Good News and Bad

How many of you have ever had someone say to you: “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” When someone begins a conversation with me that way I get nervous. I imagine we all squirm in anxiety when it’s our doctor, banker, attorney or accountant who is beginning a conversation that way. I’ve found that the order in which we hear these tidings does not matter. Sometimes they cancel one another out, but most of the time the bad news trumps the good.

As a pastor charged with the responsibility of preaching the Word of God, I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first? Do you want to hear about the economic crisis, the unemployment rate, the famines and food shortages in the world, and the recent death of family members that have touched our congregation?

OR…

Do you want to hear the Good News? Do you want to hear that there is one coming? Do you want to hear that God has a plan? Do you want to join the millions upon millions that have gone before us who have dared to believe that God’s Good News will trump all the bad? Like John the Baptist in the wilderness, I have some Good News to share with you. There is one coming who will baptize us with the Holy Spirit and with fire. In the hustle of this season, I pray we recognize him.

Creation is Telling a Story

Creation is telling a story. It’s a story you’ve heard and seen before, and yet, creation is faithful to tell this story again and again. As I drove to the office today, I began to hear this story again: trees have new buds on them, flowers are beginning to bloom, grass is becoming green again. Spring is coming, and I must admit that this might be my favorite chapter. The transition the world makes from winter to spring reminds us that dead things can live again. This is the story that our Father’s world is faithful to tell each year.

The church has a story. It is a story that proclaims that dead things can and will live again.

Last Wednesday night we gathered as a church body to hear some very unsettling news: “From dust you were created, and to dust you shall return.” This is a liturgical way of saying, “we’re dying.” We’re dying of our sin, of our self-centeredness, of our guilt, and of our infidelity to God and others. The prognosis is grim, but thank God, the church has a story to tell.

Like the regularity of the seasons, the Church must be faithful to proclaim this story. For those who are dying, we must hear again how Jesus confronted Satan in the desert, how he made the lame to walk again, how he changed water into wine, how he raised Lazarus from the dead and how he gave sight to the blind. Like Peter, we are summoned to walk on the water with Jesus. Like Matthew, we are invited to retire from tax collecting. Like the Sons of Zebedee, we are called to leave our nets and become fishers of men. As we walk in the footsteps of the Master, we are invited to find our place in this story and to be immersed in the redemptive activity of God.

At this point in my life, I’ve heard creation tell its story 32 times. There are some things about this telling and re-telling that never change. There is a season for cold, for flowers, for splashing in the ocean and for harvesting crops. I find myself caught up in the same rhythms of life year after year. And yet, each year is markedly different from the others.

Likewise, the Gospels haven’t changed their proclamation of who Jesus is or what he did. Matthew still has 28 chapters. Mark is still the shortest of the four. Luke continues to give us “an orderly account” with physician-like precision. And John will always present a side of the story that is missed by the other three evangelists. I’ve heard the Church tell these stories before. The facts remain the same, the places haven’t changed, and all the major players remain unaltered. Each year, however, it is as if I’m hearing them for the first time.

The church is telling a story. It’s a story you’ve heard before, but then again, maybe you haven’t.