1 Timothy 1:12-17
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
16 September 2007
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Perhaps you’ve heard the saying that goes like this, “If you’ve ever wondered if God has a sense of humor, look in the mirror.” I usually like to add to that statement and say, “And if you still have any doubt, take off your clothes and look again.”
What we’re really here to ponder this morning is a question very similar: “How do you know that God loves you?”
There are a whole bunch of people in this world who very firmly and very adamantly believe that if there even is a “God” out there somewhere, He doesn’t appear to be a God of love, certainly not a lover of the individual person. Their reasoning for this line of thinking are the twin challenges of pain and problems. You have most likely heard the question asked, “How could a loving God permit that?” You can fill in the blank as to what the “that” is, but here are some examples: “How could a loving God permit a drive-by shooting?” ; “How could a loving God permit two sons from one family to die in Iraq?” ; “How could a loving God permit cancer to ravage one body after another?” You’ve really got to hand it to the devil. The twin challenges of pain and problems keep many people from faith in God and from faith in a loving God.
So, why are you here this morning? I believe you’re here because you’ve seen through the clever scheme of the devil, or, at least, you’re wrestling and struggling with it. You’re here because there is too much beauty and too much love and too much goodness in this world to simply have happened by itself, without the purposeful plan of “someone” or “something.”
That thought is probably why most people come to faith, in at least a rational way. But there’s got to be something more. There’s got to be something that answers that question, “How do you know that God loves you?”
If you’ve ever asked that question, if you’ve ever wrestled with that question, if you’re maybe even now asking that question or wrestling with it, I would encourage you to follow the advice of St. Paul and look in the mirror. “How do you know that God loves you?” Look in the mirror!
There may be much that all of us do not know, but there is indeed at least one thing that each of us is an expert about: ourselves. I may know each of you to some degree, but I am not an expert in any of you. And all of you may know me to some degree, but none of you is an expert in me.
Look in the mirror. What do you see? And be honest!
I can tell you what St. Paul saw. I can tell you this not because I am an expert in St. Paul, but because he took the time to honestly share what he saw when he looked in the mirror. When St. Paul looked in the mirror, he saw “The Chief of all Sinners.” And, impressive as it sounds, that’s a title that carries no bragging rights.
St. Paul, when he took off his rose-colored glasses and honestly stared deeply into his own soul, saw something despicable even to his own admission. Many of us might be despicable to others, but rarely are we despicable to ourselves. We can usually find some redeeming value in ourselves.
Many psychiatrists would probably say that St. Paul needed some serious counseling, but Paul would argue with that. When St Paul looked into the mirror, he.found himself despicable and unforgivable. When St. Paul looked into the mirror, he saw a blasphemer, not just someone taking God’s holy Name in vain, but someone who, by his own actions, elevated himself to be God. In the mirror St. Paul saw a persecutor, someone not willing to leave others alone. In the mirror St. Paul saw a violent man, one who purposely tracked down and witnessed the death of many people. A respected leader in First Century Judaism, St. Paul found himself despicable, someone about whom people might say, “I don’t know how he sleeps at night.” And here’s the truth: when St. Paul honestly looked in the mirror, he couldn’t sleep at night.
Our current justice system would call St. Paul a “three-time offender” and even a serious repeat offender, the worst of the worst and the baddest of the bad. Certainly that’s how God viewed St. Paul, a gross violator of God’s good and perfect will. And to be viewed in that way by God, let’s just say that’s not a good thing. You don’t want the One Who said, “Vengeance is mine” [Deuteronomy 32:41] to have you on His most wanted list.
When St. Paul came face-to-face with his own inner self and saw himself as he truly was, he absolutely shuttered in sheer fright. What would be the chances of someone like him, “The Chief of all Sinners,” to ever be able to make up his offenses to a righteous, perfect and holy God, particularly One Who was not pleased with St. Paul’s life? The chances were slim. In fact, let’s go even one step further. There was absolutely no chance.
What absolutely amazed St. Paul was what happened next in his life. He was expecting severe punishment. In fact, he was hoping to get off with “severe punishment.” But that’s not what he found in God. No, instead, St. Paul found grace and mercy and forgiveness. He found a God of love Who had sent His own Son into the world to carry every sin of St. Paul, Who allowed every sin of St. Paul to be one of those nails that pierced His hands and feet, Who allowed every blasphemeable, persecuting and violent action of St. Paul to be part of that painful spear thrust into His side, Who allowed every sin of St. Paul to be the heavy stone rolled in front of Jesus’s tomb.
If you were to ask St. Paul how he knew that God loved him and how you could know that God loved you, he would first of all take you to Calvary’s Cross, where he would show off the truly unimaginable, undescribable torture endured by Jesus Christ to pay the penalty for his sins and for each of our sins. With that horrific scene etched deeply on your mind, St. Paul would then lead you to a mirror. He’d ask you what you see there. And if you yourself didn’t answer in this way, St. Paul would tell you that you were seeing proof positive that God loves you, the simple fact that you’re still here, as “The Chief of all Sinners”and not only that you’re still here as the recipient of God’s unearned, unbridled love, but that you’ve got the promise of the God of love to spend all time in His presence.
No wonder, after looking deeply into his own soul and seeing nothing there but the unearned, undeserved grace and mercy of Jesus Christ written all over his life, that St. Paul would say, “Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever, Amen.”
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Pastor Christopher Schaar
Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena