April 24, 2005 Sermon

Paul in Jerusalem
Acts 21:27-36

I first read the Lord of the Rings trilogy, by J.R.R. Tolkein, as a boy of fourteen. I remember nearing the end of the first book, The Fellowship of the Rings. Five hundred-plus pages of odd characters whose names I had trouble keeping straight, poetry, and a slow-moving plot might seem impossible for a young boy, but I could not put it down.

I came to a scene set in a city of the dwarves deep underground. Hordes of goblins trap our heroes. Arrows fly. Swords flash. Hope fades. In the distance sounds a muffled ”boom”. Then comes a louder “boom!” Then another, and another, always louder, always nearer. Our leader leans on his staff. A look of despair crosses his weathered face. The booms grow louder and more rhythmic. They are the booming of the drums of doom, and they announce the approach of a terrible demon.

I could hear those drums.

As we read Acts 20 and 21 we ought to hear the drums of doom thundering in the background. The Apostle Paul has been on the road (and the ocean) to Jerusalem for several chapters. He has traveled through many a city and small town, telling the Christians in each place goodbye—they would never see each other again. People have wept, clung to him, begged him not to go to Jerusalem . More than once a man with the gift of prophecy has warned him that death awaits him there. Paul has admitted he shares their premonition of doom.

Why did Paul go back to Jerusalem ? From various places in the New Testament we gather two reasons. First, Paul had collected money from various churches along his journeys. He had promised to give the money to the apostles running the church in Jerusalem —to Peter, James and John—and he intended to keep his promise. Secondly, Paul felt compelled to report to them how thousands had come to believe in Jesus as Lord and Savior through his preaching.

Paul wanted to make his report in person. He had left Jerusalem in part because he and the three disciples who emerged as the church’s first leaders (again: Peter, James and John) could not quite trust each other. Paul had first become famous for rooting out Christians and turning them over to the authorities. The Christians did not know what to make of him, even after his conversion to faith in Christ, so they sent him away. He kept going for years and thousands of miles. He spent months in jail, got flogged and stoned, and endured endless arguments all for the sake of preaching the gospel. You bet he wanted to make his report in person.

As the verses telling of Paul’s slow return to Jerusalem roll by, an inescapable sense of dread comes over the reader. Even if we do not know the story we begin to fear for his life. If we do know the story, we see the many places he could have turned back and wonder at his determination to do what he believes God is calling him to do, no matter what the consequences. Which of us would do the same? Which of us, suspecting that a mob wants to kill us, would head straight for it?

We attended a dinner last week at the high school. The guest speaker gave a motivational talk. His main theme was that it does not matter what happens to us. What matters is how we react to what happens to us. He shared that he has survived cancer. He has suffered. He has earned the right to say what he said. He gave every appearance of believing it. But I do not.

What happens to us does matter. How can it not? Last week I helped conduct mock interviews at the junior high. All ninth graders must write a resume, then interview for a fictional job with adults from the community. I asked them to tell me their most and least favorite subjects. One young man I interviewed replied that he hated all his classes. In fact, he hated the whole school. His parents got divorced a couple of years ago. His mom stayed put; his dad moved here to Traverse City . They did battle over him, as divorced parents often do, and his dad “won”. This meant he had to leave the high school in the town where he grew up.

He had to start over in a new school this January. A few young people have the social skills to make such a move easily. Many, however, do not. This young man is a quiet farm kid. He’s a little overweight. He has a severe case of acne. He got cut from the baseball team even though he had been named MVP at his previous school. He is lonely, angry and mystified about why all this had to happen to him.

What happens to us does matter. At an incredibly important stage of his life this young man got cut off at the knees. It will affect him for the rest of his days. Life has dealt him a bad hand. Many of us could share similar stories. School can be a cruel place. So can home. So can work. What happens to us does matter. At times, we find ourselves trapped in hard places. The drums of doom are beating, coming ever closer, and we cannot seem to find a way to escape.

But how we react to what happens to us also matters. When Paul kept getting hints that Jerusalem would be no picnic for him, he reacted in a way that we ought to imitate. He prayed to learn God’s will.

Bo Schembechler must love prayer. The problem with praying for God’s will is that three things can happen, and two of them are bad. God’s replies to our prayers can come to us as Good News. What God calls us to do seems thrilling, just what we wanted. But the other two possible outcomes of prayer are less wonderful. We might believe we hear a call from God that scares and/or disappoints us, or we might not hear any call at all. How do we react to these possible outcomes of prayer?

If you do not perceive any answer to your prayers, keep praying. If that does not seem to work, keep praying and seek the help of a prayer mentor. We have such people in our church. Trouble is they do not wear badges that clearly mark them. The reason is simple. People with solid prayer lives tend to be humble. Their connection with the Spirit has led them to confess their sins in prayer many, many times. It has given them experiences of the presence of God. It has encouraged and strengthened them. All these happenings in prayer have made them reluctant to claim anything special about themselves.

That’s why you might need to ask me for help in finding a prayer mentor. I do not claim to know every person who could help others learn to pray, but I know quite a few. I would gladly match them up with any person who would like to learn how to pray from an experienced, humble prayer—with their permission, of course. But if you want guidance, please do not hesitate to ask me. Or if you feel you know somebody in the church who could fit the bill, ask them directly yourself!

But what if your prayers get answers, and those answers disappoint you? What if God seems to call you to do things that frighten you? What if God seems to ignore what you want? First, you need to keep praying. Second, you need to test the answers you think you might be hearing. Speak with me, or with an elder or deacons. Talk it over with a Sunday School teacher or anybody who strikes you as being spiritually mature. Like Paul, God may call you to move in a direction you would rather not go. And like Paul, this may indeed be God’s “Final Answer”. Or it may not. How will you know unless to test it?

One way or the other, keep praying, and test your prayer answers with your brothers and sisters in the church. We all seek the Spirit together. Let us support one another as we strive to move where and when God wants us to move. Keep praying. Test your prayers. Go where God calls you to go.