I
If I were to ask you why you’ve come here today, how would
you answer? Tell the truth, now; you’re in church. What do
you expect and why are you here today?
I’d guess that a number of us would give out what Mayor
Williams calls the all-too-typical D. C. government
employee’s answer: “Idnno.” But I am betting that you do
know. What do you expect and why are you here today?
Now if the truth be told, some of us would have to say, “I’m
here because it’s the custom, it’s the thing to do, it’s Easter,
and that’s what normal folks do on Easter. They go to
church. I am here to do my nod to God.” And if you were to
say that, I would reply, “Sorry, but that doesn’t get it. A nod
to God and a couple of dollars will get you a subway ride, but
nothing more.” I would tell you that I think you really have
come for more than that.
So, if I were to keep on asking why you’ve come today, some
would say, “I’m here to keep peace in the family. My wife
said to me, ‘You could make me a little happier if you would
show up at church once in a while’ and so I’m here to satisfy
her. Besides, if I didn’t come, I might not get any Easter
dinner. So I don’t have any expectations other than for a
short service. I’m just here because she who must be
obeyed insisted on it.” And if you were to say that, I would
reply, “Sorry, but that doesn’t get it either. God does not like
being second best, and does not appreciate being used as a
pawn to settle disputes. So if you just brought your body and
left your heart at home, well, go home and join your heart.”
But having delivered myself of that, I would still tell you that I
think you have come for more than that.
“Well, pastor, if you are asking me what I expect from the
service, I’d say I want to feel something. I want it to be at
least a little bit exciting. I want the choir to thrill me with its
music and I want you to lift me out of my slumbers. Maybe
you can even coax an ‘Amen’ out of me. I want to feel
something.”
And to that I would have an answer too. I would say, “Yes. I
think you do want to feel something. But I think you want
more than emotion. I think you want more than excitement.
I think you want more than rousing music and oratorical
thrills. I think you want to know. I think you have come here
this morning to know, for yourself, that your lives are
connected to something secure. I think that you want to
know that your lives are rooted and grounded in something
certain. I believe that you want to know that your life is
valued by an eternal God, who cannot be shaken and whose
purposes are clear.
I believe that you and I come to worship because at rock
bottom we need to know that our lives mean something. We
need to know that somebody is minding the store.
II
The truth is that it’s hard to know anything for certain, isn’t it?
It’s hard to be sure about anything at all. It’s hard to know
that the things we’ve done will make any difference. It’s hard
to know that the things we’ve created will stand. If we didn’t
recognize that before nine-eleven, we certainly do now.
Who would have thought that those immense Twin Towers
would have tumbled so quickly? Who knew, before that day,
that much would be forever changed? It’s hard to know
these things for certain.
It’s hard to know even at the personal level, even the
simplest things. Yesterday I came home and noticed a pie
sitting out on the stove. I didn’t think anything of it until my
wife came into the kitchen and said, “Why did you take that
pie out of the refrigerator?”. I said, “But I didn’t. It was just
there.” And she said, “No it wasn’t; I put it away.” And back
and forth it went like that until now neither one of us knows
who moved the pie! You see, it’s hard to know anything for
real! (But of course one thing I do know, and that is I know
where I would like to put it, and it isn’t on the stove or in the
refrigerator, either one!).
It’s hard to know very much in this complex world. Nothing is
simple. Young Sally asked her father what looked like a
math question. “If one man can load one hundred boxes
onto a truck in one hour’s time, how long will it take two men
to do the same job?” Sally’s father shook his head over the
sorry state of education and said, “That’s simple. If one man
takes one hour to do it, two men can do it in half the time,
half an hour.” But Sally said, “No, that’s not right.” “Not
right, what do you mean, not right?”. “Well,” chirped Sally, “I
need to know whether the men are union or non-union,
because they might have a contract that forbids hurry-up
work. I need to know if the men are friends or enemies. If
they are friends, will they spend too much time socializing?
That slows down the work. If they are enemies, will they get
in each other’s way and make the job unmanageable? I
need more information.” You see?! What do we know?
Nothing is simple.
Have I made my point, somewhat whimsically? You have
come wanting to know with confidence about your life and its
anchoring. You have come wanting to know that your life
matters and that it is grounded in the eternal God. But it’s
hard to know with certainty. It’s hard to get complete clarity.
III
So today I proclaim for you that there is one thing you may
know. There is one thing of which you may be certain.
There is one place where you may invest confidence. That
one thing was well expressed by the patriarch Job, whose
testimony is, “I know my redeemer lives.” “I know my
redeemer lives.”
A little background. Who was Job? Job was a man who had
had everything but who lost it all – a man who had a family
and friends, health and wealth, position and purpose. But in
a few short weeks it was all taken away. His health failed,
his wealth disappeared, his family turned their backs, and his
friends did nothing but criticize. Job was a man who lost
everything. Now that would not be remarkable in and of
itself, because many people have lost things. But Job is
remarkable, because Job wanted to know why all this
happened. Job wanted to understand what was going on.
He was not satisfied merely to shrug his shoulders and
retreat into a cocoon. Job wanted to know that his life meant
something.
Job, like you and me coming to worship on Easter Sunday
morning, wanted to know, hard as it is to know anything, that
his life could be anchored.
Job tells us what he discovered: “I know my redeemer lives.”
“I know my redeemer lives.” Mind you, he did not have any
evidence of that! When he said it, he was still on the town
garbage heap, scraping at his raw sores! And the only thing
that anybody had said to him was pious prattle about how if
he would just straighten up and fly right, everything would
turn out okay! There was not one single, solitary scrap of
evidence around this miserable man to suggest that anybody
could redeem him or bandage his wounds. And yet, “I
know.” “I know my redeemer lives.” How did Job know?
What Job knew by instinct and by hope, I proclaim to you
today as certain fact and as bedrock truth. What Job saw,
with no evidence to base it on, I give you today, with not only
evidence of the Scriptures, but also with the incontrovertible
experience of thousands of men and women who wanted to
know that their lives were anchored, and who came to know
that their redeemer lives. What Job saw we give a name;
the redeemer lives, and his name is Jesus. I know the
redeemer lives, and his name is Jesus.
III
Here is how I know He lives. He redeems. He redeems.
Have you ever been acquainted with someone who seemed
to be a hopeless case? Someone who couldn’t get anything
right? But if you followed that person long enough, you might
have seen that story turn around. You might have seen
failures turn into successes and shame turn into self-esteem.
If you saw that, likely you saw the redeemer at work. You
saw Jesus, once dead and buried, but now alive again, and
with power to redeem even the most hopeless of cases.
Do you know the story of John Newton? John Newton was a
slave trader in the 18th Century. His life’s work was traffic in
human bodies, from Africa to the Caribbean. Newton was
literally responsible for the deaths of hundreds and for the
misery of thousands. But one day John Newton nearly lost
his own life during a terrible storm at sea. That near loss got
his attention. It turned John Newton to hearing the gospel.
Newton left the slave trade, he se aside his traffic in murder,
and his life totally changed. We know John Newton’s
redeemer lives, because Newton wrote it his testimony as a
song, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a
wretch like me; I once was lost, but now am found, was blind,
but now I see.” Newton knew that his redeemer lives. Who
else but Jesus could do that? I know this redeemer lives.
A number of years ago I met a man named Jim Vaus. He
had quite a story to tell. Jim Vaus had been an enforcer for
organized crime. He had taken orders from the top bosses
of what was called “Murder Incorporated.” Vaus had
laundered money, he had run drugs, and, although he had
not actually pulled the trigger, he had set people up to be
killed. You cannot get much more hopeless than Jim Vaus.
But one day he was passing by a place where Christ was
being preached, and he found himself drawn in and
captivated by the story. On that day Jim Vaus, gangster,
turned over his life to Christ, and everything changed.
Everything. From an enforcer for the gangs, he became an
evangelist for the gospel. There is only one way that could
have happened -- and that is with a living redeemer. Who
else but Jesus? Jim Vaus knew that his redeemer lives.
Oh, if you can know anything at all, if you can be certain
about anything at all, be clear of this – that He who once was
dead and is alive can bring us from death into life with Him.
He is a redeemer. He is a living redeemer.
Shall I regale you with more stories? Shall I tell you of the
day I heard a young man tell how he had been a bank
robber, but that his life got so turned around he was now
preaching the gospel? He met a living redeemer; I know he
did! Shall I report that friend of mine who once did time for
drug running, but now he picks addicts off the street and
shows them another way? He knows a living redeemer; I
know he does. Shall I share with you the testimony of men
and women in this congregation, in this very room, who once
were without jobs, but they know a living redeemer; who
once were consumed with anxiety, but they know a living
redeemer; who once were distracted, worried and upset --
not to put too fine a point on it, some of us were a mess. But
we met a living redeemer. For us this is not theory. This is
not guesswork. This is not a finely tuned theological
abstraction. This is real! This is nitty-gritty! This is life!
If you came to know today, this one thing I know. As Job
said, “then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on
my side, and my eyes shall behold.” I know my redeemer
lives. I know that he is on my side. I know that Jesus is my
redeemer, and I know that because He lives, I too shall live.
IV
Will you live? Will you choose life? Will you choose to
know? You do have the option of dismissing all the evidence
and of setting aside all the testimonies. Because until He is
your redeemer, it may not feel real. You may think that still,
you do not know for yourself.
On the day that Jesus left the tomb, and the women saw
him, they ran to tell the disciples. The Bible reports that
nobody believed them. “But these words seemed to them an
idle tale, and they did not believe them.” It wasn’t real, not
yet. But keep reading:
“But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking
in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went
home, amazed at what had happened.”
Peter got up and looked in for himself. Peter got up from his
rut and let himself experience the risen Christ. Peter got up
from hopelessness and fear, Peter got up from skepticism
and anxiety, Peter got up from the shame of denial and from
the waste of bluster. Peter got up and looked for himself.
And went home amazed. He knew his redeemer lives.
Somebody here today wants to go home amazed.
Somebody here today is ready to get up from the past and
know a living redeemer. Somebody here today ought to get
up from a life that is pock-marked with pain and know Jesus
and joy. Somebody here today needs to get up from death
and debt, from sin and suffering, from failure and fear, and
go home knowing a living redeemer.
You didn’t know. You came wanting to know. But it’s hard
to know for sure. I tell you, if you hear nothing else, what
He’s done for others, He’ll do for you. I know – I know my
redeemer Jesus lives. My own eyes behold it.
