The Whole Gospel and Nothing But The Gospel

Recently I have saturated my mind with some very old sermons written by some awesome gentlemen. They are probably all part of that "great cloud of witnesses" now. VERY old sermons. They proclaim the gospel in ways that I never hear today. "Sin" is a well worn word on their lips. The cross is the central theme of every proclamation. And it's not a "mamby pamby" Christianity. It's an overcoming, conquering faith that inspires belief and hope.

It's not a partial gospel either. It is as if in a 20 minute sermon, the whole gospel and nothing but the gospel rings forth, like a bell sounding a warning, yet bells of celebration. I read a particular sermon from John 3, Nicodemus' encounter with Jesus. I got all "christmasy". No, really! I did.

Seems as a christian, when someone mentions John 3:16, there's an inner moan; a heart betrayal that says it's so simple, it's trite. But here is the thing: it's in the context of verse 10. "Jesus answered and said to him, 'Are you the teacher of Israel and do not understand these things?'" We're so smart, we're stupid. Our so-called maturity blinds us to the fullness of the gospel.

I read through the chapter and thought about the sermon. There's an acknowledgement of God being greater than us.
There's an ultimatum: No kingdom unless you are born again.
And not just any kind of birth, but birth in the Spirit.
Listen to this cool statement (this is why I got all christmasy). "No one has ascended into heaven, but He who descended from heaven: the Son of Man." And so the King of all Kings condescends to become a baby. As sure as His birth, was His death. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up." Why? LOVE. For God so loved... And as sure as His birth and His death, was His ascension. A resurrection of power that shook hell and opened heaven for those who believe. And a glorious ascension back to the right hand of the Father.

So for those who believe, the Holy Spirit condescends to live in us, the residence of the gospel of His grace. I find irony in Nicodemus' name. As the wise men who came to Jesus at his birth with gifts of frankincense and myrrh, we see the wise man Nicodemus bringing myrrh in preparation for Jesus' burial. Kind of hint that Nicodemus believed. Truly jolly ole Saint Nic. :)


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Christmas Poem

With childlike faith I scribbled my note

and sealed it with a kiss.

All red and green with

wishes and dreams,

I mailed to Santa my list.

Each Christmas came and with it gifts,

some sought and some not.

Tin doll house,

a “Timey Tell” doll,

some loved;  some that time forgot.

With each breath held and gift opened

this secret hope did yearn:

that I had been

good enough to get

the gifts I’d tried to earn.

Not just Santa I wanted to please,

but  the dad behind the beard.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

my sweetest prize from year to year.

With childlike faith I received a note,

a book signed in love.

All red and black,

truth front to back,

a promise from Father above.

And on that day He came with gifts

that by His Son’s blood He’d bought.

Garments of salvation,

faith, fruit, and life,

love and plans beyond my thought.

These gifts He freely gave to me,

and yet I still did yearn

to be the child

good enough to keep

these gifts I never could earn.

I sweated and worked hard to please

the Presence behind the present.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

through works of flesh and conscience.

By works and strife – myself betrayed,

for I could not get it right.

In frustrated angst,

in pride I tried

to tame myself by self’s might.

And then like Christmas morn’ again,

with childlike faith could see

I held a beautiful, long unopened  gift

now revealed in me:  freedom’s  key.

For in the Gift of God’s sweet Son

comes the fullness of His grace

to fill me up,

to set me free

to walk in God’s rest of faith.

Joy spilling forth from deep within,

this Gift in me aptly fit

to be my strength,

my crown, my all,

all year long my Christmas Spirit.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy