John 1:29-42

John 1:29-42 (NRSV)

²⁹ The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! ³⁰ This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ³¹ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” ³² And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. ³³ I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ ³⁴ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.”

³⁵ The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, ³⁶ and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” ³⁷ The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. ³⁸ When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” ³⁹ He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. ⁴⁰ One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. ⁴¹ He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). ⁴² He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

John 1:29-42 contains two segments that I will discuss separately.

We have a testimony by John the Baptist to Jesus. Jesus is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. John the Baptist received divine revelation to see who Jesus is. In Isaiah 53:7, the suffering servant is willing to sacrifice his life for the people of God. The Passover lamb that the Jewish people eat is a sign of deliverance. I would refer to I John, where we find Jesus is the atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world (2:2), that God sent the Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins (4:10), and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin (1:7). John recognizes that Jesus has priority. He saw the Spirit of God come upon Jesus at baptism. This reminds us of the servant of the Lord in Isaiah, on whom the Spirit of the Lord rests (11:2, 42:1) and thereby anoints the servant to bring good news to the oppressed, to bring healing to the brokenhearted, and to release people from the prison they have made for themselves (61:1). The Spirit is empowering the Son to glorify the Father. The Spirit fills Jesus at the beginning of his public ministry. At the beginning of his gospel, John continues to make clear who Jesus is. 

John 1:29-34 is the testimony of John the Baptist concerning Jesus. We find a similar account in Mark 1:9-11, Matthew 3:13-17, and Luke 3:21-22. ²⁹ The next day he, the focus of this passage is not Jesus, but rather, the witnessing faith of John the Baptist, saw (βλέπει) Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God (ὁ Ἀμνὸς τοῦ Θεοῦ) who takes away the sin of the world! Interestingly, in the Old Testament, the only expiatory offering for sin was the goat. The title could refer to the Paschal lamb, a sign of deliverance for the Jewish people, offered on the eve of Passover and eaten on the first night of this holy day with bitter herbs and matzo. A second possible reference is to Isaiah 53:7 and the suffering servant, one willing to sacrifice for the people of God. Third, Jewish apocalyptic could refer to the conquering lamb who will destroy evil in the world, a background that would fit the message of John the Baptist. In some ways, if we go to the letters of John, the image of the suffering servant and the Passover may best explain what John means. Christ is the atoning sacrifice for our sins and for those of the world (2:2), God sent the Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins (4:10), the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin (1:7), and he came by water and the blood (5:6). ³⁰ This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ If we think of what John the Baptist might mean, he was undoubtedly thinking of Elijah, who was “before” him by some 900 years. However, if we think of John the writer of this gospel, he is thinking of the preexistent Logos of the prologue. John the writer is placing profound Christology on the lips of the John the Baptist. ³¹ I myself did not know him, a fact he shares with the world (verse 10), although he will know him because he gains special insight into the divinity of Jesus, but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” ³² And John testified, “I saw (Τεθέαμαι) the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. The imagery goes back to Isaiah, where people who walked and lived in profound darkness have seen a great light (9:2), the Spirit of the Lord rests upon a new ruler, giving him wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, and the fear of the Lord (11:2), the Spirit of the Lord is upon the chosen servant of the Lord (42:1), and the Spirit of the Lord is upon the servant of the Lord, anointing him to bring good to the oppressed, heal the brokenhearted, and bring liberty to captives (61:1). We have here the Spirit already has a part in the mutual glorification of the Father and the Son, for the Son glorifies the Father in the power of the Spirit.^[1] 33 I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see (ἴδῃς) the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ ³⁴ And I myself have seen (ἑώρακα) and have testified (μεμαρτύρηκα) that this is the Son of God.” We need to stress that God has filled the pre-Easter Jesus with the Spirit.^[2] The distinction John the Baptist makes between baptism with water and the Spirit is one that Christian baptism makes outdated. John testifies that this one, Jesus, is the Son of God. We could call this the theological bombshell, in which readers are to make no mistake as to who Jesus is.^[3] Crucial here is the realization that the movement from ignorance to testimony is not merely an intellectual journey. Rather, it is part of coming to terms with divine revelation. We can take or leave divine revelation, but never produce it ourselves.

After September 11, 2001, my first reaction was anger at what had been done to thousands of my fellow citizens. Yet, I must also confess that another response was one of shame. When authorities identified the hijackers and the media displayed their pictures or the world to see, I felt shame. After all, I am a human being. As a card-carrying member of the human race, I have a stake in humanity doing well and looking good. Those suicidal hijackers, who caused the deaths of so many innocent people, stared back at me from my television screen. How is it possible for members of the human race, fellow citizens of the world, to fill themselves with so much hate, to be so vengeful for people they have not even met, that they would do something like this? Of course, the question is naïve and innocent. The answer is that human beings do this all the time. Pick up a history book and there is the story for all to see. 

Fleming Rutledge notes in a sermon that during the genocidal slaughter in Rwanda a few years ago, many people sought refuge in churches. Even the welcome of the churches did not protect them. Thousands were murdered. Journalists were later shown their stacks of mutilated and decaying bodies, the blood-spattered walls of the churches. Rutledge said that a reporter asked a French priest who had survived the massacre if these experiences had shaken his faith in God. “Absolutely not,” the priest replied. “But what happened in this country had destroyed my faith in humanity forever.”[4] Thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, died in Rwanda. This fact repulses those of us in “civilized nations.” Yet it is worth noting that our civilized nation did virtually nothing in response to the Rwandan tragedies, certainly nothing on the scale of our retaliation for the deaths of the Americans killed on September 11.

Many have noted that the 20th century was perhaps the bloodiest century of all of humanity. If you count the killings, the wars, the Nazi Holocaust, the murders, more people were murdered (by their own government!) than in war during. Perhaps we thought with a “new world order” we were growing out of such horrors. And then during the first year of a new century, there was September 11, the destruction of the World Trade Center and the attack of the Pentagon, followed by two wars, and we were off to a new century. 

It really is enough to make one have a sense of shame at being a member of the human race. Perhaps I am being too dramatic. Forget how we act on a large scale – in mobs, in violence worked by nations in the name of national self-interest. Look at us as individuals. A number of years ago when novelist William Golding, author of Lord of the Flies, received the Nobel Prize for literature, a reporter asked Golding what he had learned in his lifetime of observing humanity. Golding replied, “I have learned that humanity makes evil the same way that a bee makes honey.”

Likewise, when Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn received the Nobel Prize, during a subsequent interview, Solzhenitsyn said something to the effect that the only difference between an ordinary person and Attila the Hun is that Attila had an army. All of our little, daily meanness and viciousness, our failures at love, marriage, friendship, or even getting along in a Christian congregation – if one really thinks about it, is enough to fill one with shame. It was Paul, Saint Paul, who said so well, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but the very thing I hate” (Rom 7:15). 

Christians have a word for the source of this shame – sin. We are sinners, all of us. Some of us sin by dropping bombs from airplanes upon defenseless villages. Others of us sin by commandeering a plane and destroying hundreds of helpless people. Most of us sin in much less spectacular, but in equally hurtful ways. Our little lies, our cuts, deceits, and hurt of others, as Paul says, “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” 

I have all this on my mind because John the Baptist calls Jesus, “The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (Jn 1:29). As we have noted, the world is full of sin, lots of it – our sin. What does it mean that this “Lamb of God” is able to take away such sin? He came into the world and the world knew him not, the world received him not. And yet, “For God so loved the world,” that Jesus came among us. This world, this hurting, terribly sinful world, is the world that God loves, that God enters, and that God embraces in Jesus. We have slaughtered the Lamb, even as the Jewish people slaughtered the lamb for their sin in the temple on the Day of Atonement. Here is the lamb that takes away the great burden, the great guilt and shame of the world, by entering the world, by becoming human.

 

After a testimony like that, we ought not to have surprise that some of the disciples of John the Baptist begin to follow Jesus. John the Baptist points to Jesus, declares him to him as the Lamb of God, and two of his disciples follow Jesus. Andrew was one of them, and he will bring his brother Simon to Jesus. Jesus will immediately give him a new name, Cephas or Peter. John is inviting us to put ourselves in the position of these first disciples. They have made the decisive step. We need to keep our eyes open to see Jesus for who he is and to follow Jesus. 

John 1:35-42 has two disciples of John the Baptist and Simon Peter coming to Jesus. ³⁵ The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, ³⁶ and as he watched (ἐμβλέψας) Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look (Ἴδε), here is the Lamb of God!” ³⁷ The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus has his first two disciples due to the witness of John the Baptist.³⁸ When Jesus turned and saw (θεασάμενος) them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” Such a question may well confront all future followers of Jesus. They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), a favorite term in John for Jesus, “where are you staying?” ³⁹ He said to them, “Come and see (ὄψεσθε).” They came and saw (εἶδαν) where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. ⁴⁰ One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. ⁴¹ He first found his brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Anointed). ⁴² He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter). Name changes were highly significant in Jewish history. In Genesis 17:5 and 32:28, name changes occur in direct relationship to the individual's role in salvation history. Abram becomes Abraham, since he will be the ancestor of a multitude of nations (Genesis 17:15), and Jacob becomes Israel, since he has striven with God and humans and have prevailed (Genesis 32:28). John makes the connection between Simon's new name and his future role even more acute than the other gospels by giving the Greek transliteration of Peter's Aramaic name - Kepha, a name identical to the Aramaic for "rock" (kepha). (John stretches the pun a bit in Greek where we must compare Petros must with petra.) Simply by having "looked at him" (v. 42), Jesus detected enough of Peter's strength of character to name him as future symbol of an unyielding person of faith.   Jesus knows him and chooses him. Further, we see here a model for discipleship. John callus upon readers of this text to keep their eyes open, be ready to bear witness to their experiences of Jesus’ holiness, and follow when Jesus beckons, “Come and see” (v. 39). Disciples are meant to be actively mindful and mindfully active when it comes to anticipating and then responding to the initiatives of God in Christ.

Jesus as the “true witness” to God, but Jesus then calls people to witness in the world with him. Of course, we find no “calling” of Jesus. We do find a calling of the first disciples. In discussing the New Testament basis for his notion of witness, this passage is the place to begin. The phrase, “follow me,” so prominent in the Synoptic calls stories, is not present here. John turns to Andrew first, moving the Eastern branch of Christianity to celebrate him as the first one called. Jesus does not call the first disciples verbally in verses 35-51. Rather, as soon as they saw Jesus, they spontaneously followed him. In the passage before us, what we see are disciples of John the Baptist who met Jesus in company with John and attached themselves to Jesus when they heard John refer to Jesus as the Lamb of God. Simon comes when Andrew said that we have found the Messiah. Throughout the passage, they have taken the decisive step themselves with an astonishing freedom and necessity. They have no task or mission. We might even ponder whether this passage is even a calling at all. For John, it clearly is. Yet, in this coming of the disciples to Jesus, the decisive acting Subject both in His own sight and theirs is Jesus Himself. Therefore, Jesus is the one doing the calling, even if we find no verbal calling in his presentation. The priority of Jesus is the presupposition of the entire passage. The passage is “a strangely original statement” which we need to set alongside that of the Synoptic Gospels. What the Johannine account intends to say is that the encounter of these people with the man Jesus is strong enough to bring into effect their relationship of discipleship to Jesus as something already resolved concerning them. He calls them as they become aware of the existence of Jesus and of the determination of their own existence for discipleship. He speaks, calls, and summons by the presence of Jesus. What Jesus calls them to is a highly practical recognition of the existence of Jesus and commitment to it. In the confession of Andrew, Philip, and Nathaniel, they have accepted their task and are already engaged in discharging it.[5]

John the Baptist bears witness to Jesus. He recognizes that the Holy Spirit is with Jesus in a special way, which then allows him to see with clarity. He moves from ignorance to discovery, and in doing so, he helps us make the same move. 

He calls Jesus the “lamb of God.” What could John have meant? The Jewish people killed a lamb for a meal that they ate in their homes. It was the “paschal lamb.” Observant Jews are to bring the sacrifice that the Torah mandates on the eve of Passover and eat it on the first night of the holiday with bitter herbs and matzo. According to the Torah, they offered it on the night of the Israelites' Exodus from Egypt. A person with right intention had to be the one to offer the sacrifice. The sacrifice occurred at the temple. A lay person made the sacrifice, but a priest brought some of the blood to the altar and sprinkled it on the altar. In this case, Jesus could be the “lamb of God” who brings deliverance and who establishes community and fellowship as a people of God. In Isaiah 53:7, the servant of the Lord becomes a lamb, willing to offer his life for his people. Later, in verse 10, he becomes an offering for sin. Note I John 3:5, proving that "the sin" is the whole collective weight of sin which burdens humanity.  This must mean his vicarious, expiatory or death, note I John 2:2, 4:10, 1:7, 5:6.  

In verse 38, we read the first words of Jesus' in John's gospel.  As the men begin to trail after him, Jesus turns and asks them, "What are you looking for?"  It may in fact stand as the initial question confronting all readers of this gospel and all future disciples of Jesus Christ.

I invite you to ponder the scene with me. Frankly, if this were a spiritual formation time, I would invite you to close your eyes, imagine, and then write in your journal. However, if you have time, soon, ponder this passage. Each of the gospels has their accounts of Jesus taking the initiative and calling the first disciples. As John relates the story in this passage, it provides a model for discipleship. The passage calls upon readers to keep their ears open to the witness concerning Jesus, follow when Jesus beckons, and be ready to bear witness to their experiences of Jesus “Come and see” (v. 39). A follower of Jesus responds to the initiatives they hear from God. The call they hear will come through the testimony of other people, but they will hear it as pointing them to Christ. They will make a move from ignorance of what God was doing in Christ to witnessing to what God was doing in Christ. This will not be simply an intellectual journey. They will need to spend time with Christ to discern the ways of God in his life.

The first response by the disciples to the question by Jesus is Rabbi, where are you staying. Let us ponder for a few moments what motivated the disciples to ask that question.

First, could the question of the disciples be a diversion? Why did they not tell Jesus what they wanted? Truth is that it is quite possible they - like many of us - did not know what they wanted or what they were looking for. They had a vague sense that they wanted what most people want: a comfortable lifestyle, good health, children who are successful, security for our golden years, and have some fun along the way. As an afterthought, somewhere in us, we want to help other people.  We want nothing from Jesus, except to leave us alone. We want no challenges, no discomfort, and no directing us away from our desires and wants.

Second, could the question of the disciples simply express caution? I like this option. In other words, "Where are you making your home in the world?" Jesus said to them, as he says to us, "Come and see," and he took them to where he was staying. Jesus showed them hospitality. He took these disciples where they were, to give them an opportunity to go where he wanted them to go. They stayed with him for an entire day, and, as it turned out, stayed with him for the rest of their lives (vv. 38-39).

Caution is a good thing. God often whispers and we are not always good at listening. People can say God has spoken. Yet, we might legitimately ask, upon reflection, “Did God Say That?” Bill Hybels says, “I can’t tell you how many jobs have been lost, educations have been foregone, marriages have been destroyed, bank accounts have been blown, all because someone felt sanctioned by God to take a particular action. We need to be careful when we think we are hearing the voice of God, and that is what the disciples were doing here.”

Third, the question of the disciples was an expression of commitment. They were saying, "Teacher, let us join with you and be your students."  His answer is an invitation, "Come and see."  They may have known it would take time to know what it meant to follow. Is that the reason people come to church today?  Attending church is not the way to climb in social circle anymore. In many parts of America, attending church is a negative. It may well be that they are continuing their spiritual search when they walk through the doors of our churches. At one time, we were all seekers, and then some of us have “found” that which we sought in Jesus Christ. Yet, in one sense, you never stop being a seeker. One may be in church to tend to the lifetime mission of growing a soul.

Jesus can be difficult for us to see, but often because we look for him in all the wrong places and in all the wrong ways. We want to see Jesus, but our preconceived notions blind us. One thing that bothers me about Christian political organizations, whether “right” or “left,” is that both seem to presume so much about Jesus. They know how Jesus would vote, how Jesus would balance the budget, and on and on. The Jesus we see is all too often the Jesus we make in our own image.

The point is this: Disciples are those who want to stay with Jesus, wherever that stay may be and wherever it may take them. 

Fourth, Jesus knows what you want. In fact, Jesus knows what you really want, better than you do. Among the disciples were some who looked for healing, a fight, entertainment, a straightforward way into heaven, and loaves and fishes. Among us are some who want health and wealth guaranteed, or a quick and easy route to God and the will of God. Jesus asked a question for the ages: "What are you looking for?" Quite honestly, you will not find it at the mall, Wal-Mart, or your favorite on-line store. Each one of us has a hole in the heart that only Christ can fill. Yet, Jesus calls what he offers "abundant life" (John 10:10). We think we want so many things. Jesus knows we want “abundant life.” Therefore, when Jesus calls us to "Come and see," he is talking about that abundant life. Come and see what abundant life is all about. Come and see what a life of meaning and purpose and service to God looks like. 

I could stop here and offer an invitation. I would be less than honest if I did not make a proper warning when it comes to following Jesus.

Fifth, if you are to follow Jesus, Jesus may lead you to challenging places. I want to share a little history, but not the dry rendition of facts. I want to share a history that is also a powerful story.

Suzanne and I saw a wonderful movie called Hidden Figures (2016). It is a story of three people behind the scenes working to get astronauts into space and home again. Along the way, it showed what race relations were like in Virginia and federal government institutions in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Thankfully, the country has come a long way. However, we need to remember that journey had an excessive cost. Many Christian leaders were willing to go to challenging places. 

When Jesus asked Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to "come and see," King had no idea that the place Jesus wanted him to see was the inside of a Birmingham jail. The jail was not a particularly charming or comfortable place to lodge when he checked in during April of 1963. King was part of the civil rights protests staged in that city. Police commissioner "Bull" Connor pledged to incarcerate every African American who challenged segregation. On Good Friday afternoon, King was among 54 marchers whom the police arrested and threw in jail for violating an injunction against "parading, demonstrating, boycotting, trespassing and picketing." Authorities forbade them to engage in "conduct customarily known as 'kneel-ins' in churches." They singled out King, denying him the chance to make phone calls or talk to his lawyers. He had no mattress or linen. He slept on metal slats. Yet, Martin Luther King Jr. was staying with Jesus. He wrote his "Letter from Birmingham Jail." It might surprise us now that he wrote the letter to liberal, white clergy who were urging people to withdraw from the demonstrations, which they called "unwise and untimely." In his letter, he stressed that it was always time to do the right thing. The white moderate might be more of an obstacle than is the KKK. They devote themselves to order more than to justice. They try to set the timetable for the freedom of others. Those who have never experienced the oppressive force of segregation find it easy to say to those who do that they should wait.[6] Back in 1963, who was really staying with Jesus? I urge you to read his justly famous, “I Have a Dream” speech. Read it to your children and grandchildren. The audio is available.

Tom Long completes the Martin Luther King Jr. story in a story of which we need to hear more. I like this story because it reminds us that transformation and reconciliation can happen. He happened to be in Alabama on the 25th anniversary of the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery. The man who was the mayor of Selma, Alabama in 1965 was the mayor 25 years later. He was standing on the platform at the anniversary. Beside him was George Wallace in a wheelchair. Behind him were people who had marched, now aging and graying. He looked at the crowd and said, "Twenty-five years ago Governor Wallace and I were wrong. We were wrong. We thought this was outside agitation - we did not know that it was the coming of justice."

Jesus invites us to "come and see" what he is up to, and he promises that if we stay with him, we will have an even more awesome and life changing experience. 

If we stay with Jesus, it may lead to some wonderful places. Yet, it may also lead the Birmingham jail. Undoubtedly, there will be times when Jesus may lead you to places you would not normally go, such as a natural disaster, a ministry among AIDS patients, a demonstration, and a mission trip. We are talking about risk-taking mission and service here. Jesus may lead you to a classroom, a community, the home of a neighbor, a hospital. Whatever. 

I hope you get my point. Jesus is a traveling man. We need to keep traveling with him, wherever he wants to take us. When Jesus finally asks you by name, "What are you looking for?" the best you can say is: Jesus, where will you be staying tonight? We need to keep inviting Jesus to come into increasingly more of our lives. Have you invited Jesus into your life?

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[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 626.

[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 6.

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 260.

[4]  (Fleming Rutledge, Selected Sermons, “Dies, Ires,” pp. 1–9.)

[5] Karl Barth (Church Dogmatics, IV.3 [71.4], p. 584-5).

[6] I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block is not the White Citizen's Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to 'order' than to justice, who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice, who constantly says "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action," who paternalistically believes that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom.

 

I Corinthians 1:1-9

I Corinthians 1:1-9 (NRSV)

 Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes,

² To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours:

³ Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 

⁴ I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, ⁵ for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind— ⁶ just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you— ⁷ so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁸ He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹ God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

            I Corinthians 1:1-9 is the introduction of the letter. In context, we should note the major themes in this introduction point to problems that this congregation has asked Paul to address. One could say he begins gently, even while he will soon address some difficult matters.

¹Paul begins by identifying himself, not just by name, but also with his personal qualifications that denote his authority. He is an apostle of Christ Jesus called (κλητὸς note throughout this introduction of this letter this word) by the will of God. His companion is Sosthenes, a name we find in Acts 18:17 as an officer in the Jewish synagogue in Corinth. He writes ²to the church (ἐκκλησίᾳ was usually a political assembly in the first century and used of Jewish synagogues as well) of God (a favorite expression) in Corinth, whom he also describes as sanctified (ἡγιασμένοις) in Christ Jesus and called (κλητοῖς) to be saints, a notion that finds its way into the Apostles’ Creed with the phrase “communion of saints.” Paul constantly impresses on us the sanctification of life as an implication of belonging to Jesus Christ.[1]  They are also together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours. “Lord” may connect to the Old Testament covenant term of Israel for its God, but also to the title used of Caesar. Paul is emphasizing what the churches have in common, something that will become an issue in this letter.

Paul offers ³grace to them, a greeting in common Greek use for letters. Yet, grace as a Christian term is the sign of the appearance and activity of God. It signifies the antecedent act of God that is the foundation of Christian faith. This grace comes through Jesus Christ as a gift to the believer, enabling ministry to the body of Christ and to the world.  Paul also offers peace, a greeting common in Jewish letters. Shalom refers to total well-being, wholeness, and fullness. Grace and peace invite readers to participate in the new state of salvation now available to all who confess Christ. Together, they constitute the gift of salvation. Looking ahead to the strife this Christian community is experiencing, such a greeting has added significance. He may greet them in this way with a sense of irony. He greets them with grace and peace, but his letters to Corinth are full of grit and pointed reminders. Such grace and peace are from God our Father and the Lord, suggesting Jesus as Lord stands in relation to the church as Yahweh did with Israel, but it was also a title for Caesar, Jesus Christ. 

Paul then shares his prayer for them, a prayer that, while full of praise and support, set the stage for the difficult message of this letter. He gives ⁴thanks to God. Letters in Hellenistic culture typically opened with offering thanks or gratitude. He will use this thanksgiving to invite the congregation to live into their calling. He will offer a thumbnail sketch of the issues confronting the congregation in the context of his thanksgiving. He thanks God always for them because of the grace of God given to them in Christ Jesus. Such “charis” covers demonstrations of favor in the sense of gifts.[2] Such charismata or grace gifts foreshadows some of the thorniest issues Paul address later. The greatest gift is the gift of grace. Such grace is a free gift given by God through Christ. Believers experience this grace as something realized in the community through the presence of tangible gifts. He emphasizes the gratuitous quality of grace in that God gives it to all Christians in an unearned way. ⁵God has enriched them in every way in Christ. What makes one rich in Christ? Paul is going to let us know.  This enrichment occurs in speech (λόγῳ) and knowledge (γνώσει) of every kind, a reference to some of the thorniest issues he will face. Since this congregation seems to have division due to vindictive language, ecstatic utterance, and misconstrued theology, one can sense the irony of this reference. He tries to put such special gifts in a positive light. He also connects them to their true source in Christ. Paul is emphasizing that Christ is the one who unifies them, preparing the reader for his reflections in Chapters 1-4, and especially Chapter 2 and his reflection on wisdom and foolishness. ⁶Further, they have strengthened or confirmed the testimony about Christ given by Paul among them as it flourishes with the community. This testimony likely refers to the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. It refers to the gospel that founded the church. One can see the strength of this testimony in the health of the body of Christ. Paul then stresses that the result is that ⁷they are not lacking in any spiritual gift. In Chapters 11-13, they seem overwhelmed by the uncontrolled use of gifts. Further, they wait for the revealing (ἀποκάλυψιν or revelation), an unusual phrase for Paul. When Paul writes of “revelation” here, he does so in an apocalyptic context, in which Christ will separate the righteous and the unrighteous. The extent to which the gospel is a revelation, then, is provisional until that final revelation.[3] Its provisional quality means faith and hope will always be important qualities of a Christian life. Even today, congregations sing prayerfully, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” We sing, “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” from Charles Wesley (1744):

Him the people to deliver, born a child and yet a King
Born to reign in us forever, now Thy gracious kingdom bring
By Thy own eternal Spirit, rule in all our hearts alone
By Thine all sufficient merit, raise us to Thine glorious throne

The congregation waits for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Paul emphasizes his eschatological outlook. The Spirit now at work in the gifts is a foretaste of what shall come. Their spiritual gifts today do not mean the eschaton has already appeared. Such gifts are an earnest of what is yet to come. Such gifts provide the community with a glimpse into the future glory that awaits them. The gifts are not fully present. If a day is coming for a revealing of Christ, then the present is a time of some hiddenness of whom Christ is. The present is a time of waiting for the fullness of revelation. The present is a prolepsis of the fullness of future revelation. They can exercise their gifts in the present as they look forward to final revelation. They can look beyond their present poverty, slavery, and victimization by evil and see the glory to come. ⁸Christ will also strengthen them to the end, stressing that the grace of God will not run short and will bring them home. Such strengthening means that they may be blameless (they are not blameless now) on the day (think of the prophets and the Day of Judgment and liberation) of our Lord Jesus Christ. Christ ushers in the fulfillment of the promised eschatological era. Such eschatological imagery from the prophets finds its home in the New Testament as well. The Day is a time of judgment in which Christ has victory over sin and death. Until that Day, all believers live on the wings of grace. Paul is quite aware that he and his fellow Christians live between two advents or comings of Jesus Christ. The event to which Paul in his time bore witness continues. He is still in his time, as are all the apostles. They are such only as they are in the time of the revelation, declaration, and realization of their time in its hastening towards the end that has already come. What is at issue is the manifestation of the beginning of time posited in Christ, as well as its goal and end.[4] Therefore, ⁹God is faithful. God does not break promises. Truly, “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” The divine promise to Israel remains viable (Romans 9-11). 

Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow, 

Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea.

What matter beating wind and tossing billow 

If only we are in the boat with thee?

Hold us in quiet through the age-long minute 

While thou art silent, and the wind is shrill: 

Can the boat sink while thou, dear Lord, art in it? 

Can the heart faint that waiteth on thy will? 

--Amy Carmichael

Despite the issues this community faces, God is the one who called (ἐκλήθητε) them. God remains faithful to the congregation that God has called into being. At the beginning of the letter, Paul refers to his calling as an apostle. He now reminds them that God has called them as well. Paul will invite them to live into their calling. Paul sees some signs of the impact of the transforming work grace in their lives. The open question is whether they will live fully into their divine calling. God has called them into the fellowship (κοινωνίαν) or partnership of the Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. The evidence of their calling is partnership with the Son. This word is rich in meaning, pointing us to the quality of the relationship within the community. The word has a basic meaning of sharing possessions. The fellowship shared in the community is to reflect the fellowship they have with Christ. They are to have unity in action and concerns. Such partnership has its root in grace. Such partnership unites the congregation to the Father, Son, and Spirit. Christ is our partner in human nature, so we are partners in the divine nature (II Peter 1:4). Thus, the call of the gospel is toward the faith of the recipients and therefore at their participation in salvation in fellowship with Christ.[5] For Paul, this focus on partnership also serves as a bridge to a discussion of the division experienced by the community. Their identity is communal. Their calling is to live into a unique relationship with the Son. They belong to God, and thus, as we look ahead to the difficult matters Paul will address, not to any particular group of believers. To repeat, this thanksgiving is a gentle way to begin a discussion of the difficult issues he thinks he must address. 

            You do not lack any spiritual gift (verse 7). If so, why do we feel like ... well, like this: 

If I just had more time ...

If I just had more money ...

If I just had more power ...

If I just had more confidence ...

If I just had more influence ... 

Why is it that we feel so acutely that something is missing from our lives? If we think about the stages of a human life, we realize that each stage brings new challenges. We are constantly adding to our knowledge of self and world. Yet, if we have a sense that something is missing, our problem may not be that we are lacking something. Our problem is not that we need certain things that we just do not have. Our problem may be that we have something that we do not know we have. We are not good at receiving, and so we perceive a lack or void in our lives. We are so busy worrying about checking an itemized list to see what we have (Is there a water view? Does he have a great career ahead of him? Is an egg roll included?) that we are incapable of comprehending that God intends for us to lack nothing.  

Nelson Mandela spoke about the danger of the fear we have that we lack. 

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us. It's in everyone, and, as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." 

Brother David Steindl-Rast suggests what this means: 

"Sometimes people get the mistaken notion that spirituality is a separate department of life, the penthouse of our existence. But rightly understood, it is a vital awareness that pervades all realms of our being. Someone will say, 'I come alive when I listen to music,' or 'I come to life when I garden' or 'I come alive when I play golf.' Wherever we come alive, that is the area in which we are spiritual. And then we can say, 'I know at least how one is spiritual in that area.' To be vital, awake, aware, in all areas of our lives, is the task that is never accomplished, but it remains the goal."[6]

Here is another way of looking at the power of the feeling that we lack. 

"'Burnout is a surrender,' Dr. Martin Luther King once said at a conference in 1964. A lot of us were sitting at a table talking about the subject because we had witnessed it in others and in ourselves. He explained his somewhat startling choice of words this way: 'We have just so much strength in us. If we give and give and give, we have less and less and less - and after a while, at a certain point, we're so weak and worn, we hoist up the flag of surrender. We surrender to the worst side of ourselves, and then we display that to others. We surrender to self-pity and to spite and to morose self-preoccupation. If you want to call it depression or burnout, well, all right. If you want to call it the triumph of sin - when our goodness has been knocked out from under us, well, all right. Whatever we say or think, this is arduous duty, doing this kind of work; to live out one's idealism brings with it hazards.'"[7]

            The point is that we have received in life. Even if we have difficult early years, we survived, showing the strength we have that stretches toward fullness of life. We often do not pay attention to the gifts we have received. Is it because we take lthem for granted? Is it because we do not perceive them as gifts? Maybe the gifts we have derive from the way we faced difficult circumstances, and thus all we see is the hard work. Yet, if we could pause long enough to reflect upon them, we would realize that we are already have what we need to meet the challenges of this day or of the net stage of our lives. 

           You lack nothing because God has given you the gift of life in a world that is teeming with life. Such life has its beauty and love to offer, but it also has its dangers and risks. You are part of humanity, uniquely related to God. You are part of a nation, a community, an ethnic group, a family, each of us has unique gifts for you to learn, appreciate, and embody in your life. For the Christian, becoming part of the people of God makes us part of the Body of Christ, inviting us to fellowship with each other and with Christ. Such persons also have the Spirit of God at work within them. My point, of course, is that none of this are alone in this thing called life, and certainly not Christian life. The resources we need to face the challenges of life are not simply within us. If that were so, we would also lack. We ack nothing because we are more intimately bound together with others and with God than we may even know. Therefore, we truly lack nothing.

---

[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 492.

[2] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 3, 199.

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 208-10.

[4] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.4 [56.1] 581.

[5] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 447.

[6] -In The Music of Silence, cited in Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996), 29.

[7] -Robert Cole in The Call to Service, cited in Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996), 346.

Isaiah 49:1-7

Isaiah 49:1-7 (NRSV)

 Listen to me, O coastlands,

pay attention, you peoples from far away!

The Lord called me before I was born,

while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.

² He made my mouth like a sharp sword,

in the shadow of his hand he hid me;

he made me a polished arrow,

in his quiver he hid me away.

³ And he said to me, “You are my servant,

Israel, in whom I will be glorified.”

⁴ But I said, “I have labored in vain,

I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity;

yet surely my cause is with the Lord,

and my reward with my God.” 

⁵ And now the Lord says,

who formed me in the womb to be his servant,

to bring Jacob back to him,

and that Israel might be gathered to him,

for I am honored in the sight of the Lord,

and my God has become my strength—

⁶ he says,

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant

to raise up the tribes of Jacob

and to restore the survivors of Israel;

I will give you as a light to the nations,

that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” 

⁷ Thus says the Lord,

the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One,

to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations,

the slave of rulers,

“Kings shall see and stand up,

princes, and they shall prostrate themselves,

because of the Lord, who is faithful,

the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.” 

Isaiah 49:1-6 is the second servant poem, having the theme of the light to the nations.  Listen to me, O coastlands, pay attention, you peoples from far away! The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me. All of this reads like Isaiah 44:1-4; Jeremiah 1:5; Psalm 139:13-16; Galatians 1:15-16. ² He made my mouth like a sharp sword, suggesting that the servant will accomplish his mission by speech, the prophetic word. In the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me away. ³ And he said to me, “You are my servant (‘ébed), Israel, (some think this word is a later addition) in whom I will be glorified.” The servant will be the means through which the Lord will win glory. ⁴ But I said, “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the Lord, and my reward with my God.” We learn that the prophet feels ineffective, yet God reaffirms his call. The servant said that he has labored in vain. He has spent his strength for nothing and vanity. All of this fits the prophetic word that failed to divert the judgment of 587. Some people think such musings could not refer to historical Israel. ⁵ And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant (‘ébed), to bring Jacob back to him, and that Israel might be gathered to him, for I am honored in the sight of the Lord, and my God has become my strength—⁶ he says, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant (‘ébed) to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” The servant invites the coastlands and the people far away to listen to him. The Lord called him before he was born. He was in the womb and the Lord named him. The Lord made his mouth like a sharp sword, He found himself hid in the shadow of the hand of the Lord. The Lord made him a polished arrow. The Lord hid him in his quiver. The Lord said to him that he is the servant of the Lord, Israel, in whom the Lord will glorify himself. Yet, surely his cause is with the Lord and his reward is with God. The Lord, who formed him in the womb to be the servant of the Lord, is to bring Jacob back to the Lord and gather Israel to the Lord, for the servant finds honor in the sight of the Lord and God has become his strength. At this point, the servant of the Lord is different from Jacob/Israel. The Lord says it is too light a thing that he be the servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and restore the remnant of Israel. Rather, the Lord will give the servant as a light to the nations, which is also the mission of Cyrus in Isaiah 42:6 so that salvation (yeshuah) from the Lord may reach to the end of the earth. II Isaiah depicts Israel as the servant of the Lord who as the elect of God has the responsibility of bringing light to of all peoples. In this way, the destiny of the people of Israel and its special relation to God have a relation to all the peoples of the world, but now in connection with the thought of election. The point here is that the lesser mission of the servant is to restore Israel to its historical identity. The greater mission is to be a light to the nations.^[1]

Isaiah 49:7, in a segment that extends to verse 13, is a response to the second servant poem. ⁷ Thus says the Lord,the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations, the slave (‘ébed) of rulers,“Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.” When we reflect upon the infinity and holiness of the Lord, the antithesis is what is earthly and human displays itself in the fact that the Lord does not just react to human acts. Rather, the “Holy One of Israel” becomes a guarantee of the hope of redemption for the exiles. ^[2]

The text is addressing the most basic need any of us has, the need for dignity, respect, and self-worth. God formed us in the womb for becoming a servant of the Lord. At the time of this prophecy, Israel no longer existed. The Babylonians had taken the remnant into captivity. They were not much at which to look. In the mind of the prophet, he hears Israel say that they failed, that they have labored to the will of the Lord in vain. Yet, the prophet sees something else in them. He sees their potential of becoming a servant of the Lord, and therefore a light to the nations.

It can be so difficult for us to find our sense of place in the great schemes of things. All of us have limits provided by family, community, and culture. We also have limits we impose upon ourselves. We often struggle to find our sense of worth and dignity. Do we matter? Does what we want, desire, and hope for, matter to anyone? Among the beautiful promises of the bible is that God has shaped each of us for a purpose. God has a vision for the vision for the world. We have the opportunity of becoming part of that vision by becoming a servant of that vision. Each of us has a role to play. Although we are only part of that long-term vision that will outlast our all too brief lives, we are a part of something majestic that God is doing. We must not downplay that part. Although we may at times become discouraged, we can find renewed hope and confidence in that vision. 

More often, though, many of us who become aware of having a special purpose realize this only gradually, and sometimes, only in retrospect. In the last century at the age of 86, George Herbert Palmer, who'd been a professor of philosophy at Harvard for all of his career and had also taught in the divinity school there, published a small autobiography in which he discussed the things he felt he'd accomplished and the many personal difficulties he'd faced. But he ended by talking about the opportunity he'd had to do useful work over the years in helping more than 15,000 students with their education. He concluded his book with this statement: "As I see these things rising behind me they do not seem of my doing. Some greater power than I has been using me as its glad instrument."

Thankfully, not all of that awareness comes only days before we die! Sandra Gibson, who graduated in 2008 from Ashland (Ohio) Theological Seminary with a degree in clinical pastoral counseling, writes about a "retrospective lens" that periodically enables her to catch a glimpse of how some of the seemingly random dots of life connect. "I suspect that one of the nicest gifts God gives us in our journey," writes Gibson, "is a retrospective lens on life. We don't always get clearly marked blueprints or maps, but we do get a connect-the-dots picture if we pause to look back over our shoulders." And sometimes what we see is how the "dots" of our lives have shaped us to be able to deal with something else that comes along. We may feel, for example, with some gladness or at least gratitude, that we were born to be a parent to a child who seems to need parenting even more than most. Or we were born to help a loved one through a dark valley. Or we were born to accomplish a certain task. Or perhaps, in the midst of some great crisis, we discover that we have certain skills that we've picked up over the course of our lives that have made us ready to meaningfully help others in the crisis. 

We may not use the language of being born for some role. We may not speak of God naming us. We may not even characterize ourselves as God calling us. But if, at some point, it comes to us that we are in the place that we need to be because we can do some good there, it is worth considering whether that may indeed be evidence of a call from God.

And if that happens, then we have the choice of whether we will put our energies into this thing for which we were born. Dag Hammarskjöld was the secretary-general of the United Nations from 1953 until his death in 1961 in a plane crash while en route to negotiate a cease-fire in an African conflict. He had worked tirelessly in the causes of peace in many trouble spots around the globe. After his death, friends found his personal diary in his New York apartment, eventually publishing it under the title, Markings. One thing he said in that book was this: "We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours."

Is that not a way of saying that while we may be born for some purpose, it is still up to us what we do about that purpose? Alice Flaherty is a neurologist at Massachusetts General Hospital who describes her work as a calling. In fact, she tells about a time in medical school when she became so convinced she was in the right profession that it filled her with "an exaggerated, perhaps even pretentious, feeling of duty and joy." And she says that she still feels a little of the same emotions every time she turns on a new stimulator in a Parkinson's patient and sees the person go from a frozen condition to walking nearly normally.

But she also explains that that same feeling turns into a torment when she knows she has betrayed it. As an example, she tells of one of the worst days of her residency, when a superior insisted that she perform a painful procedure -- one which she felt was unnecessary -- on a dying patient who begged her to leave him in peace. "In the end," Flaherty says, "the patient, the nurse and I were all sobbing as I executed the procedure. Thinking of that night still fills me with shame."

As we move through life, it's good to take time to consider whether we have some sense of being named by God, of being born to some role, or simply of being the right person in the right place at the right time -- which can be one form that God naming us as his own takes.

I saw Mother Teresa on TV in January of 1987.  She was at a news conference.  One of the reports said, "Many people call you a modern-day saint.  What do you think of being called that?"  Her response: "We are all called to be saints.  I am called to be a saint in what I do with my life.  You are called to be a saint in what you do."  I doubt if many reports are accustomed to receiving that kind of challenge.  But I wonder, do we dare to believe that we can be saints in whatever we do?  

A Christian therapist was talking with a person who had terrible feelings of guilt because of what the person had done in the past.  He asked, "What is your mental image of Christ?"  The patient said: "I guess as a baby.  Or maybe as somebody dying on a cross.  A real loser."  The doctor asked if he thought he could picture Jesus as someone who loved him.  He responded that he wanted to but could not seem to do it.  He did not understand why he resisted.  The therapist then said: "You probably feel unworthy."  The patient nodded yes.  The doctor said: "You are worthy.  God was born in a manger and died on a cross for you.  That means you are worth a lot to God."[3]

Until we view ourselves as worthy to God, I wonder if we will ever get to a place where we can offer ourselves freely to God, to the church, to others, with all our gifts and talents.  One study done of churches that grow said that theology, denomination, location, do not mean as much as another characteristic.  Churches that grow are more loving than churches that do not.[4]

One of the great stories of literature is The Man of La Mancha.  In the stage play, Don Quixote meets a prostitute named Aldonza.  He tells her that she will be his new lady, and that she will receive a new name: Dulcinea.  She rejects his offer.  He keeps affirming her and declaring her to be what he believes she is.  At the end of the play, someone rapes Aldonza.  She is crying and hysterical on stage.  The Man of La Mancha again calls to her, "My Lady, Dulcinea."  She says: "Don't call me your lady; I was born in a ditch by a mother who left me to die.  I am only someone men use and forget.  Don't call me a lady.  I'm only Aldonza.  I am nothing at all."  She leaves the stage with Don Quixote calling after her, "But you are my Lady Dulcinea!"  Soon, he lays dying of a broken heart.  A lady, a Spanish queen, kneels beside her.  He wonders who she is. "Don't you remember?  You called me your lady.  You gave me a new name.  My name is Dulcinea!"[5]

Now, let us consider the identity of the people of God.

When we examine honestly the history of the church, we see much that ought to distress us. The church simply does not live up to its potential. It often fails to be an effective witness. It often fails to offer effectively the Christian message. I have read this somewhere: the best reason to become a Christian is the witness of other Christians; the greatest blockage to people becoming Christians is other Christians. The traditional message of the church, that we are sinners, is all right as far as it goes.  However, we are not telling people anything they do not know.  We all know that we fall short of our own ideals, let alone the ideals the church or society or family.  We are always falling short.  

If we are honest about our lives, we can see the many ways in which we have failed to be the person called us to be. Some of those times will occasionally bring tears to our eyes and the words, “Please forgive me,” on our lips. We never finish when it comes to becoming effective servants of the Lord.

When we work with people, it is rare that anything ever gets finished, done, accomplished.  If we are going to talk, with the prophet, about God calling us, then we had better talk, with the prophet, about failure.  A person who has spent her life working with teachers, helping them to be better teachers, said to me, "Good teachers must be in love with the task of sowing the seed, not reaping the harvest.”  Pastors, parents, Sunday School teachers, health care givers, just about any disciple, must be in love with something more significant than immediate, visible results because our goals are so high, the work of God so mysterious, the plans of God for the world so grand, that the  harvest doesn't occur until years after the sowing.  God called us here.  The work is God's, not ours.  We are not to seek validation for what we do in our time frame, demand results as we measure results.  The harvest, after our sowing, is God's harvest, in God's own good time.

We need to talk about what we can become, not so much because of us, but because of God. God saw that God could work with this nation, even if it felt itself as a failure, to the point where it could become a light to the nations. God looks at the church, God looks at each of us, and sees that seem potential to make a positive contribution to the lives of others.

---

[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 456.

[2] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 399.

[3] Robert Schuller, Self-esteem, 158).

[4] (Ned Barnes, "How We Set Ourselves on Fire," in Good News in Growing Churches, 29).

[5]  (Robert Schuller, Self-esteem, 159-160).