What Kind Of Soil Am I… Today? (07/13/08)

(Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23)

Perhaps you saw the article in the AJC this past week.  A woman, who was pregnant at the time, recalled passing by the campus of Atlanta’s Morehouse College, years ago, while construction was under way, when her eyes suddenly fell upon a mound of red clay.  “My mouth watered,” she said.  In fact, she yearned to eat that clay, said the article; a craving she apparently had had since childhood.  Only now, during her pregnancy, she finally succumbed to it.  Not only that, but today – some 26 years later – she still consumes about 12 ounces of red clay every day!

This practice of eating clay, or dirt, while certainly not common, is not unheard of, however.  And while it most often affects children, women may also develop these unusual cravings during pregnancy.

In fact, the medical condition is called “pica” (pike-a), a term that comes from the Latin word for “magpie,” a type of bird known to eat almost anything.  And people with pica may eat everything from freezer frost to metal coins, said the article.  But the specific practice of eating clay or soil is called “geophagia” (jee-a-fay’-jee-a) or “earth eating.”

Most prevalent in rural, or preindustrial, societies, this craving or desire to eat “earthy” substances, such as clay, apparently develops as a way to augment a scanty or mineral-deficient diet.

Yet the practice endures to this day.

So at the Sweet Auburn Curb Market in downtown Atlanta, for instance, Ziploc bags filled with white chunks of “kaolin,” (Kale-in) that go for $1.49 a pound, are located behind the produce at one vendor, and next to the cigarettes and over-the-counter medications at another.

Kaolin, a type of clay found right here in Georgia, was also formerly the key ingredient in Kaopectate – the anti-diarrhea medicine.  And one of its side effects, apparently, is alleviating nausea; which, of course, is why it then might appeal to pregnant woman.

See – you can learn something new every day!  But eating dirt or clay?  Yechh!

On the other hand, it does remind me of the fact that, according to Genesis 2 at least, human beings were actually made from the earth.  “Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.” (Genesis 2:7)  In fact, the name “Adam” literally means “man of the red earth.”

And then on Ash Wednesday, of course, when we receive that smudge in the shape of a cross on our foreheads, we are reminded, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Or, even in everyday parlance, when someone is plain and practical and unpretentious in their approach to life, what do we say?  We call them “earthy,” or “down-to-earth.”

I guess what I’m saying here is that, biblically and otherwise, we have something of a symbiotic relationship with the earth and with the soil.  For tens of thousands of years, in fact, we (meaning human beings) have toiled in it.  We have plowed and planted the earth, and then cultivated and harvested the crops that grew from it for our food and sustenance.

If there was one thing, therefore, that people down through the ages could understand and identify with, it was the soil; the soil from which (it was believed) they literally came; and the soil in which they labored for their very survival.

And so if there was one thing Jesus’ audiences could also easily understand and identify with, it was the soil as well.  In fact, in today’s gospel reading Jesus actually tells them that they, themselves, are soil; at least in terms of God’s Word working in their lives.  And he does so, through a parable…

But first, I think, we need to set up the context for this parable.  Dale Allison, a professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, does an excellent job reminding us of the flow of Matthew’s gospel.

For instance, the first four chapters of Matthew, says Professor Allison, introduce us to the main character, Jesus.  “They tell us who he is… how he came into the world, how his ministry got started, etc.”

Then we have chapters 5-7, commonly referred to as the Sermon on the Mount, which is a collection of Jesus’ ethical teachings.  Next come chapters 8-9 where the focus now shifts from “words” to “deeds” and we are introduced to Jesus’ acts of compassion and healing.  Following them is chapter 10, “the missionary discourse where Jesus commissions his disciples and instructs them to say what he has said and to do what he has done…”

Then these chapters on the words and deeds of Jesus (chapters 5-9) and the words and deeds of the disciples (chapter 10) lead up to chapters 11-12, which record primarily the response to both John the Baptist and Jesus.  “Unfortunately,” writes Professor Allison, “it all adds up to an indictment: many of the people, under the sway of their hard-hearted leaders, have decided not to join Jesus’ cause.”

This, then, finally leads us to chapter 13, and today’s gospel, where, according to Professor Allison, the burning question is:  “How is it that so many in Israel have rejected the Messiah?  That is, “How did his own (people) receive him not?”  And chapter 13, which opens with today’s gospel reading – the Parable of the Sower – then addresses this very issue.

But one last point, before we take a look at the parable itself.  In the verses that are not included in today’s reading (that is, verses 10-17), the main issue is the question of why Jesus chose to speak in parables in the first place.  Which then leads into a conversation, as well, about the relative difficulty of understanding Jesus’ parables.

Tom Long, who is a professor of preaching at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology, claims that Jesus used these often “confusing” parables in order to force people to think more deeply about the meaning of the gospel.  In others words, Jesus did not want to have people grab the gospel too quickly because such a “quick grab” almost invariably results in a shallow faith that does not last – one of the points that Jesus actually makes, of course, within the Parable of the Sower itself.

To support this claim, Long tells the following story.  The great preacher, George Buttrick, was once flying on an airplane.  And as he sat there, he had a legal pad in front of him on which he was furiously scribbling some notes for Sunday’s sermon.

The man sitting in the seat next to Buttrick noticed this and inquired, “Say, what are you working on there, sir.”  Buttrick answered, “My sermon for Sunday – I’m a Christian preacher.”

“Oh,” the man replied.  “Well, I don’t like to get caught up in the complexities of religion.  I like to keep it simple.  You know, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’  The Golden Rule; that’s my religion.”

“I see,” said Buttrick, “and may I ask what do you do for a living?”  And the man responded, “Why, I’m an astronomer.  I teach astrophysics at a university.”

“Ah, yes, astronomy,” Buttrick shot back.  “Well, I don’t like to get too caught up in the complexities of science, myself.  ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.’  That’s my astronomy.  Who would ever need any more than that, eh?”

Touché.  Point well taken.  Shallowness of any kind, whether in religion or science, or anything else for that matter, is not a good thing.  And so it behooves us, this morning, to give Jesus’ parable here something more than a “quick going over.”

Although actually, at first, it’s really not too hard to understand.

“A sower went out to sow,” said Jesus.  Pretty straightforward, and it doesn’t take too much brain power to figure out that God is the sower here.  And that the seed he’s sowing is his Word.

The first problem, however – especially for modern listeners – is the apparent wastefulness of the sowing.  By that, I mean the sower appears to be throwing his seed around rather indiscriminately, doesn’t he?

Scott Hoezee writes that, today, we might have the same reaction if we heard a story about a farmer who hooked up his planter to the back of his tractor, but then threw the switch to activate the planter even before he was out of his driveway!  “There he is putt-putting down the country lane with corn seed scattering everywhere he goes.  It bounces on the road, some flies into the ditch.  When he finally gets near his field, he first has to cut through a weedy and thorny patch with corn seed still flying out loosey-goosey from that planter that, by all rights, had been switched on way too early.”

Hoezee’s point here, of course, is that no farmer in his right mind would be so careless in the scattering of valuable seed.  It would be the kind of wastefulness that a “frugal and economically-minded farmer would never tolerate.”

Yet, this is exactly what God chooses to do with the seed of his Word.  Jesus says that God is just such a foolish farmer.  “He’s got (apparently) more than enough seed to go around, and so throws it anywhere and everywhere, the odds of success notwithstanding.”

Now the ability of the seed to do what it was intended to do, even under adverse conditions, is something I want to come back to

a little later.  But what I’d like for us to focus on at this point, instead, is the third key element in the story after the sower and the seed; that is, the soil.

Four types of soil, of course, are mentioned: hard-packed soil, rocky, shallow soil, soil filled with thorns, and finally good soil.  And as he sat there in that boat, looking at the crowds packed along the shoreline, it was as if (someone has noted) Jesus was able to “scan” their hearts with a kind of “spiritual MRI.”  In other words, he could see “the hard hearts, the shallow hearts, the thorny hearts, and the pure and unencumbered hearts.”  And so to such an audience he now tells his story…

The “hard-packed soil” on the path is those “hard-hearted” people, isn’t it?  People who have completely shut their hearts and minds to the possibility of God working in their midst.  In Jesus’ day these were undoubtedly the people who found it difficult, if not impossible, to conceive that God might be doing something new and wonderful in the world through his Son, Jesus Christ.

In our own time, it’s perhaps a little different.  The hard-hearted people, in our day, are more likely to be the people who have completely ceased to believe in the possibility that God even exists, much less can actually make a difference in their lives.

Recent best-selling books, written by self-proclaimed atheists, who attempt to make the age-old claim that there simply is no God, are just one example.  But hardness of heart can also be found among those who reject God on intellectual grounds, as well; those who mistakenly believe that a commitment to knowledge or to science somehow precludes any kind of faith.  And, sadly, it can also be found among those people who have been hurt deeply in life, sometimes by the church itself, and now they wonder – even if there is a God – how such a God could have allowed these things to have happened to them in the first place…

Next there’s the “rocky, shallow” soil.  Then, as now, people can often get “side-tracked” by the superficial things in life.  Two items in the news in recent days caught my attention.  One is that the latest statistics show that while serious skin cancer has decreased among young men, it has actually increased among young women.  The reasons aren’t completely clear yet, but the greater likelihood for young women to want to be tan in the first place, even frequenting tanning salons during the winter in order to keep their tans year round, has been cited as one of the possibilities.  The other news item are the reports that people were lining up all over the country, even waiting for days in some cases, in order to buy the new iPhone that has just hit the market.

At a time when global warming, the risk of terrorism, the horror of genocide on the African continent, the AIDS pandemic, rapidly rising gas and food prices, the collapse of the housing and now the banking industries in our own country, all threaten the world and life as we know it, it never ceases to amaze me just how silly and shallow and superficial we can be, at times, as a society.  That is, staying tan and having the latest techno-toy are apparently more important, for many of us, than any of these above-mentioned threats to our planet and to our existence.  Furthermore, there was actually more press coverage, it seemed, of Christie Brinkley’s nasty celebrity divorce than there was over the travesty of justice and threat to democracy and self-rule perpetrated by Robert Mugabe’s regime over in Zimbabwe.

Shallowness, or the lack of real depth in one’s life, is a serious issue, of course, when the tough times come.  Edward Markquart, a Lutheran pastor who grew up in Minnesota, tells the story of working as a canoe guide during his college summers.  And among those they would take on these canoe trips were reform-school kids who had gotten in trouble with the law.  Tough and worldly on the outside, they, nevertheless, had very little experience when it came to the outdoors.

Markquart relates that they would often camp beneath tall pine trees, some reaching 65 feet in height.  But when storms would come and the winds would blow, they would hurriedly get the tents and canoes away from these tall trees.

The reform-school kids would naturally ask why.  And Markquart would tell them, “Because it’s dangerous.  Underneath all this ground is solid granite; and the top soil is only a few inches deep, which means that when the wind comes, it blows these 65 foot tall pine trees right over because they don’t have any roots.

It’s the same with some people, says Markquart.  Inside they’re just as shallow, they don’t have any deep roots, and so when the hard times come – and they will, for all of us – they simply can’t stand up to them.

The third kind of soil is filled with thorns and weeds.  Scott Hoezee says these people “are just plain busy and crowded.” He writes, “These hearts are neither calloused nor shallow.  In fact, there is some real depth to them.  Lots of stuff grows here.  But in the end, it’s too much.  The seed of the gospel comes in and sprouts just fine, but faces stiff competition for light and warmth and nutrients.”

Hoezee goes on to suggest that concerns about 401k retirement plans, Roth IRAs, the kid’s college fund, and their stock market portfolios “absorb a lot of nutrients from the soil of their hearts.”  In addition, youth sports, community involvement, the PTA at school, politics, neighborhood associations and socializing with friends – and it’s mostly all good stuff – still makes people busy, often too busy, he contends.  And so the seed of the gospel simply gets choked out…

Finally, of course, there’s the “good” soil, the soil in which God’s Word can sprout and grow and produce the kind of “fruit” Jesus hoped his followers would always produce.  But these aren’t very good odds, are they?  One out of four; only one soil out of four soils (according to Jesus’ story) produces the kind of growth God is looking for.  Remember, just a little less than one out of four at the plate got Jeff Francoeur sent down to the minors.  And the truth is: it’s not such a hot batting average for Christians either…

And then, of course, we have the inevitable question, don’t we?  Which is simply: What kind of soil am I?  Am I the kind of person who’s become so jaded, or has been hurt so deeply at some point that my heart has been completely “hardened” against the possibility of God working in my life?  Or am I a “shallow” sort of person who jumps at every latest fad, and takes my cues in life from celebrities and whatever else is the most popular thing going at the moment?  Or is my life just so busy, even with good things sometimes, that faith doesn’t even have a chance to grow?  Or is it somehow possible that I am basically “good soil”; that the seed of God’s Word has actually found a place in my heart and, even as we speak, is growing in my life?

The tendency – and the temptation – of course, is to assume that it has to be one of these four possibilities; that we’re either hard-packed, shallow, thorn-infested, or good soil, and that’s it.  One of the above, and nothing else.

But what I would suggest to you this morning is that you and I have been all of the above at one time or another.  That there have indeed been times when our heart was hardened, or times when we have been shallow and superficial, and other times when we were just too busy for God, and yet also times when we were prepared for and even receptive to God’s Word – and that it, therefore, found a home in our hearts.

So the real question then, for me, is not simply “What kind of soil am I?” but rather “What kind of soil am I… today?”  The realization and acceptance of the fact that we are not always good soil for God’s Word, that we actually fall victim to those soil conditions that make it next to impossible for God’s Word to take root.  But also that the soil of our hearts changes as we change, and as we face the various challenges and temptations and difficulties of life.  Which takes us back to the ability of the seed to do what it’s intended to do; a topic I said we’d get back around to… eventually.

I once came across a story about some archeologists who were excavating, a number of years ago, in the courtyard of a medieval monastery.  And during the period of time while they were digging, some seeds that had been dormant for over 400 years had actually begun to grow.  King Henry VIII had closed this particular monastery back in 1539, and the herbs tended by the monks had died.  But now they had sprouted to life again after the archeologists has disturbed the earth in which they were buried.

The point is this: if seeds in nature can do it, why can’t the seed of God’s Word?  In other words, if we’re honest with ourselves, we have to admit that sometimes we’re not very good soil for God’s Word to take root in and grow.  Maybe even for a long time, we aren’t.  But then something happens, something to change our heart and our mind, and the seed that has lied dormant in our lives suddenly, and finally, begins to sprout.  When that happens, it’s called grace.

Fred Craddock, another well-known preacher, tells a story about the time he got a phone call from a woman whose father had just died.  She had been a teenager in one of the churches he had served as pastor some 20 years before, and he would have sworn that if there ever was a person who never heard a word he said – it was that teenage girl!  She was always giggling with her friends in the balcony, passing notes to boys, and drawing pictures on her bulletins.

But yet when her father died, she had looked up her old pastor and gave him a call.  “I don’t know if you remember me,” she began.  “Oh, yes, I remember,” thought Craddock.  “When my daddy died, I thought I was going to come apart,” she continued.  “I cried

and cried and cried.  I didn’t know what to do.  But then – I remembered something you said in one of your sermons…”

And, at this, Craddock was simply stunned.  She had actually remembered something he had said in one of his sermons?  It was proof enough to him that you can never tell how the seed will fall, or where it might even take root.

Maybe it’s also a reminder of why the farmer in Jesus’ parable kept lobbing seeds at even the unlikeliest of targets.  As Scott Hoezee writes, “It’s not that the farmer doesn’t understand the long odds.  It’s just that when you’re talking about salvation by grace, it’s not finally about the odds, but about the persistence of the Holy One who won’t stop (trying).  Ever.”  Amen

 

The Greatest Job On Earth

THE HOLY TRINITY 

(Matthew 28:16-20)

In the days before it came under Communist rule, the board of directors of a large American company wanted to find a well-qualified man to handle their business interests in China.  He not only had to have the ability to speak the language, but he also had to be familiar with their customs as well.  Furthermore, the position required tact, a strong personality, and superior administrative skills and ability.  And for all of this, they were willing to pay a handsome salary.

One of the directors immediately spoke up.  “I know just the man we’re looking for,” he said.  “In fact, he’s already in China.  He knows their customs and he speaks their language fluently.  His present salary is only $600 a year, which isn’t his fault, but the fault of those employing him.

And so the directors voted to authorize this board member to immediately locate and personally interview this highly recommended and highly qualified candidate, and to hire him and even, if necessary, offer him a salary as high as $20,000 a year – an unheard of sum in those days.

After some months of searching, the director finally located this man, a missionary, in a remote area of China’s interior.  He told the man of the board’s offer and informed him of how eager the firm was to secure his services.  Then he asked the missionary, would he be willing to accept the position for a salary of $10,000?

The missionary shook his head, “no.”

“Well, then, would $12,000 be high enough?” the director countered.  Again, the missionary declined.

“I’ve come a long way,” said the American businessman, “and I don’t want to go back without some positive news.  Will you accept the position for $15,000?”  Once again, however, the missionary declined

“We have no other person in mind,” pleaded the businessman.  “Would you accept a salary of $20,000?”  But the missionary responded with a decisive and final, “No!”

“Why not?” asked the member of the board of directors.  “Isn’t the salary big enough?”  The missionary replied, “To be sure it is,” he said.  “In fact, the salary is far larger than the work would actually justify.  The trouble, you see, is not with the salary… but with the job.  The job isn’t big enough!  Proclaiming the Gospel, on the other hand… is the greatest job on earth!”

The greatest job on earth…  This past week I attended our daughter Sarah’s baccalaureate service and then, a few days later, her graduation from Parkview High School.  And I listened to a number of excellent speeches talking optimistically about the bright and exciting futures facing these 2008 graduates.  Parkview, as you may know, is the self-proclaimed “greatest school” in America.  And while humility may not be one of their attributes, Parkview’s faculty and students and alumni certainly do have a lot to be proud of.

It is no exaggeration to suggest that there are future scientists, engineers, lawyers, doctors, as well as future leaders of government and business among the ranks of those approximately 600 graduates; the movers and shakers of the next generation, both here in metro-Atlanta and probably throughout the country as well.  A significant percentage of them will undoubtedly go on to high-profile and even lucrative careers.  And many of them will seek after, and perhaps even secure, some of the so-called “greatest jobs on earth.”

But I am here to tell you this morning that none of these jobs – as high-profile and as lucrative as they may turn out to be – can make the claim of being the greatest job on earth…  You see, the missionary was right – there is no better job, or more significant job on earth – for a Christian at least – than proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Moreover, it is a job that is not limited to a select and privileged few – as many of the other claimants to the title “greatest job on earth” are.  Rather, proclaiming the Gospel is the primary vocation of each and every Christian, whoever they are and wherever they may come from; a calling that is inherent in our baptism; a calling that can and must be pursued, regardless of the job that actually puts food on our table and a roof over our heads.  In other words, no matter what career or profession a Christian may pursue in his or her life, proclaiming the Gospel remains our one and true calling.

In the end, if you’re a Christian, it doesn’t really matter what you did for a living, or how much success you achieved, or how much money you earned, or how many awards you won.  All that really matters in the end is – did you proclaim the Gospel?  Did you, in fact, go and make disciples, as Jesus commanded you?

Today’s reading from Matthew is probably one of the most memorable passages of scripture.  In these five short verses, Jesus lays out for us the entire mission and ministry of the Church; the whole reason for its existence.  In other words, if the Church isn’t following this command, if individual Christians aren’t pursuing this calling, then they are not who they claim to be.  These five short verses, then, serve as the litmus test of the Christian faith and life.

But sometimes, as Richard Carlson, Professor of Homiletics at Gettysburg Seminary has noted, “you’re got to wonder what Jesus is thinking.” Now Jesus does seem a little optimistic here, when you stop and consider for a moment what he’s saying.  I mean, really, did Jesus actually think that his followers would be able to go and do what he commanded them?

Carlson then goes on to observe that the Great Commission, from a realistic perspective at least, is a “recipe for disaster.”  It certainly doesn’t reflect the efforts of someone who has done any market research, or who knows what will and won’t sell to the general consumer, he says.

The first problem, according to Carlson, is a mediocre sales force, and one that is under-staffed as well.  The abilities, or shall we

say inabilities of the disciples, of course, are well documented in scripture.  Furthermore, our text tells us that only eleven disciples had journeyed to Galilee, and to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.  Judas, of course, was no longer with them, which meant that Jesus had already lost 8.3% of his personnel before he had even started!

And when the eleven saw him, we are told, “they worshiped him; but some doubted.”  Mark Allan Powell writes in his book Loving Jesus, “…I want to note that the word some is not actually found in the Greek Bible.  Why is it in the English version?  Well, Matthew uses a particular construction here that allows translators to think that the word some could be implied.  He also uses that construction in seventeen other instances, though no one ever seems to think the word is implied in those cases.  It could be implied here, but why would it be?  I asked a Bible translator that question one time,” writes Powell, “and (I) got the following response: ‘The verse wouldn’t make sense otherwise.’  (So) I invited this fellow to visit a Lutheran Church.  (Worship and doubt simultaneously?) We (Lutherans) do it all the time.”

But Powell also goes on to point out that “doubt” in connection with our faith and worship is not necessarily bad.  To illustrate, he reminds us that the one thing the Pharisees in the Bible never did was doubt. They were always absolutely certain about everything.  “They are the ‘God said it, I believe it, that settles it” people of the Bible,” he writes.  “It never occurs to them that they might have overlooked something or misunderstood something.  As a result, they are often wrong, but they are never in doubt.”

“It might be going too far to say that doubt is a good thing,” concedes Powell, “but… Jesus never rebukes anyone for it.”  Doubt, he suggests “seasons” worship.  “…worship without doubt can be self-assured and superficial.”  But worship with doubt can “keep us grounded in reality.”

However, “doubt” is not normally included in the list of top characteristics sought after by successful organizations, is it?  The one theme I kept hearing from Parkview’s faculty, administrators, and highest-ranking students this past week was the need, instead, for confidence.  They urged the graduates to “believe in themselves.”

Nevertheless, Jesus seems content here to go with people who have some doubts.  As counter-intuitive as it sounds, he’s entrusting his entire mission, as Richard Carlson puts it, to “worshipful doubters.”

Now common sense would dictate that Jesus “dump” such doubters, and re-tool his organization with a crack team of the “best and brightest.”  Instead, he appears perfectly willing to waste his time with an unremarkable collection of the “least and mediocre.”

The next problem, suggests Carlson, is that Jesus’ marketing strategy is simply not doable. Go everywhere?  Make disciples of all nations?  That’s unrealistic and a needless drain of resources.  The goals of the mission need to be more focused and defined.  Otherwise there is very little chance for success.

And to whom is Jesus sending them?  Anybody?  Everybody?  No boundaries, no target audience, no market share formula?  What kind of sense does that make?

Finally, what is the ultimate outcome Jesus is looking for here?

Baptize and teach?  To what end?  For what purpose?  What is this “discipleship” thing all about?

Membership we understand.  Membership we can do.  Sign ‘em up, get their pledge, stick ‘em on a committee, and if you see they can’t say “no” then elect them to council.  But make disciples?  What’s that?

It turns out, of course, that it’s about a lifestyle, not an affiliation; a way of living, instead of merely belonging.  It’s about following the One who is the “way and the truth and the life”; the One who came to show us the way back home to the Father.

Teach them “to obey everything that I have commanded you,” said Jesus.  As Brian Stoffregen has pointed out, the word “obey” here can also mean to “keep” as in “to make into a keepsake,” or “to consider important,” rather than to just blindly obey.  Jesus isn’t looking for blind obedience here, he is hoping that people will cherish and embrace and embody his teachings.

And, once again, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you came from.  It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in your life, or haven’t done.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve made mistakes, or were too timid to even risk making any at all.  Everyone has been called to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.  And everyone who has become his disciple is then sent out into the world – even our own little corner of the world – to proclaim the Gospel and to make new disciples.

That’s who we are.  That’s what we’re about.  There are a lot of great jobs on this earth; some that even come with great rewards and honors and compensation.  But there is no bigger job, no greater job, no more important job, than proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ; to actually go and make disciples, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to cherish and to embrace and to embody everything Jesus has commanded us…

It has been said that the average person knows about 250 people; some more, some less.  And among those 250 people we know, there is undoubtedly someone who does not presently have a church home or a faith connection.  So if each member of All Saints, for instance, invited and then brought at least one person to our worship service, this church would be overflowing with guests and visitors.  And we would also be well on our way to fulfilling the Great Commission.

Edward Markquart, a Lutheran pastor out in Seattle, tells the story of once meeting the pastor of the fastest growing Lutheran church in the country.  And so he asked this pastor how it happened.  That is, how had they, in fact, become the fastest growing Lutheran church in the U.S.?

And it turns out that it was really quite simple, although perhaps not easy, especially for Lutherans.  But what had happened, you see, is that all the members of his church had caught the vision that they were each to bring at least one friend to church a year, all of them, no exceptions.  This pastor said that the most important thing that happened in his parish was the miracle of people catching the vision of bringing at least one friend to church during the year.

No hassling.  No arm twisting.  No false bribes.  No TV sets for the person who brought the most.  And he, the pastor, was like all the laity.  He, too, would bring at least one friend.  And the result was overwhelming.  These people have gone through a “paradigm shift,” writes Markquart.  They now see themselves as being evangelists; they have caught the vision of Jesus Christ.  In short, they now see and believe that proclaiming the Gospel is indeed “the greatest job on earth.”

Pastor Markquart also tells the story of once going on a trip to the Holy Land with members of his congregation years ago.  The trip was called “The Land of Jesus and the Cities of Paul.”  First, they experienced the places where Jesus himself had walked and talked.  Then, they had boarded a cruise ship and visited the cities in the Mediterranean where Paul had gone on his missionary journeys.

Now there were about 500 people on that ship, from all over the United States, but only one person that he didn’t like.  Normally, writes Markquart, I like all people.  But instinctively, he felt an immediate dislike for this one particular passenger, in spite of the fact that the man wore a clergy collar, and was obviously a pastor.

Several days later, he finally discovered who this man was.  His last name was Wurmbrand, and he was from Romania where he had been a victim of Communist torture.  In Markquart’s opinion, this Romanian pastor seemed to relish reliving and retelling the horror stories of being tortured for Christ in the Communist camps.

Apparently he liked to corner people in small groups, where they couldn’t get away, and then he would share his ugly tales that made even those with the strongest constitutions squeamish.

So he didn’t like this Wurmbrand, even though he had never met him, and he had managed to avoid him until one night, he and his wife found themselves sharing a table with him at dinner.  Two of Markquart’s parishioners, Orlie and LaVonne Swanson were also at the same dinner table that night.

Much to his surprise, however, he found the Romanian pastor to be witty and charming and intelligent as he told delightful stories that were not so squeamish after all.  In fact, he was perfectly delightful until, at the end of dinner, he leaned over to Orlie Swanson and asked, “Is that pastor over there (referring to Markquart) a good pastor?”  Orlie answered, “yes.”

Then Wurmbrand asked another question.  “Why is he a good pastor?”  And Orlie responded, “Well, he makes good sermons.”

Upon hearing this Wurmbrand focused his eyes on Pastor Markquart and then asked Orlie, not looking at Orlie but looking directly at Markquart, “But does he make good disciples?”

“In that moment,” writes Markquart, “there was a pause, a flash of embarrassment, and a little dagger went into my soul.  He didn’t say it, but he could have said that the purpose of the church is not to make good sermons, or good music, or good youth programs, or good sanctuaries.  But the purpose of the church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ…

“In that moment,” says Markquart, “(he) was the angel of the Lord to me…  He is still God’s messenger to me.  The purpose of God for all pastors and in all sermons is to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  People who love Jesus Christ, who follow Jesus Christ, who call Jesus Christ their Lord.  That is what we are all called to (do): to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  Not make church members.  Not make Sunday schools.  Not make buildings.  These can all become ends in themselves.  We are to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  That is what it’s all about,” writes Markquart.  And Wurmbrand, the Romanian pastor who had once been tortured for that same Jesus Christ, understood that better than anyone.

We live in a world, and in a society, that frequently attempts to identify just what among us is the greatest; the greatest school, the greatest country, the greatest movie, the greatest artist or musician.  And normally I’m bothered by it.  I personally don’t like to refer to anything as “the greatest.”  But with one exception.  Like that missionary, many years ago, I can’t help but conclude that proclaiming the Gospel is, in fact, the greatest job on earth.  And what’s more – the job is ours!

Amen