The Story of Redemption

The movie begins with a wide-angle view of the universe: galaxies and stars and the darkness of space spread out as far as the eye can see. Slowly, the camera begins to move, then faster and faster as it narrows in on one galaxy, then to one solar system, to one planet and finally to one family on a hillside standing around a newly dug grave. The shovel is still in the hands of the man and by his side is a woman. Who is it, you or old, that has just been laid to rest? Slowly, the rain begins to fall.

Such is the story of God in the world.

In the beginning, God created all the heavens and the entire earth. The narrative is about everywhere and everything; stars and moon, animals and fish of the sea and foul of the air. Then comes the creation of the human race. The word Adam in Hebrew means, humankind. But violence that erupts, followed by the babble of many languages and the reality that we know today: many cultures, many religions, many languages, but the same corruption, the same struggle, the same brokenness.

Out of all the cities and sanctuaries of human existence, the story selects one to follow: the Hebrew people and their migration into Egypt looking for food; then comes slavery and escape and the journey to a promise land. What follows are judges, prophets, kings and queens, rebellion and restoration, and finally exile into Babylon and then life under another empire: Rome itself.

The camera recording all this moves above the fray, filming commerce and community, work and worry, love and loss, night and day, until it comes to rest on husband and wife, one family, away from home, giving birth to their first, in a barn. Animals were all around and also some angels.

The movie begins to tell the story of one baby, one boy, one man who went about doing good, who taught the people and healed the people and welcomed all who came. This one story telling what was said years later, concluding with this single sentence, “Therefore, let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this man, this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.”

Finally, we hear this man speak: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. That Spirit has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the captives, sight for the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. I am here to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

This is the story of redemption. It is the story of salvation for you, and me, for our neighbors and those on the other side of the ocean. It is the story of God, focusing his eyes and his energy on one man and the redemption he has in mind for the whole human race.

I.

God is in the redemption business.

Don’t you love the stories on Antique Road Show?

I watched one this week, of a man in the Midwest who spied a contraption that made him curious. He could not tell what it was. Other people, he said, kept stopping and eyeing the strange piece of furniture. What was it, he kept saying to himself. It stood about five feet tall, maybe six feet. It was rounded on the side facing him, but it appeared to stand up against the wall. People stood and stared then moved on, not willing to take a chance on a strange piece of furniture.

But one man did. He bought the object for very little money, a hundred dollars maybe. He pulled down from the top, dropping the curved wooded bin to the floor to reveal a tank of water, a single pipe draining the hot water into a bathtub.

“I have never seen one of these,” the antique expert said. “I have heard about them, like a Murphy bed that folds up into the wall.”

A Murphy bath, we might call it: once just a curiosity that drew people’s passing notice, now an extremely valuable antique, with the attention of those who know and a national audience, with a price tag of thousands. That is redemption: somebody knew its value, and now we all know its worth.

That is the work of God, pulling out into the open the people who were left unnoticed and alone and saying, “This person, this family, this boy, this girl is of great significance. I think I will purchase her. I think I will trade for him. I think the future holds great promise. This is a good investment.

God designed a universe for redemption. Everywhere things are working for the redemption of people and also of the entire universe.

This part of the movie moves from face to face. It began with the face of Jesus: dark, with dark hair and dark eyes, but with a bring soul and brilliant mind. The story is about him, and it is about you and me. Jesus came to teach us, reach us, and call us to holy and humane living. Jesus calls you to faith, and joy, and self-discipline. Jesus comes to you and says, “Come, follow me. I will make you all you are meant to be.”

This is the meaning of redemption today: God loves you, Jesus died for you, the Spirit is today stirring in your soul. You and I are to live in faith and walk in love. We are to forgive each other and pray for each other. We are to serve each other, rejoicing in the good times and weeping in the bad times. We are to sing for joy and live with hope. This is the redeemed life.

We join with God in this redemption business.

We gather to sing because music has power to redeem a soul from depression, despair, and self-destruction. We read together because books have power to redeem a mind from isolation, ignorance, and indifference. We greet each other with a smile, a touch, a word of delight, because being noticed and being embraced has power to redeem us from loneliness, and insignificance.

We are in the redemption business, are we not?

We are redeeming people from poverty and hunger. We are pulling people out of loneliness and isolation. We are showing people the way out of addiction. We are helping people give up the things that sabotage their dreams and embrace the things that make them healthy, happy, and hopeful. We are walking people into the kingdom of God. We make them our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Yes, this wide-angle camera, the one that began with the beginnings of time and eternity, finally shows on the screen the picture of you and Jesus, friends for life and eternity. There you are, leaning on Jesus and trusting in God. You are bigger than life. Can you see yourself?

II.

But once again, the camera begins to move. It pulls away from you and Jesus, slowly, slowly, slowly, and shows us the community where we live, the county, and finally the mountains with the Blue Ridge Parkway running like a ribbon.

The camera does not stop there. Soon it is all of the United States in view, like from a satellite or one of the space shuttles orbiting the earth. We can make out only the blue seas and the solid land masses. No people, no steeples, and no cities except the very big cities with millions of people, like Mexico City, New York, Singapore, and cities in China whose names I cannot even pronounce.

Once again, the focus shifts from you and me and Jesus to all the people of the world, red and yellow, black and white, all who are precious in God’s sight. Once again, we see the big picture and we are reminded that it is not about you and me and our little problems.

Rick Warren wrote the best-selling Christian book of the last 50 years. It is called The Purpose Driven Life and it begins with these words, “It is not about you.”  Yes, God loves you and me, just as God loves every other person: no more, no less. We want the movie to stop here, tell our story, bemoan our woes, celebrate our achievements. But no, it is not about me or you or our little church.

Sometimes when we gather in this sanctuary and pray, I wonder: does God have the energy to pay attention to us, given all the really rotten things happening in the world. Millions of people in Gaza get up each morning not knowing if they will eat or live. Can I bother God with my issues when Ukrainians are fighting for their lives, their country, their freedom. Does God even notice my drive from Travelers Rest up the mountain to Hendersonville when there are mothers with babies walking a thousand miles to the Rio Grande looking for opportunity, and safety, and peace?

God has a wide-angle view of the world. God sees it all,

God hears it all, God feels it all.

I attended a seminar on migration this week at the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship in Greensboro. The convener showed a map of migration patterns. It jolted me into reality. We think things at our southern border are serious; and they are, but compared to the millions of displaced people around the world, they are a secondary problem. The map used dots to represent displaced people, displaced by war, poverty, natural disaster, political instability. The more dots, the brighter the map. The brightest dots are in the Middle East and Africa and Europe where people are finding refuge from war and instability. The man who spoke to us grew up in Kenya, among 50 million people, next door to Somalia.

Migration may be the number one demographic dynamic in the world today. People on the move, like Abraham of old, the Moses with the Hebrew slaves, and David running from Saul, and Jeremiah and friends looking for a safe place during the forced exile from their home.  People on the move, like Mary and Joseph with their firstborn, and later the disciples of Jesus who, the text says, scattered from Jerusalem because of persecution. Paul was on the road most of his life, and John was exiled on the Isle of Patmos when he saw the hopeful vision we know call the Revelation of Jesus Christ to John.

Our gospel movie ends with that wide-angle shot from the edge of space, and these words spoken quietly on the soundtrack: “And I saw a new heaven and a new earth…. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband…. Then the angel showed me a river with the water of life clear as crystal flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb. It flowed down the center of the main street. On each side of the river grew the tree of life … and the leaves were for the healing of the nations.”

This is the story of redemption. For God so loved the whole world that God gave the one and only son….