of the church is this: we can be seduced by pride, our own success, and the values of the world. If we lose our distinct trust in the Spirit and try to grow the church by the latest business models or the values in our secular world, we will dry up and die. That rag-tag group of first century Christians were by and large poor people who had no political or economic power. Yet in the face of the might, majesty, and threat of the Roman Empire, the church grew and thrived! Amazing!! That was possible only by the mysterious, life-giving presence of the Spirit. Today that empire is no more, while the church continues to change people’s lives.

What does it mean to be the church? Being the church means we are precious people chosen by God to be a unique and distinctive community of faith in the secular world. Being the church means we grow in faith because the Spirit is at work in us and among us.

And finally, being the church means we are a priesthood of believers. That’s a good Presbyterian term. What does it mean? It means two things. First, it means we are accountable to God. No person, no priest, no pastor, no institution can answer before God for anyone else. Each of us answers for herself or himself. Martin Luther, one of the great leaders in the reformation of the church in the 16th century out of which comes this doctrine called the priesthood of believers, said, “Every person must believe for himself because sooner or later everyone must die by himself.” You and I are accountable to the God who expects much and forgives more.

And secondly, the priesthood of believers means we are responsible for serving our neighbors. A good image which helps us understand this is communion. In the Presbyterian church, usually we pass the trays from one person to another. We are not served by the pastor; rather we serve each other! So it is in the world. We Christians should never be spectators to any injustice, inequity, or immorality we see in the world. Rather we are called to serve one another, to take action to change things in the name of Christ: feed the hungry, speak out against injustice, work to correct violations of human rights and the list goes on and on. Just this morning on the front page of the Charlotte Observer we learn that we are in the middle of the worst, world food crisis in thirty years: riots in Africa, children searching dumps for food in Haiti, and soldiers baking bread in Egypt. Pope Benedict VI in our country this past week said, “Any tendency to treat religion as an individualistic, private matter must be resisted. Only when faith permeates every aspect of their lives do Christians become truly open to the transforming power of the Gospel.”

That’s what it means to be the church, chosen by God; growing in faith; serving others.

Jesus could have stayed in Galilee where the air was pure, the food plentiful, and people loved Him. But He went to Jerusalem - the complicated, complex, threatening center of the world. It led to His death. But the power of God gave Him new life.

You, the church, are called to be a community of faith in a non-believing world: a world which is confused and complex and frightening. It’s safe in here. We are nourished, supported, encouraged by one another. And that is as it should be. But we are also equipped in here to go out there - into the world and be Christ-like people for others. You are unique, precious, empowered by God. So go out there into the school rooms and board rooms, across the tracks and over the hill, into the marketplace and the halls of government and tell the story, trust the Spirit, and be the church.

Voices, voices every where and no time to be quiet. Do you ever feel like that? Families hear many voices:

• “Mom, Charlie’s teasing me!”

• “Honey, hit the mute, I’m tired of listening to those same old commercials!”

• “That’s a good looking outfit.”

• Or there are bitter words hurled at a spouse like a dagger. They hurt. They hurt the kids, too.

Voices at work:

• “Good morning!”

• “Where’s that file?”

• “I appreciate the way you handled that.”

• “I need to talk with you a minute. Come into my office.” Good words? Bad words?

Voices from the t.v., cell phones, radios, cds. Voices, voices everywhere!

Inner voices, voices in your head - voices known only to you: powerful voices: “I’ve got to do well!” “I wonder if she saw me?” “Does he really love me?” “I hurt so bad.” “I’m scared.” Voices from years ago: voices of praise, voices of judgment, “Good job!” “Not good enough!” The voices of Mom or Dad which linger in the deepest parts of who we are. Voices, voices everywhere.

Then there are voices of faith:

• A teacher who patiently reads a Bible story to a four year old.

• A heartfelt prayer from one of the revered, wise saints of the church.

• Pope Benedict denounces moral relativism and uses words carefully chosen.

• A revival preacher scares the hell out of people.

• A seminary professor articulates the meaning of grace and suddenly the lights come on.

In our biblical story about the sheep and the shepherd, we read that there were strangers, thieves, bandits who want to steal, kill, and destroy the sheep for selfish gain. That’s so true today. There are all kinds of voices calling you every day. Some are trying to capture you, seduce you, kill you! They are subtle, constant, manipulative.

But there’s one Voice calling us who can lead us to abundant life, and that is the voice of Jesus! So the question for us this morning is this: among all the voices we hear, how can we discern the voice of Jesus? How can we identify the voice of truth, and hope, and new life?

First of all, the voice of Jesus is personal. “The sheep hear His voice; He calls His own sheep by name,” the text says. This is not some hired hand. These sheep belong to this Shepherd. They are precious to Him, and He will do whatever is required to take care of His flock! So He knows His sheep by name. That’s true for you, also. You’re not just one of billions; you are Michael or Mary, Kathy or Karl, Judy or James. It’s also helpful to remember that a shepherd spent a lot of time with his sheep. He got to know them - their idiosyncrasies, the tendency to run away or stay with the flock, the different sounds of their bleating. So it is with us. The Good Shepherd knows you, understands your hopes and fears. The voice of Jesus is personal for each one of us.

Secondly, we can hear in the voice of Jesus a desire to protect us. The good shepherd was vigilant, he knew the terrain with its rough places, ditches, briar patches. He knew the hunger of the wild animals and how they could attack his sheep who were really pretty helpless. So it is today in many of the ominous voices we hear. If you listen to the voice of Jesus, He will keep you safe.

Thirdly, the voice of Jesus is the One who nurtures, feeds His flock. “The sheep will go in and out of the pen and find pasture.” The voice of Jesus is calling us day-in and day-out because He wants what’s best for us, He wants to see us happy, fulfilled, content! His voice is personal; it protects us; it helps us grow.

How do we learn to listen for that voice? First, decide what you are going to listen to. It’s kinda like making choices about what you will watch on t.v.: pick your shows or just leave it on regardless of the content? Some time ago I was in a meeting and one of the group mentioned that on her 30 minute drive to work she would turn off the radio and use that time to meditate, to pray, to think through what was going on in her life. She decided what she was going to listen to. I picked up that habit and have found it very helpful. What voices are you going to listen to? You need to decide!

How do we learn to listen for the voice of Jesus? Practice silence. One discipline that all religions have in common is the practice of silence. In our noisy world with a thousand thoughts whirling through our heads and a vast mixture of feelings stirring in our souls, we have a difficult time practicing silence. But scripture reminds us over and over again of the value of silent listening: “Be still and know that I am God;” “Mary sat at the Lord’s feet and listened;” “As Jesus was praying alone, the disciples were with Him.” Silence is a blessing, and it is essential in hearing the voice of Jesus. So set aside some minutes for holy listening every day. But be careful: the robbers will come and steal your time.

And finally, to really listen for the voice of Christ believe that God’s Spirit is within you. Sister Wendy Beckett likens listening to the voice of Christ to being in a boat. The wind is blowing, the sails are taut, and the sailors lie hidden in the bottom of the boat, borne along by a power they do not and cannot direct! So it is with us. It is our prayer, our boat which we have launched on the sea of faith. But all the movement comes from God. Where we want to go is not the point; it’s where God wants to take us. Like the shepherd: “He calls his own sheep, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.”

So many voices, so many directions. But there is only one voice who can lead you to abundant life. Are you listening?

After Easter you can imagine that the disciples were on a roller coaster of emotions. First there was sadness and grief at the death of Jesus. Then hope and relief at hearing he was alive again. Then confusion and uncertainty at just what to believe. At this point, they had not seen Jesus himself, just heard reports of an empty tomb and of angels who said he was alive. These two followers of Jesus heading home from Jerusalem that day were trying to unpack the recent events that had touched them so deeply and had basically left them feeling like they were groping in the dark. They were not sure what to feel. They were not sure where to go from this point. If indeed Jesus was alive, what did that mean? Would he continue preaching and healing? Would their small group of followers suddenly swell in size? On the other hand, if his resurrection from the dead was just wishful thinking, where would that lead? Could they be facing any follow up arrests?

As they rehashed their feelings, their questions, and their doubts with one another, it would have been a relief to talk with a stranger as they walked along the road, to unload on him. Maybe kind of like the people who find comfort in telling their story to the stranger next to them on the airplane. It helps in the processing to tell it to someone new, someone who is an outsider to the situation at hand. As they walked and talked, suddenly the disciples became the listeners and this stranger became the speaker. They listened as he explained the connections between the Scriptures and what had just happened in Jerusalem and something began to stir in them. So much so that they when they reached their home, they invited the stranger in to stay with them. They were starting to see that their current focus on the sadness, the confusion, and the fear could be re-directed. A glimmer of hope had to be beginning within them or they would not have insisted so strongly that he remain with them. And then, as they sat at the supper table together, at the breaking of the bread, SHAZAAM! It was like a light bulb went off in their darkened minds. No longer were they just groping in the dark, unsure of where to go next. Now they saw him for themselves and they understood what Jesus had been trying to tell them all along. To use some of the words from a beautiful Easter hymn: He lives and they can face tomorrow with confidence and hope. He lives and they do not have to be afraid. He holds the future and life is indeed worth the living from now on. After this encounter with Jesus, these disciples are transformed. No longer groping around in the dark, they rush back to Jerusalem with exciting news to share, full of hope for tomorrow.

When a catastrophic event touches our lives in some way, we too can end up on a roller coaster of emotions. Whether it is the news of a loved one receiving a cancer diagnosis or a close friend being assigned to duty in Iraq or a young college student murdered at your child’s university, you start with shock and then zig zag back and forth between fear and sadness and confusion and anxiety. You want to gather all the information you can, you want answers to the “why?” questions, you try to unpack the emotions and you end up rehashing the story in your mind over and over again. You are groping around in the dark, trying to make some sense of news that is traumatic, news that really and truly makes no sense at all. It can help to find someone to talk to about it, whether it is another family member, a pastor, or a friend. Maybe it is even the woman next to you on the airplane! A helper can be anyone who will listen and bounce back what you are saying, someone perhaps with experience in dealing with trauma or just a different point of view to help in gaining some sort of focus, some way to regain your footing when you feel like you are uncontrollably sliding down the muddy slope of anxiety and fear.

So often when we are touched by some trauma in life, we find ourselves groping in the dark. And we end up staying in the dark for a time, perhaps for a variety of reasons. It could be that we have not identified anyone to be a helper for us in this situation, no one to guide us in explaining or interpreting or clarifying what is going on. Maybe there is no one available to help, or maybe the darkness is so great we just wander around in it and can’t even make ourselves reach out to locate that helper.

Or it could be that we are so fixed on the old way of seeing the picture that we are unable to adjust, we are unable to refocus on a new reality. Those disciples had a picture in their minds that Jesus would be the one to redeem Israel. He was going to change their world. But they had a particular way of seeing how that would happen and now that he was dead and his body was missing, the picture was smashed and they could not see what direction to go at all.

I think about the family and friends and college community who loses a young person, or more than one, in the prime of life. Everyone knows that it is not supposed to happen that way. No one expects such horror. Young people are supposed to go off and study and learn and find ways to contribute to our society. They are supposed to enjoy life and friends and family for years to come. When a life is cut short, we can’t make sense of it. It doesn’t fit with the picture in our mind. We can end up wandering around in the dark, groping for answers, confused, angry and unable to get “what should have been” out of our minds.

Or we may remain in the dark because we find that we are unable to see Christ in the situation. For it is when we can not see him at all that we remain in the darkness. For those disciples, finally it was the ability to clearly see Christ that enabled them to fully refocus, to see clearly what direction to go in. They remembered what he had said, they recognized him in the breaking of the bread, and they now understood he was alive. He didn’t hang around with them for very long. All they got to see was a glimpse of him and their outlook changed.

For us, reeling from a catastrophe or personal trauma, the ability to see Christ makes all the difference in the world. But it is not automatic. It takes effort. It takes paying attention. It takes looking through the tears and the fears to see where Christ is at work. I think about the images we have of college campuses drawing together to offer love, comfort and solidarity in times of great pain and loss. I see the body of Christ is active and alive. When young people have to come face to face with the sheer fragileness of life on this earth, it is a forced growing up experience. It calls all of us to remember the lives we so take for granted which surround us every day. It calls all of us to remember God’s promise of life that continues on after this one ends. It calls all of us to remember that in the love of the community of faith we can see Christ active and alive.

So often when something bad happens we continue to wander around in confusion, groping in the dark. Our narrow focus on one single perspective, our lack of connection with a potential helper, or our inability to see Christ active and alive are barriers to finding a light so we can carry on. It seems that if even one of those barriers were knocked down we could at least make steps toward the light. You can’t expect all three barriers to be removed for you at once. But maybe one at a time. Maybe someone says or does something that suddenly looks like Christ at work, bringing a glimmer of hope. Even if it is just a quick glimpse, it can begin the process of transforming the darkness to light. Maybe you can find a way to look at the situation from a different angle, to see a different picture. Or maybe you can identify a potential helper, a listener, a guide who can shed some light, sharing his or her experience or knowledge with you in this difficult time. If even one of these barriers is removed, the darkness becomes a little less oppressive and the process of healing begins. I encourage you and I encourage myself to be people who respond to a traumatic situation with the understanding that we don’t have to grope in the dark forever. Because he lives we can face tomorrow with confidence and hope. Because he lives we do not have to be afraid. He holds the future and life is indeed worth the living from now on. Amen.

Folded in my linen closet are two blankets carefully sewn together by my grandmother. She was a very thrifty Scotswoman and never wasted anything if she could help it. When my grandfather wore out his woolen suits—maybe a hole in the pocket that could no longer be repaired, or maybe the fabric at the knee or backside had grown just too, too thin—she would cut up the suit into squares and sew the squares together to create a blanket. The different gray and black patterns form a patchwork of material worn for years by my grandfather and now used for years by various family members. We inherited those two blankets at my house when I was a child, special creations which always reminded us of our grandparents. Then when I grew up and moved out on my own, for some reason I inherited the blankets and we have used them for many years in my family as an extra layer of warmth on our beds in the winter.

We can inherit a wide variety of things. We can inherit possessions, like grandma’s 1940’s sewing machine. We can inherit physical traits, like dad’s smile and straight teeth. We can inherit characteristics, like grandpa’s love of the outdoors or mom’s temperament. We can inherit land or buildings owned by our great aunt who never had children of her own. An inheritance is something that belonged to someone else or was somehow a part of who they were that was then passed on to us.

In the Bible, inheritance very often refers to land being passed from one generation to the next. There are multiple laws about who is first in line to inherit land, depending on the make up of the family of a landowner. There is an argument between two brothers about sharing an inheritance from their father which Jesus refuses to really settle. There is a story Jesus tells about a son who takes his inheritance before his father dies and basically throws it all away. The language of the psalm we read this morning is reminiscent of the history of Israel recorded in the book of Joshua when the people of Israel marked off the territory for each tribe in the newly occupied promised land. The lots given to each tribe were understood as inheritances from God. The psalmist, perhaps King David himself, praises God for the portion assigned to him, for the lot given to him. He is pleased with the placing of the boundary lines, and is confident that he has a goodly heritage, or as the New International Version translates it, a delightful inheritance. Perhaps he is referring to actual land given to him, but when you read the words in the context of the rest of the psalm, he seems to be referring more to his relationship of trust and confidence in the Lord who will provide all that he needs. He sees that he needs nothing else apart from the Lord. Surely we can inherit land and possessions and character traits from the generation before us, but there is so much more of great value that we inherit from God.

For example, here at First Presbyterian Church we are recipients of a rich heritage, inheriting this place for worship and for learning and for fellowship, a place built by those who have gone on before us. We have inherited more than a building, though. We have inherited a community of faith which nourishes us in our relationship with God. It is a community of faith led by multiple pastors who have served this congregation over our long history, but more importantly it is made up of Christian individuals and families who have lovingly committed their time, their energy, and their resources to First Presbyterian Church for generations. This church is our inheritance which we must likewise care for and pass on as an inheritance to the next generation.

In Scripture we find references to our spiritual inheritance, to the life eternal which has been left to us by the risen Christ. The apostle Paul describes salvation offered to us in Jesus Christ as our inheritance. An inheritance is not earned. It is a gift passed down from one to another. Whether it is a house at the beach, bright blue eyes, or eternal life in heaven, it is a gift passed on to us from someone else. The psalmist is clear that it is God who has made known to him the path of life. He is confident even in the face of death—his path is laid out for him. His words written centuries before Easter for us carry new meaning, for we live centuries after Easter. We know that the path of life for us is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is he who offers us a delightful inheritance.

Ponder that for a few moments—what in your mind would be a delightful inheritance? Would it be a place? Could be. Would it be a particular possession? Could be. The words of the psalmist are reaffirmed in the first of Peter’s letters to a church in a time of persecution for their faith. These first century Christians face the possibility of harassment by neighbors or government officials because they do not worship the emperor. They are first generation Christians, many of them living in new communities as outsiders, converts from Judaism or paganism, and are in the process of getting used to a new set of loyalties and commitments in the living out of their daily lives as believers in Jesus Christ. You can imagine that being on that first wave of Christians who began to spread out across Asia Minor would be a difficult life. Hostility against them and their “unusual ways” was not uncommon. Peter’s letter, designed to be read aloud during worship, offers them encouragement: “Do not despair. You may be going through grief and trials right now, but you have inherited the kingdom of God. The Lord himself is your inheritance.” Peter writes to believers who live in fear and he says: “you can still have joy in the midst of suffering.” To us that sounds kind of crazy. How can we be joyful in the midst of suffering? We don’t tend to look at times of family or personal illness, or divorce, or the loss of a loved one, or being fired from a job as times of particular joy in our lives. Yet Peter is insistent: The new birth into a living hope through Jesus’ resurrection from the dead gives us an inheritance that can not spoil, perish or fade. We have reason for great joy. It is not an inheritance like my grandmother’s blankets which are starting to show some holes from moths after many years. It is not like an inheritance of a treasured possession which can be destroyed, or land which can be taken by someone else. These kinds of inheritances do not remain with us after we leave this earth, but the living hope we have in Christ is an inheritance that lasts forever. It is a delightful inheritance that brings us joy deep down even when things around us look grim. It is a living hope even in the face of death. It is a confidence in God’s hand at work in and through difficult situations. It is a trust in the future that is out of our hands. It is knowing the path of life is in Jesus Christ.

Last Sunday morning we celebrated the joy of the resurrection of our Lord. And last Sunday a member of our church family, Brian Emerick, died. He had suffered from ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease, for the past several years. His death is a great loss for his family, for this church, and for the community. Yet because of our living hope in a risen Christ, we are confident that Brian lives on. He is now freed from that body that was not working anymore. He is filled with joy that will never stop. He has accepted his inheritance that will never spoil, perish or fade. He is pleased with how the boundary lines have been drawn for him, and is enjoying the most delightful inheritance.

My friends, we walk around every day carrying with us the guarantee of the same inheritance left for Brian. It is the delightful inheritance of life eternal, an inheritance that will not spoil, or fade. It is a delightful inheritance that brings a joy that does not depend on outer circumstances, a joy that remains, a joy that colors our outlook on life in general, a joy that springs from our faith in our risen Lord. Alleluia! Amen.

How do we use our inheritance? Appreciate it. Gratitude. Share it.

Don’t fold it up and leave it on a shelf. Enjoy it. A delightful inheritance.