Tonight we gather together on the eve of a national election to carry out the Spirit’s words to us in 1 Timothy 2:1-4: I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.

Prayer before Worship: Heavenly Father, we gather together this evening to call on your name. You establish every earthly authority. You are in control of all things. We ask you to bless our country through the officials who will be elected. We also implore you to bless us with your Spirit as we worship so that we remember that in all things you are the ultimate source of all good things. Amen.

As Jesus concluded his Bread of Life discourse, many said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?” and walked away. Read carefully. They did not say the teaching was hard to understand. The meaning was clear enough. Jesus was teaching that the only chance to enjoy eternity in heaven is through a close connection to him. He is the only bread that gives eternal life. That isn’t hard to understand, but it is hard to accept. Eating this bread means reordering our lives so that Jesus is by far our highest priority. It means loving the Blesser infinitely more than his earthly blessings. It means realizing that Jesus is the only thing we really need. If we had nothing but him, we would not lack anything that ultimately matters.

Jesus watches the multitudes walking away from him. He turns to the Twelve—he turns to us this week—and he whispers, “You do not want to leave me too, do you?” May the Spirit give us the wisdom to answer, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

A platitude is a statement aimed at helping sooth some sort of emotional unease. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or “Life is a mystery.” Or “Good things come to those who wait.” While platitudes may be well-intentioned, at best they come off as trite. And since platitudes provide no real help, they can actually make a situation worse. Tell the one whose heart is shattering, “Life is a mystery.” They won’t appreciate your platitude or you.

The resurrection gives believers the ability to offer more than platitudes. We have a meaningful message to share—of repentance, of forgiveness, of peace, of power. The reality is we have something important to say to every single person that God brings into our sphere of influence. And our risen Savior gives us the courage and power to share that meaningful message.

Most religions believe in a powerful God. It is assumed that God will use that strength for the benefit of His followers. That is a reasonable assumption, but it begs the question. What is real strength? It is easy to assume that real strength means exerting your will over another by using any means necessary, including force. But this week we see Jesus Christ demonstrate a different kind of strength.

We have come to Holy Week. It begins with Jesus humbly riding a donkey colt straight into the hands of His enemies. As the week progresses, it will appear that Christ’s adversaries are the ones in a position of power and Jesus is in a position of weakness. Yet what Christ does this Holy Week—setting His divine strength aside, being passive in the face of death—would change the world. To do what Christ did for us and our salvation took real strength.

Most religions believe in a powerful God. It is assumed that God will use that strength for the benefit of His followers. That is a reasonable assumption, but it begs the question. What is real strength? It is easy to assume that real strength means exerting your will over another by using any means necessary, including force. But this week we see Jesus Christ demonstrate a different kind of strength.

We have come to Holy Week. It begins with Jesus humbly riding a donkey colt straight into the hands of His enemies. As the week progresses, it will appear that Christ’s adversaries are the ones in a position of power and Jesus is in a position of weakness. Yet what Christ does this Holy Week—setting His divine strength aside, being passive in the face of death—would change the world. To do what Christ did for us and our salvation took real strength.

When we feel that the world is against us, it is easy to feel self-pity. We make ourselves the victims and wallow in our trouble. Jesus refused to do that, though. Rather, He felt compassion for those He knew would suffer after Him and even forgave those crucifying Him. Likewise, rather than pitying ourselves, we feel pity for those who have no idea of the destruction that awaits them and want them to know the Father’s forgiveness.

We know that the cross was an instrument of torture and execution. However, Scripture also uses the term “cross” to refer to any suffering that one endures because he is believer: the painful denial of the desires of the flesh; ridicule and persecution from unbelievers; etc. This is one reason people reject religion. They see Christians struggling in life with these crosses, while non-Christians often seem perfectly happy. Even the prophet Jeremiah asked, “Why do all the faithless live at ease?” (12:1).

Today, Jesus asks us to rethink suffering under the cross. It is not pointless pain. Our crosses are not how we pay for sin. Jesus already did that on His cross. Our crosses are not redemptive, but they are constructive. Any suffering unbelievers face is only bad, a foretaste of worse to come. But the suffering believers face under the cross is only good, a way Christ connects us tightly to Himself with fire-tested faith.

Good News of Great Joy! The King shall come–just as promised.

This midweek Advent Sermon Series tells the stories of the clothing of the King. Stories that describe a wardrobe at once splendid and sin-stained, with fabrics that reveal who we are and cover us all the same. The clothing of the King is tattered and worn and glorious in its incorruptibility. It isn’t ours, yet He gives it to us freely.