click to hear this sermon  sermon081116

The great playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote the following: "This is the true joy in life ... being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one ... being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish clod of ailments and grievances, whining and complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

What Is Our Destiny? - Heirs of Glory - Ephesians 1: 7-14 - November 16, 2008 ­Cicero United Methodist Church - Everett J. Bassett

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The great playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote the following: "This is the true joy in life ... being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one ... being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish clod of ailments and grievances, whining and complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

Those words might be 100 years old, but they seem pretty modem. The good news in them would be that there is a possibility of joy. Not everyone believes that, but joy is possible in this world. It comes from having a purpose, being aligned with something you can believe in. This, said Shaw, makes you a force of nature. The bad news is that many people will choose instead to be self-centered and whining, focusing on their ailments and grievances instead of their purpose. Maybe another way to say it is that some people demand happiness out of life, and then complain when it doesn't just magically appear. Other people find the secret of real joy - and that is to live for something greater than yourself.

I believe absolutely in the wisdom of Shaw's words. And I believe they line up very well with the central teaching of the Bible about joy. But the Bible doesn't just talk about the joy of living for something greater than ourselves; it points us to the one cause, the One Being, that is worthy of that kind of devotion - and that, of course, is Almighty God.

Last week I began a series of sermons about our destiny - that we are not just an aimless accident of evolution, or an accidental collection of molecules. We are, instead, created for great things, destined for God's purposes. I am taking the main ideas for this from Ephesians 1. Here's three points about our destiny from last week - first, we are blessed in heavenly places; second, we are chosen from before the foundation of the world; and third, we are adopted as children of God to do great things. This must be the opposite of what Shaw described as sitting around complaining about an unbowing world. In fact, I think what the Letter to the Ephesians teaches us is that we are forces of nature - we are here for a mighty purpose. And finding it will bring us the joy of life.

Now here's today's addition: not only are we adopted as God's children, but we are in the will. Here's Ephesians 1: 11: "In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of Him who accomplishes all things ... " So, we've all seen the scene in the movies - the heirs are gathered aroundd the table, the lawyer is opening up the Last Will and Testament, and everyone is wondering what their inheritance will be. Here are some of the things that are on your list: 

First of all, you inherit redemption. Redemption is one of those old-fashioned religious words that isn't as commonly used anymore. But in the slave societies of the Bible, it was a huge word. To be redeemed meant that somebody bought your freedom. You were a slave, totally possessed by someone else, and someone paid the price for you, and set you free. In most every case, it would be an act of unbelievable kindness for

which the freed person could never quite express enough thanks. We talk that way, don't we, on Veteran's Day? - what a debt we owe to those who paid for our freedom.

God wants us to know that we inherit, in his grace, another kind of freedom - freedom from the tyranny of sin; freedom from those thoughts and deeds we seem to have no control over - that rise from our darker nature. We try to tackle them on our own - at least once a year, in New Year's resolutions, most of us resolve to overcome this or that harmful habit. But usually by February 1 we're forced to admit that we're addicted. We can't just conquer what we're doing. Christian tradition calls that sin, and it is the worse kind of slavery. But God wants us to know that we are not destined to be slaves to our own dark side. In Christ we have redemption - we have freedom - we have joy.

Closely related to that, we inherit forgiveness. This is also an old religious word, but this one has kept its power in today's language. Maybe that's because we still struggle with it so mightily. Every one of us who has ever said, "I'm sorry," or has ever received an apology, knows that there is nothing easy about forgiveness. All kinds of threads are tangled up in it - the lingering feelings, the broken trust, the need for restitution, the nagging memories of wrongdoing. Forgiveness is not something that comes at the snap of a finger. In the most profound sense, it took so much more than that - it took a man dying on a cross. And not just any man. It took the Son of God Himself.

You see, what we realize as our inheritance is made clearer to us is that the things that are bequeathed were not painless to the One who adopted us. These things came to God at great price - the blood of His Son. Last week, I talked about what an act of love God's adoption of us as His children is. When we talk about it now in terms of the cost to God, we begin to understand what an act of love this is. God took us in As Is. He didn't say, "Clean up your act, and I'll put you in the will." He said, "I know who you are. Come on in, just as you are." And then he paid the price of His own Son for our redemption.

Thirdly, we inherit the mystery. This may seem like a strange inheritance, but I think it's an amazing one. Here is how Ephesians says it: "With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will ..." I know I'm not alone when I tell myself over and over, half joking, but at least half serious, "When I get to heaven, I've got a list of things to ask God." In the course of our lives, we run up against things that we just can't understand. How did this happen? Why is it like this? Why this suffering? Why this unknown? Eventually we just have to make peace with living with the unknown.

But part of our inheritance is that the ‘mystery' will be made known to us.  We will understand.  But I think we have to be very careful how we interpret just what that means.  To say that God has made known to us the mystery obviously doesn't mean that the answer to our every question is suddenly made clear to us.  As the apostle Paul wrote in I Corinthians 13, "...we see as if through a dim glass."  We just don't fathom it all.  But three things I believe are promised:  one, the day will come when we do understand.  Two, even now, if we embrace our inheritance as God's children, we will get glimpses of God's will, and moments when what God is doing makes sense to us in a way our own wisdom cannot.  And three, what we discover more and more in a journey with the Lord is that those glimpses are enough. We can only see God's ways as if through a dim glass, but what we see through that glass is beautiful - is more than enough to call forth our devotion. We become okay with mystery; we don't need all the answers; we just need to know that the One who loves us and claims us as His own has the answers, and is carrying out a plan that surpasses anything we could even fathom if we could see it all. I am so thankful that God's mystery is beyond my understanding. I can't even successfully program a VCR; and I'm supposed to fathom the mysteries of the universe? I'll gladly leave that to God (I wish he'd also take care of the VCR.)

The fourth thing we inherit is the knowledge that there is a plan. That makes all the difference. As much as I appreciate and love science, this is the one thing science can't address very well. Science will tend to see things as accidents of an indifferent nature. Faith says No, things happen in nature because that is what they were set up to do by the Creator. And things are unfolding the way they are supposed to - not every detail, but the overall plan. I love the way the Letter to the Ephesians describes it - God did what he intended through Christ, "as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth." Right now, things and people are all scattered, going their own way, doing their own thing. The ties that bind us together seem to be getting looser and looser.

But despite appearances, a great ingathering is taking place. God is pulling the pieces together. It may take millions of years. Or it may be just around the comer. But it's happening - things in heaven and earth are being gathered to God through Christ, where they belong. I see the evidence every day in this church - God pulling pieces, pulling people together, where there is worship and healing and friendship and love and missions and stewardship and care and education and all the rest. God takes what is scattered and haphazard and makes families out of it - makes churches out of it - makes nations out of it. Jesus called that the Kingdom of God, and he said it's right among us, all around us, and it's coming closer all the time. I don't know about you, but I sure want to be there. I want to be part of it. What an inheritance. What a joy,

You see, what happens, I think, is that the more you claim your inheritance as a child of God, the more those words of George Bernard Shaw come true. It's not about whining and complaining and asking, "What's in the will for me?" It's about being part of a mighty purpose - seizing our inheritance so that we can give glory to the one who gave it - and thereby realize the joy of a great purpose in life.

It is said that Abraham Lincoln attended church one day, and was asked what he thought of the sermon.  He responded, "(That) was not a sermon, because (it) didn't ask us to do something great with our lives."  That could never be said of the Letter to the Ephesians, because that's exactly what it asks us to do.  To not sell our God-given lives short.  To not settle for a world of injustice and greed and violence.  To live with passion and devotion to something that really matters.  To be a force of nature because we will settle for nothing less than the best the world has ever seen - the love of Jesus and the life he gave for the kingdom of God - and the beautiful ingathering of love that God has determined since the beginning of time.  That's our inheritance.  That's our destiny.