TICKLE ME ELMO
A couple of weeks ago my wife and I were walking the dog at Woodcock Dam. She told me a story about an interview she saw on T.V. with Ted Neeley. Ted Neeley, of course, played Jesus in the 1971 blockbuster movie Jesus Christ Superstar. He recently reprised that role at the Warner Theater in Erie and was later interviewed by a T.V. news reporter. The reporter asked, “Does Jesus Christ Superstar still resonate with audiences today?” Neeley replied, “Absolutely. People today are very interested in things like Jesus and the Bible. And they want to hear it at a Sesame Street level. Thus, Jesus Christ Superstar is still quite popular today.”
“People today,” Neeley said, “are very interested in things like Jesus and the Bible. And they want to hear it at a Sesame Street level.” That statement seems to coincide with what research on religion in the post-modern era says. We are in an era that some experts call the post-modern era. Typical to the post-modern era are things like a lack of respect for authority, the crumbling of once-noble institutions, and the notion that all truth is relative. In this era of confusion and relativity, what do people want from their faith? They want black and white answers. They want something in their lives they feel they can control. They want absolute certainty in what they perceive to be a treacherous and confusing and unstable world. In other words, people want the gospel at a Sesame Street level.
I remember a friend of mine in a previous church insinuating just such a thing to me. He said, “We need to hear sermons that are practical…that give us specific instruction. For example, you should do a sermon some time on how often people should come to church.” I said, “That’s easy. You should come to church every Sunday.” He said, “No, you need to be more practical than that. Maybe you should say that people can still be good Christians if they come to church, say, once every other week.” Ah, my friend wanted to hear the gospel at a Sesame Street level, but he didn’t want to be told anything with which he did not agree. He wanted a simplistic gospel, but he was only willing to hear what he wanted to hear.
It appears as though the very same thing was happening in the passage we read from the gospel according to John. It seems the religious leaders to whom Jesus was speaking wanted him to tell them a Sesame Street gospel that entailed only what they wanted to hear. The time in our passage was the festival of the Dedication, perhaps better known to us as Hanukkah. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the Temple in Jerusalem. There he was confronted by some of the leaders of the faith. “How long,” they demanded, “will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” Like I said, they wanted him to speak a Sesame Street gospel. Is it possible, however, that they were only willing to hear what they wanted to hear as well?
Before we get to Jesus’ answer, perhaps we should take a moment to consider just exactly what those religious leaders expected the Messiah to be. There were actually two schools of thought about the Messiah. One was that no one would know from where the Messiah came. The other was that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. It’s important to note that these leaders of the faith thought they knew from where Jesus came. They thought he came from Nazareth. But where was Jesus really born? You remember the line from the second chapter of Luke, do you not? “A decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be enrolled.” That ancient Roman census brought Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Bethlehem, where Jesus was actually born. But you see, the scribes and the Pharisees did not know that at the time.
In any case, a lot of people believed that no one would know from where the Messiah came. The official position of the Sanhedrin – the decision-making entity of the Jewish faith – was that the Messiah would come from Bethlehem. Since the people knew, or thought they knew, where Jesus was from, he did not qualify as the Messiah from one group. And since they thought he was from Nazareth, he failed to qualify as Messiah with the other group as well.
What kind of a Messiah were they expecting? They likely expected a Messiah who would perform miracles, as Jesus did. Yet they also expected a Messiah who would restore Israel to its former place of prominence as a world power. In other words, they sought a Messiah who would squash and expel the hated Romans. They were likely looking, at this point in time, for the political Messiah of their dreams.
Yet what kinds of things did Jesus say? A line from the Sermon on the Mount comes to mind. There Jesus said, “You have heard it said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Somehow, Jesus just didn’t fit their job description for a Messiah. They wanted their gospel at a Sesame Street level and they were only willing to hear what they wanted to hear. So they said to him, “If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
Jesus answered them very plainly. He said to them, “I have told you, but you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”
Who, exactly, are these sheep to whom Jesus referred? The sheep to whom Jesus referred, in those days, were the disciples and others who followed him. The sheep today…are us. Now sheep are not overly bright animals. Thus, to refer to ourselves as sheep necessarily implies a bit of humility, wouldn’t you say? Sheep have a herd mentality. If one sheep heads a particular way, the other sheep are going to follow. One sheep could actually lead a whole flock of sheep off a cliff. That’s why sheep have shepherds. The shepherd loves the sheep and leads them only to places that are safe. But the sheep have to hear the shepherd’s voice and heed it. They cannot go off willy-nilly on their own.
For example, imagine a sheep that sees a green pasture off in the distance near the woods. The sheep is hungry and wants to eat the grass, so that’s exactly where he heads. Yet the shepherd prevents the sheep from going to that pasture. Why? He knows there are wolves in those woods. The shepherd knows what’s best for the sheep, even if the sheep don’t realize it at the time.
Now suppose that you’re a married man or a married woman. You see an attractive member of the opposite sex – or these days, it might even be an attractive member of the same sex! God forbid that I not be politically correct! Like the sheep that wants to go off to greener pastures, you sense an overwhelming urge to pursue that other person. The shepherd knows there are wolves in the woods. The shepherd knows that if we pursue that person, we will devastate our spouses and our children, not to mention countless other people as well. Perhaps we could even go so far as to say that our level of commitment to our relationship with our spouses reflects our level of commitment to our relationship with God. Let me repeat that. Perhaps we could even go so far as to say that our level of commitment to our relationship with our spouses reflects our level of commitment to our relationship with God.
A Christian hears the shepherd’s voice and heeds the Good Shepherd. But some don’t hear that voice, do they? Some head for what they think are greener pastures anyway. They ignore the voice of the Good Shepherd and then find themselves wondering what went wrong.
Freedom of choice aside, we must be humble enough to admit that we don’t always know what’s best for us. And we must be faithful enough to trust in the fact that the Good Shepherd does. We must first hear his voice, and then we must be willing to heed it as well…even when it’s not what we want to hear.
The religious leaders to whom Jesus spoke did not hear what they wanted to hear. They had asked him to tell them plainly if he was the Messiah or if he was not. Jesus spoke of the works that he had done. Jesus clearly indicated that he was not the political Messiah they envisioned. Then Jesus concluded their conversation by saying, “I and the Father are one.” In other words, what we know to be true of Jesus we know to be true of God for Jesus Christ is the revelation of God himself. At that, they picked up rocks as if to stone him. It was a good conversation gone bad.
Sometimes Jesus just doesn’t tell us what we want to hear. Instead, Jesus tells us what we need to hear. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a difference. Our desire to hear a Sesame Street gospel aside, sometimes things are not all black and white. Sometimes we have to hear things we just don’t want to hear. And for some strange reason, that’s what God calls preachers to do. He calls us to sometimes say the things that no one wants to hear. So, here goes…
Ladies and gentlemen, I fear for the Church. I love the Church with a passion that defies description. But sometimes I feel like I’m a dying breed. Where is the zeal for Christianity these days? Where is the love for the Church anymore? Whatever happened to evangelistic ardor? Back in the 1950s, the principal means of evangelism was simply opening up the doors. All the Church had to do was open up the doors and people flocked to the Church in droves. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s not the 1950s anymore.
Years ago we had “blue laws” that seemed to aid our cause. Incidentally, do you know why they were called “blue laws?” Mainline Protestant churches collaborated in communities across the nation to pass and enforce laws that kept people from working on Sundays. They conceded that cows needed milking, but factories didn’t have to operate. Doctors could deliver babies, but mail did not have to be delivered. Connecticut, a bastion of Protestant strength a number of generations ago, passed a set of model laws for Sabbath observance. They printed it on blue paper. When the law was copied elsewhere, the “blue laws” received their name.
The blue laws included laws for Sabbath observance, but they included a few other things as well. Let me share with you some of the blue laws that were once enforced in this country:
· No one shall travel, cook, make beds, sweep house, cut hair, or shave on the Sabbath Day. (That kind of law would keep the Sabbath holy, don’t you think?)
· No woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath Day. (I’m not exactly sure what the point of that law was. And how did they enforce it?)
· Every rateable person, who refuses to pay his proportion to the support of the minister of the town, shall be fined by the court…until he or she pays the rate to the minister. (Actually, I think that sounds like a really good law!)
· Fornication shall be punished by compelling the marriage, or as the court may think proper. Adultery shall be punished by death. (My, how things have changed!)
· A wife shall be deemed good evidence against her husband. (I’m not really sure what that means.)
· Married persons must live together, or be imprisoned. (Some might say that’s one and the same. I wouldn’t say that, but some people might.)
· Every male shall have his hair cut round according to a cap. (I think we call that a “bowl cut” these days, don’t we?)
· And last but not least, no man shall court a maid in person, or by letter, without first obtaining consent of her father. (I think that sounds like a really good law, too.)
Those are some of what we call the blue laws. Obviously they didn’t work, or we’d still have them. My point is this. We once had laws – blue laws – that seemed to encourage worship attendance. We no longer have such laws. No one is under compulsion to worship God any more. It is done out of their own free will. But if all we do is complain about how loud the music is, or how we just don’t agree with the sermons sometimes, or how boring worship is, who’s going to choose it? Complaining can quickly become a cancer in a church. Attitude is everything. Where is the zeal for Christianity these days? Where is the love for the church anymore? Whatever happened to evangelistic ardor? I mean, don’t we believe that Christianity has something significant to say to our world today? Don’t we believe that our faith could truly make a difference in our community and beyond?
Since I was already on a Sesame Street train of thought this week, that got me to thinking about Tickle Me Elmo. Tickle Me Elmo was introduced to the public in 1996, becoming that year’s top fad. It was produced by Tyco Toys. At first, Tyco did not have the rights to make Sesame Street toys, but they had the rights to make Looney Tunes toys. Yet somehow, the Tickle Me Tazmanian Devil failed to catch on. When they got the rights to Sesame Street toys, Tickle Me Elmo was born. And so was what was called “Elmo-mania.”
A Wal-Mart clerk named Robert Waller was among those injured by Elmo-mania. During a midnight madness sale, a crowd of 300 stampeded down the aisle after seeing him being handed a box of the toys by another employee. Waller was pulled under, trampled, and the crotch was somehow yanked out of his brand-new blue jeans. He suffered a pulled hamstring, injuries to his back, jaw and knee, a broken rib, and a concussion.
If people can muster such zeal for a Tickle Me Elmo, why can’t they muster a little zeal for the Christian faith? Why can’t they stir up a little evangelistic ardor for the church? After all, the church has something a little more important to say than Tickle Me Elmo does. Amen.
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