Volume 47 No. 21
Isaiah 40:1-11; Romans 14:1-9
Sermon prepared by Rev. George G. Vink, Visalia, Calif.
Proposed Order of Service
Call to worship: Psalm 113:1-4
"The Name of the Lord" or Psalter Hymnal #146
God's Greeting: "Greetings in the Name of the Lord,
Who made you.
His grace, mercy and peace be with you, now and always. Amen."
Words of Welcome
Call to Confession: "I Corinthians 13 sets the standard of
love. Let's hear it and confess that we've not lived up to that love."
Singing while seated: "God Be Merciful to Me" PH #255
God's Word For His People: The Decalogue — Ten Commandments
Song Seeking God's Power: PH #424 "Spirit of the Living God"
Prayer of the Congregation
Hymn of Preparation: "To the Hills I lift My Eyes" PH
#121
Prayer for God's Spirit
Scripture Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11 & Romans 14:1-9
Sermon: "My Only Comfort in Life and Death"
Reading of Lord's Day One by the Congregation
Prayer of Commitment
Song of Commitment: "When Peace Like a River" PH #489
Offering
Parting Song of Praise: "Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus" PH
#559:1, 4
Parting Blessing
Meditation and Music as We Leave to Serve
(Note: The reading of the teaching as reflected in Lord's Day One is
deliberately done after the message is brought. The message is to be read
with conviction and a sense of challenging the congregation while comforting
them with the assurance that is found in this wonderful teaching document
that's been with us as a Reformed people since 1563.)
Sermon
Dear Congregation and Friends in Christ Jesus, Our Risen Lord;
Let me begin today as preachers often do, with a question: "Of what
are you afraid? I mean, really afraid?" Or, maybe another way to ask
it: "What is it that you fear? What is it that puts a knot in your stomach
as you think about it?"
Some among us might answer, "Honestly? You really want to know? I'm
afraid of the results of the tests my doctor took. I know that there's something
wrong. I'm sure of it. Probably...cancer!"
Or, if you're like a lot of men, you fear what a doctor might say, and
don't even go to one unless absolutely necessary. But, again, "What
strikes fear in your heart? What makes you desire some comforting?" All
of us need this at some time. We fear the unknown and need comfort. And,
the fact is, often enough, we don't even realize what it is that we fear.
We know that something's wrong, but we're not sure what. We need something
to assure us, something or someone to comfort us.
Comfort is that which takes care of a bad situation. It may not remove
the situation, but helps us deal with it. Comfort comes with the assuring
words of a parent stilling a nightmare awakened child. Comfort comes when
a friend looks deep into your eye, sees your hurt and shares a hug. Comfort
comes and dries your tears or encourages you to keep going when what the
doctor said shattered your dreams and hopes.
Comfort comes to young parents presenting their children for baptism even
when they are not sure of what is ahead for them and their children. They
hear the familiar and loving words of their Lord and Savior, " Lo, I
am with you to the very end of the age." These comforting words are
followed by the challenge to go wherever he leads and to trust him fully,
taking up our cross. The cross is the call designed uniquely for us — a
challenging, life-embracing, and yet comforting call.
Comfort comes to all of us when we participate in the Lord's Supper and
hear the familiar words of Jesus saying, "Do this in remembrance of
me," followed by those assuring words, "Take, eat, drink, and remember
that ALL of yours sins are forgiven." That's assurance.
We live in a world, whether pre 9-11 or post 9-11, where many realize
that life is out of sync. Folks feel incomplete. Things just aren't right.
And, whether they realize it or not, it has everything to do with their relationship
to God. God is divinely warning them that all the achievements, all the success,
whether position or prosperity, fame or family, cannot fill the void. Their
deep-felt insecurity is not caused by terrorists nor by any test results.
Their anxiety reflects a lack of a solid assurance, a needed comfort, that
only God can provide. Alienation is not caused by being in a foreign land,
but by being a stranger to God's unconditional love and his acceptance, his
ownership.
Let's remember that nothing much has changed since that drama-filled day
in the Garden when a couple, bereft of their innocence, began living a nightmare
of alienation. God came calling with that question that has haunted all of
us ever since. "Adam, where are you?" "Eve, why are you hiding
from me?"
Whatever label you want to give it, whether anxiety, nervousness, incompleteness,
sense of inadequacy or simply a sense of guilt, we have it. And, we'll continue
to have it until we can confess with heart, mind and mouth, with every bit
of our being, with who I am and who you are: "My comfort is that I belong
to Jesus."
The first footnote of this confession refers to I Corinthians 6. These
words: "You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore
honor God with your body."
The next footnote refers to what we read from Romans 14. We're not in
it alone, we are meant to be in right relationship to the Lord. Whether we
live or die, we belong to the Lord. God had a right to come calling, and
he still has that right, asking, "Where are you?" and "Who
are you?" Inherent is something that we must realize is true: We are
his property.
So, when, or IF, in response to the question, "What is your ONLY
comfort in life and in death?" you have the assuring knowledge that
you belong to Jesus Christ. And if this is not just some confession you learned
by memory in your Catechism class, but has truly entered your deep level
of consciousness, then you'll endure every battle, face every foe, conquer
even cancer, confident of the outcome. Then you will say, "Thank you,
Lord, for giving me the comfort that I need. You are mine and I am yours." What
a summary.
The Christians who confessed these words at the time of the Reformation
in the newly-found faith of the scriptures were enduring uncertainties, struggles,
persecution and required true comfort. Even when they faced martyrdom, they
held on to, "I belong to Jesus." Their confession reflected a certainty
that their previous religion couldn't give them. Had they done enough? Had
they paid enough? Had they prayed enough? Did all their works ever suffice?
Or was something lacking as they struggled to be right with God?
Uncertainty was replaced with confidence, with the powerful assurance
of the words: "I belong to Jesus. He has fully paid for all my sins
with his precious blood."
Knowing that, believing that, I can now know that nothing can separate
me from his love. Nothing. That's comfort. That's the comfort you need to
have also in a world where the next terrorist strike may take your life or
that of your loved ones. That's the comfort you need if your family fails
you and your friends forsake you.
Who of us knows when something similar may happen to us? Who knows when
we will hear those dreaded words from our doctor or loved one's doctor: "That's
all that can be done." Or as so many have already heard, "I'm sorry
to inform you, but...."
The power of the comfort confessed in Lord's Day 1 is based on the confidence
we have that Jesus Christ is the only one. His is THE way to the Father,
and when we baptize in obedience to his command, we do so in the assurance
that it is meaningful and not some nice ritual. When we celebrate the Supper,
we do so because it has meaning for us.
This confession, learned and memorized by generations of believers, is
basic to what follows. It's basic to life, and not just comfort in death.
It's not just a cheer-me-up for the dying and those mourning. It's a comfort
for facing the struggles of the day. It's a power for entering into the battlefield
of the classroom, making sure all taught and learned is in subjection to
Christ. It's the basis for keeping the promises made in the boardroom as
well as the bedroom. It provides the comfort for living as well as dying — the
living that we're called to do again tomorrow, the cross we pick up as we
go about out daily endeavors.
That's why we say, "Because I belong to him, Christ...assures me
and the Holy Spirit makes me whole-heartedly willing and ready to live for
him." Those who belong to Jesus know they do and it affects their lives.
If your living does not reflect to whom you belong, then I ask with some
fear and trembling, but ask it I must, "Do you belong? Do you belong,
body and soul to your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?"
Sometimes, we spend hours looking at our children and grandchildren to
see whom they resemble. Well, isn't it about time we spend some time looking
at ourselves to see if in any way we resemble him, to whom we belong? Him
who bought us at a price, the precious price of his own life. Doing so, gets
us involved in looking at how we can live in the joy of the comfort that
God provides his children. What's involved then also is the constant interaction
of knowing my sin and misery, knowing how I am to be freed from them and
finally how I am to thank God when he delivers me from myself. Sound familiar?
I need God's comfort and so do you. When that penetrating, very personal
question, "What is your only comfort..." comes your way, can you
answer, "I belong...." Not "I've heard of Jesus" but "I
belong...." And, having that assurance, that comfort, do you live for
him? Do you?
Then, and only then, even with tears, can you sing, "It is well...with
my soul, that is — me. It is well with me." Is it? Is it well
with you? Can you say, "Though Satan should buffet, though trials should
come, let this blest assurance control. Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
and has shed his own blood for my soul...." (Quote more of the song,
if you like.)
Can you face whatever fears may come your way? Will you live in confidence
having this comfort that God gives?
Will you stand up for this Jesus tomorrow?
Amen.
