Pastor Danielle Pilgrim’s Sermon on God’s Grace
JARRETT AND THE CHILDREN BUILD A FIRM FOUNDATION
Pastor Danielle Pilgrim delivered the Sabbath sermon at Berean Seventh-day Adventist Church, Atlanta on July 23, 2016. The enthusiasm level of the congregation was highly elevated even before Pastor Pilgrim commenced her remarks. Immediately preceding the sermon, the choral group Children of God, under the direction of Jarret Roseborough ( a protégé of Dr. Lloyd Mallory), presented the Kurt Carr composition “For Every Mountain.” This song portentously lingers about in a minor key, before resolving itself into what may only be an implied major key. The mind of the listeners is so anxious for this resolution, it may just be a figment of their imaginations (practically every song in Fiddler on the Roof does the same thing, and it is a hallmark of what many have labelled, either condescendingly or respectfully, “Jewish Music”). Pastor Pilgrim’s remarks begin at time marker 1:49:48 in this link to a YouTube video of the ENTIRE SERVICE.
A SERMON ABOUT “GRACE,” AN INDISPENSBLE COMMODITY
“If you’re thankful for the mountains that He has brought you over, if you are thankful for the valleys that He has brought you through, keep praising Him.” This statement by Pastor Pilgrim, an allusion to the preceding song, provided a bridge into the “spoken word” segment of this Sabbath’s service, and additionally granted the congregation a few additional seconds for their collective adrenaline level to subside. The song’s theme, praise, continued to linger in the atmosphere of the sanctuary, so the pastor wisely capitalized upon this by extending her improvised transition: “You can’t help but, when you look over your life, and see all the mercy He has bestowed on you… the blessings that you did not deserve, [to] give Him praise. You know, last night I was in worship, and I just got in awe of the love and the glory of God, and I just burst out in tears thinking that I have an audience of one, that I have the audience of a magnificent God who takes the time to listen to my prayers. I just say ‘Hallelujah! For this I give Him praise!'”
A short prayer by the pastor noted her unworthiness to presume to be a spokesperson for God [to quote Pastor Emeritus Perry Jennings, “none of us are worthy”], but she aspired to be used by God as a conduit for the message that He had placed on her heart. She prayed for the clarity of her delivery, and that people would be blessed. The text for this Sabbath presentation was from Luke 15:1-3. “And the Bible says…”
Then all the tax collectors and the sinners drew near to Him to hear Him. And the Pharisees and scribes complained, saying, “This Man receives sinners and eats with them.” So He spoke this parable to them, saying: (NKJV)
“That is it. You may be seated,” Pastor Pilgrim stated. The ostensibly incomplete scriptural citation served to raise the level of anticipation for whatever kind of preaching or teaching might be based upon it. But a second look at what might, at first glace, seem to be merely a preamble to the kind of lengthier references that a more traditionally modelled sermon would normally be based upon reveals that these three verses, all by themselves, contain some very important information about Jesus. This is apparent when we reflect upon this important point: we are all sinners. Yet God still puts up with us, “eats” with us, if you please. “…I would like to preach to you today on the subject of grace,” Pastor Pilgrim said.
The speaker directed us to confess to our fellow worshippers that we were, everyone of us, “a subject of grace.”
The body of the sermon, having been properly introduced, began to unfold. “You know,” Pastor Pilgrim confided, “I am led to believe that one of the most misunderstood Biblical concepts in the Seventh-day Adventist Church is the concept of God’s grace.” The pastor confesses that she herself had, at times, has not properly comprehended the subject of “God’s grace.” An denomination-wide focus on the subject of “works” (analogous to the oft criticized level of attention that Adventists direct toward obedience to the “law,” and equally misinterpreted by both outsiders and church members alike) was alluded to by Pastor Pilgrim in her next statement: “…If the truth be told, many of us, through the years, have been in the business of trying to earn God’s grace, And if you have been in the church long enough, I’m sure you have heard some folks say these phrases:”
“You better get it right so God can bless you.”
“You better clean yourself up, so God can save you.”
Although these statements may have been made with the best of intentions, they nevertheless reflect, according to Pastor Pilgrim, a misunderstanding of the concept of grace. The pastor now cited a fact that everyone has heard, but many (by their words and actions) act as if they do not believe. “…There is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace. You can’t ‘work’ your way into receiving grace. You can’t tease God into giving you grace. And you sure can’t manipulate God into giving you grace.” The means whereby we may obtain God’s grace was illustrated by the pastor through the use of a rhetorical device with the intimidating name Antimetabole: “Grace is not something that you can chase, but grace is something that chases after you.” Pastor Pilgrim repeated this assertion. She revealed that “by default,” we had already met the prerequisite for grace. “…The prerequisite for God’s grace is sin, and by now we have all mastered sin.” Rhetorical Anaphora was now deployed [the summarizer swears to one day stop dragging in these Greek terms, despite their usefulness for describing sermon structure]:
“Some of us have a Bachelor’s degree in sin.”
“Some of us have a Master’s in sin, and…”
“Most of us have a PhD in sin!”
“So grace is not something that you can work for, or something that you can pay for. Grace is something that is freely given,” the pastor reminded everyone. “The reality is… when sin entered this world, sin made grace a necessity, for if there would be no sin, there would be no grace.” A supplementary note was added by the pastor. “As much as God loves the angels… who are perfect, who are obedient, and who are faithful, the angels have never experienced grace. Neither has God extended to them grace, for they have never sinned.” It is an attribute of God that is “only reserved for undeserving human beings,” said the pastor [the replication of the “serv” in the two words is a possible instance of rhetorical Polyptoton by the speaker. I vow to now stop intruding so rudely, and so often into the pastor’s discourse. A less obtrusive comment would be this one: some preachers believe that one of our tasks in heaven will be to attempt to explain to the angels what it is like to be forgiven our sins, to give them some insight into the blessings of God’s grace].
“Furthermore, ‘grace,’ by its very definition, means ‘favor…'” The pastor continued, “It’s favor that God gives to undeserving human beings like you and me.” The Greek meaning of the word “grace,” as employed in scripture implies extreme condescension, and evokes an image of “God, stooping Himself low, in kindness, to distribute favor in a gracious manner” (to “undeserving human beings,” the pastor added as she repeated her assertion specifically for the “nosebleed section” of the audience, that shy crowd that inhabits the balcony). The pastor concluded, therefore, that “grace has nothing to do with us, but it has everything to do with God, and all we do is… provide the sin that makes grace a necessity” {not the most honorable of contributions, and nothing to be particularly proud about, for we’re no angels].
Pastor Pilgrim revealed that she did not fully understand the concept of “grace” until she had experienced the road test portion of the Driver’s License Examination. She admitted to the low opinion held by some Berean church leaders of her driving abilities: “They will try to tell you that I bought my license,” Pastor Pilgrim confessed. But she added that she actually “passed the test, but by grace.”
The pastor declared that she was not an exceptionally bad driver, but on the day of the road test, a prerequisite for obtaining a license, she was not exactly in top form. She was in a rush. She had only had two driving lessons prior to the exam. “I remember I was a nervous wreck. I mean I was terrible!” she painfully recalled. “I remember getting into the car, and the driving [examiner], she’s sitting there; I don’t know if this was because we were in New York, or what it was, but she had no expressions! I mean, she said nothing! All she did was type.” Pastor Pilgrim tries to break through the reserve of the examiner, hoping to establish a human bond between the two of them. “How are you doing? Hope you are having a good day!” The future pastor’s friendly overtures fell upon deaf ears. All the examiner returned was a simple “Hello, Miss Pilgrim.” The road test was begun, and all was proceeding smoothly enough. But five minutes into the test, Pastor Pilgrim revealed that, for some reason, “I just turned into a crazy woman. I mean, anything that could go wrong, did go wrong.” The pastor’s performance inexplicably deteriorated.
As tester and tested approached an intersection, the tester requested Miss Pilgrim to “make a right” at the upcoming stop sign. The examinee reflected to herself that this proposed action would not be difficult. But Murphy’s Law started to take effect at the intersection. Instead of turning right, Pastor Pilgrim made instead a left. Partially into the wrong turn, she realized her error, and redirected the car to conform to the examiner’s original instruction. The sangfroid of the examiner was not perturbed at all by this world-class display of ineptitude by the pastor. “She just keeps typing,” Pastor Pilgrim related, “and I’m sure she’s typing ‘you’ve failed!'”
Further down the block, the examiner issues a command: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car.” The pastor must not have responded with sufficient alacrity, so the examiner repeated her instruction: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car.” Miss Pilgrim was hesitant about simply slamming on the brakes, as she was being tested. Portents of irrationality were displayed by the examiner as she abrasively erupted a third time: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car!” The purpose of the stop was now revealed. The pastor was instructed to “parallel park,” a skill she had only learned one hour prior to the road test. She quickly reviewed the correct procedure in her mind, and then methodically began to implement it. Despite a resurgence in the driving aptitude of the examinee, she felt as the test had already been failed. The examiner continued to type away, pausing just long enough to open the passenger side door of the car in order to pass judgment upon how proximate the freshly parked car was to the curb. “Now get out of the space,” was the next terse command. Pastor Pilgrim revealed to the congregation that “getting out of a parallel-parked space is more difficult than getting into the space.” For what seemed like five minutes, the pastor inched forwards and backwards, eventual successfully extricating herself from the space.
“And now we have gotten back to where we started, and she is ready to give me my results,” continued the pastor. “And she looks at me, and she says ‘Miss Pilgrim… you are one crazy driver… I told you to make a right, and then you make a left, and then you think that it’s OK to make a right in the middle of the left, without looking at the traffic. You are crazy!’ I said OK. Then she said ‘To make matters worse, you have poor judgment…'” The pastor wanted this criticism to cease, and thought to herself, “Just give me my papers. I know I failed.” Pastor Pilgrim now revealed the unexpected outcome of this highly unpromising road test: “But now she says the key word,,, ‘But nevertheless,’ thank God for conjunctions, she says ‘nevertheless, although your driving is crazy, you still pass the test.”
“And that’s when I understood grace. Because I did not deserve to pass the test. She passed me anyway. Because I did not perform well, but she passed me anyway… Is there anyone in here who is thankful for the fact that grace is not based on how you perform, but grace is a gift from the lord? Good news! Good news!” Pastor Pilgrim had reached a climactic point in her sermon.
Pastor Pilgrim’s colleague, Pastor Austin Humphreys, would have doubtlessly enjoyed some ratification of a similar emotional peak in one of his sermons by the use of an organ riff or two. Pastor Pilgrim’s sermon displayed a similar level of emotion, but the absence of a dialogue with the Hammond organ enhances the portability of her presentation. Emotional preaching styles are believed by a scholar of these styles, Dr. Henry H. Mitchell, to have originated with George Whitfield, but were eagerly embraced by African Americans, and melded with their own longstanding traditions. It is not a degenerate form of a more sophisticated model, but is, instead, meritorious in its own right. It has increasingly influenced contemporary white preaching styles. Pentecostals are not afraid to display enthusiasm. Emotional presentations in several other white denominations are no longer as rare as they used to be, and have never fully disappeared among the “circuit riding” evangelical type of preachers. But the introduction of the organ into the midst of a sermon is still predominantly (unless you are perhaps Pentecostal) exclusive to the African American church.
One day the remaining irrational white prejudices against anything that is manifestly African American may cease to exist. The integration of black musical influences is now so complete, most white Americans may no longer even be cognizant of the African influence on the vast majority of it. Pastor Humphreys’ preaching style represents a kind of summation of black preaching techniques, but would be dismissed by some lukewarm congregations as too far removed from the sedentary style to which they may have grown comfortably accustomed to (even fellow Adventist congregations, at least in the USA). Traditional black preaching techniques can be absorbed directly from the atmosphere at Oakwood University, Pastor Humphreys’ alma mater. Now Pastor Pilgrim herself has revealed her mastery of these techniques (sans organ riffs). She attended Andrews University, not Oakwood. But, historically (and despite Dr. Mitchell’s elevation of the role George Whitfield may have played in all of this), the direction of influence is predominately black to white, and not white to black (more of that Antimetabole stuff). Andrews has presumably absorbed much of this influence by now, and has, perhaps, in turn influenced Danielle Pilgrim.
But Pastor Pilgrim is competent enough to forge her own individual style. The broader the appeal of this developing style, the greater the number of souls that will potentially be rescued from eternal extinction as she undertakes the demanding task of mediating between God and fallen man. She is not obliged to be consistent. It is perfectly acceptable to tailor one’s delivery technique in order to accommodate the culture and capacities of different audiences. But everyone with integrity will eventually develop a fundamental style, and modifications to it are more like “variations on a theme,” rather than “pandering to the crowd. Without this strong foundation, one could end up like the late character actor Phil Hartman. He once stated, “I have played so many roles, I no longer even know who I am.” Atlanta architect John Portman is in the same boat, but will probably not end his own life over his basic lack of identity, as did Hartman. Wikipedia has graciously designated Portman a “Neofuturist.” This could be construed as an insult, however, as the original Italian Futurists were a pack of fascist hooligans!
To pick up where we left off- Pastor Pilgrim continued to extract whatever lessons that could be derived from her eventful driver’s license road test. “The reality is that grace has nothing to do with the receiver [Miss Pilgrim, or you and I], but it has everything to do with the giver” [The examiner, or God]. Not to be bought or earned. Simply to be accepted.
“It’s easy to understand why we misunderstand grace, because we live in a world where everything costs something. Nothing comes free, and nothing is easy, so I understand why we misunderstand grace.” But Pastor Pilgrim could not understand a group who she now described as “folk who try to make others feel like they are excluded from receiving God’s grace.” The import of the reference to the judgmental attitudes of the Pharisees, found within the verses from Luke 15, was about to be revealed. The sermon would shift from the theme of God’s grace as a force in itself, to a criticism of why we, self-proclaimed “Christians,” seem to be unwilling to extend the kind of grace that God grants to us to other people.
This theme just happens to encompass one of the most important debates within Adventist circles at present. A significant number of recent sermons at Berean have addressed this issue via various means and methods, using many different instances of Biblical verification of this fundamental premise, one that has a bearing on expanding and retaining church membership: we as a church, and we as individuals are obligated to display love and forgiveness (“grace” is a pretty good synonym for this theme), and not judgment and exclusion toward those who are still seeking, but have at present not yet found Jesus. This love should also be extended to current members who may be experiencing some temporary setbacks in their walk with the Lord. Old members drift away, incapable of enduring the approbation of those have maintained their sanctity (or are, at least, very good at pretending that they have). New members are courted, convicted, and even baptized, only to soon grow disenchanted, and then wander away again. They have all been treated as Persona non grata.
The “folk,” who are often also referred to as “church folk,” were now to be subject to some analysis and admonishment by Pastor Pilgrim. She continued, “…but what I don’t understand, and what I don’t get is ‘folk‘ who try to make others feel like they are excluded from receiving God’s grace. What do I mean? Well, there are some folk in the church who grumble at the fact that Jesus extends grace to people who think differently than they do.” The short text from Luke was about to be reintroduced. The pastor remarked, “If you don’t believe me, let’s look at the text.”
“The Bible says in the Simonic text [this link will not help me at all! Try Simony, or maybe cross-bearing Simone of Cyrene] that ‘while Jesus was preaching, the tax collectors and sinners came to hear Him.’ Alright, but notice that the Bible also says that the Pharisees and scribes also came to hear Him. But observe this: they did not come to hear what Jesus had to say. They came to complain to Jesus. And how many of you know that there are folk who do not come to church to hear what Jesus has to say, but to complain about other things?” [Pastor Roger Hernandez furnished an example of one of these complaints in his July 16 sermon: “Who has the keys to the kitchen?”]. Not to hear the Word, Pastor Pilgrim noted, but to complain about the pastor. Not to hear the music, but to complain about the music. Not to give tithes and offerings, but to complain about the building. “I’m talking about Pharisees, and scribes” [I hope God and the pastor will forgive me for inserting this self-serving LINK].
“And the Bible says that ‘the Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus to argue with Him about receiving tax collectors and sinners.’ Now you have got to understand the life of the Pharisees and the scribes [in order] to understand and grasp the repulsiveness of their complaint.” The pastor described the Pharisees as being enamored with their own perfection, based on their perfect obedience of the (highly augmented) laws and commandments. “They were so perfect.” Pastor Pilgrim humorously noted, “that they were ready for Translation [one must be at least a little familiar with scripture to appreciate this joke], and they prided themselves on their holiness.” The scribes were also revealed to be very self-satisfied. The pastor noted that “they thought so highly of themselves, that they even added to the law…”
The two groups of Jews that are mentioned at the beginning of Luke 15 are composed of one that is elite, astute, financially well-off, and “holier-than-thou.” They looked down their noses at group two, who were poor, uneducated, or tax-collectors (a group despised by pretty much everyone, perhaps even the stray dogs), and group one believed that group two were not even worthy of God’s grace. The “holier-than-thou” crowd tried to stay separated from those who manifested what Pastor Pilgrim significantly designated “external sins.” The smug denizens of group one exacerbated the level of their own hypocrisy by focusing solely upon the “external” sins of group two, rather “the internal sins of their own heart,” The events from Luke were applied to our own epoch, as the pastor accused church “folk” of often exhibiting an identical level of hypocrisy. “…some of us focus on the external sins of others, while we neglect to focus on the internal sins of our own hearts,” she observed.
Danielle Pilgrim now made, somewhat parenthetically, the kind of statement that those who are not willing to compromise the Word of God are not afraid to make [it is the straight from the pages of the Bible, and therefore obnoxious to whomever choses to live their life in flagrant violation of Biblical precepts}. Here is the complete context that framed the “politically incorrect” bombshell that is nested within its parameters: “Understand that the Pharisees thought they were free from sin. But the truth is that, the last time I checked my Bible, just as homosexuality is an abomination unto the Lord, the Bible says that a prideful look is also an abomination unto the Lord.” The pastor continued, saying “The last time I checked my Bible, just as it says shedding of innocent blood is an abomination unto the Lord, the Lord also says that the mouth that soweth discord [another reference to the grumblers in Luke 15, and also to their modern counterparts] is also an abomination unto the Lord. And the truth of the matter is that all sin is an offence to the Lord. And the truth is that we have all sinned, and all fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)
Here are a few lazy pastes that are relevant to Pastor Pilgrim’s first parenthetical statement: Leviticus 18:22: Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination. Leviticus 20:13: If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them. Deuteronomy 23:17: There shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel, nor a sodomite of the sons of Israel. This all seems pretty unambiguous. Many feign an inability to comprehend these simple injunctions, however, and gather themselves into groups in order to reinforce each others learning disorders. [None of these people are likely to be very pleased by the pastor’s mention of the Word of God. Neither are they particularly pleased with me, at present!]
Here is the source of the pastor’s second reference, from the King James, Proverbs 6:16-19: These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
So in the first verses of Luke, the first group of sinners (“church folk”) are upset that Jesus “had the audacity to extend grace to other sinners,” stated the pastor. “And so the ontological question we must ask today, based on the parameters of this text is ‘why does Jesus receive sinners?'” Pastor Pilgrim assured us that the answer was simple. “Whether you’re inside the church, or you’re outside the church, Jesus receives sinners because all sinners are in need of grace,” she said. God neither minimizes nor condones sin, but “He gives you grace to save you from your sin.”
The bellyaching of the Pharisees and scribes with regard to Jesus’ inclusivism was not unprecedented. Pastor Pilgrim revealed that a similar grievance had been aired by this judgmental demographic a bit earlier in the Gospels. The pastor conjectured that perhaps Jesus was getting annoyed with their complaints. But she qualified her conjecture as follows: “One of the things I admire about Jesus is that He has the skill of telling people about themselves while trying to save them. See, a lot of us don’t have that skill. ‘Church folk’ don’t have that skill, they’ll just tell you about yourself” [without the slightest concern for the souls of the targets of their vituperation].
The pastor noted that Jesus uses three parables to explain why He extends grace to sinners. The most famous of these parables is the parable of the Prodigal Son. But a knowledge of the other two parables is a necessary accessory to the full appreciation of the “keynote” parable. The first parable in the sequence is that of the “Lost Sheep,” which is related immediately after the three verses from Luke 15 that had heretofore been the principal object of Pastor Pilgrim’s exegesis. The pastor summarized the gist of this first parable for the congregation: “What man, having 100 sheep, loses one sheep and does not leave the 99 and go after that one lost sheep?” This parable was used for several reasons.
The pastor revealed the first of these reasons: “You have to realize that these Pharisees were wealthy people, and in that culture the amount of sheep you had demonstrated the amount of wealth you had.” Jesus discerned that they valued possessions over people. They would have perhaps stuck by their 99 “birds in the hand,” rather than pursue just one in that had become lost “in the bush.” Pastor Pilgrim stated that this parable indicated that God considers everyone to be worth saving [and additionally perhaps, that He was no “respecter of persons”]. “No sin will make you less worthy of His grace,” the pastor assured us.
“Here’s the second thing… that this parable teaches us about God’s grace,” the pastor said, “and I like this one the most, because it shows you the love of God… God’s grace is relentless… His grace is the relentless pursuit toward the object of His affection” [here is Romans 8:38-39: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Here is a less admirable reference, a link to the song “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” the first version recorded by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell].
An event from the pastor’s former life in the Big Apple would now serve to illustrate the concept of “relentless pursuit.” She introduced her relation of this personal anecdote by proclaiming, “God’s grace is like a relentless man who is determined to find a woman. Did you ever see a single man trying to chase a woman?”
Pastor Pilgrim mentioned that she “had a lot of New York stories” [the expression “Only In New York” comes to mind. This link is to a song from “Thoroughly Modern Millie” that apparently only Broadway performers actually care about]. Replicated below is the New York story that Pastor Pilgrim related to the congregation.
“I was in a train onetime, and I was literally being pursued by a stranger. I mean, it was the craziest thing I have ever seen, I have ever experienced.” A man comes up to Miss Pilgrim and says “Hi! My name’s Jason. What’s your name?” The future pastor thinks to herself, “yeah… alright,” resigned to be polite to the importunate stranger. She responds, “My name’s Danielle.” He then says, “Nice to meet you, Danielle. You are so beautiful!” “Well thank you, thank you,” is the young lady’s reply. Pastor Pilgrim continues her anecdote: “And then, he gets up from the seat, and then he gets down on his knees… and says, ‘Danielle, you’re the one! Will you marry me?’ I kid you not! This is a true story! He said, ‘will you marry me?’ And I looked at him and said, ‘Boy, you’re crazy. Leave me alone!’ He does not stop there. Homeboy… [the pastor, exasperated by the recollection of this exasperating encounter, paused for a second, and then continued] and he’s like, ‘Danielle, will you marry me?’ ‘Well Jason, no! I will not marry you!’ And so I get up, and I run to the next car. And, kid you not, Jason crawls from that car to the next car, on his knees, screaming ‘Danielle! Will you marry me?’ And I said ‘No!’ And then he proceeds to grab my ankles, screaming, ‘DANIELLE! WILL YOU MARRY ME?’”
The pastor ended her narration, and then proffered commentary and analysis. “Now, he was [delusional], but he was persistent. The point is that grace is so relentless, and is so persistent, that even when you’re trying to reject God, God will grab hold of you!” Pastor Pilgrim’s associates on the Berean ministerial staff both responded appreciatively to the New York story, and the lesson that had been distilled from it. It certainly was not the kind of tale that one hears in most Sabbath sermons, and could very well have been unprecedented.
“Understand that God is so relentless, that if I make my bed in Hell, He will pursue me there. God is so relentless, that if I go into the heavens, God will pursue me there. He said ‘if I make my bed in the bottom of the ocean,’ God will pursue me there. God’s grace is relentless, and He will pursue you until He gets you! That guy was crazy, by the way. He was crazy… he was crazy.”
The second of the three parables about grace was now described by the pastor: the Parable of the Lost Coin. “You know how it goes,” Pastor Pilgrim affirmed. “The parable says that… the woman has ten coins… and she is in her house, and she loses one of those coins. And the Bible says that she is determined to find that coins, and she turns on the lamps, she takes her broom, and she sweeps the entire house until she can find that coin…” She turns the house upside-down, and at long last finds the coin. “What you’ve got to understand… about the depth of this parable is that that coin was a Drachma coin, and a Drachma coin was worth about one day’s wage.” The value of the coin made its recovery urgent.
The pastor stated that this parable, like the preceding one, was descriptive of the fact that the Pharisees valued their possessions over people. Were the prima fascia meaning of the parable all that was being considered, the Pharisees would endorse an intensive search for money that “large” (a KJV style adjective). But the pastor revealed that the deeper meaning of this story is not about the fact that a coin is lost, but rather where the coin was lost. You’ll get it in a second,” she added [I could not imagine what she might be about to reveal regarding the significance of the location of the coin, and was reminded of Pastor Hernandez’s creative analysis of the tale of the paralytic whose and still be lostfriends could not get him close to Jesus. The reason? Other people were blocking the way! People just like you and me! Blocking access to Jesus! Get it?].
“You see in the first parable, the sheep was lost outside of the shepherd’s fold. But in this parable, the coin is lost inside of the master’s house, demonstrating you could be inside of God’s fold, and still be lost.”
“And the truth of the matter is, you can be in the church, and still be lost!”
“Your names can be on the books, but you can still be lost!”
“You can know the Bible cover to cover, and still be lost!” [Epistrophe, this reiteration of “still be lost.” Sorry to interrupt!]
“And the message that Jesus was trying to send to the Pharisees and scribes is that ‘you are in the house of God, but you still [are] lost.'”
Jesus was addressing Pharisees and scribes. Pastor Pilgrim was addressing the group that has inherited the mantle of these holy hypocrites, the “church folk.” Many of us were now cast adrift, so the pastor generously tossed us a life preserver:
“But the good news about this parable is… that even when we are lost inside of the house, Jesus is still so persistent and relentless to make sure that we’re found.” Pastor Pilgrim now provided the key to the parable, a blessing for those of us who are not quick-witted: “You see, the woman represented Jesus, and she was determined to find what needed to be found” [I found this plain explanation to be very helpful, and was reminded of an instance just before holy communion where Pastor Russell once helpfully informed us that “We are the Prodigal Son. The father is God.” In an example of a case of life imitating daydream, the Parable of the Prodigal Son was now unveiled by the pastor. The errant anti-hero of this tale certainly received grace, as un-tempered justice would have been better served by his having been starved to death in the Far Country.
“I’m excited by this story… It has the crux of the message that God wants to share…” The pastor offered a synopsis of parable three. “There was a father. He had two sons. The youngest son said to the father, ‘I want my inheritance,’ and the Father does not complain… he simply gives him his inheritance… the younger brother leaves, he goes to a far country and he spends all his money, he lost all he has. And while he’s there he realizes that things are bad. And now he’s broke, and now he’s sold himself as a slave, taking care of pigs. And when he came to his senses, the Bible says that the son returns home.”
[Here is a link to Ellen White’s own synopsis of this parable, taken from “Christ’s Object Lessons,” contained in a chapter entitled “Lost, and is Found.” One of the “object lessons” Pastor Pilgrim was to draw from the story is also alluded to by White on page 205 of this work: “Do not listen to the enemy’s suggestion to stay away from Christ until you have made yourself better; until you are good enough to come to God. If you wait until then, you will never come.”]
“I love this parable because it has so much beautiful imagery.” The beauty is attended by meaning. Pastor Pilgrim continued: “The first [point] that this parable is tailored to teach us about grace is that grace was based on the response of the father.” The pastor noted that the parable was not really about the son (his motives, actions, and the subsequent consequences thereof being a pretty common, at least among human beings, phenomenon), but rather about the father (whose magnanimity is, alas, all too uncommon). “It’s all about the Father’s response to the son, so understand that in Jewish culture, it was a dishonor for the child to take all of the inheritance, and spend it all before the father died,” So the Prodigal Son knew hat he would not be received joyfully. The possibility existed that he could be stoned.
“When he left home he was rich, but returning home he was poor.”
“When he left home he was a virgin, but returning home he was sexually impure.”
“When he left home he was clean, but returning he was filthy.”
[These statements not only display Anaphora in the repetition of “When he left home,” but also a second rhetorical device: Contrast.]
“Considering the fact that he took care of pigs,” hypothesized the pastor, “he most likely smelled like a pig, looked like a pig, maybe even talked like a pig.” Because the son is now “an absolute disgrace to the father,” the pastor noted, the imagery of the parable was enhanced. The diamond of his father’s grace was better highlighted when contrasted against the black velvet backdrop of the son’s malfeasances. The father viewed his hitherto “lost” son from far off as the latter returned to the “fold.” This reunion was chock full of meaning, Pastor Pilgrim remarked. “You’ve got to understand that there was deep significance in the father embracing the wayward son,” said the pastor. The lesson? “No matter what sinful condition you find yourself in, God’s grace will embrace you, wherever you are. …You can’t be too messed up for God to embrace you… Jesus embraced you while you were ‘yet a sinner'” [anther New York Story illustrating the topic of “embrace” was to shortly make its appearance].
In addition, not only did the Prodigal Son’s father’s embrace not heed the filthiness (both physical and spiritual), of his son, he also did not mind the fact that his son’s had not yet repented of his sins. “Before the son could muster up the words of repentance, the Bible says that the father had already embraced him,” the pastor stated. She offered further insight into this unconditional acceptance. “But that’s not the best part of the text, because some scholars believe that, although the son was eventually repentant, his motivation for repentance was self-preservation.” He had no money, and was starving in the far country, His motivation for going home was not an exalted one.
“Some of us, like the Prodigal Son, only come back to the father when things are going wrong.”
“Some of us only pray when things are going wrong.”
“Some of us only fast when things are going wrong, and our motive for coming back to the Father is self-preservation.”
[Pastor Pilgrim limits the typical duration of her Anaphora and Epistrophe to three or four components, a reasonable number. When preachers exceed this number, they usually completely traverse the middle path in order to furnish 10 or 12 examples. This many variations on a theme is enough to raise the level of excitement of a congregation to the point where many will be brought to their feet. It no doubt taxes the memory of the speaker. Thankfully, most preacher’s memories are much more reliable than mine!]
Here is one “further insight” of Pastor Pilgrim: “The beauty of grace is, that even when your motives are selfish, God still extends grace anyways… because grace has nothing to do with you, but has everything to do with God.” The pastor revealed that a consideration of this divine attribute is enough to bring tears to her eyes. “…I realized that as much as I had been ‘trying to be saved,’ there is no ‘trying to be saved,’ I am saved by God’s grace. And you’ve got to thankful for the fact that no matter what you do, no matter how much you hurt God, God still extends grace to save you.”
A final observation was made about the unmerited embrace that the Prodigal Son’s father “graced” him with. “The father is the one that ran to the son and initiated the embrace.” Grace was “initiated” by the father, Pastor Pilgrim noted [a less charitable explanation of this interception of the bedraggled son is floating around somewhere, but I am excluding it from the canon for today]. The pursuit of the son by the father was indicative of what can be described as the main theme of the sermon, stated at the outset, and now this “mission statement” was repeated (thereby providing the sermon with a neat set of oratorical bookends):
“Grace is not something you can chase after, but grace is what chases after you.”
“You know, when I think about God embracing that filthy son, I’m thankful that God is nothing like me, because if it were up to me there would be no grace extended.” Pastor Pilgrim cued the musicians, and then concluded her remarks with a story.
“You know, I was in a train one day (I was always in a train in New York), and on the train there was a homeless lady who was sitting across from me.” Pastor Pilgrim noted that the trains in New York are like shelters for homeless people. When you board a train, it is a lot like trespassing on their turf. “You could tell she was homeless,” the pastor continued. “She had all of her belongings with her. She smelled like urine. She looked like she had not taken a bath in three months, or six months. Her face was greasy. You could see the dirt piled up on her face, you could see that her hair was matted. And she smelled so funky.” The pastor had painted a detailed picture of the scene. She would now describe her reaction to this woebegone denizen of the New York Transit Authority.
Pastor Pilgrim confessed that her appraisal of the homeless lady was that of a human being, and not that of a saint. She was a little scornful of the marginalized wretch that shared her transport. “At one point, I dropped something on the floor. And I did not realize that I had dropped something. And I could smell her presence coming over to me, because I could smell her, and I looked up…” The pastor confessed that her thoughts were not benevolent, but rather apprehensive as to what the outcast’s intentions towards her might be. “And I looked up, and she had the thing that I had dropped upon the floor. And I was in awe that she would do that.” Everyone else on the train had also noticed the dropped object, but they were all behaving true to type: like a bunch of New Yorkers [my cat informs me that this is a mean-spirited thing for me to say. I replied that, prior to becoming her fulltime custodian, I could actually visit places like New York, so I knew what I was talking about]. The pastor was overwhelmed with gratitude: “At that point I felt compelled to give her money, and I did the Christian thing, and I probably gave her like twenty dollars.”
They both exited the train at the same station. The homeless lady is smitten with Miss Pilgrim’s generosity, and approaches the young lady in a manner that portends a possible bear-hug of gratitude. Pastor Pilgrim reminded us of the previous description she had provided of the filthy condition of the lady. “I could see the dirt on her face. I could smell the urine from far away. And she is walking toward me to hug me…” And this lady, she’s twice my size, she engulfs me in this big hug! And at that moment (I’m being really honest right now), I was not in the spirit on the Lord’s day. I was in the flesh. She is hugging me with gratitude, and I am standing there disgusted by the fact that she is defiling me. And then to make matters worse, she not only hugs me, but then she plants this big, wet, juicy kiss on my cheek!” To bystanders, this was a “Kodak moment,” and they were all blessed to able to behold saintly Miss Pilgrim as she exhibited her Christlike concern for the downtrodden. “If they only knew what was in my mind…” the pastor said.
“I then realized that, although I had been given grace, I did not know how to extend grace, because all I knew was how to give a little, money, but not how to give a little compassion when she was in need. And the word is, when God gives you grace, you’ve got to know how to extend grace. God [the pastor utilized the true hero of the last of the parables, and not the outward symbol of the terrestrial father] took the son, who was filthy, and embraced him, not caring that He was being defiled.” Pastor Pilgrim qualified this statement. “The truth is, you can’t really defile God. But:
“God doesn’t care what you look like.”
“He doesn’t care what you smell like.”
“He doesn’t care what you did last night.”
“He doesn’t care what you did this morning.”
“He says, ‘listen:
My grace is sufficient for thee and
My grace will cover thee, and
My grace will change thee!'”
The paradox of wretched sinners dressing to the nines, then attending services with a fresh coat of whitewash on their sepulchers was noted by the pastor, a final barbed commentary on the hypocrisy of those awful “church folk.” People may be deceived, but God is not. “But God says ‘I can see your inside.'” We are not inwardly resplendent. God gives us his grace, for inside us lies the bones of dead men. Pastor Pilgrim very briefly noted a recurrent heresy that Paul once refuted with the strong exclamation “God forbid.” The pastor described the deluded conception that many hold with regard to grace: “Does this mean I can I do whatever I want to do? No! No! You don’t do right to be saved. You live right because you are saved” [As previously noted, Adventists strive to keep the commandments of God. A casual observer may be deceived as to the motivation for this obedience. It is not a prerequisite for anything, nor should it be a source of pride. It is simply a post priori manifestation of grace. To quote a hack songwriter (me), “It’s just a way of saying ‘thank you’ for benefits received]. “And what grace does, is it gives you the power of God to do the things that He asks you to do, because grace calls you to repentance…” [the absolute first item on everybody’s “to do list”].
“Today, as the praise team sings its appeal song, I want you think about the grace that God extends to you. And I want you to think about His love for you, His relentless pursuit, His desire to save you…” This last sentence constituted the first “appeal” by the pastor. At around time marker 2:31:05, the praise team performed a composition by Donnie McClurkin titled “Great is Your Mercy” [link is to the composer’s rendition, released back in 2000. The basic structure of this song has been recycled by dozens of songwriters. McClurkin is from South Carolina. Just over the border, in 1981 a “Blind Boy of North Carolina,” Ronnie Milsap wrote “I Wouldn’t Have Missed It For the World,” where one may discover the opening chords of “Great is Your Mercy” withheld until time marker 0:42. Not being a musicologist, I cannot begin to guess what the primary source for this material is. It could well be some ancient character like Palestrina, for all I know].
At time marker 2:35:47 Pastor Pilgrim insinuates herself into the song in order to administer a second appeal. It may very well have been aimed at those “church folk.” The pastor issued a challenge to “those who have been in the church… some time now, but you have not yet experienced the Lord. You have not yet accepted His grace, and accepted His favor, and accepted the work He wants to do in your life.” Perhaps, like the Prodigal Son, they had been received into the church prior to manifesting, inwardly at least, repentance, and absolute surrender to God. She called for a recommitment to the Lord, through rebaptism, by these individuals. A moments passed, and then a third appeal was made. This was a plea to those who may have allowed sin to distance themselves from God, but now desired to bridge this divide, and thereby resume a Closer Walk, A prayer by Berean Lead Pastor Fredrick Russell, one encompassing several of the themes of his colleague’s preceding presentation, concluded the sermon.
Lord, I pray right now because I an such a recipient of your grace, and I’m so glad, God, that the Father came to each of us when we were living far away from you. And like that lady on the train, God, we really smell, God. We’re really dirty, and not just on the outside, God, but sometimes the dirt was so much thicker on the inside. And it describes all of our lives. There was one day, God, when we decided ‘enough is enough.’ We looked at ourselves, and we saw how far we had travelled from God, and we saw [where] we were living in and decided to repent, and we decided to surrender and come to Jesus, Lord, and we came to you. You didn’t stand there with your arms folded, looking at us, and peering at us in all of our filthiness, but with all of the stench of sin all over us, you embraced us, and you said ‘you are mine,’ and you forgave us. And instead of us kissing you, you kissed us! And God, that’s nothing but grace!
I thank you Lord this morning for those in this house right now who know that.. they need God’s grace and forgiveness, and [know] how great His mercy is. And God, this morning we receive your grace, we receive your favor, we receive your treatment to us that we don’t deserve. And God, as we exit these doors in a little while, after baptism, God, we walk out of these doors as grace-filled, grace-covered, grace-embraced people, knowing that, as we encounter others that are living their life, others that are just not where you want them to be, others that act so ugly, so terrible, and living in such bad ways, even in our homes, we extend to them grace, we extend to them favor, and it just messes their mind up, because they are so used to people treating them differently (even we have treated them differently), and now they ask the question ‘why do you treat me like this? Why do you act this way toward me on this job when you have been so cold before?’ And our response is ‘this past weekend at my church I got a greater understanding of God’s grace towards me, and I learned that those who receive grace, they turn around, and they give grace.’
And I thank you, Father, for not only letting us experience it, but allowing us to allow others to experience it through our lives. Thank you for the word this morning, God. Thank you for this RHEMA WORD today. Thank you that we simply just heard what the gospel is all about. This was it this morning. It’s no more complicated than what Pastor Pilgrim [said], the word she preached today, from you. That is the gospel! Thank you God, for letting us hear it over, and over, and over again, for our prayer is in Jesus’ name. let all of God’s people say it together…
Amen.
Pastor Danielle Pilgrim delivered the Sabbath sermon at Berean Seventh-day Adventist Church, Atlanta on July 23, 2016. The enthusiasm level of the congregation was highly elevated even before Pastor Pilgrim commenced her remarks. Immediately preceding the sermon, the choral group Children of God, under the direction of Jarret Roseborough ( a protégé of Dr. Lloyd Mallory), presented the Kurt Carr composition “For Every Mountain.” This song portentously lingers about in a minor key, before resolving itself into what may only be an implied major key. The mind of the listeners is so anxious for this resolution, it may just be a figment of their imaginations (practically every song in Fiddler on the Roof does the same thing, and it is a hallmark of what many have labelled, either condescendingly or respectfully, “Jewish Music”). Pastor Pilgrim’s remarks begin at time marker 1:49:48 in this link to a YouTube video of the ENTIRE SERVICE.
A SERMON ABOUT “GRACE,” AN INDISPENSBLE COMMODITY
“If you’re thankful for the mountains that He has brought you over, if you are thankful for the valleys that He has brought you through, keep praising Him.” This statement by Pastor Pilgrim, an allusion to the preceding song, provided a bridge into the “spoken word” segment of this Sabbath’s service, and additionally granted the congregation a few additional seconds for their collective adrenaline level to subside. The song’s theme, praise, continued to linger in the atmosphere of the sanctuary, so the pastor wisely capitalized upon this by extending her improvised transition: “You can’t help but, when you look over your life, and see all the mercy He has bestowed on you… the blessings that you did not deserve, [to] give Him praise. You know, last night I was in worship, and I just got in awe of the love and the glory of God, and I just burst out in tears thinking that I have an audience of one, that I have the audience of a magnificent God who takes the time to listen to my prayers. I just say ‘Hallelujah! For this I give Him praise!'”
A short prayer by the pastor noted her unworthiness to presume to be a spokesperson for God [to quote Pastor Emeritus Perry Jennings, “none of us are worthy”], but she aspired to be used by God as a conduit for the message that He had placed on her heart. She prayed for the clarity of her delivery, and that people would be blessed. The text for this Sabbath presentation was from Luke 15:1-3. “And the Bible says…”
Then all the tax collectors and the sinners drew near to Him to hear Him. And the Pharisees and scribes complained, saying, “This Man receives sinners and eats with them.” So He spoke this parable to them, saying: (NKJV)
“That is it. You may be seated,” Pastor Pilgrim stated. The ostensibly incomplete scriptural citation served to raise the level of anticipation for whatever kind of preaching or teaching might be based upon it. But a second look at what might, at first glace, seem to be merely a preamble to the kind of lengthier references that a more traditionally modelled sermon would normally be based upon reveals that these three verses, all by themselves, contain some very important information about Jesus. This is apparent when we reflect upon this important point: we are all sinners. Yet God still puts up with us, “eats” with us, if you please. “…I would like to preach to you today on the subject of grace,” Pastor Pilgrim said.
The speaker directed us to confess to our fellow worshippers that we were, everyone of us, “a subject of grace.”
The body of the sermon, having been properly introduced, began to unfold. “You know,” Pastor Pilgrim confided, “I am led to believe that one of the most misunderstood Biblical concepts in the Seventh-day Adventist Church is the concept of God’s grace.” The pastor confesses that she herself had, at times, has not properly comprehended the subject of “God’s grace.” An denomination-wide focus on the subject of “works” (analogous to the oft criticized level of attention that Adventists direct toward obedience to the “law,” and equally misinterpreted by both outsiders and church members alike) was alluded to by Pastor Pilgrim in her next statement: “…If the truth be told, many of us, through the years, have been in the business of trying to earn God’s grace, And if you have been in the church long enough, I’m sure you have heard some folks say these phrases:”
“You better get it right so God can bless you.”
“You better clean yourself up, so God can save you.”
Although these statements may have been made with the best of intentions, they nevertheless reflect, according to Pastor Pilgrim, a misunderstanding of the concept of grace. The pastor now cited a fact that everyone has heard, but many (by their words and actions) act as if they do not believe. “…There is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace. You can’t ‘work’ your way into receiving grace. You can’t tease God into giving you grace. And you sure can’t manipulate God into giving you grace.” The means whereby we may obtain God’s grace was illustrated by the pastor through the use of a rhetorical device with the intimidating name Antimetabole: “Grace is not something that you can chase, but grace is something that chases after you.” Pastor Pilgrim repeated this assertion. She revealed that “by default,” we had already met the prerequisite for grace. “…The prerequisite for God’s grace is sin, and by now we have all mastered sin.” Rhetorical Anaphora was now deployed [the summarizer swears to one day stop dragging in these Greek terms, despite their usefulness for describing sermon structure]:
“Some of us have a Bachelor’s degree in sin.”
“Some of us have a Master’s in sin, and…”
“Most of us have a PhD in sin!”
“So grace is not something that you can work for, or something that you can pay for. Grace is something that is freely given,” the pastor reminded everyone. “The reality is… when sin entered this world, sin made grace a necessity, for if there would be no sin, there would be no grace.” A supplementary note was added by the pastor. “As much as God loves the angels… who are perfect, who are obedient, and who are faithful, the angels have never experienced grace. Neither has God extended to them grace, for they have never sinned.” It is an attribute of God that is “only reserved for undeserving human beings,” said the pastor [the replication of the “serv” in the two words is a possible instance of rhetorical Polyptoton by the speaker. I vow to now stop intruding so rudely, and so often into the pastor’s discourse. A less obtrusive comment would be this one: some preachers believe that one of our tasks in heaven will be to attempt to explain to the angels what it is like to be forgiven our sins, to give them some insight into the blessings of God’s grace].
“Furthermore, ‘grace,’ by its very definition, means ‘favor…'” The pastor continued, “It’s favor that God gives to undeserving human beings like you and me.” The Greek meaning of the word “grace,” as employed in scripture implies extreme condescension, and evokes an image of “God, stooping Himself low, in kindness, to distribute favor in a gracious manner” (to “undeserving human beings,” the pastor added as she repeated her assertion specifically for the “nosebleed section” of the audience, that shy crowd that inhabits the balcony). The pastor concluded, therefore, that “grace has nothing to do with us, but it has everything to do with God, and all we do is… provide the sin that makes grace a necessity” {not the most honorable of contributions, and nothing to be particularly proud about, for we’re no angels].
Pastor Pilgrim revealed that she did not fully understand the concept of “grace” until she had experienced the road test portion of the Driver’s License Examination. She admitted to the low opinion held by some Berean church leaders of her driving abilities: “They will try to tell you that I bought my license,” Pastor Pilgrim confessed. But she added that she actually “passed the test, but by grace.”
The pastor declared that she was not an exceptionally bad driver, but on the day of the road test, a prerequisite for obtaining a license, she was not exactly in top form. She was in a rush. She had only had two driving lessons prior to the exam. “I remember I was a nervous wreck. I mean I was terrible!” she painfully recalled. “I remember getting into the car, and the driving [examiner], she’s sitting there; I don’t know if this was because we were in New York, or what it was, but she had no expressions! I mean, she said nothing! All she did was type.” Pastor Pilgrim tries to break through the reserve of the examiner, hoping to establish a human bond between the two of them. “How are you doing? Hope you are having a good day!” The future pastor’s friendly overtures fell upon deaf ears. All the examiner returned was a simple “Hello, Miss Pilgrim.” The road test was begun, and all was proceeding smoothly enough. But five minutes into the test, Pastor Pilgrim revealed that, for some reason, “I just turned into a crazy woman. I mean, anything that could go wrong, did go wrong.” The pastor’s performance inexplicably deteriorated.
As tester and tested approached an intersection, the tester requested Miss Pilgrim to “make a right” at the upcoming stop sign. The examinee reflected to herself that this proposed action would not be difficult. But Murphy’s Law started to take effect at the intersection. Instead of turning right, Pastor Pilgrim made instead a left. Partially into the wrong turn, she realized her error, and redirected the car to conform to the examiner’s original instruction. The sangfroid of the examiner was not perturbed at all by this world-class display of ineptitude by the pastor. “She just keeps typing,” Pastor Pilgrim related, “and I’m sure she’s typing ‘you’ve failed!'”
Further down the block, the examiner issues a command: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car.” The pastor must not have responded with sufficient alacrity, so the examiner repeated her instruction: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car.” Miss Pilgrim was hesitant about simply slamming on the brakes, as she was being tested. Portents of irrationality were displayed by the examiner as she abrasively erupted a third time: “Miss Pilgrim. stop the car!” The purpose of the stop was now revealed. The pastor was instructed to “parallel park,” a skill she had only learned one hour prior to the road test. She quickly reviewed the correct procedure in her mind, and then methodically began to implement it. Despite a resurgence in the driving aptitude of the examinee, she felt as the test had already been failed. The examiner continued to type away, pausing just long enough to open the passenger side door of the car in order to pass judgment upon how proximate the freshly parked car was to the curb. “Now get out of the space,” was the next terse command. Pastor Pilgrim revealed to the congregation that “getting out of a parallel-parked space is more difficult than getting into the space.” For what seemed like five minutes, the pastor inched forwards and backwards, eventual successfully extricating herself from the space.
“And now we have gotten back to where we started, and she is ready to give me my results,” continued the pastor. “And she looks at me, and she says ‘Miss Pilgrim… you are one crazy driver… I told you to make a right, and then you make a left, and then you think that it’s OK to make a right in the middle of the left, without looking at the traffic. You are crazy!’ I said OK. Then she said ‘To make matters worse, you have poor judgment…'” The pastor wanted this criticism to cease, and thought to herself, “Just give me my papers. I know I failed.” Pastor Pilgrim now revealed the unexpected outcome of this highly unpromising road test: “But now she says the key word,,, ‘But nevertheless,’ thank God for conjunctions, she says ‘nevertheless, although your driving is crazy, you still pass the test.”
“And that’s when I understood grace. Because I did not deserve to pass the test. She passed me anyway. Because I did not perform well, but she passed me anyway… Is there anyone in here who is thankful for the fact that grace is not based on how you perform, but grace is a gift from the lord? Good news! Good news!” Pastor Pilgrim had reached a climactic point in her sermon.
Pastor Pilgrim’s colleague, Pastor Austin Humphreys, would have doubtlessly enjoyed some ratification of a similar emotional peak in one of his sermons by the use of an organ riff or two. Pastor Pilgrim’s sermon displayed a similar level of emotion, but the absence of a dialogue with the Hammond organ enhances the portability of her presentation. Emotional preaching styles are believed by a scholar of these styles, Dr. Henry H. Mitchell, to have originated with George Whitfield, but were eagerly embraced by African Americans, and melded with their own longstanding traditions. It is not a degenerate form of a more sophisticated model, but is, instead, meritorious in its own right. It has increasingly influenced contemporary white preaching styles. Pentecostals are not afraid to display enthusiasm. Emotional presentations in several other white denominations are no longer as rare as they used to be, and have never fully disappeared among the “circuit riding” evangelical type of preachers. But the introduction of the organ into the midst of a sermon is still predominantly (unless you are perhaps Pentecostal) exclusive to the African American church.
One day the remaining irrational white prejudices against anything that is manifestly African American may cease to exist. The integration of black musical influences is now so complete, most white Americans may no longer even be cognizant of the African influence on the vast majority of it. Pastor Humphreys’ preaching style represents a kind of summation of black preaching techniques, but would be dismissed by some lukewarm congregations as too far removed from the sedentary style to which they may have grown comfortably accustomed to (even fellow Adventist congregations, at least in the USA). Traditional black preaching techniques can be absorbed directly from the atmosphere at Oakwood University, Pastor Humphreys’ alma mater. Now Pastor Pilgrim herself has revealed her mastery of these techniques (sans organ riffs). She attended Andrews University, not Oakwood. But, historically (and despite Dr. Mitchell’s elevation of the role George Whitfield may have played in all of this), the direction of influence is predominately black to white, and not white to black (more of that Antimetabole stuff). Andrews has presumably absorbed much of this influence by now, and has, perhaps, in turn influenced Danielle Pilgrim.
But Pastor Pilgrim is competent enough to forge her own individual style. The broader the appeal of this developing style, the greater the number of souls that will potentially be rescued from eternal extinction as she undertakes the demanding task of mediating between God and fallen man. She is not obliged to be consistent. It is perfectly acceptable to tailor one’s delivery technique in order to accommodate the culture and capacities of different audiences. But everyone with integrity will eventually develop a fundamental style, and modifications to it are more like “variations on a theme,” rather than “pandering to the crowd. Without this strong foundation, one could end up like the late character actor Phil Hartman. He once stated, “I have played so many roles, I no longer even know who I am.” Atlanta architect John Portman is in the same boat, but will probably not end his own life over his basic lack of identity, as did Hartman. Wikipedia has graciously designated Portman a “Neofuturist.” This could be construed as an insult, however, as the original Italian Futurists were a pack of fascist hooligans!
To pick up where we left off- Pastor Pilgrim continued to extract whatever lessons that could be derived from her eventful driver’s license road test. “The reality is that grace has nothing to do with the receiver [Miss Pilgrim, or you and I], but it has everything to do with the giver” [The examiner, or God]. Not to be bought or earned. Simply to be accepted.
“It’s easy to understand why we misunderstand grace, because we live in a world where everything costs something. Nothing comes free, and nothing is easy, so I understand why we misunderstand grace.” But Pastor Pilgrim could not understand a group who she now described as “folk who try to make others feel like they are excluded from receiving God’s grace.” The import of the reference to the judgmental attitudes of the Pharisees, found within the verses from Luke 15, was about to be revealed. The sermon would shift from the theme of God’s grace as a force in itself, to a criticism of why we, self-proclaimed “Christians,” seem to be unwilling to extend the kind of grace that God grants to us to other people.
This theme just happens to encompass one of the most important debates within Adventist circles at present. A significant number of recent sermons at Berean have addressed this issue via various means and methods, using many different instances of Biblical verification of this fundamental premise, one that has a bearing on expanding and retaining church membership: we as a church, and we as individuals are obligated to display love and forgiveness (“grace” is a pretty good synonym for this theme), and not judgment and exclusion toward those who are still seeking, but have at present not yet found Jesus. This love should also be extended to current members who may be experiencing some temporary setbacks in their walk with the Lord. Old members drift away, incapable of enduring the approbation of those have maintained their sanctity (or are, at least, very good at pretending that they have). New members are courted, convicted, and even baptized, only to soon grow disenchanted, and then wander away again. They have all been treated as Persona non grata.
The “folk,” who are often also referred to as “church folk,” were now to be subject to some analysis and admonishment by Pastor Pilgrim. She continued, “…but what I don’t understand, and what I don’t get is ‘folk‘ who try to make others feel like they are excluded from receiving God’s grace. What do I mean? Well, there are some folk in the church who grumble at the fact that Jesus extends grace to people who think differently than they do.” The short text from Luke was about to be reintroduced. The pastor remarked, “If you don’t believe me, let’s look at the text.”
“The Bible says in the Simonic text [this link will not help me at all! Try Simony, or maybe cross-bearing Simone of Cyrene] that ‘while Jesus was preaching, the tax collectors and sinners came to hear Him.’ Alright, but notice that the Bible also says that the Pharisees and scribes also came to hear Him. But observe this: they did not come to hear what Jesus had to say. They came to complain to Jesus. And how many of you know that there are folk who do not come to church to hear what Jesus has to say, but to complain about other things?” [Pastor Roger Hernandez furnished an example of one of these complaints in his July 16 sermon: “Who has the keys to the kitchen?”]. Not to hear the Word, Pastor Pilgrim noted, but to complain about the pastor. Not to hear the music, but to complain about the music. Not to give tithes and offerings, but to complain about the building. “I’m talking about Pharisees, and scribes” [I hope God and the pastor will forgive me for inserting this self-serving LINK].
“And the Bible says that ‘the Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus to argue with Him about receiving tax collectors and sinners.’ Now you have got to understand the life of the Pharisees and the scribes [in order] to understand and grasp the repulsiveness of their complaint.” The pastor described the Pharisees as being enamored with their own perfection, based on their perfect obedience of the (highly augmented) laws and commandments. “They were so perfect.” Pastor Pilgrim humorously noted, “that they were ready for Translation [one must be at least a little familiar with scripture to appreciate this joke], and they prided themselves on their holiness.” The scribes were also revealed to be very self-satisfied. The pastor noted that “they thought so highly of themselves, that they even added to the law…”
The two groups of Jews that are mentioned at the beginning of Luke 15 are composed of one that is elite, astute, financially well-off, and “holier-than-thou.” They looked down their noses at group two, who were poor, uneducated, or tax-collectors (a group despised by pretty much everyone, perhaps even the stray dogs), and group one believed that group two were not even worthy of God’s grace. The “holier-than-thou” crowd tried to stay separated from those who manifested what Pastor Pilgrim significantly designated “external sins.” The smug denizens of group one exacerbated the level of their own hypocrisy by focusing solely upon the “external” sins of group two, rather “the internal sins of their own heart,” The events from Luke were applied to our own epoch, as the pastor accused church “folk” of often exhibiting an identical level of hypocrisy. “…some of us focus on the external sins of others, while we neglect to focus on the internal sins of our own hearts,” she observed.
Danielle Pilgrim now made, somewhat parenthetically, the kind of statement that those who are not willing to compromise the Word of God are not afraid to make [it is the straight from the pages of the Bible, and therefore obnoxious to whomever choses to live their life in flagrant violation of Biblical precepts}. Here is the complete context that framed the “politically incorrect” bombshell that is nested within its parameters: “Understand that the Pharisees thought they were free from sin. But the truth is that, the last time I checked my Bible, just as homosexuality is an abomination unto the Lord, the Bible says that a prideful look is also an abomination unto the Lord.” The pastor continued, saying “The last time I checked my Bible, just as it says shedding of innocent blood is an abomination unto the Lord, the Lord also says that the mouth that soweth discord [another reference to the grumblers in Luke 15, and also to their modern counterparts] is also an abomination unto the Lord. And the truth of the matter is that all sin is an offence to the Lord. And the truth is that we have all sinned, and all fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)
Here are a few lazy pastes that are relevant to Pastor Pilgrim’s first parenthetical statement: Leviticus 18:22: Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination. Leviticus 20:13: If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them. Deuteronomy 23:17: There shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel, nor a sodomite of the sons of Israel. This all seems pretty unambiguous. Many feign an inability to comprehend these simple injunctions, however, and gather themselves into groups in order to reinforce each others learning disorders. [None of these people are likely to be very pleased by the pastor’s mention of the Word of God. Neither are they particularly pleased with me, at present!]
Here is the source of the pastor’s second reference, from the King James, Proverbs 6:16-19: These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
So in the first verses of Luke, the first group of sinners (“church folk”) are upset that Jesus “had the audacity to extend grace to other sinners,” stated the pastor. “And so the ontological question we must ask today, based on the parameters of this text is ‘why does Jesus receive sinners?'” Pastor Pilgrim assured us that the answer was simple. “Whether you’re inside the church, or you’re outside the church, Jesus receives sinners because all sinners are in need of grace,” she said. God neither minimizes nor condones sin, but “He gives you grace to save you from your sin.”
The bellyaching of the Pharisees and scribes with regard to Jesus’ inclusivism was not unprecedented. Pastor Pilgrim revealed that a similar grievance had been aired by this judgmental demographic a bit earlier in the Gospels. The pastor conjectured that perhaps Jesus was getting annoyed with their complaints. But she qualified her conjecture as follows: “One of the things I admire about Jesus is that He has the skill of telling people about themselves while trying to save them. See, a lot of us don’t have that skill. ‘Church folk’ don’t have that skill, they’ll just tell you about yourself” [without the slightest concern for the souls of the targets of their vituperation].
The pastor noted that Jesus uses three parables to explain why He extends grace to sinners. The most famous of these parables is the parable of the Prodigal Son. But a knowledge of the other two parables is a necessary accessory to the full appreciation of the “keynote” parable. The first parable in the sequence is that of the “Lost Sheep,” which is related immediately after the three verses from Luke 15 that had heretofore been the principal object of Pastor Pilgrim’s exegesis. The pastor summarized the gist of this first parable for the congregation: “What man, having 100 sheep, loses one sheep and does not leave the 99 and go after that one lost sheep?” This parable was used for several reasons.
The pastor revealed the first of these reasons: “You have to realize that these Pharisees were wealthy people, and in that culture the amount of sheep you had demonstrated the amount of wealth you had.” Jesus discerned that they valued possessions over people. They would have perhaps stuck by their 99 “birds in the hand,” rather than pursue just one in that had become lost “in the bush.” Pastor Pilgrim stated that this parable indicated that God considers everyone to be worth saving [and additionally perhaps, that He was no “respecter of persons”]. “No sin will make you less worthy of His grace,” the pastor assured us.
“Here’s the second thing… that this parable teaches us about God’s grace,” the pastor said, “and I like this one the most, because it shows you the love of God… God’s grace is relentless… His grace is the relentless pursuit toward the object of His affection” [here is Romans 8:38-39: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Here is a less admirable reference, a link to the song “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” the first version recorded by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell].
An event from the pastor’s former life in the Big Apple would now serve to illustrate the concept of “relentless pursuit.” She introduced her relation of this personal anecdote by proclaiming, “God’s grace is like a relentless man who is determined to find a woman. Did you ever see a single man trying to chase a woman?”
Pastor Pilgrim mentioned that she “had a lot of New York stories” [the expression “Only In New York” comes to mind. This link is to a song from “Thoroughly Modern Millie” that apparently only Broadway performers actually care about]. Replicated below is the New York story that Pastor Pilgrim related to the congregation.
“I was in a train onetime, and I was literally being pursued by a stranger. I mean, it was the craziest thing I have ever seen, I have ever experienced.” A man comes up to Miss Pilgrim and says “Hi! My name’s Jason. What’s your name?” The future pastor thinks to herself, “yeah… alright,” resigned to be polite to the importunate stranger. She responds, “My name’s Danielle.” He then says, “Nice to meet you, Danielle. You are so beautiful!” “Well thank you, thank you,” is the young lady’s reply. Pastor Pilgrim continues her anecdote: “And then, he gets up from the seat, and then he gets down on his knees… and says, ‘Danielle, you’re the one! Will you marry me?’ I kid you not! This is a true story! He said, ‘will you marry me?’ And I looked at him and said, ‘Boy, you’re crazy. Leave me alone!’ He does not stop there. Homeboy… [the pastor, exasperated by the recollection of this exasperating encounter, paused for a second, and then continued] and he’s like, ‘Danielle, will you marry me?’ ‘Well Jason, no! I will not marry you!’ And so I get up, and I run to the next car. And, kid you not, Jason crawls from that car to the next car, on his knees, screaming ‘Danielle! Will you marry me?’ And I said ‘No!’ And then he proceeds to grab my ankles, screaming, ‘DANIELLE! WILL YOU MARRY ME?’”
The pastor ended her narration, and then proffered commentary and analysis. “Now, he was [delusional], but he was persistent. The point is that grace is so relentless, and is so persistent, that even when you’re trying to reject God, God will grab hold of you!” Pastor Pilgrim’s associates on the Berean ministerial staff both responded appreciatively to the New York story, and the lesson that had been distilled from it. It certainly was not the kind of tale that one hears in most Sabbath sermons, and could very well have been unprecedented.
“Understand that God is so relentless, that if I make my bed in Hell, He will pursue me there. God is so relentless, that if I go into the heavens, God will pursue me there. He said ‘if I make my bed in the bottom of the ocean,’ God will pursue me there. God’s grace is relentless, and He will pursue you until He gets you! That guy was crazy, by the way. He was crazy… he was crazy.”
The second of the three parables about grace was now described by the pastor: the Parable of the Lost Coin. “You know how it goes,” Pastor Pilgrim affirmed. “The parable says that… the woman has ten coins… and she is in her house, and she loses one of those coins. And the Bible says that she is determined to find that coins, and she turns on the lamps, she takes her broom, and she sweeps the entire house until she can find that coin…” She turns the house upside-down, and at long last finds the coin. “What you’ve got to understand… about the depth of this parable is that that coin was a Drachma coin, and a Drachma coin was worth about one day’s wage.” The value of the coin made its recovery urgent.
The pastor stated that this parable, like the preceding one, was descriptive of the fact that the Pharisees valued their possessions over people. Were the prima fascia meaning of the parable all that was being considered, the Pharisees would endorse an intensive search for money that “large” (a KJV style adjective). But the pastor revealed that the deeper meaning of this story is not about the fact that a coin is lost, but rather where the coin was lost. You’ll get it in a second,” she added [I could not imagine what she might be about to reveal regarding the significance of the location of the coin, and was reminded of Pastor Hernandez’s creative analysis of the tale of the paralytic whose and still be lostfriends could not get him close to Jesus. The reason? Other people were blocking the way! People just like you and me! Blocking access to Jesus! Get it?].
“You see in the first parable, the sheep was lost outside of the shepherd’s fold. But in this parable, the coin is lost inside of the master’s house, demonstrating you could be inside of God’s fold, and still be lost.”
“And the truth of the matter is, you can be in the church, and still be lost!”
“Your names can be on the books, but you can still be lost!”
“You can know the Bible cover to cover, and still be lost!” [Epistrophe, this reiteration of “still be lost.” Sorry to interrupt!]
“And the message that Jesus was trying to send to the Pharisees and scribes is that ‘you are in the house of God, but you still [are] lost.'”
Jesus was addressing Pharisees and scribes. Pastor Pilgrim was addressing the group that has inherited the mantle of these holy hypocrites, the “church folk.” Many of us were now cast adrift, so the pastor generously tossed us a life preserver:
“But the good news about this parable is… that even when we are lost inside of the house, Jesus is still so persistent and relentless to make sure that we’re found.” Pastor Pilgrim now provided the key to the parable, a blessing for those of us who are not quick-witted: “You see, the woman represented Jesus, and she was determined to find what needed to be found” [I found this plain explanation to be very helpful, and was reminded of an instance just before holy communion where Pastor Russell once helpfully informed us that “We are the Prodigal Son. The father is God.” In an example of a case of life imitating daydream, the Parable of the Prodigal Son was now unveiled by the pastor. The errant anti-hero of this tale certainly received grace, as un-tempered justice would have been better served by his having been starved to death in the Far Country.
“I’m excited by this story… It has the crux of the message that God wants to share…” The pastor offered a synopsis of parable three. “There was a father. He had two sons. The youngest son said to the father, ‘I want my inheritance,’ and the Father does not complain… he simply gives him his inheritance… the younger brother leaves, he goes to a far country and he spends all his money, he lost all he has. And while he’s there he realizes that things are bad. And now he’s broke, and now he’s sold himself as a slave, taking care of pigs. And when he came to his senses, the Bible says that the son returns home.”
[Here is a link to Ellen White’s own synopsis of this parable, taken from “Christ’s Object Lessons,” contained in a chapter entitled “Lost, and is Found.” One of the “object lessons” Pastor Pilgrim was to draw from the story is also alluded to by White on page 205 of this work: “Do not listen to the enemy’s suggestion to stay away from Christ until you have made yourself better; until you are good enough to come to God. If you wait until then, you will never come.”]
“I love this parable because it has so much beautiful imagery.” The beauty is attended by meaning. Pastor Pilgrim continued: “The first [point] that this parable is tailored to teach us about grace is that grace was based on the response of the father.” The pastor noted that the parable was not really about the son (his motives, actions, and the subsequent consequences thereof being a pretty common, at least among human beings, phenomenon), but rather about the father (whose magnanimity is, alas, all too uncommon). “It’s all about the Father’s response to the son, so understand that in Jewish culture, it was a dishonor for the child to take all of the inheritance, and spend it all before the father died,” So the Prodigal Son knew hat he would not be received joyfully. The possibility existed that he could be stoned.
“When he left home he was rich, but returning home he was poor.”
“When he left home he was a virgin, but returning home he was sexually impure.”
“When he left home he was clean, but returning he was filthy.”
[These statements not only display Anaphora in the repetition of “When he left home,” but also a second rhetorical device: Contrast.]
“Considering the fact that he took care of pigs,” hypothesized the pastor, “he most likely smelled like a pig, looked like a pig, maybe even talked like a pig.” Because the son is now “an absolute disgrace to the father,” the pastor noted, the imagery of the parable was enhanced. The diamond of his father’s grace was better highlighted when contrasted against the black velvet backdrop of the son’s malfeasances. The father viewed his hitherto “lost” son from far off as the latter returned to the “fold.” This reunion was chock full of meaning, Pastor Pilgrim remarked. “You’ve got to understand that there was deep significance in the father embracing the wayward son,” said the pastor. The lesson? “No matter what sinful condition you find yourself in, God’s grace will embrace you, wherever you are. …You can’t be too messed up for God to embrace you… Jesus embraced you while you were ‘yet a sinner'” [anther New York Story illustrating the topic of “embrace” was to shortly make its appearance].
In addition, not only did the Prodigal Son’s father’s embrace not heed the filthiness (both physical and spiritual), of his son, he also did not mind the fact that his son’s had not yet repented of his sins. “Before the son could muster up the words of repentance, the Bible says that the father had already embraced him,” the pastor stated. She offered further insight into this unconditional acceptance. “But that’s not the best part of the text, because some scholars believe that, although the son was eventually repentant, his motivation for repentance was self-preservation.” He had no money, and was starving in the far country, His motivation for going home was not an exalted one.
“Some of us, like the Prodigal Son, only come back to the father when things are going wrong.”
“Some of us only pray when things are going wrong.”
“Some of us only fast when things are going wrong, and our motive for coming back to the Father is self-preservation.”
[Pastor Pilgrim limits the typical duration of her Anaphora and Epistrophe to three or four components, a reasonable number. When preachers exceed this number, they usually completely traverse the middle path in order to furnish 10 or 12 examples. This many variations on a theme is enough to raise the level of excitement of a congregation to the point where many will be brought to their feet. It no doubt taxes the memory of the speaker. Thankfully, most preacher’s memories are much more reliable than mine!]
Here is one “further insight” of Pastor Pilgrim: “The beauty of grace is, that even when your motives are selfish, God still extends grace anyways… because grace has nothing to do with you, but has everything to do with God.” The pastor revealed that a consideration of this divine attribute is enough to bring tears to her eyes. “…I realized that as much as I had been ‘trying to be saved,’ there is no ‘trying to be saved,’ I am saved by God’s grace. And you’ve got to thankful for the fact that no matter what you do, no matter how much you hurt God, God still extends grace to save you.”
A final observation was made about the unmerited embrace that the Prodigal Son’s father “graced” him with. “The father is the one that ran to the son and initiated the embrace.” Grace was “initiated” by the father, Pastor Pilgrim noted [a less charitable explanation of this interception of the bedraggled son is floating around somewhere, but I am excluding it from the canon for today]. The pursuit of the son by the father was indicative of what can be described as the main theme of the sermon, stated at the outset, and now this “mission statement” was repeated (thereby providing the sermon with a neat set of oratorical bookends):
“Grace is not something you can chase after, but grace is what chases after you.”
“You know, when I think about God embracing that filthy son, I’m thankful that God is nothing like me, because if it were up to me there would be no grace extended.” Pastor Pilgrim cued the musicians, and then concluded her remarks with a story.
“You know, I was in a train one day (I was always in a train in New York), and on the train there was a homeless lady who was sitting across from me.” Pastor Pilgrim noted that the trains in New York are like shelters for homeless people. When you board a train, it is a lot like trespassing on their turf. “You could tell she was homeless,” the pastor continued. “She had all of her belongings with her. She smelled like urine. She looked like she had not taken a bath in three months, or six months. Her face was greasy. You could see the dirt piled up on her face, you could see that her hair was matted. And she smelled so funky.” The pastor had painted a detailed picture of the scene. She would now describe her reaction to this woebegone denizen of the New York Transit Authority.
Pastor Pilgrim confessed that her appraisal of the homeless lady was that of a human being, and not that of a saint. She was a little scornful of the marginalized wretch that shared her transport. “At one point, I dropped something on the floor. And I did not realize that I had dropped something. And I could smell her presence coming over to me, because I could smell her, and I looked up…” The pastor confessed that her thoughts were not benevolent, but rather apprehensive as to what the outcast’s intentions towards her might be. “And I looked up, and she had the thing that I had dropped upon the floor. And I was in awe that she would do that.” Everyone else on the train had also noticed the dropped object, but they were all behaving true to type: like a bunch of New Yorkers [my cat informs me that this is a mean-spirited thing for me to say. I replied that, prior to becoming her fulltime custodian, I could actually visit places like New York, so I knew what I was talking about]. The pastor was overwhelmed with gratitude: “At that point I felt compelled to give her money, and I did the Christian thing, and I probably gave her like twenty dollars.”
They both exited the train at the same station. The homeless lady is smitten with Miss Pilgrim’s generosity, and approaches the young lady in a manner that portends a possible bear-hug of gratitude. Pastor Pilgrim reminded us of the previous description she had provided of the filthy condition of the lady. “I could see the dirt on her face. I could smell the urine from far away. And she is walking toward me to hug me…” And this lady, she’s twice my size, she engulfs me in this big hug! And at that moment (I’m being really honest right now), I was not in the spirit on the Lord’s day. I was in the flesh. She is hugging me with gratitude, and I am standing there disgusted by the fact that she is defiling me. And then to make matters worse, she not only hugs me, but then she plants this big, wet, juicy kiss on my cheek!” To bystanders, this was a “Kodak moment,” and they were all blessed to able to behold saintly Miss Pilgrim as she exhibited her Christlike concern for the downtrodden. “If they only knew what was in my mind…” the pastor said.
“I then realized that, although I had been given grace, I did not know how to extend grace, because all I knew was how to give a little, money, but not how to give a little compassion when she was in need. And the word is, when God gives you grace, you’ve got to know how to extend grace. God [the pastor utilized the true hero of the last of the parables, and not the outward symbol of the terrestrial father] took the son, who was filthy, and embraced him, not caring that He was being defiled.” Pastor Pilgrim qualified this statement. “The truth is, you can’t really defile God. But:
“God doesn’t care what you look like.”
“He doesn’t care what you smell like.”
“He doesn’t care what you did last night.”
“He doesn’t care what you did this morning.”
“He says, ‘listen:
My grace is sufficient for thee and
My grace will cover thee, and
My grace will change thee!'”
The paradox of wretched sinners dressing to the nines, then attending services with a fresh coat of whitewash on their sepulchers was noted by the pastor, a final barbed commentary on the hypocrisy of those awful “church folk.” People may be deceived, but God is not. “But God says ‘I can see your inside.'” We are not inwardly resplendent. God gives us his grace, for inside us lies the bones of dead men. Pastor Pilgrim very briefly noted a recurrent heresy that Paul once refuted with the strong exclamation “God forbid.” The pastor described the deluded conception that many hold with regard to grace: “Does this mean I can I do whatever I want to do? No! No! You don’t do right to be saved. You live right because you are saved” [As previously noted, Adventists strive to keep the commandments of God. A casual observer may be deceived as to the motivation for this obedience. It is not a prerequisite for anything, nor should it be a source of pride. It is simply a post priori manifestation of grace. To quote a hack songwriter (me), “It’s just a way of saying ‘thank you’ for benefits received]. “And what grace does, is it gives you the power of God to do the things that He asks you to do, because grace calls you to repentance…” [the absolute first item on everybody’s “to do list”].
“Today, as the praise team sings its appeal song, I want you think about the grace that God extends to you. And I want you to think about His love for you, His relentless pursuit, His desire to save you…” This last sentence constituted the first “appeal” by the pastor. At around time marker 2:31:05, the praise team performed a composition by Donnie McClurkin titled “Great is Your Mercy” [link is to the composer’s rendition, released back in 2000. The basic structure of this song has been recycled by dozens of songwriters. McClurkin is from South Carolina. Just over the border, in 1981 a “Blind Boy of North Carolina,” Ronnie Milsap wrote “I Wouldn’t Have Missed It For the World,” where one may discover the opening chords of “Great is Your Mercy” withheld until time marker 0:42. Not being a musicologist, I cannot begin to guess what the primary source for this material is. It could well be some ancient character like Palestrina, for all I know].
At time marker 2:35:47 Pastor Pilgrim insinuates herself into the song in order to administer a second appeal. It may very well have been aimed at those “church folk.” The pastor issued a challenge to “those who have been in the church… some time now, but you have not yet experienced the Lord. You have not yet accepted His grace, and accepted His favor, and accepted the work He wants to do in your life.” Perhaps, like the Prodigal Son, they had been received into the church prior to manifesting, inwardly at least, repentance, and absolute surrender to God. She called for a recommitment to the Lord, through rebaptism, by these individuals. A moments passed, and then a third appeal was made. This was a plea to those who may have allowed sin to distance themselves from God, but now desired to bridge this divide, and thereby resume a Closer Walk, A prayer by Berean Lead Pastor Fredrick Russell, one encompassing several of the themes of his colleague’s preceding presentation, concluded the sermon.
Lord, I pray right now because I an such a recipient of your grace, and I’m so glad, God, that the Father came to each of us when we were living far away from you. And like that lady on the train, God, we really smell, God. We’re really dirty, and not just on the outside, God, but sometimes the dirt was so much thicker on the inside. And it describes all of our lives. There was one day, God, when we decided ‘enough is enough.’ We looked at ourselves, and we saw how far we had travelled from God, and we saw [where] we were living in and decided to repent, and we decided to surrender and come to Jesus, Lord, and we came to you. You didn’t stand there with your arms folded, looking at us, and peering at us in all of our filthiness, but with all of the stench of sin all over us, you embraced us, and you said ‘you are mine,’ and you forgave us. And instead of us kissing you, you kissed us! And God, that’s nothing but grace!
I thank you Lord this morning for those in this house right now who know that.. they need God’s grace and forgiveness, and [know] how great His mercy is. And God, this morning we receive your grace, we receive your favor, we receive your treatment to us that we don’t deserve. And God, as we exit these doors in a little while, after baptism, God, we walk out of these doors as grace-filled, grace-covered, grace-embraced people, knowing that, as we encounter others that are living their life, others that are just not where you want them to be, others that act so ugly, so terrible, and living in such bad ways, even in our homes, we extend to them grace, we extend to them favor, and it just messes their mind up, because they are so used to people treating them differently (even we have treated them differently), and now they ask the question ‘why do you treat me like this? Why do you act this way toward me on this job when you have been so cold before?’ And our response is ‘this past weekend at my church I got a greater understanding of God’s grace towards me, and I learned that those who receive grace, they turn around, and they give grace.’
And I thank you, Father, for not only letting us experience it, but allowing us to allow others to experience it through our lives. Thank you for the word this morning, God. Thank you for this RHEMA WORD today. Thank you that we simply just heard what the gospel is all about. This was it this morning. It’s no more complicated than what Pastor Pilgrim [said], the word she preached today, from you. That is the gospel! Thank you God, for letting us hear it over, and over, and over again, for our prayer is in Jesus’ name. let all of God’s people say it together…
Amen.
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