PPC POST

  "THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH"

II Samuel 11:1-15

Somebody remarked just the other day that Presbyterians don't preach very often on sin. There is a reason for that. Most of us (preachers included) are too busy committing our own sins to find time to preach against other people's sin.

But this morning I am going to do just that . . . preach on another person's sin. You can relax, because the main character in today's sermon is not anyone in this congregation. The sinner we are examining today is none other than David, King of Israel. But I'm sure as we hear David's story we could substitute the name of any number of today's politicians.

In doing research on sin I came across a clever title: "The Stop Sign on the Corner of Temptation and Sin." In today's story, David came to many stop signs . . . and kept going. II Samuel 11 is a pivotal turning point in the narrative plot of the books of Samuel. We are at the threshold of deep aching psychology, and at the same time we are about to witness the most ruthless abuse of power. We are in the presence of greatness to be sure. Yet for David, and for Israel, there is no return. Innocence is never to be retrieved. From now on the life of David is marked by this one atrocious sin, and all of Israel must live with the consequences of that sin!

This text deals with the hard questions of human desire and human power-desire with all its delight, power with all its potential for death. This story cuts deep into the strange web of foolishness, fear and fidelity that comprises the human makeup. Our young people would define this story as TMI-too much information. For here we learn more than we want to know about David and more than we can bear to understand about ourselves.

II Samuel 11 is the exact point in the narrative when the action shifts from public triumph to personal pathos, from a life of blessing to a life under curse.  As we hear this account of King David each of us must reflect on our own individual uses of power, privilege and freedom. How often in our own lives do we see the big red stop sign on the corner of temptation and sin? Listen now for the word of the Lord (read text).

As our story opens there is still war. The Syrians have been dealt with but the "Ammonite question" is still open. David dispatches Joab and our text says, "David stayed in Jerusalem." These four words change everything. All the terror of war and the confusion of battle are exchanged for another kind of terror and confusion. David, the "Warrior King" is home; David has now ceased to be chieftain, relying on others to do his work. Where is the brave lad who took on the giant? Where is the king requested by Israel who would "go out before us and fight our battles"? Where is he? He is in his palace yielding to his own desires. He sees a beautiful woman and he wants her. He asks her name and his servants report back to David that she is Bathsheba. Her very name hyphenated defines who she is and, more importantly, whose she is. She is the daughter of Elam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite. She has no existence of her own, but is identified by the men to whom she belongs.

But that doesn't stop David . . . he wants her and he is king.  The mention of Uriah (one of David's own men) might have given David pause, but it doesn't. David acts swiftly as he has always done. He is not one to sit and brood; he is a man who has to have his way.

The action is quick. The verbs in the narrative rush as David's passion rushes: he sent, he took, he lay. There is nothing but stark action-no conversation, no hint of caring, of affection, of love-only lust. David doesn't call her by name . . . he doesn't even speak to her. But alas, the woman gets some verbs: she returned home, she conceived, she sent word. In Chapter 11, David is a man in control. He can have whatever he wants, whenever he wants-no restraints, no second thoughts, no reservations, no justification needed. He takes simply because he can. He is the epitome of power!

And the powerful man is put down by three little words: "I am pregnant." (Be sure your sins will find you out.) Poor David, he is not the last man to have his world shattered by those words. The "woman" makes no request or demands. What happens next is all David's doing. Because our text says Bathsheba was "purified of her uncleanness" before she came to David, he had to cover his tracks. He calls Uriah back from battle and encourages him to go home and spend time with his wife. But Uriah, unlike David, can't enjoy any comfort with his fellow soldiers still at war. He sleeps on his doorstep. When David finds out, the plot thickens. He next invites Uriah to the palace, feeds him, gets him drunk and again sends him home to sleep with his wife. But Uriah, an honorable man, spends the night at the king's palace. David has no choice but to send poor Uriah back to battle with a note to Joab to put Uriah on the frontline where he will be killed. Ironically, Uriah carries his own death warrant.

Truly, the wages of sin is death. Only in this story, sin leads to the death of an innocent bystander-Uriah. Our story ends there, but if you continue to read the text you find out David marries Bathsheba and the child she delivers dies. Later, another of David's sons rapes his sister. And still later, David's son Absalom rebels against David and is killed in battle. Tragedy upon tragedy. And the sin, of course, goes uncovered. Bathsheba in all history is referred to as "the wife of Uriah." You know David was an ancestor of Jesus. So listen. Matthew 1 begins: "A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the Son of David, the Son of Abraham . . . ." All the ancestors are listed. Verse 6 reads, "David was father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah's wife." All of David's complicated maneuvers could not cover up a sin that had consequence upon consequence.

Sometimes people will give me some topic and say, "That will preach." Well, today's story needs no preaching. The message is loud and clear. So the next time you find yourself on the corner of temptation and sin-do yourself a favor-pay attention to that big red stop sign. Because the wages of sin is death!

Amen.

"COME TO A QUIET PLACE & GET SOME REST"

Mark 6:30-34,53-56

I am the last person in the world to be preaching this sermon. The person who thinks everyone who is not busy is a "slacker" is now telling you to "Come to a quiet place and get some rest." Actually, I'm not saying that-Jesus is in today's reading from Mark. I have to tell you this is a hard sermon to preach, but an easy one to compose. You've heard that saying "preaching to the choir"-well, today the preacher is preaching to the preacher.

One of the things I love about being a Presbyterian is . . . we make things happen. We see a problem . . . we fix it, because we're "big" on doing. "So, don't just stand there . . . do something!"

In this morning's gospel, Jesus does something. He withdraws. He retreats to a deserted place. It's an interesting move in one of the busiest of the gospels. Mark's gospel is so full of frantic activity, busyness and bustle. One of Mark's favorite words is "immediately." Immediately Jesus went here, immediately he went there, immediately he did this, immediately he did that . . . but here, Jesus withdraws. He and his disciples get away from it all, make a retreat, and take a vacation.

You've seen those bracelets that Christians wear . . . WWJD . . . "What Would Jesus Do?" Well, maybe there are times when Christians should do what Jesus does not do! In our reading, the disciples come to Jesus and report all they have done. "In your name, Lord, we have done all these wonderful things," and then Jesus urges them not to do. He says to the disciples, "Come with me to a quiet place and get some rest."

Sounds good, doesn't it? And yet, some of us never allow for times of rest. It's taken me a long time to realize that the ability to withdraw, to relax, to "let go and let God" is, in fact, an act of faith. You see, never taking a vacation is one way of saying you don't trust God to handle things while you are gone. A person who can never take off from the job is a person who thinks he or she is the only one doing any work.

In a way, there is a subtle action behind our busyness. It's up to us to do right or right won't be done. It's up to us to fix the world . . . or the world stays broken. And no, we didn't make that up all by ourselves. It is part of our culture. Maybe you've seen those bank card advertisements at the airport: "You've got the whole world in your hands-MasterCard." It's part of our church. I saw a church bulletin board that said, "Only you can solve world hunger." Friends, if our God is a God who acts, moves, creates, reigns, delivers, saves and does anything we can imagine, then why do we think the whole world is in our hands?

Is it possible we are paying the price for our busyness by destroying our health, alienating our family and friends and missing all those Kodak moments in life, not because we are greedy (which we are) but because we've lost faith in a living, active God?

Overwork, the inability to take a day off, never to have a vacation, never to be able to let go, to retire, to retreat, to withdraw, implies a lack of trust in a God who keeps creating, who (according to the Psalmist) "neither slumbers nor sleeps" . . . so that we can. Reformed theology teaches that God didn't just create the world and walk off and leave it. God is still creating, still deeply involved with the happenings of this world in which we live.

Someone has said if you want to be closer to God, if you want to know God, then know Jesus. Well, we know Jesus was a worker. He healed, preached, taught, and in today's reading he fed a multitude. But, before he did all this work, he withdrew. He put down what he was doing in order to recover who he was being. What he did was never as important as who he was. God's own son is close enough to God to withdraw simply to be with God.

John Calvin said you can't know God unless you know yourself, and you can't know yourself without knowing God. And I would say you can't know either one if you are always doing, always moving from one task to the next, rushing to get everything done.

Here is an important question to ask yourself: "Do you want to be remembered for what you do or for who you are?" Are you so busy doing that you've forgotten who you are? Do you always have your Blackberry close at hand? Do you take work from the office when you go on vacation? When was your last full day off with no obligations? In the last year have you spent a whole day just reading a novel . . . or taking a nap . . . or simply doing absolutely nothing? Why do we think we always have to be busy?

You may not realize it but you are blessed by being in church this morning. Sunday worship is a blessing, because it is our weekly opportunity to withdraw, to touch base with who we are and who we are created to be. This is us at our best. For one hour a week we have this golden opportunity to relax, to become more focused on who God is and what God is doing now, has done in the past and promises to do in the future. What is the purpose of hearing a sermon? You know what most people say? "The purpose of a sermon is to point out to me what I have done wrong and to help me get motivated to do right." You hear that-I, me, my? Wrong! The point of a good sermon is God . . . not you. The Christian faith is more than a pep rally for our latest program, more than a self-help course in goodness. It is about a God who not only cares, but acts, moves, reaches, creates and is always recreating. And friends, if you let him, God can recreate you. Now I believe God wants each of us to do our part to transform this world, but remember this: God doesn't need you in order to work God's will in the world. Sabbath keeping is important because Sabbath reminds us that we are saved by God's grace, not our good works!

There is such great human need before us that we have to respond. Jesus would want us to do just that. We do what we can in word and deed to embody the Kingdom of God in all that we do and say. And then we sit, and we do nothing but pray. We rest. We withdraw. We remind one another that the world is not in our hands. It's not up to us to make history turn out right. "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof," sings the psalmist.

So don't just do something, stand there, sit there, pray there . . . be there!

Amen.

"A THUMBPRINT ON THE CHALICE"

Luke 22:14-20

I've spent the week in Minneapolis at the General Assembly meeting of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) By now you've probably read about some of the actions that were voted on-a new form of government, policies about Israel, and sex . . . sex always makes the headlines-it's the fine print in the bottom of the story you have to read to really understand what the actions taken mean, but who reads the fine print?

I was there and saw firsthand what was taking place, and while I never completely agree with the decisions of our church members who are called to serve as commissioners, and while I'm called as a Christian first and as a Presbyterian second to love even those people I don't agree with, I have to tell you-I love the Presbyterian church, even though I don't always like all members. And the promises I made when I joined as a member, and when I was ordained as an elder and later when I became a minister of word and sacrament-I still honor those promises, because my hope for this church I love rests not with the members, but with the head of the church, Jesus Christ our Lord.

I'm so glad that we have communion on this Sunday following our General Assembly meeting, for here at our Lord's Table we put aside our individual differences as together we experience the mystery of this sacrament that makes us one. It's a mystery because I'm not sure anyone can define what takes place when a believer partakes of the bread and wine during communion. Frankly, I don't believe we all have a deep religious experience every single time we gather at The Lord's Table. Our response depends on too many different variables: our mood, the weather, our personal history, whether or not we are in our home congregation or we are a visitor in a strange or new church. Each person is different, so each experience of communion is different. Maybe I can't define this experience from an accurate doctrinal point of view, but I do know this: communion is only communion when people are involved. Real people with genuine real physical features. When I think of communion, I think of people with bunions and bruises, with tempers and teardrops, with histories and heartaches, people who argue with their spouse and snap at their children on the way to church-people who come out of guilt or obligation or for the sheer joy of being with others who love the Lord. There are people who try hard to know God but can't quite seem to get as close as their more saintly friends who have Jesus all figured out . . . but that's okay.

Communion may always be a mystery to me, and maybe to you, but whatever communion means, it has something to do with God . . . and God's people. In our gospel reading this morning Jesus tells his disciples, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." Jesus is stressing here his desire to be with his disciples, his friends, his closest followers. Motley crew that they were, the twelve disciples were still part of an intimate group that shared in Jesus' ministry. And I believe at this critical juncture in his life, knowing what he was about to endure, he did want to be with his friends. I'd like to think as their leader Jesus cared deeply for each one of the twelve. I'm sure they didn't drink wine out of a nice chalice like the one we have here, but if they had one, imagine the thumbprints that would remain on the cup long after they were gone: each one different, unique, special in its own way-the doubter, the betrayer, the denier, the tax collector, the fishermen, and of course, the most special thumbprint of all, that of the Savior. Yes, communion is about people, but it's about the individual persons who make up any given community. I believe Jesus did indeed eagerly and earnestly desire to share a last meal with his disciples-each one a unique individual with a different thumbprint. And I believe it because that is how I feel each time I invite this community to come to The Lord's Table.

We don't pass the chalice, but if we did, think of the thumbprints that would be left behind after our meal is over and consider what takes place as each unique and individual child of God receives the bread and cup. Imagine if you can what they must be experiencing. Think of the week they have had, the people they have encountered, the challenges they have overcome and the small victories they have savored. So who knows what will be triggered by the aroma of fresh baked bread in their nostrils or the taste of sweet juice on their tongue? Maybe the Spirit will move someone through the reading of a familiar passage of scripture or the singing of a beloved hymn, or maybe in the silence the human spirit will meet the Holy Spirit. Who can say? Consider how we will meet God in all this-in this ritual that is planned but allows for the unplanned. This experience that we sometimes take for granted.

There are lots of people who love the church; there are a whole bunch right here in our congregation. But, my brothers and sisters in Christ, I'm not so naïve as to believe that we won't ever disagree.

We say that The Lord's Supper is a meal of remembrance. We remember Christ's sacrifice for us each time we taste the bread and drink the cup, but we should also remember that his sacrifice was not just for us. You see, Jesus loves those people-those crazy Presbyterians you and I might not ever agree with-just as much as he loves us.

So when you come to eat and drink of this common cup, remember all the different thumbprints on the chalice!

Amen.

"I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE"

I Corinthians 4:1-5

A long time ago, when some of us attended elementary school, each school day began with the class standing at attention to say The Lord's Prayer and to pledge allegiance to the flag. We probably didn't understand the significance of what we were doing. I'm sure we didn't question things back in the 50's and 60's, and yet, by some unspoken agreement we knew it was our duty as students to pledge and pray.

I must admit that I don't say the pledge of allegiance as much as I used to, and I know many of us don't pray as often or at least on such a regular schedule as we did when it was part of the routine back in elementary school. It's a different time. This country we pledge allegiance to has changed-and so have we. But, a pledge is a pledge, and when we pledge our allegiance to something we are making a promise.

Webster defines "pledge" as a binding promise, and "allegiance" is defined as the duty of being loyal and faithful. So to say "I pledge allegiance" is to promise to be loyal and faithful to the object of our pledge.

As a new church, we want to grow-we need new members to share in our ministry, but we want committed members. That's why we make a pledge when we say our covenant together every time a new family joins our congregation. But some of our folks who really take our faith seriously want to know how people can join the church, stand before the congregation and promise to be faithful members and then not participate or contribute to our ministry in any way.

On this 4^th of July weekend, as Americans who enjoy living in a free land, we might ask the same question of American citizens. How can we pledge allegiance to our national flag and not be faithful to our country? In writing to the church at Corinth, Paul says in I Corinthians 4, "That those entrusted with the secret things of God have been given a trust and must prove themselves faithful." In other words, if we enjoy the fruits of living in a free nation or if we have been exposed to the teachings of Christ and become members of Christ's church, then we have experienced a two-fold grace.

Those of us in the reformed tradition understand grace as a gift. We don't know why, but God in his infinite wisdom has placed us in our particular situation. It is a blessing to be an American, and we are certainly blessed to be Christians. You and I have received a wonderful gift or we wouldn't be here this morning-and all gifts require a response. Paul writing to the Corinthians says, "Those of us who have received a trust must prove ourselves faithful."

As Americans, how do we prove ourselves faithful? How do we live up to the pledge of allegiance we are so quick to recite? Some answers are obvious:

• We can vote and pay our taxes.
• We can serve in the armed forces or join some relief agency.
• We can serve our local community through politics or by belonging to various civic organizations.
• We can be informed, keeping abreast of what is happening in our community, our state and the entire nation.
• We can take seriously our pledge to make this one nation under God with liberty and justice for all.

As members of the church how can we prove ourselves faithful?

• We can be active by being here and paying our tithes.
• We can serve as elders or hold some other office in the church.
• We can serve the church by working on one of our ministry teams or by teaching.
• We can take seriously our commitment to evangelism so that everyone may be exposed to the good news of Jesus Christ.

The great former John Calvin said the greatest of all callings is not that of minister but of city administrator. Calvin believed those who had the best interest of the present kingdom in mind now would do well in the kingdom to come. As some of you know, I have a master's degree in Public Administration, as well as a Master of Divinity. If you remove the spiritual parts of the job, the role of pastor and city administrator are very similar. And frankly, our personal response to both our nation and our church is similar also.

Consider the biblical saying: "To whom much is given, much is required." In our country we expect more from those with more resources, the better educated, the well-connected, and those with higher incomes.

The same is true in the church. Some Christians have talents that are especially useful in building up the church. There are those who have a gift for teaching, or administration, or pastoral care. Some Christians have more time to give than others. And let's face it-some people are more conscientious than others. As Presbyterians, we believe that God alone is Lord of the conscience, and surely there are folks who seem not to be bothered by their conscience. You know the old saying: "twenty per cent of the people do eighty per cent of the work." It's true in the church, but it is also true in our society. Show me a civic club, organization, or even a business where everyone gives one hundred per cent. We know that is the way it is, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. We are right to question why people make pledges and then don't honor them.

But Paul cautions us not to judge others. In passing on the teachings of Christ, Paul says only God knows the motives behind our actions. In verse 5, Paul says that we are to judge nothing before the appointed time when the Lord comes again. We don't know what motives are behind, when on the surface there seems to be faithfulness in others; we can only strive to be faithful ourselves.

Today, of all days, we celebrate freedom. We live in a free nation. We can make choices. We aren't required to live a certain way. Our laws are designed to ensure that each person can indeed live by the way he or she pleases as long as individual actions don't interfere with the well-being of others.

So it is today with the church. When Christ came, the law which was such a burden was replaced by grace. No longer must we live with the laws that dictate our every move. But, in some ways it's easier to live without so many choices. To live as free people requires discipline both in our nation and the church. And that's why we have a pledge-to remind us that if we want to be free people, we are going to have to be a disciplined people.

We remember that discipline every time we say the words of our church's covenant-and every time we pledge allegiance to our nations flag!

Amen.

      "DUMB & DUMBER: THE STORY OF ANANIAS & SAPPHIRA"

Acts 4:33-5:11

The great British statesman Oliver Cromwell commissioned a famous artist to paint his portrait. The artist faced a real dilemma. You see, Cromwell had a number of disfiguring warts on his face. When the picture was complete, Cromwell saw that the artist had omitted the warts and thus presented a more-perfect-than-life picture of the great man. After staring at the portrait a long time, Oliver Cromwell said to the artist, "Take it away, and paint me as I am . . . warts and all."

The Bible does not paint flattering portraits of God's chosen people. Abraham, Moses, the great kings David and Solomon, the courageous prophets, John the Baptist, even the disciples-all are pictured just as they were . . . warts and all.

In Acts we have the story of the early Christian church, and at first glance, the picture of the early church is one of a faith community without any warts. In Acts 1, before Jesus is taken up into heaven, he instructs the church to tarry in Jerusalem until it received power from on high. So in Acts 1 we see a church that was obedient and faithful to Christ even though it was perplexed. The church gathered, not out of a sense of duty or routine, but in response to the promise of Jesus. The church was looking for, waiting for, and expecting something special to happen in its midst.

We certainly understand that. As a new church we're still excited about our ministry and things are happening-and most of us are looking, waiting, praying and expecting the next special thing to occur.

Acts 2 tells the story of Pentecost. (No warts here!) When the church is baptized with the Holy Spirit, we see what can happen. Peter preaches with boldness and 3,000 souls are added to the Kingdom of God. We see the members of the church holding their possessions in common, distributing goods based on need and not greed. The portrait of the church in Acts 2 is that of a spirit-filled, fire-baptized, anointed people. We see a growing and caring church . . . not unlike Palmetto.

Acts 3 tells of the healing of a lame man by Peter and John, so thus the portrait in this chapter is that of a miracle-working church. The early church was not so involved with worship and administration that it couldn't heed the cries of those who had special needs. We see a church that gave what it had and didn't allow opposition to hinder its service to God. Again, at Palmetto we give what we have-while many churches in our Presbytery cut back on their benevolences, this year we increased ours.

Chapter 4 tells of the arrest and examination of Peter and John by the Sanhedrin (which was the high court). Here these two uneducated, ordinary men spoke with such articulation they were released. So even in the face of attack, the church was sustained by the Holy Spirit. Looking at the church in Acts 1-4, we can only marvel at its obedience, its spirituality, its concern for the needy, its effective evangelism tactics and its dynamic preaching-who wouldn't want to join a church like that? We get the impression that in a church so powerful, so spirit filled, so committed, nothing could possibly go wrong. Yet when the curtain rises on chapter 5, we discover even this idyllic church had warts. In spite of all that the Lord was doing in its midst, it still had problems. The church had its share of hypocrites and of course there were disagreements. And money is always a concern in the church.

You know, the church has never been and never will be perfect-on this side of Judgment. And those who run from church to church, looking for the perfect preacher, the perfect choir, the perfect youth program for their kids are destined to run forever. Churches are different. Some are more spiritual, while others are involved in active forms of ministry and outreach, there are liberal and conservative churches, large and small churches, and yes, there are friendly churches and churches filled with important, snobby people who aren't so friendly, but whatever church you choose, it will not be perfect. It will be a church with "warts and all."

Acts 5 informs us that, true to form, in spite of all the good things that were happening within the early church-there were still warts within its midst:

• People dumb enough to believe they could take advantage of the church and the trusting nature of God's people
• People dumb enough to believe that things done for show will be blessed in the same way as those done in faith, without regard for praise
• People dumb enough to believe they were smarter than everyone else
• People dumb enough to think they could out-smart the Holy Spirit

In Acts 5 we have the story of Ananias and Sapphira, who I have nicknamed Dumb & Dumber.  You see Ananias was dumb, but his wife Sapphira was even dumber, as you'll see in the telling of this story. Early in Acts 4, a good man named Barnabas sold a field he owned and gave the money to the church. Well, Ananias and Sapphira decided to sell a piece of property they owned and also give the money to the church. Unfortunately, they decided to keep a portion of the money for themselves, which was dumb. You see, nobody told them they had to sell the property, and they voluntarily gave the proceeds to the church-their sin, their downfall, was that they lied to the Apostles about the amount and therefore they lied to God-which is not only dumb . . . it's downright dangerous!

I guess we shouldn't be too hard on poor, dumb Ananias and Sapphira because I know of plenty of dumb people in the church today. They pull their two-year-old turkey out of the freezer or gladly part with the fruitcake the boss gave them for Christmas and then put an outrageous value on these "we didn't want ‘em anyway" items for tax purposes.

Just start a new church and see how many old pianos and organs folks will gladly give you-for a blank tax write-off. In a way what Ananias and Sapphira did seems almost natural to many of us. We say to anyone who asks "Sure, we tithe at our church." And then we come up with all kinds of reasons why $10.00 a week is a "tithe" of our $50,000-$100,000 a year income. And we are just as dumb as Ananias and Sapphira. Of course we lie about other commitments too when we promise to teach Sunday school or work in the nursery, or chair a ministry team, and then forget to show up.

So back to our story-Ananias brings the money, lays it at the Apostles' feet and steps back to receive the praise and recognition he is sure will come as a result of his generosity. Only there is complete silence. Peter challenges Ananias, "Ananias, how could you let Satan fill your heart? How could you lie to the Holy Spirit?" Ananias was so shocked by Peter's words he fell dead, and the young men took him out and buried him. A few hours later in comes Sapphira-and this is why I call her Dumber-she enters the church and she doesn't have a clue, people are avoiding making eye contact with her, there is an unusual hush over the whole crowd, you can feel the tension in the air, but all Sapphira can think about is the praise and recognition that will soon come her way. And when Peter asks her about the sale of the property she, too, lies to the Apostle and to the Holy Spirit, and she, too, dies and the young men carry her out.

Do you understand the cause of Ananias and Sapphira's dumbness-it wasn't greed. They had been watching the praise and recognition other members of the church received when they gave gifts and they wanted praise too. More important-they wanted what everybody else had. You see, they were afflicted with the same disease that is causing a number of us grief, "sending some of us to the poorhouse," and still others straight to hell! Their sin was a desire to "keep up with the Jones." We see a friend doing something or getting something and we decide: hey, we're going to do or get the same thing, whether we can afford it or not, whether we really like it or not. And that's just plain dumb. It's dumb to always be in competition with others. It's dumb when we spend our lives and expend our energies trying to keep up with or outdo someone else.

Folks, this is a really relevant sermon for us. We are a congregation of movers and shakers; we like to win-and there's nothing wrong with that . . . if we have the right motive.

God wants us to be sincere. It isn't just what we give, but how sincere we are in giving. It isn't how well we sing, but how sincere we are when singing that will bring the Holy Spirit into the church. It's not how long we pray, but how sincerely we pray that will bring miracles from heaven. It's not how loudly we testify, but how sincere we are when we witness to others that will encourage the hearts of the saints. And thank God it isn't how well we preach, but how sincere our preaching is that will bring souls into the Kingdom.

The church, and all of us Christians who are members of the church, will always have warts. But still, the church is called to be an alternative community-a sign and foretaste of the heavenly Kingdom to come, where there is a way to live together unlike anything this world has ever seen. Not to confront lies and deceit, greed and self-service among dumb people like Ananias and Sapphira and you and me would result in the death of the church-and in God's eyes, that's just plain dumb.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Amen.