Starting Point: Why Story

Preached by Paul Stinnett on 2/18/24
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Transcript

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Hello, and welcome to the Kalamazoo church of Christ podcast. Thank you so much for listening. We're startup church. We just planted in September, 2020 and at the Kalamazoo church, we believe that Christianity is done best when it is done together. And so if you live in the Kalamazoo area, we would love to connect, be it coming to a Sunday service, one of our small groups, or even just grabbing coffee with a member to learn more. You can visit kalamazoo.church in order to do that. We pray that you are inspired by what you hear today. He's got a nice little bunny tail there. So as I spoke to our house church, one of the last times that we, uh, uh, got together, uh, we're the church's family, right? Right. So that makes this the family room. And that's what I want. That's the feeling that I want to project today. If we're brothers and sisters in Christ, that makes us family. And the interesting things about, uh, siblings, you know, brothers and sisters is that we don't get to choose who our brothers and sister is. That's totally up to God, right? You might, you might've noticed that and found that well-illustrated in your own physical family, but here we are today. We're gathered together as brothers and sisters in Christ, his church in the family room. I, uh, Lorraine had mentioned a little bit about, uh, the tough week, uh, that we have, you know, undergone and we're no different than, than you. I'm sure many of you have had, uh, difficult weeks. Uh, last Saturday, we, uh, most of, you know, Rachel, my daughter-in-law, uh, she lost. We got the call. I was actually at Walmart of all places Friday night trying to get some grocery shopping done and her grandma had a, um, um, uh, a brain aneurysm. She eventually passed overnight, so we got that word on Saturday. Then Saturday, we were at Lorraine's dad's house and then we got the call early Sunday morning last week that he had passed. In the middle of the week, I come down with this awful head cold. So this is nothing but the devil working, right? This has been on the books for some time, so we're just going to try to let that pass. In fact, I, uh, I'm, I'm, I'm fully medicated. In fact, the last dosage of, uh, drug should kick in right about now, so I think we're going to be okay. All right? Here we go. You can actually turn your Bibles over to, uh, Psalms chapter 107. We'll be spending a, um, some time, uh, in that particular book, in that chapter, Psalms 107. So, do you care if I swing by the old house, I asked expectantly. Sure she replied to my total surprise. We were making our way back, uh, home after spending a full day on the beach, a ritual we religiously observed two or three times each summer. Rine, my wife of 35 years, seemed content with a leisurely drive, absorbing the countryside and shielding her eyes from the sun that flashed between the trees, houses, and barns that we passed along the way. It had been years, 10 or, uh, 15 or 20, since I had last seen my childhood home, and I was both excited and nervous to see what had become of it. The house sat on an acre's worth of yard, surrounded by cornfields. A two-story farmhouse would have fit better, but this was a modest single-story dwelling, an 800-square-foot ranch with a full basement. And true to its age, it was dressed in aluminum siding, the white paint peeling off like a bad sunburn. From a distance, my eyes caught the familiar outline of the maple tree in the front yard. I saw myself pushing that lawnmower back and forth and back and forth, a task I inherited from my father at a young age. The L-shaped gravel driveway remained true to my memory, and I thought to myself, this could be the same dirt I walked on 40 years earlier. The front door of the house was centered, as seen from the street, rarely used and gave no compelling reason to enter. When we lived there, our primary entry was the side door at the end of the house, which led directly into the kitchen by veering to the left, avoiding the basement staircase straight ahead. But my domain was in that basement, along with our main living space consisting of an older three-piece sectional, bulky yet comfortable, sporting a two-tone black polyester fabric, an area rug, a 19-inch black and white television, and a wood-burning stove. Now a small window near the ceiling with a rusty metal frame rescued my otherwise dark bedroom. The exterior cement block walls were painted pastel blue and radiated cold regardless of the season. The two interior walls were paneled. One contained a full-length closet, the other appropriately decorated with Detroit sports team pennants, and a poster of a girl in short shorts on a skateboard holding an RC Cola. I knew I would lose many of you on that point right there. I loved living in the country. There must have been a formula that determined where we lived, because houses on farms were our default. They may have been cheaper to rent than those located closer to home, and regardless, I did not mind. The surrounding farmlands made our homes feel like homesteads with plenty to offer a boy and room to breathe. We moved to 60th Street in 1976 and lived there for four years, which for us was a borderline eternity. Now in the summer, I spent hours outside throwing my baseball against a weathered sheet of plywood stained with red paint marking the strike zone. I turned a circular cement slab destined to become a corn silo into a mini basketball court and often begged Dad to throw me the football as far as he could. Dad, I need a motorcycle, and I can afford this one, I pleaded. Yes, son, but I know nothing about working on these things, and when we have trouble, it will mean an expensive trip to the shop, he replied. Well, following a moment of negotiation, Dad relented and blessed the transaction. As I summoned the owner, I dug deep in the pocket for my hole of savings,$125. Fortunately it came with a helmet in better condition than the dirt bike and featured a full-face one-way visor I envisioned wearing looking back at those I would leave in my dust. Like most boys I hung out with, I now owned a motorcycle. The Suzuki 90 was mine and transported me through the acres of farmland adjacent to our home. Hi Mom, bye Mom, I shouted as I rushed inside the house to drop off my books from school and retrieve the keys to my newfound freedom. But before making it to the garage, Dad stopped me in the yard. The day you get cocky on that thing will be the day you get hurt, he warned. I know, Dad, I'll be careful. To his credit, he did not hound me about it. His only rule, outside of not getting cocky, was to stay off the paved roads. A two-trail led out from our garage, running between a silo, the silo pad I used to play basketball on, and another owl building. It was primarily used by the farmer's trucks and tractors, but it was perfect for my dirt bike. The wide knobby tires on my motorcycle cut through that sand, the mud, and the dirt as I traversed deeper into the fields. I did not wander off the two-trail too far. It was easy to lose your way once the corn grew taller than you. The whole experience was peaceful. I could go anywhere I wanted, think about the day, or try to forget it. Occasionally, I would stop riding, take off the helmet, and listen to the wind rustling through the corn. A stock pond near the back of the property fed the irrigation system, and I was both curious and scared of the oversized nozzle shooting water a hundred foot in each direction. But I was unlike most 14-year-old boys in that I used my motorcycle to deliver myself to remote prayer sites where I talked to God about 14-year-old boy concerns and the prospect of a church planting. My dad had mentioned the possibility, and I ran with it. I was determined to pray it into existence. Father in heaven, thank you for my life and my family. Thank you for my motorcycle. Father, please allow dad to start a new church. Please, father, help it to be a great church, a growing church, a church focused on winning souls for you. Help me to be a preacher, dad, just like dad. In Jesus's name, amen. After a long summer and many prayers surrounded by corn, the church became a reality, the spiritual epicenter of my young life. On Sunday, October 2nd, 1977, with little fanfare, 20 people gathered for the inaugural service of the Waterloo Church of Christ. This was as simple and ill-advised a beginning as one could imagine. There was no outside financial support. There were few individuals committed to the church plant outside of my family, and yet we started. Now, that is my story. Actually, that's a portion of my story. What about your story? See, our stories are very important, and they're very important if for no other reason than each and every single one of us present here today have one. Well, Paul, I really don't have a story. No, no, that's absolutely not true. That's 100% not true. You see, the insignificant details of our life, or so it seems, like this young kid riding his motorcycle back in the midst of cornfields, have great relevance to your life, your story, and dare I even say it, your salvation, which we're going to learn about a little bit later in the lesson. You see, there's significance in motorcycles when they're part of my story because that was my beginning. That's where I first learned how to pray. And the idea that it was in cornfields, that was, again, that's my story. Now, again, you have your story, and here's the thing about your story. You are the only one that can tell your story. I can't do it for you. I can't tell Spence's story. I can only tell mine, and you've just heard part of it. A lady named Leslie Leland Fields wrote a book that was entitled Your Story Matters, and she quotes Patricia Hample by saying this, For we do not, after all, simply have experiences. We are entrusted with them. Let me repeat that. For we do not, after all, simply have experiences. We are entrusted with them. Let's break for that for just a moment. If we are entrusted with something, we are responsible for something, right? That is the case with our story. We must do something with it. We must make something of it. And then she asked the question, are we to remain silent, or do we welcome the burden of witnessing? Wow. Are we to remain silent today as the church, as individual members of this church body, as individual members of this family today? Are we to remain silent, or do we take on the burden, yes, even the command, I might add, of witnessing? I think that's what Psalms chapter 107 is trying to get us to see. Let's turn over there and read the first few verses. 107, Psalms 107, one through, well, at least the first couple of verses here. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever. It starts out pretty good, right? Pretty innocuous, something that we all can accept, right? Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever. Then he continues. Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story. In other translations, it says, let the redeemed of the Lord say so. He's not saying, hey, I think this is a good idea, folks. He is telling us, let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story. Why is this story so important? Well, let's continue on. Those he redeemed from the land of the foe. Have we not been redeemed from the land of the foe today? For those he gathered from the lands from the east and the west, from the north and the south. You see, it indicates here that we all have different experiences. We all have different backgrounds, right? But he tells all the redeemed of the Lord to say so. Bring that story up. Let's hear your story. Give voice to your story. I want to direct your attention for a little bit lengthier reading to the book of Acts. Acts chapter 17, verses 16 through 28. Acts 17, 16 through 28. I'm going to tell you straight up. This is more of my story. I fell in love with this passage of scripture and even put most of it to memory at one point in time. I'll tell you how long ago that was, is that my new international version, the one I memorize in it, has that version's been updated by another version and maybe another version, OK? So if I were to try to quote it today, it would probably look foreign to what you have in your scripture today, OK? So let's just begin in verse number 16 and read through this. All right, Paul. Now, while Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols. So he reasoned in the synagogue with both Jews and God-fearing Greeks, as well as in the marketplace day by day with those who happened to be there. Now, a group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers began to debate with him. Some of them asked, what is this babbler trying to say? And others remarked, he seems to be advocating foreign gods. They said this because Paul was preaching the good news about Jesus and his resurrection. Then they took him and brought him to a meeting of the Areopagus, where they said to him, may we know this new teaching is that you are presenting? You are bringing some strange ideas to our ears, and we would like to know what they mean. Now, all of the Athenians and foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking and listening to the latest ideas. Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said, people of Athens, I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and observed your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription, to an unknown God. So you are ignorant of the very thing that you worship, and this is what I am going to proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth, and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man, he made all the nations that they should inhabit the whole earth, and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being, as some of your own poets have said, we are his offspring. Isn't that amazing? Isn't that awesome? We could spend, oh my gosh, days and weeks and months contemplating what was written here in the book of Acts by Luke. Here's a few observations that I wrote down. Now, this is more of my recent history, and this really is more my recent story. It was after the church here began meeting together, and I began reflecting upon this passage a little more seriously and maybe with a little more intent. Here's some of the things that I wrote down at that point. As a young man, I was intrigued with the latter part of Acts chapter 17, the narrative of the apostle Paul addressing the crowd assembled on Mars Hill to the extent that I placed it to memory. And he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live, Acts 17 26. I have argued that these words give our present lives meaning and purpose, the time in which we live, our residences, and our employers are not a coincidence, nor are the unique circumstances that define our lives. But a fresh approach has broadened my understanding. A simple deduction would affirm that if the divine could order our lives in such a manner today, then he did also 20 years ago. And there has never been, nor will there ever be, a moment in my life or yours apart from his choosing. Let that sink in. The psalmist states it perfectly, your eyes saw my unformed being. And all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Psalms 139 verses 16 and six. Too wonderful, too lofty for me to attain. You know, I wrestle with this intellectual gap, but marvel at its implications. The resulting corollary suggests a question. Why have certain events happened in my life, especially those that have ended in pain, confusion, heartache, leaving me stranded on a dead end road without recourse or explanation? I find the satisfactory response elusive. While at times frustrating, I'm not discouraged for by merely asking the question, am I not conceding the limits of my intellect? If something does not make sense, it does not necessarily mean that it doesn't make sense, but rather that it doesn't make sense to me. And so my mind wanders, fearing a discovery that complicates. I'm not a theologian nor scholar, so only a concise, simple, and straightforward explanation will suffice. Please center in with me here. God did this. God did everything that he's done. He knew every day about you before you live one of them. He knows the word completely when it's on your tongue before you state it. He knows of the situation that's happening right here and right now. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. Acts chapter 17, verse 27. Luke asserts that the times and the places God preordained for us to occupy had one singular goal, and that goal was to provide the framework in which for each of us to seek and to find him. Essentially, that's it. It's God's way of saving me. That's the only explanation that I can come up with. God ordained my place and time, knowing that he would have to start not today, but at the beginning of my life. A moment in time, surrounded by eternity that he's already lived in. When I did not know him, he would begin at birth. He would enlist friends and neighbors, parents, preachers, teachers, jobs, health issues, good and bad relationships. My childhood years, my teenage years, my young adult years, my wife, my children, and a myriad of other people, maybe in this audience here today, not wasting a single solitary moment, but each element beckoning me a little closer to God. It's his way of saving me. So when we look at our lives, and we look at these individual details and think they're insignificant, you're wrong. You're wrong. It's of great importance. How else do you explain the importance of a motorcycle in my life? A stupid piece of machinery that's gonna turn to dust. Probably already has at this point. From our stories, these little elements in our lives define a narrative that we can share, no, that we have to share. The burden of witnessing with our other fellow believers in Christ, but also those who have not come to know him yet. Why? Because they have a story too. Come on, drugs, hang in there just a little bit longer. Let's turn our Bibles to 1 Peter. 1 Peter chapter three, 15 and 16. What time we got? Oh, okay. We'll do this as quick as we can. 1 Peter chapter three, verses 15 and 16. But in your hearts, revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have, but do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. All right, notice what Peter does not say here. He does not ask us to be prepared to recite every Bible verse on a given topic. Peter does not encourage us to be prepared to nail down all the important doctrinal points that we find in scripture. Peter does not ask us to be prepared to uphold the traditions of our specific faith community, but he does ask us to be prepared to give the answer for the reason for the hope that you have. Our reason is simply Christ himself. Jesus is the reason, we've heard it, right? It's not just true at Christmas time, it's true today. Jesus is the reason. What is our hope? Jesus is the reason for the hope that we have. I see our hope is our story. Our story that says, you know what makes a great story? When there's somebody who has screwed up so bad, so horribly bad that they can do nothing to help themselves and they're there left, and then point number two, somebody comes in that rescues us in that situation. Well, guess what? We all qualify, right? That's a great story. We're dying to hear yours. And this hope that we talk about, this hope of reflecting back on our lives and telling our stories to others, this isn't a hope-so hope. This is a no-so hope, and there's a big difference between the... You can hope for a million dollars today. Chances are you're gonna go to bed broke this evening. That would be my guess, kind of like me, right? That's not like the hope that we have. The hope that we have is sure, because we have seen it. Haven't you experienced that, your story? And we haven't seen how God has taken us through these times. We just don't know how much left, right? But we do know our destination point, do we not? Amen, amen, Paul. I've asked a few gentlemen today to help me out with a few short stories. And we find these recorded back in Psalms 107, where we started today. So turn your Bibles back to 107. I've asked Spence first to start us off. And reading just a few verses, Psalms 107, four through nine. Spence, can you do that for us? I got you, Paul. Starting in verse four. Some wandered in desert wasteland, finding no way to a city where they could settle. They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives abed away. Then they cried out to the Lord in their troubles, and he delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way to a city where they could settle. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. For he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. Wow. I wonder if you have found yourself here. Maybe this could be part of your story. Maybe not. We're not trying to make your story. We're just trying to identify, number one, what the writer of Psalms is writing here. But I think I find elements of the stories listed here in my own life. This first portion that Spence read for us is a story of loneliness to community. And I like how in each of these segments that we're going to read today, we find ourselves in an unhopeful situation that turns into a hopeful situation. Did you notice when he said in verse number four, some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way to a city where they could settle. They were hungry and thirsty and their lives ebbed away. Have you felt that disconnected before? If you have, I'm right there with you, right? I've felt that way. I've felt isolated. I have felt all by myself, lonely, tired, ready to give it up, right? But then thank God, he continues. They were hungry and thirsty, their lives ebbed away, verse number six. They cried out to the Lord in their trouble and he delivered them from their distress. Another making, another great story, right? Somebody who can't help themselves and God pulled them out of the mire. Who do we have next? Keith, will you stand and read Psalms 107, 10 through 16. Some sat in darkness, in utter darkness, prisoners suffering in iron chains, because they rebelled against God's commandments and despised the plans of the Most High. So, he suffered them before they could be stumbled and there was no one to help them. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness, in utter darkness, and broke away their chains. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. For he breaks down gates of brown and cuts through bars of iron. Thank you, Keith. Same type of situation, a little bit different scenario, right? He begins in verse 10. Some sat in darkness, in utter darkness, prisoners suffering in iron chains. Now, those iron chains may have been real or maybe they just could have been representing something. How many of you have been in a dark place in your life before? Again, I think we all can relate, all right? We've been shackled by bad thoughts. Perhaps it's just something mental that we just can't get over. Perhaps it's the realization of where we are in life. We're without hope, without Christ. And so, this could be part of your story. One of distress that will lead to deliverance if we choose our great hope in Christ. Psalms 107, 17 through 22. I've asked Cal if he will stand and read this, please. Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of the inequity. They loved all truth and drew near the gates of death. Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble and he saved them from their distress. He sent out his word and healed them. He rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. Let them sacrifice thanks offering and tell of his work with song of joy. I think this is a broad enough one that each of us have experienced at least a little bit of this because he begins by stating, some became fools through their own rebellious ways. We've all been there, right? It's just a matter of, when are we going to acknowledge that? And when are we going to acknowledge our hope? Again, a story of rebellion to worship. Finally, our brother Tony coming from the back is going to read Psalms 107, 23 through 32. Right, wow. Thank you, Tony. Thank you brothers for helping me out there a little bit this morning. So some went out to seas and ships. They were merchant on the mighty waters. I would think that they would be successful, that they are able to sell their goods and make money and do business. And then trouble came, right? Things kind of fell apart. And now what do we do? And I think to a large extent, all of us are part of that story too because who needs God when we're doing well, right? He usually has to bring us down a notch or two or maybe we have to hit rock bottom before we're able to listen. I hope that you'll go home this afternoon, this week, maybe brush up on these stories a little bit more. But most importantly, I hope that you will go home and reflect back on your story and always be prepared to share with others. Give the reason for the hope that you have. Gonna leave you with just a couple of concluding remarks and then we'll end in prayer here this morning. The alarm went off at the customary hour, 5 a.m. As my eyes struggled to focus, I hit snooze to enjoy a few extra moments of nothing. I finally convinced myself to rise, motivated almost exclusively by the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. I passed my wife on the way to the kitchen, smile, offer a good morning and a kiss and settle in my chair at the dining table. Another day is about to begin. Another day fully imagined an eternity ago by the maker of the universe to draw me closer to him. Humbling. But it's his way of saving me. Church, I want us to stand. I want us to pray as Jesus taught his disciples today as we dismiss. And after our prayer, need for you parents to go get your kids from a kid's kingdom. Let's pray. Our father in heaven, how would be your name? Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever. Amen. You're dismissed. Thank you so much for listening to the Kalamazoo Church of Christ podcast. If you're in the Kalamazoo area, we'd love to get connected. Please go to kalamazoo.church and fill in your information to come to a Sunday service or any other event that we have going on. In any case, you'll be hearing from us next week.