When I was younger, I fell in love with a woman. This was my first love. And, of course, like all first loves do, this was to last forever. I knew it. I know what you’re thinking but I KNEW it. She was the one. She was it. I was absolutely certain that she was the one person sent to me by God and I was the one sent to her. See, I had prayed about it. I had asked for God’s special divine instructions about it. I had seen all of the signs, both obvious and subtle.

I knew what the will of God for the two of us was supposed to be. And this wasn’t just something I threw myself into at the drop of hat. No, I watched the signs and checked my gut instincts and knew this for years and years. I knew the will of God for us.

And if you were to look today, you would catch a glimpse of a beautiful wedding ring on her hand. That said, you can’t see my left hand right now but trust me when I tell you that there is no ring on my finger. Her ring didn’t come from me, even though I had bought one. It seems that all of those miraculous signs, that impeccable gut certainty, those divine instructions from the Almighty… well, they were wrong about the two of us. I thought I knew. I didn’t.

So did I miss my chance? Did I fall short of what God had planned for my life in his perfect and totally knowable will? Am I forever doomed for going off the tracks?

Throughout the history of humanity we have tried to divine the will of the gods. We sift through tea leaves. We trace the lines on our palms. We even feel for the knots on the top of our heads in hopes of discovering just what God has in store for us so that we don’t miss it and end up forever out of sync with God.

Biblically, we even see this play out. Gideon, not once but twice, laid out a fleece in order to receive a sign from God (forget the fact that he had been told all he needed know already). And it’s written that the priests and disciples cast lots to make choices sometimes.

But is this really the way to know the Will of God? Trusting in signs and feelings? We have a world full of non-Christians who look for the same signs and rely on the same feelings. Are these from Jesus telling them what to do?

Do we tell ourselves that we’ll ask the pretty girl out if she shows up for class today because that will be the sign? Do we think that our decision to move to New York City is the right one because we find an old Yankees cap in our closet? What if we are thinking of starting a small business and next Sunday we find a page full of ads for that particular business in the newspaper? Is that God telling us to go for it? Or is it God telling us that the market is already saturated and we shouldn’t start that business?

I guess we could just say that using them for the big decisions is ok. I mean, do we need to ask God which cereal to eat or what color sweater to buy? But how do we know what the big decisions will be in our lives? What if you decide to go to the mall to buy that sweater and your choice is to take the highway or the side streets? That’s a pretty small decision. Except that one way might lead you to the mall and the other way might lead you to a crippling accident. Big or small?

I’ve heard my whole life about God opening windows and shutting doors. So let’s say that in some particular instance a metaphorical door shuts on an opportunity for you. Is that God telling you that it isn’t in his will or is it God telling you to stand strong and persevere in the face of trials?

The will of God is hard to know, right? I guess we’re just outta luck.

Except we come to passages like 1 Thessalonians 5 which seems to tell us exactly what the will of God is for our lives.

“And we urge you, beloved, to admonish the idlers, encourage the faint-hearted, help the weak, be patient with all of them. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

As far as I can tell, the Will of God for you is… to act rightly. To act godly. It’s not a dot on a map of your life that you’re supposed to hit but a way of being where ever you find yourself.

1 Peter tells us that the will of God is for us to do right and to live as free people. It is God’s will that his people be devoted to him: holy, prayerful, thankful, joyful, filled with the Spirit, submissive to one another, and active in doing good. We are to lead lives worthy of the Lord.

One of my seminary profs, Dr. Paul Sands, likens it to a mother who sends her son to the store to buy milk. She flips him the keys, tells him to grab some milk and asks him to be careful on his way. She doesn’t explain how the key fits into the lock or how to work the gas and brake pedals. She doesn’t tell him which door to go in or the particular cashier to use. This is the same with the will of God and us. Here are the keys, act rightly and godly and be careful as you go in your life. Use the wisdom that God has and does give to you. James tells us that if we but ask, God will give us his wisdom, he will make our paths straight.

As followers of God, we do not have to be followers of signs or feelings. What we have to do is use the wisdom God gives us so that we may act with love, kindness, peace, long-suffering, thankfulness and prayer in each and every one of the situations in which we find ourselves.

That is the will of God for your life. Follow it.

Easter. It’s probably pretty familiar to most of us. We live in a culture that celebrates it even if the empty tomb is just given a fleeting mention so that we can get to the good stuff—the Cadbury caramel eggs.

Most of the people reading this will be fairly well acquainted with the road that brings us to this mark on the Church calendar. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday–> The plot of the chief priest–> The Last Supper and commandment of Love–> Judas’ betrayal and Jesus’ arrest–> The fleeing of the disciples and Peter’s denials–> Christ’s torture and humiliation at the hands of religious and governmental officials–> Jesus’ feeling that he had been abandoned even by his Father and his ultimate death upon a cross.

We know the story.

And we get to Easter and we talk about how it gives the world hope and how even the last enemy that is death has been defeated and what that means to a troubled and flawed creation.

But then I start to wonder about the other enemies; the ones that aren’t death. What about the enemies that guilt and pride and shame. And my attention turns from the global impact of the resurrection to the individual impact. My attention turns to Peter.

Imagine what it must have been like for Peter right before the empty tomb was discovered. Here was a man whose entire life was brought high and then dashed upon the rocks, broken and mangled. He was a follower of a man he believed would save his people only to watch that man be struck and beaten and killed. He was a man who had great pride in himself and his strength but when the time came, he fled to save his own butt. He was a deeply religious man who would not only deny knowing Christ, he cursed out the people accusing him of it. I imagine the guilt Peter laid on his own shoulders was massive and almost unbearable. So he went to do the only thing he knew he was really good at; he went fishing. And he even failed at that.

Now picture the Peter who has just realized that his leader, his Messiah, his God was alive and cooking them breakfast. I want to think that this would fill Peter with happiness but I don’t think it did.

In Paradise Lost, Milton wrote “Abashed the Devil stood and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely; saw, and pined His loss.”

I think this is what it was like for the fisherman that day. Abashed Peter stood and felt how awful goodness is. What guilt and shame he must have piled on his back not in spite of being near the risen Lord but because of it. When we feel our lowest, the last thing we want is to be confronted with good. How could Peter ever atone to this great King for his sins, for his mistakes, for his betrayal. At least Judas had the courage to hang himself.

And so Jesus calls his disciple over to him to sit. And I’m sure Peter went with a heart full of trepidation and sorrow, the likes of which most of us can’t even imagine. And he is asked a question…”Peter, do you love me?” Yes, he says, probably after trying to collect himself. “Peter, do you love me?” Yeah, of course I do, says the one who fled. “Peter, do you love me?” Dang it, you know that I do, says the denier. “Then feed my sheep”.

And though Easter might have changed the world a little bit earlier, it is right here that Easter changes Peter. Peter, who is holding onto all his self-loathing and shame and guilt, is told that Christ, in loving each other, has taken all that away and has work for Peter to do. And though the rest of the world knew redemption when the stone was rolled away, it is here that Peter knows redemption and it has nothing to do with his failings or his righteousness. It has everything to do with who he is to God.

Easter changed the world but it also changed a person. As with Peter, the resurrection of Christ changes each of us, it changes His church. And as it changes his church, it changes the world. In large and small ways.

That is Easter.

When I was touring Italy with my family, I absolutely loved the food we found. The pasta was great and to this day, the best seafood I have ever tasted was in Venice. But what bothered me was the bread. They would place it on the table and it looked wonderful and smelled heavenly but as soon as I took a bite, I wanted to spit it out. It tasted like dirt. It was gross. What I’m trying to get across is that I didn’t like it one bit.

They didn’t put any salt in their bread. I have complained for years about that. My mom finally discovered that they had a salt shortage once and used the salt on their meats instead of in their bread and have been making bread without it ever since. So I get it but I do not like it.

See, salt is an amazing rock. It always has been. We know that around 6000BC the Chinese were harvesting salt. Ever heard the term “worth his salt”— salt was so valuable that sometimes Roman soldiers were paid in salt. Taxes on salt were used to regulate economies. Salt was also destructive. When Rome defeated the city of Carthage, for the third and final time, they leveled the city and sowed the ground with salt so that nothing would ever be able to grow there again.

Throughout history, the rising and falling of nations has involved salt.

The idea of the drastic importance of salt might be something foreign to us but it goes back a long way. In fact, in the book of Numbers, the writer tells us that God’s covenant with his people was a “covenant of salt”. When a traveler would happen upon a Bedouin, the chief of the tribe would be handed the travelers precious goods and he would hand over salt to signify that he was no responsible for the safety and well-being of the traveler. When Egyptian President Sadat first met with Israel Prime Minister Begin, they exchanged bread and salt as a sign of covenant and good faith.

And it’s in this setting that we come to the Sermon on the Mount and find that Jesus calls us the salt of the earth. Why would he do that?

It’s interesting to see that salt can’t be eaten alone. Ever taken a big spoonful of salt? Not pleasant. Salt is a flavor enhancer. In the right proportion, it makes things better. Anyone who has lived in the north also knows what salt will do to an icy road. It will melt away the danger and make it safer. And salt can change a thing into something else. It can turn a cucumber into a pickle and raw meat into edible jerky.

Salt is amazing. Salt is important.

I heard once something I don’t ever want to forget—“ If the meat is rotten, it’s not the fault of the meat for spoiling, it’s the fault of the salt for not preserving it.”

I think this is the role of the Church. I think this is what Christ was telling us when he called us salt. We are not called to be totally separate from this world but to show that the danger has been melted away, to help transform it from one thing into another.

But we should also look for signs that our salt has lost its flavor. And when we find that, we shouldn’t be afraid to throw it out and re-salt ourselves. And we should never let our salt be destructive. It should never be used to turned people away from God to such an extent that it would be almost impossible for them to let the love of God regrow in their field.

Be salt. Be the salt of the earth.

There are moments that stand out in history. For some it’s fighting in a momentous battle. For others it’s the birth of a child. For me, it’s my sister yelling at me in the food court of a mall. For the Jews, it’s the Exodus from Egypt.

After such a long time in the good graces of the ruling Pharaohs, the Israelite people found themselves being enslaved by one who didn’t remember their importance.

Crushed under heel and stung by whips, their cries went up and the Lord heard them. Moses was sent to bring a message of release to the rulers of Egypt and when they turned from mercy, they suffered. Plague after plague, they set their hearts against freedom and grace until only one method was left untried.

Sacrifice an animal to the Lord and place the blood upon the doorposts of your houses, the Israelites were told. The price for not doing this would be great. The Angel of the Lord would visit Egypt and all who did not have this sign would find their firstborn sons put to death. But if you had followed the instructions of the Lord, your house would be passed over.

As so it was.

And for centuries, the Jewish people, through homecoming and exile and back again, spent time every year remembering the night when God spared them.

Being a Israelite who kept the laws and traditions of his people, Jesus found himself celebrating the Passover with his disciples.  It’s actually his partaking of these festivals that we know he spent three years in his ministry because the Gospel of John mentions three Passovers.

Jesus knew the Passover was about sacrifice. He knew the stories, had read the scriptures, had practiced them with his family and friends.

This last supper would be no different. It would be about sacrifice. Not of a common animal but of the Son of God. It was to be about flesh being torn and blood being spilt so that the Lord would look upon those whom it covers and pass over them in spite of their sins.

The Son of God would become the sacrificial lamb.

His blood would cover the doorposts and defeat death once and forever.

The importance of the meal that would come to be known as the Last Supper would be known to all Christians throughout the world in all of history. Remembering what Christ did was celebrated by the early Church and if we know anything about people, we know that it didn’t take long for the practice to become corrupted by pride.

Paul even feels the need to harshly instruct the church at Corinth because they had lost the meaning of the supper.

When I was young, I was scared of this passage of scripture. I was told that if I didn’t expunge every bit of sin from myself before I took the bread and juice (we were Baptist) then God would be angry with me and I would find myself in a heap of trouble.

But as I have read Paul’s words and thought on his message, I think he was trying to tell us that we had to make ourselves perfect but that we had to remember that we are no better or worse than those around us. That we have to put away pride and ego.

While some denominations have some serious disagreements about what communion entails, I would hope that we would view it as a uniting bond. A bond that literally lets us have a physical representation of our communion with God, with each other and with ourselves.

I hope that we never take for granted the fact that as often as we eat this bread and drink this cup we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again.