Matthew 7: 24-27 - More Than a Contingency

24 “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. 25 The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. 26 And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!”

It's always difficult revisiting well known scripture passages, because we all come to it pretty much knowing what it means. If you grew up in the church, this is probably one of the passages you remember seeing put up on the felt board or singing about or building a craft for during Sunday school. We get into the routine of quoting this passages when times get tough or when talking to someone about coming to faith. One of my favorite hymns, The Solid Rock, is well known. So we approach these verses and immediately think, "What more is there to say?"

The problem is that we often only read half of this passage. "Everyone who hears these words and acts on them is like the wise man who built his house on rock. And everyone who hears these words and does not act of them is like the fool who built his house on sand." The storms often feel like they're thrown in for dramatic flair, and we tend to live out the verse that way. We're mot convinced that if we build on the rock, we'll have a storm repellant house, that we'll somehow be free of any storms that will hit our lives. When we ask why bad things happen to good people, the underlying assumption is that the good people should have found the key to avoid the storms altogether. Yet Jesus says nothing to this effect. In fact, he doubles down on the inevitability that you will be hit with a storm with enough force to blow your house over. And when that day comes, you will know whether your house was ready for the storm.

We read this passage often in times when the storm is not hitting our lives, and I know for me, I struggle to feel any sense of urgency. Much like those in the time of Noah, I most often assume that the storm is non-existent, but even if it is, I assume it's not going to hit me any time soon. And let's face it, it's much easier to build sandcastles than houses. We can play in the sand, sometimes building pretty impressive structures that seems so easy to manipulate and wield. Houses are stressful and painful; they require attention and focus not just to erect but also to maintain. A little sand here or there on a sandcastle and everything is as good as new, but a house requires a commitment and process. And in a culture where we desire quick, easy solutions, often sandcastles seem more appealing than houses.

Of course we all know those sandcastles don't last. Even the smallest of waves will topple that structure to the ground, washed away and destroyed. But even in the worst storms, though a house may seem completely destroyed, usually the foundation will remain. Sure, it may be cracked and broken, needing repair, but a firm foundation will always remain.

The trap we often fall into is believe that we can start building just before the storm comes or shortly after it hits. Our faith is more of a contingency plan rather than our insurance. We'll try everything else first, but if all else fails, we still have faith. The problem is usually our faith is sitting on a shelf in the house than serving as its foundation, and when all else has failed to keep our lives secure, our faith gets thrown out with the rest of the rain soaked garbage the storm has destroyed. Jesus is calling us to build our foundation on the rock, that our first line of defense should be our faith. To use a common political ad analogy, at 3 AM, when everything seems to be crashing down, our first call should be to God. God is not just a contingency plan that we thrown into place once all else has (inevitably) failed. God's faithfulness is what keeps us going, no matter how hard we a battered and broken.

If you're familiar with engineering or just with home construction, you'll know that most of the strength of a building and its height is determined by how strong its foundation is, and that in order to have a taller bigger building, you must have a much more solid, firmer foundation. The same is true of trees. Many trees fall not because they have weak trunks but because they have shallow roots. The reason why the Redwoods of Sequoia National Park or the Bristlecone pines in the Sierra Nevada Mountains still stand is because they have deep roots. Those roots allow the tree to bend, contort, and twist so that no matter how strong the winds are or how powerfully the rain breaks up the soil, the tree will still be able to stand. And the same is true of our faith. We don't stand, we don't survive, we don't thrive without deeps roots in our faith. Sure, you can choose to grow in different soil, with vast shallow roots, but it's no better than building your house on sand. Once the ground starts shifting, it's hard to stay standing.

Jesus us asks us and invites us to build on a firm foundation where in even the worst storm your house will still stand. And make no mistake: the storms will come. Jesus never claims that this life is easy no matter what you believe. The storms will come when you least expect them and often when you're least prepared. Build your house on the solid rock. When all else fails, the rock will remain.

Acts 2: 1 - 21

2 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

I've always found myself in the middle of transitions. When I was in elementary school, our district changed so that the high school took freshmen, the the junior high schools became middle schools (6th-8th grades), and all the elementary schools became K-5. We had three different principals in elementary school while I was there. At church in middle school, I had three youth group leaders during my three years. In high school, I had three high school youth group leaders in four years. In high school, the schedule changed to accommodate the high school exit exams and institute portfolio work for each student (neither of which I took a part of). I watched technology transform school as my papers went from being written with pen and paper to being written on a computer. Research went from studying books in a library to finding web resources from library databases. In college, the theology curriculum was being changed while I was going through the program. During my high school and college years at my church, I watched our church transition between 3 pastors in 7 years, and watched as a 1000+ member church was reduced to just over 100. In seminary, the curriculum at Princeton Seminary changed to reduce the required number of credits for graduation from 90 to 78. My first job in a church after seminary was with a youth group that had just gone through 3 youth pastors in two years. I became the fourth to leave. at even at Fuller Seminary, I've watched as my boss went from being my boss to being CIO, I've seen a president of 30 years retire, and all of the deans of every school at Fuller transition to someone new as well as seeing two new deans installed.

I look at a passage like this on Pentecost Sunday and see the same type of transition happening again. The cataclysmic event has already happened as we talked about last week. The stage has been set for change. Jesus has turned everything on its head. He was crucified, dead, and buried; and then suddenly in three days he is back, risen, resurrected. His disciples are expecting great things, and Jesus once again tells them that more change is still to come. And then ... they wait. We don't really know how long it takes for them to see the day of Pentecost come. In Acts it seems very rapid fire, but it could have been some time.

I want to pause here and say I think this is how our Christian lives tend to play out, is it not? How often does it feel like we're waiting for the next thing to happen? The next big event that will turn everything around, that will set everything right, that will just start whatever it is that we're waiting for? I think part of the reason it is important to remember Pentecost and celebrate it is because it is a reminder that we are waiting for something special and that our waiting is worthwhile. In the transitions I've experienced, waiting is always a big part of it. And it can be agony to wait. It feels like idle, wasted time. But part of the message of Pentecost is that our waiting is for a reason, and when the change comes, it comes in a big way.

It takes the disciples by surprise. In a room locked away, private, where they are waiting and unsure of how things will play out now that Jesus has come, the Spirit comes. And it comes like a hurricane. It fills the house and it fills the disciple, and something amazing begins to happen. They receive power. Remember back to Acts 1:8: "You receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses..." And so it is. They begin speaking in languages they had never learned or spoken before, even perhaps that they had never heard before. And in the midst of Jerusalem (again, think Acts 1:8), they begin witnessing to the power of God.

Take a moment to reflect on that. Have you been in a situation like that before? Can you think of a time when you received power like this? Maybe not to this level, but when you got the courage to go through something you never thought you could face; received the words you thought you wouldn't be able to come up with on your own; the resolve to face a problem you thought was insurmountable? That's the power that the disciples received, and it's the power you receive when the Holy Spirit rests on you and when you trust in the Spirit's power. It is an awe inspiring moment.

Yet in this moment, there is still something unsettling. Pentecost is the beginning of the transition, and change is never without pain. You get the sense that the Jews witnessing this are frightening by it. And shouldn't they be? Put yourself in their shoes for a moment: these disciples of Jesus, who were with one of the most disruptive figures in Jerusalem and Judea, are now in the streets speaking (probably yelling) in foreign languages. I would be scared! I'd probably think they were possessed! You get this mixed sense from the text that the Jews are both amazed and frightened all at once. But you also have those who are simply dismissive. You have some Jews who are basically saying, "Clearly these guys are drunk." This leads to one of the best lines of scripture given by Peter: "Hey, we can't be drunk, it's only 9 in the morning!" But you sense that this transition is painful, unsettling, scary.

But perhaps the most scary of all is that this transition is not just about those listening; it's also about those proclaiming. At this point, the biggest transition has happened for Peter, James, John, and the rest: they are no longer disciples. They have become apostles. They are no longer the ones sitting at Jesus' feet only to learn; they are now the ones called to have others sit at their feet and proclaim the Gospel.

And it's the same call that we are given on this Pentecost Sunday.

The problem with waiting is that sometimes we become complacent with waiting. We are content to sit on our hands and do nothing and wait for someone else to take up the mantle. I think too often in the church that's the attitude we have. We'll wait for the sign from God, we'll wait for the right person to show up, we'll wait for the right curriculum to be produced, we'll wait and wait and wait and wait until finally we've forgotten what we're waiting for. Part of the message of Pentecost is that the wait is over. The Spirit has come and come with power. And we have been called, each of us, to take up the mantle and go forward. We have been called to be apostles proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.

This doesn't mean that we stop learning or stop being disciples altogether. We do not possess the wisdom and goodness of Christ, but we point to it and are constantly subject to it. But we are never meant to be only in the disciple posture. The author of Hebrews talks about it in term of food. The author says that at some point we need to get off the baby milk and start eating the real food. At some point we have to stop filling the bottle and actually start cooking. We get to a point where words are not enough; action is needed. And on Pentecost Sunday, we are reminded that we have been called not just sit at the feet of Jesus, but to walk in Jesus' footsteps and follow him.

That's a scary thing. Like any transition, there is always fear and uncertainty. Is this new plan going to work? Do we really know if we're going in the right direction? Are we sure that this is really what we're supposed to be doing. But the promise that we have from Jesus is that we're not walking alone. We are walking in the Spirit. We are moving in the Spirit. We are led by the Spirit. And it is in the Spirit that we have power.

So as we leave here this morning, remember that you go called to be not just a disciple, but an apostle. You have been given the task, the honor of being God's witness, the one who testifies on behalf of God, pointing to Jesus and the Spirit. You do not go alone but in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Acts 1:6-14

Acts 1:6-14 (NRSV): 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10 While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11 They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. 13 When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of[a] James. 14 All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

You've probably heard Acts 1:8 before. It's a verse that's been used a lot recently, especially in Missional Theology circles. Especially around Pentecost, it's a verse that reminds us of our call to be witnesses, that we should go out and preach the gospel. Certainly that's an important part of this passage, but I think we can easily miss a larger part of what's happening here. For Luke, this is an incredible moment, a defining moment that will forever change history. This is the "second volume" of Luke's work on Jesus and the Apostles, and he starts with this story purposefully to emphasize that one chapter of God's story has ended and a new one has begun. And to find out how it's changed, we have to go back to the beginning.

If you talk to Old Testament scholars and ask them what the most important verse or chapter is in the Old Testament, they'll probably tell you ... that it's impossible to choose. But if you press them more, you will find that many scholars point to Genesis 12. The beginning of Genesis 12 says this:

12 Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2 I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3 I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

This, scholars would argue, sets the stage for everything else that happens in the Old Testament, and that all of Israel's history and existence is defined by these three verses. It is in this passage that God promises Abraham two things: that he will be given land and that he will be the father of a great nation, God's nation. It is through Israel that God will work through the world. Anyone that Israel blesses will be blessed by God, and anyone Israel curses will be cursed.

If you follow the story of the Old Testament, almost every major event in the Old Testament hinges around this passage. In the story of Genesis, the question needing to be resolved is how Abraham will have children when Sarah is barren, and this promise weighs so heavily on Abraham that he sleeps with his servant in order to try to fulfill the promise. But once Sarah has Isaac, the story shifts to the second part of the promise: the promise of land and a great nation. This becomes the basis for the struggles, the triumphs, and defeats that Israel goes through for the rest of the Old Testament. The struggle for Canaan, the establishment of Israel with the judges, the desire for a King, and the loss of not only their kingdom but their land; all of these existential crises find their basis in Genesis 12. Part of the reason the exile is so devastating to the Israelites is not simply because their Kingdom was overthrown, but also because it seemed to indicate a broken promise from God. They were promised land and a kingdom, and either God failed to upload the promise, or the Israelites failed. Based on the prophets, the answer to that problem is the latter.

OK, well, that's all well and good, but what does that have to do with Acts? Let's go back to the beginning of the Gospels. We find Israel in a state of waiting and anticipation. The Jews are once again in a state of captivity under the Roman government. They've been given some autonomy, but their leadership in many places is corrupt and ultimately they are forced to serve Caesar. There are a number of different groups forming. Some are simply waiting for God to intervene and overthrow the Roman government and re-establish the Kingdom of Israel. Others believe that God is calling them to overthrow the government themselves and have even tried revolting (the most catastrophic revolt taking places in the late 60s AD, resulting in the destruction of the Temple). Still others believe that Israel has lost its piety and needs to cleanse itself spiritually so that God can cleanse the land. And for each of these factions, leaders had risen, claimed to be the one who would lead Israel out of its present captivity, and ultimately failed to do so.

Then comes Jesus, the most unlikely of leaders from a small, unknown, seedy town in Galilee. He begins preaching that God's Kingdom is near, that now is the time to repent, but he doesn't seem to embrace any of the existing factions, yet all the factions in one way or another seem to think his message applies to them. Ultimately, he ends up with the same fate as the other supposed-Messiahs. But then we have his miraculous resurrection, which is where Luke leaves us at the end of volume 1.

So now we come back to Acts. Jesus has returned, he is about ascend back to God, yet his disciples have one last question. Now, if you know the Gospels well, you know that the disciples are .... well, they're not the sharpest tools in the shed. They typically don't get what Jesus is all about, and sometimes they laughably get it wrong. And once again, after spending at least a year with Jesus (and perhaps even 3 depending on your timeline), they still don't get. They are Jesus if now is the time that Jesus will restore the Kingdom of Israel. And we'll find that they don't completely get it until Pentecost. But for now, Jesus helps them out again. And he harkens back to Genesis 12:

He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Think back to Genesis 12: why did God promise Abraham children and land? What purpose was that for? Because God wanted to reach the entire world. You see, the Israelites assumed that God's blessing was just for them. They assumed that they were the sole recipients of God's gifts and they were meant for them alone. But all along, even back to Genesis 12, the point is that God planned to use Israel to bless the rest of the world. We come back to Acts, and Jesus not only reaffirms that call but heightens. Not just you as a nation, but you as individuals will be my witnesses. You will carry the testimony. You will be the blessing. And it won't stop just for Jerusalem and Judea, it will be for Samaria (your worst enemy) and your oppressors, and those who you haven't even met yet or even know about. You are the blessing and the witness of the greatness of God's glory.

How often, when we come to church, do we see ourselves as being a blessing to others? Do we feel that what we do in the sanctuary, in the fellowship hall, and on the church grounds is not just an act of worship but an act of witnessing? I think many times when we go to church, we assume that what's there is happening just for us or is meant to be meaningful just to the people in building. Sure, we do our mission trips and local outings, but those can often feel disconnected. They don't feel like a natural outflow of what happens in our service. Yet Jesus seems to indicate that our vocation is that of witness. We are meant to be proclaimers of the Gospel, God's blessing in the world, yet how common is it for us to view ourselves and our church that way?

I fear that our churches have increasingly become closed social clubs. Dying social clubs at that. When we think about our numbers, it's commonly in terms of recruitment: how do we recruit people to be a part of our community? Our activities are commonly designed to keep people entertained: what will make people be interested in coming to church? And our worship services are often about disconnecting from the world around us than trying to connect with the community that needs to know about God's redemption. We talk more about relevance than redemption. Jesus is calling us out of our preconceived notions about what it means to be God's people and is calling us to act like his works actually made a difference. Jesus is calling us to be the blessing that God's people were always meant to be.

We have been called to be God's witnesses, to testify about the good works that have been done and to proclaim and point to the works that God is doing. So as you go out today, be God's blessing. Be God's witness in a world that is strangled by darkness, despair, and pain. Be the voice that calls out that God has made a way and that the suffering and evil in this world do not have the final say. "You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem (your home), in all Judea (your land) and Samaria (your neighbors whether good or bad), and to the ends of the earth (beyond what we can possibly imagine)."