When I was a kid, I used to love watching the Greatest American Hero. Ralph a teacher with a group of students on a desert field trip is given a suit by aliens in order to save the world. Of course, he loses the instructions in the desert, and the silliness ensues as he learns to use the suit by trial and error to fight the bad guys.
People have all sorts of heroes for all sorts of reasons. A Harris Poll from 2009 listed Barak Obama, Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King, Ronald Reagan, and George W. Bush as the top five. Jesus dropped from first place, which he held in the 2001 survey, but God, as a separate answer from Jesus, actually entered the list at #11 from not being listed before. Some of the reasons people gave of what makes someone a hero are:
Doing what is right regardless of personal consequences.
Not giving up until the goal is accomplished.
Willingness to risk personal safety to help others.
Changing society for the better.
When we consider our Lord Jesus, we see these very qualities manifest as if in bright neon lights.
And for myself personally—maybe this is because I read too many comic books growing up—I see a hero as someone who swoops in to make the dramatic rescue just in the nick of time. And that is something our lessons have in common. The God who loves us, does whatever it takes to come to the rescue—whether it’s rescue from desert wandering, rescue from our own twisted self-interest, or rescue from the sins that so easily beset us.
When Joshua brings Israel over the Jordan, they put their past behind them. No more Egypt. No more desert. They celebrate the Passover, and from then on eat from the produce of the Promised Land. God rescued them from the misery of slavery. God delivered them from the disgrace of their parents’ unfaithfulness in the desert. God opened the door to their obtaining, finally, the promise first announced to Abraham hundreds of years earlier. But it was rough and winding road getting there.
Many of us have had times of wandering, times of doubt, times of disgrace, times of complaining to God with a less-than-perfect trust in him. St John of the Cross, in his classic mystical work, The Dark Night of the Soul, notes that in our quest to grow closer to Christ, we might encounter times when God’s love and presence seem absent. It seems like our Lord has forsaken us, abandoned us. Even the comfort of our devotions—prayer, worship, eucharist—can flee away. But the stripping away of these modest rewards is meant as a means of driving us to the virtue of loving God for himself. So God may remove these side benefits, because they have grown to distract us from God. The point of any spiritual exercise is less about any peace, satisfaction, or ecstasy that may result. The point is to grow to genuinely love God for who he is. So when the Lord rescues us, bringing us across a spiritual Jordan from those desert times, we begin to experience viscerally once again the attending goodness of pursuing God. We can genuinely rejoice for the Giver and not just the gifts.
The two sons of the generous father in Jesus’ famous parable, in a more pronounced way than the pious mystic St John of the Cross, experience a similar struggle. Whereas in the Dark Night of the Soul, we have already been seeking to love God wholeheartedly, the two brothers, in much too familiar ways, choose the gifts over the Giver. The younger brother is brash—asking for his share of the inheritance, running away, squandering it, then humbly returning when he realizes what a mess of his life he made. The older brother is self-righteous—feeling cheated when his father throws a party for his returning brother. Both brothers have issues. As Tim Keller in his recent book The Prodigal God puts it:
Jesus uses the younger and elder brothers to portray the two basic ways people try to find happiness and fulfillment: the way of moral conformity and the way of self-discovery. Each acts as a lens coloring how you see all of life, or as a paradigm shaping your understanding of everything. Each is a way of finding personal significance and worth, of addressing the ills of the world, and of determining right from wrong.
So both brothers got it wrong; they were looking to themselves. The younger brother sought to redefine the rule book and returned a broken man with empty pockets. The elder brother stayed and did everything by the book, biding his time till when the old man would die and he would get everything that was left—only to have those plans dashed when his brother returned and was welcomed back with full perks.
The younger brothers among us attempt to impose their own rules on the world, only to have the world chew them up and spit them out. The elder brothers among us attempt to impose their own desires on the rules in a kind of spiritual arm-twisting contest, only to find their plans dashed on the Rock of Ages who is crazy about forgiving people. Neither of them sought to have their happiness center on their relationship with their father at the beginning. The younger brother finally has a change of heart, but the last time we see the elder brother, we are left with him fuming at his father.
Jesus wants us to move beyond the self-centered attempts to pursue happiness we see in these two sons. Neither hippy-style hedonism nor holier-than-thou histrionics will bring us closer to happiness. We are only most truly happy when we have made our home in Christ. God needs to be foremost in our affections, aspirations, contemplations, decisions, and daily actions. And that takes humility enough to acknowledge we aren’t what it’s all about, and repentance enough to recognize our need for the Holy Spirit to come and set things right.
Graciously, God is committed to the ministry of reconciliation. God wants to remove the barriers that stand between us and him. Our loving Father deeply desires to restore a loving relationship where we freely receive his love, and we freely love him and others out the overflow of that love. And considering the depth of disorder in our hearts and lifestyles, that means reconciliation requires not simply a stamp of approval, or even just a clean slate. Reconciliation necessitates a completely new life. St. Paul’s calls this the “new creation.” When Jesus talked to Nicodemus, he talked about being “born again.” And this is all language we find connected with baptism. It’s resurrection language. We are buried with Christ and risen with him by faith. A new being. A new person. A new heart.
But what about the myriad of people who are drizzled with water from the font and there seems to be no change? Two realities are going on. God’s grace is there—
God is doing the work, and the lack of human agency makes God no less present, nor less active, in extending his grace to us. But any extension of grace from God must be activated by the faith of the person to whom it is given. Recently, the Breens gave me a gift certificate for my birthday for a meal at the Inn at Georgian Place. Now with all the wonderful new things about settling in, meeting new people, and generally trying to get into a consistent groove, I have been waiting to use it. Is the gift certificate rightfully mine? Absolutely. Will it do me any good until I take it to the Inn? Not in the slightest. Similarly, to be reconciled to God, we need to “activate” that gift by faith.
Additionally, just like any gift of God, we have the responsibility to share that gift with others. God took the initiative first, sending Jesus as an “ambassador” from heaven. Then Jesus sent the disciples, who themselves passed on the joyful obligation of being ministers of reconciliation down to us. Now this shouldn’t be a challenge for us in terms of motivation. As we receive God’s love, and then learn to love him back, we begin to grow in our desire to show that same love with others—each of us in our own way. We have been wired with different personalities, equipped with special talents, and placed in a variety of relationships by God’s sovereign hand. As we grow in our understanding of what God has given us and among whom God has guided our steps, we learn to see where God is at work, and join him with our unique way of sharing the Good News of the Kingdom. Some of us are hands-on. Some of us are creative. Some of us are good listeners. The ways we interact with others to bring the light of Christ are as many as there are people who love Jesus. As Jesus has rescued us, so he sends us to tell others that their rescue is at hand.
Our Lord Jesus Christ is the Greatest Universal Hero. He rescues us from being too focused on the gift instead of the Giver through those times of deep shadow we sometimes walk in life. He sets us free from our misguided plans and self-centered attitudes, to find our greatest joy in him. He breaks the power of cancelled sin, reconstructing a relationship with us that motivates us to share such an amazing experience with others. I can’t account for why people choose the heroes they do. But I can stand before you this morning and declare—Jesus is my hero! If you claim Jesus as your hero, or if you would like to, I invite you pray with me…
Abba Father, through our Lord Jesus Christ you heroically rescued us—making us new creations who share a new relationship with you; so guide our hearts to earnestly seek after you when we’re in the dark places, to find our greatest happiness in you when we have lost our way, and to faithfully receive and proclaim the reconciliation you extend to us by your Spirit. This we ask for the sake of your love and glory. Amen.
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