* I've posted 46 blogs in this series because I wrote one on the Sundays in Lent. The Sundays in Lent are not counted in the 40 days. JWN
“When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” (John 19:30)
The “it” here was not his life. Now, his life was finished, but that is not what Jesus says in these his final words. The “it” here was his work and mission. It—what he came to do was done. Complete. Over.
So, what was that work? There are so many things that we call it: Reconciliation, Redemption, Salvation. Justification. All big, theological words. All important. All full of meaning. Reconciliation—bringing together parties that had been separated. Redemption—lifting up that which was cast down, healing that which was broken, paying the price of a slave who could not pay for himself. Salvation—saving from evil, destruction, danger, death. Justification—making “just,” that is, making things “right” between God and us.
All of that, and more, Jesus accomplished in his death. Amazing that one death could do all that. Amazing that God would give us his Son. Amazing that God loves us that much. Maybe that is why we call it “Amazing Grace.”
Jesus could have walked away at any moment from his mission. He could have just had a regular life. He probably would have made a pretty good carpenter. He might have been a decent enough fisherman. He would have enjoyed being a teacher or even a rabbi. He had so many gifts that he could have shared. But his mission was all-in-all for him. And his mission needs to be all-in-all for us.
His mission is ours. It is not enough to receive all the benefits of his mercy and grace and love. In receiving them He calls us to live them and share them.
For Jesus his mission was finished. In finishing his mission he handed it on to us. As long as we live we are the extensions of his mission to the world. To be a Christian is to be a missionary. Missions are not necessarily in some foreign land. Mission starts here, with us, within us, and then it moves out.
At our end, won’t it be lovely when we can say, “It is finished.” Our part of the Jesus mission is over. And now let us trust in his mercy and love to bring us home to God.
I end these reflections on the cross. Tomorrow is Easter. Be wherever you might worship to celebrate his resurrection. Believe in it. Live it. Practice it. Share it.
I have been pondering. What would resurrection life look like? Maybe that is another series.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Jesus Thirsted - Day 45*
* There will be a total of 46 postings in this series since I posted blogs on Sundays during Lent. Sundays are Feast Days and not "counted" in the 40 days. JWN
"After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill scripture), ‘I am thirsty.’ A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.” (John 19: 28-29)
Jesus must have been thirsty. He had not had anything to drink or eat since the night before. He must have been looking for any kind of comfort that could be given to him, maybe even some sour wine. The Romans would keep the sour wine there as a mild sedative. Even they had some mercy. Not much, but some.
Yes, he must have been thirsty; but there is thirst and then there is thirst. He had immediate thirst at this moment for wine or water, but he also had a deeper thirst for God, for us, for God and us. All of that—his mission—is what he had the deeper thirst for. And now, his thirst for bringing us back to God, for forgiving us, for showing us God’s love, for reconciling us with God, had come to its most critical and crucial moment. In order to slack this thirst he had to drink deep of his own sacrifice and death. In order to slack his thirst he had to drink deep of all that separated us from God and he had to take the weight and pain and agony of all that on his back.
So, what are you thirsty for? There are so many things that we can try to slack our thirst, so many “drinks” that we think will satisfy, so many “wells” we try to drain dry. All too often these “drinks” don’t really slack our thirst. All too often they only make us more thirsty.
God made us to be thirsty for God. Jesus came to remind us of that fact. He came calling himself many things, including “Living Water.” He came to reveal that in drinking this water, drinking Him, we will never be thirsty again. When we drink of Him we drink joy and hope and forgiveness and grace and love and purpose. When we drink in of Him we are drinking the Living Water that fills us up, that makes us whole, that makes us streams of life to and for others.
Jesus said, “I thirst.” He thirsted for you, for me, for us. He thirsted to share love. Just like He thirsted for us, maybe we need to consider our thirst for Him. Drink deep. His water is good.
"After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill scripture), ‘I am thirsty.’ A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.” (John 19: 28-29)
Jesus must have been thirsty. He had not had anything to drink or eat since the night before. He must have been looking for any kind of comfort that could be given to him, maybe even some sour wine. The Romans would keep the sour wine there as a mild sedative. Even they had some mercy. Not much, but some.
Yes, he must have been thirsty; but there is thirst and then there is thirst. He had immediate thirst at this moment for wine or water, but he also had a deeper thirst for God, for us, for God and us. All of that—his mission—is what he had the deeper thirst for. And now, his thirst for bringing us back to God, for forgiving us, for showing us God’s love, for reconciling us with God, had come to its most critical and crucial moment. In order to slack this thirst he had to drink deep of his own sacrifice and death. In order to slack his thirst he had to drink deep of all that separated us from God and he had to take the weight and pain and agony of all that on his back.
So, what are you thirsty for? There are so many things that we can try to slack our thirst, so many “drinks” that we think will satisfy, so many “wells” we try to drain dry. All too often these “drinks” don’t really slack our thirst. All too often they only make us more thirsty.
God made us to be thirsty for God. Jesus came to remind us of that fact. He came calling himself many things, including “Living Water.” He came to reveal that in drinking this water, drinking Him, we will never be thirsty again. When we drink of Him we drink joy and hope and forgiveness and grace and love and purpose. When we drink in of Him we are drinking the Living Water that fills us up, that makes us whole, that makes us streams of life to and for others.
Jesus said, “I thirst.” He thirsted for you, for me, for us. He thirsted to share love. Just like He thirsted for us, maybe we need to consider our thirst for Him. Drink deep. His water is good.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Jesus Makes New Family - Day 44*
* There will be a total of 46 blogs since I've posted blogs on Sundays. Sundays are not included in the 40 days of Lent. JWN
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.” (John 19: 26-27)
Here Jesus is at the point of death. He has been hanging on the cross for several hours. He has been beaten and a spear has pierced his side and he is running out of oxygen. Every time he pulls his body up for another breath he tears into the flesh of his feet and hands. It is an excruciating way to die.
And yet, even with all of this pain, even with his own doubts and struggles, he sees the pain of his mother and the pain of one of his friends. He turns away from his pain and sees theirs.
I find that simply remarkable. But then I shouldn’t. He came to see our pain, our lostness, our brokenness, our frail and flawed humanity. He came to see all of that and to heal all of that. He came to connect us to God, to each other, and to our best and truest selves.
Which is what he does here at almost his last moment alive. He does an adoption process. Mother, here is your new son. My dear friend, here is your new mother. Don’t leave this place alone. Go with each other. Be never alone. Love each other.
What he said from the cross to Mary and to John is what he says to us. Go make a new family, more family. Go share love. Be never alone. You all need each other, so be together. Share your needs. Don’t burrow up all by yourself. No one is meant to live that way.
Sometimes I think of the church as the Mary and John Adoption Agency. Almost his last desire was that Jesus wanted to make a new family. His desire for us has never stopped. Being here means making a new family. That was his work. That is our work. This work can be hard work. And, this work is among one of the great joys we will ever have in this life—making more family with and in and through Jesus.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.” (John 19: 26-27)
Here Jesus is at the point of death. He has been hanging on the cross for several hours. He has been beaten and a spear has pierced his side and he is running out of oxygen. Every time he pulls his body up for another breath he tears into the flesh of his feet and hands. It is an excruciating way to die.
And yet, even with all of this pain, even with his own doubts and struggles, he sees the pain of his mother and the pain of one of his friends. He turns away from his pain and sees theirs.
I find that simply remarkable. But then I shouldn’t. He came to see our pain, our lostness, our brokenness, our frail and flawed humanity. He came to see all of that and to heal all of that. He came to connect us to God, to each other, and to our best and truest selves.
Which is what he does here at almost his last moment alive. He does an adoption process. Mother, here is your new son. My dear friend, here is your new mother. Don’t leave this place alone. Go with each other. Be never alone. Love each other.
What he said from the cross to Mary and to John is what he says to us. Go make a new family, more family. Go share love. Be never alone. You all need each other, so be together. Share your needs. Don’t burrow up all by yourself. No one is meant to live that way.
Sometimes I think of the church as the Mary and John Adoption Agency. Almost his last desire was that Jesus wanted to make a new family. His desire for us has never stopped. Being here means making a new family. That was his work. That is our work. This work can be hard work. And, this work is among one of the great joys we will ever have in this life—making more family with and in and through Jesus.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Jesus Doubted - Day 43*
* I've posted blogs on the Sundays in Lent, so there will be a total of 46 blogs in this series. JWN
“And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabach thani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Matthew 27: 46)
I was a senior in college, taking a course in religion (my first one) that was titled, “A seminar on the existence of evil.” One of the constant questions we wrestled with was: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
One day as we were wrestling with the above question, a woman in the class said, “I have always received great solace that Jesus doubted God’s presence and plan in his life.” I said, “No way that happened.” (I was, frankly, speaking out of turn and out of my expertise or background because I had not read the bible at all.) She said, “He did.” I said, “When?” And she got a bible out of her backpack and read that line from Matthew. I was not embarrassed that she had trumped me. I was not embarrassed because I was so astounded that Jesus had said these words.
That day I went to the bookstore and purchased a bible. I wanted to read the words for myself. I wanted to see what else Jesus had to say.
The fact that Jesus doubted, that he struggled, that he questioned, helped me to believe in Jesus and trust Jesus and get curious about Jesus. The fact that he was that human, that vulnerable, made him so much more accessible and real to me.
At that time in my life I had thought that doubts undermine faith. Not so I found out from Jesus. Doubts and questions and struggles are not the opposite of faith, they are just part of faith and they are just part of being a human being. Sometimes the world doesn’t make much sense. Sometimes our own lives don’t make much sense. Sometimes it is hard to discern where God is or how God acts or why God sometimes doesn’t seem to act. Sometimes we do feel forsaken, all alone, and we question, we doubt whether our faith matters or whether God is there at all. Sometimes we do experience what Jesus felt and questioned and feared on the cross at three o’clock on the afternoon of Good Friday.
During such times let us remember that Jesus, too, questioned God. During such times of doubt and struggle let us remember that Jesus understands where we are, that he doesn’t judge us, and that he is there with us in all of our struggles and doubts. Always.
I am sorry that Jesus went through such pain. And, I am thankful that he did. Thankful because he can now be with us in all that we go through, even our doubts.
“And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabach thani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Matthew 27: 46)
I was a senior in college, taking a course in religion (my first one) that was titled, “A seminar on the existence of evil.” One of the constant questions we wrestled with was: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
One day as we were wrestling with the above question, a woman in the class said, “I have always received great solace that Jesus doubted God’s presence and plan in his life.” I said, “No way that happened.” (I was, frankly, speaking out of turn and out of my expertise or background because I had not read the bible at all.) She said, “He did.” I said, “When?” And she got a bible out of her backpack and read that line from Matthew. I was not embarrassed that she had trumped me. I was not embarrassed because I was so astounded that Jesus had said these words.
That day I went to the bookstore and purchased a bible. I wanted to read the words for myself. I wanted to see what else Jesus had to say.
The fact that Jesus doubted, that he struggled, that he questioned, helped me to believe in Jesus and trust Jesus and get curious about Jesus. The fact that he was that human, that vulnerable, made him so much more accessible and real to me.
At that time in my life I had thought that doubts undermine faith. Not so I found out from Jesus. Doubts and questions and struggles are not the opposite of faith, they are just part of faith and they are just part of being a human being. Sometimes the world doesn’t make much sense. Sometimes our own lives don’t make much sense. Sometimes it is hard to discern where God is or how God acts or why God sometimes doesn’t seem to act. Sometimes we do feel forsaken, all alone, and we question, we doubt whether our faith matters or whether God is there at all. Sometimes we do experience what Jesus felt and questioned and feared on the cross at three o’clock on the afternoon of Good Friday.
During such times let us remember that Jesus, too, questioned God. During such times of doubt and struggle let us remember that Jesus understands where we are, that he doesn’t judge us, and that he is there with us in all of our struggles and doubts. Always.
I am sorry that Jesus went through such pain. And, I am thankful that he did. Thankful because he can now be with us in all that we go through, even our doubts.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Jesus Didn't Flinch - Day 42*
* I've posted blogs on the Sundays in Lent. Since the Sundays in Lent are not counted as part of the 40 days, I will have a total of 46 postings. JWN
Jesus has been picked up by the Roman guards. His dearest friends and disciples have vanished. He has been up all night, being shuttled from one tribunal to the next. He has suffered insults. He has endured endless questioning. He has heard Peter deny him. He is facing his death.
It would seem like everything was stacked against him. It would seem like he would have had almost nothing left, that he would have agreed to almost any confession or apology to get out of his agony. It would seem like Pilate had all the power and that Jesus had none. But this was not the case.
It is clear during Jesus’ time with Pilate that Jesus had the power. Pilate, who had the army right outside, who had all the accoutrement of position, is on his heels throughout his time with this half-naked preacher and teacher.
Pilate asks, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus responds, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” (See John 18: 33-38)
Pilate wants to know if Jesus is a threat to King Caesar. He is thinking about a political king.
But Jesus just sidesteps him. He doesn’t really answer. They go back and forth and Pilate asks him again if he is a king and Jesus says, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” And then Pilate asks him, “What is truth?”
Yes, good question. What is truth? What is your truth? What is the truth of your life—the truth that you stand upon and hope upon?
Is Jesus our King, our Lord, our Savior, our Leader, our All, or is some version, some manifestation, of Pilate, who represents all the principalities and powers of this world? We all have a choice.
It took me years to see Jesus’ courage in this interview, years to see that he had the power and not Pilate, years to see that he didn’t flinch.
He didn’t flinch because he knew that if he did, his work of reconciliation between God and us would have been destroyed. He didn’t flinch because he looked at God’s call to him and our need for him. He didn’t flinch because what could Pilate do other than take his life. He didn’t flinch because he knew that in giving that very life his mission would be complete.
If you follow Jesus you are in an apprenticeship of learning how not to flinch to life, to love, to hope, to forgiveness, to service, to joy. So, be like Jesus. Don’t flinch.
Jesus has been picked up by the Roman guards. His dearest friends and disciples have vanished. He has been up all night, being shuttled from one tribunal to the next. He has suffered insults. He has endured endless questioning. He has heard Peter deny him. He is facing his death.
It would seem like everything was stacked against him. It would seem like he would have had almost nothing left, that he would have agreed to almost any confession or apology to get out of his agony. It would seem like Pilate had all the power and that Jesus had none. But this was not the case.
It is clear during Jesus’ time with Pilate that Jesus had the power. Pilate, who had the army right outside, who had all the accoutrement of position, is on his heels throughout his time with this half-naked preacher and teacher.
Pilate asks, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus responds, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” (See John 18: 33-38)
Pilate wants to know if Jesus is a threat to King Caesar. He is thinking about a political king.
But Jesus just sidesteps him. He doesn’t really answer. They go back and forth and Pilate asks him again if he is a king and Jesus says, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” And then Pilate asks him, “What is truth?”
Yes, good question. What is truth? What is your truth? What is the truth of your life—the truth that you stand upon and hope upon?
Is Jesus our King, our Lord, our Savior, our Leader, our All, or is some version, some manifestation, of Pilate, who represents all the principalities and powers of this world? We all have a choice.
It took me years to see Jesus’ courage in this interview, years to see that he had the power and not Pilate, years to see that he didn’t flinch.
He didn’t flinch because he knew that if he did, his work of reconciliation between God and us would have been destroyed. He didn’t flinch because he looked at God’s call to him and our need for him. He didn’t flinch because what could Pilate do other than take his life. He didn’t flinch because he knew that in giving that very life his mission would be complete.
If you follow Jesus you are in an apprenticeship of learning how not to flinch to life, to love, to hope, to forgiveness, to service, to joy. So, be like Jesus. Don’t flinch.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Jesus Became Bread and Blood - Day 41*
* I have posted blogs on the Sundays in Lent. Sundays are not counted in the 40 days of Lent so that I will actually have 46 postings. JWN
Jesus and his disciples were celebrating the Passover supper, the event and occasion when the Jews remembered the night that they left Egypt, when they were set free from slavery for freedom, when they went from having no land to anticipating the Promised Land, when they put blood on their doorposts to mark them and protect them so that the angel of death would pass over them. Every time the Jews celebrated the Passover they would re-member all of these events, and by re-member I am trying to convey not a simple intellectual recollection, but an actual “re-membering,” redoing, and reenacting all that happening.
We call this event the Last Supper. During this event Jesus took the bread and said this is now my body. During this event Jesus took the wine and said this is now my blood. So, now, he said, eat my body and drink my blood. This is how you become one with me and how I become one with you.
I have had the great joy and privilege of standing at God’s altar and saying Jesus’ words now for many years. I am clear that at the table I am a waiter. I am clear that Jesus is there, that he is the Host, and that the bread and wine do indeed become His Body and His Blood. How all that happens, well, I cannot—nor can anyone else—entirely explain. But that is alright. There is a mystery there that is beyond our words.
The Last Supper has never ended. It is still going on every time we gather around God’s table. He gives us his body and blood in order to feed us and in order to transform us. I do believe in the miracle that such ordinary things as bread and wine are transformed into his body and blood. And, I do believe in the miracle that he takes us, such ordinary folks as us, and transforms us into his body and blood for the world. We become what we eat. As we partake of the sacraments, we are called to become living and walking and extending sacraments. The first miracle is great—the bread and wine becoming his body and blood. The second miracle could perhaps be even greater—you and me becoming his body and blood for the world.
Jesus and his disciples were celebrating the Passover supper, the event and occasion when the Jews remembered the night that they left Egypt, when they were set free from slavery for freedom, when they went from having no land to anticipating the Promised Land, when they put blood on their doorposts to mark them and protect them so that the angel of death would pass over them. Every time the Jews celebrated the Passover they would re-member all of these events, and by re-member I am trying to convey not a simple intellectual recollection, but an actual “re-membering,” redoing, and reenacting all that happening.
We call this event the Last Supper. During this event Jesus took the bread and said this is now my body. During this event Jesus took the wine and said this is now my blood. So, now, he said, eat my body and drink my blood. This is how you become one with me and how I become one with you.
I have had the great joy and privilege of standing at God’s altar and saying Jesus’ words now for many years. I am clear that at the table I am a waiter. I am clear that Jesus is there, that he is the Host, and that the bread and wine do indeed become His Body and His Blood. How all that happens, well, I cannot—nor can anyone else—entirely explain. But that is alright. There is a mystery there that is beyond our words.
The Last Supper has never ended. It is still going on every time we gather around God’s table. He gives us his body and blood in order to feed us and in order to transform us. I do believe in the miracle that such ordinary things as bread and wine are transformed into his body and blood. And, I do believe in the miracle that he takes us, such ordinary folks as us, and transforms us into his body and blood for the world. We become what we eat. As we partake of the sacraments, we are called to become living and walking and extending sacraments. The first miracle is great—the bread and wine becoming his body and blood. The second miracle could perhaps be even greater—you and me becoming his body and blood for the world.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Jesus Served - Day 40
Last Supper. The disciples knew it. Jesus knew it. We know it by reading the account. Solemn. Quiet. Tense.
At a quiet moment, Jesus “got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.” (see John 13: 1-15) After wrangling with Peter about whether or not Jesus is going to wash his feet, Jesus says, “So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set an example, that you should do as I have done to you.”
I was in seminary and was chosen to be one of representatives in the community that would have his feet washed by one of the faculty members. As I saw Fr. Hunt (he was our Old Testament professor) kneel before me to wash my feet I began to cry.
Once I got out of seminary I was asked to oversee the foot washing ceremony at the Cathedral in Portland, Maine, when the bishop would wash the feet of 12 leaders from the diocese. As I watched the bishop do this washing I kept hearing in my heart and head Jesus’ words: If I have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. I knew at that moment that someday I would design a foot washing service where everyone was invited to wash and be washed.
Which is, of course, what we have been doing at Palmer for many years now. Every year I go back to that moment when Fr. Hunt washed my feet. Every year I cry as I see couples come forward and children and parents come forward and complete strangers come forward and sometimes even folks who don’t much like each other come forward to wash each other’s feet. Every year I see Jesus in it all. Every year I see so much grace and love and peace and connection and joy.
The water from the feet washing is, of course, a bit…well…linty. But it is also Holy Water. It is Holy because Jesus was in the water, in the washing, in the touching.
If you haven’t come to this service before, don’t be afraid or anxious. Just come. Just wash. Just be washed. See Jesus kneeling before you. See him in the person you wash. Jesus said “do it,” and we do.
At a quiet moment, Jesus “got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.” (see John 13: 1-15) After wrangling with Peter about whether or not Jesus is going to wash his feet, Jesus says, “So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set an example, that you should do as I have done to you.”
I was in seminary and was chosen to be one of representatives in the community that would have his feet washed by one of the faculty members. As I saw Fr. Hunt (he was our Old Testament professor) kneel before me to wash my feet I began to cry.
Once I got out of seminary I was asked to oversee the foot washing ceremony at the Cathedral in Portland, Maine, when the bishop would wash the feet of 12 leaders from the diocese. As I watched the bishop do this washing I kept hearing in my heart and head Jesus’ words: If I have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. I knew at that moment that someday I would design a foot washing service where everyone was invited to wash and be washed.
Which is, of course, what we have been doing at Palmer for many years now. Every year I go back to that moment when Fr. Hunt washed my feet. Every year I cry as I see couples come forward and children and parents come forward and complete strangers come forward and sometimes even folks who don’t much like each other come forward to wash each other’s feet. Every year I see Jesus in it all. Every year I see so much grace and love and peace and connection and joy.
The water from the feet washing is, of course, a bit…well…linty. But it is also Holy Water. It is Holy because Jesus was in the water, in the washing, in the touching.
If you haven’t come to this service before, don’t be afraid or anxious. Just come. Just wash. Just be washed. See Jesus kneeling before you. See him in the person you wash. Jesus said “do it,” and we do.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Jesus Led the Parade - Day 39
I used to love Palm Sunday as a kid. It may even have been my favorite day. I loved the pageantry. I enjoyed the parading around. I liked the palms that we folded up into crosses. I liked the chaos and mess and movement of it all. Compared to Palm Sunday, Easter seemed just like the regular services, just more music, more people, more flowers.
No, Palm Sunday was my day. But then, as an adult, I began to understand that Jesus was riding to his death. The day always starts with such joy and it always ends with such pain. We go from singing, “hosanna” to crying, “crucify.” The day is now the hardest day of the year for me. It is the stretch of emotions that always gets to me. It is the whiplash from extreme hope to dire pain, from celebration to execration, from trust to denial, from light to darkness that always completely exhausts and challenges me.
Jesus led the parade. He knows that he is parading not to victory but to defeat, not to glory but to shame, not to be clothed in royal robes but to be stripped naked, not to a crown of gold but one of thorns. He knows all this and he still rides on.
That is courage. That is faith. That is love.
He led the parade for us. For us and for the whole world for all time. It is the parade of glory and victory in the end.
He led the parade with a courage that is hard for us to imagine. But we can be grateful for it.
All Jesus wants us to do now is to join him in the parade of love and commitment and faith. He doesn’t want us to watch him pass by. He wants us to join him.
Once I understood that—that Jesus wants us in the parade with him—it helps me to get through Palm Sunday. It is still a painful day, though. It grieves me that Jesus had to die for us. I am, however, very grateful that he did.
No, Palm Sunday was my day. But then, as an adult, I began to understand that Jesus was riding to his death. The day always starts with such joy and it always ends with such pain. We go from singing, “hosanna” to crying, “crucify.” The day is now the hardest day of the year for me. It is the stretch of emotions that always gets to me. It is the whiplash from extreme hope to dire pain, from celebration to execration, from trust to denial, from light to darkness that always completely exhausts and challenges me.
Jesus led the parade. He knows that he is parading not to victory but to defeat, not to glory but to shame, not to be clothed in royal robes but to be stripped naked, not to a crown of gold but one of thorns. He knows all this and he still rides on.
That is courage. That is faith. That is love.
He led the parade for us. For us and for the whole world for all time. It is the parade of glory and victory in the end.
He led the parade with a courage that is hard for us to imagine. But we can be grateful for it.
All Jesus wants us to do now is to join him in the parade of love and commitment and faith. He doesn’t want us to watch him pass by. He wants us to join him.
Once I understood that—that Jesus wants us in the parade with him—it helps me to get through Palm Sunday. It is still a painful day, though. It grieves me that Jesus had to die for us. I am, however, very grateful that he did.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Jesus Wept - Day 38
Jesus has been on the road towards Jerusalem. This will be his final trip there. He knows that things are about to come to a head. He knows that he is going to be confronting the religious and civil authorities. Just as Jesus came to the outskirts of the city we are invited into his heart: “As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes….’” (Luke 19: 41-42)
Jesus wept. He wept because he knew that the people didn’t really know who he was or what he came to do. He wept because he knew that the religious authorities would not open their hearts to receive him and to change. He wept because he knew that the civil authorities were entrenched and that they cared more about power than either justice or peace. He wept because he must have wondered if his death, and yes he must have known he was soon to die, would matter. He wept because he must have wondered if his life or message or example would live on. He wept because he saw the stubbornness and foolishness of people’s hearts.
Jesus wept then as he stood looking at Jerusalem, and Jesus weeps now. He weeps when we turn away from him, when we hurt ourselves or someone else, when we don’t share, when we don’t love, when we don’t forgive, when we harbor anger, when we nurture resentments, when we horde while other people are needy, when we complain and whine while forgetting or denying just how blessed we are, when we don’t commend the faith that is in us, when we fall into addictions that rob our joy and health, when we make choices for death and not for life, when we walk away from community or tear into it, when we forget that we and all other people are precious children of God, when we reject that we are our brother’s and our sister’s keeper and protector, when we try to gain the whole world while putting our soul into jeopardy.
We wipe away the tears of Jesus when we choose life and love and faith and community and peace and fairness and trust and joy.
It breaks my heart to think that Jesus wept on that day long ago. It even more breaks my heart to think about how we can cause Jesus to weep today. But it also gladdens my heart to consider how we can wipe away some of his tears by how we act and live and speak today. As for me, I would rather wipe away his tears than cause them. I am sure you feel the same way.
Jesus wept. He wept because he knew that the people didn’t really know who he was or what he came to do. He wept because he knew that the religious authorities would not open their hearts to receive him and to change. He wept because he knew that the civil authorities were entrenched and that they cared more about power than either justice or peace. He wept because he must have wondered if his death, and yes he must have known he was soon to die, would matter. He wept because he must have wondered if his life or message or example would live on. He wept because he saw the stubbornness and foolishness of people’s hearts.
Jesus wept then as he stood looking at Jerusalem, and Jesus weeps now. He weeps when we turn away from him, when we hurt ourselves or someone else, when we don’t share, when we don’t love, when we don’t forgive, when we harbor anger, when we nurture resentments, when we horde while other people are needy, when we complain and whine while forgetting or denying just how blessed we are, when we don’t commend the faith that is in us, when we fall into addictions that rob our joy and health, when we make choices for death and not for life, when we walk away from community or tear into it, when we forget that we and all other people are precious children of God, when we reject that we are our brother’s and our sister’s keeper and protector, when we try to gain the whole world while putting our soul into jeopardy.
We wipe away the tears of Jesus when we choose life and love and faith and community and peace and fairness and trust and joy.
It breaks my heart to think that Jesus wept on that day long ago. It even more breaks my heart to think about how we can cause Jesus to weep today. But it also gladdens my heart to consider how we can wipe away some of his tears by how we act and live and speak today. As for me, I would rather wipe away his tears than cause them. I am sure you feel the same way.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Jesus Wants a Friend - Day 37
We are now at the Last Supper. The disciples know that things are about to come to an end. There is great tension and fear in the air. Everything that Jesus says and does captures their most intense focus. They are worried for Jesus and for themselves. If he is taken, if he is captured, who will take care of them and lead them and love them? During this time, Jesus says some very profound things and some very simple things. Jesus had a gift for keeping the profound and the simple in tension.
An example of the latter: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15: 12-13)
I admit that I once didn’t like the song that began with these words, “What a friend we have in Jesus…” I thought that thinking about Jesus as a friend somehow diminished him. I thought that such sentiments were somehow undignified. I was a “song-snob.”
When Jesus first walked up to Peter and Andrew and James and John on the seashore, asking them to follow him, they didn’t think that he was the Messiah, the Son of God, or the Second Person of the Trinity. They thought of him as a new and exciting friend. When Jesus chose the rest of the 12, he was choosing them to be his followers, yes, but he was also choosing them because he wanted some friends. He wanted the support and encouragement and joy and camaraderie that friends can give. The human-Jesus wanted and needed friends.
We, too, need friends. I think that in many ways it can be harder to make friends the older you get. We seem to have less time. We feel so preoccupied with all the rest of life and work. But we never stop needing friends. I listen to a lot of lonely people in my office. Maybe loneliness is the most prevalent issue that I hear.
What a friend we have in Jesus. Maybe it is time to stop thinking about Jesus only theologically. Maybe it is time to also think about him as your friend. You need one (and, of course, I would suggest that you also work on other friendships as well), and he wants one, too. Yes, Jesus wants you as his friend. Novel concept for you, perhaps, but there it is right in scripture. He came to be our friend. He came to make friends. He wants you to be his.
An example of the latter: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15: 12-13)
I admit that I once didn’t like the song that began with these words, “What a friend we have in Jesus…” I thought that thinking about Jesus as a friend somehow diminished him. I thought that such sentiments were somehow undignified. I was a “song-snob.”
When Jesus first walked up to Peter and Andrew and James and John on the seashore, asking them to follow him, they didn’t think that he was the Messiah, the Son of God, or the Second Person of the Trinity. They thought of him as a new and exciting friend. When Jesus chose the rest of the 12, he was choosing them to be his followers, yes, but he was also choosing them because he wanted some friends. He wanted the support and encouragement and joy and camaraderie that friends can give. The human-Jesus wanted and needed friends.
We, too, need friends. I think that in many ways it can be harder to make friends the older you get. We seem to have less time. We feel so preoccupied with all the rest of life and work. But we never stop needing friends. I listen to a lot of lonely people in my office. Maybe loneliness is the most prevalent issue that I hear.
What a friend we have in Jesus. Maybe it is time to stop thinking about Jesus only theologically. Maybe it is time to also think about him as your friend. You need one (and, of course, I would suggest that you also work on other friendships as well), and he wants one, too. Yes, Jesus wants you as his friend. Novel concept for you, perhaps, but there it is right in scripture. He came to be our friend. He came to make friends. He wants you to be his.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Jesus Used the Boy's Snack - Day 36
The boy was out for a day of fishing. He took along his lunch to keep him for the day. He got to the shore and noticed a great throng of people. He wedged his way into the middle of the crowd to see what was going on. There he is with his fishing rod, his bait, his little net, and his lunch.
He saw Jesus. He didn’t know who Jesus was. But he saw him and he listened to him. He then heard Jesus say that his followers needed to feed all the folks. And then he heard them protest that there was no way they could do that—there were too many folks; there was not enough food.
At some point in the midst of all this wrangling the boy found Andrew or Andrew found the boy. At some point the boy’s snack was offered to Jesus. At some point Jesus took the boy’s snack, said the prayer, broke the bread, sliced the fish, and fed the multitudes.
We always talk about the miracle of Jesus feeding the five thousand; and yes, that kind of multiplication is a miracle. But how about the gift of the boy—let us not lose track of him. Without him and his snack and his willingness to offer all he had, Jesus wouldn’t have had the “goods” to do his miracle.
I have always felt very close to this boy. No, I never relished going out to fish for a day, but I, like him, and like the disciples, have felt the gap between what I had to give and what needed to happen. Sometimes, unlike this boy, I didn’t offer my gift because I felt so inadequate about it. I wonder how I have let people go hungry in my life because I walked away and kept my lunch to myself, either because I simply didn’t want to share or because I felt like my gift would never be enough.
With Jesus it is. Your gift is enough. So, be like the boy. Your snack, your life, your gift, your offering is enough. Just give it. Don’t judge youself and/or your gift. If Jesus could feed the multitudes with the boy’s snack just imagine what he could do with what you have to offer.
He saw Jesus. He didn’t know who Jesus was. But he saw him and he listened to him. He then heard Jesus say that his followers needed to feed all the folks. And then he heard them protest that there was no way they could do that—there were too many folks; there was not enough food.
At some point in the midst of all this wrangling the boy found Andrew or Andrew found the boy. At some point the boy’s snack was offered to Jesus. At some point Jesus took the boy’s snack, said the prayer, broke the bread, sliced the fish, and fed the multitudes.
We always talk about the miracle of Jesus feeding the five thousand; and yes, that kind of multiplication is a miracle. But how about the gift of the boy—let us not lose track of him. Without him and his snack and his willingness to offer all he had, Jesus wouldn’t have had the “goods” to do his miracle.
I have always felt very close to this boy. No, I never relished going out to fish for a day, but I, like him, and like the disciples, have felt the gap between what I had to give and what needed to happen. Sometimes, unlike this boy, I didn’t offer my gift because I felt so inadequate about it. I wonder how I have let people go hungry in my life because I walked away and kept my lunch to myself, either because I simply didn’t want to share or because I felt like my gift would never be enough.
With Jesus it is. Your gift is enough. So, be like the boy. Your snack, your life, your gift, your offering is enough. Just give it. Don’t judge youself and/or your gift. If Jesus could feed the multitudes with the boy’s snack just imagine what he could do with what you have to offer.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Jesus Knew the Worth of a Penny - Day 35
Jesus and his disciples are sitting opposite the treasury, which was either a special room in the temple or a collection box in the outer courts. Rich folks are coming in and letting everyone know how much they are putting in. People praise them. They are feeling pretty good about themselves. There is probably some preening and strutting and grandstanding and competing going on.
In the midst of all this, a poor widow silently walks through the crowd and puts two small copper coins, worth about a penny, into the box. Jesus then said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” (Mark 12:41-44)
Jesus knew the worth of a penny. For Jesus it was not the size of the gift that mattered. What mattered was the size of the commitment, the size of the sacrifice, the size of the generosity. And the woman out-gave them all. Hands-down. If Jesus were running a church I hope he would have made her the stewardship-chair.
I once met this poor widow’s “granddaughter.” She had made some “bad” choices in her life. She was on welfare. She was living in subsidized housing. We, the church, were constantly helping her, moving her, taking care of her children, bailing her out of trouble. She was a High-Grace-Required-Person. But she was also our most generous giver. She tithed. Yep. Right-off-the-top. No strings. No questions. No equivocations. No excuses. Ten percent. I had her give her testimony one year and her words touched more hearts, more pledges, more checkbooks than any other talk I have ever witnessed.
It would be easy for anyone of us to say to ourselves, “Well, she could give more because she had less to give.” Careful. Do you really want to say that even to yourself? Remember that Jesus stands outside the treasury of your own heart.
Jesus knew the worth of a penny. He knew that the poor widow’s penny represented a true gift, a sacrificial gift, a generous gift, a heart-gift.
I had written above that, “if Jesus were running a church I hope he would have made her the Stewardship-chair.” But, of course, Jesus is supposed to be running a church. The church is his church. And he did make this woman if not the stewardship chair, then the stewardship example for us all. Jesus knew the worth of her penny. Do we know and share and worth of our own?
In the midst of all this, a poor widow silently walks through the crowd and puts two small copper coins, worth about a penny, into the box. Jesus then said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” (Mark 12:41-44)
Jesus knew the worth of a penny. For Jesus it was not the size of the gift that mattered. What mattered was the size of the commitment, the size of the sacrifice, the size of the generosity. And the woman out-gave them all. Hands-down. If Jesus were running a church I hope he would have made her the stewardship-chair.
I once met this poor widow’s “granddaughter.” She had made some “bad” choices in her life. She was on welfare. She was living in subsidized housing. We, the church, were constantly helping her, moving her, taking care of her children, bailing her out of trouble. She was a High-Grace-Required-Person. But she was also our most generous giver. She tithed. Yep. Right-off-the-top. No strings. No questions. No equivocations. No excuses. Ten percent. I had her give her testimony one year and her words touched more hearts, more pledges, more checkbooks than any other talk I have ever witnessed.
It would be easy for anyone of us to say to ourselves, “Well, she could give more because she had less to give.” Careful. Do you really want to say that even to yourself? Remember that Jesus stands outside the treasury of your own heart.
Jesus knew the worth of a penny. He knew that the poor widow’s penny represented a true gift, a sacrificial gift, a generous gift, a heart-gift.
I had written above that, “if Jesus were running a church I hope he would have made her the Stewardship-chair.” But, of course, Jesus is supposed to be running a church. The church is his church. And he did make this woman if not the stewardship chair, then the stewardship example for us all. Jesus knew the worth of her penny. Do we know and share and worth of our own?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Jesus Boiled It Down - Day 34
The Jews had a lot of rules and regulations and commandments. They catalogued them. They compared them and ranked them. They wrangled and argued over them. They set up political parties and ecclesiastical sub-groups over them.
That is the background to one of the scribes coming to Jesus and asking him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” (Mark 12:28f) We don’t know if the scribe really wanted to know what Jesus had to say or if he was only trying to draw Jesus into a never-ending and going-nowhere theological debate.
Jesus was very clear about the answer: “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your souls, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
There it is. Jesus boiled it all down. Love. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself.
Love God because God is love and because God is worthy of love. When you don’t love God you are separated from God and from how God designed you to be. Love your neighbor because your neighbor is a child of God, because you neighbor is made in God’s image, and because you need your neighbor and your neighbor needs you. Love yourself because you too are a child of God and because you need love and deserve love and want love.
I started with how the Jews had lots of rules and regulations and commandments, and how they compared them, ranked them, and set-up parties over them. I am, of course, not just talking about them. I am, of course, talking about many of us. I am talking about so many of our churches. I am talking about so many of our church debates and even how such theological issues get worked at times in our political process.
Jesus, though, boiled it all down. Love. Is there some place in your life where you would do well to do the same? Just boil it down. I am not asking you to live a simplistic life. But sometimes our complexity is self-induced. Sometimes all of our complexity—like that of the scribes wrangling the relative importance of each law—is a way of avoiding what we most need to do, and that is to love God, love our neighbor, and love our self.
That is the background to one of the scribes coming to Jesus and asking him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” (Mark 12:28f) We don’t know if the scribe really wanted to know what Jesus had to say or if he was only trying to draw Jesus into a never-ending and going-nowhere theological debate.
Jesus was very clear about the answer: “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your souls, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
There it is. Jesus boiled it all down. Love. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself.
Love God because God is love and because God is worthy of love. When you don’t love God you are separated from God and from how God designed you to be. Love your neighbor because your neighbor is a child of God, because you neighbor is made in God’s image, and because you need your neighbor and your neighbor needs you. Love yourself because you too are a child of God and because you need love and deserve love and want love.
I started with how the Jews had lots of rules and regulations and commandments, and how they compared them, ranked them, and set-up parties over them. I am, of course, not just talking about them. I am, of course, talking about many of us. I am talking about so many of our churches. I am talking about so many of our church debates and even how such theological issues get worked at times in our political process.
Jesus, though, boiled it all down. Love. Is there some place in your life where you would do well to do the same? Just boil it down. I am not asking you to live a simplistic life. But sometimes our complexity is self-induced. Sometimes all of our complexity—like that of the scribes wrangling the relative importance of each law—is a way of avoiding what we most need to do, and that is to love God, love our neighbor, and love our self.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Jesus Overturned the Tables - Day 33
It may well have been the final straw. We are in the temple. Jesus goes in to worship and he can barely get through the animal vendors, the moneychangers, and the temple administrators who are counting up the profits. All of them are making a killing on the poor pilgrims who are coming to the Passover rituals in Jerusalem. The temple is no more a place of prayer and adoration and worship and confession and thanksgiving. It has been taken over by money transactions, greed, bartering, trading. It is no more a temple dedicated to worship. It is now a market-place-bazaar.
Jesus loses it. He starts to overturn all of the tables. Mayhem ensues. Animals go berserk. Coins are rolling everywhere. The temple officials gather to condemn Jesus—they have had enough and he, Jesus, must go. Too much is at stake for him to continue.
Jesus overturns the tables. He did it then that day in Jerusalem at the temple and he does it now. What he did that day is a metaphor or symbol of what he still does. He overturns our tables when we turn our own inner temples into practices that undermine our faith, that drain our souls, that corrupt our minds, and that shrink our hearts.
Jesus got very angry when he entered the temple that day. Behind and beneath all of his fierce anger is his love. He wants nothing to distract us, to rob us, to compromise our temple. He cleansed the temple in Jerusalem on that day. How might he right now be trying to cleanse you? How might he right now be overturning some of your own tables? How might he right now be calling you to true worship and adoration and prayer?
Jesus loses it. He starts to overturn all of the tables. Mayhem ensues. Animals go berserk. Coins are rolling everywhere. The temple officials gather to condemn Jesus—they have had enough and he, Jesus, must go. Too much is at stake for him to continue.
Jesus overturns the tables. He did it then that day in Jerusalem at the temple and he does it now. What he did that day is a metaphor or symbol of what he still does. He overturns our tables when we turn our own inner temples into practices that undermine our faith, that drain our souls, that corrupt our minds, and that shrink our hearts.
Jesus got very angry when he entered the temple that day. Behind and beneath all of his fierce anger is his love. He wants nothing to distract us, to rob us, to compromise our temple. He cleansed the temple in Jerusalem on that day. How might he right now be trying to cleanse you? How might he right now be overturning some of your own tables? How might he right now be calling you to true worship and adoration and prayer?
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Jesus Challenged the Rich - Day 32
Quite suddenly a man is kneeling before Jesus, asking him this question: “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17f)
Jesus tells him to follow the commandments. He doesn’t initially seem like he wants to engage in the man’s question. The man quickly responds that he has, but that something is still missing. Jesus then, looking at him, “loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me. When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.’”
The man chose his possessions over Jesus. His stuff mattered more to him than eternal life. He grieved because he didn’t know how—didn’t want to—give away his things in order to follow Jesus. He couldn’t have his possessions and follow Jesus. To follow Jesus you have got to travel light.
Every year during the stewardship season (now, friends, that is a misnomer because all year is the stewardship season) I will have someone tell me to stop talking about money and to get back to preaching on spiritual issues. Money is a spiritual issue. What we do with it is a spiritual issue. Jesus talks constantly about money because he knows that any one of us are at risk of worshiping what we have, of being possessed by our possessions, of giving our first efforts to making and earning and accumulating stuff while putting our souls and our relationships at huge risk.
These are difficult times—times when many of us are worried about our money, our futures, our retirements, our commitments.
We are right now, many of us, on our knees. What will happen to us? What can we do to turn things around? Where is the bottom? Will I have to work until I drop? Will I need to downsize? Will my kids need to go to another college?
As you are asking all of these real and hard questions, remember, please do turn your gaze to Jesus. And remember to ask: “Jesus, where are you in all this? Will you, please, keep me from going crazy, keep me from losing my soul, keep me from losing my focus and trust and faith?”
Do not, like the rich man in this story, turn away from Jesus during this time. Turn towards him. He is there. If you have to travel a bit lighter in the future, so be it. Those who follow Jesus often do.
Jesus tells him to follow the commandments. He doesn’t initially seem like he wants to engage in the man’s question. The man quickly responds that he has, but that something is still missing. Jesus then, looking at him, “loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me. When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.’”
The man chose his possessions over Jesus. His stuff mattered more to him than eternal life. He grieved because he didn’t know how—didn’t want to—give away his things in order to follow Jesus. He couldn’t have his possessions and follow Jesus. To follow Jesus you have got to travel light.
Every year during the stewardship season (now, friends, that is a misnomer because all year is the stewardship season) I will have someone tell me to stop talking about money and to get back to preaching on spiritual issues. Money is a spiritual issue. What we do with it is a spiritual issue. Jesus talks constantly about money because he knows that any one of us are at risk of worshiping what we have, of being possessed by our possessions, of giving our first efforts to making and earning and accumulating stuff while putting our souls and our relationships at huge risk.
These are difficult times—times when many of us are worried about our money, our futures, our retirements, our commitments.
We are right now, many of us, on our knees. What will happen to us? What can we do to turn things around? Where is the bottom? Will I have to work until I drop? Will I need to downsize? Will my kids need to go to another college?
As you are asking all of these real and hard questions, remember, please do turn your gaze to Jesus. And remember to ask: “Jesus, where are you in all this? Will you, please, keep me from going crazy, keep me from losing my soul, keep me from losing my focus and trust and faith?”
Do not, like the rich man in this story, turn away from Jesus during this time. Turn towards him. He is there. If you have to travel a bit lighter in the future, so be it. Those who follow Jesus often do.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Jesus Needed Help - Day 31
It had been a difficult time. Peter had finally said that Jesus was the Messiah, Jesus then told them what he, the Messiah, had to do (suffer and die), Peter had rebuked Jesus, Jesus then rebuked Peter. Things were very quiet in the camp for the next week. No one dared to talk. No one quite knew what to do.
Six days after all of these difficult revelations and tumultuous confrontations, Jesus takes Peter and James and John to a “high mountain apart… [where]… he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” (See Mark 9:2-8)
While there in all of his glory, Moses and Elijah showed up and the three could overhear their conversation. I have always wondered what Moses and Elijah had to say to Jesus, and what Jesus had to say to them. I have always imagined that Moses and Elijah were there to give Jesus support and encouragement. As soon as Jesus came down the mountain he set off for Jerusalem; as soon as he came down out of the light he began to descend into the “valley of the shadow of death.” As much as he was clear about his mission, no one could embark upon it and not feel some trepidation. So what I hear Moses and Elijah saying is something like this: “Jesus, our ways, the ways of the Law and the Prophets, were not enough. These ways didn’t bring the people back to God. These ways didn’t change their hearts. These ways didn’t melt their resistance. Now, it is your turn. Maybe your death, your blood, your sacrifice, will help the people to see how much God loves them. We are with you. Always.”
Jesus needed help. We all do. If Jesus needed help, who are we not to be open to it ourselves? I know many people—me included here, sometimes—who are much better at giving help than accepting it. That is pretty foolish when you think about it, isn’t it? And, it is pretty arrogant. There is no self-sufficiency in life or in the Body of Christ.
So, be both humble enough and strong enough to ask for some help. Jesus did. And he got it. So will you when you ask. Be like Jesus.
Six days after all of these difficult revelations and tumultuous confrontations, Jesus takes Peter and James and John to a “high mountain apart… [where]… he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” (See Mark 9:2-8)
While there in all of his glory, Moses and Elijah showed up and the three could overhear their conversation. I have always wondered what Moses and Elijah had to say to Jesus, and what Jesus had to say to them. I have always imagined that Moses and Elijah were there to give Jesus support and encouragement. As soon as Jesus came down the mountain he set off for Jerusalem; as soon as he came down out of the light he began to descend into the “valley of the shadow of death.” As much as he was clear about his mission, no one could embark upon it and not feel some trepidation. So what I hear Moses and Elijah saying is something like this: “Jesus, our ways, the ways of the Law and the Prophets, were not enough. These ways didn’t bring the people back to God. These ways didn’t change their hearts. These ways didn’t melt their resistance. Now, it is your turn. Maybe your death, your blood, your sacrifice, will help the people to see how much God loves them. We are with you. Always.”
Jesus needed help. We all do. If Jesus needed help, who are we not to be open to it ourselves? I know many people—me included here, sometimes—who are much better at giving help than accepting it. That is pretty foolish when you think about it, isn’t it? And, it is pretty arrogant. There is no self-sufficiency in life or in the Body of Christ.
So, be both humble enough and strong enough to ask for some help. Jesus did. And he got it. So will you when you ask. Be like Jesus.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Jesus Upped-the-Ante Day 30
For a long time following Jesus had been a great adventure. The disciples had seen him do just incredible things. He then sent them out to do the same in his name and they did it. They just know that they are about something that is very big, something that could change everything. All of their wildest hopes and visions and dreams seem to be coming true.
But then the whole mood begins to change. They had been hearing the rumors about Jesus. Some had begun to speculate that Jesus could be the Messiah. When Jesus asks them who they say he is, Peter says, “You are the Messiah,” and just when they think they are about to celebrate, Jesus immediately gives them a completely different understanding of what the Messiah is going to do. He says, “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed…” (Mark 8:31) The disciples are crushed. They are confused. Peter tries to correct Jesus, and then Jesus rebukes Peter. It is an awful sequence.
And then, Jesus upped-the-ante even more: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (8:34)
It is amazing that they stayed with Jesus at all. What he says about himself they didn’t count on. What he says about them they didn’t count on either.
Following God’s plan, God’s rescue mission, cost Jesus his life. Jesus couldn’t do what he was called to do, what we needed him to do, without giving his life. His life for our life. His sacrifice for our sins. We sometimes don’t like to talk about the Christian life with such stark terms, such dire straits; no, it is much easier to talk about church, or about our liturgy, or about some social or moral issue—but there is no way around what Jesus did for us and there is no way around what he says it means to follow him.
His cross, our cross. His sacrifice, our sacrifice. Discipleship costs. No way around it. Grace may be free, as we say, but Jesus had to give his life to give it to us. We must give him ours to receive it.
Jesus upped-the-ante and staked his whole life for us. What are we willing to stake for him?
But then the whole mood begins to change. They had been hearing the rumors about Jesus. Some had begun to speculate that Jesus could be the Messiah. When Jesus asks them who they say he is, Peter says, “You are the Messiah,” and just when they think they are about to celebrate, Jesus immediately gives them a completely different understanding of what the Messiah is going to do. He says, “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed…” (Mark 8:31) The disciples are crushed. They are confused. Peter tries to correct Jesus, and then Jesus rebukes Peter. It is an awful sequence.
And then, Jesus upped-the-ante even more: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (8:34)
It is amazing that they stayed with Jesus at all. What he says about himself they didn’t count on. What he says about them they didn’t count on either.
Following God’s plan, God’s rescue mission, cost Jesus his life. Jesus couldn’t do what he was called to do, what we needed him to do, without giving his life. His life for our life. His sacrifice for our sins. We sometimes don’t like to talk about the Christian life with such stark terms, such dire straits; no, it is much easier to talk about church, or about our liturgy, or about some social or moral issue—but there is no way around what Jesus did for us and there is no way around what he says it means to follow him.
His cross, our cross. His sacrifice, our sacrifice. Discipleship costs. No way around it. Grace may be free, as we say, but Jesus had to give his life to give it to us. We must give him ours to receive it.
Jesus upped-the-ante and staked his whole life for us. What are we willing to stake for him?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Jesus Wanted to Know the Skinny - Day 29
We all like being in on what is going on. We like the inside word. We like to know what is being said of us. It is the “skinny.” We want to know.
Jesus was no different. As Jesus and his disciples were traveling through Caesarea Philippi, he asked them, “ ‘Who do people say that I am?’ And they answered him, ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’ He asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter answered him, ‘You are the Messiah.’” (Mark 8:27-29)
Under the guise of wanting to know what others were saying about him, the skinny, Jesus actually wanted to know what they, the disciples, thought of him. He wanted to know what they thought, what they were saying, because he knew that faith cannot be second-hand or hearsay. Faith cannot come from someone else’s words. Faith must be your own words. We cannot live anyone else’s faith, only our own.
We must know that Jesus puts the same question to us. Jesus wants to know what we have to say. He doesn’t want to know what we hear, what we read, what we may recite, or what we may sing. We all know that we can hear and read and recite and sing a lot of words that don’t sink in, that don’t necessarily mean all that much. Jesus knows the same thing.
So, again, who do you say that Jesus is for you? He wants to know. He doesn’t want to know for his sake—Jesus knows who he is. He wants to know who you say that he is for your sake.
Jesus was no different. As Jesus and his disciples were traveling through Caesarea Philippi, he asked them, “ ‘Who do people say that I am?’ And they answered him, ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’ He asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter answered him, ‘You are the Messiah.’” (Mark 8:27-29)
Under the guise of wanting to know what others were saying about him, the skinny, Jesus actually wanted to know what they, the disciples, thought of him. He wanted to know what they thought, what they were saying, because he knew that faith cannot be second-hand or hearsay. Faith cannot come from someone else’s words. Faith must be your own words. We cannot live anyone else’s faith, only our own.
We must know that Jesus puts the same question to us. Jesus wants to know what we have to say. He doesn’t want to know what we hear, what we read, what we may recite, or what we may sing. We all know that we can hear and read and recite and sing a lot of words that don’t sink in, that don’t necessarily mean all that much. Jesus knows the same thing.
So, again, who do you say that Jesus is for you? He wants to know. He doesn’t want to know for his sake—Jesus knows who he is. He wants to know who you say that he is for your sake.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Jesus Gave Out Hearing Aids - Day 28
“They brought to [Jesus] a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his finger into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed, and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened.’ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.” (Mark 7:32-35)
Actually Jesus himself was the hearing aid, and the speaking aid. Once the man could hear he could then speak. His hearing and his speaking were connected. Jesus used some spit, he touched the man, he said, “Be opened,” and the man could hear and speak.
I know that I sometimes need to have my ears opened. I know that I am sometimes deaf, that I sometimes don’t hear clearly, that I sometimes have selective hearing. I also know that my hearing problems lead to speaking problems. I know that I am this man in the story. I may not actually be deaf, but I am sometimes tone deaf, emotionally deaf, deaf to what is important, deaf even to God. I know that I need healing.
How about you? Do you always hear clearly and speak clearly? Do you ever half hear your spouse or child or partner or boss or employee? Do you ever shut down your ears because you don’t want to hear? I think we might call this “Willful-Deafness.” It is a pretty prominent condition.
If some folks, like this man in the story, brought you to Jesus, and if Jesus took you aside and if he spat and touched your tongue and if he said “Ephphatha” over you, what do you think he would want you to hear? I have some clues. “My brother, my sister, be well, be whole, be happy, be secure, be strong, be forgiven and forgiving, be loved and loving, be God’s.” And once we had heard all this, once our ears had been opened to hear Jesus, how might he want our tongue to be released? What might he want us to say? The same.
Many of us are a bit deaf. Many of us have an impediment in our speech. Jesus healed then. Jesus can heal now.
Actually Jesus himself was the hearing aid, and the speaking aid. Once the man could hear he could then speak. His hearing and his speaking were connected. Jesus used some spit, he touched the man, he said, “Be opened,” and the man could hear and speak.
I know that I sometimes need to have my ears opened. I know that I am sometimes deaf, that I sometimes don’t hear clearly, that I sometimes have selective hearing. I also know that my hearing problems lead to speaking problems. I know that I am this man in the story. I may not actually be deaf, but I am sometimes tone deaf, emotionally deaf, deaf to what is important, deaf even to God. I know that I need healing.
How about you? Do you always hear clearly and speak clearly? Do you ever half hear your spouse or child or partner or boss or employee? Do you ever shut down your ears because you don’t want to hear? I think we might call this “Willful-Deafness.” It is a pretty prominent condition.
If some folks, like this man in the story, brought you to Jesus, and if Jesus took you aside and if he spat and touched your tongue and if he said “Ephphatha” over you, what do you think he would want you to hear? I have some clues. “My brother, my sister, be well, be whole, be happy, be secure, be strong, be forgiven and forgiving, be loved and loving, be God’s.” And once we had heard all this, once our ears had been opened to hear Jesus, how might he want our tongue to be released? What might he want us to say? The same.
Many of us are a bit deaf. Many of us have an impediment in our speech. Jesus healed then. Jesus can heal now.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Jesus Was Off - Day 27
By “off,” I mean crazy.
That is what many of his hometown folks thought of him. And that is what his family did as well. Word gets to them about what Jesus is doing. Initially, they probably felt some pride, but then as the stories continued to circulate and as his deeds continued to accumulate they must have become quite concerned, even alarmed.
So, they decide to go get Jesus, bring him home, give him a rest, quiet him. As scripture says, “Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, ‘Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.’ And he replied, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’” (Mark 3: 31-35)
His family never made it inside. Word gets to them about what Jesus says, about how he redefined his family, and they slink away. If they were worried before about him, now they must have been downright convinced that Jesus lost it somewhere along the way.
If you live by the world’s standards, Jesus is off. If you live to be safe, if you live to get more, if you live for power or control or money or things, Jesus is off.
But maybe he is not the one who is off. Maybe any other way besides the “Jesus Way” is what is off. Maybe God designed us to live like Jesus, be like Jesus, think like Jesus. Maybe his off is the true "on." Maybe his craziness is the real sanity. Love your enemy—crazy or sane? Give away your stuff—crazy or sane? Turn the other cheek—crazy or sane? Be a peacemaker—crazy or sane?
At some point you must decide. What is sanity? What is craziness? As for me, I would rather be crazy with Jesus. How about you?
That is what many of his hometown folks thought of him. And that is what his family did as well. Word gets to them about what Jesus is doing. Initially, they probably felt some pride, but then as the stories continued to circulate and as his deeds continued to accumulate they must have become quite concerned, even alarmed.
So, they decide to go get Jesus, bring him home, give him a rest, quiet him. As scripture says, “Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, ‘Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.’ And he replied, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’” (Mark 3: 31-35)
His family never made it inside. Word gets to them about what Jesus says, about how he redefined his family, and they slink away. If they were worried before about him, now they must have been downright convinced that Jesus lost it somewhere along the way.
If you live by the world’s standards, Jesus is off. If you live to be safe, if you live to get more, if you live for power or control or money or things, Jesus is off.
But maybe he is not the one who is off. Maybe any other way besides the “Jesus Way” is what is off. Maybe God designed us to live like Jesus, be like Jesus, think like Jesus. Maybe his off is the true "on." Maybe his craziness is the real sanity. Love your enemy—crazy or sane? Give away your stuff—crazy or sane? Turn the other cheek—crazy or sane? Be a peacemaker—crazy or sane?
At some point you must decide. What is sanity? What is craziness? As for me, I would rather be crazy with Jesus. How about you?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Jesus Lost an Argument - Day 26
Jesus was tired. He had been doing a lot of ministry and mission. He was trying to get-under-the-radar. He needed some rest. But a woman finds him, a mother who had a daughter with “an unclean spirit.” Now you need to know that this woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She went to Jesus and asked him to heal her daughter. Does Jesus do so? Does he act with compassion? Does he even act like a Christian?
His response can still take our breath away: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” (Mark 6: 24f)
The children he is talking about are, of course, the Jews. He is saying that he has come for them. He is saying that he has nothing left for the Gentiles, for this woman, for her daughter.
You would have thought that she might just have turned away in despair. But she doesn’t. This is a mother with a sick child, so she ignores Jesus’ insulting words and plows on: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Jesus was had. And he knew it. In an instant he changed his mind. He knew he had to reach out. She had found the best part of him. He said, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.”
Jesus lost the argument. The mother did best him. No way around it. He lost the argument, but he gained the mission. From this point forward Jesus never again limited his outreach, his love, his mercy. From this point forward his mission was for all. From this point forward all children were favored.
By losing the argument his mission now included us. Aren’t we glad she won?
His response can still take our breath away: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” (Mark 6: 24f)
The children he is talking about are, of course, the Jews. He is saying that he has come for them. He is saying that he has nothing left for the Gentiles, for this woman, for her daughter.
You would have thought that she might just have turned away in despair. But she doesn’t. This is a mother with a sick child, so she ignores Jesus’ insulting words and plows on: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Jesus was had. And he knew it. In an instant he changed his mind. He knew he had to reach out. She had found the best part of him. He said, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.”
Jesus lost the argument. The mother did best him. No way around it. He lost the argument, but he gained the mission. From this point forward Jesus never again limited his outreach, his love, his mercy. From this point forward his mission was for all. From this point forward all children were favored.
By losing the argument his mission now included us. Aren’t we glad she won?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Jesus Walked on Water - Day 25
Jesus told the disciples that it was time to move on. They had done enough work in one area and other towns needed to hear the message. He went away by himself and told the others to meet him on the other side on the sea in Bethsaida.
It is dark. A storm comes up. They are tired. Jesus—somehow—can see what they are going through and decides to go to them: “When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’” (Mark 6:48-52)
There are so many questions that this story elicits. Why didn’t Jesus travel with them? Why was he going to pass them by? Why didn’t they recognize him? How could Jesus have walked on the water?
I don’t know the answers to these, or other, questions. What I do know is that all of us have been in the boat with those disciples at some time in our lives—maybe some of you are there right now. It is dark. The rowing is hard. Adverse winds are swirling. We have been there.
And, what I also know is that we need to cry out to Jesus. That he will come. That just as he said then, so he will say to us now: “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
So, in whatever boat you might be in, in whatever dark night, in whatever daunting conditions, know and trust that Jesus can still walk on water, can still get to you, can still find you, can still get in the boat with you. Which is, of course, what he did on that night long ago. He got in the boat with them and he took the tiller and he guided them to safe harbor. The one who walked on the water brought them to shore. He did it then. He can do it now.
It is dark. A storm comes up. They are tired. Jesus—somehow—can see what they are going through and decides to go to them: “When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’” (Mark 6:48-52)
There are so many questions that this story elicits. Why didn’t Jesus travel with them? Why was he going to pass them by? Why didn’t they recognize him? How could Jesus have walked on the water?
I don’t know the answers to these, or other, questions. What I do know is that all of us have been in the boat with those disciples at some time in our lives—maybe some of you are there right now. It is dark. The rowing is hard. Adverse winds are swirling. We have been there.
And, what I also know is that we need to cry out to Jesus. That he will come. That just as he said then, so he will say to us now: “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
So, in whatever boat you might be in, in whatever dark night, in whatever daunting conditions, know and trust that Jesus can still walk on water, can still get to you, can still find you, can still get in the boat with you. Which is, of course, what he did on that night long ago. He got in the boat with them and he took the tiller and he guided them to safe harbor. The one who walked on the water brought them to shore. He did it then. He can do it now.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Jesus Took the Twelve on a Retreat - Day 24
The 12 disciples had been watching Jesus do his work. It had been a thrilling time. And then one day (look back to yesterday’s blog) he sent them out to do the work. It was time. They had been watching long enough. They needed to know that following Jesus meant doing what Jesus did. Christianity is not—again—a spectator sport, but a contact sport. For them. For us. On the field. Out doing the work.
Anyway, Jesus sent them out and they eventually came back to Jesus. This is how this re-gathering time unfolded: “The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” (Mark 6: 30-31)
I have tried to visualize and even feel what the coming together again must have felt like to them and to Jesus. They must have been so excited. “Jesus, we heal.” “Jesus, we preached and people’s lives were changed.” “Jesus, we cast out demons in your name.” They must have talked over each other just like a bunch of kids. They were on fire. They wanted to take on the world. They didn’t want to stop and rest; they had more to do; the sky was the limit. And then Jesus—he must have been so proud, so pleased, so grateful. And just when the mission couldn’t have been going better, he pulls them away on retreat. He tells them to stop, to rest, to eat, to be quiet.
I know that I get into trouble when I try to overdo, when I don’t rest, when I am not quiet, when I don’t listen, when I don’t have a retreat with Jesus. My life, the ministry that I am privileged to do, it all suffers when I don’t have retreat time with Jesus. Stress, fatigue, neglect can kill our spiritual life, our faith, our ministry, our connection to God.
So, how about you? Do you need some retreat time with Jesus? Speed shrinks our souls. So does noise. As does our refusal to stop, to be fed, to rest in God, to go on retreat. Maybe it is time you had one with the Retreat Master.
Anyway, Jesus sent them out and they eventually came back to Jesus. This is how this re-gathering time unfolded: “The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” (Mark 6: 30-31)
I have tried to visualize and even feel what the coming together again must have felt like to them and to Jesus. They must have been so excited. “Jesus, we heal.” “Jesus, we preached and people’s lives were changed.” “Jesus, we cast out demons in your name.” They must have talked over each other just like a bunch of kids. They were on fire. They wanted to take on the world. They didn’t want to stop and rest; they had more to do; the sky was the limit. And then Jesus—he must have been so proud, so pleased, so grateful. And just when the mission couldn’t have been going better, he pulls them away on retreat. He tells them to stop, to rest, to eat, to be quiet.
I know that I get into trouble when I try to overdo, when I don’t rest, when I am not quiet, when I don’t listen, when I don’t have a retreat with Jesus. My life, the ministry that I am privileged to do, it all suffers when I don’t have retreat time with Jesus. Stress, fatigue, neglect can kill our spiritual life, our faith, our ministry, our connection to God.
So, how about you? Do you need some retreat time with Jesus? Speed shrinks our souls. So does noise. As does our refusal to stop, to be fed, to rest in God, to go on retreat. Maybe it is time you had one with the Retreat Master.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Jesus Didn't Hog the Work - Day 23
The disciples have been following Jesus for many months now. They have been looking over his shoulder at all that he does. He keeps on telling them to watch very closely. They see the impact that he is having on others. Watching him, being with him, seeing the crowds, witnessing the healings, listening to the teachings—all of this has been the most powerful thing that they have ever been part of.
And then one day Jesus “called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.” (Mark 6:7) In other words, Jesus shared the work. He didn’t hog it. He called his disciples for many things, including his desire to train them to do the work that he was doing. It wasn’t enough that he was doing it. He also wanted them to do it.
Imagine that moment when Jesus turned to them and said, “Now, it is your turn. Go heal. Go exorcize. Go do mighty and glorious things.” Did they panic? Did they demur? Did they want to run away? Did they whine that Jesus was asking too much? I can see them doing all of these things and then some.
I can imagine this because, well, I identify with the disciples. It is easier to watch Jesus do things than to do things yourself. Easier to hear about what Jesus once did than it is to hear and to heed his call to act now in his name. Whine. Duck. Make excuses. Proclaim we need more time or training or faith or resources. Refuse. Run away.
But Jesus wouldn’t let them off the hook. He didn’t then. He doesn’t now.
He is depending upon us to be his Body in the world. He needs us and our faith to do his work. He doesn’t want us to watch him forever. Being a disciple is not a spectator sport. It is a contact sport. So, get out of the stands, off the sidelines and do something. Yes, you. Yes, us. Jesus didn’t hog the work because he needs us on the mission field. He didn’t hog the work because he wanted to share the joy of actually doing work with him. So, don’t cheat yourself. Get after it.
And then one day Jesus “called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.” (Mark 6:7) In other words, Jesus shared the work. He didn’t hog it. He called his disciples for many things, including his desire to train them to do the work that he was doing. It wasn’t enough that he was doing it. He also wanted them to do it.
Imagine that moment when Jesus turned to them and said, “Now, it is your turn. Go heal. Go exorcize. Go do mighty and glorious things.” Did they panic? Did they demur? Did they want to run away? Did they whine that Jesus was asking too much? I can see them doing all of these things and then some.
I can imagine this because, well, I identify with the disciples. It is easier to watch Jesus do things than to do things yourself. Easier to hear about what Jesus once did than it is to hear and to heed his call to act now in his name. Whine. Duck. Make excuses. Proclaim we need more time or training or faith or resources. Refuse. Run away.
But Jesus wouldn’t let them off the hook. He didn’t then. He doesn’t now.
He is depending upon us to be his Body in the world. He needs us and our faith to do his work. He doesn’t want us to watch him forever. Being a disciple is not a spectator sport. It is a contact sport. So, get out of the stands, off the sidelines and do something. Yes, you. Yes, us. Jesus didn’t hog the work because he needs us on the mission field. He didn’t hog the work because he wanted to share the joy of actually doing work with him. So, don’t cheat yourself. Get after it.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Jesus Offended Folks - Day 22
Jesus has been out on the road healing and preaching and exorcizing and doing all manner of good things. News of his success begin to trickle back to his hometown, Nazareth. The folks were probably, at least initially, proud. Yep, that Jesus, well, he is one of ours. Grew up right down the street there. Pretty good boy.
But then he shows up in town. He goes to the synagogue. Those who heard him were astounded. He said more than they were expecting. And then they began to question: “ ‘Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being doing by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’ And they took offense at him.” (Mark 6:2f)
So, why were they offended? Was this simply the old saying “that familiarity breeds contempt?” Or, was what Jesus was saying about God, about them, about the Kingdom, simply too challenging? Did his faith make them so uncomfortable that they turned on him? It's hard to know exactly, but probably it was some combination of factors.
If Jesus rolled into town, if he came into our synagogue, into our homes, into our lives, would we take offense at him? Would we rather he took his ministry on the road, elsewhere? Would we prefer simply to hear or read about Jesus and take some pride that he came from our hometown and that we knew him when?
If we don’t take offense at Jesus, then something may be missing. Remember he said: give me your life, all of it, follow me, surrender. There is nothing easy or nice here at all.
Jesus offended his hometown. Jesus, real Jesus, still does. He offends me all the time. He sometimes asks for too much. He offends us, offends our rationalizations, offends our control, offends our watered-down versions of him, offends our desire to be our own god, in order to wake us up to real faith, real discipleship, real healing, real love.
So, if you do get offended, that is understandable. But get over it. Get a real life with Jesus. A new life. And then, for him, think about being just a wee-bit offensive yourself. True disciples do rankle.
But then he shows up in town. He goes to the synagogue. Those who heard him were astounded. He said more than they were expecting. And then they began to question: “ ‘Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being doing by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’ And they took offense at him.” (Mark 6:2f)
So, why were they offended? Was this simply the old saying “that familiarity breeds contempt?” Or, was what Jesus was saying about God, about them, about the Kingdom, simply too challenging? Did his faith make them so uncomfortable that they turned on him? It's hard to know exactly, but probably it was some combination of factors.
If Jesus rolled into town, if he came into our synagogue, into our homes, into our lives, would we take offense at him? Would we rather he took his ministry on the road, elsewhere? Would we prefer simply to hear or read about Jesus and take some pride that he came from our hometown and that we knew him when?
If we don’t take offense at Jesus, then something may be missing. Remember he said: give me your life, all of it, follow me, surrender. There is nothing easy or nice here at all.
Jesus offended his hometown. Jesus, real Jesus, still does. He offends me all the time. He sometimes asks for too much. He offends us, offends our rationalizations, offends our control, offends our watered-down versions of him, offends our desire to be our own god, in order to wake us up to real faith, real discipleship, real healing, real love.
So, if you do get offended, that is understandable. But get over it. Get a real life with Jesus. A new life. And then, for him, think about being just a wee-bit offensive yourself. True disciples do rankle.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Jesus Didn't Need Big - Day 21
Jesus said that the Kingdom of God is “…like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” (Mark 4: 31-32)
I have been in the professional faith business for a lot of years now. By that I mean that I have been given the great privilege of being with people and their faith and their journey with God. I am, of course, not simply a professional; I am also a disciple just like the rest of you.
In all these years of being invited to come near to folks and their faith, I cannot tell you how often I hear people say that they feel like their faith is wanting or lacking or inadequate. People judge themselves. Judge their faith. Often give themselves failing grades. Sometimes even want to punish themselves for their poor "faith performance."
If I am speaking to any of you then the above parable is just for you. Jesus says that all he needs is a mustard seed of faith. Now, you need to know that a mustard seed was tiny. It wasn’t grand; it was, again, just a speck.
Now, you have that much faith, even on your bad and doubtful and lost days. You have it. And what you have is, as Jesus says, enough.
There is, though, a catch in this scripture. The size of our faith doesn’t matter—Jesus can use whatever size we give him. But we must, again, as he says, “sow” it, that is put it to use, put it into the ground—the ground of giving it away, the ground of serving, the ground of showing up, the ground of being willing to be used for Jesus’ purposes.
So, don’t grade your faith. Whatever size faith you have is good enough. But do, though, sow it and share it. Don’t keep it for yourself. Even great faith that is not sown won’t do much good.
I have been in the professional faith business for a lot of years now. By that I mean that I have been given the great privilege of being with people and their faith and their journey with God. I am, of course, not simply a professional; I am also a disciple just like the rest of you.
In all these years of being invited to come near to folks and their faith, I cannot tell you how often I hear people say that they feel like their faith is wanting or lacking or inadequate. People judge themselves. Judge their faith. Often give themselves failing grades. Sometimes even want to punish themselves for their poor "faith performance."
If I am speaking to any of you then the above parable is just for you. Jesus says that all he needs is a mustard seed of faith. Now, you need to know that a mustard seed was tiny. It wasn’t grand; it was, again, just a speck.
Now, you have that much faith, even on your bad and doubtful and lost days. You have it. And what you have is, as Jesus says, enough.
There is, though, a catch in this scripture. The size of our faith doesn’t matter—Jesus can use whatever size we give him. But we must, again, as he says, “sow” it, that is put it to use, put it into the ground—the ground of giving it away, the ground of serving, the ground of showing up, the ground of being willing to be used for Jesus’ purposes.
So, don’t grade your faith. Whatever size faith you have is good enough. But do, though, sow it and share it. Don’t keep it for yourself. Even great faith that is not sown won’t do much good.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Jesus Likes Bright Lamps - Day 20
Jesus said, “Is a lamp brought in to be put under a bushel basket, or under the bed, and not on the lamp stand?” (Mark 4:21)
When I lived in Maine I used to really struggle with only about 8 hours of light in the winter. SAD—seasonal affective disorder. One of the ways that I countered with winter/darkness/cloudy/doldrums was to turn on every light in the house. Yes, I know that this was not stewardship-friendly, but it did help brighten my mood a bit. During my last year there I had a friend give me a bank of lamps that I sat in front of every morning, and that was very helpful.
There are many shadows out there. There can be much darkness. The creeping doldrums can happen to us all. And that is the reason that Jesus is asking us to a lamp, a bright burning lamp of love and care and faith and decency and kindness, a lamp that we do not hide, do not bury, do not apologize for, do not keep for ourselves.
The world needs our lamp. The church needs our lamp. Our friends and family need our lamp. So, we are called to shine.
But remember: no lamp works unless it is plugged in. Same is true for us. We cannot be the lamp we can be unless we are plugged into our source, our juice, our electricity. And that is Jesus.
How do we plug in? By praying. By asking for it. By reading scripture. By being in worship. By sharing fellowship. None of this is rocket science. None of this should surprise you.
What is surprising is that we know how to get plugged in, but we don’t do it. And then we have no light to share.
So, get plugged in. Get yourself on the lamp stand so that others can see. Beat back all SAD of the soul. For your sake do this. For others as well.
When I lived in Maine I used to really struggle with only about 8 hours of light in the winter. SAD—seasonal affective disorder. One of the ways that I countered with winter/darkness/cloudy/doldrums was to turn on every light in the house. Yes, I know that this was not stewardship-friendly, but it did help brighten my mood a bit. During my last year there I had a friend give me a bank of lamps that I sat in front of every morning, and that was very helpful.
There are many shadows out there. There can be much darkness. The creeping doldrums can happen to us all. And that is the reason that Jesus is asking us to a lamp, a bright burning lamp of love and care and faith and decency and kindness, a lamp that we do not hide, do not bury, do not apologize for, do not keep for ourselves.
The world needs our lamp. The church needs our lamp. Our friends and family need our lamp. So, we are called to shine.
But remember: no lamp works unless it is plugged in. Same is true for us. We cannot be the lamp we can be unless we are plugged into our source, our juice, our electricity. And that is Jesus.
How do we plug in? By praying. By asking for it. By reading scripture. By being in worship. By sharing fellowship. None of this is rocket science. None of this should surprise you.
What is surprising is that we know how to get plugged in, but we don’t do it. And then we have no light to share.
So, get plugged in. Get yourself on the lamp stand so that others can see. Beat back all SAD of the soul. For your sake do this. For others as well.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Jesus Burst Old Wine Skins - Day 19
"...no one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost, and so are the skins; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.” (Mark 2: 22)
Jesus says these words to John the Baptist’s disciples and the Pharisees who are fasting while Jesus and his new friends are not. The former crowd looks kind of gloomy, whereas Jesus and his gathering crowd look like they are having a pretty good time. While John liked to scold folks, Jesus beckoned to them. While the Pharisees thought that one had to follow hundreds of rules to get to God, Jesus just said follow him. He was bringing new wine and John’s disciples and the Pharisees didn’t quite know how to hear it. His new wine was bursting their wineskins. His new message was bursting their minds. His new path was bursting their preconceived notions and theologies about God.
At some point, no, really at many points, in our life with Jesus we need to make a decision about what is most important—either his new wine or our old wineskins. Now, like the rest of you, I know what it is like to get comfortable with our wineskins, our paths, our ways, our thinking, our rituals, our rules, our, well, you name it. But Jesus is always about new wine, the new path, the new adventure, the new person to meet, the new mission to undertake, the new vision to live into. I am not saying the old is bad. Nor am I saying that old things cannot be made contemporary—they can. But his warning is clear to us. Don’t get, like John’s disciples and the Pharisees, so enamored and so settled on our old wineskins that we cannot hear and live into and drink deep upon his new wine.
Jesus wants us to make new wineskins that can hold the new wine of his love. He wants us to drink deeply. He invites us to the celebration with him. So, bring your new wineskin.
Jesus says these words to John the Baptist’s disciples and the Pharisees who are fasting while Jesus and his new friends are not. The former crowd looks kind of gloomy, whereas Jesus and his gathering crowd look like they are having a pretty good time. While John liked to scold folks, Jesus beckoned to them. While the Pharisees thought that one had to follow hundreds of rules to get to God, Jesus just said follow him. He was bringing new wine and John’s disciples and the Pharisees didn’t quite know how to hear it. His new wine was bursting their wineskins. His new message was bursting their minds. His new path was bursting their preconceived notions and theologies about God.
At some point, no, really at many points, in our life with Jesus we need to make a decision about what is most important—either his new wine or our old wineskins. Now, like the rest of you, I know what it is like to get comfortable with our wineskins, our paths, our ways, our thinking, our rituals, our rules, our, well, you name it. But Jesus is always about new wine, the new path, the new adventure, the new person to meet, the new mission to undertake, the new vision to live into. I am not saying the old is bad. Nor am I saying that old things cannot be made contemporary—they can. But his warning is clear to us. Don’t get, like John’s disciples and the Pharisees, so enamored and so settled on our old wineskins that we cannot hear and live into and drink deep upon his new wine.
Jesus wants us to make new wineskins that can hold the new wine of his love. He wants us to drink deeply. He invites us to the celebration with him. So, bring your new wineskin.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Jesus Healed the Paralytic - Day 18
I am now in Mark 2, where it says, “Then some people came, bringing to [Jesus] a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down that mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’” (2: 3-5)
For years when I read this scripture I always thought it was remarkable that Jesus healed the man’s sins and that he ended up healing his paralysis. Jesus the forgiver. Jesus the healer.
It wasn’t until looking at this story for many years that a phrase just jumped off the page for me: “… when Jesus saw their faith,” that is, the faith of the four friends who brought the man, he then spoke and acted.
This phrase caused me to wonder how our faith may have caused, or not, Jesus to act in someone else’s life. I find this just remarkable, and just very daunting at that same time.
This paralyzed man had four incredible friends. They wanted to bring their friend to Jesus for healing. When they discovered that they couldn’t get near enough to Jesus, they dismantled the roof of the building where Jesus was speaking. That is real love for their friend. That is real faith in Jesus.
Now, how about us? Are we willing to bring any of our infirm friends (and who among us is not in some way?) to Jesus? I don’t think we need to worry about taking off the roof of Palmer (and I am not suggesting that this is the only place we can bring someone to Jesus, but it is, without a doubt, one very good place to do so), but are we willing to invite one of our friends, drive with them, open the front door for them, sit with them, and help them through our liturgy?
Just imagine where that poor paralyzed man would have been without his four friends, and their faith. Just imagine what a difference we could make to our friends if we acted and believed like they did.
For years when I read this scripture I always thought it was remarkable that Jesus healed the man’s sins and that he ended up healing his paralysis. Jesus the forgiver. Jesus the healer.
It wasn’t until looking at this story for many years that a phrase just jumped off the page for me: “… when Jesus saw their faith,” that is, the faith of the four friends who brought the man, he then spoke and acted.
This phrase caused me to wonder how our faith may have caused, or not, Jesus to act in someone else’s life. I find this just remarkable, and just very daunting at that same time.
This paralyzed man had four incredible friends. They wanted to bring their friend to Jesus for healing. When they discovered that they couldn’t get near enough to Jesus, they dismantled the roof of the building where Jesus was speaking. That is real love for their friend. That is real faith in Jesus.
Now, how about us? Are we willing to bring any of our infirm friends (and who among us is not in some way?) to Jesus? I don’t think we need to worry about taking off the roof of Palmer (and I am not suggesting that this is the only place we can bring someone to Jesus, but it is, without a doubt, one very good place to do so), but are we willing to invite one of our friends, drive with them, open the front door for them, sit with them, and help them through our liturgy?
Just imagine where that poor paralyzed man would have been without his four friends, and their faith. Just imagine what a difference we could make to our friends if we acted and believed like they did.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Jesus said Travel Light - Day 17
I am guessing that many of you when you travel try to get as much in your suitcase as possible. You just don’t know what you might need to wear when you arrive at your destination and you wouldn’t want to be caught with the wrong clothes or not enough clothes. You learn some tricks along the way about taking more for your trip—you roll your clothes, you put things in your carry-on bag, you cram into every nook and cranny.
The last time I was at the airport the person in front of me had too much and had to either unload or pay a fee. It was interesting for me to watch them work through their dilemma.
When Jesus sent out the twelve disciples he said, “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.” (Luke 9:3)
Not even an extra tunic. Now, that is pretty lean. But what was Jesus saying to them? Travel light and trust that with me and in me and through me you will have all you need. Don’t worry so much about your outward appearances. No, just get straight, strong, settled with me, and I will clothe you with all you need. And besides that, your outward appearances are not what matter. It is the disposition of your heart. So, clothe your hearts with love and peace and joy and kindness and strength.
So, how about you and me? We are trying to check in at the counter, saying we want to follow Jesus and to go out and be on a mission with and for him. I am wondering if some of us need to unpack some baggage in order to do this. I know that I do. Interesting dilemma, isn’t?
What might you need to unpack, to let go of, to give away, to drop, in order to travel light with Jesus?
The last time I was at the airport the person in front of me had too much and had to either unload or pay a fee. It was interesting for me to watch them work through their dilemma.
When Jesus sent out the twelve disciples he said, “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.” (Luke 9:3)
Not even an extra tunic. Now, that is pretty lean. But what was Jesus saying to them? Travel light and trust that with me and in me and through me you will have all you need. Don’t worry so much about your outward appearances. No, just get straight, strong, settled with me, and I will clothe you with all you need. And besides that, your outward appearances are not what matter. It is the disposition of your heart. So, clothe your hearts with love and peace and joy and kindness and strength.
So, how about you and me? We are trying to check in at the counter, saying we want to follow Jesus and to go out and be on a mission with and for him. I am wondering if some of us need to unpack some baggage in order to do this. I know that I do. Interesting dilemma, isn’t?
What might you need to unpack, to let go of, to give away, to drop, in order to travel light with Jesus?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Jesus Played - Day 16
The disciples were a serious bunch. They were worried about how they could help Jesus. They were concerned about who got access to Jesus and who didn’t. The religious authorities that were following Jesus were also very serious. They were anxious about what Jesus was going to say next and do next. They were concerned about what trouble he was going to cause or what rule he was going to break.
One day some children (and children were, unlike today, not held in high esteem) get through all the serious folks and end up in Jesus’ lap. The disciples try to scold the unruly children and their irresponsible parents, but Jesus will have none of it. Instead, he says, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Mk. 10: 13f)
What would it mean for you to become child-like (not childish) and get into Jesus’ lap? Do you feel self-conscious? Inhibited? Like you don’t belong? Can you become that child or are you more inclined to act like the bossy and clueless disciples, or like the judgmental and tense Pharisees—all those overly serious folks?
I think that one quality that Jesus wants us to emulate from children is their trust. Maybe another quality is their ability to play. I know that many adults lose both qualities—the quality of trust, the quality of play.
It is obvious that Jesus loved children—they gravitated to him. He loved them all—red and yellow, black and white, they were all precious in his sight.
If Jesus played with children, maybe he is calling you to be a bit more playful in your life. If so, what would that look like? When was the last time you really laughed? Really had fun? Really cut-up? Do you even give yourself permission to enjoy your life?
There was in the midst of very serious things going on around Jesus all the time, this playful aspect to him. As his disciples, what might this look like for us? He was clear: We must become like children ourselves to receive the Kingdom.
One day some children (and children were, unlike today, not held in high esteem) get through all the serious folks and end up in Jesus’ lap. The disciples try to scold the unruly children and their irresponsible parents, but Jesus will have none of it. Instead, he says, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Mk. 10: 13f)
What would it mean for you to become child-like (not childish) and get into Jesus’ lap? Do you feel self-conscious? Inhibited? Like you don’t belong? Can you become that child or are you more inclined to act like the bossy and clueless disciples, or like the judgmental and tense Pharisees—all those overly serious folks?
I think that one quality that Jesus wants us to emulate from children is their trust. Maybe another quality is their ability to play. I know that many adults lose both qualities—the quality of trust, the quality of play.
It is obvious that Jesus loved children—they gravitated to him. He loved them all—red and yellow, black and white, they were all precious in his sight.
If Jesus played with children, maybe he is calling you to be a bit more playful in your life. If so, what would that look like? When was the last time you really laughed? Really had fun? Really cut-up? Do you even give yourself permission to enjoy your life?
There was in the midst of very serious things going on around Jesus all the time, this playful aspect to him. As his disciples, what might this look like for us? He was clear: We must become like children ourselves to receive the Kingdom.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Jesus Wasn't Fair - Day 15
You can probably remember saying as a child, “That’s not fair.” Your friend got to do something or go somewhere or see something and you didn’t, so you would purse up your face, look and feel indignant, and say, “That’s not fair.” If you cannot remember doing this as a child, just ask your mom or dad if you did. And if you are a mom or dad right now, then you know what I am talking about.
It might sound strange to you, but Jesus wasn’t fair. A case in point is found in Matthew 20: 1-16. A landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. He then goes out several times during the day, even until the last hour, to hire more workers. At the end of the day all of the workers, whether they worked one hour or 12 hours, get the same pay. The workers hired earlier in the day have a fit. It just isn’t fair that they are paid what those who worked only one hour get paid. They are, of course, right. What the owner does isn’t fair.
But that is the point. God is not fair. More to the point. We don’t want God to be fair. If God were fair, what would we deserve? What would we have earned? Can you now see the point? We don’t want a fair God; we want a merciful God, a loving God, a forgiving God, a generous God.
Fairness is for those who somehow think that they have earned or deserved or merited God’s favor. I do hope—and pray—that this doesn’t include you. Grace is given as a gift. It can only be accepted as one.
The owner of the vineyard gave to each worker what he needed to live. The early workers were resentful about the owner’s generosity. Let us not be like them. We have more-than-a-fair God. Thanks be to God. As his people and as the disciples of Jesus, let us be more than fair ourselves.
It might sound strange to you, but Jesus wasn’t fair. A case in point is found in Matthew 20: 1-16. A landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. He then goes out several times during the day, even until the last hour, to hire more workers. At the end of the day all of the workers, whether they worked one hour or 12 hours, get the same pay. The workers hired earlier in the day have a fit. It just isn’t fair that they are paid what those who worked only one hour get paid. They are, of course, right. What the owner does isn’t fair.
But that is the point. God is not fair. More to the point. We don’t want God to be fair. If God were fair, what would we deserve? What would we have earned? Can you now see the point? We don’t want a fair God; we want a merciful God, a loving God, a forgiving God, a generous God.
Fairness is for those who somehow think that they have earned or deserved or merited God’s favor. I do hope—and pray—that this doesn’t include you. Grace is given as a gift. It can only be accepted as one.
The owner of the vineyard gave to each worker what he needed to live. The early workers were resentful about the owner’s generosity. Let us not be like them. We have more-than-a-fair God. Thanks be to God. As his people and as the disciples of Jesus, let us be more than fair ourselves.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Jesus Calls Witnesses - Day 14
Jesus has died. Jesus has been resurrected. He is soon to go. But before he leaves the disciples he gives them some instructions about how he wants them to live and what he wants them to do.
He says, “… you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1: 8)
Jesus paints a series of concentric circles here, starting small and then emanating out to encompass the whole world. He wants witnesses, those who will testify on his behalf, those who will share the good news of his love and mercy, those who will proclaim that God’s power in and through him is mighty to save and forgive and empower. He doesn’t want them to keep this good news to themselves. He wants them to share it through their words and deeds and lives.
Nothing has changed since that day. Jesus still wants witnesses. He wants us to go to our Jerusalems and Judeas and Samarias and to whatever ends of the earth that we live or travel to share good news.
Do we? Do we witness to him ever? If so, thank God. If not, why? What are we afraid of, concerned about? Why are so many of us shut down? We have the best news that there is, how can we not share it?
Being a Christian is not just about what we believe; it is also about what we do. We call Jesus “Lord,” but is he? Do we allow him to command us? Do we follow his directives? Imagine a coach sending in a play to a team in the huddle and the team deciding that they didn’t like the play. What would happen to the team? What would happen to the game?
If you call yourself a Christian, then you are, in effect, calling Jesus your Coach and Lord and Savior and Boss. Jesus says, “Witness.” What are you waiting for? There are people in your life who need the word of hope and love that you can share. So, just do it. With love and tenderness, of course; but also with strength and conviction, always.
He says, “… you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1: 8)
Jesus paints a series of concentric circles here, starting small and then emanating out to encompass the whole world. He wants witnesses, those who will testify on his behalf, those who will share the good news of his love and mercy, those who will proclaim that God’s power in and through him is mighty to save and forgive and empower. He doesn’t want them to keep this good news to themselves. He wants them to share it through their words and deeds and lives.
Nothing has changed since that day. Jesus still wants witnesses. He wants us to go to our Jerusalems and Judeas and Samarias and to whatever ends of the earth that we live or travel to share good news.
Do we? Do we witness to him ever? If so, thank God. If not, why? What are we afraid of, concerned about? Why are so many of us shut down? We have the best news that there is, how can we not share it?
Being a Christian is not just about what we believe; it is also about what we do. We call Jesus “Lord,” but is he? Do we allow him to command us? Do we follow his directives? Imagine a coach sending in a play to a team in the huddle and the team deciding that they didn’t like the play. What would happen to the team? What would happen to the game?
If you call yourself a Christian, then you are, in effect, calling Jesus your Coach and Lord and Savior and Boss. Jesus says, “Witness.” What are you waiting for? There are people in your life who need the word of hope and love that you can share. So, just do it. With love and tenderness, of course; but also with strength and conviction, always.
Jesus Kept the Lost and Found Box - Day 13
Where I went to grade school there was a “lost and found” box. It was always in the cloakroom where we hung our coats. If you forgot your hat or mittens or muffler on any given day, the teacher would say, "Go to the box and get something." You didn’t really want to do that because much of the stuff had been in that box for a long time. You just never knew what someone else might have done on that stuff. It looked cruddy and crummy and everyone could tell you were wearing someone else’s lost, discarded stuff.
Jesus was going into Jericho one day and there he spots a little man in a tree. His name is Zacchaeus. Jesus can tell that this man was desperate to see him, so Jesus called him down and then invited himself over to Zacchaeus’ home. Now those who saw this interaction grumbled because Zacchaeus was a sinner and a despised tax collector.
On the way to his home Zacchaeus promised to give to the poor and to pay back anyone that he has defrauded. Seeing Jesus and being with Jesus has changed his whole life.
At the end of the exchange Jesus says, “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” (Luke 19: 10) Zacchaeus was lost, then found. Jesus is in the Lost and Found business. I know this is true for me. I don’t even want to think about how lost I would be without Jesus. Even with Jesus I sometimes get lost. But then I get found again.
How might you be lost? If you think you can find your own life and meaning and purpose, then you don’t need Jesus much. I would say that if you think any of the above, then you must be really lost. The really lost folks are those who don’t think that they are.
The Christian life is about a lost and found adventure with Jesus. Once found by Jesus he sends us out to find other lost folks. Unlike those snotty objects in the bottom of the lost and found box, there is no child of God—not matter how snotty or dirty or nasty or torn—that Jesus doesn’t want. Once found he can and does clean us up.
Are you willing to join Jesus in the Lost and Found business?
Jesus was going into Jericho one day and there he spots a little man in a tree. His name is Zacchaeus. Jesus can tell that this man was desperate to see him, so Jesus called him down and then invited himself over to Zacchaeus’ home. Now those who saw this interaction grumbled because Zacchaeus was a sinner and a despised tax collector.
On the way to his home Zacchaeus promised to give to the poor and to pay back anyone that he has defrauded. Seeing Jesus and being with Jesus has changed his whole life.
At the end of the exchange Jesus says, “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” (Luke 19: 10) Zacchaeus was lost, then found. Jesus is in the Lost and Found business. I know this is true for me. I don’t even want to think about how lost I would be without Jesus. Even with Jesus I sometimes get lost. But then I get found again.
How might you be lost? If you think you can find your own life and meaning and purpose, then you don’t need Jesus much. I would say that if you think any of the above, then you must be really lost. The really lost folks are those who don’t think that they are.
The Christian life is about a lost and found adventure with Jesus. Once found by Jesus he sends us out to find other lost folks. Unlike those snotty objects in the bottom of the lost and found box, there is no child of God—not matter how snotty or dirty or nasty or torn—that Jesus doesn’t want. Once found he can and does clean us up.
Are you willing to join Jesus in the Lost and Found business?
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Jesus Played in the Dirt - Day 12
The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman (where was the man?) who was caught in adultery. They want to know what Jesus thinks they ought to do. It is a trap. If Jesus says, “stone her,” he will look just like them and he will be at risk of losing the popular support of the crowd. If Jesus says, “don’t stone her,” he will look like he doesn’t care for the law of Moses. It is one of the “darned if you do and darned if you don’t” kind of situations. No matter what he does, the scribes and Pharisees think that they have him trapped.
So, what does Jesus do? He says, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8: 7) He doesn’t say stone her or don’t stone her. He says you can stone her if you yourself are without sin. He didn’t play into the Pharisees' trap or into their hands. Instead, he held up a mirror to them. Look at yourselves. Are any of you without sin?
It says in scripture that before Jesus responded to the challenging trap of the religious authorities that he bent down and wrote with “his finger on the ground.” I have always wondered what words he drew or what image he wrote. It is such an interesting and arresting moment.
I think that what he wrote on the ground that day was a big circle. Not a dividing line between who is good and who is bad—this is what the Pharisees liked to draw; no, Jesus on that day, I believe, drew a great big circle. Who are the sinners? Circle—all of us. Who is in need of grace? Circle—all of us.
What is our business? Draw circles, not lines, not boundaries, not divisions. But before we can draw circles we need to drop our rocks. Jesus doesn’t like rock throwing at any child of God, including ourselves. He likes circles. So, what are you going to do to draw one yourself?
So, what does Jesus do? He says, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8: 7) He doesn’t say stone her or don’t stone her. He says you can stone her if you yourself are without sin. He didn’t play into the Pharisees' trap or into their hands. Instead, he held up a mirror to them. Look at yourselves. Are any of you without sin?
It says in scripture that before Jesus responded to the challenging trap of the religious authorities that he bent down and wrote with “his finger on the ground.” I have always wondered what words he drew or what image he wrote. It is such an interesting and arresting moment.
I think that what he wrote on the ground that day was a big circle. Not a dividing line between who is good and who is bad—this is what the Pharisees liked to draw; no, Jesus on that day, I believe, drew a great big circle. Who are the sinners? Circle—all of us. Who is in need of grace? Circle—all of us.
What is our business? Draw circles, not lines, not boundaries, not divisions. But before we can draw circles we need to drop our rocks. Jesus doesn’t like rock throwing at any child of God, including ourselves. He likes circles. So, what are you going to do to draw one yourself?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Jesus Liked Today
Word had begun to drift back to his hometown that Jesus was out in the world doing some pretty spectacular things. He showed up in the synagogue and they asked him to read. He thumbed through the scriptures to a passage from Isaiah and he read: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (see Isaiah 61 and Luke 4:16f).
The hometown crowd was so pleased with Jesus. He read so well, with such presence and poise. But then just when they had settled back into their pews Jesus did a really outlandish thing. He said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” At first the people were still thinking kind thoughts and saying nice words, but then the word “today” began to sink in. And then they were not so pleased. In fact, they became furious at him. Who are you to say that today all this will happen? Just who do you think you are, Jesus?
Faith from yesterday is easier than faith today. Faith for someday is, again, easier than faith right here, right now. When faith must be translated into today, as Jesus asks and expects and gives, it can challenge how we want to live our lives.
So, just where is your faith? Is it looking back to the “good old days” or to today? Are you planning on doing some ministry, some mission work for Jesus someday when you get everything else in your life worked out, or now?
Jesus wasn’t very popular when he said “today.” How are you feeling right now about Jesus when he says “today” for your faith and discipleship and life with him? What—today—are you going to do with Jesus, through Jesus, for Jesus?
The hometown crowd was so pleased with Jesus. He read so well, with such presence and poise. But then just when they had settled back into their pews Jesus did a really outlandish thing. He said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” At first the people were still thinking kind thoughts and saying nice words, but then the word “today” began to sink in. And then they were not so pleased. In fact, they became furious at him. Who are you to say that today all this will happen? Just who do you think you are, Jesus?
Faith from yesterday is easier than faith today. Faith for someday is, again, easier than faith right here, right now. When faith must be translated into today, as Jesus asks and expects and gives, it can challenge how we want to live our lives.
So, just where is your faith? Is it looking back to the “good old days” or to today? Are you planning on doing some ministry, some mission work for Jesus someday when you get everything else in your life worked out, or now?
Jesus wasn’t very popular when he said “today.” How are you feeling right now about Jesus when he says “today” for your faith and discipleship and life with him? What—today—are you going to do with Jesus, through Jesus, for Jesus?
Friday, March 6, 2009
Jesus Liked to Camp - Day 10
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of the father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)
The Word of God that created the whole universe (see the beginning of Genesis chapter one) has now, in Jesus, become flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone, blood of our blood.
The word “lived” among us can also be translated “tabernacled” with us or even “camped” with us. The Word of God became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.
Have you ever been on a camping trip? They are, well, intimate affairs. You share food, chores, your mornings and evenings and quirks and tics. You get to know people very well.
That is what Jesus wants with us. He wants to join us on the “camping trip” of our life. He doesn’t want us to visit him at church. He wants to join in every aspect of our lives. He doesn’t want us in our Sunday best. He wants our Sunday best and our Monday worst and our Tuesday lost and our Wednesday worried and our Thursday angry and our Friday fearful and our Saturday, finally, happy.
Jesus doesn’t just want to visit our lives as a guest. He doesn’t want the guest bedroom with the matching sheets and special soaps. He wants to do the laundry and dishes with us. You might think that Jesus is a little greedy, but he wants it all—the good and the not-so-good, the nice and the not-so-nice. Sort of like a camping trip. He wants to share it all, and he wants it all to be an adventure.
So, “happy camper,” will you invite Jesus onto the trails with you, at the campfire with you, into your tent with you?
The Word of God that created the whole universe (see the beginning of Genesis chapter one) has now, in Jesus, become flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone, blood of our blood.
The word “lived” among us can also be translated “tabernacled” with us or even “camped” with us. The Word of God became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.
Have you ever been on a camping trip? They are, well, intimate affairs. You share food, chores, your mornings and evenings and quirks and tics. You get to know people very well.
That is what Jesus wants with us. He wants to join us on the “camping trip” of our life. He doesn’t want us to visit him at church. He wants to join in every aspect of our lives. He doesn’t want us in our Sunday best. He wants our Sunday best and our Monday worst and our Tuesday lost and our Wednesday worried and our Thursday angry and our Friday fearful and our Saturday, finally, happy.
Jesus doesn’t just want to visit our lives as a guest. He doesn’t want the guest bedroom with the matching sheets and special soaps. He wants to do the laundry and dishes with us. You might think that Jesus is a little greedy, but he wants it all—the good and the not-so-good, the nice and the not-so-nice. Sort of like a camping trip. He wants to share it all, and he wants it all to be an adventure.
So, “happy camper,” will you invite Jesus onto the trails with you, at the campfire with you, into your tent with you?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Jesus Partied - Day 9
We are at the wedding of Cana of Galilee (see John 2: 1-11). The wine had given out. The party was about the crash. It would have been a great embarrassment to the bride’s family. It would have been a terrible way to begin a new life.
Jesus asked that some jars be filled with water and then they were filled with wine, good wine, not just water.
Jesus partied. Throughout his ministry he is in constant trouble with the religious folks who were that century’s version of the Puritans. Puritans want to be pure. They don’t want to be with folks who are different from them, folks who are “dirty,” folks who are lost or sinful or bad or…well, you name it.
Jesus got in trouble because he said that he came for just such folks. He came for the lost and sinful and grubby. He came for those who knew that they could never be “pure” enough to deserve God’s love. Jesus not only accepted these folks under condescending sufferance, he loved them, went after them, touched them, and partied with them. He wasn’t a stiff. He knew how to have a good time. He had a good time with such folks because he felt like you needed to have a party every time one such person was found and brought back home to God.
Do we remember that every time we gather together is a celebration, a party? Do we remember to have a good time and not be a stiff? Do our faces reflect the great joy of being at the party of life and hope and grace and forgiveness with Jesus? Are we glad to see each other and are we doing all we can to enlarge the party so that all of God’s children will know that the best time to be had is with us? Jesus partied. Let us do the same.
Jesus asked that some jars be filled with water and then they were filled with wine, good wine, not just water.
Jesus partied. Throughout his ministry he is in constant trouble with the religious folks who were that century’s version of the Puritans. Puritans want to be pure. They don’t want to be with folks who are different from them, folks who are “dirty,” folks who are lost or sinful or bad or…well, you name it.
Jesus got in trouble because he said that he came for just such folks. He came for the lost and sinful and grubby. He came for those who knew that they could never be “pure” enough to deserve God’s love. Jesus not only accepted these folks under condescending sufferance, he loved them, went after them, touched them, and partied with them. He wasn’t a stiff. He knew how to have a good time. He had a good time with such folks because he felt like you needed to have a party every time one such person was found and brought back home to God.
Do we remember that every time we gather together is a celebration, a party? Do we remember to have a good time and not be a stiff? Do our faces reflect the great joy of being at the party of life and hope and grace and forgiveness with Jesus? Are we glad to see each other and are we doing all we can to enlarge the party so that all of God’s children will know that the best time to be had is with us? Jesus partied. Let us do the same.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Jesus Called Ordinary People - Day 8
“As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” (Mark 1:16-17)
Peter and Andrew, John and James (they were also on the beach that same day and Jesus also called them to follow and to fish) were ordinary guys. They had no degrees. They had not done—as far as we know—any extraordinary things. There was—again, as far as we know—nothing special about them. They were in a word: ordinary.
As we follow Jesus and his companions in the gospel stories we find out just how unremarkable they were. Mark in his gospel seems to go out of his way to point out how foolish and fickle and weak and vain and silly they all were.
I am guessing that Mark was telling us the truth about the disciples, but I am also going to guess that he was trying to make a point to all disciples of future generations. If Jesus could choose them, then he can also choose you. If they were able to change the world—and change the world they did—then Jesus can use you to do great and wonderful things.
In and of themselves, Peter, Andrew, James, and John were ordinary. But as soon as they began to follow Jesus they began to become more-than-ordinary. In and of ourselves we are flawed and fallen and mixed-up and convoluted and, well, just human. But in following Jesus we are changed by Jesus. And in being changed by Jesus, he then wants us to be his fisherpersons for others. Jesus is clear: once caught, go catch.
I sometimes hear people say that they aren’t good enough to be with Jesus or to work with Jesus or to do anything for Jesus. That just isn’t the truth. Jesus once called ordinary people to do extraordinary things. His call has never stopped. He wants to catch us and call us and send us in order that all people will be part of God’s great catch. The first four disciples may have seemed ordinary to the world. But to God they were his precious children. Just like we are. Just like all people are.
Peter and Andrew, John and James (they were also on the beach that same day and Jesus also called them to follow and to fish) were ordinary guys. They had no degrees. They had not done—as far as we know—any extraordinary things. There was—again, as far as we know—nothing special about them. They were in a word: ordinary.
As we follow Jesus and his companions in the gospel stories we find out just how unremarkable they were. Mark in his gospel seems to go out of his way to point out how foolish and fickle and weak and vain and silly they all were.
I am guessing that Mark was telling us the truth about the disciples, but I am also going to guess that he was trying to make a point to all disciples of future generations. If Jesus could choose them, then he can also choose you. If they were able to change the world—and change the world they did—then Jesus can use you to do great and wonderful things.
In and of themselves, Peter, Andrew, James, and John were ordinary. But as soon as they began to follow Jesus they began to become more-than-ordinary. In and of ourselves we are flawed and fallen and mixed-up and convoluted and, well, just human. But in following Jesus we are changed by Jesus. And in being changed by Jesus, he then wants us to be his fisherpersons for others. Jesus is clear: once caught, go catch.
I sometimes hear people say that they aren’t good enough to be with Jesus or to work with Jesus or to do anything for Jesus. That just isn’t the truth. Jesus once called ordinary people to do extraordinary things. His call has never stopped. He wants to catch us and call us and send us in order that all people will be part of God’s great catch. The first four disciples may have seemed ordinary to the world. But to God they were his precious children. Just like we are. Just like all people are.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Jesus Prayed - Day 7
“In the morning, while it was still very dark, [Jesus] got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” (Mark 1:35)
Jesus prayed because he needed to pray. He needed to check in with God. He needed to listen to God. He needed to pour out his heart to God. He needed to ask for God’s help and courage and direction and peace. He got up early to pray. He prayed both all by himself and with others. He often left a busy ministry schedule to pray. He first got straight with God before he tried to work for God, heal for God, preach for God.
If Jesus needed to pray, how can we think that we don’t need to? How can we think or act like we are too busy to pray? We are too busy not to pray. Maybe if we prayed we wouldn’t feel so frantic, so frazzled, so fragmented.
We need to pray in order to remember who we are, whose we are, and what we need to be about. We need to pray to adore God, to give thanks to God, to confess to God.
Many of us don’t pray because we feel inadequate about praying. We feel like everyone else must do it better than we do it. We read books about prayer looking for some method or answer. We try praying for awhile, but then give up. We wonder if God is listening. We question whether he cares. We rattle off our petitions or intercessions and nothing seems to change.
So, what do I want to say about all this? Just do it. Just pray. Don’t read about it endlessly. Don’t fret about it. Don’t question about how to do it. Just sit and ask God to be with you. Listen. Cry. Give praise. Fall asleep—yes, sometimes that will happen—in God’s arms. Confess. Yell. Write letter to Jesus (this is one of the ways I pray). Read scripture—start with a gospel, and do it slowly, don’t rush. Do it on your knees or in your favorite chair or lying in your backyard. How you do it or where you do it doesn’t matter. Doing it matters enormously. Don’t listen to all those voices in your head that make you feel inadequate.
If Jesus needed to pray, so do you. So, join Jesus and pray. And remember that you are never praying alone.
Jesus prayed because he needed to pray. He needed to check in with God. He needed to listen to God. He needed to pour out his heart to God. He needed to ask for God’s help and courage and direction and peace. He got up early to pray. He prayed both all by himself and with others. He often left a busy ministry schedule to pray. He first got straight with God before he tried to work for God, heal for God, preach for God.
If Jesus needed to pray, how can we think that we don’t need to? How can we think or act like we are too busy to pray? We are too busy not to pray. Maybe if we prayed we wouldn’t feel so frantic, so frazzled, so fragmented.
We need to pray in order to remember who we are, whose we are, and what we need to be about. We need to pray to adore God, to give thanks to God, to confess to God.
Many of us don’t pray because we feel inadequate about praying. We feel like everyone else must do it better than we do it. We read books about prayer looking for some method or answer. We try praying for awhile, but then give up. We wonder if God is listening. We question whether he cares. We rattle off our petitions or intercessions and nothing seems to change.
So, what do I want to say about all this? Just do it. Just pray. Don’t read about it endlessly. Don’t fret about it. Don’t question about how to do it. Just sit and ask God to be with you. Listen. Cry. Give praise. Fall asleep—yes, sometimes that will happen—in God’s arms. Confess. Yell. Write letter to Jesus (this is one of the ways I pray). Read scripture—start with a gospel, and do it slowly, don’t rush. Do it on your knees or in your favorite chair or lying in your backyard. How you do it or where you do it doesn’t matter. Doing it matters enormously. Don’t listen to all those voices in your head that make you feel inadequate.
If Jesus needed to pray, so do you. So, join Jesus and pray. And remember that you are never praying alone.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Jesus Healed - Day 6
“Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told [Jesus] about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.” (Mark 1:30-31)
I am writing these words on Ash Wednesday—yes, I know that is a bit OCD, but there it is. I knew I was going to be writing about Jesus the Healer and I was eager to get started. I do most of my writing and thinking and praying and getting-ready-to-preach right in church. I ask for God to join me, I remember all of you, I get on my knees, and wait.
As I am going into church to write about Jesus the Healer and I find a woman with cancer and her daughter. This woman is one of our guests from away, and her daughter had just flown into from the Midwest. She was about ready to start a very heavy round of chemotherapy tomorrow.
It made sense that I put down all of my notes, my bible, my computer, my thoughts about Jesus being the healer and just be in the moment with this child of God who is afraid, who needs healing, who wants God’s presence.
After talking with this woman and her daughter I decided to give them all the Jesus that I could, so we had ashes together, unction together, and communion together. There were tears and laughter and quiet and faith, and Jesus was there.
We all come to Jesus for healing. Physical healing, emotional healing, relational healing, vocational healing—we all have some disease in our lives.
Jesus healed long ago, and Jesus heals today. Now, I know that his healing power and why it sometimes seems to work and sometimes doesn’t—at least not how we would like it to—is a great mystery. I have spent many days with my head on the steering wheel of my car after visiting with someone in the hospital asking, pleading for God’s power to utterly, totally, completely, and physically heal someone.
I don’t know what is going to happen with the woman I just anointed for healing in church. What I do know is that Jesus’ healing power and presence and peace were all over her and all over our time together. She left here not downtrodden, but strong; not afraid, but courageous; not discouraged, but trusting.
How might you need Jesus’ healing hands in your life?
I am writing these words on Ash Wednesday—yes, I know that is a bit OCD, but there it is. I knew I was going to be writing about Jesus the Healer and I was eager to get started. I do most of my writing and thinking and praying and getting-ready-to-preach right in church. I ask for God to join me, I remember all of you, I get on my knees, and wait.
As I am going into church to write about Jesus the Healer and I find a woman with cancer and her daughter. This woman is one of our guests from away, and her daughter had just flown into from the Midwest. She was about ready to start a very heavy round of chemotherapy tomorrow.
It made sense that I put down all of my notes, my bible, my computer, my thoughts about Jesus being the healer and just be in the moment with this child of God who is afraid, who needs healing, who wants God’s presence.
After talking with this woman and her daughter I decided to give them all the Jesus that I could, so we had ashes together, unction together, and communion together. There were tears and laughter and quiet and faith, and Jesus was there.
We all come to Jesus for healing. Physical healing, emotional healing, relational healing, vocational healing—we all have some disease in our lives.
Jesus healed long ago, and Jesus heals today. Now, I know that his healing power and why it sometimes seems to work and sometimes doesn’t—at least not how we would like it to—is a great mystery. I have spent many days with my head on the steering wheel of my car after visiting with someone in the hospital asking, pleading for God’s power to utterly, totally, completely, and physically heal someone.
I don’t know what is going to happen with the woman I just anointed for healing in church. What I do know is that Jesus’ healing power and presence and peace were all over her and all over our time together. She left here not downtrodden, but strong; not afraid, but courageous; not discouraged, but trusting.
How might you need Jesus’ healing hands in your life?
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Jesus Exorcized - Day 5
“Just then there was in the synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’ But Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him.’” (Mark 1:23-25)
Jesus exorcized evil spirits, foul spirits, demon spirits. I know that Jesus doing such actions may sound, well, rather primitive or scary to us, and I am guessing that such actions may elicit images of Grade B horror films. And yet, there is no getting around that a major part of his ministry was casting out bad and awful spirits. He fed. He led. He healed. He forgave. He loved. He did so much for us, and one of the things that he did then and does now is, again, exorcize.
So, what are your evil spirits that you need cast out? Control? Fear? Anxiety? Shame? Despair? Worry? Rigidity? Meanness? What are the “spirits,” the emotions, the attitudes, the prejudices, the addictions that separate you from God, from others, from your best and most glorious and most alive self?
Jesus wants to cast out those spirits so that you can be led by God’s Spirit. He wants you to be free. He wants to rebuke anything, any voice, any power or force that shuts down your heart, that closes your mind, that derails your faith-path.
The question is not whether Jesus wants to or can exorcize. He does and he can. The question is whether we want him to. Sometimes those “evil” spirits can be enticing. Sometimes they can seem like our friends. But, don’t be seduced. Those “spirits” are slanderers, liars, accusers, and they will suck the life and hope and joy right out of you.
I am thankful that Jesus came to exorcize. I know I need his casting out voice in my life. I hope you feel and know the same. He came to exorcize in order for us to be free. Thanks be to God.
Jesus exorcized evil spirits, foul spirits, demon spirits. I know that Jesus doing such actions may sound, well, rather primitive or scary to us, and I am guessing that such actions may elicit images of Grade B horror films. And yet, there is no getting around that a major part of his ministry was casting out bad and awful spirits. He fed. He led. He healed. He forgave. He loved. He did so much for us, and one of the things that he did then and does now is, again, exorcize.
So, what are your evil spirits that you need cast out? Control? Fear? Anxiety? Shame? Despair? Worry? Rigidity? Meanness? What are the “spirits,” the emotions, the attitudes, the prejudices, the addictions that separate you from God, from others, from your best and most glorious and most alive self?
Jesus wants to cast out those spirits so that you can be led by God’s Spirit. He wants you to be free. He wants to rebuke anything, any voice, any power or force that shuts down your heart, that closes your mind, that derails your faith-path.
The question is not whether Jesus wants to or can exorcize. He does and he can. The question is whether we want him to. Sometimes those “evil” spirits can be enticing. Sometimes they can seem like our friends. But, don’t be seduced. Those “spirits” are slanderers, liars, accusers, and they will suck the life and hope and joy right out of you.
I am thankful that Jesus came to exorcize. I know I need his casting out voice in my life. I hope you feel and know the same. He came to exorcize in order for us to be free. Thanks be to God.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Jesus Passed The Test - Day 4
"And the Spirit immediately drove [Jesus] out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him." (Mark 1:12-13)
Through very extensive study this week I have discovered that another word for "tempted" in this passage is "tested."
Tempted has a connotation of sin. Tested has a connotation of doing battle, or being purified or galvanized or clarified. Again, I think that the scholars who include "being tested" along with "being tempted" in this passgage are onto something.
I can see how and why God may have wanted to test Jesus. He was about ready to embark upon a great piece of work, and that was to bring us back to God, to give his life on the cross for us, to show us the way of faithfulness. In order to proceed on his work God needed to know and Jesus himself needed to know if he could pass the test of Satan, the test of whether he was going to serve another Master other than God, the test of whether his mission was going to be for himself or for us and for God.
We all get tested. I know that many of you are facing real and challenging tests right now. Why don’t you think about calling on Jesus to help you face into and pass your tests? He knows all "testings" that we face—that is one of the reasons why he came to this earth. And if you fail, as we all have done and as we all will continue to do, then throw yourselves onto his mercy. Don’t make excuses for your failures. Don’t blame anyone else. It is not worthy of you. But do, again, trust in his mercy. It was imperative that Jesus pass this first test for many reasons. One of which was that in passing this test and ultimately in facing his final test, the cross, his forgiveness is real for you and for me.
Through very extensive study this week I have discovered that another word for "tempted" in this passage is "tested."
Tempted has a connotation of sin. Tested has a connotation of doing battle, or being purified or galvanized or clarified. Again, I think that the scholars who include "being tested" along with "being tempted" in this passgage are onto something.
I can see how and why God may have wanted to test Jesus. He was about ready to embark upon a great piece of work, and that was to bring us back to God, to give his life on the cross for us, to show us the way of faithfulness. In order to proceed on his work God needed to know and Jesus himself needed to know if he could pass the test of Satan, the test of whether he was going to serve another Master other than God, the test of whether his mission was going to be for himself or for us and for God.
We all get tested. I know that many of you are facing real and challenging tests right now. Why don’t you think about calling on Jesus to help you face into and pass your tests? He knows all "testings" that we face—that is one of the reasons why he came to this earth. And if you fail, as we all have done and as we all will continue to do, then throw yourselves onto his mercy. Don’t make excuses for your failures. Don’t blame anyone else. It is not worthy of you. But do, again, trust in his mercy. It was imperative that Jesus pass this first test for many reasons. One of which was that in passing this test and ultimately in facing his final test, the cross, his forgiveness is real for you and for me.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Jesus Told us to Turn Around - Day 3
The first recorded words we hear from Jesus in Mark’s gospel are these: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news (1:15).”
The word “repent” means turn around, change your mind, your direction, your orientation. The word doesn’t mean beat your breast. It doesn’t mean feel total and unremitting shame, remorse, guilt. And yes, I know that this is how the word is often used; and yes I know that many of us have been beaten up by the word. But anybody who has done that to you didn’t do his or her homework. Anybody who did that to you was working out his or her own agenda and was not working for Jesus.
When Jesus says “repent” he is saying come back to me, come back to my love. He is saying, “Dearest Brother, dearest sister, if you keep on going that way you are going to get lost, in trouble; you are going to get hungry; you are going to hurt your self or someone you love.” Repent is a loving word. It can be a strong word, even a fierce word, but it is, again, always a word about love.
So, how might you need to repent this Lent? Turn around? Come back home to God? Come back home to yourself, your best self, the self God made you to be? Don’t be ashamed to ask for directions. Consult the map. God is home.
The word “repent” means turn around, change your mind, your direction, your orientation. The word doesn’t mean beat your breast. It doesn’t mean feel total and unremitting shame, remorse, guilt. And yes, I know that this is how the word is often used; and yes I know that many of us have been beaten up by the word. But anybody who has done that to you didn’t do his or her homework. Anybody who did that to you was working out his or her own agenda and was not working for Jesus.
When Jesus says “repent” he is saying come back to me, come back to my love. He is saying, “Dearest Brother, dearest sister, if you keep on going that way you are going to get lost, in trouble; you are going to get hungry; you are going to hurt your self or someone you love.” Repent is a loving word. It can be a strong word, even a fierce word, but it is, again, always a word about love.
So, how might you need to repent this Lent? Turn around? Come back home to God? Come back home to yourself, your best self, the self God made you to be? Don’t be ashamed to ask for directions. Consult the map. God is home.
Jesus Likes Doughnuts - Day 2
Yes, I know that this is a clever heading, but I am trying to get your attention. So often I hear people say that they are giving up doughnuts or chocolate or ice cream or…for Lent. I think most such "deprivations" are rather silly. I think most such "sacrifices" trivialize Lent, and completely miss the point of what Jesus has done for us.
It says in the gospel of Luke that "when the days drew near for him to be taken up, he [Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem." (9:51) Jesus gives up his life for us and we give up doughnuts for him. That now sounds silly to you too, doesn’t it?
So, let us get real. I am all for giving things up, but what do you need to give up that gets in the way of you following Jesus, being Jesus for others, loving like Jesus, forgiving like Jesus, trusting like Jesus, and making disciples for Jesus? Fear would be one. Worry and anxiety would be others. Lack of faith or of courage, they, too, would work.
It is easier to give up doughnuts than giving up control. But don’t fool yourself and certainly don’t try to fool Jesus. He would rather have your life than your doughnut abstinence. Don’t give up doughnuts for Jesus. He doesn’t want them. Give up something that will actually change your life.
It says in the gospel of Luke that "when the days drew near for him to be taken up, he [Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem." (9:51) Jesus gives up his life for us and we give up doughnuts for him. That now sounds silly to you too, doesn’t it?
So, let us get real. I am all for giving things up, but what do you need to give up that gets in the way of you following Jesus, being Jesus for others, loving like Jesus, forgiving like Jesus, trusting like Jesus, and making disciples for Jesus? Fear would be one. Worry and anxiety would be others. Lack of faith or of courage, they, too, would work.
It is easier to give up doughnuts than giving up control. But don’t fool yourself and certainly don’t try to fool Jesus. He would rather have your life than your doughnut abstinence. Don’t give up doughnuts for Jesus. He doesn’t want them. Give up something that will actually change your life.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Jesus Didn't Like Grandstanding Piety (Ash Wednesday)
In today’s gospel lesson (Mt. 6: 1-6, 16-21) Jesus says, "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven."
What are we to do with this admonition on the day when many of us will be walking around with ashes on our foreheads?
I think what Jesus is saying in this scripture is that we must do our piety, our acts of ritual, our worship, for our souls and for our connection with God and not for anyone else. He doesn’t want us to play Pious-Peter or Holier-than-Thou-Holly.
Jesus also doesn’t want us to divorce any pious acts or observances from real and significant inner transformation and soul-changing. If we go through our rituals and they don’t change us, then something is missing. If we go through our rituals and we are not impacted, then we are playing magic and we give no glory to God.
Today, with the ashes on your forehead—what will change for you? How will thinking about your mortality help you to change some aspect of your life? How do you need to turn around, make amends, surrender, say that you're sorry, say thank you, give praise? Let the ashes prompt real questions and real commitment.
What are we to do with this admonition on the day when many of us will be walking around with ashes on our foreheads?
I think what Jesus is saying in this scripture is that we must do our piety, our acts of ritual, our worship, for our souls and for our connection with God and not for anyone else. He doesn’t want us to play Pious-Peter or Holier-than-Thou-Holly.
Jesus also doesn’t want us to divorce any pious acts or observances from real and significant inner transformation and soul-changing. If we go through our rituals and they don’t change us, then something is missing. If we go through our rituals and we are not impacted, then we are playing magic and we give no glory to God.
Today, with the ashes on your forehead—what will change for you? How will thinking about your mortality help you to change some aspect of your life? How do you need to turn around, make amends, surrender, say that you're sorry, say thank you, give praise? Let the ashes prompt real questions and real commitment.
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