Silly question!

You have two friends: one has a headache and the other feels great. Who needs an aspirin?

Silly question!

You have two friends: one of them is hungry and the other is not. Who needs to be invited to dinner?

What's with all the silly questions? Here's a question which is just as silly, but is seldom answered as we know it should be answered:

You have two friends: one is warm and friendly, the other is cold, austere and irritable, a regular "humbug" person. Who needs a hug? Not, Who deserves a hug? Not, Who is fun to hug? Not, Whom do you feel like hugging? Not even, Who will respond to a hug? Who needs a hug?

Now let me ask you, When do you need a hug? When everything is going well, when you feel fine and the world looks bright and beautiful? Or when you're in an ugly mood, when you've made a fool of yourself and you're really hurting?

Have you ever wondered why Jesus spent so much time with society's drop-outs? Do you suppose he found the drunks and prostitutes and jailbirds, the hypochondriacs and sickly characters all that interesting and inspiring? Were the humbugs funbugs? Maybe it was because he found them responsive and appreciative? The street people are the kind of people who really appreciate what folks do for them!

If you believe that, you haven't spent much time at soup-kitchens or clothing centers or warming shelters; or counseling convicts or visiting hospitalized prostitutes or giving to the homeless! Ask those who regularly go to Cass Corridor, to the inner city missions. Several of you have felt literally scared by the rush and rudeness of people who should most appreciate your ministry of food and clothing and personal health items.

Many of them are most ungrateful. In the past few years I have conducted funerals for at least half a dozen prostitutes, another half dozen AIDS victims, quite a few street people. I can't think of any relative who has ever really expressed much gratitude!

Jesus did not help the helpless and the needy for their appreciation, but because they needed help. And Jesus is our example.

Remember the story of the lepers. Jesus healed 10 lepers, but only one stopped and showed appreciation.

Remember that Jesus came not to the righteous, but to sinners; not to the healthy, but to the sick; not to nice, law-abiding citizens, but to criminals and rascals. Few of them became followers. Very few showed up for the crucifixion!

Remember that we are Christ-ians -- "Christ" + "i-a-n," a suffix which denotes "belonging to" or "originating in" or "following."

That means we must reflect the attitudes and attributes of Jesus.

I think it was Augustine who said, "Love, then do as you please." He was saying that if we love as Jesus loved, we will live as Jesus lived. We will do right things not because we are told to, not because we expect a reward, but because we want to, because we will be "doin' what comes naturally"!

Love and servanthood go hand in hand. Again we find the logic of the Kingdom antithetical to the logic of this world.

The world says to stand up for your rights; Jesus says to do twice what you are required to do! The world praises the "free market economy," competition; Jesus taught us to be as interested in the success of others (competitors) as we are in our own success. Jesus says to serve those who cannot repay, love those who are unlovable, care for those who don't even say Thank you.

Now be careful -- Jesus does not put down self confidence. Humility is one thing; failure to use your talents is another. Jesus told a parable about those who don't use their talents!

Let's get back to the theme for today . . . This is Advent, time to sing praises and hallelujahs, time to give gifts to those we love, to hug each other and thank God for each other.

But remember -- this is also the time to worship the baby who came to the poor and the homeless and the sick and the prisoners and the oppressed.

The baby whose parentage was questioned, and whose credentials were questioned, whose crucifixion was more celebrated than was his birth, had time for the "rich and famous," but not much time!

He was up to intelligent dialogue with religious leaders, but he didn't spend much time with them.

Jesus became King of Kings by way of a cross; the Hallelujahs at his "coronation march" became minor-key moans of a funeral dirge. He became our King by first becoming our suffering servant.

And he articulated that principle as a premise of his kingdom. If you want to be first, be last! If you want to be great, become a servant!

Nothing arrogant or wickedly ambitious about wanting to be successful, in life, in your profession, or in ministry for Jesus. We just need to be clear that being successful in ministry for Jesus is not the same as being successful in the eyes of the world. It has nothing whatever to do with names on the church role, money in the bank or adulation of people.

That is a hard lesson to learn. Believe me, that's a hard lesson to learn, especially for preachers!

Remember what we believe and teach: that all Christians are ministers, whether you are a preacher, a teacher, or a faithful visitor, you are a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. Success in ministry is service, servanthood. Materialism is absolutely antithetical to Christianity.

Reward has absolutely nothing to do with motivation in legitimate ministry. If reward is even a subliminal motive, it is not real Christian service. Let me repeat, with all the power I can muster, this is a very hard lesson to learn, that success in our ministry is servanthood. Position, rank, status, title . . . none of those in any way qualify us to be known as Christians, certainly not as ministers for the Kingdom.

Our theme this first week of Advent is HOPE. It is certainly relevant and necessary in our world today.

I am reminded of a Peanuts cartoon in which Lucy encourages Charlie Brown. "Look at it this way, Charlie Brown. These are your bitter days. These are your days of hardship and struggle . . ."

The next frame goes on, ". . . but if you just hold your head up high and keep on fighting, you'll triumph!"

"Gee, do you really think so, Lucy?" Charlie asks.

As she walks away, Lucy mumbles, "Frankly, no!"

Hope is like that. We speak it more often than we really believe it. With the economy as it is, with unemployment as it is, with apprehension about world conditions as it is, with life as it is, it is hard to have hope today.

My friend Dick lost his job. He needs a job! "Don't worry, Dick, you'll soon have another job. God will provide."

"I hope so." My friend Jane has been diagnosed with leukemia. "Don't worry, Jane. The doctor told you it is the easiest type of leukemia to treat. You're going to be alright."

"I hope so."

My friend Olan is in the midst of a divorce. "Don't worry, Olan. With your talent and personality, you'll make it."

"I hope so."

Sometimes, hope has more to do with wishing than with expecting. It almost has the sound of resignation, an inability to bring about a goal. "I hope so" almost has the same negative tone as does the sarcastic, "Yea, sure . . ." We often say "Well, I hope so" with more resignation and helplessness than with excitement and expectation.

On a spring day in 1968 there was a conference at Duke University: "Theology of Hope." The keynote speaker was Harvey Cox of Harvard. He had just published his book The Secular City, in which he proposed that we have come of age; a great new era was dawning, the cities of America would soon break forth into spontaneous joy and love.

As Cox completed his inspiring lecture, someone came to the platform and announced that Martin Luther King, Jr. had just been murdered. Can you imagine how hopeful those people felt -- especially the black people present?

Paul told the Corinthians, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."

Given our understanding of the word, some may ask, "Is hope all we have? Hope doesn't put food on the table."

But our hope is different. Praise God for this Advent season, as we rejoice in the coming of a Savior. Isaiah says, "The Root of Jesse will spring up, one who will arise to rule over the nations; the Gentiles will hope in him." Then Paul admonished the Roman church to "rejoice in the hope of the glory of God." He also told them: "For in this hope we were saved." And apropos this season: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

He wrote to the Christians at Thessalonica of the "hope of salvation" which is our helmet in the armor of God. To the Colossians he wrote of the "hope laid up in heaven."

Particularly today, with our Psalm as positive as it is, with our Old Testament prophecy of the "last days," with our Epistle promise that "the night is nearly over; the day is almost here," and our Gospel encouragement that "you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him," our hope is rekindled. What encouragement! And what a challenge! To maintain our hope in a violent society, to maintain our hope in an evil world, to maintain our hope in a world where 12 million children die every year of preventable causes, to maintain our hope in a world where the rich get richer by the day -- at the expense of the poor, to maintain our hope in a hopeless world . . .

Hope -- like the lady who was reading her Bible, when the preacher walked by, and asked, "What are you reading?"

"The book of Revelation."

"That's a pretty complicated book. Do you understand it?"

"O yes," she answered.

"Well, what does it say?"

"Preacher, it's very simple. It says Jesus wins!"

The early church lived with the conviction that Jesus would return in a matter of days, or weeks, or months. Paul never expected to die. Nor did the believers of The Way. But that was 2,000 years ago. So how do we read our Bible today? "The night is nearly over; the day is almost here."

How does that impact on your mind, on your hope?

Some of my fundamentalist friends ask why I no longer preach very much about prophecy and the signs of the times. Don't I believe in the soon Second Coming? Don't I think it is important to get ready to meet Jesus, and to tell others of the importance of being prepared?

Yes, I do believe in the Second Coming of Jesus. Yes, I believe it is important to get ready to meet him, to "be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him."

To put the hope of the Second Coming into proper context, the context of society, world conditions, human needs and the the ministry example of Jesus, I am committed to hug as many humbugs as I can. I am determined to let my light shine as brightly as I can. I am resolved to be as salty as I can to make this a more palatable world.

It is by making this present world better that I am indeed preparing for a world to come.

If I live to see Jesus come "at an hour when you do not expect him" I want to be busy doing the kind of work Jesus did when he walked the earth.

How different would you live if you expected the unexpected? How would you say goodbye to your mate when you leave on a trip if you expected an accident might take your life? How much would you give to charity if you expected to die before night? Just how important would you consider your bank balance, in juxtaposition to the needs of our mission program, if you expected to have a heart attack tonight?

Of course we don't expect the unexpected. Which is precisely why Jesus said, "at an hour when you do not expect him." And that is precisely why Jesus told, in our Gospel lesson today, all about the days of Noah and the society in which he lived.

And that is why Jesus said, "Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left."

I am sorry, by the way, that some have based a whole theological premise on a literal interpretation of that parable. You have heard about the "Left Behind" books and movies. They are based on a very strained exegesis of a single text taken completely out of context.

A man stopped to eat breakfast in a diner. It was cold. A stranger, neatly dressed in a suit which was threadbare, walked into the diner, spoke to the manager, then walked toward the door. The man said to the stranger, "Would you like some breakfast?"

The stranger looked at him, and answered, "If you please." So the man tossed two quarters on the table. The stranger studied the menu for something he could get for 50 cents.

The man attended a meeting that afternoon, and chanced to look up at a picture of Jesus on the wall. He was shocked. It was the face of the man to whom he had given two quarters for breakfast. It did not resemble the man, it was he! It was the very face he had seen in the diner. The man excused himself from the meeting and made his way back to town, trembling.

He tried to find the "homeless" man to whom he had given a very cheap breakfast. I'll let him tell you the rest:

"I wanted to find him. I looked in all the places where the homeless gathered. But I never found him or saw him again. I was left to ponder Jesus having come again, hungry, and the best I could do was to give him 50 cents! I'm sorry I did not do better."

Hope! Just east of Tel Aviv is the city of Petah Tikwa, "The Door of Hope." The name comes from Hosea 2:15, "There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt."

Advent is not only preparation for the celebration of the birth of Baby Jesus. It is also preparation to meet Jesus when he comes with his perfect Kingdom. During Advent we celebrate his coming -- past, present and future.

To demythologize Advent and Christmas is to renew the reality of the incarnation. Jesus came once; he will come again. Indeed, he has never left. He is the poor homeless stranger who had a 50-cent breakfast. He is part of the the family in Cass Corridor to whom you took health kits last week. He is a lonely old man lying in a nursing home, waiting for you to visit. He is the hurting, discouraged, depressed neighbor awaiting a word of love and comfort from you. He is the thirsty one waiting for you to offer a cup of cold water.

You may be hurting today. You may be discouraged. You may be depressed. We remember Martin Luther as a great Reformer. He was! But he was also a man of much suffering, many doubts.

He once wrote, "[Without] trials . . . man can neither know scripture and faith, nor can he fear and love God. If he has never suffered, he cannot understand what hope is."

You and I know it isn't easy to love the unlovely. We all know it isn't easy to give to the ungrateful. It isn't easy to hug a humbug! To be a true servant of others -- just for the love of serving -- is only possible thru the conversion experience of unconditional love, altruism.

During this Advent season, as we contemplate the coming of Jesus into this world, let's concentrate on his reason for coming, on what he did while he was here, and on what he commissioned us to do as his representatives . . . not in terms of this world's criteria, but in terms of his!

Let us love the unlovable, feed the unappreciative, serve a measure of hope to the undesirable, hug the unhuggable humbugs.

On the wall in my office you have seen a felt pennant which sums up our commission, and gives substance to our hope.

God will not look you over

for Medals,

Degrees, or Diplomas,

but for

Scars.

Today I recommit myself to that noble challenge. Will you join me?

Let us pray . . .

"Lord Jesus Christ, you are the light of the world. Fill our souls with your peace, fill our minds with your truth; fill our hearts with your love."