Sunday, March 29, 2015

Marching Toward Easter: A Reflection on Mark 11:1-11


                Aren’t parades fun? The marching bands, the floats, the horses, the candy getting tossed to the kids by the cheerleaders. I haven’t seen them for awhile, but when I was a kid I remember those crazy Shriners that drove these little red cars around in a figure eight pattern. They would drive to within two feet of us kids sitting along side the road and veer off at the last second, scaring the crap out of us every time! Watching, or even marching in, the Fourth of July parade is a tradition for many families. We watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, the unofficial start of the holiday season, with those giant, helium filled balloons and Santa and Mrs. Claus bringing up the rear. Then there is the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, with those gorgeous floats made out of all kinds of flowers and other plants. Yes, parades are a great time. If you think about it, parades are one of those few events where the whole community comes out to participate. A parade is truly a community event.

                But why do we have parades? Where did the first parade come from? There is a painting that was discovered in a cave somewhere in Spain that looks like some kind of parade. The archeologists believe the painting to be 10,000 years old! Parades have existed for thousands of years to mark special events or to celebrate special people in a public way. It seems that we humans have an innate need to mark special events or celebrate special people in the form of parades. I guess that’s why we enjoy parades so much. It’s something that humans have always done.

                Today, we are marking a special event, celebrating a special person, which includes a parade. The purpose of this parade was to celebrate Jesus, the long awaited messiah. The parade route began at the Mount of Olives, in fulfillment of a prophecy found in Zechariah 14:4, “On that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east.” And Jesus enters the city riding on a donkey, which also fulfills a prophecy we find in Zechariah, 9:9, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

                Now while Jesus was riding into town on a donkey from the east, there was another parade going on at the same time, from the west. That parade was the Roman army, with Pontius Pilate riding a war horse. The participants in Jesus’ parade were waving palm branches and singing, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” In Pilate’s parade were the centurions carrying banners and gleaming shields crying out, “Hail, Caesar!” These two parades represent a clash of powers, the worldly power of Rome represented by Pilate riding his war horse, and the heavenly power of God represented by Jesus, humbly riding on a donkey.

                Let’s reflect on this for a minute. As I just said, the participants in Jesus’ parade were waving palm branches and crying out, “Hosanna!” Hosanna is Hebrew for “save us.” What were they asking to be saved from? Sin? Or is it something else? Let me remind you why Jesus was coming into Jerusalem in the first place. In fact, there were thousands of people descending on Jerusalem because of the festival of Passover. Passover marks the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. This is a religious event that remembers how God acted to save God’s people from slavery. It was a time to remember how Israel was set free, liberated from their oppressor. But guess what? Israel was under oppression again. This time, it was Rome. So Passover in Jesus’ day was a politically charged event. Perhaps there were rallies, and self-proclaimed messiahs would try to rally the people to rise up against their oppressor, or cry to God to save them from the oppression of Rome. That’s why Pilate and the Roman troops were marching in to Jerusalem. The troops were called in every year as a show of force and to squash even a hint of any kind of rebellion. So when the people following Jesus were waving their palm branches and crying out, “Hosanna, save us!” it was not sin that was on their minds. They were looking for, longing for, a messiah who would deliver them from Roman oppression so that they could be a free people again. Of course, we know that Jesus had come to deliver them from the oppression of the powers of this world. He had come to save. But it was not as the people expected. And as we recall, as it dawned on the people that Jesus wasn’t the messiah they thought he was, they turned on him and called for his crucifixion.

                So what about us? Why do we remember this parade that took place 2,000 years ago? When we sing “Hosanna” we know what we are being saved from. We are being saved from hell. But is there more to our salvation than escape from the clutches of hell?

                Scott Johnson tells a story about a time when he had to return to his childhood home for a funeral. He had not been back in years. At the funeral home, as Scott scanned the crowd that was gathered, he didn’t know anyone. He tried to make some small talk but he felt lost, even in his own home town. He felt like a stranger. He felt alone. But then, he looked up and saw entering the parlor a couple of his buddies from church. They had driven all the way down just to be there for Scott in his time of loss. Scott said that when he saw his two friends from church enter the room, he immediately felt relief. It hit him in his gut. He experienced the church being there for him. He said that in that moment he experienced being saved, saved from being alone. He had his brothers in Christ. Have you ever experienced such a moment, when you no longer felt alone or lost? Remember a time when you once were lost but then was found. Maybe you felt the presence of God in a powerful way. Or a couple of friends dropped by and you didn’t feel lonely any more. Part of what it means to be saved, is to be saved from being lost and alone. You have a family, the family of God, the Church.

                When we participate in Fourth of July parades, we are celebrating freedom, our liberation from foreign tyranny, the British monarch. We celebrate our liberty as a free nation, no longer under colonial control, something that happened only a couple hundred years ago. Freedom is a core value for us as Americans, to live as a free people under the rule of law and not of monarchs. This is a value that we affirm as we gather to watch or participate in Fourth of July parades.

                But this morning we recall another parade. In this parade, we affirm that in Christ we experience liberation. We are set free from the foreign tyranny of sin that always tries to bind us and separate us from God and from each other. Today, when we shout “Hosanna! Save us!” we hear Jesus respond with “I have saved you, I am saving you, I will continue to save you!”

                Today, as we begin Holy Week, it is right to start the week remembering a parade, a parade that celebrates how God in Christ saves us from hell, saves us from being alone, saves us from sin. But this parade we celebrate doesn’t end today. The march continues from Monday to Wednesday, as the tension between the authorities and Jesus grows to the breaking point, and on to Thursday, when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, shared a final meal with them and instituted Holy Communion, and then the betrayal, the show trial, and the crucifixion on Friday, when it appears that death has triumphed over life, and then the Great Sabbath of Saturday, when all is still…until early Sunday morning, when new life springs forth, and the Church cries out in victory, “He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!”

                Holy Week is our parade. Our parade route begins at the Mount of Olives, continues to Calvary, and on to the empty tomb in the garden. Let us remember what this parade is about. Let us recall that in Christ we are set free from the power of sin and death, that in Christ we are never alone but surrounded by our brothers and sisters and the unending love of God. As we again cry out “Hosanna” to Jesus, let us begin our march toward Easter.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Dying to Live: A Reflection on John 12:20-33


            When we look through the Gospels as a whole, we are left with the impression that Jesus’ first concern was with his fellow Jews. Of course, Jesus cared about Gentiles too. But his focus was on God’s chosen people. For example, when Jesus sent his disciples out two by two, he told them to go to the Jews in each village. Then there is that disturbing account of when the Syrian woman came to Jesus asking for him to heal her daughter. And Jesus says it is not right to throw the children’s bread to the little dogs. Then she came back with, “Yes, lord, but even the dogs get the crumbs that fall from the children’s table.” After saying that, Jesus grants the woman’s request. There are a few things that could be said about that story but the impression here and in other accounts is that Jesus came first to minister to the Jews. All of this helps us understand why Philip and Andrew act the way they do when a couple of Greeks approach them with a request to speak to Jesus.

            For whatever reason, these Greeks go up to Philip instead of Jesus directly. Maybe they were being respectful. Or they weren’t sure if Jesus would see them or not. At any rate, they walk up to Philip and ask to speak with Jesus. Philip doesn’t say, “Of course, right this way!” Rather, Philip says, “Wait here.” Then, I expect with some confusion on his face, he goes looking for Andrew and says, “Andrew, there are a couple Gentiles who want to speak with Jesus. What should we do?” Andrew said, “I don’t know. Maybe we should just go to Jesus and see how he wants to handle this.” So, they go to Jesus and point to the two Gentiles standing there, saying “they want to talk with you.” I imagine Jesus, looking at the Gentiles, had a knowing look. Jesus knew what was going on. He knew that his crucifixion was for all nations, and that after his resurrection all the peoples of the world would be drawn to him. It had already begun.

            This gets Jesus to start thinking about his upcoming passion, the suffering he will go through, the crucifixion, and this prompts Jesus to tell Philip, Andrew, and the rest, “If you love your life, you will lose it, but if you hate your life you will keep it for eternal life.” What in the world does that mean? Why would you even want to keep something you hate? And Jesus is encouraging us to hate our lives? Teenagers will cry out, “I hate my life!” People who are miserable will moan, “I hate my life.” Is this what Jesus has in mind, for us to be miserable?

            I don’t believe he did. No, this is one of those sayings of Jesus that we need to interpret and not take literally. It’s just like when Jesus said that if our right hand causes us to sin, we are to cut it off because it is better to enter eternal life maimed than it is to remain whole and tossed into the lake of fire. Jesus didn’t mean for us to cut our hands off. So are we supposed to hate our lives instead of love them? I believe Jesus loved life. He is the Lord of life. I can’t imagine Jesus hated his life when he was walking around doing his earthly ministry. But he did know that he would have to lay down his life, only to take it up again at the resurrection. He knew his life was eternal, even though for a few days he would suffer death. So Jesus loved his life, but not so much that he was unwilling to give up life for a few days if that’s what it took to defeat the power of death. So in this saying of Jesus, he is telling the disciples that he is going to die but then come back to life. And perhaps he is telling them that they will also have to make a choice, to choose to lay down their lives, only to take it up again. Perhaps Jesus is saying that there is more to life than the few years we have on earth. If we lay side by side our life on earth and the promised life in the world to come, the choice would be clear about which of the two we would cherish. It’s not that life on earth is so bad, but everlasting life in Paradise? There’s no comparison.

            Yet, we don’t think about that. We don’t think much about losing our lives to death. It can be disturbing, even shocking, to hear words such as this:

            Come, brothers and sisters, before the end, and let us look upon our clay, upon the infirmity and meanness of our nature. Let us see that we are dust, food for worms, and corruption; that our bones grow dry, and have no breath of life within them. Let us gaze on the tombs. Where is the glory? Where is the outward beauty? Where is the eloquent tongue? All is dust and shadow. Why do we deceive ourselves and boast? Why do we trouble ourselves in vain? For we are earth, and soon to the earth we will return. Why do we not reflect that we are formed from clay, and cast out as rottenness and corruption? Yet though we are clay, why do we cling so closely to earth? For if we are Christ’s kin, should we not run to him, leaving all this mortal and fleeting life, and seeking life incorruptible, which is Christ himself, the illumination of our souls?

            This is the issue that Christ lays before us. What matters to you more, your life on earth or everlasting life with God? If what drives us is to do whatever we want, get as much as we can and keep what we’ve got, then we will learn a painful lesson. The older we get, the more we discover that we can’t always do what we want. Our bodies won’t let us. And we discover that all that stuff we thought was so important, that made us feel important, in the end is meaningless. But if we choose to make our aim in life to pursue Christ, to keep Christ front and center instead of our self-interest, will we not discover that we have all we need? So that even when our bodies break down and all the things we worked for slip out of our grasp, that we still have Jesus? That there’s more to life than the time we spend here on earth?

            Of course, there’s nothing easy about this. The choice may seem obvious but that doesn’t make it simple. We live in a culture where we are barraged with a constant message that it’s all about me, my life, what I want, and that I’m free to live my life however I want. And that’s true. We are free to choose what kind of life we will live. But we don’t want to live a life that includes pain, suffering, and sacrifice. Jesus knows this to be true. While he reflected on the suffering he was about to endure, he says, “Now my soul is troubled.” It’s understandable that his soul would be troubled as he considers that soon he will be suffering and dying for people that don’t really know him, and some who outright despise him. To be truly humble, to resist the need to protect yourself from getting hurt, of sacrificing on behalf of others who don’t appreciate or understand what you are doing, that’s a tough choice to make.

            Now when Jesus said his soul was troubled, this didn’t mean he was having second thoughts. His will and God’s will were in perfect alignment. It’s just that Jesus didn’t get a big grin on his face or jump up and down as he thought about the suffering that lay in front of him. Of course he was troubled. But he would not allow his feelings to prevent him from doing the will of the One who sent him. Jesus is setting for us a challenging example, to not allow our feelings, even our troubled souls, to prevent us from doing what God’s will is for us, to do what is loving.

            And this is true freedom, to love others whether you feel like it or not. To love others as a sheer act of will, even at potential personal risk or sacrifice. That is a high calling.

            However, there is a problem here. I have known of people that gave so much of themselves that they had nothing left to give. They were emotionally burned out. Some of them became physically ill because they did not take care of themselves. It’s like when you get on the airplane and they tell you that in case of loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop down. If you are seated next to a child put your mask on first, then help the child. Living for God and putting the needs of others ahead of your own does not mean that you can ignore your real needs. Humility is about more than putting others first. Humility also is the acknowledgement that you can’t do it all. Each of us are also needy. We have to allow ourselves to be helped and cared for. This is what makes community life possible. We need each other. Humility calls for giving and receiving, leading and following, helping and being helped, of sacrificing and benefiting from the sacrifices of others.

            So, what does it mean to hate your life? Maybe think of it this way. Keith Green is one of my favorite singer/songwriters. He wrote a song called, “Your Love Broke Through.” It is a song about his life. He thought he knew what he wanted out of life and was relentless in pursuing his goals. But he was finding no real purpose in life. He was lost in a fantasy of his own making. But then God’s love broke through into his life. He came to love Jesus and desired to live for God. No longer chasing after his own dreams and fantasies, he obediently sought to follow the ways of Jesus. So he sings about how his life now has meaning, purpose, and direction. He hated his old life and fell in love with his new life in Christ. I believe that’s the attitude that Jesus is trying to teach us.

            The invitation is to see all aspects of our lives, our relationships, our responsibilities, the daily trials and tribulations of living, to place all within the context of being servants of Christ. Be a spouse as if you were serving Christ. Be a parent as if you were serving Christ. Be a neighbor as if you were serving Christ. Whatever you do for a living, do it as if you were serving Christ. Live every moment of your life as a servant of Christ. It is in this that we are able to stop living a self-focused life and instead live a Christ-focused life. Then when the suffering and pain comes, we can realize that it is the price of love, not the consequence of being self-centered and vain. And when we cross over to the other side of the river, we will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master.”

 The song by Keith Green I mentioned can be listened to here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObrFm5EN2II

Monday, March 16, 2015

Look Upon the Cross and Be Healed: A Reflection on John 3:14-21


            Have any of you been snake bitten before? How about a spider bite? Bee sting or wasp sting? Those hurt don’t they. The sting is painful enough, but as the venom starts working its way through your body, the pain gets worse and worse. For some, the body reacts to those stings and bites so badly that if they don’t get medical treatment quickly they may die. The sting is bad enough. But that poisonous venom, that’s what really hurts.

            Sin is sort of like getting snake bit. I believe that’s what Jesus has in mind when we hear these words from John 3. Jesus compares his saving work to when Moses lifts up a bronze serpent in the desert. Sin and being snake bitten go hand in hand. You see, sin is more than just doing something bad. Sin is more like poisonous venom that lingers in you and will harm you, even kill you, if an antidote isn’t applied. Sin is like snake venom coursing through your veins.

            When Jesus talks about Moses lifting up that bronze serpent in the desert, he’s referring to this story we find in Numbers 21:4-9:

            From Mount Hor they set out by the way to the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; but the people became impatient on the way. The people spoke against God and against Moses, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” Then the Lord sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.

            We can see how Jesus takes this story from Israel’s past as a symbol for what happens when Jesus is lifted up on the cross. The bronze serpent, when gazed upon with faith, brought healing. Just so, Jesus, the one who took on himself all the sin of the world when lifted up on the cross, brings healing to those who look on him with faith. They receive healing from the poison of sin. Yes, Jesus was lifted up on the cross so that no one might perish, but have everlasting life.

            This is the good news of the gospel! We can be healed from the corrupting poison of sin by looking upon Jesus and believing in faith that he can heal us. There is healing for our sin-sick souls. All who look upon the crucified Jesus in faith will be healed.

            Yet, so many people refuse to do this. So many people refuse to acknowledge the depth of their sickness and their need for healing. They know their lives aren’t right but they don’t realize how messed up they really are. They think that if they just try harder, that somehow everything will work out all right. Most of you have heard of Alcoholics Anonymous. The program has twelve steps toward recovery. The first step in the program is to acknowledge that you need help, that you don’t have enough power to help yourself. Many people acknowledge that their lives are a mess. But they will not acknowledge that they need help. It is hard to admit that you are helpless, that you can’t do life by yourself. We don’t have all the answers. We don’t have enough strength. We can’t make it through life on our own. We need help. The first step toward healing, whether it be from addiction or from sin, is to admit that you need help.

            What today’s scripture teaches is that those who admit that they are powerless over the effects of sin, and are humble enough to stand in the glaring light of God’s truth, warts and all, trusting in the healing power of Jesus, that they will receive healing from the poison of sin that is ruining their lives. This is such a crucial step, to humbly stand before Jesus, completely vulnerable, aware of how sick you are, hoping that Jesus won’t reject you but will heal you. John Wesley spoke of the “almost Christian.” An “almost Christian” is one who believes that Jesus saves us from sin. But the “almost Christian” has not become humble enough to stand before Jesus, fully aware of how much he needs to be saved, and trusts that Jesus can heal him. An “almost Christian” believes Jesus can heal. A true Christian believes that Jesus is healing him.

            It is hard for us to admit how bad it is, how sick we really are. It is hard to let the light of God’s truth shine on us, in those dark places where we try to keep things hidden. We try to avoid being honest about how messed up we are by thinking to ourselves, “I’m not that bad a person.” We wouldn’t say we were as pious as Job but we are good people. But let’s look at Job for a minute. Job was so pious even God was bragging about him. But when the time of testing came, eventually, Job grew angry with God. The testing revealed in Job the sin of pride. Job could not understand why God was letting this happen to him. He didn’t deserve it. He demands of God to explain Himself. Then, God finally answers Job by blowing him away with a string of questions that reveals to Job how arrogant he was. The light of God’s truth shined brightly on Job. But instead of being defensive, Job recognized he had messed up. Job said to God, “I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. I had heard of you, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” In spite of how pious he was, so pious God himself was bragging on him, the glaring light of God’s truth made him realize that he was not well at all.

            Dorotheos, a great spiritual teacher from many centuries ago, taught from experience that the closer we draw to God, the more evident it becomes to us of how sinful we truly are. We all live with blinders on, even those of us who have given our lives to Jesus. We have heard and believed the gospel, but have we seen God? If we did, would we not realize just how corrupt we still are? Surely, like Job, we would despise ourselves and repent in dust and ashes if we stood before the glaring light of God’s truth. We would beg to look upon the cross of Christ and be healed from the poison of sin coursing through our veins.

            We have to let the light of God’s truth shine upon us. It will be painful. Like all of you, I believe in Jesus. I trust in Christ alone for my salvation. But when the searchlight of God’s truth gets flipped on, I join Adam and Eve and run for cover! Am I the only one? How hard it is to be completely honest before God and acknowledge how sin sick we are, even as believers. In Psalm 26:2, the psalmist sings, “Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and mind.” How many of us would want to endure that kind of test?

            For many of us, including me, we have to increase our trust in the power of Jesus to save us from our sin. We have to trust not in our own goodness, but rather trust in God’s mercy, who sent Jesus to be the one who can draw the poison of sin out of us. This is the good news for us: we can’t save ourselves, but God can save us. God has provided the remedy for the sin sickness that is killing us. We can look upon the cross and be healed, believing that if we look on the cross and trust in the healing power of the cross of Christ, that we will have everlasting life. The poison of sin is drawn out of us when we gaze upon the cross of Christ. That is what Jesus taught. And it is a mystery. We don’t know how it works. But it is what God has revealed to us. The cross of Christ is the means by which we are healed from sin. The more we can truly believe that with all our heart, the more we are able to let our lives stand before the bright spotlight of God’s truth and be able to say, “Do not look on my many sins, but have mercy on me, O God, in your loving compassion, and save me.”

            I know it can be scary. It’s scary to acknowledge that we are hopelessly messed up. It’s scary to confront the painful truth of ourselves. It is scary to acknowledge that our lives, which may last seventy, eighty years, even longer, are but a puff of wind, a flower that blooms during the day but at night dries up and withers away. It is scary to admit that all our hopes and dreams, our successes and disappointments, our goals and plans, are but a flash in a pan. The years of pain, rejection, and abuse we are inflicted with, the wearing away of our bodies, all leads to death. It’s scary to admit that we are going to die.

            Sarah Foulger offers a powerful perspective on this. She finds it interesting that God has Moses make a bronze serpent, that which the people feared most. The people didn’t want to see poisonous snakes. They were frightened of them. Those poisonous snakes were the source of so much death. But, if they could muster up enough courage to gaze upon what they feared, the poisonous snake, then they would be healed. If they could confront their fear, and realize that the power of God can overcome what they fear, then they will be healed.

            Foulger makes the connection for us. We fear rejection. Christ was rejected. We fear pain. Christ suffered. We fear being abused. Christ was abused. We fear death. Christ died. As we gaze upon Christ on the cross, we realize that our fears of abuse, pain, suffering, rejection, even death, can all be overcome because we can know that God does not condemn us. God does not condemn us, God loves us. God does not reject us, God forgives us and claims us as one of His children. We come to realize that God’s love for us is steadfast. Nothing can separate us from God’s love except our own choice. We discover that the poison of abuse, suffering, rejection, and death, has lost its sting in Christ who conquers. We need not be afraid of anything, because perfect love casts out fear. And to live without fear is to live a full and abundant life.

            This is the gospel. We can stand in the glaring spotlight of God’s truth, and allow our life, our thoughts, our deeds, be tried by God. And we can be assured that we will flunk that test. Yet, God loves us anyway because God knows of what we are made. God knows that we are but dust and ashes. We can be assured that God loves us, in spite of our many shortcomings. We can always look upon the cross of Christ and be healed.

            I invite you to pray with me:

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
                                                         From him comes my salvation.
He alone is my rock and my salvation.
My fortress; I shall never be shaken.
On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
My mighty rock, my refuge is in God.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.
Those of low estate are but a breath,
Those of high estate are a delusion;
In the balances they go up;
They are together lighter than a breath.
Put no confidence in extortion,
And set no vain hopes on robbery;
If riches increase, do not set your heart on them.
Once God has spoken;
Twice have I heard this:
That power belongs to God,
And steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.
For you repay all according to their work.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Purity in the Church: A Reflection on John 2:13-22


            On the surface, the story we read from John 2 about Jesus chasing merchants and moneychangers out of the Temple and, when questioned as to why he thought he could do this, makes a cloaked prediction of his death and resurrection, which his disciples did not catch until after the fact.

            The merchants and moneychangers were trying to provide a legitimate service. It was the time before the Passover and animal sacrifices had to be offered. For many people, bringing their own animal along to sacrifice was too much trouble. So it was convenient to have priest-approved animals available for purchase. And the moneychangers had their job to do. All kinds of currency circulated through the empire, all of them stamped with the head of the emperor. This money would not be appropriate on the temple grounds, because of the graven image. That broke the first and second of the Ten Commandments. So, the money had to be changed into temple currency that would not have the head of the emperor stamped on it, for a small fee of course. So, this was all legitimate business, meeting specific religious needs of the people.

            But this was holy ground, this temple. All of this activity could easily have been done at the market. The only reason it was going on at the temple was so that the priests could make sure they got their cut. For the priests, as well as for these merchants and moneychangers, Passover had become less about piety and more about profit. So Jesus had to send them out. He didn’t confiscate the money, or the animals, or set the birds free. The moneychangers were free to pick up the spilled money. The merchants could follow their animals to the market. Jesus told the merchants with the doves and pigeons to take them and go. Nothing wrong with the service they were providing. It’s just that it was taking place in an improper manner, and with the wrong spirit, an impure spirit.

            However, we can go deeper into this story.

            One way to go deeper is to remember who Jesus is. Remember, back at Christmas, we sang the song about Jesus being Emmanuel – God with us. Jesus is God. As Jesus says, “I and my Father are one.” And the Holy Spirit rests upon Jesus. So, just as the Temple is where the presence of God can be located for the Jews in Jesus’ day, so it is with Jesus. Where Jesus is, God is present. Jesus is the temple. He essentially says so himself when he tells his questioners, “Destroy this temple and I will raise it in three days.” Obviously he is not talking about the bricks and mortar temple. He is talking about his physical body. His body is the temple in which the presence of God can be found. The body of Jesus is a temple.

            And we can go deeper still. We, as Christians, are members of the body of Christ. We are the body of Christ. When two or three gather in his name, Jesus is present, which means God is in our midst. We, the church, the body of Christ, are a temple.

            Further, as Paul teaches, our individual bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. When we are baptized, the Holy Spirit descends upon us and rests upon us. Jesus stands at the door and knocks. If we open the door, then he enters in and dwells in us, individually. Each of us, physically, is a temple.

            Holding on to this truth, that we are temples of the Holy Spirit, that Christ dwells within us, let’s recall what Passover is all about. The time in which the story read from scripture takes place is a period of preparation before the Passover. Passover is when the Jews remember how God delivered them from slavery in Egypt. The angel of death went through the land to kill the first born of every family in Egypt. But when the angel came to the house of a Jewish family, and blood from a lamb was found smeared on the doorpost, the angel would pass over the house, and the family inside the house would be safe.

            Now in the days leading up to the Passover, no yeast was to be used in bread, just as God had instructed Israel, when it was time for them to leave Egypt, not to take time for bread to rise but to make their bread hurriedly. It became the practice among the Jews to do a little spring cleaning of their homes. Specifically, they were to get all the leaven out of their house. To sweep their hose clean of old leaven. It was an opportunity to purify their homes. To start a new batch of dough.

            As Jesus entered his Father’s house, he took the opportunity to do a little spring cleaning himself, not with a broom, but with a handful of small cords. He swept out the old leaven that was the moneymaking taking place inside his Father’s house. It was in the spirit of Passover that Jesus took this action of purifying his house.

            This also is our time of purification, as we prepare ourselves for the celebration of our Passover, our deliverance from slavery to sin and death, the great celebration of Easter. Now is our time to sweep out the old leaven and put our houses in order, to make something new out of our lives.

            Since we are trying to follow Christ’s example, we should also share in his same zeal for his Father’s house. Our temple is the church. And we should protect the church, purify it, make sure the church is in order. We should love, honor, and care for the church, which is the body of Christ. Jesus refers to his church as the bride of Christ. So we should care about the church. We are the church. We are the bride of Christ. We should look out for one another and make sure we are about the Father’s business, to make sure that this house is a house of prayer. It’s certainly not a moneymaking venture!

            Our first priority is to deal with our own individual impurity. What housecleaning do we need to take care of in this season of Lent, this season of preparation? This is what that prayer I shared last week from St. Ephraim of Syria is pointing us toward. Let me repeat the prayer: O Lord and Master of my life, give me not a spirit of sloth, vain curiosity, lust for power, or idle talk. Rather, give to me a spirit of soberness, humility, patience, and love. O Lord and King, grant me to see my own faults and not to condemn my brother and sister. For blessed are you to the ages of ages. Amen.

            This is what Lent is about. It is about focusing on the log in our own eye rather than the speck in our neighbor’s. It is about purifying ourselves from vice; to get rid of laziness, especially laziness regarding our relationship with God. We need to get rid of our tendency to meddle in other people’s business, of being a busybody or always striving to be “in the know” or get sucked in to the gossip that passes for news and entertainment. We need to get rid of chattiness, which opens ourselves up to spreading gossip and talking behind the backs of other. Like we find in James 3, “The tongue is itself set on fire by hell. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God.” Or like this other saint said, “You fast from meat, but you devour your brother!” Our tongues need to be tamed. We need to rid ourselves of all this, so that we become more pure: body, mind, and soul. We are made in the image and likeness of God. Our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. We need to purify our bodies.

            But, let us not forget the story Jesus told of the man who had a demon cast out of him. He says in Matthew 12:

            When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it wanders through waterless regions looking for a resting place, but it finds none. Then it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ When it comes, it finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then it goes and brings along seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse that the first.

            The man was free from the demon. But then he failed to fill that void with good works and scripture reading and prayer. There was a void in his life. And the demon came back with seven other demons. And they filled the void the man had failed to fill, leaving him much worse off than before. So, we have to rid ourselves of our vices, but we also have to fill ourselves with virtues. And that’s what the second half of this prayer is about. We need for God to give us a spirit of soberness, which means to take life seriously, and to take others seriously. We need for God to give us a spirit of humility, to not be prideful, demanding of our rights, or feeling entitled. We need for God to give us a spirit of patience, because we know that being a Christian is hard, and there are a lot of setbacks and we fail all the time. We need to be patient with ourselves. And we need from God a spirit of love, for God is love. This is why we are Christians in the first place; because we have been loved, and we are to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves. So we need a spirit of love.

            And that leads to the last line of the prayer: O Lord and King grant me to see my own faults and not to condemn my brother and sister. Of course, we see the faults of others. That’s easy. This prayer does not ask God to prevent us from seeing the faults of others. That’s not realistic. In fact, it is necessary for us to be mindful of other’s faults. We have to look out for one another and hold each other accountable. No, we are to ask for God to help us not to condemn others. We can’t condemn others because we have faults of our own. And so, as Paul writes, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” When it comes to purifying the church, we all need to focus on our own troubles. It’s just like when scouts go camping, and you have to police the grounds. You know what that means? It means you line up and then walk across the campground, and whatever trash you see in front of you, you are responsible to pick up. And if everyone is diligent to pick up the trash in front of them, one walk across the campground and all the trash is picked up.
            This is our task. We are preparing for Easter. It is time for us to look at our lives, what lies in front of us, and pick up our trash and dispose of it, and in the process leave behind a life that is clean and in good order. This is our challenge. And we all need a lot of trash bags, for we all have made a big mess of things. It will take more than one pass through the campground. In fact, the cleanup won’t end until we hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” So, let us keep working at it. God will help us all along the way.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

No Resurrection Without The Cross: A Reflection on Mark 8:31-38


Stanley Harakas, a pastor and ethicist, wrote, “Lent is the time when we struggle to accept an unpalatable truth: growth toward victorious living comes through trial and sacrifice. There is no resurrection without the cross.” To achieve anything in life that matters, it takes a lot of hard work and sacrifice. Graduating from college, raising a family, making it to fifty plus years of marriage, all of this takes a lot of trial and sacrifice along the way. An old woman looks in the mirror and sees all the wrinkles on her face. And she says to herself, “Goodness, look at all those wrinkles. And I earned every one of them.” I recently heard on the news that contrary to popular opinion, stress doesn’t make your hair turn grey. Some people may take issue with that. Just watch how much grey creeps into the hair of our presidents as they get into the back end of their time in office. Whether it’s being the president of the United States, a master craftsman, or just getting the last of your kids moved out of the house, Harakas is right. There is no victory without sacrifice. There is no resurrection without the cross.

                Jesus’ disciples though seemed to be riding the gravy train. They found themselves in a pretty nice spot, a front row view of Jesus’ ministry. They got to see him heal all those people. They got to hear all of his teaching. And they got to go with him from town to town, spend all those hours walking with him along the road talking about deep issues but also talking about the weather and cracking some jokes. They were insiders, up close and personal with the one they were beginning to think may be the messiah. And what did they do to get this privileged position? Be available I suppose. Or, at least be willing to drop everything, abandon their families and wander around with Jesus for a few years. Their spouses and employers may not have been too happy. But the disciples probably didn’t worry about that too much. They were on an adventure. And maybe something else. Maybe if Jesus is the messiah and he establishes the kingdom of God, maybe they will get to be a part of the royal court. What luck! To be so close to power without having to sacrifice much…those disciples were sitting pretty.

                But Jesus throws cold water on his disciples. As we heard in the scripture reading this morning, Jesus reminds them that victory does not come without sacrifice. No one achieves the great purposes of life without generating criticism, and maybe even a few enemies along the way. Suffering and rejection is part of life, even for the Messiah. Sacrifice? Nothing less than death.

                After offering this bitter pill, that Jesus would be rejected and lose his life in pursuit of God’s purpose, Peter had to pull him aside. Why did Peter do that? It’s hard to know why people do the things they do. Was Peter upset because Jesus just burst his bubble about waltzing into the kingdom? Was Peter genuinely concerned about Jesus or wanted to encourage him? Who knows. But what we do know is that Peter had a tendency to open his mouth before he thought things through. And often that revealed his ignorance. This is one of those times.

                How surprised Peter must have been, even had his feelings hurt, when Jesus responds to Peter by turning his back to him and yelling, “Get behind me, Satan!” Peter and Jesus traded rebukes and I’m guessing that Jesus’ rebuke packed more of a punch. Peter, once again, is called out for speaking about things without knowing the whole picture. As Jesus put it, “You are setting your mind not on divine things, but on human things.” Peter’s perspective was too narrow. Isn’t that often like us? We only think about our own situation, or own needs and wants, and forget there is a bigger picture.

                Just think about getting dinner at a restaurant. All you care about is getting good tasting food at a reasonable price. But think about all that happens behind the scenes to get that plate of food to your table. Of course, there is the server, who has bills to pay of her own, so she could use a nice tip. Then you have the cooks in the back preparing the food for other orders, not just your own. And then all that food had to be trucked in. That food did not originate in a factory, but came from the fields and from the stockyards. Think of all who had to process that food and package it before it was shipped, and those who raised that food and picked it. You get the idea. There is a complex web of relationships that all go into the process of getting to your table a good tasting meal at a reasonable price. But we don’t think about it. We just order it, eat it, pay for it, and go. The livelihoods of so many people are dependent on somebody buying and consuming that food.

                The complex web of relationships behind our lives is even greater. You know last week I talked about how each of us has to make our own way through the wilderness, making our own path because no one has lived our life before. This is true, but this does not mean that our lives are meant to be a self-focused pursuit. The path you make through life is just one strand of a complex tangle of paths. Our lives weave around the lives of others. And all these lives that are being lived, all these paths put together, I believe, fit some larger purpose designed by God. You know how one piece of string is pretty flimsy. But if you take several strings and weave them together you get a much stronger rope. It’s the same way with our lives. We are meant to be woven together rather than just doing life on our own. And this means that your life is not just about what you want. Sometimes you have to yield your own needs, wants, plans and goals in order to let others have their way. Just like when you are driving along on the highway where there is a lot of traffic, sometimes you have to let people merge in front of you or you have to wait until somebody lets you in. Someone has to yield. And that’s how life is. We don’t always get to just put the pedal down and keep pushing through our life with no thought of anyone else’s needs. Sometimes we have to yield. And so Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake and the sake of the gospel will save it.” Living your life in a God honoring way requires from time to time your need to yield, to submit to others, so that this rope of lives can be woven together.

                But let’s face it. We don’t always want to yield. Another way to say it is, we aren’t always willing to submit to others, to let others have their way or pursue their interests at our own expense. Now in some situations we may be willing to submit. We will do what mom and dad tell us to do as long as we are living in their house, or they hold the keys to the car. We’ll do what our professor tells us so that we can pass the class. We’ll listen to our boss so that we can keep our job and hopefully get a promotion. If we see some benefit for yielding to the demands of others, and painful consequences if we fail to do so, then we are willing to submit, even if the work is demanding, or we don’t completely agree with what we are being told to do, or sacrifices must be made. The payoff promises to make the pain and suffering worthwhile.

                But when it comes to relationships, with a spouse, your family, your friends, with God, submitting sometimes is more challenging. Hopefully your desire to keep these relationships healthy is sufficient to be willing to yield to the other’s needs, and to make necessary sacrifices from time to time. But if you are no longer invested in the relationship, what’s to stop you from breaking the relationship off? Think of it this way. Your boss could fire you, so you will submit. The law can throw you in jail, so you submit. The professor could fail you, so you submit. The one you are in relationship could withhold connection with you, but if you don’t believe you really need that person, or if you think they are holding you back from what you want to do, then, so what if they withhold their connection with you? You don’t think you need them anyway. You don’t think you need God anyway. Besides, God said He will never leave us or forsake us, so really, what have you got to lose? Right?

                Jesus is making it clear to his followers that if they want to continue in this relationship they are going to have to submit to God and deny their own self-interest, hopes and dreams, and individual pursuits of happiness. They will have to let go of the need to call all the shots and direct their lives as they see fit. Jesus is calling them to a life of submission. This is the heart of the matter. We all get to choose. Will I submit to my own agenda or will I submit to God’s agenda? Will I be my own guide in the journey through the wilderness or will I submit to God’s directions? Either path we choose will include a cross. Getting the most out of life will be hard no matter what. Sacrifice and misunderstandings can’t be avoided. What is really at issue is how you will go about making your journey.

                Now here’s a little bit of irony. To truly live, to get the most out of life, to achieve all you are meant to achieve, requires letting go of control over your life. Life at its fullest is found in submission to God’s rule. By losing self-focus and instead being God-focused, you end up being the best you that you can be. Your life becomes more abundant, more meaningful, in spite of all the sacrifice and hardship. When all the sacrifice, the trial, the criticism, the cross-bearing, when it is done for the sake of Christ, life becomes all it is intended to be.

                There is a traditional prayer many Christians recite during Lent that was written by a Syrian priest named Ephraim many centuries ago. “Lord and master of my life, give me not a spirit of sloth, vain curiosity, lust for power, or idle talk. But give to me Thy servant a spirit of soberness, humility, patience, and love. O Lord and King, grant me to see my faults and not to condemn my brother: for blessed art Thou to the ages of ages. Amen.” This simple prayer gets at the heart of the matter between the two extremes. Will I set my mind on human things or divine things? Will I suffer in the pursuit for that which passes away or will I suffer in the pursuit of that which is everlasting?

                Today, let us dedicate ourselves anew to submit to the way of Christ, to the rule of God. Let us focus not on the trivial matters of what other people think are important and worthy of pursuit and instead focus on the matters of God, which are the matters of the heart. Let us submit to the rule of God over our lives, not with a spirit of bitterness but with a calm assurance, even anticipation that life will have so much more meaning and purpose. With humble trust in the One who created us and loves us deeply, let us deny ourselves, pick up our crosses, and follow Jesus Christ our Lord and our God.

 

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Life in the Wilderness: A reflection on Mark 1:9-15


                Have you ever been out in the wilderness? You may have had a topographical map and a compass. But there were no trails? No signposts? My only experience like this was when I was in Boy Scouts. We were learning how to use a compass. We didn’t have a map so much as a set of directions that said, “Go NNE 50 paces. Go SW 100 paces.” If our paces were correct as well as our compass skills we would make it back to camp. If not, well, you were in the woods blaming each other for the predicament you found yourselves in.

                Other than that, perhaps the closest I’ve experienced of wilderness is being lost out in the country and not having a map to direct me. Yes, there once was a time when a phone was just for calling people. You didn’t carry one with you and it did not have things like maps that you could pull up or some computer voice that would tell you where to go.

                At first, it’s a little frustrating. Where is that turn? Did I miss it? And then you start to get a bit worried, especially if you look at your gas gage and you wished you had a little bit more in there. But eventually you surrender to the reality that you are lost. You are just going to have to keep going until you hit some road you know or find a town with a gas station. And when you finally find that familiar road you breathe a big sigh of relief. You know your wandering in the wilderness is over. Home is right around the bend.

                There is another kind of wilderness. In a way our lives are like wandering in a wilderness. We may have a rough map in our heads, a course through life that we have in mind: graduate from college, start a career, get married, buy a house, maybe have kids, earn enough for retirement, purchase a summer home in the mountains. Perhaps we have a compass, a moral guide that helps us make ethical decisions. But other than that, we set out on our life journey and it is a unique one. Nobody has ever lived your life before. Your journey through life truly is your own. You make your own path through the wilderness. Or is it a jungle?

                Jesus got sent out on his journey in the wilderness. In the Scriptures we read that after Jesus was baptized the Holy Spirit propelled him into the wilderness. That’s right, like a cannon ball. The word there in Greek is the same one we get the word “ballistic” from. There is a sense of urgency. That moment of affirmation from his Heavenly Father, “You are my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased,” is ended abruptly. Just like that, Jesus is shot into the wilderness to wander around for a long time.

                In that wilderness, we read that Jesus was with the wild beasts. What were those beasts? Hyenas? Lions? Whatever they were, wilderness plus wild beasts equals threat. That first night, as Jesus was trying to go to sleep, he hears the rustling of the grass, the passing of a shadow. What was that? Wild beasts in the wilderness at night can be a little frightening.

                If life is like being in a wilderness, what are the wild beasts that are with us? Perhaps it is the threat of illness. Maybe it is that secret sin, or your temper that is under the surface just waiting to pounce. Maybe it’s that negative talk or self-doubt that locks you up with indecisiveness, fear of failure, of making a fool of yourself, of not measuring up. Maybe it’s the wild beast of decay and death, that beast that stalks all of us. There are all kinds of wild beasts in the shadows of our lives that journey with us through the wilderness.

                But Jesus didn’t have only wild beasts for company. He also had angels waiting on him. If angels are anything, they are messengers. An angel is a messenger of God. I know often when we talk about angels, or call someone an angel, it is because of something they did. The nurse that was so good and kind the days following your surgery was an angel. I have a friend who had a bad car wreck but somehow escaped relatively unharmed and she swears she saw an angel that pushed the car that t-boned her further back so that it didn’t impact the front of the car. But in the Scriptures angels are messengers. So Jesus had messengers with him waiting on him. I wonder what messages they delivered? Perhaps they were messages of encouragement or comfort. When Jesus heard the rustling in the grass and became concerned about what might be creeping up on him, an angel was there to assure him that he was safe, that he would make it through this wilderness experience.

                Who are the angels in your life? Who are those messengers that have come along to share with you a word that was comforting, or that gave you courage in the face of a frightful situation? Perhaps it was a pastor or a friend. Maybe it was that one thing your grandmother used to always say. Maybe it’s an inspirational quote you have framed somewhere. I’ve got one near my desk at home. It is a white framed card with a large black circle. On the circle, written in white is “I am a child of God.” A colleague gave that to me when I left Cincinnati several years ago. Who are those messengers that have come along in your wilderness journey? What messages have they left for you?

                After John was arrested, Jesus went to Galilee to proclaim his message. The time had come. The big moment had arrived. A new day had dawned. The reign of God is at hand. Now is the time to repent, to change your way of thinking about things, and to trust in this good news that God’s reign has come. That’s the message that Jesus came to deliver. All the rulers of this world, political, economic, social, religious, and otherwise, are passing away. But God’s rule is steadfast and sure. So put your ultimate trust in God, for God is with us with the power to save. But save us from what? Sin? Death?

                There’s nothing like walking through a grave yard to remind you of what really matters in life. You will see stones marking the graves of all kinds of people. Maybe it is of an infant who died of small pox. Or it is a man who spent his working life toiling in a coal mine. A few spaces over you see the grave of the man who owned that mine. You see the grave of a scientist, a banker, a president of the United States, a brigadier general. You see the grave of a teacher, a preacher, a pastry chef. In their lives they all made their contribution. Some made greater contributions than others. Some had more money, power and influence. But in the cemetery, the voices are silent, wealth and prestige are irrelevant. All that is left is the marker with the person’s name, date of birth and of death, and maybe an epitaph. “Gone but not forgotten.” “In Loving Memory.” “Loving father and husband.” “Her heart was large enough for all her family.” But even the passing of time slowly wears away the engravings on those stones. Nothing of this world is permanent. Everything passes away, changed back into its elements and shaped into something else. All that we chase after is not lasting. As the preacher of Ecclesiastes put it, “Vanity, all is vanity.” But life in God is not vanity. The steadfast love of God endures forever. Far from being meaningless, life in God does have meaning. Our lives do matter. Our journey through the wilderness of life is not only known by God, but God is invested in how our journey turns out. Our journey in the wilderness with God becomes a guided adventure with a glorious destination. Life under the reign of God makes all the difference.

                Jesus’ time in the wilderness may have come to an end. But we are still in the wilderness. We are still in uncharted territory, making our own way through this wilderness, living lives no one else has lived. We are still making our own path. The good news is that the reign of God is in the wilderness. Here, in the wilderness, where we confront our wild beasts and receive help from the messages angels give us, God is with us. God can be trusted all along the journey through the wilderness of life. So we continue our journey, making our way with confidence that this journey has a destination. Eventually we will make it home, where Jesus and the others who have finished their journey through the wilderness will be waiting.

 

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Look and Listen: A Reflection on Mark 9:2-9


          The experience, I don’t know what else to call it, that we read about today in the gospel of Mark is called the transfiguration. It is an experience that is difficult to comprehend. Jesus and the three men in his inner circle, go up a high mountain, of which we don’t know the name. He is transfigured before them, which means his appearance morphed. That’s the Greek there, metamorphosis. Is this what Jesus actually looked like, that a sort of veil was removed for a second? Or maybe it was like when Moses came down from the mountain after getting the Ten Commandments, his face was glowing which was a distraction to the people, so he started wearing a veil until the glow went away. Does Jesus naturally glow and the disciples got to see what he really looks like? Was it a glimpse of what our resurrected bodies look like? And then Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, are having a conversation with Jesus. How did they know it was Moses and Elijah? Were they wearing name tags? Did Jesus address them by their names? Aren’t they dead? Well, maybe not Elijah because he was carried up to heaven in a fiery chariot so he never actually died. Then there’s a cloud, they were terrified, they hear a voice. Then it’s all over. Jesus looks like he did before it all started, and they go back down the mountain with Jesus telling them not to say anything about what they just experienced. I doubt if anyone would believe them, but can you imagine what Peter, James, and John were like for a few days after that? They would be sitting around the dinner table that evening looking at each other with that look of, “What just happened? Who is this Jesus?” It is just a crazy experience on the top of this mountain.
            It’s also interesting where this experience is placed in Mark’s telling of the gospel. The transfiguration experience is at the half way point. It’s also the second of three times when we hear Jesus identified as the Son of God. The first time is at the baptism, when God says to Jesus, “You are my Son.” Then there is this experience, when God says to the disciples, “This is my Son.” And the last time is when Jesus dies, and a Roman centurion says to no one in particular, “Surely this is a son of a god.” So there is a lot to take in and ponder about this amazing experience on the mountain top.
            One way to get a handle on what is happening is to see what happened six days earlier. Jesus and the disciples were together. They were on their way to the Roman town of Caesarea Philippi. And Jesus asked them who people said they thought he was. Some were saying he was John the Baptist, others Elijah, or one of the prophets. And then Jesus asked who the disciples think he is. Peter said, “You are the Messiah.” Then Jesus started talking about how the son of Man will undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, be killed, and then come back to life three days later. The disciples, as was often the case, were befuddled about what Jesus was saying. But Peter had something to say. So the one he just called their Messiah, he starts to rebuke. Not just a gentle, “Jesus, you sure about that?” but a real rebuke. Jesus, who is not meek or mild, yelled right back at Peter, calling him Satan. I bet it was getting pretty warm right about then. After that exchange, Jesus calls a crowd together, and then he tells everyone, “If you want to be one of my followers, you are going to have to deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me. It’s going to cost you, maybe even your life.” And then Jesus said, “Truly, I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”
            And so, six days later, some who were standing there got to see for themselves the kingdom of God with power. They got a glimpse of what is really going on. The Jesus they would later see getting beaten up and nailed to a cross, the one whose last words are actually a loud cry, whose body is then taken to a tomb, is actually full of power. It may not seem like it when he gets crucified, but there’s more to Jesus than what meets the eye. There’s more to his being the messiah than what meets the eye. The kingdom of God was with them, but it was hidden.
            But then there’s something else. As the transfiguration experience unfolds, Peter does what he does best, open his mouth and say the first thing that he can think of. He suggests building three shrines would be a good idea. Does he mean like the shrines others build dedicated to all the different gods and goddesses? I mean, that’s what everyone else does when they experience the divine somewhere. So, why not do that? He didn’t know what else to say, so he fell back to conventional wisdom. Everyone knows if you experience the divine, you build a shrine there so people can go back there and burn some incense, offer a sacrifice, say some prayers, whatever. Yeah, Peter didn’t really think that comment through.
            Then they are overcome with a heavy cloud. I wonder if it was like the white out I witnessed when working on this sermon yesterday. And then they hear this voice from heaven saying, “This is my Son, listen to Him!” Now that’s interesting. In spite of all the mind-blowing, even terrifying sights of this experience, they are not told to look at Jesus, or to see Jesus for who he really is, to make a big deal out of the light show they just experienced. No, they are to listen. That’s probably aimed more at Peter than anyone else. Stop talking, start listening. And Jesus follows it up as they come back down the mountain, telling them not to tell anybody what they just saw until after the son of Man rises from the dead. Don’t say anything, just listen to me.
            So this is very interesting. This experience that later was told after Jesus rose from the dead, may have been helpful in giving the apostles some credibility in what they were saying. The author of 2 Peter says as much, where we read in 1:16-18, “For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.” So, this experience gave Peter, James, and John authority to talk about Jesus because they got to see and hear things no one else got to hear and see. For those who thought those kinds of stories prove you are an authority, that works.
            But does this story mean anything for us? I don’t think any of us would buy it if someone came to you and said, “Believe everything I tell you because I had this amazing experience on the top of a mountain.” Our first question might be, “So did you use mushrooms, or, what did you do to have this hallucination?” We may need some other way to grant someone authority than them telling a story about something they experienced that no one else saw. We would be skeptical. So, this transfiguration experience perhaps is not useful for us to help us believe that Peter, James, and John have authority because they are the only ones who can attest it happened. So does this amazing story have anything else to offer for us?
            That’s a hard question to answer. Maybe one point we can take away is that the flash, the presentation, the glitz, is less important than what is said. It’s the substance of what Jesus teaches that matters more than the promises or visions of glory. Or maybe what we can get from this experience is that Jesus didn’t stay on the mountain. He put the veil back on and came back down the mountain to continue his mission. He had a job to do. We have jobs to do also. No shrines were built on that mountain top. The challenges, the suffering, the struggles of life had to be faced. By no means did Jesus or the disciples keep running back to the mountain when things got tough. They moved on, they pressed ahead, knowing that they would be heading into tough times. So that could be a lesson for us. Or maybe we can get from this that in good times and bad, during mountain top experiences, the depths of the valley, or the broad plain of daily life, Jesus is walking with us through all of it. Jesus brought the disciples up the mountain and he brought them down. Whatever we go through, Jesus is right there with us, which can be a comforting thought. It’s an affirmation that even if no one else knows what you’re going through, Jesus is with you, that you are never really alone.
            Easter is about two months away. It’s always a glorious time that we anticipate every year. These barren trees will be budding, our lawns will be green and relatively weed free, flowers and the smell of warming earth scenting the air. We’ll see people wearing their Easter best, children running around hunting Easter eggs, churches filled with lilies and hyacinths. But before we get to the sights and smells of Easter, we have to go through Lent, a time of introspection, of an increased emphasis on spiritual disciplines, a time of listening.
            My challenge for us is that as we walk through this season of Lent, as we confront our sin and our mortality, perhaps take on greater discipline and abstinence, that we proceed through these next seven weeks keeping the vision of the beauty of Easter and perhaps the vision of our own resurrection experience, to keep that vision in our minds, even as we live out our lives in the here and now, listening for what life might say to us, especially in our suffering and struggle, assured that Jesus is walking with us through it all, now and for eternity.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Love over knowledge: A reflection on 1 Corinthians 8


               Have you ever been around a smart aleck? I’m not talking about people who are a little cheeky and are just joking around, but people who know they know more than you and make sure you know it too? I’m thinking of people who carry their knowledge on their sleeve, and project a know-it-all attitude. I have been around people like that. I’ve sometimes felt intimidated around them, felt stupid around them, because of their arrogance, believing themselves to be the smartest person in the room. Do you know what kind of person I’m talking about?

                Well, Paul found himself having to deal with some smart alecks in Corinth. To understand the situation in Corinth, I need to fill you in on a few things. An issue that the Corinthians had brought to the attention of Paul was a matter concerning the eating of meat that had been part of an animal sacrifice to some god or goddess. Corinth, like every city throughout the Roman Empire, was filled with temples and shrines dedicated to various deities. You couldn’t hardly turn around without seeing a statue or image dedicated to a god or a goddess. All kinds of sacrifices were offered to these gods, including animal sacrifices. The meat left over would be sold in the meat market of every town. For Jews, this was no problem. They only ate meat sacrificed to God, and which had been appropriately butchered. They didn’t buy meat from the meat market. But for Gentiles, they were accustomed to buying meat from the meat market, and the odds were that the meat they bought came from an animal that had been a sacrificial offering, although one could never be sure. So one of the issues was whether it was o.k. for Christians to buy and consume meat they got at the meat market.

                But there was another issue not directly addressed in this portion of 1 Corinthians but is discussed later in chapter 10. It was the issue of eating meat in a temple, more precisely, in the social hall connected to the temple. You see, just like how churches have social halls that you can rent for banquets and formal dinners, there were temples in Corinth where people could rent space to have social events, parties, and the like. If you went into these social halls, it would be obvious which god or goddess that temple was dedicated to. You would be eating your steak in the shadows of a pagan statue. Was that o.k. for Christians?

                This was a source of contention in the church in Corinth. Paul needed to weigh in on this subject. Chapter 8 begins with the argument that some Christians were making, whom Paul refers to as the “strong” Christians. These are the ones who say, “All of us possess knowledge. We know that there’s only one true God, and food doesn’t bring us closer to God, it’s just meat. So, what’s the big deal?” These are the smart alecks that Paul had to deal with. There were a couple things going on here that Paul had to work with.

                First of all, what these strong Christians were actually doing was trying to get away with something. Like I said, Jews didn’t have to worry about where to hold formal dinners and banquets. They had the ghetto, their enclosed community where they could celebrate weddings and other special occasions. For Gentiles, it was the temple banquet halls. Well-to-do Gentiles needed to have those banquets in order to invite their friends and scratch each other’s backs in order to maintain social status, which was critical in the culture of the time. When these well-to-do Gentiles became Christians, they found themselves in a bit of a bind. If they didn’t go to parties or hold parties, they would slip down the social status rung. This didn’t just affect how people felt about them. This had real economic implications. It was a big deal. So these Christians needed to justify holding parties in the banquet halls of temples. They believed their justification was that they knew what was really true. They had the knowledge that there is only one God and these other gods don’t have any meaning. These temples were just shells, had no purpose other than being a nice place to gather for parties. The strong Christians were certainly willing to utilize the knowledge they had gained in order to justify eating meat sacrificed to idols and to eat that meat in temples. In doing so, they wouldn’t have to sacrifice their social standing.

                The other thing Paul had to deal with was that these strong Christians had an attitude toward fellow Christians who were squeamish about eating this meat in temples. Their attitude was that these Christians needed to wise up. They needed to get over this hang up and not be so uptight. They need to become more sophisticated about the faith, rather than allow their old superstitions to prevent them from living as Christians in society.

                As far as Paul was concerned, these strong Christians didn’t know what they thought they knew. They claimed that they possessed knowledge. That much is true. But something I have come to understand about the gaining of knowledge: the more educated one becomes, the more one realizes how little he or she actually knows about any given subject. There is always more to learn. A new discovery gives birth to ten more questions. Education ought to make a person a bit more humble, recognizing how much is yet to be known, rather than becoming too self-assured. But even more to the heart of the matter, these strong Christians seemed to lack knowing what love is. It appeared to Paul that they lacked knowing how to love God well and how to love others well. They didn’t know enough about what matters most of all.

                We, of course, don’t have to worry about offending someone for eating meat sacrificed to an idol in a temple. But the general principle still holds: love for God and others matters more than knowledge about God and others. We have to be on guard that we don’t allow our knowledge to confuse us or block us from loving God and others fully. We also have to be careful not to use our knowledge in ways to justify actions that otherwise may be unloving. We don’t want our sophisticated knowledge to be an excuse for failing to love.

                I wonder if sometimes we make things too complicated. For example, a few days ago I was listening to Bernie Sanders, a senator from Vermont, who identifies as an independent but is really a pretty liberal democrat. Anyway, he was talking about how to grow America’s economy, and how trickle-down economics over the past 30 years hasn’t worked. He said that to grow the economy really is simple: sell stuff. After all, the personal consumer makes up 70% of the economy. But if these consumers don’t have a lot of disposable income, they aren’t able to buy products and services. The answer is to give them more disposable income so that they can spend it. Then, the job creators will have to expand and hire more workers because of the increased demand. Sounds simple. But then you listen to the economists and the policy wonks and then it becomes confusing. All that economic data and policies seem to prevent what seems to be a pretty straightforward and simple thing: give people more money so they can spend it.

                So there’s that. Knowledge can sometimes make complicated what doesn’t need to be so complicated. Sometimes knowledge prevents us from actually doing what needs to be done. Sometimes knowledge is about knowing peripheral things but lacking knowledge of what matters most, which for Christians is to love God and love others.

                Then there is how Paul put it, “Knowledge puffs up, love builds up.” That term translated “puffed up” is an interesting one. The term is related to the image of a bellows, or of using a bellows to blow out air. It’s metaphorical. “Puffed up” may be too polite an expression. Paul may have been going for the image of someone being full of hot air, or being a gas bag. It reminds me of the old joke that Ph.D. stands for piled higher and deeper.

                Obviously there is nothing wrong with gaining knowledge. Paul himself was a scholar of the Torah. He studied at the feet of Gamaliel, one of the best known and highly regarded rabbis of the day. There is nothing wrong with loving to learn, to be curious, to explore, to be a life-long student. Paul is certainly not an anti-intellectual. It’s just that for Paul it matters less what you know and more that you are known. Did you catch that? Paul said, “Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge; but anyone who loves God is known by him.” It’s less what you know but who knows you. Relationships matter more than knowledge.

                This past week, a man who is deeply loved by many in Ohio, particularly among the clergy, passed away; Bill Croy, who suffered from ALS for many years. When the word got out, several of my friends on Facebook, who had the privilege of knowing him, posted incredibly moving eulogies. They wrote of how generous he was with his time, how caring. They wrote of how he was a mentor. They wrote of his deep spirituality and his unwavering integrity. They wrote of how he gave so much of his time to help and encourage, yes, to build up others, even when it took so much of his energy to do so. As I read these eulogies, I didn’t see anyone write about his knowledge. It was all about his love. Because that is what it’s all about.

                Sometimes, people get too smart for their own britches. Knowledge is power. But sometimes that power can go to your head. Ultimately, it’s about living a life of love. We love God by following God’s commandments, not trying to rationalize avoidance of them by means of sophisticated argumentation. We love others by building them up, which includes teaching, sharing what we have learned, but doing so in ways that build up, not cause someone to feel inadequate or stupid. Paul is encouraging us to take care, that we live our lives in ways that lift others up. Let’s all try to focus more of our energies on loving well. Love God, love others, love learning, love this amazing world that we are privileged to live in. Let love, not knowledge, be our north star as we make our way through life.