I preached on Sunday

Here is my sermon from the 11AM service. It's long, so this is only for the extremely dedicated blog followers. The scripture is Luke 24:36-49.

Our scripture today finds us in the Upper Room. The 11 remaining disciples are gathered together as two of the men tell a fantastic story of walking for several miles with a stranger. This man was a real “know it all.” He talked the whole road about theology and the scriptures and how they related to this man Jesus of Nazareth. Upon arriving in Emmaus these three men sat down to eat dinner. As the stranger broke the bread something clicked in the minds of the other two men and they realized that they were with the risen Christ.

They explained that when they understood … Jesus vanished.

I can see the other disciples, 11 men packed in a secluded room, hiding in fear of the authorities. “If they can kill Jesus without reason, they could kill us for being his followers.” They might have said, or at least thought.

We don’t know if they fully believed that the resurrection had happened. Did they buy the story these two men told? We can imagine their proud thoughts as they doubt the story being told, “If I was with Jesus for a whole day I would recognize him.”

Elvis statistics.
I don’t know if you all know this or not, but some people believe that Elvis Presley is still alive. Some devout followers of this particular king have concocted strange and fanatical tales of a staged death, a midnight flight to Aruba to flee from the mob, and even a comeback tour as a masked singer under a pseudonym. Thousands of people have recorded Elvis sightings. Never mind that hundreds if not thousands of people make a living impersonating Elvis. To the few faithful, every sighting is further confirmation that Elvis is still in the building.

Seeing is believing?

As they finished their strange story, Jesus appeared in the upper room. The disciples were terrified. A ghost. The ghost of Jesus was with them.

Jesus held out his scarred hands and invited them to see and feel for themselves. This was not a ghost, a vision, an apparition. This was Jesus of Nazareth. In the flesh, so to speak. The man they had eaten with on Thursday, the man who died on the cross on Friday, and the man who had been buried in a tomb for 3 days was standing before them.

“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …”
A few months ago, I asked Dr. Ken if I could preach once before I graduate. We picked a date and he gave me some scriptures to use.

As I read each scripture passage I felt more and more encouraged. I would be preaching a sermon on a topic I knew at least a little about: Doubt.

“While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering…”

I’ve never been one of those Christians who has “everything together.”

I’m a devout Christian, a strong, lifelong United Methodist, and a missionary candidate with the General Board of Global Ministries. BUT I’m also scattered on opinions, I question all authority, I argue with God during my prayer times, and I’ve had my fair share of doubts.

“There is more faith, believe me, in honest doubt than half the creeds.” – Tenessee Williams?

I always try to be extremely honest about my doubt. Some days I think about all the suffering in the world and my small brain can’t compute how an all loving God allows even half of it to go on. Some days I doubt the calling God has put on my life. Occasionally I doubt that I’m “missionary material.”

I understand when Luke writes that “While in their joy they were still disbelieving and wondering …” but, this verse continues , “…he said to them, ‘Do you have anything here to eat?”

While they doubt Him – they doubt the reality of his resurrection – he asks for some food. He eats some fish. Jesus proves the most amazing miracle by performing the most mundane task. Jesus showed those men that He rose from the dead by eating a few bites of fish.

Jesus could have used any number of miracles to prove the resurrection. We love miracles. We always have. Jesus gathered large crowds by performing miracles. Today, certain dubious televangelists, use miracles to gather large due paying crowds. And let’s be honest. If someone wheeled down to this altar and Dr. Ken or Pastor Tom healed them miraculously a few more of us might be inclined to leave our comfortable pews and walk the sawdust trail. We love miracles. Flashy lights, a big show. THIS is the proof we desire.

But Jesus doesn’t give us our wish on this occasion. He sits down and eats some fish.

The normalcy, the mundane, the routine. Jesus reveals himself to the two men on the road to Emmaus by breaking bread. He offers his scarred hands, feet, and side as the tangible proof that he isn’t a ghost. He eats a snack to prove his resurrection.

While God is the God of miracles, and signs, and wonders – and I’m convinced we see these things as often as those who lived through the writing of the Bible – God is also the God of the routine. Living and working through the day to day lives of those who follow God’s son, Jesus Christ.

I was talking to a girl in our youth group. She is a gymnast. At 12, she realizes that she will be old enough to qualify for the next Olympic games in London in 2012.

Andrea explained her training to me – She goes to gymnastics practice after school. I asked, “Do you go every day?” She quickly, nonchalantly answered, “No, just Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Oh, and some Saturdays.”

Andrea trains daily because she has a goal. That goal might become an Olympic medal if she continues to train and improve at the same rate.
I will never win an Olympic medal. You will never see this face on a Wheaties box. You might see Andreas.

I asked Andrea how often she falls. Her response … “a lot.”

I’ve never fallen off a balance beam! Andrea has. Now we might conclude from these two facts that I’m a better gymnast. But, we’d be wrong. If you’ve never fallen off a balance beam you’ve never been ON a balance beam.

And this brings us back to doubt and faith. There’s nothing wrong with doubt – if you’re struggling to live out the faith. There’s nothing wrong with falling off the balance beam – if you’re training to be a gymnast. If you’ve never had doubts, the God you’re envisioning isn’t big enough. If you’ve lived a doubt free life you may have lived a faith-free life.

Because I never want to limit God, I will say that there is a remote possibility that God might call me to gymnastics and that I might miraculously win the gold medal. I doubt it though. What is more realistic is that Andrea might keep training, might keep falling off the balance beam, might keep getting back up and getting back on that beam and that she will achieve her goal of becoming a gymnast.

It’s possible that one Sunday morning God will miraculously heal a person through Dr. Ken and revival will break out because of the miracle.

However, it’s much more likely that God will lead a revival through the efforts of a few dozen lay people living out their faith in fairly mundane, normal ways. If we live for Christ, He will use our routine interactions to reveal the greatest truth the world has ever known.

When we sit down to eat a meal with others, when we share our wounds with a friend – Christ will use these normal events to change hearts toward the truth.

After Jesus eats some fish to prove that he is truly flesh and bones, Jesus gives his disciples the Great Commission. This is our communal call as Christians to proclaim the good news “in His name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

This summer, I preached about missions at a camp for Russian United Methodist youth. I told my story of how I became a follower of Christ – and how I found community in the church. I shared stories of my time with you. I told of my loving and gracious Sunday School class who took me in even though I didn’t look or sound like them – of how they furnished my apartment when they found out I didn’t have a bed. I told them that this church rallied behind me in my call to missions and raised more than $3,000 to send me to Russia.

I asked others to share their stories of a loving church. As we gave our accounts, we took up balls of string and circled the congregation of youth. I explained that our church family is like the arms of God wrapping around us. I also explained that sometimes the safety and comfort of those tightly wound arms of love prevent us from going outside of our church family. Like the string surrounding them kept them inside, so too our loving, nurturing congregations can keep us inside these four walls.

I produced 5 pair of scissors. One for each time the great commission is recorded in the gospels and acts. As they read the verses out loud, they cut the strings.

The record of the great commission in Luke is important because it states, “beginning from Jerusalem.” This important city was where they were. Jesus looked at this group of disciples, cowering in the upper room, and told them to leave those four walls behind.

The Great Commission is my favorite sermon to preach. I’m good at it, maybe a little too good. It’s too easy for me to get up in the bully pulpit and declare shame and damnation to all those who won’t go to the ends of the world … like I … Michael Airgood will. I live and breath the great commission – it is literally my bread and butter. So, it’s easy for me to get up in front of people to talk about their sin of not going to Africa. And about my super-human faith that will allow me to get on a plane in 4 short weeks bound for South Korea.

But I don’t believe that everyone is called to Africa, or Asia, or to ever step on a plane. Nor do I believe that I have super-human faith. I’m called to be a missionary and that’s my joy and my struggle. However, I do believe that the Great Commission is for everyone. That we as a community are called to leave these four walls behind.

Mother Teresa might possibly be the greatest example we have a person who truly lived out the Great Commission. There isn’t a list of modern spiritual figures without her name somewhere on it. She left home at a young age to become a missionary nun to the poorest of the poor. She sacrificed. She poured her blood, sweat, and tears into every moment of her ministry.

A few years ago her personal diaries were released to the public. Many were shocked to find that this great woman of faith was full of ordinary doubts. That her mind and her faith had the same doubts that we all share. That she was normal. Human.

(Jackson’s Story)
The Easter when I was 15 was particularly significant. On the Friday before Easter, what we in the Christian faith call “Good Friday,” a call went up from the next town over that a little boy had gone missing.

Jackson was four years old and had been playing at his grandmother’s house before he disappeared. They called for volunteers to come help search for the lost boy and I quickly volunteered. I was friends with the pastor of the United Methodist church in that town, and he made certain that every United Methodist church in the area was mobilized. Hundreds and hundreds of people descended on the small town to help in the search. We searched for hours and hours. We prayed together for a safe return. When night fell the search was called off until the morning. It hit freezing during the night.

In the early morning, when the search was picked back up, all of the volunteers were formed into a grid, so that every square inch for miles would be searched. At some point in the afternoon, the volunteers were informed that we were no longer searching for a lost little boy, but that we were searching for the body of a four year old boy. Some of the less dedicated packed up and went home. A scuba team was brought in to drag a local lake to look for the body. We searched until dark when they called the search off for the second night.

That night, we gathered in the tiny Methodist church for prayer. There weren’t many of us left. Although so many had been enthusiastic at the get go, under the pressure and pain of bad news only a few remained for the search and even fewer felt like praying.

The only pastor in the small town, my friend Marty prayed something to the effect of, “God sometimes we don’t understand, but we still trust you.” It was one of those prayers that is theologically correct, yet entirely empty to pray.

As we were packing up to go home, I talked with Pastor Marty, and he told me with more than a hint of sadness and frustration “now I have to go write my Easter sermon.”

How do you write about the resurrection under those circumstances? How do you preach the good news of Jesus Christ with that weighing on your mind? Marty could have stepped up to the podium that next morning and declared, “It’s all a lie. The resurrection never happened.” And he probably would have heard a few Amen’s.

So when I read this narrative, I remember the time when I experienced the feeling those 12 felt. There were probably fewer than 20 of us left that night, in prayer and confusion, and doubt. Gathered as a group and yet so alone; so very alone.

And then a stranger entered. He was a professional EMT from a city a few hours away who had been brought in to help. The strongest memory in my mind is that he was crying. He opened his mouth and with a booming voice said, “They found Jackson, alive and unhurt.”

That night we rang the church bells for hours. The whole town celebrated. Marty never got around to writing his Easter morning sermon, it had already been preached.

The resurrection a reality

that day

for those people.

No four walls could contain the joy of the resurrection experienced that Easter morning.

Now I’ve covered a lot of ground in this sermon. From Elvis to Mother Teresa to a tiny church with contagious joy over a miracle. There’s a lot to cover when you’re talking about doubt and faith.

The extreme followers of Elvis have a lot of faith – but that doesn’t change the truth, their lives, or the world.

Mother Teresa was full of doubt and faith. At her darkest moments, when her mind was full of nothing but doubt – the Resurrection was still true. And here’s the best part. Because we live in the tension of doubt and faith and because we serve a truly Risen King our lives are changed.

And our changed lives will change the world.


Go forth this day, allowing our joy to break through these four walls, so that we may be the wounded hands, feet, and side of Christ. Allow the doubting, questioning world to touch and feel the reality of our faith. Share a meal with someone who doesn’t know what to think – allow your life, your daily (routine, mundane, normal) life to prove the resurrection of Christ. Allow your changed life to change the world.