In last Sunday’s message, I began with a sentence written by Ian MacLaren.
He wrote:

“Jesus was himself the one convincing and permanent miracle.”

And I said the sentence for me was stunning
because it said something about the Jesus
who is at the heart of our faith …
said it without the theological or doctrinal trappings
that can lead to arguments and divisiveness.
It just said something plain and clear.

“Jesus was himself the one convincing and permanent miracle.”

And last week I spoke of a conversation Jesus had with his disciples
when he asked them what the people were saying about him and about who he was.
And after the disciples gave their answers he put the question to them.
He made it personal.
He asked them,
“How about you?  Who do you say I am?”

And then I put the question to you.
“What about you?
Who do you say Jesus is?”
“What is it about Jesus that has made you say yes to him?”
“What is it about him that has won your heart?”

And I told you how he had won my heart … and why … that
Jesus is, above all, my Friend … a Friend who by his grace
                        has sustained me … sheltered me … supported me … and saved me.
                                It is the friendship of Jesus that gets me through.

But that was last week … 
and today is a new day …
and I have another question for you to consider …
a question that is given birth out of your answer to the question
“What is it about Jesus that has won your heart?”
The question today isn’t so much about Jesus as it is about you.

It isn’t just Jesus asking,
“Who do you say I am?”
It is Jesus asking,
“Who do you think you are?”
“Who does God say you are?
“Who does Jesus say you are?”

This is one of my favourite stories,
told by Robert Schuller many years ago.

It is the story of a beggar
who sat across the street from an artist’s studio.
As he looked from his window
the artist sketched the face of the defeated, despairing soul  ~ 
with one important change.
Into the dull eyes he put the flashing glint of an inspired dreamer.
He stretched the skin on the man’s face
to give him the look of iron will and fierce determination.

When the artist was finished,
he went down to the street
and invited the beggar in to see it.

When the beggar looked at it and studied it
he did not recognize himself in the portrait.
“Who is it?” he asked.
The artist smiled quietly.
Then, suspecting that he saw something of himself in the portrait,
he hesitatingly questioned, “Is it me?  Can it be me?”

And the artist replied, “That’s how I see you.”

Straightening his shoulders, the beggar responded by saying,
“If that’s the man you see ~ then that’s the man I’ll be.”

So I come back to the questions Jesus asks.
“Who do you think you are?”
“Who does God say you are?
“Who does Jesus say you are?”

When God looks at you, what does God see?

As I think about those questions
I cannot help but think of the beggar the artist painted.
The beggar saw himself very differently than the artist did.
The beggar saw himself as he was.
The artist saw him as he could be.
The beggar saw the limitations of his life.
The artist saw the possibilities of his life.
The beggar saw, if I may use the language,
  the sin of his life.
The artist, if I may use the language,
  with his forgiving brush painted it away.

As I think about those questions
        I cannot help but think that we are the beggar and God is the artist.
                It is as I said last week …

 

 

There is no life so lost that God’s love cannot find it.
There is no life so wasted that God’s love cannot give it a new purpose.
There is no sin so grievous that God’s love cannot forgive it.
There is no life so small that God’s love cannot enlarge it.
There is no person so defeated that God’s love cannot lift them.
There is no situation so hopeless that God’s love cannot transform it.

No one’s life is beyond the reach of that love.
Not yours.  Not mine.  Not anyone’s.

How can I dare say such a thing? 
Because it is Jesus who said,
“For God so loved the world …”
I say such a thing because
this is a God-so-loved-the-world-one-person-at-a-time love,
that is given to each of us.
As St. Augustine wrote:
“God loves each one of us, as if there were only one of us to love.”

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because it is Jesus who said that
“the Son of Man came into the world, not to condemn it, but to save it.”

How can I dare say such a thing?
It was Paul who wrote,
“while we were yet sinners, Christ does for us.”
When humanity was at its worst, God’s love in Christ was at its best.

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because it is Jesus who said,
“I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.”

 

 

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because it is Jesus who said,
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and heavy laden
and I will give you rest.”

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because it is Jesus who took the children on his knee and blessed them.

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because, as Paul reminds us,
“nothing, nothing at all,
“can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

How can I dare say such a thing?
Because it is Jesus, as he was dying on the cross, who said,
“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”

How can I dare say such a thing?
I can dare say it because of Jesus.
We learned it when we were children.
“Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

And I believe that Jesus would say to you, whoever you are,
as an artist said to a beggar,
“You are a one-of-a-kind and convincing miracle to me.
Your life matters.
Your life is worth the living
and you are worth something in the living of it.”
____________________________________

 

 

 

Let me recall a moment in my life.  A long ago moment.

When I was ordained as a minister in the United Church,
I was settled on St. Joseph Island, 50 kilometers east of Sault Ste. Marie,
and served the congregations of two villages:
Grace Church in Hilton Beach
and Harmony-St. Mark’s Church in Richards Landing, where we lived.

On Good Friday, April 20, 1973, almost 37 years ago, Kim was about as pregnant,
well, about as pregnant as anyone could be.
Kim’s mom was with us, to help her baby and to help us with ours.
Our unborn baby was a week overdue when Kim started having contractions
so we picked up her already packed suit case
and called two dear friends, Bob and Lorraine, who arrived in their car,
loaded us in, and headed to the General Hospital, the Catholic hospital, in the Soo.
As we were driving there, we saw Kim’s dad,
who was coming north to be with us during this time,
heading towards us on the highway.
We honked … and waved … and flashed our lights … but he didn’t see us.
So Bob made a U-turn on the trans Canada highway and chased him down.
Then, in our convoy of two cars, we headed to the Soo.

When Kim was settled in her room
        with people she loved around her
                I took Bob’s car and headed back to St. Joseph Island.
                        I was holding an evening Good Friday service.

So, after telling Kim I loved her
        and that everything would be okay  ~
I know … easy for me to say  ~
I told her to count the number of ships
that went through the Sault Locks until I returned.
                                        I gave her a kiss and headed for the Island.

 

I must confess that I was distracted during the service …
couldn’t wait ‘til it was over  ~
maybe like some of you here this morning  ~
and with the blessing and love of my congregation
I headed back to the Soo … back to Kim.

When I got there Kim was in hard labour
        and being the sensitive guy I am
                I asked her how many ships she had counted going through the locks
                        while I was gone.
As another contraction came,
Kim politely suggested what I might do with those ships.

And it was minutes later that Kim was wheeled into the delivery room.
These were the days when dads weren’t encouraged to be there for the delivery
and I was quite content not to set any kind of precedent.

And moments later a nurse emerged holding our baby in her arms.
I was standing outside the delivery room door in that Catholic hospital,
dressed in a black suit and wearing a black shirt with a clerical collar.
I asked the nurse if I could hold the baby
and she very kindly passed her along to me.

I held our first child for the first time.
Shannon Kathleen Posno.
I held her close.
My heart swelled.
Tears surfaced.
I traced her features with my fingers.
I marveled at her beauty.
I saw in her, in the curve of her lips, in her eyes, something of her mother.
I saw her as a gift from God.

 

This was a child we had wanted
and waited for
and now welcomed into our world …
her world with us.

How full of love I was for this 8 pound 6 ounce miracle.

After a moment of me holding that little girl,
the nurse asked if she could have the baby back.
                She wanted to take the baby to her father.
                        I told her I was the father.
                                And being in a Catholic hospital and all …
                                        and me dressed like a priest and all …
                                                and her thinking I was a priest and all …
                                                        she said, “No Father, I don’t think you understand.”
And I said, “No, I don’t think you understand.
                                                                        I am not a priest but a minister
                                                                                and I am the father.”

We laughed, of course, and I held Shannon for a moment longer
and then handed her back to the nurse.
I went to see Kim.
Her labour was over.
She was radiant.
What a great job she had done.
And now, our labour of love was about to begin.

It was a few minutes later when the nurse returned with Shannon  ~
all cleaned up and all wrapped up in a warm blanket.
She was given to Kim, and as Kim held her
I don’t think I had ever seen anything quite so wonderful.
nor had I seen Kim quite so beautiful before.
You could see it in Kim’s eyes.
You could see it in her smile.
You could see it in Shannon’s quietness.
A mother held the child of her heart close to her heart.
The room was filled with love
even as our hearts were filled with thanksgiving to God
for this precious, precious child.

So I come back to the questions Jesus asks.
“Who do you think you are?”
“Who does God say you are?
“Who does Jesus say you are?”
When God looks at you, what does God see?

As I think about those questions …
as I think about God
and as I wonder what God thinks of you,
I cannot help but think of my love for Shannon.
And let me tell you this.

No matter how old Shannon gets to be ~
        and she’ll be 37 this April ~ Shannon will always be my baby.

No matter how far away from us Shannon may live
        in many ways she is no further away from us than a heartbeat
                for I hold her close in my heart every day.

No matter what Shannon deals with  ~
her joys and her sorrows  ~
I will always share them with her.
I will be happy in her happiness
and I will weep in her sorrow.
I will rejoice when she rejoices
and grieve when she grieves.

 

 

I cannot imagine my life without her now that she is a part of it.
I will always love her.

I believe that the love of God is just like that.
What does God think of you?

Whoever you are, you are a child of God’s own heart  …
just as Shannon is a child of my own heart.

Whoever you are, you have been made in God’s image …
you have the qualities of God imprinted on your soul,
just as Shannon bears the genetic markings of Kim and me.

Whoever you are, you are treasured by God.
As Isaiah wrote, and this is God speaking through his writings:
“I've called your name. You're mine.”

How much do we mean to God?
Again, as Isaiah wrote, and this is God speaking through his writings:
“I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you.”

You have value that is immeasurable because God loves you.
You have value that is immeasurable because Jesus
        lived and died and lives today  ~  for you.
Whatever you may think of yourself, this is what God thinks of you.
You are God’s one convincing and permanent miracle.

And that is why we are singing
Come Let Us Sing Of A Wonderful Love
as our final hymn …

 

 

Come, let us sing of a wonderful love,
tender and true, tender and true,
out of the heart of the Father above,
streaming to me and to you:
wonderful love, wonderful love
dwells in the heart of the Father above.

For you.
For all of you.

 

SOLI  DEO  GLORIA

 

SCRIPTURE …

“For God so loved the world …”
“the Son of Man came into the world, not to condemn it, but to save it.”
“I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.”
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”
 “Nothing, nothing at all,
can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.”
“While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
 “I've called your name. You're mine.”
“I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you.”