As you come to pray about your Sunday mornings, you’ll likely encounter this roadblock: You’ll have spent a couple minutes praying before church. But now you’re in the middle of the service and you just aren’t feeling it. You sang the songs, but you were concentrating harder on getting the tune right than thinking about the words. You mindlessly plodded through the confession and creed because everyone else was. And now you’re halfway through the sermon and you just realized you haven’t understood a thing that’s been said. “What’s going on?” you may begin to wonder. “Am I being dumb? Are spiritual things just boring to me? Why can’t I focus?” The Apostle Paul has an answer for us. He tells the church at Corinth,

     Yes, to this day whenever Moses is read a veil lies over their [unrepentant Jews’]           hearts. But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the           Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.                                         (2 Cor 3:15-17, English Standard Version)

When Paul refers to reading Moses, he’s using shorthand for the Old Testament. Paul is saying that whenever those who reject Jesus read the Bible, they are unable to understand what’s really being said. This isn’t just a matter of unbelievers being unintelligent or not paying attention, it’s a matter of the heart. Remember this last Sunday when Pastor Mike pointed out that the Pharisees thought Jesus must be in league with the devil because he exorcised a demon? The Pharisees were the PhDs of their time, and they were certainly paying attention to what Jesus did. Intelligence and attention spans had nothing to do with it. Paul says that a veil is over their hearts. We know that if a veil is over our eyes, we cannot see those physical things that are plainly before us. But when a veil is over our hearts, we cannot see the spiritual things that are plainly before us. Yet all is not lost. Paul says that when we turn to the Holy Spirit, he takes the veil away.

          “But,” we can’t help wondering, “If I’ve already become a Christian, why is it that my heart so often feels veiled while I’m at church?”  

          Martin Luther famously described Christians as being sinners and saints at the same time. We know that we have died to sin (Rom 6:5-6), yet we also know that we sin constantly. Until Christ completes the work he began in us, we live in a cycle of sin and repentance. What we don’t think about is how when we sin, we’re effectively hoisting that veil over our hearts again.

         Does this mean all those people who are able to pay attention during the service haven’t sinned that week? Of course not! Sometimes, God graciously tears down the veil almost as soon as we’ve put it up. Other times, God graciously leaves it up, forcing us to see how we need to rely on him to even worship him. And when this happens, we need to seek God and beg that the veil be lifted from our hearts.

         We may be scared to ask for this. After all, if we had a child who blindfolded himself hundreds of times a day, we might get a little cranky about untying it nonstop. But God’s patience is infinite. He is not only willing to help us, he is full of compassion and loves to help us in this way. Jesus asks,

    What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a          serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil,       know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly             Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! (Luke 11:11-13)

And so our asking for the removal of the veil naturally leads us to the first lesson from Hebrews 10:24-25: meditating on the faithfulness of God.

Our preparation for Sunday mornings, then, should look something like this:

1. Turn to the Lord and ask that the Spirit would lift the veil from our hearts
2. Meditate on the faithfulness of God
3. Consider how we might stir one another up to good works
4. Look for ways to encourage our brothers and sisters in the Gospel

         Going to church next Sunday will still be hard. But the way to guarantee that it won’t get easier is to downplay the Spirit’s role in a God-glorifying service. We don’t need to wait until Sunday to begin praying that God would give us the right approach. Pray every night before bed. Pray on the drive to church. Pray when the service is beginning. Pray when you’re singing, confessing, and listening. Pray that the Spirit of God would remove the veil from your heart, that you might behold the glory of God. Pray that...

         We all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, [will be] transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit (2 Cor 3:18).

The practice of dragging yourself out of bed, making yourself extra presentable, and speeding through breakfast on the weekend isn’t especially appealing. If you manage to make it into the building before the service begins, that means you have enough time to either sit awkwardly and wait or have a few conversations with people you don’t really know. When the service does start, let’s be honest, you’ve got a lot of other things on your mind. Hopefully, by the time you’ve gone through a few songs, you’re starting to get in the right headspace for church. You might have wandered a few times during the prayer, but you’re back in the saddle once the pastor begins his sermon with a clever story. You do a decent job of paying attention—let’s just hope no one asks about the details of the sermon later. After communion, the service is pretty much wrapped up and now’s a good time to catch up with your friends, though most serious conversations will have to wait till you’re not in public. Or maybe you don’t feel like talking, so as soon as the benediction comes, you’re inconspicuously bolting toward the exit. By the time you get back home, you’re tired and hungry and the furthest thing from your mind is the Gospel.  

What’s gone wrong? Why are Christians always talking about going to church if this is what it’s like? Should we even bother going?

The answer to that last question is yes. The author of Hebrews reminds his fellow believers they should not be “neglecting to meet together” (Heb 10:25, English Standard Version). The problem isn’t that we’re meeting, it’s that we aren’t approaching meeting together as we should.

We approach church the way we approach everything else in life: as consumers. A very subtle question rules our minds: how can I use what’s in front of me to benefit myself? It’s what we think when we’re at the store, when we’re looking at new information, when we see a new tool at work, when we’re on our phones, when we’re browsing TV shows, and so on. We’ve trained ourselves to see everything as a product to be used. We’ve made ourselves into consumers. Take a minute and ask yourself, really ask yourself, “Am I a consumer when it comes to thinking about church?” Maybe you see church as the Christian version of the country club. Maybe it’s how you get your spiritual fix for the week. Or maybe it’s just a way to tell yourself that you’re doing well spiritually.

To understand how we’re supposed to approach church services, let’s take another look at what the author of Hebrews was saying:

Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Heb 10:24-25).

From this, we can draw out three helpful ways to approach our Sunday mornings:

1. Meditate on God’s faithfulness. When Christians meet and stir one another up, we are doing so as a result of meditating on the hope guaranteed us by our faithful God. We cannot effectively build each other up by our own strength. If you want to improve your local church, begin by “holding fast to the confession of our hope.” And make it a daily habit.
   
2. Think about building others up ahead of time. We should be actively considering “how to stir up one another to love and good works.” And “consider” is no light word. This isn’t something we can throw together once we pull in the parking lot—it requires us to spend a good deal of time thinking about our brothers and sisters in Christ before we go to church.
   
3. Encourage others by looking to Christ. The “Day drawing near” refers to the Day when our Lord comes back. So, when we meet, Christians are supposed to encourage each other as we look forward to the return of Jesus. That means our encouragement must be tied to the Gospel. Don’t settle for saying pleasant things to your friends at church—your encouragement needs to be Christ-centric.

Going to church is hard. But by prayerfully thinking about and applying Hebrews 10:24-25, by continually asking that God would bring life to our Sunday mornings, we just might come home from church thinking about the Gospel rather than ourselves.

Even when Dr. Weedman defined an unfamiliar word for us, he used other unfamiliar words to define unfamiliar words.  My professor seemed to be particularly fond of the word pejorative.  When defining an obscure word, he liked to approach the meaning of the word from every angle.  It seemed to me that his favorite angle was from the pejorative perspective. I had never heard that word, pejorative before.  But I learned that to use a word in the pejorative sense means to use it in a negative, derogatory, or uncomplimentary way.  For instance, if you call someone a politician in the pejorative sense, you mean that they are scheming and out for personal gain.  If you refer to someone as a hack, you are calling him a bad writer.   There is a certain word that begins with the letter “b” which is a proper descriptive term for a female dog.  But used in the pejorative sense, this “b” word is used as a synonym for a female jerk.

There is a plethora (overabundance) of words that when used in the pejorative sense, dishonor, offend, and hurt people.  Take the word holy for example.  In contemporary thinking, this word is closely related to the term nerd.  The word holiness is not thought of as a virtue in our culture, but as a vice. To be thought of as holy by your peers is to be regarded as being a nerd, or being weird. The pursuit of holiness is not cool in our culture.  Even in the church, holiness is something we are hesitant to pursue because the word is so often used in the pejorative sense. Nevertheless, holiness is something we are called to, which we see in 1 Peter 1:15-16:  ¹⁵ but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, ¹⁶ since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”    

We tend to ignore that directive.  We’re comfortable to add God to our lives as long as we don’t have to change the way we live. The Old Testament prophets, along with John the Baptist and then Jesus, called for a radical change for those who would trust and obey God. “Repent” was an indispensable word to those who proclaimed the Word of God in truth. To repent means to change not only our thinking but our actions. When we are saved, we are saved from our worldly desires and practices and called to live a life of holiness.  

So, what does it mean to live a life of holiness?  To be holy is the opposite of being “common” or “profane.” God is holy in that He is utterly different and distinct from His creation. He is in a class all by Himself.  His people must also be distinct, separate from the heathen attitudes and actions which characterized them as unbelievers.  Holiness is a way of life that affects everything we do. Holiness is not merely conforming to a list of rules.  To be holy is to be like God.

A couple of weeks ago we considered the question, “What kind of church do we want to be?”  Then we thought about the larger question:  “What kind of church does God want us to be?  That is, what kind of people does God want us to be?  The answer is clear.  God wants us to be like Him.  Which means God wants us to be holy.  That is, God wants us to love what is good, and hate what is evil.  Be holy.  Be like God. Even if your peers think you’re weird. 

No suffering occurs without purpose. Peter tells us suffering only comes to us when the sovereign God of the universe deems it necessary.  A sovereign and merciful God causes “all things to work together for our good” (Romans 8:28), meaning that a mixture of things that bring delight along with things that bring pain are necessary to work together for our good.  Though difficult, we may rest assured there is no senseless suffering for any genuine believer in Christ.

How do you distinguish a genuine believer from a hypocritical one? 

Suffering.

Suffering separates the genuine believer from the hypocritical one.   According to Peter, suffering is a test which exposes false faith and reveals the genuineness of true faith. Our Lord spoke of this in the parable of the soils:

And other seed fell on the rocky ground where it did not have much soil; and  immediately it sprang up because it had no depth of soil … And in a similar way these are the ones on whom seed was sown on the rocky places, who, when they hear the word, immediately receive it with joy; and they have no firm root in themselves, but are only temporary; then, when affliction or persecution arises because of the word, immediately they fall away” (Mark 4:5, 16-17).

The plant that comes up in the shallow soil looks genuine.  For a while.  Then the sun beats down, exposing the absence of a root system that would provide the necessary nourishment. When times are good, you can’t tell the difference between a shallow Christian and a deep Christian.  Good times don’t require depth.

Satan never really seemed to understand depth.  He was sure Job was faithful to God only because God blessed him with so many good things. Take all of that away, Satan said, and Job will curse you to your face. So, God allowed Satan to bring intense pain and suffering into Job’s life to reveal the depth of Job’s faith and character—to reveal whether Job was an authentic believer, or just a fair weather one. Every form of suffering is hard, and we would like to avoid suffering if possible.  But not at the expense of not becoming the kind of Christians God wants us to become—deep, authentic, genuine.

By far and away the primary criticism non-believers have with the church has something to do with their perception that we are hypocrites; that is, that we are not authentic Christians.  Were it not for suffering, those who are watching us with a critical eye might logically conclude that we are not authentic.  But suffering is the litmus test.  Suffering exposes false faith and reveals genuine faith. 

Case in point—Hickory Hollow Mall in suburban Nashville, TN.  Located in a booming area of Music City, Hickory Hollow Mall was the largest retail shopping center in the state for many years. It was built in 1978 and in 1998 it sold for $200 million.  Businesses and residential complexes sprung up like mushrooms, seemingly overnight.  But due to several unforeseen factors including a high crime rate, the area started to decline. 

Car dealerships, restaurants, and retail establishments vanished as quickly as they appeared.  Hickory Hollow Mall, a two story retail monstrosity of well over a million square feet soon sat empty.  A few years ago, the mall and the 27 acres of land it sat on sold for $1,000,000.  How could a huge mall on such a large tract of land near the interstate only twelve miles from the downtown district of booming city sell for pennies on the dollar?  I’m not an economist, so I can’t say for sure.  But what I can say is that the sale of Hickory Hollow Mall at a fire sale price certainly helps put things into perspective for us.

When you have a big problem, you’re tempted to be caught up with that problem. It dominates your mind. You start obsessing about it and thinking that it is the worst thing that you’ve ever had to deal with.  I’m not saying the pending sale of our current facility is the worst thing I’ve ever encountered.  But I am saying that there are plenty of things in life that can stress us out—financial matters, health issues, and relational problems to mention a few.  But what should we do when stressful situations threaten to undo us?  We should do what the Bible encourages us to do—put our problems into perspective with God.  There’s no denying  that our problems are significant,  but we should put them in perspective by comparing them to our God.

In the book of 1 Peter, we see the apostle talking to Christians under duress, and he says, “The first thing that we need to do together is praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” In other words, Peter is saying that it’s always time to give praise to God. There’s never a time when a Christian can’t give praise to God, even when in deep distress.

Jesus tells another story that involves a pig—the parable of the Prodigal Son.  It’s one of the most familiar parables Jesus told. A man had two sons.  The younger son decided he wanted his share of the inheritance now.  He didn’t want to wait until his father died.  So, the father shelled out a large sum of money and gave it to his younger son.  This young man lived “high on the hog” for a while.  But when his money ran out, his friends did too, and the young prodigal was left to fend for himself.  The economy was in deep recession, so the only job he could get was feeding pigs.  He was so hungry that the pods he was feeding to the pigs began to look good to him.  You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you’re competing with pigs on their home field for slop.  So the young prodigal swallowed his pride and headed home, hoping his father would take him on as a hired hand.  But the father welcomed his son home, and threw a big party to celebrate.  The elder son was miffed, and refused to join in the celebration.

Both of these stories involving pigs raise a pertinent question: Just how deep does your gratitude run for God? It might not run as deeply as you think.  Consider the elder brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son.  He had plenty to be thankful for, yet he chose to pout about his brother’s homecoming instead of enjoying the family Thanksgiving feast.  These two brothers have more in common than their status as sons of the same father.  Each of them chose to wallow in something disgusting.  The younger brother wallowed with the pigs while the older brother wallowed in bitterness and self-pity.  Which was worse?  At least the younger brother realized what he was doing and climbed out of the pig pen.  The older brother stayed right where he was.

Here’s the underlying question for all of us—how can someone who has received so many blessings be so extremely ungrateful?  If anyone should have been absolutely contented, shouldn’t it have been the older brother?  It’s amazing, isn’t it, that doing all the right things, possessing the benefits of estate living do not guarantee a grateful heart?  If there is anything we should learn from this parable it’s this—there is no joy in life apart from a grateful heart.

So, if this parable isn’t primarily about the afterlife, what is it about?  Maybe it’s about the need to care for the poor.  A good argument could certainly be made for that. But when Jesus told this parable, he did so on the heels of the other parables he told—the parable of the lost sheep/coin/sons, and the parable of the shrewd manager.  Jesus told these parables in response to an accusation from the scribes and Pharisees that he could not be a man of God because he fraternized with tax collectors and sinners.  In each of these parables, including the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus is saying something that should startle the Pharisees from their spiritual slumber. He’s contrasting the lavish mercy of God with the absolute lack of mercy on the part of the Pharisees.  

In the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus converts the currency of mercy into the currency of money.  By doing so, he makes a point that the Pharisees should easily get—the thing that was more important to them than anything was not the souls of lost people or of the lavish grace and mercy that is required to save the lost.  It was money.  They loved money more than they loved anything.  More than people.  More than God.

In this parable, Jesus is making it poignantly clear that the Pharisees are in danger of Hell.  They have been custodians of the law.  They kept the rituals religiously, but ignored the heart of the law.   They showed no mercy to those who needed it.  When the rich man found himself in the place of torment, he soon discovered that there was no relief.  And he also learned that no one could return from the dead to warn his brothers of the danger they were in.  If Abraham could not show mercy to this man, then would he show mercy to his brothers by sending Lazarus back from the dead to warn them?  “They have Moses and the Prophets,” Abraham says. “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead’” (Luke 16:30-31).

In a sense, the Word of God is more powerful than a resurrection.  The Word of God can produce a repentant heart.  Resurrection cannot do that.   In this parable, Jesus is not saying mercy is denied.  Mercy is extended to anyone who will receive the Word of God and live it out.  But for anyone who rejects the Word of God, there is nothing else God can do.

There are other words and phrases in the historic creeds that are difficult. Most translations of both the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds confess belief in the “catholic” church. Catholic? I thought this was a Protestant church! The Apostles’ Creed says that Jesus “descended into hell.” What does that mean? Is it actually taught anywhere in Scripture?

The women’s Bible study suggested that I answer some of these questions in this week’s sermon. That sounds great to me, but it also sounds like a two-hour sermon (at least). What I am planning to do instead is to start another “series” on the historic creeds of the church. (Since I am not the regular preacher, this series will of course take me a while to finish!)

This Sunday, instead of focusing on any of these difficult phrases, I want to look at a bigger question: why use the creeds at all? Isn’t “Scripture alone” enough for us? Why not just say we believe the Bible? Why not just stick with the Restorationist slogan, “No creed but Christ, no book but the Bible”?

For now, I’ll just give a short and snarky answer: “no creed but Christ, no book but the Bible” is a creed. It’s just not a very good creed, nor is it a Biblical one. It says nothing about who Christ is or what the Bible teaches. False teachers can and often do claim to be following Christ and the Bible. Creeds function as a “pattern of sound words” for us to follow. They do not replace the authority of the Bible, but they serve as guides and teachers. They help ensure that we are rightly handling the word of truth.

Jesus is speaking to the same cluster of people to whom he was telling the Parable of the Prodigal Son—the Pharisees.  The Lord used the Parable of the Prodigal Son to respond to the question of why he eats with tax collectors and sinners.  A man of God would not do that.  At least that’s what they thought.  But Jesus wanted the Pharisees to see themselves objectively, so he told them this parable to awaken them to the reality that they did not care about the lost.  

In the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus is communicating the same message to the Pharisees, but from a different angle.  Lazarus, because of the intensity of his predicament, was willing to eat food that came out of the garbage can.  That’s because the wealthy person of the parable would not help him AT ALL.  The rich man in the parable is so callused regarding the human condition that he won't even let the beggar eat his trash! “You do not care about anyone’s soul but your own,” Jesus is saying.  “You have a vast treasure of knowledge of the Scriptures, but you won’t share that spiritual food with anyone.  Instead you chose to critique the Word and argue about it—all the while the world was lost around you, dying for the crumbs.”    

The rich man and Lazarus both die.  The rich man is in agony, and Lazarus is in Paradise.  The rich man begs father Abraham to send Lazarus to bring just a little relief from his torment.  Abraham issues a kindly worded, but firmly stated denial of the rich man’s request.  Then all of a sudden, the rich man seems to care about his five brothers.  To Abraham he says, “Send Lazarus to warn them.”  Abraham replies, “They have Moses and the Prophets.  Let them hear them.”  “No, father Abraham, the rich man counters, “But if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.”  To which Abraham emphatically says, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.”

No miracle, no matter how sensational, will convince someone to repent—even if someone were to come back from the dead.  Only the Word of God has the power to convince someone to repent.   If we are not convinced by God’s Word to repent, there’s nothing left God can do. The Pharisees prided themselves on their righteousness through strict obedience to their interpretation of God's law. They also despised others, especially tax collectors and sinners.  And, as we see in this parable, you can add the poor to the list of those whom the Pharisees despised. The irony here is that those who truly believed they served and represented God would not help someone "whom God helps."  The name Lazarus means, “One whom God helps.”  If we are not convinced by God’s Word to repent, there’s nothing left God can do.  But if we listen to the Word of God and respond to it, we become someone whom God helps.

Once upon a time, there was a good king. His name was Josiah. One cool thing about Josiah is that he was only eight years old when he became king! Even though he was very young, he was a very good king. He loved God. And he wanted all the people in his kingdom to love God, too.

One day, some people were cleaning out the temple and found some scrolls--not just any scrolls, but scrolls that had part of the Bible on them! The scrolls had instructions for how to love God and love each other. Everyone had forgotten these instructions, but Josiah made sure they followed them again. He led his people to get rid of their idols--which are pretend gods--and start worshiping the real God again. It was exciting!

Unfortunately, Josiah’s sons did not love God or follow his Word. They were bad kings. One of them was named Jehoiakim. One day, a prophet came to Jehoiakim to read a message from God. Do you know what Jehoiakim did? He burned God’s message! The good king Josiah loved God’s word, but his son, the bad king Jehoiakim, tried to destroy God’s word.

Josiah had three other sons--and one grandson--who were also kings. All of them were bad kings! It was a sad time for God’s people. You see, what made the bad kings so bad is that they led their kingdom to be a bad kingdom. They led people to worship pretend gods, instead of loving god. They let people hurt each other and steal from each other, instead of loving their neighbors.

Because of this, God was angry with his people. He decided to send them to exile--think of that like a big, awful, loooooong time-out. Only worse. Way worse. God was very angry with his people, so they couldn’t live in His special land anymore. But, God was especially angry with the leaders. They were in charge. They were supposed to set a good example, take care of their people, and lead them to follow God. Instead, they hurt their people and led them to hurt each other.

Do you remember the prophet God sent to the bad King Jehoiakim--the one with the scroll that Jehoiakim burned? That prophet was named Jeremiah. (There are a lot of J-names in this story!) God sent Jeremiah to tell them how angry he was, and that the exile time-out was coming soon.

Jeremiah said these bad kings were like bad shepherds. A shepherd is supposed to take care of the sheep. He keeps them together, keeps them safe, makes sure they have food and water. Well, these bad kings were like shepherds who attacked their own sheep instead of feeding them! Instead of keeping them together in a safe place, they chased them scattered them far away.

Oh no! Was that the end of God’s people? NO!

Jeremiah said that even though the bad kings had been bad shepherds of God’s people, God himself would still be a good shepherd. God promised to punish the bad shepherds, and bring his people back from all the scary places he had sent them. Not one sheep would be lost. The big time-out wouldn’t last forever!

God promised that another Good King was coming--an even better Good King than good king Josiah! This Even Better Good King would rule wisely, and he would make sure the kingdom was full of “justice and righteousness.” “Justice and righteousness” is a special way of saying that this king would make sure his people follow God’s perfect plan for loving Him and loving each other.

But it gets even better than that. Wait, what could be better than that? Well, Jeremiah gives the Even Better Good King a special name. It’s kind of a funny name: “God, our righteousness.”  What does that mean? Well… God knew that people are sinners. As sinners, we can’t perfectly follow his plan for loving him and loving each other. So God sent a good king who did something better than just teach us to be righteous. He sent an Even Better Good King to give us His own righteousness!

We usually call the Even Better Good King something different than “God is our righteousness.” have you guessed who he is already? (It’s another J-name!) His name is Jesus.