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"The Anchor of the Soul"

 

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.

Hebrews 6:9

 

September 16, 2001 Rev. Gary LeTourneau


As we in the New Testament era read the Psalms and see the references to "O Israel," we're to understand those as addressing the community of faith, which we are. Let's read together Psalm 130:

 

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.

Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive

to the voice of my supplications!

 

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,

Lord, who could stand?

But there is forgiveness with you,

so that you may be revered.

 

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,

and in His word I hope;

my soul waits for the Lord

more than those who watch for the morning,

more than those who watch for the morning.

 

O Israel, hope in the Lord!

For with the Lord there is steadfast love,

and with him is great power to redeem,

It is He who will redeem Israel

from all its iniquities.

 

I woke up on Wednesday morning and as I came to consciousness, I realized that I was being visited by some emotions, or an emotional state, which it took me a while to put my finger on as I was lying in bed. Then I recognized it: I haven't felt this way since my son died. That pervasive heaviness that's there when you go to sleep at night. If you wake up in the night, you're aware of it. And when I awoke, there it was.

 

I've been thinking about our collective sense of grief, and loss, as a country and as people. Some of you have shared with me your own experiences and concerns. Feelings of depression, anxiety, fear, guilt, a sense of loss. So I've been thinking this whole week about what it is that we as Christians have that enables us to move--hopefully forward--in a time such as this.

 

I'm always reminded of the saying coined by a Jewish psychiatrist named Victor Frankel:

 

He who has a "why" to live can bear almost any "how."

 

You may not know when he said that. Let me remind you. He was arrested by the Nazis in Germany. He had spent his whole life as a psychiatrist preparing a book on the meaning of life. He had it written down in manuscript form. When Doctor Frankel knew he was going to be arrested, he took that manuscript and sewed it into the lining of his coat. Then he was arrested. When he arrived at Auschwitz, he says, "I found myself confronted with the question of whether under such circumstances my life was now void of any meaning." He had been working on a book on the meaning of life. "Is it over now? I'm just a prisoner at Auschwitz."

 

When he was wrestling with that question, within a few days of his arrival, the Nazis forced the new prisoners to give up their clothes, and they were given instead the clothes of those who had recently been sent to the gas chamber. Doctor Frankel writes:

 

Instead of the many pages of my manuscript sewn in the lining of my coat, I found in the pocket of my newly-acquired coat a single page torn out of a Hebrew prayer book which contained the main Jewish prayer:

Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one God, and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your strength, and with all your might.

[He writes] How should I have interpreted such a coincidence? Losing my life's work for one scrap of paper. How should I have interpreted it other than as a challenge to now live my thoughts on how to have a life full of meaning instead of just writing them down on paper.

 

After the war he published his book, Man's Search for Meaning, and he wrote:

 

There is nothing in the world that would so effectively help one to survive even the worst conditions, as the knowledge that there is meaning in one's life. [And then he says it:] He who has a "why" to live can bear almost any "how." [How to live in these circumstances]

 

And when we as Christians think about the big questions of the meaning of life and how to live, well, our answer on the "why" to live, ultimately comes back to hope. The Psalmist said it:

 

My soul hopes in your word.

 

We read in the book of Hebrews--I had it printed in the bulletin, Hebrews 6:19:

 

Hope is the anchor of the soul.

 

Today I'd like to talk about hope and what a difference hope makes in your life and mine as followers of Jesus Christ in the light of the unsettling tragedy that has befallen us as a country. First I want to make it very clear: When we Christians talk about this hope we have, we mean our hope in Jesus Christ.

 

We have a Book of Confessions as Presbyterians. In that is the Heidelberg Catechism. It's a wonderful reflection on the Christian life in question-and-answer form. You'll see printed at the bottom of your bulletin, there on the right side, the first question and answer from the Heidelberg Catechism. This is the Christian answer to "What is my hope?"

 

The question: "What is your only comfort, in life and in death?"

 

Now, you know the Christians in Heidelberg--they knew the comfort of a loving spouse, of being surrounded by family, of parents. They knew the comfort of a secure home and a secure job. If they were alive today they'd know the comfort of a well-stocked 401k plan, or anything else we might turn to for comfort and assurance. But nonetheless, they speak of your "only" comfort because they want to identify that which you can never lose and never be without. The answer:

 

My only comfort, in life and in death, is that I belong--body and soul, in life and in death--not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the devil; that he protects me so well that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, that everything must fit his purpose for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

 

What's my only comfort? That I belong to Jesus. That I know He protects me. That I know He assures me of eternal life. That He makes me ready to live my life with meaning and purpose right now. Do you know that hope? It's what God promises us in Jesus Christ.

 

A couple of weeks ago I preached on the name "Christian." You remember I said it means we're the property of Jesus Christ. We belong to Him. He holds us in His hand. Nothing can happen to us that He doesn't finally, in some way, allow. And His promise is to bring us home to Himself in eternity with our loved ones, with all those dear to us. That's what it means to be a believer. That is our hope. It's in Jesus. It's not in this life. And when you and I think about the big questions of life as we are this week--as our friends, and neighbors, and everybody is--our answer is, "I belong to Jesus. He's the God of the universe. I'm going to be OK. The God of hope is going to see us through these circumstances."

 

I want to talk a little about what it means to be hopeful people. What does the life of hope look like? Some people think that if you know that the "why" to live is Jesus, you have to have all the answers for life. I think it's quite natural this week for every thinking person to say and ask, "Why? Why, God, does this happen?"

 

There's nothing in the Bible which discourages us from asking the question, "Why?" As a matter of fact, when you look at Jesus, remember on the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" If you read the Psalms, as we did today, they're full of the question, "Why?" "Why do the evil prevail, O God? If you're the sovereign one, and if you're the ruler of the world, then why is this happening?" Look at Job on the ash heap. He asks the question, "Why?" There's no sin in asking that question. But, you know, I do have to honestly say as a pastor that as we wrestle with that question, "Why?" we may never this side of eternity be ultimately satisfied with the answer. I took some comfort from the words of the Reverend Billy Graham as he spoke at the National Cathedral on Friday:

 

I've been asked, [says Billy Graham] hundreds of times in my life why God allows tragedy and suffering. I have to confess that I really do not know the answer totally, even to my own satisfaction. I have to accept by faith that God is sovereign, that He's a God of love, and mercy, and compassion in the midst of suffering.

 

You see, that's really what it comes back to. We never ultimately learn "why." What we learn is God is with us when we suffer. And God is with us when we call out to Him because we belong to Him. It's OK to ask, "Why?"

 

I want to caution us. I think well-meaning Christians, in an attempt to sort of account for God, or account for God's sovereignty, are tempted at times like this to give a reason "why" which ends up being an insult to God and an insult to the people who suffer any loss or any tragedy. As a pastor I was ashamed to read in the Washington Post a quote from two prominent television evangelists. I won't name them. "God continues to lift the curtain and allow the enemies of America to give us probably what we deserve." That's an insult to God, friends. This was not God's will. Terror is not God's will. He made His will abundantly clear to us: "Love your neighbor as yourself." That's what the God of the universe said is His will for us. Not acts of terror.

 

I'm reminded when William Barclay, who wrote the Daily Bible Series, a commentary on the New Testament that many of us have used through the years as a day by day guide through the New Testament. As an adult, he and his wife lost their 21-year-old daughter and her fiance in a sailing accident. There was a storm at sea and they drowned. In his autobiography Barclay writes:

 

Although God didn't calm that storm at sea, in which my daughter lost her life, He did calm the storm in our hearts.

 

I like that. The God of the universe can do that. He then goes on to report that he received an anonymous letter. Someone wrote him after the loss of his daughter and said, "I know why God killed your daughter. It was to protect her from the heresies you're writing in your commentary series." Barclay wrote, "If I had an address, I would have written back--not in anger, but in pity, with the words of John Wesley: 'Your god is my devil.' "

 

Do you get what he's saying there? A god who plans for the destruction by terrorists would be no just God at all. He would be a devil. God is not the author of evil. God is good. He is loving. We have never come up with an adequate answer to the "Why?" of evil, but we know who God is, and we know what God is like.

 

One more thing about living as hopeful people. I want to encourage you, as Christians, to struggle with two more facets that are going to be part of American life now--that we're as Christians going to have to struggle with and take leadership in. The first one I simply identify. I don't really have any guidance for you other than to say as Christians, retaliation is prohibited us, but justice is certainly allowed. If you look in the Bible, it's clear as God designed society, He intended it to be just and He intended the nations of the world to be just governments and to bring people to justice. Somehow we have to be a people who seek justice in this, but not retaliation. I don't even know what that means. And, frankly, I'm still angry enough I'm not there emotionally. But Jesus was very clear about what it means to be a follower of Him and to love others. So let's hope for justice, not retaliation.

 

Right with that, people of hope don't allow their lives to become filled with hatred. I'm thinking very specifically of an issue which hits very close to home for Joan and me. I think many of you know that my wife's mother is Lebanese and all of her family on that side are Arabs. She has cousins who are traveling internationally--for the Bechtel Corporation. They look Arab. They have very Arab-sounding names. Today I think any Arab and any Muslim in America lives in fear of what we might become because of what's been done to us. Let me suggest one way of helping you to sort this out in your mind. There's not one person in this room who has any problem distinguishing Terry Nichols and Timothy McVeigh--who are terrorists--from Americans. Even though they share our language, and our culture, and they look like us, you and I would be insulted and horrified if someone else said, "Look at what McVeigh and Nichols did. Americans are terrorists." You can be an Arab, you can be a Muslim--that doesn't mean you are a terrorist. We're mature enough as people to make that distinction. And we've got to find a way to do it in our national life and in our personal life.

 

Finally, I want to talk about sharing the hope we have. If it's true that you and I know the only comfort in life and in death, Jesus Christ, it's true that you and I live as people of hope. It's inevitably true that in a week like this, and in a time like this when people are asking the big questions of life--and, boy, they really are. Can you think of a time in recent history when America has turned to prayer like this? Can you think of a time when people have sought out God for answers to their deep questions?

 

You and I know that answer. 1 Peter 3:15, "Be ready at all times," says Peter, "to give an account for the hope that is in you." You and I know the God of the universe. Other people don't. They will ask us, "What do you think about what's going on?" And our answer is one of hope, and telling them about Jesus.

 

You know, this Sunday was supposed to be the beginning of promoting our Alpha program for the fall. Somehow that didn't seem appropriate, or the right theme. But when we talk about sharing the hope of Jesus Christ, I can't think of a more effective way to do it. As you have conversations with others, it may well be very natural to say, "You know, I can see these are big questions in your life. At my church we have a series of classes on the basics of Christianity. You'll learn about God, you'll learn about Christians and how we understand these things. Why don't you come with me to our Alpha class?" They'll thank you for it. They won't be embarrassed. They won't be put on the spot. Anybody can come and ask any question.

 

But be ready. Be ready in the coming weeks to share your hope with people who have no hope. As you leave the sanctuary, you'll see some packets--Alpha invitation packets of card and letters that you could give to family and friends--and invite them to our Alpha class that begins in twelve days on Thursday night. You won't regret it. I encourage you to do it.

 

You know, I have learned--as a human being, and as a pastor, and as a sufferer, that there's really only one thing that's guaranteed to happen when people experience a deep loss. And that is, they gain a sense of perspective. You step back from your life and you never look at it the same way again. Even by Tuesday morning at ten o'clock, everyone was saying, "This is a new world we're in." We're sharing a new perspective. We see life differently.

 

The temptation for people of faith is when you experience a deep loss and a tragedy, it's possible to turn one way which says, "That's it. I'm giving up on God. I'm giving up on my faith. I'm going to live life on my own now and I'm in it for myself." The other way is to cling to that faith, and invite God to meet you, and see it as an opportunity to become closer to God. If you're struggling with that, I'd love to talk about it with you. I understand it. I've faced that temptation in my own life.

 

But I want to tell you that the God we know is a God of love, and He's a God of justice, He's a God of hope. He wants to meet each one of us here today and He wants to meet our nation here today, and lead us forward. Let's pray together.

 

Thank you, Lord, for the hope we do have in your Son Jesus. Thank you that we have this hope as an anchor for our souls. I pray that in this time the ropes that hold us to that anchor may be increased in their strength, and that we may be more securely tied to you. I pray for any today here in our sanctuary and in our community who don't know what it is to have hope in the God of the universe as we know Him in Jesus Christ. I pray that you will open the door and fill that life with hope in the person of your Son Jesus. Thank you again for the opportunity to worship you. Thank you for the opportunity to be filled with your presence. In Jesus' name. Amen.

 

Rev. Gary LeTourneau

Senior Pastor

Faith Presbyterian Church

Minnetonka, Minnesota

 

[Transcribed from an audiotape of the 9:00 a.m.worship service on September 16, 2001]

 

 

 

SERMON NOTES

 

 

Heidelberg Catechism

 

Q. 1. What is your only comfort, in life and in death?

 

A. That I belong--body and soul, in life and in death--not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the devil; that he protects me so well that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed,that everything must fit his purpose for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.