Sermon Tone Analysis

Humans pack a powerful punch, too.

Which is why, I think, we are prone to taking matters into our own hands.

Of going ahead of God.

Jesus had power, too.

Lots of it.

But he showed total disregard for this power, choosing instead to be led and empowered his entire life.

So our story starts by telling us that Jesus was put out to sea.

“Say what?”

You heard me.

“Did you mean put out to pasture, pastor?”

No, but it’s almost like being put out to pasture—being retired.

For that’s what “put out to pasture” means.

At the end of a long career of powering your way through life, you are out to pasture.

Retired.

But this isn’t the case here.

Jesus was not being put out to pasture.

He was being put out to sea.

That’s what the text says.

Not making it up.

To face the raging sea called life guided and empowered by someone else.

I would much rather the story follows a football story.

“He put himself out to sea.”

You know what football commentators say, “All they need to do is win this game, and they are in control of their own destiny!”

God hands the ball to the Buss—Jerome Bettis—I mean Jesus.

He runs downfield, powers through the linebackers, the safeties, the cornerbacks.

Doesn’t even bother to shift and avoid contact like LT. Bam! Bam! Bam!

He rams right through every opposition with his raw power.

And, “Goal!!!” Oh, wrong sport.

“Touchdown!!!” Yeah!

But that’s not what our story says.

And I almost wanna put the disclaimer on the Survivorman series here: “Don’t try this at home.

You’re bound to fail.”

Jesus was put out to sea.

Not put out to pasture—not to retire.

He’s at the beginning stages of his ministry.

But put out to sea.

Let me see.

How might humanity’s representative be tempted to use his power?

With the most basic of human needs.

Survival.

You cannot survive without food.

The first of the triad of basic necessities: Food, clothing, shelter.

What is so wrong with the first temptation?

End your fast.

It is self imposed anyway.

Forty days and nights?

That’s over the top.

What are you trying to prove.

Pastor Mel here lasted four days and he was famished and he went straight to the fridge like a bee, and ate his comfort food—fish, rice, vegetables.

Nearly gouged himself, but he ate.

And hey, he’s still here.

When it comes to basic necessities, humans are very capable of providing for themselves—for the most part.

And that is precisely what we all do.

I pride myself with the thought that if the Lord should ever reject my ministry and say, “You won’t be pastor anymore,” I will do everything in my power to provide for my family—even if it means going up and seeing my neighbor Bob up the tope of Coyote Hill, and begging him to let me mop the floor and flip burgers in one of his McDonald’s joint in Auburn.

And I mean it, too.

But the real issue here is not so much that I would do this with my own power.

I’m sure that God would be honored if I used my power to provide for my family’s most basic of necessities.

The real issue is this: What am I excluding by taking control of my own survival?

Look what’s missing in this triad of basic necessities.

In our pursuit to use our own power to survive, we end up starving.

That is, we command every ounce of our human capacity to secure our basic necessities—and end up starving ourselves spiritually.

God’s food is an afterthought, at best.

Just what are you living for?

Don’t survive only to starve to death!

And when it comes to God’s food, your power means nothing.

You cannot feed yourself with God’s Word.

He feeds you!

Your task is to cede power to him so that you begin to really live.

And if this means waiting a while longer to break your fast, so be it.

What I mean is that if it means that I pass up a tempting opportunity to secure my family’s basic necessities in order for God’s food to become paramount in your life, then so be it.

And you will find that you will survive beyond your wildest dreams.

Text here.

Not as easy to crack this nut, is it?

Persistence, I suppose, belongs to the Devil, too.

Failing to tempt Jesus to take his own survival into his own hands, the Devil tries to get Jesus to give God a second look.

But not a good second look.

A doubtful second look.

It is the god of the day.

The academic world is presupposed on doubt.

Sometimes, all that’s necessary is not to forsake God altogether, but to make him small—or smaller.

“If I can pear God down to size in this person’s eyes!

I can tell him God can be trusted on the little things—but not for your life.

You yourself can manage your own life, and let God take care of the small things.”

Just a little crack and water will seep through, busting the dam wide open emptying it of all its water, until your faith is dry—dead.

Go ahead and leave to God only the small things.