The Lutheran Hour
-
"Lonely No More"
- Download MP3 No bonus material MP3
-
Text: Ephesians 2:19
-
Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! The Savior calls; let every ear Attend the heavenly sound. Ye doubting souls, dismiss your fear; Hope smiles reviving round. Ye sinners, come, ’tis Mercy’s voice; The gracious call obey; Mercy invites to heavenly joys, And can you yet delay? Dear Savior, draw reluctant hearts; To Thee let sinners fly And take the bliss Thy love imparts And drink and never die.
The time was the 1930s and a group of friends were sitting in a restaurant, sharing stories about the Great Depression. One told of the suicide of a once-rich man who hadn’t been able to face financial ruin; another spoke of the most recent cuts at the local factory; still another recalled an encounter he had had with an entire family which was sleeping, homeless, in the city park. With the telling of each story, the mood of the group darkened. With a feeling of futility, a minister in the company confessed: “I have to preach a sermon on Thanksgiving Day and I don’t have a clue as to what I’m going to say. I want to say something to cheer people up, but what is there to say in a world which is held captive by a great depression?”
The question didn’t call for an answer. But one of the men, another minister by the name of William Stidger, thought he heard God whisper in his ear: “Why not give thanks for the people who have been a blessing in your life; why not encourage them in such a terrible time?” Even as Stidger was turning the idea over in his mind, he remembered an old school teacher; a lady who had been more than an educator in the niceties of English literature. She was special. She had gone out of her way to instill in him a love of writing that had affected everything he put on paper. Stidger sat down and wrote a letter to the elderly lady.
He was surprised at how soon he received a reply. Written with a wobbly hand, the letter began: “My dear Willy.” “Willy?” Stidger thought to himself, “I’m almost 50 and have lost most of my hair. How long has it been since somebody called me ‘Willy’?” Willy smiled and kept on reading. This is what the teacher wrote: “My Dear Willy: I can’t tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my 80s, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely, like the last leaf of autumn lingering behind. You might want to know that I taught in school for more than 50 years, and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue, cold morning, and it cheered me as nothing has done in many years.” Stidger cried.
Encouraged by this success, he wrote another letter. This one to a kindly pastor, a pastor who had just said an earthly goodbye to his wife. He thanked the man for investing himself, his time, his experience, his advice in others. In two days a reply letter was in Stidger’s mailbox: “My Dear Will: Your letter was so beautiful, so real, that as I sat reading it in my study, tears fell from my eyes, tears of gratitude. Before I realized what I was doing, I rose from my chair and I called my wife’s name. Forgetting she was gone, I wanted to share your letter with her. You’ll never know how much your writing has warmed my spirit…”
Today we talk about loneliness. A teacher’s loneliness, a pastor’s loneliness… your loneliness. We talk about loneliness, because everybody, at least everybody I’ve ever met, has shaken hands with lonely.
The little boy who waits for his dad to keep a month-old promise to take him to the little league diamond and show him how to hit a baseball; he knows lonely. He sits on his house’s front steps hoping that his father will remember, “Today is the day.” Dad doesn’t remember, and the boy wonders why his father doesn’t think he’s important anymore. The pretty high school senior, who, in love, gave herself to her college freshman flame who was home for Thanksgiving break; she understands lonely. Saying he needed the freedom to “see other people,” he broke up with her before going back to school. The businessman who, having had a two-minute talk with his boss, is escorted to the company parking lot; he understands lonely. He had never heard the words, “You’ve been doing good work” and “downsizing” used in the same sentence before. The mother who watches her five-year-old baby march bravely to the bus on the first day of school; the father who watches his little girl marry a man who is not near good enough for her; both understand lonely. The wife who has been married for 20 years, who gave up her career for her marriage, only to have her husband say, “It hasn’t been working out for a long time,” and sees him leave her, to be with another woman, 15 years younger. That ex-wife is left with three children, but she is still lonely. The widower who, on his wedding anniversary, stands alone at the graveside of his mate of 52 years; he understands lonely. The second-grader whose pet had to be put to sleep; the fourth grader who is the only one in his class not invited to a sleepover; the junior who is the only one in her group without a date to the prom; the wife who watched her husband of two years get on the plane to join his military unit overseas; the grown child who watches her only living parent being whittled down by Alzheimer’s; these all are those who understand lonely. Have I mentioned your lonely?
I don’t know anything which can drain the joy out of life faster than lonely. Loneliness leads you through deep, dark valleys where the sun is blacked out by sad shadows. Loneliness can consume an adult and it can steal enthusiasm and excitement from a child. Loneliness can come slowly or spring upon a person without warning; it can spin a web of isolation; it can paralyze you with its venom; convince you that suicide is the only action which can bring any kind of human sympathy. Since the moment Adam and Eve realized their sinful disobedience had separated them from the fellowship of the Lord, loneliness has been part and parcel of life. Although the Bible doesn’t say so, I would think Noah, and the seven souls with him, along with being given thankful hearts for their deliverance, might have felt an occasional twinge of loneliness as they surveyed the devastation of the flood. Never hearing the slap-slap of a child’s sandals running through his tent might have brought Abraham and Sarah face-to-face with lonely. Moses felt lonely as he listened to the constant complaints of the Children of Israel. Then there was blind Samson, strung up between the pillars of an idol’s temple; David who watched his favorite son lead a rebellion against him; Elijah who believed himself the last of God’s followers. Scripture is filled with people, God’s people, who felt they were alone.
They felt alone, but they weren’t alone. That’s right, they weren’t alone. No matter what their situation or circumstance, God’s people are never alone. Adam and Eve received a promise; Abraham was blessed with a son; Moses was given endurance to go on; Samson was awarded strength; David saw another of his sons become a great king, and Elijah eventually found the company of others who had not deserted the Lord. God’s people are never alone. Ask Daniel who knew the Lord was protecting him from the lions; talk to the three men in the fiery furnace about their heaven-sent companion; read through the writings of Paul and you will hear him tell about how even when he was beaten, jailed, starving, shipwrecked, and stoned, he was not alone. His crucified and risen Savior was with him.
Knowing God is with His people is why Paul could write to the people of Ephesus: “…You are no longer strangers and aliens, but (you) are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, (you, your faith, your hope, is) built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, (with) Christ Jesus Himself being the Cornerstone” (Ephesians 2: 19). In a seaport city where the manufacture and the sale of silver souvenir idols was big business; where prostitutes openly invited sailors to stop on by for a visit; where the emperor felt comfortable calling himself a god; more than one Christian might have felt himself out of place, out of step; an unwanted foreigner, leading his life aloof and alone.
To dispel all doubt, to dismiss all worry, to disperse all concern, Paul wrote powerful, Spirit-inspired words. He reminded Christ’s faithful people that their Savior was with them, sending His Spirit to watch over them, empower them, protect, support, and shore them up. Paul wanted them, and you, to know you are not alone. God’s people are never alone. Not when they have a faith which is founded on Holy Scripture; not when their lives are built upon the sacrifice of the Savior; not when Jesus is your cornerstone for faith. God’s people are never alone. Not in the ancient city of Ephesus; not in your community, your city, or in the country. God’s people are never alone.
But that is not entirely right. The Bible tells us of one man who truly was alone; more alone than you will ever be, can ever be. At His birth, not a single soul could be found to spare some small space to ease His entry into the world. As a result He was born in a stable and His first bed was the feeding trough of camels and cows. To read the life story of Jesus, is to see real loneliness, unrelenting, unfeeling, unyielding loneliness. Tell me, what form has your loneliness taken? Are you not understood by the people in your family? Jesus’ siblings, even His own mother, thought Him mentally unbalanced. Have the people in your hometown rejected you? Jesus can top that. The people in His boyhood home tried to stone Him and throw Him off a cliff. Maybe you don’t feel your church supports you. If so, Jesus understands, for the leaders of His church plotted to take His life. Have your friends deserted you? One of Jesus’ friends betrayed Him with a kiss; the others ran away during the hour of His greatest need.
But Jesus’ loneliness goes further than simply being let down by individuals. The highest religious court in His country imported liars to accuse Him; brought in brutal soldiers to beat Him; and railroaded Him to a cross. His king asked Him to perform magic and miracles, but refused to stand up, or run interference for Him. The Roman government which was proud of the fairness of its laws; which should have granted Him justice, decided Jesus’ death, the crucifixion of God’s innocent Son, was more comfortable and more convenient than facing a furious and frustrated mob.
No doubt, while I’ve been talking, you’ve been wracking your brain to find someone whose loneliness might be compared to that of the Savior. Maybe you’ve made a list: Christians who live in places of persecution and are locked away without recourse to courts, or opportunity to appeal for justice… did you list the European Jews under the Nazi holocaust, or the victims of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, or the genocide which, even now, is taking place in Sudan? There can be no doubt that these people have suffered secluded and solitary loneliness. Still none can match the isolation of the Savior who carried our sins to the cross. There, in those black Friday hours, Jesus felt forsaken by His own heavenly Father. That, my friends, makes His a loneliness which remains unparalleled in the long list of humanity’s sufferings. Only Jesus was forsaken by His heavenly Father. Can you understand what that meant?
Every one of us, the most despised, the most degenerate, the most detested among us, still lives under the kindness of God. We still experience His benevolence, His compassion, His goodwill. Even if we refuse to acknowledge Him, we remain enveloped in His love, and stay recipients of His blessings. Not so Jesus. He felt deprived of God’s graces. Seven times the Savior spoke as He was dying. Seven times He called out; but there is no statement more painful and poignant, more sad or sorrowful than when He cried: “My God, why have You forsaken Me.” Jesus had spoken no words of outrage, uttered no comments of anger; expressed no complaint about the injustices which humanity had inflicted upon Him. These indignities, this loneliness, He endured in gracious and noble silence. But when He felt forsaken by His Father, Jesus’ suffering soul cried out.
Jesus died alone for you. And why? Why? Because it was the Father’s plan; most certainly. Because the prophets had promised it; absolutely. Most of all Jesus died so you might live. Your death became His; your sin became His; your loneliness, your lostness, became His. Jesus died alone so you might always have an eternal, ever-living friend. Did you hear that? Jesus died alone so that loneliness might be gone.
No matter how loneliness has tried to enshroud you, the nail-pierced hands of the living Lord Jesus can free you. If all your friends dessert you; if all those you love have returned your tenderness with indifference; if death has removed away those who were closest to you, Jesus remains constant and committed. With faith in the crucified and ever-living Lord you will never be alone. Not in this world; nor on the Day of Judgment when the devil tries to accuse you of wrongdoing. Even on that day, what might have been the loneliest of days, Jesus will be at your side. He will tell His Father that He has paid the price for your sins; that He has won your salvation; that you have been adopted into the household of God. Because of Spirit-given faith in Jesus, you cannot be alone.
Do you remember Resurrection Sunday? It was a few months ago. If you don’t, allow me to refresh your memory of what happened early on that glorious morning. Some ladies came to finish Jesus’ burial, but rather than finding a guarded grave, they were met by an angel who said: “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazaraeth, who was crucified. He has risen; He is not here. See the place where they laid Him. But go, tell His disciples and Peter …” (Mark 16:6-7). That angel was saying a risen Lord Jesus is with His disciples, and because He is with us, we are not alone, we need not be afraid.
There is no question in my mind that some of you think that my words are rhetorical smoke rings. I can understand. Loneliness can be so oppressive that you can be led to believe that nothing can dispel it. If that is what you’re thinking, let me tell you about a man who had every reason to be lonely. John Harper was his name. Have you heard of him? No? That’s all right. Let me tell you his story. John was born in 1872. At an early age he became a pastor and before the age of 25 he founded a church in London. John got married and that union was blessed with a child, a little girl whom they named Nana. Nana was still a baby when John’s wife died. Those around him said, “John is alone.” But John wasn’t. John had a Savior… a Savior that watched over his daughter here on earth, and his wife in heaven.
John eventually received the call to pastor Moody Church in Chicago, the past and present home of many of the Savior’s great preachers. John, with six-year-old Nana in tow, set sail for his new home, his new ministry – on a new ship, the pride of the White Star Line: the Titanic. You know what happened to the Titanic; you may not know what happened to John Harper. When it became obvious the ship was going down, Harper got his daughter in a lifeboat. He did not get in with her. Instead he went through the ship shouting: “Women, children, and unsaved into the lifeboats!”
As an English gentleman, John believed the women and children should be saved, first. As a Christian pastor, he thought they should be joined by the Titanic’s unbelievers. John knew those who would die without Christ that night would face a far more frightening fate than the cold waters of the ocean. With a passion born by immediacy, John spoke to all who would listen. He continued to speak of the Savior even after he was in the water. He asked one man, “Are you saved?” When the man said, “no,” John gave him his life vest saying, “Here, you need this more than I.”
Stop for a moment. Do you see this picture? John Harper should have been alone. His wife had died; he had just put his daughter in a lifeboat; he was surrounded by a drowning multitude; he was treading water over 2,000 feet of frigid, black Atlantic. I wonder, as the cold slowly shut down his body, if John thought of Saint Paul’s words written to the church at Rome. Paul had said: “…whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that He might be both Lord of the dead and of the living” (Romans 14: 8,9). If John had remembered, he might even have smiled. In death he would be with his Savior and his heavenly family; if he lived it would be with his daughter. John was not alone. Whether he lived or died, Jesus was with him. Is He with you? Is the Savior with you? I pray He is. If He isn’t, call us at The Lutheran Hour. Amen.
LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Questions & Answers) for July 23, 2006
TOPIC: Miracles or Magic? part 2ANNOUNCER: And we’re back, picking up on a discussion we started last week concerning the miracles of Jesus. I’m Mark Eischer, here with Pastor Ken Klaus.
KLAUS: Last week we responded to a listener who said the church deceives people and Jesus Himself was a fraud and His miracles nothing more than magic tricks. I also said the only thing a good magician and Jesus have in common is the element of surprise. The truth is Jesus isn’t a magician. He wasn’t when He walked the Earth and He isn’t now.
ANNOUNCER: Nonetheless, people try to come up with rational explanations for the miracles we read about in the Bible. And you have to admit, there are some pretty strange ideas out there.
KLAUS: And they keep getting stranger and stranger.
ANNOUNCER: So what do we say about Jesus’ miracles?
KLAUS: We say the Bible reports things that Jesus did as being miracles, because they were. The Bible tells us that Jesus is both God and man. He’s the Lord of all creation. He brought the entire universe into existence through His Word. The Lord, for His own purpose, can temporarily suspend the laws of nature that govern the world. As a result; deaf could hear, blind could see, lame could walk, demons were cast out, lepers were healed. Mark, even Jesus’ enemies agreed that He did special things. No one ever called Him a magician who was pulling tricks. And, believe me, if Jesus’ enemies could have dismissed Him that way, they would have jumped at the opportunity.
ANNOUNCER: Once I heard an explanation for the feeding of the 5,000. It went like this: they said that everyone had secretly brought their lunch with them but no one wanted to share; and then when the little boy shared his loaves and fishes, every was ashamed and so they all brought their food out and that’s how the thousands were fed. So, instead of a miracle, we’re left with a little moral lesson that diminishes and dishonors Christ.
KLAUS: I can top that. You know the time that Jesus walked on the water to His disciples who were caught in a storm in the middle of the Sea of Galilee? Now, walking on water is not a hard thing to do if you are the Son of God. But this explanation said that the cold winds had partially frozen the lake surface and He was walking on a thin sheet of ice. (http://www.physorg.com/news63367761.html)
Now, think about it. From my years in Minnesota, I remember ice has to be four inches thick to support a man’s weight. But these experts are saying that such ice managed to form on the Sea of Galilee… and in stormy weather, too.ANNOUNCER: And ice doesn’t readily form on moving water.
KLAUS: Spoken like a boy from Michigan, Mark.
ANNOUNCER: Well, you need to know those things or you’ll lose your fishing shanty.
KLAUS: I’ll take your word for it! Well, the miracle-busters say that ice managed to form and Jesus was actually able to maneuver His way out to the disciples on that hidden ice. An amazing bit of skating in a storm, wouldn’t you say? And then they would have us believe that four inches of ice ended right at the side of the disciples’ boat… and the disciples never noticed any of it.
ANNOUNCER: Mental gymnastics.
KLAUS: I agree. But still the wrongful attempts to debunk the Lord goes on.
ANNOUNCER: And how do you reply?
KLAUS: We don’t; the Bible does. In Matthew 13 Jesus said that unbelieving people can hear and see things, but because of the hardness of their hearts they don’t get what God really wants to give them. Jesus said to His disciples who had difficulty believing, “Have you believed because you have seen Me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20: 29)
ANNOUNCER: And what about all the skeptics who say the church has been deceiving people over the centuries? That it’s been hiding the truth from them. What do you say to those … and those who are so eager to believe that?
KLAUS: We can confess, openly, honestly, that the church, as a human institution has made mistakes… done sins… committed errors, serious errors. The earthly institution of the Christian church has goofed and will continue to do so until Christ comes back. I also believe when the church makes a mistake, the Lord, who has an investment in sharing the Savior’s story of salvation with sinners, tries to call the church back.
ANNOUNCER: Boy, that sounds kind of “iffy.”
KLAUS: I know. Which is why I’m glad that our faith is not built upon my word, your word, or the opinion of any particular denomination.
ANNOUNCER: If it’s not based on those things, what is faith built on?
KLAUS: Faith is built upon God’s Word.
ANNOUNCER: And really, when you get right down to it, faith is created by God’s Word.
KLAUS: Psalm 119 says: “Forever, O Lord, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens. …Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” Jesus says: “Sanctify them in the truth; Your Word is truth” (John 17:17). Everything rises or falls based on whether you believe God’s Word to be the true Word of God.
ANNOUNCER: This has been a presentation of Lutheran Hour Ministries.
Music selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“O Christ, Our Light, O Radiance True” by Richard Resch. From With Angels & Archangels by the Kantorei (© 1998 Concordia Theological Seminary, Ft. Wayne, IN)
“Oh, For a Thousand Tongues to Sing” arranged by Timothy Moke and Georg Masanz. From Magnificent Christian Hymns, vol. 3 by Timothy Moke and Georg Masanz (© 2006 T. Moke Recordings)
“In Thee Have I Placed My Trust” by J.S. Bach. From Frederick Hohman & Johann Sebastian Bach by Frederick Hohman (© 1988 Pro Organo)