Sermon Tone Analysis

*PHILIPPIANS 3:13*

*                                        RESOLVED!*

A New Year approaches, well into the new decade which precedes the advent of a new century and the beginning of a new millennium.

Such transitions become times of anticipation for all peoples, assuming momentous proportions in the view of those living in such times.

And even we who are believers find ourselves motivated to think ahead as we sense the importance of such august times.

Accustomed as we are by our culture to the making of resolutions as part of the New Year festivities, we are perhaps even more thoughtful in the preparation of such statements of aspiration for the year ahead, realizing that by such resolutions we but give voice to our own dreams.

In light of the proximity of the dawn of this the ultimate decade of the twentieth century, it seemed appropriate that we should give some consideration to what shall be resolved by us this year.

Our considerations will explore possibilities of resolutions for us as individuals, and by virtue of the dynamic of the Body of Christ, what shall be resolved by us as a congregation, a community of faith.

In order to fully explore these dimensions, I invite you to consider the well known statement of resolution and aspiration penned by Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, in his letter to the saints in Philippi.

There, in uncharacteristically terse words which betray the intensity of his goal in living, the apostle stuns us into contemplative silence, forcing us to review our call and our commitment.

RESOLVED: ONE THING SHALL RULE IN MY LIFE!  RESOLVED: I SHALL NOT DWELL ON UNFULFILLED DREAMS!

RESOLVED: I SHALL LIVE IN HOPE!

And so there is a message of encouragement and hope for each Christian in this expression of resolution.

Let's explore together that we may be guided by the Spirit of Christ.

The first consideration speaks of *THE FRUSTRATION OF UNATTAINED DREAMS*.

Paul's thoughts, "Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of [that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me]," alerts us to this vital matter.

As individuals, we each dream.

When a man ceases to dream, death ‑ emotional, spiritual, mental, and even physical ‑ is inevitable.

For too many, the adage "Dead at twenty, buried at seventy" is altogether too true.

As Christians, we are endowed with an innate capacity to dream great dreams.

And so long as we dream such great dreams we are unconquerable.

We dream of winning the lost to Christ.

We dream of seeing Him crowned as King in the hearts of friends and of loved ones ‑ now.

We dream of standing firm against the onslaught of evil, even as it appears to move relentlessly across the face of the nation.

We dream of that day when Christ shall return and we shall see Him as He is because we shall be like Him.

We dream of that day when He shall put down all rebellion and when we shall reign with Him.

And just as each Christian dreams great dreams, so collectively their dreams constitute great dreams for the Church.

Do you recall the words of Peter, who, quoting from the Prophet Joel, said:

 

                         "Your sons and daughters will prophesy,

                             your young men will see visions,

                             your old men will dream dreams."

*ACTS 2:17b*

 

Dreams and visions, in the proper sense of the words, are the heritage of the Church, and they continue where the Body is vigorous and valiant for the Faith.

When dreams cease, ardor dies and the flame burns low and the Body withers and becomes withered, wilted and wrinkled.

Death and decay reign where once life and laughter prevailed.

There is a subtle, though significant, difference between dreaming and being a man of dreams, between being a dreamer and being a man of vision.

For though I speak of dreams, I would not serve to advocate becoming a dreamer; I speak, rather, of being men and women of vision.

I long to see our souls consumed with a great vision.

The grave danger to men and women of vision is that they eventually become burdened with the baggage of unattained dreams.

We reach the age of majority with dreams of what we will do with the years allotted us.

Few, if any, of us fulfill our every dream from teen years.

Reality forces us to make concessions we could not have anticipated.

How could the young woman know that the man of her dreams would turn her life into a nightmare?

How could the young man anticipate that injury and illness would terminate his strength prematurely?

How could the individual have had ability to count the cost ‑ physical, mental, fiscal ‑ of attaining the dream which once burned so brightly in the soul?

So most who wish to join the ranks of the professions settle for lesser positions, and many learn to make the best of a less than desirable position, and life is spent in coping rather than conquering.

What is true of the dreams of youth is equally true of the dreams of the faithful in the first blush of faith.

Saved, our souls are stirred to attempt great things for the cause of Christ.

We rejoice in the presence of spiritual babes among us.

Though they demand attention, we guide them and as we nurture them.

Intolerant and impatient as is so often the case, they possess a vigor which shames the rest of us.

Like elderly residents of a nursing home, we enjoy capturing our own youthful zeal vicariously through watching youth of the day.

And we smile and tolerate the foibles of freshness which characterize first faith, for we remember that our own hearts were once full of dreams, just as theirs is now filled.

But as time advances, and as the days grow shorter for us to accomplish any great work, we realize that many of the dreams, even though seemingly approved by God's Good Spirit, are unrealistic and unlikely to be realized, and we grow frustrated.

We are frustrated by the necessity of paring our dreams to fit the real world, and prioritizing is never an easy task.

So the great danger is that we fail to arrange our dreams into an acceptable, attainable vision, and thus grow disillusioned and discouraged.

What is true of individual believers, is also true of churches, and especially of this congregation.

Born in adversity, inured by hardship, we once possessed a great vision, and commendable dreams filled our heart.

Our very name was demonstration of a resident faith which was uncharacteristic of many of our sister churches, for had that vitality and vibrancy been resident among others we would not have needed to organize.

Zeal was evident in every life, and no spiritual goal seemed beyond our reach.

But perhaps there were too many defeats in our battles against error, too many failures in our reach to those outside the pale of the redeemed, too many losses from our ranks by those we longed for and loved.

Whatever, frustration set in and we experienced an unenviable, though inevitable, confrontation with reality.

As a congregation, we need the tonic of truth contained in the apostle's review.

There was a goal which, though momentarily obscured by a plethora of potential possibilities, was always central to his life.

Just so, there is the all too real possibility that as a congregation we may momentarily mask our foundational motivation, and thus permit ourselves to become frustrated.

Thus frustrated, we are in danger of beginning to live in a dimension which has never existed ‑ the past.

Great dreams which fail expose us to *THE FOLLY OF UNBURIED DEFEAT*.

"Forgetting what is behind . .

." were the apostle's words.

"*Ta*` . . .

*opi*'*so*" is translated literally, "the things behind."

Memories are valuable when properly employed, and they are a curse when improperly used.

The memory of a defeat may prove of worth if we derive a lesson from the cause of the defeat and thus avoid further loss.

That same memory, if we dwell on the failure, condemns us to perpetual defeat, finally convincing us that we are somehow of less worth in the eyes of God or that we are unable to accomplish much for His cause, even though we toil in His Name.

The apostle speaks not of erasing or obliterating memory, but we speaks of the determination not to permit the past to dictate either the present or the future.

"The things behind" are best left there.

A past defeat is no guarantee that we will be defeated in a future contest; it may be but the blooding necessary to equip us for victory.

Canadian battalions were less than exciting at Ypres and in the Somme, but those engagements were only the training grounds equipping those same men for victory at Vimy.

Canadian troops experienced a disheartening defeat at Dieppe, yet it was but the necessary training for Anzio and later the liberation of Holland.

If this is true as we review the history of our nation, how much more true must it be for the Church of our Lord Jesus Christ.

The decay and the quiescence of the dark ages was but the respite needed for the reformation.

The infidelity and modernism of the early decades of this century were but the harbinger of revival and renewal among many of the saints in the thirties and the forties.

In the same way, our past apparent failures need be nothing more than preparation for future advance.

It all depends on us, and on our view of the past.

Will we be dictated to by past events?

Or will we turn our faces to a glorious future?

The decision is ours, and ours alone.

Lest you should imagine that I am in some way preaching unfairly to you, I assure you that I speak first to myself; for I confess that I need this reminder, and further I admit that I need you to boldly confront me on occasion to remind me of this message.

I understand all too well the tendency to permit the defeat of yesterday to lie unburied and the rotting corpse lying exposed to the view of everyone seems only to contribute to future defeat.

Yet as a congregation, our lives are intertwined in a most intricate and ingenious fashion, and we cannot ignore the consequences of such sin against our Lord, the Risen Christ as to advance into the future looking backwards.

The undelivered witness of yesterday will either rise to accuse us, or will serve to spur us to renewed effort to speak to another in the Name of the Son of God.

The past failure to live as we thought we should will either condemn us to continue in defeat, or it shall serve to teach us humility in the face of our foes as we equip ourselves for victory through dependence upon the strength promised in Christ.

The unrealized dream of obtaining a building for our own will either serve to shove us into the dismal swamp of despair, or it will prompt us to work and pray all the harder to win even more that together we can together obtain that prize.

Each issue will be resolved ‑ whether for the individual or for the collective Body ‑ by how we employ the past.

"Forgetting what is behind" . . .

letting the past lie buried and thus no longer capable of ruling our response to the challenge of tomorrow, we are able to anticipate *THE FORECAST OF UNREALIZED DESTINY* ‑ ". . .

[S]training toward what is ahead."

Here, the apostle's thoughts grow agitated, his speech becomes staccato and his words abrupt, contrasting as he does "the things behind" and "the things ahead" ‑ *ta*` . . .

*opi*'*so* and *toi*^*s* . . .

*e*'*mprosthen*.