The religious history of mankind is one of the most fascinating sagas in all the annals of history. Yet strangely, it is also the most frustrating, because it is so full of contradictions and disappointments. One is almost driven to throw up his hands at all religion, and particularly at that springing from our Judeo-Christian heritage.

Just look for a moment at the story as it is told in the Bible, when man’s history begins as a religious story. God begins history by creating a wonderful world to be the stage where his God-like master production—man is to live his life in fellowship with his creator and his fellow man. However, what happens in this wonderful paradise is that before long, man begins to question God’s good intentions in creating him. He believes that God somehow or other cheated him, and withheld something from him. By disobeying God and showing his own strength in his ability to rebel, he would somehow or other achieve a sort of God-like quality. Man thus gains a new stature by being “in the know,” and acquires a sort of God-like omniscience and all knowingness —just like God.

Man didn’t acquire that knowledge by sinning. In fact, the thing he did find out was that he was really a disobedient rascal and now he believed God would get even with him, so he ran and hid in guilt and shame. Then, God comes down to commune with man in the garden as he was in the habit of doing. Man is nowhere to be found. He was so ashamed of himself that he went and hid from God —and did not respond to God’s call, “Adam where are you?” Finally, God finds him, and man explains that he had really discovered his nakedness and his shame before God, and really it was partly God’s fault, because God gave Eve to Adam, and she seduced man to sin. If eve had not been created, man would never have gotten into the mess he was in. (You know I know some men who feel like this today.) Now Eve was on the defensive, so she says, “Well it was all the serpent’s fault,” and God you created the serpent. Soon man is estranged from God driven out of his paradise.

The first thing you know man is alone, out in the wilderness trying to build a great tower up to heaven and trying to pick up the tangled strands of his life without God. If he could only get his tower off the ground, eventually its spire would reach into the very heavens of God, and as he was passing up God he could say, “Hi God! I made it without you. I have now achieved my Godlike character.”

Before long this experiment ends in disaster. Man really did not get along with his brother much better than he did with God. Suspicion, jealousy, dissension, hatred all took their toll. All you have is a confused and disconcerted man, who grows more wicked. His big tower stands as a ruin to mock God and literally to bug him.

God’s first reaction to call this evil in man and to turn on man with anger and destroy him with a flood. He spared only the one righteous family—the family of Noah. This did not seem to work. Before long the sons of Noah began to act wickedly. Then, God took a new approach to man’s dilemma. He looked around in the world and he found one man who was a man of faith and goodness among all the wicked people of the earth.

He decided to lead this man into a new land, and make of him a great people of God to live in the world as the great repository for the truth of God’s revelation. With this action, God could show the world what life could be like if man was willing to return to God and live in fellowship with him. Man would live as the family of God in harmony with his fellow men.

There was one requirement for this people of God—they must really trust God. There must be none of this monkey business like they had in the garden of Eden. Man cannot look at God and say—aha—he must have some ulterior motive in making me. What’s he got up his sleeve? He cannot say—aha—I know what it is—God is threatened by this wonderful creature he made. He is afraid we will get to know as much as he does. That is why he has withheld the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Now man must implicitly trust God. So he says to Abraham. I want you to take your family—pack up your kit and kaboodle—and start of to a place you don’t know anything about. I will lead you to a land of promise where you are going to be the father of many nations.

Now, this was pretty wonderful, but there were some problems involved in this “blind faith.” In the first place, Abraham and Sarah had no children. Sarah was over seventy, and people that age do not have children. But God said: “Don’t worry about that, I’ll see to that.” When Sarah heard about that—she thought it was a great joke. Abraham didn’t think it was funny at all. In fact, he decided he better do something about it. So he raised a child by one of Sarah’s handmaidens.

Soon he found out, to his sorrow, that this was not the child of promise. God meant what he said that Sarah was to have a child and she did. Before long, God put Abraham to another test. The challenge came for him to take his child on a three day journey up on the mountain to sacrifice him to God—just like the heathen round about were doing with their sons to appease their God. This time Abraham showed more faith. When young Isaac looked around and said: “Dad, I’m confused. Here we are carrying the wood and the fire, but where is the sacrifice?” I am sure he suspected who the sacrifice would be. A few days earlier his buddy had made the same trip with his pagan father, and just yesterday the father returned alone. But Abraham said: “God will provide the sacrifice.” And he did. And we read: “Abraham believed God —and it was counted to him for Righteousness.”

Soon God’s own people came into existence—sons of this man of faith Abraham—with a great heritage of belief in God. Now this people of God were under one simple obligation: You obey my voice —and I will be your God and you will be my people. All you have to do is be like Abraham your father. Listen for my command obey it —and I will lead you constantly into your land of promise—as my people. You will be my great example to the world of what it will be like with them when they too become my people. You are to be the great witness to the life of faith in the world.

Now the strange thing is that again this witnessing community—this new people of God got in trouble. They seemed to constantly vacillate between two great and perilous roads of temptation. The first was to withdraw from the world in a sort of “better than you” attitude, withholding themselves from the very world to which they were to witness. They invented all kinds of laws—petty and picayunish many times—to stimulate this life of separatism. They prided themselves in parading their virtues before the world—these pseudo-virtues and said: “I thank God that I am not like you—look at me—I’m exclusive, I’m God’s pet—the apple of his eye.” They produced a ghetto religion.

The other temptation was just the opposite. They went out into the world and the marketplace and they became just like the heathen round about. In the time of the prophets, the people of God—the Hebrew people became just as greedy—just as lustful —just as crooked—just as cruel towards their brother as the heathen around them. There were times when they were no witness, because they lost their “saltness”—and when the salt lost its flavor —it was no good and was cast into the fire.

God tried various ways to purify that people. He gave them great religious leaders and a great Temple. They stoned the prophets desecrated their temple. Finally God used the wicked nations round about to punish them, and he took them into captivity to purify them through suffering. But this didn’t work either.

Finally God saw there was no other alternative to personal involvement on his part. He came down among his people and adopted completely the life of the servant, and carried that obedience to God right to death on the Cross. But he did something else. He gathered a band of disciples around him to learn from his lips and by osmosis from his life just what it was like to be a people of God. He demonstrated the power that would be available to them living by faith in God through miracles and mighty works —and ultimately through resurrection. He said to that Church—the kind of power that you see in my resurrection is available to you. This is what life can be like for God’s people—a people willing to trust God and follow him where he will lead.

For a while the church began to discover this kind of power in their lives. They were filled with this same spirit that raised Christ from the dead. This was the experience at Pentecost. Soon, they were preaching with the power that he preached—they even had more converts than he ever before. They began to duplicate his miracles—certainly they began to understand his words —and these words became the very bread of their life.

But then the old bugaboo haunted them again. They fell into the old trap of one of the two historic temptations. At times they became hermits or monastics and withdrew in self-righteousness from the world. Then it was that they devised all kinds of hard rules to live by to make themselves look good to the world. At other times they became worldly like the world around—and became greedy after gain, hungry after gold, selfish and self-centered and in their greed they withdrew from their brother for he became a threat to their security.

The cycle seemed to repeat itself over and over again. Once they were Puritan—and with stern morality they withdrew from the world. At other times, they became profligate and worldly—and the line of demarcation between the church and the world was erased. At such time, the world rushed in to gain respectability under the wings of the worldly Church.

It seems to me that is where we find ourselves today. Some of us can remember the rigid Puritanism of our childhood. There was a time not so long ago when it was a sin to whistle on Sunday. Now the pendulum has swung. The church has become as worldly as the world. What is there that the world enjoys that Christians do not enjoy?

I heard one of your young people say not too long ago—take any respectable person outside the church and put them along side of any respectable person inside the church and you can’t tell the difference. We have indeed become once more a worldly church.

Well, what is the answer? It seems to me it is that God is not calling us to be Puritans or Pharisees. Neither is he saying go out and live like the world—with only one philosophy—“eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die.”

God is calling us to something else. He is saying: “Come—take your families—follow me—I want to take you on this wonderful pilgrimage of faith—where you will be willing to go where I lead—asking no questions—trusting in me that the power of my resurrection is still available to you if you will make this pilgrimage.”

The requirements are not really complicated. Take time out each day to look for the pillar of fire and the cloud that will lead you. Ask me the direction for your life each day. Take time to listen. Then, be willing to pay the price of obedience. Do not get sidetracked by the lust for things or the lust for power or the lust of pride Be willing to put me first—seek my kingdom—use my word as your chart—watch the fine, sensitive needle of the compass of the holy spirit.

While on vacation, I bought a compass to guide my boat in any fog I might encounter out in the ocean. I was amazed how sensitive the needle is on one of those pesky little things. You had to get it setting just right—and give it time for the needle to settle—then sure enough it would be a safe guide—provided you knew one other thing —you had to know the lay of the land.

That is what God is asking you and me to do. In the Bible, we have the road charted. Here you get the lay of the land. You learn from the experience of the people of God where the shoals and rough places are. You learn to benefit the beacon lights of sacred history.

In prayer, you sensitize your life to the holy spirit—you take time in quietness in your closed room—to put the organism is a state of serenity and peace —so that the needle of the compass of the spirit can settle and you are sure of your direction. Then, you are ready to give your ship of life the throttle—like Abraham of old and like Christ—you give your little ship of life the full throttle and sail out into the sea of life and ultimately come to the harbor of God —where we can say the journey of my life has been worthwhile. I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith—henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteousness judge will give me at that day.

Lloyd G. Douglas, in his book The Robe paints a very beautiful word picture. All the world was at Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of the Passover. The conversation takes place between two men with the familiar split ear-lobe that marks them as slaves. One was Demetrius of Corinth. The other was a small, ill-scented little fellow from Athens.

Everybody seemed excited. The crowd was yelling something about a King. They were also shouting a Hebrew word the slaves could not understand. It sounded something like Misshia (Messiah). The other man was shorter than Demetrius. He could not see above the crowd. Standing on tip-toe for an instant in the swaying crowd, Demetrius caught a fleeting glimpse of the one who seemed to be the center of attention, a brown-haired, bare-headed, well-favored Jew. He was clad in a simple brown mantle with no decorations of any kind, and the handful of men—his intimate friends, no doubt — who tried to shield him from the pressure of the throng, wore the commonest sort of garb.

Demetrius among all the others remained quiet. He did not feel like shouting. “Gradually the brooding eyes moved over the crowd until they came to rest on the stained, bewildered face of Demetrius. Perhaps, he wondered, the man’s gaze halted there, because he alone—in all the welter of hysteria — refrained from shouting. His silence singled him out. The eyes calmly appraised Demetrius. They neither widened nor smiled; but in some indefinable manner, they held Demetrius in a grip so firm it was almost a physical compulsion. The message they communicated was something other than sympathy, something more vital than friendly concern: a sort of stabilizing power that swept away all such negations as slavery, poverty, or any other afflicting circumstances. Demetrius was suffused with the glow of this curious kinship. Blind with sudden tears, he elbowed through the throng and reached the roadside. The uncouth Athenian, bursting with curiosity, inopportunely accosted him.”

“See him Close up,” He asked
Demetrius nodded; and turning , began to trace his steps toward his abandoned duty.
“Crazy,” persisted the Athenian, trudging along.
“No!”
“King!”
“No,” muttered Demetrius soberly,”not a King.”
“What is he then?” demanded the Athenian piqued by the Corinthian’s aloofness.
“I don’t know,” mumbled Demetrius, in a puzzled voice, ” but he is something more important than a King.”

Something more important than a King has been the consensus of opinion through the years. Men have cursed him, laughed at him, hated him and disbelieved in him. But they cannot overlook him or ignore him. When Nikita Khrushchev made his famous trip to America about a year ago, reporters asked him if he believed in God. He said: “No, I suppose you would call me an Atheist.” Yet a few days later he said to a press club in San Francisco, “We are all brothers in Jesus.” In his recent tirades before the United Nations General Assembly, he made more than ten direct quotes from the words and parables of Jesus.

Dorthy Sayers, whom some of you remember as a detective novelist, is also quite a theologian in her own right. She has said that the Christian Faith is the most exciting drama that ever staggered the imagination of man. The world has asked of the Church: “What think ye of Christ?” “Who is he?”

The answer to this question has been forthright, categorical and uncompromising. He is Jesus-bar-Joseph, born in Bethlehem, reared in Nazareth, was in the most exact and literal sense God, “By whom all things were made.” His body and his brain were those of a common man. His personality was the personality of God, so far as that personality could be expressed in human terms. Yet, he was not a kind of a demon or fairy pretending to be human. He was in every respect a genuine living man. On the other hand, he was not merely a man so good as to be “Like God.” He was God.

Now this brings about the strange theology of Christianity. What does this incarnation of God mean? If it means anything, it means this. Here is a God who has the honesty and courage to take his own medicine. Whatever game he is playing with his creation, he not only laid down the rules, but he kept them himself and played fair. He does not demand anything of man that he has not exacted from himself. He has run the whole gamut of human experience from the trivial relations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair and death— as manifested and dramatized so terribly in the tragedy of the day of the cross.

Of course, Christianity was not the only religion that had a God who became incarnate in human flesh. The Egyptian Osiris died and rose again. Aeschylus in the play Eumenides, reconciled man to God by the theory of a suffering Zeus. In most theologies, the God is supposed to have died in some remote prehistoric time—whereof only legend can relate. This is not so with the Christian story. When Matthew was writing he could say: “When Jesus was born in Bethlehem in the days of Herod the King.” St. Luke goes one step further and pins down the date to a time of particular Government finance, when for tax purposes the people were being enrolled. Thirty years later this “God was executed under Pontius Pilate” for being a public nuisance. It was as definite and concrete as all that.

Of course, there are some disquieting things about this story of the God, who came to walk among men. The common people heard him gladly. But the leading authorities in the church and state thought that he talked too much, and uttered too many disconcerting truths. So, they bribed his friends to hand him over to the authorities, and they tried him on a rather vague charge of creating a disturbance. They had him flogged and hanged on the common gallows of their day, thanking God with religious fervor that they were rid of the knave.

So in simple truth the story is this: He submitted to the simple conditions he had laid down and became a man like the men he had made, and the men he had made broke him and killed him. This dogma we find so dull—this terrifying drama of which God is the victim and hero. What a strange world we live in. When a man stands up and recites the story of this drama, men find it hard to keep awake, finding it somewhat dull and uninteresting. Yet those same men are hoarse and tired, because of shouting at twenty-two men chasing a little leather ball around a field trying to get it over a line. This for us is exciting. However, when we talk of God actually coming down into human history and becoming a man— we wonder if we should go and listen to the story or just stay home in bed.

And how in the later generations we have messed up the story. We talk to our children about the “Gentle Jesus meek and mild?” Or we walk down the hall and listen to our children singing: “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam.” Now who in the dickens would ever want to be a sunbeam?

To those who knew him however, he was no milk-and-water person. They objected to him as a dangerous firebrand. True he was tender to the unfortunate, patient with the honest enquirer, compassionate before the needy, and humble before his Heavenly father.

But who could think of him as meek and mild. He insulted respectable clergy calling them hypocrites: he referred to King Herod as “that fox.” He went to parties in disreputable company, and was called that gluttonous man, that winebibber. He insulted indignant tradesman and threw their merchandise out of the Temple. He drove a coach and horses through the stayed conventions and religious customs of his day, shattering them to pieces. He healed diseases by the best means of hand, one time even making mud with his own spit and anointing a blind man’s eyes. He seemed to insult the proud and mighty with his paradoxical and humorous answers to their “How-do-you-answer-this-you-nin-con-poop questions?”

But there was another side to him too. His life radiated an understanding of mankind—a love and a compassion for the needy—a deep religious fervor and devotion to his heavenly father—this and a lot more—that gave a daily beauty to his life that makes all else ugly. John could say: “We beheld his glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of Grace and truth.”

And then finally they crucified him in the midst of two thieves. What a strange mockery he made of that cross. What a shambles he made of that kind of justice. He was hanged to that tree as a common low-down criminal—but his judge’s words could not be forgotten—behold the man — I find no fault in him. He was crowned with a cruel crown of thorns—but strangely that crown has become a jewell-studded diadem of glory—with each drop of blood glistening like a pearl.

In the classic little book for boys called Bevis by Richard Jeffries, the boy in the story looks at a picture of the cross in his little book for a long time. The writer says:  “The crucifixion hurt his feelings very much: the cruel nails, the unfeeling spear.” He looked at the picture a long time and then he turned over the page saying: “If God had been there, he would not have let them do it.”

But the strange thing is that God was there in that Cross. George Buttrick reminds us of the famous painting that tries to depict the insight concerning God’s involvement in the cross. The picture shows behind the figure of the cross, another figure shadowy and vast. The nails that pierce the hand of Jesus go through the hands of the shadowy figure behind him. The spear that brings blood from his side, pierces the shadowy figure, too. Who is this figure behind the crucified who is crucified too. Of course it is God.

Someone has said that if God were good, sin would break his heart. Well, it does_, and did. Sin broke his heart on the Cross. In a strange way three roads led to the cross. Man the sinner was nailed to that cross—this was the just punishment for his crime. Man the Good and Godly was nailed there. There was no sin in him and neither was any guile found in his mouth. But, God compassionate and redeeming—full of love for mankind was also nailed there. Sinner, saint and God meet at Golgotha—where God was triumphant—the new Adam was born to bring in the redeemed people—and man the sinner was redeemed— and his judgment was done away with.

That is not all. On the third day he rose again from the dead. God was in Christ blazing the way beyond the grave and death for man’s fulfillment. God was fulfilling his creative and redemptive purpose for man. Because he lives we live too.

Now the strange thing is this: No one is compelled to believe a word about this story. If we do not believe, we must take the consequences of a world ruled by cause-and-effect—dominated by wicked and greed-drunken men—enslaved by the very evil genius of man himself—a world bound ultimately for death and extinction.

But, if we believe in him, the whole story is changed. Man is no longer fallen: he is redeemed. He is no longer a creature bound for death and the grave—he is redeemed man— made for eternity and resurrection. The story of man is no longer a tragedy or a comedy, but a glorious triumph.

But it is all tied up in this wonderful story. Christ confronts us today. We cannot escape him. He says: “Come, follow me, be my disciple—lay down your life for me—declare me Lord—give me your all—and you will have all this—reject me turn me away, doubt me, blind your eyes to my love—and you are lost, doomed and gone.” You cannot escape the answer.

Last week, we looked at the Church from the perspective of its history. We began with the dilemma of man—severed from his God by rebellion—driven from his paradise of fellowship in the garden of Eden—estranged from his heavenly father, and growing more wicked with each succeeding generation. First God tried to redeem man through judgment—but man’s return was only a temporary one. Finally God used a new attack on man’s problem. He looked around in the world and found one man who had not lost faith in him—nor had he given his life to the wickedness that seemed to thrive around him. He decided to lead this man into a new land, and make of his seed a great people of God—to live in the evil world around them as a repository for the truth of God’s revelation—and to show the world what life could be like if man was willing to return to his God and live in fellowship with him—and live in harmony with his fellow man within the family of God.

Today, I would like to address this very simple question: “Where do we find this people of God today?” You may be shocked at first at the answer that I will give to this question. However, the more I search the scriptures and cogitate upon this question—the more convinced I am that there is only one answer to this question, namely this: I believe that for you and me here in this very place, where we are meeting this morning, the visible people of God exist, and the work of the holy spirit takes place.

If a man from outer space were to come to you or to me and ask us where he could find the Church of Christ he had heard so much about—our first reaction might be to take him up on a high building and point to the many spires reaching into the heavens and say—this is the Church. On second thought, we might point at the many Christian colleges, the multitude of Christian hospitals—the many mission stations in dark places and say—this is the Church.

But when we go back to the New Testament we find a much different answer. Jesus simply stood on the earth in a definite place and said: “the kingdom of God is here. Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in their midst.”

As Karl Barth has said so simply:  “By men assembling here and there in the holy spirit, there arises here and there a visible Christian congregation.”

The Christian congregation arises and exists neither by nature nor by historical human decision, but by the divine call. Those called together by the work of the Holy Spirit, assemble at the summons of their King.

If I understand Christian theology correctly—the story of the incarnation was a very simple one. God decided to come down and live among men and become himself, the core around which the new society of the kingdom of God was to be wound in entwining circles of love. His ministry began when he called the twelve to form a community of faith—a faith which ultimately was to bind them to him so strongly that these were closer than any other bonds.

He said they were to be closer than the bonds of family he said: “If any man will come after me, and hateth not his Mother and his Father, he is not worthy of me.” What did he mean by that? I think he meant simply this: “From now on, you must put your allegiance to me first, even before the bonds that bind you to your mother and father—because this community of faith of which you are a part must now become the primary allegiance of your life.”

Now you say these are hard words and it is true. However, we have an analogy to this in marriage. What girl is there who is willing to play second fiddle to her mother-in-law. Or what man is there who will stand by and allow his mother-in-law to continue to run the life of his wife—even though she is a daughter. When a young man or women become betrothed—or engaged as we now call it, they really foreswear their primary allegiance to their own families— and they begin a new household—a new intimate community—and the old intimacies between their brothers and sisters and mother and father now are relegated to a secondary role. This is the only way that marriage can come about in its truest sense.

Jesus was here bringing into being the most primary family of all—the family of God. In fact, some of these young men who followed Jesus actually left their own families and became disciples. You remember Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law. Now you cannot have a mother-in-law unless you are married. Yet Peter became the great visionary—going about the earth preaching the gospel—I am sure many times at the expense of his family.

When Jesus called this little community of faith together, it was a real, visible group—it was very intimate—each called the other by their first names. Sometimes they became angry with each other. One time, the rest of the disciples became very angry with James and John, because they were trying to get a corner on the seats of power, when Christ established his kingdom. However, this was the only community of faith there was. Christ had nobody else with which to work but these twelve men—and later the wider fellowship of disciples that showed themselves at Pentecost. This first congregation was not only a visible group, but it caused a visible uproar. Before long they had many people around them mad at them. Some were put in prison for their zeal in their Lord. Others were stoned and crucified—for their witness to their living Lord.

Before long, they gave to the world a book, which it cannot forget. This book was really a compendium of their best preaching we call it the New Testament. You know it is a strange thing, but they did not pay near as much attention to defending that book as you and I do. There was a young man by the name of mark in that first Church, who decided the basic facts about the life and teaching of the Christ ought to be written down so that men could read about it. Later there was this converted tax-collector who was one of the twelve—he read marks account and decided he should write one too, and add some things that mark didn’t include. Then another layman—a medical doctor Luke—who incidentally was a gentile—decided he would do some historical research, and make sure that mark and Matthew were not leaving out some things that were important, and the Church might forget them before long. Then many years later, a Christian by the name of John, decided it was time that somebody began to interpret some of these events, and seriously answer those who said: “What do these things mean?”

So, now the book began to be the center of the lives of this committed Community. As they read over-and-over again, the things their Lord had said and done, they felt his presence in their midst in a new way—and somehow his spirit began to possess them again—the flame of love was kindled ever more warmly—and they went out into the world holding the great torch of God in their hand—the visible community Of God—showing to the world the light of God.

Now we come to that word Catholic that is in the creed. We say: “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church” Now, the real tragedy for us today is that this word Catholic is tainted for us, because of its connection with the Roman Catholic Church. But the reformers held onto this word in the creed for a good reason. There is no other word that really means what this word means, which is the One, Holy, Catholic, people of God. It really means that through the whole of history, the Church remains identical with itself. It means that Christ has lived on from age-to-age through the holy spirit who in dwells his Church. That this little band of disciples whom Jesus called to be the community of faith grew in numbers and in power.

Each Christian called by God, drew in his brother to himself. When Jesus went away in the flesh, he sent his spirit down upon that little fellowship to indwell them and fan the holy flame and make it burn more brightly. Some had the book, too. In the reading of the book, they remembered their Lord and master, and were brought close to him through the book and his Holy Spirit upon them. This was no man-made fellowship. It was the fellowship of the people of God.

What does this mean to you and to me now? When you and I say, “I believe in the holy Catholic Church” you and I are saying—I believe that this congregation to which I belong in which I have been called to faith and am responsible for my faith, in which I have my service, is the one, holy, Universal Church. If I do not believe this here, I do not believe it at all.

I am sure the man outside says: “How strange it is that you should come and sing hymns that speak of a man who lived two thousand years ago—and that you should pray to God through that man’s name—and that you should read over-and-over again that book that tells all about him.” Yet strange to say, somehow, as men today gather together around that book—the holy spirit today fans the flame of the living Christ within our lives—and we become alive unto God—and alive to the world.

It is a wonderful thing to see a young man suddenly become alive unto God. It has been a real thrill to see some of you grow in the Lord. Last Monday night, I sat in on a stewardship meeting. There I witnessed this very thing. Here was a group of men who had suddenly become alive unto God. I felt as though the air was charged with power. Suddenly we looked up at the clock and many hours had passed— and we had hardly been aware of it.

The tragedy is that at times I have also seen the corollary happen.We forget that the Church is God’s human community of faith. At times some have withdrawn from the Church—some gradually, as though growing weary with well doing—others radically—out of anger or disappointment. We forget it is just as tragic to withdraw from the fellowship of faith as it is to draw a glowing charcoal nugget out from the rest of the briquettes. Soon it loses its glow—and ultimately it grows cold and black. How many there have been who have withdrawn from this fellowship and their lives grow cold just like that.

I remember Louis Evans telling about a man who came to him one Monday morning and said: “After yesterday I want you to remove my name from the roll—I will never come back again.” And Louis Evans responded: “I cannot do it, for you will be committing spiritual suicide. If I were to cut my finger off, it would lose its life, for it is no longer part of the body. So, I cannot cut you off from the body of Christ.”

So, when you and I confess our faith in the Holy Catholic Church, we really attest that this very congregation to which I belong, and for the life of which I am responsible, is appointed to the task of making in this place, in this form, the one, Holy, Universal Church visible.

Through us, Christ becomes visible to the world. The world will never come to know of the love of God, until they see the love of God expressed in the Church. If only the world can once more say as they did in the first century: “How these Christians love one another.” The forgiveness of God will only become visible and we forgive our brother, not 7 times but 70 times 7. And the world will never know of the power of God, until the flame of God in us is fanned to Pentecostal heat—until the world feels the white-hot heat of God through us.

A civil rights leader who is a jew recently said: “I like working with Christians”—and he spends his time training them to work in the field of civil rights—I like to work with Christians, because they are white hot. Two thousand years ago God came in the flesh and became one of us in order that he could call into being his holy fellowship—his own people the Church. Today he continues to call you and me to this holy community. You and I cannot escape his call. We must either open our lives to his call and respond, or we turn him down flat.There is no such thing as being neutral.

     Rise up O men of God
Be done with lesser things.
Give heart and mend and soul and strength,
To serve the King of Kings.

— Arthur Schwabe

As written by Arthur Schwabe

NARRATOR

God was looking down from heaven into the world one day. He shook his head. He just couldn’t believe it. The world seemed to be going insane. Men were killing each other in war. People were robbing and stealing and doing all kinds of mean things. There was also a lot of greed in the world. Some people had houses that were too large for them, with more clothes than they could wear, and too much food to eat, so that they became very wasteful.

Many others had very poor houses. Some were naked and many were hungry and starving. The people with plenty did not seem to care for those who were poor. They never thought of sharing.

Soon the poor people of the world decided that they must rise up and take their share of the world’s goods from the rich. Even little children were quarreling among themselves. There seemed to be no peace or love left in the world.

Just then God’s Son came into the throne room.

GOD:     I just don’t know what I am going to do to change people. It looks like I am going to have to send someone down to earth to show people how to be human. I must teach them how to love each other and share with each other, instead of being the greedy hateful people they are now.

JESUS:  Who do you think you could send to earth? Who could teach man the lessons of love?

GOD:    I have been thinking about that. In fact, I have someone in mind who could do exactly what needs to be done. I would like to send you down to earth to teach people how to love each other.

JESUS:    How could I do that?

GOD:    Maybe you could lay aside all your privileges and powers as My Son, and you could go down to earth and be born into a family like any other child. Maybe you could live in a little village. In fact I would like to see you born into a very poor family, so that the poorest of men and women and children could know that you understand their needs and feel their pain.

JESUS: I would like to do that. Do you have any family in mind?

GOD:    Yes I do have a family in mind. There is a young woman named Mary who is a very beautiful and good person. She is engaged to a young Carpenter named Joseph. They live in a little town in the poor province of Nazareth in Northern Judea. Perhaps you could be their firstborn.

JESUS: That sounds great. I would like to be Mary and Joseph’s son. But, how would the people in the world know who I was and why I came to earth?

GOD:    That would be a good job for Archangel Michael. He likes to blow his trumpet and make announcements. In fact he could take his Angel Choir with him. They have been working so hard on some songs.

They could go down and sing to the world the story of your birth. In fact, I would like to see them go to the hills of Judea ,where there are many poor shepherds who are minding their small herds of sheep. I would like to have the poor people hear the good news about your coming first.

READER 1:

God began to carry out his plan, and things began to happen on earth.

At that time Emperor Augustus sent out an order for all the citizens of the Empire to register for the census. Joseph went from the town of Nazareth, in Galilee, to Judea, to the town of Bethlehem, where King David was born. He went to register himself with Mary, who was promised in marriage to him. She was about to have a child, and while they were in Bethlehem, the time came for her to have her baby. She gave birth to her first son and wrapped him in clothes and laid him in manger

READER 2^:

Then the second part of God’s plan unfolded.

There were some shepherds in that part of the country who were spending the night in the fields, taking care of their flocks.

And the angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone over them. They were terribly afraid, but the angel said to them: “Don’t be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people.

This very night in David’s town your Savior was born — Christ the Lord. This is what will prove it to you. You will find a baby wrapped in clothes and lying in a manger.

READER 1

Suddenly a great choir of Heaven’s angels appeared with the angel, singing praises to God: “Glory to God in the highest heaven! And on earth goodwill to all men with whom he is pleased!”

The shepherds came back, singing praises to God for all they had heard and seen. It had been just as the angel had told them.

READER 2

Soon afterwards some men who studied the stars came from the east to Jerusalem, and asked: “Where is the baby born to be king of the Jews? The chief of the priests and the teachers of the Law said: “In the town of Bethlehem in Judea!” The men said, “This is what the prophets wrote.”

With this they left, and on their way they saw the star — the same one that they had seen in the East. It went ahead of them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was.

How happy they were, what gladness they felt, when they saw the star. They went into the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary. They knelt down and worshipped him; then they opened their bags and offered him presents: gold, frankincense and myrrh.

God warned them in a dream not to go back to Herod, so they went back home by another way.

This is the story of how God’s Son, Jesus, became a person like us, so that he could show us how to live as God’s people in the world.