John 16:16-33
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.
I always find the beginning of the last part of today's gospel reading to be a little funny. The disciples, after years of misunderstanding and messing things up, suddenly declare, "Oh! Now we get it!" I can just see Jesus, his hand on his forehead, with more than a hint a doubt in his voice "Do you now believe?" Of course, the disciples don't really get it at this point, even if they think they do. They don't really understand what exact hour it is that has indeed come, what the next few days exactly have in store for them. And Jesus knows it. He knows that the hour will be to much for them, that it will scatter them like dry leaves in the wind. He knows that for Himself, one of the greatest torments of the days to come will be abandonment, since it is only in utter isolation that he can achieve the work set before Him. Yet, Jesus' concern is for them.
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace.
Jesus, in the very moments before His sorrowful Passion, wants to give His disciples, who will very soon abandon Him, peace. Peace, is after all what Jesus has come to establish. His life, death and resurrection are really at root about breaking the hold of chaos and establishing God's peace, his great Shalom, in the cosmos.
Peace was a loaded word in those days, as it is today. Peace has been promised by many, not least of which the Romans. Whole peoples, entire civilizations, had submitted to Roman rule because of the promise of the pax romana, the Roman Peace, the stability which came from being part of the world's only great power. The logic was that if everyone only came under the Roman umbrella, then war would cease. If there was only one power, there would be no one to fight with. Of course we know that that was a thinly veiled lie. The solution to all the world's problems could never be so simple. Today we hear similar lies. If only people were educated enough, healthy enough, rich enough, free enough then hate and strife would end. Since the beginning we've been fooled into believing that the great peace we all desire is just beyond our reach, that there is only one thing more needed to achieve it. Once that thing was piece of fruit, once it was a Roman world, today it seems to be a different thing everyday. The lie however is the same.
The truth is that peace, true and lasting peace, can come from nowhere but God, and no one offers God's true and lasting peace except Jesus.
We who have that peace can take heart, can be of good cheer, even while the tribulation rages around us as it has since Jesus first spoke these words. Because our peace is the invincible peace, the unassailable peace, the peace of Jesus, who has overcome the world.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
Friday, the second week of Easter
I Peter 3:13-4:6
Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness' sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.
You would have to be completely disconnected from the world to not have realized by now that we are living in a contentious season in American life. The whole population seems to be engaged in one fight or another, to be vigorously defending some stance or another, and it only promises to get worse.
What is the Christian's place in all of this? For many this is a no-brainer, but for different reasons. There are those who feel like it is the absolute duty of Christians to be deeply engaged in the political process, to lobby and campaign and protest, to vehemently fight to sustain the so-called "Christian values of the Founding Fathers." For others, political involvement is not the purview of Christians at all. There are those who would find even a Christian voting to be at best a waste of time and at worst inappropriate involvement in the sinful world's business.
Well, it seems to me that, as with most things, the right answer is somewhere in between. Like all things, the Christian's involvement in politics is a matter for discernment. St. Peter gives us a good framework to think about how we should be involved in society.
We should be zealous for what is good. We should lend our support to good causes and raise our voices against evil. There are issues worth fighting for. We are called as Christians to defend the defenseless, to bind up the broken, to set free the captive, and if political action is required to do those things then we should engage in it. However, It takes serious discernment to decide what those issues are. Abortion, for instance, is certainly one. Tax reform, however, probably isn't. Where do things like same-sex marriage, health care reform, jobs, war, education, and entitlements fall?
What we must realize, however, is that our job is not to police the morality of the population. We cannot expect to stop sinners from sinning by enacting laws. We live in a society which at best only ever had a Christian veneer, which may have in the past agreed to follow a standard of morality that was Christian-like, but not one that was ever a society that as a whole was dedicated to Jesus Christ. (I hate to burst bubbles, but the Founding Father's were not Christians. If you want proof look into Thomas Jefferson's version of the New Testament.) Now, to make matters worse, even that standard of morality has been thoroughly abandoned. Yet, we make a serious mistake when we use our energies to try to claw our way back into that Christian veneer. We should not expect to be able to make our society truly Christian. Read the Gospel for today, what we should expect is to be hated and ill treated.
We cannot make the world or our society Christian, we can however with God's help change people's hearts. Our earliest Christian ancestors transformed the violently pagan Roman world (one much like our own) not with rallies or revolts or elections or legislation, but by bearing witness with gentleness and respect, even on the floor of the Colosseum. They never strove to institute their beliefs or morality by gaining political power, but rather fearlessly asserted the power of the Risen Christ which was theirs, and which overcomes the world and death itself and thereby they won countless millions.
Our job is not to hold signs or wear buttons or shout slogans, it is to be zealous for what is good, to be ready to make defense for our hope and to suffer for righteousness, to do all things with the gentleness and respect that we see in Christ, and to await the day when Our Lord will indeed make all things new, when every knee will indeed bow and every tongue indeed confess.
Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness' sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect, having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.
You would have to be completely disconnected from the world to not have realized by now that we are living in a contentious season in American life. The whole population seems to be engaged in one fight or another, to be vigorously defending some stance or another, and it only promises to get worse.
What is the Christian's place in all of this? For many this is a no-brainer, but for different reasons. There are those who feel like it is the absolute duty of Christians to be deeply engaged in the political process, to lobby and campaign and protest, to vehemently fight to sustain the so-called "Christian values of the Founding Fathers." For others, political involvement is not the purview of Christians at all. There are those who would find even a Christian voting to be at best a waste of time and at worst inappropriate involvement in the sinful world's business.
Well, it seems to me that, as with most things, the right answer is somewhere in between. Like all things, the Christian's involvement in politics is a matter for discernment. St. Peter gives us a good framework to think about how we should be involved in society.
We should be zealous for what is good. We should lend our support to good causes and raise our voices against evil. There are issues worth fighting for. We are called as Christians to defend the defenseless, to bind up the broken, to set free the captive, and if political action is required to do those things then we should engage in it. However, It takes serious discernment to decide what those issues are. Abortion, for instance, is certainly one. Tax reform, however, probably isn't. Where do things like same-sex marriage, health care reform, jobs, war, education, and entitlements fall?
What we must realize, however, is that our job is not to police the morality of the population. We cannot expect to stop sinners from sinning by enacting laws. We live in a society which at best only ever had a Christian veneer, which may have in the past agreed to follow a standard of morality that was Christian-like, but not one that was ever a society that as a whole was dedicated to Jesus Christ. (I hate to burst bubbles, but the Founding Father's were not Christians. If you want proof look into Thomas Jefferson's version of the New Testament.) Now, to make matters worse, even that standard of morality has been thoroughly abandoned. Yet, we make a serious mistake when we use our energies to try to claw our way back into that Christian veneer. We should not expect to be able to make our society truly Christian. Read the Gospel for today, what we should expect is to be hated and ill treated.
We cannot make the world or our society Christian, we can however with God's help change people's hearts. Our earliest Christian ancestors transformed the violently pagan Roman world (one much like our own) not with rallies or revolts or elections or legislation, but by bearing witness with gentleness and respect, even on the floor of the Colosseum. They never strove to institute their beliefs or morality by gaining political power, but rather fearlessly asserted the power of the Risen Christ which was theirs, and which overcomes the world and death itself and thereby they won countless millions.
Our job is not to hold signs or wear buttons or shout slogans, it is to be zealous for what is good, to be ready to make defense for our hope and to suffer for righteousness, to do all things with the gentleness and respect that we see in Christ, and to await the day when Our Lord will indeed make all things new, when every knee will indeed bow and every tongue indeed confess.
Thursday, the second week of Easter
John 15:12-27
I have called you friends...
Can we really grasp what that means? What it means to be a friend of Jesus? I don't think we really can, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. We spend a lot of time calling ourselves Christ's humble servants, as rightly we should, but so little time contemplating and reveling in the fact the we are also His friends, and not just any friends, but ones He loved with the greatest love by giving His life for us.
It is probably easier for us to imagine ourselves as servants, beloved and well-treated servants, but servants nonetheless. There is an equality inherent in friendship that we just can't imagine sharing with Jesus. We are after all just human beings and miserable sinners at that. And don't get me wrong, we are miserable sinners, and will never attain to any kind of equality with the Son of God. There are also plenty of times in the Scripture where we are also called the slaves and sheep. The Master, may love and care for his slaves, the Shepherd may give his life for the sheep, but the Master and the slave cannot be friends, no more than the Shepherd and the sheep. Yet, Christ calls us friends.
Our friendship with Christ says nothing about our worthiness or fitness but everything about Christ's love and mercy. We can be his friends because he condescends to us, comes to us, takes on our humanity. He is the Master who truly befriends the slave, the Shepherd who calls his sheep into a relationship. We can be his friends only because he declares it to be so.
How this fact should change our lives! We are friends of Jesus, friends of Him through whom all things were created and in whom all things hold together. Now this friend of ours surely deserves our worship and adoration, but he is also one with whom we have a relationship. He laughs with us in our delight, and holds us in our sorrow. He provides for us in need and protects us in danger, and shares with us in plenty and rests with us in safety. We share every moment of our lives with Him. He is closer to us than any human friend. There is nothing which can come between us, or cause him to reject us. Nothing! He is our friend, the best one we'll ever have.
Friendship with Jesus does change us, however. Such a relationship cannot leave us the same! The friends of Jesus obey his commandments, we bear fruit for Him, we love His other friends like He loves us. There is also a price to pay. The friends of Jesus are hated by the world, because Jesus is hated by the world. Yet, what a small price to pay this is however, for such a gift! And besides, Jesus does not leave us alone in the hateful world, but sends us the Helper, the Holy Spirit, to sustain us.
What a difference this is from every other system of belief in the world. All the false gods of the nations (and by this I mean everything from the traditional notion of god to the "universe" of the New Agers or even the riches, comfort and pleasure worshiped by the materialist and hedonist) may be creator, they may be sustainer or guide or even bringer of some prosperity or happiness, but they are never friend. The gods of the nations are not dedicated to their devotees, they may be tolerant of them, or impressed by them, but they do not love them unconditionally. No one, other than the Christian, can know God as friend, can live in the surety of his love. No one, other than the Christian, even knows that such a relationship is possible.
For us, this should be the greatest truth and joy of our lives, and the greatest reason to share our Friend Jesus with those who do not know the abundance of life with Him.
I have called you friends...
Can we really grasp what that means? What it means to be a friend of Jesus? I don't think we really can, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. We spend a lot of time calling ourselves Christ's humble servants, as rightly we should, but so little time contemplating and reveling in the fact the we are also His friends, and not just any friends, but ones He loved with the greatest love by giving His life for us.
It is probably easier for us to imagine ourselves as servants, beloved and well-treated servants, but servants nonetheless. There is an equality inherent in friendship that we just can't imagine sharing with Jesus. We are after all just human beings and miserable sinners at that. And don't get me wrong, we are miserable sinners, and will never attain to any kind of equality with the Son of God. There are also plenty of times in the Scripture where we are also called the slaves and sheep. The Master, may love and care for his slaves, the Shepherd may give his life for the sheep, but the Master and the slave cannot be friends, no more than the Shepherd and the sheep. Yet, Christ calls us friends.
Our friendship with Christ says nothing about our worthiness or fitness but everything about Christ's love and mercy. We can be his friends because he condescends to us, comes to us, takes on our humanity. He is the Master who truly befriends the slave, the Shepherd who calls his sheep into a relationship. We can be his friends only because he declares it to be so.
How this fact should change our lives! We are friends of Jesus, friends of Him through whom all things were created and in whom all things hold together. Now this friend of ours surely deserves our worship and adoration, but he is also one with whom we have a relationship. He laughs with us in our delight, and holds us in our sorrow. He provides for us in need and protects us in danger, and shares with us in plenty and rests with us in safety. We share every moment of our lives with Him. He is closer to us than any human friend. There is nothing which can come between us, or cause him to reject us. Nothing! He is our friend, the best one we'll ever have.
Friendship with Jesus does change us, however. Such a relationship cannot leave us the same! The friends of Jesus obey his commandments, we bear fruit for Him, we love His other friends like He loves us. There is also a price to pay. The friends of Jesus are hated by the world, because Jesus is hated by the world. Yet, what a small price to pay this is however, for such a gift! And besides, Jesus does not leave us alone in the hateful world, but sends us the Helper, the Holy Spirit, to sustain us.
What a difference this is from every other system of belief in the world. All the false gods of the nations (and by this I mean everything from the traditional notion of god to the "universe" of the New Agers or even the riches, comfort and pleasure worshiped by the materialist and hedonist) may be creator, they may be sustainer or guide or even bringer of some prosperity or happiness, but they are never friend. The gods of the nations are not dedicated to their devotees, they may be tolerant of them, or impressed by them, but they do not love them unconditionally. No one, other than the Christian, can know God as friend, can live in the surety of his love. No one, other than the Christian, even knows that such a relationship is possible.
For us, this should be the greatest truth and joy of our lives, and the greatest reason to share our Friend Jesus with those who do not know the abundance of life with Him.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Wednesday, the second week of Easter
Exodus 15:22-16:10
They went three days...
Three days! Three days after the Lord triumphed gloriously! Three days after they saw the glory of Egypt drowned in the sea! Three days and they were thirsty and they grumbled.
Some times the people of Israel are unbelievable. Were they really so hard hearted that after only three days they began to doubt God? Could they really have believed that the one who parted the sea for them would abandon them to thirst after only three days?
Then God makes the water sweet. Then he promises to be their healer. Then he brings them to Elim with its twelve springs and seventy palms.
Then on the fifteenth day of the second month, they grumble again. They complain that God did not kill them in Egypt. They whine that they have to starve to death, when they could have died in Egypt with plenty to eat.
They never seem to learn the lesson that God will provide. There seems to be nothing that God can do to convince them that He loves them and will care for them, to convince them that they are indeed His people. Not the plagues, not the freedom, not the parting of the sea, not the destruction of the Egyptians, not the cloud or the fire, not the sweet water, not the promises, not the beautiful oasis. Nothing seems to get it into their thick skulls, that God will care for them. As soon as they're hungry, they assume God will let them starve.
We wag our heads at them. What fools they were!
Would we really have done much differently though? Are we really any better? Don't we doubt God's love every time it gets tough for us too? Every time we worry about the future, we add our voices to the chorus of Israelite grumbling. No matter what God does for us, no matter how many times He proves Himself, we doubt and worry and fret over the smallest things. We act as if our financial woe, or relationship problem or health concern is all of a sudden an insurmountable task for Him who parted the sea, for Him who rose victorious from the grave. In a way, we are worse than the Israelites, for we have Christ, we know the extreme lengths that God will go to out of his love for us. We have the Spirit, God lives with in us and we within Him, and still we worry.
It took them three days to forget and to grumble. Sometimes I am blessed if I make it three hours between a blessing and the next moment of worry. What a fool I am! What fools we all are, grumbling against the Lord.
They went three days...
Three days! Three days after the Lord triumphed gloriously! Three days after they saw the glory of Egypt drowned in the sea! Three days and they were thirsty and they grumbled.
Some times the people of Israel are unbelievable. Were they really so hard hearted that after only three days they began to doubt God? Could they really have believed that the one who parted the sea for them would abandon them to thirst after only three days?
Then God makes the water sweet. Then he promises to be their healer. Then he brings them to Elim with its twelve springs and seventy palms.
Then on the fifteenth day of the second month, they grumble again. They complain that God did not kill them in Egypt. They whine that they have to starve to death, when they could have died in Egypt with plenty to eat.
They never seem to learn the lesson that God will provide. There seems to be nothing that God can do to convince them that He loves them and will care for them, to convince them that they are indeed His people. Not the plagues, not the freedom, not the parting of the sea, not the destruction of the Egyptians, not the cloud or the fire, not the sweet water, not the promises, not the beautiful oasis. Nothing seems to get it into their thick skulls, that God will care for them. As soon as they're hungry, they assume God will let them starve.
We wag our heads at them. What fools they were!
Would we really have done much differently though? Are we really any better? Don't we doubt God's love every time it gets tough for us too? Every time we worry about the future, we add our voices to the chorus of Israelite grumbling. No matter what God does for us, no matter how many times He proves Himself, we doubt and worry and fret over the smallest things. We act as if our financial woe, or relationship problem or health concern is all of a sudden an insurmountable task for Him who parted the sea, for Him who rose victorious from the grave. In a way, we are worse than the Israelites, for we have Christ, we know the extreme lengths that God will go to out of his love for us. We have the Spirit, God lives with in us and we within Him, and still we worry.
It took them three days to forget and to grumble. Sometimes I am blessed if I make it three hours between a blessing and the next moment of worry. What a fool I am! What fools we all are, grumbling against the Lord.
Tuesday, the second week of Easter
Exodus 15
I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and its rider he has thrown into the sea.
Our existence as Christian is sometimes confusing. We say we are saved from sin and death, and yet we still sin and die. We say that Christ has triumphed, yet the battle still seems to rage. We say we live in God's presence, but we are still so bound to this world. This is the "already-and-not-yet" of the Christian life. It is why all these statements are indeed true. It is how we were saved at the cross, are being saved today, and yet will be saved on the last day. It is how we can seem to sit on both sides of the Red Sea, how we can say that "God will fight for us, we need only to keep still" and yet confidently declare already that "God has triumphed gloriously."
Now this may seem at first like a topic for philosophers and theologians to debate in ivory towers, but in reality it has great implications on our every day lives. What wonderful comfort it is to be able to know, when caught between Pharaoh and the sea that the great work is already accomplished, our enemies already defeated, that we are indeed victorious even while the battle rages. It is for this reason, the fact that we are already seated in the heavenlies with Christ, already a party to His Easter triumph, that we can face all conflicts no matter how hopeless.
In our life there should be, can be, no hopelessness, because even though we can't always see it, the victory is won, the issue is decided, God has triumphed gloriously, the horse and its rider have been cast into the sea!
I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and its rider he has thrown into the sea.
Our existence as Christian is sometimes confusing. We say we are saved from sin and death, and yet we still sin and die. We say that Christ has triumphed, yet the battle still seems to rage. We say we live in God's presence, but we are still so bound to this world. This is the "already-and-not-yet" of the Christian life. It is why all these statements are indeed true. It is how we were saved at the cross, are being saved today, and yet will be saved on the last day. It is how we can seem to sit on both sides of the Red Sea, how we can say that "God will fight for us, we need only to keep still" and yet confidently declare already that "God has triumphed gloriously."
Now this may seem at first like a topic for philosophers and theologians to debate in ivory towers, but in reality it has great implications on our every day lives. What wonderful comfort it is to be able to know, when caught between Pharaoh and the sea that the great work is already accomplished, our enemies already defeated, that we are indeed victorious even while the battle rages. It is for this reason, the fact that we are already seated in the heavenlies with Christ, already a party to His Easter triumph, that we can face all conflicts no matter how hopeless.
In our life there should be, can be, no hopelessness, because even though we can't always see it, the victory is won, the issue is decided, God has triumphed gloriously, the horse and its rider have been cast into the sea!
Monday, the second week of Easter
Exodus 14
The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be still.
We hear a lot about the Red Sea in Eastertide. The Exodus event, Israel's liberation from slavery in Egypt, is the great foreshadowing in history of the even greater liberation from slavery to sin and death which we have in Jesus Christ.
Christ, our Passover, has been sacrificed for us. We have been spared the destruction which we deserved. Yet, our former enslavers, sin and death, like Pharaoh before them, still pursue us. In the Resurrection Christ opens the way of escape for us and leads us through. We, however, often find ourselves, there on the shore of the sea with our enemies bearing down on us. Yet, like Israel, the way of escape lies before us in Jesus and the life he offers. We would see this and embrace it more often if only we did not allow our fears to blind and distract us.
All the fights of our lives are the Lord's if we are His and surrendered to Him. We need only to be still. We need only to trust him, all him to reign in our lives and he will triumph gloriously on our behalf.
How often, however, do we, in our fear, try to take over the situation? How often do we try to plan and scheme our way out of trouble instead of letting God carry us through it? How often do we allow ourselves to think nostalgically of our days in Egypt and the false security they offered?
The Egyptians we see today, we will never see again. The Lord will fight for us. We need only to be still.
The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be still.
We hear a lot about the Red Sea in Eastertide. The Exodus event, Israel's liberation from slavery in Egypt, is the great foreshadowing in history of the even greater liberation from slavery to sin and death which we have in Jesus Christ.
Christ, our Passover, has been sacrificed for us. We have been spared the destruction which we deserved. Yet, our former enslavers, sin and death, like Pharaoh before them, still pursue us. In the Resurrection Christ opens the way of escape for us and leads us through. We, however, often find ourselves, there on the shore of the sea with our enemies bearing down on us. Yet, like Israel, the way of escape lies before us in Jesus and the life he offers. We would see this and embrace it more often if only we did not allow our fears to blind and distract us.
All the fights of our lives are the Lord's if we are His and surrendered to Him. We need only to be still. We need only to trust him, all him to reign in our lives and he will triumph gloriously on our behalf.
How often, however, do we, in our fear, try to take over the situation? How often do we try to plan and scheme our way out of trouble instead of letting God carry us through it? How often do we allow ourselves to think nostalgically of our days in Egypt and the false security they offered?
The Egyptians we see today, we will never see again. The Lord will fight for us. We need only to be still.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The Second Sunday in Easter
I John 1:1-7
This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light
by Kathleen Thomerson
I want to walk as a child of the light;
I want to follow Jesus.
God set the stars to give light to the world;
the star of my life is Jesus.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
I want to see the brightness of God;
I want to look at Jesus.
Clear Sun of righteousness, shine on my path,
and show me the way to the Father.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
I’m looking for the coming of Christ;
I want to be with Jesus.
When we have run with patience the race,
we shall know the joy of Jesus.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.
I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light
by Kathleen Thomerson
I want to walk as a child of the light;
I want to follow Jesus.
God set the stars to give light to the world;
the star of my life is Jesus.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
I want to see the brightness of God;
I want to look at Jesus.
Clear Sun of righteousness, shine on my path,
and show me the way to the Father.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
I’m looking for the coming of Christ;
I want to be with Jesus.
When we have run with patience the race,
we shall know the joy of Jesus.
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
Saturday in Easter Week
Mark 12:18-27
He is not God of the dead, but of the living...
The Saducees were a Jewish sect distinct from the Pharisees, Jesus' usual adversaries, who were opposed to both Jesus and the Pharisees. The main distinctive belief of the Saducees was that they did not believe in any sort of resurrection.
Their question to Jesus then, about the unfortunate woman with the seven dead husbands, is asked quite surreptitiously. They are trying to use a technicality of the law to show that Jesus', as well as the Pharisee's, preaching on the resurrection is false. Jesus of course, does not fall for their little trick, and it is the Saducees who end up looking foolish. Not only is Jesus able to answer their question and prove their understanding of marriage to be in error, but he is also quick to prove the resurrection as well. The fact the God was the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was fundamental to the Jewish identity, so Jesus is playing a big card here. Essentially he is saying that to claim that there is no life beyond this one is to fundamentally misunderstand who God is. If God is indeed the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob then it follows that the Patriarchs, though their lives on earth were centuries before, must in some way still live, because God is not the God of the dead.
Today, there are many "Saducees" in the church, those who would dismiss the idea of the resurrection, who would want to preach Jesus as an idea, an ethic, a spiritual inspiration, instead of a risen and living Savior. They say things like this:
"The story of Jesus' bodily resurrection is, at best, conjectural; that the resurrection accounts in the four Gospels are contradictory and confusing... the significance of Easter is not that Jesus returned to actual life but that even death itself could not end the power of his presence in the lives of the faithful."
The Rt. Rev. John Chane, Bishop of Washington, D.C., Easter sermon in 2002
Like the Saducees of old, this is to fundamentally misunderstand God. It is to promote the worship of a false god.
Their god is god of the dead which really is fitting for the culture we live in.
Our God is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which means that our Lord Jesus Christ lives, for our God is the God of the living and not the dead.
He is not God of the dead, but of the living...
The Saducees were a Jewish sect distinct from the Pharisees, Jesus' usual adversaries, who were opposed to both Jesus and the Pharisees. The main distinctive belief of the Saducees was that they did not believe in any sort of resurrection.
Their question to Jesus then, about the unfortunate woman with the seven dead husbands, is asked quite surreptitiously. They are trying to use a technicality of the law to show that Jesus', as well as the Pharisee's, preaching on the resurrection is false. Jesus of course, does not fall for their little trick, and it is the Saducees who end up looking foolish. Not only is Jesus able to answer their question and prove their understanding of marriage to be in error, but he is also quick to prove the resurrection as well. The fact the God was the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was fundamental to the Jewish identity, so Jesus is playing a big card here. Essentially he is saying that to claim that there is no life beyond this one is to fundamentally misunderstand who God is. If God is indeed the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob then it follows that the Patriarchs, though their lives on earth were centuries before, must in some way still live, because God is not the God of the dead.
Today, there are many "Saducees" in the church, those who would dismiss the idea of the resurrection, who would want to preach Jesus as an idea, an ethic, a spiritual inspiration, instead of a risen and living Savior. They say things like this:
"The story of Jesus' bodily resurrection is, at best, conjectural; that the resurrection accounts in the four Gospels are contradictory and confusing... the significance of Easter is not that Jesus returned to actual life but that even death itself could not end the power of his presence in the lives of the faithful."
The Rt. Rev. John Chane, Bishop of Washington, D.C., Easter sermon in 2002
Like the Saducees of old, this is to fundamentally misunderstand God. It is to promote the worship of a false god.
Their god is god of the dead which really is fitting for the culture we live in.
Our God is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which means that our Lord Jesus Christ lives, for our God is the God of the living and not the dead.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Friday in Easter Week
I Corinthians 15:51-58
Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.
Why does any of this matter? Why does it matter what our bodies will be like, or really if there is any resurrection at all?
It matters immensely because it gives us assurance that we do not labor in vain. Because we will be resurrected with Christ, we do not live our lives merely waiting for death. Because we will rise to a human body and a human existence that is a once infinitely different and yet very much the same, we can know that what we do in this life matters. Whatever is good now will put on the imperishable and remain for eternity. So we also do not live our lives merely waiting for the next life.
Our eternal lives are now. Yes, at death or at the last trumpet we will be changed, but even now we live that abundant life which Christ promised.
If we all lived that way, what a difference there would be in the church and in the world!
Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.
Why does any of this matter? Why does it matter what our bodies will be like, or really if there is any resurrection at all?
It matters immensely because it gives us assurance that we do not labor in vain. Because we will be resurrected with Christ, we do not live our lives merely waiting for death. Because we will rise to a human body and a human existence that is a once infinitely different and yet very much the same, we can know that what we do in this life matters. Whatever is good now will put on the imperishable and remain for eternity. So we also do not live our lives merely waiting for the next life.
Our eternal lives are now. Yes, at death or at the last trumpet we will be changed, but even now we live that abundant life which Christ promised.
If we all lived that way, what a difference there would be in the church and in the world!
Thursday in Easter Week
I Corinthians 15:41-50
Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.
This passage taken in isolation makes it seem that Paul is perhaps talking about a resurrection that is spiritual, not physical. We must remember though about what Paul is in the midst of writing. He has been telling us that we will share in Christ's resurrection, and have a body like is. Now we have the body of dust, we shall have a body of heaven. What is Christ's body of heaven like? Look at the Gospel accounts of his appearances after the resurrection.
It is in many ways a spiritual body. It appears and disappears. It enters locked rooms. But is is also a physical body. It can be touched and felt. It eats. It bears the scars of his Passion. The body of heaven, the body of Christ, which we will inherit will be both spiritual and physical.
It is Greek philosophy, not Christian belief, that says the physical is bad, that the material and spiritual and completely opposed. In Christ the physical and spiritual is united, just as in him the divine and the human are united.
Our physical bodies are terribly tainted by sin, but they will be healed. All that is corrupt in the physical, pershability, dishonor, weakness will be removed in favor of imperishability, honor and power. It is in that body, our true human body, a body much more real than the one we have now, that we will inherit the kingdom of God.
Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.
This passage taken in isolation makes it seem that Paul is perhaps talking about a resurrection that is spiritual, not physical. We must remember though about what Paul is in the midst of writing. He has been telling us that we will share in Christ's resurrection, and have a body like is. Now we have the body of dust, we shall have a body of heaven. What is Christ's body of heaven like? Look at the Gospel accounts of his appearances after the resurrection.
It is in many ways a spiritual body. It appears and disappears. It enters locked rooms. But is is also a physical body. It can be touched and felt. It eats. It bears the scars of his Passion. The body of heaven, the body of Christ, which we will inherit will be both spiritual and physical.
It is Greek philosophy, not Christian belief, that says the physical is bad, that the material and spiritual and completely opposed. In Christ the physical and spiritual is united, just as in him the divine and the human are united.
Our physical bodies are terribly tainted by sin, but they will be healed. All that is corrupt in the physical, pershability, dishonor, weakness will be removed in favor of imperishability, honor and power. It is in that body, our true human body, a body much more real than the one we have now, that we will inherit the kingdom of God.
Tuesday in Easter Week
I Corinthians 15:12-28
And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.
It is clear from the way that St. Paul writes here in I Corinthians 15 that even in his own day, just a few short decades after the event, people were confused about the resurrection. People certainly liked the idea of Jesus and his teachings were nice, but for many the whole resurrection thing was just too much. Read Paul's address to the philosophers in Athens (Acts 17). He has them eating out of the palm of his hand until he gets to the resurrection, then they dismiss him as a fool.
Isn't it the same way today? People want to pick and choose from Christianity, keeping what they like (i.e. what confirms their way of thinking or living) and rejecting the rest. The resurrection is still just too much for some people.
For one thing, we superior minds of the 21st century don't have to believe in such fairy tales. We know that when people die they're dead, to think otherwise is simply to cling to stories which make us feel better about our ultimate fate. Only the weak need to dream about eternal life. The strong die and like it.
What a pernicious lie the world and the devil have foisted on us! Death is nothing but our mortal enemy in every sense of the term. Death, despite what we've been led to believe is not a "natural part of life." It is the end result of the poison of sin in the creation. God is God of life, death is His greatest foe. In the resurrection Christ defeated this foe and though it still rails against life in all its forms, death itself is dying. We need not fear it, or much less embrace it. It has no power over us.
Our culture however has given week and feeble death much power. We live in a culture of death. If you really think about it, death is at the root of all our cultural ills. Life is rejected at every turn. For this reason people still don't want to hear about a Jesus who died and was buried and then in his flesh rose again, beginning the ultimate defeat of the last enemy, death.
During these 50 days, and really our whole lives as Christians, we must devote ourselves to the destruction of death. We must live, abundantly and eternally, in a culture which is obsessed with death. This really is the crux of our faith. For if we have not been made alive in Christ what is the point? If we don't accept that our lives are eternal and await our own bodily resurrection, then all we do really is in vain. If we only have Christ for this short life then we are utterly pitiful.
And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.
It is clear from the way that St. Paul writes here in I Corinthians 15 that even in his own day, just a few short decades after the event, people were confused about the resurrection. People certainly liked the idea of Jesus and his teachings were nice, but for many the whole resurrection thing was just too much. Read Paul's address to the philosophers in Athens (Acts 17). He has them eating out of the palm of his hand until he gets to the resurrection, then they dismiss him as a fool.
Isn't it the same way today? People want to pick and choose from Christianity, keeping what they like (i.e. what confirms their way of thinking or living) and rejecting the rest. The resurrection is still just too much for some people.
For one thing, we superior minds of the 21st century don't have to believe in such fairy tales. We know that when people die they're dead, to think otherwise is simply to cling to stories which make us feel better about our ultimate fate. Only the weak need to dream about eternal life. The strong die and like it.
What a pernicious lie the world and the devil have foisted on us! Death is nothing but our mortal enemy in every sense of the term. Death, despite what we've been led to believe is not a "natural part of life." It is the end result of the poison of sin in the creation. God is God of life, death is His greatest foe. In the resurrection Christ defeated this foe and though it still rails against life in all its forms, death itself is dying. We need not fear it, or much less embrace it. It has no power over us.
Our culture however has given week and feeble death much power. We live in a culture of death. If you really think about it, death is at the root of all our cultural ills. Life is rejected at every turn. For this reason people still don't want to hear about a Jesus who died and was buried and then in his flesh rose again, beginning the ultimate defeat of the last enemy, death.
During these 50 days, and really our whole lives as Christians, we must devote ourselves to the destruction of death. We must live, abundantly and eternally, in a culture which is obsessed with death. This really is the crux of our faith. For if we have not been made alive in Christ what is the point? If we don't accept that our lives are eternal and await our own bodily resurrection, then all we do really is in vain. If we only have Christ for this short life then we are utterly pitiful.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Wednesday in Easter Week
I Corinthians 15:29-41
But someone will ask, "How are the dead raised?"
As we continue in Paul's great examination of the resurrection we reach what is certainly the most confusing part of the chapter, a passage that ranks among the most confusing in the whole New Testament.
We don't really know what Paul means by this talk of baptism for the dead. Some take it to mean that the Corinthians were vicariously baptizing each other on behalf of dead people. If that is the case Paul's mentioning of the practice doesn't mean he's condoning it. Either way, this sort of vicarious baptism has been condemned by the church for centuries. Personally, I take Paul's comments here to mean something different. Remember, he is the middle of talking about the resurrection and defending it against those who would try to explain it away. What I think Paul is saying is that if there is no resurrection then why do we baptism our bodies at all. Why do we put them in the water and cleanse them if they are as good as dead? It is our belief in a resurrection of the body which makes baptism make sense.
Now, of course that raises another question. If we will have a resurrected body what will it be like? Well the answer is: it will be different. As different as the seed is from the plant. As different as the moon is from the sun.
But someone will ask, "How are the dead raised?"
As we continue in Paul's great examination of the resurrection we reach what is certainly the most confusing part of the chapter, a passage that ranks among the most confusing in the whole New Testament.
We don't really know what Paul means by this talk of baptism for the dead. Some take it to mean that the Corinthians were vicariously baptizing each other on behalf of dead people. If that is the case Paul's mentioning of the practice doesn't mean he's condoning it. Either way, this sort of vicarious baptism has been condemned by the church for centuries. Personally, I take Paul's comments here to mean something different. Remember, he is the middle of talking about the resurrection and defending it against those who would try to explain it away. What I think Paul is saying is that if there is no resurrection then why do we baptism our bodies at all. Why do we put them in the water and cleanse them if they are as good as dead? It is our belief in a resurrection of the body which makes baptism make sense.
Now, of course that raises another question. If we will have a resurrected body what will it be like? Well the answer is: it will be different. As different as the seed is from the plant. As different as the moon is from the sun.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Monday in Easter Week
I Corinthians 15:1-11
For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received...
Today, the world and for that matter most of evangelical Christianity put Easter away. Christmas usually lingers at least until New Year's, but Easter disappears almost immediately.
Now, from the world's perspective this is not any surprise. I mean a holiday which is about nothing more than bunnies, chocolate and hunting eggs surely doesn't deserve more than a day's worth of celebration. Yet it is truly shocking how little attention Christians, at least in this country devote to the celebration of the resurrection. Really, most of us didn't even give all day yesterday to that. We go to church, give a good two hours to Jesus and then embark on the celebration of bunnies, and chocolate and hunting for eggs. For those of us who observed anything of Lent it must be a terrible let down that we prepared for forty days for that. Was that few hours of celebration really worth forty days of fasting and examination? Was the resurrection our Lord really worthily celebrated in just a few hours? I should think not!
What most of us miss is that Easter in the church is not confined to one Sunday morning but it is a festival that lasts 50 days! We should have fifty days of feasting, of joyful celebration, of greeting each other with "Christ is Risen!", of shouting "Alleluia!" because the what we are celebrating can bearly be contained to 50 days or 50 lifetimes, let alone one morning.
It is the thing of first importance, the pivotal and more significant event in all the existence of existence.
For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.
It is the ground and foundation of our Christian faith and of our entire lives as Christians.
Christ died for our sins, really died. It didn't just appear that he was dead, it wasn't someone else dying for him, it wasn't someone else crucified by mistake, neither was he just some man who died. (All things, by the way, the world and the devil would like us to believe). Christ Jesus, Son of God, died for our sins in all his humanity and divinity, and he was buried. Christ also on the third day, rose again, just as the Scriptures had foretold. He didn't just appear to rise, he didn't spiritually rise, he didn't just rise the hearts of his followers, he didn't rise as an idea or a morality or a an ethic or a movement. (All things, by the way, the world and the devil would like us to believe). Christ Jesus rose in a new, but very real, very human, very material body and he appeared to multiple witnesses. So many witnesses in fact, that if Jesus didn't scare the world so much, they would have to accept his resurrection as an indisputable fact (just as they would with any other event witnessed by so many.)
That would be enough to celebrate for fifty days, but there is so much more...
For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received...
Today, the world and for that matter most of evangelical Christianity put Easter away. Christmas usually lingers at least until New Year's, but Easter disappears almost immediately.
Now, from the world's perspective this is not any surprise. I mean a holiday which is about nothing more than bunnies, chocolate and hunting eggs surely doesn't deserve more than a day's worth of celebration. Yet it is truly shocking how little attention Christians, at least in this country devote to the celebration of the resurrection. Really, most of us didn't even give all day yesterday to that. We go to church, give a good two hours to Jesus and then embark on the celebration of bunnies, and chocolate and hunting for eggs. For those of us who observed anything of Lent it must be a terrible let down that we prepared for forty days for that. Was that few hours of celebration really worth forty days of fasting and examination? Was the resurrection our Lord really worthily celebrated in just a few hours? I should think not!
What most of us miss is that Easter in the church is not confined to one Sunday morning but it is a festival that lasts 50 days! We should have fifty days of feasting, of joyful celebration, of greeting each other with "Christ is Risen!", of shouting "Alleluia!" because the what we are celebrating can bearly be contained to 50 days or 50 lifetimes, let alone one morning.
It is the thing of first importance, the pivotal and more significant event in all the existence of existence.
For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.
It is the ground and foundation of our Christian faith and of our entire lives as Christians.
Christ died for our sins, really died. It didn't just appear that he was dead, it wasn't someone else dying for him, it wasn't someone else crucified by mistake, neither was he just some man who died. (All things, by the way, the world and the devil would like us to believe). Christ Jesus, Son of God, died for our sins in all his humanity and divinity, and he was buried. Christ also on the third day, rose again, just as the Scriptures had foretold. He didn't just appear to rise, he didn't spiritually rise, he didn't just rise the hearts of his followers, he didn't rise as an idea or a morality or a an ethic or a movement. (All things, by the way, the world and the devil would like us to believe). Christ Jesus rose in a new, but very real, very human, very material body and he appeared to multiple witnesses. So many witnesses in fact, that if Jesus didn't scare the world so much, they would have to accept his resurrection as an indisputable fact (just as they would with any other event witnessed by so many.)
That would be enough to celebrate for fifty days, but there is so much more...
Sunday, April 8, 2012
The Sunday of the Resurrection: Easter Day
The Ballad of the Goodly Fere by Ezra Pound | ||
Simon Zelotes speaketh some while after the Crucifixion. Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O' ships and the open sea.
When they came wi' a host to take Our Man
His smile was good to see,
"First let these go!" quo' our Goodly Fere,
"Or I'll see ye damned," says he.
Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears
And the scorn of his laugh rang free,
"Why took ye not me when I walked about
Alone in the town?" says he.
Oh we drank his "Hale" in the good red wine
When we last made company,
No capon priest was the Goodly Fere
But a man o' men was he.
I ha' seen him drive a hundred men
Wi' a bundle o' cords swung free,
That they took the high and holy house
For their pawn and treasury.
They'll no' get him a' in a book I think
Though they write it cunningly;
No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere
But aye loved the open sea.
If they think they ha' snared our Goodly Fere
They are fools to the last degree.
"I'll go to the feast," quo' our Goodly Fere,
"Though I go to the gallows tree."
"Ye ha' seen me heal the lame and blind,
And wake the dead," says he,
"Ye shall see one thing to master all:
'Tis how a brave man dies on the tree."
A son of God was the Goodly Fere
That bade us his brothers be.
I ha' seen him cow a thousand men.
I have seen him upon the tree.
He cried no cry when they drave the nails
And the blood gushed hot and free,
The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue
But never a cry cried he.
I ha' seen him cow a thousand men
On the hills o' Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between,
Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea,
Like the sea that brooks no voyaging
With the winds unleashed and free,
Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret
Wi' twey words spoke' suddently.
A master of men was the Goodly Fere,
A mate of the wind and sea,
If they think they ha' slain our Goodly Fere
They are fools eternally.
I ha' seen him eat o' the honey-comb
Sin' they nailed him to the tree. | ||
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Holy Saturday
It is not by some accident of history that it was on Saturday, the Sabbath, that Christ laid in the tomb.
You may have noticed that today there is no reading from the Gospel. Today is unique in the lectionary for that reason. Today, the Gospel is silent, Christ is silent. Likewise, it is forbidden to celebrate the Eucharist on this day. On this day, Our Lord keeps Sabbath to its fullness. On this day, in our Lord's mighty rest, the Sabbath is fulfilled.
But the Sabbath ends at sun down, Our Lord's rest will soon be at an end.
Then light will shine out of the darkness. The new fire will be lit and darkness will be put to flight.
Tonight is the night, when God brought our Fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land.
Tonight is the night , when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life.
Tonight is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave.
How blessed is this night, when earth and heaven are joined and man is reconciled to God!
You may have noticed that today there is no reading from the Gospel. Today is unique in the lectionary for that reason. Today, the Gospel is silent, Christ is silent. Likewise, it is forbidden to celebrate the Eucharist on this day. On this day, Our Lord keeps Sabbath to its fullness. On this day, in our Lord's mighty rest, the Sabbath is fulfilled.
But the Sabbath ends at sun down, Our Lord's rest will soon be at an end.
Then light will shine out of the darkness. The new fire will be lit and darkness will be put to flight.
Tonight is the night, when God brought our Fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land.
Tonight is the night , when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life.
Tonight is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave.
How blessed is this night, when earth and heaven are joined and man is reconciled to God!
Friday, April 6, 2012
Good Friday
Psalm 22
Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-33
1 Peter 1:10-20
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope...
Hope is a such a rare thing in our society. We live in a world crying out for hope, desperate for hope. You can see it everywhere. In 2008 the mere word energized the population into electing a president. Yet, it seems that that hope is not realized. You can see it in the faces of Tea Partiers and Occupiers alike; you can see it everywhere. Now, I'm not here to make a political statement (this not the place for that, and today is certainly not the day) except for this, that hope is not to be found in elections or presidents or legislation or protests or social movements. Hope is not found in a better economy or a different government or a healthier environment. Hope is found only in one place: the one who today in unutterable shame and agony bled and died upon the cross.
At first I found it odd that the readings today spoke so much of hope. Today, after all, we remember the darkest hours in all of history. It must have really been a rather hopeless day to the followers of Jesus. As far as they were concerned there was no escaping Roman justice, no escaping death. It must have seemed that there was nothing to be done. It was over; their hope in Jesus must have been misplaced. Now their only stark hope was to be able to escape sharing in Jesus' fate.
It is, however, in those darkest moments, those most hopeless times, that only hope in God can endure. I think that is what we are to be reminded of today, why we live out this week and especially these three days every year. It is because they take us to the bottom of hopelessness, the very death of him who is our Hope. They leave us there weeping at the dark and shaken foot of the cross, with the blood and water dripping down. In that moment we have only Hope to cling to, all else is gone.
Our lives never descend to the depths of Good Friday, but they do go often go pretty low. It is not so rare I think to be left with only hope to cling to. Yet, if our hope is not the one Hope then it too will melt through our fingers.
Therefore, gird up your minds, be sober, set your hope fully upon the grace that is coming to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
You see, while these holy days teach us how to live in hope even at the foot of the cross, they also assure us that our hopes are not unfounded. This darkest day is followed so quickly by the great triumph. The hopelessness of the cross is trampled down by the victory of the resurrection.
Let us today remember the affliction and the bitterness, the wormwood and the gall. Let us continually think of it and be bowed down. Yet let us also call to mind and have hope that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases no matter how dark the hour. Let our souls say "The Lord is my portion therefore I will have hope." Then let us, secure in the Hope, declare our Hope to a hopeless generation, proclaim to that people yet unborn the deliverance which He has wrought.
Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-33
1 Peter 1:10-20
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope...
Hope is a such a rare thing in our society. We live in a world crying out for hope, desperate for hope. You can see it everywhere. In 2008 the mere word energized the population into electing a president. Yet, it seems that that hope is not realized. You can see it in the faces of Tea Partiers and Occupiers alike; you can see it everywhere. Now, I'm not here to make a political statement (this not the place for that, and today is certainly not the day) except for this, that hope is not to be found in elections or presidents or legislation or protests or social movements. Hope is not found in a better economy or a different government or a healthier environment. Hope is found only in one place: the one who today in unutterable shame and agony bled and died upon the cross.
At first I found it odd that the readings today spoke so much of hope. Today, after all, we remember the darkest hours in all of history. It must have really been a rather hopeless day to the followers of Jesus. As far as they were concerned there was no escaping Roman justice, no escaping death. It must have seemed that there was nothing to be done. It was over; their hope in Jesus must have been misplaced. Now their only stark hope was to be able to escape sharing in Jesus' fate.
It is, however, in those darkest moments, those most hopeless times, that only hope in God can endure. I think that is what we are to be reminded of today, why we live out this week and especially these three days every year. It is because they take us to the bottom of hopelessness, the very death of him who is our Hope. They leave us there weeping at the dark and shaken foot of the cross, with the blood and water dripping down. In that moment we have only Hope to cling to, all else is gone.
Our lives never descend to the depths of Good Friday, but they do go often go pretty low. It is not so rare I think to be left with only hope to cling to. Yet, if our hope is not the one Hope then it too will melt through our fingers.
Therefore, gird up your minds, be sober, set your hope fully upon the grace that is coming to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
You see, while these holy days teach us how to live in hope even at the foot of the cross, they also assure us that our hopes are not unfounded. This darkest day is followed so quickly by the great triumph. The hopelessness of the cross is trampled down by the victory of the resurrection.
Let us today remember the affliction and the bitterness, the wormwood and the gall. Let us continually think of it and be bowed down. Yet let us also call to mind and have hope that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases no matter how dark the hour. Let our souls say "The Lord is my portion therefore I will have hope." Then let us, secure in the Hope, declare our Hope to a hopeless generation, proclaim to that people yet unborn the deliverance which He has wrought.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Maundy Thursday
Lamentations 2:10-18
1 Corinthians 10:14-17, 11:27-32
Mark 14:12-25
They cry to their mothers, "Where is bread and wine?”
Today's reading in Lamentations gives us a picture of a truly desperate people. God has turned his wrath against his people. All the warnings which He's been giving them since the days of Moses are now being fulfilled. All the sanctions for violating the covenant are now, after centuries of mercy and patience, being invoked. The threat ordained so long ago has been carried out. "The Lord has become like an enemy" and vast as the sea is the ruin of Zion. God who once sustained his people in the desert with the bread of angels now lets them suffer hunger and want in the extreme.
We might ask, "how could God be so cruel?" "How could he do this to his own people?" It is a valid question, and not one easily answered. Perhaps, one reason was to teach them what it means to forsake God and to be God forsaken. To be without God is really to live and be dead. It is like living your life without some key necessity, without food or drink. The thing is, that's how most people live. They live without that key ingredient that makes life more than a living death.
Of course, we know that God has not fully abandoned his people. They are not truly God forsaken and neither are all the people who live today with their backs turned to God. He still sends his rain on them, he still blesses and loves them. There is only one who has been truly God forsaken. Read Lamentations again, and instead of envisioning a ruined city, see Christ on the cross as he cries out "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani" and begin to understand the searing pain of true God-forsakenness. But we get ahead of ourselves. That is tomorrow's sorrow and tomorrow's glory. Today we remember a different and yet intimately similar way in which our Lord gave himself for us.
We all cry out in our starvation and deprivation "where is bread and wine?" "Where is that which will nourish us in our starvation, which will save us from our living death?" Really, that is what all people are after. Everyone is searching, whether they realize it or not, for the bread of life. Unfortunately most people fill themselves with false bread which is really no more than poison. That is, I think, really the nature of addiction, our common human compulsion to fill that void with anything that even for a fleeting moment eases the pain or distracts us from our distress. There is, however, only one thing which truly satisfies our hunger, that ends our starvation, that brings us into true and abundant life. That is the Living Bread, Jesus. There is only one drink which truly slakes our thirst for meaning, for peace, for love. That is the Living Water, Jesus.
In the night in which he was betrayed, Our Lord took bread; and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take, eat, this is my Body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me."
Likewise, after supper, he took the cup; and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, "Drink this, all of you; for this is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you, and for many, for the remission of sins. Do this, as oft as ye shall drink it, in remembrance of me.
Jesus gives us the bread and wine for which all the seemingly God forsaken cry out. The bread and wine is His Body and Blood. He gives himself to sustain our lives, to rescue us from impending death.
Now, I know that there are church rupturing disagreements about what all that really means. What does it mean that the bread is his Body and that the wine is his Blood? It is truly, I believe, one of the greatest tragedies of the church and most pernicious works of the devil, that the very sacrament given to us to be the source our unity and strength has so often been the source of our division and weakness. I think, however, that we should all be able to agree that was does happen is that in some way Christ nourishes us. Whether it is with his true Body and Blood, or merely with the memory of his great sacrifice, we are nourished, our cries for sustenance are answered.
Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen
1 Corinthians 10:14-17, 11:27-32
Mark 14:12-25
They cry to their mothers, "Where is bread and wine?”
Today's reading in Lamentations gives us a picture of a truly desperate people. God has turned his wrath against his people. All the warnings which He's been giving them since the days of Moses are now being fulfilled. All the sanctions for violating the covenant are now, after centuries of mercy and patience, being invoked. The threat ordained so long ago has been carried out. "The Lord has become like an enemy" and vast as the sea is the ruin of Zion. God who once sustained his people in the desert with the bread of angels now lets them suffer hunger and want in the extreme.
We might ask, "how could God be so cruel?" "How could he do this to his own people?" It is a valid question, and not one easily answered. Perhaps, one reason was to teach them what it means to forsake God and to be God forsaken. To be without God is really to live and be dead. It is like living your life without some key necessity, without food or drink. The thing is, that's how most people live. They live without that key ingredient that makes life more than a living death.
Of course, we know that God has not fully abandoned his people. They are not truly God forsaken and neither are all the people who live today with their backs turned to God. He still sends his rain on them, he still blesses and loves them. There is only one who has been truly God forsaken. Read Lamentations again, and instead of envisioning a ruined city, see Christ on the cross as he cries out "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani" and begin to understand the searing pain of true God-forsakenness. But we get ahead of ourselves. That is tomorrow's sorrow and tomorrow's glory. Today we remember a different and yet intimately similar way in which our Lord gave himself for us.
We all cry out in our starvation and deprivation "where is bread and wine?" "Where is that which will nourish us in our starvation, which will save us from our living death?" Really, that is what all people are after. Everyone is searching, whether they realize it or not, for the bread of life. Unfortunately most people fill themselves with false bread which is really no more than poison. That is, I think, really the nature of addiction, our common human compulsion to fill that void with anything that even for a fleeting moment eases the pain or distracts us from our distress. There is, however, only one thing which truly satisfies our hunger, that ends our starvation, that brings us into true and abundant life. That is the Living Bread, Jesus. There is only one drink which truly slakes our thirst for meaning, for peace, for love. That is the Living Water, Jesus.
In the night in which he was betrayed, Our Lord took bread; and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take, eat, this is my Body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me."
Likewise, after supper, he took the cup; and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, "Drink this, all of you; for this is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you, and for many, for the remission of sins. Do this, as oft as ye shall drink it, in remembrance of me.
Jesus gives us the bread and wine for which all the seemingly God forsaken cry out. The bread and wine is His Body and Blood. He gives himself to sustain our lives, to rescue us from impending death.
Now, I know that there are church rupturing disagreements about what all that really means. What does it mean that the bread is his Body and that the wine is his Blood? It is truly, I believe, one of the greatest tragedies of the church and most pernicious works of the devil, that the very sacrament given to us to be the source our unity and strength has so often been the source of our division and weakness. I think, however, that we should all be able to agree that was does happen is that in some way Christ nourishes us. Whether it is with his true Body and Blood, or merely with the memory of his great sacrifice, we are nourished, our cries for sustenance are answered.
Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Wednesday in Holy Week
Mark 12:1-11
“‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing,
and it is marvelous in our eyes’”
Rejection. It was the sin that started it all. Adam and Eve rejected God. It is the sin the permeates the whole story. Israel rejected God. It is likewise the punishment. God rejected Adam and Eve, cast them out of the garden. God rejected Israel, just read Lamentations.
It is what is going on this week in the life of Jesus. He is rejected at every turn. Betrayed. Denied. Lied about. Mocked. Abused. Misjudged. Unjustly Condemned. Tortured. Shamed. Crucified. Rejected by Israel, by the Gentiles, by his own disciples, even in the end by the Father.
He is indeed the stone that was rejected.
All of this however, is to achieve the great unrejection, the wonderful reconciliation, the magnificent reunification. The rejected stone, you see, will become the chief cornerstone upon which is built the great community of those who although the world may reject them, are accepted by God.
This final rejection undoes all the others. It undoes God's rejection of us, and if we are willing, our rejection of God.
This was the Lord's doing and it is marvelous in our eyes.
“‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing,
and it is marvelous in our eyes’”
Rejection. It was the sin that started it all. Adam and Eve rejected God. It is the sin the permeates the whole story. Israel rejected God. It is likewise the punishment. God rejected Adam and Eve, cast them out of the garden. God rejected Israel, just read Lamentations.
It is what is going on this week in the life of Jesus. He is rejected at every turn. Betrayed. Denied. Lied about. Mocked. Abused. Misjudged. Unjustly Condemned. Tortured. Shamed. Crucified. Rejected by Israel, by the Gentiles, by his own disciples, even in the end by the Father.
He is indeed the stone that was rejected.
All of this however, is to achieve the great unrejection, the wonderful reconciliation, the magnificent reunification. The rejected stone, you see, will become the chief cornerstone upon which is built the great community of those who although the world may reject them, are accepted by God.
This final rejection undoes all the others. It undoes God's rejection of us, and if we are willing, our rejection of God.
This was the Lord's doing and it is marvelous in our eyes.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Tuesday in Holy Week
2 Corinthians 1:8-22
For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, Silvanus and Timothy and I, was not Yes and No, but in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him...
It was striking to read those words, that in Jesus it is always Yes, after reading " Zion stretches out her hands, but there is none to comfort her." The Lamentations reading makes it seem like there sure is a lot of No from God. Life makes it seem like there sure is a lot of No from God. No seems to be a common answer to our prayers. So often our desires are frustrated and our plans twarted. How often have we felt that if we could just have this comfort, this thing, this gift, this oppurtunity, this acceptance, then life would be right, then we just might be able to live more faithfully to God. But we don't get the comfort, the thing, the gift, the oppurtunity, the acceptance. God seems to give such a resounding "No!"
But in Jesus Christ it is always Yes.
You see, we very well may not get that for which we pray even in all earnestness, because often, really always, what God wants to give us is more than we could ask or imagine. You see, what he gives us is his Son. No matter what we think we need, what we truly need is always Jesus, and the answer to that request is always Yes. Jesus is the answer to every need, Jesus is every promise that God has ever made, and Jesus was given to us all on the hard wood of the cross.
That is indeed why we utter the Amen to the glory of God.
For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, Silvanus and Timothy and I, was not Yes and No, but in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him...
It was striking to read those words, that in Jesus it is always Yes, after reading " Zion stretches out her hands, but there is none to comfort her." The Lamentations reading makes it seem like there sure is a lot of No from God. Life makes it seem like there sure is a lot of No from God. No seems to be a common answer to our prayers. So often our desires are frustrated and our plans twarted. How often have we felt that if we could just have this comfort, this thing, this gift, this oppurtunity, this acceptance, then life would be right, then we just might be able to live more faithfully to God. But we don't get the comfort, the thing, the gift, the oppurtunity, the acceptance. God seems to give such a resounding "No!"
But in Jesus Christ it is always Yes.
You see, we very well may not get that for which we pray even in all earnestness, because often, really always, what God wants to give us is more than we could ask or imagine. You see, what he gives us is his Son. No matter what we think we need, what we truly need is always Jesus, and the answer to that request is always Yes. Jesus is the answer to every need, Jesus is every promise that God has ever made, and Jesus was given to us all on the hard wood of the cross.
That is indeed why we utter the Amen to the glory of God.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Monday in Holy Week
Lamentations 1:1-2,6-12
Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me,
I'll have to admit that it took a little digging to find the Lamentations of Jeremiah in my Bible this morning. In my favorites parts of the Bible the pages are worn and stained, covered in red underlines. In Lamentations, however, the pages were crisp and clean without a single mark. I'm guessing that that was true of many Bibles this morning. Lamentations is simply not a place we turn to often, except perhaps in Holy Week, because its just such a downer. You see the message of Lamentations is not one which we like to hear in American Christianity, and that message is that sometimes life is really pretty terrible. We might be okay with talk of bearing our crosses and loosing ourselves, but only as long as it is all done with a stiff upper lip. We know, of course, that bad things happen, that failure and loss and sickness and death come to us all, but for some reason we find it our Christian duty to mask the hurt, to anesthetize ourselves against the pain.
We have for some reason, come to believe that to truly hurt is unChristian, that somehow to mourn is to deny the hope of Christ. We certainly believe that it is anathema to be weak, especially emotionally. The thing is, these things are not unChristian at all. (They may very well be unAmerican, but our confusion and conflation of those two things is a different, albeit serious, issue.) Look to Our Lord who wept at Lazarus' grave knowing full well what he was about to do. It is quite possible to righteously feel the pain and hurt of a loss and still stand confidently in the hope that Our Lord is in the business of working all things together for our good.
When we refuse, falsely in the name of hope or faith (but truly out of fear of weakness), to suffer then we are denying ourselves such an important part of both the human and Christian experience. It is simply not healthy in any way, not physically, emotionally or spiritually, to stifle our pain. In doing so we deny ourselves the redemptive power of feeling our pain for all it's worth. We cheat ourselves when we try to ignore or cure our suffering before it has run its course.
Yet, we must also remember that as Christians we do not grieve as those who have no hope. It is not a sin to suffer, it is not a sin to be sad or hurt or in pain, but it is a sin to despair. Despair is when our pain causes us to turn in on ourselves, to shut out the outside. Despair is when our pain, rather than God, becomes the source of our life and energies, and that is a most dangerous place in which to be. Our mourning, like all our life, must be rooted in Christ. We must feel our pain sheltered in his arms. "For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too."
So, let us lament with Jeremiah, there is no sin in it. Let us cry out with him in his pain, and in our own, we will be better for it. Let us, this week especially, steep a bit in the Passion, let us not get to quickly to Easter. Let us learn to suffer at Our Lord's side, who did not enter into his glory before he suffered pain. Let us sit awhile in sackcloth and ashes, let there be weeping and gnashing of teeth. May the full force of what this week is come over us, may we truly realize what Jesus went through and that he did so for us. Let us not pass by his suffering, or indeed our own whatever it may be, as if it were nothing to us.
O come and mourn with me awhile;
And tarry here the cross beside;
O come, together let us mourn;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Have we no tears to shed for Him,
While soldiers scoff and foes deride?
Ah! look how patiently He hangs;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
How fast His hands and feet are nailed;
His blessed tongue with thirst is tied,
His failing eyes are blind with blood:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
His mother cannot reach His face;
She stands in helplessness beside;
Her heart is martyred with her Son’s:
Jesus, our Lord, is Crucified.
Seven times He spoke, seven words of love;
And all three hours His silence cried
For mercy on the souls of men;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Come, let us stand beneath the cross;
So may the blood from out His side
Fall gently on us drop by drop;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
O break, O break, hard heart of mine!
Thy weak self-love and guilty pride
His Pilate and His Judas were:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
A broken heart, a fount of tears,
Ask, and they will not be denied;
A broken heart love’s cradle is:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
O love of God! O sin of man!
In this dread act Your strength is tried;
And victory remains with love;
For Thou our Lord, art crucified!
-Frederick Faber
Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me,
I'll have to admit that it took a little digging to find the Lamentations of Jeremiah in my Bible this morning. In my favorites parts of the Bible the pages are worn and stained, covered in red underlines. In Lamentations, however, the pages were crisp and clean without a single mark. I'm guessing that that was true of many Bibles this morning. Lamentations is simply not a place we turn to often, except perhaps in Holy Week, because its just such a downer. You see the message of Lamentations is not one which we like to hear in American Christianity, and that message is that sometimes life is really pretty terrible. We might be okay with talk of bearing our crosses and loosing ourselves, but only as long as it is all done with a stiff upper lip. We know, of course, that bad things happen, that failure and loss and sickness and death come to us all, but for some reason we find it our Christian duty to mask the hurt, to anesthetize ourselves against the pain.
We have for some reason, come to believe that to truly hurt is unChristian, that somehow to mourn is to deny the hope of Christ. We certainly believe that it is anathema to be weak, especially emotionally. The thing is, these things are not unChristian at all. (They may very well be unAmerican, but our confusion and conflation of those two things is a different, albeit serious, issue.) Look to Our Lord who wept at Lazarus' grave knowing full well what he was about to do. It is quite possible to righteously feel the pain and hurt of a loss and still stand confidently in the hope that Our Lord is in the business of working all things together for our good.
When we refuse, falsely in the name of hope or faith (but truly out of fear of weakness), to suffer then we are denying ourselves such an important part of both the human and Christian experience. It is simply not healthy in any way, not physically, emotionally or spiritually, to stifle our pain. In doing so we deny ourselves the redemptive power of feeling our pain for all it's worth. We cheat ourselves when we try to ignore or cure our suffering before it has run its course.
Yet, we must also remember that as Christians we do not grieve as those who have no hope. It is not a sin to suffer, it is not a sin to be sad or hurt or in pain, but it is a sin to despair. Despair is when our pain causes us to turn in on ourselves, to shut out the outside. Despair is when our pain, rather than God, becomes the source of our life and energies, and that is a most dangerous place in which to be. Our mourning, like all our life, must be rooted in Christ. We must feel our pain sheltered in his arms. "For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too."
So, let us lament with Jeremiah, there is no sin in it. Let us cry out with him in his pain, and in our own, we will be better for it. Let us, this week especially, steep a bit in the Passion, let us not get to quickly to Easter. Let us learn to suffer at Our Lord's side, who did not enter into his glory before he suffered pain. Let us sit awhile in sackcloth and ashes, let there be weeping and gnashing of teeth. May the full force of what this week is come over us, may we truly realize what Jesus went through and that he did so for us. Let us not pass by his suffering, or indeed our own whatever it may be, as if it were nothing to us.
O come and mourn with me awhile;
And tarry here the cross beside;
O come, together let us mourn;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Have we no tears to shed for Him,
While soldiers scoff and foes deride?
Ah! look how patiently He hangs;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
How fast His hands and feet are nailed;
His blessed tongue with thirst is tied,
His failing eyes are blind with blood:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
His mother cannot reach His face;
She stands in helplessness beside;
Her heart is martyred with her Son’s:
Jesus, our Lord, is Crucified.
Seven times He spoke, seven words of love;
And all three hours His silence cried
For mercy on the souls of men;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Come, let us stand beneath the cross;
So may the blood from out His side
Fall gently on us drop by drop;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
O break, O break, hard heart of mine!
Thy weak self-love and guilty pride
His Pilate and His Judas were:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
A broken heart, a fount of tears,
Ask, and they will not be denied;
A broken heart love’s cradle is:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
O love of God! O sin of man!
In this dread act Your strength is tried;
And victory remains with love;
For Thou our Lord, art crucified!
-Frederick Faber
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Palm Sunday
Zechariah 9:9-12
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
by G. K. Chesterton
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!
Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
The Donkey
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
God seems to have a special affinity for the "tattered outlaw of the earth." Everytime I read about a donkey in Scripture I think of Pauls words: "But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong" (1 Cor 1:27). The perfect example of this is the story of Balaam, one that we don't read very much but its one of my favorites (look for it in Numbers 22-24). Balaam, the prophet whose "eye is opened" (Num 24:15) is saved from destruction by his donkey who sees the sword wielding angel in the road to which Balaam is blind.
But today must be the great day in all the history of the donkey, the fulfillment of the great donkey prophesy. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords comes riding into the city not mounted on some great steed or in some ornate chariot, but astride the foal of a donkey. What a strange picture this must have been to a people used to the victory parades of conquering Romans!
The beast whose very name is a by-word, an insult, is the one afforded this great honor, the one who brings the Lord into his city. This should tell us something about who the Lord is, and about what his reign as King is like. It should also tell us something about whom the Lord uses, and what great things he can do with those that the world writes off.
He has chosen the foolish things to confound the wise. Today we remember how he did that with a donkey. Later this week we will recall the most spectacular example of this principle, the cross.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Saturday, the Fifth Week of Lent
Mark 10:46-52
And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.
It is rare in the Gospels, especially in Mark, for the name of one of bit-players to be given. Just think of all the stories of Jesus' miracles we have. What do we call those healed: The man born blind, the woman with the flow of blood, the widow of Nain's son, the Canaanite woman's daughter, the Centurion's servant. They are nameless in the account, so we identify them however we can, by their condition, by a relationship. But here, in Jericho, we meet an exception, Blind Bartimeus.
This short little story is unique and important for several reasons. It's the last miracle recorded in Mark, it's the last story before the Passion. We see Jesus declared "Son of David", we hear the beautiful words "Your faith has made you well." But to me this story has always stood out, simply because its gives the man's name, Bartimeus.
It is hard to say why Mark decided to record this miracle-recipient's name when he had neglected to do so so many times before. For some reason, this man stands out. It's not good preaching to try to read the original author's thoughts beyond what the text says, so I'm not going to guess why Bartimeus was special to Mark. I can tell you why he stands out to me, why, if I were writing this story, I might have made note of this particular man's name.
It's not that he came to Jesus to be healed, many did that. It's not that he demonstrated great faith, many did that. It could be because he cried out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me." That is the quintessential prayer, isn't it? It's really what all of our prayers boil down to. But there's something even more to Bartimeus. I like the way that he leaps up, leaving his cloak, running (stumbling I'm sure) to Jesus. But that's not it either. You see, he had great faith which caused him to respond to Jesus with humility and enthusiasm, he was healed, and then he did the truly remarkable thing: "He followed him on the way."
For this reason he stands out in stark contrast to the other's around Jesus. We just read about the Rich Young Ruler, who "lacked one thing" but turned from Jesus. Then we read about the disciples who, indeed follow Jesus, but they were also jockeying for position and arguing over status.
Bartimeus has nothing, and asks only for his sight, really not an unreasonable request, and upon receiving it, he uses it for one purpose: to follow Jesus.
And it's not just to anywhere that Bartimeus is following Jesus. This story mark's the end of Jesus' life as an itinerant preacher and healer. The very next words in the text are "Now when they drew near to Jerusalem..." Bartimeus follows Jesus directly into the Passion.
That's what makes him so special, because he does what we're all called to do: Have faith, cry out for mercy, leap up at Jesus' call, leave all we have behind us, receive Jesus' healing, and follow him on the way which leads to Calvary.
As we embark once again, to relive our Lord's passion, let us remember Blind Bartimeus, and seek to be like him. Let us pray that this week, we, like him, will receive new sight, and use it only to follow Jesus along the way.
And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.
It is rare in the Gospels, especially in Mark, for the name of one of bit-players to be given. Just think of all the stories of Jesus' miracles we have. What do we call those healed: The man born blind, the woman with the flow of blood, the widow of Nain's son, the Canaanite woman's daughter, the Centurion's servant. They are nameless in the account, so we identify them however we can, by their condition, by a relationship. But here, in Jericho, we meet an exception, Blind Bartimeus.
This short little story is unique and important for several reasons. It's the last miracle recorded in Mark, it's the last story before the Passion. We see Jesus declared "Son of David", we hear the beautiful words "Your faith has made you well." But to me this story has always stood out, simply because its gives the man's name, Bartimeus.
It is hard to say why Mark decided to record this miracle-recipient's name when he had neglected to do so so many times before. For some reason, this man stands out. It's not good preaching to try to read the original author's thoughts beyond what the text says, so I'm not going to guess why Bartimeus was special to Mark. I can tell you why he stands out to me, why, if I were writing this story, I might have made note of this particular man's name.
It's not that he came to Jesus to be healed, many did that. It's not that he demonstrated great faith, many did that. It could be because he cried out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me." That is the quintessential prayer, isn't it? It's really what all of our prayers boil down to. But there's something even more to Bartimeus. I like the way that he leaps up, leaving his cloak, running (stumbling I'm sure) to Jesus. But that's not it either. You see, he had great faith which caused him to respond to Jesus with humility and enthusiasm, he was healed, and then he did the truly remarkable thing: "He followed him on the way."
For this reason he stands out in stark contrast to the other's around Jesus. We just read about the Rich Young Ruler, who "lacked one thing" but turned from Jesus. Then we read about the disciples who, indeed follow Jesus, but they were also jockeying for position and arguing over status.
Bartimeus has nothing, and asks only for his sight, really not an unreasonable request, and upon receiving it, he uses it for one purpose: to follow Jesus.
And it's not just to anywhere that Bartimeus is following Jesus. This story mark's the end of Jesus' life as an itinerant preacher and healer. The very next words in the text are "Now when they drew near to Jerusalem..." Bartimeus follows Jesus directly into the Passion.
That's what makes him so special, because he does what we're all called to do: Have faith, cry out for mercy, leap up at Jesus' call, leave all we have behind us, receive Jesus' healing, and follow him on the way which leads to Calvary.
As we embark once again, to relive our Lord's passion, let us remember Blind Bartimeus, and seek to be like him. Let us pray that this week, we, like him, will receive new sight, and use it only to follow Jesus along the way.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Friday, the Fifth Week of Lent
2 Corinthians 4:1-12
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.
There are certain passages in the Bible that preach themselves, and this is one of them. It is such a meaninful passage to so many Christians because it speaks so eloquently and directly into the Christian experience. We as Christians are indeed earthen vessels, clay jars, in which is stored an unfathomable treasure. For all the grace of God, and love of Christ and power of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us we are still so weak, still so paralyzed by fears, still so wracked by sin, still so prone to stray. Yet, God still uses us to achieve his wonderful work of redeeming the world through his Son.
Now, I suppose God could solve all our problems. He could make us perfect in strength, and courage and righteousness and faithfulness. He could by his Spirit transform us in the blink of an eye, but he doesn't and that is by design. He stores his treasure in clay jars, to show that the power is his and not ours. What kind of witness to the world would we be if we had no struggles with life and self and sin? It is the very fact that in the midst of struggle, terrible struggle, struggle even unto death, that we remain faithful even in the feeble way that we do, which lets the power of God shine forth to those around us and declares his glory to them. Perhaps that is why God chooses stutterers (Moses), youngest brothers (David), little girls (Mary), and former persecutors (Paul) to serve him in the way that he does. How could any one believe that these people could do what they did for God, unless God was in it, unless the power was Gods?
God chooses clay pots, and sometimes cracked ones, to serve him. He chooses you and me to serve him without requiring us to be anything more than a willing vessel. We provide the clay, he provides the power.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.
There are certain passages in the Bible that preach themselves, and this is one of them. It is such a meaninful passage to so many Christians because it speaks so eloquently and directly into the Christian experience. We as Christians are indeed earthen vessels, clay jars, in which is stored an unfathomable treasure. For all the grace of God, and love of Christ and power of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us we are still so weak, still so paralyzed by fears, still so wracked by sin, still so prone to stray. Yet, God still uses us to achieve his wonderful work of redeeming the world through his Son.
Now, I suppose God could solve all our problems. He could make us perfect in strength, and courage and righteousness and faithfulness. He could by his Spirit transform us in the blink of an eye, but he doesn't and that is by design. He stores his treasure in clay jars, to show that the power is his and not ours. What kind of witness to the world would we be if we had no struggles with life and self and sin? It is the very fact that in the midst of struggle, terrible struggle, struggle even unto death, that we remain faithful even in the feeble way that we do, which lets the power of God shine forth to those around us and declares his glory to them. Perhaps that is why God chooses stutterers (Moses), youngest brothers (David), little girls (Mary), and former persecutors (Paul) to serve him in the way that he does. How could any one believe that these people could do what they did for God, unless God was in it, unless the power was Gods?
God chooses clay pots, and sometimes cracked ones, to serve him. He chooses you and me to serve him without requiring us to be anything more than a willing vessel. We provide the clay, he provides the power.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Thursday, the Fifth Week of Lent
Exodus 7:25-8:19
2 Corinthians 3:7-18
Mark 10:17-31
But when Pharaoh saw that there was a respite, he hardened his heart and would not listen to them, as the LORD had said.
The Daily Lectionary is generally not designed to be thematic. That is, the readings aren't really arranged to make sense together, but just to guide our reading through the Old Testament, Epistles and Gospels. But God's written word is amazing and so rich that sometimes common threads can be found. Today, we meet in the readings three different hard-hearted people. Now, this is not exactly a surprise, hard-heartedness is a major theme in the Bible, simply because this particular cardiac condition is universal to human beings.
First we meet Pharaoh, the Bible's poster-child for hard-heartedness. It seems towards the middle of the reading, that perhaps the frogs had just gotten to ol' Pharaoh. Frogs in your bed and frogs in your food could cause even the toughest nut to crack. So, he calls Moses and tells him to get rid of the frogs and Moses, who is at this point showing off, asks "and what time would you like the frogs to go?" But when the frogs all die precisely when Pharaoh requested, he wasn't impressed. The trouble was over, ease had returned, he no longer saw a need to pay any attention to Moses.
"He hardened his heart, and would not listen to them." Twice we read that today. It tolls like a bell at the end of the plagues marking Pharaoh's decent deeper into his sin. It's Pharaoh catch phrase. "He hardened his heart, and would not listen to them." I think we find there the essence of what it means to have a hard heart. It means shutting yourself off, retreating into your pride and refusing to hear any message that contradicts what you want and what you supposedly need. The interesting thing is, it's not even just Moses and his God that Pharaoh is shutting out. Look closely at the Plague of the Gnats. It's his own magicians that he's refusing to listen to there. Pharaoh has decided that it is his way or the highway, and no one, not his enemies or his friends, not even the Most High God, can dissuade him otherwise. Now, we look to Pharaoh as sort of an arch-villain, the great hard-of-heart, but really he's not so exceptional, rather he's emblematic, an example of what all human beings are really like when they are shut off from God.
In Paul's second letter to Corinth, we read about a hard-minded people of Israel who also refuse to listen. They read Moses with a veil over their hearts, refusing to hear the words of Scriptures for what they really are. Again, we could just chalk up what Paul writes to Israel's perennial stubbornness, but just like Pharaoh they are not unique. We all go through life veiled to God's truth, refusing to hear what he has to say, because what he has to say is to much for us, it shakes our world to much. We, like Israel at the foot of Mt. Sinai, refuse to hear God's voice out of our fear.
But, we have Christ, who removes the veil.
Why then, do we still struggle with hardness of heart if we have met the one who removes the veil, who allows us to listen? Well, it's because even then, even after we encounter Jesus, we can still clutch the veil, still cherish our hard hearts, because that's where we are safe, where our assumptions and securities are not challenged. In the Gospel today, we read the familiar story of the Rich Young Ruler. Imagine coming to Jesus and hearing him say "You lack one thing." One thing! There was only one thing between the young man and God. Unfortunately, it was the one thing upon which his whole life, his whole identity was built. It was the one thing that he could not imagine living without, and so his heart was hardened and he turned away. For the Rich Young Ruler, to give up his wealth was to give up himself. Which is truly the one thing that is between all of us and God, the one thing we all need to give up, our selves. It's also the one thing that our hearts harden around.
What then is the solution, how do we get over our heart-hardness, so that we can give up that one thing, so the veil will be removed and we can behold the glory of Lord and be transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another? We cannot do it without God. With man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.
And the truly amazing thing is that God actually desires to give us new hearts, new hearts that love him. Through the prophet Ezekiel God says to his people, to us: "And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh." (Ezekiel 36:26) We need only come to him with the willingness to give up our "one thing" and he does the rest.
2 Corinthians 3:7-18
Mark 10:17-31
But when Pharaoh saw that there was a respite, he hardened his heart and would not listen to them, as the LORD had said.
The Daily Lectionary is generally not designed to be thematic. That is, the readings aren't really arranged to make sense together, but just to guide our reading through the Old Testament, Epistles and Gospels. But God's written word is amazing and so rich that sometimes common threads can be found. Today, we meet in the readings three different hard-hearted people. Now, this is not exactly a surprise, hard-heartedness is a major theme in the Bible, simply because this particular cardiac condition is universal to human beings.
First we meet Pharaoh, the Bible's poster-child for hard-heartedness. It seems towards the middle of the reading, that perhaps the frogs had just gotten to ol' Pharaoh. Frogs in your bed and frogs in your food could cause even the toughest nut to crack. So, he calls Moses and tells him to get rid of the frogs and Moses, who is at this point showing off, asks "and what time would you like the frogs to go?" But when the frogs all die precisely when Pharaoh requested, he wasn't impressed. The trouble was over, ease had returned, he no longer saw a need to pay any attention to Moses.
"He hardened his heart, and would not listen to them." Twice we read that today. It tolls like a bell at the end of the plagues marking Pharaoh's decent deeper into his sin. It's Pharaoh catch phrase. "He hardened his heart, and would not listen to them." I think we find there the essence of what it means to have a hard heart. It means shutting yourself off, retreating into your pride and refusing to hear any message that contradicts what you want and what you supposedly need. The interesting thing is, it's not even just Moses and his God that Pharaoh is shutting out. Look closely at the Plague of the Gnats. It's his own magicians that he's refusing to listen to there. Pharaoh has decided that it is his way or the highway, and no one, not his enemies or his friends, not even the Most High God, can dissuade him otherwise. Now, we look to Pharaoh as sort of an arch-villain, the great hard-of-heart, but really he's not so exceptional, rather he's emblematic, an example of what all human beings are really like when they are shut off from God.
In Paul's second letter to Corinth, we read about a hard-minded people of Israel who also refuse to listen. They read Moses with a veil over their hearts, refusing to hear the words of Scriptures for what they really are. Again, we could just chalk up what Paul writes to Israel's perennial stubbornness, but just like Pharaoh they are not unique. We all go through life veiled to God's truth, refusing to hear what he has to say, because what he has to say is to much for us, it shakes our world to much. We, like Israel at the foot of Mt. Sinai, refuse to hear God's voice out of our fear.
But, we have Christ, who removes the veil.
Why then, do we still struggle with hardness of heart if we have met the one who removes the veil, who allows us to listen? Well, it's because even then, even after we encounter Jesus, we can still clutch the veil, still cherish our hard hearts, because that's where we are safe, where our assumptions and securities are not challenged. In the Gospel today, we read the familiar story of the Rich Young Ruler. Imagine coming to Jesus and hearing him say "You lack one thing." One thing! There was only one thing between the young man and God. Unfortunately, it was the one thing upon which his whole life, his whole identity was built. It was the one thing that he could not imagine living without, and so his heart was hardened and he turned away. For the Rich Young Ruler, to give up his wealth was to give up himself. Which is truly the one thing that is between all of us and God, the one thing we all need to give up, our selves. It's also the one thing that our hearts harden around.
What then is the solution, how do we get over our heart-hardness, so that we can give up that one thing, so the veil will be removed and we can behold the glory of Lord and be transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another? We cannot do it without God. With man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.
And the truly amazing thing is that God actually desires to give us new hearts, new hearts that love him. Through the prophet Ezekiel God says to his people, to us: "And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh." (Ezekiel 36:26) We need only come to him with the willingness to give up our "one thing" and he does the rest.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Wednesday, the Fifth Week of Lent
Mark 10:1-16
It’s an image that seems to hang on the wall of just about every Sunday School classroom, Jesus blessing the children. In all the charm and quaintness of the story though, I think we sometimes miss the power of Jesus’ words: “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”
What is it though, that makes the child particularly worthy of the kingdom of God? We could talk about their innocence, trust, joy and simplicity. But that’s not what I think Jesus is getting at, especially since such an approach could lead to a work righteousness of being childlike. There is something more fundamental to childlikeness to which Jesus refers which actually opposes the idea that there is any way to earn our way into the kingdom. Children are by their very nature, needy, helpless beings. Look at the children in today’s reading. They are being brought to Jesus; they don’t even come under their own power. We receive the kingdom like a child when we receive it like one who is helplessly in need of the kingdom.
Isn’t that really what our Lenten devotion is about, recognizing our neediness and utter dependence on God. It was just a few weeks ago that we were all reminded that we are but dust, and, left to our own devices have no hope but to return to dust. That’s certainly neediness! In the coming weeks as we relive the lengths to which our Lord went to redeem His helpless people of dust may we all gain a fresh sense of our childlike need for God and draw even closer to Him who desires to take us in His arms and bless us, His little children.
Jesus, Friend of little children, Be a friend to me; Take my hand, and ever keep me close to Thee. Never leave me, nor forsake me; Ever be my friend; For I need Thee, from life’s dawning To its end.
(“Jesus, Friend of little children” by Waltar Mathams)
(“Jesus, Friend of little children” by Waltar Mathams)
[originally written for Trinity School for Ministry Lenten Devotional]
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Tuesday, the Fifth Week of Lent
I Corinthians 14:20-40
For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.
Now, what St. Paul is writing about here is worship. He's chastising the Corinthians for having wildly disorganized worship services. Without structure their gatherings have become mere disorder in which they all seem to be jockeying for position and prominence, each wanting their own hymn, their own tongue, their own bit of prophesy to be heard. For an Anglican the implications of this passage should thrill the heart. "All things should be done decently and in order" should cause us all to give a rousing "Amen!" as we reach for our prayer books.
It is in that context that Paul writes, "for God is not a God of confusion but of peace." Yet, even though I risk taking his words out of that context, I can't escape mining them for deeper meaning.
We live in an age of confusion; everything is confusing. Things that were once foundational to life, to existence itself, things which seemed unshakable, are now open to question and critique or even dismissed out-of-hand as antiquated and offensive. Family, marriage, the sanctity of life, the value of sacrifice, truth, God.
It is a world that is, in a certain way, much like the raucous Corinthian church. Everyone has a voice to be heard, an idea, an agenda, a truth, a prophesy, a vision and each demands that they be given equal validity to all others. And to refuse to value each equally is to be backward, close-minded, bigoted. How can all this be sorted out? Where does one find a place to stand when everything overwhelms? The answer, of course, is God, who is not a God of confusion but of peace. The confusion of our world is not from God, in fact, it is opposed to Him. Chaos has been His enemy since the beginning. In Him, we can stand against the confusion and chaos of our culture. God is a God of peace. We find Him in peace, and we find peace in Him. Peace is what He offers us in the midst of our confused world, and as his people, peace is precisely what we have to offer to our confused world.
So, among all the confused voices vying for our attention, what we must be about daily, and especially in Lent, is seeking God's peace, His calm. His peace overcomes even the most seemingly insurmountable confusion in our world, and indeed in our own lives. My hope is that this little effort will be blessed by God and through it He will speak to us some small measure of his peace.
The peace of the Lord, be always with you.
For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.
Now, what St. Paul is writing about here is worship. He's chastising the Corinthians for having wildly disorganized worship services. Without structure their gatherings have become mere disorder in which they all seem to be jockeying for position and prominence, each wanting their own hymn, their own tongue, their own bit of prophesy to be heard. For an Anglican the implications of this passage should thrill the heart. "All things should be done decently and in order" should cause us all to give a rousing "Amen!" as we reach for our prayer books.
It is in that context that Paul writes, "for God is not a God of confusion but of peace." Yet, even though I risk taking his words out of that context, I can't escape mining them for deeper meaning.
We live in an age of confusion; everything is confusing. Things that were once foundational to life, to existence itself, things which seemed unshakable, are now open to question and critique or even dismissed out-of-hand as antiquated and offensive. Family, marriage, the sanctity of life, the value of sacrifice, truth, God.
It is a world that is, in a certain way, much like the raucous Corinthian church. Everyone has a voice to be heard, an idea, an agenda, a truth, a prophesy, a vision and each demands that they be given equal validity to all others. And to refuse to value each equally is to be backward, close-minded, bigoted. How can all this be sorted out? Where does one find a place to stand when everything overwhelms? The answer, of course, is God, who is not a God of confusion but of peace. The confusion of our world is not from God, in fact, it is opposed to Him. Chaos has been His enemy since the beginning. In Him, we can stand against the confusion and chaos of our culture. God is a God of peace. We find Him in peace, and we find peace in Him. Peace is what He offers us in the midst of our confused world, and as his people, peace is precisely what we have to offer to our confused world.
So, among all the confused voices vying for our attention, what we must be about daily, and especially in Lent, is seeking God's peace, His calm. His peace overcomes even the most seemingly insurmountable confusion in our world, and indeed in our own lives. My hope is that this little effort will be blessed by God and through it He will speak to us some small measure of his peace.
The peace of the Lord, be always with you.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Feast of the Annuciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
It is a good day for beginnings.
Today the church marks the Feast of the Annunciation, the day when God first took on flesh and dwelt among us. Today is the day when God, the great creator of the universe, the one who divided day from night, heaven from earth, land from sea, poured his divinity into a few dividing cells, the weakest and most helpless of all weak and helpless humanity, utterly dependent on the faith and love and hospitality of a little girl. It was the beginning of the great new phase of God’s dealings with humanity promised so long ago in the garden. This is the day when God came to the very woman whose seed would crush the head of the serpent.
Yet, all of this, all of this new and monumental beginning, hangs on one moment, the moment of decision for Mary. You see, the thing about new beginnings, is that they always come on the heels of endings. The encounter with the Archangel, marks, for better or worse, the end of Mary’s life as she knew it. As soon as the message has been delivered she must decide to accept or reject it, but whatever she does, she cannot just keep on living like she always had. On this day, Mary met what is the quintessential Christian experience. Each of us comes to that moment when we must either accept or reject Christ’s entry into our lives, our very beings. The thing is, if we do, in that moment, decide to accept, it only means that we will spend our lives meeting similar points of decision. Mary did. What do you think it was that she was always pondering in her heart? I’m sure it was the daily Christian decision to maintain faithfulness and obedience, the daily decision to take God’s path even though it means leaving our own. We might call that losing one’s life in order to save it. We might call it bearing one’s cross and following Christ.
Today is the day when the first such decision was made by the first follower of Christ, when the first life was lost in order to be saved, when the first cross was taken up. Today is a good day for beginnings.
And so I begin this work, wherever it may lead. I have just reached myself, a moment like Mary’s, in which the path I was on abruptly ended and I had to decide to accept God’s message or reject it. There was no option to simply ignore it and go on, there never is. The path must change. I suspect the end goal remains the same, but only if I now accept God’s message. I am not without fear, I am not without confusion, I am not with doubt, I am not without disappointment, I am not even without anger but I know that I am also not without God. I know that the same Spirit, who overshadowed the one full of grace, fills me as well. I know that the same God that was with her is with me, the same Emmanuel. And so I pray that with her I might also be able to utter in tones pained but powerful, those life changing, world changing words, those words which cry in defiance against all the voices of the world, flesh and devil which shout “Injustice!” and “Insult!”and seek to get me to force my own way, those words which the Mother of Christians first uttered today, and which so many of her children have uttered so many times since.
“Behold, the servant of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word.”
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