Rev. Ron Sumners
October 29, 1995

The church of Jesus Christ began with a group of frightened men in a second-floor room in Jerusalem.
Though trained and taught by the Master, they didn't know what to say. Though they had marched with Him for three years, they now sat, huddled together in a small, secluded room ...afraid. They were timid soldiers, reluctant warriors, speechless messengers.
Their most courageous act was to get up and lock the door.
Some looked out of the window, some looked at the wall. Some looked at the floor, but all looked inside themselves. And well they should, for it was an hour of self-examination.
All their efforts seem so futile. Nagging their memories were the promises they had made but not kept. When the Roman soldiers took Jesus, His followers took off. With the very wine of the covenant on their breath and the bread of His sacrifice in their bellies, they fled.
All those boasts of bravado? All those declarations of devotion? They lay broken and shattered at the gate of Gethsemane's garden.
We don't know where the disciples went when they fled the garden, but we do know what they took; a memory. They took a heartstopping memory of a man who called Himself no less than God in the flesh. And they couldn't get Him off of their minds. Try as they might to lose Him in the crowd, they couldn't forget Him. If they saw a leper, they thought of His compassion. If they heard a storm, they thought of the day He silenced one. If they saw a child, they would think of the day that He held one. If they saw a lamb being carried to the Temple, they would remember his face streaked with blood and His eyes flooded with love.
No, they could not forget Him. As a result, they came back. And, as a result, the church of our Lord began with a group of frightened men m an upper room.
Things haven't changed much in two thousand years, have they? How many churches today find themselves paralyzed in the upper room? How many churches have just enough religion to come together, but not enough passion to go out? If the doors aren't locked, they might as well be:
Upper room futility; a little bit of faith but very little fire.
"Sure, we're doing our part to reach the world. Why, just last year we mailed 1500 brochures. We're anticipating a response any day now."
"You bet we care that the world is reached! We send some money every month to...uh, well...ol' what's his name down there in...uh, well, oh, I forget the place, but we pray for it often."
"World hunger? Why, that's high on our priority list! In fact, we have plans to plan a planning session. At least, that is what we are planning to do."
Good people, lots of ideas, plenty of good intentions, budgets, meetings , words, promises; we have them all. But while all this goes on, the story we have to tell remains a secret to the world.
We don't tum our backs on Christ, but we don't tum toward Him either. You don't curse His name, but neither do you praise it. You know you should do something, but you are not sure what. You know you should come together, but you're not sure why.
Upper room futility. Confused ambassadors behind locked doors. What will it take to unlock them? What will it take to ignite the fire? What will it take to restore the first century passion? What will happen before the padlocks of futility tumble from our doors and are trampled under the feet of departing disciples?
Do we need more training? That is a part of it. Do we need better strategies? That would help. Do we need a greater world vision? Undoubtedly, we do. Do we need to give more money? That is an imperative. Do we need to rely more on the Holy Spirit? Absolutely! But in the midst of these items there is one basis ingredient that cannot be overlooked . There is one item so vital that its absence insures our failure. What is needed to get us out is exactly what got the apostles out.
Picture the scene. Peter, James, John and the others all came back together, huddled in fear. Yet there had to have been some glimmer of hope and anticipation too. If not why were they still there together instead of scattered to the four winds?
Little did they know that their wildest hopes were not wild enough. They heard a voice.
"Peace be with you ."
Every head lifted. Every eye turned. Every mouth dropped open. They looked at the door. It was still locked! It was a moment that the apostles would never forget, a story they would never cease to tell. The stone of the tomb was not enough to keep Him in. The walls of the room were not enough to keep Him out.
Here was the one betrayed in the midst of His betrayers. What did He say to them? Not ''What a bunch of flops!" Not "I knew you would fail!" Not "I told you so!" Not "Where were you when I needed you?" He uttered one simple phrase, "Peace be with you." The one thing that they didn't have was the thing that He offered: peace!
It was too good to be true! So amazing was the appearance that some were saying, "Pinch me, I'm dreaming". Thomas even demanded an encore appearance before he would believe . No wonder they returned to Jerusalem with great joy . No wonder they were always in the Temple praising God!
A transformed group stood beside a transforn1ed Peter as he announced some weeks later: "Therefore let all Israel be assured of this; God has made this Jesus, whom ' you crucified, both Lord and Christ."
There was no timidity in his words. There was no reluctance. About three thousand people believed his message.
The apostles sparked a movement. The people became followers of the death-conqueror. They couldn't hear enough or say enough about Him. People began to call them "Christ-ians." Christ was their model, their message. They preached "Jesus Christ and Him crucified," not for the lack of another topic, but because they couldn't exhaust this one.
What unlocked the doors of the apostles' hearts?
They saw Jesus! They encountered the Christ. Their sins collided with the Savior and the Savior won! What lit the boiler of the apostles was a red-hot conviction that the very one who should have sent them to hell went through hell for them.
A lot of things would happen to them over the next few decades. Many nights would be spent away from home. Hunger would gnaw at their bellies. Rain would soak their skins. Stones would bruise their bodies. There were shipwrecks, lashings and martyrdom. But there was a scene in their memories that caused them never to look back: the betrayed coming back to His betrayers, not to condemn them but to SEND them. Not to criticize them for forgetting, but to commission them to remember. REMEMBER that He who was dead is alive and they who were guilty have been forgiven.
Think about the first time you ever saw Him. Think about your first encounter with the Christ. Clothe yourself in the memory. Resurrect the relief you felt. Recall the purity. Summon forth the passion. Can you remember?
I can. It was 1958. I was a nine year old boy sitting in a Summer revival at Klein Baptist Church near Harpersville, Alabama. The preacher wasn't saying anything I had not heard before, but that night I heard it with my heart not just my ears. I can't explain why it connected that night as opposed to another, but it did. I wanted what Jesus had to offer.
Many would argue that a nine-year-old is too young for such a decision. All I know is that I have never made a more earnest decision in my life. I didn't know much about God, but what I knew was enough. I knew that I wanted to go to Heaven. And I knew that I could not do it alone.
No one had to tell me to be happy. No one had to tell me to tell others. Pardon truly received is pardon powerfully proclaimed!
There is a direct correlation between the accuracy of our memory and the effectiveness of our mission. If we are not reaching people to be saved, it is perhaps because we have forgotten the tragedy of being lost! If we're not teaching the message of forgiveness, and if we cannot forgive, it may be because we don't remember what it was like to need forgiveness. And if we are not preaching the cross, it could be that we've subconsciously decided that, God forbid, somehow, we don't need it.
When times get hard, remember Jesus. When people don't listen, remember Jesus. When tears come, remember Jesus. When disappointment comes into your life, remember Jesus. When anger seethes, remember Jesus. When shame weighs down on your heart, remember Jesus.
Remember the sick that were healed with those calloused hands. Remember the dead called from the grave with a Galilean accent.
Remember the eyes of God that wept human tears. And most of all, remember what He did for you!
Can you still remember? Are you still in love with Him?
How quickly we forget. So much happens through the years. So many changes within. So many alterations without. And, somewhere, back there, we leave Hi91. We don't turn away from Him...we just don't take Him with us. Assignments come, promotions come, budgets are made, kids are born, and Jesus...Jesus is forgotten.
Has it been a while since you stared at the heavens in speechless amazement? Has it been a while since you realized God's omnipotence and your humanity?
If it has, then you need to know something. He is still there! He hasn't left. In the midst of all those voices and faces and pictures and memories, He is still there.
Do yourself a favor. Stand before Him again. Run your fingers over His feet. Place your hand in His pierced side. And look into those eyes. Those same eyes melted the gates of Hell and sent the demons scurrying and Satan running. Look at them as they look at you. You will never be the same.
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