Unique opportunities . . .

Listen along here:  https://www.pastorwoman.net/podcast/episode/1fdd5d5e/unique-opportu...

After a long drive north to the Jersey Shore, I walked into the kitchen filled with folks I was to be sharing an Air B n B for the weekend.  Straight up, I was concerned about the electrically-charged dynamic of these whose spirituality, values and politics are very far from mine—especially since it would be almost impossible to avoid talking about politics four weeks before the election.  On top of that, I felt God had impressed upon me that I was to look for ways to make Him a part of the conversation, at least in one-on-one discussions. While I love talking about God on the airplane, in the gym, at airports, etc., this was family . . . and obviously, very different. 

Nonetheless, with a sermon on Esther ringing in my ears, and the challenge to speak up, I was determined to be obedient. Yes, I had made up my mind.

On this day, as only God could do, He had gone before me.  There on the kitchen island around which we gathered was a Bible – a pink one with tabs, marking out the books of the Bible.  ‘Whose Bible?’ I asked, trying to sound casual about it.  ‘It’s mine,’ said my beautiful 23-year-old African American niece from San Francisco, who had been adopted as an infant by two white women.  To say hers has been a complicated upbringing would be an understatement.  And yet, there she was, with a Bible, and a pink one, at that!  

Deciding that my in-laws had every right to talk about their candidate for president, I did not get upset, but just busied myself with other things.  And as for God, I had several conversations, but the last one is the one that looms large. As I said my ‘goodbyes’ Sunday morning, commenting to my sister-in-law how great it had been to bond with 23-year-old Lili, she asked, ‘Did you get to read the Bible with her?’  Once again, the conversational door swung wide open.  After answering her question, I turned to her and asked, ‘Hey, El--what have you done with God?’ some of the same family members standing around the same kitchen island. 

‘Oh, I’m one with God,’ she said and laughed.  Undaunted, I asked, ‘and Jesus – what have you done with Him?’ Now this was especially interesting because standing on my left, was my Jewish-recently-married-into-the family sister-in-law, who was listening intently.  ‘Because Ellen, you have to make a determination about Jesus – this is not about religion or spirituality, or even being one with God—ultimately, what you think about and do with Jesus is critically important.’  

‘Yeah?’ Ellen asked, though I do not know that she really cared. ‘Yeah – you see, Jesus was a historical figure, and well, he either was who he said he was, the Son of God, or truthfully, he is of no importance whatsoever.’  At this, her partner walked out the door, casting over her shoulder, ‘oh, religion – the cause of so many wars,’  To which I said, ‘Not really because we aren’t talking about religion, we are talking about history.’

->And by historical, I mean that the life of Jesus Christ was set in a particular time, place and cultural context.  

‘Truly, just for one moment, consider the resurrection, because if Jesus did indeed rise from the dead, then he is who he said he was; he did what he said he was going to do.  But if he did not, the whole thing would have died, and well, we would not even be having this conversation right now.’ 

At which point my Jewish sister-in-law quietly said, ‘Can I ask a dumb question?’  ‘Of course…no dumb questions,’ I replied.  ‘Jesus was Jewish, and I’m Jewish, and I believe that, so what’s the difference?’ 

[Friends, in the last weeks, I have written about why you and I must, must, must be able to give the reason for what we believe, the ‘why’ Christianity is true.  And here is an example of why.]

'The crux of the matter is – do you believe Jesus is the Son of God, your Messiah?' was my response to my sister-in-law.

Because it was time to go, I turned once again and said, ‘And Ellen, Christianity is intellectually defensible . . . it is not about a feel-good crutch, as some have said.'  

No, Jesus’ life, death and resurrection was set in a certain place, at a point in time of history.

Which brings me back to where we find ourselves in Luke chapter three.  The first few verses tell us exactly who was ruling when Jesus began his ministry: Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate, and Herod . . .  right down to the Jewish high priests, Annas and Caiaphas.  Jesus Christ was the exact fulfillment of five dozen prophecies, born in Bethlehem and raised in Nazareth.  At 30 years of age, Luke tells us he is to begin his earthly ministry.  Luke 3.23.

Then a long, boring genealogy concludes the chapter . . .  really, Luke?  Yes, Luke the Gentile physician with his detailed manner traces Jesus’ ancestry all the way back to Adam. It would not be sufficient to trace his bloodline only to Abraham, as did Matthew, who was trying to show the Jewish people that Jesus was their long-promised Messiah.  No, Luke showed all of us, or as they say in my part of the country, 'all y’all', that we are included – there is a place at the table for us.  We are invited, and that is good news.  

That’s right – the Gospel is good news for every single one of us… including each of those gathered ‘round the kitchen island in New Jersey.  

great song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-kZ4Eb3XXg

Because He lives,

Christine

PastorWoman.net