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.

Behaving Properly -- A Lectionary Meditation

Deuteronomy 30:15-20



1 Corinthians 3:1-9


Matthew 5:21-37

Behaving Properly

What is the purpose of religion? Yes, we talk about the importance of worship and one’s relationship with God, but is that really the focus of much human religion? Although, the chief end of humanity, according to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “is to love God, and enjoy him forever,” could we not say that controlling prescribed and proscribed social behaviors central to religion? Why else would governments want to partner with religion, except that religions support the state and the status quo? George Washington wasn’t necessarily orthodox in his theology, but he believed that chaplains were important to his army, for two reasons – to inculcate virtue and teach proper deference to authority. Thomas Jefferson and John Adams may not have been theologically orthodox either, but they recognized the social value of religion. In fact they believed that one of the most important principles that any religion could bring to the table was a belief in rewards and punishments in an afterlife. Put the fear of God in them and they’ll behave properly – and deferentially to authority as well. Hey, isn’t that why parents took their children to church? Instill a little fear of God in them!

Rare is it that religion becomes counter-cultural. It may start out that way, but before too long we can get sucked in and become merely the providers of a foundation for a proper civil morality and behavior. And yet, issues of law and behavior are prominent in the teachings of our faith traditions.

As we consider the lectionary texts for the week, there is this concern for proper behavior. For instance, in Deuteronomy the theme of reward and punishment is definitely prominent, even if the focus isn’t the afterlife. The people of Israel are told that if they obey the Lord’s commands and walk in God’s ways, they will live long lives and their offspring will be numerous. Yes, if you follow the commands of God, God will bless you as you enter and live in the land of Promise. But, if you don’t listen and don’t obey, and are led astray by other gods, then you will perish. The voice is supposed to be that of Moses offering the Law of God to the people, and he calls heaven and earth to bear witness to the choice that is being offered – life or death: what will you choose? The choice is offered not simply to individuals, but to the community, to the nation. Will you obey God? If you are so willing, you will experience blessings.

When we come to Paul’s word to the Corinthian church the situation is very different. It’s not so much following commands as understanding what it means to experience a mature faith. Here is a community of faith that isn’t ready for solid food, a community of the flesh rather than of the spirit. The point is not obedience to commands, but refraining from behaving according to “human inclinations.” And the way this behavior is expressed is through factionalism. Some like Paul and others like Apollos, but such inclinations show them to be merely human, and not truly spiritual in nature. For, who is Paul or Apollos? One plants and the other waters, but it’s God who gives the growth. So, if Paul and Apollos serve the same Lord and have a common purpose and aim, there’s no need to divide up. That’s not spiritual, it’s human – or we might say – juvenile. Paul’s hope, of course, is that they will soon move from infancy into adulthood. Behavior is key, but here it’s more internalized than the message from Deuteronomy. There is less in the way of rewards or punishment, at least in this passage – just a sense of moving upward toward maturity.

And then we come to the words of Jesus who has called us to a righteousness that exceeds that of the Scribes a Pharisees. Remembering again the tendency to stereotype Pharisees, the point Jesus makes here is that God is concerned about the heart, out of which misbehavior emerges. Yes, we shouldn’t murder, but murder is a physical manifestation of an inner problem, which is anger. So, take care of the anger before it gets out of hand. Don’t say things like “you fool” lest you face the danger of hell. And if you think that you’re out of the woods because you didn’t commit adultery, well even lust is sufficient to get you in trouble. So, it’s better to cut out the offending eye or cut off the offending hand, lest you face having your whole body thrown in hell. I sure hope this is meant to be taken metaphorically! And then there’s divorce. In Matthew Jesus gives the man at least one out. If his wife has committed adultery then he can divorce and remarry without problem, but no longer can you just willy-nilly toss out your wife because the dinner was cold. If you do this you put here in an untenable position. If she’s going to survive she’ll either have to become a prostitute or remarry, and in either case she’ll be considered an adulterer and the one she marries will be considered an adulterer. Better then, for everyone, that everyone stays married to their original partner and stay away from wandering eyes!

The final section of the sermon treats oaths. Don’t swear oaths, Jesus says. Instead, mean what you say, and say what you mean. You don’t need to swear by the heavens, because that’s God’s throne, and you’re not God. And don’t even think about swearing by the earth, because that’s God’s footstool. As for Jerusalem, well that’s God’s city, so that doesn’t seem to be something you control. In fact, you can’t even turn one hair white or black, so don’t think about swearing by your own head. This section is really challenging to us, or should be, for we think that somehow the Bible is a magical book, that if we put our hand upon it, we’ll tell the truth. Why is this? Why can’t our no be no and our yes be yes?

Religion may have a role in providing support for the common good. But surely it is not merely the provider of support for the social and cultural status quo? Surely, it goes beyond merely behaving properly? But what does that entail? To return to Deuteronomy – what does it mean to love God and walk in the ways of God?

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?

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!

Salvation Amidst Suffering -- A Lectionary Meditation for the Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 63:7-9



Hebrews 2:10-18


Matthew 2:13-23

Salvation Amidst Suffering

As we moved through Advent into Christmas, we focused on the emergence of light into the realm of darkness. Where darkness sought to rule the day, light ultimately won the battle. It is a struggle that is marked by the observance of the Solstice, which while not Christian aspects of this observance have been drawn up into our observance of Christmas. The message of light breaking into the darkness is seen in the greeting given to the Christ child by the Angelic chorus, and we see it in the star that led the Magi to the Christ child. Yes, the message of the season is that a great light is shining into the darkness, and the darkness, though it will try, cannot overwhelm it. Despite the message of the season that we have been blessed by the unconquerable light of God, this doesn’t mean that the darkness has given up without a fight. The one who brings light into the world may have arrived, but the darkness will do all that is necessary to extinguish it.

As a fan of the original Star Wars trilogy, I see this Sunday’s texts, especially the Gospel text, representing the theme of the second film in the series – The Empire Strikes Back. Is that not the message of the text from Matthew? Despite the victory won by the incarnation, when light pushed back at the darkness, the darkness has struck back with a vengeance. This leaves us with a question – shall the empire win? And if not, what resources may we bring to bear to resist the darkness? How will the light prevail? And the answer that these three texts seem to deliver is that this effort will involve suffering. The Incarnate One will suffer, but so will those who are identified with him.

In this set of lectionary readings laid out for the Sunday after Christmas, we find much that requires thought and interpretation. We must wrestle with texts that suggest suffering is the path through which salvation makes it way, and we must also deal with passages that suggest that substitutionary atonement might be part of the deal. There is also the slaughter of the innocents to deal with, along with a passage that emerges from a time of concern about the future, a time when suffering continues to hang over the people. Yes, there is much darkness to contend within these texts – human sin and rebellion and cruelty – a reminder that God’s work of bringing wholeness to our broken world doesn’t come easily. But, there is hope present here in this set of texts. Isaiah 63 reminds us that by God’s presence the people are saved, Hebrews suggests that the one who is incarnate has shared our lives and will wipe away our sins. And despite the attempt on his life, Jesus and family escape so that they may live for another day. Yes, but all of this comes in the midst of suffering.

Let us look more closely at our texts, beginning with the selection from Isaiah. Whereas the two Isaiah texts we most closely connect with Advent and Christmas, Isaiah 7 and 9, come from a much earlier period in Israel’s history, a time when Judah is under pressure from enemies north and south, but it remains intact. This text, three verses that emerge from a much longer poem, comes from either the exile, or more likely from the post-exilic period. There is restoration, but this restoration has not come without difficulties. There is a mixture of emotions in the complete poem, but these three verses that lead us into the discussion of salvation in the midst of suffering, calls on us to offer praise to God. As we go forth to resist the darkness, that is itself resisting the light, we must recognize that we go forth in the presence of the one who brings to bear grace, steadfast love, and mercy. Yes, even as God became their savior in the midst of their distress, and saved them through God’s great love and pity, redeeming them and lifting them and carrying them all their days, while things might look bad, God in God’s faithfulness was there to lift them up and carry them. Do you not hear a bit of the Footprints poem in this text?

The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child. I love you, and I would never, never leave you during your times of trial and suffering.

When you saw only one set of footprints,

It was then that I carried you."

If Isaiah holds out the promise of God’s saving presence and offers words of praise in response, the anonymous sermon that goes by the title of the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of the one who has been tested in all things as we have, and therefore is able to wipe away the sins of the people. The passage begins by reminding us that God had thought it fitting that the “pioneer of their salvation” should be made “perfect through sufferings.” This passage seems to suggest that Christ has died in our stead to take care of sins, but it doesn’t define what that means. Perhaps, then, it is better that we stay clear of atonement theory and instead see Christ as the one who, being the pioneer of our salvation, and having tasted life as we experience it, understands that part of experience is suffering. By going through this experience of suffering, indeed, even going through death itself (thought death isn’t mentioned here) we begin to understand the true message of incarnation. This one who came into the world didn’t just make an appearance, but experienced all that we experience, and due to his embrace of God’s mission, faced inordinate suffering. As a result, he has become for us a merciful and faithful high priest before God, representing us before God and as a result wiping away all our sins. He tasted life in the darkness, and brought light instead – but not without experiencing suffering.

The Gospel lesson for this Sunday after Christmas makes us skip over the story of the Magi, which is reserved for the Day of Epiphany. It is a text that offers a story of salvation, but it also offers the most graphic description of the manner in which darkness resists the light. Here is the story of Herod and the “Slaughter of the Innocents.” Herod is the one who builds the grand Temple in Jerusalem, but whose own sins are so great that he stands among the pantheon of history’s cruelest tyrants. As Matthew tells the story, Herod reenacts the story of Pharaoh’s slaughter of the Hebrew male children, by having his soldiers massacre all the male children two years and younger. In the case of Herod, the malevolent despot fears anyone who would threaten his hold on the throne, even a small and innocent child. Although there isn’t any historical evidence that Herod ordered the slaughter of the male children of Bethlehem, such an action wasn’t beyond the capabilities of this ruler, who had members of his own family killed lest they try to supplant him. Yes, because he was cruel and sadistic, such an act represents well his personality. And he does stand forth as a symbol of the empire of darkness.

In this story, the child who would be a threat to his throne escapes due to an angelic vision. A father has a dream, and as a result, takes his family to safety in Egypt, reversing the trip the Hebrews took from slavery in Egypt to the freedom of the Promised Land. Isn’t it ironic that the land of light had become a place of darkness?

And the message here? Could it be that the mission of God often comes with a cost to those involved? In this story, the suffering comes not to the one through whom the darkness is defeated, but those near him. We call this collateral damage. Why, we ask, must this be so?

Perhaps the answer to the question of why suffering is part of the story is that darkness will not allow the light to take root without a struggle that leads to suffering. Yes, the darkness will not give up easily. Jesus may have, according to Matthew, survived this first onslaught of darkness unscathed, but as we continue reading, we’ll discover that darkness, and with it suffering, will not go away without a fight. Yes, even as Rachel weeps for her children, a day will come when Mary will weep for her child. But, darkness will not have the last word. Christmas marks the beginning, but a full orbed gospel includes Good Friday and Easter. There is joy and there is sadness. There is victory and seeming defeat. But the reality here is that in the end, the God who comes to us not with violence, but with peace, will bring us healing and salvation.

Your Savior is Born -- A Christmas Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 9:2-7



Titus 2:11-14

Luke 2:11-20

Your Savior Is Born

Christmas is finally upon us. The time of waiting is now giving way to the time of fulfillment. And the message is clear, even though darkness surrounds us, the light is breaking through. Where hope was seemingly lost, it has now been restored. “The Savior,” so says the angel of the Lord, “is Born.” And the salvation that comes to us isn’t pie in the sky, in the next life kind of hope, but a vision of God’s work of wholeness now, in this world. So often we think of salvation in terms of rescuing the perishing from this dying world, but is that the biblical vision? Is that the Christmas vision?

As we contemplate the Christmas story, as told in the gospels, we need to get out of the way the usual claptrap about the pagan origins of many of our observances, including trees, and that Jesus surely wasn’t born on December 25th, a date that coincides with the Roman observance of the Winter Solstice – the return of the Unconquered Sun – Sol Invictus. Yes, I know all of that. We needn’t run away from it. Christians have from the beginning found ways of baptizing rites, feasts, and ideas. That being said, we still have a message to attend to, the one that emerges from the lectionary texts for Christmas Eve/Christmas Day. Matthew’s Gospel has a sparse telling of the Christmas story, which is why we are typically led to the more detailed story in Luke, a story that in many ways differs markedly from Matthew’s, but we’ll get to that later.

Let us begin with Isaiah 9, a passage that gave us one of Handel’s great choruses: “For unto us a child is born, unto us, a son is given, . . .” Isaiah, here the 8th century prophet, speaks to people facing the prospect of an Assyrian conquest. The opening verse of this chapter, which isn’t part of the lection, speaks of northern territories that have already been conquered. Things look bad for Judah, but there is a word of hope here. A light will shine in the darkness, and the people will again rejoice, for the “rod of their oppressor” will be broken and the yoke will be lifted. Yes, and the “boots of the trampling warriors . . . will be burned as fuel for the fire.” The people are fearful, for they are living in a time of darkness. Do you feel their pain and their fear? Are you feeling it for yourself? Is darkness crowding in upon you? These are questions that the text asks of us, before it offers us the word of hope. Even as Isaiah speaks of a child born of a young woman, who will be a sign that “God is with us,” so a child will be born, upon whom authority will be laid, and we will call him: “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Yes, one is coming who will take up David’s throne and his rule will bring eternal peace, justice, and righteousness from this time on. Do you hear the messianic tone here? The early Christians did, and they made the application to Jesus. Did Isaiah have Jesus in mind when he gave this word of hope? I doubt it. Does the appellation “Mighty God” require that the bearer of this calling be divine? Not necessarily – the king was in the minds of the people of that day, “God’s son.” Each of these statements affirms that the one who is to take the throne will represent God on earth and will rule justly and bring peace. But ultimately, however we think of this series of titles, the point is this: God will do this. And if God will do this, are we ready to join God in this work?

The passage from Titus, which is the only time that Titus appears in the lectionary (likely because some of the other points made in this letter are less than conducive to preaching ), but the writer makes good on this one appearance, and does so by continuing the thought from Isaiah, though instead of light appearing, it’s grace, and with this grace will come salvation to all people. I love the next phrase in this passage, for it speaks of this grace that is appearing in our midst educating us so that “we can live sensible, ethical, and godly lives right now by rejecting ungodly lives and the desires of this world” (Tit. 2:12 CEB). Grace is appearing, not just to cover our sins, but to educate us or train us, so that we might live “sensible, ethical, and godly lives.” We could take this passage as a bit of moralizing, but the point is key – our faith, if it reflects the light that has come into the darkness should lead us to living sensibly and ethically. There should be a change in how we live our lives, as we embrace the grace that comes to us in Christ. The letter to Titus reminds us that even as we live in a time of waiting, anticipating the appearance of the “blessed hope” and the glorious appearing of our Great God and our savior Jesus Christ. The closing verses of this passage can be taken in a substitutionary way, but that’s not necessary and perhaps not even warranted. Instead, it would seem best, to me, that we see Jesus giving his live to bring us out of lawless lives so that he might create from us a people for himself who are eager to accomplish good deeds.

We close, appropriately enough, with the Gospel lection from Luke. We begin with Luke’s desire to get the parents of Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem. Matthew just assumes that they are from Bethlehem and then have to move north because it’s unsafe for them to be in that part of Palestine. Instead, Luke has Joseph and Mary head south to his family’s hometown Bethlehem due to a census or an enrollment on tax lists. There are a number of historical difficulties with this introduction, including the question why the Roman governor of Syria would call for something like this in what was the territory of Herod. There is also the problem of population displacement if everyone had to leave their current home to travel to their ancestral home. But, by creating this scenario, the residents of Nazareth get themselves to Bethlehem, where Mary, the one betrothed to Joseph, and pregnant with her first born son, makes the trip south to Bethlehem, but finding no place to stay, they end up in a stable and when she gives birth to this child, she wraps him up as snugly as possible and gently places him in a manger – essentially the feeding trough. We know this scene so well from creche scenes and from carols that we seemingly need little exposition. Though, maybe it would be nice to have Matthew’s discussion of the naming of Jesus.

Whereas Matthew has Jesus being born in Bethlehem and visited by magi from the east who follow a star, and then warned by the magi flee to Egypt to escape the wrath of a rival king – Herod the Great – Luke has an accompanying story of his own, by which he makes clear how special this birth really is. From the manger scene, we move out into the fields surrounding Bethlehem, where shepherds are tending their flocks by night. Again, the carols have given us the setting, and as the shepherds watched their flock, an angel of God appeared, “and the glory of the Lord shone around them” (vs. 9). And the angel said to the terrified shepherds: “Fear not . . . Glad tidings of great joy I bring to all of humankind, to all of humankind” (Nahum Tate, “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks.”). The message is this: today a child is born in the city of David who is the Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. The one you’ve been waiting for, the one promised by Isaiah, he is here and you will find him lying in a manger in Bethlehem. And as the angel made this announcement the angelic host joined together in the greatest choral concert ever, singing: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth among those whom he favors!” (Vs. 15).

So, what is the message to take from all of this? What message should we be taking in this Christmas season? Is it not simply this – a light shines in the darkness, bringing hope, grace, instruction, and a new way of life – if we will receive this message then surely there will be glory to God in the highest and peace on earth. As for the caveat – “on those whom he favors.” I’m of the belief that God shows favor to all humanity, and not just some among us!

Merry Christmas!

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!

Stand Firm -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 65:17-25


2 Thessalonians 3:6-13


Luke 21:5-19

Stand Firm

We hear complaints here and there that Christians in the United States face persecution. Usually the complaints center on rules prohibiting crèches or Ten Commandment monuments on civic property, or maybe the inability to have Christian prayers at high school football games. Most of these complaints have to do with loss of power and market share. Rarely, if ever, do Americans face true persecution. That is, their lives are not on the line, in the way that, for instance, the Chaldean Christians of Iraq are facing persecution at this very moment. In the lectionary texts for this week, believers are called upon to stand firm and to keep true to their faith in the midst of difficult circumstances. The passage from Isaiah speaks to post-exilic Jews who are facing difficult prospects for the future, while both the epistle and gospel speak directly to the reality of persecution. Where then does faith fit in this equation?

We start with the message from Isaiah – or more precisely – the third prophetic voice in the book of Isaiah. The Jewish people are living in the midst of ruin and despair. Their city lies in ruins and their Temple is no more. They build homes only to see others move in and farm land to see others eat of it. But a new day is coming; a day of new creation, when the old will be gone and the people will again rejoice and be a delight to God. In that day they will not “labor in vain” or bear children only to see them face calamity. Their days will be long in the land and they will prosper. Indeed, in that day the lion and the lamb will lie down together in peace, for in that day the lion will eat straw like the ox. Don’t give up hope, the prophet says to the people, a new day is coming. Live out the dream – build homes and plant vineyards, because a new day is coming. It is a beautiful vision, one we should grab hold of. It is a message of God’s blessings, for which we may give thanks.

But, even as we seek to live out the vision of God, we must remember that there are forces that would seek to prevent this vision from being implemented. In both the New Testament passages the topic of persecution is front and center. In the passage from 2 Thessalonians, which may or may not be written by Paul we hear encouraging news – the Thessalonians are faithful and loving. They long to see Paul, even as he longs to see them. As they face opposition and persecution, they draw strength from the fortitude that the Thessalonians have shown in the face of their own experiences of opposition. They have stood firm and therefore, Paul can rejoice in this. At the same time, Paul prays day and night for them, hoping to be with them face to face so that he can encourage them in their times of troubles. At the same time, Paul prays that they would increase in their love for one another and be strengthened in holiness, so that in the end, they will blameless before God, when Jesus comes with all the saints. This would seem to be a reminder that even as we stand firm in faith, we would not lose sight of our relationships with another.

If the Thessalonian letter encourages us to stand firm in the face of persecution, even as we are encouraged to increase in love and holiness, the Gospel text reminds us that this call to stand firm may not just be for a season, but be a perennial issue. Don’t be led astray, Jesus tells the disciples if you hear someone come in my name and say “I am he” or “The time is near.” Don’t follow them. If you hear about wars and earthquakes, famines and such, don’t be too concerned, such things will happen. There is this strong appeal to an apocalyptic sense – things are likely to get worse not better, but God will, in God’s time, intervene to bring order to disorder. So don’t be too concerned about what you see and hear – that’s just the way life is.

But, the word you need to hear is that when you face persecution – when you get hauled before religious and secular authorities because of my name, take the opportunity to testify. Give your testimony – tell the authorities about your faith – stand firm in the face of persecution. As I read this, I picture Martin Luther, standing before the authorities, both religious and secular, saying to them in those famous words: “Here I stand, I can do no other.” Jesus tells us in this text not to prepare a defense, but to trust him for the words. Let the Spirit move, because in doing so, the testimony will be all the more powerful.

As I read these texts, I hear in them both a vision of God’s future and a warning. God’s future won’t come into existence without a struggle. There are forces that would seek to prevent God’s reign from coming into existence. Like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, we may have to follow this path to our deaths, giving witness to the ways of God, knowing that in God’s time God’s realm will break through and there will be a new creation and the lion and the lamb will lie down together in peace.

Reposted from [D]mergent.

Poured Out -- A Lectionary Meditation

Joel 2:23-32

2 Timothy 4:6-18

Luke 8:9-14

Poured Out

Each week, as I sit down to write this lectionary meditation, I look at the text to see if there is something that connects them in one way or another. After all, the creators of the lectionary have tried to some extent to bring some thematic unity to their choices. It doesn’t always work, but often something sticks out, something catches the imagination. As I looked at these three texts, which in some ways are quite distinct, a phrase stood out in two of the passages – the words “pour[ed] out.” In the Joel passage, the Spirit is poured out on the whole people, empowering and equipping them to bear witness to the things of God. In the passage from 2 Timothy, the author (assumed to be Paul in the text) claims to have been “poured out as a libation.” That is, he is being offered up as an offering to God. The words don’t appear in the Lukan parable, but consider the cry of the tax collector, he pours out his heart before God, seeking forgiveness. It could be that the Spirit is being poured out upon us, or it may be that the calling of God has led to our being poured out as an offering, or perhaps it is the need to pour out the heart to God so as to receive God’s gracious offer of forgiveness. Whatever is the case, we are being called upon to rest our lives in the hands of God.

If there is this common word usage, the passages themselves take us in different directions. Each is well known to many people of faith. The Joel passage has long been familiar to me as it has been used as a basis of Pentecostal theology. The second half of the passage serves as a foundation for Peter’s sermon in Acts 2, where he interprets the events of the Pentecost experience in light of this very text. In Peter’s mind (as presented by Luke), Joel’s promises of the coming of the Spirit upon the people of God so that young and old, male and female, slave and free might bear witness to God’s grace is being fulfilled. The first half has been used by Pentecostal preachers to suggest that the renewed Pentecostal experience of the 20th century is itself a fulfillment of Joel, and thus is a sign that God is winding things down. What had been lost, as Aimee Semple McPherson, declared in a famous sermon, has now been restored. Now is the time of the Latter Rain. Whatever our sense of the Pentecostal interpretation, there is a strong promise here that God is at work restoring that which is broken.

In the letter to Timothy, the author (named here as Paul) is reflecting on his own life, and acknowledging that the end is near. He has fought the good fight and has finished the race. He did what God had called upon him to do. He has no regrets, for he now awaits the “crown of righteousness,” which awaits all those who long for the appearing of Christ Jesus. Yes, it has been difficult at times – witness the report of the opposition and even abandonment by friends and supporters. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, because even if his human friends abandoned him – I picture the author identifying himself with Jesus on the night of his betrayal – the Lord has stood with him. Yes, the Lord has stood with him so that the message of God might be proclaimed to the Gentiles. He has been rescued from attacks by those who would do him evil, but now the heavenly realm awaits him, he is content, and so he can stop and offer praise to God for his glory.

The Lukan Parable is brief, powerful, and requiring a bit of caution as we approach it. The point of the parable is to address those who put their trust in their own righteousness, and not only that but treat others with contempt. Yes, this is a parable that challenges our tendency toward self-righteousness. “But, by the grace of God, goes me,” we might like to say. We think of this sentiment as giving praise to God, but does it really? Are we not suggesting that God somehow loves us more than the other, which is why we’re not down on our luck?

The person in this passage who goes home forgiven, after going to the Temple to pray, is a Tax Collector. As we all know, tax collectors have been despised since the beginning of time. For a tax collector to refer to the self as a “miserable sinner” would be deemed appropriate by most of us. This man, who has gone to the Temple, acts in a manner appropriate to one who has sinned. He dare not look up into the heavens, for that would be the height of arrogance. No, he bowed his head low, as a sign of his contrition for his misdeeds. He beats his breast as a sign of his grief at his actions in life, and asks that God would be merciful to him for he is a mere sinner.

The moral of the story is that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. Or as Jesus says elsewhere, the last shall be first, and the first last. So, where is the problem?

Ah, yes, the problem with this text is that Luke contrasts the unrighteous, but forgiven Tax Collector with the self-righteous, but unforgiven, Pharisee. How often do we use the Pharisee as the example of the self-righteous, stuffed shirt, sort? Even with the best of intentions, we can slip into such usage, when in fact, despite the animus seemingly present in the gospels, the Pharisees were devout, broadminded, faithful, tithers even (who wouldn’t want a few of those in a church?). But, by focusing our attention on the “Pharisee,” as a member of a religious party, we might miss something much more important. As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson note in their lectionary commentary, this passage uncovers an attitude that is potentially present in all of us, “the ease with which we turn the love of God into self-adulation, the pride we take in our humility” (Williamson and Allen, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, WJK, 2004, p. 243). The parable then confronts us with an attitude that marks many of us, in which we turn God’s unconditional love into “a condition apart from which God is not free to love, a condition that, presumably, we have met but others have not.” The Tax-Collector, on the other hand, had no such allusions that he was the beneficiary of God’s unconditional love, and therefore he didn’t take it for granted or assume that he was on the inside already. Jesus commends him for his willingness to honestly pour out his heart before God, making himself more receptive to God’s unconditional love. May such be true for each of us.

Republished from [D]mergent

Rekindling the Fire -- A Lectionary Meditation

Lamentations 1:1-6


2 Timothy 1:1-14

Luke 17:5-10

Rekindling the Fire

Over time a person’s faith can begin to grow cold. One’s sense of calling can diminish as well. The difficulties of life and ministry can become overwhelming, and maybe you’d just as soon give up. Perhaps, the context of life has become challenging and you wonder what will come of one’s future. It is in the midst of this sense of doubt and questioning of one’s purpose in life, that we hear two words of encouragement – one stands as a call to “rekindle the calling” and the other suggests that if only we have faith the size of a mustard seed we can replant a mulberry tree in the sea. Luke’s rendition might not suggest casting mountains into the sea, but maybe planting trees in seas is sufficient for the day. But we need to remember the context, the situation we find ourselves in.

As I read the opening line of Lamentations – “How lonely sits the city that once was full of people,” I couldn’t help but thinking of Detroit. Like many industrial cities, it has suffered a steep decline in population. But even more troubling than the decline of people, who once filled the city, is the sense of its change in status. A half century ago it was the sixth largest city in the country, but now it is barely in the top 20. The princess is now a vassal. Indeed, her friends have dealt treacherously with her. Yes, I know that Jeremiah is weeping over Jerusalem and the exiles from Judah, but does not this text speak so clearly to once mighty American cities? And no city has become a by-word for despair more than Detroit. It is in the shadow of this once great city that I do ministry. I may not live nor do I serve a church in the city, but the city casts its shadow, and I feel its pain.

It is in the context of situations such as this that we must hear the letter to Timothy. Yes, I know that Paul likely didn’t write this letter, nor did Paul’s companion probably receive it. But the message remains true – we have been given a gift through the laying on of hands, a gift that needs rekindling every once in awhile. When we become discouraged it is good to hear the message – God didn’t give us a spirit of cowardice or timidity, but instead God has given us a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline. We have what we need to go forward into the world, to bring healing to where there is woundedness and brokenness. We may experience suffering. I’ve just finished reading a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and it again reminds us of the suffering he endured because of what he thought was the right thing to do. It was his calling, which was stirred up and rekindled, so that he might have courage. We have a holy calling, which this letter suggests was given to us before “the ages began.” Before there was time, there was a calling, a calling that comes to us in Christ. Like the author of this letter, we have been appointed as heralds, apostles, and as teachers. And there is no shame in this calling. As a result, we may entrust our lives, our futures, and our faith, to the one who will guard this faith with the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us.

After reading the powerful tones of the 2nd letter to Timothy, this passage from the gospel seems to fall flat. In response to a request that Jesus would increase their faith, Jesus says all you need is the faith of a mustard seed, and then you plant trees in the sea. That seems okay and encouraging, but then Jesus tells this parable about tending sheep and plowing fields. Who would, Jesus asks, offer the servant a place at the table. No, the servant, after doing all the other work in the field, is expected to come home and cook dinner. Only then, after everyone else has eaten, then he or she can eat and relax. And then when all is done, we can sit back and say of ourselves: We are worthless slaves; we’ve done only what we should have done.” I find it hard to receive this word, for how can I be a worthless slave, when I have been entrusted with the gospel and with eternal life?

I struggle with the gospel text, because it seems overly pessimistic and derogatory, but I understand the feeling of “woe is me.” But as I think of my struggles with this text, I’m drawn back to Lamentations and wish to know how this text speaks to Detroit, a once great city that has lost so many of its people, who now stand in exile. That exile might take them into the next county, they maybe the ones who inhabit the church I serve, or maybe they’ve left for places far away. I don’t know, but I hear the cries and I wonder about the future. I wonder about the friends who have turned into enemies, those who take some glee in the decline of the city – not just Detroit, but definitely including Detroit.

May we discern God’s gifts and message for a time such as this.

Reposted from [D]mergent, a Disciples of Christ oriented blog I write for each week.