It’s good to be here this morning, standing in this pulpit where I’ve stood
nearly every Sunday for the past 23 years. As a wise man once said, it’s good
to be anywhere this morning. Most of you know that I’ve just survived a major
heart attack and open-heart surgery. My doctors tell me that I am lucky to have
left the hospital standing up!
As much as I believe that it is far better to be with the Lord – and I am not
just saying that because it’s my job to say so – I am glad to be here with
you this morning for a couple of very good reasons. The first should not
surprise you at all, considering my heart attack and all. I have decided, with
much encouragement from Doris, my wife, and my doctor, that today will be my
last Sunday in this pulpit. I met with the board yesterday, and it was decided
unanimously that Jim will take the helm, so to speak, and as of tomorrow I will
be officially retired. Jim has proven himself over the last few years as Youth
Pastor, and has actually served as much more than a Youth Pastor in the last
year. I will continue, as long as the Lord wills, to be a part of this church.
And, to be honest, I am really excited about the opportunity to occupy that seat
way in the back that I’ve always secretly envied!
The other reason I am so glad to be here this morning may come as a bit more of
a surprise. It has occurred to me that perhaps the really that the Lord allowed
me to survive my heart attack is for this very reason – and, that is, today,
after 23 years, I am finally going to preach to you one truly honest sermon.
Well, I still have enough of my eyesight left to tell that I have your
attention. Good.
For years, I have been standing up here week after week, giving you
“answers,” just the way I was taught to back in seminary. Seminary, as you
well know, is that place you go to get all of the answers, so you can stand up
here and regurgitate them to congregations such as yourself; well, at least
that’s what many people think. Unfortunately, that’s what I thought, too,
for many years.
However, the longer I stood up here, telling you all what you need to know to
live happy, productive lives, the more I realized that I knew less and less of
the answers. And, I, personally, had more and more questions that I didn’t
have the answers to. While Doris knew some of my turmoil, the questions ran so
deep that I was afraid, and probably too ashamed, to admit that I was dealing
with such core issues. Often, as I would stand here expounding on a text, I
would find myself wondering whether I had any right to stand here. Sometimes, of
course, I could see the answers that I handed out work. However, many times they
didn’t.
Finally, a few weeks ago, as I experienced what was actually a series of heart
attacks, I realized that I had done you all a great disservice in letting you
believe that I was as secure in my own spiritual formulas as I appeared. You
see, a part of me still thought that it was important to believe in the
formulas. After all, I was taught in seminary that the formulas were important.
The books I had read told me the formulas were important. The entire evangelical
community places so much emphasis on the evangelical formulas and doctrines that
to acknowledge doubt in them – at least, this is what I thought – was to
question my very faith. So, I thought that if I could get enough of you to
believe what I thought we were supposed to believe, that perhaps I could believe
it myself.
As I lay in the hospital one night, hovering between earthly life and death, I
had what has been called a “long, dark night of the soul;” a crisis of
faith, if you will. At that point I found the strength to finally be honest with
myself about what I did and did not believe.
I know that so far, this all sounds like I may have lost my faith. However,
nothing could be further from the truth. In coming to terms with my questions
and my doubts, finally, after all these years, I believe that I have at last
found my faith, and I am very happy to report that it was in much better shape
than I thought it was. That is what I hope to share with you today.
Faith is really quite simple; much simpler than I ever thought it was. It is so
simple, in fact, that I have finally realized that I really only know two
things. The first thing – and you may want to get out your pens and write this
somewhere in the front of your Bibles – is that much of what I think I know is
wrong. Yes, you heard me right. In a moment, I hope you will see how wonderful a
truth this is – it’s far better than “everything I know I learned in
Kindergarten.”
Turn in your Bibles to one of my favorite passages, One Corinthians chapter 13.
Many of you know this chapter almost by heart, yet probably few of you are aware
of what it has to say about the subject of epistemology. I’m allowed to use
one big word a Sunday, you know. Epistemology, as some of you know, is the
study of knowledge; in other words, wondering what it is that we really know and
how we know it.
The Twentieth Century, by the way, has been called “The Information Age” –
among other things. I am, like most of you, addicted to information and what we
like to think of as knowledge. At our house, we get several monthly magazines
whose goal it is to provide us with the very latest in information, from
political news to gardening to what’s on TV. Much of what I watch on TV is
committed to bringing us the very latest information on any number of topics.
However, none of these can match the virtually instant information I get on my
home computer. In fact, I probably have access to more information at my
fingertips than Paul the apostle had in his entire lifetime.
Yet, with all of this information, and with all the advances of science, what
really do we know? Listen now to what Paul writes in verses 8 through 13:
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there
are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the
imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like
a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways
behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see
face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully
known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of
these is love.
For we know in part. What does it mean to know in part? Simply put, it means we
are wrong – at least partly – about perhaps everything. Many of you would
say, “but if we know in part, then we must be partially right!” Perhaps –
but which part? Perhaps – but is partially right good enough? Partially
right is also partially wrong. Many of you are familiar with Einstein’s great
formula for relativity, E=MC2. What if he had forgotten to square C? Would
partially right be good enough?
Let’s look at it another way: What if whoever translated your Bible
mistranslated every 10th word? Would your translation be right or wrong?
Certainly 90% is good enough! No, I don’t think we would use that translation
very long with only a 90% accuracy rate.
But now, what if our understanding is at 90%? What if our theology is only 90%
accurate; is that good enough for you? Most of us would be thrilled to know that
we understand God’s Word that well. I tell you, I certainly would be. In
truth, I would hesitate to think anyone understands that much. Perhaps we’re
only at 50%, or 30%. Paul doesn’t tell us how little we understand, he just
compares it to “a poor reflection.”
So why, then do we act like we have it all together? We argue and fight and some
of us think we would rather be martyred than give up our position on timing of
the rapture or any number of silly things. The truth is, when you look at our
understanding, we have missed a lot more than every 10th word. In other words,
we’re wrong, if the standard is 100%.
So, sure, we’re partially right about a whole lot of things. But, we’re also
partially wrong about a whole lot of things. And, when we’re dealing with
things like the Word of God, and with eternity, I think we always need to be
aware that we don’t have all the answers. Our opinions, our theology, our
understanding of the Bible, even down to our concept of God and, yes, even
salvation – are, to a certain extent wrong. And, obviously, some are more
wrong than others.
Over the past couple of years, as I recognized my doubts, one of my great fears
has been that people were putting their faith in the prescribed answers – many
prescribed by me – instead of in God. And, follow with me, here – if your
faith was in, say, the inerrency of the Bible, and some archeologist was able to
“prove” (at least to you) that the book of James was actually written in the
2nd Century by some ambitious scribe named Chuck, what would that do to your
faith? Or, more importantly, what would that say about your faith? Is a faith
that is too heavily based in a particular doctrine, such as in the literal
pre-tribulation rapture, a “saving” faith? That’s something to think
about. It’s something I have been thinking about, as I taught doctrines like
inerrency and the pre-trib rapture.
One of the problems that pastors like me have had is the pressure to have all,
or at least most, of the answers. The 20th Century has all been about answers,
hasn’t it? Science is not about guessing, or at least so they claim. Guessing
wouldn’t have been good enough to attempt to put a man in space. Guessing
isn’t good enough to cut a man open and repair his heart. And, I have to say
that I’m really glad about that!
But, is guessing good enough for salvation? Is guessing “good enough for
gospel,” as the saying goes? Is guessing good enough to judge others by? Is it
good enough to split churches over? Is guessing – even educated guessing,
which is a lot of what we do – good enough to justify doing the things we have
done because of what we have claimed was The Truth, when our own Bible tells us
that we don’t really know everything?
And, consider this: God doesn’t seem to even really be that concerned that we
do know everything. Haven’t you ever wondered why God didn’t tell us plainly
when, or even if, the rapture would happen in the great scheme of things? Why
didn’t God tell us plainly when and how to baptize people? Now, many of you
are probably thinking, “but He did tell us plainly.” Well, my answer to that
is, if it is that plain, why does ¾ of the church disagree with you? Paul
didn’t tell the Corinthians, “for we know in part, except about baptism,
we’ve got that wired 100%.” If we look at the Big Picture – all of
history, all of the Bible – it would appear that God was more concerned with
relationship than with truth. At least our modern definition of truth, anyway.
So, what I’m saying is this, and here’s where I am going to be brutally
honest: I don’t know when or even if the rapture is going to happen. I don’t
know that I was right not to baptize infants. I don’t even know that you
saying the prayer that I convinced half of you to pray was good enough to get
you saved!
Now, before you all have heart attacks of your own, let me tell you this: I
believe that God is faithful, and if it is your true desire to “be saved,”
with all that salvation encompasses, then God is faithful to that desire. I am
not necessarily calling into question your salvation; I was merely questioning
whether our methodology was all that important.
Also, I think I was at least close on a number of those things that I taught. If
I had to pick all over again among all of the choices of theologies that are out
there, I would probably pick the ones I have today. But, is that good enough for
me to condemn the church down the road? I don’t think so. I have to at least
acknowledge that they may have grasped some truth that I, in my limited ability
to understand, have missed.
Ten years ago, if someone had taken away my faith in all of my rigid beliefs and
opinions, I don’t think I would have known what to do. Ten years ago, I still
believed that having faith meant not having doubts. If you recall, ten years ago
I took a sabbatical to go back to seminary for a “refresher” because I felt
that my theological framework was shaky and I needed desperately to shore it up.
I had found holes in my theological roof that needed patching. But, after
attempting to patch these holes, I started thinking that perhaps it was more
than just a few holes that needed patching… perhaps it was my foundation that
was defective. Perhaps I wasn’t even a Christian at all!
God is good, however, and His very presence in my life assured me that yes,
indeed, I was a Christian. But, at the same time, I became more and more aware
that perhaps I wasn’t quite as converted as I thought I was. But, that’s a
sermon for another time, perhaps, if God’s willing.
So you can imagine what I’ve been going through these last few years, though
you probably couldn’t have detected it. If anything, I preached stronger and
harder, as I said, in an attempt to dissuade my own doubts. Now, however, I know
something. I know that I am wrong about some things, though I am not sure which
things I am wrong about. I’m probably a little wrong about everything. I also
know that God knows that I am wrong… His Word tells me that I am wrong! And, I
know that God is OK with that. It finally dawned on my that God doesn’t expect
us to see any better at this point than “through a glass darkly!”
And, the best thing is – for me, anyway – is that I am finally OK with that.
I am in total peace with knowing that I don’t understand a lot of things. I am
OK with not having all the answers. In fact, I am better than OK – I am great
with that! I am finally free from the burden of thinking I had to bear the
burden of holding truth together. It sounds so foolish, now that I say it out
loud.
Now, I told you a few minutes ago that I have found that I only know two things.
Before I tell you the 2nd, I want you to know that without knowledge of this 2nd
thing, I could not bear my first revelation. This second truth is so critical,
so foundational, that because of it, I don’t care that I don’t have all of
the other answers.
Turn with me please to 2 Timothy chapter 1, beginning at verse 8:
So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner.
But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God, who has
saved us and called us to a holy life--not because of anything we have done but
because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus
before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the
appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought
life and immortality to light through the gospel. And of this gospel I was
appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher. That is why I am suffering as
I am. Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am
convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.
This is the Apostle Paul, suffering for the sake of the Gospel, writing to his
friend Timothy. Note that Paul, even though he was suffering for this Gospel
that he preached, did not say, “I am suffering, because I know that the
doctrine of salvation by grace is true.” He did not say, “I am suffering
because I am a great apostle.” He said, “I am suffering because I know whom
I have believed.”
Just let this phrase roll around in your brain for a few moments: “I know whom
I have believed. I know whom I have believed.” Or, as another translation puts
it, “I know in whom I have believed.”
Try to think of this in a human, real context, which of course is really the
only way we can think of it. For those of you who are married, consider your
spouse. For you who are not married, consider your closest friend. Now, how many
of you are thinking of a collection of truths about that person? Green eyes,
brunette, 5 feet 10 inches, born March 15, 1942 in Chicago, has a bachelor’s
degree in accounting, allergic to cats, so on and so on.
No, if we really know the person we are thinking about, chances are our thoughts
were more emotional, more personal and intimate than just a collection of facts.
Perhaps you were thinking of how that person makes you feel when you are
together, or about how they make you laugh, or whatever. You might feel a warmth
in your heart as you think of the person. Or, if you’ve had an argument on the
way to church, you might have an entirely different set of feelings. But, you
see my point.
It was not a doctrine, a truth, an understanding or a theology that Paul
claimed, even though Paul believed and taught a lot of truths. No, Paul had
found something greater than a collection of truths. When Jesus came to Saul and
knocked him off his horse, struck him blind and asked him a very personal
question, “Why do you persecute me?” Jesus became someone real to Paul, not
just a collection of facts. And, as Paul grew in his relationship to Jesus, that
knowledge – of the person and personality of Jesus, not facts about Jesus –
grew deeper, more intimate, and more developed emotionally.
Listen to what he tells the Corinthian church, found in 1 Corinthians 2,
starting at verse 1:
When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom
as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing
while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in
weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were
not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's
power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power.
Why would Paul, of all people – he was without a doubt the best-educated
apostle of them all – come to these people with fear and trembling? Paul was,
in his own words to the church at Philippi, extremely educated in the facts of
the Jewish religion, a Jew among Jews, and without fault under the law. But
listen to what he tells them in chapter 3 of Philippians. We’ll pick up
at verse 8
What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness
of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I
consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a
righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith
in Christ--the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to
know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in
his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to
the resurrection from the dead.
Are you getting this? Are you seeing the different between a faith – if you
can call it a faith – built on having all the answers, and a faith founded on
one thing: knowing the person of Jesus?
A very interesting analogy can be found in Pride and Prejudice, with the
character of Darcy. He is introduced early in the story as a dark, humorless,
unlikable character. He is somewhat of a mystery, although quite a bit of
knowledge about him is revealed throughout the story. However, just as with our
imperfect knowledge of God, these facts are partially true, and partially false.
Mr. Darcy falls deeply in love with the character of Elizabeth, who rejects him
based on her imperfect knowledge about him. However, she soon finds that people
who know him, as opposed to merely know about him, have a completely different
opinion. In fact, even his servants speak highly of him. As the story progresses
we see Elizabeth’s opinions change through relationships – first with people
who know this Darcy, and then eventually through her own experiential knowledge
of him as he involves himself in her life.
The story, whether by purpose or by coincidence, speaks to us about our need for
the kind of knowledge that only comes from relationship. Our imperfect knowledge
will pass away as the Perfect is revealed to us. Like Paul, we need to consider
all we think we know about the minutia of Christianity rubbish in comparison to
the knowledge of the person of Jesus.
So, after all these years, this is what I know. I know that at best, my
understanding falls short. I don’t have all the answers. Some day I may
discover that I am on the wrong side of every theological issue I have
considered. But I am ok with that. I now know that my faith is not dependent
upon my theological understanding. What a gigantic load off my mind that is!
What I do know, is that I know in whom I have believed. I know Jesus, and I know
that my salvation – and yours – rests completely on Him. This, and only
this, is the foundation for my faith. If you have received anything from me over
the years, I hope with all of my heart that you have received this, and that you
can honestly say along with me, “I know Jesus, the one in whom I have believed
and in whom I place my trust.
Let’s stand.
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