Who Are You? – a Lenten Blog Tour Meditation

 

The chief priests and the whole council were looking for false testimony against Jesus so that they could put him to death. They didn’t find anything they could use from the many false witnesses who were willing to come forward. But finally they found two who said, “This man said, ‘I can destroy God’s temple and rebuild it in three days.’”

Then the high priest stood and said to Jesus, “Aren’t you going to respond to the testimony these people have brought against you?”

But Jesus was silent.

The high priest said, “By the living God, I demand that you tell us whether you are the Christ, God’s Son.”

“You said it,” Jesus replied. “But I say to you that from now on you’ll see the Human One sitting on the right side of the Almighty and coming on the heavenly clouds.”

Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “He’s insulting God! Why do we need any more witnesses? Look, you’ve heard his insult against God. What do you think?”

And they answered, “He deserves to die!” Then they spit in his face and beat him. They hit him and said, “Prophesy for us, Christ! Who hit you?” (Matthew 26:57-68, Common English Bible).

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I answered the call to write a meditation for the Common English Bible Lenten Blog Tour, and due to a misreading of the schedule, I wrote a meditation on Jesus’ arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. Fortunately, I realized my error in time to take up the assigned text, which is the one that follows after the arrest of Jesus. In the former story, a sword wielding mob, led by one of Jesus own disciples, comes looking for Jesus in the night so that they might arrest him. We watch as Judas betrays him with a kiss, while another disciple lashes out with his sword. In the end Jesus is taken into custody and his disciples flee into the night, though as see in the passage under consideration today, Peter does follow the crowd at a distance, and then finds a seat in the company of the officers of the guard. In their company, at a distance, he watches as Caiaphas the High Priest seeks to find a way of getting rid of Jesus.

The “trial,” like the arrest, takes place under the cover of darkness, reminding us that this is all a battle between light and darkness, good and evil. As we watch this trial unfold – at a distance – perhaps our thoughts will go back to the prayer that Jesus taught Disciples (Matthew 6:9-13), wherein he instructs followers to make this request of God: “And don’t lead us into temptation, but rescue us from the evil one” (Mt. 6:13). This phrase from the prayer is important, because Jesus now finds himself in that very place of being tempted by evil. I realize that in making this assessment I have to be careful, because there’s a long tradition of using passages like this to tar the Jewish people with blame for Jesus’ death on the cross. While it’s true that Matthew couches this “trial” in doctrinal terms, we must remember that Caiaphas serves at the behest of the Roman government, and though they are looking for an excuse to kill him, any authority to do so must come from Rome, and Rome really doesn’t care about intra-Jewish doctrinal debates. They are, however, interested in political rabble-rousers, and in the eyes of both the Temple Leadership and the Imperial Leadership, Jesus has the marks of a troublemaker.

What is very interesting in Matthew’s portrayal of this trial is that the leadership is acting in ways that are contrary to the very Law they are sworn to uphold – not Roman Law, but the Commandments of God. In suborning perjury, which they’re doing as they seek out false witnesses to provide suitable evidence to send him on for execution, they face the dilemma of needing two witnesses who will agree in order to convict (Deut. 17:6). Although they find two witnesses who testify that Jesus allegedly said that he would destroy the temple and then rebuild it in three days (no textual evidence for this), they had what they needed, even though in getting it they break one of the Ten Commandments – the command to not bear false witness (Deut. 5:20). This encounter reminds us that it’s easy to fall prey to temptation, if it seems to achieve our desired results.

There’s another issue, however, that stands out in this passage and it’s the one that triggered the question that forms the title of this meditation. Caiaphas thinks he has an answer to the question of Jesus identity, and to paraphrase, he says to Jesus I believe that you believe that you are “the Christ, God’s Son?” So, own it, won’t you! What’s interesting in this “accusation” is that Caiaphas is quoting, in a sense, Peter’s Good Confession (Mt. 16:16), the one Peter made in answer to Jesus’ question – who do you say that I am?

All that Jesus will answer is –“You said it.” That is, you’ve made the confession, but do you believe it? The fact that Caiaphas is grilling Jesus in this possibly illegal “trial” makes it clear that Caiaphas is making no such confession. What gets Caiaphas really upset is Jesus’ next statement, which takes on an apocalyptic tone. Jesus says in essence, I am the Human One (Son of Man) and soon I’ll be sitting at the right hand of the Almighty (that is, next to the judgment seat of God), and I’ll be returning riding on the heavenly clouds. You have the sense here that Jesus is promising to get his revenge. Now, of course, that kind of language makes me uncomfortable, so I have to wrestle with it. As for Caiaphas, this is all he needs – Jesus has blasphemed God, or to use the CEB rendering – he is “insulting God.”

As we continue our journey toward Good Friday and then Easter, the question that Caiaphas raises still stands: Who is Jesus? This is an important question, because how I answer that question will help define my identity. Am I like Caiaphas and find Jesus’ claims to be God’s right hand blasphemous? Or is this my own confession of faith? But pushing this farther, how does this conversation fit with the question that Jesus posed to Peter, which elicited from Peter to confession that Jesus was the Christ and God’s Son (Matthew 26:69ff). But not only that, when we make such a confession are we willing to go all the way with it, or as we see with Peter in the passage that follows, will we deny even knowing him? Perhaps not in words, but in deeds? Or, maybe, going back to the beginning of this passage, are we simply follow Jesus at a distance?

As I was thinking about how to deal with this passage I picked up Stanley Hauerwas’s theological commentary on Matthew and I came upon this intriguing comment:

“Following at a distance” is a wonderful description of the way most of us follow Jesus. We want, as Peter wanted, to see how all this will end before we commit ourselves. Unfortunately, that strategy means that we cannot help but end up sitting with the guardians of the established order. (Hauerwas, Matthew, pp. 225-226)

So, where are we in this mix? Are we back with Peter making the Good Confession (Matthew 16:16)? Are we denying we know Jesus? Or, are we simply hanging back, waiting to see how this thing plays out before committing ourselves to something? And if we do the latter, do we not, as Hauerwas suggests, place ourselves at the disposal of the established order?

These are questions that are worth considering as we make our way through Holy Week and wrestle with the question – who is Jesus and what does my answer to that question demand of me as a person of faith?

Important note:

This meditation on Jesus’ trial is provided as part of the Lenten Blog Tour that is designed to highlight and support the new Common English Bible. During this Lenten tour, 41 bloggers have offered their own reflections on the biblical text, using the CEB as their starting point. (See all of the reflections here.) The people from the CEB have offered to provide a copy of the CEB New Testament to a random commenter willing to provide me with their email address.

Sheathing the Sword – a Holy Week Meditation

While Jesus was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, came. With him was a large crowd carrying swords and clubs. They had been sent by the chief priests and elders of the people. His betrayer had given them a sign: Arrest the man I kiss. Just then he came to Jesus and said, “Hello, Rabbi.” Then he kissed him.

But Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you came to do.” Then they came and grabbed Jesus and arrested him.

One of those with Jesus reached for his sword. Striking the high priest’s slave, he cut off his ear. Then Jesus said to him, “Put the sword back into its place. All those who use the sword will die by the sword. Or do you think that I’m not able to ask my Father and he will send to me more than twelve battle groups? But if I did that, how would the scriptures be fulfilled that say this must happen? ” Then Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come with swords and clubs to arrest me, like a thief? Day after day, I sat in the temple teaching, but you didn’t arrest me. But all this has happened so that what the prophets said in the scriptures might be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples left Jesus and ran away. (Matthew 26:47-36 Common English Bible)

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I accepted an opportunity to write a meditation for the Common English Bible Lenten Blog Tour, and so I worked on the assigned passage – only to discover that I had read the schedule wrong and wrote a meditation for the text assigned a day earlier to someone else. So, I would like to share this meditation with you and invite you to return tomorrow to read the continuing story of Jesus’ Holy Week Journey.

During the Lenten season we are continually reminded that the path of discipleship is a difficult road to navigate. As Jesus reminds us in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) it is a narrow path that few are willing to embark upon, for it costs us much to take this path. It can involve facing insults and even persecution. Indeed, if one continues reading past the end of the story above, it becomes clear that the road can lead to death.

In the passage we are invited to contemplate today we find Jesus facing betrayal, abandonment, and arrest. It is clear that, at least for this moment in time, Jesus is forced to take this narrow path alone, having been betrayed and abandoned by those closest to him.

As we consider this passage our attention is quickly grabbed by the mob that comes looking for Jesus in the night. They’re led by one of Jesus’ own disciples, who betrays him with a kiss – that most intimate of gestures. At the end of the story, Jesus is arrested and the disciples flee. There are two other images, however, that I’d like to lift up. The first is the contrast between light and darkness, and the second is the sword.

It is important to note that this event occurs under the cover of darkness. As Jesus points out to those who come to arrest him, he had been teaching openly in the Temple – in the daytime – but that’s not when they came to arrest him. Instead they come at night, in the darkness, armed with swords and clubs, as if he is a thief in the night. By pointing this out, he shines a light on their efforts. They operate under the influence of darkness.

The other image is that of the sword, which in many ways also functions as a symbol of darkness. The mob itself comes armed with swords and clubs, with which they intend to demonstrate their power to control the situation. We’ve seen mobs like this beating protesters in Syria, Iran, Egypt, Libya, Zimbabwe, and Ivory Coast. A generation ago in this country the mob beat civil rights marchers – and many times these violent mobs wore the marks of the state. But the mob isn’t the only carrier of the sword. Here in Matthew 26, we read that one of the disciples pulls out his sword and strikes the servant of the High Priest. The person isn’t named here, and Mark is even less clear, with the bearer of the sword apparently a bystander, and interestingly, John goes the other direction and names Peter as the sword bearer. Whoever this person is, Jesus tells him to put his sword away, for he is not in need of their defense. After all, if necessary God would send twelve battle groups/legions of angels to defend him, but all of this takes place in fulfillment of the scriptures.

But, whoever this person is, and whatever protective measures Jesus might call upon, I find it interesting, and even troubling that a follower of the Prince of Peace is carrying a sword. I wonder where did this sword come from, and why is this person wielding it? Did this disciple not understand Jesus when he taught them in the Sermon on the Mount to not retaliate, but instead turn the other cheek? As I think of this person, I think as well of those gun toting preachers we’ve been hearing about.

Despite the turmoil of the moment, Jesus doesn’t let a teachable moment get away from him, and so he tells the crowd: “All those who use the sword will die by the sword.” In making this claim, Jesus doesn’t leave any wiggle room. There are no exceptions to this rule. Indeed, he doesn’t even exempt the military or the police. There’s no clause that gives permission for self-defense. He simply reminds us that if you choose the way of the sword, then you will find yourself in an endless cycle of violence.

If we choose to live by the sword, then eventually we’ll suffer the consequences of that choice. And history is full of examples of this truth. One war leads to another. When World War I was launched it was supposed to be the war to end all wars, and yet, just a two decades later, the World was again embroiled in war. Many thought that the end of World War II would usher in an era of peace, but that didn’t last long. And now, the nation of my birth, is fully engaged in two wars and living on the edge of another. Conflict rages across the world leading to death and destruction in region after region. Yes, when we embrace the way of the sword, it is difficult to walk away.

As for me, I hear in this word a call to embrace nonviolence. I believe that it is the way of the Kingdom. I will admit that the realist in me has kept me from embracing pacifism, but as I move toward Good Friday and then Easter, I hear this challenge very clearly, and I wonder what this means for the way I live my faith in public? What does it mean for me to truly follow the one who calls for the sword to be sheathed even as he faced death on the cross. And I hear this question raised in the context of Jesus contrast of darkness and light, and I wonder, am I ready to walk in the light?

Living within the Reign of God: Sermons on the Sermon on the Mount

The “Sermon on the Mount” is the best known and perhaps most challenging speeches/sermons from the Gospels. It’s not a mere compilation of sayings attributed to Jesus, but in the hands of Matthew it becomes a tightly organized and powerful speech that lays out for us Jesus’ vision of what life in God’s Realm should like. It is a rather radical, even revolutionary vision that challenges the way we live our lives in this world. It calls on us to examine our allegiances, and asks us whether we’re willing to live for God or for some other claimant – including our nation. It is to be noted that standing at the center of this sermon is the Lord’s Prayer, which serves as a pledge of allegiance to God and the cause of God’s reign. In the course of Jesus’ sermon, he touches on our calling to be salt and light, reworks the nature of the Law, refocuses our worship, and calls on us to live lives of loving kindness. It closes with warnings of judgment and a call to build our lives of faith on strong foundations.

Although this sermon series begins with Matthew 5:1, the setting for the sermons begins in Matthew 4:23 and continues through 4:25:

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people. So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics, and he cured them. And great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan

Having ministered among the people of Galilee and with people coming from as far away as Jerusalem in the south and Syria to the north, Jesus gathers the people together on the mountain top (in Luke it is on a plain), and shares his message of what God’s kingdom looks like.

In the course of nine sermons that preached through the last portion of Epiphany and through Lent, I explored with Central Woodward Christian Church this important statement of what is often called the “Kingdom Ethic.” I now offer it to you as we begin Holy Week.  Below you will find links to each of the sermons as published here at Ponderings on a Faith Journey (audio is available for many of the sermons at the CWCC sermon page).

The question is – are we meant to live it now, or must we await a different age when we no longer face the challenges and temptations of this life? That is, should we simply admire the idea, but leave it aside as being unrealistic for the present day? Or, should we model our lives upon its statement?

January 30 Happy People? Matthew 5:1-12

February 6 Light Bearing Faith Matthew 5:13-20

February 13 Law and Order Matthew 5:21-37

February 27 The Law of Love Matthew 5:38-48

March 13 Putting on a Show Matthew 6:1-18

March 20 What Should I Desire Most? Matthew 6:19-34
March 27 Judge not, lest Ye . . . Matthew 7:1-14

April 3 Judgment Day Matthew 7:15-23

April 10 Laying Strong Foundations Matthew 7:24-29

“The faith-community of the blessed is the community of the Crucified. With him they lost everything, and with him they found everything. Now the word comes down from the cross: blessed, blessed.” [Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship. DBW Vol. 4. (Fortress Press, 2001), p. 109].

Welcoming the Fallen and the Scattered -- a Lenten Devotion

Peter's Denial of Jesus

31 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “ Tonight you will all fall away because of me. For it is written, I will hit the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will go off in all directions,  32 But after I’m raised up, I’ll go before you to Galilee. ”


33 Peter replied, “ If everyone else stumbles because of you, I’ll never stumble. ”

34 Jesus said to him, “ I assure you that, before the rooster crows tonight, you will deny me three times. ”


35 Peter said, “ Even if I must die alongside you, I won’t deny you. ” All the disciples said the same thing.   (Matthew 26:31-35  CEB)

Even if everyone else abandons you, I won’t. I’ll stay by your side until the bitter end. This was Peter’s response to Jesus’ prediction that in the coming hours the disciples would abandon him. Jesus seems to have understood only too well that things were coming to a head, and he wanted to prepare the disciples for what was coming. Peter, who was rather impulsive, often threw himself into the thick of things. He was a risk taker, but more often than not he fell short of his goal. Of course, that didn’t stop him from stepping out in front. When Jesus asked the disciples to say who he was, Peter gave the good confession, and then demonstrated that he and Jesus had a different understanding of what it meant to be the Christ (Mt. 16:13-20). But Jesus didn’t reject Peter – though he did refer to him as Satan (perhaps not so much Peter as the temptation to follow Peter’s “advice.”).

Now, as the time of Jesus’ betrayal drew near, Peter assures Jesus that he will stand firm, but Jesus knows his friend all too well. He tells Peter, before the cock crows announcing the dawn of the morning light, you will have denied me three times. Jesus isn’t condemning Peter he’s just saying that this is what will happen.

The key to this brief passage of scripture isn’t the prediction that the flock will scatter or even that Peter will deny Jesus. The key to the passage comes in the middle, between the two predictions. Jesus offers a command: “After I am raised up, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.” Jesus recognizes the frailty of their faith, but then gives a word of direction. After I’ve been resurrected, I’ll meet you in Galilee. Take heart, even though you might scatter, I will be there to gather you back to myself.

As we draw closer to Holy Week, it is good to remember our own frailty, to remember how often we hold our tongue rather than speak out in support of the common good. It is good to remember that we are as likely as the disciples to make promises we fail to keep. We too scatter when things difficult. We might even deny we know Jesus on occasion, but the good news is that Jesus says to us – though you’ll deny me, I’ll meet you up north and we’ll get back to work. In the midst of betrayal there is this promise of grace that sustains our lives, and without it we would fall into despair (as did Judas). The difference between Peter and Judas is not in their betrayals of Jesus, but in their ultimate responses. What Peter seemed to understand better than did Judas was the grace that Jesus extended to the disciples and to the world. May we understand this offer of grace, not so we can abuse it (cheapening it by playing games with God), but as the foundation for stepping out in faith and taking the necessary risks to live fully into the realm of God. Fear of failure keeps most of us from venturing out on the path of faith, but Peter discovered that when we step out in faith there is one there to lift us up when we fall, so that we might continue the journey into maturity.

Modified from devotion for April 13, 2011, published in the CWCC Lenten Devotional, edited by John McCauslin.  Image borrowed from Internet Church of Chapel Hill. 

 

Betrayal -- A Lenten Devotion

Matthew 26:14-16

What will you give me to betray him? That is the question that Judas Iscariot poses to the chief priests in Matthew’s gospel. Down through the centuries there have been many suggestions as to why Judas decided to do this. The typical explanation is that he was greedy and saw an opportunity to make a few bucks off of Jesus. Even the gospels seem to suggest this, with John noting that Judas kept the money bag (Jn. 13:26-30). The unanswered question has always been – but why would someone so close to Jesus do such a thing? And, why would he return the money and kill himself after seeing that Jesus had been crucified.

Answers to these questions have been many. John suggests that Satan entered him. Others have suggested that Jesus had asked Judas to do this, so that his own plan might be fulfilled. Still others have suggested that Judas was part of the anti-Roman conspiracy and hoped that by seeing Jesus arrested the people would rise up against the Romans to save him.

I don’t know the answer to these questions, because I don’t know enough about Judas. He simply appears in the story and then disappears with his death. It’s possible that every group has its bad apples, and Judas is just Jesus’ bad apple. But I think there’s more to the story, especially as it relates to us as we make our way toward Good Friday and then Easter.

Judas isn’t the only one to betray Jesus. Yes, he’s the only one who takes an active role in getting Jesus arrested, but it appears that the Disciples fled when Jesus was arrested. Peter denies knowing him, and neither Peter, James, nor John, can stay awake with Jesus as he prays in the Garden.

Betrayal, that is a strong word, but do we not betray Jesus in our own lives? Do we not deny him in the way we live in the world? We sing the old song, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love,” and yet too often there is little love to be seen in the Christian community.

If all we do with this text is throw Judas under the bus then his story likely won’t make much of an impression on our lives. Perhaps it is good to ask the question: In what way does my life reflect Judas’s?

Previously published in the CWCC 2011 Lenten Devotional, edited by John McCauslin.

Building on Strong Foundations -- Sermon #9 on the Sermon on the Mount

Matthew 7:24-29

Remember back when this sermon began – no, not my sermon, but Jesus’ sermon? Remember how Jesus had decided to get away from the crowds that had been coming from as far away as Syria in the north and Judea in the South to hear him speak and maybe be healed? He took his disciples up on the mountain so he could teach them about God’s realm in peace and quiet. As you remember, he began with the Beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in Spirit, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are those who are meek or are merciful, and so on. At least from the way Matthew seems to tell it, you’d assume that just Jesus and the disciples have gathered on that mountain. But as we come to the end of Jesus’ sermon, the group dynamics have changed. Without so much as a head’s up we hear that “when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teachings . . .” Where did the crowds come from? How did this small group bible study or ministry staff meeting become a convention?

1. Wise and Foolish Builders

Now that the audience has grown from a few dozen into the hundreds, we find Jesus closing out his sermon with a parable about two kinds of builders: wise ones and foolish ones. I don’t know about you, but if I were going to build a house, I’d want to choose the right builder; one who not only had the right credentials, but understood the lay of the land. After all, none of us want to watch as our house gets washed away by the storm.

When it comes to rain, you may have heard the song that claims that “it never rains in Southern California.” In case you’ve never been to California and think that it’s sunny all the time, I can attest to the fact that it does rain, and when it rains in Southern California, it pours. And, when it rains, especially if there have been fires, which are common in Southern California, there likely will be mud slides as well. That means, that if you have live in a house on a hill overlooking the ocean, you had better hope that you’ve hired a wise builder, or your house might end up in the ocean!

So, wisdom is a necessary quality in a builder, and a wise builder will not only know how to build a house, but the builder also will know where to build it, taking into consideration such things as climate, soil, bedrock, and plate tectonics. Then, when the rain comes, that house won’t fall into the ocean.

2. Two Types of Foundations

This parable has two main elements. The first element is the quality of the builder, but the second element has to do with the foundation, and as we think about the foundation upon which we build our own spiritual lives, I’d like to switch the metaphor from floods to earthquakes. Being from the West Coast, I’ve experienced a few earthquakes and I’ve seen the destruction that they can bring.

Although I wasn’t there when that 6.0 earthquake hit my hometown of Klamath Falls in 1993, I think that it illustrates Jesus’ point very well. That quake, which hit just a few days after we returned home from a visit with my Mother, was pretty good-sized, especially when you consider that quakes don’t hit Klamath Falls very often, and so they weren’t all that prepared for it. Quite a number of buildings were damaged, including the venerable Court House, which had sat for many years on reclaimed lake bed. When the quake hit, it essentially liquefied the soil, and that seemingly well-built stone building collapsed. Ironically, just down the street sits the Baldwin Hotel, which is the oldest building in town. I don’t know how well this unreinforced brick building from the late 19th century was built, but it didn’t suffer any damage at all. In fact, not one thing even moved during that very large and destructive quake, not even a picture sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. You see that builder very wisely built the hotel on solid bedrock. This was a very “firm foundation.”

The Court House was well-built, but it was built on sand, while the rickety old hotel was built on bedrock – two very different foundations, with very different outcomes.

3. Acting on the Word of Jesus

The wise builder builds on a firm foundation, and with this word in mind, we hear Jesus say that “everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock” and not on sand – like the foolish builder.

As I reflected on these words after I returned home from yesterday’s Elders Meeting, where Alex led the Elders in a team building exercise to help us reflect on our call to be a missional church, my thoughts went immediately to the scripture that Alex asked us to reflect on from the Letter of James. In this letter we find the words: “But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves” (James 1:22ff). According to James, if we simply hear the Word of God, but don’t act upon it, then we’re like the person who looks in a mirror and then goes off and forgets what they look like. When we’re hearers only and not doers, then we fail to practice a religion that is pure and undefiled before God, a religion that involves not just religious acts, but more importantly involves caring for the orphan and widow in their distress.

With this word from James in mind, we hear the word of Jesus who also tells his disciples that if they’re to enter the realm of God, then they must be doers and not just hearers, for that wouldn’t be a wise choice. And, as for what Jesus wants us to not only hear but do, the path forward is revealed throughout his sermon, which we’ve been pondering these past several weeks. And as we’ve been discovering as we’ve been on this journey, this isn’t an easy path to take. There have been many who’ve started out on the journey, only to turn back, but we do have few guides for the journey – people like St. Francis tried and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. And there’s Gandhi who found great inspiration in these words, even if he didn’t find much inspirations from the lives of Jesus’ followers.

The Sermon on the Mount is an invitation to enter the Realm of God. Jesus describes what it means to live under the reign of God, not just in heaven, but on earth as well. But that means living our lives differently, which is what I think James means when he calls on the church to “keep ourselves unstained from the world.” This is also what it means to pray the Lord’s Prayer and ask that God’s will would be done on earth as in heaven. In praying this prayer, we pledge our allegiance to God, so that we might live our lives in such a way that we’ll be salt and light in the world; that we won’t act out of anger or commit adultery; we’ll keep our word without needing to take an oath; and we won’t retaliate against those who hurt us. And, while the Law tells us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, we will also love our enemies and not make a show of our piety. As for our treasure, we will deposit it in a heavenly bank and not worry about tomorrow, which will take care of itself. If we’re living under the reign of God, we’ll leave the job of judging others to God and not profane that which is holy. To live under the reign of God means doing for others, as we would have them do for us.

The way of the kingdom means taking the narrow path, which is difficult for us to navigate, at least on our own. We could decide, as some have, to simply file this sermon (of Jesus) under the heading – “Not for Earthly Lives – Heaven Only.” I think this would alleviate a lot of guilt, but I wonder if that is what Jesus had in mind. After all, when he contrasted the wise and foolish builders, Jesus seemed to suggest that now is the time to not only hear his words, but to act upon them. This, he says, is to be like the wise builder.

Jesus’ closing words find an echo in a book I mentioned in a sermon a few weeks ago. In his book Falling Upward, Fr. Richard Rohr asks his readers whether they’ve laid a solid foundation for their lives in Jesus Christ, so that the Spirit might help them build upon this foundation and embrace God’s future for their lives, for the church and for the world. This is, he suggests, the path to spiritual maturity, a path that is very much like the one Jesus outlines in the Sermon on the Mount. Like Jesus, Rohr invites us to live a life of wisdom, one that is based on a firm foundation in Jesus Christ, so that we might embrace the mission of God.

It isn’t an easy path, but as our closing hymn declares, having laid a foundation in God’s excellent word, then we can find our strength for the journey in God’s unwavering love, which leads us to declare this word of faith as we sing the final stanza of this great hymn of the faith:

The soul that on Jesus still leans for repose,

I will not, I will not, desert to its foes;

that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I’ll never, no never, no never forsake. (How Firm a Foundation)

Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Troy, Michigan
Sixth Sunday of Lent
April 10, 2011

Judgment Day -- Sermon #8 on the Sermon on the Mount

Matthew 7:15-23

“Judgment Day!” Don’t these words sound ominous? Perhaps suggesting the end is near, they create in us the urge to get our affairs in order, just in case. If Hollywood is any guide, judgment can take many forms. You might remember that the 1938 Orson Welles radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds caused a nationwide panic as people pondered their fate in the face of a Martian attack. Maybe you remember the 1980s TV miniseries entitled The Day After, which may not have caused a panic, but did reinforce our fear of nuclear annihilation during the height of the Cold War. Then there are the movies and miniseries about earthquakes, volcanoes, asteroids, climate change, and even a Mayan calendar, all themes that are suggestive of divine judgment. And if that’s not enough, when a war breaks out or a major disaster hits, the TV preachers announce that this is a sign of divine judgment. Yes, a certain amount of anxiety over our impending doom seems to continually ripple through our world – whether the cause is of divine or human origin.

When it comes to the issue of divine judgment, there are plenty of biblical texts to ponder. There are texts that speak of divine wrath, judgment, punishment, atonement and more. For those of us who affirm the principle that God is love, this can be a bit disconcerting. Even if we affirm that God is also a just God, all of these texts that deal with wrath and judgment can be a bit overwhelming. So what should we make of these words about judgment and justice?

In our text this morning, which is drawn once again from the Sermon on the Mount, we hear two different, but related words. The first speaks to the importance of discernment. Even if we’re not supposed to take up the job of being a judge over others, we must discern between good and evil, light and darkness. The second word speaks to divine judgment. This is a task that we dare not take up, for we’re not equipped to handle the job. But, Jesus seems to believe that we need to be aware of the judgment of God, and the basis upon which God makes this judgment.

1. The Fruit and the Trees

Although it might not be appropriate for us to be judges – unless we are without sin – that doesn’t mean we should be naive about the world in which we live. There is a place for discernment in the Christian life. As they say, don’t believe everything you hear (or read in an email). For instance, if someone from Nigeria sends you an email asking for you to send a $100 check in exchange for a million dollars, you might want to be just a bit skeptical. And if you get an email from a bank – especially if it’s not your bank, asking for your personal ID, you might want to hit the delete button. And if someone sends you an email suggesting the President was born in Kenya or Indonesia, you would be wise to ignore it as well.

As Jesus reminds us, we live in a world where vicious wolves like to dress up as sheep. Therefore, as he says in another place – “be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves” (Matt. 10:16). In other words, don’t let yourself be taken for a fool.

The good news is that we can discern the difference between sheep and wolves, false prophets and prophets of God. Jesus says – look at the fruit of their lives. After all, good trees don’t produce bad fruit. So, don’t expect to find grapes growing on thorn bushes and thistles that produce figs. These are weeds that are destined for the fires.

When it comes to discerning the good fruit from the bad, we might want to use the Beatitudes as a guide – think of the kinds of people who grieve, are humble, merciful, peacemakers, and more. We might also look to Paul’s description of the fruit of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit. On one hand there’s the flesh or our selfish desire, which lead to hate, violence, immorality, jealousy and drunkenness. On the other there is the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against these signs of the kingdom, Paul says, there is no law (Gal. 5:16-26). If we attend to these qualities of life, then we’ll know the difference between light and darkness, good and evil.

2. Divine Judgment

Even if we’re called to be discerning but not judges, God does have the job of being the judge. Scripture has a lot to say about judgment, though as we learned last week, we can trust in the judgment of God because of God’s character. We start with the premise that God is love and that God is good.

As we consider this word from the Sermon on the Mount, we hear Jesus say that on that day – judgment day – not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a prophet or a preacher or that you cast out demons in the name of Jesus – if you don’t obey the will of the Father, then on the day of judgment you’ll hear the words: “I never knew you: Go away from me you evil-doers.”

The basis of this judgment isn’t revealed in this passage, but we can turn to Matthew 25 to find out more about divine judgment. In that passage, we hear Jesus speak of God dividing sheep from goats based on how they treated the least of Jesus’s brothers and sisters. Did they feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, or visit those who are sick and in prison? It’s on this basis that Jesus decides who enters the realm of God and who experiences punishment. We may not like this word, but it’s there for us to wrestle with.

When it comes to the matter of divine judgment, the Scriptures often focus on social structures and relationships. Even when the focus is on sexual immorality, it seems quite evident that the issue is one of exploitation of the other. Sometimes we dwell on the idea of punishment, but that’s not the point of divine judgment, which is focused first and foremost on reconciliation. Rather than focus on satisfying God’s honor, the focus is on setting things right, what some call restorative justice. Consider this word that Jeremiah gives to the son of Josiah:

He (Josiah) judged the cause of the poor and the needy; then it was well. Is not this to know me? Says the Lord. But in your eyes and heart are only your dishonest gain, for shedding innocent blood, and for practicing oppression and violence. (Jer. 22:16-17).

According to Jeremiah, King Josiah understood that his primary role as king was to protect the weak, the poor, and the marginalized, but the son of Josiah ruled through oppression and violence, something God would not bless.

If the ultimate purpose of divine judgment, is focused on setting things right and reconciliation, then our call as Disciples to be “a movement of wholeness in a fragmented world,” fits this calling very well. We may not be judges, but we can participate in God’s work of healing and reconciliation, an effort that extends beyond this world to the cosmos itself. As theologian Jürgen Moltman puts it, God is concerned about the “universal reconciliation of human beings and the bringing again of all things into the new eternal creation.” This is because, as Moltmann puts it: “otherwise, God would not be God.” [Jurgen Moltmann, The Sun of Righteousness Arise! (Fortress, 2010), p. 141] Since God is intent on reconciling all things to God’s self, we needn’t fear the day of judgment. Even if we don’t know how or when all of this will happen, we can live in the hope that God will reconcile all things to God’s self. But not only that, but we get to participate in this act of God by being Christ’s ambassadors of reconciliation. Our primary calling in life is to bear witness to the world in our words and deeds that God is present in our midst working out our salvation, which is what it means to be reconciled (2 Cor. 5).

None of this is easy. This path is full of twists and turns, which is why we’ll be tempted to either take the easy way or simply give up. If we wish to participate in this work of God in the world, then we must keep focused on Jesus. That’s because he knows the way and is willing to reveal it to us – that is if we’re willing to discern the will and purpose of God.

The biblical picture of judgment day might not be as dramatic as the typical Hollywood production, but it’s a reminder that God is committed to making things right. So, when judgment day does come, if we’re paying attention, then we can join with all of the creation in praising God, shouting out:

Say among the nations, ‘The Lord is king!

The world is firmly established; it shall never be moved.

He will judge the peoples with equity.’

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice;

let the sea roar, and all that fills it;

let the field exult, and everything in it.

Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy

before the Lord; for he is coming,

for he is coming to judge the earth.

He will judge the world with righteousness,

and the peoples with his truth. (Psalm 96:1-13)

 
Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Troy, Michigan
5th Sunday of Lent
April 3, 2011

Open My Eyes that I May See -- a Lectionary Reflection

1 Samuel 16:1-13



Ephesians 5:8-14


John 9:1-41

Open My Eyes that I May See

In the words of that old gospel song we pray that God would open our eyes that we might see God’s will so that we might be set free.

Open my eyes, that I may see glimpses of truth thou hast for me;

place in my hands the wonderful key that shall unclasp and set me free.

Silently now, I wait for thee, ready, my God, thy will to see,

Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine! (Clara H. Scott, 1895)

This is our prayer; that God would give us discernment so that as we make our way through life; that we’ll know what is good and right, decent and holy. It is a prayer that invites us to look inwardly to see where there is light and where there is darkness, for what goes on inside us influences the way we act and react in the world. But, we also seek God’s wisdom so that we might see the world as God sees it, seeing both the light and the darkness that is present in the world.

As we move through Lent, drawing closer to the events that transform the story of Jesus – first the cross and then the resurrection – darkness and light, death and life – our own vision of ourselves and of the world is being stretched. So the question is – are my eyes open to see what God sees.

In the three texts for the day, something of vision and perception is present. There is a word here about discerning the call of God and a word about blindness to the things of God, and in the midst of both there is a reminder that darkness and light are present in our midst.

As we ponder the story of David’s call to be leadership in Israel, his anointing by the prophet Samuel, we are reminded that God looks at things differently than do we. God sees the heart, where too often we simply focus on the surface. We see the good looks and the charisma, but fail to see the darkness that may underlie that charisma. According to 1 Samuel, God had rejected Saul as king. Thus, the spirit of leadership in the community had been removed. Saul was now on his own, without the benefit of God’s guidance. With that removal of the Spirit, God leads Samuel on a quest to find a new king, and so Samuel is sent to the house of Jesse of Bethlehem. When Samuel arrives, the leadership of the town is concerned – Samuel represents the government, or so they believe, and so they want to make sure that he comes in peace. Having assured them that his purpose is peaceful, Samuel invites Jesse to come and share in a sacrifice to God, which seems to be a ruse to confuse Saul, who like Herod centuries later, is concerned about pretenders to the throne.

When Samuel gathers the sons of Jesse, he’s rather impressed with the oldest. He’s strong and tall and good looking. Just what you’d want in a king, but God doesn’t buy it. No, as Samuel prays that God will open his eyes, God gives him a word of advice: “Do not look at his appearance or the height of his stature, because I have rejected him.” No, while mortals look at outward appearance, God looks at the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). Too often we are blinded by what we see on the surface, but God can see below the surface. And so, from Eliab on down to the youngest of the seven sons that Jesse brought before the prophet, no one meets with God’s approval. Finally, frustrated with his task, and seeming failure to see into the heart of the one God had chosen, Samuel enquires of Jesse – do you have any other sons? And Jesse says, just one more, the runt of the litter, the one we’ve sent out into the fields to tend the sheep. You wouldn’t call him, would you? That’s why I didn’t bother to bring him, but Samuel said – go get him, just in case, and when he saw David, he knew. What is interesting in the text is that the outward appearance is noted. He’s ruddy in complexion and handsome. It’s hard to get away from the surface, but while the author seems stuck, God makes the choice, and Samuel anoints David as king, and then the Spirit that had lifted from Saul, settles on David – from that time forward. Saul may still have the throne, but in the eyes of God and Samuel, whose eyes God had opened, David is now the king.

If God opens the eyes of Samuel, God can also open our eyes to the darkness and the light that inhabits our world and our own lives. In the Ephesian letter, we read that while once we were in darkness, now in the Lord we live in the light, so we should live as children of light. The fruit of living in the light, is found in all that is good and right and true. Although the Ephesian letter likely postdates Paul’s life, this sense of living lives that are reflective of the light and not the darkness, reflects in many ways the word given in the Galatian letter, where Paul speaks of the contrast between life in the flesh (not to be confused with the physical life, but an orientation toward pleasing our own urges and desires at the expense of others) and that of the Spirit. I needn’t mention the expressions of the flesh here, but it is worth noting that the life of the Spirit (Light) is expressed in such behaviors and attitudes (fruit) as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. Against these Paul says, there is no law. (Gal. 5:16-25). In this particular text, the call is to expose the deeds of darkness by exposing them to the light of God, because everything that becomes visible becomes light. Our prayer then is that we would be discerning, so that we would be able to see that which is good and right and true and live accordingly.

Finally we come to the story of the man born blind. As is true of many of John’s stories, this is a long one, and it has many points of entry, some of which are problematic. We can see in it the debates that are occurring late in the first century between the early Christians and the Jewish synagogues. The Pharisees are the nemesis of Jesus, and the people fear them because they fear being cast out of the synagogue if they name Jesus as the Messiah. As we read this text we need to be aware of this late first century struggle for the soul of Judaism. In the end Judaism and Christianity will part ways, and the result has not always been a happy one. If we can separate out that argument and not see this as pitting Jew against Christian, we can see in it a word opening blind eyes. The word here reflects some of what we see and hear in Ephesians – it is a word about light. In this case, Jesus declares himself to be the “light of the world.” If we want to have our own blindness healed, then we must allow Jesus to provide that healing. In this passage, he takes his spittle, mixes it with dirt, and applies that mud to this man’s eyes, and then telling him to wash his eyes in the Pool of Siloam.

It is interesting that in this story, after the healing, which people question, Jesus is no where to be found. It is only after the man is excommunicated that Jesus appears again and invites him to be his disciple. Again there is much involved here about exclusion from the synagogue, but maybe we can hear another word about our need to wrestle with the call of God. God can open our eyes, but we must still be willing to see as God sees, if we’re to benefit from this healing presence.

As we hear this word from these texts that speak of opened eyes, may we commit ourselves to seeing things as God sees them. If necessary, let us pray that God will bring healing to our own spiritual blindness to the darkness present first in our own lives, and then to the darkness that clouds the world in which we live and serve, knowing that our path must be lit by the one who is “the Light of the World.”

In God We Trust -- a Lenten Devotion

Matthew 5:38-48;

Micah 7:5-7

In God We Trust

I was invited to write a reflection on something that’s on my heart and that I want to share with the congregation. I thought about writing on how Jesus’ call to love our enemies should help define how we understand the nature of God. I’ve chosen a text to include in the day's reading that reflects that concern, but the issue that grabs my attention here is the matter of Trust

It is increasingly clear that there is a crisis of trust that is affecting families, churches, and communities large and small. Although there is a need for healthy skepticism and even suspicion – don’t believe everything you hear or read, especially if it comes by way of an email, but without a certain degree of trust society can’t sustain itself.

The prophet Micah, who declares so beautifully what God desires from us (Mic. 6:8), also writes: “Put no trust in a friend, have no confidence in a loved one; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your embrace; . . .” (Mic. 7:5). Yes, the prophet says – your enemies are in your household, which means the only one you can trust is God (7:6-7).

I recently had the opportunity to be with Martin Marty at the Academy of Parish Clergy, and Marty spoke to the issue that he deals with in his powerful new book Building Cultures of Trust. In reflecting on the biblical perspective concerning trust, he writes: “We cannot build cultures of trust on the basis of faith in the natural trustworthiness of humans” (p. 61). That said, Marty believes, and I agree, that the church, the people of God, are called to build cultures of trust in the midst of so much distrust.

We start with the recognition that in recent years scandal and disappointment have damaged our trust in the political, the corporate, and even the religious realms. There is much reason for being distrustful, but if we distrust our neighbor, then our tendency is to withdraw inwardly and cease to engage in relationships with others. We become fearful of the other, and can become self-centered and unconcerned about the needs of others. We take down the welcome sign and build barriers that we believe will protect us from the other. With that the concern for the common good begins to die.

As we take this Lenten journey together, I’m hopeful that we might hear the call to put our trust in God, and with this trust our own distrust can be transformed into a movement of reconciliation and healing. Micah says to us – trust in God. In Romans 4, Paul points us to Abraham and Sarah, who trusted God and God reckoned this trust as righteousness (Rom. 4:20-22). Their trust led to the creation of a family and a nation – that was called upon to be a blessing to all nations (Genesis 12:1-3).

With our trust placed in God, who calls on us to love our enemies and do good to those who persecute us, perhaps we can make a difference in the world. With God’s wisdom and guidance, we can join together in building this culture of trust. And trust will allow us to continue our journey into the future with hope and not fear as our companion, committed to what Marty calls “trustworthy systems” (pp. 183-184).

Reposted from the Central Woodward Christian Church 2011 Lenten Devotional -- edited by John McCauslin.

 

I'm Thirsty -- A Lectionary Meditation

Exodus 17:1-7



Romans 5:1-11


John 4:5-42

I’m Thirsty

Water is essential to life. The human body is somewhere between 55% and 78% water, and water covers about 70% of the earth’s surface. Although we can go a while without water, eventually we’ll die without water. Water and life – they go hand in hand.

Two of the texts for this Third Sunday of Lent focus on water. Moses has to deal with a people who complain vociferously because they don’t have water to drink, while Jesus finds himself tired and thirsty and sitting next to Jacob’s well. He doesn’t complain, but he does ask for water! As we think about water and thirst we might want to look ahead for a moment to Jesus’s cry from the cross – I Thirst (John 19:28). Paul’s not quite ready to get to the water (Baptism appears in Romans 6), but he deals with the issue of suffering and hope, ideas that are present in the other two texts. Each of these scriptures remind us that no matter how difficult the journey, God is present and faithful.

In the Exodus story, the people have again grown cantankerous. Although God provided food for the journey – not that they enjoyed the menu – now they’re thirsty. This leads to quarreling and complaining to Moses – why, they ask, have you led us out here into the wilderness so that we might die of thirst. You would have thought that they preferred slavery in Egypt, and perhaps they did. We often prefer the misery we know to the potential misery that might face us in the unknown. With all the harping and complaining, Moses grows frustrated with this people God had entrusted to his care. They were never satisfied, no matter what God did – whether it was the rescue from the clutches of Pharaoh’s army or the manna from heaven – they weren’t satisfied. Wanting water they begin to quarrel amongst themselves, and Moses cries to God – “What am I to do with this people? They’re ready to stone me.” As I read this, I’m reminded of political leaders, especially Presidents, who find that they can never satisfy the populace, no matter what they do. It’s never enough!

But God is gracious and hears Moses, telling him to gather the Elders and then go out ahead of the people. God tells Moses to meet at the Rock at Horeb, and there in front of the Elders, Moses does as God commanded. He strikes the rock with the staff he had used to strike the Nile, and from that rock sprang water to quench the thirst of the people. God had provided, but in a bit of frustration, Moses calls this place Masseh and Meribah, because the Israelites “quarreled and tested the Lord saying - “is the Lord among us.” I sense that the word we need to hear in this story concerns typical human behavior – even in the church – in spite of our complaining and insolence, God is faithful. So instead of complaining, let us give thanks to God.

Before we turn to story of Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well, we must heed Paul’s discourse in Romans 5. The chapter begins familiarly – “Since we are justified we have peace with God through the Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to the grace in which we stand.” In Christ we’re justified, saved, and reconciled. I’m afraid it’s easy to read this passage in a very transactional way. We’re sinners who face the wrath of God, and Jesus’ blood substitutes for our blood. For centuries theologians have interpreted the cross in a quid pro quo fashion – the life of Jesus for my life. But why does God need blood to be satisfied? What is it that I have done that requires the death of another, especially one who is innocent of all changes? I struggle with the idea of divine wrath. I don’t have space to delve into this question here in this place, but perhaps there is another way of reading this text. Maybe the issue is one of separation between Jew and Gentile – in the cross a way has been created that brings the two together. I don’t know, but what I do hear in this text is a promise that no matter what happens there is hope. Suffering, which we all experience, produces endurance, and endurance leads to character, and character builds hope, and as Paul says – this hope doesn’t disappoint. That is because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. That is the message we need to hear – not that we’re miserable sinners who need someone to suffer our due punishment so that God will accept us. No the word we should hear in this text is that God’s love will transform our lives in ways that lead to hope. That is a word of salvation.

Finally we come to the story Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s Well. According to John, Jesus is sitting by the well because he’s tired. He’s on his way to Jerusalem, where he will taste suffering The disciples have gone into town to get some food. It’s about noon when a woman comes to the well to draw water, and so Jesus asks her to draw him some water to drink, because he’s thirsty. This woman is caught off guard because Jesus is a Jew and she’s a Samaritan (and a woman) so why is he asking her for water? My guess is that he’s thirsty and she has the means to get him a cup of water, but that’s too simple an explanation. The point isn’t the physical thirst, but the spiritual thirst that lies within. The request for water leads to a theological discussion, but first Jesus has to overcome the woman’s literalist mind set, just as he had to do in John 3 with regard to Nicodemus. That’s just the way we are – we think literally first and only later are we able to move onto something more spiritual in nature.

Having asked the woman for a cup of water, Jesus in turn offers the woman living water. At first she can’t comprehend what he’s saying. How can Jesus offer her living water when he doesn’t have a bucket to draw water with. But, when Jesus says that once she drinks this living water she’ll never thirst again, she becomes intrigued. How does this happen? But, besides that, this well belonged to Jacob. How could any other water exceed it in value? Still, water that fulfilled thirst eternally, that was worth pursuing. Having such water would eliminate the need to come to the well. As she’s contemplating this reality, Jesus tells her to go and get her husband. Of course, she’s not married, but apparently he already knows this. In fact, although she’s been married five times, the man she’s with whom she now lives isn’t her husband. Not only is she a woman and a Samaritan, but it would appear that she’s also a sinner, but Jesus doesn’t make anything of that. He seems to understand that she has lived a life of suffering – probably at the hands of the men who have been in her life. Perhaps she has become ostracized, which is why she was at the well at the height of the noon day sun. I don’t know any of this for sure, but it does appear that Jesus has pricked her heart. His revelation of her life causes her to move from her focus on getting water to understanding whom Jesus is.

How do you know this about me? You must be a prophet of God, but then there’s this theological problem. We worship here on this mountain, and you worship in Jerusalem. We’re divided, separated from each other by our theologies of worship. We think God is present here in this place, you think God is some place else. And yet he has spoken truth to her and so she’s intrigued. But Jesus has a surprise for her – place doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s Sychar or Jerusalem, Wittenberg or Rome, the point is that God is Spirit and those who would worship God must worship in Spirit and truth. What a freeing thing this word must be, though still she’s not ready to receive it. How often do we resist a word of liberation and freedom? We stay locked within the box that we’ve built for ourselves. The box may have its use once, but now its time to move on, to grasp that God is bigger than the box. The woman who is now a theologian says to Jesus, well when the Messiah comes, then we’ll know what to do. Yes, when the prophet comes who we’re expecting, that person will make this all clear. And Jesus says – “I am he.” I’m the one you’ve been waiting for.

As Jesus makes this claim, the Disciples return to find him deep in conversation with this woman. They’re surprised at all of this. I’m not sure whether this is because the conversation partner is a woman or a Samaritan, but they’re not prepared. This interruption gives the woman an opportunity to return to the village, where she spreads the news about the one who revealed her life to her, and her testimony draws out the people to the well. While she’s doing her evangelistic effort, the Disciples talk to Jesus about the food they’ve procured, but Jesus says – “I have food you know nothing about.” Yes, once again it’s a question of literal versus spiritual. And the Disciples are confused – where did he get the food, but the food he has to offer is spiritual food. As they discuss what to eat, the Samaritans gather around Jesus and invite him to stay a few days and teach them. Afterwards they say to the woman: We no longer have to rely on your testimony, we’ve heard enough to know that he is the savior of the world.

Our thirst is physical, even as our hunger is physical. We are physical beings and we need food and water – whether we’re in the desert of Sinai or at Jacob’s Well. But we’re more than physical beings who need food and water. We’re spiritual beings, who need spiritual food and spiritual drink. Each week, at least in my tradition, we gather at the table of the Lord and take bread and cup. It’s not enough to stave off our physical hunger and thirst, but it is a reminder that our hope is found in the one whom we worship in spirit and in truth, the one who is faithful and who provides what we need, so that we might grow into people of hope.

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!



God's Chosen Fast -- A Homily for Ash Wednesday

Isaiah 58:1-12

Tonight we begin our Lenten journey toward Good Friday and Easter. This is a season of preparation and reflection. It’s a time to look inward and discern areas of life that we’ve not given over to God. Traditionally it’s also a season of fasting, where we seek to emulate Jesus who went into the wilderness, fasted for forty days and forty nights, and faced temptation (Matt. 4:1-10). The point of all of this reflection and fasting is that it’s designed to make us more aware of God’s presence and also more aware of the presence of our neighbors.

We begin the journey by remembering our own transgressions, for as the Psalmist reminds us, we are all sinners. As we remember these sins, we receive a mark upon our foreheads as a tangible reminder of our sinful state, and then we offer prayers of confession and receive a word of forgiveness.

Tonight I’ve chosen to focus on the word from Isaiah, which speaks to “God’s Chosen Fast.” In Matthew’s gospel we read Jesus’ words about fasting. He challenges those who make a spectacle of their fasts by presenting themselves in a rather disheveled manner so that their neighbors might know that they’re fasting (Mt. 6:16-18). But Isaiah takes a different approach. This post-exilic prophet challenges his people who have come to believe that their fasting will get God’s attention. They say: “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” (Isaiah 58:3). Isaiah says to them – in your behavior you dishonor this practice.

Although giving up chocolate or some other pleasure might be a good spiritual discipline to adopt during this season, Isaiah calls us to a higher level of understanding. Fasting may discipline our bodies so we can give greater attention to God’s presence, but as Isaiah makes so very clear, God is less interested in our observance of certain fast days than in the way we live our daily lives as God’s people.

Isaiah says to the people, you come out and fast and yet at the same time you oppress your workers and quarrel with each other. If your fasting is accompanied by such actions, then this won’t get your voice heard by God. Instead, God has chosen another fast for us, calling on us to

“Loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke[.] Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” (Is. 58:6-7)

As Amy Oden puts it: “The fast that God seeks calls for vigilance, for justice, and generosity, day in and day out.” (WorkingPreacher.Org, 2/6/11).

Isaiah’s call for justice is echoed by a word given by the 4th century bishop and theologian Basil of Caesarea who writes:

As we take this Lenten Journey, let us consider the kind of fast that God is calling us to pursue. Isaiah writes that if we engage in this fast, we will be blessed. What is most important, we will be blessed in the knowledge that we are partners with God as moral agents in this world, working with God and empowered by God, we might pursue righteousness and justice in the world.

This is a time for us to look inwardly, to assess our path, to see if our vision is clouded by sin. It is a time to purge ourselves of those things that keep us from being all that God would have us be. The fast that God has chosen for us is one that leads to a new life and partnership with the God we know in Jesus Christ, who makes known to us God’s steadfast love.

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, MI

Ash Wednesday

March 9, 2011

Are you not a robber, you who consider your own that which has been given you solely to distribute to others? This bread which you have set aside is the bread of the hungry; this garment you have locked away is the clothing of the naked; those shoes which you let rot are the shoes of him who is barefoot; those riches you have hoarded are the riches of the poor.  (Quoted in Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Enuma Okoro, Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals, Zondervan, 2010, p. 178).