Moving on Up -- a Lectionary Reflection for the Second Sunday of Lent

Genesis 12:1-4a



Romans 4:1-5, 13-17


John 3:1-17

Moving on Up . . .

You can’t see the Kingdom of God without being “born from above.” So says Jesus to Nicodemus (John 3:3). That phrase “born from above” might be a key to understanding the journey of faith. We are by nature physical beings, but by grace we become spiritual beings. By faith we are enabled, as we allow the Spirit, who like the wind, blows where it likes, without us being able to control it. If we’re willing to allow grace to bless us, then our lives might be transformed so that we can participate in God’s work of transforming the world that God loves. If being part of the realm of God means being “born from above,” then most assuredly the path of faith is an upward track. While this path may lead upward, it needs to be said that most often it first goes into the valley.

In approaching these three lectionary texts for the second Sunday of Lent, my thoughts are being pushed in interesting directions from my concurrent readings in Richard Rohr’s Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life (Jossey Bass, advanced proof). Rohr speaks of the reality that faces us all – that we will fall before we rise.

So we must stumble and fall, I am sorry to say. And that does not mean reading about falling, as you are doing here. We must actually be out of the driver’s seat for a while, or we’ll never learn how to give up control to the Real Guide. It is the necessary pattern. (P. 66).

The journey we are taking, should we chose the way of the Spirit of God, won’t be an easy one. Consider the journey of Abraham and Sarah, after God calls him. Yes, he receives a promise and a purpose, but it’s not all smooth sailing. God calls Paul on the Damascus Road, he’s blinded and then healed, but it’s not all smooth sailing for him either. As for Jesus, he hears the call and takes up the mantle of God, but his path leads to a cross before it leads to resurrection. Suffering is part of the course of life. We must go down, in order to move up. The cross comes before resurrection. If we’re to experience the fullness of God’s promises we must understand this reality.

Our journey starts with a promise to Abram. God says – go to a new country and I’ll make for you many descendants and you we’ll be blessed so that you might be a blessing to the nations. That’s pretty good news, but it demands a sacrifice. Abram must leave behind his home and his family in order to receive the blessings. But Abram went by faith. But, he doesn’t go alone. In this particular set of verses, we don’t read Sarai’s name, but this is a partnership. There will be no descendants without her. The promise made to Abram and Sarai is really one of the most important statements in scripture, because it sets the context for the rest of the story. Christians come into the story as heirs of the promise to Abraham by grace, for we are not direct descendants of Abraham and Sarah. But then again, as we’ll see, even Abraham and Sarah and their descendants don’t earn this promise, but instead receive it by grace. It is grace that enables them to receive the call of righteousness by faith.

In many ways Romans 4 is a commentary on the Genesis 12 passage. According to Paul, the call of Abraham is not something that has been earned. Abraham is our ancestor, not because of works, but simply because Abraham believed God. Now what does this mean? “Abraham believed God.” Does that mean that God gave Abraham some kind of ordination exam with a set of questions that needed proper answers lest he be rejected? That doesn’t seem to be the case. Abraham isn’t justified – made right before God – because of the Law. Remember the Law doesn’t come until later. No, it’s a matter of faith, and again faith isn’t assent to a set of doctrines, but is simply trust. Abraham heard the call to leave behind family and friends and security so that he could follow God’s lead into Canaan.

It’s important that as we hear Paul place the Law behind Faith, we don’t hear him denigrate the value of Law. For Paul the Law its place, but it’s not the end game. Again, turning to Richard Rohr, who speaks of life’s two halves, the first half has to do with identity formation and security. It’s a question of ordering one’s life, and most assuredly the Law helps with this task. In the second half of life, we can begin to take risks and journeys beyond secure boundaries, but as Rohr suggest, “maybe they cannot answer a second call because they have not yet completed the first task.” He then goes on to write:

Unless you build your first house well, you will never leave it. To build your house well is, ironically, to be nudged beyond its doors (p. 23).

We have to fulfill at least a large part of the first half tasks before we’re ready to move on. Apparently Abraham was ready to take the next step. So was Paul. The point is, that if adherence to the Law is all that is required, then faith is of little value. If Law is the end, then what we have is a rather risk-averse life. The Law has its place, for as Rohr writes, “without law in some form, and also without butting up against the law, we cannot move forward easily and naturally” (p. 25). To live by faith is to take that step outside the doors, to butt up against the walls that try to keep us inside, and being to fly, to test the waters, and live by the Spirit.

This brings us to the gospel lesson from John. The text itself doesn’t speak to the Abraham paradigm that is present in the two texts from Genesis and Romans, but John pushes us to think outside the box. Nicodemus comes to Jesus, seeking wisdom (we would assume), but Jesus throws him for a loop with his talk of being born from above if he should want to see God’s kingdom. Like most of us, Nicodemus is thinking in very material terms. How can I be reborn from my mother’s womb? But, Jesus is speaking in spiritual not material terms. He’s moving beyond the first half concerns of rules and boundaries and identities to the life in the Spirit, where we test boundaries and allow God to move in and through us so we might reach our full potential as God’s children. Jesus first says – if you want to see the realm of God you have to be born from above – that is, born from heaven. Then he ups the ante, and says – if you want to enter the Kingdom then you will have to be “born of water and Spirit.” Traditionally, this phrase has been taken to refer to baptism, but I’m convinced that in context the point isn’t baptism, but rather a contrast between physical birth (water) and spiritual birth. Both are necessary, for we are born of the flesh, but if we’re open then we can also be born of the Spirit as well. To enter the kingdom we must experience this spiritual birth, and when it comes to the Spirit, the wind blows where it will. We don’t control it, and it will push us outside the box.

In this conversation, as John tells the story, Jesus moves onto a discussion of what it means to fall upward. No one has ascended to heaven, he says, except the one who has descended from heaven – the Son of Man. But the one who has descended must be lifted up, even as Moses lifted up the serpent, so that whoever would believe might have eternal life. And what does it mean to believe? Again, I don’t think it means signing on the dotted doctrinal line, but rather trusting in the one who seeks to take us on a journey of faith – the Spirit of God. Our hope lies then in the one sent by God who loves the world, so that whoever trusts in the one God has sent might not perish but have eternal life, which as Richard Beck notes, may have less to do with quantity of time as it does with quality of life in God.

The question that these texts raise concerns whether we’re ready to move on up into the heavenly realm? Are we ready to follow the Spirit and live outside the box? Have we formed/been formed in such a way that our identities are secure enough that we can leave the nest and follow the Spirit into new opportunities to be in partnership with God in loving the world? And we do so by faith, knowing that the wind of the Spirit blows where ever it wills!



On the Mountain with God -- Lectionary Meditation

Exodus 24:12-18


2 Peter 1:16-21


Matthew 17:1-9

On the Mountain with God

I grew up in the shadow of the Cascade Mountains. From the age of 3 to 9 I lived at the foot of one of the great mountains in America, the majestic Mount Shasta, a 14,160 foot double coned volcano that exudes mystery. I never climbed Mount Shasta, but I have climbed a few other shorter Cascade peaks, and so I understand the draw that mountains can have on people. There is something powerful and awe-inspiring about standing at the top of the mountain and looking out across the landscape. You see the handiwork of God very differently from high up in the mountains, standing above tree-line, where nothing is able to take hold except a few of the hardiest plants. The air is thin, cold, and clear. You feel as if you can touch the sky and even reach through the thin membrane separating heaven and earth and touch the things of God.

From my own experience living among the mountains I can understand why people from time immemorial have gone to the mountains to encounter God. In the biblical story, we see people going to the mountain, from Moses to Elijah to Jesus, and there upon the mountains God is encountered, and lives are changed. In this week’s lectionary texts we go to the mountains to meet God. With Moses we go into the presence of God on Mt. Sinai, and with Jesus we go to the mountain where he is transfigured before our eyes and God speaks to him from the cloud of presence.

We begin with Moses who receives a call from God to go to the mountain and receive the tablets of the law, which God has written for their instruction. And so he takes Joshua, and after leaving Aaron and Hur in charge, heads for the mountain. As Moses climbs the mountain, a cloud begins to envelope it, so that the “Glory of the Lord settled upon Mount Sinai.” They wait, presumably on the edge of the cloud for six days. On the seventh day, with the Glory of the Lord sitting on the mountain having the appearance of a devouring fire, God invites Moses to enter the cloud. As I read this description I have in mind the forest fires I remember seeing coming down the side of Mount Shasta as a child. They were far enough away that I didn’t have to worry, but the flames were large enough to get your attention. You can imagine the feeling of the people down below. Moses and Joshua have gone up the mountain, which is now engulfed in flame. Will they ever return? What will happen to us? Yes, I can only imagine. But then, Moses went up into the cloud and ascended the mountain, and there he spent forty days and forty nights. With this the passage ends – though if you continue reading you discover that it is in this forty day period that God reveals to Moses God’s desires for the people of Israel. All the directions for the creation of the Tabernacle and ordination of priests and more are revealed, as Moses is with God on the mountain.

Most assuredly Moses is transformed by this encounter with God, though we later learn that when Moses emerges from the cloud his face shines so much that he must keep himself veiled. Paul suggests that over time the glow faded, but Moses kept the veil so as to cover up the loss of this sign of God’s presence.

2 Peter is one of those interesting texts. It claims to be written by one of Jesus’ closest friends and colleagues, though most scholars believe that it comes from a much later time, perhaps into the 2nd century. In this letter Peter writes that he was an eyewitness of God’s majesty and that of Jesus. We were there, he says, when God spoke: “This is my son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Yes, we were with him on the mountain. So, listen to our testimony. Listen to our interpretation – for “no scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation.” Prophecies come not by human will, but by people moved by the Holy Spirit to speak for God. I think that the author of this letter is pulling something of a power play – I was there when God spoke to Jesus, therefore, listen to my interpretation of Scripture, for Scriptures aren’t the matter of one’s own interpretation. Still, despite this almost unseemly display, we hear in it a word of witness to the encounters the people of God have on the mountain, encounters that can be life changing.

Finally we come to Matthew’s account of the Transfiguration. Note that Jesus goes up the mountain after six days – is this reflective of Moses’ ascent to Mount Sinai? Of course, we need to go back a chapter to see that according to Matthew, it was six days earlier that Peter made the Good Confession, declaring that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah and Son of God (Mt. 16:16). Even as Moses took Joshua with him, Jesus took three of his closest associates – Peter, James, and John – with him up the mountain. There he was “transfigured” or transformed before their eyes so that his face shown like the sun and his clothes became a dazzling white. There is similarity to Moses’ encounter, but here, the transformation seems to be less a reflection of the encounter, but it emerges from within. It is, one could say, an unveiling of the glory of the Lord that is already present in Jesus. Then and only then do Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, appear and are seen talking with Jesus. It has been suggested that Moses and Elijah are seen here as transcendent beings, people who are caught up into heaven without dying.

Peter sees all this and being something of an impulsive sort (the reason we like him so much) decides he has to do something. So, he offers to set up tents for the three conversation partners – or perhaps these are designed to be shrines. He recognizes that something powerful is happening and that Jesus must be someone of transcendent importance if he is standing in the presence of Moses and Elijah.

It is at this moment that a cloud overshadows them – as on the Mountain of Sinai – and from the cloud comes a voice that states: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Words that we the reader have encountered earlier in Matthew at the baptism of Jesus, but now they are repeated to fuller effect. At this the three disciples fall on their faces in fear. Jesus sees them, touches them (I find this to be a most poignant statement) and picks them up and tells them not to be afraid. Jesus does that a lot – telling his followers not to fear. It is at this point that they discover that Jesus is alone. Having had this encounter they head back down the mountain – not with stone tablets, but with a new sense of wonder and awe at the person they are called to accompany. For his part, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone about what happened on the mountain until after the Son of Man had been raised from the dead.

As we reflect on these three texts that depict powerful encounters with God, encounters that are transformative, it is appropriate for us to ask of ourselves – in what way are we transformed by our encounters with the transcendent God? What are our mountain top experiences? From the looks of the rest of Matthew’s narrative, the disciples still don’t understand, even after their mountain top experiences. Are we any different? Does the wonder begin to wear off once we're back into the thick of things?  Do we forget with whom we walk?  May we be thankful for God’s patience!

We're Not Forgotten -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 49:8-16a



1 Corinthians 4:1-5


Matthew 6:24-34

We're Not Forgotten!

One of humanity's greatest fears is to be forgotten. Whether we're extroverts or introverts, we want to know that someone cares about whether we live or die. The words Jesus is said to have uttered from the Cross, words that come to us from Psalm 22, express clearly our fears:

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;

and by night, but I find no rest. (Ps. 22:1-2).

The promise of Scripture is that God does not forget. Even when we feel alone and despondent, God is present with us. These are words that give hope and solace in difficult times, when we feel as if God has forgotten us. Such words don't make the journey less arduous, but they provide a sense of strength. But the Scriptures that remind us that we're not alone, also remind us that God comes to us in community. The two go together.

As we listen to the voices speaking to us from the week's lectionary texts, we hear this reminder that God is present, but we also hear, especially in the Pauline text, a reminder that God is present in and through the community. The latter voice may be subtle, but it is there, in the words about trust. Indeed, community rests on the foundation of trust.

As we most often do, we start with the voice that speaks to us from the first testament. Here is the voice of the prophet who speaks to us from out of the exile, speaking to people who have experienced desolation, who have experienced imprisonment. They were a people without a home. This is a word that resonates with many living in our own time, people feeling the pangs of decreased value in homes, salaries, and retirements, unemployment and foreclosure, along with rising prices in other areas of life. There is great uncertainty about the future. Revolutions in the Middle East and the expansion of globalization. There is the reality that the gap between the richest members of society and the poorest is growing, while the middle class is shrinking. We know the darkness. It surrounds us. We feel it every day.

But even as Isaiah gives voice to our sense of being alone and forsaken, the prophet speaks a word of hope and salvation. A light will shine in the darkness. Songs of joy will erupt from the people. Indeed, they will feed from the bare heights and experience neither hunger nor thirst, neither scorching wind sun nor will the sun strike them down. This is because the Lord will lead them to pasture and flowing waters. The impassable mountains will become roads and the people will come from North and West to reinhabit the land. We may feel forgotten, but as the prophet states on behalf of God, "Can a woman forget her nursing child or show no compassion for her child?" Yes, we might find examples, but like the compassionate and committed mother, the Lord will not forget, for the Lord has "inscribed you on the palms of my hand."

All is not darkness. There is hope, for God is with us. But we know that there is need for God's presence to be tangible. We are not created to be alone - as the second creation account makes clear - God discerned that it was not good for the man to be alone (Gen. 2:18) and so God created a partner who fit with him, to share life in all its forms with him. Paul's brief words from 1 Corinthians 4 don't speak directly to the issue of forsakenness or community, but it is implicit in the words spoken to the people of this congregation. Indeed, the entire letter is focused on helping this people live together in a way that is healing and empowering. The focus is on Paul's claim to be a servant of Christ and a steward of God's mysteries. He knows nothing that can be held against him - nothing worth taking to court. As far as he is concerned, God alone is able to judge. The word is - don't pronounce judgment before the Lord comes, for it is the Lord who brings light to our darkness. In this case it is a light that illuminates the things that are done in darkness. Although the Pauline text is not as directly related to the themes present in the word from the prophets or from the Gospels, there is a word here this important. It is the word "trustworthy." For the community to be a place of healing and hope, so that we needn't walk this path alone, there needs to be trust, and as we know trust has become scarce in our day. The wary forward requires that the people of God become trust-builders. It is not an easy path. It requires that we not fall into cynicism and suspicion, but rather leave the judging and the revealing to God. Yes, be discerning, but do so prayerfully and carefully, so that the community might exist for the good of the world, that together we might all be servants of Christ and stewards of God's mysteries.

Finally we come to the Gospel. It is another passage from the Sermon on the Mount, though the lectionary skips from the end of chapter five into the middle of chapter six. The words about worship and prayer are set aside, so that we might hear a word that connects with the first text. It is a call to put one's trust in God. We worry, Jesus says, because we seek to serve two masters. But you can't do this. You can't serve God and the pursuit of wealth. One of the most scandalous parts of the Gospel is Jesus' constant challenge to people of wealth. He loves them and encourages them, but he also challenges them to let go of the pursuit of things that don't matter in the kingdom of God.

As we listen to this radical voice we are put in a difficult position. This is no capitalist God who is calling us into communion. We're not being encouraged to buy the latest car or fashion or to worry about what we'll eat or drink. There's no need to do this because worry doesn't do anything. I can't produce anything of value. It simply puts us in a position of enslavement. I hear this word, this call to seek God's realm, and yet I have a house payment, car payments, insurance bills, and the need to put food on the table. Over all I'm fortunate. The darkness hasn't closed in on me - though I've known the times when darkness seemed close at hand - perhaps not to the extent of so many others, but I know the feeling. So what do we make of this word from Jesus that tells us that we can't add an hour to our lives by worrying about what we'll eat or wear.

How do we respond to the premise that God knows our needs and will provide. What is it that God will provide and how will God provide? I'm cognizant of the word that was given to the Thessalonians who in their anticipation of the return of Christ seem to have gone off to the hillside to wait for the big event. The word comes - if you don't work, you don't eat (2 Thess. 2:6ff). So, is Jesus suggesting we simply sit and wait for God to come and give us food and clothes? I'm not so sure. Is Jesus providing a foundation for that innocuous Bobby McFerrin tune - "Don't Worry, Be Happy"? Some how I don't think that's the point. It is not a call to put one's head in the sand, but instead it's a call to get one's priorities in the right place.

In the end the word seems to be this: God is present with us on the journey, so that even as a mother would not forget her child, so God will not forget us. There is a trustworthiness present here that we are called to acknowledge. God has made a covenant and God is true to God's covenant. It is to this covenant that we are called to be servants and stewards, so that even as God is trustworthy, so might we, even as we seek the reign of God. When we do this, everything will fall into place. Thus, there is no need to worry about tomorrow. Instead, let us take care of today's challenges, which are sufficient for the day.

What DOES God Want? Lectionary Meditations

Micah 6:1-8



1 Corinthians 1:18-31


Matthew 5:1-12

What DOES God Want?

What is it that God wants from us? Is it our money? Our obeisance? Our unwavering belief in the Bible, without having any doubts whatsoever? Is it esoteric knowledge or hidden wisdom? Down through the centuries we have asked the question – what does God want? In the course of time, we’ve also been given lots of answers, some of which are conflicting and some to the minds of many, especially in this modern age, purely nonsensical. Consider the practice of child sacrifice – what kind of God would demand child sacrifice? (Oh, I may need to be careful with this one!) What of temple prostitution? Is God some kind of voyeur who needs to get sexually aroused to give us children or bless our fields? I realize that the Law offers strict guidelines as to which sacrifices should be offered, when they should be offered, and in what manner they should be offered, but the prophets all seem to be of one mind even though religious ritual and offerings of grain and oil and even the fatted calf might have their place, what really matters is that we act with justice, mercy, and loving kindness. Yes, God is less interested in our religious rites and more concerned with how we treat one another.

The three texts that stand before us this week, all of which in one way or another are well known to Christians, seeks to answer the question: What is it that God wants from us. Micah 6:8 is, of course, a favorite of the social justice crowd, while 1 Corinthians 1:18 would seem to speak to those who have put the atonement high on their list of important doctrines. As for the Beatitudes – shall we spiritualize them or should we understand that the poverty and the meekness, the persecution and grieving is all too real?

We begin this reflection with the reading from the Hebrew Bible. Its closing verse is well known to many Christians for it answers quite directly the question – what does God want? There in seemingly bold print, Micah 6:8 declares that God wants justice, mercy, kindness, and humility. But while this passage speaks powerfully to us, we need to hear it in context.

The prophet begins this chapter with a listing of God’s charges against Israel. God tells the people to plead their case before the mountains and the hills. Yes, God has a beef with you them. God says to the people with whom he’s in this dispute – How have I wearied you? What have I done to you that you respond this way? Don’t you remember that I brought you out of Egyptian slavery? Don’t you remember that when things were difficult I sent Moses, Aaron and Miriam to you? (I need to point out here the inclusion of Miriam). Remember how Balaam undermined Balaak of Moab’s plans against you? Do you remember? So, why are you not following my precepts?

The people respond – with what shall I come before you? Do you want burnt offerings? Do you want an offering of fatted calves? What about 1000 rams or 10,000 rivers of oil? Indeed, will an offering of my first born – the “fruit of my body for the sin of my soul” -- suffice to turn your anger from me? In other words, what religious rituals do you demand?

The response from God cuts in a very different direction – religious rituals and sacrificial offerings are irrelevant. Here is what the Lord wants from you – “to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.” This is all God asks – love your neighbor and you will show your love for God. And with this call I’m reminded of Tom Oord’s definition of love:

“To love is to act intentionally, in sympathetic/empathetic response to God, to promote overall well-being.” (The Nature of Love, p. 17).

What does God want from us? God wants us to be committed to promoting the overall well-being of the Creation.

In 1 Corinthians 1 Paul continues the conversation about what it is that God desires from us, though the language changes somewhat. Here the target isn’t religious ritual, but worldly wisdom. Paul speaks on behalf of God: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart” (1 Cor. 1:19). This is a passage that some, including me, will struggle with, for it seems to suggest that the Christian faith is anti-intellectual. That is, however, not what Paul would want us to hear (I don’t think – hopefully). Instead, he suggests that what the world considers foolish – the cross – God considers wise. He notes that while the Jews want signs and the Greeks wisdom, all Christians have to proclaim is the cross, which is a stumbling block to one group and foolishness to another. And yet, to those who wish to have their lives transformed, the message of the Cross is full of the power of God’s wisdom. You may not be powerful, you may not be strong, you may not be of high estate, but that need not be a problem, for God’s wisdom, strength, and stature is sufficient for righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. So, if you must boast, boast in the one who was crucified – the one who experienced complete powerlessness, and yet in this reveals the righteousness of God.

Finally we come to the Beatitudes, and return to the mountain. Jesus is depicted here in this moment as the new law-giver, the new Moses, the one who brings God’s directives to humanity. In Micah, the people are commanded to make their defense to the mountains, and here the mountains bear witness to God’s new word. Actually it’s not a new word, but a reaffirmation and reapplying of God’s longstanding commitment to the well-being of the creation. Now, we can, if we wish, spiritualize these first statements of blessings into the “Be Happy Attitudes,” but to turn these into expressions of positive confession would be a mistake. It would also be a mistake to turn these blessings into requirements – so that we must earn God’s blessings by experiencing poverty and grief, persecution and humiliation. It is not something that we pursue, as if we’re seeking after martyrdom, but it is a description of reality in the world. As God engages this world, Jesus promises us that God has chosen to bless those whom society relegates to the sidelines (at best).

The blessings that Matthew presents are the gifts of God bestowed on those who are not rich and powerful in this life. It is a statement that in contrast to the way the world usually works; God isn’t inclined to bless the strong and the powerful, the acquisitive and the violent. But instead, God reaches out to bless the poor and the meek, those who mourn and those hunger and thirst for justice, the merciful, pure in heart and those who seek to be peacemakers, those who are persecuted – whether for righteousness or for the sake of the Christ. And the blessings are all wrapped up in experiencing firsthand the realm of God. The phrase in Matthew is Kingdom of Heaven, but we make a mistake if we assume that these blessings of the Kingdom are reserved for some other life, beyond this one. Consider the promise that the meek “will inherit the earth.” And if we understand the prayer Jesus taught the disciples, God’s will is being done on earth as in heaven – there is therefore no bifurcation between the two. To follow Jesus is not an opiate, but a call to live out the new law of love that Jesus is revealing from the mountain of God. But remember, walking humbly with God means that suffering may likely continue. There may be blessing and happiness, but it is to be found in the midst of this life, with its suffering, even as we work to transform the world in which we find ourselves? For as Jesus says, if you’re persecuted, remember that you stand in a long line of those who have experienced persecution, a line that takes you back to the prophets of old. .

So what DOES God want? God wants us to remember that we live in a world that is filled with suffering and injustice and unhappiness, and God wishes us to devote our lives to transforming this reality. Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist monk who has thought deeply about the relationship of the Buddha and Jesus points out that both the Buddha and Jesus understood that life involved suffering, and that both sought to provide a way out of it. He writes:

We too must learn to live in ways that reduce the world’s suffering. Suffering is always there, around us and inside us, and we have to find ways that alleviate the suffering and transform it into well-being and peace. (Living Buddha, Living Christ, Riverhead Books, 1995, pp. 48-49).

 

In this we will find blessings, for that is the promise of God, who has been revealed to us in the crucified one – Jesus the Christ.

Called to Testify -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 49:1-7



1 Corinthians 1:1-9

John 1:29-42

Called to Testify

I’m aware that this weekend the nation I call home will honor the memory and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We will observe this moment with a cloud hanging over us, the cloud of an attack on a Congresswoman that left six dead, including a nine-year-old girl who was committed to creating a better world. This attack on one of our nation’s brightest leaders reminds us of the darkness that is present in the world. It was a darkness that Dr. King testified against with words and with deeds. In the end, he was assassinated, but his message lives on in the hearts of those who will hear this voice. Dr. King began his career as a civil rights leader, speaking out clearly against segregation and discrimination that was rife in our land. As time went on, he expanded his message to include giving voice to the concerns of those caught in poverty, and he lent his voice in support of the effort to end the war in Vietnam. Martin Luther King was a prophet deeply rooted in what is known as the Social Gospel. He understood that while sin was present in the heart of the individual, it was also present in the systems of society. One could not change the realities of life, without changing the systems of oppression. He was one who heard the call to bear witness to God’s love for the entirety of creation.

It is with the vigil for those wounded and killed in Tucson on our minds, along with the observance of Dr. King’s birthday, that we come to these three texts scheduled for the Second Sunday after Epiphany. These texts, each in their own way, remind us that this is a season where we focus on the ways in which God is manifest in the world in and through Jesus Christ. These passages of Scripture speak of our calling to bear witness to this presence in the world, to lift up the light that is God’s presence, and make this light known to the nations. As I read these three texts together, I hear in the first passage, from Isaiah, a statement concerning God’s providence in choosing – in the original context – Israel to bear witness of God’s goodness to the nations. From there we turn to Paul who reminds us that we have been gifted for this calling to bear witness, and finally we hear the witness of John the Baptist and Andrew to the mission and purpose of Jesus of Nazareth.

In Isaiah 49 we encounter once again the words of this prophet of the Babylonian exile, who speaks of God’s providential choice to call him (or is it Israel itself?) to this ministry of witness. Whether the intended recipient of this call is the prophet, Israel, Jesus, or even we who hear the call of God in our own time, the call is to be God’s servant, and the call has come even before birth. As is often the case, the prophet protests the call, though in this case it appears that the prophet feels as if the effort has proven to be in vain – “I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity.” Although at first blush, the prophet feels as if all of this has been in vain, the prophet is reminded that God is with this cause. And the nature of the cause? Not just to bring back the survivors of Israel to their ancestral home – the opening lines remind us of the scattering of Israel – that would be too easy, too “light a thing.” No, God would gather the people to their homeland so that they might be a light to the nations, so that God’s “salvation shall reach the ends of the earth.” Then, the nations would bow before the Lord and bring glory to God. This is the intent of God, as understood by this prophet, who sees more for God’s people than simply existing as a small country in a big world.

If Isaiah speaks of God’s intention to prepare a people to bear witness to God’s presence, then Paul takes up the issue of means. That is, Paul opens his letter to the Corinthian church, whom he speaks of as having been “called to be God’s people” in Jesus Christ. Having received this call, they have been “made rich through him in everything.” That is, they are not missing any spiritual gifts necessary so that they might bear witness about Christ until the time of his revealing. And this calling, for which they have been properly gifted or equipped (and Paul talks in great detail later in this letter about the nature of this giftedness), they are “called to partnership with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” This is an important word, this word about partnership. It’s a reminder that the life of faith isn’t a passive one. It’s not something that we simply let God do to us or through us, but which involves us in active participation. We’re not simply tubes through which God’s love passes through to our neighbors, without any input on our part (see Tom Oord, The Nature of Love, Chalice Press, p. 37). God has chosen to use us and to equip us, so that a light might be shared with the nations.

Finally we reach John’s gospel, which revisits Jesus’ baptism and calling by John and the calling of the first disciples. This passage from John’s Gospel pictures John the Baptist standing with two of his own disciples, and declaring to them: “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the World!” In making this testimony to Jesus, John submits his own ministry to that of Jesus. His baptism had been one of water, but it was a baptism that prepared the way for the one on whom the Spirit rested. Yes, this is God’s Son. Hearing this testimony, the two disciples leave John and go to Jesus. I’m not sure whether this was John’s intent, but the two disciples seemed to understand that if they were going to remain engaged in this work of God, then they would need to attach themselves to the one to whom John had borne witness. Having made a connection with Jesus, Andrew, one of these two former disciples of John, goes to his brother, Simon, and bears witness to what he has seen and discovered in Jesus. John points to Jesus and says – “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the World.” There he is, the one who will restore justice and mercy in the world, but the use of the imagery of the lamb takes to the end of the gospel, where Jesus becomes the Passover lamb. At this moment, the takeaway by Andrew is that “We have found the Messiah.” And when he makes this discovery he feels compelled to share it with his brother, and Simon, himself, feels compelled to come to Jesus. In response, Jesus puts his claim on Simon by giving him a new name – Cephas or Peter. I find it interesting that John makes the translation from Aramaic to Greek, but the imagery of this name change is left ambiguous. Unlike Matthew, we’re not given Simon’s confession (Matthew 16:16), but obviously in John’s mind, something happened in this exchange that placed the mantle on this new disciple.

So here is the question for us this day – to what have we been called to testify? What is this calling, and what are the gifts?

The Light of God Arises -- A Meditation for Epiphany

Epiphany Times Three -- Kathrin Burleson

Isaiah 60

When the darkness covers the earth, and we feel hope ebbing away, we are tempted to give up and let fate have its way. Why bother with life? Why try to make things better? One’s enemies lie round about, undermining everything one wishes to do. It is a common feeling. It can permeate a family wrestling with financial crises or medical ones. It could be a church that has experienced continued decline and doesn’t see how it can be a redemptive and transformative presence in the world. It can be a community – large or small – whose best days seem long past, and now the nay-sayers have taken hold, keeping the community from moving forward. When the clouds hang round about us, when we’re unable to see the sun and the stars and the moon, and wonder about the future, we hear a word from the prophet:

Arise, shine; for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

For darkness shall cover the earth,

and thick darkness the peoples;

but the Lord will arise upon you,

and his glory will appear over you. (Is. 60:1-2)

Today we come to celebrate the Day of Epiphany, the manifestation of the Light that is God, a light that shines our darkness, so that we no longer need to depend on the Sun or on the Moon, but we can trust in God.

This post-exilic prophet speaks to a people who had been scattered and now have received the invitation to return home, they’re lit by the light that is God. There is a bit of triumphalism in this passage, for the vision includes statements about foreigners building up the walls of the city and the nations bringing their wealth to Jerusalem as tribute. It is a common vision for a people who have been suppressed and oppressed, but perhaps we could extend the vision some and instead of seeing the conquerors becoming supplicants, we can see in it a vision of a partnership between peoples. As the Light of God rises in our midst, we can put aside our need either for revenge or for control, but instead engage each other as equals, building a new city, the city of God.

On this Day of Epiphany may we bask in the light that is God. May we allow this light to permeate all the dark corners of our lives, exposing those areas of our existence that keep us from experiencing and expressing the love that is God. And in the end, we will express our trust in the one who says:

I am the Lord;

in its time I will accomplish it quickly. (Isaiah 60:22b).

With Isaiah’s vision in our minds, we turn to remember the one, whom Christians hail as the one who manifests the light and glory of God on earth, Jesus the Christ. May his light shine in our darkness, revealing the love and the grace and the glory that is God. And if we’re willing to receive this light into our lives, may we join together in building a world that is full of light and not darkness, a place where good will and peace reigns over all, and that this peace and this good will shall come not from military might, but through persistent but loving action in pursuit of the justice of God.

Joy to the World –Spiritual Blessings for All -- Lectionary Meditation for 2nd Sunday after Christmas

Jeremiah 31:7-14


Ephesians 1:3-14

John 1:10-18

Joy to the World –

Spiritual Blessings for All

As we meander toward the end of the Christmas season, which according to the commercial calendar began more than a month ago, if not sooner. The carols have all been sung, the presents opened, unacceptable presents have been returned, the trees and decorations have started to come down, and we have begun to focus on the coming new year, when all things become new. The liturgical calendar, however, won’t let us move on quite yet. Yes, according to the liturgical calendar we’re still in the season of Christmas. The texts for this second Sunday of Christmas (unless you decided to skip this day and move to Epiphany a few days early) speak in one way or another of the spiritual blessings that God has chosen to bestow upon God’s people, and the Ephesian letter and the Gospel of John root these blessings quite directly in the person of Jesus Christ. Therefore, as the prophet Jeremiah says to us – sing for joy and make your praises heard.

The Gospel lesson for the first Sunday after Christmas for this year comes from Matthew 2:13-23, a passage that speaks of the slaughter of the innocents and the flight of the Holy Family into exile in Egypt, from which they later return, bypassing Bethlehem and heading to Nazareth in Galilee. This theme of returning from exile appears in the Jeremiah passage, where the prophet invites the remnant people of Israel to sing for joy and make their praises heard, as they call out to God, asking that God would save this remnant. In answer, the prophet says, the Lord will bring the people home from the land to the north and gather them from the ends of the earth. Everyone, the blind, the lame, the expectant mothers and those who are in labor at this very moment, yes a great throng of people will return to the land. And the message is this – God will be with them – continuing the message that we heard from Isaiah 7 in a previous Sunday – and God will lead them along streams of water (so they don’t thirst) and God will make their path level so they don’t stumble. Again, don’t you hear in this word from the prophet the promises that were heard during the Advent season, as we heard the story of the one who would prepare the way of the Lord. Now, it is the Lord who will prepare the way for God’s people to return home, and then will serve as the shepherd for this people, protecting and delivering them from the hand of the ones who are stronger than they. And again, in response, the people will shout for joy from the highest points and rejoice in the bounty of God. Yes, they will embrace the blessings of grain, new wine, olive oil, and flocks and herds full of young animals. Their land will be one of blessing, a well-watered garden. In that moment there will be no sorrow and the young and the old will dance with gladness. In that day of blessing, God will “turn their mourning into gladness.” Comfort and joy will replace their sorrow and the people will be satisfied. The blessings spoken of here are more material than spiritual, but the question of the day, as we await the coming of the magi bringing gifts, do we not need the material/physical blessings as well as the “spiritual ones?”

As we stand here with the people of God, rejoicing in God’s outpouring of blessings, we turn to the Ephesian letter, and standing right at the heart of this passage is a strongly worded embrace of predestination – or so it seems. In him, we’re told, God has chosen those whom God has predestined according to the plan of the one who works out everything in accordance with God’s plan. This is an extremely dense theological passage that requires much reflection, in large part because it speaks so strongly about election and predestination. For this meditation, I’d like to leave that discussion to one side (see my Ephesian Bible study, pp. 14-15, for a fuller discussion of this issue), and focus more on the opening line of verse 3, which calls on the reader to praise God, the Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, because God has “blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.” The word about being destined – I prefer that form than the use of the word “predestined” – is rooted in this promise that God has chosen us for adoption to sonship in Christ. That is, we are heirs with Christ, of the full blessings of God, which comes to us as a result of God’s grace that includes forgiveness of sins. One of the key points in the Ephesian letter is that in Christ the mystery of God has been revealed, that God had chosen before the world began to bring Jew and Gentile into fellowship, with both peoples being made heirs of God in Christ, so that all might receive the blessings of God. It is, therefore, not a message of exclusion, as if God had chosen to bless some and not bless others, but that God had in mind an expansive sense of love and grace, and that sense is revealed in Christ, and it is sealed, so says the author of this letter, through the Holy Spirit, with which we have been sealed – a deposit guaranteeing that we will receive (redeem) our inheritance as God’s possession, to the praise and glory of God.

When we turn from the Ephesian letter to the prologue of John we move from one theologically dense work to another, though John 1 has a poetic sense to it. This lectionary passage places the first nine verses in parentheses and begins in earnest with verse ten, a passage that invites us to consider the one through whom the world came into existence. Interestingly, while the NIV uses the masculine pronoun in verse 10, the Common English Bible continues the train of thought from verse 9, and speaks of the world coming into existence “through the light.” But, as is often true in life, the world didn’t recognize the light when it came into the world. But, our theme that we’re following here has to do with blessings, spiritual blessings that come to us as a result of our engagement with the living God.

It would seem that the first and foremost blessing is the right to be born children of God, something that happens not because of blood or human desire, but from the decision of God. Consider the Ephesian letter which speaks of God’s election, God’s choice, in adopting us as God’s heirs/children. It would appear that the same theme is present in this text, though here the gift of God comes to us through the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. Even though we may not have recognized the light at first, for those who are willing, they will see the glory of this one who became flesh, whose glory is that of the father’s only sun, one who is full of grace and truth. This grace comes into the world through the Word (Light) made flesh, and it is this one we remember here in this moment that reveals to us the true nature of God.

As we move from Christmas into Epiphany, a move that continues the theme that began with Christmas, the sense that God has made God’s self known in our world. It is appropriate that this liturgical movement comes at the same time as the secular calendar moves into a new year. As we contemplate this new year, we can do so knowing that the one who is our shepherd goes with us, bringing the light of God into our lives, so that we might experience every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realm. What better gift could one one receive at Christmas? And the proper response to this gift is to give thanks and praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!

God is with Us -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 7:10-16



Romans 1:1-7


Matthew 1:18-25

God is with Us!

Every year we hear cries from the populace demanding that Christ be put back into Christmas. In the minds of many there is a conspiracy, perhaps by a cadre of elite secularists, who are intent upon stripping Christ out of Christmas. But if Christ is at risk being removed from Christmas then it’s like that the culprit is the very ones who are making the demand. That is, our participation in the commercialization of this sacred feast of the incarnation is what is pushing the true message of Christmas out of the picture.

If we would attend to the voice of Scripture we would hear a message that is summed up in a name – Emmanuel, which is translated “God with Us.” The prophet told the king that God would provide a sign – a young woman would bear a child and she would call this child Emmanuel. And many centuries later, a gospel writer picked upon this prophetic word and reads the story of Jesus in light of it. The one, who, according to Matthew, is named Jesus because he will save his people, fulfills the promise that God would be with us. Therefore, as we watch the blue and the purple of Advent give way to the liturgical white and gold of the Christmas season, and as the hymns transition from a message of expectation to one of fulfillment, the message of God’s presence begins to make itself felt.

This message that God is with us permeates the three texts for the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Two of them speak of a young woman/virgin who bears a child as a sign that God is in our midst. Paul doesn’t speak of the birth of this child but does affirm the gospel message that comes down from the prophets of old, that God’s Son, who is descended according to the flesh from David, has been declared the Son of God through the resurrection. Before I engage more fully these three texts I’d like to add into the mix a statement made by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his lectures on Christology given in Berlin during the 1930s. He notes that the two stories of Jesus birth and baptism stand together, with one concerning itself with the presence of the Word of God in Jesus, while the other is focused in the coming of the Word of God upon Jesus. He writes that “the manger directs our attention to the man, who is God; the baptism directs our attention, as we look at Jesus, to the God who calls.” He then goes on to say:

If we speak of Jesus Christ as God, we may not say of him that he is the representative of an idea of God, which possesses the characteristics of omniscience and omnipotence (there is no such thing as this abstract divine nature!); rather, we must speak of his weakness, his manger, his cross. This man is no abstract God. (John De Gruchy, Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Witness to Jesus Christ, pp. 116-117).

The texts for this Sunday take us directly into the Christmas story, and they remind us that the Christmas story, indeed the gospel story, isn’t the story of an abstract God-man.

The first word comes to Isaiah and is delivered to King Ahaz of Judah, who is told that God will give him a sign, but the king in a bit of false modesty declines the opportunity to test God’s faithfulness. But the prophet will not be put off, and so God will give him a sign anyway, and the sign will be this. A young woman will bear a son, and she will name him Emmanuel, which means “God with Us.” And before this child reaches the age of understanding good and evil, the land controlled by the kings whom Ahaz dreads will be deserted. In context, this is a word of hope to the people of Judah. The young woman could be Ahaz’s wife, and thus the mother of Hezekiah, or she could be Isaiah’s wife, for Isaiah speaks of his own children as “signs . . . from the Lord” (Is. 8:1). Although it’s easy to get caught up in the debate over whether Isaiah 7:14 is speaking of a virgin or simply a young woman without any reference to her sexual experience, if we do this we miss the point – God has offered a sign in the person of a child, a sign that reminds us that God is with us.

Before we move to the gospel lesson that builds upon Isaiah’s word of promise about God’s faithfulness in dealing with Judah’s enemies, we must stop and attend to Romans 1:1-7. Here in this opening section of Paul’s great letter to the Romans, in which he affirms his own call to be an apostle so that he might deliver the gospel that had been promised ages before through the prophets. This gospel concerns God’s son, who though descended from David in the flesh (note there is nothing here about an extraordinary birth), but who is then declared Son of God through the Resurrection from the dead. And the calling to which Paul has been called is to bring the Gentiles into a position of obedience “for the sake of his name,” for they belong to Jesus Christ. Again the text lends itself to debate. One wonders whether this emphasis on the resurrection being the point at which the Son of David becomes Son of God could signal an adoptionist Christology. That is, God chooses to adopt Jesus as his son – either at baptism or in the resurrection. But as Bonhoeffer reminds us these events are all connected and thus fighting over whether this is an adoptionist perspective again misses the point – God us chosen to be present in Christ.

And so we come to the gospel lesson, wherein Isaiah’s “young woman” gives way to the Septuagint’s translation of the Hebrew almah into the Greek parthenos (virgin). The message is this. Joseph was going to put away his betrothed because she was pregnant, and apparently he was the father. He was a kind and gentle man so he didn’t take the option of putting her away publicly. But as he contemplated this action, an angel appears in a dream and tells him: “fear not,” go ahead and get married to Mary, just as you planned, for this child is from the Holy Spirit. The focus isn’t on the how, but on the sign. This young woman, not yet fully married, and probably very young is pregnant, and that means she has broken her vows (or, more likely had been raped, perhaps by a Roman soldier). Joseph was fully in his rights to set her aside, but he was a good and gentle man and so he chose not to do so, and now the angel gives him further instructions. Get married, have the baby, and name him Jesus (Yeshua), for he will save the people from their sins. He will do this to fulfill the word of Isaiah, that a “virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they will name him Emmanuel.” And so it happened, and Joseph refrained from engaging in sexual relations with his wife until the son was born, and they named him Jesus. The message once again is this: “God is with us.”  And because God is with us, there is hope, even a world full of darkness -- as Matthew's gospel quickly reminds us in the story of the slaughter of the Innocents.  But that text is still ahead of us.  Now, the message is this:  Fear Not!

There is much going on in these texts that require our careful attention. They have a powerful message of God’s abiding presence, not in abstract form or in typical human power relationships, but rather in weakness, as Bonhoeffer points out in a manger and on a cross.

Waiting Patiently -- An Advent Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 35:1-10



James 5:7-10


Matthew 11:2-11

Waiting Patiently

I waited an entire lifetime (fifty-two years) to watch the San Francisco Giants win the World Series.  I was not yet born when a very young Willie Mays and his New York Giants teammates won the ’54 Series. I’d seen the Giants make it to the series a few times in my life, but never had I been able to watch them win it all. But, the day of reckoning did come, and my dreams were fulfilled.  Yes, in early November of this year, a much underestimated team that relied on pitching due to a relatively weak offense patiently, but persistently, overcame the odds and won it all for the first time in fifty-six years.    Being the fan of a team that more often than not rewards one’s patience with failure to succeed might lead one to switch teams (and truth be told, despite my lifelong love of the Giants, I have cheated on occasion and adopted a substitute team), but the promise lives on and we persevere (no one quite as long as Cub fans). And when the promise is fulfilled, we are truly filled with joy unspeakable!

The texts for the third Sunday of Advent have nothing to do with baseball, but they do remind us that patient waiting is required of us if we’re to see the reign of God come to full fruition. The prophet of old lays out a wondrous vision of a desert that comes alive with glorious beauty, as it tastes the benefits of water. The prophet adds another image, that of a highway, which is called the Holy Way, and this highway will be extraordinarily safe. It will be a highway for God’s people, and there will be no fear of danger nor of getting lost. And as the ransomed, the redeemed, walk upon it into Zion, they will be doing so singing songs of joy and gladness, with their sorrows fleeing away. What a grand vision of God’s reign. Of course, the prophet new that such a vision had yet to bear fruit. The people of God are living in exile, their hopes dim, but the promise is held out for them.

From the epistle of James we read words of caution – “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord.” Like the farmer who patiently waits for the harvest, knowing that both the early and the late rains must come before there is to be a harvest. Yes, once again, water plays a significant role in the promised coming of the Lord. The early church leader tells the reader to strengthen their hearts, because the Lord is near. Don’t grumble against each other, lest you be liable for judgment. Indeed, the judge is at the door. But remember that the judges in this context need not be meting out punishment, but instead deciding how to distribute God’s bounty. So be patient, and if you need encouragement, then look to the example of the prophets who suffered patiently, even as they spoke in the name of the Lord.

If Isaiah lays out the vision and James cautions us to be patient in our anticipation of God’s reign, Matthew seems to think that the promise has been fulfilled. Once again John the Baptist appears in the story, as John often does during this season of patient waiting and preparation for the Coming of the Lord. But in this scene, John is in prison, his dream that God’s reign would come into being as a result of his preaching the baptism of repentance, came crashing down. He had hoped to see the dream fulfilled, and now he’s in prison. But according to Matthew, he hears word that the Messiah is doing some amazing things, so he sends his disciples to ask Jesus: Are you the one, or should we keep looking? Now, if you go back maybe eight chapters you’ll find John baptizing Jesus and proclaiming him to be the Messiah or something like that. So, why the confusion and the questions? In answer to John’s questions, Jesus reaches back to the words of Isaiah, and lays out the things he is doing, and suggests that they speak for themselves: The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are clean (remember that in Isaiah 35 no one who is unclean is allowed on God’s Holy Way), the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor, yes the poor, have received the Good news. That, Jesus believes, is a sufficient answer, and the disciples of John return to their master.

As John’s disciples move out of earshot, Jesus turns to the crowd and says of the one who has been sent by God to prepare the way and to be God’s messenger, no one who has been born of a woman has risen higher than John, and yet the least in the kingdom is greater than he. Why? Because the least person in the kingdom has had the opportunity to see God’s reign in its fullness, something John did not get to experience. John is preparing the way, but like Moses another will take the people into the land of promise.

So we watch to see what God is up to, and we do so with patience, knowing the one who is coming is standing at the door. And with the ransomed and the redeemed of the Lord, we come into the Promised Land singing songs of joy!

Please and Thank You -- A Thanksgiving Homily

Luke 17:11-19

We’ve gathered together to ask the Lord’s blessing and to give thanks for the bountiful gifts of God. Giving thanks is deeply rooted in our faith tradition, going all the way back to our Jewish ancestors who heeded the Psalmist’s call to make a joyful noise, worship with gladness, and come into God’s presence with singing, because the Lord is God. Yes, we’ve heard the call to “enter the gates with thanksgiving, and the courts with praise . . . For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever and his faithfulness to all generations.” (Psalm 100 NRSV).

1. Being Thankful

Thanksgiving is a national holiday, but it has a strong spiritual dimension. For some this is simply an expression of civil religion that can be quickly dispensed with before watching the game and digging into the feast. For some Thanksgiving will offer a rare opportunity to gather as family or with friends for a time of merriment and sharing, that may or may not have any spiritual dimension. But, it also could provide an opportunity to stop and give thanks for the blessings of life, even if done briefly. We’ve come here because we believe that giving thanks has a broader, more spiritual sense to it.

Tonight we gather as a Christian community, but I’d like to link this observance to another gathering that some of us participated in this past Sunday evening. That event was interfaith and it reminded us that ours is a diverse nation, made up of people who share many different faith traditions. That event reminded us to give thanks for the freedoms provided by this nation to people from a multitude of religious traditions to safely gather together for prayer and worship and service in a way that is appropriate to that tradition. Our gathering this evening may be a Christian one, but it shares in this broader dimension of freedom. Therefore, as we gather in the name of Christ, let us give thanks for the freedoms we share with fellow citizens whose beliefs are different from ours, knowing that around the world there are many who do not share in the protections of our nation’s Constitution.

But, whether or not there is government sanctioned freedom to worship, we still can give thanks that God is present in our midst. Our ability to give thanks doesn’t ultimately depend on such freedoms. Therefore, we gather to give thanks to the God we know in Jesus Christ for the steadfast love of God that endures forever, not just for Americans but for all of creation. And in that spirit, we’re able to sing the words of a Thanksgiving hymn:

Now thank we all our God with heart and hands and voices,

who wondrous things has done, in whom the world rejoices,

who, from our mothers’ arms, has blessed us on our way

with countless gifts of love, and still is ours today. (Chalice Hymnal, #15)

2. The Meaning of Thanksgiving

If our calling is to give thanks, then we must ask – what does this involve? As I considered this question, I realized that it would be easy to fall into a discussion of niceness and politeness. That is, I could focus my attention on the importance of saying please and thank you. Like many of you, I was taught as a child to even say thank you to Aunt Martha for that hideous sweater that you would never, ever wear in public. You see, if you use these words with practiced efficiency, you’ll be successful in life. Although, there’s nothing wrong with being polite or saying please and thank you, even to Aunt Martha for that sweater, I don’t think that is the point of this season of Thanksgiving?

I raised this question of politeness because tonight’s gospel reading for tonight is a bit odd. If we’re not careful, we could end up with an Emily Post kind of interpretation and use it to reinforce the principles of proper etiquette. But if we did that, we’d miss Luke’s point.

In this story, which appears only in Luke’s gospel, there are ten people with skin diseases, making them spiritual and social outcasts, who came to Jesus as he was wandering along the border regions of Galilee and Samaria. Wherever this village was located, it appears to be one of those places where Jew and Samaritan mingled, and where disease seems to have transcended ethnicity and religious observance. They cry out from a distance, because they knew that it wasn’t appropriate to approach people who weren’t infected: “Have mercy on us!” We’re not sure what they wanted. It could have been money, or maybe they’d heard rumors that Jesus was a healer and hoped he would heal them. Whatever the case Jesus simply tells them to go and show themselves to the priest, directions that they chose to obey. Now, the reason Jesus sent them to the priest, was that priests served not only as religious functionaries, like we clergy do, but they were also public health officials. Since the Temple was far off, maybe they headed off to a branch office to get their all-clean report, and in the moment that they left to see the priest, they were healed. And as Luke notes, while nine of them continued on, one returned to give thanks. That one person who turned back to Jesus was, Luke says, a Samaritan and a foreigner. When the Samaritan returns to Jesus and offers his word of thanksgiving, Jesus wonders out loud where everyone else had gone, even though they were doing what he had told them to do. Could it be that this man returned to give thanks to Jesus because he was a Samaritan and didn’t have anywhere else to go?

What should we do with this text? Should we use it to reinforce proper etiquette, using the Samaritan as our model citizen? Or do we take it a step further and deeper, and hear in this story a call to give thanks to a God whose love is inclusive, a God who reaches out and touches the lives of citizen and foreigner alike? It matters not to God whether, one is Jewish or a Samaritan, God’s bounty is poured out on both without discrimination. It’s this indiscriminate love of God, which draws us from the margins back into the center, that calls forth words of thanksgiving. It matters not to God, why society chooses to exclude us, whether it be disease, ethnicity, or religious differences, for God’s love covers us all, and therefore we can and should give thanks to God. And what better words to use in closing this meditation than the doxology, which so many of us sing each Sunday:

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him, all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church

Ecumenical Thanksgiving Service

Lutheran Church of the Master of Troy

November 23, 2010

Envisioning the Reign of God -- Lectionary Meditation

Jeremiah 23:1-6



Colossians 1:11-20


Luke 23:33-43

Envisioning the Reign of God

There are very few true monarchs left in the world. Most are of the sort that “rule” in England. They’re mainly figureheads who are trotted out on special occasions. True power is held by someone else, whether Parliament or the Prime Minister. Americans don’t very much like monarchs, whether constitutional or not, though we seem to have an interest in things royal, as long as we don’t have to support them with our taxes. So, for moderns, the idea of observing Christ the King Sunday might seem rather odd. Yet, this is the Sunday in which we proclaim Christ as King, as the one in whom and through whom God creates, sustains, and rules the universe. In observing this particular Sunday, we conclude another liturgical cycle. When the church gathers a week later, it will begin the cycle once more with a season of waiting, a season waiting for a king to be born. These two realities – the hope and the fulfillment can be found present in these three texts that hail God’s king, the one who according to Jeremiah will execute justice and righteousness. One of the things that we must realize as we observe this particular event is that God’s idea of a realm or a kingdom often differs from what we might have in mind.

We begin with Jeremiah. His is the prophetic word that offers us a vision of what God desires. As we open to Jeremiah 23 we hear God cry out against the shepherds who have destroyed the flock and scattered the sheep. The identity of these shepherds isn’t revealed, but context suggests the rulers and authorities of Judah. It is their choices that have led to this day, when the nation will be destroyed and the people scattered. But God is not finished with this people, and so despite the realities of the day, God promises to gather up the remnant from the many lands to which they’ve fled, and then bring them back into the fold. There in the safety and security of God’s reign, the people will be “fruitful and multiply,” a promise is rooted in the very act of creation (Gen. 1:28), suggesting that what is promised is a day of new creation. In this new creation in which God will regather the people of God, there will be new shepherds, so that none will live in fear. Yes, the day is coming when God will raise up a righteous branch, whose reign will be marked by wisdom, justice, and righteousness. In that day Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety (yes, this is in this context a parallelism). And the one who will reign shall be known as “The Lord is our Righteousness.” That is, this one who will rule will rule according to the dictates of God’s covenant with the people.

From Jeremiah we move to that second generation Christian leader who writes to the churches in the name and out of the community that knew Paul as its founder and leader. If Jeremiah points us forward into time, offering a vision of God’s chosen representative, this passage from Colossians offers the reader a vision of enthronement. What was hoped for has now come to pass. In a word to people, whom the author believes, had been rescued from darkness so that they might live in the light that is found in the “kingdom of his beloved Son.” It is this beloved Son of God who provides redemption and forgiveness – or to put this in terms of Jeremiah’s vision, he is the one who will provide salvation and safety. Here in this letter we experience one of the great hymns of praise, a hymn that declares that Christ is the “image of the invisible God, the first born of creation.” In him everything is created, including the thrones and kingdoms of this world. Everything is created through him and for him. He is the agent of God’s creation and recreation. In him, the fullness of God has dwelt, and so it is in Christ that we may know God’s grace, mercy, justice, and righteousness. It is a most triumphant scene, worthy of setting to powerful music. By the end of this hymn you’re ready to tack on Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus. But there is another text to which we must give our attention – Luke’s account of the crucifixion.

Luke’s account of the crucifixion isn’t a text that we might expect hear on a Sunday before Thanksgiving, especially when the Christmas shopping cycle has already begun in earnest. Spending time contemplating Good Friday doesn’t seem appropriate. Indeed, the Colossian letter seems more appropriate than does this one. And yet, this is the text for the day. Like the other two texts, however, it speaks to the question of kingship and kingdoms. But, the way in which this passage wrestles with the reign of God reminds us that God’s ways may be different from ours. Jeremiah envisioned a righteous and just ruler, a Messiah who would gather the people and save them. The passage raises the question – what kind of King will this Messiah of God be? The answer is found on the cross. Jesus is crucified at a place called the Skull, situated between two criminals. There are a number of onlookers. Some are gawkers, the kind that are attracted to spectacles, and public executions have always seemed to fill that need for entertainment. Others who have gathered are the religious leaders, who come to scoff and remind him that his path to messiahship has taken a rather wrong turn. Instead of glory, it is death and humiliation. So, if you thought you could save others, why not try to save yourself – that is, if you’re the Messiah. Finally, there are the soldiers, and they too join in the derision. So, they say, this is the “King of the Jews”? Not all that impressive is he, can’t even save himself! Yes, here he is the one who would be king, and all that we can say for him, is that he will die a failure in his task. Therefore, in the spirit of mockery they place above his head, a sign that reads “King of the Jews.” Such is the fate of Pretenders to the Throne!

I forgot to mention that there are two other characters in this story – men hanging to the left and the right of Jesus. One joins in the mockery, and why not? A bit of gallows humor might seem appropriate, would be a suitable distraction from the agony of crucifixion. That is one voice from the hill called the Skull. There is another voice, which comes from the other condemned criminal, and this voice first scolds the other victim of Rome’s “justice system,” admitting some guilt, but also insisting that Jesus did not deserve his fate. We could debate the reasons why Jesus may have gone to the cross, but that would miss the point of the hour. This man, experiencing the same agony as Jesus, offers a different assessment, declaring Jesus to be innocent. He offers God’s judgment upon Jesus, and then turns to Jesus and asks to be remembered in the Kingdom. Here from the lips of a condemned man comes Luke’s enthronement psalm. And Jesus responds: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” Yes, you will enjoy the blessings of God’s reign, for your understand the truth. You understand that the kingdom of God differs from human kingdoms, which are built upon terror, fear, coercion, and injustice.

As we gather this Sunday, may we consider the true nature of God’s reign. It’s not a democracy, which can easily turn into the tyranny of the majority. Nor is it the tyranny of the one. Instead, it is a commitment to justice and righteousness – and the one who reigns will be called “the Lord is our Righteousness.”

Reposted from [D]mergent

The Coming of the Lord

Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4



2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12


Luke 19:1-10

The Coming of the Lord

Whenever preachers look at the week’s lectionary texts they tend to look for any common threads. Sometimes, in our eagerness to find the threads, we push the envelope, and I suppose that I could be accused of that in titling today’s meditation. Except that each of the texts, even the Gospel text, speaks of the coming of the Lord. It is true that in Luke’s gospel, the Lord is simply inviting himself over for dinner at Zacchaeus’s house, but it still has that “eschatological flavor” that is present in the other two texts. In the Lord’s coming, there is salvation. And salvation involves or leads to righteousness – a word that needs defining.

The Habakkuk text closes with the phrase “The righteous shall live by faith,” a phrase that is repeated in Romans 1:17 (not the lectionary reading for the week). This phrase proved troubling to Martin Luther, who saw in it the possibility of “work’s righteousness,” and so he wanted to emphasize the faith part of it, and insist that whatever righteousness is involved, that righteousness comes from Christ and not our own works. But that doesn’t seem to be the concern of Habakkuk. In these two brief selections from this so-called Minor Prophet, we hear the cry of a suffering people, who were witnessing in their midst violence, wrong-doing, and trouble-making. Indeed, considering the political bickering of the moment, these words stand out: “strife and contention arise.” The prophet is wondering when God will respond, going as far as declaring that he would stand at his watch post and keep watch until God answers his complaint. It is then that the Lord responds, telling him to write down a vision on a tablet that the runner can take around to the people. And the word that came to the people was this: “If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come. It will not delay.” And then comes the kicker – be sure to look at the proud, for their spirit isn’t right – but “the righteous will live by faith.” And what is faith? It is living by trusting God? What is righteousness? It is God’s justice – God’s commitment to the poor and the marginalized of society. It may not have been what Luther had in mind at the time, but that seems to be what was on Habakkuk’s mind.

The second text, the one that comes from 2 Thessalonians serves as a response to concerns that the “parousia” or the return of Christ had already come. To use the title of a recent series of “apocalyptic themed books” they were afraid they had been “Left Behind,” and so the author (presumably Paul, but there are questions about authorship) offers a word of assurance. Don’t worry, because before anything like that happens you’ll start seeing the signs of rebellion and the rise of the lawless one, who will seat himself on God’s throne in the Temple, declaring himself to be God. But, don’t get too concerned, and don’t be alarmed by any “spirit, word, or letter” claiming to be from us declaring that the “day of the Lord” is already here. The Lord is coming, but don’t believe everything you hear. But the word that we need to hear comes at the end, in verses 11-12, which offers a word a judgment against those who take “pleasure in unrighteousness.” That is, those who fail to believe the truth and follow the Lawless One by living lives of unrighteousness. And what is meant by unrighteousness? Surely the definition is rooted in the message of the prophets, who call on the people of God to act justly toward those who are poor, to the widow, and the orphan.

Finally, we come to the story of Zacchaeus, one of the best known stories in the New Testament. We know this story because Zacchaeus seems to always be the butt of “short-people” jokes. He’s so short, he has to climb a tree to see Jesus. But it should be noted that this story falls on the heels of the previous week’s lectionary text where the attitudes of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector are compared. The Pharisee is sure of his own righteousness and needs no help from God; while the tax collector humbly asks that God take mercy on him, for he is a miserable sinner. Now, in this text, which follows on that parable, we meet up with a real tax collector who is keen on seeing Jesus. And, as a result the Lord decides to come to his house. Although the “righteous” folks in town are scandalized that Jesus would hang out with a sinner, Zacchaeus, the chief tax agent in Jericho, is so pleased by Jesus’ willingness to come to his house that he vows to change his life. And how might he do this? He commits himself to giving half of his possessions to the poor (an act of righteousness) and will repay those he has defrauded four times the amount that he had taken from them (considering that this is how he made his money – the profit that lies beyond what he had to give to Rome, he was essentially doing what Jesus asked of the rich young man (Luke 17:18ff) – he committed himself to giving everything he had and in return Jesus says that salvation had come to this house. He had committed himself to live by faith and doing so had become righteous.

The two messages that are embedded in these texts are these: First, the day of the Lord is coming, so keep watch, because God is faithful and will come at the appropriate time. And second the “righteous shall live by faith,” which means that if we’re trusting our lives into the care of God, we should live in the interim period in such a way that the righteousness of God will be on display – a righteousness that is illustrated by the decisions made by Zacchaeus.

 

Reposted from [D]mergent