Among my many friends in Texas is a brother named Jerry Strode. We've known and worshiped with each other for years, but recently, a shared experience has drawn us much closer. Both of us have had to accept the fact of our own deaths.

Jerry's realization came a few years back when he developed a horrendous case of pulmonary fibrosis. In the space of about a month, he went from normal lung function to being unable to breathe on his own. He spent 22 weeks on oxygen, and part of that time, he was on a vent. His life was only saved by a last-minute double lung transplant.

To this day, Jerry’s health remains fragile. He is on immunosuppressive drugs so that his body does not reject his new lungs, but he knows that someday, that rejection will happen. When it does, it will be the end for him.

The first Wednesday of my Texas odyssey, Jerry and I spent a couple of very meaningful hours talking with one another. Both of us see the world very differently now, and it was fascinating to explore together the lessons that we have learned.

The next day, I tested positive for COVID. Just about my first thought was, “Oh, no! I've killed Jerry!” After all, COVID does a number on immunocompromised people. When I was laid up, I prayed more about his health than about anything else.

Thankfully, he never developed symptoms, and when I was able to come back to church, he was one of the first people I saw. I greeted him and told him how glad I was that I hadn't killed him.

In response, he waved his hand dismissively. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm going to die anyway, and I can't think of a better reason to die than because I spent time with another Christian.” He told me next that in his estimation, a life of isolation wasn't worth living.

The era of COVID has been an era of fear. From the beginning, various authorities have done their best to make us afraid so that we would follow the precautions that they thought were appropriate: masking, social distancing, vaccinating, isolating, and so forth. As a result, many have spent the past couple of years terrified of getting COVID. They think that getting COVID and dying is the worst fate, unimaginably bad, and they will do anything to avoid it.

Jerry knows death better than just about anybody who’s still alive. He knows just how bad it is, and he knows that it’s not the worst. Loneliness is worse. Cutting yourself off from the people you love is worse. Above all, not having a rock-solid relationship with Jesus is worse. In fact, says Jerry, that’s the real worst.

None of the above means that we should not take precautions. Jerry had a mask on when I saw him that Sunday. Precautions aren’t the problem. The problem is when we allow fear, whether of COVID or anything else, to separate us from the things that really are worth dying for.

As those of you who have been following our Bible-reading program know, as of this Sunday, we have run out of New Testament. If you have made it from the beginning to the end, I congratulate you! However, even though the reading plan has ended, the year has not. For the rest of 2022, we are going to be looking at some of the great themes of the Bible, events and stories from the Old Testament that have significant implications in the New Testament.

Our theme for this week is the creation. The significance of Genesis 1:1 can hardly be overstated. It defines the nature of existence, and the fundamental truth that we are the creations of a divine Creator appears throughout the rest of Scripture.

Though there are dozens of passages I could use to explore this concept, it probably will surprise none of you that I have chosen a psalm. Even though it is familiar to us, taken as a whole, it makes an argument from the creation that is easy to overlook. This evening, then, let's see what Psalm 19 has to say about God's creations.

The first section of this psalm is about the heavens. Let's read here from Psalm 19:1-6. These words contain one of the most powerful arguments for the existence of God. When we look up at the skies, whether by day or by night, they proclaim they are the handiwork of a Being so awesome in power that we can only describe Him as God. None of the celestial bodies make any noise as they hurtle through space, but their message is plain anyway.

As you might expect, at this point in my life I am interested in testing the evidence for my faith, and this is one of the most significant reasons why I am not an atheist. We may not realize it, but when scientists concluded that the universe had a beginning, that was a tremendous blow to unbelievers. Before that time, most skeptics had believed in a steady-state universe that had no beginning and therefore did not imply a Creator.

We're so used to hearing physicists talk about the Big Bang that we don't realize what a problem it is for a naturalistic explanation of the universe. Naturalists believe that everything can be explained by the operation of physical laws. However, something that created the universe with all of its natural laws must necessarily be outside of those laws.

In recent years, I have heard some doubters hypothesize that somewhere out there, there is a mother universe that goes along spawning daughter universes, and we happen to reside in one of those. The flaws with these claims are obvious. There is and can be no evidence for other universes. In making such assertions, scientists show that they are as much believers in the supernatural as we are. The only difference between us is that they are bending over backwards to refuse to acknowledge the existence of God.

After this, the psalmist turns his attention to another one of God's great creations, His word. This discussion appears in Psalm 19:7-10. In the previous section, the psalmist showed that there is a God. Now, he is proving that the Scriptures come from God. This proof consists of their perfect nature. The Bible in its wisdom, truth, and beauty shows that it is the product of an intellect that is more than human.

Let's start with beauty. This is an argument that is particularly important to me. I am a writer. It is one of the most precious of my gifts from God, and I have rejoiced in words and language all of my life.

I have read widely, everything from fantasy novels to medieval Chinese poetry. However, nowhere have I found anything as magnificent as the Bible. Many of the greatest wordsmiths of history learned their craft from studying it. Truly, it is more desirable than gold and sweeter than honey!

The Bible's divine origin also is evident in its timeless wisdom. The world today loves to dismiss the Scriptures as outmoded. Nonetheless, when we test them, they prove to be as valid a guide to right living as they were thousands of years ago. Truly, there is nothing new under the sun! When I have done what the word of God told me to do, I have never found cause for regret. I only have regretted the times when I failed to follow it.

The Scriptures also are true. Certainly, we can bring in outside evidence that confirms their validity, but mostly, they authenticate themselves. The stories of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus offer us compelling reason to believe that He is the Son of God. Additionally, the Bible's web of fulfilled prophecy, which stretches for thousands of years, shows that it is the product of a mind that knows the end from the beginning. In every respect, the Bible is perfect, just as we would expect from a creation of God.

The final section of the psalm contemplates another of God's creations, we ourselves. Let's wrap up our reading with Psalm 19:11-14. The psalmist’s words, though, point out a significant difference between us and the creations discussed in the first two sections. Both the heavens and the Bible are perfect as they are, and they cannot be improved.

The same is not true of us. Instead, if we are to be perfect, we must be perfected. The first source of perfection that the psalmist mentions is God's word. When we are devoted to the Scriptures, they warn us of possible trouble ahead and set our feet on the path to eternal glory.

However, the Bible by itself is not enough to ensure that we will inherit eternal life. It is perfect, but our obedience to it is not. Thus, the psalmist must call on God directly. The first problem that he identifies is unintentional sin. As he notes, we don't even know what our unintentional sins are! Nonetheless, we can appeal to God to cleanse us from the sins that we didn't even notice, and His mercy is so great that He will.

Second, we need God's help in keeping us from rebellion. We know that if we go on sinning willfully, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins. Thus, if we allow willful sin to rule us, we are doomed.

Here too, the solution is God. Only with His aid can we fight off the devil who wants to lead us astray. However, the good news is that if we are cleansed of unintentional sin and free from rebellion, we are blameless in His sight.

Indeed, the psalmist concludes the psalm by expressing his desire to be blameless in everything, utterly perfect just as the heavens and the Scriptures are. Like him, we should seek holiness not only in what we do but even in what we say and think. We will never achieve this goal on our own, but with the help of our rock and Redeemer, we can be acceptable to Him.

One of the greatest apparent advantages to a godless way of life is the freedom that it allows. No longer must the unbeliever be concerned with the law of God and whether it permits him to do what he wants to. Instead, he is free to do whatever he thinks is right.

However, this seeming benefit comes at a steep cost. When we are free to do whatever we want, there is nothing for us to do. There is no meaning for us to achieve, no purpose for us to fulfill.

When we point this out to atheists, they often reply that they are free to create their own meaning. You can decide to make your life about whatever you want it to be about! Sadly, the reality here does not measure up to the theory. The goals that we choose for ourselves inevitably prove unfulfilling.

This is well illustrated by the first couple of chapters of Ecclesiastes. In them, Solomon deploys the nearly unlimited resources that he has amassed in order to discover purpose for his life. He embarks on massive building projects and funds to the fullest every pleasure that he enjoys.

The worldly would suppose this to be heaven on earth. Many of them live with the goal of accumulating wealth until they too, like Solomon, can do anything they want. However, Solomon’s experience with it was anything but heavenly, and the few who achieve such levels of wealth today also discover that it is unsatisfying.

As the Israelite king says in Ecclesiastes 2:11, “When I considered all that I had accomplished and what I had labored to achieve, I found everything to be futile and a pursuit of the wind. There was nothing to be gained under the sun.” If we place our hope in ourselves, we will be disappointed.

Still others seek to find meaning in some earthly cause. There are those who give their lives to an organization or business; still others live for an ideal, like environmentalism.

The problem is, though, that results don’t live up to our aspirations. Businesses fail or, worse still, fire us. Organizations fall short of their goals. Causes get sidetracked by human selfishness and pride. More subtly, success may be even harder to deal with. What do you do if some worldly goal of yours is completely achieved? Go fishing?

Thus, we see that honoring the purpose for which we are created, though it appears very restrictive, is actually a blessing. Christians can live a meaningful, fulfilled life from beginning to end without facing the disappointment that hounds the worldly. Because God's goals are bigger than we are, we never find them inadequate. Better still, when we come to the end of our lives, we can anticipate an eternal reward instead of oblivion or eternal punishment. The yoke of Christ may appear to be a burden, but when we take it up, we find it to be lighter than anything else.

They say you can never step in the same river twice. However, one of the quirks of being a hymnist is that sometimes you get to watch your younger self stepping in the river repeatedly. I rarely return to my older work; it tends to make me want to red-pen it savagely. Occasionally, though, I am present in an assembly when a song leader leads one of my hymns, often one that is more than 20 years old.

I experienced this last March when I was visiting with the Kleinwood church. Whether because of my presence or because of happenstance, one of the hymns selected that Sunday was “Servant Song”.

The hymn has particular spiritual resonance for me because it marks the low point of my life as a Christian. While thinking I was being righteous, I had allowed myself to be deceived into practicing evil. I had realized my error at the cost of tremendous suffering, and in January 2000, I was trying to pick up the pieces. I knew I needed to rebuild my spiritual life from the ground up.

Into this emotional turmoil, all unaware, came Richard Morrison. He emailed me, asking me if I wanted to write additional verses to a Jimmy Owens hymn entitled “Servant Song”, which he had recently arranged.

Immediately, I told him yes. I thought (and still think) that the tune was beautiful and the core thought of the hymn was compelling. I knew that a servant was exactly what I wasn't, but it was exactly what I wanted to be. When I was still working with the church in Joliet, the song leaders there would use “Servant Song” as an invitation hymn, and that's honestly about right.

I am a perfectionist and an utterly unrepentant one. There are hymns that I've worked on for more than a decade. However, I wrote those two verses in about 15 minutes, and the version that is sung today is identical to the original.

As I was reflecting on these things last March, a new thought occurred to me. “Servant Song” is a prayer, an appeal addressed directly to the Father. When I wrote those words, I meant them so strongly that it hurt. When churches began to sing them, while using the text to worship, they also unwittingly were repeating my cry from the depths. That same prayer has been amplified before the throne of God for more than 20 years.

With the benefit of those two extra decades, I now can see how God has answered that prayer in my life. The results have been imperfect because they involved me. Selfishness and pride continue to be stumbling blocks to the working out of God's will in my life, and I know they always will be.

Nonetheless, in large measure my prayer has been answered. Indeed, it has directed the course of my life. In 2000, I had no intention of becoming a preacher, but I became one anyway--after kicking against the goads for a good long while. With each passing year, I learned more and more that the work of the evangelist is the work of servanthood. I asked to be made a servant, and I was made one.

I also have been given a gift that few receive: the gift of being able to return to the beginning from the end. From the perspective of the end of my life, I can trace the unwavering course of God's answer despite the twists and turns I introduced. For that, at the last, I am thankful.

When we hear the word “fellowship”, we recognize it as having a positive connotation. At its most basic level, it makes us think of good time shared with others. As we grow in our biblical understanding of the concept, we might add things like worshiping together or being generous with our money to the list.

However, not all that the Bible says about fellowship is pleasant. This is apparent to us when we read about the unfruitful works of darkness in 2 Corinthians 6. Another, even more challenging, use appears in Philippians 3:10. Here, Paul expresses his desire to know the fellowship of the sufferings of Christ.

This would strike the world as an utterly strange goal. Suffering is bad; who wants to seek it out? Nonetheless, if we want to be conformed to the image of our Master, we also must be conformed to the suffering that was such an important part of His earthly life. This morning, then, as part of our quarterly study of fellowship, let's explore the fellowship of suffering.

Today, I'd like us to consider three primary ways in which we ought to have fellowship in the sufferings of Christ. The first of these is fellowship in self-denial. Let's read together from Matthew 5:38-42. This is a text that we often like to break apart. In particular, we like to focus on v. 39.

However, if we want to appreciate the Lord's meaning, we need to read vs. 39-42 as his response to v. 38. “An eye for an eye” was originally a judicial precept of the Law of Moses, but by the time of Christ, it had evolved into a justification for self-willed retaliation. As Jesus commonly does, He addresses not only the practice of retaliation but also the self-will that underlies the desire to retaliate.

Thus, we should read all of the scenarios Jesus proposes as a critique of worldly selfishness. The worldly want to hit back, counter- sue, give only what is required, and give nothing if not required. All of us can appreciate the feeling of satisfaction that comes with these things. We are standing up for ourselves!

By contrast, it's hard to stand there and take it, let the jerk win his lawsuit, carry the soldier’s burden farther, and see our money go to someone who didn't work for it. There is suffering involved! All the same, we see this behavior modeled by our Lord, who didn't look out for His interests but for ours. When He was required to give us nothing, He gave us His own life, and His self-denial gives us our example.

Second, we have fellowship in the sufferings of Christ through submission. This is not a popular topic! I've been maintaining my blog online since early 2014, and in that time, I have learned what things will lead to hundreds of people in the comments yelling at me. First, I create controversy when I illustrate a post using a picture of a woman. Second, though, I make a bunch of Christians really mad when I write about submission. We do not live in a submissive society, so it is hard for us to submit to God, to human authorities, to elders, or to our spouses.

Even so, we must pay attention to the word of God in 1 Peter 2:13-25. This is a long reading, but I think we need to read the whole thing to appreciate Peter's argument. He is discussing an ugly truth about the Roman Empire. Under Roman law, slaves were legally the property of their masters, and those masters could do whatever they wanted with the slaves, beating them or even worse.

To modern-day Americans, the solution is obvious. These slaves who are being abused should run away! However, that's not what Peter says. He urges first of all submission to the government, and as part of submission to the government, slaves must submit to their masters even when those masters are beating them.

This is a hard saying, and I think Peter knew that it was a hard saying when he wrote it. He was commanding innocent Christians to stay in a situation where they were suffering even though they were innocent. In doing so, they entered into fellowship with the sufferings of Christ, who Himself suffered unjustly just like they were doing. Ironically, the last part of v. 21 often is quoted as generic justification for imitating Jesus. However, the text explicitly is about following in the steps of Jesus in enduring suffering.

Thankfully, we do not have masters and slaves in the United States today, so none of us are required to stick around even though our legal owner beats us. However, the Biblical principle here is so strongly stated that it should lead us to reconsider our attitude towards submission. Too often, Christians disobey the law they don't agree with, ignore the elders they think are wrong, and walk out on the jerk spouse.

That is not the truth that Peter taught, and it is not the example that Christ gave. The counsel of both is to submit, even when it's painful, and even when it's hard. When we bear up despite suffering unjustly, we participate in the holy suffering of Christ.

Finally, we share in His sufferings when we accept ostracism. let's read here from Hebrews 13:10-14. I know Clay preached a sermon on this a few months back, but it fits so neatly into this topic that I couldn't help myself!

The Hebrews writer here is addressing a problem commonly faced by Jewish Christians in the first century. 2000 years ago, Jews were not “worship at the church of your choice” kind of folks. If you were a Jew, and you claimed Jesus as your Lord, your friends and family would cut you off. They wouldn't protect you from persecution, and they might even persecute you themselves. Not surprisingly, a lot of converts found this pressure unbearable and returned to the synagogues, which is why the book of Hebrews was written.

Here, the writer urges Jewish Christians to embrace the social stigma and shame. He notes that on the Jewish day of atonement, the bodies of the sacrifices were to be burned outside the camp, signifying that sin had left the camp. Like that, Jesus himself literally suffered outside the gates of Jerusalem. It also was a sign that He had been cut off.

In the same way, the writer tells his audience to go outside the camp, even though it meant not being associated with their people anymore. After all, outside the camp was the only place they could find Jesus.

The same is true for us. Even though we are not necessarily ostracized because of our faith in Christ, we constantly face pressure to conform to the world. Life is much easier for us if we hold our peace on certain issues, booze it up at the office Christmas party, watch the same trashy stuff on TV, and generally live lives that are indistinguishable from the lives of those around us. The more we stick out, the more we will be ostracized.

We must remember, though, that Christ is not in the camp with the world. He is outside the camp, and if we want to go to Him, we must show the world that we are not like they are. We don't have to manufacture issues by dressing funny or refusing to celebrate certain holidays. Instead, obeying the will of God is all that is required. When the world sees us fearlessly living for Him, they won't like it one little bit, but He will, and that's all that matters.