About Being "Born Again"

John 3:1-15

Can you believe it?  In less than two weeks the election will be over.  It sometimes seems as if the campaigning has been going on since the day after the inauguration.

Once again religion has been an issue in the discussion.  And no wonder.  For perhaps the first time in modern American history we know that both major candidates hold views that are at great variance with historic Christianity.

Despite the fact the Constitution forbids using a “religious test” to determine who may serve as president, most Americans have commonly been either curious or concerned about the religious view of our presidents.

When Thomas Jefferson was elected, many residents of New England hid their Bibles because they feared he would order them confiscated. 

Voters were concerned Abraham Lincoln had no formal association with any church.  The most he did to calm their fears was to assure them he believed in the Almighty.  I am among those who believe Lincoln was converted in the White House.  Though, I’m not sure how reliable the story is that he planned to make a profession of faith on Easter 1865.  That never happened because he was assassinated on Good Friday.

Religion didn’t always play a role in the campaigns but some of our presidents had closer connections to the church than others.  James Garfield had been a lay preacher in the Disciples of Christ. 

William McKinley’s mother had wanted him to become a minister and was still disappointed even after he was elected president.  By the way, McKinley’s opponent in both the 1896 and 1900 elections, Democrat William Jennings Bryan, would eventually become the voice of fundamentalism in the Scopes Trial. 

Some of you will remember how John Kennedy’s religion was an issue in his campaign.  Many feared the Vatican would have too much influence should a Roman Catholic be elected.

During his first campaign for the presidency, Jimmy Carter captured national attention by his claim to have been “born again.”  Some say he was the first president to ever make the claim.  A Baptist, Carter may not have known the phrase was unfamiliar to many Americans.  If so, it wasn’t unfamiliar for long.  It seems like everyone was soon talking about the phrase that has its roots in this passage.

But that doesn’t mean everyone understood.

One morning a woman answered the doorbell of her suburban home to find a man dressed in well-worn work clothes.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” he said, “but I’m out of work and I was wondering if you have any jobs I could do.”

The woman asked, “What kind of work can you do?”

“Most anything,” the man said, “but I’m pretty good with a paint brush.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” the woman said, “There’s a porch around back that needs painting.  My husband and I just bought some paint and brushes and we were going to look around for someone to do the work.  Since you’re here, I’ll pay you to paint it.”

So, the man took the paint and brushes and headed to the back of the house.  A couple hours later he rang the doorbell again. 

“Finished already,” the woman asked.

“Yes, and I think you’ll like it,” the man answered.  “But there’s just one thing, that’s not a Porsche, that’s a Mercedes.

It’s always important we’re speaking the same language.

Hearing a lot about something doesn’t always mean we understand it.  Since this story Jesus and Nicodemus suggests it’s important to understand what it means to be born again, I’m going to try to clarify the term.

What does it mean to be born again?

Being born again is not being religious.

Many born again people are religious but not every religious person is born again.

John describes Nicodemus as “a man of the Pharisees.”  In first-century Judea, you didn’t get much more religious than that.   Many people saw the Pharisees as spiritual heroes.  Yet, Jesus told him he had to be born again.  You need to appreciate just how that hit Nicodemus.

Jews reserved the term “reborn” for the Gentiles who chose to embrace Judaism.  Nicodemus would have heard Jesus saying, “You—a ruler of Israel and a Pharisee—must regard first yourself as one outside God’s Kingdom if you would enter God’s Kingdom.”

Jesus was telling Nicodemus, no matter how often you attend the synagogue, no matter how much you pray, no matter how strict your diet, no matter how much scripture you can quote, you must be born again.

American evangelist Sam Shoemaker once said, "It is sadly possible to 'ooze into church membership', without a personal relationship with God"[1]

According to George Barna, a researcher who has explored every aspect of American church life, about four out of every ten adults who regularly attend church claim to have never been “born again.” 

You need more than a place regularly reserved on a pew to be born again.

Being born again is not admiring Jesus.

Did you hear what Nicodemus said to Jesus?  He said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.”  You have to appreciate what he is saying.  Jesus had critics from almost the beginning of his ministry yet Nicodemus was ready to acknowledge there was something worthwhile in Jesus ministry.

That kind of flattery could turn a person’s head.  Coming from a highly respected religious leader, Jesus could have easily said, “Well, this fellow obviously gets it.  He’s tuned in to what God is doing.”

It wasn’t enough to admire Jesus, Nicodemus needed to be born again.

Did you see the recent story about Anne Rice?  If you don’t know her, Anne Rice is a novelist.  Her books may not be for everyone.  You see, Anne Rice was writing about vampires before vampires were cool.  Her 1976 book Interview with the Vampire was a bestseller and was eventually made into a film.

In 2005, Rice announced she had embraced faith in Jesus.  She even began writing a series of novels based on his life.  In 2010, she said she no longer considered herself part of Christianity; she was simply a follower of Jesus.  Then, in September of this year (2012), she said she had abandoned even her faith in Christ.

It’s hard to know why some people make decisions like this.  I may be wrong but I strongly suspect Rice had a few years of simply admiring Jesus, not that she had been born again.

Admiring Jesus is fine, completely understandable.  But many millions around the world admire him without being born again.

Being born again is not self-improvement.

In Luke 11, we find one of Jesus’ strangest parables.  He said,

“When an evil spirit leaves a person, it goes into the desert, searching for rest. But when it finds none, it says, ‘I will return to the person I came from.’
      So it returns and finds that its former home is all swept and in order.
Then the spirit finds seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they all enter the person and live there. And so that person is worse off than before.”

 

I think Jesus is saying this is what happens when we reinvent ourselves.  Sometimes by the power of our own will we can overcome bad habits, change behavior, and seemingly be reborn.  But Jesus says there is still a problem.  We are still empty on the inside. As a result we may be “worse off than before” because our new and improved self becomes proud of what we have accomplished, disdainful of those struggling with problems because they are so obviously weaker than we are, blind to problems that were not on the surface of our character.

Jesus easily could have told Nicodemus to embark on a self-improvement course.  He could have told the Pharisee to fast a couple more times each month, to add a half percent or so to his tithe, to pray a little longer each day.  That might have enhanced Nicodemus’ reputation with the other Pharisees but it really wouldn’t have dealt with the problem that brought him to Jesus that night.

He needed to be born again and that was something no self-improvement program could produce.

Being born again is the experience of a life-giving transformation God works in our lives.

            What Jesus says to Nicodemus could be translated, “You must be born again from above.”   That shows that the act of being “reborn” doesn’t come from our own efforts or by releasing our own inner goodness.  Being reborn, as Jesus means it, is an act of God within us.
            Jesus’ simple picture of the way the wind works is a simple analogy of what happens as God’s Spirit brings about spiritual rebirth in our lives.  We see the leaves of a tree move, we here the rustle of those leaves, we may even see a leaf fall from the tree—all the while knowing we are seeing the work of the invisible wind.  At the same time, when we are born again we see our motivations change, we see our temperament become more mellow, we see the chains of our old habits broken, we see ourselves become less self-centered, we develop a new vision for serving God—all the while knowing that this transformation, this rebirth, is being accomplished by God’s Spirit.  It is nothing we could accomplish on our own.

When God works in our lives he gives us what wasn’t there before.  He gives us life.  We cannot produce that on our own.

Among the items we’ve collected over the years are some lovely little marble eggs.  They are the size and shape of chicken eggs but they are made of marble.  But they are much more colorful; they’re pink, blue, and green—not white or brown.  Yet, if you could persuade a hen to sit on one of these eggs she would sit there for weeks and nothing would happen.  Oh, it would be warm, and if it were among real hen eggs it would eventually be surrounded by chicks.  But it would never hatch.  Why not?  It has no life in it.

We can never experience the reality of being born again unless we have life given us by God.

Apart from that life there is only death.  John’s comment on this episode includes some of the Bible’s most famous words.

God loved the world this way: He gave his only Son so that everyone who believes in him will not die but will have eternal life.
God sent his Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but to save the world.
Those who believe in him won’t be condemned. But those who don’t believe are already condemned because they don’t believe in God’s only Son

When we hear Jesus’ call to be born again, we receive eternal life.  When we turn a closed ear to Jesus’ call, we are condemned.  But that doesn’t have to be.  Jesus wouldn’t have said “you must be born again” if there weren’t a God guaranteed offer of new life.  With that guarantee comes a God’s promise to remain so close to us that we may be said to be “filled” with his Spirit.

Rather than seeking to populate Hell with as many people as possible, God devised and implemented the only escape plan.  Because God's character demands it, He must judge; but he would prefer to show mercy.  Ronald Youngblood says, "Judgment is never God's last or best word to those who believe in him, because 'mercy triumphs over judgment'' (James 2:13). God's love was not limited by culture, race, or geographical boundaries.  His desire to save was extended to the entire world.  He did not simply love the lovely people of the world; he loved all the people of the world.  That love prompted an act of radical sacrifice.  Jesus’ death on the cross makes possible our new life.

Trusting Christ is that way to that new life, the way to being born again.

Those words of Jesus, “You must be born again,” echo down the centuries.

Jesus’ words reflect a heavenly imperative.  Jesus did not say to the man who would have been considered a spiritual giant among the Jews, “You should consider being born again.”  He said, “You must be born again.”  It was nonnegotiable.  In light of this we can’t say, “Six out of ten people who attend church will go to heaven because they have been born again, the other four will go to heaven some other way.”  We don’t have that option.  Whether they go to church or not, everyone who hopes for salvation must be born again.

Your hope of real life beyond death depends on your hearing Jesus’ call: You must be born again.

As I close this sermon, I want to speak to those who have never had this experience.  I want to offer you an opportunity to let me lead you in a prayer for spiritual rebirth, a prayer to be born again.  If this is an experience you want to be yours, pray this prayer with me.

Dear God,

I admit I need to be born again,

My life needs the “life” you give,

The life I can’t produce on my own.

I ask for that new life based on Jesus’ own promise.

I pray that as one who has been ‘born again’

I might experience a new relationship with you,

enjoy being part of a new family made up of all those

who have been born again by your power,

and

face the future with a new purpose and hope

that comes from knowing you have given me

eternal life.

I pray for this in the Name of Jesus.

Amen.

 

If you prayed this prayer, tell someone about it.  Tell a pastor, tell a Christian friend.  You might even consider coming this morning and telling those gathered here about your decision.

Tell someone you responded when you heard Jesus say, “You must be born again.”

 

 

 

 

 

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[1]  Quoted by John Cooney, Exploring Christianity.

Who Is Wise?

  

            James became a believer after the first Easter.  Throughout the ministry of Jesus he appears to have been a skeptic—and who could really blame him. He had a relationship with Jesus that was unlike that of the Twelve.   He was the brother of Jesus, raised in the same household.  But somehow the skeptic became a believer—perhaps he had been convinced by the Resurrection.

In any case he became a Christian and leader in the church.  Early in the 40s James wrote to the churches he cared for.  These Christians were facing trial, problems living in a world where there was major economic disparity, confusion about the kind of leaders they should follow.  He produced what is sometimes called as “essay-letter,” a document that sometimes seems like a letter and sometimes seems like an essay.  He wrote to give these Christians practical insight into their faith.

 

James 3:13-18

It is the dream of many to somehow return to the simple days of early Christianity.  In their minds, that primitive church was free of the problems plaguing today’s churches.  James reminds us that sometimes the good-old –days weren’t. 

Scarcely a decade after the first Easter, James was dealing with a church in trouble.  While later writers would have to deal with churches facing great challenges to proper doctrine, James was writing to congregations wrestling with how to demonstrate their faith daily.  While there were Gentile believers in the 40s, James seems to be focused on churches where the Christians are chiefly from a Jewish background.  While that fact helps us understand why James wrote as he wrote, it by no means suggests we have escaped the same problems they faced.

With that in mind, let’s look at the tough question James raises, “Who is really wise?”

James begins his answer with a general statement that we might paraphrase something like this, “So, you believe you’re wise, well prove it!”  Wisdom was a goal in many ancient cultures and some modern cultures.  In the Old Testament there are several writings that are collectively referred to as “Wisdom Literature.”  This would include Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes.   James understood that wisdom involves a proper understanding of God, ourselves, and our relationship with others.  Whether we are wise or not is seen in our behavior.

Looking at the congregations he cared so much about, James had reason to wonder just how much real wisdom was at work in their lives, especially in the lives of their leaders.

James wrote to churches filled with bickering and a partisan spirit.  It’s hard to know just how many factions existed in these churches but you can be sure each one believed it had the corner on truth, piety, and morality.

Years ago, when we lived in New Orleans, Pat taught at a middle school on the city’s west bank.  Most of the youngsters came from the massive projects that loomed nearby.  Well, one girl discovered that Pat was Baptist and she announced she was Baptist too.  So, Pat asked, “What church do you attend?”

The girl responded, “I attend the Sanctified Baptist Church.”

“I’ve not heard of that church,” Pat said, “how is it different than Southern Baptist churches?”

Without a hint of irony, the girl answered, “I guess we’re just more sanctified.”

Each of the factions in the churches James wrote probably thought it was “more sanctified.”

This is why James so quickly introduces the issue of humility.  As one translation puts it, “Wise people aren’t proud when they do good works.”  Humility is the cure for the party spirit, that tendency to think our group is just better, smarter, more attuned to what God has in mind.  Humility is hard to attain and harder still to hold on to.  After all, once we're convinced we have it, we start to lose it.  Someone has said, "We ought to always pray for humility but never thank God for answering our prayer."

Because so many lacked basic humility in James’s churches, he was concerned for their spiritual well-being.  As James analyzed this situation he seems to have realized this partisan spirit may have been rooted in what he describes as “bitter jealousy.”  This kind of bitterness may prompt a person to one of two courses; this bitter jealousy inspires behavior that may be self-destructive or other destructive.  Of course, many people take pathways somewhere along the line between the extremes.   

For some, bitterness prompts them to withdraw and sulk.

This bitter Christian either stays home literally or rarely mingles with others.  Should they come to church, they just observe and fume.

They remind me of something I read recently.  The writer said the bitter person is like someone who drinks a bottle of poison and sits down to wait for someone else to die.

We’ve all known such people and they are miserable.  The irony is the objects of their bitterness are often unaware and untouched by their animosity.

James seems to be addressing the other kind of bitter Christian. 

Their bitterness prompts destructive behavior.  They can’t or won’t keep quiet about their anger and you can’t reason them out of it.  They set out to be hurtful and harmful; as James says, “they cause trouble and do all sorts of cruel things.”  They leave anarchy in their wake.  Nothing they do, no matter how much they may think otherwise, produces any good.  Ultimately they are destructive.  How can this be?  Aren’t these folks Christian?

Here’s how James describes the dynamics behind their behavior.  His description is startling.

1) It may be seen as “earthly.”  Even if the person manifesting this jealous envy should be a pillar of the church, the attitude is far from heavenly.  The nicest thing James says is that it is “earthly.” Being born again, being converted, being saved—almost any metaphor you may use for the spiritual transformation we have in Christ suggests we ought to experience an attitude adjustment in our hearts and minds.  We ought to have a heavenly way of thinking.  Bitterness, jealousy, and self-centeredness prove we don’t.

After describing this thinking as “earthly,” James seems to have stopped his pen a moment and thought, “It gets worse.”

2)  It may be seen as “unspiritual.”  The word is translated different ways:  “natural,” “selfish,” and “unspiritual.”  But the Amplified Version offers a suggestive translation, saying this attitude is “animal.”  Picture a couple dogs fighting over a few scraps of garbage.  Often it doesn’t matter if they are well-fed and healthy.  Rosie wants that bread crust not so much because she’s hungry but because she doesn’t want Molly to have it.  And she’s willing to bite for it.

3)  It may be seen as “demonic.” 

James may be speaking of its source.  It is actually prompted by Satan.  Or he may be speaking of its character; he may be saying it is the kind of attitude you’d expect from demons.

It any case, what James says should have shaken his readers, should have forced them to reassess their claims. 

If those infected with this kind of bitterness are unrestrained, the outcome is a Christian fellowship in disruption.  The church loses its impact and potential to make a difference.

*******

Before I move on to the antidote James proposes, allow me to offer to say something about challenges we sometimes face in our churches.

 I’ve spent my life in the church and over the years I’ve discovered the church has some blind spots.  Here’s one that is a special problem for our Baptist churches.  We don’t know how to handle those who are emotionally or psychologically ill.  Some of those infected with “bitter jealousy” are wounded; some are wounded worse than others, some wounds are more superficial; some are aware of their wounds, some have not even noticed they’re bleeding. 

I wouldn’t suggest our churches try to cure these wounded souls—at least on our own—but we need be aware they may do damage unless we keep a watchful eye.  They’re not to be numbered among those James is describing but the harm they do may be the same. 

The antidote for this kind of “bitter jealousy” is the same as the antidote for the jealousy that James calls “earthly, unspiritual, and demonic.” 

Real “wisdom,” is the wisdom that “comes from above.”  James is describing a mindset, an attitude, a perspective that has its source in heaven.  Years later Paul will write of the “fruit of the Spirit” changing a person’s character;  almost certainly James has the same thought in mind—only God can infuse us with a state of mind that reshapes our character.

Here’s how he describes it.

1) The truly wise are marked by a character that is “pure.”

I think James pictures a character marked by unmixed motives in our words and actions.  This is probably one of the most difficult qualities any of us might pursue.  It certainly counters any behavior that is self-centered or deceitful.

2) The truly wise are marked by a character that is “peace-loving.”

A person with this quality has a disposition that seeks peace.  It isn’t that foolish and escapist demeanor that seeks peace at any price.  Instead, it is a friendly spirit that models what Paul describes in Romans 12:  “Do your best to live at peace with every one, though you know that isn’t always possible.”

3)  The truly wise are marked by a character that is “gentle” or “considerate.”

Those demonstrating the attitude James found so out of place in the church would have never demonstrated gentleness toward others.   Those touched by God’s Spirit won’t run roughshod over others; self-centeredness isn’t part of their demeanor.

4)  The truly wise are marked by a character that is “compliant.”

This is a difficult idea to express.   This is the only place the Greek word is found in the New Testament.   It doesn’t mean we ought to be so pliable that people can force us to act against our will. The basic idea is probably that we shouldn’t be “hard to get along with.” 

5)  The truly wise are marked by a character that is “kind.”

Unlike the ravaging animals that James just described, those who are infused with this true wisdom stand ready to act compassionately toward others.

6)  The truly wise are marked by a character that is “genuine” and “sincere.”

That person with true wisdom is the real deal.  James is saying that anyone who lives by this real wisdom never makes anyone worry about what they’re up to.  They are transparent.  When they claim to be wise, people believe it.  Funny thing is they’re not likely to make the claim.

 

Conclusion

The product of this kind of life is implied in the proverb James ends with:  “a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace. “

Some scholars believe they were words James learned from Jesus—his brother.

James understood that the truly wise were healers.  They did not tear apart the fabric of Christian fellowship to promote themselves.  Instead, they built up others, sought harmony, and encouraged unity among fellow kingdom builders.

During Billy Graham’s Greater Boston Crusade in 1950, a staff member of Dr Harold John Okenga’s Park Street Church opened the pastor’s door without knocking.  He was stunned to see Dr Okenga stretched out on the floor with a small rug pulled over his head.  He rightly assumed the pastor was praying for the crusade.

Okenga had worked hard to persuade the churches of Boston to invite the young evangelist to the city.  Graham’s Los Angeles Crusade that had catapulted him to national fame had occurred only three years before.  As a leader of the Evangelical movement, Okenga supported Billy’s ministry and believed he had a message for the people of New England.

Graham had great success in Boston.  The Catholic bishop befriended him.  Billy was invited to speak at Harvard.  Thousands trusted Christ.

Years later Okenga explained what he was praying about that morning in his office.  He confessed that he had been struggling with jealousy.  In a city of intellectuals, this scholar-pastor had been working hard to reach people.  Now a southern farm-boy was reaching those he had failed to reach.

He said that he realized he had to get the feelings under control.  So he prayed for God’s power to deal with his jealousy.  God answered the prayer.

James knew that the transforming power of God was the only power that could erase the bitter jealousy in the human heart and fill it with true wisdom.

 

Who Are We? We Are Saints

 

Talking about our identity as saints is controversial; or, at least it makes some Christians uncomfortable.   Some modern translations avoid the term.  In truth, it is a beautiful word describing both a reality and possibility.

Romans 1:1, 7

I want to begin this morning by telling you a little something about “Saint” Arthur.  Now, you will not find this Arthur listed in any catalog of saints and not simply because he was a Protestant.  I’m telling you about him because I want to help you shift the way you think about saints.

Arthur became a Christian when he was a young man.  At about the same time, he began to dream of building a successful business, of producing a product that would be superior to any similar product on the market.  So, while still a young man, in the eighteenth century, he set out to build his business.

As I said, Arthur was a Christian, a Christian who was influenced by the Evangelical Awakening and especially the preaching of John Wesley.  As a consequence, Arthur believed his business ought to reflect his Christian principles.  And, so it did, from the very beginning.

He provided his employees with a decent, fair wage.  As soon as he was able, he provided them with low-cost housing.  Some of those houses still stand today.  He provided doctors when they were sick and nurses to teach the wives good health practices.  He provided training for the men, even though he knew some might take their new skills and work for others. 

Caring for its employees remained the hallmark of Arthur’s business.  In fact, more than a century later, at the beginning of World War I, Arthur’s business made the promise that any employee who fought for the country would find his job waiting when he returned. And, while the husbands were away, Arthur’s company paid their families half their regular salary.

Some of Arthur’s descendants followed him in the business.  Others entered public service.  And several other descendants became missionaries, evangelists, theologians, and Christian writers.  In fact, Arthur’s descendants are still writing popular Christian books today.

A few years ago, Arthur’s business was sold to a conglomerate.  Yet, Saint Arthur’s name and product are still known worldwide.  In fact, I would guess even among the most committed of tee-totaling Baptists, there are many who would recognize the name Guinness.

As I said, I wanted to introduce Arthur Guinness, Christian and brewer, because I want you to begin to think differently about saints.

To do this, I need to deal with a couple more issues before I go on explaining what I mean when I say "We are saints."

àWhen I say "We are saints" I am not referring to our having the endorsement of any human agency.

For many, speaking of saints calls to mind the practice of the Roman Catholic Church in declaring certain individuals to be saints.  It is a practice that made the Protestant reformers very uneasy and most of them opposed it, though they often continued to refer to certain individuals as "Saint," perhaps out of habit.

I don't want to rehash the old arguments but let me try to put the discussion in context.

I think the practice of declaring some to be saints reflected the very human need for heroes and heroines.  The earliest saints were from among those whose commitment to Christ was so intense that it was exemplary.  They became heroic models for other Christians.  These heroes were remembered when certain tough times or temptations were faced.  There may be questions about whether some of these saints actually existed and there are certainly questions about the miracles attributed to these saints. But—real or not—they played an important role.

We can understand the need for heroes.  Looking ahead a few weeks, can you imagine our promoting the Southern Baptist Financial Drive for International Missions?

No, we promote the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.  Lottie gives a face and a name to the cause of missions. 

We recall her as the genteel southern girl who abandoned a comfortable life for the harshness of the mission field.  We tell of her giving cookies and the gospel to the children of China.  We may even praise her for ending her engagement to Crawford Toy, a one-time Southern Seminary professor whose views were contrary to orthodox Christianity. We recount how, broken in health, she died alone on board the ship that was to bring her back home. We admire her for all these things.

Alongside Spurgeon, Carey, and some others we think of Lottie as a kind of Baptist "saint" but not even the most ardent WMU lady prays to her.  

Here's where the reformers had to break with the cult of the saints. They couldn't accept that prayers might be directed to any other than God.   They certainly couldn’t accept the notion that we ought to ask the saint to go to God on our behalf since God would be more inclined to listen to the saint than to listen to us.

At the same time they couldn’t accept what came to be known as “the treasury of merit.”  According to this notion, the saints lived such holy lives they accumulated more merit or good works than they actually needed to secure salvation.  Crudely put, as the ordinary Christian understood the idea, this excess merit was held in an account that might be drawn on by those who needed help.  Indulgences were a chief vehicle for tapping into this account.  Opposing such indulgences played a major role in Luther’s early efforts to promote reform.  

In fairness, I should say the Roman church has revised its view of the treasury of merit so it has a much less crass implication.  Still, most Protestants remain uneasy about the idea in any form.               

àThen, when I say, “we are saints” I am not saying we have attained near spiritual and moral perfection.   

The legends growing up around the saints stress their unshakable virtue.     Consider the example of the Welsh Saint Winifred.   Wishing to live a life of celibacy, she refused the advances of a would-be suitor.  Angered, he decapitated her.  But Winifred was so pure her uncle was able to reattach her head and she lived on as a devout nun for many years. 

David Foster Estes says this concept of the saints as moral giants obscures the New Testament understanding of saintship.     It certainly makes it difficult to promote the notion that every believer is a saint, according to the Bible.  Yet, that is how the term is used in the New Testament.  Every believer is a saint.

Martin Luther, who was a theological realist if ever there was one, understood this was puzzling to those sincere Christians who were aware of their faults.  He summed up the Scripture’s teaching in a simple phrase that is often cited:  Luther said every Christian is “simul Justus et peccator.”   It means every Christian is “a saint and a sinner.”                                                              

This is not an excuse for Christians to ignore the Bible’s call to live in purity, but it reminds us that our failures do not cancel out our identity.  Perhaps the most vivid demonstration of this is found in Paul’s greeting to the Corinthians in his first letter to that church with so many problems.  It was divided, proud, unloving, confused, to name just a few of its faults.  Yet, Paul addressed the church as “those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours.“ ^[1]

So, what do I mean when I say “we are saints?”

When I say “we are saints” I am saying we are a people with a God-given identity.

God has bestowed upon us an identity we could never gain by our own efforts.

When Paul says the Romans were “called to be saints,” he is suggesting they were constituted as saints by the action of God on their behalf.  The word saint comes from the same word as holy, that which is set apart for God’s use.  God has consecrated us to be his.

In the Old Testament the furnishings, vessels, and implements of the Tabernacle and Temple were said to be “holy” or “set apart” for God.  This wasn’t because of something innate in the wood, silver, gold, or fabric; it was because God had endowed them with that quality.

That passage from First Corinthians I just quoted contains the same idea.  Paul said the Corinthians (and all believers everywhere for that matter) were “sanctified in Christ Jesus.”  That is what made them and us “saints.” We are saints because we are in Christ; not in Christ because we are saints.

We are saints because of God’s doing, not our own. 

When I say “we are saints” I am saying we are a people with a holy ambition.

Though we become saints in the moment we trust Christ, it takes time to become saintly.

As saints, our holy ambition is to become what we are. 

Perhaps this is the time to mention the distinction between our standing and our state.  Were I preaching this sermon at the beginning of the second decade of the twentieth century, many of you would have heard what I’m about to say.  Now, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, the ideas are not so familiar.

By “standing” I mean our relationship with God established through our faith in Christ.  Because we have trusted Christ, there is a sense that when God looks at us he sees only Jesus Christ.  As the hymn suggests: “dressed in his righteousness alone,” we are “faultless to stand before the throne.”  The hymn reflects what Paul says about Christ’s work in our lives.  He described it in Colossians 1:22, “[God] has reconciled you to himself through the death of Christ in his physical body. As a result, he has brought you into his own presence, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before him without a single fault.” 

While I by no means agree with everything he wrote, C. I. Scofield speaks beautifully of this distinction.  Here’s what he says about our standing: "The weakest person, if he be but a true believer on the Lord Jesus Christ, has precisely the same title as the most illustrious saint"   In God’s eyes, because we are in Christ, we are perfect before him.

Yet, there is another reality, isn’t there?  Chris Rice, borrowing a phrase from Robert Robinson’s hymn, writes:

On the surface not a ripple
Undercurrent wages war
Quiet in the sanctuary
Sin is crouching at my door
How can I be so prone to wander
So prone to leave You?

We are prone to wander.  Because of this our “state” may not match our “standing.”  Our standing reflects our spiritual condition in heaven; our state reflects our spiritual condition in this world.  Here we may be so fearful of the culture’s criticism we fail to live openly for Christ, so caught up in other matters that we become virtually indifferent to the cause of the Kingdom, we may even live in disobedience because we resisting temptation is too much bother.  Scofield again speaks to this situation.

"A prince, while he is a little child, is presumably as willful and as ignorant as other little children. Sometimes he may be very obedient and teachable and affectionate, and then he is happy and approved. At other times he may be unruly, self-willed, and disobedient, and then he is unhappy, and perhaps is chastised—but he is just as much a prince on the one day as on the other. It may be hoped that, as time goes on, he will learn to bring himself into willing and affectionate subjection to every right way, and then he will be more princely, but not more really a prince. He was born a prince"

 

We are saints but don’t always behave like saints.  So, we are sometimes miserable, guilt-ridden, chastised, joyless. 

What’s the remedy?  How can our standing and our state approach parity?  How can we saints become more saintly?

If we want to become who we are:

We should stand ready to hear God speak to us through his word.  Paul told Timothy, “All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work.”  The writer of the longest psalm, Psalm 119, a song of praise to God’s Word, asks and answers a key question: “How can young persons keep their lives pure? They can do it by holding on to your word.”

We should stand ready to truly participate in fellowship with God’s people. You’ve heard this before but it doesn’t hurt to repeat it. The writer of Hebrews warned wavering Christians, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”  The Creed says “I believe in …the communion of saints” because its anonymous composers understood the importance of Christian fellowship.  We need each other to help us keep on course, to inspire us to aspire to be who we are in Christ.

When everything is as it should be, going to church makes us better, more saint-like.  Of course, you might say, I don’t need to go to church because I don’t need to be any better.  In that case, I would say you should come to church to help the rest of us be better.

We should stand ready to repent and accept God’s grace to start again.  Though John’s words are often quoted to non-believers to urge them to trust Christ, they were really written to Christians.  In them, the apostle warns against dishonesty and urges us to trust God’s provision when we acknowledge our wandering.

If we claim to be already free from sin, we lead ourselves astray and the truth has no place in our hearts.  If we confess our sins, He is so faithful and just that He forgives us our sins and cleanses us from all unrighteousness.

 

We can take this difficult course because “we have an Advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ the righteous; and He is an atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.”

Repentance is hard, but it is often the way toward that holy ambition.

When I say, “We are saints,” I mean we have the opportunity to make a holy difference.

When God sanctified the tools and implements for the temple, he didn’t do so simply to enhance the beauty of the place.  He gave them a holy usefulness.  God wants his people, his saints, to be useful too.

As saints we can make a difference in the world.  A vivid picture of this is found in Revelation 8.

When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.
       Then I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them.
And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne,
and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel.
     Then the angel took the censer and filled it with fire from the altar and threw it on the earth, and there were peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning, and an earthquake.

 

Consider what is happening here.  In the Bible, heaven is pictured as echoing with constant praise.  Yet, that praise is silenced so God might hear the prayers of the saints on earth.  Those prayers become part of the worship God receives.  Then, those very prayers mingled with fire from the altar are hurled to the earth where they have a powerful impact—“thunder, rumblings, lightning, and an earthquake.”

It’s a portrayal of how the saints may make a difference through their prayers.

But their impact is not limited to prayer.

Luke equates the saints with the people of God who are called to be God’s witnesses in the world and do his work in the world.  Perhaps this is why the ancient church so often associated saints with miracles.  The point is not that these miracles actually took place, but that the church believed real saints make a difference in the world. 

Remember, these saints appeared in every venue of life.  There were saints of the kitchen, saints of the garden, saints of various businesses, saints for every field you might imagine.  Again, the lesson seems to be that you may be a saint wherever you find yourself. 

There is a further note in the Revelation that we shouldn’t miss because in its own way it underscores the saints’ influence in the world.  In the Revelation we are told the forces of evil “make war on the saints.” Why should Satan and his forces bother to focus their destructive power of the saints?  I think it must be because the saints are making a difference for the cause of the Kingdom.

  Some years ago, on a cross-country trip, I saw a church sign that reminds us of what's at stake.  It said,"The world at its worst needs the church at its best."  When we live up to our identity as saints, we make a difference.

Conclusion

We are saints.  When the New Testament writers speak of the saints, they almost always see them as part of a community.  Saints are not saints in isolation.  We are not alone in trying to be the saints God called us to be.

There is a Celtic prayer that suggests we Christians are surrounded by saints.  While it mentions some saints by name, it reminds us there many saints of the rank and file.

I walk with the saints . . .Round and round.
With Patrick . . .On the reek's high brow.
With Bridgid . . . In Kildare's town.
With Kevin . . . In verdant Glendalough.
Here today . . .In my town,
Saints surround me . . .Round and round!

 

Who are we?  We are saints.  It’s a surprising claim but it’s God’s claim. 

 

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^[1] The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (1 Co 1:2). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.