The Healing Power of NO

Practicing the Christian act of nay saying.

SCRIPTURE:
 Ecclesiastes 9:1-3
 Ecclesiastes 10:4
 Ecclesiastes 12:12-14

Introduction

What is a two-letter word that we often don’t like to hear? It is a word you have probably used on your kids,
maybe a word used toward your dog, and even to your friends. The word I am talking about is “No.”

When you hear the word “no,” often you are going to associate the word in a negative way. “No” comes out
when something bad happens or is something that prevents a bad thing from happening. For a young man
asking a girl out on a date, “no” is a bad thing for him. For a parent telling their child “No cookies before
dinner” is preventing the child from having a cookie and warning them that it will not be good if they do.

There are a lot of cases where we have been told “no” and did not like it. We probably felt restrained in those
times or even rejected. Let’s face it, “no” is not a fun word.

The Bible tells us that God says “no” also, but the difference is God’s “no” is not a rejection or restraining word
for us. In fact, it is quite the opposite. When God says “no” there is a healing power to it, because God is saying
“no” to the things that would lead us to hurt and despair.

When God says “no,” he also invites us to do the same, he invites us to say “no” to worry, anger, and the world,
because when we do it begins healing for true presence and relationship that are found only in God.

So, let’s think of what God has said “no” to in your life that has provided healing and what you might need to
say “no” to as well.

Saying ‘No’ to Worry, Heals Us for Presence

The Preacher begins Ecclesiastes 9 with a claim that we are not in control of our lives.

(Read Eccl. 9:1-3)

Anything awaits us. It could be good or bad. No matter who we are, no matter our age, race, gender, identity,
finances, job, or talents, we do not know what tomorrow brings. However, we try so hard to be in control of
that. We make plans in hopes to have some sort of grounding on tomorrow and the future, but all we can do is
expect, because anything can happen.

The University of California held a study with mice. They had a hypothesis that mice were anxious creatures
and that when they are placed in an open space they will do whatever they can to escape it. Think about it, you
don’t usually see a mouse or a rat hanging out in the open. They aren’t chilling on your couch watching TV nor
are they by the swimming pool enjoying some summer cheese. These little guys love to be in dark, enclosed,
spaces because that removes many variables of their possible death.
When I first read that story, I thought was very interesting, and then I realized that story related to me too. I am
someone who wants to remove every possible variable that can be negative towards me. I want to be in control
of the situation because at least then I feel I can have an idea of what’s going on.

There are areas in our lives that we want to be in control of. Maybe it’s our finances, or our job, perhaps it’s our
family, or even the church we go to. Whatever it is, we all worry about circumstances and try our best to fight
them.

You don’t need to worry. In fact, God uses Ecclesiastes and wisdom of the Preacher to teach us how to say “no”
to worry. When we worry, our minds are never in the right place. They are never present, because they are
always focused on something hypothetical that has not happened yet. When you worry, your mind is not on the
people or the place in front of you. It is on something not real in a possible future.

God frees us to say “no” to worry and control, so it can heal us to be present now. To not worry about the
future, but to see the beauty of what God has given today. Jesus himself reminds us of this in Matthew 6:25.
God is going to take care of you. Why? Because God takes care of his children, his beloved. He has taken care
of us in the past, in Scripture, and throughout history, and he will take care of us today.

Saying ‘No’ to Anger, Heals Us for Relationship

God also says “no” anger, because that heals us for relationship.

(Read Eccl. 10:4)

The Hebrew word marpē which translates to “calmness” and can also be used for gentleness, composure,
soothing, and pacifying. Now going a little deeper, marpē is derived from the root word rāpā which means “to
heal.” This word from the Preacher is not about saving face or looking more mature. It is about healing.
Even when the person that has gone against us is a fool or immature. Even when we rightly so could condemn
them. The Preacher says remain calm, endure, because the goal is not our pride or vindication, its healing.

(Read James 1:2, 19 and Luke 23:34)

Let me be clear, if your situation is abusive and dangerous then get out of there for your safety. Sometimes all
we can do is remove ourselves from these situations and hope healing comes in the future from God. However,
if in other situations that are not abusive or dangerous, we are called to endure and to love those who are against
us.

In Marvel’s Captain America Civil War, the villain of the movie is not someone who is diabolical or a person
who wants to watch the world burn. He is a husband, son, and father who lost his family in a tragedy. He let his
bitterness and his anger consume him that led him to try and end all heroes. Near the end of the movie as
Ironman and Captain America are fighting against one another. The Black Panther who has sought out this man
for killing his dad listens to his reasons and after pausing and lowering his weapon he says, “Vengeance has
consumed you, it has consumed them, and I am done letting it consume me.”

Anger, bitterness, pride, and rage only divides us. It separates us from our enemies and tells us we can only be
with people who are like us and treat us nicely. Unfortunately, this worldly view infiltrated the church a long
time ago and has become ingrained in our culture that is even more divided today. Those who believe
differently are ousted, those who act differently are excluded. Those who upset our routine, those who have a
different voice, those who anger us and cause us frustration because of their foolishness. We remove and burn
bridges of relationship.
The church is called to be a mosaic of people who confess Jesus as Lord. We are called to live a certain way
that counters the world, and we are discerning and diligent in how we act only as a response to being saved. Yet
somehow this has gotten lost in our anger and frustration with the world. It’s chaotic, confusing, and muddy.

God calls us to endure, God calls us to be present among people who are foolish and arrogant. Because God has
been present with us when we have been foolish and arrogant. There is no one in this world who has not been
the enemy of someone else and most of all the enemy of God.

(Read Rom. 3:23)

Key word is ALL. You and me, we fell short. But through God’s love, God said “no” to bitterness. Despite our
sin, despite our rebellion, despite our flawed views and choices, he endured and loved us and says “no” to
anger, that we might be healed for relationship.
Brothers and sisters, when we say “no” to anger, we recognize that we are freed and healed to grow in
relationship with one another. That there is more of a chance for healing than there would be if we gave into it.
We recognize our real enemy is sin and how it has encased our brother or sister who is living foolishly in it.
When we say “no” to anger, we live into God’s grace where we can think of our enemies as our friends.

Saying ‘No’ to the World, Heals Us for God

Both anger and worry are key players in today’s world. Anger at people with different beliefs than us is tied into
the fear that those differences will hurt us. The world wants us to believe that the world wants us to be
separated, to be on our own. But God says “no” to this.

When the world was dark, chaotic, and void, God said “no” when he said, “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:3). When
the world was stuck in sin God said “no” because, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten
son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). God says “no” to the
world and gives us the same chance that we may be healed to be with God.

(Read Eccl. 12:12-14)

At the end of the day, we are left with option to say “yes” to God or the world and in turn we say “no” to the
other. When you say “yes” to God you are saying “no” to anger and worry and “yes” to relationship and
presence. What could be better than relationship and presence with the Creator who loves us and saves us from
bitterness and wrath, from fear and control.

In the late 1400’s there was man by the name of Thomas More, who went on to be a person of great influence.
He was the counselor of Henry VIII. The friend of the prominent writer Erasmus, but more than that he was
man who embodied what it meant to say “no” to the world and “yes” to God.

More enjoyed life, he took part in celebrations, but he did not put cosmic importance to them. He did not put
importance to his job, who he served, or how he had fun. His heart was all for God. In his meditations the main
thing he said that stands out is to “Gladly be thinking of God.” How many of us can say we are gladly thinking
of God daily? How many of us think about God at all on a daily basis? Sure, we may think about God when we
are here together, or on a Wednesday night, but is it daily? Is it at work? Is it at school?

The world is a challenging place that we need to take seriously. Distractions come in all shapes and sizes, that
are not inherently bad but can keep us from thinking about God. Sometimes they pile up and before you know it
our concern is more focused on the world than on God. When we say “no” to the world, we are choosing to
focus on God instead. We find time to think of God, to be with God. No matter what the world offers God
comes first.
God is telling us it is not about what we know or read, it is not about how we engage, it is about seeking Him
first. Do we do the things we do because it lines up with who God is? Is it because God is walking with us in it?
Or is it because it is the latest trend? When we say “no” to the world we are not following the trends and
wisdom it offers, we are following God.

Conclusion

Ecclesiastes is a book that clears out everything the world tells us about religion and God. It bathes and cleanses
us from false ideas about religion, wisdom, and faith. It frees us to look not at buildings and institutions but at
God. It is a reminder that we are denying ourselves, taking up our crosses, and following Jesus to the very end.
No matter the wisdom, no matter the knowledge, the worry, the feeling, whatever it is God, calls us to
remember he is first, he has healed us from our worry, and our anger. He has healed us from our sin. God has
said “no” to the world, by saving the world and loving it. May we go and do likewise.
3G Ministers in a 5G World
Hearty ministers minister by grace and grit unto glory.

SCRIPTURE:
 2 Corinthians 4

Introduction

I’m guessing that most of you probably own one of these (holding up a cell phone). It might even be fair to say that some
of you are owned by one of these.
You can relax. I’m not about to go off on a rant against our overdependence on modern technology, although it wouldn’t
be a bad thing if I did. Nor am I showing you my phone as a no-so-subtle cue to you to turn off yours, though that’s not a
bad idea either.

Maybe you’re thinking I have a new phone and want to show it off. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I’m not one
of those techies who rushes out to buy the latest gadget to fall from Apple’s tree. This is not an iPhone. In fact, it’s one of
the cheapest phones on the market. It came with no plan. I get my minutes from one of those scratch-off cards they sell
down at Kroger’s grocery store. I suppose all of that makes me something of a relic, a throwback, “one of  those people.”
And that’s all fine by me.
The reason I’m showing you my phone is because I’ve noticed that where the tiny icon at the top of my home screen used
to say 3G, it now says 4G. I realize that still leaves me 1G behind, according to that sweet young lady on all those TV
commercials. Nevertheless, I now have an extra G in this new phone that I didn’t have in the old one. It’s there to boost
my phone’s processing speed and to reduce my risk of dropped calls.

Dropped calls. According to studies by the Alban Institute and Fuller Seminary awhile back, 50% of ministers drop out of
ministry within the first five years, and many never go back to church again. Dropped calls. A Duke University study once
found that 85% of seminary graduates entering the ministry leave within five years, and 90% of all pastors will not stay to
retirement. Dropped calls.
As I understand it, the main reason that cell phones drop calls is because of a weak signal. They get too far away from the
nearest tower. Whenever any of us begin drifting away from God, heaven’s signal gets weaker and weaker. Soon, we
can’t hear God at all, resulting in, you guessed it, dropped calls.

I answered the call to preach just two months shy of my sixteenth birthday and began pastoring my first church at the age
of twenty-four. I pastored two churches for a total of roughly six years before I felt the Lord calling me to return to school
and begin a new path of ministry. Since then, I’ve served for twelve years as a juvenile correctional facility’s chaplain and
taught ministers-in-training at a couple of small colleges.

A couple months ago in a denominational magazine there was an article by a pastor who was quite upset over the number
of ordained ministers in his denomination who weren’t pastoring a church, despite the fact there were hundreds of
churches in his denomination needing a pastor. He wondered if his denomination’s ordaining councils hadn’t grown lax in
their duties for having ordained all those people or if those ministers without pastorates hadn’t dropped their call. He
didn’t seem to realize that not all called ministers are called to pastor a church. He should’ve known better.

From the church’s start there has been a lot of confusion over what it means to be a minister. Many a minister has suffered
terribly because of that confusion, the apostle Paul chief among them.

Over in Corinth where Paul started a church during his second missionary journey, people treated good orators like we
treat rock stars and world-class athletes today. By virtue of being a preacher, Paul was judged by the Corinthians just as if
he was any other orator. Their judgment of him was generally unkind, even among some of the people in that church he
started. “He lacks presence,” they said (2 Cor. 10:10). “Not much of a speaker either” (11:6). “Such a lowly sort. His
humility reminds me of those flatterers who’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, who are so self-deprecating, ‘Yes, sir;
whatever you say, sir’ people, while it’s really all just an act. A show they put on to their own advantage” (11:7). “Why,
he wouldn’t even accept my patronage! Told me that he wouldn’t take my money because he was afraid, I’d get the wrong
idea” (1 Cor. 4:9-12)!

It didn’t help matters any that there was a group of celebrity preachers who’d blown into town since Paul had left. “Super-
apostles,” he calls them in 2 Corinthians 12:5. Kryptonian Christians. Bold, strong, flashy sorts of preachers, like you
might see on cable TV. They weren’t shy about putting their hand out (2:17) or raising it to slap somebody’s face when
they thought they needed it (11:20). They had charisma! They had machismo! Paul? Not so much.

Bigger, louder, faster. In terms of today’s technology, they were 5G ministers. That’s what the Corinthians respected.
That’s what they craved! Who was Paul? Nobody! Nobody but a 3G minister in a 5G world. It was all enough, it is
enough, to make a preacher want to cuss. Or quit. And many a minister has done both. But what about Paul? He wrote,
“Having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.” He wrote it twice, perhaps as much for his sake as for
his readers’ sake. In 2 Corinthians 4:1 and 16: “We do not lose heart.”

There used to be a professional wrestler years ago who went by the name Ox Baker. His finishing move was the Heart
Punch, that he sometimes called the “hurt punch.” All it took from Ox was one punch to the heart, and it was lights out.
It’s like that sometimes in ministry. One great blow, and it’s lights out.

Back when I was in seminary, one of my professors told of a student who’d passed that way years earlier. I want to think
he said that the student served as a pastor while making his way through school. Regardless, his wife stood dutifully
beside him through it all, until the night he graduated. It was then that she told him she was filing for a divorce. One
punch. Lights out.

But that’s not how it goes for most people who end up leaving the ministry. It’s not one Ox Baker-sized punch to the heart
but a constant barrage of little jabs, things they overhear, never sure whether they were meant to hear them or not. “Have
you heard any of So-and-So’s sermons on YouTube yet? That person can really preach!” “Remember what a good pastor
So-and-So was when they were here?” “Now don’t get me wrong. Brother Saul is a good man but just not much of a
minister.” Jab, jab. Tap, tap.

But says Paul, despite it all, “We do not lose heart.” Why not? Who wouldn’t?! Well, let’s let Paul tell us.

(Read 2 Cor. 4:1-6)

We Have this Ministry by God’s Mercy. We Are Ambassadors of His GRACE.

No man or woman deserves to be a minister of the gospel, least of all, Paul. You will remember that he was the one who
looked after the coats while their owners picked up rocks to stone Stephen, one of the church’s first deacons, making him
her first martyr. He later acquired papers authorizing him to track down Christians for trial and, if convicted, punishment.
Paul was a real-to-life, threat-breathing, death-dealing dragon, intent on destroying Christ’s followers wherever they
might be found. But it was on his fatal march to Damascus that he saw the light, met the Lord, and was redirected for life.

Every minister has his or her own Damascus Road story. Some, like Paul’s, are dramatic. Others, like mine, are
unimpressive. Either way, the effects of those encounters are undeserved.

Each and every one of us is a minister only by God’s great mercy.

When a minister forgets that, when our memory of the grace-based nature of ministry starts to fade, our resolve naturally
melts. We become remiss in the conducting of our duties. When we forget that ministry is  given as a trust for stewarding,
we’re more inclined to take certain liberties we ought not take.
Some of those 5G ministers over in Corinth that upset Paul had already taken some of those liberties. Perhaps Paul had
earlier felt the pull of those liberties himself before finally resolving not to take them.
For one thing, Paul was resolved not to mess with the message. Creativity is one thing. It’s good to be creative in the
proclamation of the gospel. It may not be a sin to bore people with God’s Word, but it should be! Creativity is a good
thing, a desirable thing; cunning is not.

Cunning is deception. It’s what the Serpent practiced in the Garden of Eden, according to 2 Corinthians 11:3, there
translated “subtility.” The Serpent didn’t come right out and call God a liar. He was subtle; he implied it. Often, it’s not
what we say but what we imply by saying nothing at all that communicates the wrong message. Holding back when we
should speak up is a way of hiding the truth, like putting a candle under a bucket.

Paul resolved to keep his communication “open” and free from “tamper[ing].” The only time that word “tamper” appears
in all of the New Testament is here. Outside the Bible, tampering was said to be what happened when merchants diluted
their wine with water. The temptation to water down God’s Word has always been a strong one. “Why would anyone
want to do that?” you might wonder. Well, when you’re not seeing the results, you’d hoped for, it’s natural to question
whether the message isn’t the problem.

“It’s not,” says Paul. “The problem isn’t the message. The problem is the blinded minds of those hearing the message.
Satan has blinded them to the truth. They grope in darkness.” Messing with the message won’t make them see it any more
clearly.

But when the message isn’t being heard, we feel like we’re not being heard. Our egos get bruised. When that happens,
we’re forgetting that the message isn’t ours nor is it about us. The message is “Jesus Christ is Lord.” God’s glory is found
in fullest bloom in Christ’s face. The message we’re to proclaim in word and deed is just that—Jesus is Lord. It’s not
about us but him. Neither our secretiveness nor self-promotion will serve his cause.

Just be warned. People who live in darkness and love the darkness will be quick to holler, “Get that light out of my eyes!”
They may even throw things at you, like they did at Stephen. That’s to be expected. It’s how most of us naturally reacted
when we were first exposed to the gospel’s light, to Jesus’ lordship. It’s how Paul reacted at first, until he finally gave
himself to the Lord of light.

That’s why we mustn’t mess with the message. The same message of God’s glory in Christ that enlightened and saved us
is the message that will enlighten and save them. It’s all of grace! We have this ministry by God’s mercy. We are
ambassadors of his grace. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. Quite the contrary!

(Read 2 Cor. 4:7-12)

We Have this Treasure in Jars of Clay. Meaning, GRIT Is Required.

Angela Duckworth defines “grit” in her best-selling book by that same title as “passion and sustained persistence applied
toward long-term achievement, with no particular concern for rewards or recognition along the way.” No, you won’t find
the word “grit” in those verses we just read, but it’s there. How else does one endure afflictions without being crushed,
perplexities without being driven to despair, or persecution without feeling forsaken? How does one get to their feet for
the hundredth time after being knocked down ninety-nine? Grit! Or, better yet, grace-fed grit.

Grit is one-part tenacity and two parts resilience. Ministers must have the tenacity of a bulldog and the resilience of a
dandelion. Ministry demands resilience because the Devil plays dirty. He’s notorious for chop blocks and blind side
blitzes. He’s a cheap shot artist—always hitting below the belt and behind the head.

As much as we ministers need it, grit is something woefully lacking today, and not only among our young people. I once
had a middle-aged co-worker to whom I emailed a handful of requests for several small projects. I sent him one email
after the other, each describing a different task and how to perform it. Every one of those tasks fell within his job
description, and my ability to do my job depended on him doing his. I intended for my requests to stack up in his inbox
and for him to work through them one at a time, deleting them as he completed one after the other. Instead, when I went
back later to check up on his progress, he told me, “I haven’t done any of them. I felt like you were dumping on me. So, I
just sat down.” I was dumbfounded, shocked beyond words! People of his generation would’ve said he was being a flake.

The Apostle Paul was no flake. The hardships he endured for the cause of Christ fill not one list in 2 Corinthians but four.
Besides the list here in 4:8-12, there are three more. Hang on tight because this ride is about to get bumpy.

(Read 2 Cor. 1:8-9a; 6:3-5, 8b-10; and 11:23-29)

Paul was one gritty man. What made him that way? What does he say in 4:7? “We have this treasure [this enlightening
ministry of the gospel by God’s grace] in jars of clay [fragile, relatively unattractive vessels], to show that the surpassing
power belongs to God and not to us.” Paul’s grit was directly related to God’s grace.

It has been my experience that God’s grace will make you gritty as you follow him faithfully. Each storm weathered by
his grace prepares you for the next. By sustaining fragile, frazzled you through your suffering, God demonstrates his
power. Or, to put it another way, it’s like the Lord told Paul after refusing three times to remove his thorn in the flesh:
“My strength is made perfect in [your] weakness” (12:8). We are not Christ’s servants in spite of our weakness and
suffering but because of his power manifesting itself in our weakness and suffering.

Authentic ministry requires fragility and vulnerability. Celebrity? Not so much. You can be a Christian celebrity, a super
apostle as Paul calls them, from a position of strength and self-sufficiency, but it’s through the comfort God gives you in
your weakness and suffering that he equips you to minister to others in their weakness and suffering (1:3-6). It’s A. W.
Tozer who is credited for saying, “Whom God would use greatly, He will hurt deeply.” Suffering isn’t a sign of divine
disappointment but an opportunity for divine intervention and engagement.

Those 5G ministers in Corinth didn’t get that. They saw Paul’s weakness and suffering as proof positive that he wasn’t a
true apostle. Paul, on the other hand, saw it as proof positive that he was. Just as God’s resurrection power was made fully
manifest only after Christ’s death, it manifested itself in Paul’s daily dance with physical death and his daily dying to self
(Gal. 2:20). In those same ways Christ’s power and life manifest themselves through us jars of clay today.

Simply put, God’s grace comes with a side of grit. No substitutions allowed. Trying to separate grace from grit would be
akin to ordering an Arnold Palmer drink without the lemonade. Expecting grace without grit is like ordering shrimp and
grits, a Southern delicacy, without the grits. It isn’t the same dish. James says something similar when he writes, “Faith
without works is dead.” Faith produces works. Grace makes us gritty. Paul did not lose heart because his ministry was by
grace and grit unto glory.

(Read 2 Cor. 4:13-18.)

We Have Awaiting Us an Eternal Weight of GLORY.

If Angela Duckworth’s definition is sound, if grit is “passion and sustained persistence applied toward long-term
achievement, with no particular concern for rewards or recognition along the way,” then according to Paul, glory is the
final achievement. Glory is the goal. First, there is the glorification that we will experience as faithful followers of Jesus,
ministers of his grace, when we step out of time and into eternity.

You do believe in heaven, don’t you? Have you ever had a conversation to go something like this?

THEM: “How are you doing today?”

YOU: “I’m making it, I guess. It’s just this arthritis. Every morning I have a hard time getting out of bed because of this
arthritis in my back.”

THEM: “Well, look at it this way. It’s better than the alternative.”
Hold on a sec! When I die, I’m going to enter Jesus’ presence in a new body. How exactly is living here with arthritis in
my back better than living pain-free with Jesus? Oh, I get what they mean, and I appreciate that they’re trying to make me
feel better. But to say life before death is better for the Christian simply isn’t true. For the unsaved person? Absolutely!
This world is the only heaven that lost people will ever know. (Can you imagine that? This old, dysfunctional world being
as close as you’ll ever get to heaven?! What a miserable thought!) But that’s not true for the faithful follower of Jesus, and
Paul says a great deal about that in 2 Corinthian 5.

Glory is the goal. First, the glorification of the Christ-follower. Second, the glorification of those who receive our message
of grace. On your mind’s music player, you can now cue the music to “Thank You for Giving to the Lord.” That song gets
to me every time I hear it. Just to think that there will be grateful people in heaven because God used me to minister to
them in such a way that the light of the gospel finally broke through into their darkened minds! Amazing! And they will
be thankful for eternity, just like I’m thankful for Everett Gentry, who drove me to church every Sunday morning for
years, and for his wife Eva, who walked with me to the altar when I asked Jesus to save me. Everett wasn’t a preacher. I
don’t know what he did for a living. Eva was a homemaker. But to me, they were ministers of God’s mercy.

Finally, there’s the ultimate object of all that thanksgiving, all that glory—God himself. Deep within us all is the desire to
express love and appreciation. It’s hardwired into us. If you don’t believe me, go visit the pier at Mallory Square in Key
West, Florida around sunset. Tourists line the railing there each day and watch reverently as the sun sinks silently into the
western horizon. In its fading rays a spontaneous response follows—clapping! They may not realize it, but those folks are
clapping for God. They’re giving him glory for his handiwork. When we minister faithfully according to God’s great
mercy, whatever the results may be, the glory is ultimately his alone.

Conclusion

If you’re a follower of Jesus, you’re a called minister of his grace. Don’t make that out to be something it isn’t, something
big, flashy, and loud, like those 5G super-apostles in Corinth did.
Stay the course. No matter what may come, don’t lose heart. Don’t drop your call. By grace and grit fulfill your calling
unto glory.
You may be thinking, “That’s good advice for a pastor, I suppose, but I’m no minister.”
Come on now. Surely, you know better than that!
A Tale of Two Trees
Are you living your life according to the Judas tree or the Jesus tree?

SCRIPTURE:
 Matthew 27:1-5

Introduction
This is the highest of holy days for the Christian church. This is the day where not only do we remember that
Jesus died and he was buried, but on the third day he walked out of the tomb and that makes all the difference in
the world. That’s why we’re here. God has drawn near and if we want to know him, we can draw near to him.

(Read Matthew 27:1-5)

This is God’s Word. May it always fill our minds, flow from our lips, and find a home in our very hearts.

Who Is Judas?

Judas was chosen by Jesus. When Jesus was putting together his inner circle, when he stayed up all night
praying, asking the Father who should the twelve be, Judas was amongst those original disciples.

Judas was trusted by Jesus. As they traveled around, preaching the good news that the kingdom of heaven has
arrived, it was Judas that was elected to be treasurer; he’s the one who watched after the money.

Judas was loved by Jesus. When Jesus looked at Judas, he saw somebody that he knit together in his mother’s
womb, somebody that he knew the number of hairs on his head, and he had designs and plans for his life.

Yet, despite all of that, that he was chosen by, loved by, trusted by Jesus, Judas betrayed Jesus. Oh, he could
have had one of those names that will go down in history and everybody would think about naming their son
after him. Think about the other disciples. We name our sons Matthew, Mark, John, or Andrew. Their names
are good names. So was Judas’ name. Do you know what Judas means? "Praise be to God." Such a good name
that we would want to give to one of our children. But nobody names their child Judas. Because Judas betrayed
Jesus.

How is that possible? How do you spend three years with Jesus? How do you meet with him face-to-face? How
do you hear with your own ears him teach? How do you see and witness the miracles and then after all of that
turn around and betray Jesus? How does that happen? Why, Judas? Why would Judas betray Jesus?

Why Did Judas Betray Jesus?

Well, the obvious answer is Satan. Satan had a role in this. We’re told this in John 13. It says, “As soon as Judas
took the breath, Satan entered him.” Satan was at work in the betrayal and crucifixion of Jesus. We have to
factor that in.

But Satan only has as much power as we give him. Satan preys upon our weaknesses, Satan looks for
opportunity and the advantages that we give him. So, while Satan was involved, there must have been
something about Judas that opened the door and allowed for him to be susceptible to the wiles of the enemy.
So Satan was involved, but what else? Why did Judas betray Jesus? Greed.

Greed is one of these doorway sins that when you commit greed it opens the door for a whole number of things
to come into your life. Do you remember that time when Jesus' feet were being anointed with expensive
perfume? It was Judas who said, "What a waste of money, we could have spent that money on the poor." And
what does it say in Scripture about Judas? “He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he
was a thief.” As the keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. Greed was a part
of his life. So when they offered him thirty pieces of silver, that’s like eight months’ worth of wages. He saw
that and he thought, That’s the perfect price for me to betray Jesus.
Satan was involved, greed was involved. What about disappointment? Ever been disappointed with God? Ever
look at your life and think, I’ve been following all the rules, I’ve been doing the right things, so how come
things aren’t working out the way I want them to? Ever have a moment where you got on your knees and you
prayed? You begged God: Would you just give me this one thing, but then you were met with the silence of
heaven. Ever have a moment where you’re there at the bedside of a loved one, watching them suffer, and think
to yourself, What kind of God allows this? Ever been disappointed with God?
Then maybe you can identify with Judas. Because not only did Jesus choose Judas, Judas chose Jesus. He gave
up everything to follow him for three years. Judas probably thought, This is the guy, and if I just prop him up, if
I just give everything I can to him, he will be the one who will solve all of my problems, all the problems of the
world. He’s the Messiah, he’ll be the One who will bring victory and conquer.

Yet what does Jesus do? He starts talking about suffering, dying, and sacrifice, and Judas didn’t sign up for that.
So maybe Judas betrayed Jesus because he felt like Jesus betrayed him.

Whatever the case, what we do know is this. One night Judas walked into a garden. He found Jesus who had
just sweat drops of blood. Judas kissed him on the cheek. The signal has been given. The soldiers rush in. They
arrest Jesus, they bind him, they take him off, they punch him in his blindfolded face, they flog his back, and he
is now guilty as charged.

And it’s just a few hours after that that we read verses 3 through 4. “When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw
that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief
priests and the elders. 'I have sinned,' he said, 'for I have betrayed innocent blood.' 'What is that to us?' they
replied. 'That’s your responsibility.'"
Judas Felt Remorse

Remorse. Remorse. Judas felt remorse. There was this moment where he saw everything that was happening
and what he caused, and something seismic began to shake deep down inside.

But remorse is different than repentance. Repentance is a 180 and instead of choosing your way you choose the
way of God. That’s repentance.

Judas didn’t repent, but had deep remorse. It’s more like a 90-degree turn. He turns this way—"I can’t believe
it, I regret, maybe I could fix this, maybe I could unravel what I started." He goes and he gets the 30 pieces of
silver, takes it back to those that paid him. Here, you take this back, we rip up the contract, everything is going
to be alright. They’re like, No. They said to him: “This is your responsibility.” Feel the weight of those words.
Judas, everything happening to Jesus right now, the torture he is going through and his crucifixion, that is on
you, that is on your shoulders. You did this. And Judas takes that, I made my bed, now I need to lie in it. And so
he’s like, I’ll pay the price. I’ll pay the price. So Judas goes out and he finds a tree, and verse 5 says, “He hung
himself.”

What If Judas Waited Three Days?

Oh, if Judas just would have waited. Judas, if you just would have waited three days, because as you were
finding your tree, Jesus was carrying his tree. Judas, if you just would have waited, as you were climbing out on
your branch, Jesus was falling beneath the weight of the cross and he was lying back, pierced for our
transgressions, bruised for our iniquities. By his stripes we are healed. Judas, as your body was decomposing on
the third day, Jesus’ body was recomposing at a cellular level. He was being regenerated and reengineered, and
the Holy Spirit resuscitated him and brought him back to life. And on the third day, Jesus walked out of the
grave. Judas, if you just would have waited three days.

A Mission of Restoration

The resurrection makes all the difference. Do you remember what Jesus did after be rose from the dead? He
went on a mission of restoration. Judas was not the only one who betrayed Jesus. All of those disciples turned
their back on Jesus and Jesus is all about grace—the incredible grace of God.

Grace means that God loves you, and there is nothing you can do about it. Grace means that you get not just a
second chance but a third, fourth, and so on. How many chances do you need? Grace means God’s going to
give it to you.

So what does Jesus do? He begins seeking, hunting down all of those disciples who betrayed him and left him
by himself. He finds most of them huddled in the Upper Room in fear. He appears in the room, "Peace be with
you," Jesus says. "Thomas is not here, I’ll come back again." "Thomas, peace be with you, see where the nails
were and where the spear went in my side. Now you can believe. Peter, you denied me not once, not twice, but
three times, so I’m going to spend some extra time with you," Jesus says. "Do you love me, do you love me, do
you love me?" And He restored each one of them.

So when you see Jesus doing that, you have to think that if Judas just would have waited, Jesus would have
found him too. Peter betrayed him three times; Judas, 30 pieces of silver. I think Jesus would have said to Judas
30 times, "Do you love me, do you love me, do you love me, do you love me." By the time Jesus got to 30,
Judas would have been living out his name,
Praise be to God, I love you, I love you, I love you." If he had just waited three days.

A Tale of Two Trees

A tale of two trees. The Judas tree, the Jesus tree. Which tree do you choose? The Judas tree, that is an attractive
option. The idea that somehow we can clean up our own messes, that when we break something we can fix it
ourselves. There is something attractive about maybe I can just take care of this myself. I can do it myself.
That’s the Judas tree.

Reminds me of a story I heard a couple of weeks ago about Dr. Leonid Rogozov. He was assigned to
Antarctica, that’s the South Pole. He flew all the way to the South Pole, got there, a small, little community. He
was the only doctor there so when he became sick and he wasn’t getting better, he self-diagnosed himself. He
had appendicitis. He was within days of his appendix bursting. What do you do when you’re snowed in, you
can’t get out of the South Pole, and you’re the only doctor there? He decided to operate on himself.

He put together his own makeshift medical team. Got the meteorologist—you’re going to hold the clamps. Got
the driver—you’re going to hold the mirror for me. And he put them together. He even taught them CPR in case
he started to go out, they could bring him back to life so he could finish the surgery.

So on that day the doctor was also the patient, and he through weakness, through fever, two hours of navigating
through the incision, found it, removed it, stitched himself back up, and guess what? He survived.
You hear a story like that and you can’t help but respect the courage to admire the incredible strength that that
would take. There’s even a little bit of inspiration that happens, you hear about a guy like that: He had that kind
of problem and he fixed it himself? Well, if he could do that, well, then surely I can fix my problems. We get
lulled into this idea: If I’m just strong enough, if I’m just courageous enough, I can deal with the problems in
my life.

No, we can’t. Because our problem is deeper than we ever imagined. When we realize that our problem is sin
and that sin has been downloaded onto the hard drive of every single one of our hearts, and we can’t get in there
and we can’t get it out. No matter what we try and do, we can’t remove it. We cannot do our own soul surgery.
There is only one great physician; he’s the only One qualified to deal with what’s going on with us.

So we must reject the Judas way of life. I can do it myself, do it yourself. No, we must find the tree that says,
"Done for you." That’s the cross, the Jesus tree.

Look at the Colossians 2:13-15. Here you have the apostle Paul, and he is explaining all the things that Jesus did
for us on the cross.

(Read Colossians 2:13-15)

Do you see all the things done for you by Jesus on the cross? We were dead but he has made us alive. We have
been forgiven. Our debts have been canceled, taken away, triumphed over on the cross. Done for you. That’s
the Jesus tree.

If you go downtown Denver there is a judicial center. You have this tall building that’s the jail and right next to
it you have the courthouse. If you look at the name on the courthouse, it is the Lindsey-Flanigan Courthouse.
That first name Lindsey, Ben Lindsey. He became a judge in Denver in 1921, and as he began to serve as a
judge, he noticed that there was something extremely wrong with our court system in Denver—that you had
adults, children, and youth all in the same system. The same laws for adults were being used for children, the
same jails for adults were also being used for youth. He was like, "This has got to be fixed." So Judge Ben
Lindsey pioneered juvenile justice in Denver, and it became a model for all the United States.

For 25 years, he became known as the kids’ judge. Different way of dealing with youth. After 25 years of that,
you can imagine that he would have had a large set of files. 25 years’ worth of files and every file had
somebody’s name, and inside the file had the crime they committed. And now he was leaving Denver. What
would happen if somebody got ahold of those files. These youth are now grown up, they have families, they
have jobs, and if somebody got ahold of them, they could use them against those people.

Can you imagine if your worst moment from your youth was held against you and printed in the paper. He’s
said, "I can’t let this happen." So he took the files. They didn’t have shredders in those days, so he just began to
rip them up and tear them up into as small of pieces as possible. Then he put them all in a box, all these files,
and he drove just west of Denver—13th and Umatilla—invited the press to come out, and he threw all the files
into a ditch. And as he poured them there, they took the pictures as he set it all on fire. He called it the shame
bonfire, where he took the shame, regrets, and the past memories of all these people and he burned them up so
there would be no record of what they had done. That’s the Jesus tree. That’s what Jesus has done.

When it says that he has canceled everything we have done, that means everything. My worst moment, your
worst moment, as far as the east is from the west, will be remembered no more. That’s the Jesus tree.

Conclusion
So, we have two trees. The Jesus tree, the Judas tree. Which one do you choose? Tree of remorse, tree of
repentance? Tree of death, tree of life? For those who want grace, for those who want a new beginning, for
those who want a second, third, or fourth chance, there is only one choice, and that choice is Jesus.

And if you want to start over, and if you want him to bring that mission of restoration to you, he desires to do
that. But not only does he desire it, he is capable of meeting with you just like he met with those early disciples
who denied him.

The reason why, if you have heard, he is risen, he is risen indeed.

Keyholders
What will you do with the key Christ has given you?
SCRIPTURE:
 Ephesians 2
 Mark 16:15

Introduction

Across from the residence where I lived in college stood a mysterious building known as Scroll and Key. This
great stone-clad mausoleum was the site of one of Yale University's renowned secret societies. To become a
member of Scroll and Key—or Skull and Bones, or other circles like them—was an unusual distinction. Each
society accepted only about 15 college seniors at a time, and they accepted only the cream of the university's
leadership: the captains of the sports teams, the presidents of the major organizations, the most luminous artists,
and intellectuals on campus.

Twice weekly, members of these societies would slip inside one of these mausoleums under cover of darkness.
They would enter a lavishly furnished space of historic rooms and enjoy a range of rare dining, education, and
relationship-building experiences. If you were a member, you would form friendships of deep intimacy and
commitment. You'd take part in presentations and briefings that expanded your heart and enriched your mind.
You would sit at table with a cadre of alumni that included U.S. Presidents, cabinet officers, and captains of
industry across the planet. The mentoring you would receive during your time there, and the network and
opportunities you'd enjoy ever afterwards, could be life-altering.

But being a member brought one more privilege—maybe the greatest of all. It was you who got to choose the
next individuals to be tapped. You were among the ones who got to discern the persons to whom would be
extended this extraordinary experience. You were the keyholder to someone else's future.
Late in my junior year at Yale, I was invited out to dinner by a prominent senior. I thought it a little strange
because I didn't really know him well, and I was curious why he'd bothered to ask me. Stranger still, a string of
others began to spontaneously stop by our table and then sit down to join our conversation. I recognized their
faces. They were some of the leading students on campus. I felt the sweat breaking out as I realized this wasn't
just a dinner. It was an interview. This was one of the top secret societies, considering me for their membership.
I wanted, in the worst way, to be chosen by them. I didn't want to be one of those others who stood on the
outside of those stone temples, always wondering what it would be like to be within. I wanted to be an insider,
and because of my record over the past few years, I felt I had a pretty good chance. The guys around the table
were asking about that—about all the things I'd earned and done and accomplished along the way. And then the
conversation shifted to the place of Christianity in my life.
I recall how tense the faces of the people around the table became. I remember the pit in my stomach as I
realized that if I claimed Christ and his church as my highest allegiance—the place where I rooted my life, a
relationship more important than any other—I might not be chosen by them. I might not get a key. But most of
all, I remember how quickly the conversation ended and the circle melted away when I told them that it was in
Christ I sought to root my identity, my security, my vision for life.

The supreme society

I still think wistfully about that night. Maybe I could have played that interchange differently, and they would
have picked me. Maybe if I'd said things another way or worked harder or achieved more, I'd have been chosen.
Can you understand that feeling? Maybe there's some relationship or opportunity you still pine over. Perhaps
there's some job you didn't get or some team you didn't make. Maybe there's some club or community you wish
you weren't looking at from the outside. Perhaps you wonder, Why couldn't I be part of a family or a pool of
possibilities like that one over there? Maybe I could have if I'd done something differently. A lot of us live our
lives with a wistfulness like that.
But there's something I think about and encourage you to think about when feelings like that arise. This is the
good news. In the most important arena of all, you and I were given the key to everything that truly and finally
matters.

I know that is hard to take in. It's why Paul had to be so blunt when he wrote to the Ephesians, because they
struggled to get it too. To appreciate how good the news is for you, says Paul, first you need to try to grasp the
bad news.
(Read Ephesians 2:1-3)
What Paul is suggesting here is that most of us only ever dimly perceive the true condition we were actually in
before Jesus did what he did. Most of us have very little appreciation for how far outside the big stone
clubhouse we were before Jesus acted. We might have been good students or decent athletes or popular people
on campus. But in terms of truly being God's kind of person—of being qualified on our own merits to be
welcomed into his heavenly household—we weren't even on the list of candidates. There's not a single angel
who ever said, "Oh, look how great and good she/he is. Our society will be so improved by having them. Let's
tap them."

On the contrary, says Paul: "[A]t that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel
and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world" (Eph. 2:12). In
other words, there was this supreme society that did exist. There was a covenantal circle of communion with
God and community with others for which the word "Israel" is a symbol. In the Bible, the word "Israel" or
"kingdom" or "church" stands for this set of remarkable relationships, this amazing table of fellowship, where
those who sit there find help in living into all of the promise of life on this earth and the hope of eternity
beyond.

The bad news is: You and I didn't have the key to it. Our sin excluded us from it. Our ignorance of our
condition and of God made you and me strangers and foreigners to that society. It might as well have been a
locked mausoleum to us—only, ironically, it was the people like you and me on the outside who were actually
dying or dead, and the beings in that society who were becoming fully alive.

"But"—the good news is—"because of his great love for us, God …" (Eph. 2:4). Notice who the important actor
is here and the qualities of his character that account for his action.
(Read Ephesians 2:4b-9)
Let me try to translate this. You and I were standing outside the supreme society. We had no chance of getting
in on our own merits. There was no way for us to break in on our own strength. Some of us didn't even really
want in, because we had no clue what we were missing. But out of his merciful, kind, and gracious love, Jesus
opened the door, came down, and went outside the gate. He found you and me wherever we were in the
darkness. He took us by his nail-pierced hands, offered us the forgiveness he alone earned on the Cross, and he
escorted us up the steps and into the ultimate clubhouse.

He gave us a seat with him in the heavenly realms. He gave us permanent membership in this phenomenal circle
of grace and truth where our hearts will be expanded and our minds enriched. He made us part of an elite global
network of humble servants and a vast company of alumni in heaven, whose passion it is to bring God glory and
enjoy his company forever and ever, amen.
"Consequently," says St. Paul (Eph. 2:19), are you ever going to worry again when some earthly someone or
society finds you unworthy for their company? Are you going to waste your energy trying to prove how good or
good-looking you are? No. Why? Because, like the ancient Gentiles to whom Paul offered assurance …
(Read Ephesians 2:19-22)
Conclusion

Every time we come through the doors of the church building, we are invited to remember this: that we are
members of the supreme society, one aimed not at a greater grab-bag for ourselves but greater glory for our
founder. With membership in this society come some very awesome privileges. You have an elite identity, an
unimpeachable security, a trans-world family, and a sacred power and purpose to your life. But a bit like that
secret society I used to admire back in college, there is one particularly exciting privilege it is easy to forget. As
keyholders of the kingdom, you and I get to decide to whom the keys will be passed on.

You see, out there beyond our doors are many others who haven't yet been tapped for membership in this
society. More than 60 percent of the people in the communities around us are functionally strangers and
foreigners to Christ and his church. They pass by a building like ours and wonder what really goes on behind
those walls. Is it a cult? Is it a club? Are there any people like me there? There are others who were exposed at
some time to some church that really felt to them like a mausoleum or a museum, and they stopped going or
never think of going back. Who is going to help them see what really goes on here?

Out there are children and teenagers, men and women, trying to do life without any reference or relationship to
God. They're rooting their identity in their looks, their likes, or something equally superficial and passing.
They're rooting their security in their health plans and 401(k)s, when the truth is they will die one day and stand
before God. They're rooting their hope for the renewal of their marriage in a self-help book or the revival of our
country in electing a better politician. Who is going to help them discover there's better ground in which to plant
their lives? Who will usher them into a circle where they can find a love that will never fail them, a power that
transforms their vision, their character, and their relationships for the good, and a life beyond the grave?

Let's remember that membership has its privileges, and one of the greatest of them, Jesus said, was to "[g]o into
all the world and preach the gospel to all creation" (Mark 16:15). Jesus gave you and me the key that can open
the door to salvation, to the renewal of precious human life, to the revival of our nation. Could it be time to take
it out of our pocket and use it for the sake of others?

Here are some ideas. This week, tell someone what Christ has done in your life and ask if you can pray about
any needs in theirs. Invite somebody to come to church or your small group with you. Begin thinking about the
role God might have you play in creating more seats for the people flocking to our services or volunteering in
our ministries and outreach. Start praying about how you might help us establish new branches of this church in
some communities around us.

Chances are you are here today and have enjoyed the spiritual blessings you have because someone thought
enough of you to invite you into the supreme society. Here's my question: Who will be around the table in the
future—or forever—because you knew what to do with your key?
Dan Meyer is pastor of Christ Church.us, a nondenominational, multisite church with locations in Oak Brook
and Lombard, Illinois.
The Meaning of 'Metanoia'
With God, there is always something new to learn.
SCRIPTURE:
 Luke 13:1-9

Introduction

Today is a good day. I am beyond excited and honored to be preaching the Word of God this morning. This is
one of my greatest passions in life, and although I've preached many times before, there's nothing quite as
special as preaching in your own home church—with your family. This is the place where God has called me to
serve, and I love it. I love being here in the United States. I love learning from you and your culture. That's
obviously not to say that I don't go through challenges—because I do, even here at church. We have a certain
pastor who insists that Taco Bell is legit Mexican food, and I don't know what to do with that. It's a real
struggle, people.

I'm just kidding—well, not really—but I do experience more difficult cultural clashes that, many times,
challenge me at my core. They challenge my identity and even my faith at times, because believe it or not,
every country has very particular expectations of what Christianity should look like: of what a Christian person
should look like or dress like or speak like, of what a Christian guy should do, what a Christian woman should
do. I've learned to realize that every time I face those challenges, God opens a door for me. He taps on my
shoulder and says, "Hey, don't jump to conclusions too quickly. Don't look at it from your own perspective.
Come to me; bring me into the picture, and I will show you what to do."

That's what I want to talk to you about today: that wonderful yet painful process of being constantly challenged
and transformed by the power of God.

Reconciling 'repentance'

(Read Luke 13:1-9)
Let's take a step back and remember that in this passage, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and he is teaching as
he travels—that's been part of his journey. We are in chapter 13, which means that for a while, he's been
announcing the Good News to the poor, he's been performing miracles, he's been saying that God's kingdom is
at hand and all those great things, and here's a group of people who are saying, "Yes, Jesus, we hear you, but did
you hear about the horrible tragedy that happened in Galilee?" Granted, the text doesn't show the exact question
they asked, but they were either demanding an explanation from Jesus or trying to help him out with a reality
check, and we know that because that's what we all do, don't we?
The moment tragedy hits us, we go, "What? God, why did you allow that? Are you even aware? Do you not see
this tragedy that is overcoming me, my spouse, my family? Do you have anything to say about that?" We all do
that. We do it internally with our own struggles, and we also do it collectively when a major tragedy afflicts a
nation or a society: like a killing in Roseburg, Oregon, or a shooting in San Bernardino, California. These are
events that shake the society, and even if we're not physically harmed by them, they nonetheless affect us. They
make us wonder.
And that's what was happening with these people. They were wrestling with the news headlines of the day:
Pontius Pilate, the political leader who was supposed to keep social order and safety, had killed a group of
Galileans in the temple as they were bringing sacrifices. If you know anything about Pilate, you know that he
was a brutal character; he was the very face of evil, and he had committed a massacre equivalent to the
beheading of innocent people in the hands of ISIS. When we hear of tragedies like these (or any kind of tragedy
for that matter), we tend to have many questions we want to ask God, but we also tend to jump into conclusions
that don't always reflect the heart of God. And that's what Jesus is addressing in this passage.

Look at his response in verse two. He says, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the
other Galileans because they suffered this way?" What Jesus is basically saying is: "Really? Is that what you
think? That those who died somehow deserved it?" We can't blame these people because they were simply
following their own Jewish tradition and ideology and theology of suffering, which said that if something bad
happened to you, it surely had to do with a sin you had committed.

For some of us, this may seem like an ancient way of thinking, but it's very much alive in us— this message is
for us because the flip side of that thinking is that if tragedy is a reflection of one sin, then the absence of
tragedy is the reflection of some kind of piety or self-righteousness. And you know what that is? That is the
model of salvation based on works. That's what it is: a model of salvation, a way of doing life where we are the
masters of our own faith.

Jesus knows that. He knows where their minds are going, so he adds a very clear statement in verse three that
says: "I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish." In other words, he is saying to them, "You
think your self-righteousness is going to keep you safe. I tell you no." Because no matter how righteous you
maybe, you still live in a world tainted by sin, and tragedy can hit you anytime—like the 18 he refers to in verse
four. They died because a tower fell on them. In this example, there is no one to blame; it was more like a
"natural cause." He could have used another example: disease, a car accident, a cancer, you name it. Yet the
answer is the exact same. "I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish" (Luke 13:5).
Now, let me be honest with you. The first time I read this passage, I thought, Whoa, is this what you call "the
Good News"? Repent or perish! That sounds like a threat to me! Doesn't it? He says it twice!
Let me just make a quick parenthesis to tell you about a super basic rule of biblical theology that says if you
want to interpret a passage, however short or obvious it may seem, you need to read it in light of the whole
canon, because that's what makes it biblical: not taking one passage and just going with it as if it weren't in
isolation from the rest of Scripture, not copying a passage and pasting it into our own agenda. We do that, but
biblical theology says, "No, you need to go back to the text. What is the greater narrative saying?" And the
greater narrative says that God is kind, that God is good, that God is merciful. He gives us opportunities; he
forgives us. So how can we reconcile the words of Jesus in this passage with the greater narrative?

The word "repent" is our key word here. I want to invite you to unpack it with me, because this is a pregnant
word that's loaded with meaning. It's actually the key to understanding the whole passage, and, I dare say, the
entire gospel.

The word in the original Greek is metanoia. Meta means "after" or "change," and this word literally means "a
change of mind." It carries this notion of transformation into something new—a new mindset. We need to be
careful with the word "mind" here, because in ancient times, mind and heart were often used
interchangeably. Metanoia, in the biblical sense, really talks about a complete transformation of who we are
into the image of who God is. Richard Trench defined it as "a mighty change of mind, heart, and life that can
only be brought about by the Spirit of God."
Metanoia is a great word, but the bad news is that this word has gotten lost in translation throughout the
centuries, because against this wonderful backdrop of human transformation, the English word we get
is ..."repent." That's just not fair, and you're about to see why.
The doorway to the Gospel
We usually study the words in the original Greek or Hebrew and that's great—we need to do that—but what I
want to do today is to study it in English as well. I want to do that for two reasons: one, I'm a Spanish speaker
and I always need to do that, and two, it's going to show us how language has this power to shape our thoughts
and even our theology. If we do a poor job of choosing a word, we can completely destroy the message we're
trying to send.

I'll never forget an experience I had in seminary when I was part of the student council. We were trying to come
up with an activity we could do at the beach. I quickly said, "I have an idea! Why don't we go to the beach at
night, and light up a big fire bon!" The moment I said that, they all had this weird look on their face. A guy said,
"You mean 'bonfire'?" I said, "No, I mean 'fire-bon,' buddy. You should revise your English because that word
is a no-brainer. Look, when you say 'railroad,' you're talking about a road made out of rails; when you say 'wood
house,' you mean a house made out of wood. So when I say 'fire bon,' I'm talking about a 'bon' made out of
fire!" I was convinced I was right, and you know there's nothing worse than an ignorant person with confidence
—please don't be one.
Anyway, the story didn't end there. After they kept insisting it was 'bonfire,' I said, "Okay, whatevs, 'bonfire'—
we can sit around it, sing some worship songs, and then we can pull out the marshmallows, chocolates, and
crackers and boom! We end the night having Smurfs!" Of course, everybody lost it. That day, I learned a big
lesson on the importance of choosing our words carefully. If that's true for our everyday life, how much more is
it true when it comes to studying the Bible, right?

Let's dig into this English word "repentance." What does it really mean? I have a feeling you're not going to like
this.

The word comes from Latin, and it's made out of two words: re (which means "back" or "again")
and penitentia (which literally means "penance," and the root word for "penance" is "pain" and "sorrow"). I told
you: You were not going to like this. In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary defines it as "the action of feeling
or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong."
Basically, "repentance," in its literal sense, says that our job is to look back at what we've done and feel real bad
about it. Granted, some people may need a little bit of that before experiencing metanoia. But the word has a
very strong negative connotation; it evokes regret and contrition of the heart, and then it ends there in regret.
You know, when I first became a Christian and I began to read about all the amazing women the Bible talks
about, I so desperately wanted to identify with them: women like Mary and Hannah and Deborah, courageous
women who said "yes" to God and were brave enough to walk into the promises and gifting God had for them. I
wanted to see myself in them. But when I looked at my life, if I was honest with myself, I knew that I was more
like a Jacob. I was a cheater. I cheated in school, I cheated when I played games, and I also cheated on people.
Many times. That's who I was. And every time I cheated on someone, I genuinely regretted it; let's just say I
"repented," because I felt real bad for what I'd done. But you know what? That's as far as I went, because soon
enough I'd find myself doing it all over again. My life was just a vicious cycle of repenting and repenting and
repenting without ever getting anywhere.

Are you familiar with that cycle? We all have an area in our lives where we experience those vicious cycles. For
some it may be cheating or lying to people; for others, it may be watching porn, or stealing, or remaining in a
relationship you know is no bueno. Maybe it's a self-deprecating habit you have or a yo-yo diet that keeps you
regretting every bite of food you have. It could be anything, really, and even though you know you shouldn't do
it, you just end up doing it over and over again. Do you know why that is? Because regret cannot take you very
far—but metanoia can.
You see, the word "repentance" forces you to look back and beat yourself up for what you've done,
but metanoia invites you to look at the future and the promises God has for you. When we understand that, we
realize that Jesus' words are not words of condemnation, but words of invitation into a new life. When he was
talking to the people in the passage, he was not saying, "Do this or else I'll throw you off the cliff." He was
saying, "You're already down there, and I don't care if you're a righteous person or a sinner: You cannot have
life unless you turn to me. I am the way, I am the truth, and I am the light, and no one comes to the Father
except through me." Now, that sounds more like good news doesn't it?
What Jesus was saying was this: "I didn't come here just to give you explanations of what happens around you.
I'm here to tell you how transformation can happen within you, and once you experience that, your entire
worldview will change—and suddenly you'll realize the tragedies you see around the world are not proof I don't
exist, but the very evidence of how much you need me. But first, you need to experience change."

You see, metanoia is our doorway to the gospel. E very time Jesus spoke about salvation and the coming of
God's kingdom, he talked about metanoia as a pre-condition for it. In Matthew 4:17, when Jesus began to
preach, he said, "Metanoia [repent], for the kingdom of heaven has come near." In Acts 3:19, Peter said to the
people, "Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out." Even John the Baptist talked about
this: His famous baptism of repentance was really a baptism of metanoia, and Paul mentioned it in Acts
19:4 when he said, "John's baptism was a baptism of metanoia [repentance]. He told the people to believe in the
one coming after him, that is, in Jesus."
Revisiting our traditions

The question that still remains is this one: If "repentance" is such a far cry from the true meaning of metanoia,
how on Earth did we end up with that word in our Bibles? To answer that question, I'm going to give you the
history of how the Bible got translated into English in exactly three minutes, and I'm going to ask you to track
with me because I'm going to do it like Speedy Gonzalez.
In 1380, John Wycliffe translated the Bible into English for the first time, and the word he chose for this
passage was "penance." Now we know that wasn't the best choice, but we can't really blame him because he
wasn't translating from Greek; he was translating from the Vulgate, which was a Latin version of the Bible.

Then in 1530, William Tyndale translated the New Testament and thought, Hmm, how about changing it to
"repent"? (I'm not even going to say anything about that.)
By 1535, Myles Coverdale translated the Bible again and said, "I'm sure we can come up with a better word
than that!" He used the word "amend"—which is great, because it involves this notion of fixing or changing
something for better. At some point, there was hope for English speakers.

Fast-forward to 1539: The Great Bible was published (the only reason it was called the Great Bible was because
the thing was massive), and for some reason, the translators went back to "repent." Don't ask me why, but here
we begin to see a thread.

In 1560, a group of Protestant Reformers published the Geneva Bible—and these guys knew better, so they
went back to "amend." They actually included footnotes and marginal notes in this Bible, and it quickly became
one of the most famous translations in Europe.

However, in 1611, King James of England said "Uh-uh, we are the Anglican Church, and we need our own
Bible." He put together a group of translators, and they went back to "repent." By doing that, they sealed this
linguistic tradition, because as many of you know, the King James Version became the Bible people had to
read; it had been institutionalized by the king. It remained the most influential version for English speakers to
this day, really.
Most of our modern translations continue to follow this thread and use the word "repent": Among them are the
NIV, ESV, NLT, NASB, NKJV, ASV, HCSB, RSV, ISV. You all know them because they are on the list of top
10 Bibles sold in the United States. But there are a few other versions I do need to mention because they either
use the word "change" or "turn," as in turn to God. Those versions are The Message, The Voice, The
International Children's Bible—we should all be reading children's Bibles—and The Common English Bible,
among others.
Now, the point of this timeline is not to decide which word is the correct word, because I don't even think that's
possible. That word metanoia is so rich we need an entire definition to describe it. My point here is to see how
tradition has a way of getting into our bones without us even realizing it. Let me be clear here: I'm not saying
tradition is wrong. All I'm saying is that we should always be open to revisit our traditions and our own ways of
thinking about Jesus or Christianity, because with God, there is always something new to learn.
As Christians, we should always be aware that when it comes to our faith, our primary concern is not being
right or wrong: It's knowing that we are loved by God, and if we miss this part, we miss the whole point of the
gospel. It is because of God's love for us that metanoia is even possible. We shouldn't even have that
opportunity, but in Jesus we do. In the face of our own mistakes and failures, Jesus is the one who shows up to
tell you, "Whatever's happened to you or whatever you've done, I'm still committed to you. I'm still committed
to work with you. I'm still committed to save you. And you know why that is? Because I love you."
Conclusion

Let's look at the parable at the end of our passage.

(Read Luke 13:6-9)
Again, if we read this parable with the mindset of the law, we can very well read a threat here. But if we read it
with the mindset of grace, we can only see the opportunity that we have before us and the tremendous grace
with which Jesus deal with us—because even when we fail at producing good fruit, he intercedes for us and
says, "Don't cut this one down just yet. Leave her alone for one more year, and I'll do my best at providing
fertilizer and the right conditions for her to bear that fruit."

There is a final judgment—there's no way around that one—but today's message is about grace and the
opportunity we must turn our lives around with the power of God's Spirit. The opportunity is now; it may not be
there tomorrow. You can decide right now to come to the arms of Jesus and start anew. Maybe you've given
your life to Jesus before, but somewhere down the road, you lost the way. Today is your chance to recognize
that only Jesus can change your life around. Whatever it is you've done, or whatever's happened to you, it has
all been paid for in the Cross.