felix hominum

God writes his story in fire - memories of Holy Saturday

photo Joe Walker 2008

One of the most wonderful images which runs through God's story is that of fire.  It is there in Genesis, and there again in Revelation.  On Holy Saturday we began our celebration with the "kindling of the new fire".  I must confess that the Vigil of Holy Saturday is my favourite time of the year.  And not just because men like to poke fire with a stick (although we all do).  The evening begins with a visible reminder of one of the great images from God's story:  fire.

Twenty seven centuries ago the prophet Jeremiah wrote a simple line, which has within it the key to all that we do here tonight.  “Is not my word like fire?, says the Lord”   Tonight we began with fire, and mark this well,  we shall end with fire also.  The story of God’s people is written in fire. 

For the three days preceding Easter we heard again the story of redemption, from the story of Adam to the story of Christ.  We heard the story of bread and wine and transformation, we heard the story of suffering and sacrifice and death on a cross.  But on Holy Saturday we heard the story of fire. And as the invitation was given on Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday, so the invitation is given tonight:  if you wish to understand the story of God, you must yourselves accept the invitation to become a living part of it. 

“Is not my word like fire, says the Lord”

The Lord God placed an angel at the entrance of the garden of Eden, the paradise, and the angel held a flaming sword, which prevented Adam & Eve from returning.  None could return there, to that place of innocence.  "Paradise was lost".  Lost, it seemed, forever.

What became of that flaming sword, which guarded the entrance to Paradise?  Do you not remember how Christ was pierced with that sword too? And he has this time, wholly swallowed it up in his side. And out of that side, the soldier saw, flowed blood and water:  the blood of the new covenant and the waters of baptism and new life. And then Christ declared: This day you will be with me in paradise! 

Is not my word like fire, says the Lord?

Remember the old fire which Abraham carried to the offering of his son:  "Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, "Father?" "Yes, my son?" Abraham replied. "The fire and wood are here," Isaac said, "but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"  And Abraham replied:  The lord himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering”

"The fire and the wood are here."  Did you not hear of the fire and wood when he was crucified?  When the burnt offering of the lamb was fashioned upon the wood of the cross, and he was held there not by the cold steel of the nails, but by the hot fire of love? 

Is not my word like fire, says the Lord?

What is this?, Moses said.  The bush is burning, but it is not consumed?  Remember the fire of Mt Sinai, Mt Horeb, when God appeared to us in the burning bush.  For then we could not approach.  He commanded us to stand far off, it was not permitted us to walk on holy ground.  And when the Lord God led them out of slavery into redemption, he went before them with fire:

The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel by day and by night.

Is not my word like fire, says the Lord?

And John the Baptist, the last of the old prophets and the herald of the new Messiah, said to them:  "I baptize you with water. But one more powerful than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.”   The one more powerful has come, and he is Jesus, the Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, and he brings Fire with him.  Not the old fire, from which we kept our distance, lest we be consumed by it, but the new fire, which the prophet Malachi saw from old:  the fire which shall refine my people, and purify them as silver and gold – the fire of God’s cleansing found in the new baptism.

Now the new fire of Holy Spirit bids us draw near with faith; and he who calls us says you are no longer merely servants, but friends of the living God.

“As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven.”  Elisha watched as Elijah, the greatest of the old prophets, was swept up by the chariot of fire – the fire which rose up to heaven.  But God’s word is like a fire, and fire came down again.  This time the fire would descend and stay with us.

The Apostles were gathered together on the day of Pentecost; locked in the upper room for fear, and “Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit.”  The Fire is not just in heaven, it has come down to earth, and God pours out his spirit upon all flesh.

Is not my word like fire, says the Lord?

The prophet Daniel - He replied, ‘But I see four men unbound, walking in the middle of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the fourth has the appearance of a son of god.’  Who is this who walks in the middle of the fire, and has the appearance of the son of god?

Is not my word like fire, says the Lord?

"Then I turned to see whose voice it was that spoke to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands I saw one like the Son of Man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash across his chest. His head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; his eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters. 16In his right hand he held seven stars, and from his mouth came a sharp, two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining with full force.  When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he placed his right hand on me, saying, ‘Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive for ever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades. Now write what you have seen, what is, and what is to take place after this."

The Word became flesh, and that Word is like fire.

Christ is Risen!  Kindle the new fire!

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire...

Good Friday in Jerusalem...

photo Joe Walker, 2005
courtyard of the church of the Holy Sepulcher,
just after a small incident, which I might relate when I have the time...

on preparing the bread & wine for Maundy Thursday

We have seen bread before.  Almost 40 days ago we heard the words of the tempter:  “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread.”  Jesus will not turn stones into bread.  Instead, in his hands bread becomes something greater.  He has answered Satan once again.  For who else but the Son of God can take this bread and make it something greater? 

We have seen wine before.  At the wedding feast of Cana in Galillee, Jesus took water and changed it into wine.  Recall his words at that time:  my hour has not yet come.  Tonight his hour has come:  But what does Jesus do?  He takes the cup of wine and makes it into something better.  This is the cup of the new covenant in His blood. 

And still the words of the steward of the feast echo in our ears: 

“You have saved the best wine until now.”

Maundy Thursday sermon notes, Year B

Like the other services of Holy Week, Maundy Thursday is so rich with imagery that one could (and some do) take a thousand directions.  I'm thinking of going through the passover route, but I also find that one little line in the Gospel of John is a wonderful starting point for discovering Jesus

 “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”

Jesus is about loving us, and loving us to the end.  What does it mean to love someone to the end?  Maybe it will help us to think about Judas. Judas is already planning to betray Jesus.  And yet Jesus invites even Judas to share in this last supper with him.  Jesus even loves Judas while he is betraying him.  Jesus  even loves Judas to the end.  Jesus loves Judas enough to give Judas the freedom to betray him.  Jesus does not stop him from doing this.  Neither will he stop you.  He gives you the freedom of choice to accept or reject, just as he gave that choice to Judas.  Jesus will love you to the end.  Even when we betray him, he loves us.  God never leaves us, we leave him.  Tomorrow on Good Friday we will see just how much we turn our backs on God.

And during supper, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God,  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.

How do you picture Jesus?  We all have images in our minds of people that we know.  The way we imagine them when we think about them.  What is Jesus doing in your picture of him?  We have seen many pictures of him in our lives  - from Sunday School to Christmas cards.  There He was – in a manger, while Angel choirs sang around him, and wise men from the east offered him gold and frankincense and myhhr.  During Epiphany we saw him doing miracles – healing, feeding,  changing water into wine – amazing the crowds and the disciples with his feats of power.   He came into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday with shouts of joy.  He has performed every miracle there is  - he made the blind see and the lame to walk - he showed his power in walking on the water in the midst of the storm.  He is the Son of David – the Messiah – the King of Israel – the very Word of God who created the universe and everything in it –  He was with God the Father and the Holy Spirit from before time existed – from all eternity. He will come again as the Judge of the World.  How does HE want us to picture Him?
And during supper, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God,  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.

What would I do if God had put all things into my hands,  what would I use all that power for?  Would I use it for the sake of others, or would I use it for myself?

The gospel tells us that Jesus knew that the Father had given all things into his hands, that he had come from God and was going to return to God.  Jesus knew where he came from and where he was heading – he knew who he was.  It was not a threat to him to get down on his hands and knees and get dirty.  He wasn’t embarrassed, or ashamed, or self conscious.  He didn’t care what he looked like, or what other people thought of him. He wasn’t afraid of doing the right thing, even if it made him look  - well -  look stupid.  He was free from other peoples’ opinions of him.  If you know you are from God and you are going to God – you will live freely.

Jesus knew where he came from and where he was going – do we?  Jesus knew who he was;  it wasn’t a threat to him to serve others.  How could he show them one last time what his message was, what God was like, how we should live?  By serving in a very humble way.
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?"  Jesus answered, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet."  Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me."
Why does Peter want to refuse Jesus’ request?  Why would any of us refuse this request from Jesus?

Maybe Peter is perhaps embarrassed.   After all, if someone tells you that you need a wash, it’s not usually taken as a compliment.  And it’s even worse if it is in front of your friends.  We don’t like to have attention drawn to those parts of us that need to be washed.  We don’t like attention drawn to those parts of our hearts and lives that need to be washed by Jesus.  We don’t like to have God say to us “You’re dirty there” – especially if we are afraid that someone else is watching.    We prefer to keep those things secret.  Our private sins – our angers, or jealousies, our private lusts and desires,  our pettiness, our selfishness, our greed.

Jesus says “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”   We tend to forget two things – number one:  Jesus only points out our dirtiness so that he can clean us;  and number two:  everyone else is dirty too.  Peter was not the only disciple at that table who needed to have his feet washed;  and neither are you.  It’s actually freeing to admit that we are all on equal ground here – we all need Jesus to wash us.  Nor is it any good pretending.  It’s better to admit that we are all sinners and get on with the job of letting Jesus make us into saints.

Perhaps Peter thinks that this is somehow “beneath” Jesus.  After all, washing feet is a slave’s job.  Jesus is supposed to be doing something big and spectacular, not something ordinary and lowly.  Peter doesn’t understand what Jesus is doing.  Of course he doesn’t, and neither do we most of the time.  Peter objects to what Jesus is doing.  “Wait a minute Jesus, you are supposed to be God’s Son, this stuff is for other people.  This is not important work, this is menial labour for slaves to do.  Let one of the servants do this kind of thing.”  I want you, Jesus, to do something big and impressive.
Too often we say to God, “don’t do that, do something else, do something magnificent and glorious, do something wonderful that will make us all oohh and ahhh.  Don’t do something so lowly and paltry and foolish.  Do something big!!! “

How often we want God to do something big and glorious in our lives, or in the lives of others, and instead he disappoints us with the lowly and mean and ordinary.  Before Sarah Joy was born – we wanted a miracle – something big and impressive from God.  Instead we got more of the ordinary -  more nights spent in the hospital with countless other ordinary people – parents, husbands, wives -  who did not receive a miracle.  It is God’s gift to us to give us someone who requires more of the ordinary everyday care than usual.  Someone who needs more help with ordinary things like sitting in a high chair learning to use a spoon,  more help with ordinary chores like putting on a simple piece of clothing.  More chances for us practice what Jesus was trying to teach his disciples about love.   – about becoming like him in the day to day.

We want Jesus to show up in a big way, and do something glorious and amazing.  We forget that what God thinks is glorious and amazing is performing simple acts of love for one another in our day to day lives.  

Perhaps Peter had a bit too much pride to accept this act of service from someone else.  Most of us don’t know how to accept a compliment, let alone someone like Jesus getting down and washing our feet.

We live in a “self-help” culture.  Be self sufficient, don’t rely on anyone or anything else – all you need is within you.  Jesus tells us that we need to learn to accept his help.  And we need to learn to accept help from one another.  God has designed his church so that we grow by learning to accept the gifts and help that we can bring to each other.  Each of us is here to give, but before that,  each of us is here to receive.

We have to learn how to accept help from others, we have to learn how to accept God helping us, we have to learn how to accept Jesus getting down and washing our feet.  Too often we would rather say, “No thanks, I can do it by myself.”  I can fix my own problems.  I don’t need your advice, I don’t need your prayers, I don’t need your pity.   I don’t want you to know that I have my weak spots.  Pride.
If you don’t know how to accept help, chances are you really don’t know how to offer it.  That is part of the lesson that Jesus is teaching his disciples.   Learn to accept help from God – he wants to serve you.

related:  thoughts on Maundy Thursday

Palm Sunday sermon notes: Turning Palms into Crosses

(edited repost:  Palm Sunday Sermon)

How is it that we turn palms into crosses?  Every year we try our best to take these long strips of palm branch and by some feat of engineering, we turn them into crosses.  We sometimes don’t fully understand what exactly we are doing.  We take these things which are supposed to be instruments of joyfulness and praise for Jesus, and we turn them into crosses, forgetting that this represents the very thing on which Jesus was crucified.  We usually never consider that strange custom that has evolved in the church over the years.  The very same things that are supposed to praise God, are turned against Jesus.  How does this palm branch turn into a cross?

It is easy to forget, as we wave a little cross, that it is an instrument of death.  We see that palm branch, we turn it into an empty cross, and we conveniently pass over the suffering and death in between.  The cross was not always empty.

This is the beginning of Holy Week. Today we started with shouts of Hosanna.  Next Sunday is Easter - the day of resurrection and shouts of Alleluia.  But we are not there yet.  Between the shouts of Hosanna and the shouts of Alleluia there is another shout:  “Crucify him, Crucify him.”  "’Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.’ But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed.”  

    We have had two sets of readings this morning, each set painting a picture before us.  We started off the morning with a parade and shouts of joy.  The first picture is the “Palm Sunday” picture.  It is all about the crowds welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem with shouts of Hosanna.  The second picture we have today is the “Good Friday” picture.  It is about the same crowds shouting “Crucify Him” and about how Jesus endures the suffering of the Cross.

    What do we learn when we see these two pictures side by side?  We learn about love.  In the first picture we learn about how the crowds, and we, love Jesus.  Let’s call that “Palm Sunday” love.  In the second picture we learn about how Jesus loves the crowds – and us.  Let’s call that “Good Friday” love.  These two kinds of love – Palm Sunday love and Good Friday love, show us the difference between how we love, and how God loves.

(Palm Sunday Love)

    First there is the love which the crowds show to Jesus on Palm Sunday.  It is exciting, it is loud and it is a big show.  They welcome Him into Jerusalem with palm branches and songs and shouts of joy:  “Hosanna to the Son of David”.  They are welcoming Jesus as their King into the throne of David.  But within a few days that same crowd turns on Jesus.  When Pilate asks them what they want to do with this Jesus, this King of the Jews, they reply – “Crucify Him”.  What is wrong with this picture?  

    It is not lack of enthusiasm.  They were enthusiastic when they shouted “Hosanna to the son of David”.  Yet they were just as enthusiastic when they shouted “Crucify Him”.  If we think love is about putting on a big show, or just being enthusiastic, we need to think again.   The crowd was pretty enthusiastic when things were going well for Jesus.  Palm Sunday love is like that.  It loves when there is a good time to be had, and it stops loving when there are bad times to be had.  This way of loving changes with the weather, or with the circumstances. Status, appearance, health, reputation – all these things matter to Palm Sunday love.  Loving a person – any person, including Jesus, means you love them regardless of their circumstances.   You can love the person, or you can love the things around the person.   The crowds didn’t love the person of Jesus.  They loved the show, the power, the miracles, the idea that this man would be their king.

        It is a test of our love for any person – including God – whether we love them just for who they are, or we love them because of the stuff around them.  Not many people were left loving Jesus when he was being crucified, when everything glamorous and exciting was gone from him.  Jesus died alone.

    Is love about being “happy”, whatever we think that word means?  The Palm Sunday crowd is very happy to have Jesus around.  But they are also just as happy to have Him crucified.  This is the more difficult part of the problem.  Love is not about the crowds being happy.  And love is not about me being happy.  Too often we think that it is.  We think that love is supposed to be there for my sole benefit – that love is there to make me happy.  Palm Sunday love is self-serving.  It says “I don’t care what happens to you, as long as I am happy – that is what matters.”  It says “I will love you as long as I get something out of it.”  My happiness is the supreme goal of life.  And this kind of love says – “I will love you for as long as it is convenient for me, for as long as I am getting something out of it, as long as you make me happy – I will love you.”

    It is a test of our love for God and for each other.  Do we still love when we are not “getting something out of it?”  Do I love only when it makes me happy?  Am I more concerned about my own happiness than the happiness of the person I am supposed to be loving?  Love is not self-centered or self-serving.__

(Good Friday Love)

    Now let us think about the Good Friday picture.  What do we think we are seeing when we get a picture of the crucifixion of Jesus?  Do we think we are seeing a man suffering?  Yes, but more than that.  Do we think we are seeing the fulfillment of prophecy?  Yes, and more than that?  We are seeing a picture of love.  On Palm Sunday we see a picture of our love for God, on Good Friday we see a picture of God’s love for us.

How is Jesus’ love for us, different from our love for Him?

(Commitment)

    Six centuries before Jesus was born, the prophet Isaiah wrote some words describing the Messiah that God was going to send.  Here are the words Isaiah wrote about the Messiah who would come, and what that Messiah would be like:  

I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.  The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint.

“I have set my face like flint”.  

    What does that tell us about Jesus’ character? About his love?  It tells us about his determination.  He has a strength of willpower that says – I will do what I need to do.  Jesus shows us that the foundation of love is commitment.  He set his face like flint – against everything that will come his way.  _We get enthusiastic – but Jesus gets determined.  Good Friday love means commitment.  It means commitment regardless of the  circumstances.  Jesus is committed to us when the circumstances change.  He loves us when we are shouting “Hosanna” and he loves us when we are shouting “Away with this man.”  Jesus loves us when that love is not returned.  He loves us regardless of how we treat him.  He simply loves us.  He is not merely enthusiastic about loving us when things are great; he is committed to loving us when things are darkest, for us and for him.  He loves us when we shout “Crucify Him, Crucify Him.”   That is not only the darkest moment for Jesus.  It is also the darkest moment for us – when we cry out in rebellion against God.  

How does Jesus react to our treatment of him?  How did he react then?  “I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.”   How does God react to our treatment of Him?  He puts up with it; he endures it – remember Jesus prayed while he was being led away for crucifixion – “Father forgive them, they do not know what they are doing”.  What happens when love faces a challenge?  That is when love is tested.  That is when we see what love is really made of  - is it Palm Sunday love, or is it Good Friday love?   That is when Jesus is tested.  Jesus prays forgiveness.

(Self sacrifice, rather than self service)

    Whose happiness is Jesus concerned about as he is being crucified?  His own, or someone else’s?  Jesus is willing to endure suffering, and insults, and even death, for the sake of someone else’s happiness – yours and mine.  He did not turn back from suffering because he loved us.  Good Friday love is willing to endure the wrongs of others, to put its own happiness second place, for the sake of someone else.  We have nothing that we can give to God.  God is not in this for what “He can get out of it”.  He is “in it” because He loves us.  

Jesus’ attitude and his actions are not changed by other people’s reactions to him.  Our love is often changed by other people’s attitudes and reactions.  It is part of the “what do I get out of it” syndrome.  Jesus’ love for us does not depend on how well we treat him.  Look at what happens to him.  And look how he reacts.

    How do we get this new kind of love?  At best, most of us are caught between the two kinds of love – we perhaps admire the Good Friday love, but more often than not we practice the Palm Sunday love.  Good Friday love is great to see – in other people.   How do we grow in our love and move from one to the other?   Not by struggling to be better, or by making new resolutions to be a better person, or through he myriads of self help books that line the shelves of secular and sacred book shops.  It is a gift, as everything from God is.  It is the highest and best gift of all the gifts of the Spirit – and it is the only gift which will last. For that gift, let us pray.

John 12: 20-33 sermon notes Lent 5 Year B

sermon notes Lent 5 Year B, John 12: 20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks.  They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus."

Apparently Philip was a "known accomplice" of Jesus.  How else could one explain the scenario that some Greeks, coming up for the festival, approach him in order to see Jesus?  I find this a fascinating dynamic as I try to imagine what it is that is happening in this scene.  Notice that they did not go right up to Jesus, these people who were looking to find him.  They first approached Philip and asked him about Jesus.  Apparently Philip was the type of person whom they could approach to find out about seeing Jesus.  Was Philip the kind of disciple who invited this kind of approach?  I mean, if someone was looking to get connected to Jesus, whom would they approach?

It seems to me that Philip has two qualities:  he is approachable and he is identifiable.  I believe that effective evangelism involves both.  There can be an error on either side.  One can be so "approachable" in a bad sense that one is merely accomodating to whatever the inquiry is.  Yet on the other side one needs to be cautious as to what "being identifiable" really looks like.  Apparently, in the case of Philip, the persons in question were sufficiently confident of his relationship with Jesus (in the obvious sense) that they were confident that he could lead them to see Jesus.  Philip, by inference, strikes me as having that combination:  he is approachable and yet he is unmistakably identified as one of Jesus' followers;  Philip can help others to see Jesus because he himself has seen Him, and walked with Him.  We cannot help others to look at someone we ourselves have not seen.

Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

Philip needs some backup - he gets Andrew, and then together they tell Jesus.  And it is here that Jesus really begins to answer the "wish" that was expressed.  What is it, really, to "see Jesus"?  Jesus addresses a similar question when he asked people about John the Baptist - "what did you come out to see?"  What is it that we think we will find when we "see Jesus"?  I'm not certain we are prepared for what we will find:

Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.  Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.  Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

Do you still wish to see Jesus?  Perhaps he is a bit different from what you imagined.  If you gave up chocolate for Lent and thought you were doing okay, then how about the next step?  How about giving up your life?  This stark contrast between Jesus being "glorified" and the image of the insignificant grain of wheat falling and dying gives us a picture of Jesus. This is the Jesus whom we don't always want to see.  Perhaps the Greeks who were looking for him wanted to see the miracle worker, the spectacle, the teacher.  There is a sense in which "seeing" is merely observing.  And if they, or we, want to observe Jesus, here is what we get:  the glorious spectacle of death;  the sight of a grain of wheat being crushed into the dirt.

Then Jesus turns to us:  those who live their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  Jesus will not stand to be merely the object of "seeing".  You cannot merely look at him and understand.  Instead, Jesus invites us onto the same path. You cannot see Him without following Him.  That is the core of His message.  We will never see Him for who He is, unless we are willing to follow in his path.  He cannot be "observed" from a distance.  "You wish to see Jesus?"  Then begin by losing your life, as He did.  "Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also."

This is the hard stuff which separates being a Christian from being a mere observer of the Christian religion.  Personally, I'd rather go with something a bit softer, but you know, Lent and all that.  At any rate, if we follow Jesus, we follow him all the way to the cross.

It was at this particular point that I was thinking of something entirely different for another post.  You know that scene from "300", where the Spartans come across the rest of the Greeks?  The other Greeks say - Hey Leonidas, looks like we have more soldiers than you...  And the Spartan leader simply begins asking them - you there, what's your profession?  And then the replies come out - baker, carpenter, whatever...  He then turns to the Spartans - "What is your profession?"  Of course his point is clear:  the Spartans are soldiers, that is their identity, as opposed to the other Greeks, who simply put on the identity of soldier in this time of war.  And so 300 Spartans, who know their primary identity. are worth more than 3000 other Greeks who simply try to be soldiers when the need arises.  I sort of was going to do a post on this topic, but thought I would throw it in here.  Jesus challenges us:  what is your primary identity?  The analogy is not perfect, but I do think it is apt.  300 Spartans - committed and loyal to their leader are worth more than a thousand Athenians who are soldiers of convenience.  And do we in our churches see the two groups?  Give me a few Spartans over numerous Athenians any day.  But I digress.

lenten series: Bernard of Clairvaux On Loving God, pt 5

So then in the beginning man loves God, not for God's sake, but for his own. It is something for him to know how little he can do by himself and how much by God's help, and in that knowledge to order himself rightly towards God, his sure support.

But when tribulations, recurring again and again, constrain him to turn to God for unfailing help, would not even a heart as hard as iron, as cold as marble, be softened by the goodness of such a Savior, so that he would love God not altogether selfishly, but because He is God?

Bernard of Clairvaux - On Loving God ch. ix

In the first degree of love, we love God for "self's sake".  That is, we love God for what God can do for us.  We are pleased to receive God's benefits and blessings, and as we do so we are drawn to love Him.  But will we still love God when "tribulations, recurring again and again" break upon us? This is the movement from loving God because of His benefits presently enjoyed, to loving God because of His care for us in the midst of troubles.  As Bernard puts it, can we begin to love God simply "because He is God"?

Bernard also gives us a way of approaching hardships in life.  They are redeemable in that we begin to seek God despite them.  It is analogous to the marriage vow of loving "for better, for worse".  The test of love does not come in the better, in comes in the worse.  The analogy breaks down when we realize that it is not the Beloved who has become worse, only the circumstances of our lives.  It is God's presence in hardship and despite hardship which begins to fashion in us a newer and deeper degree of love. 

Let frequent troubles drive us to frequent supplications; and surely, tasting, we must see how gracious the Lord is (Ps. 34.8). Thereupon His goodness once realized draws us to love Him unselfishly, yet more than our own needs impel us to love Him selfishly: even as the Samaritans told the woman who announced that it was Christ who was at the well: `Now we believe, not because of thy saying: for we have heard Him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the savior of the world' (John 4.42). 

This is a fairly interesting use of the story of the woman at the well.  In a figurative interpretation, Bernard says that our "need" functions like the woman - they announce to us the presence of Christ. Then a deeper part of us replies that we can see and love God better; not simply because our needs announced that they were being looked after.  Loving God for the sake of our "needs" impels us to love selfishly;  we will love only as long as our "needs" are met.  But as God meets those needs He also draws us onward in a place of "troubles".

I don't find it clear from the text that God creates the troubles, merely that He uses them for this higher purpose.  Nor is it clear that God's response is merely to change our circumstances again to what they were.  Rather, the goal seems to be to recognize God's goodness in the midst of hardships.  And I might say, from my own limited experience, that is quite a leap to make.  But worth it if it is made...

Lenten post series on Bernard of Clairvaux here

Which, btw, seems to missing post #4, but that is a mystery which I will need to address another time...

sermon notes Lent 4, Year B, John 3:14-21

Related: 
Year B Lent 1
Year B Lent 2
Year B Lent 3
Year B Lent 5

Near Mt Nebo, Jordan
photo © Joe Walker 2005

And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up,
that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

On a clear day, with clear vision, you can just make out Jerusalem from there.  I'll add some text in a day or two.

The story of the bronze serpent is found in Numbers 21: 4-9

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

The bronze serpent pops up again in 2 Kings 18:  [Hezekiah] removed the high places, broke down the pillars, and cut down the sacred pole. He broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it; it was called Nehushtan. 

It is a fascinating event.  It is one of those biblical stories which leaves modern consciousness reeling to find an explanation for the whole episode.  The serpent is both the agent of destruction and the agent of healing.  The very thing which brings death also, in another context, brings life.  But the passage from 2 Kings gives some food for thought:  is there a tendency to turn to, and worship, the means of salvation, instead of the God of salvation? 

At any rate, it would appear a completely absurd invention on the part of God to have this particular sign as the means by which the obstinate & complaining company of the Israelites were to be healed.  It is here that I think of the typology of the cross.  If it is absurd to think of looking upon the bronze serpent, then it is also absurd to think the same of looking to the crucified Jesus.  This is, I think, the first instance of what Paul will later call the foolishness of the cross.  God is completely capable of arranging things in such a manner that they look, well, quite strange.  But that is God's call, not mine.

Jesus picks up this story and reveals it to be typology, that is, an event which has a significance beyond itself.  This is different from treating it as allegory, but we can get into that later.  I suspect this typology can work in a few ways.  We see the obvious connection intended between the serpent "lifted up" and Jesus "lifted up".  The serpent is a thing both of death/judgment and life.  As is Jesus:  in the passage from John he clearly intends that there be redemption, but there is talk of evil/judgment. 

Thinking back to modern-day Jordan, where the memorial of the bronze serpent is, you can see into the "promised land" on a clear day.  I've stood there a few times over the years.  It is a marvellous act to look at the serpent, and then to realize that as you gaze, you are looking toward the promised land.  It is a sort of living geographical typology.  When we look to Jesus on the cross, as despised as a serpent, we can see past the cross toward the resurrection, the place of salvation.

ed - today (as I write this) being the feast of St Joseph, I think I'll honour my patron with a modestly extravagant lunch... back in a while.

And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.  "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.  "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God.  And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.  For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.  But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God."

As a Lenten passage, this text speaks of redemption out of judgment.  Notice that the source of the judgment here is not Jesus, but ourselves.  The "exposing power" of light (a favourite theme in John) is used to show the contrast between good and evil.  While many might be tempted to end the message after the comforting words of v 16, the text we have continues on.  Judgment seems to be based solely on this:  what (or whom) do you love? Darkness prevents sight, prevents one from "looking" at what has been lifted up.  Darkness ends in the choice not to look upward. 

There is always (at least for me) a struggle with how to address the element of judgment in such texts.  It is certainly good news that Jesus' purpose is not to condemn, but rather to save (from ourselves?).  And yet I sense that it is not the case that Jesus cannot condemn (he has lots of harsh words in the gospel), but rather that there is no need for evidence other than our own deeds in order to do so. 

Route with few bumps:  stick to an allegorized harmony of the two stories...look to God...look to Jesus on the cross, no matter how absurd it may seem.  Look upward.  God loves the world. Yada Yada Yada...

Route with bumps:  the agent of judgment/death is also the agent of salvation.  This is why Jesus brings in the reference.  The means of salvation may appear abhorrent, but it is the only means.  It meant, for Jesus, becoming the serpent ("he became sin who knew no sin") in order to bring healing.

sermon notes Lent 3, Year B, John 2:13-22

Related: 
Year B Lent 1
Year B Lent 2
Year B Lent 4
Year B Lent 5

The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money-changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, ‘Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a market-place!’ His disciples remembered that it was written, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.’ The Jews then said to him, ‘What sign can you show us for doing this?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’ The Jews then said, ‘This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?’ But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

It is worth considering this passage in light of the OT reading this week:  the ten commandments from Exodus.  Both of these readings have to do with, well, "holiness".  Holiness is perhaps not a terribly popular concept.  I think it shares that place with other Lenten-ish things like self-denial, sacrifice, repentance from sin, and other the other fun stuff which makes me say "Have a miserable Lent".

The 10 words from Exodus are about holiness of a people;  and here it seems that Jesus is concerned with holiness of a place.  But there is that wonderful play on words (lost to his hearers) about the new temple - the temple of his body.  And by extension, Paul will later pick up on this same theme - we are a new "temple", just as we are a new people.

What is Jesus doing when he "cleanses the temple"?  What is YWHW doing when he "cleanses" a people?  By Jesus' time, sacrifice had become more of an industry, not unlike a certain amount of what I see passing for "Christian" marketing of products today.  There are any number of shelves in certain bookstores which should simply be overturned, but maybe that's just me.  At any rate, we have the several layers of holiness - people and place.

How seriously does Jesus take sin? Or perhaps the question should be framed more positively, how seriously does Jesus take holiness?  "Zeal for your house will consume me".  There would be both a positive and negative way of imitating Jesus on this point.  Zeal and passion for the worship and holiness of God should be a feature of the Christian life.  Zeal and passion for the building (for the building's sake alone) should not.  What is the proper "zeal" a Christian should have for her/his place of worship?

As a Lenten passage, one can envision Jesus turning to us - each of us as "temple" - and saying to us:  "Remove these things from yourselves".  We are God's temple, and just as Jesus was fairly ferocious in cleansing the temple in Jerusalem, so he will also be fairly ferocious in cleansing the new temple - his people.  This is the image of the work of repentance:  inviting and allowing Jesus to drive out from us those things which make our souls a marketplace instead of a temple of the living God.  It is zeal for us which drives Christ to do this work in us.

more later...  in the meantime, go read this little piece, (which talks of Jesus taking over in his own person the functions of the Temple) h/t PPCP

also, some semi-obscure numerology on 46 from St Augustine, among more enlightening comments in his tractates on John

I suspect that one of the overlooked dynamics of this episode is the reaction of "the Jews" who ask Jesus for a sign:  What sign can you show us for doing this?  It would appear that if the proper sign is forthcoming, then there is a justification for the action.  There is not an automatic assumption that what Jesus is doing is completely outrageous, merely that he is doing it without proper authority.  In this reading perhaps Jesus is not alone is seeing a problem with the practices in the temple precincts; only he takes action, while others do not.  To pull in another thought, this is a bit of an example of what Peter Rollins might refer to as retroactive justification.  Truly revolutionary acts are only justified later; in this case, at the resurrection. 

My 9 year old suggested that I talk about the month of March on Sunday - in like a lion, out like a lamb.  Which, when you think about it, kind of fits at least one pattern in Jesus' life...

Lent

goes by fast

sermon notes Lent 1, Year B: Mark 1:9-15

[for year A notes Mk 4:1-11 click here]

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.  And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.  And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

And the Spirit immediately drove him 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.  Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God,  and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."

I love the image of the heavens being torn apart. It is worth meditating on for some time. Jesus' coming tears apart many things, and in the end, an encounter with Jesus tears me apart.  In a wonderful bookend to the gospel, I think of the veil of the temple being torn apart as well.  It seems that what happens to Jesus is a model for the rest of us - baptism, the heavens torn apart, and the Spirit descending.  We will see all of this repeated in the life of the church:  there is baptism and the descent of the Spirit recorded in the book of Acts. 

And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am  well pleased."

Now I've gotten on this band wagon before, but I think it bears repeating.  We tend to focus on the first part of the declarative statement:  "You are my Son".  Well enough, as it tells us of Jesus' identity.  But there is the second part:  Jesus is beloved of God before Jesus does anything - before the miracles, healings, teachings, sacrifice.  We who are baptized need to learn/yearn to hear that same voice.  Who you are comes before what you do.

And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness.

All I can say is that if you have tried to follow Jesus, chances are you've been driven into the wilderness.  Sometimes we do the driving ourselves.  But with Jesus it is the Spirit who drives him - in order to face temptation.  And it is in facing the tempter that we know the answer the demoniac's question:  "I know who you are... have you come to destroy us?"  I suppose it might also be an antidote to too much "purpose driven" stuff.  Jesus is definitely "Spirit driven"; but the results of being Spirit driven are not pretty.  They are difficult.

He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild  beasts; and the angels waited on him.

Two things, well, three.  Alright, four, but no more.  There is reality to the personality of evil.  Why is he with the wild beasts?  Are they friend or foe?  We have an image from the natural world (beasts) and we have the supernatural world (Satan, angels).  Physical and spiritual reality:  Jesus is at home in both.  Yada yada - Jesus was tempted, so he knows what it is like...  which reminds me a a joke I recently heard:  "the pastor's prayer:  Lord, grant me patience, and wisdom and grace in the trying times of my church, because is you grant me strength, I'll beat someone to death."  All that is to say is that Jesus does what I can't.  I like Oscar Wilde's take:  "The only sure way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it."  Seriously, though, I think we ignore the various kinds of existence, beings and realities at our peril.  Some take it too far, some don't take it at all.

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of  God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;  repent, and believe in the good news."

I like to think that God is a God of second chances.  That is the good news.  But of course if you have a second chance it generally means that you screwed up your first chance.  Repentance is the movement between the two:  from the screwed up first chance to the good news of the second chance, and third, and fourth...  The coming of the Kingdom seems to me to be like the episode of Jesus' baptism: it is about a declaration from God's side of the way things are.  At this point the good news is simply that the Kingdom has come.  Until we see that it's coming in and of itself is good news, we won't (I think) get a handle on the rest of the gospel.

A little exercise I use in lent for repentance: I look at the two great commandments, and ask how I have fallen short, and ask for grace to grow.  I'd list all my offenses, but there is not enough server storage space.  More after dinner, or next week.

Ash Wednesday, 2009...

The Anglican Communion’s first Anglican-Buddhist Bishop was elected this week at a special convention of the Diocese of Northern Michigan. The sole candidate on the ballot, the Rev Kevin Thew Forrester received the support of 88 per cent of the delegates and 91 per cent of congregations, according to a diocesan news release.

The nomination of Fr Forrester sparked controversy last month, when the diocese announced that he was the sole candidate for election. Critics charged it was unseemly that a single candidate was chosen by the search committee --- which included Fr Forrester among its members --- to stand for election. Concerns were also raised about the suitability of a professed Buddhist who said he had received Buddhist “lay ordination” and was “walking the path of Christianity and Zen Buddhism together” being consecrated a bishop.

Known also by his Buddhist name, “Genpo” which means “Way of Universal Wisdom”, Fr Forrester holds progressive views on a number of traditional Christian doctrines. Writing in the diocese’s news letter he stated: “Sin has little, if anything, to do with being bad. It has everything to do, as far as I can tell, with being blind to our own goodness.”

read the whole article by George Conger at Religious Intelligence 

Speaking of people who are merely blind to their own goodness,

RUF leaders Issa Sesay, 38, and Morris Kallon, 45, were convicted of 16 of the 18 charges, while Augustine Gbao, 60, was found guilty on 14 of the counts...The last case to be held at the special court had heard how the rebel leaders were involved in the rape, mutilation and killings of civilians.  The three committed atrocities during the 1991-2001 civil war as senior commanders of the Revolutionary United Front (RUF).

Tactics favoured by the rebels included amputating hands and arms or carving the initials RUF into the bodies of their victims.  The RUF was notorious for using the so-called Small Boys Units - child soldiers forcibly recruited and issued with AK-47 assault rifles - who had a reputation for particular cruelty among the civilian population.

By the time the conflict ended, some 120,000 people had been killed while tens of thousands were left mutilated, their arms, legs, noses or ears cut off.

Two sexes 'sin in different ways'

Women are prouder than men, but men are more lustful, according to a Vatican report which states that the two sexes sin differently.

A Catholic survey found that the most common sin for women was pride, while for men, the urge for food was only surpassed by the urge for sex.  The report was based on a study of confessions carried out by Fr Roberto Busa, a 95-year-old Jesuit scholar.

from the BBC

Now I don't want to make too much of this, but it strikes me that there are interesting ways to interpret this.  Lust=makes an object of the other;  Pride=makes an object of the self;  Gluttony grabs it all to oneself, while Envy looks on at what Gluttony has grabbed;  Sloth feels no passion, while Anger feels excessive passion.

Of course, maybe men would have less problems with lust, you know, be a little more 'fulfilled' in their relationships, if they simply stopped being fat and lazy...

I'm just sayin'.

Six weeks of Sheer Hell!!

or, how one of our Lenten study groups will be reading Dante's Inferno.  We will also try to squeeze in some purgatory in there, and maybe paradise after Easter.